Loki's Daughters

by Delle Jacobs

  Of course. The way she looked at Ronan. Lascivious disdain, that was it.

  "Selma, be careful," Arienh said, frowning. "You are not as old as the rest of us, and you could be easily misled. That Tanni is a charming one."

  "Aye, he is, isn't he?" Selma's eyes sparkled.

  An excited cooing sound spread through the women.

  "You wouldn't be thinking of trying him out?"

  "Well, someone is going to have to do it. That's the other thing we have to know, if they're too big for us. And we have already seen they are pretty big."

  To Arienh's consternation, no one seemed to be disagreeing.

  "Tanni is a smaller man than most of the others," Elli said.

  "So, what kind of test would that be?" Mildread asked.

  "He isn't small in that way," Selma protested. "I looked."

  Mildread folded her arms, then stroked a finger across her chin, the way a man would do. "Well, it should not be a virgin who tries them. A virgin might not know the difference between that and the usual pain of the first time. It would not be a good test."

  Arienh struggled to keep her calm and her silence. She could tell them. And then she could end up married.

  Of course. That was it.

  "You don't realize the risk," she said. "If you lie with them, they could claim you as wives. You would be stuck. And that would only encourage the others. And the closer you let them get, the more likely Birgit will be exposed."

  "Well, that is true," said Mildread. "We will have to be very careful. After all, we don't want to marry them."

  So Mildread had already made up her mind. And probably Selma had, too. Arienh doubted she could change that. But she could use them to bolster the claim she had made to Ronan Ah, good idea. "You could tell them it isn't a marriage without a public vow at the church steps. It isn't that different from the way we did things before the church burned."

  "True," Mildread agreed. "But not everybody did that."

  "Well, we don't have to tell them that." Now, that would take the sting out of Ronan's threat.

  But Mildread shook her head again. "No, Arienh, it simply isn't true. It would be a marriage, and we all know it. Unless one of the two was already married, or if it was a rape. And it would not be rape. Or, if we made it clear before the act that we were not consenting to marriage."

  "Aye, that's true, Arienh," Birgit agreed. "The act itself has always been considered consummation of marriage. Even Father Hewil would agree to that, Vikings or not."

  "I think the entire thing is too risky. But if you are so determined, you'd best make it clear, or be prepared to be married to one of them." She felt her jaw tighten. It was a good thing she hadn't told them.

  But what was going to prevent Ronan from telling? Why hadn't he already?

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The last of the thatch was being tied onto the slanting roof of the weaving gallery. Arienh glanced sideways at Ronan as he surveyed his accomplishment. It was sturdy and square. He truly was the fine carpenter Egil had claimed.

  Birgit's new loom stood waiting for its stringers and heddles, a marvel of fine, delicately drilled holes and smoothly polished wood. The pile of retted nettles grew daily, waiting to be stripped, spun, and woven. Birgit's impatience was barely controlled, and growing difficult for others to bear. Yet for Arienh it was as wonderful as Liam's ill-contained energy. Birgit was suddenly young, like she had been so long ago.

  And the way she secretly looked at Egil, thinking Arienh did not see. Arienh smiled and said nothing, wishing Birgit could have a love that could grow and become wonderful.

  Was there some way Egil could be persuaded to accept Birgit as his bride, even knowing how helpless she would become? Arienh tried to imagine Birgit with a new babe. She knew the love the child would receive. But would she be able to care for an infant? Possibly now, but not if things got any worse. When Liam was born, they had not realized that Birgit's sight was already fading. But by the time the boy was toddling, his mother had to keep him very close, lest she not be able to see him.

  Even as a very young child, Liam had to learn to accommodate his mother. Sometimes he rebelled. He was far too curious for his own good, so the risk of trouble always lurked. That was why Arienh took him with her whenever she could, and why Egil was so good for the boy.

  Would Birgit's sight continue to fade, or had it gotten as bad as it would get? Who could tell? How could a blind woman be a wife? Life was too hard as it was.

  This morning, Arienh had watched Liam go off with Egil, with his eyes focused in adoration on the big Viking. And there was no doubt of Egil's delight in the boy. How old did a Viking child have to be, before he was taken from his mother?

