by Kim Wilkins
His sudden coldness made her stomach tie in knots.
“Fine,” she whispered angrily. “Sleep with the horse.”
Fifteen
Every day for a week, Vidar disappeared in the morning and only returned when dusk deepened around the trees and brought the salt-laden winds off the sea. Sometimes he came home damp, and Aud wondered if he were returning to Sjáfjord to gaze on Midgard. At home in the evenings, he was lost deep in his thoughts. Any attempts that Aud made to encourage intimacy between them were carefully blocked by Vidar. Aud, sick at heart, felt him slip further and further from her confidence, and was helpless to change the situation.
One bright morning, about an hour after Vidar had left, Aud was collecting firewood from the pile by the stables when she heard hoofbeats approaching from the woods. She looked around to see Loki burst from the trees on Heror. He was dressed all in black, his hair loose and flowing, a silver circlet around his forehead and an ornate box brooch fastening his cloak. With her arms full of firewood, she moved toward the house to greet him.
“Good morning,” she said, curious.
He jumped off Heror and loosened the bridle, smiling at her over his shoulder. “Greetings, Aud. You look well.”
“Thank you.”
“Is Vidar about? I need to talk to him.”
“No, he’s out.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
Loki narrowed his eyes. “You don’t know?”
Aud shook her head. “He didn’t say. I didn’t ask.”
“Ah, disappointing. I rather felt like some company today.” Loki surveyed the area around them. “Perhaps I’ll go to look for him.”
Aud grew concerned. What if Vidar stood in Sjáfjord, unsuspecting? If Loki found him and learned of his secret . . . what then? Did she really care if others learned of Vidar’s love for this Midgard woman, especially if their disapproval stopped him seeing her?
“Which direction did he go, Aud?” Loki was asking.
She gathered herself and shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’m sorry.” Vidar had trusted her not to tell and she intended to be worthy of that trust.
Loki fixed his gaze to the northwest, toward the seeing-water. “Perhaps I’ll head over the slope to—”
“If you want company, I’ll gladly provide it,” she said quickly, dropping the wood and dusting her hands.
“I’ve no intention of sitting by the fire on such a beautiful day,” he said.
“Then let us walk, in the woods.”
“Walk? Wouldn’t you like to ride with me?”
“I couldn’t keep up.”
“No,” he said, grasping her elbow gently. “With me. On Heror.” He whistled loudly and Heror turned and walked toward them.
A shiver of fear frosted her skin. She was uncomfortable on horseback—preferred her feet on the ground—let alone a fast, powerful beast like Heror with Loki at the reins. “I’m not sure . . .”
“Didn’t you say you’d keep me company? Come.”
“Must we go very fast?”
Loki laughed his wild laugh. “Of course we must!” With swift grace, he mounted Heror, then put his hand down for her. “Come, Aud. Don’t be frightened. You may trust me.”
Trust Loki? Aud almost laughed. She wondered if Vidar would appreciate her actions when she told him this evening. “Very well,” she said. She tied her skirts around her hips and, reaching up, allowed Loki to help her onto Heror’s back.
“Hold on tight,” Loki said, slapping her thigh playfully. Aud needed no prompting. She locked her arms about his waist, her hands tight over his hollow stomach. No warmth emanated from his body. His black hair caught against her lips and cheek. She screwed her eyes tight.
Heror needed little encouragement from Loki. Almost as soon as they were settled, he sped off like lightning. Aud cracked open one eye to see where they were going, but hurriedly closed it when the branches of the wood loomed close enough to terrify her and the shadows between the trees flew past like wild ghosts. She tightened her grip on Loki’s ribs, wishing they were not so narrow and cool. From time to time, she could feel his body shake with mad laughter. Their journey, while it probably only lasted twenty minutes, seemed interminable as she willed him and willed him to slow down. Finally, she felt Loki pull on Heror’s reins. The horse slowed to a walk, and she ventured to open her eyes.
