Chapter Forty-Five: Crowning Achievement
With no mother and only one sister to speak of, King Harald was kind enough to lend Bodil and Gisli to Rúna on the day of her wedding. The king was taking the death of his own wife in stride, keeping to his cups and overseeing both the funeral boats being arranged for Astrid and his brother, Halfdan. From what Hvitserk told her, though, King Harald had been the one to kill his brother.
"I'm very thankful neither you nor Ivar are kinslayers after today," Rúna had told Hvitserk during the victory feast. "It's ill luck to kill a brother."
"I hope that statement is still true tomorrow, Rúna. Lagertha was not the only hostage we took."
That was the first she had heard of Ubbe after the battle started. She had the good fortune of never seeing the oldest son of Aslaug during the slaughter, and for that she was grateful. Rúna couldn't imagine Ubbe doing her harm, and she knew in her heart that she wouldn't have been able to raise a blade to the man. Ubbe had been as much of an older brother to her as he had been to the boys.
But that had all occurred the day before. Currently, Rúna was wincing once more as Tanaruz's gentle hands unwound the bandages that covered her sword wound. "It's going to leave an awful scar once it heals, shaqiqa."
"As long as it heals, I don't care." Though hardly a maiden-she was, after all, already pregnant with Ivar's child-Bodil and Gisli had insisted on performing the maiden ritual of bathing and hair dressing for the wedding. Once free of her bandages, Rúna stepped gingerly into the herb-filled water.
"I still cannot believe you were so bold as to fight yesterday," Gisli chastised her even as she took up a comb to begin working the sleep tangles from Rúna's hair.
"I cannot believe you didn't say anything when I told you of Astrid." With the Queen of Tamdrup departed to Valhalla, there was no reason to edge around her secret. Apparently it had not been such a secret, though; Rúna had overheard King Harald mention the child he thought was his own after Ivar's announcement in the great hall the night before.
Rúna shrugged, immediately regretting the motion. The warm water felt nice on her back, but the slightest movement of her shoulders was a painful reminder of Lagertha's sword. Tanaruz, ever a quick learner, took up a washcloth and a lump of scented soap and began gently washing Rúna. "I am well and so is my child," she said simply, as if it excused her earlier actions.
Telling Ivar when she did had been the right choice. Overcome with victory, he hadn't been angry with her in the slightest. Rather, he only had smiles for her through the night, and she had fallen asleep after the feast with Ivar's hand on her belly.
Now she looked down at her stomach, distorted as it was by the water. For the first time, Rúna wished she were farther along if only so she could have the reassurance of the baby moving to know all was truly well. Though she knew it must be, for she had still experienced no cramping and hadn't bled even a little following the battle, it was hard to convince her fears that the child wasn't going to vanish now that it had been revealed.
Once she was clean and her hair combed, Bodil helped Rúna from the bath while Gisli wrapped her in a linen towel. Rúna sat warming by the fire while Tanaruz readied her clothing. As a gesture for Ivar, she had chosen to wear her dress made of the blue silk Queen Aslaug had once gifted her. It was also the last dress that Helga had made for her, which made her feel as if she were keeping a small part of her mother with her on her wedding day.
Gisli had gone to Floki's seaside cabin for Rúna and retrieved a few things, namely some of Helga's hair beads and the sword that she had given Floki at their own wedding. Ragnar's sword had been easily found still hanging over the entrance to the great hall.
While she dried and warmed, Bodil and Gisli began braiding Helga's beads into her hair. The twins worked in tandem and Rúna did her best to sit completely still for them even when her hair brushed the open wound on her back. Tanaruz applied more of the herbal paste and bandaged it for her once more after her hair was sorted.
Then all three of them helped her dress. Bodil carefully pulled a shift over her head; Tanaruz eased the silk onto her. Gisli did up the laces down the back and helped Rúna slip on a pair of silk slippers. She had only worn boots for month, the silk feeling foreign on her feet. For the first time since Helga had pierced them, Rúna swapped out the pearl earrings Queen Aslaug had given her for a silver pair of disks that had once belonged to her mother.
They perfectly matched the bridal circlet that Bodil slipped over her head. It was cold across her forehead, but light on her head. Gisli clasped a shawl around her shoulders, both for warmth-the wedding was to be outside with the funeral for the fallen to follow-and so that the soft, brown fur would conceal where the low neckline of her dress left her bandages visible.
Now that she was fully dressed, Rúna found her childhood friends and sister smiling brightly at her. "You really do look like a queen," Gisli complimented before kissing Rúna's blushing cheek. "Now let's get you married."
