Before the Devil Knows you're Dead

Trigger Warning: This chapter contains mentions of sexual violence (off-screen). Please read with caution.
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Ragnar remained by her side every night, always in the chair by her bed. Even when exhaustion weighed heavily on his eyelids, he did not leave her.

By day, he was just as unwavering. Wherever she went, he was there—always watchful, always on guard.

One night, as she drifted on the edge of sleep and wakefulness, she became aware of him.

"I'm glad you chose Bjørn; I am broken. And I would have broken you, too."

She said nothing, pretending to sleep, but tears burned at the corners of her eyes.

What would he do with her? Would he take her to Erlend Arneson? The very thought made her tighten her grip on the woolen blanket. Not without Thora.

The next morning, she asked him about Thora again. Her gaze bore into his.

Ragnar shook his head.

"But we have to do something."

He looked at her but remained silent.

She drew a deep breath. "I'm afraid. Thora told me..." She swallowed hard. "She told me what he almost did."

His lips pressed into a thin line, and a shadow darkened his face. "Why are you so certain?"

The words sat like a knot in her throat, but at last, they burst forth in a desperate cry. "Because I told him... at the church. I told him what Thora said. That he tried to force himself on her."

Her voice cracked, and her chest rose in short, trembling breaths.

"And I know he will make her suffer for it."

Ragnar stood motionless. A dark shadow passed over his face, and his jaw clenched. His hands balled into fists so that his knuckles turned white.

"That damned brother of yours," he said between his teeth.

She nodded weakly, fingers curling in her lap as if to hold herself together. "He is the worst devil."

Ragnar moved abruptly.

"Where are you going?" She sprang up and hurried after him, like a loyal dog that couldn't bear to let its owner out of sight.

"Into the town. I need to hear if anyone has seen her." He paused in the doorway. "And you—stay here. If anyone comes, you vanish. Understand?"

She swallowed hard but nodded. "Where should I go?"

"The cellar. There's a door leading to a tunnel. It will take you to the stable."

He did not wait for a reply. In the next moment, he was gone, swallowed by the weak morning light.

She sank down by the window. Never had she felt so alone—since Ragnar had found her.

Every creak in the house made the hairs on her neck rise. Time stretched out, slow and unbearable. Ragnar did not return.

Her eyelids grew heavy, and before she knew it, sleep had claimed her. Her head rested on her arms, a thin trail of drool running down her chin.

She woke with a gasp.

Something had awakened her.

She listened. Silence pressed down; then it reappeared, a faint knock against the door.

She turned toward it, her pulse thundering in her chest.

Knock. Knock.

She gasped and recoiled, startled; she almost lost her balance.

And again.

Quickly, she crouched down, pressing herself beneath the windowsill. Should she run to the cellar?

She had to see. She couldn't resist.

She lifted her head, bringing her nose closer to the glass. Her eyes scanned the outside.

Two eyes stared straight back at hers.

A terrifying roar shot through her body, a silent scream of terror. She threw herself backward, her heart pounding as if it would burst from her chest.

She gasped for air. It was... Gerd.

Sigrid ran to the door, hesitating before opening it for Gudrun's always-so-shy friend.

Gerd stepped inside as though she owned the place, her sharp gaze sweeping over the room. "What are you doing here?"

Sigrid stiffened but held her ground. "I dwell here for the time being. What is it you seek?"

Gerd tilted her head, a knowing smile playing at her lips. "I have come for Ragnar. We are to be wed."

"I heard, however, he's absent at the moment."

Gerd placed her hands on her hips. "That much is plain. Where has he gone?"

"I know not. Shall I give him a message?"

Gerd's expression darkened. "No, I shall wait here until he comes."

Sigrid opened her mouth to object, but the words would not come.

"Who else is here?" Gerd asked, her keen eyes scanning the chamber.

Sigrid swallowed. "Only Ragnar and I."

Gerd arched a brow. "The two of you alone?" She sank into a chair, her arms folding as if to stake her claim. "That is most improper."

Sigrid studied her, uncertain of her intent. "Ragnar shall explain all upon his return. And I am betrothed to Bjørn, his cousin."

"Bjørn?" Gerd interjected, eyes narrowing as she measured Sigrid from head to toe.

"Yes," Sigrid said, lifting her chin. "He is at war. Will you have some refreshment while you wait?"

Gerd held her gaze for a moment before tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, her posture commanding, as though the house belonged to her.

"I'll take care of it myself," she said, with a tone that made it clear she saw herself as in charge.

Sigrid narrowed her eyes. "What about Gudrun? What does she think about this?"

Gerd's gaze flickered, and her shoulders slumped. Sigrid had struck a nerve.

Then Gerd straightened up again, her voice more confident. "To be honest... I think Ragnar found her too much."

Sigrid nodded, her eyes narrowing as she studied Gerd, before sitting down.

"Can you be honest with me?" She asked, her voice quieter now. "Has something happened between you and Ragnar? There is a rumor that..."

