by T S Florence
Ragnar’s stomach tightened into a ball. “Told you what?”
“You’re leaving me,” tears streamed down her cheeks.
“He had no right,” Ragnar had growled.
“How long have you known?” Hilda asked, ignoring him.
“Not long,” Ragnar lied.
“How long?” Hilda stepped towards him, with balled fists.
“A little while,” Ragnar said.
Hilda hit him in the chest, causing a light thud.
“Three months. Since the beginning of winter,” Ragnar said.
“If you go I will never forgive you,” Hilda said, looking at him.
“I will come back, Hilda,” Ragnar pleaded.
Hilda shook her head, and ran into the forest, yelling at Ragnar to leave her alone. Eventually, he did. For even with all of his stubbornness, he knew that he would not create anything but more pain. He never had the right words to say with Hilda.
The rest of the week she stayed silent, speaking only occasionally to Ragnar’s parents.
“You can’t let me go without saying a single word,” Ragnar said to Hilda, on the day that he was leaving, as they stood in front of the great fleet of boats,
Hilda looked him in his eyes, her face red. She stayed silent.
He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tight, yet she did not respond. He dipped his head down, smelling her hair, and kissed her crown. Hilda kept her arms at her side.
“I will come back,” Ragnar said.
He stepped back to look at her, but she did not say a word. She turned and walked towards the pathway that led back to his home. Their home.
Ragnar gripped his axe and stepped onto the boat.
Present day
“What town did you grow up in?” Ragnar asked Hilda, as the sun began to peek over the horizon.
“Why do you want to know?” Hilda asked, looking at him.
“We will go there first,” he said.
“What if I don’t want to?” Hilda replied, playing with the hem of her dress, nervously.
“We can see if your family is there. Your English family,” Ragnar said, quietly.
“I wouldn’t even know what they look like,” Hilda replied quietly, looking at Ragnar uncertainly.
“Well… you have their names, don’t you?” Ragnar asked.
“I suppose,” Hilda said.
“So, what is your English name?” Ragnar asked.
“I don’t want to tell you. Not yet. I want to get to England before I get ahead of myself,” Hilda replied.
“Tell me where you are from, at least,” Ragnar said.
“Kingston,” Hilda replied.
“We will go to Kingston,” Ragnar looked at the English coast line that was now in clear view. They would soon pass the English boarder from Scotland, and would pass the kingdom of Newcastle before dark. That night, the rest of the boats turned and headed for Newcastle. This left Ragnar with one boat and thirty men, and Hilda and Brenna. Ragnar had instructed his men to tell Ivar of his whereabouts, but did not give them further detail on his reason why.
“Do you remember where your house was?” Ragnar asked Hilda, as they lay in the boat, watching the stars.
“Yes. We owned an estate outside of the main castle,” Hilda replied.
“Your family was wealthy?” Ragnar asked, his eyebrows raised.
“Does that surprise you?” Hilda asked, frowning.
“No, actually,” Ragnar responded.
“My father was a wool merchant. And my mother would make clothes out of the wool. They made good money,” Hilda said.
“That explains it,” Ragnar said.
“Explains what?” Hilda asked.
“The clothing you wore on the day you arrived in Fyrkat,” Ragnar said, more to himself.
“You remember that?” Hilda asked.
“Of course. Like it was yesterday,” he said mildly.
Ragnar enjoyed the warmth of Hilda’s body as he lay next to her, happy that she had accepted his offer to lay on his great bear skin with him. He could still feel that her body was stiff, probably from discomfort at being so close to him after all of this time.
“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Ragnar asked.
“Uncomfortable? No. But being near you is strange,” Hilda said quietly.
Ragnar flinched at her words, feeling a rawness in her words. Hilda had never hesitated to tell him how she felt, even if it meant causing arguments. Eventually, she fell asleep, and the sound of her steady breathing caused Ragnar to fall asleep as well.
38
Hilda
Hilda woke with her head on Ragnar’s chest, and jumped when she realised how close they had gotten in the night. Nostalgic memories from their teenage years filled her sleepy head of when he would sleep next to her. His arms wrapped around her, his body protecting her from the wind. Despite the cold air, Ragnar’s body was still warm, like the coals from a fire in the early morning. She sat upright and moved herself away, scared of allowing herself to get too close.
She looked at his face. His long hair fell across his face, reaching down to his shoulder. She looked at his slightly crooked nose, from being broken during a training session before he had left her in Fyrkat. He was not scowling in his sleep, she noticed.
He was not the same Ragnar that left all those years ago. The smiling, laughing, and playful Ragnar was not there. Instead, there was a cold, hard man, who expected men and women alike to take his order without question. She wondered if it was years of battle and killing that caused him to become distant and calloused. She looked out to the ocean and was shocked to see how close they were to land. The castle of Kingston was so close that she could see people moving about on the ramparts.
