Saga smiled at the thought. It would not take much to envision the man’s arms around her, his lips brushing across hers.
“Why do your cheeks flush when I talk of him in such a way?”
“If you want me to admit that I like him, here it is. I like him. But that does not mean there is any future available to us. He did not come here to ask if he could move in. He wants to take his wife away. I simply cannot reconcile that thought, Vigdis. You know me well enough to believe that to be true.”
“I supposed I do. I want to see you happy.”
“I will be happy,” she said. She was sure she could settle down at some point when the right man came along. Why the gods had forced her attention toward a foreigner she did not know. “I just need to be patient.”
“Perhaps Freydis could consult the runes and see what is in store for you.”
“And what exactly do you think I should ask her? Whether or not I will find love? Or whether or not this stranger is a man I can trust with my heart? Do you not think Freydis will find it all far too amusing?”
“I think that you are used to getting your own way by brute force and now you are faced with a problem you cannot fight your way out of. You must accept there are other ways of solving problems.”
Saga sat up. “Our brother placed a sword in my hand when I was but five summers. And while you were being fitted for gowns, I was building muscle and scars. I do not criticize you for the things you like, and I think it unfair of you and unkind to do so to me.”
Saga threw the furs back and flicked her fancy shift over her head and onto the floor. She donned her leather trews and tunic, fastening them at her waist with her belt.
“I know you are angry with me, but you cannot go out there among the men while they are in their cups. It is not safe.”
“Do you really think me so weak that I cannot best a man when he is drunk? You continue to insult me sister. And do not worry, I will ask Bjorn to guard your door, so no one disturbs your slumber.”
“There is no need. I shall bolt the door,” she said in utter defiance.
With that Saga left the chamber. Did Vigdis really think she could throw insults and she would just stay and take it? Not in this life.
Not wanting to draw any attention to herself, Saga slipped out through a side door in Gunnar’s chamber. She turned the corner of the hall to see two men silhouetted against the inky sky. She stopped and waited for them to finish relieving themselves before moving forward toward the path leading to Freydis’ hut. The woman had long admitted she but rarely slept and so perhaps she could ask the gods for clarity surrounding Saga’s feelings at the very least.
Though it was dark, Saga knew exactly where she was going. She’d walked these paths her entire life and could do so with her eyes closed. Though, it was close to that this night with no moon and a thick cover of cloud.
As she drew nearer to Freydis’ hut, she caught a low mournful sound coming from the opposite direction. It was not an animal, most likely a man who’d had too much to drink at the feast. Still she would not leave him there to suffer alone so she turned right toward his quiet plea.
His figure grew in size as she drew nearer. He was a big man and only as she bent down to speak to him, recognized his scruffy blonde hair. Bjorn was one of few men in the village who cut his hair short.
“Odin’s blood! Bjorn is that you?”
“Ja. Saga? You need to get out of here. It is not safe.”
“Bjorn what happened? Come let me help you to Freydis’ hut. She will tend to you.”
“Please,” he said. “It is not safe.” As he said those words, his head fell back.
Saga listened for his breathing. It was very faint. She felt around his body until she found a sticky wet mass below his breastbone. It did not appear to be near his heart, but from what she touched, he’d already lost a lot of blood.
“Bjorn, I am going to get help. I will be back shortly, I promise.”
Saga ran to Freydis’ hut. A small light shone through the window, so she did not wait for her to answer the door, merely knocked and entered.
Inside, were two men who looked like they had been weeping although upon closer inspection it was clear they were raving drunk.
“Saga, what is it?”
“It’s Bjorn. He’s been stabbed. He is too heavy for me to carry here. You, and you. Come with me now!”
She did not wait to see if they followed as she ran back to where she’d left Bjorn. Once back to him, she lifted his head and held it in her lap.
“Hold on, Bjorn. Help is on the way. Listen to my voice and do not even think about feasting with Odin in Valhalla this night!”
