Frida

Chapter 32 - Summer Raids

The winters in the North were really not something you would make fun of.

If Frida had thought that it had been cold when the first snow came, she had not seen anything yet. Frost had slowly crawled over the land like a plague infesting everything it touched on its deathly path, and the wind that followed was harsh and violent, stabbing your skin painfully if it had not been sealed with heavy furs. The snow had continued to fall from the white skies in heavy layers, and the sea was colder than ice, big flakes of solid frozen water floating over it like giant white leaves in the water.

All the animals, the livestock of the village, had been scrambled in the many houses to save them from turning to frozen sculptures, and an empty silence lay over the outsides of the village for many months as the winter roared at them.

When spring finally came, it was as if everyone sighed out in relief, thanking the gods for keeping them alive. 

Frida was delighted when the snow finally melted down into the sea and she heard the chirps of birds again sounding from the tree tops. To her, it was as if the earth surrounding her was reborn, coming to life again right before her eyes with the blooming of small green buds and the smell of the plants breathing once more.

It was as if she had never experienced spring before.

The coming of spring in England had, of course, always too been an awaited and praised time of the year, but she had never longed for it this badly, as the winters in her old land had never lasted for so long. Frida had never thought that darkness could prevail for such a long period of time as it had here in Kattegat, and even though she had spent most of her time cuddled up in the pleasant warmth of the longhouse surrounded by her family, the clean and fragrant air of the spring in her lungs felt better than ever.

Ragnhildir had grown exceptionally fast during the winter. She was no longer as weak and fragile, and she and Freke had developed a friendship like no other. Freke only left her side when he was out hunting on his own, or if Ragnar took him out to help him and the other men search the woods for deer, rabbits or owls.

Ubbe and Hvitserk had started their training with Bjørn and Ragnar, and they nosily spent their time fighting against each other in the long-hall, practicing movements and tactics that were important when being in the shield wall. Frida had frowned many times when her eyes had rested upon the longing face of Ivar, who had sat by the fire and watched his brothers and father train.

He told her with a small voice one night that he would never feel like a true member of the family, like a true son of Ragnar, if he could not go with them on raids. Frida had thought it impossible for her to help him at first, but Athelstan had suggested that he was to use his mind instead of his strength when raiding, and Frida opened his world to warfare by telling him whatever little she knew about the strategies in the shield wall.

Her knowledge was, however, limited, but Lagertha quickly took it upon herself to be his teacher, and they had spent many hours together bent over the fireplace and speaking in hushed voices about fighting. Often, Athelstan would join them, and Frida's heart had warmed delightfully when she had seen Ivar smiling greater and greater.

But now the whole village had awakened from their winter sleep, from their hibernation, and more than half of the city was outside preparing the fields, rebuilding fences, or strengthening their weapons. Frida could feel a certain restlessness hover over the village, especially between the men, and it seemed like nobody could speak about nothing else but the coming raids.

Where were they going? What were they going to see? How many riches would they gather?

Frida was smiling widely into her horn as she sat on the wooden throne of the long-hall, Ragnhildir lazily resting in her arms, and she noticed the many exhilarated smiles that were scattered all over the room, the whole atmosphere thick with anticipation and renewed strength.

The villagers had been gathered in the longhouse to speak of this summer's raids.

She took a sip of the honey liqueur that flowed in her horn, and she closed her eyes in a smile as the sweetness spread over her tongue and traced further down into her stomach, flowing through her body like warm medicine. A loud roar broke from the crowd in front of her when Ragnar entered the room and took his place on the throne next to her. He threw an overcooked bone over to Freke, who joyfully laid himself down to devour the tasty marrow from its middle.

Ragnar sent her a quick little smile before he gathered his hands and turned his narrowed eyes to the many faces in front of him.

Silence flushed the room, and Frida felt Ragnhildir stirring in her arms. Her eyes were questioning, demanding, and Frida giggled lightly before she raised her so that she was standing, so to speak, on Frida's thighs.

Ragnhildir was the most curious baby she had ever come across, and Frida had asked herself many times whether she had inherited her father's constant search for knowledge and adventure. If that was the case, Frida knew that this child would grow up to do many great things, just like him.

"Summer is finally coming our way," Ragnar's voice sounded loudly through the large room, "And I know that you, just as I, are looking much forward to the coming raids."

Cheering and wooing flashed through the long-hall, but when Ragnar raised his hand, it quickly died down.

"Now, instead of boring you with a long talk about east or west and the dangers of crossing the big ocean, I will just leave it here. We will go to England again, and we will see what else those lands can offer us."

Ragnar chuckled when the crowd once more rumbled with excitement, and he turned his gaze to Frida and Ragnhildir, blinking at them both sweetly. Frida nodded at him with a curl on her lips.

Ragnar rose to his feet and raised his arms, controlling the audacity of the men in front of him. "I have many dreams concerning England. I wish not to just kill and plunder, but to search the king of this land too, and see what he can offer us. And maybe, just maybe, we do not have to return so quickly, maybe we can stay there for a little while. But that, of course, goes to show."

Rapid murmuring spread through the villagers, and Frida could see both intrigued and furrowed brows rising between the many faces. Ragnar placed himself back on his throne and reached his hand over to rest it upon Frida's. She smiled sweetly at him and felt a small nudging in her stomach spreading warmth through her blood.

"I am also happy to announce that your queen is carrying yet another child of mine in her belly. The gods are truly showering me with their gifts."

Amazed sighs whistled through the crowd, and Frida felt her cheeks blushing while her heart drummed. She could feel Lagertha's eyes on her from the front row of the crowd, but she let her gaze fall down upon Ragnhildir, hugging her closely.

"She will stay here while we go to England, and I will therefore ask some of you to stay here with her and protect my family. I will not have a ship coming to England again, announcing another usurping of my lands."

Ragnar's eyes fell to Rollo, and Frida felt something sink in her heart. The memory of Jarl Borg still lingered heavy in Ragnar's mind, she knew that.

Ragnar rose to his feet once more and raised his horn before his people, a huge smile breaking on his lips.

"To Kattegat!" he yelled, closely followed by cheers from the crowd who gladly drank with their king.

"And to our king," Rollo bellowed deeply, earning another round of cheering to sound.

Frida watched Ragnar as he gulped down the golden honey liquids from his horn, his eyes resting calmly on his brother. But Frida did not make much out of this exchange. She could not wait to see what they would find in England.