Freyas Saga Ch. 14

Just a bit longer, come on, just hold on, hold on, this is why I carried all them fucking bags, this is why I didn't let her share, so I could have just enough strength for this, fuck you, you fucking hairy bastard, you're cutting me something nasty down there but better that than biting my fucking arm off, come on, push harder, you stupid fucking ...

The wolf was still pushing at her but its eyes were bulging as it failed to understand why it couldn't breathe. One of its claws cut her on the crotch and she yelped with the pain and her eyes streamed but she held on, her shoulder muscles trembling, as the wolf scrabbled at her.

Its teeth were trying to close on her arm, but her arm was so far in the wolf's gullet that its jaws couldn't close. The wolf made feebler and feebler attempts to paw at her but its eyes were clouding over and slowly, very slowly, its strength was lessening, as it stopped getting any air at all.

Go on, she silently urged it, her eyes wet, her body tense with pain and exhaustion, her arm still locked, the wolf's slippery gullet squeezing her fist. Go on. Go on.

The wolf's eyelids sagged and its limbs went limp, and she fell backwards, its warm heavy body on top of hers. She lay there for a moment, panting, and then dragged her hand out of its mouth and ran over to where a long piece of the branch lay on the ground.

Then she ran back to the wolf and was just in time to see its eyelids flutter and its chest heave, as it began to come round, before she brought the branch down hard on the wolf's head. A crack and a whimper, and its legs thrashed briefly. Again, two more times.

Finally the wolf was still, and she sat down on the ground and flopped backwards and lay there, hugging herself and shaking, her chest heaving. Then she painfully got onto all fours.

She left the branch lying on the wolf's head, not wanting to see the mess she'd made. Then she crawled up the slope, staggered to her feet and, wincing, made her way back through the trees to the clearing she'd originally been in.

There. The path was clear, back down the hill to the field. She was aching and tired. She sat down and folded her arms on her knees and rested her head on them for a moment.

She heard a footstep on the dead twigs and snapped her eyes open and there before her stood a figure in Hargest campaign gear, a pack on his back, his fat face looking worried as he stared in wonderment at the naked, bleeding girl sitting on the floor of the forest.

"Shit!" said the youth at last, still staring at her but backing away. "Sorry. Sorry. Didn't mean to, um."

"Wait," she said, but didn't stand up. He stopped and peered at her.

She stared back at the face she'd glimpsed all those times in bits of polished metal, rivers, the occasional darkened glass. He blinked and stared back at her.

"You," he said. "You, um."

"What?" she said.

"You look like me," he said at last.

"Yeah," she said. "I know."

"Are you maybe a twin I didn't know I 'ad?" he said, a look of wonder on his face. "Is this our first fated meeting? 'Ave I come to rescue you from some evil plight?"

"No," she said, knowing the truth. "I've no twin."

"Then what ..." he said.

She stood up. It felt ridiculous to not let him see her, but she still felt shy and she could feel herself blushing. It was twilight anyway but she let him take it all in.

"Oh," he said. "But you're a girl."

"Is it obvious?" she said.

"Well, I mean, I can tell," he said. "You've got girl bits. What is this? Is this an enchanted forest?"

"Reckon it must be," she said. "Don't 'ave no other explanation. All right, don't fuckin' stare."

"Sorry," he said, averting his eyes. She covered herself with her hands as best as she could.

"So, where did you come from?" he said. "What's befallen you?"

"I was gunna ask you," she said.

"Well," he said, "I'm just, obviously, I'm on campaign, we, uh ..."

He seemed uncertain, and looked over his shoulder, as if for the rest of the men.

"No," she said. "You're not. I've never been here before and I've certainly never met meself as a girl in a forest."

"So what," he said, "you're ..."

He took a step towards her, looking at her face.

She'd never seen his face so close up and so clear before. The round, dark eyes. The mop of black hair. The jowls that she knew she'd lost. The puzzled expression. He looked ... unfinished. Much younger than eighteen.

He looked back at her, and reflected in his pupils she glimpsed herself; her dark hair cropped close, her square face lean and weathered from the sun, her long nose slightly crooked, her forehead and cheeks spattered with blood. She looked curious, and also full of sorrow.

