Freyas Saga Ch. 30

Hargest felt his patience rapidly draining away.

"And what, Sir Ulf, does this enchantress want?"

"Power, lord," Ulf said softly, coming close to Hargest and lowering his voice. "What does anyone ever want? Power, and more power."

"How is she supposed to grasp and wield this power when she is lying in a bed in a room, sick half to death?"

"She is preparing," Ulf said. "She is building up her strength, you may be sure of that."

"And what does Sir Gunnar get out of this?"

"Sir Gunnar is not a man of the first rank of intelligence, lord," Ulf said. "You know that. He sees his chance. Instead of being an old knight, liked but little respected, he could be the trusted counselor of our new queen."

"So he wants power too."

"Along with all knights."

"Then, can you account for why he was found lying dead under the apple tree in Eaglaf Edwinsson's south field?"

"Murder," Ulf said without hesitating.

"He was still holding the knife in his throat."

Ulf paused, and Hargest waited for him to just drop the whole thing and come clean.

"My lord," Ulf began, then he paused again for a long moment.

***

It was all clear in Ulf's mind. Freya dead in Casman. The boy gone. The two women and their early life in the slums, followed by them hearing the news of Freya and seizing their chance. Their return to Hargest, Ulf's dramatic unmasking of them, which was initially disbelieved until everyone saw that it was true and he was right all along.

It took a moment or two before he had fully taken in the news about Gunnar. He found Hargest looking at him, willing him to change what he was saying, to come back, to join the story which was about Freya's return and the squire realising that he was not a boy and...

But that is not my story. That is about Freya.

I'm sorry, lord. I can't come back. It's gone on too long.

***

Hargest thought he saw something almost apologetic in Ulf's eyes, and he waited for the words to be spoken, the acceptance of blame, the recognition of truth.

Then Ulf said, "My lord, I urge you, listen to yourself. If you could only hear how senseless is this talk of Freya returning from the dead."

Hargest lost his temper and struck the cell door with his fist so hard that it rattled, echoing around the dungeon. The door to the passage opened and the guard looked in.

He looked at Hargest. There was something in his look that needled Hargest a little. Then, seeing that nothing was out of the ordinary, the guard went outside again.

Ulf had stepped back from the door and looked startled. Hargest felt a great dreary weight settling on him. How heavy are lies, he thought. When someone really wants to tell them, it is like trying to walk through a wall.

He stepped back too and shut Ulf's cell door, turned the key and took it out, then turned and walked to the door at the end of the passage and knocked. The door opened and the guard let him out.

As Hargest was returning to his own quarters, he realised what it was in the guard's look that had disturbed him. There had been a sudden noise in the passage, and the guard had checked to see what had caused it.

But he had not looked at Ulf. His glance of dislike and distrust had been only for Hargest.

***

Norbert took what he needed, then he set up his gear in a room off Freya's quarters.

In the meantime, Five, Owyn, Dovid and the men of Rosso's company assembled in the hall, and waited to see who would turn up.

They arrived slowly at first, then in group of two or three, until finally about fifty men were gathered. From time to time, one or other would come up to Christoph Schuldt and ask him when it was going to start. Schuldt would indicate Five, and the men would look puzzled and then slowly return to their friends.

Shortly before the hour, Carfryn slipped into the hall and stood at the back.

***

The men were milling about, talking and grumbling, and Carfryn watched as Five called a couple of times for quiet.

You're going to have to do better than that, Carfryn thought.

"SHUT UP!" Five suddenly bawled, and the men looked at her, startled, but they stopped talking.

"All right," Five said, in a high, nervous voice, "good. You have my thanks. And the thanks of Freya Aelfrethe, who lies in her room recovering from sickness. I know you are here because you wish to pledge help to her. And that is only fitting, for one of her renown, that she should have the goodwill of Hargest's finest men."

Carfryn saw one man lean over and murmur into his neighbour's ear. The other man laughed.

"I appeal to you," Five said, "first of all as a soldier of Hargest."

Somebody else said something and there was a little ripple of laughter across the crowd. Five went red. Carfryn hadn't heard what the man said, but guessed it was a joke about Five not appealing to them at all.

Don't stand above them, she thought.

"I mean," Five said, "as a soldier of Hargest, I-"

"You're not a soldier," said a voice. "You're a fucking cook."

This got a big laugh and Five stood for a moment, silent.

