Shardfall Page 9

CHAPTER 9 – HELMSHAVEN

  ‘It must have been Eidun,’ Kjelle said the next morning. His voice and the glint in his eye betrayed his rage. ‘Why would our founding father show himself to you, and not to me, his descendant? You're not a man of Eidungruve, not a Nord, not a ...’

  Muus heard him in silence, his mind elsewhere.

  ‘It was a vision,’ Birthe said, while she breastfed Búi. ‘It wasn’t about your ancestor at all, Kjelle Almansen. That old runemaster was the focus.’

  ‘What?’ Kjelle avoided looking at her while she had the babe to her breast.

  He has seen breasts before, the rabbit. Is he jealous of Búi? Muus thought absently. Then Birthe’s words registered. ‘The runemaster?’

  The girl half turned towards him. ‘Of course. He left that vision behind for someone who has rune magic. It was a last will. People like him know when they shall die.’ Her voice trembled. ‘My völva must have known her death, too. All that time she kept it a secret from me. Freya help me, she knew it.’ Leaking tears, she held up Búi until he burped.

  Kjelle, only half-convinced, muttered, ‘Why all the fuss? Couldn’t my forefather have taken that cursed bone?’

  Had Birthe been a runemaster, her glance would have burned the theynling on the spot.

  ‘What would you have done? That bone caused a deadly lightning. It possessed power that scared the crap out of you and its rightful bearer had just died. Would you have picked it up and put in your pocket?’

  The theynling colored. ‘No.’

  The girl shrugged. ‘Neither did your ancestor. That runemaster must have known he would not.’

  ‘How could he have seen something that happened after he died?’ Muus said.

  Birthe looked at him. ‘He didn’t, the Kalmanir made it for him. The standing stone knows everything that was, is, will and can be. A völva like Asgisla has the strength to ask for such a vision. Your runemaster must have done the same.’

  Muus looked at his hand and remembered the pain. At least that old one managed not to burn his fingers.

  A few hours later, after a meal of toasted bread and venison, they left. Birthe had the lead, with Búi on the sled, asleep in the folds of the tent. The path down from the Vrakken Pass brought them back to King Hurald’s Way and from there the rest of the journey went without mishap.

  Five times Moon had ridden across the sky when they reached Helmshaven. It was less cold there and the snow lay wet and mushy on the fields. The sky was cloudy over a dark sea and none of it showed the old harbor town in a favorable light.

  ‘It's all just as I remember,’ Muus said. He stared at the small huts of salt-bleached wood and thatched roofs, at the muddy and narrow streets where foraging pigs and geese demanded right of way, at the stone quay where longships swayed with the swell, and he shuddered at the memories.

  ‘That’s a big town,’ Hraab piped. ‘So many people.’

  ‘About two thousand in summer,’ Birthe said with indifference. ‘Now it’s less, because many merchants have gone south for the winter. You see it at its best; most of the time it’s raining, snowing, blowing a gale or all three together. Helmshaven is not a pleasant place to live.’

  ‘You know the town?’ Muus said.

  ‘I was born here.’

  Muus looked at her in surprise. ‘You were? I thought your father was a hunter?’

  The girl flushed. ‘Later he was. When I was small, we lived here in Helmshaven. You see that house in the center, with the shingled roof? That was ours. Now Skid Largassen owns it.’

  ‘It’s a big house,’ Ajkell said. ‘Were you rich folk?’

  Birthe nodded. ‘My father was Largassen’s associate.’

  Muus turned and stared at her. ‘He was what?’