The air was cold but Rúna found herself warmed through by Ivar's smile. It didn't leave his face. That smile was there when they exchanged the swords of their absent fathers, when Ivar slipped a simple, dainty silver ring on her finger. Rúna thought it might well crack Ivar's cheeks when the gods were invoked over them.
May Odin give you knowledge on your way to come. For once, Rúna was thankful for the eyeless gaze of the Seer standing apart from the gathered crowd but watching all the same.
May Thor bless this union with strength and courage. May Frigg grant you family and prosperity. A little thrill went through her center, Ivar's eyes softening.
May Loki never deny you laughter.
That certainly would never be a concern. The sacrificial blood was hardly dry on Rúna and Ivar's face when Hvitserk announced he would be "Oh so very glad" to take over the bridal run duties for Ivar. Hvitserk proceeded to outpace several young men from Kattegat, running a lap around the great hall and jumping over several steps of the outdoor dais to land red-cheeked and laughing at Rúna's feet.
"Your bride is safe with you, little brother. I'll take payment in honeyed mead and sweet cakes."
The people of Kattegat cheered and laughed along with Hvitserk, their joy continuing when Lagertha's sigil was replaced with Ivar's atop the great hall. Rúna had been right, then. Lagertha's stolen rule had left a more bitter taste in the mouths of the common people than the defeated queen seemed to realize.
Another deviation from typical wedding ceremonies took place: Ivar removed Rúna's bridal circlet, replacing it with a small, bejeweled silver crown. It was the same one Lagertha had worn braided into her hair for the Battle of Kattegat. Rúna wondered who removed it, and if Lagertha had protested.
The dais was quickly filled with bridal gifts for Rúna. Most of were for her impending motherhood: embroidered blankets, sweet little caps and booties. A group of blushing little boys presented her with carved, wooden animals, a menagerie of foxes and bears and deer. Other things were for her: bolts of fabric, brightly dyed wool for weaving, new sewing needles. And, just as she had gifted Blaeja on her wedding day, Bodil and Gisli deposited a twin pair of sleek black kittens into her lap.
All of it was collected by Tanaruz and Vigrid, her sister and húskarl toting the gifts to the great hall. Last night, during the feasting, Vigrid had pledged his sword and protection to Rúna and her child. She had thanked the gods endlessly that she had ended up with the steadfast, quiet man as her sworn húskarl over White Hair.
"Guthrum was not brought back?" Rúna asked Ivar, settling into the throne that had been brought forth from the great hall. There were only two large funeral boats, one for Astrid and one for Halfdan, with mass pyres ready to be lit around them to burn the rest of the dead. Between her injury, pregnancy, and the wedding, she was already tired out. Knowing her day was hardly beginning didn't help matters.
"Björn took him," Ivar explained. "I saw no reason to have White Hair stop him."
"And Torvi?"
"With her other children." Ivar didn't have to elaborate further for Rúna to understand that Torvi, Hali, and Asa were captives as well. Her heart twisted at that; despite being enemies yesterday, she wished no harm to Torvi, her children, or Ubbe.
The funerals were turned over to King Harald. He sang a sad dirge as the pyres were lit with torches. Astrid and Halfdan's boats were pushed into the shallows, an offering to the tides, and flaming arrows were shot into the tinder that lined the ships around the bodies. Before Astrid was sent on her way, Rúna had placed one of the feathers from Lagertha's snowy white owl over her heart.
Rúna would send Astrid to the gods with a piece of Lagertha even if the shieldmaiden herself was unwilling.
As for the owl, the beast still flapped among the rafters of the great hall, only because Rúna insisted Ivar couldn't kill it. She had stopped a game some of the men were playing the night before where they took turns throwing knives at the bird.
"I'll set it free in the spring," Rúna had told Ivar, ignoring his protests that keeping the thing was bad luck. It wasn't the owl's fault its owner had been conniving and deceitful.
But now, the funeral fires was lighting up this night, the fragrant herbs that had been tucked into the tinder doing little to mask the smell of burning flesh. The smell would linger in Kattegat for days, Rúna knew.
"Vigrid took Bishop Heahmund up the mountain to be buried beside the priest Athelstan?" Rúna questioned, burying her own face in her fur shawl to hide from the smell. It turned her stomach now just as it had on the night she helped Astrid dispose of the men who had taken advantage of her.
"Wrapped in a shroud and given a wooden cross, just as you instructed, my love." He reached for her hand as he watched the fires.
