Chapter 16

It was not long before Thorvard's hands were crimsoned with his enemy's blood.

Though Thorvard had always been merciless with his enemies, he never derived particular pleasure from taking someone else's life - but this time it was different. He stood aside and watched almost gleefully how the blood of his enemy's life is trickling down to the ground, and made no motion when the dying man begged for the stroke of mercy. He let Einarson suffer slowly until he died. He felt as if his heart was made of stone.

When the body was brought before the sight of all, even experienced warriors looked on fearfully and took a step back. Behind him, he heard a retching noise and receding footsteps - that, without a doubt, was Dalla.

Freydis moved forward and looked at the mutilated features of the one who had ruined her. Then her eyes met Thorvard's. His face was inscrutable, and he was covered with blood, his enemy's and - as far as she could judge by the numerous wounds covering his arms and chest - his own as well.

"I killed him," he said, and added nothing, for explanations weren't needed.

"I thank you," she said simply. She did not know what she was supposed to feel. The fear she had been feeling ever since that terrible night was gone, but in its stead there was an empty space, a gap she did not know how to fill. Her revenge was fulfilled, and she no longer felt anger, desire to fight, lust for revenge - nothing of what had propelled her forward in the past years. It was as if something had crumbled to dust within her, and nothing but an empty shell was left.

All of a sudden, it seemed as if Thorvard had lost its balance. He leaned hastily against a wall, but people around him already noticed, and concerned whispers broke out all over.

"Thorvard?" Stein said uneasily. "Thorvard, what is it?"

"It... is nothing," Thorvard said with great difficulty. "These wounds are a trifle, I... I just need to rest, and it will pass soon."

But it did not pass. The next moment, Thorvard lost power of speech and collapsed, completely unconscious. His eyes rolled in his head. Brunhild screamed. People ran to him, supported him, lifted him up, talked to him, but all in vain.

With great urgency and greated determination than she would have expected of herself, Freydis pushed everyone aside and looked at his wounds. They did not look grave enough to justify such a collapse, but they could have allowed for poisoning... Svein Einarson was clever and shrewd enough in his bestial way, much cleverer than people usually gave him credit for. She looked around her frantically.

"I need someone with knowledge of herb-lore!" she cried desperately.

An old crone, bent and wrinkled but surprisingly agile, stepped forward. "I might be able to help you, child," she said, and her wrinkled brow creased more still when she looked at Thorvard, lying motionless upon the ground. "Perhaps we might help him together... because I doubt there is much I can do on my own."

"Show me everything you have," said Freydis with a power and confidence she had not felt ever since the night when she was rescued by Thorvard.

She went with the old woman, and while she walked, she gathered within her the remainder of the powers she had left, the little that was returned to her now that her revenge was complete, and prayed for one thing alone - a last spell that would help her save the father of her daughter.

Later that night, when Freydis approached the still unsconcious Thorvard with a smoking goblet in hand, she was shaking from head to foot. If there had been a mistake, she knew it was one that would cost her more dearly than any she had made before.

"One moment," she was stopped by the sharp voice of Brunhild just as she bent gingerly above Thorvard and supported his head.

Freydis looked at her with puzzled anger. "There is not a moment to lose," she said.

"If Thorvard comes to harm from this grisly concoction," said Brunhild, "you shall be responsible."

"Comes to harm?" Freydis laughed hollowly. "More than he already had, you mean? I can guess which poison Svein Einarson used. Thorvard will not live to see sunrise. The potion I prepared is his only chance."

"He was not supposed to go and confront Einarson on his own," Ulf joined his wife, and his voice was heavy like a shower of stones. "If he dies because of you, you will die with him."

Freydis straightened and gave them both a contemptuous look. "Let it be so," she said indifferently.

She bent over Thorvard again, lifted his head up a little, and pried his mouth open with the help of two fingers. Then she helped him swallow some of the potion. He coughed and moaned. Another swallow, and he opened his eyes. Freydis's hands were shaking so hard that she almost spilled the rest of the liquid in the goblet, but Thorvard was able to take it out of her hands and drink the rest on his own.

"You saved my life," he said in a weak voice.

"I did not wish to owe you," replied Freydis with self-control that had cost her a great effort.