Chapter Thirty-three

"What happened to your cheek?" Freya asked.

"Enid," was all Tyr said, turning to smile at her from across the table.

Somehow the memory of her ripping open that gash on his face made Enid's blood turn cold. Somehow it coaxed that burning pit in her stomach to life all over again.

"Ha!" Freya laughed. "You have to train with me next!" she said, turning to stare at Enid, her spoon clutched tightly in her hand, and Enid almost found herself shaking her head, almost telling her that she was a girl and she shouldn't be fighting like the boys, but then she realised that that was anything but true.

Enid smiled then, nodding to Freya and taking a sip of broth, but Ivar sighed, leaning back on the bench and rubbing at his thighs under the table.

"What's wrong, far?" Freya asked.

"What?" Ivar said, his eyes shining bright as they suddenly focused on the girl. "Nothing…"

"It's not nothing. Why are you lying?"

"I'm not," Ivar grunted, getting to his feet and walking out of the house, and Enid watched him go, a chill settling in her stomach, an uneasiness gripping her spine as she eyed his full bowl still on the table.

She made to stand, to go out and ask him if he was alright, but then she heard Tyr say, "Leave him alone."

"Did something happen on the raid, Tyr?" Freya asked.

"No," Tyr shook his head. "Really, it didn't. We only lost a few men and we stole lots of things."

For a moment Enid was relieved and she almost found herself sighing and nodding her head, but then she caught sight of that light in Freya's eyes and how she was still staring at the door, her eyes cold and unblinking, her arms folded across her chest.

"You're lying," Freya said.

"I'm not, Freya, I swear by the gods."

Freya grunted, leaning on her elbows and saying, "You'd better not be, Tyr."

It was that threat that made Enid uneasy, that seemed to chill and stiffen every shoulder in the house and had them all sitting silently around the firepit, but they all jumped when Ivar came back, the door slamming shut behind him as he pulled up a stool and held his hands out to the flames.

"I'm going hunting tomorrow," was all he said, and Tyr nodded, shooting a sideways glance at his sister before wringing his fingers.

"We don't need the meat," Freya said.

"We'll dry it for winter."

"What are you really up to?"

"Enough!" Ivar snapped. "I don't have to explain myself to you. You are my child, not the other way round."

Enid's mouth went dry, her hands clenching into tight fists on her lap and she found herself wanting to say something, anything, that would wipe that pain from both their faces, but Freya stood, kicking her stool out of the way and climbing up the ladder without saying a word. Ivar sighed, running his hand through his braids and muttering something to himself before staring off into the fire and for a long while no one spoke, for a long while Enid wondered if she should go after Freya and calm her.

"How long will you be gone for?" Tyr asked, and Enid felt it again, that fear, that same strange weightlessness that she'd felt all the days he'd left them here alone. She wanted to shake her head, to ask him to stay and keep them all safe.

"Just the day," he answered, and she sighed, nodding and feeling that tension slip away as she stood, climbing a few steps up the ladder and poking her head through the curtain.

"Freya," Enid said, her voice soft and low. "Make sure you're down in the morning to see him off."

"Why should I?" Freya asked, turning her back to Enid and wrapping her arms around herself.

"Because he loves you and you'll both be sad if you don't."

Enid watched Freya's back, something warm brewing in her stomach, a smile desperately trying to curl at her lips that she didn't want Freya to see and it only grew bigger when she heard Freya say, "Fine."