The Call of the Warrior

Angering the Lover

Ivar said nothing about the other woman on the ride home. Nor did he mention her the next few times they met. And Anna didn't dare ask.

The house was coming along slowly. Every log needed to be squared off. Sometimes Anna would watch Ivar for the best part of an hour and think nothing happened. And yet it was all happening too quickly.

Sometimes she put on a happy face, trying to pretend nothing was wrong. She focused on the garden she would plant. She could grow thyme and beans. And Ivar would grow turnips and wheat in the fields.

She sat now, watching Ivar eat the food she had brought him. He worked so hard. Even today, when his father was out working the fields with Danny and Gunder, he chose to be here building their future.

"What's wrong?" He wiped his fingers on his pants and finished the mead she had brought.

Anna swallowed the last of the bread and forced a smile. "Nothing. You're just working so hard."

"Speaking of, I should get back to it. Thank you for the food."

He got up and left her alone with the cleaning up. Anna sighed and picked up the mead bottle and the cloth she had used for the bread. This was the way of it. The men did the hard work and women were expected to tidy up after them. She found the spoon he had used to spread jam on the bread and placed it back in the basket.

Ivar was already swinging his ax again. Anna took her things and left him to it. She walked the path back to the village, listening to the sounds of the forest. Birds were singing their praises to the gods and the wind gently blew life into the first leaves on the trees.

Anna pushed away the thoughts that threatened to upend her life and turned her face upward to catch some of the warmth from the sun.

She would be a good wife. She had fallen in love with Ivar the first time she saw him, and that meant something. Everyone envied her fortune. But was it truly fortune or just the Trickster's luck that could turn to ashes at any moment?

She climbed the last hill before her father's farm, noting how strange it would be to not call that home anymore. As she crested the hill and looked down over the fields and her mother's apple orchard, she spotted her brother sitting in the field behind the horse and plow.

Her heart jumped into her throat and she dropped the basket and ran. Stumbling over the new furrows, she ignored the dirt that clung to her shoes.

"Caleb."

He opened his eyes and turned his head at the sound of her voice. She fell to her knees next to him.

"Caleb, what happened? What are you doing here? Are you sick?"

Caleb shook his head slowly and smiled a sad smile. "I wanted to help."

Anna took the reins from his hands and tied them off to the plow. The old mare was docile and hard to keep moving at the best of times. It was unlikely she would go far.

"Come here." She helped him to his feet. He was so light she could almost carry him. He put his arm around her shoulders and together they walked to the side of the field. Ever since he was little, Caleb had been sickly. The healers said it was his constitution. Her mother still asked every altha, witch, and healer she could find to help him.

She eased Caleb onto the side of the road next to a tree.

"Why are you here? Why isn't Father or Grim doing the plowing?" Grim was their worker who took care of much of the farm when her father was away on his trips.

"Grim is sick. He has a fever. Mother went to find the altha, and father got called away."

"You still shouldn't have been doing it. You're not strong enough. What would you have done if I hadn't come by?"

"I would have been fine," he smiled up at her. "I just needed to rest for a while."

"You could have killed yourself. There's no need for you to do the plowing. Father can do it when he gets home."

"But that could be days, and you know Farmer Tilde needs to borrow the plow tomorrow. And there are others after him. We already promised, and you know how father hates to go back on a promise."

Anna sighed. "So it has to be done today?"

"I'll rest for a bit, then I can continue."

"You'll do no such thing. I'll not have you killing yourself." With a deep breath, Anna stood up and looked towards the plow.

"Anna?"

Anna grabbed her skirt and tied it to her waist. She had watched men plow since she was old enough to walk. It didn't seem that hard. If her younger brother could do it.

"Anna, what are you doing? You can't."

"Why not?" She looked back at him. "Nobody will see."

"It's not proper. A woman can't plow."

"Widow Reana does it."

"That's different. She's a widow."

"You were right. It needs to get done today. And I don't see anyone else around that can do it."

Caleb looked like he wanted to get up and stop her, but his face was pale and his cheeks flustered. He sank back down. "Place the reins over your right shoulder and under your left arm. You might have to adjust the knot to get the right length. If Dalia takes off, just lean forward, so she doesn't drag you along."

Anna nodded. "Any other advice?"

After a few instructions, Anna set her jaw and went back to the horse. Dalia was standing still where they had left her. She was about the laziest horse Anna had ever seen.

The sun was low in the sky by the time Anna was done. Caleb helped her out a few times, but immediately had to sit back down.

As they took the harness off Dalia and wiped her down, Caleb got serious.

"What's wrong?" Anna asked.

"People are going to think you're strange. And if we have a poor harvest, they'll say you angered the Lover."

"Let them. The field needed plowing. That's all there is to it."

"But you know father would never anger the ardent."

Anna shrugged. "Nobody will ever find out. We'll just tell everyone you did it."