Chapter Thirty-nine

"You should stay with me when Hilda leaves, Freya. I'll keep you safe."

Enid looked up from her seat outside the barn, watching the two children stare at each other. Enid couldn't help it, she felt that crease line her forehead as she studied the boy, felt that caution and that wariness grip her spine, but Freya said nothing, only tilting her head to the side, her eyes never leaving the boy's face.

"Why would she need you to protect her?" another voice asked, no trace of his usual warmth, no smile on his lips as he paced towards them, his axe resting across his shoulders, his eyes fixed on the other boy and the boy snorted, turning to spit on the ground.

"I wasn't talking to you, Tyr," he said.

"But I was talking to you, Thor," Tyr said, coming in close, knocking into Thor's chest and glaring at him.

Enid went to stop them, not wanting Tyr to get hurt again, her stomach cold and uneasy, but then she felt that hand grip her wrist, turning to see Ivar shake his head and lean back against the barn, those sky-blue eyes never blinking as he watched them, his hands rubbing oil with a cloth along the head of his axe, his lips a thin, tight line.

Thor laughed, jerking his head suddenly towards Tyr's face and aiming a blow to his injured side and Tyr gasped, doubling over and wheezing. Enid wanted to race to him then, to pull him away and keep Thor from hurting him, but that hand reached out again, grabbing her wrist and holding her there.

Then Thor stopped laughing, falling suddenly to the floor with his face covered in blood and his hands reaching for his nose. Freya was standing behind Tyr, the butt of her axe still raised in the air as Tyr laughed and laughed, slapping his legs with the palms of his hands before he wrapped his arm around his sister's shoulders and leaned against her.

"Why don't you ask her to protect you, Thor," he said. "But I wouldn't. I don't think she likes you very much."

Enid heard Ivar grunt beside her, leaning back against the barn with a small smile on his lips and she heard someone else laughing too, softly at first but getting louder as she came closer.

"Slave," Hilda said, handing Frigga over to her. "We'll be going now, Ivar. I'll keep him safe, don't worry," she nodded. "The children don't need any help around here. They all know what to do so you stay with Ivar, slave, and make sure he gets better."

Enid looked up at her, not knowing what to say, only nodding and holding Frigga close and for a moment longer Hilda said nothing, only staring at Enid before she looked away to watch Tyr and Freya.

"The children said you saved them," Hilda said, turning to look back. "There's a chest in the house with my old clothes, Freya knows where it is. Take what you need, those English clothes won't keep you warm in the winter."

Enid stared up at her, not trusting her voice to not give out on her but nodding and saying, "Thank you."

Hilda stared back, her eyes unblinking, her head tilting towards the children.

"Tyr!" she shouted. "We're leaving."

Tyr laughed one more time at Thor before he grabbed Freya by the wrist and dragged her over to the barn and when he let go he reached for Enid's head, ruffling her hair with his fingers and kissing the top of it.

"Don't do anything stupid, Enid the Pot Breaker," he said, and Enid pushed his hand away, opening her mouth to speak, but Ivar got there first, grabbing the boy's wrist and pulling him into his lap, wincing as his face went pale and tight but still he held on.

"Don't let the Jarl confuse you," Ivar said. "Remember what's important and listen to your Aunt Hilda."

"I will, far," Tyr said, his voice soft and quiet.

Ivar pushed on the back of his head, kicking him off his lap and growling, "And don't do anything stupid!"

A long while later and Enid watched Thor go round the field again, this time taking two new children with him and barking out orders to others. He was tall, much taller than the other children, his voice already quite deep and low.

"How many children does she have?" she asked.

"Four, but she takes in other shieldmaiden's children if they have nowhere else to go," Ivar said, his face scrunching up in a tight scowl as they sat there. "I don't know how many she has now… too many."

"They seem to be doing alright."

Ivar grunted, wincing as he leaned back against the barn and stretched out his foot, twirling one of those antlers between his fingers, his eyes staring out across the field, blank and distant.

"What are they for?" Enid asked, and he looked at her, those eyes suddenly sharp and cold, but then they fell, resting on that antler between his fingers and he lifted it.

"She carved these runes," he said, trailing his fingers across them. "To ask the gods to heal me."

Enid stared at them, a warmth gripping her stomach, a soft smile springing to her lips. "She must have been up all night," she said.

"Probably."

"'Nig…" Frigga mumbled in her sleep, pulling on Enid's dress.

"Hhmm, what is it, Little Frigga?" she asked, wrapping the girl tighter in her cloak and holding her close, but that was all Frigga said before she fell back asleep, her face soft, her cheeks pink and rosy.

