"Are you not going to say something?" she asked him as she fell into step with him.
"There is nothing else to say, Eira. You are crossing the line and you know it. It is only a matter of time before these people get you. What do you expect me to do then?"
Eira slid her fingers into his. "Fight them like you always do," she said to him.
Bjarni stopped walking and looked directly at her. "That is the problem, young lady. I cannot always be there to protect you. There is no guarantee that I'll be there whenever you need me or whether I shall live long enough to find someone to protect you."
The last words jolted Eira to the reality of her position. She was already older than the average age for marrying yet there was no one willing to take her in marriage. The fear of her abilities ran too deep and no family wanted the stigma of being associated with a bad witch.
"I am sorry, Father." Eira was crestfallen. It wasn't her intention to make things hard for her father but there was nothing she could do to avoid the urge to tell what she knew sometimes, especially if it were going to save someone else from harm or trouble.
“I know, Daughter. You have a good heart. I just wish you would learn to use your gift more wisely,” Bjarni told her as they entered the village.
Two women walked by and greeted Bjarni. It was considered courteous to greet the leaders of the clan no matter how you felt about them. One of the women started to say something but clamped her hand over her mouth, glaring at Eira instead.
"Eira! What was that about?!" Bjarni asked as they continued walking.
She looked at him, puzzled. "Nothing. What are you talking about?"
"Did you not see the way Alva looked at you? She wanted to say something but she didn’t dare. Surely, there must be a reason for her to act like that.”
“I know not, Father,” she replied. “Why do you think everything that happens here is caused by me?”
She didn't wait to hear the rest of his words, instead stomping off down the path into the woods. She planned to get some herbs for her medicine pouch. It was one thing to be treated as an outcast by her people because she was different. But it hurt when her own father assumed that she had something to do with the wavering moods of the village people.
Bjarni sighed and walked back to his hut. The girl was stubborn, way too stubborn. If he had his way, he would have married her off to the nearest man who would have her, even though clan leaders normally chose partners for their children with great care. It helped to strengthen ties and alliances between the clans and it kept wealth amongst the leading families. But when it came to Eira, there was always the whisper of evil that clung to her. No one wanted an evil witch in their family who might cause them harm through her malicious spells. Even if the rumors weren’t true, there would always be whispers surrounding her. As a result, while most of her friends were now married and having babies, Eira was doing whatever she pleased.
"Oh Heimdallr, grant her your mercy," he prayed as he walked on. He had heard of the new religion that was gaining a hold in his land; of course he had. Vikings returning from their travels had brought Christianity home with them and he could understand its attraction. Even King Haakon was encouraging the people of Norowegr to convert to the new ways. Bjarni had no argument with someone who wanted a different belief system. But for him, the old ways were best.
The smell of cooking filled his nostrils as he neared home. It bore the signature scent of his wife’s handiwork. He had been fed from that pot for a long time and the smell of the food always made his stomach rumble. He quickened his steps. He was famished and a hot meal was just what he needed. Sure enough, his wife was about to serve the food as he walked through the door. He smiled at her; together they had produced eight children and weathered many difficulties
"Welcome home," she greeted him.
"Astrid! I see you have made food." His greeting came with a wide grin.
"Yes. Now, sit and eat. There is much we need to discuss."
He set down his axe and sat down to eat. The meal was just the way he liked it, hot and tasty. He usually liked to take a bath at this time of the week but the food had to come first. The bath could wait until later.
Astrid watched as he ate. She couldn't remember how long they had been married but it was a long time and she knew him like she knew her own self. Her thoughts turned to their children. Four of their daughters were married and living in nearby villages. Two sons had married girls from other villages and brought them to live here, in the village of Thvengr. Only two children were left at home; Balder the youngest son and the obstinate Eira.
She thought about their lives over the years. They had been fortunate, blessed by the gods, she believed. Her husband had
