Chapter Fifty-seven

Enid could see them sitting at the edge of the pier, a fishing net sprawled out between them as they all worked on it with small hooks. How desperately she wanted to race to them, to have them all around her and know that they were safe, but she stepped onto the pier, a small smile on her lips, her shield tied to her back, her axe bouncing on her hip.

"'Nig!" Frigga came running, smiling and laughing as her little feet pattered against the wooden floor.

"Frigga," Enid smiled, bending down so she could catch the girl in her arms. "Did you have fun with your father?" she asked.

"Far!" Frigga pointed, and Enid laughed, walking to stand by the others and watching them work.

Ivar's eyes darted to her face, lingering almost like he was studying her, almost like he was checking for things she couldn't see, and then they flicked back to stare at the village.

"Did you learn anything?" Freya asked, and Enid wanted to turn and check that there was no one on the other end of the pier, but she bit it back, watching Ivar to see if the light in his eyes would change and warn her to stop.

"Not really," she sighed. "I don't know if it was him… All he does is train and talk about… inappropriate stuff," she finished, and Enid saw that stiffness that sprang into Ivar's face, that sudden coldness in his eyes as he grunted. "Rolf's looking for you," she added.

"He's here?" Ivar asked. "That makes sense I guess, but… Knut didn't tell me."

"Erik said he's mad at Rolf, maybe that's why."

"Maybe…" Ivar sighed, those eyes going blank and distant.

"Do you think it was Rolf?" Tyr asked, and Ivar stared at him, his head tilting to the side as he sat there, still and stiff for a long while.

"No," Ivar sighed finally. "Why would he warn Sigurd about his own attack? That doesn't make sense. And he's still my cousin."

"Did you learn anything?" Enid asked, and the children shook their heads.

"Not really," Freya said. "All Princess Gro talks about is cloth and gold and… about men," she sighed, and Enid stared at her for a moment, not knowing what to say, not knowing what to feel and then she shook her head.

"I don't think it was her," she said. "Why would she hurt her husband? And she's in danger now too."

"Maybe it was Knut's daughter," Freya said, her eyes going big and wide. "What if she doesn't want to marry Erik and move to Bergen? Gro said she would have to work hard to make her like it here and to be happy with her son."

Ivar leaned back, his eyes seemingly staring through Freya as she spoke. "It's possible," he whispered. "Maybe they're working together. Erik isn't too happy about having to marry her either."

"He's not? So why are they doing it?" Enid asked.

"It's not that simple," Ivar said. "They're bringing two families together. Gro's brother is young, but he's sick and his sons are still children. If he dies, he'll leave the throne open and Erik would have a claim to it. Knut could turn his jarldom into a kingdom by making Erik his heir and claiming the lands in his name."

Enid stared at him, something cold, something terrible gripping her chest. Were two lives really being brought together for the sake of land? Suddenly Erik's smile made more sense, suddenly she realised that he had no love for his future wife and Enid didn't know what to think then. She didn't know if it was pity she felt for him then or just sadness.

"Does Erik want that?" she asked, her voice so soft it was barely above a whisper.

"I don't know," Ivar shook his head. "I have a hard time understanding him. He's too much like Gro."

"Like Gro?"

Ivar nodded, that hook hanging in the air above the net as he stared out towards the village and then his eyes flicked back to her.

"You don't see it?" he asked, his head tilting to the side. "Think about it, what do you know about either of them really? They never talk about themselves. They never say what they want or what they're thinking. They always just talk about other people or… stupid things."