“We’ve lived here our whole life and never seen anything so amazing,” Enora exclaims.
“So are you going to tell me what you know about Shaw?” I ask, pressing my lips together to stifle my need for information.
“Only if you teach me how to shoot like that,” Enora replies. I raise my eyebrows at her boldness. Finally, someone around here who isn’t scared of challenging men. Following the group of women off the field, I give Jorvik a sweet wave. I earned this moment, and I’ve missed having company to talk too.
“I can teach you. Though I am alarmed that Harald and his men haven’t trained you?” I ask, and a few women behind me fall silent.
“Harald recommends we tend to the fields and our chores. But…”
“Enora. Hush,” Ingrid says, wedging herself between us. Glancing to my other side, I see Katrine and Joanna are hanging on the women’s admission that they truly are held back from learning crucial Viking skills.
“We cannot talk out here where anyone could overhear,” Ingrid explains. The women’s longhouse is in the middle of the village, giving us a beautiful view of the roaring Yule fire on our way. Embers smolder underneath, melting all the snow in the ceremonial circle, and the tall flames send plumes of white smoke into the cloudy sky.
“It feels like a storm is coming,” I say to break the awkward silence that followed Enora’s mention of the King.
“I wouldn’t mind,” Joanna adds. “Twelve days of feasting is exhausting. A few days of being snowed in and napping would suit me just fine.” She lets a tiny grin perk up her thin lips, and I wonder if she’s thinking of the lynx sleeping off her fever back in the stronghold.
We follow the women into the longhouse, and the instant smell of familiarity overwhelms me. Having double the amount of unwed women here means cots line the edge of the main room, and bedding is everywhere. I grin at how little Harald knows of his own clanswomen after accusing me of lying in a pile of my friends. I’msure there were women here who cuddled together last night for warmth.
“Welcome, Maiden of Yule.” Enora turns to face me, giving us all an outlandish, sweeping bow. “Our messy but comfortable home is also yours.”
I step over bags of extra clothes and pillows strewn across the floor toward the circular fire pit in the middle of the open room. Women casually chatting with one another walk into hallways leading to their rooms, and others find an assortment of cups for hot drinks.
“So tell me, why does Harald keep you all from hunting or using weapons?” I ask, finding a plush seat next to the fire.
“The King gave him orders too,” Enora starts explaining, but her friend interrupts.
“You are going to get us banished from the Wild Hunt or worse. Sorry, but I can’t get into any trouble. My family needs me to marry,” Ingrid says, unfastening her coat.
“I don’t want to get you in trouble.” I try to assure them, but it doesn’t feel like Ingrid believes me. Katrine and Joanna come to sit, handing out cups of hot tea, and Enora grabs a flask, adding a bit of liquor to each cup.
“I have heard stories that the goddess Skadi is buried here. Does anyone know where?” I ask, keeping my tone casual.
“Skadi is disgraced, and Harald is going to be livid that you won that archery match. The people will be praying for a feast in your name now, and that will make Harald jealous of the attention you are getting.” Ingrid is quick to explain.
“Why is she disgraced?” I bring the discussion back to Skadi.
“Think, Rasha. Harald may have the King’s support and favor, but only if he can get the Vikings in line. According to songs we no longer sing, Skadi was a goddess who renounced her betrothed and the realm of the gods to live on her own.”
“That sounds like a goddess we should be praying to, not disgracing,” I retort. Enora’s face lights up as she drinks, and the majority of the women nod in agreement. But Ingrid has a permanent scowl on her face.
Joanna perks up to add, “Harald and the King will force us eventually if we do not learn to live in the King’s new ways. None of us wants to be wed against our wishes. But Jorvik arranged for you to marry, and therefore, you can protect us as best as you can.”
“I know. I will always try to protect you. That is why I want to find the bow. It is a symbol of balance, and the other clan leaders will have to respect it.”
“You don’t understand.” Ingrid keeps her light eyes urgently fixed upon me. “They don’t care about the balance of the Immortal Realm and our world. The King doesn’t believe in the gods and goddesses.”
“Help me find the tomb so we have proof that we are not alone in this mountain range, that the gods are with us?” I am going out on a limb, which is dangerous, but there are too many women here who look at me like what I’ve agreed too will set the standard for the rest of them.
“That is impossible. The songs about the shrine and Skadi’s bow haven’t been sung in our lifetime. We can’t read the scrolls if Harald hasn’t burned them all already,” Ingrid says.
Sipping the hot tea, I contemplate what to say. The after burn of the liquor in each mouthful radiates down my chest and into my stomach. Joanna and Katrine engage in other conversations around me while I try to find a common ground between Enora, who wants me to defy the Jarl, and Ingrid, who would prefer I teach all the women how to skin a deer rather than hunt one.
Slowly, the tension in the room unwinds as the women stock the fire pit with logs, and the room reaches a toasty temperature. I should find a reason to leave and check on the lynx, but Enora has something of the tip of her tongue, which makes me hesitate. Someone asks Ingrid to show her how to do a particular stitch for a dress, and she moves to help. Enora pounces on the moment and slides next to me in the pillows, putting her feet on the edge of the fire pit.
“Ingrid is scared. Please don’t think less of her,” she says as she fluffs her brown hair, each section falling over her shoulders in waves.
“What happened when Harald declared women could no longer hunt?” I don’t want to ask, but need to so I can understand what I am up against.
