No Tears
After eating, Ylva went to the pile of blankets and spread one flat on the floor.
‘Let us help you with that.’ Cathryn pulled Bron to his feet.
‘No, I don’t want—’
‘You can’t move her on your own,’ Cathryn said.
Ylva glared at her, angry because she was right. ‘Fine.’
Every time either Cathryn or Bron touched Mother, Ylva’s skin crawled as if she were covered in insects, but she allowed them to help lift her body on to the blanket and wrap it around her.
They carried the bundle out to the back of the hut and lowered it into the ground.
Ylva took the bone-handled knife she had found and placed it on Mother’s chest. It would protect her in the life that came next.
‘Do you want to say some words?’ Cathryn asked.
Ylva shook her head and began to shovel the black soil into the grave. The dirt was rich and dark and damp. It dropped on to the blanket with the sound of heavy rain.
Geri stood at the end of the hole, looking in, and when Mother was gone Ylva fell to her knees beside him. ‘No tears. This isn’t the time.’ She put her arms around her best friend and hugged him to her. ‘Don’t let me cry. I have to be strong. Mother is with the gods now, and I’ll see her again one day.’
Cathryn came to stand behind her and reached out a hand. She hesitated, then touched her fingers to Ylva’s shoulder, but Ylva shrugged her away.
Cathryn stepped back, letting her hand fall to her side, and they remained that way, in the cold, for a long while.
After time, Ylva pressed her hand to the earth in front of her. ‘I promise I’ll come for you.’ She stood and turned to Cathryn. ‘Thank you for your help.’
‘What do you plan to do now?’ Cathryn followed her back into the hut. ‘Where will you go?’
Ylva picked up the bow and the quiver of iron-tipped arrows.
‘You’re not thinking of going out there alone, child,’ Cathryn said. ‘You can’t. Not with revenge in your heart.’
Ylva looked up at her.
‘You are, aren’t you? I can see it in your eyes.’ Cathryn swept a hand towards the dark stain on the floorboards. ‘You’re going after the people who did this.’
‘It’s my duty. It’s what the gods expect of me; my destiny.’
‘You think this is destiny? That the Norns pulled strings to make this happen to you?’ Cathryn shook her head. ‘What happened here wasn’t any kind of destiny; it was murder, and no one expects you to avenge it. Not even your gods.’
‘A murder must always be avenged,’ Ylva said. ‘It’s how it is.’
‘So you kill him, then one of his people kills you? Is that how it is? And who will avenge your death?’
‘What else am I going to do?’ Ylva collected her satchel and put it over her shoulder. By the firepit, she crouched to take a pinch of black ash from the edge of the fire. She put it in the palm of her left hand and spat on to it, using a finger to stir it into a dark paste that she spread around each eye. It would help to soften the hard glare of the snow, but it would also make her look fierce, like a Viking.
‘Don’t be so stupid, child, it’s your duty to live, not to die. Do you have any idea how far we are from anything?’ Cathryn said.
‘I’m not stupid.’ Ylva made more of the paste and drew lines running downwards from both corners of each eye, as if she were crying black tears.
‘This hut is the warmest place within two days’ ride. The nearest you’ll find is the settlement at Dunholm. There’s not even so much as a farmstead in this wilderness.’ Cathryn blocked the door. ‘I can’t let you walk out into that.’
‘You can’t stop me.’ Ylva tucked the bedroll under her arm and clicked her tongue at Geri. The dog came to her heel but looked up at Cathryn with doleful eyes.
Ylva knew he wanted to stay – Help us. Protect us – and a small part of her wanted that too, but she had a job to do. She had a duty.
‘No,’ she said to him. ‘They can’t tell me what to do. How can they stop me? Are they going to kill me? Are they going to kill me the way those people killed Mother and—?’
Cathryn reached out but stopped short of touching her. ‘Who are you talking to, child? Of course we won’t hurt you.’
‘Then get out of my way and let me go. I can’t stay here, so I have to go out there. I have to do something. I have to go somewhere.’
‘Then come with me,’ Cathryn said. ‘Come with us.’ She gestured towards Bron. ‘We’ll take care of you. If you go out there, you’ll get yourself killed. Think about what your mother said; survival always comes first. There’s a safe place we can take you that—’
‘She also told me it’s better to be fearless than faint of heart.’
Cathryn’s expression softened. ‘But not better to be dead.’
‘I have to avenge her.’ Ylva’s throat was tight. ‘It’s the way we do things. It’s expected. And it’s all I have left, so if I die, then I die, and I don’t care. You can put me in a saga and tell people how stupid I was.’
‘I never understood why you Danes love fighting and fame so much. Why don’t you let us take you somewhere safe? We have a place where— ’
Bron nudged Cathryn and glared at her. He made the gesture he had used before – his hand by his waist, turning it as if he were throwing something away – and Ylva knew what it meant. It was his hand-speak, his way of saying ’no’. But it felt to Ylva as if it meant so much more.
Get rid of her. Let her go. Let her die.
Well, that was just fine by her. ‘I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone to take care of me.’ Ylva stood in front of Cathryn and made herself as tall as she could.
Bron continued to make signs with his hands, Cathryn’s expression growing darker as she watched him. When he had finished, Cathryn replied using hand-speak, then looked down at Ylva. ‘Please let us help you. Please don’t go out there looking for revenge. You have a serpent by the tail, child, and nothing good ever comes from it. Everyone thinks revenge will solve something, make them feel better, and everyone finds out it doesn’t. You’ll lose everything.’
‘I haven’t got anything to lose.’
‘What about your life?’ Cathryn put a hand on Ylva’s shoulder. ‘You could lose your life. What could be more important than that?’
‘I don’t like to be touched.’ Ylva shrugged the hand away as if it burnt. ‘And people die every day, so if the gods want me to die, then that’s what’ll happen, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. Anyway, I’ll be happy to see Mother again.’
‘Happy? You don’t mean that.’ Cathryn resisted when Ylva tried to push past, but Bron went to her and put a hand on the woman’s arm.
‘Let her go,’ he said.
They were the first words he had spoken since arriving at the hut. His voice was soft and hoarse, almost a whisper, and the effort to make the words was clear in his eyes.
Cathryn didn’t try again to stop Ylva from leaving. Instead, she followed her into the cold to see her take the first steps on a journey that would lead her closer to hardship and heartache than any child should ever come.
Cathryn watched Ylva walk along the track until she was gone.