  Again the girl colored. ‘Wait! My father had nothing to do with your abduction. He didn’t approve of child slavery. For years, my father and Bearjaw went on raids together, cruising up and down the coast of Brytanna, all the way to Espayne and back, bringing home the riches of towns and temples. Slaves too, but never children. It was father’s weak spot, Largassen used to say. Then my mother became ill and that summer my father stayed at home. He paid Bearjaw his share, fifty percent as usual, in exchange for a third of the loot. Largassen sailed, but that autumn he didn’t return. Nor did he come the next year and the one after that. My mother’s illness grew worse and my father paid for healers, for cures, even for a doctor from Gaul. In the third year, my mother died. My father had spent all the money he had and could loan, and now we were poor. That fall, Largassen returned. He had spent those three years in the kingdom of Duiblinn, raiding Brytanna’s west coast, and he returned with his ships laden to the top of the sides with riches. Of course my father went to hear of his adventures and to collect his share of whatever Bearjaw brought home.’ She paused and looked at the others. ‘Bearjaw didn’t remember any deals. He denied my father had paid his share. He offered to buy our house for a pittance, “For old time’s sakes”. My father was too tired and certainly too poor to fight a man as rich and successful as Largassen the Viking. He used the money on a good bow and some supplies. Then we left Helmshaven.’ She fell silent for a moment. ‘This is the first time I come back here.’

  ‘Now we’re going to collect gold from that Bear,’ Hraab said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, he owes us, doesn’t he? He abducted Muus and swindled Birthe’s father. He can give us some money to make good.’

  ‘Largassen knows where he found me,’ Muus said half to himself. ‘I would like him to tell me.’

  ‘Bearjaw won’t let you come inside his house.’ Birthe took her bow from its case and began to string it. ‘He’s always been afraid that one of his abducted slaves would come to kill him. One look at you tells him you’re a Bryt and then he’ll set his servants on you. With me, you will stand a chance. The viking knows me; I haven’t changed all that much and he... liked me.’

  ‘He liked you,’ Muus said, the distaste in his voice was palpable. ‘Let’s go and have a word with this brave viking.’

  ‘Not all of us,’ Birthe said. ‘Just you and I; no need to frighten the bastard.’

  ‘And I,’ Hraab said. ‘It was my idea.’

  ‘All right.’ Ajkell looked at Kjelle. ‘We frightening ones will wait outside with the sled. Just don’t take all day.’

  Largassen’s house was large for a town dwelling. It had been built with oak on a foundation of stone, with a gallery on all sides, supported by carved columns. The roof, shaped like an upturned longboat, was covered by wooden shingles.

  The three stepped inside, straight into the arms of a thin woman in a black and red dress.

  ‘Who are you?’ she said in a voice as sharp as her face. ‘The mistress doesn’t receive visitors when the Master’s a-raiding.’

  ‘Matta,’ Birthe said with a smile. ‘Is that how I’m welcomed?’

  The woman bent her face closer and then her face relaxed.

  ‘Birthe! For Frigga’s Love, you’re a woman grown. I didn’t recognize you, girl; my eyes are failing me. How long it’s been? It must be ten years since you left.’

  ‘Nearly,’ Birthe said. ‘And a lot has happened in them, not all of it good. My father died, and I’m a widow now. So Largassen is away? Who is your mistress?’

  ‘Hilde Luolfsdotter, whom Largassen married two summers ago.’

  ‘Why, the lecherous goat. She’s my age and Bearjaw is old enough to be her father and more.’

  The woman cackled. ‘He likes them young, the Master does. You know that; he liked you, too.’

  ‘I know he did,’ Birthe said. ‘He wanted to bed me when I was eight. I could’ve sold myself to him and we’d still be living here. My father didn’t want that either, or else I’d have run away. They should’ve castrated that dog years ago.’

  Again old Matta laughed. ‘You haven’t changed, love. Come; let me take you and your friends to the mistress.’

  ‘Matta was our servant, befor
e Bearjaw took over,’ Birthe said. ‘She practically raised me.’

  Largassen’s wife was a small, buxom blonde, with big blue eyes and a child-like expression.

  ‘Birthe.’ She stretched her arms out wide and embraced the young völva with tears in her eyes. ‘Oh, I’m so happy to see you, after all those years. Who are your friends?’ She looked at Muus and her eyes grew big. ‘You... you’re a Bryt. Were you a slave? You didn’t come to kill him, do you?’

  Startled, Muus spread his hands. ‘No, I’m not. I wanted some answers.’

