Honour is All

by Marianne Whiting

  ‘Those sons of serpents,’ they muttered.

  ‘Anyone heard to goad them will find herself working the querns,’ I told them.

  ‘But Sigrid Kveldulfsdaughter, they taunt us.’

  ‘They’re bragging bastards.’

  ‘You have to ignore them, don’t listen.’

  ‘They give us looks and smirk.’

  ‘Enough! I will not have my hird breaking the peace. Is that clear?’

  They nodded but with sullen faces and I didn’t feel this was an issue where I could entirely trust them. The servants were no better and I was exhausted from the need to be vigilant all the time. Eirik’s hird enjoyed the situation and made sure my people knew. Violence was a constant groundswell in the hall but it was contained, not thanks to Eirik but to Gunnhild. She had decided to join us at table and I was grateful that she did. She had only to look at Eirik’s warriors to silence them.

  The hird included Eirik’s elder sons. There was nothing remarkable about these my cousins, destined to be warriors like their father they were brought up to be ruthless and single minded. They joined the rest of Eirik’s hird and spent the days hunting or at weapons practice and the evenings drinking and pestering my women.

  ‘Sigrid Kveldulfsdaughter, you must protect us from those savages,’ said Kirsten, ‘you know what happened last time.’

  ‘Yes,’ I sighed, ‘you may all lock yourselves in the forge at night. I’ll tell Ylva to make sure there’s always an armed warrior among you. Then we’ll have to trust Queen Gunnhild to keep her sons and her husband’s men under control.’

  But Gunnhild could not be everywhere.

  The sound of Unn’s scream reached me as I returned from the lake with Gudrun and Thorstein, both soaking wet and very happy.

  ‘Take your brother,’ I said to Gudrun and ran towards the noise. Unn sounded like that on the battlefield. I had never heard that high pitched shriek elsewhere. It came from the sauna, muffled and mixed with the raucous laughter of men in a state of excitement. Unn’s voice was now barely audible. The men laughed, egging each other on. Dragonclaw in hand I threw open the door. Haeric and three men had wrestled Unn to the floor. Haeric had one knee on each of her shoulders, one large, hairy hand held a rag in place over her mouth the other pulled her hair. Another man pinned one of her legs down and a third man with his trousers around his ankles held her other leg with one hand while he tore at her clothes with the other. Dragonclaw hummed, thirsty for blood and revenge for this outrage.

  I had intended to use the flat of the sword on the man’s naked buttocks. This humiliation tactic had worked once before. This time it didn’t. He turned when I was in mid-strike. Dragonclaw slipped, cut a deep furrow along his hip and ended by reducing the size of his manhood by half. His scream echoed to the very end of the world and he crumpled with his hands over his mutilated member. Blood welled in a thick stream onto the flagstones. Haeric and the other man, open mouthed and goggle eyed, let go of Unn and fumbled for their swords. I put Dragonclaw to Haeric’s throat.

  ‘Your sword stays in its sheath and you live. If not I have enough gold to pay for the pleasure of killing you.’

  Unn was on her feet, knife in hand and fire in her eyes. Haeric’s friend ran. She followed. I took the risk of turning my back to Haeric and went after them. Unn’s furious shrieks told me and anyone else within earshot that she was blind to reason, in the grip of battle fury. She pursued the man into the lake. He was a good swimmer. That wasn’t enough to save his life. I watched him go under, return to the surface with a weak shout for help and disappear for good below the blood coloured water. Ylva arrived and went into the lake after Unn. Kveldulf and Cerdic got a rowing boat and caught up with them. They kept alongside the girls until first Ylva then Unn were too exhausted to continue and were hauled onboard.

  ‘There was no reaching her,’ said Ylva.

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘when she’s in the grip of fury she cannot hear you. It was best what you did, let her tire herself out until she could be brought back. Take her to the hall and let her sleep it off.’

  I told Kveldulf, Cerdic and the other onlookers that had arrived, that the man had challenged Unn to a race. Nobody questioned my version of events, some may even have believed it.

  The body of the would-be rapist washed ashore a couple of days later. The man I had castrated died from loss of blood. I got my thralls to bury them in secret, away from the farm. They were quite happy to do that, none in my household would shed any tears for them. Nor, it seemed, did anyone else. Two men missing from the hird and no questions asked.