Hilda gently shook Ragnar’s shoulder, causing him to stir. “Who the f- oh,” Ragnar grumbled, but stopped himself, as he realised who was waking him “Hilda, what is it?” Ragnar, rubbed his eyes.
“We’re very close to land,” Hilda said.
Ragnar jumped up from his bear fur and began to kick men awake.
“Who is supposed to be on lookout?” He growled to his men, as he walked along the sleeping bodies, kicking them awake, one by one.
“Get on the oars and steer us into the harbour,” he continued, as he made his way to the front of the boat.
The men grumbled and argued with each other, as they pushed each other out the way, fighting for the closest oar. Not a word was argued back to Ragnar, however.
The wharf of Kingston was bustling with people loading great sacks on and off boats. Cats chased mice and rats amongst barrels and boxes and sacks, while children played games, and men sold fish from stands.
A young boy ran to the edge of the wharf, raising his hands to signal that he would catch their rope and tie them in against the wharf. Ragnar threw the boy the rope, who pulled hard, and wound it around a heavy iron block.
“Good lad,” Ragnar said, throwing the boy a thin bracelet, worth far more than the work he had just done.
“This is too much, sir,” the boy said.
“Keep it,” Ragnar said.
“Are you a viking?” The boy asked, with wide eyes.
“I am just a man,” Ragnar growled, ruffling the boys hair.
Ragnar took Hilda’s hands, and helped her onto the wharf. Torsten did the same for Brenna.
“This is your home?” Brenna said, looking at Hilda.
“It was,” Hilda said to Brenna.
They went into the town, which was far different from what Hilda remembered. When Ragnar was arguing with a man over the price of some weapons he had on display, Hilda went to an old priest that was standing out the front of the church.
“Hello father,” Hilda said, enjoying speaking in English.
“Hello my child,” The priest said.
“I have come to you hoping that you can answer a question for me,” Hilda said.
“I will do my best,” the priest replied.
“Have you been in Kingston for long?” Hilda
asked.
“All of my life,” The priest replied.
Hilda did not recognise the man, but she was sure she would not recognise many people, for she was only eleven years old when she was taken, ten years earlier.
“Do you remember a family by the last name Draper?” Hilda asked.
“The wealthy wool merchants? Husband and wife…” the priest said.
“Yes,” Hilda said excitedly, fighting to contain her emotion.
“Yes, a sad story. The family was never seen again after the viking raids,” the priest said.
“What about the wife and son?” Hilda asked.
“Not since the night of the great raids,” The priest replied. “Why do you ask?” He said.
“Their daughter was a childhood friend,” Hilda replied defeatedly.
“Ah. Well, vikings being vikings, she would have been sold into slavery. I doubt she is alive today. I’m sorry girl,” the priest said.
A cold sweat broke out across Hilda’s neck at his words. “Thank you, father,” she said.
“Did you have any luck?” Ragnar asked.
“No, but I would like to see if my house still stands,” Hilda replied quietly.
Ragnar rented some horses from the stables, and left the rest of the crew by the ship, along with Torsten and Brenna. They rode a short way to where Hilda’s house once stood. Now, there was a wheat field. Her childhood home was gone.
“It was here,” Hilda said, looking to Ragnar.
Ragnar dismounted his horse and took Hilda’s hand, assisting her in dismounting. He did not let go of her hand once she was on the ground, but instead led her through the fields. She ran her free hand through the top of the stalks of wheat.
“Show me where,” Ragnar said.
“Just here,” Hilda said, walking to a point that was about a twenty yard walk to the nearest tree. “I remember that tree being close to our door,” Hilda said.
“This is where your house was?” Ragnar said.
“I think my bed was right about here,” Hilda said, moving to a patch of grass.
“Did you have any siblings?” Ragnar asked.
“Ragnar. I don’t want to talk about that with you yet,” Hilda clipped.
“Will you ever want to talk about anything with me ever again?” Ragnar asked, with his hands out.
“Maybe. Maybe not,” Hilda said to Ragnar with her arms across her chest. She knew that she wanted to share everything with Ragnar, but she wanted to share with him as his equal. She wanted to share from a point of growing with him. Not while she was still dealing with the hurt from abandonment.
“Why?” Ragnar asked.
“Maybe you should think about that, instead of always waiting for me to tell you things,” Hilda said.
“Answer my question for once,” Ragnar said.
“Or what?” Hilda asked.
“I’m not asking. I’m ordering you to tell me,” Ragnar said, firmly.