They had left the woods and were entering a sunlit field of waving grass, daisies and orange hawkweed. Heror stopped, they dismounted and Loki sent the horse off to cool down. Aud’s legs were shaking too much to stand so she sank into the grass, feeling the warm sunshine fill her hair.
Loki sat next to her and began idly to pick daisies. “Did you enjoy our ride, Aud?”
“No,” she answered, taking a deep breath and stilling her trembling hands.
“I’ll try harder on the way home,” he said, reaching over to twine a daisy in her hair. “Why did you want to come with me, Aud? I suspect you wanted to keep me from finding Vidar.”
“I’ve been lonely and I have been trapped in the house,” she said, “and fresh air, sunshine and company are appealing to me.”
“Why have you been lonely?” His hand came to rest on her knee.
“Vidar has spent a lot of time away from home,” she said dismissively.
“He has been to Midgard again?”
“No. He goes out in the morning, and returns in the evening with little to say to me.” She realized her voice sounded bitter.
“What do you think he does all day?”
Aud regretted opening this line of conversation. As always, Loki was sifting her words for secrets. “I really don’t know,” she said plainly. “I sometimes wonder if he simply wants to be away from me.”
“Why would he want that?”
“Because he knows I love him, and he’d sooner avoid me than reject me.” Aud sounded so pitiful that she had to laugh at herself.
Loki reached up to wind another daisy into her hair; she plucked a flower from the ground and did the same to him. For a few minutes, as they decorated each other with flowers, she felt like a child. Loki and the sunshine and the bright field seemed so simple.
“You know, Aud,” he said, “Vidar isn’t worthy of such devotion from you.”
“He is,” she said. “I know he shares no intimacies with me, and I know he feels no special love for me, but he is kind and patient and cares for my comfort.” She dropped her hands in her lap. Speaking of Vidar’s indifference to her made it more real, and she experienced it as an ache of emptiness all across her body. “He is a good man,” she said softly.
Loki tilted his head to the side and touched her cheek with his cool fingers. “You are a good woman,” he said. “You are very beautiful to me, Aud. Could you not offer your affections to someone who will be more tender with them?”
Aud brushed his hand from her face. “I am your servant,” she said bitterly.
“No. Not today. Save that for tomorrow. Today we are Vanir and Aesir, together in a sunny field. History says we should kiss each other or kill each other.” Loki smiled and leaned forward, gently grasping her chin. “Hold still now. I won’t kill you.”
His lips pressed against hers, cool and smooth. For a moment she held her breath, tensed against him, but his arms encircled her waist and pulled her close, and it had been so long—so long—since anyone had held her. She sighed against his mouth, his kiss deepened and he lowered her to the grass. His hands tangled in her hair, his lips tickled her ears and throat and returned again and again to her mouth.
Aud opened her eyes and saw the bright sun watching them. She wondered where Vidar was, what he was doing. Loki’s hand closed over her breast.
“Stop,” she said.
Loki lifted himself off her, his eyebrows drawn together. “Stop?”
“Please,” she said. “I don’t want to. I’m sorry.”
His eyes were furious. “A woman in service should be careful
not to start what she doesn’t intend to finish.”
“I’m sorry. Please don’t force me.”
This seemed to anger him more. He sat up and brushed his hair over his shoulder. A daisy fell to the ground. “Force you? Aud, I would never force anyone. Besides, you’d tell Vidar and he’s bigger than I and he’s a brute.”
“He’s not a brute.”
Loki sniffed dismissively. “You are very, very young.” He stood and held out a hand to help her to her feet. “I’ll take you home, and tomorrow I’ll have invented a task more disgusting than anything you ever had to deal with at Valaskjálf.”
Aud felt empty and bereft, guilty and angry, all at once. He took her home at a much more civilized pace and she was glad to see the house at Gammaldal appear as they broke from the woods. A second later she spotted Vidar, returning from the northwest, clearly damp. And Loki had seen him too.
“Isn’t that your master?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Yes.” What was he doing home so early?
“He’s wet. Any idea why?”