"Get on with it," said another man. "Tell us how Freya is, so we can revenge her on these bastards."

"I speak to you as her, as her voice," Five said, stumbling on the word.

"You're not her voice," said another man. "So what are you."

"Get back to the fucking kitchen, girlboy," said somebody else. This got cheers.

Carfryn was sweating with mortification for Five, who stood there, looking at them all.

Five looked across them, to the back of the hall, directly at Carfryn. One or two of them turned and glanced briefly at the hooded, veiled young woman standing at the back, and turned back to Five. Men were starting to turn away, uninterested. The meeting had barely begun and they had already lost interest.

Let someone else speak, Carfryn begged her silently. Give it to Schuldt, or Dovid, even. You were right. You can't win with them.

Five looked aside for a moment, cleared her throat, swallowed, looked back at them, and stuck her fists on her waist, and smiled at them.

"All right," she said, in her normal voice, but louder, so they could hear her. "All right. Let's have it. Anyone remember?"

One of the men said something, but Carfryn couldn't hear what. Five ignored him and went on smiling at them.

"Fat Five," Five said. "Five Hundred Pounds. Lard-arse. Mardy Boy."

She was silent again, and they laughed, but then she waited for them to stop laughing. When they were silent, she paused, for a moment.

"Yeah," she said, quieter, more conversational. "You all know me. Piss-Britches. All Gravy And No Meat. Tiny. Anyone else got one?"

"Five Pies and a Bag of Shit," said a voice.

"Five Pies and a Bag of Shit. Thank you, Nils Svordir," Five said, nodding in the man's direction. "Old one but a good one. Anyone got any more."

She paused, and the men stared at her, amused but puzzled.

"Can't believe you'd forget them so quick," Five said. "All my lovely names."

She was silent for a moment, and they waited.

"I remember them," she said. "Shitless. Pus-Gut. Barn Door. Bran Tub. Limpdick. Hidey-hole. Shitstick."

She smiled down at them, and the ones who'd been leaving paused, to see what she was going to say next.

"And yes, let's not forget," she said, "the ever popular, 'cunt'."

She kept smiling. The men had stopped smiling, and were staring at her, affronted.

"As in, where's the meat, cunt. Bring more beer, cunt. Clean this shit up, cunt."

She paused, to see if anyone would say anything, and they just looked back at her.

Carfryn could see that some of them were smirking resentfully.

"Lucky I don't hold a grudge, eh," she said.

"Lucky for you," said a man at the front.

"Mm, no, lucky for you, Carl Orneby," she said. "Yeah, you know who I am. I was the one who hid under the food wagon when things got tasty. I was a rubbish soldier. Good cook, but what's that matter."

"Not a lot," said Carl Orneby.

"You complaining, Carl," she said. "Wasn't I nice to you? When you got the shits before Vargr's Farm, so you could barely get out of bed, who made sure you got hot broth?"

Carl Orneby said nothing.

"Mats Bernink," she said, "see you've got yourself some nice new teeth. Nah, they look good, mate. But you remember when you lost them all and you couldn't chew? Who cut up your food so's you wouldn't have to?"

"What you want," said one of the men, "a tattoo?"

"I've got some, thanks," Five said, and she opened the top button of her shirt, and showed them the row of five men and more than a dozen dragons, marked into her skin.

"Where'd you earn them," said the man, sneering.

"Freya Aelfrethe made me get 'em," she said. "So maybe you should ask her where I earned 'em."

She slowly buttoned up her shirt again.

"And so a lot's changed," she said, "and some of you must be wondering what happened. Why am I standing up here? You don't trust me. Don't think I would, if I were you."

"So you were a girl, all that time," Carl Orneby said sourly.

"Yeah," Five said, widening her eyes with mock amazement. "Just think of all the pussy you missed out on 'cause none of you noticed."

This got a grudging laugh. Five looked over at the door and she stopped smiling. Carfryn looked over.

A tall youth in a well-cut coat stood in the doorway, staring at her, his face stern. Goran, the youngest of the baron's legitimate sons. Freya's half-brother.

Carfryn saw the look that passed between him and Five, and she wondered what it meant. Five kept staring at the youth, her face absolutely without expression, until he walked over and stood at the rear of the crowd, his back to Carfryn.

"Well," Five said, "Lots of familiar faces. Lots of old friends. It's nice to be home."

She looked at them all for a minute.

