Chapter Forty-Three: Tamdrup
Sitting in a bath full of warm, oiled water, Rúna decided that nothing had ever been as luxurious as this. There was a fire going in the hearth of these guest quarters, familiar food waiting for her on the table, and Ivar playing a one-sided game of hnefatafl while he waited for her.
"You're going to turn into a margyr if you spend much longer in that water, Rúna." She couldn't see his face entirely, head bent of the board as it was, but she could hear the smile in his voice. Smiling to herself, Rúna let herself slide lower in the bathtub for a moment. The water was growing cold, anyway.
Rúna pushed herself up from the water and reached for her towel, wrapping it carefully around her torso so that it wouldn't dip into the water. After stepping out, she went straight to the fire so as not to catch chill while drying off. England and Frankia had still retained some warmth, but fall had settled heavily over Norway.
"Are you losing against yourself?" She asked, letting the heat of the fire help dry her damp skin. "Is that why you're so impatient?"
He threw a withering look over his shoulder at her but there was no heat to the ire. Rúna slipped a shift over her head and wrapped a shawl around herself before sitting across from him at the table. She looked over the board, giving Ivar a look of her own when she saw he had left her in a considerably worse position. In response, he smiled innocently at her.
This was why she was hesitant to tell Ivar she may be with child until after they had Kattegat in hand. They had been gone from home for the better part of a year, and in all those months, this was the most at ease Rúna had seen him. If they were going to succeed, they needed Ivar confident. "You're a brat, Budlungr."
"Are you going to start calling me konungr instead, once we have crowns on our heads?" Rúna tipped her head to the side, damp hair tumbling over her shoulder.
"Likely not," she told him with a teasing smile. "Doesn't roll off the tongue like Budlungr does. King Harald seemed in good spirits."
When their boats had fallen on the shores of Tamdrup, they were greeted by King Harald himself—and his new queen. Rúna had given a start at sight of Astrid, a crown atop her dark head, those pale blue eyes watching her face closely. Night had already fallen when they made landfall; King Harald had ushered them into Tamdrup, along with the army, and made quick arrangements for the guests. There had been no time to ask Astrid the pressing questions that filled her throat.
Ivar, ever disinterested in others he considered of no use, hadn't even noticed Astrid standing beside King Harald on the shore. He had greeted Bodil and Gisli, who apparently still held positions of importance in Harald's court despite his marriage, with a wide smile at their shocked faces. Rúna could hardly blame them; Ivar had still been crawling when last they all saw each other, after all.
"Which bodes well for us," Ivar agreed. "Hopefully being a married man will not have settled his penchant for adventure."
So she had been mistaken, Ivar had noticed Astrid. Or, at the very least, had recognized that King Harald had taken a queen. "Perhaps Astrid can convince him to help us take Kattegat if for no other reason that to spurn Lagertha. A nice lover's quarrel, like the stories."
Ivar chuckled at that, lifting himself up and over the board so as not to disrupt their game, and kissed Rúna's lips. "That's rather underhanded of you, Rúna. I think you have spent too much time in Saxon lands."
"Thank the gods we're nearly home, then." She caught Ivar there, a hand on the back of his neck, and kissed him again, much more thoroughly. There was a pleasant pinkness to his smirking lips by the time she pulled away from him. He regarded her with vibrant, shining eyes.
"You're in good spirits yourself," he pondered. "Homecoming suits you, Rúna. Come along, then."
As they had been preparing for bed anyway, Ivar had already shucked his braces. Giggling, Rúna helped him swing his legs over the bench seat he sat on. It was mere steps from the table to the bed in their cozy guest cabin. Rúna hooked an arm around his back, pulling one of his over her shoulders to help him hold his weight. He had been walking so often that now, without even his leather braces for support, Ivar was able to make the few shuffling steps to fall on the bed with Rúna.
