Weeks after their departure, the ships led by Ivar and Sigurd Ragnarsson finally saw the coast of England. It was a scene like no other. It was almost magical to see a new land come out of the mist, there but not there at the same time. It was almost unreachable, a pipe dream, beautiful and dazzling; and as cliffs and sandy shore appeared in front of her eyes, Siggy marveled. It was everything she ever wanted and there she was. Finally.
Angrboda gave her a look full of tenderness and kissed the top of her head. They were there. At last they were there. Siggy would fight and Angrboda would heal. They were there; the beginning of their fate; of the thread of their destinies and who they were born to be.
The ships ploughed into the mouth of a large river and rowed for a while, crossing forests and hills and lonely farms; and a few hours later, found a perfect spot to settle. Men and women unloaded the ships, went to fetch some wood to build tables, chairs and lit fires while some mounted the tents, put horses in runs and thick furs on beds made of straw. When the sun set behind the horizon, the camp was already protected by a wall of pikes, the tents were all mounted and the first fires were lit to broth soup and other kind of food, not that it was as elaborate as in Kattegat; in time of war, little time could be dedicated to food making.
Ivar had been overseeing the settlment from a high chair while Sigurd had worked on blades and seen if they were sharp enough to cut a man in half. He had trained and seethed insults towards his little brother who had later thrown axes at him he had dodged with his shield. It seemed that quarelling with his brothers gave him more training – much to Angrboda's annoyance - and often, Siggy yelled at Ivar who merely grinned at them, judging that an unsoft Sig was something rare enough to enjoy.
At night, the sounds were so different from what Siggy had heard back in Kattegat. It seemed that there was more and a variety of them she never heard. The smell itself was different; it was no longer the smell of rain, pine trees and moss, but the smell of grass, river, fertile soil, oaks and rain on ferns; it was the smell of a land full with opportunities and resources. Siggy opened her eyes in the dark and grinned as she thought of her freedom. She turned to Angrboda's sleeping face beside her and marveled at how tranquil she was and at how beautiful she was.
"I will protect you." she murmured.
"And I shall return the favor, Sig." Angrboda replied with a smile.
Siggy gasped with surprise, then chuckled. Angrboda, like herself could hardly sleep with so many sounds to hear and Siggy gently took her hand in hers. And both fell asleep, like they used to when they were younger and Siggy was just a child of the wilds.
The next day began with training and tydying the camp. Siggy trained with Gye Torsteindottir and although the woman was strong and had large muscles, Siggy managed to prevail upon her, not without bruises which led Angrboda to a near stroke. Gye was strong and her blows damaged the shield Siggy was wielding and with a punch, she made her opponent bleed and Siggy was certain her nose had been broken. Gye was an experienced warrior and Siggy hoped not to cross her path on a bad day.
Gye was tall and buff and so unlike her half-brother; like Siggy she had long blonde hair testifying of her status, and like Siggy, she was covered with scars, some on her nose and some on her cheeks. Gye was taller than even a Jotunn and if she did not know her, Siggy would have been terrified of her. Gye was a wonder of muscle and strength and Siggy marveled at her body in motion. Gye was a war machine; she has been born for the raid and, often, she proved it.
Siggy let herself fall beside Gye and gave a laugh as she wiped sweat off her face. "You are good, Gye,"
"You are good too. You will be a valuable ally in the shieldwall."
"Your strength... It is fascinating. Tell me, is your brother like that? Should we worry?"
"This arsehole is no better than me at fighting. I almost tear an ear from his head with my teeth once, when he insulted my mother. He may have Bjorn's favours, but I have strength to rely on. I will forge my path and carve a status for myself with my fists and nails if I have to, but I shall do that on my own. I do not want to owe anyone anything." Gye seethed. "I wouldn't worry about him if I were you. I did not tell him anything about you as I ignored you were part of the journey and with Winter coming, I doubt Bjorn will come to get you any moment."
"Good. Because I do not want marriage with Rognvald. If I ever marry him, I will have to kill him."
"Not that Guthrum won't do it anyway."
Siggy gave a bitter laugh. "You don't know him like I do. Guthrum, no matter how he claims he hate the Ironside, is afraid of him. He won't do anything if he does not secure a backup plan. He is careful, my Guthrum. And one day, maybe, I hope he can ask my hand freely. Being married to him would suit me."
"He is the son of Jarl Borg. You know... I am not certain we can trust him. After all, his father once tried to take Kattegat and Jelling, he has treachery in his blood."
Siggy kept silent and looked at Sigurd sitting near Ivar under the main tent. "Perhaps..."
"My father fought against him, Siggy. I am not sure I can forget that."
"You care about a man you never knew."
"That is true. He made me and my mother suffer and abandonned us; and because of him, my mother and this other whore grew a cold hatred they passed on Horek and I, but, Siggy, I am not sure I want to resent him forever. At one point, I have to let go and consider myself more as my own creation than my genitors'. I want to love my father and believe in those stories they tell of him; of his bravery and how loyal he was to Ragnar Lothbrok. That is what I want from him; I want his loyalty. That is why I have trouble trusting Guthrum."
"Can you trust me, though? I may have Ragnar's blood in my veins but by no means am I of his family. I loathe everything that connects me to them unless we are talking about Sigurd and Ubbe. I only seek their demise, one fated day. Can you trust me in spite of this?"
