Chapter Eleven

The door flew open, booming and banging against the wall as Tyr bounded into the room. He was laughing, his cheeks bright pink, his face dripping with sweat, his clothes and skin just as dirty as they had been before. Enid studied him, biting back her harsh remarks, keeping herself small and quiet because his father was with him, patting the boy on his shoulder and holding Frigga to his chest. Without a word Ivar handed the child to her, without even a glance in her direction he sat down at the fire and took a big gulp of water with a cup from the pail.

His skin was glistening too. He had patches of dirt and sand wiped across his face and his clothes just like Freya had had before. Enid almost found herself asking what they had been doing, but then he grunted, his voice cutting through the room like a rumble of thunder.

"Mad," he said, and he was looking at her then, those eyes cold and unblinking. "Food," he said again, and she stood so quickly, pouring scoops of stew into bowls and handing them to them. "Freya," he shouted before saying something else.

The girl climbed down from the loft, her clothes then clean, her hair in fresh, neat braids. Ivar stared at her for a moment, a small smile breaking out on his lips before he jerked his head towards Enid and pointed back to the girl. Enid made her a bowl, handing it to Freya with a smile, but the girl only took it and sat with the others without saying a word. There was no doubt about it now, something had changed, something had shifted between them and the girl who had laughed in the morning was long gone.

Enid watched her, a sadness making her chest heavy and hurt. Enid had been happy, she realised that now, she understood that to see that girl smiling had touched her without her ever knowing. She felt Frigga stirring in her lap, looking up at her and stroking her hair, and then Frigga laughed, taking the spoon from Enid's bowl and sucking on the stew and Enid sighed, knowing that at least Frigga was still the same.

They were finished in no time at all, even though they chatted and talked all through their meal. Then Tyr said something to Ivar, something that made Freya laugh and cover her mouth again. Ivar stared at him, those eyes unblinking, his face blank and soft, but then he grabbed the boy, holding him to his chest and burying his head under his arm. Enid felt her mouth go dry, her heart racing as she reached to tear the boy free, but then she heard Freya laughing, heard Tyr slapping his father's arm and pulling his head free.

Ivar stood then, lifting off his vest and kicking off his trousers as he headed for the basin and Enid felt that heat that rose to her cheeks and that cold jolt that chilled her stomach. She held Frigga close, gathering her up in her arms as she went to leave, but Freya stopped her, taking the bowl from her hand and nodding to the pail by the fire.

Enid wanted to tell her that she couldn't stay to help Ivar, that it was wrong and it was a sin to even look at him, but suddenly she had no voice. Soon Freya was gone to do the washing, soon Tyr had gone to collect the animals in for the night, soon she had no friend left aside from Little Frigga.

So slowly Enid put the girl down by the fire, so slowly she reached for that pail and made her way over to the basin. Ivar was scrubbing the dirt from his fingers, his face scrunched up in a tight scowl as he concentrated on his work and Little Frigga held onto the side of the basin, smiling and dancing beside her father. Ivar watched her then, that light in his eyes soft and warm, but then he untied his braids and jerked his head towards the pail.

Enid couldn't do it. She couldn't throw that water over him, not when it was still cold, not when it would only make him mad and end with another whipping. She stared at him, her hands shaking, her eyes wide and bright with fear, but then he tapped his shoulders, grunting and turning to glare at her as he did. She knew then, knew that whatever she did it would all end the same, so she looked at him one last time and she gritted her teeth, deciding it was better to be punished for doing something than doing nothing at all. She threw the water over him, heard him gasping and blowing big puffs of air laced with water all over Frigga, and then she heard Frigga laughing.

"Again," Frigga said, and Ivar sank a little lower in the basin, blowing bubbles and splashing Frigga while she laughed and laughed, and Enid stifled that sigh of relief she felt building in her chest as she sat down with the comb.

His hair was so long. It caught so many times in the comb as she brushed it, but he did not seem to mind. He only played with Frigga, almost like he did not care that Enid was there, almost like he did not see her at all. And the sides of his head, she'd thought it was dirt but now that he was clean and she was sitting close she could see them, those intricate patterns, those strange symbols that coiled and snaked across his skin, just like that terrible serpent-like beast did over his shoulder. She stared at them, not knowing what she was seeing, not understanding how it was possible, and she steadied herself, gathering her courage and her strength for a moment before she reached for his hair again.

This time she made a point to brush up against them as she braided his hair, this time she knew for sure that they wouldn't wash off. She wanted to ask him how it was possible, if it was some sort of magic or even a curse, but then Frigga squealed, a big, loud

"Bap, far!" Frigga laughed, holding up her hand to stop Ivar from splashing her again. He grunted something to her, pulling on that hand to make her come even closer. "Bap, bap!"

"Stop, Frigga," he said again. "Not bap."