Bothvar Beorcolsson
We set up our tents just outside the village. The slaves do most of the work setting up camp and pitching our tents. Thormar gets stuck with Bodvar. Thora with Aunt Sigvor and Svala. Sigvor’s slaves are behind them with Thormar’s. Mother obviously with father. Me by myself, next to the men who’ll be on my ship and my brothers. I know I said I will not raid, but I’ve come to admit the necessity. I won’t have another winter where my people starve. If it means taking from others, so be it. Besides, as much as I have all but put aside the thoughts of revenge, I will kill the elf who took my brother if I come across him.
As we finish getting settled in, I head out to find my father. He is arguing with my mother like always, and it’s about the Wolf Clan, which is even less of a surprise. “Beorcol, you can’t go starting fights. This is not the place or the time to do so.”
“I cannot let that bastard, Bjarni, get away with what he did. He killed my father and my grandfather. I saw it with my own eyes. I will not rest until his head lies at my feet,” my father says.
“And then what, will you let his son, Vidkunn, get his revenge upon you for killing his father?” mother asks, crossing her arms against her chest with a glare. “Will you continue this stupid cycle of taking father after father? If you kill Bjarni and Vidkunn kills you, then that will force your children to seek revenge. And Vidkunn’s children. And the children of their children. This cycle must stop here and now.”
My father grumbles. “I hate when you’re right, but that doesn’t mean I agree to it. If Bjarni and his sons provoke me, I’ll kill ’em. I’ll kill ’em all and end the blood feud once and for all.”
“Then you better make sure you kill every last Wolf or you’ll shackle our children to this prison of stupidity,” she says before she turns her back to him and walks away muttering under her breath. “Stupid, pig-headed, sheep’s arse, chicken shit of a man.”
My father huffs. “Damn the gods. Why does that woman always have to be right?”
His eyes meet mine. “I take it you heard that?”
“I think the entire camp heard that,” I say.
“You might be right. She is so loud,” he says, and I can’t help but laugh.
“She is your wife,” I say with a grin.
“That she is, and as crazy as it sounds, I would have no other. The damn woman is far wiser than I,” he says, sighing. I follow him as he walks to the mess tent and pours himself a mug of ale and downs the entire thing. “I needed that. Shall we head to the meeting of the clans? Wouldn’t want to miss that shit feast.”
I nod, and he puts his hand on my shoulder. “We’ll need the intervention of the gods to make it out of that meeting with a clean sword. Where are your siblings? Fetch Bodvar and Thormar. I want them to witness it so they see the stupidity they’ll have to deal with when I’m gone.”
I nod and head to their tent, pushing inside to see a shit feast of their own. The two are at each other’s throats, trying to see who can go longer without breathing. I sigh and yank Thormar off of Bodvar, tossing him outside. How am I not surprised by either of these two. It’s been taking less and less to boil Thormar’s blood and Bodvar knows exactly where to dig to unbury Thormar’s anger.
Thormar barges back into the tent. “I’ll kill him. I swear to the gods, I’ll kill him.”
I have to restrain him as Bodvar holds up a fist with his pinky finger out signally that Thormar has a little pecker and only causes him to erupt in further rage. And of course, Bodvar continues to hurl insults at him. “Oh, come off it. You’re acting like a girl. All I did was touch one thing.”
“You’re a donkey’s arse! I told you not to touch my stuff and then I find it all flung out on the floor,” Thormar says as he tries to push past me to charge at him once more.
“I told you I wanted this side. You took it just to spite me,” Bodvar says as he folds his hands against his chest and spits on the ground.
“Will you two shut up? Bodvar, what does it matter what side you sleep on? And don’t touch Thormar’s stuff. You know how sensitive he is,” I say rather satirically.
“I always sleep on my right side and I don’t want to sleep with my back to the entrance,” Bodvar says.
“That is a fair point. Thormar, why did you take that side when Bodvar claimed it for himself?” I ask.
“He only claimed it after I had already set my stuff down on the bed and settled in,” Thormar says.
“Bodvar, why can’t you just sleep on the other side of the bed so that way you’ll be facing the entrance in case someone, for whatever reason, decides to come into your tent,” I say.
