Midsummer, Part 1

Only Leif was present at breakfast. He explained that his father was busy reprimanding his brother, who had sneaked back from the mountain pasture while Erik was hunting the wolf that plagued the land.

When she had eaten, she fetched Fenris and rode across the plains, letting him bathe in the cool waters.

"So, you are the famed horse tamer?" Startled, she turned to see Bjørn seated nearby, looking at her.

"Are you the former owner?"

He rose and took a step closer to her. "I was deceived into buying him. By then, it was too late-he was untamable."

"He was frightened, but he is much better now."

"I can see that. He is the finest steed I have ever beheld," he said, his gaze steady upon her.

"I sought you, actually," she said, feeling warmth rise to her cheeks.

"By coincidence, I was looking for you, too." Bjørn said.

"I wished to thank you-for yesterday and for holding your silence."

"There is no need for thanks," he said, his eyes kind. "I wished to see that you were well after that."

"I am all good. So, you are kin to Erik Gustavson?"

"To his late wife. She was my aunt."

Her breath caught-she had never heard her mentioned nor dared ask.

"How long has it been since she passed?"

"She died when Leif was but a child, claimed by the wasting disease-he, too, carries it."

"I did not know."

"Few do. But the medicines keep him strong. I am here to fetch more by order of the king."

"Does Erik make them?" Her eyes widened in surprise.

He took her hand, his grip firm. "Come, I will show you."

Deeper into the forest, he knelt and plucked a small plant. "Do you know this?"

She shook her head.

"Bog mint. It grows in a few places. Nearby are crowberry, cloudberry, heart flower, and birch bark. Together, they form a remedy for the wasting disease."

She knew of the illness-terrible and unyielding. "Is this why Erik guards the forest?"

"Indeed. Many think he is mad, but he is wiser than most," he responded with a laugh.

A harsh voice interrupted them. "So, you are well acquainted now!" It was Ragnar.

She ignored him, her gaze still on Bjørn. "I had to thank the one who saved my life."

"May I speak to the lady in private?" Ragnar interjected, his voice sharp.

Bjørn stepped closer, blocking him. "I'm not sure she'll want to."

"And why wouldn't she?" Ragnar asked.

Sigrid finally turned to face Ragnar, her voice cool. "It's fine. I can handle it." She grasped Bjørn's hand. "I don't know how to thank you."

Bjørn glanced down at her. "You owe me nothing."

Sigrid saw Ragnar's jaw clench, his anger rising as he observed them. When Bjørn turned to leave, Ragnar moved toward her.

"Stop, stay right there. After yesterday, you'll keep your distance from me."

"But it was just a joke, dear Sigrid," Ragnar said, laughing a little.

"A joke? It nearly cost me my life!"

"You're exaggerating."

Sigrid's voice rose with frustration. "You could have ruined my reputation, Ragnar! Do you think my father-or my brothers-wouldn't have heard?"

Ragnar's expression faltered. "I had too much ale. Can you forgive me?"

"No," she said, turning to leave. But Ragnar stepped into her path, blocking her way.

"Do you know who I saw today?" Ragnar's voice lowered, a sly grin forming.

Sigrid froze and stared at him, uneasy.

"Your eldest brother," Ragnar said, his grin widening. "They're looking for you, Sigrid. Growing worried, I think. And perhaps they'd like to hear about that kiss."

He made exaggerated kissing sounds.

She stammered while feeling her cheeks get flushed. "You wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I? Then stay clear of Bjørn."

They stared each other down for a tense moment before Sigrid spoke, her voice calm but firm. "You're only making this worse."

She turned on her heel and stormed down the hillside to where Erik stood, holding Fenrir's reins.

"Sigrid! There you are."

"Sorry. I completely forgot about him."

"He hadn't wandered far. Word reached me that they found you in the water yesterday, Sigrid. What happened?"

"I'm afraid I don't remember," she lied. "I think I was sleepwalking and possessed by the water spirit. It happened once before, when I was a little girl. Had it not been for my father, I would have drowned." The last part was true.

A look crossed his face-a clear sign he did not have faith in her at all. Even though most people believed in and respected the water spirit in these parts.

He lured people in with beautiful music. He pulled those captivated by the music underwater, and they never returned. At times, she had even caught herself wishing it would happen. To live beneath the water for all eternity didn't seem all that terrible.

"At least it was good that Bjørn was there."

She definitely agreed with that.

"He is a fine man, and... well, I hope Ragnar has behaved honorably in my absence."

"Oh yes, exemplary," she said, a bit too loud, turning to meet Ragnar's gaze, watching them from a distance.

"I must apologize for his behavior," Erik said, his discomfort clear, which made her uneasy as well. "He has carried much anger since his mother passed. They were very close."

"It's all right," she said, taking the reins from him.

"One more thing, Sigrid. There shall be a Midsummer celebration here tomorrow. Perhaps it would be wise for you to remain hidden... in case anyone recognizes you, I mean."

Still seething with anger after her conversation with Ragnar, a fearless resolve filled her. "No, I think it is time I faced my fears. They will find out I'm here one day, regardless. Unless... unless you mind, of course."