Gye's eyes grew darker and she looked down. "You are loyal to Sigurd. That is more than enough for me. You and I are comrades on the battlefield and I trust you to kill our enemies and have my back. That is enough."
Siggy nodded, satisfied with the answer. She did not expect Gye to like her, she only expected to marvel at her strength and fight alongside her. She knew of Gye's distrust of hers and she knew they maybe would never be friends for their views were drastically different on certain matters; Gye admired Lagertha and had been close to Aslaug once, while Siggy loathed them both and while Gye was loyal to power, Siggy wasn't and would betray whoever would stand in the way of her satisfaction. But on the battlefield, all that mattered was victory and survival and Siggy knew she could trust Gye on that.
Someone cleared one's throat behind them and Siggy turned to see Angrboda's radiant face, smiling to both women.
"Boda!" Siggy exclaimed with joy.
"Siggy, you are wanted in the main tent. Sigurd requested your presence. And Gye, I will have to inspect your bruises and cuts later."
"What about mine?" Siggy asked.
"You can choke." Angrboda coldly said. "Get your ass to the main tent, now."
Siggy gave a laugh and stood up to head towards her uncle and the leaders of this small army they brought from Kattegat to Northumbria.
"Siggy." Gye called.
"Hm?" Siggy stopped of a sudden and turned to her interlocutor.
"If you ever go against my loyalty, you're dead." Gye said.
Siggy grinned. "Then do your best."
Gye returned the grin and stood up while Siggy went to sit among her uncles and the other leaders of the army; some, sons of imporant jarls of Gotaland, Skaane or Juteland, who joined the two youngest sons of Ragnar in a quest that would bring them land, riches and fame. Many of them were last sons and unlikely to inherit of anything back home, which strengthened their will to prevail against Saxon forces and conquer a fertile land.
"Ah, Siggy!" Sigurd said, smiling at her with glowing joy. "Glad you are here, at last."
Ivar rolled his eyes and gave his niece a cold grin to which she answered with cold eyes.
"Thank the gods you are here, Ivar would have killed me first thing I would have said." Sigurd whispered.
"If he tries something, I'll prove him how unsoft I am, Sig. And he will be unrecognizable to the gods themselves." the shieldmaiden whispered back.
"Enough of civilities," Ivar hissed. "We have a war to fight and a plan to make."
"Ivar is eager to fight, I see. If even a legless man like him is given Tyr's blessing then, surely, victory is ahead of us." one of the men gathered around the table said.
"Eystein is right!" a man named Leif said, raising his cup.
"But why is a woman sitting at our table, that is something to wonder, especially considering her high beauty she hides beneath filth and mud. What a shame for a diamond to be willingfully tarnished." Eystein purred lustfully looking at Siggy.
"Can Sigurd Ragnarsson explains it?" asked Leif, turning to the concerned party.
"Siggy is as much a warrior as I am. She is as strong as Gye Torsteindottir, daughter of Bjorn Ironside." Siggy growled as Sigurd declaimed his words. "The blood of Ragnar flows in her veins as well as Lagertha's. She is a grand-daughter and daughter of shieldmaiden and shieldmaiden herself who fought greater opponents than her or even the mighty Lagertha. I trust Brynhildr, the valkyrie, passed strength onto her. She is your superior in blood, my second in command and I trust her."
"As for my high beauty, as you call it," growled Siggy. "I do not think it matters on the battlefield. Beauty is nothing. I can be ugly for all I care but I shall not be weak. If you want to fully realize my worth, then fight me and I shall bear your head on my belt!" she spat.
Ivar gave a cold chuckle, amused by the scene and the fierceness of Siggy whose eyes shot fire and thunder and were more frightening than death itself; so cold and full with anger. Had Siggy beheaded a man in front of him, he would have been pleased and laughed and rejoiced of carnage. But alas, she did not and Ivar cursed her tempest that never came.
"Now that you have been informed of the reasons behind her presence," said Ivar to a pale Leif and a blanch Eystein. "perhaps will you let us discuss of a plan to conquer Northumbria and secure what we have come to conquer."
"What do you suggest, Ivar?" Sigurd asked.
Ivar rolled his eyes again and shot a glare towards Sigurd who sipped his ale with contempt. Being asked what to do by his older brother strangely annoyed him.
"Ubbe and Hvitty are in Wessex as of right now, fighting against king Aethelwulf and king Aelle who came to the aid of his son-in-law upon his daughter's plea, or so my spies told. At the moment, my ambitions lies in England and I desire to conquer the whole of it."
"Then, why are we not in Wessex?" asked Leif hesitantly.
"Because, and it pains me to admit it, Sigurd was right to aim for Northumbria. It fits the moment." said Ivar with pain, as if words were ripped out of his mouth through sizzling knives.
Sigurd chuckled silently, mocking and merciless towards Ivar whose hand came close to his axe. But one look of Siggy and he gave a cold apologetic smile before his hand dropped.
"Aelle is away with the vast majority of his army. He never expected an attack. I sent words to our brothers, south, to keep the kings busy while we seize Northumbria, or at least, part of it. We need strongholds to hold to keep our presence in those lands. We need raids and conquest. And as long as the army is busy elsewhere, we have all he chances to conquer Northumbria."
"Not enough." muttered Sigurd.
Ivar's eyes grew dark. "What?" he growled. "What did you just say?"
"I said, that is will not be enough, Ivar." Sigurd answered with the same anger. "You know how to conquer, fine! But we need to keep the power! We need to have the support of Aelle's nobles! We need peace as much as we need steel."
