Chapter 9
Ivar
I did not think too much about what Ailis said, and even after days of staying isolated in my room, Ragnar never visited. This made me feel hurt and lonely.
Why was he doing this to me when he knows I love him?
I bit down on my bottom lip as Ailis braided the last strand of hair. She stood in front of me with a small brush and a bowl containing kohl. She had crushed kohl and mixed it with water.
Today was the judgment day for this village, and I had to attend. It was when my father judged those accused of wrongdoing in the village, and they would be persecuted.
There was another bowl of plant extract, colored red. Gently dipping the brush in the kohl, she lined my eyes, dragging the brush from one corner to the other, creating a long tail.
Then she moved on to the red mixture and colored my forehead and cheeks. Afterwards, she fixed my hair into a ponytail, coiling it into a knot.
"By the gods, you are fair as any woman I met, my Lady," Ailis said, admiring my face.
I smiled. "Thank you, Ailis. May I see the mirror?"
She handed me the small mirror, and I stared at my reflection.
"Men will drool over you this day," she said with a smile.
"Ailis, your words flatter me," I said, rising from the stool. I prayed to the gods that the only man who would look at me like that would be Ragnar.
The door opened, and I turned around to see Ake walk in.
"Good morrow, my Lady," he greeted.
"Ake," I said, placing my hand on his as he led me out of the room. In the hallway, I saw men and women engaging in drinking, shouting praises to my father.
Ake led me into the throne room, and as I walked in, the place fell silent. Men who had been drinking ale and mead were now quiet, their gazes focused on me. Through the crowd, I searched for Ragnar and spotted him sitting at a table with another woman. He was staring at me, his lips parted slightly, looking stunned.
My jaw clenched at the sight of the woman. He was with a woman. Really?
I clenched my hands into fists. Why did I worry about him? It's not as if he belongs to me. He only kissed me, and that's all. But now I was so angry that when I sat down, I forgot to greet my Papa.
"All rise to our noble Hirðkona, daughter of our great chieftain. A powerful shield-maiden, born of strength and pride of her father!"
The people stood up, bowing their heads in unison. My eyes connected with Ragnar's. He was not standing but sat with pride, as though he were the chieftain of the tribe.
My Mama smiled, sitting on my father's left, while I was on his right.
My father's personal guard, Erik, walked forward, scanning the crowd.
The door opened, and guards walked in, dragging the prisoners inside the throne room. They were forced to kneel before us. The first was a man with a thick beard.
"Thou have been found guilty of defiling a young girl of but ten winters," Erik announced.
I stared at the pig kneeling before us. My lips curled in disgust. How can he do such? But it isn't uncommon to see men much older defiling little girls.
"Thou shall be executed by axe," Erik said.
The people cheered as the man was dragged to a corner, his hands bound with chains.
The second prisoner was forced to kneel before my father.
"Murderer!" a woman yelled from the crowd.
"Thou have been accused of the slaying of thy wife and children a few weeks ago," Erik said.
As they judged his crime and asked him to plead, my eyes wandered through the crowd. Ragnar was no longer there. The woman remained, but he was gone.
I slowly stood from my chair, and my Papa grabbed my arm.
"Where do you go?" he asked.
"To relieve myself," I replied.
"And you could not do that before coming?" he asked. "You know this gathering is of great importance. If you are to lead after me, you must learn how to pass judgement."
"I shall be back soon, Papa. I promise," I said, and he released my arm. I quickly walked out of the room and down the hallway. I searched for Ragnar and found him sitting on a bench at the back of the house.
When he saw me, his eyes widened as if he hadn't expected my presence. I walked towards him.
"What brings you here?" he asked.
"Unc… Ragnar," I began.
"Why are you here?" he demanded, standing up and stepping closer. "Think of what could happen if eyes befall us like this."
I sighed. "I can not help it."
"Nor can I," he snapped. "But you must go. Leave, Ivar."
"Did you not love me?," I said. "You took me to the brothel. Is that not what men do when they fall in love?"
"Nay," he snapped. "They do that when they want to bed you. This is why I do not want—you are strong in battle, yet you are as blind as a little child."
"I love you."
"I do not wish to hear such from you again."
My hands clenched into fists, and I pushed his chest hard. "Why do you refuse me?"
"You are not the woman for me, Ivar," he said.
"When you came for winters, I was so happy," I said. "I never agreed to any man chosen for me because twas you I love." (twas— it was.)
He wasn't listening. His eyes were fixed on the goats.
I punched him in the stomach, and he stumbled back, laughing lightly.
"I have dreamed of you many times," I said. "And in my dreams, we were bound in love."
"You are the most witless woman I have ever met, Ivar," he said. "How can you speak of love knowing your mother would never bless our union? She do not like me."
(Witless means foolish or stupid)
"I care less."
"You care less?" He grabbed my chin, pushing me against the wall. I gasped. "I care a lot. And Ivar, let this be the last time you come to me of love."
I kicked him in his bottom, and he groaned before laughing.
"I hate you so much."
He laughed even more. "You have naught what joy your words bring to me."
Clenching my hands, I stormed out. Coward!