  ‘I heard Haeric tell Eirik that the two had quarrelled and killed each other.’

  ‘What did Eirik say? Did he believe him?’

  ‘He told Haeric to keep his friends under control. Or rather, Queen Gunnhild told him.’

  Haeric didn’t his father and step-mother what had happened. But that didn’t mean he was prepared to forget.

  ‘I shall have your blood,’ he hissed. ‘Yours and that of your cocky sons. One for each of my friends and one for humiliating me. You’ll regret that. Don’t think you’re safe. I’ll get you sooner or later.’

  Gunnhild was an unsettling presence at Becklund but her eleven year old daughter Ragnhild was also a problem. The girl had not inherited her mother’s beauty, for if you didn’t look too carefully into Gunnhild’s eyes where her powers were clearly visible, she was beautiful. Ragnhild was not ugly, her hair was the colour of acorn and her skin was clean but she bore a permanent expression of dissatisfaction, a frown that made you hesitate to speak to her and wonder if you had offended her and how. Now she decided she wanted to marry Kveldulf. Our opposition to this match was the only thing ever to unite me and Gunnhild. But the girl knew how to manage her father and Eirik was persuaded that Kveldulf was just the man for his daughter. Ragnar treated it as a joke. The boy himself was terrified.

  ‘Mor, they can’t make me, can they?’

  ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘Hehe,’ said Harald, ‘they can use love potions and you’ll fall madly in love with her and not be able to resist.’

  ‘Who asked your opinion?’ Kveldulf pushed his younger brother.

  ‘And then you’ll wake up after your wedding and it’ll be too late, hahaha!’

  ‘Harald stop it!’ I said. But my middle son was in full flow.

  ‘And she’ll make you her slave. And you’ll forget all about you-know-who.’ I only just got to him before Kveldulf. I dragged him outside by the ear.

  ‘Mooor, it hurts.’

  ‘Not as much as what Kveldulf was about to do to you. Now will you stop teasing him. Go and help Olvir in the stables.’ He slouched off, still sniggering. Kveldulf sat cross legged on one of the sleeping platforms. I perched next to him.

  ‘You mustn’t worry about this. And, please, don’t let Harald get to you.’ He grunted something which I interpreted as agreement. ‘By the way, who is this you-know-who?’

  ‘Nobody.’ He unfolded his long legs and sauntered out. I was left looking after the tall, gangly figure of my child who, it seemed, had only yesterday been a chubby little boy giving me great hugs and needing his tears dried.

  One worrying aspect of Eirik’s stay was that he and Ragnar enjoyed each other’s company; telling stories and comparing experiences from their raiding. Kveldulf and the other youngsters clustered around them to listen with open mouths.

  ‘I shall leave in two day’s time,’ said Eirik one evening. ’I need men who are ready to go a-viking with me.’ I didn’t need to see his meaningful look at Ragnar to know that my brief interlude of family-life was over.

  I was in the sleeping-alcove feeding Thorstein a mash of bilberries that Gudrun had brought him. The hangings parted and Ragnar crept in next to us.

  ‘Hello Shieldmaiden,’ he said and stretched out on the furs. The planks groaned under his weight. He pulled a bolster under his head.

  ‘Don’t lie down, Ragnar, you’ll only fall asleep.’<
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  ‘You know, for once you’re right. Come, let’s go for a walk.’

  We went across the yard and down towards the lake. He took my hand and I knew he was going to say goodbye.

  ‘I’m going a-viking with Eirik.’

  ‘I thought you would. We’ll miss you.’ He stroked Thorstein’s downy head with the tips of his fingers.

  ‘I’ll miss you too.’

  ‘It’s been so nice to have you home, Ragnar. I don’t suppose you’d be able to delay going until after the Thing this autumn? Kveldulf is old enough to be initiated and it would be good to have you there. Your eldest son, it’s an important event.’ He drew a deep breath, let it out slowly and said:

  ‘Kveldulf is coming with me.’

  ‘Nooo!’ I snatched my hand from his. Thorstein began to cry. I checked myself and tried to calm him by shushing and humming. When he fell silent again I struggled to keep my voice steady. ‘You, you can’t do this. Ragnar, you can’t.’ He tried to put his arms round me. I took a step back.

