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The atmosphere in the farmhouse was tense as they waited for the cover of dusk to begin the sabotage mission. Yet even so, there was something strangely calming—almost normal—for Lagertha in watching her son play with his half brothers while Aslaug sat nearby, nursing baby Sigurd and gently chiding her boys as needed. Lagertha had expected to feel envy and humiliation on meeting again the woman who had given her former husband what she could not, yet she couldn’t muster up those emotions. Instead, she felt pity and perhaps some gentle affection for the princess, who seemed to be well out of her depth trying to manage her family in such a rustic place. Her heart did not wish to see them suffer so, and she was pleased that she was doing what she could to return them to their accustomed comfort and safety.
Ragnar sat next to her, fortifying himself for the operation with a hearty meal. "I cannot tell you how it gladdens my heart to see you, Lagertha. I understand now why you wished to leave, but I am grateful to once again have you in my company. I have missed you not only as a woman, but as a friend."
“Thank you.” She favored him with a tired, but genuine smile. "My new husband thinks I wished to do this for you, to shame him. He does not understand that you alone are not the only person I left behind in Kattegat." She looked around the room, eyes settling on the many people she had missed. "I am pleased to see so many here whom I have loved." She glanced back over at him. "There is one I do not, however. Tell me: Where is Athelstan?"
A dark look came over Ragnar's face, and he chewed thoughtfully on a bite of bread. When he had finally finished, he sighed. "I took Athelstan with us when we raided west with King Horik. When we heard of Jarl Borg's treachery, I assumed he would return with us—return to defend his home—but he chose to stay behind. Horik wanted to remain there, and so requested him as a translator. He agreed." He mopped meat juices from his plate with another chunk of bread.
She frowned at him. "I do not understand. Why did you not just take him with you anyway?"
He smiled sadly. "I no longer had the right to do so."
She stared at him in shock. "Are you saying you freed him?"
He nodded, and stuffed the soggy bread in his mouth.
"After so many years of avoiding that, what made you change your mind?" She glanced around the room. "I thought you were worried about what others might think," she whispered.
He took a sip of ale before responding. "I was. I am, still. The reason for that worry still stands. But Athelstan has truly become a Northman, or at least so I would like to believe. Honestly, you would not recognize him now." He grinned at her. "His hair has grown long, and his beard is full. He stopped wearing that cross and prays to Odin. He has developed some great skill with an axe and shield."
Lagertha had to laugh a little. It seemed absurd to think of the timid, soft-spoken Christian she once had known conducting himself like the manliest of Northmen. "I must say that I cannot quite imagine it, but I believe you."
"Had I not seen his changes with my own eyes, I would not believe it myself, but change he has . . . in many ways." Ragnar's cheeks flushed, and he looked down at his plate. "He proved himself very well in our first battle in England, and so I gifted him with an arm ring. He was delighted enough that he spent most of the next morning showing it to anyone who crossed his path."
That, she could see the young man doing. "It seems he really is one of us now, then. What would have made him choose to stay behind?"
"Would that I could see into his mind and learn the answer to that. My head wants me to believe that he is only trying to fulfill a duty to my aspirations and help us maintain relations with the Saxons. My heart, however, is not so certain. There was some flicker of unease in him the day before I left. We had raided another Christian temple, and he killed some of the men there. I believe the guilt over that may have driven a wedge in him."
She winced. "Then you think he may have turned against you? I cannot see that."
He shrugged. "I could not see it myself, but as you know, I am prone to fits of arrogance. Perhaps I believed, as I did with Rollo—as I did with you—that I was so impressive a man that he could not choose against me."
“I won’t argue against your having moments of arrogance.” She nudged him with an elbow. "And I understand that things may have changed since I left. Yet, I can tell you this: When I decided to leave, I asked him to come with me. He refused, and very nearly refused my request for help in getting me the cover I needed to go. I believe that misleading you like that, with that hunting trip, was one of the most difficult things he ever had to do. I love him, and I believe he had love for me, too, but his devotion to you was unmatched. Unless you have been gravely mistreating him all this time, I am sure it still is."
Ragnar scanned her face. His hand moved like he wanted to touch her, but he pulled it back. "I hope that you are right, but I still have doubts. More than that, however, I also have fears for his safety."
"Do you think the Saxons would try to attack, if they saw the forces had been divided?"
"Perhaps, but I met with the king of the country that we landed in: Ecbert of Wessex, not Aelle of the North. He seemed to me to be a reasonable, if determined man. We were on the verge of making a deal—some of our warriors in exchange for some of his land—when I got the news of Kattegat. I therefore cannot see him attacking unprovoked. But King Horik . . ." He leaned toward her, and his voice dropped to the barest hiss. "I do not trust that man. He seems to live for destruction and plunder. He claimed to want Athelstan for help with negotiation, but in my years of experience with him, I do not believe him to be a negotiating man. It was his decision to leave Jarl Borg behind; to break the agreement we had had to raid together. He must have known what might happen from such an insult. I knew it; that was why I left Rollo behind. So I fear for Athelstan's safety not only from the Saxons, but from within."
A nasty chill ran through her chest. Given how Horik had dragged Ragnar into his dispute with Borg in the first place, she could see him being treacherous enough to want to spoil Ragnar’s plans for exploration and possible settlement in the West. “Athelstan does not see this, though, does he?”
Ragnar shook his head. “I am in deep awe of Athelstan’s knowledge and intelligence on matters of fact, but his understanding of how people behave is woefully naïve. I feel as if I have left a newborn lamb among slavering wolves, and my heart is sick for it.”
The door to the farmhouse swung open, and Torstein strolled in, carrying a brace of rabbits he had shot to help supplement the evening meal for the large entourage. He spoke to Ragnar. “The sun has reached the tops of the western trees.”
Ragnar wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Then it is time we begin the trek to Kattegat. Bjorn?”
Their son looked up from tickling Hvitserk. “I am ready, father. My good friend Olrik,” he indicated the fair young man who sat nearby “has agreed to join us, to provide cover while we are burning the grain.”
“And one of my company will come as well.” Ragnar rose, and nodded toward one of his men. “Ready our horses.”
As Ragnar strolled over to bid farewell to his wife and small children, Lagertha moved to meet her own son. He had proven himself skilled in training, but she still worried about the potential for him to be harmed in this, his first venture into real danger. She trusted Ragnar to keep him as safe as possible, but she was still a mother; she still worried.
She watched him mount his horse, and the small party venture forth on their way to the village. As they left, her heart ached, but not just for her son and the former husband for whom she still cared. She ached as well for the innocent young man who once had been her closest friend, who was now in a dangerous place so far away. Her usual instincts to raise a sword and shield in protection of those she loved were useless, now. There was but one thing left she could do.
“Keep them safe, Allfather,” she murmured as the party rode out of sight. “Keep all of them safe.”