The last of the winter month slipped away as quickly as sand through one's fingers. The snow melted from the trees, only to be replaced by emerald coloured leaves. The ground thawed, making it time for the farmers to plough their fields. The men all but disappeared from the village as they spent their days in the fields, on the ocean and in the forest.

One fine morning, when the dew was still on the grass, Stefán and Jón left the village to find a large reindeer that one of the children had seen. When the sun was high in the sky, the two men came back to the village, carrying a large bull between them. Both men looked victorious as they tied the kill up in the small, cool building used for preparing and preserving the animals.

Lára and I made our ways to the small building, knifes sharp and buckets in hand. I watched as the older woman split the deer from its tail to its neck. We each took hold of the skin on either side of the long cut and slowly started to peel it off.

Lára was silent as we skinned the reindeer, showing me how different she was from her husband who always had something to say. She shifted from foot to foot, trying to find a way to work and still be comfortable. She was due to give birth any day, but she refused to set her work aside and rest.

I tried to focus all of my energy and thoughts onto skinning the reindeer, but my mind kept floating to Jón. We had been taking our night-meal together every night, but barely any words passed between us. I knew nothing of the man, but we would be married in less than a year.

"Will Jón ever accept that we are to be married?" I asked, my question directed more to myself than to Lára.

"Only he can answer that question." Lára paused, and by the look that flashed across her face, I could tell the babe had moved. "Valdís, I shall tell you only the truth: Jón has his heart set on María and it shall take a long time for him to change that – if he ever does."

I despised the answer Lára had given me, even if I did know that it was true. "I shall be his wife; he will have to cut his ties with her. She has a husband, he already should have."

"It seems to me that he did the day she joined with Ragnar, but that did not stop him from loving her."

A small piece of me, deep down within, seethed with anger, shocking me. I pulled at the skin of the reindeer, using my knife when it stuck. "If Jón cared for María, why did he not marry her?"

Lára stopped her work, her hands dropping to her sides. Her only movements were from her eyes and her breathing. She studied me and I could tell she was debating whether to tell me what had to be said. "María's father was from here. During a raid, many years ago – do not believe this to a full extant, this is only what I was told. During a raid it is said that he saw a lass of great beauty. He did not return with the others. Stefán told me that it was because he joined that girl onsite. As everyone knows, taking your wife by force from her country is reason for skilnaður.

"I remember when María returned in her father's place, five years ago, it seemed as though the world held still. She had a letter from her father to Ragnar's father. They had been close – like Stefán and Jón – and there had been a promise between them. No one knew what the letter read except María, Ragnar and possibly Jón. People say it was asking Ragnar's father to take care of María after her father's death, but Ragnar's father had already passed."

Lára stopped and wiped her knife on her apron. The reindeer was bare; the skin peeled off and placed to the side to be made into clothing. She moved towards the door, motioning for me to follow her. With an unsteady step, Lára sunk down, crying out in pain. I rushed to her side, placing my hand under her elbow and pulling her upright. Soon her babe would be born.

"How did Jón come to be in love with María?" I asked, slowly helping the other woman towards her house.

"Ragnar was away on a raid, the first Stefán had allowed him to lead. Without him here, she met Jón. They were in separable – until Ragnar came back home. He and María were married in the winter."

For five years Jón had been in love with a woman he could not have. Pétur flashed to my mind – it was the same was it not? I loved him dearly, but I could never have him again.

We reached the house and I helped Lára inside. Stefán sat at the table, watching the flames in the hearth. The children lined the benches along the walls, their eyes closed and breathing slow.

"You should keep an eye on your wife, she is soon to give birth," I said as greeting to the man.

Stefán looked at us, a smile gracing his broad face. He stood and walked towards his wife, wrapping his arms around her large middle. "She shall give me a strong boy."

Lára shifted away from her husband, but there was the hint of a smile in her eyes. "I do not need anyone to keep an eye on my. I have—"

"—had four children already, yes we know," I finished with a smile. Lára was much too proud. "No more than a week and you shall be having another."

"I have already fed the children; shall you be taking your night-meal with us?" Stefán questioned as he look at me over his pregnant wife.

