Battle on your mind
The journey is long and strenuous and Mary stays huddled against the back of the ship for almost the entire time.
She has Tanaruz at her side, who she involves into long discussions in the hope of avoiding the other men and women on the boat. Bjorn tries to talk to her, tries to apologize, but Mary's hand is still aching and she just shakes her head at him.
His face hardens at that and he doesn't approach them anymore. Floki is on the boat with them, either praying to the gods or pacing the vessel like a wild animal in a cage. He is a commander, will be leading his own share of Vikings, so he doesn't have to row and instead he navigates. He tells them when so set sail, when to fall back, and when to row.
When the coastline appears on the horizon, Mary's heart flutters in joy and constricts in fear.
Land.
War.
The first boats to reach the shore deploy several small groups of warriors to find and eradicate any enemy nearby. When they come back, some bloody, some not, the army docks.
Mary climbs from the boat onto the wet sand, happy to finally have solid ground under hear feet.
She watches the movement around her. People carrying sacks of grain, unloading weapons and equipment, coaxing goats and sheep off the ships. They are efficient and quick and while Mary can see the Chariot further down the beach, she cannot make her way through the people before it disappears from her view. When Bjorn finds her again, he tells her to stay close. The warriors who have joined them are allies but not friends and she should be careful to walk away from the people of Kattegat. She follows him into the woods and he shows her to a tent that is supposed to be hers. Its small and cramped, the ground is wet from recent rains and the cot is dirty, but she just bows her head and thanks him. She has seen people with barely more than a rain cover so this is almost luxury. Tanaruz, who is supposed to be staying with Helga and Floki, quickly finds her and lays out a fur beside the cot. When Mary asks why she is here, her cheeks turn red and she stammers nonsense until finally choking out "They are in love."
An odd description of sex, but Mary understands then. Well, they have been stuck in a small cot with two houseguests for over a month now. She cannot really blame them. God knows she would be up to similar things if she could find him.
But whenever she heads out and tries to make her way through camp, she is stepped on or almost hit in the head with whatever ridiculously big thing the people are carrying.
A while later, the flap of her tent is open and a young woman steps in. Mary, in the middle of teaching Tanaruz Miss Mary Mack, looks up in surprise.
"Can I help you?"
The woman nervously wrings her hands before nodding.
"My husband, he will be going into battle tomorrow. Its his first time fighting and I wanted to know if you can see anything in his future." She says and then adds, her voice wavering "Is he going to survive?"
Mary's hands lower slowly and her face softens. Standing up, she takes the girls hands in her own "I am sorry. I cannot see what will happen tomorrow. The plans are made and now we will have to wait what the gods decide."
The girl nods her head and Mary's heart breaks "Your people- our people- are great warriors. The plans have been made by men who are experienced" Bjorn "Careful" Ubbe "And smart" Ivar.
She smiles at Mary, clearly still distraught but at least somehow comforted. "Thank you."
Once the sun starts setting, Mary opens her tent and she and Tanaruz sit in the entrance, listening to the people around them. She had known that the plan was to surprise the king, but when she hears that the attack is supposed to happen the next morning already, Mary draws her knees up to her chest.
The forest lights up once the sun sets and Mary cannot help but be amazed at the thousands of little fires and candles. A fire hazard for sure, but truly breath taking.
Even though she hopes that maybe one of the brothers stumble across them, or maybe come looking for them, it's Floki who finds them. His tall, lanky figure appears out of the shadows and he falls right at their feet, stretching out like he doesn't have a care in the world.
"Look at your glum faces. You'd think someone died." He says and then grins widely "Or maybe like someone is going to die."
When Mary doesn't laugh it his joke he just shrugs.
"You will have to get used to it. There will be more battles and worrying does no one any good."
Mary groans at his words.
"How do you do it? How does Helga do it? I feel like I might throw up." Mary tells him honestly. The knots in her stomach won't even let her eat.
"We plan, we pray, we say our goodbyes. And once we are back, we show our wives just how much we have missed them." He says and smirks suggestively before asking "Speaking of. Have you found your cripple yet?"
Mary glares, even though she knows that Floki's words aren't supposed to insult. From what she has gathered him and Ivar are actually quite close. Two outsiders with brilliant minds, and a habit of freaking people out.
But then she shakes her head and pick at the leaves stuck to her shoes.
"I'm sure you will catch him tomorrow morning." Floki says in in an unusual show of empathy.
"For tonight they are probably off killing one another or cornering a servant girl."
"Great." Mary sighs and he pats her knee.
"Don't worry. Your is probably doing the first one."
Maybe it's the long journey, or maybe the worry, but Mary actually laughs at that.
"Oh god. We are gonna have to deal with that." She says and Floki nods in agreement.