  ‘He’s so young, Ragnar.’

  ‘He’s an adult. You said yourself he’s old enough to take his place at the Thing. I was only his age when my father took me on my first raid.’

  ‘As for your father, Ragnar Sweinson!’ I hissed, ‘he’s hardly an example you should follow.’

  ‘Watch your tongue, Sigrid.’ We’d raised our voices again and Thorstein bawled with the full power of his lungs. I rocked him and walked a few paces back and forth. It gave me time to calm myself.

  ‘He’s not ready, he’s not had enough weapons practice. I’ve been in child, you’ve been away…’

  ‘He’ll get enough practice. Don’t deny him this adventure. Eirik Bloodaxe, Sigrid, the great warrior, the most successful raider. There’s honour and gold to gain for anyone following him. We’ll be back for Yule. And what a Yule we shall have! Sigrid you know this is the right thing for our son. The great-grandson of Harald Finehair can not stay at home while there’s adventure to be had. Come Sigrid, you must know it’s right for him to go.’

  And yes, of course, I knew. I knew I had to let go, I knew I should encourage Kveldulf to seek his fortune. As so often, I thought of my mother who had swallowed her fearful comments and blessed me when I went into battle. Now it was my turn, I must do the same with my child.

  So a couple of days later I fought off my tears and said farewell to my husband and my eldest son.

  ‘Watch out for Haeric,’ I told Kveldulf.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Just do. He is not your friend. Don’t turn your back to him.’

  ‘Is this anything to do with the one who drowned? Nobody believed your story but what’s it got to do with me?’

  ‘I’m sorry. Children are destined to share their parents’ perils.’

  ‘I see. Two men went missing and there’s only one of you. Don’t worry, I too can look after myself.’

  The household was a flurry of leave-taking. Among the many who hugged and kissed was little Gudred. He must have escaped his mother’s watchful eye and joined Cerdic’s family to wish him success and a safe return.

  ‘I want you to have this,’ he said and handed Cerdic a silver pendant. ‘It shows that I’m the son of a King. I want you to have it. It might keep you safe.’ Cerdic looked round. But Queen Gunnhild was behind the partition taking leave of King Eirik. So Cerdic lifted little Gudred up and hugged him.

  ‘I thank you heartily for your kindness, Prince. But I can’t accept your gift. It will be missed from your neck-chain.’

  ‘I’ll say I lost it. Please wear it to keep you safe.’ Cerdic had tears in his eyes as Aluinn helped him attach the pendant next to the cross around his neck.’ When the two hirds rode off, Gudred stood with his mother and his siblings and waved.

  Gunnhild, Ragnhild and the three youngest of the Eiriksons stayed for another two weeks. I thought that with Eirik and his hird gone it would be safe to allow Varg to return to Becklund. He was needed in the stables and I gave him strict orders to stay there and avoid the hall. I thought that enough to keep him safe but I hadn’t reckoned with Gunnhild.

  ‘That man,’ she hissed. ‘The one over by the stables. I know who he is. He was one of those who slew my step-son and raised a shame-pole against me. Why have you hidden him from me?’

  ‘My uncle accepted weregeld for his son’s life.’

  ‘I have accepted nothing.’

  ‘But the boy’s father has. There was an honourable settlement.’

  ‘There’s no honour without revenge! Honour, how dare you take that word in your mouth about that nithing. He raised a neidstange, carved with a curse and the horse’s head, jaw propped open with a tick grinning most horribly at me and my husband. He cursed us and humiliated us. I shall have his blood.’

  ‘But Varg didn’t raise the shame pole. He was there, that’s true but he was a mere witness. Now he is my sworn man he has cleared his debt to your husband…’

  ‘You, you would deny me!’ Her eyes were black as the night and seemed to grow until large enough to swallow me. I could no longer control my trembling but managed a hoarse whisper.

  ‘It is not I who would deny you retribution but your husband who has accepted gold in return for…’

  ‘But I, I was threatened and humiliated! I shall have my revenge. Nobody denies me my right. Do you hear? Nobody! You stand in my way at your peril.’ I don’t think she raised her voice but her words echoed in my head until I felt faint.

