A Whisper to the North

Chapter LII ✠ Hide Nothing and Suffer None

The woman standing behind Una kept brushing her hair so hard, she thought her scalp would rip open. The woman was old, but she had the strength of a young male warrior with that comb. The whole time Una sat in the hardwood chair and gazed up at the tapestries surrounding the walls.

"You must have spent your entire life brushing horse tails before switching to humans." Una laughed.

The woman smacked the top of her head with the wooden comb.

"Ouch! You have no idea what I'm saying, you old crone." Una hissed, patting her head.

The woman struck her hand this time.

"What do you intend on doing!?" Una asked, rubbing her hand.

The woman jerked Una's head back and parted her hair. Then she began to pleat her hair from the sides of her face, up into a half-up style. She made many braids in Una's hair that sat on top of her normal hair at her shoulders. The woman then adored the bases of the braids with beads and tied them with colorful strings.

Una and Alaric have been treated like honored guests so far, a shock to them both. Una significantly believed the king would try to end her life before they entered the castle. Instead, he seemed to be delighted they had come cynically. Una was invited to a feast supper this night, and this woman was helping her look accordingly for an event.

"Woman, I swear I don't need a haircut because you've ripped half of my hair out!" Una laughed.

The woman pulled on the back of the cloak that Frey's father gave her and tore it off her.

"Wait! Don't!" Una said as she stood and turned away.

The woman grabbed Una and spun her around. Una pulled her arms up to cover her nakedness and glared down at the woman. She had bright blue eyes. Even her age didn't fade them. Her hair was solid white and pulled half up on her head like Una's hair. Una's necklace glimmered, catching the eye of the woman. Suddenly she reached out and grabbed it before Una could swat her away. Her eyes widened, and she squinted as tears began to form in them. She let out a pitiful whimper as her lip trembled. She let go of the necklace and grabbed Una's shoulders, and shook her.

"Hvere er hann!? Hvere er minn Frey!?" The woman began to weep, and she got down on her knees and cried.

She wrapped her arms around her leg and buried her face into her long dress, and wept.

"Hvere er hann." She cried.

Suddenly the king walked in, staring at the old woman clutched to Una.

"Móðir kompose þinn sjálfr!" He said, walking in with Alaric.

She turned her head, and as soon as she caught a glance of Alaric, she shouted.

"Nei, þat mega't munu!" The woman shouted up at Alaric.

"What is she saying!?" Una blurted out.

Alaric looked down at the woman with wide eyes. Suddenly the king grabbed Alaric by his tunic and pulled him to his face.

"Remember hvat vér discusseð. Ef þú segðar word, ek'll kill Una."

"Ek veit minn staðr," Alaric assured the king.

"This old woman is my mother. Alaric reminds her of a past loved one. It's painful old memories being resurfaced each time she sees him. Her memory is not right, I'm afraid. She already talked to Alaric many times today, seeing him new each time." He laughed.

"Þú lived! þökk. gods,inn þeir tökumk kare ór þú!"

The old woman got up and stood, hugging Alaric close and crying. Una stood there, covering her chest again for the second time that day.