The girl who cried wolf

"Where's the wolf?" The voice shouted through the chaos, a little too angry and impatient.

Behind him stood several men and boys, now trying to cover the ground around them.

"Stop, Balder!" Sigrid cried out, pulling the dog back with her small, shivering hands.

Ragnar's face was blood-red with anger. "Kill the monster!"

"No!" She threw herself around Balder’s thick and fury neck. "He is a tame dog!"

"He's a monster!" Ragnar shouted, throwing out his arm. Blood was trickling from the torn skin, dropping to the ground beneath him. "Kill him!"

"Then you’ll have to kill me as well!"  She was definitely not backing down she taught to her self.

A heavy hand fell on Ragnar’s shoulder, pulling him back. The man who had spoken earlier stepped forward, his towering presence casting a shadow over her. He was strong and powerfully built, looking both intimidating and immense as he stood there.

"Enough,who owns this dog," he said, with a calm voice, but brimming with an authority that demanded silence.

Sigrid tried desperately to shield Balder’s massive body behind her with her thin and fragile body.

"It is I," she answered as steadily as she could.

"And why did he attack my son?"

"He didn’t attack," she shot back, maybe a little too harshly. "He defended me."

"Defended you from what?" He seemed so calm and composed.

Sigrid hesitated, eyes flickering to Ragnar before they snapped back to the man’s unyielding gaze. "Your son tried to—" Her words faltered, the weight of his stare closing in.

"Tried to what?" His tone was now cutting through her like a blade.

"He forced a kiss on me," the words coming out almost against her own will, her voice low. She added,"I told him no."

A flicker of something—anger, perhaps—passed across the man’s face. He turned to Ragnar. "Apologize." 

"I will not!" Ragnar growled.

The man’s roar was deafening, silencing everything in an instant and making the two girls almost jump in surprise.

"I..." Ragnar stepped forward abruptly and grabbed her hand. His apology was loud and exaggerated. "I am sorry." 

Then, leaning closer, his voice dropped to a whisper, his smirk twisting cruelly. "For not kissing you." 

Sigrid ripped her hand away as if burned, her face flushing with anger and humiliation. But then, she suddenly calmed herself, straightened up, and gave him a smug grin back.

"It’s alright," she said forcing the words out as she wanted to get out of there as fast as she could.

Without another word, she seized Thora’s arm and turned sharply, willing herself to walk away before the trembling in her hands betrayed her fury. 

The man stepped forward, his towering presence halting them in their tracks. "Forgive us, young ladies but what are your names?"

"This is Thora and I'm Sigrid," she replied firmly, gripping Thora's arm. Her eyes darted nervously around. "We must leave. Now."

"Sigrid?" He repeated in a calm yet unsettling way like he wanted more.

"Yes, Gudbrandsdatter."

"Sigrid Gudbrandsdatter?" He said in a way like the name was tasting familiar on his tongue.

"Come back!"

The words was spoken with such weight, and made both girls freeze. It was not a question, it was an order, and left no room for disobedience.

"Oh no," Thora sobbed, her tears spilling freely.

"Yes, my good lord," her voice was measured, careful. She curtsied deeply, so deeply she could, her tone tinged with the politeness of someone well-practiced in navigating peril. "I beg you, please-"

But the man interrupted her, "I am sorry, girl. No kin of Gudbrand may enter on this land. You should know that. And for this trespass, I cannot let you leave unpunished."

Sigrid stiffened, her grip on Thora was tightening.

And the crystal-blue eyes of his son glowed. "It is Gudbrand's daughter!" He shouted back to his brothers, as if he had just found gold.

"I am sorry. But I must make an example of you now. If I do not then maybe others will follow and do the same."

"No, I promise!" Sigrid cried, her voice was breaking, "I did not know!" 

"Kill the dog," Ragnar barked, his voice was rude and impatient as he turned back toward the group.

"No!" She lunged forward, her arms locking protectively around Balder's thick neck. The dog whimpered like a puppy, pressing closer to her.

"Kill the dog," the father suddenly declared. "Fetch the axe, Ragnar," he called after his son, who was already far up the hillside. 

But Sigrid suddenly pushed herself upright, her eyes wild like an animal. "I claim the right to enforce his punishment!" She cried. 

Balder started to pant uneasily at her feet. 

Sigrid held out her arm, her voice steady now despite the tears streaming down her face. "Take my arm instead! Leave him be!"

His eyes, bored into her as though searching for any hint of hesitation.
"So, you mean to live with one arm, girl?"

"Yes," she stammered, "yes!"