"You come along, then," she teased him, the both of them laughing. Only his torso had made it onto the bed. Taking hold of the other's wrists, Rúna managed to haul him the rest of the way onto the bed. He was kissing her again in the next moment, a hand slipping beneath the neckline of her shift. It didn't take long for the fabric to fall from her shoulders.
She was all too pleased to pull him into her, kissing him hard as she did so.
"Rúna." She loved the way his voice stuttered over the syllables of her name when they joined together. An errant hand knocked against her nose, making her giggle, before Ivar succeeded in smoothing her hair off her face. He cupped her cheek, pressing his forehead to hers. "Gods, Rúna."
Homecoming suited Rúna just fine.
Rúna ate her skyr and berries standing on the beach, letting the sea breeze wash over her. How she had missed this sea. It was a tad colder here, northern as Tamdrup was, but the salty wind weaving fingers through her hair was the same.
Ivar was still sleeping in their borrowed bed. She had intended to be alone out here, having foregone waking both Tanaruz and Ivar, instead trekking to the seashore alone.
But Bodil had different ideas. The statuesque blonde sidled up to her side, nimbly snatching a berry from Rúna's bowl. "Good morning to you, too."
"I wanted to ask you about your journeys." Her friend smirked as she chewed the stolen berry. "But I thought perhaps you might not be so eager to share in front of the others."
"Ivar and Hvitserk are awake and gloating, then?" Rúna asked, peeking up at the taller girl. She offered the bowl to Bodil, her friend gladly taking a bite of skyr before handing it back.
"Did you expect anything less?"
"No," Rúna admitted, a fond smile playing at her lips. "You've a queen now. Not one I expected."
"Because she prefers women?" Bodil asked, making Rúna laugh.
"If Tanaruz wasn't mistaken, I would say Astrid prefers families. That night of the sacrifice, before we all left? I have it on good authority from Tanaruz that she saw Astrid and Björn slip away together. A tad raunchy, even for what we saw in childhood, no?" Rúna bumped her friend with her hip, making her smile and shake her head.
"Your sister is rather observant. I was hoping to catch you alone, Rúna. There is a... sensitive matter where my queen is concerned."
"Oh?"
Nothing could have prepared Rúna for the tale told to her once Bodil bent her head and began to whisper. In hushed, hurried tones, Bodil told Rúna a tale that began with kidnap and only got sadder from there. Astrid hadn't wanted to marry Harald, Bodil told her, but had been taken from Kattegat specifically for the purpose of becoming Tamdrup's queen by force. The unwilling queen, Bodil relayed, had attempted to get word back to Lagertha by way of the fishermen that traveled between Tamdrup and Kattegat to peddle their trade. Whether the message had been delivered, Bodil couldn't say, but she knew this for certain: the fishermen had raped Astrid and called it payment for the service. The Queen of Tamdrup was with child, with no way of knowing who had fathered it.
As Bodil spoke, Rúna felt her own stomach turn and tighten. "Does she need help?"
"Not in the way you are thinking, I am sure. Come along, Rúna."
Bodil tucked her hand into her friend's elbow, leading her toward the great hall. Sure enough, there sat Ivar and Hvitserk, regaling King Harald with tales of their escapades over their own breakfast. Rúna deposited her bowl of skyr at Ivar's elbow, knowing he would likely finish it for her. The pair breezed through the large feasting room up front with little notice; the crowd gathered was enthralled in Hvitserk's retelling of Ivar nearly killing Sigurd. Bodil raised an eyebrow at Rúna as they moved into the king and queen's bedroom, but the latter merely shrugged.
"They get along better now, actually." That made Bodil laugh despite herself, drawing the attention of Queen Astrid. The familiar, dark-haired young woman had been sitting beside the fire, half dressed, and staring listlessly into the hearth flames.
"Rúna."
"Hello, Astrid. Queen Astrid, I mean." She earned herself a rueful smile at use of her honorific. Rúna resisted the urge to lower her head in deference, guessing that Astrid would laugh at her out right if she took it that far. Bodil left her to stand in the doorway, going to her queen and assisting her in the completion of her dressing.