"You're the real one," he said finally.

"Yeah, I am," she said, and he looked pale and stricken, and she felt sorry for him. He looked at his hand and looked at her, and she saw it dawning on his face, the understanding.

"Who am I, then?" he said.

"I think you're who everyone thought I was," she said.

"But you're not really me," he said. "Not a proper boy."

"No," she said. "Dunno if I'm a proper girl, with all the bits in good order. But I know I'm not a boy."

"Bloody great," he said, looking miserable. "Just, fucking, brilliant. So I've wasted all this time."

"We both 'ave," she said. "It's not just you."

"But you get to go on," he said. "You get to 'ave a life, now. You get to be with the lady and 'ave adventures and, and, I dunno, not feel like such a fucking idiot all the time."

"I still feel like a fucking idiot," she said. "And who says I'm going back with her?"

"But you can be you," he said. "I don't get to go on."

"I'd still 'ave to go down there and face 'er," she said. "Did you hear 'er shoutin' at me? She'd break me fucking nose again, at least. I don't need another broken nose. I'm not exactly Solveig the Fair as it is. 'Ave a bit of fucking compassion, you great twat."

He smiled, briefly, and so did she.

"What happened to you?" he said. "You're hellish cut up."

She looked at the cuts on her arms and legs and torso.

"It's not anything," she said.

"You gonna do it, though?" he said. "You gonna go down there? She needs you, you know. You're not just the one who carries the bags. You're her voice. "

She stared past him, at the slope down the hill. Then she looked at him, in all his gloomy hopefulness, and her heart ached for him.

Down there in the field, she said to herself, is a walking ball of rage who is very, very angry with me right now, and will probably beat the shit out of me before firing me on the spot.

Oh, fuck it. Can't keep letting everyone down.

"Don't 'ave a choice, do I," she said with a sad smile.

He looked oddly proud.

"No," he said. "You don't. I'd've run off. I did run off."

"Yeah," she said. "But that's not on now, is it."

"So," he said. "You're gonna fix me mistakes."

"You didn't make all mistakes," she said, her heart aching for him once again. "You did good, you know. You did. You got me here."

He looked at her, hopeful.

"You don't hate me, then," he said.

"Course I don't hate you," she said, and she was startled at the sudden passion in her voice. "I bloody love you, mate."

It was true, finally. The great iron band around her head had gone for real. She no longer felt wrong. She was who she was, and she was grateful to him. But the price of it all was that she and he had to say goodbye.

They stared at each other, each wishing that there could be some other way, each wishing that this wasn't it.

"We can't go on," she said. "It's done, now. She's seen who I am and there can't be no more hiding."

He nodded. He rubbed his eyes fiercely for a moment, looking like a little boy at the end of a long day. It made her want to weep.

"Right," he said, "well. Reckon it's got to be ta-ra, then, don't you?"

"Reckon it does," she said, nodding.

"You'll look after her."

"I will," she said. "I promise. Maybe I'll even see you again."

"Fuck," he said, "I dunno. Dun' even know what I'm doing 'ere."

He gestured to the forest, and she turned and looked at the tall empty trees in the dim blue light, and when she turned back he had gone.

She sat down on the forest floor and rested her face on her knees and wept briefly. Then she dried her eyes and shivered.

Night had fallen and she was bloody freezing.

She stood up and started to walk down the slope.

***

Some time later Five emerged from the trees, trembling with cold, and walked across the field towards the pool.

There was a fire. She could see it glimmering by the edge of the grove of trees around the pool. Her heart in her mouth, Five walked slowly towards the fire and was all too aware that there was nothing she could say, no apology this time. She just had to hear the lady out and take what was coming to her.

Her throat and mouth were dry. Freya was sitting at the fire, fully dressed, eating something from a bowl.

Five walked very quietly but nevertheless, Freya raised her head and put the bowl and stood up and turned in one motion, and watched the pale figure coming towards her.

Five saw her. Freya had cut her own hair, and done an absolutely crapshit job of it. That was what penitents did. But what had she to be penitent about?

Five wanted to cry but forced herself to keep her head up and look Freya in the face. She walked right up to the lady, who stared back at her, her face unreadable as deep water.

