New perspectives
Ubbe leads her through the city and into a smaller house, a room really, and when Sigurd watches them enter, he wordlessly gestures towards a small, makeshift cot that has clearly just been put together.
Before she can lay down Ubbe asks her to sit with him by the fire. Sigurd is sitting further back, working on a piece of wood, but his attention is on his brother and the curious new arrival. They pass her some bread and cheese, that looks just a little off, but she takes it gratefully.
Mary has a suspicion of what he wants and is proven right when he starts speaking.
"Are you really a Seer?"
"It's not the word I would use, but yes. I know about things that have not happened yet." She answers carefully, trying to stay as truthful as possible without telling them everything. She starts nibbling on the bread, not yet daring to touch the cheese.
"Don't be insulted by my mistrust. My brother is a smart man, but even he can be fooled, especially with a pretty face."
Mary wants to feel angry. She wants to argue and defend herself, defend Ivar even, but she is so tired that her eyes are heavy and her head is foggy.
"My brother has taken your words very seriously, and though he wants revenge on Lagertha, he is willing to settle for avenging our father's death." Ubbe explains "He says that you foretold our victory."
She nods silently, finally taking a bite of the cheese, chewing it slowly and swallowing.
"I need you to prove what you claim. Should you be lying, and this invasion fails, it would be disastrous for my people. I hope you understand that I cannot just go off of your word here."
Mary blinks slowly as her brain process her words.
"I can try. I don't know everything, and the exact date of events can be – imprecise." She explains and wrecks her brain, trying to find something that happens between now and the invasion by the Great Heathen Army. But she doesn't even know when now is, and as hard as she tries to think, there is nothing she can say for sure that will happen in the next year. Then a thought occurs to her.
"Your brother Bjorn. He is away right now, isn't he?"
Ubbe nods, waiting for her to continue.
"He is, well, he will be famous, for his expedition to the Mediterranean Sea."
"How do you know where he has gone?" Ubbe asks sceptically and Mary smiles, taking a bite of her bread. The cheese isn't bad, but the taste is strange on her tongue.
"Seer."
"You could have learned that in England." He argues and Mary snorts.
"If the English knew that the oldest son of Ragnar is far away, together with most of their army there would be an armada in your waters right now."
She doesn't know if they know the word armada, but he seems to understand the basic meaning behind it, as he thinks about what she said and then gives a slow now, satisfied by her answer.
"Thank you," Ubbe says and finally, finally, she is allowed to leave. After sleeping in the cold deck of a boat for over a week, it takes her barely more than a second to sink into the soft furs and fall asleep.
But after days on the water, Mary had taken as many pelts and blankets as she could find, cocooning in the warmth she had been craving, only to wake up a couple of hours later, drenches in sweat. The dress the English had given her, is made to withstand the cold of the journey, but here, in a warm house, it feels like a furnace.
Half asleep Mary watches the two brothers laying in their own cots (Ubbe snoring happily) as she tries to find she clothes she bought yesterday. The fire has turned into golden embers, casing barely any light, but her hand finds the linen tunic and she quickly slips out of the dress and into the shirt. It is a little too tight, she notices now, but it will do. Happy, she falls back into her makeshift bed.
The next day comes and Mary is the first one to wake up. She doesn't know the daily goings of Viking life yet, but at least for Ubbe and Sigurd it does not seem to include early mornings. She doesn't want to wake her hosts, so she stays where she is and stares at the ceiling. Yesterday was… interesting. She doesn't know what to make of Ivar's outburst, but it had scared her. Scared her so much that the first night in this new land she had preferred to stay with two strangers than with him. His anger had been justified; Mary knows that. He had just lost his father, now his mother and if there is one thing she knows about Ivar, its that he is lead by his emotions. He is smart, perceptive, downright deceptive at times, but still emotional, with anger being the main pull.
A knock comes from the door and Mary sits up, but neither brother seems too keen on opening.
Sigurd seems oblivious to the sounds, sleeping soundly, but Ubbe turns, opens one eye and groans when a second knock sounds. Well, she is supposed to be a slave, she might as well start now.
