Page 31

"Aye, that she is," agreed Gunner, his tone hardening in a manner Mairead found both familiar and chilling. The warning was clear to all. "And now she is wife to a Viking."

"But, I do not understand. Why...?" Brynhild stood now and glared at her, distaste etched across her stunningly beautiful features.

Gunnar stiffened at her side and Mairead trembled.

This was not going well. She should have known, should have convinced Gunnar not to bring them here unannounced.

As she floundered, desperate to diffuse the situation but with not the slightest idea how she might achieve that, help came from an unexpected quarter.

It was Ulfric who stepped in to relieve the sudden tension which crackled between them.

"And a lovelier bride no Viking ever claimed.

" For such a large man he moved with enviable alacrity to place himself between Gunnar and Brynhild, at the same time ushering his visitors toward the table.

"Welcome, Mairead. You must be tired after your journey, and your children will no doubt be hungry. Come, be seated..."

Dumbly, Mairead took the offered seat. She was grateful for the diversion and the refreshment, and relieved too when Fiona appeared from the back of the hall and embraced her.

"You are well?" Mairead whispered.

"Yes, very, " assured the other Celt, and her ready smile appeared genuine enough.

"Fiona, you will entertain our guests. Hilla, Harald, fetch more food, more ale. Where is Njal?" Ulfric continued to direct the hospitality, calling upon his thralls to replenish the plates. At his summons a small boy came running in from outside.

"I am here," he yelled, making a beeline for his uncle. Gunnar laughed and caught the small, wriggling boy in his arms, hurling him up into the air as the lad shrieked with joy.

Ulfric's son looked to be perhaps the same age as Donald, maybe slightly younger. When Njal caught sight of the Celt boy hovering uncertainly beside Gunnar he scowled at him with undisguised suspicion. "Who is that? " He demanded.

Again, Gunnar made the introductions. "That is Donald, my stepson. He is good with a sword and a fair enough shot with his dagger."

If the mention of a stepson struck Njal as odd he managed to hide it well enough.

He was more interested in asserting his own superiority with the weapons mentioned and keen to demonstrate his prowess.

Donald was having none of that and the two boys left the longhouse exchanging boasts, each determined on establishing the truth of the matter.

Ulfric drew Gunnar away. Mairead knew they had much to discuss, not least the threat posed by Olaf Bjarkesson, so she was not surprised when the men left the women alone.

Her protectors gone, Mairead eyed Brynhild nervously, though the Viking woman seemed intent upon ignoring her presence in the longhouse.

Brynhild strode around the hall, issued her instructions to the servants and went about her business as though two Celtic women were not ensconced at her table, eating her bread and cheese and supping her finest mead.

"Would you like to see the rest of the village. It is not quite dark outside."

Mairead interpreted Fiona's whispered invitation as a welcome opportunity to escape the icy silence emanating from their reluctant hostess. She nodded and gathered Tyra to her. Donald had yet to reappear but she supposed she would encounter him on her tour of the settlement.

As soon as they were out of earshot Fiona grasped Mairead's arm. "You are married then? To that Viking?" Fiona's expression was one of near disbelief. "How did that happen? I had assumed that he would... that he would...force you."

Mairead shook her head. "No, never. He has been kind, very gentle. I... I love him. And he loves me."

Fiona nodded slowly. "Yes, I can see that."

"You seem ... saddened. Is Ulfric cruel to you? If he treats you badly I could speak with Gunnar. He might--"

"No! No, Ulfric is not cruel. He is not unlike Gunnar, by the sound of it – very persuasive in bed."

"You are required to sleep with him, then?"

"It is no hardship, but I am still his slave. He will never take a slave as his wife, so I suppose eventually...he will send me away. Or... or he will sell me."

Mairead reached for her new friend and hugged her. "I do not believe Ulfric will do that. I do not know him well, but there is something about him, the way he looks at you, watches you. I believe he cares, but if he does decide to sell you I will ask Gunnar to buy you. You would be safe with us."

"If ever I lose Ulfric's favour I will need to leave here. Brynhild hates me, and would harm me if she could."

"Are you sure? She is hostile, certainly, but?—"

"On my first night here she forced me to take a bath in icy cold water. She is not permitted to beat me, but will encourage Ulfric to do so at any opportunity. She constantly finds fault with me, nothing I do pleases her and I have ceased to try."

"She is a Viking, and you are a slave."

"It is more than that. She treats Hilla well, you saw that she does. And Harald. They are slaves too, Saxons, from England originally. Brynhild reserves her hatred for we Celts."

"Gunnar told me that her betrothed died in a raid on a Celtic village and that she has never recovered from the loss."

"Is it reasonable to hold all Celts responsible for the actions of a few? In any case, were those men not entitled to defend their homes? Their families?"

"Yes, of course. I know that. I was merely trying to understand. It is difficult for her..."

"And difficult, too, for those on the receiving end of her hatred," retorted Fiona bitterly.

They paused to lean on a low fence. In silence the pair of them gazed across the village at the two boys who were seated on the ground in front of the forge.

Njal and Donald were engaged in a heated conversation but both were smiling.

Mairead was glad. Her son had few enough friends and Njal would be his cousin, of sorts.

Fiona was her friend too, and like it or not, Brynhild was now her sister. Family was important, ultimately it was all they had. She knew this, and Gunnar had said as much too. This intractable situation with Brynhild threatened all of them. It could not continue.