Bothvar Beorcolsson
A woman with hair as gold as any treasure. Eyes as blue as the sea itself. A smile that challenges the sun. Even the stars in the sky can’t compete with her beauty. She radiates with warmth. Her touch brings joy to my soul. She fills me with life. She is all mine, and I am hers. Holding her in my arms, the world seems to fade away. She’s the goddess I worship. The moon in the night to guide me through the darkness. With her, I am not afraid of anything. Even in the face of the storm, with her by my side, I am the storm. In the great golden hall of my father, I find no greater joy than holding this beautiful woman in my arms. Even when we were young, she was always mine. Even as children, we were always together, in love with each other. Now that she is my wife, my life feels complete. She’s given me children I could not be prouder of.
I love her tender compassion. And her playfulness. Even now, when we are already bound by marriage, we act like mere youngins, sneaking kisses in empty corridors as parties rage on in my father’s hall. Even when we’re caught red-handed, we play it off like a bunch of naive whelps, pretending nothing happened. But as soon as they’re gone, we’re back to attacking each other’s lips. After all this time, we still have this deep, burning passion for each other.
Every time I come home from battle, I can’t hold back from taking this woman into my arms and into our bed. She’s the reason I fight at all, and no other woman can bring me the joy of her heart. I will never be with another woman again. None of them can compare to her.
“Bothvar!” I’m abruptly awoken as water splashes against my face. I shoot up out of bed to see Thorkel, Asfrid, Svala, and Bodvar chuckling.
“To Niflheim with you lot!” I snap at them. But then I see Arni with her arms crossed as she glares at them and I calm down.
“I told you he wouldn’t like it,” she says before her eyes meet mine. “I tried to stop them, Bothvi.”
My siblings chuckle. Thorkel drops the jug on my gut. “Get up, Bothvi. We’re leaving for the All-Clan Meeting today. I can’t wait, it’s always so much fun!” My brother puts emphasis on the nickname Arni gave me in a mocking tone.
Asfrid and my siblings all follow Thorkel out, leaving me with Arni. “I’m sorry they did that to you. And if you want, I’ll stop calling you Bothvi so they don’t make fun of you for it.”
“Don’t apologize, and I hope you never stop calling me Bothvi. I like the way you say it,” I say as I climb out of bed, walk up, and hug her. She hugs me back and I savor the joy it brings me. When we finally pull apart, I meet her eyes. “I had a crazy dream about us.”
Her beautiful smile radiates upon me. “Is that so? What was it about?”
“It was the most magnificent dream ever. We were married, and we snuck off from a party to… Well… Let’s just say it wasn’t to talk.” I grin as I scratch the back of my neck, realizing that maybe I shouldn’t go into the details of what happened. My cheeks burst with heat and hers are as red as those flowers she likes to pick. “It was odd though… We were all grown up, but the hall we were in, which I guess was my father’s… It was far bigger than this hall. It was pure gold and extravagant. Maybe it’s a sign of what is to come and we have to build a bigger hall. I’m not sure.”
“I like it. Not so much the hall, but the thought of us being married and sneaking off. Can we make that happen?” she asks, staring up at me with those deep blue eyes, as sweet as honey. How can I say no to her?
I nod. “It’s a promise that we will be married and have lots of children, just like in my dreams.”
She practically leaps into my arms, burying her face in my chest. “That will be a dream come true.”
—
My brother is finally a man and will set sail with my father. We journey with our people to the meeting of clans. We sail out near the end of spring. Thankfully, the journey to the town of Avala Village is short since they are just to the south of us, past the Valkyrie village of Forsa. Father says they named themselves Valkyrie after the women warriors of the gods who lead the souls of fallen warriors to the halls of the gods.
From what I’ve seen, the women there are brave warriors themselves. Tonna, the daughter of their war chief, once beat up my brother and our friends Vog, Solmund, and Griotgard all at once using a staff of hers. She wasn’t even any older than them. Her mother is even more fierce. Amalasontha is a very intimidating woman.
The Ice Tribe is only a morning’s journey south. We sail down the spring coastline as only lumps of snow and ice remain and arrive at the Village which sits upon the entrance of a river. After we dock our ships, most of the slaves carry our supplies outside the village where we set up camp with the rest of the clans.
It seems like most of the other clans are here. The Wolf Clan came last night and set up camp, same as the Giants of the mountains. Along with the Builders, the Valkyrie arrived before us. The only clans missing are the Eagle Clan and the Bone Eaters. Of course, the Bone Eaters are exiled and not welcome here for their disgusting practice of eating the flesh of others. The Eagles rarely ever leave their village far to the southeast, up in the mountains above the Wolf village of Fenris.