"Almost Queen Rúna," Astrid turned it back on her, making Rúna's cheeks flush hotly.
"If the gods will it," she said softly. "Bodil told me there is a… situation… you would like my help with?"
"Do not look so stricken about it." Astrid waved her forward, gesturing to the seat across from her. "I think you will like it."
Once seated, Astrid leaned forward and dropped the octave of her voice. "I want you to help me burn the fishermen quarters. They all live along the river, a neat row of cabins. I want you to help me bar their doors and set flame to their cabins with the men inside."
Rúna's stomach turned at that, not so much due to the words as much as the hard, slightly manic look in Astrid's eye. "That will cripple Tamdrup."
"I do not care about Tamdrup, Rúna. And I know you care little." As they spoke, Bodil puttered around the room, smoothing the furs on the bed and collecting used dishware. Yet she never left them alone even as she ran out of feasible tasks, and for that Rúna was grateful.
"What of their families?" Rúna questioned further. "Their wives and children do not deserve to burn for their transgressions."
"These men are of the lowest morals." Astrid had been shaking her head before Rúna even finished speaking. "The ones who raped me have no families to speak of. They spend their coin on sour ale and whores—forgive my language," she tacked on, sparing Rúna and Bodil a glance each.
"Rúna has never worked the pleasure trade," Bodil said mildly. "And I enjoyed my time doing so. No need to apologize, my queen."
"They will burn and die alone, as they deserve," Astrid continued as if Bodil hadn't spoken. Drawing her lip between her teeth, Rúna considered what was being asked of her. It would please Ivar, dealing Tamdrup a covert blow such as this. Truly, there was no need for King Harald to ever know it was done at her and Astrid's hand.
"They—Ivar and King Harald, that is—are sending an envoy to Kattegat today. Tomorrow night would be best. The timing would lend itself to framing Kattegat for the attack. If we can blame first blood on them, all the better… at least for my cause. Yes. I will help you."
The smile Astrid gave her was as sharp as a dagger.
To see Rúna at the feasting would be to think nothing at all was even vaguely amiss. She was radiant in the candlelight, cheeks flushed as she taught Gisli the dances she had learned in York and Éire. King Harald's court had always been a musical one; it didn't take long for the court musicians to figure the melodies that matched the steps the young women took together.
Rúna bowed deeply to Gisli, taking on the role of the man in their dance, before lifting her chin haughtily and offering her hand to her friend. Around them, the revelers laughed at her imitation of the Saxon lords. From the dais, Harald laughed as well, leaning close to Ivar on his left side. "She's quite the entertainer."
"She's something," Ivar agreed, affection glowing in his tone and expression as he took a long pull of ale. Tanaruz had been acting as a cupbearer that night, keeping himself, Hvitserk, and Harald well provided for. His horn was topped off before he even had the thought to call for the girl.
Gisli's husband, a lanky man with a swinging golden braid, was brought into the dance to take Rúna's place. He was not as graceful as Rúna had been, but he gamely followed Gisli's lead as other couples joined in the fun of mimicking their steps. Rúna herself moved through the crowd in a swish of blue silk skirts. Ivar watched as Rúna smiled and accepted a cup from Tanaruz herself before sidling up behind the brute of a man that Hvitserk was playing cards with.
Somehow the man remained unaware of Rúna's presence just behind his shoulder. After inspecting his cards, Rúna pulled a face before fading back into the crowd. Ivar could only see his brother's back but watched as he shuffled a few cards before setting down his hand. Laughing, Rúna sidestepped a wrestling match that had broken out and made her way up the dais. She kissed Ivar on the cheek upon reaching him, perching herself on the arm of Ivar's chair.
"Quite the feast you have thrown us, King Harald. Surely the most gracious reception we've received in all our travels, wouldn't you say, Ivar?"
"I do not think it is hard to outdo the hospitality of the Christians who hate our people," Harald chuckled. He raised his horn to Rúna, waiting for her to clink the rim of her cup to his. "Skol."