She slips from the bed and tiptoes through the door.
"Mary." Ubbe says, yawning as he sits up, and she assumes he is trying to tell her that she doesn't have to, but she just waves it off.
When she opens the door, she has to admit that she thought it was a prank for a second, before her eyes fall on Ivar, sitting in front of the door and when she steps back to let him in, he only scoffs.
So, his mood hasn't improved.
A woman carrying a basket of hay throws her a curious look and Mary notices that she is only wearing a shirt. It reached down to her thighs (in fact, she has skirts that are shorter) but it's not proper attire where she is right now. With a blush Mary closes the door.
"I see it took only a few hours for you to turn to my brothers." Ivar says, not even looking at her as he heaves himself up on a chair.
"You did not seem to be in the mood for company." Mary remarks, but he just waves her words of like an annoying insect.
"Do not lie to me, I know women like you." He says, his voice cold and even at Ubbe's low warning he doesn't stop. "Whose bed did you share? Ubbe is the oldest, so he would be the best choice. If so, you should probably put more effort into it, he should be as exhausted as Sigurd."
The man in question finally wakes up, blinking in confusion before pulling himself upright in his bed. Ubbe stands up, chest bare as he walks over to the table and sits down beside his brother. Maybe to intervene should Ivar lose his temper.
Ivar still doesn't look at her and Mary growls at his insult.
"Is that what you think of women? Of me? That all we do is fuck the most convenient way?"
Finally, he looks up, but there is no warmth in his eyes, not even anger, really. Just disappointment and disgust.
"Yes." He says matter of fact, "Why else would you be half naked in a hut with my brothers?"
She instinctively pull the shirt down, trying to cover up as she stands in the middle of the room being insulted.
"It does not help. It's see through." Ivar remarks and with horror Mary notices that he is right. Ubbe, clearly much more used to women just sighs, but Sigurd is staring at her, his jaw slack and Mary crosses her arms over her chest to at least gain some dignity.
Without a word she pulls on the pair of pants (at least they fit) and sits on the furs, from where she continues glaring at the back of Ivar's head. Asshole.
Sigurd, in an unprecedented moment of wisdom speaks up.
"Maybe we should call for one of the other female slaves. She can help you with… well, with the things that women should know."
Ubbe nods in agreement. "Bring her to the slave house now. They can show her how to dress properly. I will look for Margarethe later, so that she can teach her everything else." Ivar chuckles darkly at the name and Ubbe, finally fed up with his brother's mood turn towards him.
"Is there something funny, brother."
Mary watches the quiet confrontation with her nails digging into her arms.
Ubbe is the first one to break eye contact and turns towards Sigurd.
"Show her the way." He instructs his brother and, after quickly getting dressed, they head towards the door. Ivar grabs her wrists when she passes him, his grip tighter than necessary and looks up at her. "Tonight, I expect you in my cabin."
Mary nods. He can bet on that, because no matter how foul his mood, she will have a word with him.
The town is already fully awake when they step out and when they pass more and more people, covered in mud and dragging shovels Sigurd stops one of the people and asks what is going on.
"Queen Lagertha is reinforcing the defences of the town." The man says puzzled, clearly surprised that they don't know about it. Then his eyes are drawn to Mary who is standing with her hands in her hair, trying to braid the long strands before the wind can do too much damage. However, the pose not only bares, but emphasizes her lack of cover and it's only when Sigurd awkwardly clears his throat that she becomes aware of it. Crossing her arms again, she glares at the man.
"Pervert." She hisses as they walk past him.
"You speak oddly." Sigurd remarks.
"Where I grew up it's normal." Mary replies.
"Where are you from? Ivar says he met you in Wessex, but that you were born far away."
Mary laughs sarcastically "You could say that. Where I am from, it's always warm, even when the sun doesn't shine."
Sigurd looks over his shoulder at her. Even in the relatively pleasant temperatures of the morning she is shivering.