I share a tent with my brother, Thorkel, while Thormar and Bodvar share a tent. Thormar has to chase Bodvar down after he takes his precious maps. Bodvar laughs and calls Thormar a bloody goat turd, mimicking Aldam. The boy always tries to act like people he admires. I saw him pretending to be father, trying to mimic father’s lectures to Thormar when he threw a temper tantrum. Svala helps Bodvar, and they play keep away from Thormar, with even Asfrid joining in. My sister sleeps with my Aunt Sigvor along with Asfrid and Arngunn. Semet is also with them. And of course, my parents get a tent for themselves. Uncle Koll and all three of his wives set up their tent next to my father’s with the other captains of their raiding party, Einar and Throst, with their wives. Koll’s children and grandchildren all pitch their tents next to ours. Same with Einar’s children. Vog nearly gets into a fight trying to pitch his tent right next to ours, but neither Griotgard, Solmund, or Skardi will budge. He settles for pitching his tent on the other side of theirs. Thankfully, Thorkel could calm him down.
His brother, Eystein Einarson, had to share a tent with their little cousin, Trandil. He’s a little younger than Thormar and is rather weak and pathetic. He can’t even stomach the sight of blood without passing out.
Eystein’s my age, but he’s a bit of a hermit. Always has his nose in one of those books. He’s not all that better of a fighter than Trandil. Their sisters Thorgunna and Gudfrid camp next to Aunt Sigvor and the girls.
Our cousin Veleif Kollson and his two wives Halldora and Thorballa Cnutdottir, who are sisters, set up near father and the captains. His daughters, Aldis, Estrid, Asvor, and Bolla, along with Svafar’s daughter Hilde, cram into one big tent next to their aunts’ tents (who are also our cousins). Frida gets her own tent while Greiland shares with Yngvild. Svafar pitches up next to Veleif with his wives, Hallgerd Sigviddottir and Tofa Odinkardottir. Saxi is next to Svafar with his wives Arnbjorg Thorstardottir and Geirlaug Thorhalldottir. Gilli, who is Thorkel’s age, shares a tent with two women who he plans to marry, named Hallberta Thorstardottir and Jofrid Sigviddottir. Jofrid is Hallgerd’s younger sister. Both are Solmund, Griotgard, Hosvir, and Vigdis’ older sisters. Gilli’s tent is across from ours, while the youngest of Koll’s sons, Tyrkir, sets his tent up next to Gilli with a girl named Oddny, who is one of Throst’s daughters. Those two are also planning to marry.
Veleif’s son, Hunbogi, tents with his cousins, Starolf Saxison and Gudrik Svafarson, who are the sons of Veleif’s brothers, Svafar and Saxi and, and sets up next to Thormar and Bodvar. Starolf and Gudrik get along just fine, but neither seem to like Hunbogi for whatever reason. He seems rather cruel. Especially to their slaves.
The slaves all get jammed into two different tents, one for the labor, which is mostly men, and another for the house slaves, mainly women, except for Aunt Sigvor’s. They share a small tent behind hers along with Mother’s favorite slaves. Koll has several vast tents for all his slaves besides the ones that are favored by him and his family. Some even sleep in their tents.
When Thormar finally gets his maps back, Thorkel convinces Bodvar to turn his pranks on that no-good, rotten slave Morcar. The rat who is constantly tattling on other slaves and is an arselicker. He tattled on Thorkel once, and Thorkel has never forgotten about it.
Bodvar shoves a snake he finds down the back of the slave’s tunic. I shiver as a chill goes down my spine at the sight of the snake. Svala and Thorkel nearly die of laughter. And even Asfrid joins in. Arni, on the other hand, doesn’t think it’s funny.
Gudrod finds us and, as usual, follows us around like a lost puppy. He’ll do anything Thorkel or even I say; He practically worships the ground we walk on. Thorkel gets him to sneak into Brynhild Svartkollrdottir’s tent, one of the most beautiful shield maidens in our village, and steal her undergarments.
Her son, Thorvir Stormborn, who is good friends with Thormar, is said to have been born out at sea during a storm. The tale is a strange one. Apparently, Brynhild was still a virgin and suddenly became pregnant while out raiding with Einar Alriksson, my uncle Koll’s brother. They said the entire pregnancy didn’t last longer than a couple of days. She was pregnant, and then gave birth during a particularly nasty storm. Some say it was the gods that got her pregnant. None of the crew confesses to sleeping with her. Everyone collaborates with the story. Anyway, Gudrod gets caught by Thorvir and tossed out. Thorvir has a bit of a temper, but he’s good in a fight. Can’t imagine why he’s friends with Thormar.
As we settled in, we were greeted by Kadal Bothvarsson and Eawyn. Her daughter, Scyra, seems to stand a ways behind her with a sour expression on her face. Both women have particularly strange snow-white hair. Scyra is too young to have her hair already go white. They also share the same color of icy blue eyes. Both seem to glow like that of the elves, but they have a chill to them and they still have the whites of their eyes.
