I only opened my eyes when I hurried the baby's crying grow louder. The sound was something I had grown accustomed to, but as I opened my eyes, I could see that my husband had not. Jón stared at the rafters overhead, his brows low and his lips pressed tightly together. I pushed my tangled hair away from my face and smiled at Jón.

"Why is he crying?" he muttered, running a hand roughly over his face.

"He is most likely hungry," I informed him as I slipped from the bed, a small sound leaving my lips as my feet touched the cold floor. I padded to the baby's cradle and scooped up the crying boy. I placed a kiss to the top of his golden head and rocked him as I went back to bed.

Jón pushed himself into a sitting position as I sat beside him. The baby latched onto my breast and I pulled the thick blanket to my waist.

"Yesterday was a very busy day, you did not have much time to meet your son."

"Son..." Jón did not smile, but his face grew softer. "The birth, was all well?"

"The birth was the most painful thing I have ever experienced. I believed I would die, but when I heard him cry... happiness washed over me." I ran a finger over the baby's soft cheek. "We will need to prepare for the Vanti Ausa and consider a name for him. I cannot continue calling him 'the baby'." I looked up at my husband. "I thought perhaps... Magnús – named after my brother."

Jón watched our son for a long moment, taking my words into consideration. "If that is what you wish, wife."

"My Magnús. He is a sweet boy; he resembles you." The baby pulled away from my breast and I brought him to my shoulder, firmly rubbing his back. "Would you care to hold him?"

Jón held out his hands and I passed him our son. I again left the bed and began to ready myself for the day. I went over my tasks in my head as I poured water into the basin. The meat from the sheep still had to be preserved and I had to begin preparation for the Vatni Ausa.

"Last night you told me we had much to discuss," Jón said as he settled Magnús into his arms.

My stomach dropped at his words. I leaned over the basin and splashed my face with the chilled water. "Many things had happened since you were gone. During my pregnancy, I could no longer wear my ring. To keep it safe, I placed it in the trunk with my brother's sword. One night I falsely thought the baby was being born and went to Astrid – she instructed that I stay at her house. When I returned in the morning, both the ring and sword were missing."

I turned to one of my clothing chests and dug through it, removing a dark blue dress. Jón's eyes watched me as I dressed, bringing a slight heat to my cheeks. "María was the person who took them." I watched Jón's face from the corner of my eye at the mention of her name, but his expression did not change. "She came to the house one morn as I came back from tending to the sheep. She was adamant to see you, but I could not allow her. The look in her eyes, I did not trust her not to do something foolish. I could only think of my son and what she may do to him if she was able to get to him."

A small, strange laugh escaped my throat. "I confronted her and... the woman had my ring around her neck. We fought and she drew her knife." I tugged at my neckline, revealing the scar on my arm.

"She attacked you." Jón straightened his back abruptly, startling the baby. At the sudden movement he let out a small cry, but his father quickly soothed him.

When I finished dressing, I moved back to the mirror and began to run a comb through my thick hair.

"You retrieved your ring after the attack."

"Yes, both the ring and the sword. Stefán began a search of her house and found it." I braided two parts of my hair and pinned them back, allowing the rest to hang down my back. Turning to Jón, I saw that his face was hard. The look in his eyes made me feel as I had as a child when having to explain to my father something I had done wrong. "The woman is now being watched until a þing can be called."

Jón nodded solemnly as he thought. "I will visit Stefán and discuss this matter. Here, take the boy."

I took Magnús from my husband and pursed my lips. "What are you to say to him?"

"I will ask him if he has a punishment in mind for her. From what you tell me, she is guilty."

I placed Magnús in the cradle and watched as Jón attempted to push himself to his feet. He grunted as he did so, his leg unsteady beneath him. I held out the walking stick Stefán had made for him.

"I do not need to use that thing," he snapped.

"You will need it if you wish to walk," I retorted, pushing it into his hand.

Jón took a step, barring his weight down on the stick. With his first step, he bellowed a curse to the Gods. His gait was unsteady and slow as he moved around the bed. Stopping in front of the trunk where his clothes were kept, he grunted as he bent to pick a shirt.

I came forward and removed a red shirt from the chest.

"I do not need your help!" he hissed, grabbing it from my hand.

I wanted to turn on my heel and leave, to let him look after himself with his injury, but I held my ground. "Must you be such a stubborn man?" I questioned him vehemently. "I only wish to help you heal properly so that you do not have any trouble." I held the walking stick and steadied him as he pulled on the shirt. "Astrid informed me that you may have a limp if your leg is not healed properly. It may also cause you pain." I placed a hand on his chest and looked up at him.

Jón closed his eyes as though he was processing my words. When he opened them, he suddenly looked much older and worn than he was. Darkness lined the underside of his eyes and I could see more grey in his beard, though it was hidden well between the gold. He did not speak, but continued to dress, allowing me to assist him.