"I agree with Sigurd." said Eystein.
"Then, what do you suggest?" Ivar coldly asked, motionning his hand to his brother.
"We stick to your plan. We raid; spread terror across the land. We fight and conquer and decimate half of the remaining army here. And when your thirst for Saxon blood is quenched, we stop, and meet with the true masters here. We ask for their loyalty and if they ever betray us, you kill them the way you see fit." said Sigurd with rage. "Would that suit you, brother?"
Ivar forced out a doleful agreeing face and turned his head away. "Perhaps." he growled.
"Good. Then, do we have a plan?" asked Sigurd.
"Aye." said the men around the table but Ivar.
"Yes." said Siggy.
"Good. Then, let's eat, I am hungry. First raid will happen tonight. Siggy, you will be among the warriors to fight." Sigurd said standing up.
Siggy opened her mouth and smiled. She looked over the chieftains' defiant faces, judging that an inexperienced woman was something to avoid on the battlefield. Siggy could hear their whispers and how they talked about her. Too dirty or too beautiful; too young or too strong; woman or warrior, if there was something they agreed on it was uncertainty about her talent at battle. And Eystein who couldn't get his eyes off her, licking his lips. Siggy could picture his thought so vividly she considered dwelling into the sea never to feel so filthy again.
"Sigurd!" she called, running after her uncle.
"What?" ased Sigurd, stopping to let her get to where he was standing.
"Why was I here sitting amidst experienced warriors and chieftains?" asked Siggy.
"Because you are a chieftain of mine, Sig."
"Gye is better than me."
"Perhaps, but you are my family and as such, your ranks allows you to be the leader of shieldmaidens."
"I am unexperienced."
"On battlefield, yes. But I know for sure than you are smater and stronger than most of the men here. You're going to be fine."
"And if I lose warriors?"
"Don't."
"I am not a leader, uncle Sigurd."
Sigurd flinched at the name. "I am your leader and as such I tell you what to do and here's what you're going to do: you are going to lead those women in battle and you are going to win. No defeats, no loss. Those will only be a few raids to forge your battle spirit; 'tis not yet a great battle. You will have to fight in a lot of raids before you know the thrill of an army riding upon you."
"Sig..."
"Do not disobey my orders, Siggy. The gods knows I bear with enough of your behavior at home, but here, I command you."
Siggy's face grew hard. "What will you tell Gye?"
"Gye will respect my decision. I am her commander. We'll see what you're worth as a leader tonight."
"As you command." said Siggy. "Uncle Sigurd." she added with a wink.
Sigurd shivered and Siggy laughed. Teasing him would forever be her favorite game and he was always a delight a scene. Under his gaze, she trotted to Angrboda's tent from which Gye walked out. The tall and buff woman gave her a hard look which softened as she saw Sigurd and she walked towards him while Siggy entered the tent, peering at Gye, who she never saw that moved.
"Seems like Gye is not as cold as she wishes to appear." said Siggy with a smiling voice.
"She has a tender heart." said Angrboda as she tidied her healing tent.
"Like you." whispered Siggy, taking her friend's hand in hers.
Angrboda gave a warm smile. "Only when you are safe. When you are not, dark spirits takes me; spirits of wrath, like my father loves them."
"Then, I dread your fury tonight." Siggy sat on a stool. "Sigurd wants me to lead shieldmaidens on a raid tonight and Eystein is said to be part of this endeavour."
"That is what you desire; to fight and spread fury. I do not want to go against your desires and cage you against your will. You are free to do whatever you please, but if I must command you one thing, that is this: come back alive and whole. I will yell for bruises and cuts, but I will die for death and missing limbs." Angrboda's eyes suddenly watered the grass.
"Boda," Siggy took her other hand in hers. "All will be well. You know me, my Boda, I always survive. My thread has not yet ended."
"There are things you don't tell me."
"You read me like no one else. Yes, there are things I don't tell you. But you are better off ignoring them."
"Sig, this does not help me." begged Angrboda.
"I know." Siggy gently wiped off Angrboda's tears with her thumbs. "But, for now, trust me as I cannot fully trust myself."
"I'll yell at you tonight."
"Sounds great." Siggy smiled.
Then, she took her friend in a warm embrace and there, they stayed for a moment out of time and space, to savor precious moment and little girls' love.
When Siggy left, when night started to fall, Angrboda made an intense effort not to weep; for she had seen what raids brought to men, she had gone with Ivar and Sigurd on too many raids and healed too many warriors not to see the outcome of battles. She feared for Siggy and also for Gye. She feared for their safety and could not help picturing her future without her, so dull and miserable and full of pain a hundred time worse than her aching heart. It was hard mourning an alive friend. It was even harder when that said friend was a sister to her.
The long line of warriors crossed a hollow forest towards a village nearby, walled and asleep, not knowing of the dread that was about to srike upon them. A sentinel was watching over the gates and Eystein turned to Siggy.
"So, pretty face, what are we to do?" he asked.
"Gye." called Siggy. "That man, kill him. There will be other men in the village. They are in constant fear of an attack since the first raids in England so I suggest we enter the village quietly and then, we gather all the guards in the same place and we slaughter them. What do you say?"
"Agreed." whispered Gye.
"And Eystein," said Siggy with a sudden cold and harsh voice. "My tolerance to violence has its limits and if any of your men is seen dick thrusted in a Saxon woman, I'll have him killed and I'll bath in his blood. Is that clear?" she seethed.
