Shieldmaiden Page 2

  ‘Over here. This is where it hurts.’

  Ingefried cleared her throat and he let go but our eyes stayed locked together and I felt my heartbeat quicken.

  As he grew stronger, Ragnar was supposed to spend time with my brothers practising weapons-skills but they avoided him, Thorstein because he had perfected the skill of avoiding anything to do with sword and axe and Steinar because he took such a thrashing on their first encounter, he was frightened to try again. So I offered to help.

  ‘It’s not sword-play I want with you, pretty Sigrid.’ Ragnar laughed and looked at me in such a way I felt both angry and happy at the same time.

  ‘She’s good,’ said Steinar. ‘She’s better than me.’

  ‘That doesn’t take much.’

  ‘Don’t be discourteous to my brother,’ I said. Ragnar laughed and, feeling only a little remorse for being disloyal, I joined in. Steinar muttered something under his breath. But when I drew my sword and picked up a shield, Ragnar lowered his.

  ‘I can’t fight you, Sigrid.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘This isn’t play. It’s serious practice for warriors. You’re a woman. Women aren’t warriors.’

  My smile faded as I realised he was not teasing.

  ‘Well, this woman is, so defend yourself !’ I went towards him, sword raised. He took a step back. ‘Coward!’ I hissed and slashed a blade of grass at his feet. He leaped aside and I followed.

  ‘Get him, Sigrid!’ called Steinar. Ragnar raised his sword and shield.

  He was good, a real swordsman. We practised together the rest of the afternoon. He always won but he taught me much about how to parry a blow with my shield and how to confuse the enemy by looking behind them or by shouting out. There is more skill involved in fighting without causing injury than there is in killing and maiming. It was many years before I realised how I had courted danger with that attack. My father realised however and, when he found out, he spoke to me with an anger I had rarely seen in him. But worse than that, he took my beautiful sword Snakebite from me. I loved that sword but now my father took it back.

  The next day he had calmed down. He came and sat next to me and took my hand.

  ‘Ragnar has taken the blame for this but I know you too well, Sigrid. One thing I have failed to teach you is to choose your opponents and to keep a cool head. Fighting Steinar and the untried boys at the Allthing is different. Oh yes, I know about that. Did you think nobody would tell me? I had to pay compensation to Mord Lambason when you made his son lame.’ He sounded amused and a bit proud rather than angry and I cheered up. But then he cleared his throat and with a stern face continued: ‘Look Sigrid, you shall marry and have sons, who will be brave like you. But that will not happen if you are scarred or maimed.’

  ‘But Father you say yourself I have learnt well. May I not have Snakebite back? I will take more care, I promise. Maybe we could find a helmet for me as well.’ At this point my mother joined us.

  ‘So that’s where you are. Did I not warn you Kveldulf, the girl will become impossible to marry. Who shall want a wife better at swordplay than weaving? Will you finally put a stop to this folly and get rid of that sword?’

  I squeezed my father’s hand and held my breath. He stayed silent.

  ‘Kveldulf ?’ my mother’s voice was full of angry impatience. My father released his hand from mine and stood up to face my mother with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

  ‘I have thought this through, Gudrun. Sigrid has the heart of a warrior. She is of my blood and of your father’s. Our roots are in Norway and in the way of the Norse. So I shall not get rid of it. But she shall only have it back when she shows more sense in how to use it.’ He held up a hand to stop my mother saying anything more and turned to me. ‘It is not a play-thing. Wielded by a hand that’s not guided by the head it is a dangerous and destructive thing. Now, there’s the end of it. And, Sigrid, you need to apologise to Ragnar for attacking him. Steinar tells me you were defending his honour but Ragnar is our guest.’

  As I left them, I heard my mother complaining: ‘I don’t want her spending time with Ragnar. The less we have to do with the family of Jarl Swein, the better.’

  I found Ragnar grooming his horse. He smiled and put down the bunch of teasels.

  ‘You know, Sigrid, your father is almost as frightening as you are.’

  I burst out laughing. When I got my breath back I tried to apologise, as my father had told me to, but Ragnar shook his head.

