by Dan Smith
The teardrop island had no beaches, just black, jagged cliffs. The only way on or off was along a narrow causeway – hardly even wide enough for a cart – that led from the beach to a large wooden gate on the nearside of the island. On either side of the gate, high timber walls circled the clifftop, with a walkway running the whole circumference. Ylva counted eight warriors posted around the fence, where they had a perfect view of land and sea.
Within the walls, a circle of wooden huts was built around a large grey stone building with a tower where two more warriors stood guard. The barley and moss thatch over the buildings was almost completely clear of snow, indicating they were warm inside. Outside the circle of houses, around the edge of the high fence, there was a sturdy barn for horses, and areas cleared for winter vegetables. There were animals, too – chickens and pigs in their own pens.
From where she watched, Ylva saw adults and children moving among the houses, tending to the crops and animals as if it were an ordinary village, but she knew she wasn’t looking at an ordinary village. This was an island fortress. The people who lived here had found a place that was protected from all sides – even from the shallow-draught boats of Viking raiders.
Ylva longed to be inside the fortress, but something made her hesitate. Saxons would populate the island – the same race that had attacked and slaughtered her people when they landed on the beach all those days ago. A Saxon had killed Mother and Geri. Saxons hated Vikings. If Ylva approached the island, would Saxons kill her too?
Cathryn was a Saxon.
Ylva kept her eyes on the island, but she imagined Geri sitting beside her horse. She pictured him with his head up, his ears pricked forward, and his mouth open. His tongue was out to taste the salt in the air, and his black and grey fur was ruffling in the cold breeze that came off the sea.
You could trust Cathryn. This is where she wanted you to come. You’ll be safe here.
48
The Witch
Descending towards the beach, Ylva heard the lyrical ring of a bell chiming within the hollow crash of waves. One of the lookouts on the island must have spotted her approach and sounded the alarm. There was now a flurry of activity among the buildings, people running to gather children and keep out of sight, others taking up arms and making for the walls.
Ylva braced herself for attack as she crossed the sand and urged the horse on to the slippery causeway. The sea smashed the rocks either side of her, spraying her with icy water, engulfing the path before drawing away and leaving seaweed strewn in its wake.
She kept her eyes on the figures standing on the wall nearest the gate and held out her arms to show she meant no harm. Halfway across the causeway, she realized the sea was now swirling around the horse’s hooves and not receding. If anything it was becoming deeper, and to those watching from the wall it might have seemed as if she were riding across the surface of the water.
Shocked, Ylva grabbed the reins and nudged the horse to move faster. At this rate, the ground would be gone in just a few minutes.
As she reached the front gate, Ylva brought the horse to a halt and looked up at the warriors on the wall. She expected them to be men but was surprised to see four women, dressed in leather and mail, each of them aiming a bow at her.
‘Stop there! Who are you?’ one of them shouted down to her.
‘I need help,’ Ylva shouted back. ‘Cathryn sent me.’
‘You’re a Dane.’ The women exchanged glances, before the one who had spoken to her called down again. ‘Who are you? What do you want?’
More women came to join them, looking out towards the beach, scanning the shore.
‘Are you alone?’ they asked.
‘Cathryn sent me,’ Ylva yelled over the crashing of waves. ‘I have Bron. Please.’ The water was around the horse’s fetlocks now, approaching his knees. Before long it would be touching his belly. ‘Let us in.’
‘Where’s Cathryn?’
‘Gone,’ Ylva said. ‘Please! Let us in.’ She grabbed the back of Bron’s tunic and pulled him up so his head lolled back and his face was towards the sky. ‘He needs help!’ Ylva frantically looked around at the deepening water. ‘Please!’
The women spoke among themselves, words that were lost in the roar of breakers smashing against the island, then one of them leant to the side and shouted down. ‘Let them in!’
A moment later, the gate drew back and Ylva’s horse surged forward without encouragement. It waded across the end of the causeway and stepped up on to the island.