“You are bringing this back to me being your slave?” Hilda stepped closer to Ragnar, and looked unflinchingly into his piercing blue eyes.
“This is nothing to do about being a slave,” Ragnar growled.
“Everything is about that. I am your slave, Ragnar the Destroyer,” Hilda rolled her eyes.
Ragnar stepped forwards and grabbed Hilda’s shoulders, causing her to flinch under the firmness of his grip. Memories of Ragnar trying to calm her down when they were younger came flooding back.
“You are no longer my slave, Hilda. You are free. You can do as you wish. If you want to stay here in Kingston, then stay. But I am going back to Newcastle,” Ragnar turned to walk away.
“Thank you Ragnar the Destroyer, Earl of Fyrkat, how kind of you. I suppose I will start rebuilding my childhood home now. Unfortunately I don’t have gold to pay for a fare to Newcastle with you, so I must stay,” Hilda said, half sarcastically, not truly believing that Ragnar was setting her free.
“I can’t do anything right with you, can I?” Ragnar said, raising his palms to the sky.
“You don’t try to do anything right,” Hilda said, quietly.
“I want you to be happy. All I have ever wanted is for you to be happy. If I knew how to make you happy then I would do it. You may do as you wish, any anything you wish I will do,” Ragnar gripped her shoulders tight, looking into her eyes, pausing for a moment, “consider yourself my master,” Ragnar said.
“Well I can’t stay here,” Hilda mumbled, feeling her cheeks flush red at Ragnar’s admission, looking at the ground.
“Then Newcastle,” Ragnar releasing his grip and turning around.
“Ragnar,” Hilda said.
“Yes?” Ragnar said, as he turned around more quickly than any man his size should be able to.
“Why Newcastle?” Hilda asked.
“That is where Ivar the Clever is,” Ragnar replied, cocking an eyebrow.
“Ok Hilda said.
“What?” Ragnar asked.
“Nothing,” Hilda said.
“Stop lying to me,” Ragnar growled.
“I will tell you in Newcastle,” Hilda said, folding her arms again, knowing that when she told Ragnar the truth, her two lives would be irreconcilably met, whether she wanted it or not. The truth was, she did want Ragnar to know, she just didn’t know how to be vulnerable with him, not after he had already betrayed her once.
“How long?” Ragnar asked.
“What do you mean?” Hilda replied, though she already knew what he was asking.
“You are always angry with me, and you refuse to tell me things,” Ragnar said.
“I need time, Ragnar,” Hilda said, as she felt the walls around her heart beginning to weaken.
They walked slowly back towards the boat, bumping into each other lightly as they walked. Hilda caught Ragnar looking at her several times, and she wasn’t sure if his hand was brushing hers on purpose, or if it was accidental, because they were walking so close together on the narrow path.
“You look at me a lot,” Hilda said.
“I do?” Ragnar replied, as if surprised by her statement.
“Yes, you know I catch you,” Hilda smiled.
“I do,” Ragnar confessed.
“Why?” Hilda laughed. Hilda knew that she enjoyed Ragnar’s attention. It wasn’t just his rugged handsomeness, but his close attentiveness. Despite the anger he seemed to carry with him these days, she felt safe when he was near. She felt that no matter what happened, she would be safe with him.
“Well. You look different since I last saw you,” Ragnar said.
“Since before you left me in Fyrkat?” Hilda asked, knowing the wound was still sore.
“Yes. Since before I left you,” Ragnar mumbled.
“Different how?” Hilda asked.
“You look like a princess,” Ragnar said, looking at the sky.
“How many princesses do you know?” Hilda asked, cocking her eyebrow.
“Just one,” Ragnar replied, bumping her shoulder.
“Ok, Earl Ragnar, Ragnar the Destroyer,” Hilda said, in a mocking tone.
“I missed you,” Ragnar said, taking her hand.
“Ok, Ragnar,” Hilda replied.
“I did,” he said, frowning.
“Not enough to come home at all in the four years you were gone,” Hilda replied.
“I didn’t have boats or men,” Ragnar said.
“Ok, Ragnar,” Hilda said.
“Stop it, Hilda,” Ragnar laughed.
“I thought I wasn’t your slave anymore,” Hilda said.
“You’re not,” Ragnar said, quietly.
“I don’t know what to do,” Hilda said.
“You don’t need to know straight away. You can stay with me and figure it out,” Ragnar said.
“Thank you, Raggie,” Hilda said, smirking at him.
“That’s my father’s pet name, not mine,” Ragnar said.
“Ok, Ragnar the Destroyer,” Hilda sighed.
“We go to Newcastle now,” Ragnar said
.
“Ok,” Hilda said in a quiet voice.