"Whatever!" shrugged Eystein. "Saxon women aren't worth ours, beautiful. I'd rather fuck you than them."
"I'm going to kill him, I swear." raged Siggy for herself. "Alright, go. Go!"
And they started to move like the beasts they were, to slaughter and spread terror; to rob and take slaves; to a most unfair battle that would bring them no glory if not the promise of a greater battle ahead and Valhala at the end of the road.
Gye was the first to strike. With her axe, she opened the sentinel's skull with a disgusting crack, then, struck his chest. The man fell on the ground, to water it with pieces of guts, brain and blood pouring from open wounds. Then, began the game.
The attackers quietly invaded the village, made sounds and misled guards towards the centre of the village. The ones that realized what was happening and tried to fight? They were mercilessly killed, without a sound. After an hour or so, all men were gathered together, waiting, scared and brisk, looking around and panicked.
Then, they came; out of their shadows, wielding shields and axes, determined to win against a few warriors. They formed a circle around the soldiers and then, they attacked.
It was a quick fight and both sides were full with rage and determination. The Saxons struck the shields as hard as they could, some even ripped off wood and leather, cut deep in flesh and arms, distabilized men and women and roared in their tongue that their God would grant them victory. The raiders roared back, shouting Tyr, Thor and Freya's names, opening skulls and chests with axes, piercing limbs with spears, slashing bodies with swords. Within a few minutes, the ground grew red.
It was carnage.
Siggy worked her hand around the leather of her shield, not to lose it and gripped the pommel of that sword Sigurd had made her long ago, and she fought. She laughed as blood spattered on her face and grinned as she saw how fearful men were of her. With rage, violence and savagery, she reduced a man's body to a gaping wound, unrecognizable by his god and she severed another's arm before she dodged a blow by what seemed to be the strongest of them all. She sparred with him with all her strength, striking hard and loud. He got to cut her and give her a few bruises, but she managed to slaughter the man, while beheading another with a blow of her axe.
When she looked at Gye, she was done with one of the guards and she violently twisted his neck and he died in a crack. Her fists were red with blood; she had a swollen eye, a few cuts and bruises, but nothing she couldn't overcome with Angrboda's help.
And when she looked at herself, she saw nothing but blood. She was certain of many cuts and wounds on her face, but what troubled her was the weird angle her arm made and it was only when she noticed it she realized how much she suffered from it.
"Shit!" she cursed, griding her teeth out of pain. "She's gonna kill me!"
But it was not yet time to savor victory, for the raid was not over. The first screams came from a woman, witnessing the massacre, awoken by the raging battle. The raiders ran towards the houses, burned to the ground churches, robbed supplies and food, stole riches, killed whoever dared to resist them and took prisoners to sell as slaves. It was all fire, blood and tears; screams of terror and howls of agony.
It was an entire different reality than what Siggy expected. Where was the glory the men told about when they spoke about raids? Where was fairness and honor? Certainly not there. But war is cruel and such was its law; war was cruel and the most unfair battles could be justified.
A man fell beside her, struck by an axe, and a few women were chained nearby. A girl called for her mother before she was shot by an arrow and a little boy was hiding, all crouched under a cart while squalls of terror echoed amidst burning houses. The whole village was reduced to shreds of its former life.
Siggy, with a single blow of her axe, as her broken arm was dangling beside her, slit a man's throat and kept blustering, dicarding her pain that did far from dwindle. She bit and punched and twisted necks, not seeing anything but places to strike and enemies to kill. Her instincts were blood and rage and violence and in those arts, she excelled. Even with one arm, she was a dread.
The smell of burning flesh and guts and blood and shit was suffocating and the sizzling pangs of her arm almost stifled her. Her heart was aching and she felt so dizzy she believed she would pass out on this disloyal battlefield.
But then, some screams coming from one of the house drew her to enter and witness such a scene she saw red and wanted to set the whole world ablaze, the sea with it. One of Eystein's men was there, half naked, choking a saxon woman who he had undressed while he thrusted his cock inside of her, wetting it with his spit, wetting her through her clit. He violently banged her while she tempested and punched him, cursed and begged for mercy and for her life to end, dishonored forever. Lit by red fire outside, this scene seeped deep into Siggy's heart, piercing it like a thousand arrows while her rage intensified as if Fenrir had been freed from his chains.
With a raging roar, she struck the man in the back with her axe, pulled him backwards, freeing the woman who hastily stepped back to her bed and watched as Siggy turned him around, her axe, covered with his blood, to hoist him on the table, almost hurling with the suffering of her doleful arm. The man tried to resist, but the shieldmaiden removed his helmet only to break his skull with it.
"You are not worthy of my sword." Siggy seethed.
And with her long knife, she beheaded him under his screams, pleas for mercy and curses. But Siggy didn't care; and she grinned with satisfaction as his blood poured down the earth, to rot there and to curse the very place of his malevolent actions. And she held his head to look at this trophy she tied to her belt, covering herself with the rapist's blood.
Then, she turned to the saxon woman and her face softened. She knelt in front of her and wiped out her tears. The woman moved away, as bitten by a serpent, weeping and begging for death to come.
"I do not abide by this." said Siggy in her own tongue as she sheathed her long knife and unsheathed her sword just in case.
"Kill me." sobbed the saxon woman. "Kill me like you killed my son and husband."
"I don't understa..."
