The sun had set three times since the incident with María. Stefán had announced that in a week's time a local þing would be held to judge the woman. There Stefán would also hear the problems of other villagers and settle any land disputes. A crime such as theft would have been brought in front of the judges at the Alþing, but it would not be held until the summer and Stefán did not think it fair that we should have to wait.

María was currently being held in a small building used for instances such as this. The building was locked from the outside and the only person I had seen go to it was Astrid. I knew the healer did not separate herself from those who needed her and I held no ill will towards her.

Firmly patting my son on the back after his feeding, I moved around my house, searching for the small jar of ointment that would sooth him. For hours he had cried and whimpered, only stopping once he was being fed but starting again afterwards.

Unable to find the remedy, I sighed and knew I would have to pay a visit to the healer. Bundling the babe warmly in a blanket and holding him close, we left the warmth of our house and stepped out into the cold. The wind blew off of the water, tunneling through the streets and chilling all it touched. Once the days warmed, there was no doubt in mind that snow would begin to fall.

I walked away from the village to the cliff where the older woman's house could be found. I nodded at those who passed, accepting their congratulations on my son. When we arrived at our destination, I knocked on the door with cold knuckles, glad when the healer greeted me with a smile.

"Valdís, I was not expecting you – and you brought the babe. Come in, it does not do well to stay out in the cold."

The boy was still whimpering as we entered the room and I sighed tiredly. "He has barely stopped crying since last night. Before he was born, Lára had given me an ointment she had used on little Oddi, but I could not find it."

I had spent the entire night sitting next to the fire, rocking the babe in an attempt to sooth him and in turn had not gotten any sleep. Even now I fought to keep my eyelids open.

"Has he been eating?" Astrid asked as she eyed the shelves lined with jars of every size.

"Yes, but he begins to cry again when he is full."

The healer shook her head and glanced around the room, her brows furrowed in thought. "I have dealt with restless babes before, but not this young. There is nothing to fret." Astrid reached into a chest and pulled out a small bottle of liquid. "When he is fussing, dip your finger into this and feed it to him. The boy will calm."

I took the bottle from her with thanks and removed the stopper. Dipping my finger into the gold liquid, I gently placed it between my son's lips. I then replaced the stopper carefully and put bottle in the pouch at my waist.

"How does your husband fair?"

I let out another low breath and shook my head. "I am surprised the babe's wailing did not wake him. There has been little improvement. His fever has yet to break and I fear that it never will."

Astrid placed a reassuring hand on my arm and gave it a slight squeeze. "There is a babe to birth today, but I will pay you a visit tomorrow night and check on him." The woman dropped her voice. "I will consult with the ancient ones on the matter of your husband."

Giving the healer my thanks again, I left her house. I hurried away from the small house and took the path that would take me to the longhouse. I had spent the previous day with Lára, shearing the sheep that were to be slaughtered from our farms. I was to be at her house now, washing the rest of the wool and combing it. When the deep winter set into the earth, we would focus our time on making clothes for the coming year.

"You are late," Lára announced as I stepped through the door of her house. She had her sleeves rolled to her elbows as she hung a bundle of wool up to dry. Three ropes ran across the room, each heavy with wet wool that dripped onto the floor.

"The little one has been restless and I could not find what you had given me. I had to call on Astrid for a soloution."

"You can put him in the back with Oddi. Ingrid is to watch them while we work."

I ducked under the hanging wool and past the tubs of water as I went to where the chieftain and his wife slept. The eldest of their children sat on the edge of the bed, her concentration on the wool she was spinning in her small hands. The youngest child sat on the bed, playing with a wooden toy his father had undoubtedly made for him.

"Heil, Ingrid," I greeted the girl as I entered.

The girl's eyes shot to me briefly before going back to her work. Once the hanging spindle began to slow, she took hold of it and turned her attention to us. "Heil, Valdís." Her eye fell to the infant in my arms. "Is this your son? He is very sweet!"

I smiled at the girl's words and sat my son in the blanketed basket by her feet.

"Do you see my spinning?" Ingrid held up her spinning for me to inspect. The yarn was fine and even, neatly in place on the spindle.

"This is beautiful, Ingrid," I praised her, running a finger over the smooth yarn.