"I do not mind. I'll keep watch, and we'll know if anyone draws near to my lands. Indeed, it would be quite foolish to strike when the king's knight is here. I'll ask him to stay close by a little longer until things settle."

"And what of the king?"

"The king owes me a few favors," he said with a grin.

●●●

She dressed in the finest gown she had brought with her-a red silk dress. She intended to be noticed. Thora braided her hair back from her face.

The smoke from the bonfire was thick in the air, a dark, spiced blend of wood, earth, and a sweet hint of fat. The old, stubborn logs creaked in the flames that glistened over the black water.

She held on to Thora's arm as they made their way down, where drunken revelers had already gathered around the fire. Music from lutes echoed across the high mountains.

"All eyes are on you," Thora said before she recognized the girls standing near the fire and pulled Sigrid along with her.

"What are you doing here?" One girl asked, her long, dark hair woven into a single braid. Sigrid recognized her from that day at the market. It was the girl who had braided her hair.

"There are rumors you're both in a convent!"

"We've been here, Gudrun," Thora answered. "Sigrid is in hiding."

Another girl with light blond hair stood in silence next to her, staring at Sigrid.

"With the enemy?" Gudrun burst out before Sigrid could answer, sounding more impressed than shocked.

Sigrid caught Ragnar standing just across from them. He looked stunned at the sight of her, as though he were staring at someone who had returned from the dead. She smiled and gave him a polite curtsy.

"Are you flirting with Ragnar Erikson?" Gudrun asked, surprised.

"No," she said, like the words tasted bitter. "I'm only gloating a bit," her eyes fixed on Ragnar. The sun-kissed skin he had stood in stark contrast to the loose white linen shirt he wore.

"So you are gloating, you say?" Thora said with a smirk.

"I'll fetch us something to drink," she said abruptly, catching sight of Ragnar heading straight for them. The realization sent a jolt through her, though she masked it with a swift, practiced smile.

Before Thora or anyone else could respond, she melted into the crowd. Turning back for just a moment, she caught sight of Ragnar standing alone as he scanned the throng, searching for her.

In her haste to disappear, she didn't watch where she was going and turned straight into a tall, well-dressed man. The collision sent her stumbling backward, and she landed on the ground with a thud.

"My apologies," the man said, smiling as he bent down to help her to her feet. "Are you all right? And, if I may ask, who are you?"

"Sigrid," she said, flustered as she brushed herself off. "I'm sorry, but I must hurry."

She glanced over her shoulder at Ragnar, who was now talking to Thora and the other girls while fanatically searching the masses.

Without giving the man a chance to say more, she darted away, vanishing further down the meadow.

There she found Bjørn sitting upon a flat stone at the water's edge, his broad frame hunched slightly forward, one hand resting atop Balder's head as the dog lay contentedly in his lap.

Lost in thought, he gazed at the horizon.

She approached, her footsteps muffled by the damp earth. "You've won him over, it seems."

Bjørn turned his head, startled out of his reverie. His dark gray eyes met hers.

"He came to me," he said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Perhaps he senses I mean him no harm."

She tilted her head, studying him for a moment. "He is not so easily impressed, and he does not take kindly to strangers."

"Then I am honored," he said, his hand stroking the dog's fur.

Sigrid moved closer and lowered herself to sit beside him, the hem of her gown brushing against the stones. "You've a way with creatures. It is a rare gift."

Bjørn shrugged. "I prefer their company to most men."

"Do you think everyone is so terrible?"

He hesitated, as though weighing his words. "Definitely not all."

Her gaze drifted to the water, where faint ripples marred the surface. "Perhaps I am one of them, then."

Bjørn glanced at her, his brow furrowed. "Why would you say such a thing?"

"I've been running, hiding, and deceiving those I love. What does that make me, if not a coward?"

"More like a survivor," he said, his voice low but firm.

She turned to look at him. "My brother would have called me weak and selfish."

"You've your reasons. Reasons that I am certain weigh upon you. That does not make you weak, Sigrid. It makes you strong."

She turned away, her gaze falling to Balder, who shifted and rested his head against Bjørn's arm.

"And what of you?" She asked, changing the subject. "Do you not grow tired of your duties serving the king?"

"It is not a simple life."

Sigrid fell silent, pondering his words. She rose to her feet, wobbling as the stones shifted beneath her. "Do you think I could escape you? Were I to try?" she asked, a playful glint in her eyes.

Bjørn looked up at her, surprised by the change in her demeanor. He rose as well, towering over her. "I think not," he said with a faint smile.

She stepped closer, her gaze locked with his. "We shall see."

Before he could respond, she darted to the side, slipping beneath his arm and running with all the speed her legs could make. Her laughter echoed across the lake as she glanced over her shoulder, only to find him there in swift pursuit.

It was not long before his arms encircled her, lifting her off the ground. She shrieked, struggling in vain against his grasp.

"Caught you; there is no escape now."

"Unhand me!" she said, though the laughter in her voice betrayed her.

"As you wish," he said, setting her down.

She shot him a mock glare. "You fight unfairly."

"Well, I fight to win," he said with a grin.

"So, what are you two doing here, alone?" The mountains echoed with Ragnar's voice.

●●●