God's Daughter (Vikings of the New World Saga) by Gilbert Heather Day

Author:Gilbert, Heather Day [Gilbert, Heather Day]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Heather Day Gilbert
Published: 2013-10-29T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Three

Freydis sits on the cold rock floor of the cave, unwilling to go back to camp. But Ref has determined to get her there, and he’ll carry her the entire way if he has to. I’ve never seen this small man stand up to his hot-headed wife before. He’s more Viking than I thought.

While Ref gathers Freydis’ few things, Snorri and I rip up more clothing to wrap around Suka’s stomach. He’s lost so much blood, I don’t know how his heart still beats. His eyes are closed, but his chest continues moving, if only slightly. It’s selfish, but I hate that Suka’s death would mean we’d lose another defender of the camp.

Snorri finally convinces Ref to help carry Suka back to camp on a blanket held between them. I’m to stay with Freydis until they come back. Ref’s clenched jaw and tensed back show that he’d rather drop Suka to the ground and watch him bleed out. However, he wouldn’t go against Snorri, undermining Thorfinn Karlsefni’s commands.

I wrap my arms around myself to fight the chill, wishing for my soft shawl. In the back of the cave, I find another blanket, so I wrap it around Freydis’ bony shoulders before I go about starting a fire. At least Suka has provided her with firewood. As I rummage about for kindling, it becomes evident Suka has been sleeping here. There are two mats, padded with leaves and blankets. They’re so close together, they might as well be one. I don’t think Ref has noticed this yet. I consider hauling out the leaves from one mat, but instead, decide to burn them.

I bring Freydis closer to the fire, growing hot with the leaves I threw on it. She strokes the blanket.

“What happened?”

I don’t know if she asks about her baby or the fight with Suka. But when she starts cradling the blanket, she removes any question.

“You know, Freydis. You’ve given birth to a son.”

I wait, hoping her mind will fill with the image of her child. She grips the blanket tighter.

“He was blue, wasn’t he? Gudrid, was he dead?”

“Yes, sister. You were strong in the birth. But he wasn’t healthy, even inside you. We buried him that day, in the forest. He has a runestone so you can see his place.”

“Ref?” she asks. Maybe she realizes her husband grieves, as well.

“He needs you—he’s been frantic for you.”

“I must go to him.” She awkwardly rakes her fingers through her tangled hair.

“You will. But we will clean you first.” There’s hot water in a pot over the fire, which I mix with cold water in the back of the cave. I search until I find a wool tunic that looks somewhat clean, and begin to wash her body. She hasn’t cleaned herself since the birth, so the smell is worse than a dead body. However, it hasn’t made her ill, as far as I can see. It’s only on the outside. Perhaps God used this stench to protect her from Suka, as well.

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