  ‘You are not to blame. I was arrogant and should not have offended Steinar. Is Kveldulf Arnvidson very angry still?’

  ‘He took Snakebite from me.’ I choked on the words. ‘He says I can have it back when my head guides my hand. It’s so unfair.’

  ‘Well…’ Ragnar didn’t continue and I looked at him. He chewed his lip. Then he sighed. ‘Your father may have a point. You’re not going to deny you have a temper, are you? That’s why I won all the time. You rush… Oh, Sigrid, don’t cry. You are a good swordsm… woman, I mean. Your father will give you Snakebite back, surely.’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘If he doesn’t, I shall give you a sword so magnificent it has no equal in all of Cumbria.’ He had a way of screwing up his eyes so they looked full of laughter. I wiped my tears. It was impossible to be sad around Ragnar. ‘I understand now, you’re no ordinary girl. I think maybe you’ll be a shieldmaiden, like in the stories.’ I felt my cheeks burn but couldn’t help smiling. He laughed and took my hand.

  ‘Thorstein tells me there are trout in the beck,’ he said. ‘Race you there.’

  Full of young happiness we ran through the meadow, down to the water. It was the most perfect day and, when we heard Ingefried calling me, we crossed the stream and walked along the lake-shore until we were well out of earshot. We talked, the way young people do, about all and everything and, although I think we must have disagreed about some things, we forged such strong bonds, I felt they were for life.

  Five glorious days we rode, swam, hunted and laughed together. We climbed Raven Crag and White Crag and up to the ridge of Mellbreak. From the tallest peak we looked across Crummockwater to the looming bulk of Grasmoor wondering whether there were giants there. We tickled trout and cooked it over an open fire. We sneaked away early in the mornings and had no need to return until the light failed. We fed on berries and fish and wild fowl we snared by the lake. The world was ours. Avoiding my mother’s and Ingefried’s demands that I carry out my duties on the farm became an amusing game. Many times afterwards I wished I had not been so reckless about that. But I was happy and gloried in Ragnar’s friendship.

  One day we rode up onto Burnbank Fell where we had spotted a small herd of roe-deer a couple of days before. We tethered our horses to track on foot. I wore breeches and a tunic and my bare feet moved silently on the soft grass. Ragnar nodded and we split up to approach the herd from different directions. He disappeared round a low knoll and I continued to move at an angle to his path. When I saw him about sixty ells away I waved. We got down and began creeping up on the deer. I got so close, so very close. I saw the strong, yellow teeth biting off the grass, the small, pointed horns and the delicate hooves. I reached for an arrow.

  But we had mistaken the direction of the wind. One of the does sniffed the air and then they were all moving away from us. We ran with them, keeping them in our sight. After a while they stopped and resumed their grazing. Ragnar crouched next to me. We were both breathing hard with the effort of running. I looked at his hand where it rested on the ground. It was tanned and covered in fine golden hairs that glistened in the sun. I could smell the sweat and feel the heat from his body and it made my insides go soft and warm. I felt excited and confused and drew aside. He didn’t seem to notice. He pointed to a doe that had been separated from the rest of the herd. We crawled through the bracken to get down-wind of her. As we came within range we both pulled our bows. Two arrows pierced her neck. The doe ran, staggered, fell. We raised a victory
-cry putting the rest of the heard to flight.

  ‘You’re splendid, Sigrid,’ said Ragnar. ‘I sometimes feel we could conquer the world together.’ He laughed and put his arms around me. ‘You’re both my friend and my…’ He stopped. His arms tightened around my body and I gasped. My heart beat so hard, he surely must have felt it through our clothing, just as I felt his.

  There was a call from the distance.

  ‘Whoah, you two!’ Steinar had been sent to look for us. He seemed to take pleasure in relaying just how angry my parents were about my behaviour. We rode home in silence. After we released our horses into the meadow, Ragnar took my hand and whispered:

  ‘You’re my shieldmaiden, Sigrid.’

