“If they stay married, people will feel that it means he endorses what she did,” Oddny had realized. “No one will believe he didn’t know about the charm, or they’ll think she has him under a spell. But—if you truly love him, couldn’t you compose a poem about this and spread it around? Clear his name?” Poetry was power; it was why skalds were so well paid.
“I could, but not quickly enough to stop Olaf from spreading his own twisted version of the story once he hears of it. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that the worst rumors travel the fastest, and they’re the most readily believed. People seldom listen to reason when they’d rather be angry,” Svein had replied heavily. “Besides, more than anything, I only did what I felt in my heart to be right.”
Oddny had never heard someone speak of what was right in their heart before, but he was, after all, a poet.
They’d made it to the ship without incident, and the crew Gudrod had enlisted seemed experienced, but it was only when the coast of Vestfold was out of sight that Oddny had been able to breathe freely. They’d sailed without stopping, for the weather had been perfect and the voyage smooth, and now, five days later, they were in Svealand, sailing through the maze of islands in the Maelar Bay until they came to the one they were looking for.
Her first glimpse of the market town of Birka astounded her. The hillfort sat on a massive rise of stone, and she could see small figures milling about atop it. Below, the town itself was made up of rows and rows of small houses and fenced-in yards, with seasonal tents and booths going up near the shore where all manner of ships were docked: small cargo vessels and warships, and other ships, from distant lands, crafted in a style she didn’t recognize.
By the time they disembarked and Gudrod’s crew set off to resupply for the return journey, Oddny knew that her healing runes had proven effective: Halldor could stand on his own, and could walk so long as one arm was over Oddny’s shoulder. He hadn’t spoken much during the voyage, which was just as well, since Oddny would’ve told him to save his strength. Now they made their way through the crowd at the docks, Svein at their heels, until Halldor saw someone he knew: the dockmaster. They went over to the man, and Halldor spoke with him.
Oddny barely heard what they said to each other, because she’d caught sight of a spectacle farther down the shore, and it made her stomach churn. A line of people stood in shackles, most sunburned and dressed in tattered clothing, some of them with shorn hair, all looking at their feet as potential buyers brushed by to examine them, and others haggled with the man nearby who seemed to be their keeper.
Is this where Signy was sold? she wondered, nauseated by the thought. But then Svein stepped up beside her, purposely blocking her view, and she tore her eyes away.
The dockmaster and Halldor finished up their conversation, and once the latter had retreated, Halldor said, “Kolfinna’s crew hasn’t sailed yet, but he wouldn’t tell me why. Her cottage is this way. She usually rents it out to merchants during the summer while she’s gone.”
Oddny had no desire to see the woman who’d stuck an axe in her mother, but she couldn’t deny that it was good news that she was still here.
They made their way to the cottage and knocked. Oddny heard rapid little footsteps inside before the door opened a crack, and she was confused when no one seemed to be there—until Halldor looked down, and Oddny followed his gaze to see the wary eye of a small child peering back at them, grubby fingers gripping the edge of the door.
Halldor smiled for the first time since Vestfold. “Hello, Steinvor.”
“Ha . . . do?” The door opened enough to reveal a little girl of no more than three winters. At first the child tilted her head sideways, considering him. Then her eyes widened in recognition and she threw the door open the rest of the way. “Hado! Hado is back!”
“Could we see your mother, please?” he asked her.
Steinvor grabbed two of his fingers and led him inside. Oddny, supporting him, had no choice but to follow. Svein trailed after and set down their things once inside.
The scents of sickness and rot hit Oddny as soon as she crossed the threshold. The cottage was small, with just a table, two benches, a hearth, and a bed pallet tucked into the corner. Someone lay on the bed, head turned toward the wall, and Steinvor released Halldor and scrambled up onto the blanket. “Mama! Hado is back!”
“I heard you the first time, little one,” groaned a voice that, even weakened, made Oddny’s blood run cold.
“I’ll give you one last chance, woman. Where are the others?”
The figure on the bed turned its head to face them—and when the light from the open door fell upon her mother’s murderer, Oddny gasped. Kolfinna’s face was sunken, her skin gray as ash, hair limp and greasy. Oddny had a feeling that she hadn’t moved from her bed in a very long time.
“Halldor Hallgrimsson,” the woman croaked, one corner of her mouth lifting in a smirk. “You looked like a drowning rat last time I saw you. Did you enjoy your swim?”
“Not particularly,” Halldor said. Svein dragged over one of the benches and brought it up behind them. Halldor and Oddny sat down, and Oddny slipped her arm from beneath Halldor’s shoulders and balled her fists in her lap. After giving the skald a grateful look, Halldor turned back to his former captain. “What’s happened to you?”
Kolfinna looked past him to Oddny, her colorless lips curving into a wan smile. “Why don’t you see for yourself?”
One gaunt hand emerged from beneath the blanket and dragged the side of it up to reveal her leg, and Oddny’s stomach flipped. Kolfinna’s thigh was wrapped in a bandage just above the knee, and from it a rash spread up to her torso and down her leg, the skin red and taut and swollen. Oddny knew without having to unwrap the bandages that this was the wound her mother had dealt Kolfinna moments before the other woman struck her down.
And as Oddny stared at it she heard Yrsa’s last words, soft as a whisper on the wind: “May the dragon devour you slowly in Hel.”
“Why not just take the leg?” Halldor asked. He looked a bit green.
Kolfinna put the blanket back over her leg and gave a hollow laugh. “By the time I faced the fact that this wound wasn’t going to heal, it was too late. I’m done for.” She closed her eyes and let out a long, rattling sigh. “Would that the valkyries would come for me, but it’s Hel’s hall I’ll be seeing. So be it. I can only hope the wolf’s sister gives everyone as warm a welcome as she did Odin’s son.”
Her head listed sideways, and Halldor leaned forward on the bench and grabbed her shoulder. “Kolfinna. Where did you sell Signy Ketilsdottir? Who bought her?”
The woman’s brow furrowed. “Who?”
“My sister,” said Oddny. “Tell us where she is, and I’ll do my best to heal your leg. I swear on her life.”
Kolfinna’s half-lidded eyes came into focus and landed on her. “No. Let your mother have her revenge, girl. There’s something else you can do for me instead.”
Halldor and Oddny waited. Steinvor, bored, clambered off the bed and went over to investigate Svein. Kolfinna’s gaze followed her for a moment before turning to Halldor.