Though it was still early afternoon, darkness filled the streets of Kattegat and a dry storm tormented the sky. Such peculiar weather felt like a sign from God. A sign that he was angry with her for trifling with a pagan instead of returning home.
For weeks she'd been blinded by comfort and seduced by selfish happiness. She'd almost started to think she could forgive Rollo, or at least come to terms with the hurt he'd caused. Almost believed he could be her friend. But Rollo wanted a wife and she could not, in good conscience, agree to it.
She could, however, admit he wasn't what she'd expected when he'd first brought her here. He'd surprised her time and time again and she no longer held onto any hared for him. Only disappointment. Because despite all his misdeeds, there was so much good in Rollo.
There were parts of him which made her heart skip a beat. Parts which made her laugh until she couldn't breathe. There were even parts which felt like home.
But no matter how much good she saw in him, the biggest part of Rollo would always be Viking. Even now, he was planning another raid. More people would die, more slaves snatched from their homes. She could never give herself, body and soul, to a man who plundered her homeland so brutally.
So it had been a lie when she said 'yes' to marrying him. Her conscience had to remain at least one land he could not raid without impunity. She owed at least that much to her people, to her family and to God.
Yet as she gathered food and water into a bag, she did it with a heavy heart. She'd been comfortable here, that was without a doubt. But now she must leave. Just as she had always planned.
For so long, she'd promised herself she would only stay until she had a sword of her own. But that wasn't going to happen now and the knife they used for gutting fish would have to do. She was sharpening the blade when Haedde arrived at the door, a sheepish smile on her face.
"I'm here to fit you for your dress, child."
Edithe's heart sank. She hadn't considered who else would know of Rollo's plans but of course other people knew. Everything was already arranged.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked sadly.
"It was not my place and you seemed so happy."
Edithe didn't reply. She didn't want to lie and say she hadn't been, nor would she admit it out loud.
Haedde used her silence as an opportunity to squeeze through the door and into the house where she carefully unpacked an icy blue gown.
"I don't want to try it," Edithe decided, staring forlornly at the cascade of fabric in Haedde's arms.
"But it is a beautiful dress, child and I have worked my fingers to the bone in making it," she lamented, expertly manipulating her.
"Very well," Edithe sighed and Haedde smiled, carefully resting the gown on the table before helping Edithe strip from her clothes.
The material must have cost a small fortune. Far more than she would have ever agreed to if she'd been privy to it's choosing. But within it, she felt like royalty rather than a prisoner and she knew her mother would have loved to see her wearing a dress such as this on her wedding day.
"It's beautiful work, Haedde," she praised wholeheartedly.
"Thank you, Lady," Haedde beamed, inspecting her own handiwork and pinning the dress where it needed taking in. "I never saw my daughter's wedding and I'm certain she would not have worn something as grand as this. But it has been a pleasure to make it for you and it brings me joy to see you in it now."
Edithe smiled, allowing Haedde to unbraid her hair so it could tumble over her shoulders like a true Viking bride.
"How beautiful you will look," she gushed, "a credit to all of Northumbria."
"I do not believe there is a Northumbrian alive who would be pleased to see one of their daughters married to a Northman."
Haedde cradled Edithe's cheeks, "well it pleases me. Having you here has brought me many freedoms and happiness again. It is no burden to serve you, Lady Edithe."
A pang of guilt erupted suddenly in her chest, she hadn't considered Haedde's position. If she left now, what would happen to her? Would Rollo sell her to someone who would treat her unkind? Would he punish her?
"Haedde-" she wanted to ask the old woman to join her escape but stopped herself. She had her own burdens to carry and could not afford more. Besides, Haedde was more likely to tell Rollo of her plans than join them. She couldn't trust her now.
"What is it, child?"
"I'm… nervous." It was true. She was nervous about leaving. But Haedde mistook her words, and her smile was coy as she imagined her nerves were for the wedding.
"I should probably tell you what I know of the ceremony so you might prepare yourself," Haedde suggested, unlacing the gown.
"Perhaps we could talk about this tomorrow?" Edithe replied, wanting to resume her escape rather than sitting and discussing an event which would never occur.