  ‘And gold,’ Hraab said. ‘Don’t forget the gold.’

  ‘Hush, child.’ Birthe didn’t look at the boy, but concentrated on the blonde girl. ‘Don’t worry; we have come without murderous intent. Why did you marry him, Hilde? Was he such a good match?’

  The girl shrugged. ‘He’s rich. He gives me what I want, and he’s often away. When he is home, he has other amusements.’

  ‘Children.’ Muus’ voice dripped disgust.

  The girl looked away, and then nodded. ‘He never misuses his own catches; he wants to auction them off as virgins. I have the servants buy some from other traders when he comes home, and when he leaves I sell them again. Oh Birthe, what else am I supposed to do? Should I let him fondle me?’

  Birthe stepped back and looked Hilde up and down. ‘You’ve sunk low. If this were known...’

  The girl cried out. ‘Please don’t tell anyone. He’ll kill me.’

  Hraab stopped wandering through the room and sat himself down on the edge of the table, swinging his bare legs.

  ‘Gold will keep us silent.’

  ‘I’ll have you thrown out of the house.’

  The little boy grinned. ‘Then we’ll tell all. And don’t try to be nasty, we’ve armed friends waiting outside.’

  Hilde hid her face in her hands. ‘You were my friend, Birthe.’

  ‘You’re a snake.’ Birthe spat on the polished table. ‘You leave a bad taste in my mouth, woman. You and that pig Largassen. He ruined my father and stole my friend away from his homeland; he molests slave children and...’ She shook her fists at the pale girl. ‘You’re lucky he isn’t home. We need answers, Hilde.’ The völva glanced at Hraab and nodded. ‘And some gold would come in handy. We have a long road ahead of us. But the questions come first.’

  Muus was already disgusted with the whole thing. The girl had sold her honor for a comfortable life; a cockroach was of more worth than she was.

  ‘I want to know only one thing,’ he said curtly. ‘Where did Bearjaw steal me? I must know where I was born.’

  The girl gave him a dirty look. ‘Kimbel will know. He’s my husband’s clerk, a slave from your land, Bryt.’ She yelled, ‘Matta!’

  The old servant answered her shrill call. ‘You want something?’ Her voice sounded surly.

  ‘Find Kimbel; let him bring the trade book.’

  A few minutes later an elderly man in a faded tunic entered. He had a large book under his arm. ‘Yes, mistress?’ There was a strange accent in his voice, which Muus hadn’t heard before.

  Hilde’s glance at Muus was poisonous. ‘Ask your question.’

  Muus shrugged and turned to Kimbel. ‘Largassen stole me away from my home in Brytanna ten years ago. I want to know where this happened.’

  The clerk peered at Muus. ‘Aogh an’bradh.’

  Muus shook his head. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘You should,’ the clerk said. ‘If you come from Brytanna, like me.’

  ‘I’m sorry. All memories from my childhood are gone.’

  The man stiffened. ‘Ah, it’s like that. You must be half-blooded. You’re a free man now?’

  Muus nodded.

  ‘Good. You should go back. Lemme see.’ Slowly he turned the pages. ‘Here it is. One boy slave, age six; sold to Hagen of Eidungruve for three gold pieces. Part of the Owwich merchandise. There you have it. You’re from Owwich.’

  Muus knew he should be glad. It was the information he’d been longing for. Strange; now he knew it left him unmoved. ‘Owwich. I can’t remember the name.’

  The clerk closed the book. ‘That’s why you should go back. Once in Brytanna, all you knew shall return.’ He turned to his mistress. ‘Will there be more?’

  Hilde waved him away without speaking and Muus felt his cheeks grow hot.

  ‘That’s all I wanted to know,’ he said and his clear anger made Hilde step back.

  Hraab clapped his hands. ‘Now, get the gold. Half of everything here belongs to Birthe. So don’t be mean.’

  A spasm of pain crossed Hilde’s face. ‘I can’t give you much.’