Bodvar thinks it over. “I don’t know. Then my head will be close to the entrance. It’d be all too easy to pull a knife out and stab me in the neck before I can react.”
I toss my hands up in the air. “You two will just have to figure this out on your own then. Father is waiting for us to head to the meeting. He doesn’t want to be late. Are you two going to make him late over your petty squabbles?”
Both shake their heads no. “Then come on.”
They follow me out as Svala, Thora, and Aunt Sigvor exit their own tent. Thora rushes up to me, grabbing my tunic. “Bothvi, are we going to train? You said you would spar with me today.”
I can’t help but let out a sigh. “It’ll have to wait until after the meeting.”
“But you said once we get to the village, we will train. Well?” She says, raising her hands. “We’re at the village, are we not?”
Svala has a big smirk on her lips. Why does she take so much delight in my misery?
“I can’t do it now, girl. The meeting won’t take that long. Just be patient,” I say. Thora glares at me with her arms crossed.
“Come on, Thora. Let us go meet up with your grandmother and aunty Ingithora. Then you can go play with the other children,” Sigvor says.
“Okay, but if you don’t honor your word, I’ll tan your hide just like Grandmother does!” I spit out a laugh. She huffs. “Don’t laugh at me. I’ll do it.”
“I don’t doubt it,” I say with a smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll spar with you once we are done.”
“You better,” she says, stalking off with Svala and Sigvor.
“That girl is going to be the death of me,” I mutter as we meet up with father.
“What took you so long?” father asks.
I just glare at him. He sighs and looks at Bodvar and Thormar, who both only shrug. Dirty rotten bastards.
—
We enter the great hall where tables are already set up in one giant square. Some clan leaders are already here, including Amalgunda with Amalasontha, who both nod our way as we enter, and next to them is Trefor Trehame with his sons, Asgrim and Kadal. Kveldulf and a tall giant woman sit across from them. She is either his wife or daughter, I can’t really tell. although she isn’t ugly, which is surprising. She’s rather beautiful for being such a giant of a woman.
Behind us, a pack of Wolves walk in with Bjarni at the front. My father and he meet with fire in their eyes. Behind him are his son, Vidkunn; his daughter, Asny; Vidkunn’s sons Thorgrim, Thorhall, and Gadaric; and Asny’s twins, Baldric and Siv.
“Have to bring the entire pack with you?” father asks with a smirk.
Bjarni eyes my father. The older man seems to debate whether or not to take the bait. “Don’t tell me the great Beorcol Thorgrimsson is afraid of some boys?”
My father spits on the floor. “I am not afraid of any Wolf. In fact, my hall is filled with wolf pelts. I would like to add a few more.”
Baldric growls behind him as he and his sisters clench their fists. Those two always seemed more wolf than man or woman. Although, I can admit that the woman is not bad on the eyes. “Count yourself lucky that I don’t allow my grandchildren to kill you where you stand, you treacherous swine.”
“I’d like to see them try. Maybe today will be the day I finally end the Wolf line, since it was a mistake,” father growls.
“Will you two ever put it to rest?” a familiar voice says. We all look up to find Eawyn entering with her daughter and Kadal Bothvarsson, the brother of King Teowulf. “I grow tired of your constant petty squabbling.”
“How can I rest when the man who killed my father and grandfather still breathes?” Father asks.
“They deserved it for killing my father Vikar and my grandfather Hallkel,” Bjarni growls back.
“You both have plenty of reasons to hate each other, but there are plenty more reasons to become friends rather than enemies,” Eawyn says as she, Kadal, and her daughter step up to the table. She places her hands on the table and leans in. “Word has grown that the Southerners are discussing taking actions against our raids. They want to not only put an end to them, but also an end to us.”
“Where did you hear this?” Bjarni says.
“I have my spies. So far, from my understanding, it is only the three Northern cities that want war. Chillshore which was stolen from us, Barefrost, and Darkstall. Fortunately, for now, they do not have the support of the Usurper swine, Vandil. But we should prepare for the inevitability that they will eventually gain his support and come knocking at our doorsteps. We should always be ready for war, even in times of peace,” Eawyn says. Then she stands up straight and brings her hands out to the empty seats. “Now, will you two join us to discuss these important matters?”