  Arienh felt a prickling sensation on her neck and knew its reason even as she turned. Ronan. While she had not been looking, he had come up behind her, standing close enough to touch. She felt the heat of his body close, too close. His smoldering gaze roamed over her, seemed to speak in silence of the ways he wanted to touch her. Or perhaps that was only what she wished him to be thinking, the way she wished to be touched.

  Did it matter? Since she could not let it happen? If he called her wife in anything more than a whisper in her ear, he would gain the power to decide what happened to Birgit.

  She could not have him.

  "Come and see." His sensual voice and breath tingled against her cheek.

  She nodded, afraid to speak aloud, lest any word she uttered betray her. With Birgit, she stepped out from beneath the gallery into the sunshine, back far enough to survey it thoroughly.

  A scream lashed through the air, from the stream.

  Liam!

  "Liam!" screeched Birgit. She dropped her spindle and ran.

  Arienh's heart lurched as she bolted after Birgit, Ronan beside her. From the clutch of birches along the bank, Egil burst forth at a run, carrying the writhing child.

  "Mama!"

  "Give him to me," Birgit screamed, her arms begging for her child.

  Egil stopped suddenly, his blue eyes wild with fear.

  "A snake, Mama!" Liam cried. "A snake bit me!" Amidst his sobs, the boy's arms reached out.

  Birgit lifted the boy's leg. The lump was already growing, reddening. Horror spread over her face.

  "Adder bite," said Arienh. She swallowed down the bitter gorge of terror, forcing herself to keep her head. "Take him to the sunlight so I can see it."

  "Give him to me," Birgit demanded.

  But Egil sped up the slope to the open green. Birgit ran behind him, screaming and grabbing at him.

  "Nay, Birgit, let him," Ronan insisted. "He is faster."

  Birgit shoved Ronan away and dashed desperately after Egil. Arienh grabbed Birgit's arm as she stumbled against a rock, steadied her as they ran.

  "Hurry." As if her sister somehow needed urging.

  Liam's screams grew louder, higher. His legs and body thrashed. Reaching the knoll where the sun was bright, Egil sat down with the boy, his arms wrapped snugly around him.

  "You've got to hold him still," Arienh said, trying to get a good look at the wound. "Liam, you must hold still for me."

  "It hurts, Aunt!"

  "Aye, I know. And it will hurt for a while. But you must try to bear it so that I can help it. Will you try for me?"

  Through his sobs and gasps, Liam struggled to nod. He clung first to his mother, then to Egil, then again his mother, his little body trembling.

  Arienh ripped off her cord sash, wrapped it tightly several times around Liam's leg just below his knee, then tied it.

  Birgit shoved at Egil, clawing her way to her child. "Get out of my way."

  "Birgit, let me-"

  "Get out of my way. Get away from my son."

  Egil shook his head in confusion. "He needs-"

  Terror and fury filled Birgit's eyes. "He needs his mother. He needs someone who can take care of him, not a careless Viking who lets a snake bite him. Get away from my son. I don't want you ever near him again."r />
  Stunned, Arienh watched Egil's mouth drop open. His blue eyes grew wide as he swallowed a lump of horror. He sagged away, letting Birgit snatch the boy from his arms. Egil rose, turned and walked slowly away, as if he had lost his world.

  Liam screamed. "Egil! I want Egil!"

  "Hush, Liam, you must be still," Arienh begged. The boy's leg swung wildly, slipping from her grasp. She lunged and caught his leg in a downward swing. His foot broke free and kicked her jaw, knocking her backward.

  The wiry child bucked out of Birgit's grip, but she threw her arms back around him, struggling to contain the child.

  "Mama, it hurts. I want Egil. He hates me, Mama."

  "No, Liam, no. You must hold still." Birgit clamped a tighter grip around the boy.

  Liam's hysteria rose like a whirlwind, a melee between his fear and pain. "He hates me, Mama. I was bad. I saw the snake and I didn't tell him. Mama!"

  He could die from his own frantic exertions. The more the boy fought the pain, the more the poison would spread. Somehow, Arienh knew, she had to stop his writhing. She threw her weight over Liam's legs, pinning him to the ground, at once wrapping her arms tightly around his legs in the strongest grip she could manage.