Sigrid froze and swallowed, but before she could respond, the door slammed open with a crash.

"What are you doing here, Gerd?" Ragnar asked coldly, with no pleasantries.

Gerd opened her mouth, but her voice faltered. "I... I..."

"It's not the time," he said and interrupted her, not interested in what she had to say.

"But I—" Gerd tried to get her words out, almost in tears.

"No. Leave. Now."

Gerd stood there, stunned, but didn't move.

"But Ragnar—" Sigrid began, confused by his sudden behavior.

He turned to her, sweaty and impatient. "Sigrid, I told you not to let anyone in. Get her out. Right now."

She glared at him. "This is not just anyone—this is your fiancée! Can't you tell her yourself?"

Ragnar didn't respond. He glared back at her before he turned and slammed the door behind him.

Sigrid turned toward Gerd, who now looked on the verge of tears.

Sigrid placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her toward the door. "Ragnar seems to be busy with something. It's best if you come back later."

"It's alright," Sigrid said, trying to give a comforting smile. "This is just the way he is."

Gerd said nothing but allowed herself to be guided out. Once she had mounted her horse and ridden off, Sigrid sighed with relief.

As she closed the door behind her, she heard sounds from the back hallway. Ragnar.

He stood there in the shadows—and he was carrying something.

"Thora!" Sigrid rushed to kneel beside the exhausted body before her.

Thora lifted her gaze and tried to smile a faint smile. "I'm fine."

"Where have you been?"

"At a relative of my mother's."

A shadow approached from behind, and Sigrid saw it was Thora's mother. She embraced her.

"It's good to see you again, Sigrid. Ragnar said we could stay here." Her gaze dropped to her rough hands.

She then turned back to Thora. "What happened?"

"She will not speak of it." said Thoras's mother.

Sigrid bit her lip as she studied both mother and daughter—they almost seemed the same age. Both were thin and worn, their eyes shadowed with something dark.

Sigrid stood and took a deep breath. "I think it's best we find a room for you," supporting Thora as she helped her to her feet.

When Thora's mother left to fetch some drink, Sigrid sat beside Thora on the bed.

She took her hand, holding it between her own. "What happened, Thora?"

Thora turned away, refusing to meet her gaze.

"It was Sigurd," she said at last.

Sigrid's chest tightened. "Just say it. Did he... did he force himself on you?"

Thora's body trembled with a sob. "Yes, he was behind me before I could react. He struck me down, and when I woke, he was on top of me in the barn..."

Sigrid slammed her fists onto the bed. "I truly hate Sigurd!"

But Thora gripped her hand. "Don't tell anyone, promise me. He let me go soon after... I thought he was going to kill me."

"But Thora... that's a crime. He must be punished."

Thora's eyes were empty but firm. "Promise me."

Sigrid swallowed hard. "Of course. I promise." She stared down at the floor. "We should never have gone home."

The door creaked, and Thora's mother returned, bringing the conversation to an end. Sigrid stood up and walked to the sitting room, where she discovered Ragnar by the hearth, gazing into the flames.

"How is she?" He said without turning.

Sigrid crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't know, to be honest." She glanced at him. "But thank you for finding her."

Ragnar shrugged. "It was nothing."

Sigrid took a deep breath. "Why did you act so rudely toward Gerd?"

He turned toward her. "And what does it matter to you?"

Sigrid raised an eyebrow. "You didn't have to chase her out like a beggar."

"You shouldn't have let her in anyway."

"I didn't let her in! She was prying—she saw me through the window and let herself in."

Ragnar's gaze darkened. "Prying?" His jaw set hard. "Sigrid, I do not trust that Gerd will hold her tongue."

"You do not trust your future wife?"

"I know her not well enough." Then he took her hand, his grip gentle and his gaze softer now. "Let me handle this."

Sigrid withdrew, her fingers slipping from his. "Ragnar, let me go." Her voice was quiet, uncertain. "If I gave you cause to think otherwise, I am sorry. I did not wish to be alone."

He opened his mouth to respond, but an instant disruption occurred.

BANG!

The door shook with a violent blow as someone tried to force it open.

Ragnar's eyes widened as he looked at her. He gestured. "Get to the cellar. Now."

She turned on her heel and ran toward the hallway but stopped as she reached the corner.

Something held her back. She leaned against the wall, listening. Voices, but indistinct. She wanted to see but forced herself to stay hidden.

Then came the attack.

A dark shadow lunged at her from the side.

Sigrid fell hard to the floor, a scream escaping her throat—but it was quickly smothered by something warm and familiar.

Balder.

The large dog lay on top of her, its coarse fur brushing against her cheek. He licked her face, tail wagging wildly.

"Balder?" Sigrid buried her face in his fur. "You're really here?"

Then she realized. If Balder were here...

She lifted her head, her eyes darting around.

The figure stood in the doorway, a dark shadow against the dim light. Sigrid's heart pounded as her eyes locked on him, the world around her fading into nothingness.

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