  The next morning Ingefried declared Ragnar well enough to travel. He was handed gifts for his family and my father sent a servant to show him the way to Buttermere. My mother looked pleased. I still remember Ragnar’s farewell to me.

  ‘We’ll meet again before long. Sigrid, don’t forget me.’ He kissed my hand as I gave him the drinking horn. His sea-green eyes held mine and we both trembled and spilt some of the farewell-ale.

  Jarl Swein’s farm by Buttermere was but half a day’s ride away and every day I watched out for Ragnar, expecting to see him arrive on horseback. I knew better than to ask my mother about him. My father’s reply the time I mentioned Ragnar was curt:

  ‘Put that boy out of your mind, daughter.’

  Two summers went by with no word from Ragnar or from the rest of the household at Buttermere. I suffered the doubts and the longing and also the teasing of those who found it amusing.

  3.

  Autumn on Becklund farm was always busy with preparations for winter. The store-houses were filled with grain, fruit and nuts. The animals we couldn’t feed through the cold season were slaughtered. I spent days on end with my mother and the thrall-girls in the cookhouse making sausages, brawn and black pudding. We needed salt to cure hams and preserve herring. To pay for that and other essentials my father took pigs and heifers or whatever animals we could spare to the market in Cockermouth. I sometimes accompanied my father on these trips.

  I was fair of face, strong in body and of a good family. Becklund was a prosperous farm and I began to attract the attention of marriageable men in the area. I turned down three proposals in rapid succession. My mother was vexed, especially when I returned Hauk of Swanhill’s elaborately carved love-spoon. Hauk’s messenger was barely out of earshot before she cried:

  ‘This just won’t do Sigrid. Hauk may only have one eye but he has the best farmland in the area and he returns with the largest catches of herring. You’d be well provided for. You can’t keep turning your suitors down like this, you’ll end up an old maid, a burden to your brothers.’ She talked about it for days but always out of my father’s hearing. She’d already lost that argument.

  ‘She’s still young, there’s no hurry,’ he said. ‘Let her find somebody she likes, no harm in that is there wife?’ The way he looked at my mother made her cheeks blush and the corners of her mouth stretch into a reluctant smile. ‘Oh, Kveldulf, really,’ she’d say and then father grinned and winked at me.

  But as the year passed my father too became concerned about my lack of interest in the local young men. He put a stop to my sword-practise and insisted that I should help my mother in the running of the house. Only when I had made progress in carrying out a woman’s duties would he consider returning Snakebite to me.

  One day he came to sit with me when I was salting herring.

  ‘I’m getting old.’ he began. I thought I knew what he was leading up to but couldn’t think what to answer so I continued sprinkling salt on the layer of cleaned herrings in the barrel.

  ‘Your brothers,’ he paused to clear his throat, ‘they have no children.’

  ‘I know,’ I said and slit the next herring open.

  ‘I need heirs. The farm, someone has to take over when I’m too old.’

  ‘Yes.’ I bent over the barrel spreading another layer of fish as evenly as I could on top of the salt.

  ‘This is your problem too.’ I straightened up and turned to him. He sat with his elbows resting on his knees and his head bowed as if searching the ground for an answer. ‘Thorstein will inherit the farm and you can stay on, as will Steinar, but when you are all old and weak there will be nobody to defend the farm, to work the land and keep you alive. You will be attacked and killed or starve in your old age and I will have built all this in vain.’

  I hadn’t thought of it like that before. Becklund without my father, with Thorstein and Freydis in place of my parents. And what if Thorstein died? Steinar and I trying to run the farm, perhaps with Freydis. We would be easy prey to the Scottish raiders who ventured ever further into Cumbria rustling cattle, robbing farmsteads and killing anyone in their way.

  I was almost past the age when a girl would expect to marry. The suitors I had turned down had taken other brides and after two years without a word, I had to accept that Ragnar had forgotten about me. With many bitter thoughts about his betrayal, I decided that, if I couldn’t have Ragnar and if I must take a husband, it didn’t matter who I got. So I agreed that my father should approach Hauk of Swanhill. He had not married and he still sought me out at the gatherings of the Allthing to praise me and offer gifts. He could probably be persuaded to disregard my earlier rejection.

