Chapter Three
She was sick for three days after the spell. Weighed down with bear skin blankets and dark dreams she cried out for Bjorn, soaked in sweat, thrashing on her bed. Her younger brothers held her hand and patted her head. They wiped her brow and told her stories about their day. Aslaug stood in the corner of the room, arms crossed, features expressing a mixture of annoyance and concern. Gyda also called for Ragnar Lothbrok during the sickness, but he was gone, searching for her brother. The lines of reality and fiction were blurred, and Gyda wondered if she still floated in the other realm, her nightmares portraying the real world. She hoped it was just the fever.
On the third night of her sickness, a heavy snow had bloomed into a blizzard, causing the Hall to creak and groan with the weight of the wind. The boys huddled next to the fireplace in the main hall. Gyda could hear their excited voices arguing over which god was angry with them to cause such weather. They made up stories about ice monsters and a snow serpent that attacked Kattegat. She grinned wearily at their squeals and laughter. It warmed her heart and for the first time in three days she felt clear headed. The girl sighed with closed lids, eyes too heavy to stay open.
Gyda was surprised when Aslaug's cool hand rested atop her forearm. The girl did not move as her stepmother pulled out a brush from her skirt pocket and began to gently untangle hair. It surprised her, and for reasons Gyda did not know, she continued to feign sleep. Whatever this was that was happening between them was nice, even if it was confusing.
Aslaug's husky voice spoke in a deep whisper, "I don't know what I'd do without you Gyda. How could I manage your father all on my own? Who would love the boys if something happened to me if you were to go now? You're the only pure heart in Kattegat, there is no one else I trust."
Gyda swallowed heavily, a knot tight in her throat. She wanted to hug Aslaug. She wanted to tell her how she pitied her, hated her, and… loved her. There was too much to say to the woman that stole her mother's husband and that birthed the brothers she loved. Aslaug was a good mother to her sons, but she was a terrible wife and a weak woman. But, here she was, brushing Gyda's hair with such gentleness it made the sick woman want to cry.
"I could not bear for your father to come home and find you gone. The people may call you Angrboda, but I am Ragnar's Angrboda," She kissed Gyda's forehead, her lips cold and dry against her hot and damp flesh.
Gyda shivered with the weight of heartbreak of Aslaug's words. It was genuinely the only thing a wife ever wants of a husband, to be loved.
The front door of the main hall burst open as Aslaug stood, making her stumble to her feet in surprise. Wind howled and carried snow onto the bear rug that decorated the entrance. Ragnar wavered at the door, tipped in frost, lips blue, cheeks red with Bjorn rag-dolled over his shoulder.
"Aslaug, the bed!" He yelled as he rushed forward. Gyda watched as Aslaug scurried out of the room to pull back the covers on Ragnar's bed. The sick girl struggled to raise to her elbows, body trembling. Bjorn was alive. Her father was alive. Sitting up, she slid her bare feet to the floor. The wood beams chilled her toes, a shiver dancing its way up her spine. Gingerly, she stood and on wobbly legs tottered to her father's room.
"Wake Hajr. Get the water boiling. Cover him with these. I've stopped the bleeding, he's just been too cold for too long. But he will live," Ragnar was rambling and the pace at which everyone moved made Gyda's head spin. The days of her illness had been slow and steady, time holding no real format. Coming back to the real world was mind spinning. She clutched the heavy beams of the door frame with white knuckles.
"Gyda, you were right. But he's okay, because you have the sight and you saved him. This time no one dies Gyda. You are a seer – not an Angrboda," Ragnar's eyes were bright, brimming with tears or joy or whatever inner glow he seemed to posses that made people envy and follow him. His icy hands curved around both her cheeks as he cradled her face. She was precious. A seer.
"I'm a seer and Bjorn is not dead?" It was like a dream come true. All her visions had ended in death of someone. The worst was Athelstan. But this time, what she saw changed the future for the good. She sighed in relief, leaning her back against the course wood frame of the room. Her legs wobbled and could bear her weight no longer as she slid down the wall until she was sitting, knees pressed against her breasts.
"What is wrong?" Ragnar questioned, looking down at her with concern and confusion.
Aslaug brushed past him, "She has been ill for three days, she shouldn't even be out of bed. Get up." Her stepmother dragged her to her feet, "I'll take care of her, you go stay with Bjorn. Have Hajr brew him some crysthanmum tea."
Aslaug scolded Gyda for her escape from bed as she half-carried her back. Gyda just smiled.
And as soon as the Seer's head hit the pillow she fell asleep.
The wealthiest merchant in Kattegat sauntered into the main hall the next morning. Ragnar sat on his king's seat with Aslaug next to him. Other's milled in the room, a semi-circle surrounding the throne. They were having a Thing – a moment for all the people to speak and be judged fairly. Ragnar simply facilitated, the public voted. The merchant grinned like a child in a toy shop, slick smile promising something rotten. Lothbrok grimanced, annoyed.
"And what brings Lodis Grajardar to the Hall this morning?" The Jarl, the King asked, his tone light and lilting.
Lodis smirked, "You are looking quite well Ragnar. And your children are doing much better now yes? Bjorn… and Gyda?"
King Ragnar's eyes narrowed, the topic of his oldest offspring turned the subject uneasy, "And why do you bring my children's health to attention at a Thing? What purpose?"
