by Ceri Bladen
Hilde held the infant to Astrid’s breast and smiled when he latched on, suckling hungrily. “See, m’lady, he is hungry.” When she looked at Astrid, she was shocked to see the look of revulsion in her eyes for the baby.
“It’s like a parasite. I hate it.”
Hilde bent forward, concerned for the defenceless barn. “Hush, m’lady, Ubba is coming. It won’t do you or the barn any good if you talk like that.” With Ubba in mourning for Rosfrith and Astrid’s rejection of the child, she wouldn’t be surprised if the child was left to die in the harsh elements.
“Please, you have had a long, hard labour. Once you have rested, you will feel better.” She ignored the look Astrid gave her and glanced over towards Ubba, who was walking away from Gunnar and the other witnesses. “Besides, Ubba will be pleased you have given him a lad, and with no wife…” she left the rest of the sentence, disgusted at herself for using Rosfrith’s name to protect the small baby.
Astrid looked over at Ubba. She would have to pretend to love this squawking, red babe if she had any chance of getting back into Ubba’s heart.
“Ubba,” she said, pleased when he smiled at her. “Come and watch him feed.” As Ubba gazed in awe, stroking the babe’s head, she ignored the suckling pain. She would rip him off if she had any choice. But, she didn’t.
“You’ve done well, Astrid,” he said. “Very well.”
Nine days later, Ubba looked around at the people gathered in the longhouse. They were all there to take part in vatni ausinn - to witness him giving his son his name. It was a proud moment for him, and although he would have liked the mother to be Rosfrith, to have a son was a blessing in itself.
He reached out to take his son out of Astrid’s arms. He barely looked at her. It was unfair of him to treat her so, but he couldn’t help it. His heart was aching for Rosfrith. Perhaps in time, he would treat her more like the mother of his babe, but for now, he couldn’t. Pushing his melancholy thoughts to the back of his mind, he smiled at his tiny son as he balanced him on his knee, his left hand supporting his head, as Hilde had shown him.
“Hi there, little one.” He smiled at the tiny babe before bending to put some water in his other hand. He glanced at the witnesses standing around. “I sprinkle this child with water and give him the name Ragnar after his afi, his grandfather.” Ubba made the sign of Thór’s hammer on the baby’s forehead. “He will be known as Ragnar Ubbasson.”
Astrid felt everyone’s gaze turn towards her. She stepped forward. It was her turn.
“I have borne you this barn, hale, and whole.
Will you know him as your own, born of your clan?
Or shall he be cast clanless out of the garth, to live or die with troll and warg?”
She watched uninterested, as Ubba made a show of inspecting the baby before raising it high. She had no doubt he would accept it, she’d seen the love in his eyes for it. Love that should be hers.
With the baby high in the air, Ubba proudly announced,
“All worthy in might ween I the barn,
come he now to clan of my blood. High ones and holy hear now my words,
this name I give good luck my child!”
Everyone cheered before making their way to the refreshments.
#
Ubba looked up from his board game and noticed Astrid enter the hall from his bed-closet. He hadn’t the heart to kick her out of there while she was nursing. Not that he cared much for his chamber, it didn’t mean the same since Rosfrith had been taken away. His blue eyes narrowed when Hilde followed her, holding his son. Astrid didn’t seem to be taking to the role of doting mother very well. He was glad he trusted Hilde to look after his son. He stood.
“We’ll finish our game of Hnefatafl later, Asmund.” He strode over to take Ragnar from Hilde’s arms, ignoring its mother.
Astrid bristled at Ubba’s obvious slight. She mentally kicked herself from not remembering to carry the squawking thing. She would in future, otherwise she would never get him back, despite her scheming.
“Hello, my strong son,” said Ubba, smiling at the little screwed up face. He felt joy in his heart.
“Góðan morgun, sire,” Astrid said, determined to have him acknowledge her.
“Góðan morgun, Astrid.” Ubba turned and gave her a brief smile before turning back to his son. She’d been on at him to resume their previous relationship. He didn’t want to go there again - even if she was the mother of his precious son. “How did Ragnar sleep last night?”
