Beware of Jezebel

8. The Judgement

            One warm August night Mary was scribbling on a parchment in tiny letters, not caring about the proper script, because writing supplies were sparse in general, and Ivar had bought her those months ago, before exiling her from the longhouse. And she had a lot to write down- medical and personal information, as well as local events- starting some sort of "Annals of Kattegat". She was sitting alone in her hut, chasing the darkness away with a single candle. The night was silent, the only sounds being the occasional swoosh of waves and the soft crackling of parchement. The longhouse stood dark and gloomy in the distance.

At first, Mary though her eyes had grown tired, as she suddenly saw a light flicker in one of the windows. But Mary knew she wasn't mistaken- a candle was definitely lit, and she had a creeping suspicion about what was happening. She dropped her quil and went outside, where a fair figure approached a stranger and both turned to go to the longhouse.

Mary raced toward Ubbe's and Hvitserk's huts with all her might, thanking the warm night for allowing her to go out in nightclothes.

Meanwhile, Ivar stirred awake in his bed. He patted the spot next to him, but it was empty. Absence of Freydis woke him up completely. He dropped to the floor and crawled out of the bedroom hastily. He had just reached the main hall when a shadow lunged at him from the darkness, the unmistakable glint of a blade gleaming menacingly, and Ivar cursed himself for the only time he left his axe in the bed.

Luckily for Ivar, before the assailant's strike could find its mark, Ubbe and Hvitserk materialized out of nowhere and tackled the intruder. While the three men wrestled on the floor, Ivar saw Mary bolting from the scene, deeper into the halls.

She burst through the door with far more force than she knew she could possess, and as Ubbe and Hvitserk rushed to catch up, their eyes widened as they saw Freydis lying on the floor, blood staining her white nightdress, and crying. Mary had already dropped to her knees beside the woman, and Ivar had dragged himself to the room as well. The sight that met them froze them in shock, except for Mary, who wasted no time: she pulled a rag from her apron and pressed it to the girl's wrist.

"You silly, silly girl!" Mary scolded Freydis, her voice anxious as she waved Hvitserk over to hold another wrist. "No action requires such drastic measures. We're all sound people, and no one will make any harsh decisions. Right?" She looked up at Ivar, whose face remained stony, radiating silent fury.

As Mary began bandaging Freydis, Ubbe, the sensible older brother he was, decided to begin sorting things through.

"Someone tried to kill the King of Kattegat, and his wife tried to kill herself. Well? What is going on here?" He crossed his arms and walked to the middle of the room.

"I let him in!" Freydis choked out between tears. 

"Who is the man?" Mary, still focused on her task, asked calmly.

"Lagertha's man... they told me to let him in,"

"Why did you agree?"

"It's because... because I could be safe then. Lagertha's people said I will live with her when Ivar dies."

Mary didn't notice Ivar had crawled close to them until he exclaimed, "Why do you want me dead, woman?!"

Freydis jumped in fright and Mary tsked at him.

"It's not your child... I couldn't give you children," Freydis said, her voice trembling. "But I promised to bear you children. I was worried you would kill me and the child if you found out. And now... I betrayed you, I must die! I betrayed the gods!"