“No.”
“Then you’re stupid. Anyone can see he’s come from Sjáfjord. He’s been using seeing magic.” Loki spurred his horse forward. “Ho, cousin!”
Aud saw Vidar look up, anxiety troubling his brow. He waited wordlessly as they approached, then helped Aud down from Heror’s back.
“You’re damp, Vidar,” Loki said.
“I’ve been swimming. It’s a hot morning.”
“That it is,” Loki said, his face revealing his skepticism.
“Why are you here?” Vidar asked.
“I thought to see you, but your bondmaid spirited me away. But now we’ve returned and I need to ask if you took anything from Heimdall’s chamber the night we went to steal a thread from his cloak.”
Vidar looked puzzled. “No. Just the thread.”
Aud pulled close to Vidar. “You gave me a pair of brooches, Loki,” she said.
“I’ll need them back,” Loki said to her. “Fetch them for me.”
“Why?” Aud asked.
“I don’t need to explain myself to you. Just fetch them,” Loki said.
Vidar nodded, smiling at her kindly. “Go on, Aud.”
Aud raced inside and found the brooches in a carved wooden box amongst other of her trinkets. She dreaded what Loki might say about her once alone with Vidar. Would he brag about their kiss? From the door of the house, she could see Loki laughing as he told Vidar a story. Vidar didn’t share in his amusement. He quieted as she approached.
“Here,” she said, offering Loki the brooches.
Loki snatched them from her fingers and turned his horse around. “I will see you tomorrow, Aud. Arrive before dawn, I’ll have a lot of work for you. Good-bye, Vidar.”
“Good-bye, cousin,” Vidar said.
Loki sped off. Aud ventured to ask Vidar, “Did he say anything about me?”
“You? No.”
She felt relieved.
“But I have trouble,” he continued. “When Loki and I went to steal a thread from Heimdall’s cloak, Loki stole some treasures from his chamber.”
“And?”
“And Heimdall noticed them missing, took Valaskjálf apart looking for them, then finally deduced what had happened. Loki must return them.”
“That isn’t trouble for you, though, is it?”
They turned and headed back to the house. “Who knows what Loki will tell Heimdall?” Vidar said. “What if he reveals that I was there? Why we came to Valaskjálf in the first place?”
Aud offered him a smile. “You trusted him when you let him take you there. I suppose you must continue to trust him.”
Vidar gave her a sidelong glance. “You trust him,” he said firmly. “I can see that.”
Aud was puzzled. “How do you see that?”
He kept his eyes in front of him now, avoiding her face. “You have flowers in your hair; he has flowers in his hair.”
She stopped, reaching for her hair and brushing out the daisies. He kept walking.
“No, Vidar, it’s not as it seems. We aren’t close, I don’t trust Loki,” she called after him, running to catch up. “But he draws me into his confidence sometimes and I—”
Vidar paused, and turned to face her. His eyes were very intense, dark. She couldn’t remember him ever looking at her with such naked feeling, and it both thrilled her and frightened her. “I warn you, it will be at your peril if you tell him about Victoria.”
Her temper flared. “You insult me with your mistrust,” she said shortly.
A second passed, two, three. The friction had heated the space between them.
“Leave me be, Aud,” he said curtly. “I’m going to change into some dry clothes.”
A breeze off the sea swirled past, lifting her hair and sending a few last petals diving to the ground. Aud watched Vidar go, but didn’t follow. So she had a name, this Midgard woman. Victoria. She said the name out loud. It was bitter on her tongue.
Vidar had spent too much time wandering in the last few weeks. Wandering about in his own mind, imagining and reimagining himself with Victoria, then chastising himself for putting her in danger; wandering about in the fields and on the water’s edge, spending so long in the seeing-water gazing at her that his hands wrinkled and his skin froze; wandering about the farm at Gammaldal, repairing things that didn’t need repairing, tending to needs that the chickens didn’t have, carving presents for Victoria that he didn’t know he would ever offer her.