"Móðir says that I am very good for someone of my age." Pride shone on her lovely face as she recalled her mother's words.

I nodded in agreement. "Well, you have had a very good teacher." I placed an adulatory hand on her head and left the back.

Lára now kneeled at one of the wooden tubs, washing wool. Analia and Birta sat together, chattering as the combed the dried wool into long strands for their sister to spin. The youngest girl of the brood, Margrét, was nowhere to be seen.

I knelt alongside Lára at my own wash tub and rolled up my sleeves. Plunging my hands into the cold water, I breathed in quickly at the chill. I kneaded the wool, washing out any dirt that had gathered in it. We soaked the fleece in cold water to preserve the oils, making it easier to turn into yarn.

"Has your arm recovered?" Lára asked, not looking up from her work.

"It has. It was painful the day after – I could barely move it – but it is healing now." I looked towards her as I ran my fingers through the wool. "Has Stefán mentioned the þing... or María?"

"Not since it was announced that one will take place. María has not been mentioned since he retrieved your sword. He has been in thought since it arose – my husband has not had many occurrences such as this during his time as chieftain and never has it been a woman he would convict."

The woman removed the heavy wool from the tub, water running from it. I stood to assist her, taking the end of it in my hands. Together we twisted it, wringing the water from it. Lára than hung it up next to the others.

"Where is the chieftain now?"

"He is teaching Margrét how to slaughter the sheep."

I gave a laugh of disbelief. "But she is only a child!"

Lára raised her thin shoulders in a shrug. "The girl is not afraid of anything. She follows her father about as a dog would."

"Perhaps you will have a fierce shieldmaiden for a daughter," I mused.

I stood in the cool slaughterhouse with a knife in my hand. The building sat behind our house and was made from grey stone, dug into the ground to insure it kept chilled. It was much smaller than the one in the village that the chieftain's wife used, with little room to move when the animals were strung up.

The chieftain and his small daughter had taken it upon themselves to slaughter four of my sheep – the amount that could fit in the slaughterhouse at this time. The sheep hung from their hind legs, hooves and heads already removed to allow the blood to run from their bodies.

I ran my knife down the stomach of the first sheep, only deep enough so I could remove the skin. Grabbing hold of the skin with one hand, I pulled and used the other to separate it from the body. Once removed, I placed the skin outside of the building.

With short, quick cuts – careful not to damage the organs – I moved my knife down the stomach of the first animal. The stomach fell out and hung, the white sack heavy with its last meal.

Placing my knife in my belt, I put my hands inside the sheep and ran my fingers along the sides, pulling at any organs that they met. Ripping the organs out, I dropped them into a bucket to be used for cooking. Cutting further down, I removed the lungs and heart.

I moved to the other three sheep and did the same, spilling more blood on the floor and filling the other buckets with organs.

Once the sheep were gutted and cleaned, I worked on removing the meat from the bone. There would be much more work to do once the slaughtering was complete.

Heavy footfalls on the frozen ground outside the door broke me from my thoughts. Glancing over my shoulder, I watched as the chieftain bent low to enter the building. "I have put your cow in the stall; I believe it will be snowing soon." As he spoke, he removed the carcasses of the two sheep I had finished with and tossed them out the doorway. "The sheep are slaughtered and the harvest is finished. The chores of the winter have been completed."

I gave a laugh at his words. "The chores of the men will be complete. We women will still have to make spin the yarn, preserve the meat for the winter months and begin making the clothing."

"You have been spend too much time with my wife, Valdís. You are beginning to sound just like her." Stefán removed his own knife from his belt and began to cut at the forth sheep.

I finished the third sheep and wiped my knife on my already bloodied apron before sheathing it. My fingers were red and chilled to the point that I could not feel them. I gripped the fabric of my dress, running it between my fingers in an attempt to warm them.

"I need to check on my son. You do not mind finishing here?"

Stefán gave a nod and I picked up one of the buckets of organs before leaving the building. I would soak my bloodied apron and then begin to prepare the innards.

Opening the door, I was met with silence, telling me that my son still slept. Before I had borne my son, I did not know that babes required so much sleep. Stepping into the house, a cry escaped my throat. The bucket slipped from my fingers and the innards spilled across the floor. "Jón..."