  The screams escalated as the child wriggled beneath her.

  "Nay, Liam, stop it," she shouted. "I will not let you go until you stop thrashing."

  "It hurts!"

  "And so it will." Fiercely, she fought against him. "I will not lose you, Liam. I will not. And you will do as I say so I can save you. Do you hear me?"

  "I can't, Aunt!"

  "You can. Hold still."

  "Let me hold him," Ronan begged, reaching for Liam.

  Fiercely, Birgit swung Liam away from the Viking. "Nay. I want none of your kind to touch him."

  She was losing control. Liam's foot pulled out of her arms. She grabbed his ankle, pinning it down, and the other leg swung free. He could die.

  Please, God. Oh, please. Not Liam. I could not bear to lose him. Her heart pounding wildly, Arienh lunged for Birgit's arm and jerked, hard, as she again rolled her body over the child. "And you'll have him die for it, Birgit?" Arienh yelled back. "For what? Pride?"

  "He promised me," Birgit cried in terror. "He said he'd keep him safe, and he didn't even look out for adders. They lie to us, Arienh."

  "Nay, Birgit," said Ronan. "Egil has never seen a snake." His strong hands gripped Liam's thin arms, despite Birgit's demand.

  "That's stupid. Everyone knows about snakes."

  "There are no snakes on the Green Isle, and Egil has never been anywhere else. He would not know to look out for them."

  Had not Vikings been everywhere? But no. Egil had said the first day they met he had not been trading with his brother. Arienh glanced at Birgit.

  Stunned horror spread over Birgit's tear-stained face. Her hand went to her mouth. "None?" She squinted off in the direction Egil had gone. Giant Egil leaned in despair against the huge lone oak. Arienh could see his chest heaving in sobs.

  "I want Egil, Mama." Full of terror, the stricken child gasped and jerked beneath Arienh's weight.

  Tears flooded down Birgit's cheeks as she gulped, struggling for composure, and clinging to her sobbing child.

  "It hurts, Mama. I want Egil."

  "I'll get him, son. You must hold still. Promise me."

  Ronan jumped up. "You stay. I'll go. I promise you, Liam. I'll bring him."

  "Mama, I want Egil."

  "He's coming, love." The nod she gave was for Ronan. "But you must hold still."

  Liam nodded jerkily, amid moans and whimpers. And Birgit rocked her son mournfully. Arienh took a deep breath as the boy's hysterical cries lessened and flailing eased. He was exhausting his strength. But so was she.

  Ronan sped off, shouting. With a quick glance, she saw him grab Egil's arm and nearly tug his huge brother toward the green. Egil took up the pace, both men tearing down the hill.

  Egil knelt beside Birgit. "Birgit, I didn't mean him harm, truly not." Tears streamed from his eyes. His stark terror mirrored Birgit's.

  Birgit choked on her sobs. "Nay, forgive me. I was wrong, I did not think. I know you would not hurt him. Please, Egil, he needs you. We cannot calm him."

  Silently, Egil sat cross-legged on the grass. Arienh released her grip, as Egil cradled the boy in his arms.

  "I'm sorry I was bad," cried Liam, and he snuggled into the big man's chest.

  "You weren't bad, Liam." Huge hands smoothed over the little boy's golden curls and wiped at his tears.

  "I didn't tell you about the snake, and it bit me. Please don't be mad at me."

  "You should have told me, and you should have stayed away from the snake. But you aren't bad, and I don't hate you. You are as precious to me as my own son." Egil's cheek rested like a caress against Liam's bright curls.

  "It hurts," cried the boy.

  "I have to cut his leg, Egil," said Arienh. "It will help get out the poison."

  "Do you want me to do it?"

  "Just hold him still. Then I have to try to squeeze out the poison."

  Egil nodded, and with gentle words soothed the boy. Ronan held Liam's legs in his firm grip, while Birgit stroked a wet rag over Liam's brow. The boy screamed at the sight of the knife, yet did not seem to feel the strokes of the knife as she cut small slits over each fang mark.

  Kneeling, Arienh tied cords above and below the dark lump, then pushed and squeezed against it, forcing out blood and venom, until she could get no more. The swelling did not seem much smaller. She needed something else to draw out the poison.