But suddenly, the woman held Siggy's shoulders only to throw herself on her blade and die as her final plea died on her lips.
And Siggy watched her die, that woman; and she swore revenge on Eystein for his deceit; and, raging against men and the world they ruled, she walked outside with a last look at that woman who took her own life, headed towards her victorious kin, amidsts goods and slaves. She untied the head from her belt and brandished it in the air for all eyes to see and spoke with a loud voice full of fury:
"Hear me out you treacherous pigs!" she screamed. "Hear me out and witness what happens when my orders are disobeyed!"
Every raiders turned to her and the scene of a young woman, holding a severed head by the hair. Agape, they saw, and aghast, they heard. Gye frowned and Eystein blanched.
"This man," Siggy threw the head at Eystein's feet. "Was caught, raping a saxon woman just as I ordered not to. He disobeyed my orders and yours and behaved in pure dishonesty. So I punished him. This is what happens when you do not abide by my commands."
"Sigurd will hear about this, beauty." Eystein warned, as he approached her, recovered from his fright.
"Tell him, then. Sigurd and I share the same beliefs. I have no doubt he will approve of me."
"And Ivar?" asked another warrior.
"Ivar can choke! He can fight me for all I care, but I did what I know is right!"
"I stand by her." Gye said.
"Very well, then." said Eystein. "For the death of a man, pay the weregild and this will be over."
Siggy nodded with satisfaction. She noticed a golden goblet on the ground and took it. She briefly conisdered it before she handed it to Eystein.
"The weregild." she said. "For a dishonest pig, that will be more than enough."
And with those words, she walked away, beckoned her warriors to follow her, while Eystein stood there, half amused, half furious, judging that, perhaps, this little woman would provide good children.
Back in the camp, Siggy faced a much greater opponent; someone to be feared and who she feared: an angry Angrboda. At the sight of her arm, her face grew cold and dark and her eyes seemed to throw daggers. Siggy laughed and embraced her friend who pinched her ear lobe and dragged her towards their tent under the laughter of most of the warrior. As she healed her wounds, cleaned her cuts and put back her broken bones in place with sticks and clothes – not without a great deal of pain – Angrboda kept silent, and Siggy swore she heard her sobbing.
Siggy told her everything that happened, meanwhile. She told her of the battle, of how unfair she thought raids and how dishonorable this victory had been; she told her of the men she killed, of the raped saxon woman and of how she killed one of Eystein's men.
"Good." muttered Angrboda.
"I am sorry you were so worried." said Siggy.
"You are here, now. All is well."
And Angrboda gave a smile, one of the most kind and compassionate.
Her smile faded as Sigurd entered the tent and Angrboda turned to him with a smile. He was all sleepy and rushed to see his niece who, he had been taught, came back covered with blood. He stood there for a moment, all silent and panting and when he saw she was fine, he sighed.
"Gye told me." he said.
"Everything?" asked Siggy with a sudden fear.
"From the beginning to the end and that head you cut off."
"Is that a problem?" asked Siggy.
"You paid the weregild. I made arrangement with Ivar to secure their loyalty. Incredible how useful his anger can be, channeled the right way. Perhaps a cripple can be of any use, after all..."
"Sigurd." warned Angrboda.
"What?" Sigurd spat, rolling his eyes.
"He is your brother."
"Not by heart! Only by blood and what a blood indeed! A man who abandonned children and kingdom, a coward of a king and a witch of a mother!" Sigurd raged.
"Sig..."
"Eystein's loyalty is secured. Good. But next time one of his men does what I saw that pig do, I'll set them all ablaze to honor Frey." Siggy said, gently touching her pendant representing the god.
"That is the raid." Sigurd said.
"That is dishonorable and unworthy of free men. If you pigs want to prove you are unworthy of the gods' protection, then do it out of my sight or I'll behead you."
Sigurd looked down, visibly ashamed, for once, of a thing he said. "Sleep." he said. "And recover from that broken arm. I do not want a useless shieldmaiden on the battlefield."
"Go fuck yourself!" Siggy spat.
Sigurd gave a laugh. "Take care of her." he said to Angrboda.
"Always." she replied with a tender smile.
Sigurd left the tent and went to sit by the river, melancholy taking him like a sudden wave. Here, alone, he could think and he mostly thought of his future and the future of their quest for revenge. What would happen after Aelle's death? Did he really want to keep Northumbria? What of kings and bloodline and where did he stand amidst all that?
Nobles would come soon to bargain peace, he knew that and Ivar knew that. Northumbria wasn't as united as Wessex and many sought betrayal for their personal gain, but then, if truly the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok were to rule over England, their conquest should at least be permanent, unlike their father who was betrayed and who never achieved anything in England. If they were to erase his mere name from the sagas, then, a permanent rule was the path to take.
Sigurd would have to discuss it later with Ivar, but there were good reasons to divide Northumbria, let nobles in charge of their realm, make Saxons believe they were free to worship their dead god and make them be certain that things never changed. The solution was simple, actually; nobles would become kings under the supervision and rule of the sons of Ragnar. Then, someone needed to stay in England to secure a grip on its realms and that someone, Sigurd wanted it to be him. Nothing awaited him in Kattegat; not a wife, since Magrethe chose Ubbe, not a crown – not that he wanted it anyway. He largely preferred being a skald in Kattegat – not even a mother and certainly not a future.