They stood there, looking at each other for a moment. Freya took a step back and looked Five up and down.

"Are you hurt?" she rasped, indicating the cuts and scratches and bruises all over Five's body.

"No," said Five.

Freya rubbed her face with one hand and looked at Five, her face stony. Five looked down, ashamed.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "I was scared. I'll do whatever you want. I understand if you want me to leave."

Freya did not move. Five couldn't look at her.

Here it came. The flyting before the beating.

"This is the first time you have let me down," said Freya hoarsely.

Five forced herself to meet Freya's eyes.

"It will be the last," Freya said.

"Yes, lady," said Five, and nodded, accepting what had to be, her face burning with shame. She looked away again and walked over to her clothes.

So that's it. It's all over.

"It's best if I just go," she said. "You don't need to say anything. You shouldn't talk anyway. I know what I did. I know you can't forgive me. I'll do whatever you want but I understand."

She started to sort through her baggy man's clothes, still the same ones she'd had forever. They were all too big now.

"Wait," said Freya.

"You don't need to say it, lady," Five said. "Just, please, don't. I've said it all to meself. I'll go back to Memika, I'll go and join a house of women, whatever."

This, now; this was as hard as fighting the wolf. Harder. To make preparations to go while Freya simply stood there. She had never been so ashamed.

She became aware that Freya had not moved, and she glanced at her

And then looked twice, because Freya's face was no longer stony. If anything, she was staring at Five with mingled grief and fear.

Five stared back, dumbstruck.

Freya suppressed a cough and swallowed. She pointed to the fire.

"I have sat here," she said, "and given many hard and noble speeches to the empty air, where you should have been. I have talked for hours about loyalty and honour and duty and service. I have said everything to you that I should have said."

Five stared stupidly at the empty spot by the fire which Freya indicated.

"All in vain, Five," Freya said. "All vanity."

It was the first time she'd ever called her by her name.

"Please, lady," said Five, miserable, "just let me go. There's no need for this."

"No!" Freya said, and Five's heart went in her mouth. But it wasn't an angry shout, but an anguished cry. Freya stood, clenching her hands for a moment, collecting her thoughts.

"It was all in vain," she said, "because it was I that failed you."

"W-what?" said Five, feeling hot as well as cold all over.

"You have been evilly, evilly used," Freya said. "Just as I have. And in my pride, with my rank, my experience, with all ... that has happened to me, I did not see it. I never saw it. I should have. It was my duty. And I failed."

I didn't see it meself, Five thought.

"When you ran from me," Freya said, "I did not see your shame. I only saw that you were leaving me. And I let myself be mastered by my anger. That is why I cried out, and that is why you feared me."

Freya fell silent again, and Five stood there, shivering, thinking, yes, I fucking feared you. I've always been afraid of you. It goes with the job.

"But, Five," Freya said softly, "You should never have had to fear me."

Five stared at her.

"Listen to me," said Freya, and she came forward and grasped Five by the shoulders and stared her in the face. Five could feel Freya trembling. She was trembling herself. There was so much unspoken, so much just on the edge of being said, nobody could have said it.

"If you think I would break our bond," Freya said, "because you were not able to be honest with me, because you were lied to, then you wrong me in your turn. A bond such as ours is stronger than death. Stronger even than love."

Stronger than love, thought Five. Yes. This ain't love. It's beyond that.

"I was a coward," said Five, her voice shaking.

"Yes, if you like," said Freya. "You were a coward."

Freya let go of Five and stepped back from her, formal. She looked away at the ground, ashamed, and then raised her eyes to Five's again, her expression beseeching.

"I was a coward too," she whispered. "You fled, and I raged. May we never fail each other again."

"Never, lady," said Five, weeping.

"Then may we forgive each other?" said Freya.

"Please, yes," said Five.

"Good," said Freya, the blood welling over her lower lip and flowing over her chin. "Oh god, child, come here."

She held out her arms. Five walked into them, and Freya held her tight.

Five thought through her tears, god, I'm crying a lot more now I'm a girl. Can't have this. But she let them flow anyway. Freya, embracing her, was shaking as well.

