Obsidian

by Suzie Wilde

  He led the way to the medicine garden and pointed to wolfsbane, as his mother had told him. Bera saw the neighbouring remedy and picked a bunch, wrapped it in a rhubarb leaf and then pushed it deep into her inner apron.

  Before they left, Faelan set his farmhands to work the field nearest the forge.

  ‘That will give them time to plant some iron for your smith,’ he told Bera.

  She hoped it would make it right but was distracted enough to obediently get up behind Faelan. The other horse was on a long lead beside them. Then the reality of leaving hit her. Valdis, her baby!

  ‘I could have her in a sling on my horse, couldn’t I?’

  ‘You’ll find it hard enough riding for the first time, even on that beauty. This is no journey for a baby. Your friend Sigrid is her wet nurse, isn’t she? She’ll be grand.’

  ‘It’s not the feeding, it’s…’ How to explain that yearning ache to a young man? She didn’t understand it herself.

  And then there was Sigrid. All the way back to the homestead, Bera planned how she might break the news to her. She pictured her heartbroken, saying she had lost a son and two husbands and could not be parted from Bera. Perhaps it was as well to be leaving Valdis with her. It was Fate that had made Bera stop feeding her child. She was determined to be kind to Sigrid, patient and loving. She persuaded Faelan to leave the horses in the ruins, so that she could break the news of her going gently.

  When they arrived at the longhouse Sigrid brandished both babies, announcing for Faelan’s benefit how folk kept saying she was as battle-hardened as a Valkyrie to be able to feed them both at once.

  ‘Good,’ said Bera crisply. ‘Then you won’t mind keeping it up. Faelan and I are setting off again now.’

  She took her baby and held her tight, nuzzling at her neck that smelled of toasting flatbread. Valdis had her black bead tied on her wrist and it hit Bera’s face.

  ‘Not that scrutty boat again!’ Sigrid said. ‘You’re needed here, Bera, taking charge. Where were you last night? Dellingr’s gone all peculiar again.’

  Faelan interrupted. ‘Keeping vigil with my mother, Sigrid.’

  Sigrid sniffed. ‘Oh, well, I’m sorry for your loss.’

  Bera said, ‘Sigrid. We have to go. It’s a long way, to…’

  ‘Smolderby,’ Faelan said.

  ‘Sounds very nice.’ Sigrid rubbed the end of her nose vigorously.

  Bera shared her view, secretly. ‘Never mind that. I’m going as a Valla, because they need me.’

  ‘They? What about me?’ Sigrid bristled. ‘I’m to be left with all the work as usual and not even a lazy thrall to help!’ She hitched the red-faced Borgvald, who looked as indignant as his mother, high on her back. ‘And what about Disa?’

  ‘Don’t call her Disa.’

  ‘I’ll call her what I like when you’re off skedaddling as usual.’

  ‘I want her to come but you can’t take a baby to some smoke-filled place!’

  ‘Don’t go then.’ Sigrid glared. ‘What if I won’t do it?’

  Both babies began to howl. Bera rocked Valdis distractedly.

  ‘I told you about the visions I had during the birth. And then there were real earth rumbles and now look at Hel’s Gateway!’

  ‘It’s a cloud, been there for weeks.’

  ‘But it will get worse.’ Bera pictured the humpback. ‘There’s someone I have to meet so that I can avert the disaster I foresaw.’

  ‘Stop being pompous. You and your predictions.’

  ‘And the dam? See what happens when I get ignored! Who got you all here safely?’

  ‘You didn’t warn me I was about to lose my husband, did you? Or my son.’

  The truth hurt.

  ‘How dare you, Sigrid! You, as well? The other folk have said it all my life, but you? Don’t you think I relive those deaths – and others – every day?’

  ‘You’ve been all smiles lately.’ Sigrid gave Faelan a hard stare. ‘Why’s he going with you, anyway?’

  ‘Faelan has to show me the way.’

  ‘You’re not to go alone then. Not with him.’

  ‘Then who could I go with? Who else can we spare?’

  ‘Your duty is here!’ Sigrid was shouting.

  ‘Does duty always mean what you want, Sigrid? It’s my life and hard enough being a Valla. I do whatever anyone asks of me but you’d deny me one smile from someone who’s not our folk?’