I asked him to sit with me for the morning-meal and was astonished when he obliged. I attempted to make conversation, but he only gave short answers. The situation recalled to me the beginning of our marriage and a bitter taste came to my mouth.

Once finished eating, Jón stood and, with the help of the stick, hobbled out of the house and towards that of the chieftain's.

I sighed as he closed the door and began putting away the dishes from the meal. When they were put away, I focused on the sheep meat. Taking my knife in hand, I sliced the meat into thin strips and prepared the fire. With the smoke billowing thickly from the flames, I impaled the meat from a metal rod and hung it on the hook over the fire. The smoke curled over the meat and would do so for several days, drying the meat and making it so it would last longer.

With the other portion of meat, I cut it into chunks and coated it in the whey left from the skyr. Once coated, I placed it in jaws and tightly shut the lids.

Although I kept busy preparing the meat, spinning yarn and entertaining my son, my mind still focused on my husband and María.

Jón had told me he needed to speak to Stefán about María's punishment, but what else would he say? Did he believe the woman should be free and he would try to convince the chieftain of it? Would he go to the place she was being held and speak with her? Jón was an influential man in the village and might be able to convince people to see the situation as he did. But the woman had stabbed me and could have hurt our son, surely he would not think her innocent.

Unable to banish the thoughts in my mind, I slammed my hands on the table and bent my head. Why did these thoughts plague me so? I was always making myself feel sick with worry and the thoughts only caused me to anger.

When midday came, Magnús began to cry. I removed him from his soiled clothes and began to fill the small tub I used for washing clothes with warm water. Once it was filled, I placed my son in it and gently ran the water over him. It amazed me how much he had grown since birth and it had not yet been a complete month.

"Soon you will be a man," I told him, tickling his round belly. "And you will be accompanying your father on raids. Then you will find a wife of your own, someone who will love you greatly."

Magnús looked up at me with his mouth slightly open.

"But there is not one person who will love you as much as your mother will." I tweaked his nose with my finger. "But promise me, my sweet boy, you will never marry a woman you do not love."

I removed him from the bath and wrapped him in a soft blanket, gently drying his small body. Bringing him to my shoulder, I snuggled him close.

"You see, your father is in love with a woman who is not your mother. Even if you give your heart to another, it does not mean they will give theirs to you."

I dressed Magnús in a thick outfit and pulled my own fur lined cloak around me. Opening the door, I saw that snow was falling gently from the grey sky, already covering the ground. It crunched under my feet as I walked away from the farm, intent on visiting the chieftain's wife.

Coming into the village, I spotted Jón hobbling away from the shoreline. I waved a hand at him, drawing his attention, before going towards him.

"Where are you going?" Jón asked as he drew close, reaching out a hand and touching the hat covering Magnús' head.

"I could not stay in the house any longer so we are going to pay Lára a visit. How was your talk with Stefán?"

"He has decided that a þing will take place in two weeks' time to determine María's fate."

"Do you think—"

Jón held up a hand, stopping my words. "We will discuss this at home, not in the street."

I shifted Manus to my other arm. "What will you be doing now?"

"There are still sheep to slaughter for the winter." Jón glanced up at the low hanging sky. "Do not be out long, it is going to snow heavily tonight."

I allowed my lips to fall into a frown. "I was hoping the Vatni Ausa could take place tomorrow." Giving a sigh, I shook my head. "I will discuss this with Lára. Please take care of yourself and rest if you feel fatigued."

We went our separate ways and soon I found myself sitting near Lára's fire with Oddi on my lap and Lára holding my son. Oddi was now beginning to talk, babbling away as Lára and I held our own conversation.

"Jón is now awake and it is time for the Vanti Ausa for Magnús. I was hoping it could be tomorrow, but Jón tells me there will be much snow tonight."

"Children do not wait and neither will the Vanti Ausa. No amount of snow will keep us from naming this boy and offering a sacrifice to the Gods. Jón will slaughter the goat and Sunna will assist me in preparing the húsel."

"Thank you, Lára." Oddi began to squirm and I sat him on the floor, watching him toddle away. "Jón tells me that the þing will be in two weeks."

Lára gave a nod. "María is not the only person to be judged. There was a land dispute between two men on the other side of the village and Stefán will need it settled soon."

"Do you believe María will be outlawed?"

"I cannot say, but I think it best if she was out of the village. I do not believe you would be safe if she were free to wander. The woman has not yet stopped trying to make Jón her own."

"I do not know if Jón would refuse her. Have you ever heard Jón mention any fondness for me?" I felt foolish asking her the question, but desperately wanted to know the answer.

Lára gave a sudden laugh, startling both Magnús and I. "Valdís, you know the man would never have mentioned such a thing. I have heard Stefán say how Jón praised you for giving him a son. He was very proud of Magnús and his happiness rivaled Stefán's when Oddi was born."

I gave her a small smile, but it did not meet my eyes. Any man would be pleased with a son.

