Page 34 of Viking Warriors: Vol. 1-3
I placed my tunic over my head and looked through into the great space of the hall, where the embers were glowing still. There was a keening from the far end, where Asta slept.
As I hurried through, I saw Guðrún peeking from the alcove in which we prepared food, with Sylvi behind her.
Another curtain swept aside and Gunnolf appeared, bare-chested; Faline was beside him, her fingers curled about his arm.
He inclined his head to me—in recognition, I supposed, for my having risen to attend his wife. My returning nod was brief before I looked away.
The lamp’s wick was still lit on her bedside, though almost burnt to the quick, its illumination showing me the paleness of her face as she sat up in the bed, her eyes wild and dark. I wrapped her close, for she trembled.
“Did you hear him?” She clung to me, her cheek clammy against mine.
I thought she referred to Gunnolf and his wayward behaviour. It was a subject none mentioned in Asta’s presence.
“Nay, my lady. I heard nothing. The house is quiet.” I rocked her gently upon my shoulder.
“I couldn’t find him, no matter how I looked.”
“Only a bad dream,” I soothed, encouraging her to lie back.
“Where do they go? The babies that die?” She licked her lips and I saw they’d grown cracked.
“Your child is well, my lady, growing safe inside you.” I smoothed a tendril of hair from her forehead. “There’s nothing to fear.”
She cradled the curve of her belly, turning her face full to mine, her eyes pleading for reassurance.
“I couldn’t watch when they put him in the fire.” Her fingers fluttered, fretful. “The smoke carries them to the next world; that’s what they say, but I don’t know if I believe it.”
“We all have dark thoughts, my lady, but no one will harm your baby. I’ll make sure of that.” Taking her hand in both of mine, I whispered softly, saying whatever I could to pacify her. “You’ll always be safe when I’m near. You’ve had a nightmare. It’sdraumskrok: no more than dream-nonsense.”
In her fright, she looked more like a child than a grown woman and I was reminded that she was little more than my own age.
“I’ll mix a draught to make you sleep again; deep, so that the dreams won’t come.”
I attempted to rise, but she wouldn’t release my hand. “Gunnolf promised not to burn my body; he’ll bury me where we put the ashes.”
“Ashes?”
“From my first.” Asta lifted herself from the pillow, pulling me closer, crushing my fingers within hers. “He’s alone, under the frost, in the forest.”
In all the months I’d tended her, she’d never mentioned another birth. What pain there must be, to bind bones and flesh within one’s own body, to feel the heartbeat of another, only to see that creation brought to nothing. It was little wonder her mind strayed to this lost child, despite her carrying a new babe. Perhaps the pregnancy had caused her mind to wander, but it would do no good to dwell on what was gone.
“We can’t choose our time of death,” Asta asserted, her voice faint, yet resolved. “Only the Nornar may do that.”
I remembered Helka telling me of this legend: that the three women of destiny carved each life upon a stave of wood at the time of our entering the world. Nothing could change what happened. It was this that inspired the bravery of the Norsemen, Helka said, for what is there to lose when a man’s fate is predestined.
“It’s likeThe Song of Skirnir.” Asta sighed. “My destiny is fashioned down to the last half-day, and all my life is determined.”
“No more of that, my lady. Think of the new baby coming, arriving with the spring. How happy you’ll be then.”
The tension seemed to leave her body and she released my fingers, lying back once more.
“I think I shall never see it.”
She spoke quietly but I heard every word, and an unsettling feeling overtook me, sitting there, wrapped in shadows. Looking at her face so pale, I saw the skull beneath her skin, and shuddered.
12
Winter continued, in snow-deep slumbering stillness. As the very darkest days approached and the festival ofJuldrew near, some ventured forth with the full moon to gather mistletoe. The same scythes that had reaped maize and barley from the fields brought down the evergreen foliage, rich in white berries, dangling in great clusters from the trees.
