Frida

Chapter 19 - The Story of Kolbein

Frida felt like the whole world was watching her as she made her way across the stone paved floor of the long-hall. Her heartbeat was fast and strong, her face flushed with heat as she soon stepped up on the raised wooden platform on which the two large wooden chairs stood, and where Ragnar already was seated, as the king he was on his throne.

Ragnar did not look at her, however, as she sat down next to him, but his eyes hovered the crowd before them while he absentmindedly stroked the head of a small white lamb that laid curled up in his lap.

Frida heard the low murmuring and whispers that spread through the crowd of Norsemen when she entered the room, and she quickly scanned the crowd to have her eyes connect with Lagertha's, suddenly not feeling the sensation of bravery in her chest that Ragnar's earlier wife had just had her feel. Lagertha smiled at her and nodded her head.

Frida exhaled deeply, and finally found the courage to look at the faces of the men before her.

They were all so very tall and broad, their beards reaching down over their bulky chests and their hard eyes following her every movement. She noticed that especially Rollo was eyeing her intently, his eyes focused on the necklace that hung down over her chest. Frida reached her hand up to let her fingers close around it, wishing that the same feeling of calmness that the horse had had her feel in the forest would shine upon her in this moment.

A man that she had not yet laid her eyes upon stepped forward, and he proudly strode onward to stand before Ragnar and Frida, his eyes glaring at her face. He cleared his throat and rubbed his hands together, while the sound of the murmuring crowd died down.

"I wish," he grumbled in a deep voice, "to report a thief."

Frida looked at Ragnar out of the corner of her eye, and she saw him curling his lips at the man, his eyes narrowing down at him slightly.

"Yes?" Ragnar hummed, still stroking the lamb in his lap gently.

It bleated softly between his hands, while the man explained how every morning, when he went out to do his daily chores, he would find the eggs of his chickens to be gone and the his cow to have been already emptied for its milk. His gardens would already have been plucked, the berries of his bushes already picked.

"However," he hummed, "the foliage around my house is never treaded down, and the traps I have set forth have not been touched. I..."

The man's growling voice broke, and he looked down upon his feet, resignedly. Frida looked at the man with soft eyes as she could tell that he was not angry about this theft. He was just desperate for it to stop.

"Hm," Ragnar voiced beside her, "And who do you think is responsible for this?"

Frida saw the men standing around him glaring at each other, some sort of exchange of words going on between them without their lips moving. The man in front of them shrugged his shoulders, his head falling down on his chest in resignation. "Someone who has no shame. I cannot feed my family, my king. We are starving."

Frida turned her head to look at Ragnar, and she saw that he was eyeing her too, his lips curled. She widened her eyes when she saw him lifting his eyebrows at her, as if urging her to speak. Frida shook her head in quick movements at him.

She was not ready yet.

Ragnar sighed out and put down the lamb, rising to his feet. He was very dramatic in his movements as he stepped down to put an arm over the shoulders of the robbed man, eyeing him closely.

"So your thief is someone who cleverly has outsmarted your traps, and someone who can apparently hover the land, yes?"

A chuckling sound was heard from several parts of the crowd in the long-hall, and Frida furrowed her brows as Ragnar turned for the two of them to face the crowd. She was intrigued to see how Ragnar would solve this mystery, and she leaned forward in her seat, following the two men with her eyes as they made their way further down closer to the fire.