"Skol, King Harald. Of course, I was not speaking of the Christians." Ivar watched her bat the word away with a wave of her hand. "Has Ivar told you so little of our adventures?"
"Ah, do you mean to tell me that I am more magnanimous than this King Olaf the White I have heard stories of all night? You do honor me, Rúna." At that, Rúna smiled prettily at Harald before continuing down the table to Astrid. The young woman had been largely quiet on the other side of Harald, sitting the match to the king's throne and picking at her food. Rúna greeted Astrid just as warmly, talking quietly for a few moments with the older woman. Then, to both Harald and Ivar's surprise, Rúna coaxed the dour queen into leaving the dais and joining her in the dancing.
Harald watched his wife leave with clear surprise on his face. "My wife does not usually take part in the festivities. It would seem the shieldmaiden court Lagertha has built for herself is lacking in revelry."
"A shame. I imagine Kattegat will not be sad to see such dull, heartless leadership go."
The feasting lasted late into the night, edging toward dawn. When at last the celebration waned, Rúna wrapped an arm around Ivar's waist and tucked herself beneath his free arm. She was fighting back yawns all the while, subtly helping Ivar shuffle his way to their borrowed cabin.
"Did your envoy have anything to report?"
"Only that Lagertha agrees to your terms. We will meet them in battle in an open field." He dropped a kiss to the top of her head, the night gray and insubstantial around them. Already the stars were beginning to fade from the approaching sun.
"When?"
"Three days' time." Ivar felt the shiver that ran through her shoulders at his words. He felt the same anticipation; here they were, on the cusp of their fate. Moving as one, they slipped into the warmth of the cabin. Nights had grown cold, and color was high in Rúna's cheeks when she turned to him.
"There's something I must tell you." Her gray eyes were soft and pleading as she sought his gaze. "Tomorrow night, I am going with Astrid, and we are going to burn the fishermen shacks at the edge of Tamdrup. And the fishermen. We—me and you—are going to push the story that it was Lagertha's doing, that she has drawn first blood. Perhaps that will make King Harald more sympathetic to our cause."
"And why are you going to do this, Rúna? Do not tell me you trust Astrid to be your confidant in this little scheme." Ivar shifted his weight more fully on his crutch, drawing away from her and studying the way Rúna's chin jutted defiantly.
"It is not my scheme, it is Astrid's. She is with child," Rúna divulged, speaking slowly, as if he were a child that needed to be eased into the notion, "and not by choice. Not by King Harald. She tried to send word to Lagertha by way of the fishermen who trade with Kattegat. They decided they were due payment and took it physically."
Disgust twisted Rúna's mouth into a scowl. She didn't need to elaborate to know the fishermen had forced themselves on Astrid. Ivar took a deep breath, inhaling the rose water scent of Rúna's hair, the warm, sooty remnants of the coals in the hearth. "Astrid is going to allow you to blame this deed on Lagertha?"
"She's hardly made an effort to take Astrid from this place, no? The message made it to Lagertha, yet here Astrid remains. Harald chose Astrid, brought her here against her will. She agreed to marry him because she believed Lagertha would come for her once she was knowledgeable about her whereabouts. It has not been so."
Contempt had turned Rúna rigid. Ivar shifted his weight again, resting an elbow on his crutch to keep his balance while he took her by her stiff shoulders. He knew well the need for revenge, could hardly deny Rúna the right to help Astrid with hers. "You will take Tanaruz with you," he told her. "And cover your hair. We cannot have you recognized if we're to blame the attack on Lagertha."
Leaning forward, Rúna rested her head against his own shoulder and nodded. "I'll wear your hooded tunic," she reassured him. "Thank you."
The unfortunate thing about burning men is that it smells worryingly like roasting a beast. Red and orange flames licked at the star-strewn sky above, the oppressive heat pushing against Rúna. They had divided their forces on either side of the river, herself and Tanaruz working on the far bank while Bodil and Astrid took care of the bank closer to Tamdrup.