Carfryn thought, Come on, you have their attention, now. Hit them.

"You want to know how Freya is," Five said. "She's had burning gut. We've fixed it. She's getting better. But she needs rest. But..."

She thought for a moment.

"That's not really what you want to know, is it," she said. "So, I'll tell you. And whatever you think of me, and whatever you reckon you know about me, I've got one thing over on you lot. I've been by her side, day and night, for a whole year. If anyone knows how things stand with her, it's me. Nobody else.

"Not all here were at Casman," Five said, "and I want to talk just to those who were. If you weren't there, then listen and learn.

"I want to go to back to what happened. Let's just tell ourselves it again, because a story's been told about it, and it ain't a true one. Now, if I tell anything that wasn't how it was, you say so, and we'll have it out, all right? Let's just tell the truth, now, eh?"

She waited. Nobody said anything. She took a step forward.

"So we went to Casman, a whole lot of us. And in charge were Freya, and Ulf Jansson, and Snorri Midlafsson. And when we got there, we were commanded by Snorri to wait behind the ridge. And Freya and Ulf and Snorri went over the top to look around. Is it not so?"

Nobody protested. Five nodded.

"Now, a while later, Snorri comes over the ridge and asks me to find his bow and arrow, and bring them, together with food and water. So I find 'em and bring 'em back to him, but he's already gone back over the ridge. So I go over and bring 'em what's needed, and wait to see if they want anything else.

"So, then, Freya goes down into the village, right? And has a look around. And she meets the old bloke, and they're walking and talking. And Ulf's got his glass, hasn't he? And he's watching what's going on. And I can't see too clearly. But then she goes into a hut and comes out, and when she comes out, they start moving her towards this cliff, right? Is this not what Ulf Jansson said happened? Is this different from his tale?"

"No," Carl Orneby said.

"So Ulf is watching all this," Five said, "watching and watching, and he can see what's going on, and I can't, not clearly, but then we hear Freya cry out. You all know what her voice could do. She wasn't even doing that. It was more of her talking loudly.

"But Ulf doesn't do anything. He just keeps watching. And then that thing, came out. And Freya started shouting, didn't she? And still, Ulf doesn't do nothing. He just keeps watching. And then that thing, it takes Freya, and it pulls off her armour and all, and...and still, Ulf Jansson doesn't do nothing. Just keeps watching."

Five was silent for a moment, looking at them all.

"So," she went on, "What am I doing? Well, I could tell you I was telling Ulf we had to do something, but what fucking good would that be? Cause he'd say I didn't, and the only other person who knows what I said and did is Snorri, and he's dead. But that's not even the point."

She scowled at them, angry and upset.

"Point is, whatever I said, I did nothing. I waited for Ulf to do something. But he didn't. And I didn't, either. And, never mind that he's a great leader and I was a fucking squire, that's on me, all right? Just in case you think I'm blaming it all on you. Don't matter what I said. I did nothing. And I have to live with that."

Five fell silent again.

"So then," she said, "Freya's shouting about vengeance, and then that thing takes her in its mouth, don't it? Cause you all hear her shouting, don't you? And you all come forward over the ridge, to see what's going on. That was good, that you did that. Cause you did more than I did, there. But that's when Ulf Jansson knocks me out. Cause the next thing I know, I wake up that night where he left me, head splitting like a bastard, and Freya's lying a way off.

"And you've all gone."

She stared at them, silenced this time by some outside thing, as if something had been put in her way. She looked at them for a long moment.

"This is the bit where maybe you can help me," she said at last. "'Cause I've been thinking about it for a year, and I still don't understand.

"Why did you leave us?"

She looked at them, and her face was bitter, and her eyes were glistening, but her voice was steady.

"I'm serious," she said. "Maybe you can tell me, cause I don't understand it. Why did you leave us there? Why didn't you take us with you? I want to know, honest."

"You going to whine about it, girlboy," Carl Orneby said.

"I'm not whining, Carl," she said, smiling bleakly. "Best thing that ever happened to me. I got to save her fucking life, which is more than you did."

Half the men erupted angrily and she said nothing. The other men turned on the ones who were angry with her, and scuffles started to happen.

"SILENCE!"

It was Goran, the baron's son. So, Carfryn thought, you've finally got the hang of the Hargest war cry.

He walked quickly around the edge of the crowd and stood in front of the dais, facing them, pale and furious.