“He didn’t.” Her face puckered. “All he wants to do is feed.”
“Ah, good. That means he will be a strong lad.” Ubba gently rubbed his large finger over its cheek, marvelling how perfect the little babe was. “Ek ann ther , my son”
I love you!
Astrid tried not to scowl, but she was seething on the inside. He hasn’t said that to me for a long time, she thought. Knowing her sour mood would not help their situation, she forced a smile onto her face.
“Do you have time to break your fast with me, sire?” She placed her hand on his arm and squeezed. “Hilde was just on her way out to give Ragnar some fresh air.” She turned and nodded at Hilde, ignoring the puzzled expression on her face. “It will give us time to discuss…” she quickly tried to think of something that would interest him enough to spend time with her. She had to resist the urge to sigh when she realised the only thing he wanted to talk to her about was Ragnar. “…our son.”
Ubba grunted. He had too much to do, but he’d spent no real time with Astrid since Ragnar’s birth. He could spare some time. “Fine.” He carefully handed the babe over to Hilde. “Keep him warm. The air is brisk.”
Hilde smiled as she nodded at his request. “Ay, Sire.”
Ubba watched her walk away before turning to Astrid. “Shall we?” He swept his arm out towards the food.
Chapter 10
January 873 -Ranaricii
Astrid clenched her hands to hide her shaking, annoyed that Ubba was talking to a thrall in a darkened corner of the longhouse. A good-looking one at that. Mayhap that was why he wasn’t giving her any attention even though Ragnar was now well over two moons old? Mayhap that is why he’d moved her out of his bed-closet, back to her own, because he was bedding that woman? She tried to move closer to overhear their conversation, but frustratingly, she couldn’t hear anything. She stared at his large back. Didn’t he realise they were destined to be together? Didn’t he realise he loved her?
When he walked away to talk to Asmund, unaware she was even there, she knew simply wanting him from afar wasn’t enough anymore. She had to be back in his life, to make sure he knew his feelings were mutual. It was crucial that she got back into his bed, so he could remember why he loved her in the first place. A smile fluttered on her lips - although she continued to give the young female thrall a scowl. Now it was time to put her side of the plan into action.
Ubba was bone weary from working hard since the cockeral had crowed early this morning. There was so much to do when the snow covered the floor. Unfortunately, since he’d let his guard down while mourning Rosfrith, many of the village farmers had abused his trust. Well, not again. He had just explained to one of his thrall’s wives that he did not expect her husband to miss another working day due to ale, otherwise, he would have to renew their tenancy. He didn’t like doing it, but he wouldn’t let anyone take advantage of him. He turned towards the fire, and stopped. He was so tired, he didn’t think he could even eat his meal tonight, so he turned on his heels and headed for his bed-closet. When he pushed the door open, a frown marred is forehead. Astrid was sitting on his bed.
His eyes narrowed. “Where’s young Ragnar?”
Astrid shrugged. “He is with Hilde for a while. He’s safe.”
Ubba grunted. “Why are you in my private chamber?”
“I’ve been thinking.”
“About what?” He rubbed his neck, attempting to work out the knots there.
“Us.” She smiled, walking toward
s him.
He put his palms up and shook his head in disbelief. His gaze focused on her face. “I’ve told you many times, there is no ‘us’. We finished long ago.”
“But now we have Ragnar.” She paused. “And Rosfrith has gone.” She became quiet when his gaze froze.
“Don’t mention her.” His voice hardened. “Don’t ever mention her again. I will not talk to you about Rosfrith. My wife.”
Astrid looked at the floor, trying to appear subservient. It was against her nature, but her forward manner only enraged him. “I’m sorry, Ubba. I never meant to offend you.”
Silence hung heavy between them. Ubba broke it. “I’m leaving.”
As he moved to go, Astrid crossed the distance separating them. She clung to him and tried to pull him back. “Pray tell me, what do you find so wrong with me?”
Ubba stopped and sighed heavily.