  "The snake, Egil. Did you kill it?"

  "Aye. Why?"

  "I need the head. Mother told me the head tied to the wound will draw the poison back to itself."

  Liam screamed, his blue eyes wide with terror."Nay, Aunt!"

  "It is dead, Liam. It cannot hurt you anymore. We must get the poison out."

  "Nay. Please, Aunt!"

  One of the men already ran toward the stream after the dead adder. But if Liam was so terrified of it, would it not do more harm than good? Her mother had always said a snakebite victim must be kept calm, for their fear helped spread the poison.

  There must be another way.

  "We will use mud," she decided. "It's good for drawing out poison, too. And there are some herbs. Most of them, I do not have. Bugloss, maybe. The leaves of the ash tree may help, and I have the lettuce, and that will help to calm him. Cleavers in wine would help to protect his heart."

  "Cleavers," Mildread repeated as she knelt beside Arienh. "I found some stuck on my kirtle yesterday. I think they are by the woods."

  Behind Mildread, Olav jumped up. "Aye, get them, Mildread, and I'll fetch the wine."

  "I will go for the ash leaves," Selma offered. Tanni hurried off with her.

  As Egil carried Liam to the cottage, some went to the stream for mud, others to fetch the herbs Arienh specified. Egil stretched Liam out on Birgit's bed, but Liam cried as Egil tried to stand back. So Egil sat on the bed, his back propped against the wall and held Liam against his chest, his deep voice crooning an alien lullaby.

  Birgit walked toward the door after the wine brought by Olav, and Liam screamed for her return. Arienh took the wine to mix, letting Birgit crawl onto the narrow bed and wrap her arms around her son.

  Twice, Arienh tried to bind the snake's head to the wound, for it was said to be the best relief for bites, but Liam screamed and kicked violently. So she had no choice. Instead, she treated his wound with compresses of mud and herbs, and he drank the wine laced with the cleavers and young ash leaves.

  Liam's cries slowly diminished to whimpers, and Arienh gave him the syrup of lettuce to make him doze. He slept fretfully, crying in his sleep and waking himself up. As the mud dried, Arienh scraped it off and applied a fresh coat, covering his leg all the way up his thigh.

  Each time the door opened, Arienh looked up. Wynne brought a broth made from her chickens, and Mildread brought a porridge for thos
e who tended him, and bread fresh from the village oven the Vikings had rebuilt. Father Hewil slipped in and spoke a prayer over the child, then quietly slipped out again. Ronan hovered close, bringing to her what she demanded. He pressed against her, giving her a place to rest her back, and massaged her aching shoulders.

  Outside, villagers and Vikings kept watch, going to their duties when they must, returning whenever they could. Egil and Birgit together held the child, who cried when either left.

  Day merged with twilight, then into night. Arienh changed the mud compresses again and again. The swelling grew so large that she reluctantly untied the cord sash and moved it higher up his leg, lest the leg itself die.

  The swelling stopped. Beneath the packs of mud a huge knot of darkest purple bulged from Liam's leg. Skin sloughed off, and Arienh rubbed with a cloth to clear it away. She thought of maggots, to eat away the dead skin, but she hated the idea. Only if she must would she run the risk of the pus they sometimes caused.

  The child slept, wrapped in Egil's arms as the big man leaned against the wall. His deep voice sang on and on, so soft it caressed like a feather.

  Exhaustion enveloped Arienh and threatened to swallow her. When at last she and Ronan stepped outside the cottage for the first time in two days, she drew the clean, chilly air into her lungs as if she had never tasted its freshness before. She answered everyone's questions and sent them home.

  Then she and Ronan walked, drinking in the freshness of the night, the clean aroma of a recent rain. Even the darkness seemed to have a smell of its own. Silence hung between them as she racked her tired brain for anything else that could be done.

  "Will he live?" Ronan asked for the first time.

  "I think so." She could think of nothing else to say. "I cannot tell. I have never known an adult to die of such a bite, but some children live, some die. Or he could lose his leg. Only God knows if we have done enough, or done it in time."

  "You are so weary. Could you not rest awhile?" His voice was soothing, and his face mirrored his concern.