"It's no bother, child. I can tell you while I sew," Haedde smiled, settling herself by the fire with no idea of how futile her efforts were. Or how pointless it was to talk about the bridal headdress, pagan priests and the wedding night…
"You do know what happens on a wedding night, don't you?" Haedde asked, peering curiously at her.
Embarrassment heated her cheeks and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I know what a wife's duty is."
"But…" she smiled now, wickedly so, "do you know you can enjoy laying with your husband?"
Edithe thought of their kiss. The hot, wet press of his lips. The feel of his arms holding her tightly against the hard plains of his body. The way desire had licked across her skin like a flame. Merely thinking about it made her breathless now.
"Do not fret, Lady Edithe," Haedde consoled her, presuming she was upset. "Rollo is always patient and generous with you. Good qualities in a lover as I'm sure you will find out."
Edithe's discomfort in their conversation increased a thousandfold, "please let us stop speaking of such things."
"There's no shame in it," Haedde smirked, her eyes twinkling, "if I was twenty years younger I wouldn't mind having a wedding night with Rollo myself."
"Haedde!"
She chuckled. "Forgive me, child. I do not wish to alarm you, only tease you." She sighed wistfully, "to be young and have so much life and excitement to look forward to is a precious thing. You must enjoy every moment."
"I'm not so sure about that."
"Nonsense, come spring there will be a babe in your arms, I'm certain of it."
Edithe's stomach flipped nervously.
Every moment they spent talking, Haedde's premonition seemed more and more likely to come to fruition. She had no idea how long Rollo would be gone, no idea if she would get a chance to leave tomorrow or the next day. No way of forcing Haedde to leave without raising suspicion.
So for several long hours, her runaway feet endured more wedding talk and much more embarrassment before it grew dark and Haedde finally left.
Ordinarily, Rollo would have returned home by now to eat supper. But he was still absent and she took it as a good sign. He'd said he would give her time alone and it seemed like he'd decided to give her the entire night or at least a large portion of it.
If she left now, nobody would notice her missing for hours. So without further delay, she grabbed her cloak and the bag of supplies she'd managed to hide under a basket. This was it.
Spying through the window at the front of the house she noticed Rolf had taken position as her guard. He often spent his watch sleeping but she wasn't willing to take any unnecessary risks.
So she moved to the window at the back of the house where, for her entire stay, she'd slowly chipped away at the wattle and daub. With her fingernails at first and then Rollo's boyhood axe. It had become a mindless compulsion to entertain her when she was alone. Even on the days when she hadn't really thought of escaping at all.
Rollo never opened his curtains, especially the ones in the bedchamber. But even if he did, he'd hardly notice a change. Only Edithe knew the opening was just big enough for her shoulders and hips to squeeze through. Just as she'd done to escape her house the night of the raid.
The little side street, when she fell onto it, was deserted but she held her breath anyway, clinging to the shadow of the house. She was alone outside for the first time in months and fear tingled along her spine. She could almost feel eyes watching her but shook it off as nothing more than an overactive imagination. Or in other words, paranoia.
Her frequent walks to the meadow had allowed her to memorise a route to avoid the most amount of people. So she was confident in every turn she took. The streets of Kattegat were second nature to her now and, wearing her Viking clothing, she looked like anybody else.
Her hood over her hair, her back straight and her head high. Walking with even paces, not too fast, not too slow. Anyone who saw her was too busy with their own lives to give her a second glance. If they did, she was already gone before they thought anything of it.
Travelling by sea out of Kattegat would be impossible. So at least for now, she would travel by land. A horse would have made it easier but the stables were always guarded. On foot she could make good time if she travelled all night without much rest. Thanks to Rollo's training she was fitter than she'd ever been and not afraid of a long journey.
In record time, she made it to the meadow and the storm which had waned in the afternoon began to return. Lightning flashing brightly across a black sky with the rumble of thunder chasing close behind.
She'd never been afraid of storms before, but every time the thunder cracked, her heart jumped into her throat. And the further she walked across the meadow, the less confident her steps became.
Rollo had never taken her past this point. Nor had he ever really told her what lay beyond the crop of trees she walked towards. Leaving Kattegat was easy. It was what came next which always frightened her. The unknown.
