The Girl Who Cried Wolf

"Where is the wolf?" An angry, impatient voice broke through the chaos.

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

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

Ragnar's face was red. "Kill the wolf!"

"No!" She threw herself around Balder's furry neck. "He is a tame dog!"

"He's a monster!" Ragnar said, throwing his arms out dramatically.

"Then you'll have to kill me as well!" Sigrid clenched her fists.

A heavy hand fell on Ragnar's shoulder, pulling him back. A man stepped forward, strong and built, looking both intimidating and immense as he stood there. His towering presence cast a shadow over her.

"Who owns the dog?"

Sigrid tried to shield Balder's massive body behind her. "It is I."

"What was his reason for attacking my son?"

"He didn't attack." He acted in my defense."

"From what?"

Sigrid stopped and quickly looked at Ragnar before returning her attention to the man's determined gaze. "Your son tried to-" Her words faltered, the weight of his stare closing in.

"Tried to what?" His tone now pierced through every single bone in her body.

"He... he tried to kiss me."

A flicker of something-anger or embarrassment perhaps-passed across the man's face. He looked at Ragnar. "Apologize, son."

"I will not!" Ragnar said, his face flushed.

The man roared so loudly that it instantly silenced everything, almost causing the two girls to jump.

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

Then he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, his smirk twisting. "For not kissing you."

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

"Fine," she said, eager to leave.

Without another word, she seized Thora's arm and turned, 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." Her eyes darted around. "We must leave now."

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

"Yes," she said with a smile, already turning to leave.

"Come back!" He said. This wasn't a request; it demanded compliance.

"Oh no," Thora said, her tears spilling down.

"Yes, my good lord," Sigrid said in a measured tone. "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's grip on Thora was tightening.

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

"I am sorry. I must use you as a cautionary tale."

"No, I promise!" Sigrid choked back tears, exclaiming, "I knew nothing!"

"Kill the dog," Ragnar said.

"No!" She lunged forward, her arms locking around Balder's thick neck. Whimpering like a pup, the dog moved closer to seek comfort from her.

"Fine, kill him! Ragnar, grab the axe," he called out to his son, who was not hard to ask as he moved up the hillside like a beast.

"That's unjust." Sigrid planted her hands at her hips.

"Perhaps it is, but do you know what your father did when a laborer from our side, by accident, fell across the border into his land?"

She frowned, uncertain.

"He cut off his hand."

"That's not true!" She heard herself say the words, tearing from her throat.

"Then take a long, good look over at Johan," Erik said, motioning toward a pitiful figure with one arm, his gaze fixed on the grass as if searching for something long lost. "Do you understand now?"

Sigrid halted. Silence fell, then, unexpectedly, she nodded. "Yes, now I do."

Erik turned towards Balder, but
In the same moment, Sigrid kicked herself upright, with her eyes big and wild like an animal. "I claim the right to enforce his punishment!"

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

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

She stammered a breathless, "Yes!"

He rested 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. I accept responsibility for my mistake."

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

"Do you have any regrets?" 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 apparent as he stared at them, his lips parting as though to speak-but no words came.

"She has taken the punishment herself," the man said, dismissing his son. His tone was like a verdict etched in stone.

"But girl, if you pull your hand away, the dog dies."

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

A younger boy gave her a stick; he appeared more frightened than her.

"Do it," she said, while Balder whimpered at her feet, his large golden eyes filled with confusion and fear.

He nodded, his slow rise showing the moment's weight.

He reached for the axe Ragnar had carried back; the blade gleamed against her in the dim light.

Sigrid took one last long look at her furry friend; she deemed him worth the sacrifice.

All that he had meant to her, what he had done for her-he had saved her from so much suffering.

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

"Are you ready?"

She nodded, meeting his stare as if trying to convince him. Sigrid Gudbrandsdatter was no coward, she told herself. She could endure life without an arm.

But what explanation could she give her father for coming home without an arm? It would surely be impossible to hide. He would lock her away for the rest of her life.

Her breathing quickened, and her fingers clawed at the earth beneath her.
She gripped it, 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.

But nothing occurred.

She felt no pain.

There was no sound of an axe being chopped.

Her breathing slowed as confusion crept in.

She opened her eyes.

His gaze flickered over her with a slow, deliberate motion, and he lowered the axe.

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

A gasp issued from her, and her mind struggled to understand.

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

To be sure, she needed to feel it with her fingers.

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

Sigrid's eyelids flickered.

"Your courage has spared you and your dog."

"Thank you," she said, as if she couldn't quite believe what was happening.

"Go now, before I change my mind."

Without needing another warning, Sigrid and Thora excitedly ran down the hill, with Balder wagging his tail behind them.

As they reached the edge of the forest, Sigrid froze, startled by the sound of heavy footsteps coming after them in a hurry. What now? She thought
to herself.

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

She spun to see that it was Ragnar, keeping a cautious distance from them-and her dog.

"What do you want now?"

"I'm impressed; you surprised me." His smirk was wide.

"I'm accustomed to enduring punishment."

"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, 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, I know your father would not have liked us talking to that man."

"Are you familiar with him?" Sigrid said with wide eyes.

"Erik Gustavson. Were you unaware that your father and Ragnar's father are enemies? I heard their hatred for each other ran so deep they wanted to kill one another."

"I only knew to avoid the northern river; however, if my father found out, he would imprison me in the cellar, denying me sunlight for eternity."

Thora offered comfort, then hesitated, her hand dropping.

After following Thora to the main house, Sigrid snuck to the barn to find Åsmund still asleep in the hay.

She knelt beside Balder, her trembling hands finding his thick fur, and 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. They could breathe easily, knowing they were out of harm's way.

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