As soon as Ylva was on dry land, two women pushed the gate closed. Beyond it, the causeway was now completely submerged.
‘Good thing you came across when you did, child.’ One of the gatekeepers came to take the reins of Ylva’s horse and steady it. She wore a mail vest and carried a spear in her left hand. ‘If you’d tried it a few moments later, the sea would’ve had you.’ Her long hair blew in the wind. ‘What happened to Bron?’
‘He’s hurt,’ Ylva said. ‘I need the Witch. Where is she?’
‘She’s up at the abbey.’ The woman pointed to the large, grey stone building in the centre of the island. ‘I’ll take—’
Ylva dug her heels into the horse’s flanks and the reins tore out of the woman’s hands.
‘Hey!’
Ylva ignored the shouts and galloped towards the centre of the island. When she came closer to the abbey, the front door opened, and an old woman stepped out. She wore a plain linen dress with a woollen cloak wrapped around her shoulders. Long grey hair was pulled up to the top of her head and tied in an untidy twist. She rested one hand on her hip as she watched Ylva approach. A mangy grey dog slipped out behind her and started barking, but the old woman ignored it.
Ylva jumped down from the horse and reached up for Bron. ‘Help him,’ she said to the old woman.
The boy had no strength at all. He slipped sideways, and Ylva took as much of his weight as she could to soften his fall into the snow. ‘Help him!’ Ylva turned and shouted at the old woman. ‘Please.’
Every inch of the old woman’s skin was wrinkled like a dried riverbed, and her brown, watery eyes were set deep. Her lips were so thin they were hardly even there.
There was a flurry of movement as warriors formed a semicircle behind Ylva, brandishing swords and spears. ‘Stop there! Stay where you are!’
But Ylva didn’t even look back to acknowledge them. ‘He’s hurt.’ She took Bron under the shoulders and dragged him towards the old stone abbey. ‘Please. Why won’t you help me?’
‘Bron!’ A younger woman hurried out from the hall and came straight to help Ylva. ‘What happened to him?’ She took hold of Bron’s feet. ‘Mother, get out of the way. And one of you come and help me.’
The old woman stepped aside, and one of the warriors came forward, but Ylva refused to let them help as she and the young woman carried Bron into the warmth of the abbey.
‘It’s bad,’ Ylva said as they took him to a room at the back and put him on a straw-covered bed. The dog followed, sniffing at the wounded boy, so the woman shooed it back out into the main room. It went to the fire and collapsed in a curled heap.
‘What happened to him?’ The woman ran her fingers along Bron’s cheek.
‘Stabbed,’ Ylva said. ‘Right here.’ She opened his cloak to show her.
The woman immediately removed the scarf Ylva had used to cover the injury. She gently touched the skin close to the wound then looked up at Ylva. ‘You’re a Dane – did you do this? Did you hurt him?’
‘No.’
‘What about Cathryn?’
‘She died.’
‘Leave us.’ The woman closed her eyes and took a deep breath to compose herself.
‘You have to help him. Please, he—’
‘Leave us.’
So Ylva left her with Bron, and returned to the main hall.
The building was bigger and stronger than anything Ylva had seen before. Its ceiling was so high she had to put her head back to see the
cracked and faded paintings that covered it. The grey stone floor was strewn with skins and furs to make it warmer and more homely, and the walls were decorated with a collection of tapestries. Arranged around a central firepit, there were five long tables with benches either side that would each seat as many as eight people.
‘Come here.’ The old woman was taking a steaming pot from the fire. ‘Come.’
‘Are you the Witch?’ Ylva asked. ‘You need to help Bron.’
‘Such a strong girl.’ The old woman held the pot in one wrinkled hand and reached out for Ylva with the other. Her nails were thick and hard. Her knuckles were swollen and gnarled.
When Ylva recoiled, the old woman waggled her fingers, making it clear she wanted Ylva to take her hand.
‘No.’ Ylva stepped back.