“Please tell me. I’ll change, I’ll change anything you don’t like…” she knew she was rambling but couldn’t stop. She leaned forward and kissed the muscle on his arm. “I still love you. I always will.”
Ubba looked down onto the crown of her head and felt truly conflicted. She did arouse his natural desires, but he still loved Rosfrith.
“Give me time, Astrid,” he muttered before he opened the door and left her standing alone.
#
Ubba placed some sour bread into his mouth but didn’t taste it. His mind was troubled since Astrid had confronted him in his bedchamber, a couple of weeks ago, about resuming their relationship. He pushed his bowl away, his appetite lost. From the time he’d heard about Rosfrith’s death, he had felt dead inside. Only his son could bring joy to his heart. He rubbed his hand over his chest, attempting to dislodge the tightness there.
His jaw tensed. Can I really spend the rest of my life balancing between the real world and Valhalla? Can I really carry on living a half-life, not truly enjoying anything? While he’d been with Rosfrith, the Seer had seen a vision of more children - he’d thought they were to be with his wife. His shoulders slumped. Mayhap it was his fate to be with Astrid?
He glanced at her. Could he separate his physical needs from his emotions? Could he get her pregnant without loving her? Guilt continued to play on his mind, until he noticed she’d caught him staring at her. A blush crept up her neck and she looked away, giving him a glance from beneath her lashes. His body responded to her flirting. Who was he trying to kid? He would never be able to live the life of a monk.
Slowly, he moved towards the fire, and spread his hands in front of it. A frown crossed his forehead as he stared into it. What were his intentions? Rosfrith hadn’t been gone long, but she wasn’t coming back, and as chieftain of Ranaricii, he needed more than one heir to take over. As numb as his heart felt inside, he had a duty to his people. A gentle touch on his arm pulled him out of his thoughts. He glanced to the side to see Astrid regarding him with a somewhat wary expression.
“I’m sorry about our discussion in your closet,” she whispered, leaning towards him. “I don’t want us not to talk.” She noticed his gaze flick towards the gap in her tunic, which she’d deliberately opened. She resisted the urge to smile, stilling instead to give him time to take in the sight of her pale flesh. When he glanced back at her face, desire swam deep in his blue eyes. She wasn’t naïve - it didn’t matter it was only her womanly body which weaved its magic on him - it was enough to start with. She flicked her gaze towards the rear of the longhouse. “Would you like to…” she left the rest of the sentence unsaid.
Ubba made a quiet sound and nodded.
Astrid tapped his arm and smiled. “All right, I’ll meet you there when the sun goes down.” She stood and walked away, not wanting to push him too much – he wasn’t a man who liked to think he could be coerced.
Chapter 11
March 873 – Dunwich Fortress
“Ay?” Bryan shouted through the closed door.
“I have a message for you, Lord.”
Bryan’s eyebrows rose when he heard the muffled voice from the other side of the shut door. He wasn’t expecting to hear from the boy so early in the morning. It would mean that Rosfrith was up and about. “Enter.”
“M’lady has another message for Ranaricii.”
“Pray, tell me.” Once the lad relayed the message Rosfrith had given him, Bryan flicked him a coin. “Remember, stay quiet.” His eyes narrowed. “Or I will expect all my coins repaid.”
“Ay, m’lord. I’s said nought to anyone.”
Bryan nodded. He was pleased that another of Rosfrith’s missives had been intercepted.
“You may go.” He waved a hand in dismissal.
When the boy didn’t move, Bryan glanced at him and saw the gleam in his eyes when he shoved the coin into his pouch. Bryan rubbed his smooth chin. The lad had made a fair bit from him lately, but he couldn’t do much about it. So far, the boy had been true to his word and kept quiet about their schemes.
He waited until the door shut and carried on dressing, ready to break his fast with his sister. While he preened over his appearance, he thought about his plans. He’d noticed Rosfrith becoming distressed about not receiving word from Ranaricii. She didn’t know how many of the damned messages he’d had to intercept, but then, she was a dimwit and easy to fool. She’d become even more withdrawn since she’d told Ubba about her pregnancy and he hadn’t replied. He smirked. Ubba hadn’t got that juicy bit of information - he had, however, received a missive telling him about his wife’s death. Bryan tossed his head back. Mayhap the stress would make her lose her babe, or even her life?
