“You are no man,” said Olaf, moving to strike her again.
Ragnvald pushed Olaf, hard, and he stumbled back. “I came to bring you your insult payment,” said Ragnvald. “But since now you’ve insulted me in return, I think we’re even.” Indeed, Olaf’s words were grounds for any man to duel.
“Would you like to bring that to trial too? Can’t you settle anything yourself?” Olaf taunted.
Ragnvald began to draw his sword. “I can settle this,” said Ragnvald. The circle of onlookers moved back, giving him room. Svanhild scrambled to her feet and caught Ragnvald’s elbow.
“Don’t do this,” said Svanhild. “He is unarmed. It would be murder.” She was right; Olaf did not wear a sword, only an eating dagger on his belt.
“Would you duel with me then, stepfather?” Ragnvald shouted. “Is that how we shall settle this?”
“You cannot even afford shields for a duel,” said Olaf.
“My father will provide them,” said Oddi from behind him, voice low and certain. “And I will stand as his second.”
“We can move to the dueling ground now,” said Ragnvald, anchored by Oddi’s support. “Fetch your sword.”
Olaf smiled in a way that made Ragnvald’s skin crawl: crafty and self-satisfied, for no reason Ragnvald could guess. He looked over at where Vigdis stood at the edge of the crowd.
“The girl is bleeding,” Olaf said to her. “See to her.”
Vigdis walked toward them, tugging her hair over one shoulder to keep it from tangling in the wind. Even in the midst of this, she transfixed Ragnvald. She seemed to look through his skin, seeing all his doubts, even as he pressed ahead.
“No,” Ragnvald muttered, looking at the ground. He was on less firm footing here. He hardly knew what he was going to do with himself, never mind Svanhild. “No,” he said again, raising his eyes to Vigdis’s. She was beautiful, but she was Olaf’s creature. “Svanhild comes with me.”
“With you?” Olaf scoffed. “Do you want her to follow you to Hel?”
“I would,” said Svanhild, standing up straight, letting her hand fall. Her jaw was swollen from Olaf’s blow, puffed out of true, and her eyes were red. Ragnvald should not have left her with Olaf for even a moment after the trial.
“Do we duel, stepfather?” Ragnvald asked.
Oddi cleared his throat. “My father will oversee the dueling ground,” said Oddi. “I must speak with him about it.” He put a hand on Ragnvald’s left arm, the one that did not hold his sword. The right was growing weary. “I cannot procure shields immediately either, cousin,” he said quietly.
“Tomorrow then,” said Olaf to Ragnvald. “We duel.”
“For my father’s land,” said Ragnvald. “Agreed?”
Olaf nodded. “Agreed.”
*
As he walked away from Olaf’s tent, with Svanhild in tow, the import of what he had done settled on Ragnvald. He had taken responsibility for Svanhild, and now she walked with him, a half-grown child who needed protection, who needed a place he could not provide. She was the bravest of girls, but she was still a girl, and he had no idea what to do with her.
“You can stay with Hrolf Nefia’s family for now,” he told her. “They may not want me to marry Hilda, but they must have some kin feeling left.”
“I must tell you,” said Svanhild. She repeated what had passed between Olaf and Solvi, nothing Ragnvald had not suspected, but it still made him angry now to hear that they had discussed it so openly, and Solvi’s lies at the trial. “You should have let me testify.”
“No,” said Ragnvald. “I should not have let you speak at all. They would have called you a liar. No one would believe a woman’s word over Olaf’s and Solvi’s.”
“That is not fair,” she said in a low voice.
He stopped stamping across the field to turn and look at her. “I should have been satisfied with Solvi’s payment. So should you.”
“It is your birthright.” Her voice rose. “You can’t let him win.”
“You cannot have everything as you will it.” He wished he believed as strongly as she did, that events would turn out for the best, that the most honorable man would always win. “I will kill Olaf tomorrow,” he promised her, “and he will suffer for what he did to you.” Svanhild gave him a look he knew was her trying to be brave for him, to keep her doubts to herself. He wished he had comfort and certainty to offer, but having none, kept silent.
Such was the speed of gossip at the ting that the news of the duel reached Hrolf’s camp before Ragnvald did. He had meant to tell Hilda of the trial and the duel, but Hrolf barred the way, with Egil glaring at him.
“I suspected you were a fool before,” said Hrolf. “And now you have proved it.” Ragnvald did not have much defense, since he could not think of the trial without cringing. Hrolf had been right; it was only Olaf’s anger, and the duel Ragnvald had provoked, that gave him any hope now.
“I have come to speak with Hilda,” he said instead.
“You and my daughter have nothing to say to each other,” said Hrolf.
“We have promised to each other.”
“She cannot promise herself to anyone.”
“Stop it!” Svanhild shrieked. “Stop arguing, for once.” Hrolf and Ragnvald both looked down at her. A few girls popped their heads out of the tent behind Hrolf, alert to the sound of any kind of domestic drama. Hilda pushed past all of them, giving them a withering look. She met Ragnvald’s eyes before bending down and dabbing at the blood on Svanhild’s lip with the corner of her apron.
Ragnvald took a deep breath. “Olaf was beating her for trying to testify against me,” he said.
“And he tied me up for the last two days,” Svanhild said, half gulping the words.
“She needs a place to stay for the rest of the gathering,” said Ragnvald. “May we rely on your hospitality?”
“Of course,” said Hilda.
Hrolf’s face looked like a thundercloud for a moment, but then he sighed and said, “Of course. You and my daughter have already dragged us into your quarrel with Olaf. The home of Hrolf Nefia is open to the needy.”
Ragnvald ducked his head. He had done ill to bring Svanhild into his quarrels. Hrolf had accepted her churlishly, and cast Svanhild as a beggar, but at least she would be safe tonight.
*
Oddi offered to let Ragnvald sleep in Hakon’s camp that night, within the circle of their guards and wealth, rather than out in the forest, and Ragnvald accepted, though he insisted on setting up his own tent. He might not sleep, and he did not want to annoy anyone of Hakon’s retinue with his wakefulness.