Displaced

Chapter 21

The weak, early summer sun was warm as it shone down on the lake not far from the cabin, but the warmth was fleeting. It came and went unpredictably, as the wind continually blew clouds across the sky, hiding the sun. There was a chill in the breeze that made Sigurd very glad that he had worn an extra layer of clothing.

He lay on his back, with the short grass by the edge of the lake tickling his neck. A series of ripples as his brothers moved around in the water made tiny waves that lapped up on the stony ground. Sigurd propped himself up on his elbows and squinted in the glare of the sun to watch Ivar and Hvitserk in the water.

Of his three brothers, only Ubbe had decided to brave the cold to swim in the deeper water at the centre of the lake. He had not stayed long in the water, and now he sat alongside Sigurd, shivering slightly in the meagre warmth of the sun. Ivar had, of course, seized upon the cold temperature of the water as an excuse not to venture any deeper than his ankles, and Hvitserk appeared to have agreed with him, because the two of them remained in the shallow edge, with their feet probably sinking as much into the mud and silt as into the water. Hvitserk held a fishing spear in one hand, and stared down into the murky water in front of him that was probably too shallow for anything but the tiniest of fish.

Things would probably have been different if he had been in his own body, Sigurd mused to himself. He was reasonably sure that if he had been himself, he would have swam too, not out of any particular desire to swim, but simply in an attempt to prove himself against the cold. And if he had gone in, Hvitserk would have had no choice but to dive in alongside him and Ubbe, not wanting to appear a coward.

But he was not himself, and the fact that Ivar was, had given Hvitserk an out.

If he had been in his own body, right now all three of them would have been shivering on the grass, attempting to dry off before they dressed again, and Ivar would have been feeling very smug in his dry clothes.

As was Sigurd, now that he thought about it. Next to him on the grass, Ubbe rubbed his hands quickly up and down his arms in an attempt to warm himself with friction. His skin was covered in gooseflesh and there was a bluish tint to his fingertips and toes. Sigurd grinned at him. "A little chilly?" he asked.

Ubbe quickly shook his head in denial. "No, I'm fine," he insisted through chattering teeth. He reached for his tunic and pants, pulled them on, and wrapped his arms around himself tightly. "A swim was exactly what I needed," he added.

Still grinning, Sigurd shook his head slowly. Of course Ubbe wasn't going to admit that going into the water had been a mistake. "It would be easier to believe you if your fingers weren't blue," he told him.

Ubbe glanced at his hands, flexed his fingers, then rubbed both hands quickly together in an attempt to coax the blood back into his extremities. He shrugged a little sheepishly.

Over at the edge of the lake, where the warmth of the sun had heated the water enough to make it more tolerable, Ivar was standing very still, staring down at where his feet disappeared below the surface, as though fascinated by it. A little further toward the centre of the lake, in the slightly deeper water, Hvitserk also stared down, spear in hand, as he moved slowly through the water trying not to disturb it and frighten the fish.

Ubbe cupped his hands and blew warm air into them, then quickly rubbed the palms on the fabric of his pants. He, too, had been watching their brothers in the water, but now he turned to glance at Sigurd. "Have you noticed anything strange about Sigurd recently?"

Sigurd blinked. He continued to watch Ivar for a few moments more. His brother was still staring down into the water, but standing on one leg now as he moved the other foot in a slow arc, creating a pattern of ripples as it went. He shook his head. "No, he seems totally normal to me."