"There are rumors that your daughter is a Seer. For so long she was an Angrboda, because she could only state who would die – it was as if she had killed them by speaking the words, but this time is different. She predicted the future and changed the outcome," The merchant had started the conversation by speaking to Ragnar, but as the words tumbled out he turned to face the crowed in presentation of his findings. It irked the King.
Ragnar stood, claiming attention back to him, "And your point? I could have told you Gyda was not an Angrboda years ago."
Lodis turned in a half circle, hands raised with shrugged shoulders, "Well now we know."
"What is your point merchant?" The king had a temper, and Lodis was making him use it.
"Our own Seer is dying. The sight extended his life, but it has an ending. And that ending is soon. We need a Seer in our village to stay strong, to guide our paths, to steady our arms. Gyda could be that Seer. I suggest she seek out the Seer's Stone, gain control over her sight, and come back ready to serve Kattegat," He raised his voice at the end, the octave signaling a cheer from the crowd. The promise of a Seer to protect their village for another 150 years enticed them.
"No." Ragnar's voice was cold, eyes dark and seething.
The room went dead, all except for Lodis, he was not prepared to back down. He knew what he wanted. A new Seer in Kattegat would bring travel, and travelers were good for business. A Seer was great insurance for a merchant. A Seer was money.
"That is rather selfish of you, fa-ther of the Seer," He dragged out the word father, rolling it off his tongue like daggers tumbling from the hand, "Good thing this is a Thing and not a dictatorship. We will vote on it."
Ragnar slammed his fist on the arm of the elaborate chair, flinging himself from his throne he faced Lodis, nose to nose. In that moment the merchant questioned himself, there was something crazy inside Ragnar that made him want to run away – thankfully for him, his eyes only wavered for a moment.
"I will not give my daughter to the stone. It's price is too heavy-"
"What is it's price?"
Her voice was like porcelain, white and clean. The crowed shifted to watch her walk slowly to face her father and the merchant. The woman's feet were bare and she only wore a night shift. Her hair was tussled and eyes still just a bit foggy for the recent fever. Ragnar could see that her hands trembled even though they were pressed against one another in front of her stomach.
"Tell me."
It was a demand. Ragnar felt tongue-tied. He staggered back.
The merchant floated in front of her, charisma gliding off of him, rolling past her into the crowd, "No one knows the price. It is different for every Seer. The current Seer lost his eyes. His body was disfigured. The stories say that other Seers lost their ears, their voice. One Seer lost her child that grew in the womb. It is a great price, but you won't know until you consult the stone."
Gyda flinched. The cost of visiting with the ancient power source was chokingly high.
"And what exactly does the stone give?"
The merchant smiled, "You will be able to control the sight. It gives certainty, it gives clear vision, it gives timeliness. You will know most answers of the future you pursue. The gods will favor you and speak to you. Wisdom, knowledge, power."
The girl felt young in that moment. All of those things seemed like things she should want. But she didn't. She didn't event want to see the future. She didn't want power. She just wanted to stay in her father's house, taking care of her brothers, hate-loving Aslaug. Her brow furrowed.
"Will it help people?" She questioned.
Lodis's eyes widened in delight, as if the question was the one he had been waiting for, "Help people? Help people? Helping Kattegat and helping your father would be your sole purpose. You would save us from war, famine, death and disaster. You would be praised and loved. You would be high counselor. You. Would. No. Longer. Be. Angrboda."
He said the last sentence softly, like a shepherd coaxing a scared lamb, enunciating each word so that it rang true. But it wasn't quite true. Didn't her father say just last night that she already was no longer Angrboda?
"I see," She replied timidly.
The crowd grew more excited with each of Lodis's words. Ragnar had had enough.
"This is my daughter. She will do as I say," His voice echoed across the hall, making even the strongest Viking shiver with it's power.
But then, a whisper from the back of the room, perhaps from a child. It sounded like Angrboda. Then another voice, louder, that demanded a Seer. The Hall burst into sudden commotion. Fear and anger flew wild, accusations rang, and Gyda stood at the center, trembling. Ragnar roared from his chair and even Aslaug stood behind her father, supporting his words. But if the very idea of her not becoming a Seer caused this type of conflict, she feared what it would do to her family in the long run. She feared what it would do to Kattegat. And she feared what it would do to herself.
Gyda lifted herself onto the chair at the dining table, in hear loudest voice she cried into the chaos, "I will try. I will journey to the Seer's Stone and I will try to gain the knowledge it has to give. Although I am not sure of how to get there or what I am supposed to do when I arrive."
Ragnar's face stared at her from below, a deep sadness crept into his eyes as he gazed. Aslaug turned away, hands gripping the arms of her throne. And the merchant smiled warmly up at her. He reminded Gyda of a fox. The room had stilled, even the babes were soothed into silence. It was said. And now it would be done. The Seer trembled.
And then a man's deep rumble rolled from the back of the hall, he walked forward toward Gyda as he spoke, "I will show you the way and what to do. For I am the only one in Kattegat who knows it."
He reached out his hand toward her, offering to assist her in the small climb down from the chair. Recognition flashed in Gyda's eyes. Surprised, she was once again looking into the face of her father's young viking.
"Asvaldr," She breathed.