  ‘Always looking after strangers, not your own flesh and blood. Me and Asa, looking after our own and yours, so you can swan off and… look after this person’s mother.’

  ‘You were grateful enough to “this person” when he was feeding us!’

  Faelan spread his hands. ‘It doesn’t matter, Bera. Sigrid, remember I buried my mother this morning.’

  Sigrid jiggled Borgvald enough to shake his head off.

  She turned on Bera. ‘We know what your Valla stuff leads to, don’t we?’

  ‘That’s enough, Sigrid! I am not my mother!’

  Faelan coughed. ‘I’ll wait outside.’ He did not move.

  Sigrid’s face was purple. ‘And now you’re off again.’

  ‘Well, you don’t need me here, Sigrid, do you? When you’re such a wonderful mother who can suckle two babies at once; so carry on!’

  Sigrid put her boy in his rocker. ‘Come to me then, poppet, now your mama’s milk’s gone sour with anger.’

  Valdis screamed louder as Sigrid took her. Bera wanted to punish Sigrid; to be the only one who could soothe her baby and have Faelan see that. Sigrid walked through the longhouse nursing the baby, who wailed and beat at her with tiny fists. She was struggling to keep hold of her.

  ‘This isn’t hunger,’ Bera said to Faelan. ‘My baby knows I’m leaving her. I can’t do it.’

  ‘You have to, if you want her to live.’

  Valdis pounded and screamed, twisted and sobbed; drool laced down her chin. Her whole face was puce with rage. Sigrid’s patience finally ran out and she held her up, red face to red face.

  ‘Stop this, Valdis, or I’ll leave you out for the wolves!’

  ‘I’ll be outside.’ Faelan gave Bera a long look. ‘You can say your goodbyes.’

  Sigrid would not meet her eyes as she passed her Valdis.

  ‘Don’t let’s part like this,’ Bera said. ‘The trouble is, Sigrid, that you’ve watched me grow up and struggle. I’m a Valla now and you have to trust me to do what’s right for us all. I was selfish once but now I’m a mother. Do you think I want to leave her? But go I must.’

  ‘Go then, and don’t come whining back when it all goes wrong!’

  It was like a slap. Bera gently put Valdis in her cot and left before she broke down. On the way out she kicked away a stool. She wanted to scream, run, sob. She wanted her mother.

  Faelan was at the end of the covered way. Dellingr blocked his way, slapping a bundle of knives against his palm.

  ‘I need to get outside,’ said Faelan. ‘The air stinks in here.’

  Dellingr did not move.

  Faelan sighed. ‘I have no fight with you, Dellingr. Let me pass.’

  The smith’s voice was so deep Bera heard the throb of the words. ‘There’s no fresh air out there.’

  The ground rumbled. Bera waited, listening out for more trouble but there was an eerie silence. She went to Faelan’s side.

  ‘There’s no time for any more of this,’ she said. ‘Faelan and I are saying our goodbyes.’

  ‘What goodbyes?’

  ‘We’re going to Smolderby.’

  Dellingr frowned. ‘Smolderby? That’s where I’m going to find iron to work.’

  ‘You said you wouldn’t!’ Bera cried.

  The floor tilted and she grabbed a lintel. Both men fell sideways, Dellingr’s knives clattering on the stone. Faelan took a hard blow to protect her. They waited. Bera was terrified that the stones would fall.

  It was a short one. Dellingr rolled over and up to stand over Faelan. Bera thought he was going to kick him
– but he put out a hand to help her.

  ‘You need to tell folk what you’re doing. A proper meeting, Bera, so we all decide.’

  He was right, in one way.

  ‘I’ll check on Sigrid and the babies first. You gather folk together in the open, just in case.’ She set off, then turned back. ‘And keep away from each other. I thought you and Ottar would be a good influence on Heggi. But my father is dead and you are a stranger, Dellingr. Who will set him an example of what a good man is?’

  Faelan softly pointed a finger at his own chest so that the smith could not see.

  Sigrid was shocked and anxious but she and Bera had no need for words. The babies were together in one crib, asleep like puppies. When Bera started to pack, Sigrid went off to the pantry. Bera missed having her fussing about, pressing more cloaks and furs on her, so she followed.

  Sigrid had her back turned, busying herself with a flatbread pole. Bera rushed across, put her arms round her waist and hugged her from behind. These days she could rest her chin on Sigrid’s shoulder.

