by Suzie Wilde
Bera could tell from Hefnir’s breathing that he was pretending to sleep.
‘Are you awake?’ she whispered.
He huffed and bounced round onto his side to face her. ‘I really want this to happen, Bera.’
‘You’re excited about people dying?’
‘I want to lead folk to a better place. On some trading trips there have been times when it’s been hard to come home.’
The truth stung.
Bera pressed on. ‘I want Sigrid to come but what if she won’t? She and Thorvald could go off overland and settle somewhere. Why must you part them?’
‘She doesn’t matter to him. This handfasting is an ugly bastard’s ruse to get coupled. He’s no fool. He wants to be with me.’
‘I don’t want him with us.’
‘Why not?’
‘The same as always.’
‘Oh, Hel’s teeth, Bera, not the Bjorn thing!’ He rolled away from her.
It was always, and could only ever be, the Bjorn thing. One way or another.
Then he whispered in the dark. ‘Why don’t you tell Sigrid what he did? She’ll be glad to be rid of him. I’ll make sure Thorvald’s ready to defend himself.’
‘So he can kill Sigrid as well as her son?’
‘Bera...’
‘I’ve not seen Sigrid this happy, ever. The truth would kill her anyway. I can’t do it to her.’
‘Thorvald is mine. He’s coming. It’s up to you what you do about Sigrid.’
12
At the dangerous time, when a body can slip away, Bera checked on Heggi. She was alarmed at how waxen he looked. His breath was shallow. She kissed his forehead. It had no smell of fever and the medicine stick was darker. He sleepily turned to snuggle up with Rakki, so Bera left them, sure that the poison had all been drawn out and he only needed time to recover.
Ottar arrived for the day meal. He said he and Egill had talked about the flood and the shortage of boat space and they had formed a good plan that would keep folk safe.
‘Hefnir came first thing and he agrees.’
‘To what?’
‘I’m not having you finding problems and claiming your skern forbids it,’ he said. ‘Now where’s my porridge?’
Bera clicked her fingers and a man brought a bowl for them both. She seethed until he left.
‘I left you to re-hog a boat. You agreed with me that we have to leave!’
Ottar tapped his nose. ‘I’m not saying I don’t agree with you.’
‘But you’d rather plan with Egill?’
He carried on stolidly eating his meal.
Bera pushed her bowl away. If he believed Egill because she was a boy perhaps he needed his eyes opened. But then Egill arrived and announced that she had told folk to gather in the mead hall.
Bera lost her temper. ‘It’s Hefnir who calls meetings, not you two!’
‘You mean, you want to call them,’ Ottar said. He scraped his bowl, swilled some ale round his mouth and spat. ‘Let’s go.’
He put his arm round Egill’s shoulders and they left for the mead hall. Bera searched for Sigrid, failed to find her and ran after them. Hefnir was waiting at the hearth and Bera couldn’t get in front. Folk slapped Ottar on the back and ignored her. Then she saw that Dellingr was there and it was worse still: she wanted him to be proud of her, seeing her in command, solving problems. Not slinking behind like a midden dog.
Sigrid and Thorvald were already there, talking to Asa. It didn’t help her mood.
Ottar’s boatyard voice called them to order. Egill raised one leg onto a stool. It was a poor attempt to look masculine and looked more like a dog cocking its leg.
‘What folk need is a project,’ Ottar began. ‘I know there’s work on but it’s long days and there’s food in the store. Seems to me that there’s good times coming for Seabost, a time of plenty, when we don’t have to scrimp and save.’
It was the complete opposite! Bera glared at him. He said he still agreed with her. What was going on?
‘Now Egill and me, we got a plan. That plan involves the whole village working together on the same scheme, like in the days when all Northmen stood shoulder to shoulder to put roofs over heads. Our plan starts up there, at the river.’
‘The river,’ Egill shouted and pointed the wrong way.
Folk laughed until Hefnir raised a hand. ‘Listen up!’ he said. ‘There’s work to be doing so let’s hear the plan, vote on it and get on.’