"Let them fight, kill a few people and hopefully afterwards they can stop bickering like small children."
What a nice thought. Unlikely, but nice.
Floki leaves them alone after that, but Mary doesn't move form her place on the ground, not even when the night turns cold.
Maybe there has been a dramatic change in weather while they were on the sea, or maybe it's just the famously bad weather of England, but the place is cold. Not even just cold, but clammy. Everything seems moist, and the wind settles in Mary's bones.
"Are you worried?" Tanaruz asks when she finally closes the tent.
"Very." Mary answers truthfully.
"Would you like to pray with me?" Tanaruz offers and Mary nods.
Her usefulness has run out. She has told them everything she could, and now all she can do is wait. They kneel on the floor, ignoring the cold earth and the dirt sticking to their skin and they pray. At first, Mary simply joins Tanaruz. Then she prays to God. Then to Odin, and then to Subrahmanya.
If it is truly in the gods hands, then hopefully one of them will be listening. She prays for Ivar and Ubbe and Floki. She prays for Hvitserk, Tofi, and Asdis. She even prays for Bjorn, Sigurd and the young girls new husband.
When she has run out of deities, and she lies down on the cot and stares at the ceiling for the rest of the night. She tries not to think about the battle, or the death, or the possibilities of someone not making it home. She spends the entire night trying hard not to think about any of it.
And then, when the birds start singing and the people start waking, she finally, finally spots a familiar head. She follows him like a man follows a fata morgana, watching his head move away from her as she scrambles to keep up. But while people make space for him, she has to squeeze herself between them. Had she been in usual attire of shawls, maybe they would have, but today she is wearing a heavy cloak over her dresses, hiding the painted skin and colourful dress. Her feet slip on the ground, she bumps her knees on branches and stones, and her skirt gets stuck on wayward bushes and thorns, but she doesn't care. She rips the hem, she gets back on her feet, and when she finally draws close she shouts his name "Ubbe."
Mary collides with his back, making him stumble and jolt in surprise, but then she wraps her arms around him and squeezes. It's probably not very appropriate. He is probably embarrassed. She doesn't care.
She presses her forehead against his back and she can feel him laugh.
"Mary." He says, trying to get her attention "Mary, let go of me."
She shakes her head.
"If I don't let go, you can't go." She mumbles stubbornly.
"You would be giving our enemies an unfair advantage." A new voice says, clearly amused and when she looks up, she sees Bjorn standing beside his brother. And then she looks around and she sees Hvitserk, and then Sigurd. And then her eyes settle on Ivar.
He is sitting on the back of his chariot and Mary lets go of Ubbe.
The brothers are sitting in front of several bright tents, much larger than any around them and Mary doesn't know how she could have missed them the day before.
They are dressed for battle, in dark leather and with long braids in their hair, Swords and axes hang at their side, shields are propped against the feet and as she looks around, she can tell with total and complete honesty, that they look terrifying.
A horn sounds and they look up. People around them start gathering their things and heading towards the edge of the trees and suddenly Mary's heart is beating loudly in her ears.
This is it. They will go and they fill fight.
No, she wants to scream, I just got you back. You can't leave yet.
But she sees the sombre determination in their eyes.
She takes Ubbe's face in her hands and pulls him down. Its almost comical, making the large men bend over at the will of the small girl, but her grip is hard and just as determined as the man around her.
"Come back. Do you hear me? Come back." she says urgently and he smirks.
"I though you are a Seer. Shouldn't you know the answer?" he asks.
Mary nods.
"Yes. Yes, and you will make it back. And so will you." She says to Sigurd, and then turns to the others "And you, and you, and you. You will all make it back and don't you dare make me a liar." She demands, but her voice is quivering.
Ubbe gently pats her head as he walks past her but doesn't say anything. Neither do the others.
And then there is only Ivar. He hasn't moved from his position yet, a helmet propped under his arms, as he looks at her intensely. His hair is braided, she notices. It looks nice.
And then she is running towards him and she throws her arms around his neck and hugs him, burrowing her face in his shoulder. He makes a dismissive sound, but wraps his arms around her.
"Come back. Please, come back." She whispers in his ear.
"You don't think I will survive battle?" he asks mockingly and she wants to laugh and scream at the challenge in his voice.
She pulls back and looks him in the eyes.
"I think you will survive us all."
She hasn't seen him in so long. She wants to kiss him, wants to yell at him, wants to climb in his lap. But she doesn't do any of those things. She just leans her forehead against his and hopes that it won't be the last time.
Because it is not Ivar the Boneless leading the Great Heathen Army, but Bjorn Ironside, and now everything is up in air.
She doesn't kiss him and he doesn't kiss her and when he pulls himself up on the chariot and she watches him ride away, she thinks she might be sick.