‘Come my beauties. Here. Will you let me catch you? Will you let me ride you?’ They were too tired to respond and it was easy to tie them and give them to Ansgar to lead back to the monastery.
‘But what about you, Sigrid?’
‘I’ll go on a little bit further. The others can’t be very far.’
I resumed my whistling. There was no reply. I felt so strongly that North Wind was near so, against my better judgement, I continued along the faint track deeper into the forest.
I hadn’t planned to stay out over night but I miscalculated how far I’d ridden and was overtaken by the dark. My belly screamed for lack of food. I lit a small fire and rolled myself in my cloak. With Dragonclaw in one hand and my Mjolner amulet in the other I sat down to wait out the night. The dark holds many terrors; wolves and bears are frightening enough but there are other forces that go searching for human blood and human minds and where cold steel does not bite. I strained my eyes to see through the shadows thinking there was the hulk of a troll hungry for my flesh, the pale fetch of one who died wronged and had left his grave to take revenge on someone alive, a cloud of harpies ready to surround me and suck the air out of my lungs. I became more and more tense. Each one of the small sounds that make up the forest night seemed a noise like thunder. I started at the rustling of dry leaves, a twig falling from a tree, an owl hooting. Then something else; footsteps, heavy, cracking twigs, kicking tree-stumps and stones. More than one. Marching with even steps towards me. What a fool to draw attention to myself with a fire. To fear spirits and elves when men were afoot.
I retreated into the shadow behind a tree. I couldn’t run, and with my eyes used to the firelight I saw nothing in the dark. I would have to defend myself or hope they were as blind as I was. But that sound of snorting was not human, neither did it come from a troll. I smiled, whistled and North Wind stepped into the field of light followed by Gunnhild’s mare and another two belonging to her ladies. I flung my arms round North Wind’s neck.
‘Traitor,’ I said and laughed at the possibility of Eirik’s stables being graced by North Wind’s foals. ‘They don’t deserve you.’
The next morning I found three of my own Becklund stallions. They were unhurt and easy enough to catch. I thanked Odin and riding North Wind, with Eirik’s nag on a tether I drove my herd back to the monastery.
Chapter 3
Queen Gunnhild’s Curse
May 948
Our preparations for the ride back to Jorvik took a long time. Gunnhild was impatient and bad tempered but reluctantly accepted that we had to care for the exhausted, injured horses. She and her ladies needed suitable clothing and footwear as we were likely to have to spend some nights in the open. Ansgar, Olvir and Vida scoured the village for necessities but we were still not ready when Wulfstan’s scout, gaunt and hollow-eyed, arrived. He bent his knee to Gunnhild.
‘Queen Gunnhild, I bring words from Archbishop Wulfstan. He warns that Jorvik is too dangerous and wishes you to seek refuge at your niece’s farm.’
‘The Archbishop does not tell me what to do,’ snapped Gunnhild. ‘The King has pursued the Saxon invader and I am confident that the enemy has been routed and the Kingdom of Jorvik is safe.’
‘Your Majesty is only partly right. King Eirik caught up with a rear guard of Saxons at Castleford and there was a great slaughter. But the victory brought danger. King Aedred, in a fury has turned back with his army and sworn to revenge himself on Eirik and the jarls. There’s no telling where he’s heading first but there will be fighting. The Saxon and Mercian hordes have already begun ravaging the land. People are suffering. Nowhere in the Kingdom of Jorvik is safe.’
Gunnhild was proud and stubborn but she was not stupid. We set off for Becklund the next day. Needless to say, nobody asked if I’d be happy to receive Gunnhild and her entourage as my guests. Of course I was not. Fear and happiness mixed in my heart. I had been separated from my children for so long the prospect of hugging them all to my chest made me tremble with anticipation. But I also feared for them and spent most of the ride trying to figure out ways of keeping them out of Gunnhild’s way. I persuaded myself that I would be on home ground and if needs be I could send them to stay with our relatives at Buttermere or Rannerdale.