"It must be quite a shock to you then." He says sympathetically and Mary realizes that he was trying to make small talk. She smiles, appreciating the effort he is putting into getting to know her
"It is. But the days are much shorter than here. And I have to admit, I have always wanted to see the long days that happen up here." She says wistfully and Sigurd nods enthusiastically.
"Its quite a sight to behold." He agrees "But it can make sleeping quite hard at times. When Ivar was a child, he would never sleep when it was light out, and our mother would suffer through the summers." He recounts and Mary laughs. A troublemaker even then.
"You have been here before then?" Sigurd asks her as they reach the market place.
She shakes her head but touches a finger to her temple with a smile.
"Ah, of course." He says and then, once they have passed through the crowd of the market he leans in closer and asks in a low voice "Tell me, will I ever be famous?"
She rolls her eyes at the question but smiles.
"Of course you will, Sigurd Snake-in-the-eye." She whispers back and a proud smile stretches across his face.
"Don't go boasting around, even to your brothers." She warns and his smile falters. But she doesn't want any more animosities between him and Ivar "I mean it. If I find out that you told fanyone I will make sure you end up as a pig farmer in the most forgotten part of the world."
He swallows hard but nods, and Mary smiles. Slowly, she is figuring out this whole Seer thing.
They are heading towards the harbour, when a girl with wavy blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes crosses her path and Sigurd calls her name "Margarethe."
She turns around and when she sees him she tenses, but approaches him with her head bowed.
"I haven't seen you in a while." Sigurd says, his tone amicable, and when the girl looks up, she smiles slightly, Sigurd blushes, and Mary swoons at the adorableness of it all.
"Lagertha has asked all the slaves to come and help her with the moat." She tells them, and then her eyes fall on Mary. She musters her curiously, but with none of the hostility that the others seem to carry.
"I will not distract you any longer then." Sigurd says "This is Mary. Ivar brough her from England, but she doesn't know a lot." He explains. Mary frowns at the words. I know more than you, mullet boy, she thinks with a huff.
"We were thinking that you might be able to teach her some things when you have time."
Margarethe's eyes widen, and there is a flicker of fear.
"She's Ivar's-" she asks surprised, but then shakes her head "Of course I will help."
When she looks at Mary again, her face is so full of pity that Mary can't help but feel like there is more to the story. Man, the more she found out about Ivar, the worse his reputation got.
They said their goodbyes and as they walk down the steep path that leads towards the slave houses Sigurd explains "Margarethe used to be out slave, when our mother was still queen. All of us got together with her at one point or another, but I think she preferred me to my brothers." He says with a smile.
There is no doubt in what he means with get together.
Mary doesn't want to be insensitive, but her curiosity gets the better of her.
"All of you? Even...?" she doesn't finish her question, but Sigurd knows exactly what she means.
"Even Ivar. We had to bring her to his bed of course; but how else is someone like him supposed to ever be with a woman." His voice is light and even though his words are not meant as an insult, Mary glares at him.
They reach the slave house and Sigurd presents her to Inga, a woman a few years older than Mary who takes her by the hand and leads her further into the house.
Inga makes Mary bathe in ice cold water and washes her hair with something that is decidedly not shampoo, but leaves her hair mostly intact. Inga also teaches Mary about chest bindings, oddly enough, more comfortable than a bra, and shakes her head at the pants.
"It is for men." She says, but Mary doesn't want to take them off. Dressed are cold and she keeps getting mud on the hem and after much back-and-forth Inga tries to argue that, if Mary wants one of the Viking men to take her as a wife, she has to appeal to their tastes.
"I don't care." Mary had shouted, and finally Inga had relented. She still made a tartly remark about the size of Mary's shirt but it really wasn't that bad. It was a little tight around her chest, but that was it. Inga still insisted on at least showing Mary how to properly put on a dress and then send her out with the orders of buying another tunic, a long-sleeved shirt, and brooches to keep the dress from falling of her shoulders.
Mary promises to do all of that, thanking Inga (the girl was strict, but Mary was finally clean and dressed properly) and then quickly making her way back into town. At first she wants to head back to the room where she had slept, but when she finds it empty, she sighs and head towards the woods.