I shook my head, denying his request. "I must return to my house and begin Jón's night-meal. He shall be arriving shortly." I did not try to mask the disappointment in my voice.

Every fibre of my being begged my mind to let me stay, but no matter how much I wished to, I knew that I could not. Everything that haunted me seemed better when I was in the presence of Stefán, Lára and their children. Stefán always had a story ready to spin, never the same as before unless the children begged him for a favourite. They listened attentively to their father, hanging onto his every word as if it were a life line.

Their house was filled with infectious joy at all times; it was always teeming with life even at the darkest moments when the world itself seemed to stand still. It was so very different from mine. Jón never spoke. He barely greeted me upon his arrive and barely gave me his thanks when he left.

I still could not fathom how we could ever wed. How could I tie myself to a man who would not even acknowledge me in my own home? Was a glimpse of what our marriage would be? Would he still burn for another woman although I would be the one to share his bed and bear him children? It seemed impossible for me to understand how I could live my life in this way.

I bid goodbye to Stefán and Lára, slipping back out into the night's cool air. I hurried down the path towards my small, lonesome home, keeping my head down so as to not make contact with the few villagers I passed. Even after living in this village for almost a full season, I was still cold treated by many of the people.

As I arrive at my destination and ducked inside, more thoughts slid into my mind. They were terrible thoughts, ones meant to hurt. Jón would never love me; he would always be in love with María. Was it not the same for me towards Pétur? A first love seemed to grab hold of the heart tighter than any other.

I could not blame him for being infatuated with María, it was evident that most men in the village were. She was beautiful with her long, light hair the colour of sunlight, hair she did not have to dye.

A thought briefly crossed through the plains of my mind as I absently stirred the concoction in the pot that hung from the ceiling by a thick chain. I was my own now, without a mother or father to control my every thought. There was Stefán, but I was a woman grown, and I was convinced he would not mind. I could easily dye my hair to the colour of María's, all I would need to acquire would be soap needed for doing so. Many women before me had done the same practice.

With blonde hair, I would be sought after by other men. My appearance had improved greatly since I had first arrived at the village. My body had filled out from the food I cooked and my hair had grown back – not to its previous length, but longer than when I had chopped it off. My bruises had faded away; my cuts had healed to mere scars. I could now walk without a limp as my leg had healed completely. Truly I was lovely and could have any man. No, that was not true; I could have any man, except the one I was to wed.

I gave a small humourless laugh. But why would I wish to dye my hair and resemble the woman my betrothed loved?

"Is there something you find amusing?" asked a deep voice from behind me.

I jumped and spun around only to find Jón filling the door way, his head ducked so he could fit and his arms over his broad chest. "I-I—" I lowered my eyes to the wooden floor, turning back towards the cooking food.

I could hear the man step into the house, the door closing softly behind him, and his heavy footsteps sounding as he crossed the room. He sat down, letting silence fall between us, as was the way it always was. I could feel my face heating, not from the fire I faced, but from embarrassment. Although I told myself that I did not care what he thought, I was horrified that he might think me senseless.

With the meal finished cooking, I gathered what little pride I had and turned towards Jón to present him with his meal. He did not look at me as I sat the food before him or as I sat across from him. Only when the meal was halfway through and Jón reached for his goblet did he make eye contact with me. I flushed again from him catching me watching him and turned my attention towards my night-meal.

"There shall be a raid," Jón revealed with little emotion in his voice.

"A raid?" I echoed, coughing on the food in my mouth.

When he finally decided to speak, it was a morbid topic. Images flashed in front of me of people running away from the village, houses burning to the ground, and monsters cutting through crowds of unfortunate people who could not escape. Why would Jón speak of such a topic, did he not see how it affected me?

"Why shall there be a raid?" I asked, my voice low, no more than a rough whisper.

"There are supplies we need, ones we cannot gain by trading. There are villages across the water that could assist us greatly," Jón explained.

I raised my chin, looking the man across from me in the eye. "I do not agree with this raid. I have experienced the horror that befalls such a raid."