Hefnir and her father must have hatched a plan to stop folk panicking, that was it. When Egill pointed a finger at the sky, trying to look important, her silliness finally managed to make Bera smile.
‘This is a good plan,’ Egill began. ‘In Iraland it gave folk fresh water as well as a fish pool that made them easy to catch, even in winter.’
‘They flying fish, Snowy?’ shouted a man at the back.
Men laughed. Ottar clipped Egill round the head and she lowered her arm.
‘All right then,’ she said. ‘It’s a dam. It’s what you do. You dam up the river to make a kind of lake thing.’
Bera was stunned. ‘What if the river’s a torrent after storms, what then?’
Ottar shrugged. ‘Won’t overflow. I’m the builder, see? So don’t you worry about how it’ll work. It’ll work.’
Bera was horrified. He might believe her prediction, but he should be building boats, not wasting time with a hare-brained scheme.
‘Good for farmers,’ said Egill. ‘Crops and that. Runnels bring the water straight down to where it’s needed.’
‘Then I’m for it,’ said a farmer. ‘I think it’s a good idea.’
‘We could wash the clothes in it,’ said Sigrid, stupid as ever, and Asa agreed with her.
Bera was outraged and outnumbered. Worse still, Egill and her father thought they had solved the problem but dread was a stone in her stomach.
‘We could go one better than that,’ said Ottar. ‘You could have a proper wash house down here and heat the water.’
Folk liked that.
Dellingr shouted above the excitement. ‘Won’t get to the forge, or the huts.’
‘Fair enough, Dellingr, it won’t. But that’s no reason not to help other folk. Life’s hard enough. And you’d like a bit o’ fresh fish come winternights, wouldn’t you?’
Bera so wanted it to work. The storms were coming – and if it stopped the flood they would never need to leave. But her scalp pricked. She wondered what Dellingr thought. Before she could reach him he collected his wife and daughter, took the baby from her and they set off. Sigrid went with them.
Feeling doubly betrayed, Bera insisted that Ottar and Egill should return to the longhouse. As she went out, Thorvald grabbed her.
‘We need a boat!’
‘Let go of me!’ Bera was furious. ‘Don’t tell me my business. Get Sigrid aboard, that’s all.’
She hurried after the others.
Once inside, Hefnir turned. ‘I don’t care about the dam, whether it works or not. We’re leaving.’
Bera was bewildered. Had he lied to his people? ‘You just backed this plan.’
‘Egill told me it was to do with Iraland!’
‘It was.’ Egill’s eyes were widely innocent.
Bera could use Hefnir’s lust for Iraland but first she had to tackle her father. ‘We need boats, not this mad idea.’
‘The dam’s a security,’ said Ottar. ‘Gives us time to leave properly, not with gales and drift ice threatening. That’s what me and Egill planned. I could make more boats and all, not a bit of re-hogging.’
‘There isn’t enough timber,’ said Hefnir. ‘Though next spring I could— ’
‘Round boats are made of walrus skin,’ Egill said. ‘Thick as your hand, the hide, and when it’s tarred...’
‘I’m not putting to sea in a corpse,’ said Hefnir.
‘There isn’t time!’ Bera shouted. ‘We have to go, gales or not. Or stay here and die!’
Ottar took some ale from a thra
ll. ‘When you going to tell folk about the flood, then?’
Egill grinned. ‘Won’t be a flood, not with the dam.’
Hefnir ignored her. ‘Tell them I need a bigger vessel for trading.’
Ottar rubbed his chin. ‘Or do I stop re-hogging and just do the dam?’
Bera wanted to hit him. ‘We should leave as soon as we can with the supplies we have. Or else we’ll watch them float out to sea.’
They all looked at her.
‘You’re saying my dam won’t work,’ her father said quietly. ‘That all my experience counts for nothing.’
‘Your experience is in boatbuilding, not dams!’
‘Exactly.’ Hefnir prodded Ottar’s chest. ‘And I want to settle elsewhere before winter. So that’s why you have to build a decent boat and build it fast.’
Ottar squared up to him. ‘I’m telling you it can’t be done.’
‘Then we’ll leave without you!’