The old woman thrust her hand closer, so Ylva put her own behind her back and shook her head. ‘What’s the matter with you?’ Ylva asked. ‘Why don’t you get in there and—’
The old woman put down the pot and grabbed Ylva’s wrist to pull her hand from behind her back. ‘You’re strong,’ she said. ‘You’ve come far. But you’re not as alone as you think.’
Ylva snatched her hand away and glared at the woman. ‘You’re the Witch,’ she said. ‘You need to help Bron.’
‘Do I look like a witch?’
‘Yes.’
The old woman chuckled. It was a rattling, guttural sound that turned into a cough. ‘Well, child, looks can be deceiving. Things aren’t always as you think. My daughter Mildred is the one you need. Cathryn always called her younger sister “the Witch”.’
‘Her sister? She’s Cathryn’s sister?’
‘Yes. And she will do everything she can to help Bron, I promise you that.’ The old woman put a cloth into Ylva’s hand and pointed at the pot. ‘Take that to her; she’ll need your help.’
Ylva took the pot of boiling water into the room at the back. Mildred hardly spoke, other than to tell Ylva what to do, and as they worked to save Bron’s life, Ylva watched her, thinking that she didn’t look like a witch at all. And there was hardly any resemblance to her sister, Cathryn, except in her eyes.
At last, Mildred wrapped Bron’s wound with a cloth bandage and stepped away from the bed.
‘Will he live?’ Ylva asked.
‘We’ve done everything we can,’ Mildred said. ‘The only thing left is to wait and to pray.’ She motioned to a stool. ‘Why don’t you sit down and tell me who you are?’
So Ylva sat down and told her everything.
49
Home
She began with the moment she and Mother set sail from their village, and ended with the moment she saw the island. Mildred sat with her hands folded in her lap and spoke only to ask her a question or two, and when Ylva had finished recounting her saga, Mildred told her to wait, and left her alone with Bron.
Ylva sat for a long time, watching the rise and fall of Bron’s chest, and when Cathryn’s sister finally returned she asked her, ‘What is this place? Who are you people? I’ve seen only women. Shield-maidens.’
‘Does that frighten you?’
Ylva thought about how strong Cathryn had been, and how she had protected her. ‘No. It feels safe.’
‘Good. Now, I know you must have many questions,’ Mildred said, ‘and I promise I will answer them all in time, but first I want you to come with me. There are some people you should meet.’
When they returned to the main hall, there were children sitting at three of the tables. At least twenty boys and girls of all ages, sitting in silence, faces turned towards Ylva.
‘This island is a safe place,’ Mildred said. ‘And these are all the children Cathryn has brought to us. Children who were taken as slaves, but freed by Cathryn.’
And suddenly it made sense. Ylva hadn’t wanted to believe the three-fingered man when he told her that Cathryn and Bron stole slaves to sell them, but now she knew it wasn’t true. They had rescued them. They had saved them not stolen them. That was something she could believe. That made sense.
‘Cathryn wanted to fill every seat at every table we have,’ Mildred said. ‘And there’s a seat for you if you want it. You’re safe, Ylva. This is your home now.’
Safe, Geri whispered.
And finally, it was the right time for tears.
Glossary
All-Father – Odin, the supreme god in Norse mythology.
Bearded Axe – Also known as a ‘skeggox’. The ‘beard’ of this type of axe is the lower part of the cutting edge that extends below the main width of the blade to provide a longer edge. The beard of the axe was used to hook an enemy’s weapon and pull it out of their grasp, or to hook over a shield and pull it downwards.
Beck – A brook or stream with a stony bed. ‘Beck’ is commonly used in northern England, and derives from the Old Norse word ‘bekkr’.
Berserker – A warrior who was said to wear a bearskin into battle. People believed that the spirits of bears possessed these warriors and gave them great strength.
Draugr (plural draugar) – An animated corpse that guards treasure, or wreaks vengeance on those who have done them wrong in life. They are horrible to look at and have superhuman strength.