There was no land bridge between Scandinavia and Briton, she knew at least that much. The closest Christian country was thousands of miles away. But not everyone in Norway was a warrior, some were just farmers or traders. Ordinary people. If she could find a trader, she hoped she would be able to travel with them.
Or, perhaps, she thought despondently, she would fall into hands of someone far more brutal than Rollo. The possibility of that plunged fear into every step she took towards freedom.
She was so caught up in fear that she walked clean across the meadow before noticing she was being followed. When she did, she inclined her head to the side, carefully watching the figure stalking her every move.
She could run or she could fight.
Her palm itched against her knife.
Perhaps her journey would end in this field before it had even begun.
She turned, drawing the knife from her belt and was met with a familiar face, a gentle smile and arms raised in surrender. Athelstan.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded, sheathing the knife back into her belt. She would not kill a monk even if he had sold his soul to the heathens.
"I'm stopping you from doing something regrettable, Lady Edithe."
"You should be helping me!" she scolded him.
"By taking you back to Kattegat I will be helping you. It isn't safe out here for a lone woman and you will never make it home."
"You don't know that."
"Even if you could return home. Your family is gone, what would you be returning to? Is it really worth risking your life?" Athelstan may have been a Viking but he still spoke like a priest. His voice was soothing and reasonable even to her stubborn side.
"My family isn't gone! My sister is out there and I must know if she's still alive."
He reconsidered his stance, reflecting on her words, "then all the more reason for you to live. When I return to Briton I can try and send word for her but it would be better for you to ask Rollo. I'm sure he would do anything in his power to please you."
The laugh she forced from her lips was shrill even above the drum of thunder. "Rollo has already murdered my brother. I would no sooner set him on my little sister than a rabid dog."
"Yes, he has killed many people in battle. But surely you see his devotion to you?" he edged towards her, certainty in every word he spoke. "He would not harm your sister."
"What do you know of devotion, priest?" She was angry with him now. Angry he would defend Rollo so easily. But perhaps even more angry that his words had a ring of truth. "You are supposed to be a man of Christ yet you fight against your own people and worship their heathen gods!"
"Odin is good. I cannot hate these Northmen and I have learned to love this land as if it was my own. I feel like you will do the same if you open your heart to it."
"I won't!" she snapped, lying to herself and feeling like a stubborn child in comparison to the gentle ease in which Athelstan spoke.
"You have a wild spirit Edithe, you'll take pleasure from this untamed country as I do."
He was right. There was something about these heathen lands which called to her. But within them, she would never be free like he was. "What about Rollo? How am I supposed to give myself to him?"
"He's the greatest warrior I've ever seen but he is not always a good man. Yet I see a change in him and perhaps that is God's plan for you, Edithe."
She looked up at the forks of lightning, whipping across the sky over Kattegat. She had thought it was a sign for her to leave but maybe it was just a storm. Maybe there were no signs.
"I'm not sure God can see into these lands," she admitted. Her faith had been so strong when she arrived. Like a rope, tethering her to home. Now it was more like a piece of thread which she clung to desperately.
"Then you must help him," Athelstan said, placing a small wooden cross in her hand but she didn't want the responsibility. She wasn't a missionary, she wasn't here to change Rollo or lead him onto a righteous path.
All she wanted was to find Nessie. Although, she couldn't help but wonder, what if Athelstan was right? What if Rollo was the only person in this entire country who would help her?
"Will you stop me from leaving?" she asked and he considered her question thoughtfully.
"No, if you choose to leave, I will turn away and not speak of it to another person. But I feel God has brought you here as he brought me."
If he was forceful with her, she would have fought against him without question. But he was giving her the choice and somehow that consumed her with further uncertainty.
To the tune of more thunder, she gazed back towards Kattegat. Surprised by the sight of flames growing from the skyline like wildflowers.
"Look," she gasped, directing Athelstan's attention to rooftops being consumed in fire.
"I must help," he said, hurrying across the meadow and not once looking back to see her decision.
By now she could smell the smoke drifting on the wind. A fire would buy her more time. If she wanted it.