It is said that Eawyn and her daughter can both summon a storm of winter and bring down a rain of ice. They command the cold as if they ruled over it. At least that is what I heard.
My father and mother greet them warmly as my siblings and I hang back. They talk for a while before the Ice Tribe leaders leave.
Aldam Bronzehammer, who plants his tent with ours, is greeted by two other dwarves. One looks like a woman, and the other is shorter by a head. I didn’t know there were women dwarves. He waves Thorkel, Thormar, Svala, Bodvar, and me over to him. “Hey, arsefaces. Meet my siblings, Baggisli, the toad on the left, and Oddim, the one with the big mouth.”
“I see your manners haven’t improved,” the dwarf named Baggisli says. I’m surprised to hear a woman’s voice seeing how she has a beard longer than most of our clan mates. She has red hair, braided into two tails that rest on her shoulders. She’s a little shorter than Aldam, and not as stout either, but taller than Oddim. She has a rather square face with a stern set of eyes.
“Did you expect anything less?” Oddim asks. He has curly red hair and a fiery red beard with a single braid that goes down to his chest. “Aldam has always had the manners of a goat. He gets it from our father.”
“Hey! Don’t you go off bad mouthing my mentor, you bloody goat arse lickers!” Bodvar shouts as he steps up to the other two dwarfs waving a tiny fist. Everyone erupts in laughter.
After Aldam catches his breath from heaving with laughter, he puts a thick hand on Bodvar’s head, messing up his hair. Then he leans in to whisper, if you can call it that, since his whisper is louder than most people’s normal talk. “Those two get their snobbiness from our mother.”
The three dwarves get into a long-winded argument, and we take the opportunity to slip away. After things settle down, Thormar joins his friends, Starolf Saxison, Gudrik Svafarson, Trandil Sibbesson, Bragi Serksson, Saksi Sekisson, Harvard Grimwaldson, Bjornuulf Ulfsson, and Thorvir Stormborn with his maps. Thormar is obsessed with his maps and always talks about the islands and lands to the west, past the forest of elves.
My father takes Thorkel and me to the village, where we meet in the hall with the other clan leaders as the meeting begins. I don’t really listen because it’s so boring. A lot of bickering between trading goods, especially food.
Most of the bickering is between my father and the Wolf Clan leaders. Bjarni Vikarsson is their Earl. He is an old man who has gained a fat gut, but he still has this sense of hardness to him, as if he has seen many battles. He’s brought his son Vidkunn, who’s a little younger than my father. And his grandsons. One’s name is Baldric, the son of Bjarni’s daughter, Asny, along with Vidkunn’s oldest sons, Thorgrim and Thorhall. He also has two daughters named Asa and Dalla and another son named Gadaric, who is around Svala and Bodvar’s age. Dalla is a little older, Asa is older than Thorhall, and Thorgrim is the oldest. At least that’s what I think.
I heard Baldric and his twin sister, Siv, can talk to wolves. They sleep with them or something. He’s about my brother’s age, if I had to guess, and he seems like an excellent warrior. He has a stone face that gives nothing away.
The Giant Kveldulf, the leader of his clan, is by far the tallest man I’ve ever seen. He is easily the size of two men standing on top of each other and needs to constantly duck down to avoid hitting his head.
Amalasontha and two other women are here for the Valkyrie. Her face is like that of a rock. Unforgiving and unwavering. Her first companion is a little less hard and about the same age. She smiles here and there. The other looks far younger and seems more reserved.
The Builder is an older man who, like Bjarni, also has a gut, but lacks his hardness. He seems to be a very animated man who loves to express himself with his hands. I think his name is Trefor Trehame. The Builders are a weird lot. They do not use the same naming way as we do, which is to use the father’s name with the dottir or son attached to the end. They have some kind of family and tribal clan name, as I understand it.
Beyond that are only Eawyn and Kadal, with Scyra sulking in the background. The meeting goes on forever and ever, with more and more arguments and words being tossed around. Especially by my father and the Wolf Clan.
At one point I was sure it would come to axes. I try to focus, but it’s so boring. My attention often wanders. I also take notice that Scyra doesn’t seem to be all that interested either. She twirls a dagger around her fingers. She catches me staring and pretends to chuck her dagger at me. I don’t even flinch. Then her eyes seem to dig into me, and we get caught up in a staring contest.
She only wins because I hear them mention war, and my attention gets pulled away. However, I find out it’s only the prospects of war against the south and they’re sure it won’t happen this cycle. They always talk about war with the Southerners, but it never comes. When I look back at the girl, she sticks her tongue out at me. I return the gesture. The meeting finally ends, but we have to listen to both Kadal and Eawyn give a long speech before the fun part begins.
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