No. His future dwelled here, in that foreign land. Something in his very core convinced him of it. Something awaited and something was close, oh, so close from him. Was it fate? Perhaps, after all, didn't he go see the Seer before departure? Didn't he promise great things ahead? He spoke in riddles but amidst words, some things were clear; especially for a skald.
But now was not yet the moment to seize what his fate promised. Not with Ivar watching his every moves. Now, they needed to conquer and in truth, Sigurd knew it was a long game; and in that game, Ivar excelled, which only strengthened the menace he was to Sigurd's wishes of peace.
But perhaps, as the Seer told him, Ivar's future rested elsewhere. Perhaps Ivar would go away.
And Sigurd sighed with relief.
Solveig closed her eyes in the forest. It was so different here, so pure and so primal. It was freeing, being away from Kattegat the stifling town; just being here, a human being, free from schemes, politics and betrayals. It almost felt like home.
She had been walking for about an hour in the forest, finding comfort in sounds of birds singing, of waterfalls filling the fjord far from where she was, from silence and peace. It was as if she was walking to see Thorunn back in the village. She barely fought these past months and she was certain her teacher would be disappointed with her. But alas, in Kattegat, no one wanted to teach a foreigner their secrets.
She suddenly heard a crack and turned to the source of the sound, startled; and breathed as she noticed it was only a woman whose hair fell long and whose eyes were lined with khol.
"Sorry I frightened you." the woman said.
"That's alright." Solveig said, smiling. "That seems heavy." she said, pointing at the woman's bag.
"It is. Do you mind helping me?"
"Not at all." she hurried by the woman's side and took the bag on her shoulders. At last! Some replacement for training! "I'm Solveig."
"I am Helga. And if you are wondering why the heavy bag, then it is because my husband asked me to bring some of his tools back to our house." Helga said with a gentle smile. "Floki is a boatbuilder."
"Then he must have a lot of work. From what I saw, Kattegat's ships outdo everything I ever saw."
"Thank you for him."
Helga walked alongside Solveig guiding her into the woods to her strangely shaped house, so odd for a boatbuilder, as an overturned keel. There wasn't any need of words between the two women to create a connection; the simple pleasure of being away from Kattegat was enough. And although they hardly spoke, they arrived, panting and sweating to the house.
"Would you like water and food?" asked Helga with kindness.
"That is much to offer. Thank you."
Helga smiled. "Come. I haven't seen anyone but me in this house for a while."
Solveig followed her into the main room of the house and marveled at how it was built. It was so small yet, so comfortable with its small hearth where smouldering embers begged for a log to birth flames; with those four beds covered with furs and those flowers and herbs drying on the walls; with the cauldrons and pile of unfinished carving works and with colored glass and jewels spattered around the house. It clearly testified of a strong feminine presence and Solveig deduced that Helga's husband was not the kind to spend much time home. And yet, in Helga's voice, when she spoke of him, one could tell she loved him. There was a devotion impossible to miss.
Helga poured some water in a goblet and handed it to her young guest, then went to cut slices of bread from a loaf and smeared honey on it.
"Here." she said, giving it to Solveig.
"Thank you." Solveig smiled. "Do you and your husband live alone?"
"At the moment, yes." Helga said with sudden distant eyes. "We have a daughter. But she went raiding with Ivar Ragnarsson. Angrboda."
"Angr..." Solveig almost choked on water.
"Yes, I know." Helga said with sad eyes. "My husband chose that name. I would have rather named her Sigyn. It fits her better. But she is named Angrboda and I can only pray the gods for her name to remain a name and not a dark prophecy."
"Is she a shieldmaiden?" Solveig asked, curious to know more.
"Oh no." Helga dissed the idea with her hand. "Angrboda is a healer. A wonderful one. She knows the way of the plant better than even me or my friend Aslaug. She was an excellent Volva and helped many women give birth. She helped one of the girls living here to come to the world. She helped her mother give birth and I was here. It was one hell of a battle. But Thorunn overcame it with bravery. And her disappearance saddens me. For Siggy and for Bjorn."
Solveig choked on her bread and coughed. So this woman knew Thorunn! So this woman saw Siggy be born!
Helga rushed to her side and gently pat her back. "Are you alright?" she asked.
"Sorry... I... Siggy lives here?"
"She does. But at the moment, we ignore where she is. She disappeared as suddenly as a wanderer." her gaze became sad and cold. "You know Siggy?"
"Only by name. Could you tell me more about her, please?"
Helga looked at her for a moment, hesitant and curious about her guest's interest about that girl her daughter forced her to shelter. Her gaze broke into a gentle smile.
"Siggy is my Angrboda's best friend. They almost grew up together and they are very close to Ivar and Sigurd Ragnarsson. Siggy is..." she laughed. "One day, she came back covered with bruises and cuts because she was fighting a boy who insulted her and as soon as Angrboda saw that, Siggy just crouched like a scared kitten. They are quite the pair, those two. My Boda found her inside the dead carcass of a deer, when she was merely a child, eating raw food. Boda pitied her and she managed to tame her and bring her to me. I gave her bread, honey, water and a very good bath. Angrboda adopted her and so did I. Only Floki disapproved, but Angrboda's determination is stronger than anything in this world."
Solveig was agape. "A deer?" she stammered. "What was she doing eating a deer?"
"No one knows. Between her third year and her seventh, no one knows what happened to her. She just disappeared."
"That sounds aweful." Solveig's voice was full of pity.