"I will write to Sigurd soon, so he might tell Blaeja." The boats had caught opposite tides. Halfdan's sent him veering into the fjord as if he were intentionally sailing toward Tamdrup. Astrid's, though, was being pulled out to open sea. With the sun already hanging low on the horizon, it looked as if three suns were setting on Ivar and Rúna's wedding day.
King Harald and his people took their leave soon after; Rollo's men were set to sail come the morning. Rúna parted from Bodil and Gisli once more with hugs and kisses and promises to visit once her child was born. The revelry of the wedding feast had been somewhat dampened by its being combined with a funeral feast, but Rúna didn't mind. She was tired and wanted to get the final part of the day over with so that she might retire to bed.
When the funeral pyres finally dwindled to embers and the people of Kattegat were heading to their own homes, Rúna, Ivar, Tanaruz, and Hvitserk cloistered themselves in the great hall. Decisions had to be made about what to do with their captives.
"I do not want to kill Ubbe," Hvitserk said plainly, gaze downturned as he lit a brazier.
"Neither do I," Ivar admitted. He picked at a loose thread in the scarlet embroidery adorning his black tunic. "But... I do not trust him to remain in Kattegat."
"Why not give him passage back to York?" Rúna asked. "He wanted to farm anyway, and I doubt Sigurd would turn him away. Nor could York ever be taken from Sigurd and Blaeja, not by Ubbe. It's already been won by conquest, Sigurd's claim solidified by his marriage to Blaeja and the backing of Aethelwulf and Queen Judith."
Both brothers turned to Rúna, considering her words before nodding in tandem. "Perhaps he will take Torvi and the children with him. I do not trust her, either, Little Ivar. But I also do not think we should make orphans of our niece and nephew. Besides..." Hvitserk raised his eyebrows expectantly at Tanaruz, causing the young girl to blush.
"I overheard that, before the battle, Björn set Torvi and their children aside so that he might marry one of the... Sami..." she pronounced the word delicately, "women. A princess, I understand. She perished in the fighting."
"Serves Björn right," Rúna muttered, scowling to think that the unending loyalty shown in Lagertha was absent in her son.
"That leaves Lagertha," Ivar reminded them. "You know where I stand."
The four of them quieted around the table. Ivar, of course, was still of the opinion Lagertha must die. His preferred method was public execution, by way of burning or beheading he did not care, but she was not permitted the option of earning Valhalla through a silent blood eagle.
Tanaruz stood firm in Ivar's opinion, her reasoning being that Rúna and the child would be targets for the shieldmaiden should she live.
Until last night, Hvitserk had been in agreement with Ivar. That had changed when, just after the feasting, Vigrid had returned from his turn watching the captives to report that Lagertha's 'mind had broken'. Rúna and Hvitserk had gone to the cabin where Lagertha was being kept to find the woman shockingly white of hair, her sky blue eyes showing no recognition for what should have been their familiar faces, and mumbling incoherently beneath her breath.
"She is unwell, Ivar," Rúna said softly, making Hvitserk snort.
"She's fucking insane, is what she is. You need to see for yourself. We can hardly execute someone who has no concept of their crime."
Ivar was shaking his head even before Hvitserk finished speaking. "Tanaruz is right. I won't risk Rúna nor our child by leaving Lagertha alive."
"And how will it look, Ivar, if we parade Lagertha out to the people while she's muttering nonsense, and have her killed? It will hardly set a positive tone for your reign, not to mention once Björn catches word, he will be marching on Kattegat the moment he can find allies."
"We have our own allies," Ivar met Rúna's logic with stubbornness.
"We have King Harald... on a good day," Rúna went on to remind him, not unkindly. "We are indebted to Rollo, currently, but I think he would help us again if needed. Sigurd would remain neutral, still, we all know it. And King Olaf is rather far across the ocean. We will have to forge allies closer to home."
"I will not ally with Björn."
"No one is asking you to."
"If I may?" Tanaruz raised her hand the slightest bit to interrupt Ivar and Rúna's arguing and draw attention back to herself. "I know well the brutality of Vikings." She threw a sardonic look to Hvitserk. "Never more so than when they ravaged my homeland. I still agree that Lagertha must die... but could it not be done in a merciful way? Would that not show that your rule will be firm but fair?"
"A merciful way?" Ivar repeated back to her. "Such as...?"
"A quick death. I'm sure you know methods. Or poison...? I know there are mystics here, those painted men that oversaw the wedding and lit the funeral pyres? Do they not also deal with poison?"
Ivar stared hard at the girl across the table for so long that she began to squirm. Rúna took his hand and gave his fingers a squeeze. She knew he was only thinking, but the way his brow lowered and he glared while doing do was certainly intimidating.