"I am going to be sick," Rúna murmured just moments before turning away from the flames and screams of men to retch into the river. King Harald had feasted them the bounty of the sea that night. The fatty, rich whale meat was rancid in her mouth as it came back up. She wiped her mouth on the sleeve of Ivar's tunic before returning to her place beside Tanaruz. "I've missed three courses now."
"I know," her sister answered. The flames before them were mirrored in the girl's dark eyes. "We will surely be back in Kattegat before the fourth."
"Surely." She no longer had the energy to argue with Tanaruz. Each day with a course solidified the fact her sister had been right. "Come along. We mustn't be caught."
Taking her hand, Rúna led Tanaruz into the trees. It was only a matter of time before the firelight and screaming drew attention. She hadn't seen Astrid nor Bodil fade away, but there was no need; she was confident her old friend wouldn't allow her queen to be compromised. From the shadowy cover of the trees, Rúna lingered, watching the sky become choked with smoke.
"Are you certain you truly do not want to tell him before the battle, shaqiqa?" Tanaruz was at her elbow, watching Rúna's face rather than the macabre scene before them. "What if you lose the child?"
"I will not," Rúna bit the words from between her teeth. "Tell Ivar nor lose the child." Reaching beneath her tunic, Rúna retrieved a familiar sprig of mistletoe. Months had passed since it was gifted to her, yet it was as green and lively as it had been on the first day. "Remember, I told you the Seer gave me this? The god Baldur was killed with a mistletoe dart. Before that, he was so beloved that his mother, Frigg, asked protection from everything that may cause him harm… but she overlooked mistletoe. The other gods played games of throwing dangerous things at Baldur, knowing no harm would come to him, until Loki played a wicked trick and gave Höd, the blind god, mistletoe to hurl at Baldur. It killed him instantly."
Tanaruz was listening with rapt attention, but her brow furrowed all the same. "What does that have to do with you being with child?"
"When Helga… I-I thought I understood, then, why the Seer had given me the mistletoe. To forewarn betrayal. I think that is still part of it, but… when it was given to me, the Seer placed the mistletoe in my belt, so that it rested over my belly." Rúna spun the mistletoe between her fingers, watching the distant flames glint off the berries. "He told me to cling to my faith in the gods, and that they would cling to me in turn."
"You think your gods will protect you and the child? The way this Frigg asked protection for Baldur?"
"I know they will," Rúna told her, tucking the mistletoe away once more. "I will win my child's birthright in battle, Tanaruz. The gods would not give me this child, against the odds, only to take it away."
"I will pray to Allah that you are right, shaqiqa." Tanaruz shook her head, veil rustling against her cheeks. "I have never heard of a woman entering battle knowing full well she carried a child in her belly."
"You hadn't heard of women in battle before coming to Kattegat," Rúna reminded her, not unkindly. They fell quiet, watching frantic members of Tamdrup appear at the burning cabins. Some filled buckets with river water to throw at the flames, failing to dash them. Others took sheets and beat at the fire. It was all in vain; the screams had stopped some minutes ago. "Lagertha once entered battle while with child," Rúna revealed. "It did not end well for her. But Lagertha lost the favor of the gods long ago. The Seer foretold that she would bear no more children years before that."
"And you still want to take the risk?"
"I already told you, Tanaruz. There is no risk. I will carry this child through battle with me, and they will be born the heir of Kattegat."
A/N: I thought for a long time what I wanted to do with Astrid when we got to this part and eventually it became clear to me: I wanted to give her some of her agency back. With a lot of the side characters in Vikings, I feel that their agency is greatly lacking, and their actions are only written with the thought of moving the main characters' plots forward. I hope that, with the help of Bodil and Rúna, I was able to give Astrid some of herself back in a time of the show that I feel she was treated as merely a plot device for Harald and Lagertha.
I think I'm late in this thanks, but thank you Rue Dawn for the kind review recently!