"It was. But it wasn't as sad as queen Aslaug's regrets, during her last years. She once told me, weeping and drunk that she wished she never stopped watching over her. Her regrets were so strong I felt her on the verge of an abyss." Helga sadly said, recalling that night Aslaug had called her by her side.
"Doesn't she have a family?" asked Solveig.
For a answer, Helga simply gave a sad smile; and Solveig understood. Siggy was alone, and if she had a family, if she had a father and grandmother, then, they did not care about Siggy enough to have welcomed her in their halls. And suddenly Solveig was taken by a wave of affection and gratitude for Helga and for Angrboda; for their kindness and good heart. Not on behalf of Thorunn, but on behalf of herself.
"Thank you." she whispered. "Your daughter and yourself are good women. The gods approves of good women. I hope Frey will protect you and your daughter."
Helga gave a sad smile, gently touching her belly. "Good women aren't always rewarded."
"I am sorry." Solveig mumbled.
"Don't be." Helga gently took Solveig's hand in hers. "It is the gods who decide of fates. Mine lies elsewhere. I trust the Norns and I trust my husband. If fate led me to him, then, everywhere he goes, I will follow. My wishes do not have a lot of importance in the geat tapestry, for I am only a servant of the gods and I trust them." she touched her empty and flat belly again. "This was never meant to happen. Besides, my daughter is already giving me all the joy I need."
"How brave to trust the gods and have such a faith you decide to let yourself go into their arms." Solveig said with admiration.
"We all have our own way to deal with fate. Some choose to seize it, others cannot do anything but endure it, knowing they cannot change it and others, like me, choose to trust it and embrace destiny."
"It is perhaps simpler that way."
"Perhaps... Or crueler. My husband believes the gods are cruels."
"He is wrong."
"Perhaps." Helga smiled.
"You have a fine house. And I wish you a fine life, filled with love and happiness."
"Not too much happiness. I would fatally end up unhappy."
"Those are the words of a wise woman."
"Do you have any parents?" asked Helga.
"Just a brother. Our parents died years ago. An invasion." Solveig recalled that day her family was broken and she gained a sister and a purpose. That day she died and came to the world.
"I am sorry." Helga put a compassionate hand on Solveig's.
"It was long ago. They will forever live in my heart."
"Who raised you and your brother?"
"An old woman, just as wise and generous as you are. Her name is Borghild. In the attack, she lost a husband and children. She was, to us, a mother and grandmother. She knew our parents."
"When you come back to your village, tell her my gratitude. Saving children is important for the future of what we are."
"It will be done." said Solveig as she finished drinking her cup and swallowed the last piece of bread. "Night is starting to fall, I should go back to Kattegat." she stood up. "Farewell, Helga. I do not think I will see you again anytime soon; the storm season is almost here and our ship is sailing away tomorrow morning."
"Farewell, young Solveig. Don't lose yourself into the woods."
"I will try." Solveig chuckled. "I hope you will see your daughter again soon."
Helga gave a happy and warm smile and Solveig returned it before she walked out of the house, towards the forest and that grey, dull and hollow town called Kattegat and who people claimed was the pearl of Jelling.
Guthrum waited in the great hall, watching his mother sitting on her high seat, all full of herself and so weak in her composure. His mother was a bird trying to pass as a queen and in this art, she was far from good. Had she not chosen Bjorn Ironside, son of his father's killer and abuser; had she not married Erlendur, son of Horik, at the source of the feud, Guthrum would have loved his mother. He would have admired her. But how could he admire a woman whose loyalty was against his own blood? How could he admire a woman who cowered behing arrows and never experienced the heat of the fight? How could he live in that hall where his father had been abused. Guthrum's anger smouldered and burned within, unextinguishable and perpetually burning.
His thoughts drifted to Siggy; Siggy, his angry shieldmaiden, this fierce little thing he fell for and whose blood was erased by her resentment towards her own family. Siggy, the beautiful Siggy, forever covered with filth and whose fists were feared by all the boys of Kattegat. He recalled the first time he kissed her, their love-making into the woods and even on Bjorn and Torvi's seats when the hall was empty. He recalled their secret kisses and their secret words, for if Bjorn had known his step-son was fucking his – neglected – daughter, he would have raged although he had no right to. It only made him want Siggy more.
Guthrum loved Siggy. He loved her anger and he loved her voice; and he missed her so terribly. When she wasn't here with him, Kattegat lost its interest and his hatred for the town intensified. Even Siggy longed to leave it. After all, didn't she live into the woods? Didn't she left for England? Guthrum missed her.
And he had come to a decision. And for it, he would have to betray his hatred and his father's memory. Guthrum wanted to be away from Kattegat and he was determined to get what he wanted.
Bjorn suddenly entered the great hall, followed by Horek Torsteinsson, his faithful right hand.
Horek was a tall young man, dark of hair and grey of eyes, not as muscular as his sister, Gye, but just as strong as a bear.
Guthrum twisted his arm ring and watched as Bjorn – much to his disgust – kissed his mother and sat on his high chair.
"Guthrum would like to ask you a favour." Torvi said to Bjorn.
"What is it?" Bjorn asked with a visible annoyance.
"May I speak?" asked Guthrum.
Bjorn opened his hand and waved it as to give him permission.
"I want to got to England with a fleet on my own and help to the conquest of Northumbria, and, perhaps, partake in the vengeance for Ragnar's death."
Bjorn grinned. "You know you don't want to avenge him. Why the lies?"