We made good speed. Aedred’s army had moved east and once we entered Cumbria Gunnhild should be safe from them. I still felt it was better if nobody knew that the wife of King Eirik Bloodaxe would be staying in my hall. Her value as hostage might be too much of a temptation to someone in need of gold. On the horizon pillars of smoke testified to Aedred’s progress through the land. Even after I felt sure we were no longer in the Kingdom of Jorvik, I avoided settled areas. We camped in the open with only one small fire to roast whatever my hird had been able to hunt. Gunnhild’s ladies were not used to such a life but anyone daring to complain was subject to her icy comments and soon learnt to suffer in silence. Her children, the boys at least, treated it as an adventure and my hird did their best to keep them amused and take their minds off the dangers.
It was a cold, miserable spring and we were soaked to the skin, weary and hungry by the time we reached Becklund. I sent Olvir ahead to alert the household. We rode into the yard in driving rain. Servants stood ready to take the horses and inside the hall a fire blazed the whole length of the hearth. Olvir had warned Varg to stay away and it was Aluinn who handed the horn of ale to Gunnhild. I had sent word for Thorstein to be kept in the house but my three older children lined up to pay their respects to the royal visitor. Kveldulf and Harald bent their knees to her and Gudrun managed a very pretty curtsy. Queen Gunnhild was tired but her piercing eyes rested on my children one by one with a calculating expression. I had to stop myself from standing in front of them as a shield.
The hall had a room, separated from the main area by a plank wall and with a drape serving as door. I put this to Gunnhild’s disposal and she and her ladies withdrew to get dry by the brazier. I sent Aluinn with such clothing as we were able to provide. My dresses, which I hardly ever wore, suited all except Bertha. The recent hardship had done little to reduce her girth. In the end we found a dress I’d worn in the last month of my recent confinement and it fitted her perfectly.
Only then was I able to embrace my children. I covered baby Thorstein’s face with kisses and kept blinking away my tears. Kveldulf was a bit awkward and stiff. I sensed he felt too old to be petted. This reminded me that he was now twelve years old and ready to be introduced as an adult at the next Thing. Harald, always affectionate and considerate, led me to the high seat.
‘Sit and rest, Mor,’ he said. ‘I’ll get someone to dry your hair and bring fresh clothes.’ Gudrun climbed on to my lap, put her soft arms round my neck and leant her head against my shoulder.
‘You’ll get wet, my little one,’ I said.
‘Doesn’t matter,’ she said and snuggled closer. Kirsten arrived with a sheet to dry me off and with her own spare dress for me to wear.
‘I’m afraid all your clothes are used by the Queen and her ladies.’
‘Thank you Kirsten.’ I stepped out of my soaking wet tunic and trousers. Kveldulf averted his eyes but Harald studied my stretch marks with interest.
‘They’re the ones I made aren’t they,’ he said.
‘Yes you were a big lump of a baby.’ We laughed as Kirsten rubbed me dry. Her dress was simple but warm and, as I secured the pinafore with my brooches, I felt a surge of wellbeing. I sat down with a contented sigh and Kirsten began unravelling my wet plaits. Gudrun crept up on my lap again.
‘It’s good you’re back,’ she whispered, her breath warm on my ear. ‘We must decide on a name for my horse. Varg and Harald and Kveldulf just argue with me so you’ll have to decide but I know you’ll agree with me.’
‘Oh,’ I said and kissed her, ‘so what name have you chosen for your little mare?’
‘I think she should be called Rainbow Rider.’
‘Hmm, well it’s a bit unusual. You know who rides acros
s the rainbow, don’t you?’
‘Yes, the Valkyries when they come to collect dead warriors from the battlefield. Mor, will they come for you? Cause you’re a warrior aren’t you?’
‘Oh shut up Gudrun,’ Kveldulf snapped. ‘Mor, she’s getting really stupid about this. She thinks she’ll be a Valkyrie. We’ve all tried to explain but she’s hopeless.’
‘No, I’m not. Moooooor, tell him, he’s being nasty to me again. I’ll show you all. You just wait and see.’
‘It’ll be a long wait,’ Kveldulf said with a sigh.
‘There probably isn’t enough time before Ragnarok,’ Harald sniggered. Gudrun’s lower lip trembled, she slid off my lap and aimed a kick at Kveldulf’s leg. He grabbed hold of her and forced her down into a kneeling position. I grabbed his arm and made him let go. Gudrun ran out of the door shouting dire threats at her brothers. What was happening to my happy reunion with my three eldest children?
‘Kveldulf, Harald, what an appalling way to treat your sister! You should be ashamed of yourselves. Go find her and make up with her. I want all three of you back here, friends. Is that clear?’