"The choice is not yours to make, it is Stefán's."

"Why did he not tell us of it earlier?"

"He has not informed Lára of his decision." Jón kept eating his meal, his eyes not leaving mine. "The raid was to begin after the child was born, but the weather is to be clear before."

"Could this not wait? Surely it is not that important?" I asked, hoping that he would be able to change Stefán's mind about the whole matter.

"We are in need of more thralls. Planting shall be taking place soon; we need all of the men we can get. There are things we could use from the raid that we cannot get when we trade." Jón seemed determined to keep the idea of the raid. "There shall be no change in the plans."

I stood and removed my plate from the table, not wanting to speak anymore to the man. Without asking Jón if he was finished, I took his plate from him. He made a sound of protest, but did not say anything. To my surprise, he stayed seated as I cleaned instead of leaving to his own home. When I was finished, I turned towards him, anger still in my mind. It was not Jón's fault for the raid, but he was the only man I could blame at the moment.

"I find myself very tired and would like to rest," I told him as I walked towards the back of my small house.

I head the chair scrape on the worn, wooden floor as Jón stood. "When we are wed, it would be better for you to keep your opinions to a minimum."

oOo

I spent my morning cutting the meat off of the reindeer and placing it in wooden pails to be taken back to the houses. Lára had not joined me, but I surmised that she was tired from her pregnancy. I did not speak to anyone throughout the day, but I watched through the door as men, women, and children carried supplies down to the waters to place upon the ships.

Once I had finished, leaving the meat in the slaughterhouse to keep cool, I began towards the longhouse located in the centre of the village. The sounds of people shouting drifted to me on the winds. The villagers headed towards the waters attempted to pay no mind, but their eyes could be seen flickering to the house.

Stefán and Lára's children were away from the house, crouched around a puddle with a miniature wooden longboat.

"What is going on?" I asked them, as I drew closer.

The oldest, Ingrid, a girl of eight winters, stood and lightly shrugged her shoulders. "Móðir and Faðir have been arguing since our morning meal – they will not let us in the house."

I nodded and patted her head, trying to comfort the sadness on her face. I left the children to continue their playing and pushed open the door. Lára stood in the light of the ever burning fire, her face contorted with anger. Stefán stood on the other of the room, his large fists clenched at his sides, he face also masked in anger.

"You will stop this foolish behaviour now," Stefán told his wife in a calm, but terrifying voice.

"I am not foolish. Stay until the child is born; what difference shall a week make?" Lára asked in the tight voice of a woman who knew she could not win.

"A storm could risk the lives of my men, would you want that on your head?"

Lára was going to retort, but her eyes landed on me and she closed her mouth into a thin line. Stefán also spied me, his face turning stony. Without a word to either of us, he pushed by me and walked out the door.

"He informed you about the raid," I said in a quiet voice.

Lára turned her body to face the fire, but not before the tears running down her face were made noticeable by the bright firelight. I walked forward and placed a hand on her shoulder, wanting to comfort this woman who had always been so strong.

Lára placed her hand on her round stomach. "What if this child is finally a son?"

"Men have their own strange ways of thinking, women shall never understand them. When are the men to leave?"

"Tonight."

I was shocked by how early it would be. "You must make amends with Stefán before he leaves."

Lára shook her head vigorously. "I shall not apologize to that wool headed man."

"What if something were to happen to him? Your mind would never be at rest."

When Stefán arrived back to the house, the tension was thick and could be caught with a knife. Neither of the couple would speak nor even make contact with the other. The children followed their father down to the waters were the boats were waiting to take the able-bodied men away.

I watched from the doorway, with Lára sitting on one of the benches. "Close the door," she ordered.

"No." I watched as Stefán bent to kiss each of his daughters on their foreheads. When he straightened up, his gaze came to the house, watching for Lára. "Stefán is looking for you."

"I do not care."

I sighed and turned back to the men. Jón stood near the ship, speaking to a blonde haired woman – María. At this point I closed the door, not wanting to see anymore.

"Men are terrible creatures," Lára said.

I only nodded my agreement.

Skilnaður - divorce