I was Jarl of Orkney now. I would answer to no one but myself. I stood a little taller, pushed out my chin and together we wound our way to the Mead Hall.
The room quietened, pulsing with tension. Estrid stood at the front of the chamber, dressed as she had the day of our wedding. She wore a long white smock, embroidered with red and gold. Her eyes were coal black. She held out her arms.
‘Place the child before me,’ she said, pointing to the place before the fire, where not twelve hours before, my husband’s body had lain. I felt myself begin to shake. I could do nothing but think of where they had taken him. What they had done with him. Donada touched a hand to my elbow to steady me.
‘Here?’ I croaked.
I lay him down, still wrapped, wriggling and whining. Angus cocked his head back and forth, listening to the noise. As the ceremony began Estrid picked him from the floor and held him aloft. She studied him with the same reverence that I had no doubt my father’s priest had when he thought about new ways, he might find me salvation.
Next, she passed him to Thorkell. I felt helpless. He took my child gently as a father. He was as close to Sigurd as his own blood. He looked on my boy with adoration. His long thick hair scraped neatly back and the golden chain bearing Thor’s hammer hung gently against his chest.
Every man and woman in the hall watched on in silence. I do not think that it was Odin who saved us that night. If it had not been for Thorkell, we would not have survived.
Finally, Thorkell broke the silence. ‘By the All-Father, this is Sigurd’s son. There can be no mistaking.’
My son was passed again sunwise to Estrid, who waited with open arms. Whatever she decided, I would not allow my son tobe cast out to die in the cold with the livestock. I waited. Heart beating wildly in my chest.
‘It is done,’ she said.
The crowd around us erupted. Voices echoed among the rafters. A hundred ale horns were raised, each of them in celebration of my son.
‘Dearest Freyja, we name this child Thorfinn Sigurdson. Son of Sigurd. Son of Olith.’ She sprinkled a small spray of water about his forehead. ‘Nafenfest.’
As Estrid came to the end of her long recital, Thorkell took the golden chain from around his neck and placed it around my son’s.
‘His name is fastened.’ Estrid called out. ‘Welcome, Thorfinn Sigurdsson.’
Chapter 39
Rebirth
Thorfinn was wrapped warmly once more and placed in my arms. I felt as though I could finally breathe again. Finally spend time in the joyous moment, without fear.
Estrid clasped her arms around me and kissed me on the cheek. ‘You brought us blessings in such sadness.’
I stared down at my son. Blessed and named as his father. I hoped I had done my husband proud. I fought back tears.
‘Estrid, could I have a name fastened? As my son has?’
She busied herself, folding linens and lifting off her headdress. ‘You are Olith, that is your given name. What would you want with another?’
I studied Thorfinn sleeping soundly. Unaware of all the commotion his arrival into the world had caused. ‘I am Norse now,’ I said. ‘As my husband and my child. I wish to be known by a Norse name.’
She took my hand in hers. ‘Then I shall name you. Your name has been carved in the runes of Yggdrasil, the World Tree. Your name will be spoken as long as men have tongues. It will be spoken in the sagas and across the oceans. You are Gunhild.’ She raised her eyes to meet mine. ‘I also have an aunt Gunhild who is very good at fishing, you never know maybe it will make you better at it.’
We all laughed. I squeezed her hand.
‘Gunhild is a pretty name, and I wouldn’t be upset if I was a better fisherwoman,’ I said. ‘What do you think Thorfinn?’
His tiny nose wrinkled but he made no sound as I rocked him back and forth.
‘Gunhild it is.’ I whispered. ‘Will you name me, Estrid?’
‘It would be an honour, Jarl Gunhild,’ she said and squeezed my hand in return.
‘Aye,’ said Ligach. ‘I canna think of anything more fitting.’
Men and women crowded together, squeezed shoulder to shoulder around the central fire all drinking ale and swapping stories, faces alight with joy. I clutched Thorfinn tight, not quite knowing what was to come.