Enid ran her fingers over those cheeks, rubbing her little nose and laughing to herself, and then she saw her, that girl not much older than Frigga, standing in the field with her hand in her mouth and her eyes fixed on Frigga as Ivar sat forward, holding his hand out to her and waving her over.

"Helga," he said, and Enid looked at her closer, seeing that bright blonde hair and that curve of her cheeks as the little girl walked over, her eyes flicking between Ivar's face and Frigga's "Here," he said, pulling her onto his lap so she could see. "Do you remember your cousin, Helga?" he asked, and Helga looked up at him, that hand still stuck in her mouth, but she said nothing. "What?" Ivar asked. "Don't you remember your Uncle Ivar? Stop that," he said, pulling her hand from her mouth. "Don't you know how to speak yet?"

She stared at him for a moment longer before that hand went back and she leaned forward, pointing her little finger at Frigga, poking the bundle of Enid's cloak and smiling.

"This is Frigga," Enid said, coming closer so the girl could reach.

"'Rigga," she said.

"And what's your name?" Enid asked.

"Helga."

It was the strangest thing, just to hear that name seemed to prick at Enid's heart, like it somehow had a weight and a strength to it. She looked at Helga again, knowing for sure now that there was not much difference between her and Frigga and she must have been born not long before Helga had died. Maybe Helga had already been sick at the time, maybe they'd already known she was dying. Enid felt Frigga stirring, pushing her arms out from the cape and trying to sit up.

"'Nig."

"Look, Frigga, it's your cousin," she said, and Frigga rubbed her eyes, sighing and huffing to herself as she leaned against Enid's chest.

"Frigga," Helga said, poking at Frigga's leg and Frigga watched her for a moment, sighing and yawning again, and then she still.

They looked so much alike, seeing them then anyone would have thought they were sisters, even the way they stared at each other was the same and so were those smiles and their laughs.

"This is Helga," Enid told her.

"Helga!" Frigga laughed, poking Helga's foot.

"Frigga!" Helga poked back, and that was it, then they were scrambling from their laps and running through the field, laughing big, loud laughs that sometimes went shrill.

Enid leaned back against the barn, wrapping herself in her cloak and watching them play. She couldn't help it, to see Frigga laughing like that, to see her cheeks red and that light in her eyes filled Enid with warmth. It had a smile curling at her lips and a laugh of her own rumbling in her chest, and then they came back, Frigga grabbing onto Enid's legs and Helga to Ivar's.

Ivar reached a hand out, brushing at the back of Helga's head and running her braids through his fingers, and Enid saw it then, that small smile on his lips, a smile that was soft, a smile that was sad.

"Helga!" Frigga poked her shoulder.

"Frigga!" Helga tried to poke back, but Frigga went running again, panting and laughing as Helga chased after her and Ivar closed his eyes, leaning back against the barn and that smile gone.

"Are you alright, Ivar?" Enid asked.

"Hmphf," he grunted.

"Does it hurt?"

"No," Ivar sighed, looking down at his chest and scowling.

"I wasn't talking about that," Enid said, and he looked at her, that light in his eyes cold and sharp, that scowl on his face growing tighter and for a moment she thought he wouldn't answer and she found herself wincing and wanting to look away.

"Yes," he whispered, and Enid did look away then, watching the girls and nodding to herself.

"I got my hair from my mother," she said. "She died a few years ago now, but… I still think about her when I see it and… it still hurts."

"Poor you," he snapped, and then he sighed, sinking further against the wall of the barn and closing his eyes as Enid stared at him, her eyes big and wide, her heart stinging like it had been whipped.

"It helps though… to talk about her. And it helps me with the children. They know that I understand them and that I know that sometimes somethings just bring it all back."

For a long while he didn't answer, so long she almost thought he had fallen asleep, and then those eyes flicked open, staring out across the field at something far off and distant.

"It was Frigga," he said, his voice hoarse and strained. "It was a hard birth and she never recovered. Helga was always a bit weaker, but… we thought she was getting better and then…" he shrugged, sitting up straight and wincing. "Helga was named after her and then the gods took her a week later," he said, and Enid felt those tears that running down her cheeks, wiping them away and hiding in her cloak for a moment. "Why are you crying?" he asked.

"I don't know," she shook her head, dropping her cloak and sighing "It's just sad, isn't it?" she asked, but then she turned to him, smiling softly and nodding. "But it's also beautiful. Look how many lives have changed just because of her. And she made you all so happy that you miss her this much now that she's gone. I think that's all you can hope for, to mean so much to the people in your life that they don't want you to go," she nodded again. "That's a good life."