  ‘You don’t want to be chased out of town by a mob, do you?’ Birthe’s eyes were cold as her voice. ‘Misuse of children, even if they’re slaves, is not something a Nord will forgive. It’s unmanly and disgusting. Give us what you can spare.’

  ‘And then double that,’ Hraab said with a wide grin.

  Shaking, Hilde went to a large, ironbound chest in a corner. She took a bunch of keys from her belt and opened the lid. After a slight hesitation, she took out a leather pouch and threw it on the table. ‘There. Now get lost, all of you. And I hope you’ll rot.’

  ‘Probably you will first, after copulating with that filth Largassen.’ Birthe snatched the pouch from the table. She checked the contents and nodded. ‘That will do. Glad you were sensible, Hilde. I wish you a happy life with your husband.’ She marched out of the room, without looking back.

  ‘You humiliated her,’ Matta said, waiting for them in the hallway. ‘That’s good. She’s become spoiled meat. Bless the gods she’s stupid, without the servants she’d be sunk and she knows it. I wish you luck, dear.’ With that, she disappeared in the house.

  Outside, Kjelle and Ajkell turned when they appeared outside. Kjelle looked at Muus. ‘How did you fare with Largassen?’

  He’s away,' said Muus. 'We had words with his wife. After some persuasion, she had Bearjaw's clerk tell me where I was born. And our Hraab blackmailed her to pay us gold for our silence about some of Largassen’s habits she betrayed.'

  ‘Not only coins did I get you,’ the boy said brightly. ‘Look.’ From inside his tunic he produced an ivory comb, a silk kerchief, several golden objects and a long chain with precious stones. ‘She shouldn’t keep these lying around.’

  Muus glanced at Birthe. ‘Did you see him take these?’

  ‘It wouldn’t be much of a trick then,’ the boy said and he grinned.

  Birthe sighed. ‘No, I didn’t see a thing. I thought he was next to me the whole time.’ She stared at him. ‘You’re a thief.’

  The boy’s grin grew. ‘It’s something to do when times are hard.’

  The girl held out her hand. ‘They’re mine. By your own words, half of Bearjaw’s things are my inheritance.’

  Hraab’s face fell. ‘Loki Poki.’ He handed a small load of valuables to Birthe. ‘Here, killjoy.’

  ‘Where’s that chain? I want them all, or Loki will really poke you.’

  The little boy gave her the many-colored neck chain. ‘That’s the last.’

  ‘Honest?’

  ‘And this ring. That’s all, honest.’ He sighed. ‘Now I’m poor again.’ Then his face brightened. ‘I can always steal more.’

  ‘No,’ Muus said. ‘You won’t. We’ve got trouble enough without you setting loads of angry locals on our trail.’

  The boy grumbled something inaudible. ‘Can I at least steal from the Snake’s men? They’re after us already.’

  Muus laughed. ‘You can rob Rannar blind for all I care. As long as you don’t get caught.’

  ‘But then you’ll come and rescue me. You would come, won’t you?’ There was an unexpected hint of panic in the boy’s eyes and Muus gripped his thin shoulder.

  ‘Of course we would. But try not to, will you?’ He turned to Birthe. ‘How do we get to Harkoy from here?’

  ‘By ferry boat. Now that we have some money, we can buy passage.’
<
br />   ‘Right, let’s go’

  Tuuri returned to Helmshaven exhausted. He had hardly slept and his stock of food was almost gone. Most of what he had left he’d given to his horse, but it was never enough. The poor girl was like him, hungry and weary, besides having a troublesome shoe on her left rear hoof.

  There weren’t many folks in the street and most of them walked by without a glance. In the town center, he spied two young men sitting on a sled in front of a tall house.

  ‘Excuse me,’ he said. ‘Could you point me to a good tavern and a smith?’

  The taller of the two shook his head. ‘You’re out of luck, we’re strangers here ourselves.’

  ‘I remember there’s an alehouse at the harbor,’ the second one said.

  ‘You’ve been here before?’ the first one said in some surprise.

