THE MIDNIGHT SUN

3.

And months passed by, they went from side to side of the river. It was a dangerous time this one, when John nearly survived a bear attack. But the catch was good this time. Was very good brought them lot of pelts and more money. But he left once again with nothing, he thought. Sometimes he wandered, if it was even his fault. So many nights under the strange skies, he tossed and turned and the thought haunted him like a dead man's ghost. The dream of them having a child to finally have another Fitzgerald in line faded.

And yes, he continued his visits to the town, bending the whores or the easy ones, could easy his troubled mind, until the moment he was spent. That moment the guilt and everything bad crawled back inside. He went to the point to hate his own wife for this, for her bareness. Alas, he had not the will or desire to fill another woman, who's face he doesn't even remember the next moment. He couldn't even send his wife away, he loved Lagertha with all his heart and no matter what, he couldn't return to find her space empty. The void would be great to him, unbearable. How can you love and hate someone at the same time, he asked himself many times.

So long was this winter. The snow covered even roofs. And on his way back his horse almost didn't make it, but luckily he was back on time to treat the poor animal. After months of journey, he went straight to the stable, fed and watered it and put some extra hay on his stall. He was wretched himself too, cuts and wounds, small or big covered his body, but luckily nothing to put him down. It was late at night, very late, when he left the stable. It was pinched dark and he carefully opened the door. He didn't find her on the kitchen luckily, he thought, that she must be sleeping by now. And maybe it was better that way. Without doing anything else, he kicked off his boots and just sank close to the half lit fire and drunk whatever was left from moonshine on his flask.

"Who's there?" Lagertha's voice suddenly came from the doorway of bedroom and once John rose his eyes, they went wide open. She was standing there with rifle in her hands. Hands, that were shaking. From fear, nervousness. But the moment she saw him, she froze. Without a second of hesitation she dropped the rifle down and she ran to him and jumped into his arms and cuddle on him like an animal.  "John," she whispered his name, pulling him close by his shirt.

"Lagertha..." he almost whispered. More surprised. Why she was standing there with a gun? He wrapped his arms around her and stroked her head to soothe her. She was shaking, but not from cold, from fear. "What happened here?" He asked her right away, taking her chin to see her face.

She was crying already and he could count on fingers on his one hand, how many time he saw her crying in the past. For she always cried in silence, when he was sleeping or hidden somewhere, so he didn't see. Now a waterfalls were falling from her eyes. "I'm so glad you came back, so so so glad," she told him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She was speaking for long after she got a little bit calmer. Few men found out, that she was alone most of the time. First they poisoned their dog, then they began to rob stables. It began with tools and continued with animals. "Then one night," she continued telling, sobbing. "They broke into our house. I locked myself in bathroom, but they were bumping into a door and I ran away through window. I ran through forrest, until I stopped at the house of the widower on the other side. It was almost midnight and I stormed into his house only in nightgown and barefoot. My feet bleeding," she said, showing him wounds on her feet. "He helped me a lot from that night. We set up few traps and once I found tracks, so I knew, they were circling around the house again, he stayed and waited for them in stables. He caught one, the rest hasn't showed since then. I have no idea, what would I do, if it wasn't for his help," she added, before she began to cry again.

He was listening to her and cursed himself over and over again for everything. Because he left, because he left her alone again, unprotected. "I'm sorry, I wasn't here," he said calmly, holding her. What else he could tell? That it's alright? That she shouldn't be scared? He was smart enough to understand, that this terror won't leave just with his words. "I won't leave next winter, I promise, right?" He spoke calmly, still holding her on his arms.