  ‘You haven’t done that for a long time.’ Sigrid let her head rest against Bera’s.

  ‘You will always be a mother to me.’

  Sigrid turned so that they were hugging. Her face was wet.

  ‘Pay no attention to this. Baby-tears, that’s all. Having one softens you up.’

  ‘Oh, dearest Sigrid. Forgive me.’

  ‘It’s not about forgiving, it’s about love. And you’ve always had mine, Bera. Always will.’

  Sigrid wiped her nose on her apron and poured them both a beaker of small ale.

  ‘Are you going to call folk together? Tell them why you’re leaving?’

  ‘Dellingr’s calling them now. I don’t want to scare them, though.’

  ‘Folk have a right to be scared. They need the truth.’

  The meeting was important; she hoped Faelan understood that her folk were not like his workers. But Bera needed to break the news to Heggi first. She crossed the yard, following a few women as they headed for the lower field. There was Heggi, with Faelan and Ginna. Some others were ambling towards them. So was Dellingr, coming from the direction of the ruins. Then Bera saw the big claw-hammer in his hand. So much for stopping fighting. There were shouts, finger-prodding and then Dellingr punched Faelan’s face. He fell over. Heggi slapped his thighs and laughed loudly, the image of his father amongst his drunken men.

  Bera began to run.

  ‘Stop it!’ she yelled. ‘Stop, Dellingr!’

  ‘Papa!’ Ginna shouted.

  The smith turned, Faelan seized his ankles and toppled him. Dellingr dropped the hammer. Bera kicked it away and tried to get between them. They rolled on the grass, tussling, punching, gouging. They staggered to their feet, rounded on each other, wrestled and fell again.

  Ginna covered her face with her hands and Bera went over to her and Heggi. Rakki, overexcited, was making dives into the brawl. A ring of shouting settlers formed round the fighters, urging them on. Something in Bera began to enjoy being part of a happy, noisy group. It must stop.

  ‘Look after Ginna,’ Bera said to Heggi, and pushed her way through.

  The two men were back on their feet. Dellingr threw punches but Faelan was nippy and ducked, circling the smith, who roared with frustrated anger. Then Dellingr closed in and they wrestled.

  She was shoved aside by Heggi and Ginna.

  ‘Papa! Stop it, please!’ Ginna cried.

  Her mother arrived. Asa marched straight up to the fighters.

  ‘Dellingr!’ she screamed. ‘And you. Stop it, the pair of you.’

  Dellingr looked up and Faelan could have landed a blow. Instead, he walked away, spat, then dusted himself down. Asa punched her husband’s chest a few times.

  ‘You fool!’

  Ginna rushed to her father and clung to him. Heggi began to follow but Bera held him back.

  Asa was in full stride. ‘You’d better have a good reason for tearing that tunic. It’s the only one you’ve got. Ginna, go and get your father a drink. And leave Hefnir’s son alone.’

  Bera was ashamed that Asa had stopped the fight and hated her for publicly shaming Heggi. ‘Hefnir’s son’ hurt too, as it was surely intended to. It was time to take charge and she stepped into the ring.

  ‘This was the rough justice of Seabost between two free men. It was never to the death, so now there is a line drawn underneath your differences. No blood debt to pay.’

  Dellingr raised his voice. ‘I’m fighting because Bera is leaving us. This black dwarf is taking her away.’

  Faelan moved towards him like a lynx. Bera quickly stood in his way.

  ‘Dellingr is to take charge. It has been a hard start here and will only get worse if I don’t go now. Look at the mountain. I am going with Faelan to save this homestead that you have worked to build and when I return we will talk of new laws of sharing and ownership.’

  ‘Fine talk!’ shouted a man.

  Bera was angry. ‘Don’t you listen? I have to go, to save all your skins!’

  Dellingr caught her arm. ‘You can’t go off alone, not with him.’ Something in his stricken face told Bera that even now he thought he might go with her.

  Determination gave her a quick answer, though she spoke as if it had always been her intent.

  ‘I won’t be alone. My son will be my escort… and my second when Faelan and I go to the far side of Ice Island to Smolderby.’

  Dellingr was waxen. He gave Bera a long look, brushed off Asa’s arm and walked away. It would be obvious to everyone how he felt. She hoped they could respect him enough to lead after this.