My father and the Wolf Leader glare at each other before they nod to Eawyn. We take our seats next to the Valkyrie Clan on the other side of the Builders, while the Wolves sit across from us with the Giants. Eawyn sighs. “I take it the Eagle Clan will not be joining us?”
“Have they ever joined us?” my father asks as slaves bring out drinks for everyone.
“Cowards. That’s what they are,” Kveldulf says, slamming his fist against the table, cracking it. “We should’ve wiped them out when they refused to join us in the war against the South.”
“We will not fight each other, that is exactly what the Southerners want,” Amalasontha says.
“As always, the wisdom of the Valkyrie Clan shows true. As much as the Eagles deserve to be punished, we would only hasten our own defeat at the hands of the Southerners when we let our warriors die at the sword of our fellow Northerners,” Eawyn says as she looks particularly at my father and Bjarni. “Now, before we dig into this issue, let us first discuss other important things such as trade and food, then we’ll discuss raiding, and finally we’ll bring the subject of potential war up once again.”
Everyone nods. Eawyn smiles as she takes a sip, before continuing. “Now what clans need food? It may have not been as long as The Longest Night, but Winter was still a harsh one.”
“We could use more food to last until summer,” father says, before taking a long swallow of his drink. “The Jotnar raid wiped out a good portion of what we had left from winter.”
“We have plenty to spare and will gladly send some of it over,” Amalgunda says.
My father nods at her in thanks. “When summer arrives, we will send over all the spare fish that is caught by our fishermen.”
Amalgunda nods in return.
“Anyone else?” Eawyn asks. No one else speaks up. “Then on to the next issue. Trade. Let us hear all the needs you have and see if we can come to an agreement.”
“As always, the Builders are forever in need of raw materials. Except for lumber, we could always use more metals, clothes, clay, and more. We’re willing to trade finished tools and weapons for raw materials as long as we can keep a share to ourselves for our own needs,” Trefor says, scratching his white beard.
“We have just come to discover a massive amount of ore within the mountains. Mostly coal, iron, and this heavy metal that is nearly impossible to lift without proper training. We’d be glad to help mine and deliver it with the aid of your people for a cut of the tools and weapons made from it,” father says.
Trefor nods, resting his hands on his big round belly. “That is a fair trade. We’ll agree to it. We can send over people to help mine and carry the ore after the end of the meeting of the clans.”
Father nods. Then Bjarni speaks up. “The Southerners at Barefrost have plenty of metal to give once we take it from them. The mountains surrounding their town are rich with it. We’ll give you most of what we take for a share of the tools and weapons made from it.”
Trefor also nods at him. “That deal is also satisfactory.”
“We can help mine and deliver it if we can have a share as well,” Amalgunda says.
“I see no problem with that. And the Giants are also welcome to help for a share,” Trefor says.
“The mountains to our north have more metal than all of us could ever mine in the lifetimes of our children’s children. I see no problem in sharing it with all who help us mine it,” father says with a nod. “Just be warned that the mountains can be treacherous and are filled with these fiendish creatures we’ve come to call Shadow Stalkers. They hunt at night and feed on flesh. I’m also certain that the thieves at Chillshore also mine in the mountains, so we have to be prepared for a fight.”
“I welcome a fight with those bastards,” Kveldulf says, once again slamming his fist on the table, further splintering it.
“I fear no fight with the usurpers, but won’t seek it out either,” Amalasontha says, wearily. “I do not want to lose any of my people needlessly.”
They all nod at that. Eawyn speaks up. “We, too, will send aid to the mountains. Now, are there any other needs to be met?”
Eawyn takes a moment to wait for any response. “No? Then let us move on to raiding. Last cycle, raids went well. Shall we plan to do the same this time around?”
“I see no problem with that,” father says.
“Easy for you to say, squid lover,” Vidkunn barks, slamming his fist down.
Father lets out a low growl. “What did you call me?”
“You heard me!” Vidkunn says with a snarl.
“Maybe you’d like to say that to my ax,” father says even though we do not have weapons on us because it is forbidden during clan meetings, for obvious reasons.
Vidkunn stands up. “Gladly.”
“Son, now is not the time,” Bjarni says.
