Chapter Twenty-eight

Three days, three days had gone by now, filled with that strange sense of normality and that hollow emptiness. Somehow each day was easier. Somehow each day seemed to drag by slower and slower, like the life was being drained from her, like she was slowly bleeding out.

Freya was herding the animals in for the night, Enid still standing by the front door when they suddenly both froze. A few moments later and there was no mistaking the thunder of hooves further down the path. Enid found herself reaching forward, holding one hand to her chest and the other to the doorframe to stop herself from falling, but Freya was watching the path, her eyes unblinking, one hand reaching behind the door to grab her axe and she kept it there, hidden behind the wall. Seeing that chilled Enid, making her heart leap to her throat and begin to choke her, but there was no mistaking those shoulders when he appeared through the trees, no mistaking that scowl on his face or that axe tied to his belt. Enid grabbed Frigga then, following Freya out to the yard and scanning the faces in front of her, not seeing Tyr anywhere.

She felt like her stomach had been ripped out of her and thrown to the floor as she held onto Frigga tightly, desperately praying to whichever god that would listen that the next face she saw would be his, and then their eyes met and she had to stifle a gasp. Enid had to stop herself from racing and grabbing him then and there when Tyr smiled, riding his horse into the yard and sliding off it like nothing had happened, but Enid saw that gash on his cheek, that blood, thick and dried and caked all over that cut.

"What happened, Tyr?" she asked, reaching for him.

"Nothing," Tyr said, jerking his cheek free, and for a moment her heart sank and she feared that his warmth was gone and it was never coming back.

"He fell off his horse," Ivar said, and Freya laughed, big and loud and wrapped her arm around Tyr's shoulder, his face turning bright red, so red his ears seemed to be burning and Enid had to stop herself from laughing too.

"Shut up, Freya," he snapped.

"Did you think you'd make it to Valhalla if you died falling off a horse?" Freya asked, dragging him inside and Enid did laugh then, a laugh that soft and warm, a laugh that was to herself.

"Far!" Frigga said, holding out her arms to Ivar and Enid almost handed her over, she almost smiled and welcomed him back, but then she saw that scowl on his face and she watched him jerk his head towards the door, and she went through it without saying a word.

"Is everything alright, Ivar?" she asked, when he'd closed it behind them.

"Yes," he grunted, and finally that scowl softened as he reached for Frigga and held her close. "It's fine, Enid," he said, "Anything happen here?"

"No," she answered.

"Good."

That was all he said before he sat by the fire, watching as Tyr and Freya half-wrestled, half-embraced each other in turns, and for a moment Enid almost asked him again, she almost found herself wanting to kneel down beside him and ask him what was wrong, but then she heard, "How many did you get?"

"Two," Tyr said, a sly smirk on his face as he rested on his elbows and Enid almost gasped, she almost fell to her knees and cried then and there. "It wasn't a real fight, though," Tyr went on before she could. "I was behind them, they never even knew I was there."

"That's nothing to be ashamed of, Tyr," Ivar said. "They're dead and you're not. Remember how easy it was and don't make the same mistakes they did."

She watched the boy so closely, looking for any trace of darkness, searching and hoping she would be able to root out any evil that might have taken hold of him, but he was the same. He only smiled, sitting there all warm and soft and just as happy as he'd been before, so she sighed then, coming to sit by the fire and staring into the flames.

It wasn't that different to life in England. Boys as young as Tyr had been drafted by this Lord or another and made to fight for the King countless times before. Thinking of that somehow made it easier, thinking of that somehow drilled a hole into her heart and shifted the earth beneath her feet.

"Enid is going to make you hunt all winter, Ivar," Freya said.

"What?" Ivar asked.

"The river's too cold for her feet," Freya smirked. "How did you find the only delicate woman in England?"

"Freya!" Enid gasped, and Freya sat back then, her eyes flicking between their faces, her smirk turning into a grin.

"Honestly," she sighed. "I've never seen anyone so fragile. Did you know she was going to be rich and marry a blacksmith?"

"That's enough, Freya, stop-," Enid started.

"A blacksmith?" Tyr cut in. "I bet he had big arms then, right Enid?" Tyr said, spreading his own out and looking at her. "That must have made you very happy."

She felt her cheeks burning, the room suddenly blazing with heat as she stared at Tyr. "So what?" Enid said, narrowing her eyes and desperately trying to think of something else to say. "There's nothing wrong with-,"

"So it did make you happy!" Tyr cut in, laughing and leaning forward to stare at her. "Did you ever see him naked, Enid?"

"Tyr!" Enid gasped, and Tyr laughed again, grabbing his sides, his cheeks going red, and then Enid went for the pail, wringing out a wet cloth and grabbing him by the front of his shirt.

"Ow, not so hard, Enid," he said, trying to jerk himself free as she cleaned that gash on his cheek, but she heard it then, that soft laugh from behind her, the one that was more like a rumble of thunder and was rich and earthy.

Enid turned, seeing Ivar leaning against the table and rubbing Frigga's back as he watched them and she almost smiled back, almost found herself laughing too, but then she felt it, that head resting up against her stomach, and she turned back, running her hands through that bundle of braids along the top of Tyr's head and sighing.

She didn't feel it now, that horrible emptiness, that feeling like she somehow floated above the ground and didn't actually touch it, just to be here in this room with them was enough. It somehow lifted her heart. It somehow filled her chest so much she felt like it was about to burst with happiness and tears all at once.