"We'll give Ubbe and Torvi the option of York in the morning. Or the Saxon lands in general. I do not care if they join Sigurd or not. The three of us—myself, Rúna, and Hvitserk—are going to pay visits to the Seer tomorrow. Perhaps the cryptic bastard will provide some insight on what should be done about Lagertha."
By the time she was able to go to bed, Rúna was tired of wearing clothing that touched her back. The wound was healing, already scabbing over at the edges where the cut was shallower, but clothing irritated her even with the bandages. She slept as Ivar did, dressed only in pants, the blankets and furs pulled tightly around her.
By necessity, she had to sleep on her side. She kept her back to the fire, hugging Ivar to her from behind, very much enjoying the thought of their unborn child safe between them. "Do you really think visiting the Seer will help?"
"I think it will buy me time to convince my bleeding-heart wife and brother," he told her honestly. Rúna's heart gave a squeeze at the word 'wife'. "You need to choose a household, Rúna. Vigrid is a big man, but I hardly doubt he is prepared to take on… women's business… as well as being your sworn protector."
"Besides Tanaruz, I only want Revna, if she is willing." Ivar shifted at that, turning to give her a confused expression over his shoulder.
"Who?"
"Budlungr… Revna? Your mother's serving woman? She was around for the majority of our childhood." His face remained blank and Rúna rolled her eyes at him. "I'll send Vigrid to find her in the morning. She is loyal. She was with us the morning Queen Aslaug was killed and helped tend her body after."
Ivar digested this and acquiesced to her request with a nod. "She will serve."
"If she's willing," Rúna reiterated. "Revna is a free woman. I do not want any slaves, not after all that happened with Margrethe."
Ivar smirked and kissed her first on the mouth and then the forehead. She was well aware that keeping such a small household would leave some of the housekeeping tasks to her, but she didn't care. Unlike Ivar, she hadn't been raised royal. Maintaining loyalty in the great hall was more important to her than dodging unsavory chores.
Though thoughts of what the morning would bring still ran through her mind, Rúna found herself unable to give them much attention. Exhaustion tugged her down into a heavy and—blessedly—dreamless sleep.
"Good morning, Seidmadhr." As offering, Rúna brought with her some of the honeyed mead and sweetcakes Hvitserk had so loved during the feasting last night. She placed them on the Seer's table, sidestepping the clutter in his hovel, and kneeling at the feet of the being.
"Hello again, Queen Rúna." Though eyeless, she somehow felt the Seer's gaze settle on her middle. "Should I assume you've come to me to ask after the fate of another again?"
A hand came to settle over her belly as Rúna giggled despite herself. "No… not theirs, anyway. But I do have a question about how my fate might cross another's."
The Seer's mouth quirked downward at that as he continued to regard her. After a beat where they both sat in the smoky silence of the hovel, the Seer sighed. "You do so love to play the part of a wily little fox."
Rúna tried to look appropriately abashed, but she couldn't keep the smirk from her face. It wasn't as if she was trying to hide her intent from the Seer. Unable to deny it, she merely shrugged and waited. When the Seer chuckled, the sound reminded her distinctly of dust clouds puffing from beaten rugs during spring cleanings.
"You may take this riddle to the boneless king and his loyal brother, though I doubt hearing it relayed in your voice will deter them from kneeling before me as you are now: you have looked the answer in the face countless times."
Nonplussed by this answer, Rúna nonetheless thanked the Seer for his assistance. Visiting the Seer now had not been nearly so unnerving as it had been before she left Kattegat. Still, the visit had left her feeling unfooted all the same. She met with Vigrid, who was waiting beneath the weak autumn sun, and tried to give the man a smile. "I want to see Lagertha."
"Of course, my queen." Rúna knew Ivar would never condone her going alone, but with her sworn protector? If he was still upset, surely it would only be a miniscule amount. Vigrid had to lead her across the market and to the opposite side of Kattegat. Rúna wouldn't admit that until she saw the formerly empty cabin, she had no idea where it was that Lagertha was being kept.
The shieldmaiden was alone, the one-room cabin outfitted with only a bed. No candles burned inside, the floor was bare, and the 'bed' was a mattress on the floor. Ivar doesn't want her to hurt herself before a decision is made. Due to the shadows, Rúna belatedly placed Lagertha in a dark corner, her back to the wall and her knees drawn up. Her hair had gone entirely white.
"She… was not like this before," Rúna told Vigrid. Lagertha still stared blankly ahead, just as she had when Rúna and Hvitserk came. Squaring her shoulders, Rúna walked into the dim cabin and crouched before the shieldmaiden.
