The Oath of Bjorn by Tamara Goranson

Author:Tamara Goranson [Goranson, Tamara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780008455743
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers

At the break of dawn when the sky is turning peach pink pale, I ease myself out of bed to go in search of Upsi. I find him herding livestock in the middle of the feed yard.

“Where’d you disappear to last night?” he grunts as he clicks his tongue at the beast they call a cow. When I don’t reply, he cracks a smile. “Wish I was as young as you.”

Grabbing a pitchfork, I begin helping him with the morning chores. “Did Karlsefni’s woman make an appearance at the feast last night?”

“Neinn,” he sniffs. He hoists a load of hay into a trough. “But they say the bairn has a healthy set of lungs and that he is thriving.”

I bend my back into my work. The sun is sending spears of light through the dew-drenched grass, piercing a band of low-lying fog. I take a breath, knowing that this might be my only chance to arrange a private meeting with Anja’s aunt. “I am wondering if you could ask Thora to help us see Karlsefni’s wife?”

Upsi straightens up and rubs his back. “What for?” he asks suspiciously.

“Remember that bear hide the Beothuk gave me in exchange for Anja’s necklace?” I mutter, speaking fast. “Anja and I want to see the helmsman’s wife and give it to her to mark the birth of her firstborn son, but we don’t want Karlsefni to know. He would ask too many questions about the jewel we gave away.”

“He is askin’ anyways,” Upsi sniffs. “If you plan on givin’ that bear hide away, just know this: Karlsefni’s woman, Gudrid, might turn her nose up at it. She’s accustomed to sleepin’ with feather pillows and eider down.”

“In Leifsbidur, it is customary to give gifts when bairns are born.”

Upsi rubs the raven tattoo on his arm. “It’s not my place, huntsman. You should talk to Thora yerself to arrange to see the helmsman’s wife. Just remember: if the mistress don’t want that hide, send it my way. I’ll make good use of it.”

The sun angles weirdly as it slips through the slats of the palisade walls. I shield my eyes, seeing bear images in sun sparkles, picturing Anja in the glare.

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