  I sat down to our evening meal dreading the moment Gunnhild would turn up. But she joined me in the high seat and greeted me in her usual manner, haughty but not unfriendly. She made normal conversation about the food, her servant woman who was unwell and about her children. I was confused to the point of insanity. How could she pretend as if nothing had happened when I was still reeling from the impact of our quarrel?

  The same thing happened the following evening and the one after that. I began to think she’d realised that she had no recourse but couldn’t lower herself to admit being in the wrong. It seemed logical, a queen, even when she knows herself to be wrong, never apologises. After a few days I began to relax but I still told Varg to keep away.

  Harald was conscientious rather than enthusiastic about his sword play. With Kveldulf gone there was nobody to challenge him. Ylva and Unn included him when they trained my fostrings but their way of fighting was how I had taught them, light, fast, relying on speed and agility rather than strength. That’s not what Harald needed. Gunnhild suggested that one of her sons, who was the same age as Harald, should help him practise sword skills. I thought the offer a sign that she wanted better relations between us so, much as I disliked having anything more than necessary to do with her children, I agreed. The look in the boy’s eyes when he was told made me regret my decision.

  I needn’t have worried. Harald was never there to join in. He excused himself to tend the horses and then, with his friends Inga and Ole, rode out on the fells for hours on end. I noticed that Gudrun too was absent most of the day.

  ‘Mor,’ she told me one evening as I put her to bed, ‘Harald and Ole and Inga play with me now I’m a big girl. They help me with my foal and they take me riding and I can watch them race but I can’t race yet. And when Inga has to spin and Ole is in the field Harald takes me fishing’ She chatted about her adored elder brother and his friends. Apart from that none of them carried out the duties as expected of them, Harald and his friends did nothing wrong but this sudden attention to a younger sister that had, up until now been regarded as a nuisance, was suspicious. Maybe it had something to do with her status as owner of a prize foal.

  ‘No Mor,’ said Harald, ‘we just like to have her and the Cub and …’

  ‘The Cub?’ He grinned.

  ‘Yes, Varg Njalson. It gets confusing with two Vargs and since old Varg doesn’t like being called old, we call the young one the Cub because Varg means wolf and…’

  ‘Yes, I know. Who else joins you?’

&
nbsp; ‘Just us.’

  ‘I know you and Ole and Inga sneak off together, you always have done, but why are you taking the younger ones now? And can I have the truth this time, please?’ Again that embarrassed grin, so another lie on its way. I stopped him before it reached his lips. He sighed:

  ‘We weren’t to tell.’ His eyes wandered to somewhere behind my shoulder.

  ‘Mistress, a word, please.’ Kirsten led the way outside. As we passed Gunnhild on her seat by the hearth Kirsten said in a loud voice: ‘I think we could get some more from the farm at Buttermere.’ Inside the store house she closed the door and whispered:

  ‘Please don’t think I’m interfering Sigrid Kveldulfsdaughter, but I told Harald to keep out of the way and take Gudrun and my little Varg with him. I’m afraid I gave permission for the others to go as well. It would look strange otherwise.’ A cold vice closed round my stomach.

  ‘You think they’re in danger from Gunnhild?’

  ‘Yes, I don’t know what she plans but I don’t like what I sense when I touch her mind.’

  ‘Kirsten, this is dangerous. She’s very powerful.’

  ‘Yes, I know. I tried to keep out of her way as much as possible, as you told me to, but she sought me out with her eyes and…’ She broke off suddenly and opened the door. I followed her gaze. A falcon alighted and flew off. Nothing unusual in that but Kirsten turned pale. ‘Mistress, we must send your children and my son away. Thorstein will be safe with his wet-nurse but the others must go.’

  I told Varg to row Harald, Gudrun and little Varg across Crummockwater to our relatives at Rannerdale the next day. I spent a sleepless night worrying and in the morning I was tense and trembling as if in a fever. We crept out of the house at daybreak. The door squeaked on its hinges. Someone’s snore changed to a cough but settled back. Otherwise I didn’t notice anyone stir. Once outside I relaxed a little. It was going to be a fine morning. The rising sun played on the waves. A shoal of small sticklebacks darted like a shadow in the shallows. Small birds greeted the morning with their chorus and a falcon hovered above us as the children settled in the small rowing boat. I looked across to the mass of Grasmoor.