Bera pushed her way between the two angry men. ‘Stop it! I need time to think. I’ll ask my skern about the boat.’
‘As if he...’ they both began.
Bera spoke over them. ‘And about a fair way of choosing who goes.’
‘What about the dam?’ Egill wailed.
Bera was thinking aloud. ‘I saw a trail of storms before Fall End. We might have time to wait till the boat’s re-hogged.’
Ottar rubbed his hands together. ‘Then I’ll crack on with that right now – and you can look after the dam, Egill.’
Egill capered across to the table. ‘Let’s eat first, now everything’s all right.’
Only all right for her. ‘We’ve eaten, Egill. Let’s talk while I get Heggi’s medicine ready.’
Bera took Egill into the pantry. ‘Egill – have you really seen this... thing?’
‘Dam. Want to help you, Bera. And Ottar. Don’t want to leave here.’
‘But, Egill, we can be happy together in another place.’
‘You keep touching that black bead.’
Bera took her hand away. She got a bowl and started mashing a few leaves.
This wasn’t the moment to tell Egill she wanted to take them to the terrifying place that had burned her father alive. She gave her some pickles.
‘Wouldn’t you like to go back to Iraland?’
The slant-eyed thrall came in, fetched a pitcher and left.
‘She’s very beautiful,’ said Egill. ‘Eyes like almonds.’
‘Are they something you have in Iraland?’ Bera added honey to the mash.
Egill pointed at the bowl. ‘That’s not for...?’
‘Never again.’ Bera meant it.
‘So what about Thorvald?’
Bera’s feelings were chaotic. Thorvald was in favour of the new boat when he could have opposed her. She fought to keep pity out but the monster was gentle with Sigrid and his face caused him pain. Her duty was strong, though, and she could not bear to leave Sigrid behind. Perhaps he was waiting, too, to tell Hefnir about her trying to poison him once he and Sigrid were safe.
‘I need him. Then I’ll be ready for him in Iraland.’
Egill tapped her nose and went out, whistling. Was a lie so bad when it was used for good? Her skern was not there to answer. He had been absent a lot. Was it because she was hiding from herself so much of the time, knowing things were wrong? Bera was exhausted but she had to think straight and save all her folk.
Hefnir and Thorvald were together in the byre.
‘Here’s my idea,’ Bera said. ‘We’ll ask who wants to explore new lands. That will explain the boat being re-hogged and we’ll see who’s adventurous enough to make the best settlers.’
Hefnir liked it. ‘I could say I need more men to overwinter and try it out.’
‘Some folk have to come,’ Bera said airily. ‘Like Dellingr.’
Hefnir’s face darkened. ‘Why him?’
‘We must have a smith.’
‘There are enough smiths in the Marsh Lands.’
Thorvald coughed. ‘But not ones you can trust.’
Hefnir ran a hand over his beard. ‘The tenant farmers will have to be told but I’ll do it privately. Though I expect they will choose to stay.’
‘If you start giving choices,’ said Bera, ‘it will be the end of secrecy.’
‘Then no one is to tell Dellingr.’
‘He’ll keep his mouth shut,’ Thorvald said. ‘You can trust him.’
Bera was amazed that he should keep supporting the smith. Was he making Dellingr look good so that she was the guilty one?
‘Enough, Thorvald,’ said Hefnir. ‘I can manage this.’
‘With my help,’ Bera said.
Bera was confused again; except for the need to see Dellingr. She would only ask him what he thought about the dam construction, though, and half obey Hefnir.
She told Dellingr everything.
Bera was sorry to watch his smile fade but the relief of telling him was huge. She hoped he might give another explanation of the skern’s vision but he believed the flood was real.
‘I could lose my whole family,’ he said.
The catch in his voice made Bera jealous. She assured him that they needed a smith so he would not be left behind. ‘And your family can come too,’ she grudgingly added.
It only made him more anguished. ‘I’m not taking any man’s place on a boat.’
‘You have to come.’
‘No. It must be a fair choice.’
‘What about Asa and the children?’ She would use them, if he would only come.
