“I don’t care for Harald. Give me a little credit?” she answers, shivering from the fresh snow hitting her windowpane. Prompting me to add two more logs to the fire, I step over Aslaug as the lazy cat stretches out to show me her bandaged side.
“I owe you, so you name it. But in the meantime, Bjorn took something from me. I need it back, and I need to know if Harald has it or has seen it,” I explain. Rubbing my hands through the cat’s thick fur, I am surprised at how frail her body is. Years ago, I thought of her as immortal as Freya herself.
“That is a tall ask,” Rasha mutters, pacing around her room in bare feet as her plain, dark-green dress drags against the floorboards. “Bjorn is unpredictable from my short time knowing him. Why would he steal something from you when Harald could have asked?”
“Maybe Harald asked once, and I lied.”
“That doesn’t sound hypothetical. Also, if you want us to work together, you can’t assume I am going to run and tell Harald.” Standing at the foot of her bed, she wraps her arms around herself.
“I have omitted many parts of my life to Harald because he will not act in the Vikings’ best interest if he knows the things I know.”
“Which are? How am I supposed to find what Bjorn took if I don’t know what it is used for?”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, and don’t end up alone with Bjorn under any circumstances. If you hear him talking about a map tothe mountain pass, come and get me. Alright?” I cannot stress enough that she doesn’t need to put herself in danger. Rasha leans back on her bed, a multitude of scenarios running through my mind, ranging from delicate to downright wicked. I need to resist the urge to satisfy her in a way that none of the men here ever will.
“Tell me what it is you need the most?” Hopefully it is a task I can see through easily, and then we can find a safe exit for Aslaug.
“I need Skadi’s bow,” she whispers across the quiet space. My muscles tense against my clothes, too hot for a blacksmith who’s used to smoldering temperatures. The bow? How could she know about the one thing I have been searching for over an eternity for?
“You don’t know that exists.” I slowly gauge how much she knows and search for what the gods have already laid out for her.
“It must. Why else would Harald be so keen on keeping women from hunting and refuse to give women in his clan any freedom. There must be merit to the ballad, or it would mean nothing to celebrate her. The King will force us to give up our land. I can take whoever wants to come with me to the mountains to live with the reindeer if I have the bow.”
“You’re ambitious,” is all I can muster. Gathering her long, red hair, she lays it against her chest and combs out the ends. “Give me something that is not impossible to achieve. The bow is not real, Rasha. It’s a fool’s promise.”The lie is for her own good.Aslaug’s soul catching stare makes it harder for me to continue.
“There has to be a way to know for sure. A lynx this size came from the gods. There are stories and ballads of them sending animal guides to our Mortal Realm. Once, the reindeer provided meat and hides for warmth and milk to our children. There must be a way for us to live with them again,” she persists, despite being flustered.
“After the Divination feast, we can search the fjord for her burial place if it pleases you. It will be nothing but a collection of stones long forgotten. But I should go now before someone discovers I am in the Maiden’s room.”
“I hate that title,” she says, pushing off the bed and going to the door.
“By the way you handled yourself today, I’d say you earned it.” I try to give her hope, even though her path to Harald seems set.
“I saved my virginity for the gods, not for a man to squander.” Her admission settles in my perpetual guilt. If she only knew gods squander what they hold most dear too.
“They haven’t forsaken you. That I can promise. Be careful with her,” I say in parting. She checks to make sure the hallway is clear, and I give Aslaug a good head scratch before leaving.
The door shuts, and I wait till she turns the lock before pulling the hood over my head and leaving the stronghold. Her scent left my coat smelling like sweet evergreen and fresh arousal. Her fucking, full lips and determined, blue eyes will be impossible to forget.
Back in the forge, I light the kiln to keep the room warm and the irons hot. Giving the resident blacksmiths a break for the days of Yule wasn’t only a nice thing to do, but I prefer to be alone. Reaching for the honeyed wine I hid under the cot, I let the thick, warm liquid settle me from the inside. My cock is hard, sitting useless in my trousers. Am I truly contemplating that she could be who I think? Taking a deep swig from the bottle, I lay down and pray for sleep.
Rest overtakes me along with snow and sleet. Waking up in the middle of the night to a blast of icy wind and snow piling around the doors, I race to pull the walls closed around the forge so the kiln doesn’t lose its flame. My hands are frozen as I bring in all the wood I should have brought in earlier and stack it by the table to keep dry.
The storm howls, rattling the walls as sneaky snowflakes pour through the loose cracks in the wood. Can’t a man have any peace in this life? Adding another layer of clothes to my tunic and trousers, I put my coat on and walk out into winter’s fury.
The sun will not be up for another few hours, and in the frigid layers of falling snow, I won’t have to worry about anyone following me. Thinking about Rasha, hopefully sound asleep with Aslaug high above me, I trudge away from the stronghold toward the fjord.
Watching Rasha with the bow, not just her beautiful form with the arrow, but how she defended herself and her people, I know whyI am here. I wish the stars gave me another task in redemption. After seeing what her clan, her own flesh and blood has done to her, it doesn’t seem fair to put her through another trial. The gods are never wrong, and to bring a virgin huntress here, during this solstice, is not a coincidence.
7
RASHA
The next day is uneventful. I steal a leg of lamb and slip back up to my room as night draws near. Aslaug is immediately thrilled at the fresh, oily meat and happily chomps down on a good meal for the first time in who knows how long. It is good to see her in better spirits.
Everywhere in my room, I feel Shaw. His ability to break in without me knowing revolves in my mind, making it impossible to sleep. Maybe I want him to come back? A different type of thrill throbs in my belly when I remember how he looked at me against the moonlight. Then my heart sinks as I remember how quick he was to tell me the bow wasn’t real. Everyone keeps saying it doesn’t exist, but the way Shaw’s face changed when I mentioned it, fuels my plan.
Tomorrow, I will have to sit outside with Harald at the Yule log, accepting offerings from Vikings in our clans, but tonight, I am left alone in my room. As much as I welcome the quiet, nights like this, when Jorvik doesn’t return to our home, or I am the last one hunting on the mountain, makes my grief resurface like flowers I planted long ago, rising through the dirt on their own accord. Eachbeautiful petal reminds me how much our parents loved us, and how much I wish they were here to guide me.