Then the morning’s exchange with Aud, when he had accidentally released Victoria’s name, had brought him out of his reverie and back into the world. Aud knew about Victoria, Aud spent long hours with Loki, and Loki was curious about Vidar’s trip to Midgard. If somehow the secret slipped from one tongue to the next, and made its way into the ear of Odin, then matters would be out of his hands.
He regretted speaking harshly to Aud. He regretted every occasion when a spark of temper overrode his good sense, but love and fear, the two mightiest of passions, had driven him to it.
Though in the back of his mind another voice suggested that perhaps an emotion less grand had also played a part. Seeing Aud and Loki return together, both flushed and decorated with flowers, had caused a twinge of jealousy. Over the last five years, he had discouraged Aud’s fantasies that they were lover and beloved, yet he had been blind to a different relationship developing between them: owner and possession. Aud was his. Vidar knew she was in love with him; he knew he didn’t love her. But she was his. He was ashamed of such possessiveness; it was petty, cruel, arrogant, everything he despised about the Aesir. The only way Vidar knew he could make peace with his feelings was to apologize to Aud.
Vidar returned to the house at dusk. The fire was not stoked and Aud was not waiting. He threw some wood on the fire and searched the other rooms. They were empty. He opened the back door and looked out. Right at the bottom of the barley field he saw her dark hair. He made his way down the corridors of green shoots. She turned.
“Aud, are you hiding from me?”
“No. I was . . . thinking.”
“May I sit by you?”
“You may do as you please. I’m your servant.”
“May I sit by you as your friend, Aud?”
“You didn’t speak to me as a friend this morning.”
“I know,” he said gently, crouching on the cool grass next to her. “I want to apologize. Let me sit by you. I do trust you, Aud. I have to explain myself to you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I would like to explain myself. I would like to make peace with you because I leave soon to visit my mother.” He needed good counsel and, although the way was treacherous, he’d decided to make a journey to Jotunheim.
She shifted and patted the ground beside her. He settled in the offered space, his legs stretched out in front of him. The sea beat its quiet rhythm, black shadow-birds arrowed across the dull pink sky.
“Go on,” she
said.
“I can’t tell you everything. Not because I don’t trust you, just because it’s not in my nature to tell everything.”
“I understand.”
“I am in love. You’re clever. You’ve deduced this much.”
“Yes.”
“Her name is Victoria, she lives in Midgard, she doesn’t know what I am. She wouldn’t believe me if I told her.”
“Why her, Vidar?” she said, her brows drawing down so that she looked like a petulant child. “Why a Midgard woman?”
“She’s special.”
“How can you know this? How can you know somebody from seeing her reflection in a pond? Is she so beautiful?”
Vidar chose his words carefully. “I know her, Aud. I’ve known her for a long time.”
“Before I came into your service?”
“Yes, before that. Long before that.”
Disappointment flashed across Aud’s face before she dropped her head and her long hair hid her face from view. “I see.”
“Aud, I know that . . . I know how you feel about me.”
She didn’t reply.
“Under any other circumstances—” he began.
“Don’t, Vidar.” She gave him a pained smile. “Leave me a little dignity.”
“I would preserve your dignity at all costs, Aud,” he said softly. “That’s why you’re here at Gammaldal and not servicing those oafs at Valaskjálf.” He nearly warned her about Loki, how Loki had bragged that Aud would eventually succumb to him, but decided against the warning in case they were already lovers.
“You’ve been so good to me,” she said. “I owe you so much. That’s why I couldn’t bear that you thought, even for a moment, that I wasn’t a safe keep for your secret.”
“I’m truly sorry.” He slumped forward. “So much is at stake.”
“Is that so?”
Vidar nodded. “You know my family, Aud. You know Odin. Is there anything he wouldn’t do were he angry?”
“But why would he be angry?” she asked hesitantly. “Others cross to Midgard, take lovers, have their fun and return.”
Vidar said nothing, letting his silence speak for him.
“Oh,” she said. “They return.”