Chapter Twenty-six

"Be safe, Tyr," she said, cupping his face in the palm of her hand. "And don't do anything stupid."

"I won't, Enid," he smiled, tearing himself free and reaching for his axe and shield.

So desperately she wanted to hold onto him. So desperately she wanted to keep him with her and far away from wherever Ivar was taking him. He wouldn't be the same when he came back. She knew that, knew that some part of that warmth, that innocence would be left behind him. If he even came back at all.

Ivar ran Freya's braids through his fingers, rubbing the back of her shoulders as she buried herself in his stomach and for a moment Enid almost found herself crying. She didn't know if she'd have the strength to watch them be parted, but then Freya pulled away, standing up taller and nodding to her father, and he smiled at her, tapping her chin with his knuckle and laughing softly.

It was much harder to watch him with Frigga, to see him take her from Enid and hold her to his chest. Frigga wouldn't remember this moment, she wouldn't remember that kiss on her cheek or the way Ivar looked at her, so warm and soft, and Enid found herself praying that it wouldn't be the last time this girl saw her father. Their eyes met when he handed her back, his then cold and harsh, then strict and stern, but she only nodded to him, holding Frigga on her hip so that she could watch her father go.

"Tyr," was all he said, and the boy smiled again, lifting a knee up and using Ivar's hand to mount his horse, and he was still smiling when they kicked off, when they left the yard and galloped to the front of those men to lead them away.

"Stop worrying, Enid," Freya sighed. "Everything has already been decided."

"I just don't want him to get hurt."

"He'll be fine," Freya smiled. "And if he's not, we'll see him again."

Enid wanted to believe that, she almost did for the shortest of moments, but she knew that wasn't true. Whoever was right, be it their gods or hers, they wouldn't go to the same place in death, one of them would surely be punished for worshipping the wrong side.

Enid was about to say that, about to shake her head and start crying when Freya smiled, when she jerked her head towards the house and said, "Come on, we've got work to do."

A little while later and Enid was sitting on a stool, Frigga clinging to her knees and dancing in front and Freya sitting behind, running a comb through Enid's hair, catching every knot and yanking them free with not so subtle glee.

"I thought you wanted to clean up," Enid sighed.

"We will after," Freya said, tearing her fingers through another knot and laughing when Enid hissed. "You should brush more often, Enid, or wear it in braids like me."

"I was just going to cut it off."

"Don't do that!" Freya gasped. "Your hair is so special."

Enid turned to her, studying Freya out of the corner of her eye as the girl worked. "It's just hair, Freya," she said.

"No one has hair like this, Enid, not that I've seen."

"Where I come from it's not that special," Enid shrugged. "Some people have it. My mother did too."

"Then you definitely need to keep it," Freya said. "Then you can think of her every time you see it."

Enid almost found herself telling the girl that she did already, that it sometimes hurt just to see her own reflection when she was out doing the laundry, but suddenly she had no voice, suddenly there was something sharp and pointed sticking in her throat and making her eyes sting.

"And besides," Freya said. "Ivar likes it. That's why he chose you."

"What?"

"He never told you?" Freya laughed. "I told you it was special."

Enid sat there, cradling herself in her arms, feeling something cold running so deep down inside her it chilled her bones. "So all this happened to me because of my hair?" she whispered.

"Don't say it like that," Freya sighed. "You always talk like nothing good has happened to you since you got here. Do you really hate it that much?"

Enid sighed too, wrapping her arms tighter around herself and dropping her shoulders.

"Up!" she heard and she looked then, seeing Frigga reaching for her, her little fingers curling and uncurling as she tried to get Enid to lift her.

Enid sat her on her lap, feeling as the girl traced her lips and poked at her cheeks and smiled. "No, it's not all bad," Enid said, "You children have helped me a lot."

"So stop acting like the world is ending."

Enid turned to look at Freya, seeing that strange mixture of warmth and iron again and she nodded. Freya smiled, twisting and turning Enid's hair one last time until her braids were wrapped around her head.

"There," she said. "No one's going to grab it now," she paused, watching Enid as she traced her braids with her fingers and then she said, "If something happens stay to my left, Enid."

"Ivar told me to stay on your right."

"I know that," Freya nodded. "But in a shield wall, your shield protects the person to your left. You're new to this, Enid, and you're not as good as me. Make sure you're on my left and I'll protect you."

Enid found herself smiling, feeling something warm stirring in the pit of her stomach. "I can't do that, Freya," she said. "I'm not good, I know that, but the only reason I learned to fight was to protect you two."

"You won't protect me if you die, Enid, and if you die right away, you'll only make it harder for me. You stay to my left and we work together."

Enid stared at the girl for a long moment, not knowing what to say, not knowing if she should listen to her heart or to Freya. "I can't-," she started.

"It's not about you," Freya cut in. "And it's not about me. There's only two of us to protect this place so we need to make sure we last as long as we can. What do you think will happen to Frigga if she's the only one left? If she's lucky they'll just kill her, but everyone knows Jarl Knut likes my father so chances are they'll use Frigga to make Ivar betray him. We need to be strong and we need to work together to make sure that doesn't happen."