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, studying her like one might an unfamiliar creature. "To live with one arm," he said, each word deliberate, "is a terrible burden."

"I know, and that is why I ask you to accept this as a punishment instead of killing my dog. The fault is mine, and I will bear it."

"Very well," he mumbled almost hesitantly.

Sigrid's heart raced as she watched Ragnar climb the hillside.

"Do you regret it?" The tall man asked, studying her. "It is not too late..."

"No!" She burst out. Her hands shook as she reached for her sleeve, rolling it up to bare her arm.

Ragnar came back in a hurry and stopped a few paces away, his chest heaving with labored breaths. His confusion was evident as he stared at them, his lips parting as though to speak—but no words came.

"She will bear the punishment with her hand," the man declared, dismissing his son entirely. His tone was like a verdict etched in stone.

"If you pull away the dog dies."  He warned her.

And the sudden smirk of his son as he said it told her he had no faith that she would manage to keep her hand steady.

She was then handed a stick by one of the younger boys, who looked even more scared than she did.

"Just do it quickly," she said.

Balder whimpered at her feet, his large golden eyes filled with confusion and fear.

The man nodded, rising slowly, as if the weight of the moment pressed down even on him.
He reached for the axe Ragnar had carried back, the blade gleaming so cruelly against her in the dim light.

Sigrid took a long look at her beloved furry friend, and it didn’t take long before she decided that he was truly worth losing a hand for. All that he had meant to her. All he had done for her. He had saved her from the darkness and the pain.

She closed her eyes and bit down hard on the stick, as if bracing herself.

"Are you ready?" He asked.

She nodded bravely.

What would she tell her father when she returned home without her arm? It would be impossible to hide. He would likely lock her away for the rest of her life. Tears pressed at her eyes at the thought.

Her breaths came quick and shallow, and her fingers was clawing at the earth beneath her.
She gripped it tightly, as though it could anchor her against the pain she was certain was coming.

She heard the whistle of the swing.

The valley seemed to tremble, the sound vibrating deep within her chest.

And then...

Nothing.

No pain.

No chopping sound of the axe.

Her breathing slowed as confusion crept in. Slowly, cautiously, she opened her eyes.

His gaze flickered over her, as though reading her like a book of secrets.

Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he lowered the axe.

She blinked, disoriented, and looked down. Her arm was still intact, the skin unbroken.

Her breath hitched as she stared at it, then at the man, then back at her arm. Her mind struggled to understand.

"You... You didn't..."

She opened her eyes slowly. Her arm was intact. She had to run her fingers carefully over it to confirm.

The man lowered the axe. "You are brave, and foolish."  

Sigrid blinked, struggling to understand.

"Your courage has spared you. And your dog. You may go," the man said, stepping back."  

"Thank you," she whispered, as if she couldn’t quite believe what was happening.

"Go now, before I change my mind."  

Sigrid grabbed Thora’s hand, and they ran without looking back, Balder following close behind, his tail wagging happily as if he had just been gifted a feast fit for a king.

As they reached the edge of the forest, Sigrid froze, startled by the sound of heavy footsteps coming after them in a hurry.

"Sigrid!" He called out in a daring tone.

She turned sharply. It was Ragnar, he was keeping a cautious distance from them—and her dog. 

"What do you want now?" She shouted. But as she noticed his father’s piercing gaze in the distance, she steadied herself. 

"Well, well, who knew you had that in you?" His smirk was wide.

"I’m used to taking punishment," she
replied.

Ragnar turned as if to leave but then stopped abruptly, glancing back at her with a grin that sent a shiver down her spine. She wasn’t sure if it was in a good or bad way.

"Just you wait. You’ll be the one begging me for a kiss." His laughter echoed as he strode away. 

The rest of the walk home was very silent.

When they reached the barn, Sigrid stopped abruptly, turning to face Thora, who was following behind with hesitant steps.

"You must promise me, promise you won’t tell anyone." 

Thora’s lips trembled. "I promise," she whispered, though her voice wavered. 

Sigrid exhaled shakily, as if releasing a weight she had been carrying. "If my father knew," she said, her voice cracking, "he’d lock me in the cellar and never let me see daylight again." 

Thora reached out as if to comfort her but thought better of it, her hand falling down at her side. 

Sigrid motioned for Thora to follow. They crept silently to the barn.

Sigrid knelt beside Balder, her trembling hands finding his thick fur. She buried her face against him, clutching him hard.

Inside, the soft snoring of her brother reached her ears, and she felt a flicker of relief. For now, they were safe. 

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