  Ginna made to follow her parents, then stopped.

  ‘We trust you, Bera,’ she said.

  Bera smiled. ‘I think only you do, Ginna, but I am glad.’

  ‘Can I say goodbye now?’ Heggi asked. ‘Properly?’

  ‘Make sure no one sees you. Go up to the huts with Faelan.’

  ‘But I—’

  ‘That’s where I left the horses,’ Faelan told him.

  Clever Faelan, using Heggi’s love of animals.

  ‘I’ll finish off here,’ Bera said. ‘Say goodbye to Ginna, then come to the longhouse for me.’

  She wanted time to think and stayed there, rooted to the unsteady earth.

  Had Thorvald been Dellingr’s anchor, as he had been Hefnir’s? Could the smith be trusted to look after the settlers?

  Fear causes aggression.

  ‘Use words I know.’

  Who he is lies in his hands, using the old ways, like curing a child of rickets.

  ‘If he hasn’t forged, his water trough can’t heal.’

  It was an example.

  ‘I think he will be more the man if I’m not here.’

  And you are thinking better already.

  The truth of it made her sad.

  Bera went back to the hall but no one was there. She was glad that Sigrid was avoiding the pain of it. She rammed a few things for Heggi and herself into two kit bags. Sigrid probably wanted company, comforting Asa with the babies. Bera found it hard to imagine this other life of hearth and home. She had to accept that Asa had been Sigrid’s friend ever since the red-spot, when she helped save her life. She touched her beads and the black stone was blazing.

  She looked round the new longhouse, built with sad stones. It could never be a warm hearth, this place.

  Glad to escape into the yard, Bera found Faelan, with no horses.

  ‘They’ve been hobbled,’ he said.

  ‘Oh no! Not Miska!’

  ‘It was cleverly done – small cuts in the right place, so they will heal but not soon enough to travel. We have to go on foot.’

  ‘Who did it?’

  ‘No one there to see.’

  Dellingr had come to the fight from the ruins.

  ‘Could Dellingr have done it out of spite?’ Faelan asked.

  Bera wanted to convince herself. ‘No smith would ever do that to a horse, especially Dellingr. You saw how
he was with Miska. He treats them gently and with respect.’

  ‘It’s me he has the problem with.’

  Rakki romped into the yard and licked her hand.

  ‘Look, here’s Heggi coming now,’ she said. ‘If we’re walking we’d better start while there’s light and get some distance between us and Dellingr. I can’t believe he would hurt us but I don’t want him to follow.’

  12

  Freedom.

  At first, Bera revelled in the feeling and liked the idea of having the wide expanse of new land to explore in the lengthening days. She refused to think about the horses. But then Heggi started asking questions: Had Dellingr done it and why? She said it must have been some pedlar, and when he opened his mouth again she sent him off with Rakki. Her skern tutted.

  ‘Did Dellingr do it, then?’

  Past, ducky, no idea. Whoever it was knew how to only hobble the horses.

  ‘A smith has the skill but why would he?’

  So he can keep up with you?

  Bera was alarmed. ‘He must protect the homestead! Anyway, he heals horses with iron, not hurts them.’

  You don’t want it to be him, do you?

  ‘I relied on him like a father. Now I wonder if Ottar was the better man.’

  We all have our foibles. Don’t be so black and white.

  As they walked, other worries crowded in. Bera felt lost and guilty about leaving her baby with Sigrid, for both their sakes. Then a thought struck her: her daughter was wearing her black bead, given by the pedlar with the poison. Leaving had been fraught and rushed and then the horses being hurt had made her forget everything else.

  ‘Should I worry about the black bead?’

  Time will tell.

  ‘In other words, you don’t know.’

  What do you want to believe?

  ‘I believe that Fate has decided Valdis and I will wear a black bead so that we are joined even though we’re apart.’

  He laughed. Sweet. It doesn’t bring any knowledge of her, though, does it? And it’s changing, isn’t it?

  ‘All right, it feels hotter than the others. Didn’t you tell me the amber bead protects me from the black?’

  Did I? It must be true.

  How she envied Heggi, who cried when he left Ginna but then quickly set off, whistling. It was like giving away the puppy – one minute he loved Tikki and the next she was gone. Was he as fickle as his father? There he was with his dog now, throwing sticks for him without a care. Life was simple for him.