‘We’re only joking, Mor,’ said Harald. Kveldulf shrugged his shoulders.
‘Go! And I said friends.’
Kirsten smiled.
‘Gudrun is becoming a bit of a handful,’ she said. ‘Thorstein is a good baby though. I think you’re dry and warm enough for him now.
Thorstein had thrived in my absence. He was not yet two years old and still occasionally taking the breast. I swallowed my jealousy and praised the thrall woman who had been his wet-nurse. She handed him over. He cried. The nightmare was back: a baby that had forgotten me, like Kveldulf all those years ago. But this was different. The thrall woman wrapped her arms round both of us and cooed gently until Thorstein calmed down. She left us and my happiness was great as I curled up on my bed, leaned back on the bolsters and drew the curtains. With a sigh of contentment I put Thorstein to my breast. He latched on and tried to suckle. He pulled but there was nothing there for him. My body didn’t respond and my baby cried for want of my milk. I cried for the loss of my ability to feed him. The curtains opened and the thrall woman peered in at me.
‘It’s been much too long,’ she said and with an air of entitlement she sat down next to me and took Thorstein. I looked at her full breasts and I felt a surge of envy. She patted me on the knee.
‘It’s the price you pay.’
‘How dare you!’ I raised my hand to slap her but quick as a thought she caught my arm and held it.
‘I mean no disrespect. But it’s how it is. I’ve seen it before. Queens and noblewomen, none of them suckle their babies. Do you think she,’ she lowered her voice and nodded towards the hall where I had left Gunnhild and her entourage. ‘You think she’s ever had a baby at her breast? Nonono. Far too busy being queen. She made her choice, you see. You try to do it all. Well, you can’t. You’re either mother or warrior. You can’t be both. Now hold his hand while he suckles and then you take him. He’s ready to be weaned anyway.
I obeyed. What else could I do?
I had dreaded bringing Gunnhild to Becklund while Kirsten was there. But there was no time to send Kirsten away and, as it turned out Gunnhild didn’t take much notice of any of my household. She was subdued, her ladies even more so but her young children were happy to join mine in their games around the farm. Little Gudred had taken a great liking to Cerdic Flatnose. Ever since Cerdic carried him out of the burning Minster, the lad had followed him like a shadow. Cerdic was kind and patient and took time to answer questions and show him how to carve wood. Cerdic’s own children, Inga and Ole, found the royal youngster highly amusing and took to treating him as an affectionate puppy. In the evenings they sat him between them and fed him while they listened to the men boasting and reminiscing. Often he fell asleep with his head in Inga’s lap. I looked at them and felt happy for the boy but couldn’t help wondering what Gunnhild would think. Gunnhild was never very interested in her children and their pastimes and didn’t seem to mind. Until one day Cerdic came to see me.
‘Mistress Sigrid, I don’t know how to handle this. The lad, I mean the young prince. It’s, ah, I, you see…’
‘Cerdic, is the boy becoming a nuisance?’
‘No, no, it’s not that. Well, maybe, you see, he’s asked if I can be his father.’
‘What!’
‘Yes. He doesn’t understand. He’s only young after all. But the Queen…’
‘Odin’s beard, has she noticed?’
‘She sent one of her ladies, the fat one, to get the boy. She wasn’t very nice about it.’
‘When was this?’
‘Just now. Listen.’
‘Oh, for Odin’s sake! She’s caning him!’
‘Mistress, I know you don’t use stick or strap on your children but there are many who do.’ He touched the cross he wore round his neck and whispered: ‘Oh, my dear lord Jesus, see to the child.’ We stood listening to the screams and crying. Cerdic looked ready to cry in sympathy with Gudred.
‘Mistress, I feel right guilty but I did nothing to encourage the little mite. He was just lonely.’
‘It’s no fault of yours Cerdic. I shall go and speak to her.’ Cerdic had never been anything less than respectful towards me but the look he gave me then was the sort heroes are afforded by their admirers.
I didn’t feel particularly heroic as I sought out Gunnhild where she resided in Ragnar’s and my private room. I waited until the crying had ceased.
‘Is there anything the matter with young Gudred? I heard him cry. I hope he’s not unwell.’ Gunnhild’s eyes were those of a viper ready to spring. Cold shivers chased each other down my spine. But her voice was no more unfriendly than usual.