As I left the chieftain's house, I caught sight of a tall figure turning onto the main road towards our farm. Jón came from a small path that I knew led to the house where María was being kept. I swallowed the lump that built in throat and hurried down the snow covered back path that would take me home.

My lips were pressed tightly together as I slammed the door of our house. I placed the baby in the crib and refilled the washing tub with hot water. I gathered the dirty clothes, piled them on the table and begun to scrub harshly at the fabric of Jón's shirt.

I stood with my back facing the door and scrubbed until my hands were red and raw. When the door opened and my husband entered, I did not turn acknowledge him. Jón did not speak as he walked through the house, collecting the items he would need to slaughter and clean the sheep.

As he went to the door, I finally spoke. "You were to see María," I said, still not wanting to look at him.

I could hear Jón sigh and prepared for his anger. "It is not your problem to worry about, Valdís," he said in a low voice.

"No, I am your wife, anything that happens to you is my business. You visited the woman you love – the woman who attacked me!"

Jón was quiet for a long moment, causing my anger to bubble. "Yes, I went to see her. María was pleased to see that I was healing well, unlike my own wife."

I knew he said the words to cause me anger and his ploy worked. "I was not pleased?" My voice raised and I clenched the sides of the tub, my nails biting into the wood. "I prayed to the Gods every day, sending sacrifices and begging them to allow you to heal properly and wake. Were the tears I shed over you wasted?" I finally turned to face my husband who gripped his walking stick with white knuckles. "I wanted nothing more than for you to heal. Not only for Magnús, but for me. I have already lost my parents and brother, I cannot stand to lose another person I love!"

Tears sprang to my eyes as the words passed over my lips. I had never before said those words to Jón. I raised a hand to my face and pinched the bridge of my nose, squeezing my eyes tightly shut. "Jón, you must understand my anger. I have no other family; you are the only person I have to depend on. I have pledged my life to you and bore you a son and yet..." I stopped and let out a sigh, breeching the topic we had spoken of long ago. "And yet you still love María."

I felt foolish as the words left my mouth. Why could I not ignore that fact like so many other women did? Many men had concubines and their wives turned a blind eye.

Jón's eyes met mine and I could see a look I did not recognize in them. "Do you still have love for Petur?"

I turned away from him and took hold of the shirt I had been washing. Channelling my feelings, I twisted the fabric, draining the water from it. I then hung it on a rope near the fire to dry. "I do. I still have love for him, but now it is a love of the memories I have of him. A love of longing because I know I will never have him to love again."

"You may not believe me, but those are the feelings I have for María."

I turned to him again, my voice soft this time. "Will you speak on behalf of her at the þing?"

"No, I will not. María threatened you and could have brought harm to our son. I will stand by your side through this."

"You will?" I asked him skeptically.

Jón gave a nod and turned to the door. He opened it and I could see that the snow was now falling heavier, something Jón had been correct about. "You are my wife."

I swallowed heavily and bowed my head, allowing those words I had heard him say before to give me a false sense of hope.

When Jón returned from his work that night, he warmed himself at the fire before undressing and joining me in the bed. His hand, foreign to me after so long and still cold from his time spent outside, found its way to my hip. I welcomed his touch, craving the feeling of another person. His fingers moved slowly, sliding down the curve of my hip to the space between my thighs.

I allowed my head to sink into my pillow, my eyes shutting. Allowing myself to relax, my breathing became irregular under his ministrations. I blindly reached out until I felt Jón's bearded cheek under my palm. I pulled his face to mine and kissed his lips, tasting mead on his tongue. My hips arched into his hand only for him to withdraw it.

Suddenly Jón was sitting up and pulled me along with him. Briefly my thoughts went to his injured leg, but the sight of my husband's arousal banished them. He placed both hands on my hips, his fingers digging into my skin as he tugged me into his lap. I straddled him and placed my hands on his broad shoulders, his member pressing against me.

I shifted, lifting myself up and then lowering myself onto him, my fingers digging into his shoulders. A deep, guttural sound rumbled from Jón's throat, bringing a moan from my own. Jón's hand came up and cupped my cheek, once again bringing our lips together.

Slowly I moved, focusing on the spots where our skin met. My breasts pressed against his chest, sending chills through me. My husband leaned back, his eyes boring into me. A small part of me, the girl who had first stumbled into the village, wanted to cover my nakedness, but instead I placed my hands firmly on his stomach to keep my balance. I was careful not to touch my foot to his leg and continued my movements until we were both gasping for breath.

A shiver ran through me and I let out a cry, leaning forward and pressing myself against my husband. My fingers again dug into his shoulders as his pressed into my hips. "Jón," I panted against him. "I love you."

He did not respond, but instead pressed a kiss against my neck. Careful of his leg, Jón rolled us until my back pressed against the bed. Removing himself from me, he tugged at the blanket, placing it over us. In my haze I thought I heard him whisper something, but it could have been the sound of the wind picking up outside of the house.

I pulled the blankets tightly around my body and curled into Jón's side, allowing sleep to consume me.