"No," Lagertha croaked. Her voice was no longer soft and musical. Now she sounded as if she were speaking through brambles caught in her throat. "A son of Ragnar. It must be a son of Ragnar."
"Not a daughter of Floki?" Rúna couldn't help saying. She heard Vigrid move through the room, felt him come to stand not far behind her. The man must have touched his sword—both he and White Hair always wore theirs, at the ready—for the panic in Lagertha was instantaneous.
"No! No! A son of Ragnar! A son of Ragnar!" Rúna raised a hand, motioning for Vigrid to fall back.
"A son of Ragnar?" Rúna repeated. "That is what you want?"
"It must be a son of Ragnar." The phrase fell from the shieldmaiden's mouth several more times. Rúna nodded, her stomach dropping. Without bidding Lagertha goodbye, Rúna stood. Vigrid followed her without prompting.
"Vigrid," she said, not looking back at either her protector or the guarded cabin containing Lagertha, "could you find a woman named Revna for me? She served Queen Aslaug in the past."
"It will be done, my queen."
"Thank you. I will be in my bedchamber in the great hall. Please bring her to me there."
Lagertha's continued degeneration of the mind had left a bad tased in Rúna's mouth. Meeting with Revna had soothed her nerves some, though. The woman had soft black hair and an easy smile, just as Rúna remembered. She readily accepted her former place be restored in Rúna's household and took up the servant's quarters in the great hall once more.
Tanaruz had made her new bedroom from a loft above Rúna and Ivar's bedchamber. Hvitserk returned to his old cabin, close to the great hall. It appeared the new rulers and their family were settled, but that was far from the truth.
As predicted by the Seer, his use of Rúna to relay the message didn't deter either Ivar or Hvitserk from hearing it for themselves from the source. Those words puzzled all four of them and became the only topic of discussion over the dinner table.
"It cannot be one of you three," Tanaruz said shrewdly, carefully plucking a chicken bone from the meat on Rúna's plate. "Not if you have looked the answer in the face."
Ivar pursed his lips at that. Rúna knew well that, with Lagertha held captive, Ivar had recanted his opinion that either he or Hvitserk would be suitable to end the usurper's life. He had reverted back to the stance that he must be the one, to avenge Aslaug.
"She's right, unless you have a habit of admiring your reflection that we don't know about, Budlungr." Glaring at his wife, Ivar stabbed a goat cheese stuffed mushroom on his knife and ate it off the blade.
"Bad luck, Little Ivar," Hvitserk consoled, taking a hearty bite of his chicken leg. He didn't bother to chew and swallow before speaking again, instead tucking the food into his cheek. "It will not be you or I."
"But," Rúna began, taking a small sip of her mead, "it will be a Ragnarsson." Then she went on to detail her visit to Lagertha, assuring Ivar that she didn't go alone but rather with Vigrid to protect her. The words settled heavily over the table. Hvitserk looked increasingly uneasy while a smirk spread across Ivar's lips.
There was only one other son of Ragnar in Norway who could be coerced into the deed.
"If it is a son of Ragnar that she wants," Ivar said, the amusement clear in his voice, "it is a son of Ragnar I will give her."
Hvitserk frowned, his face draining of color. "You would force Ubbe that way?"
"I cannot force fate anymore than you can, brother," Ivar replied mildly, setting his knife point into the table and idly twirling the blade. "Lagertha will die by the hand of a son of Ragnar, and as Tanaruz already pointed out, it cannot be either of us. Should I send to York, see if Sigurd is feeling generous enough to do the deed instead? Ubbe will do this or remain my prisoner for as long as my goodwill lasts."
Though his mouth twisted in disgust, and color returned to his face in the form of red splotches over his cheeks, Hvitserk spoke evenly. "Then you will do as Rúna proposed. Give Ubbe, Torvi, and her children safe passage to England in exchange."
"Fine," Ivar agreed, waving his brother's anger away. "Rúna will choose the best of our ships for Ubbe's reward."
"And it will be made clear this was our choice," Rúna continued, inclining her head to Ivar. "We should not let Ubbe suffer Björn's wrath in something he has no choice in."
Ivar waved that away, too. "Very well. I do not fear Björn."
"I want to be the one to discuss it with Ubbe." Hvitserk's anger was already cooling to resignation. With a victorious smile, Ivar nodded his consent for Hvitserk to do so.
"It's settled, then. The next full moon is in four days' time. I think Lagertha will keep until then, no?"