Fenrir – The giant wolf that is one of the children of Loki and the giantess Angrboda. In Norse mythology, Fenrir is chained up by the gods but is destined to break his chains and fight Thor at the time of Ragnarök.
Fimbulvetr – Three years of terrible winter that will come before Ragnarök.
Freki – One of the two wolves that accompanies the god Odin. The wolves sit beside Odin at his feasting table and eat the food he throws to them. The other wolf is called Geri. Some believed that all wolves were descended from Geri and Freki.
Freya – The goddess of love and fertility, who sits in the great hall Sessrumnir. She is said to weep tears of gold.
Gaut – A person from Gautland.
Gautland – An area in the south of what is now known as Sweden.
Geirrod – A giant who tried to kill Thor by making Loki bring Thor to his castle without his magic belt and hammer.
Geri – One of the two wolves that accompanies the god Odin. The wolves sit beside Odin at his feasting table and eat the food he throws to them. The other wolf is called Freki. Some believed that all wolves were descended from Geri and Freki.
Great Heathen Army – Also known as the Great Viking Army, this was created when Norse warriors who usually fought in smaller raiding groups came together to form a single army. Made up of fighters mainly from Denmark, Sweden and Norway, the army invaded England in AD 865. Legend has it that the army was led by the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok.
Hel – The daughter of Loki, she is half-alive and half-dead. She rules over the realm of the dead, which is also called ‘Hel’.
Huginn – One of Odin’s two ravens that flies over Midgard and brings news. The other is called Muninn.
Idun – The Norse goddess who owns and guards the golden apples that give eternal youth and immortality.
Idun’s Apples – The golden apples of youth. Eating the apples keeps the Norse gods young and healthy.
Jarl – A Norse or Danish chieftain often in control of a village. Jarls were second in importance to the king.
Jormungandr – The giant serpent that is, according to the legends, one of the children of Loki and the giantess Angrboda. Also known as the Midgard Serpent or the World Serpent, Jormungandr is said to circle Midgard and bite on his own tail.
Kohl – An ancient eye cosmetic often used to darken the area around the eyes.
Loki – The mischief-making god.
Mare – An evil spirit that sits on a person’s chest and gives them nightmares while they are sleeping.
Midgard – One of the nine realms of Norse mythology, Midgard is the middle world, the world of men.
Muninn – One of Odin’s two ravens that flies over Midgard and brings news. The other is called Huginn.
Niflheim – One of the nine rea
lms of Norse mythology, Niflheim is the realm of cold, mist and darkness.
Norns – The three goddesses who, according to Norse mythology, spin the fates of all creatures, including the gods. Viking warriors fought bravely in battle because they believed their fate had already been decided by the Norns.
Odin – The supreme god in Norse mythology, who sits in the great hall Valhalla.
Ragnar Lothbrok (or Lodbrok) – A popular Norse hero and legendary Viking warrior. His name means Ragnar ‘Hairy Breeches’, and he was so-called because he wore hairy animal-skin trousers.
Ragnarök – The final, apocalyptic battle involving all creation, in which almost all life will be destroyed.
Saga – Story.
Skald – A person who told poems and sagas, and recited them at feasts and gatherings to honour great heroes and their brave deeds.
Sleipnir – Odin’s eight-legged horse.
Thor – The son of Odin, Thor is the thunder god. He is the second most important god in Norse mythology, and is seen as the keeper of law and order. While warriors prayed to Odin, the common people prayed to Thor.
Thrall – Slave.
Tine River – The River Tyne.
Ulfhednar – Warriors who were said to wear wolfskins into battle. People believed that the spirits of wolves possessed these warriors and gave them special powers.
Valhalla – A huge hall watched over by Odin, where dead warriors fight and feast as they await Ragnarök.
Valkyries – Young women who collect warriors killed on the battlefield and take them to Valhalla.
Yggdrasil – Sometimes called the World Tree, this is the mythical ash tree that links all nine realms of Norse mythology.