Chapter Twenty-four

It was easier the next morning, her heart a little lighter though her mind was still tired and troubled as she cut the weeds in the yard. Some part of her was still reeling from all of Freya's questions, from the way Freya had laughed at her and the thought of Tyr and Ivar seeing her in that basin, but some part of her felt strangely free. Nothing had changed between them. Tyr still smiled and teased her just the same as before and Ivar, well, Ivar still hated her.

Maybe it wasn't a sin. Maybe the sin was in the mind of those who twisted and turned something innocent into something darker. She thought on that a moment, feeling a lightness grip her, feeling a smile almost curling at her lips, but then she shook her head. It didn't make any sense. Surely to do what she'd done last night was to give into temptation. Surely she had made a mistake.

She heard boots scuffing in the dirt behind her then and she turned, seeing those sky-blue eyes glaring down at her and for a moment she almost looked away, she almost muttered something under her breath and cursed him, but then he said, "Get up."

"Why?"

"Here.," he said, holding out a small axe for chopping wood. "You learn how to use this and you listen to whatever Freya says if the time comes."

She stared at him, her eyes flicking between the axe in his hand and his face. "I still don't want her to fight, Ivar," she said.

"This isn't a discussion, Enid."

So slowly her fingers reached for that axe, so heavy it felt in her hand and she wasn't sure that she could really use this on another person or if she could really fight and kill alongside a child. She almost gave it back to him, she almost shook her head and ran away, but then she clutched at that axe harder and looked him in the eyes.

"So what do I do?" she asked, and Ivar sighed, jerking his head towards the back yard without saying a word.

"Take this too," he said when they got there, holding out a round shield and grabbing her arm.

His fingers were so strong. They hurt as he pulled her arm through the leather straps and showed her where to grip the shield, but this time she wouldn't be afraid of that darkness in his eyes, this time she wasn't helpless and surrounded by strangers on a boat.

"You have to keep it raised," he said. "And you keep it for as long as you can, but if you have to choose, you choose the axe. Let's go. Swing your arm like this."

He showed her with his own axe, still polished and shining bright in the autumn sun, and she followed him, swinging her arm out in front, already feeling an ache take hold in both of her arms.

"No, it's not just your arm. You have to use here as well," he said, pressing a hand into her stomach, and some part of her wanted to pull away, to push at that hand and scream, but a bigger part of her was happy that he was actually teaching her, so she gritted her teeth, twisting and arching her arm so that she felt the muscles in her side twinge and ache. "Better," he grunted. "You keep that shield raised and you stand to the right of Freya. You protect her with your shield so don't let it drop, you understand?"

"Yes," she nodded, staring up at him.

"Good," he said. "She's good and she's brave, but she's not strong, Enid. You listen to whatever she tells you and you make sure she gets out if something happens."

"I will, Ivar," she said, and he stared at her for a long moment, his eyes travelling her face and lingering on her cheeks, and then he stood in front of her, raising his axe and nodding to her.

"Again," he said, and she swung at him, gritting her teeth and feeling something burning in the pit of her stomach.

Suddenly she saw him, standing there in front of the church, those sky-blue eyes surrounded by a sea of red and for a moment she was right back there with him and all she wanted to do was cover her ears and scream, but then she felt the bite of her shield crashing into her lip and she fell back in the sand with a loud hiss and dropped her axe. He towered over her then, just like he had that day, his axe gripped so tightly in his hands.

"Cut it out," he said. "No one cares if you're scared. You hesitate and you're dead."

She stared up at him, knowing what he said was true, but not knowing if she could find her voice to answer him so she nodded, reaching up to wipe the blood from her lips and watching one hand let go of his axe as he bent over and held it out for her to take. Her eyes lingered on that hand, a hand that had torn her away from everything, a hand that still controlled everything in her life, and she wanted to spit on it, to brush it to the side as she had seen Freya do before, but she couldn't. Some part of this made her happy. Some part of this made her feel like something was finally within her control, so she reached for it, feeling his warm fingers wrap around her wrist and pull her up.

When she looked at him then, it was like she was seeing for the first time, like the sun had finally broken through the clouds and ended some long and terrible night. She could do this. She would do this to help those children, and then she smiled and raised her shield.