  ‘Last year. I went with Meili to Jonthal, as he went to meet his prospective bride. Of course he knew where the drinks were sold. He had a nose for it.’ The young man looked sad as he said that.

  ‘I’ll go to the harbor then,’ Tuuri said. ‘They can point me to a smith, I suppose. Thanks.’

  The Ribald Viking was a large barn, no more. A steaming hot common room, where several large fires burned and where large kettles nameless, eternally replenished soup simmered. He ordered a large bowl of the brow, with bread, and attacked it hungrily.

  ‘Been traveling long?’ the serving girl asked, looking him over.

  He nodded, sopping his bread in the soup. ‘Is there a smith around?’

  The girl smiled. ‘’Course there’s one, this is an important town, see. He lives right next door, in fact. That’s convenient for business. Aason!’ she yelled in a voice that would’ve penetrated to the town gates. ‘You’re wanted.’

  A lanky youth entered through a side door.

  ‘Whotsit? Not another leaky pot, I ‘ope?’

  The girl grinned. ‘The lordling’s horse needs a reshoe.’

  At that, the lad brightened. ‘A horse! We don’t often get to do that. Is it the pretty one outside, lord?’

  Tuuri smiled. ‘She is beautiful, isn’t she? Yes, she needs a new shoe left rear. Check the others as well, will you. Do you know where I can buy feed around here? We’ve come far and she’s hungry.’

  ‘I’ll see to it, lord. Love horses an’ it would be a pleasure.’

  ‘Great. Call me when you’re finished; I’ll be staying right here.’ Then he stretched out his legs, closed his eyes and slept.

  A hand shook him awake and he groaned. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Yer horse is shod ‘n fed, lord.’ The smith’s apprentice smiled. ‘Proper lady she is, too. I took the liberty of grooming ‘er a little an’ she seemed to like it.’

  Tuuri laughed at that. ‘Oh yes, she’s as vain as any girl.’ He sat up. ‘What day is it?’

  The lad looked at him. ‘Been away long, have you, lord? It’s the seventh day of the new year. Jest past midnight.’

  ‘Do me a favor,’ Tuuri said. ‘Go and see if my ship’s come in yet. A longship with red sails.’

  The apprentice nodded. ‘She is, lord. Came in an hour ago. I seen her before, she must be fast. Still, I like ‘orses better.’

  Tuuri yawned. ‘So do I. How much do I owe you?’

  The lad told him and he paid, tipping handsomely.

  ‘Thank-ye, lord,’ the apprentice said with a delighted grin. ‘Have a safe journey.’

  Outside, Tuuri checked the smith’s work and found it well done. ‘Well now, girl,’ he said, eying her carefully brushed sides. ‘The lad did you proud. Let’s take you home, before you get used to it.’

  He walked her towards Rannar’s boat.

  ‘Did all go well?’ the skipper asked.

  ‘I delivered my messages,’ said Tuuri tiredly.

  The skipper grinned. ‘You can sleep all you want; you’ve got a whole week of rest. We’re off to Nidros first. The jarl wants you to check on Lord Brundal; I got some orders for you to deliver. You’re finished here?’

  ‘Yes,’ Tuuri said. He wanted to get away from the north with its painful memories.

  The ferry, an old knarr that had seen better days, landed them on the quay not far from Jarl Dettrich’s fort. Kjelle, who hadn’t known anything but Eidungruve, was impressed.

  ‘So that’s what they call a stronghold,’ he said. ‘It’s big.’ He stared at the high, wooden walls seemingly growing from the hill that bore the jarl’s place. Double walls, filled with earth, and with a massive sea-gate, it had an aura of invincibility. Inside, the jarl’s longhouse was easily five times as big as Eidungruve’s. With all walls built on a foundation of stone, all visible woodwork carved and the roof shingled with black slate, it underlined the jarl’s power through his wealth as well as through his strength.

  At the sea-gate, one of the jarl’s guards stopped them. ‘What business have you, friends?’

  ‘I’m Kjelle Almansen, Theynling of Eidungruve. I need to see the jarl about mine and his affairs.’

