We head down to take our places as the sun sets. The stronghold is a maze for the night, sectioned off with rolling partitions so no two ways stay the same, which creates plenty of dark corners for debauchery.
It took a few days for them to construct the partitions for the maze while the snow fell, creating a tundra outside. Looking up at the violet night sky, I don’t think it is a coincidence that due to a storm, our Wild Hunt now falls on the full moon. The moon will connect us to the fates, just like the runes connected us to the Seidr at the Divination feast.
The Wild Hunt symbolizes Odin’s everlasting hunt across the vast wilderness of the Vanheim. To honor him, before the chase begins, the men perform their own ritual. Cleansing their bodies,drinking, and using sacred oils, connects them to the gods and channels Odin’s strength.
In my bones, I know there was a time where women were equal hunters to men, and men took part in being our prey. Scrolls in our clan depict an equal number of women and men chasing after their counterparts, and some years, they would switch so that the clans could marry into different families, making the bloodlines strong.
Men who are already married assemble to keep fire basins stocked and anything too terrible from happening. Mothers and wives come from the sides with trays of hot sheep’s blood to consecrate our bodies in the name of Odin and Freya.
Harald drinks first and walks across to me, gazing up my body to the deer mask over my eyes and antlers sitting atop my head.
I shiver in a gust of snowy air and force myself to stand still. He dips two fingers in the blood and presses his fingers into my lips, dragging them down my neck until he reaches the clasp over my fur top.
“In the name of Odin, we hunt the quick and the primed.” He takes a sip and gives me the silver cup.
“In the name of Freya, we yield to the strong and the voracious,” I announce, making sure to turn to each side, including the women behind me. Taking a sip of the hot blood, I instantly want to vomit, but I swallow the thick gulp. Harald closes the space while the silver cups are passed around.
“You can run, but when I find you, I expect you to submit,” he commands, and I recoil. Adjusting the soft fur around my shoulders, I cover the ties that reveal my skin.
“You have to catch me, Harald. Do not make a mockery of the gods when the past few days have been difficult.” Looking past him, I watch men lift their masks slightly, but I don’t see Shaw. The fires cast long shadows on the group, making it impossible to know who is who. Jorvik is somewhere in the fray, but his fox mask and reddish fur vest are easier to spot since I’ve seen him in it before.
In light of Bjorn, I would expect most men to be respectful or fear the wrath of Freya, but pipes and ale make for Vikings with a loose definition of respect. Those who lurk in the shadows worryme. They might not go as far as Bjorn and his friends, but the way we found Katrine and Ingrid still haunts me.
The drums beat in unison, drowning out the heart pounding fear rattling my ribs. I am the huntress and am rarely the hunted. Most men will try to catch me first because kissing the Maiden or having a moment to touch me will bring them good fortune in their future marriages.
From deep inside the maze, a horn blows, and the Hunt begins. Not waiting a moment, I bank left and throw myself down the first hallway, keeping my eyes peeled for men. Women follow me, giggling in anticipation of being caught, and take heed to run through the first alternate pathway in the partitions.
I quickly look back to see Enora and Joanna coming my way. The women brush into me as we pause in a corner of the stonewall, and I pull the partition in front to hide us.
“What is the plan?” Enora asks.
“Don’t let Harald catch Rasha,” Joanna confirms.
“But girls,” –I grab their shoulders so they turn to face me– “don’t get yourselves in trouble on my behalf. There are still men who will be kind to a wife. The gods are watching.” I pull the partition open a fraction, slip in between, and run. It is best if I stay away from all the women and use the moonlight to track the direction I go.
All I want is for Shaw to find me so I can tell him that Jorvik has the map. Scratch that – I can’t lie to the gods. I want him to find me so he can claim me in front of all the clans and put an end to Harald’s demands.
Rounding the corner, I watch two more women run into from Leif, who has been nothing but kind. The smile on his face reminds me some still look forward to celebrating our rituals.Not everything must end in bloodshed.But still, my heartbeat threatens to burst through my ribcage.
“Little Rasha.” I hear Harald’s voice, but I don’t see him. Spinning around, I feel my legs for my knife, but the clans agreed to no weapons, so I am defenseless.
“If it takes all night, I will find you,” he says, and I whirl around,thinking he must be near me, but I don’t see anyone. The wall rolls, opening another pathway, and Katrine darts in front of me. Grabbing my hand before I can register what is happening, she pulls me down the new corridor in the dark.
“Joanna is keeping Jorvik busy,” she heaves, pushing her teased blond hair from her cheeks to fix her crown. “Think about giving in to Harald so he’ll take you back to his room, and you could stab him?”
“Katrine!” I hiss, and she forces a weak smile. We assess the three ways we can go from here, and I try to figure out where we are in the stronghold by the angle of the moon.
“Running away all night is exhausting.” She lets out a rattled breath.
“Have you seen Shaw yet?”
She shakes her head. “I haven’t, but he seems like the loyal type.” She pulls the partition slightly, giving us a view of an empty corridor.
“You’re brave for being here. I should have told you earlier,” I whisper, panicked that I might not be able to speak with her so freely any time soon. We keep moving, making sure the corridors are empty before running through, and I start to feel guilty for keeping her with me.
When we get to a cross, I give her hand a squeeze. “I’ll go towards the sound of hunters.”
“You sure?” she asks, but I’m already letting my feet silently lead me away, down zig zagging hallways. Plenty of people have started to lose themselves in one another. Slowing my frantic run to a careful walk, I can’t help thinking Shaw must have left. He could have been accused of hurting Bjorn unjustly, and he left because what importance am I to him?