  My mother was happy. She sang her Norwegian songs as she washed and braided my hair. She smiled as she pinned two new brooches to my pinafore.

  ‘I’m so proud of you, Sigrid.’ She kissed me and I saw tears gather in her eyes. ‘So proud, my beautiful daughter. Hauk is a good man. He will be a good husband.’ I was determined to make the best of my situation and tried to smile back. Hauk was a prosperous farmer. As his wife I would have thralls and servants to do the heavy, tedious work. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

  As we stepped outside for the gathered household to admire my bridal gear, my father stepped forward. He handed me the best present I could ever have wished for and I gave a triumphant shout as I once again held my beloved Snakebite. My mother was not so pleased.

  ‘Kveldulf ! Oh, husband how can you be so foolish,’ she hissed so the servants wouldn’t hear.

  ‘The fylgia, I have seen her. Sigrid shall need her sword. There’s no getting away from it.’ My mother’s eyes widened and drew her breath through open mouth.

  ‘The fylgia,’ she whispered. ‘What did she show you?’

  ‘Just the sword.’

  ‘What does it mean?’

  ‘She who guards our family does not speak or explain. I have to follow her meaning as best I can.’

  I paid scant attention apart from that I understood the Norns had woven me a future where I would use my sword. I felt a rush of excitement as I turned Snakebite so her blade reflected the sunlight. Then I looked at my mother. Tears rolled down her face.

  ‘You don’t understand,’ she whispered to me. ‘You don’t know what it’s like. All that killing, it’s…’ She was interrupted by the sound of a horn announcing the arrival of my husband-to-be.

  Hauk arrived, dressed in an embroidered tunic and a fur-lined cloak, riding a grey stallion and accompanied by his brother, two karls, two servants and a thrall. As he drew close he flicked open his cloak so the gold around his neck and the silver on his buckles and weapons would catch the light. He was an impressive sight but all his finery could not hide the fact that one eye was closed by an ugly, red scar.

  ‘He has a proud bearing and looks are not everything.’ My mother wiped her tears and regained her composure. She took my hand and led me forward to show off my new pleated linen dress and the rich brooches holding my red pinafore together. She seemed proud to show me to Hauk and his retinue.

  As Hauk dismounted, the wounded side of his face was turned to me. The damaged eye had a dead, unwavering stare. I recoiled. My mother put a steadying hand on my elbow.

  ‘There now, allow him time,’ she whispered.


  Hauk came across to exchange greetings with my parents. He had the habit of turning his good eye to the person he spoke to so he could see them more clearly. I had never really looked at the undamaged side of his face, a straight nose, a strong chin and his mouth smiled with white teeth. I realised he must have been a handsome man before a Scottish raider slashed his face.

  ‘Sigrid Kveldulfsdaughter I wish to marry you. May I speak to your father on this matter?’ His good eye seemed to bore inside my clothing and touch my bare skin. It made me uneasy but, at the same time, I felt a little excited. I knew he liked me. Maybe my mother was right and I would learn to like him, given time. It would serve Ragnar right for his lack of faith. I gave Hauk my hand and managed to keep my voice steady as I spoke my consent. Then Hauk turned aside to greet Thorstein and Steinar. I saw the ugly side of his face again and shuddered.

  Hauk and my father went inside to discuss terms. I knew the negotiations would follow the traditional pattern:

  ‘I shall lose a good pair of hands,’ my father would say, ‘someone else will need to cook and weave and tend the fields.’ Hauk would argue about the cost to keep me and any children we might have. But even I realised there couldn’t be much to haggle about, since my children would inherit Becklund as well as Swanhill.

  So the bride-price was decided. I was to be replaced by a thrallgirl, ten fleeces of best quality wool and twenty silver pennies. My dowry consisted of linen, wool and furs, my jewellery, a set of drinking horns inlaid with silver, a tapestry measuring three ells with pictures of men and horses. It was all mine to use as I pleased for myself and my children. More important to me, but not mentioned in the agreement, was that I also brought Snakebite, a shield and a helmet.