"I am sorry," Five sobbed. "I am truly sorry."

"Never again," said Freya into the hollow of Five's ear. "Never again."

Five nodded. They stood for a moment, Five resting her head against Freya's chest.

Then they drew back. Freya lifted Five's face, leaned down, closing her eyes, kissed Five on the lips, then released her. Five went over to her pack and took out a bandage and brought it back and dabbed the blood from Freya's mouth, then her own.

Then Freya held out her hand. Five took it, and Freya pulled her back to the river. Five splashed clumsily into the water and then stood as Freya took the almond oil and anointed her with it, and then carefully washed her all over.

Freya poured water over Five's short-cropped hair and the cold water sluicing over her body made her gasp. Her flesh tingled. Nobody had ever paid her body this much attention, not since Dannel, and he had just wanted to use it.

She opened her eyes, shivering, and looked at Freya, still washing her down with an absorbed look on her face. Before, when Freya had dressed her broken nose - his broken nose - she'd been efficient but hardly gentle. But this time she washed Five with great tenderness, and then led her back to the campfire, and took out the dressings and began to dress Five's wounds. Five shivered, warming herself.

Freya picked up Five's clothes and held them out to her. Five pulled them on. Then, at last, Freya stepped back and Five easied her tired and aching body to the ground and sat.

Freya poured Five a bowl of stew. It was falling apart a bit from being cooked too long, and in an attempt to make up for not having enough things besides roots and meat, Freya had over-seasoned it. But to Five, it was delicious. Freya gave her some stale bread to mop up the broth and she devoured it.

***

They sat side by side, warming their feet.

"You seem different."

"Don't feel that different," the young one said.

"Less scared."

Five returned her glance and thought for a moment, and nodded.

"Yeah," she said. "Still scared, though."

"Of what?"

"Now?" Five considered. "Before, I was scared of everything. Now ... dunno. A lot of things seem to matter less. I think, cos, now, well ..."

She let it trail off, but Freya understood from her rueful half-smile.

Freya nodded. We no longer have secrets from each other, have we, young one. We have each witnessed each other's worst shame, and it has passed.

Five put down her bowl and shivered a little in the cool night air. She pulled her baggy shirt closed over her chest.

"So," she said, "the bleeding. From between my legs."

Freya nodded.

"It's natural, then?"

"All women," Freya affirmed.

"What is it?"

"Part of childbearing," said Freya. "It stops when you are old and become barren."

"What, I 'ave to put up with this shit till I'm old?" said Five, outraged.

Freya nodded.

"'Ow do you know?"

"My nurse."

"You 'ad a nurse? Of course you 'ad a nurse. 'Ow do you deal with it?"

"How did you?" asked Freya.

"Just washed a lot," said Five. "I've never 'ad it regular. If it got bad I'd put a bit of bandage down there to soak it up."

Freya shrugged.

"So do we all," she whispered.

Five picked up her bowl, drank the last of the broth and put it down again.

"What happened to you?" said Freya. "In the forest."

"Oh," said Five, and looked thoughtfully into the distance.

Freya waited, smiling. From the wounds on the girl's body it was evident enough that she had been attacked by some large wild animal, and from the fact that she had returned from the forest at all, she had clearly had the best of the fight.

"Not a lot," Five said eventually. "I'll tell you some day."

Freya nodded. She was right not to tell. Some victories need to be nursed in private.

"Lady," Five said as she put on her boots, "you 'ave to let me cut your hair. That looks fucking terrible."

"'Lady'?" said Freya, raising an ironical eyebrow.

"Sorry, what," said Five, looking confused. "'Mistress'? Is it the wrong word?"

"You, of all people, need use no other title for me but my name," said Freya, and she saw Five blush and look proud.

"Oh," she said. "All right. Um, it'll take a bit of getting used to."

Freya shrugged but inclined her head.

"I meant it about the hair, though," said Five. "I'll 'ave to shave it. It's not good."

Freya nodded.

"One other thing," Five added. "And it pains me to say."

Freya waited.

"Can't marry you now," said Five. "Sorry." She gave a tentative but mischievous smile.

And that is why I love you, Freya thought, smiling back.