  The man shifted his stance. ‘Then you’re out of luck. The jarl is away at the king’s court.’

  ‘Odin’s Beard.’ Kjelle felt his face growing red. ‘He’s away while traitors roam his lands, murdering the innocent?’

  ‘t Was by the king’s command he went. If your need is dire, you can speak to Jarl Dettrich’s wife Radgundis.’

  ‘The jarl’s wife is conducting his business?’ Kjelle couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice.

  ‘It’s clear you don’t know her,’ the warrior said with a broad grin. ‘The lady’s a former paladin from the king of Gaul’s court. She has a strong arm and a clear head, Radgundis.’

  ‘Lead us to her,’ Birthe said, stepping in front of Kjelle.

  The warrior glanced at her. ‘And who are you, girl?’

  ‘I’m the Völva Birthe, from Belisheim.’ The metal wand in her hand pointed at the gate watcher.

  The man paled. ‘I meant no offense, lady.’

  ‘No offense taken. Have someone lead us to the Lady Radgundis; our business can’t wait.’

  The warrior turned and gave a yell. Moments later a boy of some six years old appeared.

  ‘My son Folki,’ the man said proudly. ‘Bring the visitors to my lady, boy, and be quick about it.’

  The boy looked at Muus with big eyes. ‘You’re alves,’ he said, as he led them through the gate. ‘I know you are; I’ve seen them before, at night. Dancing in Moon’s light. Do you dance in Moon’s light?’

  ‘I do,’ Hraab said. ‘Sometimes, when Moon is full. It’s great fun.’

  ‘Is it?’ The little boy sounded wistful. ‘I daren’t go out when they dance; I’m scared they take me with them.’

  Hraab nodded. ‘That’s very smart of you. We alves don’t like to be disturbed when we’re dancing.’

  They entered the longhouse and the boy ran to a tall woman with gray-streaked hair. ‘Lady, lady, I bring you visitors, they’re alves.’

  The woman smiled at him. ‘Alves? My, my. Thank you for bringing them, Folki. Tell your father you’ve done well.’

  ‘Bye, alves,’ their little guide cried as he skipped outside.

  ‘The boy’s imagination often runs wild,’ the woman said gravely. ‘Welcome to our house. I am Radgundis, the jarl’s wife. You came for my husband? I’m afraid the jarl is away.’

  ‘We bring bad news for his ears, lady. I’m Kjelle, Theynling of Eidungruve. Great murder has been done there and elsewhere.’

  Radgundis’ face stilled. ‘Follow me to my room. Such things are best spoken of in private.’ She led them through the throng of workers, dealing out orders left and right, always with a pleasant smile and well received. Once in her room, with the door closed, her face lost its mask of cheerfulness. She looked worried as she motioned them to sit. With a small sigh she sank down on the edge of her bed and got her spindle and distaff out. ‘Your pardon, but spinning helps me think. These are trying times. Sometimes it seems there is no end to our tr
oubles. You are Alman’s son? I surely haven’t seen you at the jarl’s court before.’

  ‘No, lady,’ Kjelle said. ‘I’ve just passed my manhood’s Testing and my father hadn’t been well enough to present me yet. I... we come to you as fugitives, with tales of treacherous doings. Murderers stalk the land, ravaging and raping. All evidence points toward a certain infamous jarl in the south.’

  Radgundis fixed her eyes on his face, while her hands never stopped their work. ‘Tell me.’

  They spoke of the avalanche and Eidungruve’s fall, of the ambushed wedding party, the murder of Hraab’s family and the sacking of Belisheim. They told of Vulf and Swinne with their false green-and-yellow arrows and at that, the jarl’s lady gasped.

  ‘They’re false?’ she said, clutching the spindle to her breast. ‘They’re not Herigel’s?’

  Muus, surprised at her reaction, shook his head. ‘No, lady. ‘t Is all Rannar’s doing. He wants to stir up trouble between your husband and Jarl Waldrich.’