“Finally, one of you Wolves speaks wisdom,” father says.
“Oh, and you’re just a fountain of knowledge?” Bjarni asks.
“I’ve got more wisdom in my little finger than you have in your entire clan,” father says.
“That’s it! Let us form a square!” Bjarni shouts, spilling over his ale as he pounces to his feet.
“Enough. This has got to end,” Eawyn says.
“It’ll end when he lies on a burning funeral pyre,” father says, stabbing his eyes into the old Wolf.
“No! I forbid it. You all act like children,” Eawyn says.
Scyra snorts a laugh. “You should punish them like children. Make them work together like you did when I fought with Alyndra…”
She looks away as her eyes close in a bitter sadness. I heard about what happened to her sister. Snatched up by Southern slavers and sold.
Eawyn rubs her chin. “Maybe that is exactly what we should do. My daughter has far more wisdom than either of you two have shown so far. Here is what I decree. You two shall trade sons who will live with the other clan. You will learn each other’s ways.”
“For how long?” my father asks.
“Until you both can see that you are not that different from each. Until you learn to bury this hate, you have for the other. That is my decree,” she says.
“A wise one, it is if it succeeds,” Kadal says.
“I don’t like it,” Bjarni says.
“Neither do I,” father says.
“So, you’d rather kill each other instead? What will that solve aside from making us all weaker? We need to stand strong together or we will be defeated by ourselves,” she says.
Father looks back at us. He eyes me, then Thormar, and then Bodvar. Then his glare lands on the Wolves before turning back to Eawyn. “Do we get to choose who we trade?”
“Your youngest. You’ll send over Bodvar and Bjarni, you’ll give up Gadaric. You’ll integrate them within your clan and by the gods. If any harm shall come to them by one of your own, you’ll have to answer to me,” she says.
“And if they get hurt during a raid?” Bjarni asks.
“Why would you ask that?” father says. “Are you planning on my son having an accident?”
“No. I wouldn’t sink so low, but if he is to be one of us, he’ll raid like us,” Bjarni says.
“If he falls by the blade of a Southerner, then we will exact our punishment on the South, however, if I suspect foul play, I will bring down swift justice on the guilty,” Eawyn says, slamming her hand on the table. Ice spreads from her touch, freezing the entire table in a thick layer of ice. “Am I clear?”
Everyone nods. Eawyn smiles and draws the ice back into her hand. “Then it is settled. Bodvar Beorcolsson will go to the Wolf Clan, and Gadaric Vidkunnsson will go to the Kraken Clan. They will remain there until both clans can set aside their differences and bury their hate for each other, and I’ll decide when that happens.”
“Now, let us talk about more important matters. I fear war might be inevitable with the South if we continue to raid upon their ships and caravans, but I do not think we should stop because we have just cause for such actions. As long as they still hold Chillshore, we will not stop raiding them. Chillshore is ours. We built it. They have no right to dirty it with their greedy tyrant arses,” she says, anger burning into her words even though they have an icy sting.
The leaders all smack the tables in agreement. A smile appears on Eawyn’s face. “We might not be ready to face the Southerners in war, just yet, but the time is near. As the prophecy says, when the daughter of winter marches south, the north will follow and the daughter of a king will sit upon the throne. It is clear that when we do march into war, we will be victorious!”
The leaders all stand up in a roar of approval. “For now, my friends, prepare yourselves for the inevitable war to come. Fill your racks with weapons, harden your warriors, and strengthen your resolve. The time to get our justice is nearly upon us. We will bring down the Tyrant Usurper, Vandil, and justice will be served.”
The men and women clap the table with their fists until Kveldulf’s table breaks in half. Laughter erupts from the others. The giant man shrugs.
Eawyn looks satisfied. “Now, if there are no further matters to discuss, we shall end the meeting and celebrate the beginning of the summer raids.”
No one objects. Eawyn spreads her hands. “Then it is settled. You are all welcome to feast, drink, and enjoy yourselves. However, there will be strict punishments for those who break the peace. There shall be no killing here. As long as you all understand that, there will be no problems. Drink up and enjoy yourselves. The meeting is over.” Slowly, the clans disperse from the hall back to their camps.
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