"Snorri's Five," he said, and his voice was shaking, "is not the only one who would like to know why this happened."

Five glanced down at him, startled; Goran had not gone to Casman. Five raised a hand.

"All right," she said, "look, I can understand why you'd leave me. I probably looked dead. So did Freya. But why didn't you bring us back to bury us."

There was a long pause, then Carl Orneby said "Ulf told us not to."

"Because Ulf told you not to," said Five in a level voice.

"He looked at Freya," another man said. "He said she was defiled. That we were to leave her."

"'Defiled'," Five said. "Right."

Five paused, and looked at no-one, and absently rubbed her own neck, as if in the grip of a memory that was too vivid in her mind for her to talk about. She covered her mouth with her hand, for a moment, and then came back to herself, and looked at the man.

"Did you know what had happened to her," she said, staring at him, unblinking. "Or could you guess."

There was a silence.

"We could guess," the man muttered.

"And that was enough," she said softly. "That was enough, that you couldn't touch her."

"We didn't know what the fuck that thing was," said the man, with feeling. "I won't speak for anyone else, but...she looked dead to me, and I just wanted to get out of there and go home."

"What's your name, mate," Five said.

"Jan Persson," he said. Five nodded.

"Also," said another man, "every last one of those bastards had a weapon."

"Right," said Five, nodding again, not mocking; Carfryn could see that she hadn't known that before.

"So Ulf pulled us out," said another man.

"I see," Five said. "But, you didn't know for sure she wasn't dead?"

"She looked it," said Carl Orneby. "Spat out the mouth of a giant worm? I'd be fucking dead."

"Yeah, you would be," Five said with a thin smile.

"I know," Orneby said, "she's her..."

"And you're you, and I'm me," Five said. "It's all right, gents. I understand better, now."

She looked away from them, and rubbed her face and sighed.

"I just wanted us to get the truth out," she said. "Because I know we all thought she was the shieldmaiden, and if she stopped being a maiden, and the loss of her honour, and the weakness of women, and blah, blah, blah, blah..."

She let it run out.

"Look," she said at last, "we all failed her. Me more than you. I saw it happen, and I didn't do nothing, 'cause I waited for someone to tell me it was wrong, and no one did. But, come on, lads."

She looked at them, shaking her head in sorrow.

"I fucking knew. Just like you did. Come on, let's be honest. We were all fucking cowards. Never mind me, but you should have brought her back. You know that. You shouldn't have left it up to me. You should have told Ulf to fuck off. And when he told his tale, you should have said, no, it weren't like that."

She stood there, biting her lip, staring at them, daring them to disagree with her.

None of them said a word.

"Didn't anyone say that," she said. "Anyone."

"There was one," said Carl Orneby.

"Tell us," Five said.

"That Siegfa," he said.

Carfryn leaned forward very slightly, to hear better.

"What did he say," Five said.

"He said that Ulf wasn't telling the truth."

"Who did he say this to?"

"Anyone who'd listen," said another man.

"Is this the Siegfa who..."

"Whose sister killed him," said Carl Orneby. "Cause he was carrying on with their girl."

"Yeah," Five said, "I heard that."

"The girl who does for Ulf, her bloke wrote the song about that," said another man.

"Good song," Five said. "But. Isn't it a bit odd."

"Odd?"

"Well," Five said, "you come back from Casman, Siegfa goes around telling everyone Ulf is lying, then the next thing you know, his sister's offed him for carrying on with their girl."

"No," Carl said. "Everyone knew about him and the girl."

You damned liar, Carfryn thought, staring daggers at the back of Carl Orneby's head.

"Everyone?" Five looked at Carl sidelong. "Spend much time with the maids, do you, Carl?"

"No," Carl said.

"No, you don't," Five said. "I lived in that kitchen. I was the oldest one there. I knew that girl. Tine Skorvsdottir. Lovely girl. Out of reach of the likes of me. Tine was honest as a summer's day. If she'd been carrying on with Siegfa, she wouldn't have kept to herself."

"Oh, so you think," Carl said.

"I knew her and you didn't."

"Well," Carl said, with a pitying smile, "you can't have known her that well, love. Because everybody knows her name wasn't Tine. It was Ellantyne."

Five paused.

"No, Carl," she said gently. "That's only her name in the song."

He stared at her for a moment.

"Was it?" He was frowning, but he looked at the man next to him, who looked uneasy.