‘We’ll go by honourable means, or how could I face folk?’ He rubbed his strong, workman’s hands. Honest hands.
He would not change his mind, so it was up to her to make sure he got onto a boat, as much as she admired his honour. And she was a Valla: she could nudge Fate a bit.
‘I’ll decide how we’ll choose,’ she said. ‘Till then, please don’t say a word, especially to Asa.’
His eyes were like the night sea. ‘I won’t say I like it. Asa and I have no secrets. But I won’t tell her. I don’t want her worrying herself sick and she would, for sure.’
He spat on his hand and they shook on it. Bera felt despicable. She had not been kind to Dellingr, disobeyed Hefnir and ignored her own sense of what was right for the sake of a momentary relief. What was worse, once again she was intending to cheat Fate. What might be the consequences? The ancestors would shriek when she got home. What were the words?
‘Dellinger, can I ask you something? About the old tongue?’
He waited.
‘Every time I pass the threshold the ancestors scream at me. Do you think it’s a prediction?’
He rubbed his cheek. ‘I think stone soaks up happening. My grandfather said it’s a warning to the future.’
‘There are some words they say all the time.’
‘I don’t know words of power. That’s up to a Valla like you.’
Her champion! His belief made her strong enough to deal with the ancestors, whatever their words meant.
‘I can only remember two: Perfidy! Violation!’
He spun away.
‘What?’
‘Don’t come back up here alone.’
‘Tell me!’
‘The words. They mean Betrayal. And Rape.’
She ran. She ran for shame and ran as though Fate herself was at her heels. The ancestors could read her secret desires about Dellingr that she had hidden even from herself.
Bera was at the crossroads when Rakki rammed into the back of her knees, felling her. Heggi was behind. He fell down, panting, totally unable to speak. They lay for a while, exhausted, though Bera was also completely beyond words. The dog capered about, barking continuously. Bera got him sitting for an instant, though he did stop barking.
Then the fact Heggi was out of bed hit her. ‘What are you doing here? And running! You’ll get ill again!’
Heggi waved a hand for time. ‘That... man.’
‘Go on.’
&nbs
p; ‘Man who...’ Heggi started a fit of dry retching. He gingerly felt his belt-bag and pulled away a sticky hand. ‘Gull eggs...’
‘Never mind that. What man? Where?’
He gestured over at the top fields. ‘Digging... thralls.’
‘He’s digging? Oh, come on, Heggi, talk sense.’
He let Rakki lick his hand. ‘Where they’re digging. Talking with a woman.’
‘Which one?’
‘A thrall. How would I know which one?’
‘Try!’
Tears brimmed. ‘Slanty eyes.’
Her! ‘Is the man still here?’
He pointed at the far forest. ‘Went off on that horse.’
‘So why did you run?’
‘It was weird.’
Bera looked at the sky for help.
Heggi kept his lips tight. ‘Well, they spoke like this while he pretended to fix his saddle. It looked shifty.’
‘Did you hear any of it?’
‘No.’
Bera put the crushed eggs down for Rakki to clear up.
‘Papa told me not to give a dog eggs or else it will eat them when it collects them.’
‘Nonsense.’ Bera put her lips to his brow. ‘You’re hot. I shouldn’t have let you go out and get jitters.’
‘I’m hungry.’
‘Starve a fever.’
‘Oh, Bera!’
She took pity on him. ‘You can have something bland as long as you promise to rest afterwards.’
‘What about that man!’
‘Which man? You say it as if I should know!’
Heggi gave a deep, exasperated sigh. ‘Because you do know. The one from before, with a nice horse. The one with black squirls, only this time he had his clothes on.’
Betrayal. Rape.
Bera went in through the byre. Sigrid was at the loom, making a piece to add to the mainsail to make it bigger, she announced as she helped Bera out of her boots.
‘Thorvald has to take a tax to that monster tomorrow!’
‘Heggi just saw him.’
‘Not the Serpent King?’
‘Talking to that slant-eyed thrall.’
‘I told you not one of them’s to be trusted.’
‘Let’s work. We’ll need that sail soon if he’s prowling.’