Guthrum grinned back. "It is true. I have no interest avenging him. But I have interests raiding and conquering. My father was once denied of this, will you, like your father, deny the son?"
Bjorn stroked his beard, thinking about what Guthrum asked. "You are Borg's heir and as such you have lands to take care of. What of Gotaland and what of your birthright? Now that you are in age to seize it, why not leave Kattegat and go there to administrate what is yours?"
Torvi gave Bjorn a shocked look. Guthrum away from Kattegat would be far too dangerous, unpredictable as he was. He could raise an army and march to Kattegat and she just became used to the place.
"My mother is capable, I believe, to oversee my earldom for me. After all, isn't it what mothers do? Ruling in their son's place?" he added a sarcastic grin for the emphasis.
Bjorn gave a cold scowl.
"Will you agree, then, to let me go to England and lead an army?"
"Bjorn." Torvi pleaded.
"If I agree, it is under certain conditions. First, Horek will be of the journey and will inform me of everything happening in England. Second, as Ubbe and Hvitserk already have a strong army in Wessex and Sigurd and Ivar left with only a few ships, you will go to Northumbria. And last, but not least, you will swear alliegeance to them and swear never to betray them, or me. I am mending a broken family, Guthrum, understand this. A united family is what will grant us riches and wealth and I owe it to my father." Bjorn gripped his arm-rests. "Upon your agreement, I will grant you ten ships and Horek, three."
"Will you raid again?" Torvi asked.
"Perhaps, but I have yet to secure an alliance with Rognvald and for that, I need Siggy. I need his ships to conquer England and avenge my father. Then, I will sail South, to that fate the Seer told me of."
"And what if you cannot find her?" Torvi asked again, her voice, harsher.
"I will find her. And she will marry. By the gods I swear it!" Bjorn turned to Guthrum. "I will make arrangements for your departure. You may need to go to Seeland and Hedeby gather a few of those ships I promised, but it will be arranged. I will send a message to my mother tonight."
Guthrum gave a scowl at the name of Lagertha. The great queen. The great queen who promised to take care of him but chose to raid instead. The woman who once fought his own father. That ageless woman who retreated in her hall in Hedeby.
"What of the kingdom if you raid?" asked Torvi.
"Then, you will rule it. And if you refuse, then, it will be Lagertha who will rule it."
But everyone in the room, from king to slaves, knew how wrong the assesment was; everyone knew Bjorn was a puppet to his mother, the great conqueror. And if Bjorn had not been a renowned and fearsome warrior, many would have tried to conquer Kattegat. It was only fitting for a Ragnarsson to sit in his father's place, but it was odd to realize the true power laid elsewhere.
"Then, Guthrum. Do you accept my terms?"asked Bjorn.
"I accept." Guthrum said, not without planning to dispose of Horek. He did not want his presence anywhere near him and Siggy.
"Good. Then, swear on this arm ring and the gods that you won't betray me."
"By my arm ring, by the gods," he looked at his mother and gave a cruel grin "And by my blood, I swear never to betray you."
Bjorn gave a satisfied nod. "Then it is agreed. Arrangements shall be made."
"May I leave?" Guthrum asked.
"Do as you wish."
And under Torvi's hurt eyes, Horek's severe stance and Bjorn's contempt, he walked out of the room, while his two half-brothers and his half-sister ran into the hall, only to bump into their parents who played and laughed with them, like a happy family.
And for a brief moment, Guthrum wished he was them.
The wind was favorable, gentle and the sea seemed welcoming enough not to take ships in her cold embrace. It blew North, a reminder of the season to come and Ran wasn't awake yet.
Solveig savored the wind in her red hair and the ocean's spray on her skin. She held her brother's hand and drew him to her arms in a warm embrace.
"Argh! Stop." he protested.
Solveig laughed at his outrage and at how he tried to struggled in her arms. Always a delight to annoy.
"Soon, we'll see Thorunn again." she said.
Siegfried blushed. "Yes." he mumbled.
"I cannot wait." she breathed.
And without further ado, the boat started moving on the water, as slaves and free men rowed towards this independent village, in Jarnberaland, North of Uppsala, where the weather was colder and harsher and where dwelt the gods.
Solveig turned and watched as Kattegat disappeared in sea spray, like a fading memory, like one of those we choose to forget because they grant us no joy. She discarded her memories of that dull place where so many had suffered and still suffered in spite of its prosperity; of those new colors she saw, of the smells and sounds, so rich, too rich, for a young woman who was used to peace, to woods and small villages where everyone knew their neighbor. She released her breath and turned forward; to the sea and to her land; and with a radiant smile, she whispered, as a charm of some sort:
"We're coming home."
Okay so FYI I cried when I finished this chapter (more like, this JUGGERNAUT!) because it was like... SO LONG! And I couldn't see the end of it. It is 8,500 words long or so and I am just so tired! But just know that I have written longer chapters than that for Crashing Waves, so it is not that bad. In this chapter many characters are having daddy issues and ISTG I should have titled this fic: Everything's changing and everyone's having daddy issues! Just for fun! I hope you enjoyed most of this chapter (there's at least one part many of you might not have liked) and that you're having fun reading so far, because I have SO MANY THINGS planned for Sig, Sol and Boda! This is only the first act of an - already - long story.
Oh and for a better understanding of timelines etc... This fic is happening a two years after s4b and I changed a lot of elements, such as the daughters NOT DYING and in my next chapter Imma try and give Lagertha more sense. That will be great guys!