  ‘Dettrich must hear of this. He’s gone to the king to complain about Herigel. There were other attacks, you see. A farm burned, a theyn assassinated, cattle slaughtered. And with every deed were small things found that pointed at Herigel. We don’t want war with Waldrich, the Norden have trouble enough without two jarls fighting each other. Dettrich went to Nidros to demand the king’s support.’ For a moment she sank in thought. ‘You must go after him, theynling. You must warn my husband. In the harbor lies a merchant ship bound for the south. Her captain can take you to Nidros.’ She unpinned a small brooch on her shoulder. ‘Here, take this. My husband knows it well.’

  Kjelle saw Muus look at him. ‘It’s a step closer to my goal,’ he heard the boy say. ‘We’ll warn the jarl, lady.’ Kjelle nodded.

  Radgundis clapped her hands and said to the servant who entered, ‘Send for Walther, will you, and tell the cooks to prepare a basket of food for the theynling and his people. They are leaving on the jarl’s business.’

  The girl hurried away, while the lady resumed spinning. ‘I hope it won’t be too late. So many problems, so suddenly. What is Rannar doing? Surely not...?’

  Birthe moved slightly and the lady looked at her.

  ‘Asgisla knew. Rannar thinks he’d make a better king than Vidmer,’ the girl said.

  ‘As if anyone would trust him,’ Kjelle burst out.

  ‘More’s the pity,’ the Jarl’s lady said. ‘Rannar has abilities. If he weren’t such a treacherous hound, he might have won enough support to supplant Vidmer.’

  ‘Might is the word.’ At that moment, Búi started to cry and Birthe took him from his skins.

  Radgundis looked surprised. ‘You have a child with you?’

  ‘My son,’ Birthe said. ‘The only thing left of an overhasty marriage.’

  ‘Overhasty... you had no father or brother to arrange it?’

  Birthe shook her head. ‘I have no family, no clan. My father was a viking and foreswore all our ties on land so he didn’t have to share his gains. The old fool.’

  At this, Radgundis looked sharply at her. ‘I remember you,’ she said. ‘Your father was Gude, Largassen’s partner. My husband and I wondered where you had disappeared to, after your mother died. Is your father gone, too?’

  ‘We lived a hunter’s life, until a bear killed him. He’ll be hanging around in Helheim. No Valhalla for Gude Killed-While-Crapping. After his death I joined Asgisla and now I am a völva, and independent.’

  ‘You’re bitter for one so young,’ the Jarl’s wife said.

  Birthe sniffed. ‘I haven’t been well served by my men. My father exchanged our clan for the viking’s life so that when he was betrayed by the one he trusted most, we had no-one to turn to for aid. The boy I married was killed trying to impress me with prowess he didn’t have. No, I’m not proud of them, lady.’

  ‘At least you’re brave,’ Radgundis said with a slight smile. ‘I’ll not offend you by offering unasked-for help, but should you look for fostering, you can always come to me.’

  Birthe shook her head. ‘Thank you, but no. Búi is mine. I bore him after his father got himself killed and it was my decision not to put him outside in the snow to die, as tradition would have it. I kept him, fatherless, clanless, carrying my name. His fate and mine are one.’ She frowned for a moment. ‘At least until he’s grown.’

  At that moment, a short man entered. He wasn’t a Nord, with his straight hair cut a hand’s breath above the shoulder and his face clean-shaven. He bowed, something a Nord would never do, and his words echoed a language from far away. ‘You sent for me, Duchess?’

  Radgundis sat straight. ‘This is Walther, he is my procurateur. Walther. I want you to bring my visitors on board the Madgund and pay for their passage to Nidros. Tell the ship’s master they’re on the jarl’s business and that he has to sail as soon as the weather permits.’ Then she turned back to Birthe. ‘You’re a strong girl. May Fate be with you and little Búi Blue-Eyes.’

  Kjelle saw her face grow red and he wondered why. Had she expected censure? He knew well most girls in Birthe’s position would have had the babe dumped in the woods somewhere, so as not to spoil their chances on a second marriage. He shrugged; he’d have done the same.