His finger tapped his lips. Possibly it was time to lend her some more bad luck. Tell her that her darling husband had stopped his communications because he was in the arms of another?
Bryan had received word about it the other day - their plans couldn’t be going any better. He wanted Ubba to pay emotionally, and perhaps financially, for the Vikings destroying his life – and the best way was through Rosfrith. The barbarian was a fool for making it so easy. Fancy falling in love with dim-witted Rosfrith. His eyebrows gathered together when his thoughts turned serious. What had that boatswain said Ubba’s lover’s name was? It was hard to remember, being a heathen name. He tried to recall it because, for maximum hurt to his sister, it was important that he remember. Ah, that’s right. Astrid.
Rosfrith turned towards the door when she heard it open. She had been watching to see the lad she gave her message to run out of the fortress. On seeing her brother, she said nothing, turning back to the opening that overlooked the courtyard.
“What’s wrong, sister? You look pensive, this morning,” asked Bryan.
She glanced over her shoulder and briefly wondered whether to tell him her concerns about the lack of communication with her husband. She sighed before answering, knowing how he felt about Ubba. It would be foolish to wind him up when he was being kind to her.
“’Tis nothing, brother.” She rubbed her growing belly. “I’m tired, that’s all.”
He flicked a quick glance at her stomach. It disgusted him. He would be more than happy if his sister and that lump would die while giving birth. He wouldn’t have to pretend anymore. But, he would have to wait to see what his partner said. Their plans had changed when she became pregnant with Ubba’s child. His partner said the babe could be valuable. He walked to a chair and sat.
“I am hoping to return to Ranaricii for the birth of my child.”
Bryan sat up. “What about father?”
Rosfrith sighed and looked away from her brother’s piercing gaze. She had to say something; it had been playing on her mind for weeks.
“He doesn’t know I’m here, Bryan. Anyone can nurse him.” She looked down onto her belly. “But, I need to go home for my child.”
Panicked, Bryan stood quickly, knocking his chair onto the floor. “But, Dunwich is your home.”
Rosfrith felt the tears prick her eyes, but she forced them away. “Not anymore, Bryan. This is your home. I want n
othing from it.” She paused for him to look at her. “Or you. My home is with Ubba now. He is my husband.”
Bryan snorted but changed tactics. He needed her to stay here. It was part of the plan. Ubba couldn’t find out she was alive, as he definitely wouldn’t gain anything. “Of course, you would like to go home, my dear sister. Wait a little longer and see if Papa improves. Then I will arrange for you to return before your” - he wanted to add, “your bastard”-“much-loved baby will arrive.”
Rosfrith smiled at her brother, relief pouring through her. “Thank you, brother. That news settles me because Ubba must be at the birth to claim the baby as his.”
Bryan tried hard for the disgust he felt not to reflect in his voice. “At the birth? You mean the males are present?”
Rosfrith gave a little laugh. “Ay, brother. It is the custom and law. The room is full of witnesses.”
He said nothing and turned from her, shocked she would allow Ubba, let alone a roomful people, see her in a compromising position. She was truly a heathen - there was no hope for her. Perhaps it would be best if she died? He would only have use for the child. If it survived. “I think you need more help because you are tired.”
Rosfrith gave a weak smile.
His eyes narrowed. He had a maid in mind, he’d already informed her of her role. She was loyal to him for numerous reasons. “I’ll send you Blyth.”
“But I already have Cate.” She’d never had anyone do anything for her since a child, so she felt uncomfortable having two maids to tend her.
“No arguments. I insist.”
Bryan sat on the hard bench in a darkened corner of the local public house. He nodded for an ale, ignoring the hooded man sitting next to him. To anyone frequenting the inn, they were strangers. It was better that way. Once the serving wench had sloshed his ale mug down, he whispered, “What shall I do? Rosfrith wants to go back to Ranaricii.”