‘Thank you for your concern. Gudred is very well. He’s just learnt a lesson about how a prince is expected to behave.’
Why oh why, did I not leave it at that? Why didn’t I just nod and leave? Instead I tilted my head to one side and raised my eyebrows. That gave Gunnhild the opportunity to spray her venom.
‘Your own children would benefit from a few lessons in how to conduct themselves with servants. I would be so happy to help.’ I felt my jaw go slack and my mouth open. I managed to mumble a reply:
‘I am most grateful to your Majesty but my children are a constant source of pleasure and pride to me and I …’
‘Ha,’ she exclaimed, ‘gratitude, you do not know the meaning of the word.’ Somewhat belatedly, I curtsied and left.
Ragnar and his hird arrived at Becklund soon after my set-to with Gunnhild. He accepted that we’d been ousted from our chamber and joined me in a box bed previously used by Kveldulf and Harald. In the evenings we sat side by side in the high seat while our warriors and servants filled the hall with talk and laughter. Harald played the harp, Kirsten sang her Norwegian songs and I told the old stories of Aesirs and giants. Gunnhild and her ladies kept to their quarters and had their meals brought to them there. That was of course a snub but I really didn’t mind. Occasionally little Gudred could be seen peeping through the drapes with a wistful look on his face. Apart from him, the arrangement suited everyone and I enjoyed a rare time of family life. After a couple of days Anlaf and Orm asked to go home to Rannerdale and, with the rest of Ragnar’s hird to defend my hall, I agreed.
Our peaceful existence was interrupted by the arrival of a dusty, exhausted messenger.
‘Mistress Sigrid, King Eirik Haraldson will arrive tomorrow and requires your hospitality for himself and his hird.’ The news made me feel sick to the stomach. My only consolation was that Eirik never stayed anywhere for very long and hopefully he’d take his family with him when he left. I handed the messenger over to Vida.
‘Find out what you can,’ I whispered. She smiled and winked. I instructed Aluinn to prepare sleeping quarters for Eirik’s hird in one of the barns. I assigned a half-dozen thralls to help her and unlocked the chests that held spare fleeces. Then I couldn’t delay a
ny further but had to go and tell Gunnhild.
‘When did this messenger arrive? Why am I not the first to know? Where is the man? He should be here, with me, delivering the King’s words to me.’
‘He was in sore need to relieve himself,’ I lied. ‘I shall fetch him directly.’ I walked as slowly as I could whilst reflecting that, if only half the tales of her shapeshifting were true, she’d already know about the messenger and probably also his message.
The poor man left the bowl of curds and horn of ale and went, with the air of a condemned man, to find Gunnhild. I sat down with Vida.
‘What did you find out?’
‘It seems your uncle is on the run. He was too successful in his attack on the soldiers at Castleford and when King Aedred found out he turned his army round and headed for Jorvik. That scared the merchants and they persuaded the Jarls to send King Eirik packing.’ I thought I knew but asked anyway:
‘So who’s King of Jorvik now?’
‘Anlaf Sithricson, the one called Cuaran. The Jarls pledged their loyalty to King Aedred and he approved their choice of king. So the fighting is over.’ She smiled. ‘A least for the time being.’ I nodded. Vida had seen more of the fighting between the Northmen and Saxons than most.
Eirik arrived with only his own hird. Mercenaries were costly and without the support of the Jarls and their hirds and the merchants and their money he no longer had an army.
‘I shall stay with you, Niece,’ he said’ ‘until I can make my way to Orkney where I have friends who will give me ships and men.’ As custom and breeding demanded, I curtsied and bade him stay for as long as he wished. I managed to smile but inwardly I cursed.
The mood in my hall changed with the arrival of Eirik and his hird. Ragnar and his warriors had fought side by side with them and they shared ale and stories where they outdid each other in bragging about their heroics. But my warriors, servants and thralls had Eirik’s last visit in fresh memory and kept their distance. Many of them glared at Eirik’s warriors with undisguised hostility. I sent Varg to stay at Buttermere but I couldn’t send them all away. I went in dread of old scores demanding to be settled. I kept reminding my household that I would not tolerate any shows of animosity. My five warrior women were particularly aggrieved.
Honour is All Page 7