To Save a Kingdom by Marianne Whiting

Author:Marianne Whiting
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Accent Press
Published: 2017-03-19T16:00:00+00:00

PART FIVE

“False peace with bad friends burns faster than fire

In a few days the flame goes out, all love is lost.”

Havamal

March 943

At the first sign of spring, Kirsten returned carrying a small bundle strapped to her back.

‘It’s a boy,’ she said and unwrapped the heavy shawls to reveal a strong, healthy-looking child.

‘A son to support you in your old age.’ I stroked the crop of reddish hair and felt the tug of motherhood. ‘What will you call him?’

Her voice bore no gainsay when she answered.

‘Njal.’

I should have anticipated this but it still made me gulp for air. I played with the baby’s tiny hand while I collected my thoughts.

‘Kirsten, I’m not sure that’s wise. It may well attract the attention of Mord Lambason and he will claim the baby as his grandchild but I doubt very much that he’ll want his son’s woman.’ She gave me a hard look which was so unlike her, I fell silent.

‘His son’s whore, you mean,’ she said.

By now we were surrounded by every female of the household from the old crone in charge of the cowshed to the toddler-daughter of one of the thralls. They heard her words and, sensing discord, drew back.

‘Sigrid Kveldulfsdaughter, I have thought about this. Njal is a common enough name in Norway, I shall say my son is named for my father. And I shall say he was sired by Varg.’

‘What? Varg! But Kirsten!’ Then I thought for a moment. Servants and thralls I would have had to punish as Kirsten was of higher status than any of them. That left my sworn men. Gyda would resent the smear on her marriage if we pointed to Anlaf. Hrodney wouldn’t mind – twice widowed, her marriage to Thorfinn was a matter of friendly convenience but it wouldn’t reflect well on Thorfinn.

‘I shall say I felt sorry for him. He has no family and when he dies there will be no trace of his lineage.’

She was so earnest, so calm, I was persuaded it might work. By now the men were beginning to arrive.

‘Hide that baby or they’ll all want one.’

‘That’s fine with me, come here, girls.’

‘And me, always ready for a tumble. How about it, Flamehair? Aaooch! By Odin you kick like a horse.’ I left them and went to find Varg. As I had anticipated, he was not seduced by the notion of fatherhood.

‘Me! Cover up for that nithing, that offspring of a serpent, that, that ...’

‘Varg, this is about keeping Kirsten and her baby safe with us. We need a plausible story in case Mord Lambason starts to take an interest. I’m asking you to help the girl out.’ I had no more time to persuade him as Thora called us inside to drink the baby’s health. Varg scowled but came. As we crossed the yard, I heard him mutter under his breath.

‘Varg,’ Kirsten stood to greet us. ‘This is your son. I have named him Njal for my father and I ask you to accept him as your true child.

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