Bothvar Beorcolsson
We follow my father out of town to the lower peninsula to the south with spears, bows, and axes. A path I’m all too familiar with. We turn east towards the main road that connects Chillshore to Barefrost, two Southern-controlled cities. This is a dangerous land.
We stalk through the thick woods of budding spring alder, birch, and aspen trees, along with the rare yew trees and the numerous different kinds of pine. I can smell the spring blossoms. Along with hints of fresh dung, musky wet fur odor, and the overwhelming pine scent. The hoof beats make me believe we’re not far from a boar. “I sense a boar near to here.”
The others look at me, some with narrowed eyes and others wide-eyed. My father steps up to me and whispers. “How can you tell?”
“I can smell its fresh turds and hear its hoof beats,” I tell him. It must have been from all the mushrooms I’ve eaten and continue to eat.
My father doesn’t question me and signals for me to lead the way. I follow the scent and sound of its hooves and snorts, along with the bristling of brushes and the crunching of branches, confirming my suspicions. It’s close. I lead the others to the smell and noises. Sure enough, the beast is grazing.
It wasn’t that long ago I recall trying to stop my brother and our friends from killing a hare. How much I’ve changed. Of course, I did that for Arni, not for the hare.
My father signals for the others to spread and circle the beast. They plan on luring it into a trap with our bows as the others spear it. As we all get into position, my father hops out and startles the beast, firing off an arrow at it. He sticks it in the shoulder before it takes off running, but its path is blocked by Koll and Einar who prod at it with their spears. It circles back and signals a charge as it stares down at my father. I spring from my stance as it digs its hooves in and goes to charge. Before it can move beyond a few paces, my spear finds its neck, pinning it down to the ground as it squeals one last time.
The rest of them hesitantly move from their positions. My father, Koll, Throst, and Einar trade looks of shock. My father steps up. “By the god’s son, I hardly saw you move and then you had your spear in its throat. Where in Ornulf’s name did you gain so much speed?”
“I trained hard during my exile. I wanted to become strong and fast enough to kill the elf who took Thorkel’s life. I’m still not sure if I am enough of either.” The sound of a single horse trotting down the nearby road grabs my attention. “There’s a traveler on the road. Just one on horseback.”
My father and the others once again trade looks. “Let’s check it out. Thormar, Bodvar, and Svala secure the boar and tie its legs to a long enough branch. We’ll be back.”
“But father, I’m not a boy anymore. Why should I stay back?” Thormar asks with anger and contempt on his face.
“Because, if we die, I need someone capable to take charge and that is you,” father says, shutting Thormar up.
My father signals me to lead the way, and I sneak through the woods to a spot to capture the traveler. He’s still a good deal away, but I can make him out in the far distance. Not close enough to make out any features, but I can tell it’s a man.
“Are you sure, son? I don’t see anyone,” father.
“Yes, it’s a man. He’s not far. You’ll see him soon enough,” I say.
They all wait wearily, giving each other questioning glances. Then Koll speaks up. “I see something. A figure, definitely on a horse.”
“Yeah, I see it too,” Throst says.
“I see it now,” father says, turning back at me, scratching his chin as he considers me. Then he turns to the others. “Here’s what we’re going to do…”
—
The man finally arrives. A man with onyx-black hair and strange, gray eyes. He’s armed with a sword on his back. He stops and looks around in our direction. “I know you lot are out there.”
Father steps out in front of him as Koll and Einar step out behind. Throst and I step out on both sides of him. He’s a well-built man. A warrior, but there’s something else about him. He reeks of death and something else. Something I can’t put my finger on.
“Where ya heading, stranger?” father asks, sword in hand.
“Anywhere that has work for me,” the man says, showing no appearance of fear or nervousness.
“And what kind of work does a man like you do?” Father asks.
“Well, I used to be a Revenant, but no longer. Now I’m just a spell sword for hire. If you have any monsters to kill, I’ll take care of ’em,” he says as his eyes fall upon me. They narrow as he takes me in and they stay a bit longer than they did for the rest.
“Spell sword, huh?” my father asks as he sheaths his sword. The others keep their weapons drawn. “Does that mean you can do magic, huh?”
The man nods, lifting his hand and producing a flame. The others startle, stepping back. Father nods. “Maybe you can help us. You’re welcome to come back with us to our village, share our food, and have a bed to stay in.”
Thon nods. “That would be much appreciated.”
“You’ll have to lead your horse. There are no roads to our village,” father says.
“You’re Kraken, aren’t you? I’ve heard of your people. A friend of mine grew up in the north,” he says. His face portrays no emotion, just a stone. He looks as if he was carved from one and meets our height. Few Southerners do.
Father nods. “My name is Beorcol Thorgrimsson. I’m Earl of the Krakens. That’s my… eldest son, Bothvar. He’s Einar Alriksson, and that’s his brother Koll. And that’s Throst Thorhallson.”
“The name’s Thon. Just Thon,” the stranger says. Odd name.
We lead him back to where my siblings are as they finish tying up the dead boar to a branch they found. Thormar and Bodvar struggle to carry it as we head back through the woods to home. However, as we cross the river, I hear the bells from our village. The warning bells. It’s faint. “The warning bell is going off. We’re under attack.”
My father looks at me, wide-eyed. “Are you sure?”
I nod. He looks at the other men.
“Did the elves finally find us?” Einar asks.
I take off running back as the rest follow well behind, not able to keep up. All but this stranger, Thon.
Thon and I are the first to make it back as the people all scramble in fear, boarding their homes. I found my mother with Thora. “What is going on?”
“A fleet of ships are on their way,” mother says, with her hands shaking as one clings to Thora’s hand with Sigvor behind her. She grabs my arm with the other. “Where are your siblings and Beorcol?”
“We ran ahead. They fell behind.”
“I have to go to them,” she says, her voice shaky.
“You, Sigvor, Thora, and my siblings stay in the forest. It’s safer there,” I say.
She nods and goes to leave, but Thora grabs my hand. “Uncle Bothvi. I’m scared.”
I lean down to look into her eyes, which are watering. “It’s okay to be afraid, but don’t let it control you. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise. But I’m going to need you to be brave for me. You’re going to have to go with your grandmother and help her find your uncles and aunty Svala. Okay? They need your help. Can you do that for me?”
She nods as a fire rekindles in her eyes. She lets go, and my mother swoops her up in her arms and takes off. They both give me one more glance before they disappear outside. Thon follows me to the harbor. The fleet she spoke of is on the horizon, sailing in fast towards us. I can make them out even though they’re still a good way out, a few leagues or more. But their ships are odd. Not elven. Not that different from our own but much bigger. There are only about four or five ships, but the size of them would throw some people off. They’re traveling swiftly, but I’m sure I have enough time. Time to get what I need.
I turn to Thon. “Those aren’t any ships I recognize. They look far bigger than any ship I’ve seen.”
He nods in agreement. “They’re Jotnar ships. I’m sure of it.’
My eyes go wide, and for the first time since The Longest Night, I fear a tinge of fear. I thought the giants of Jotunheim were a myth. Giants from the land of ice. “If that’s true, there’s something I need to get so I can better kill these giants. I’ll be back.” I take off through the side gate and up to the mountains.
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