Author: Arathadmin

Bothvar Beorcolsson

Part 3!

A few days go by as we continue to sail east. The crew’s morale has all but vanished. Thorkel seemed to be the heart of it all, and without him and the rest, we sail in silence. This entire journey has been an utter failure.

We should’ve sailed west as Thorkel wanted. Maybe then we’d have seen success, and he’d still be alive. This is Thrain’s fault. Thrain and Gorm. Them and these elves. I want to hunt every last one of them down and kill them myself. Especially the one with the fire red hair. I’ll kill him if it’s the last thing I do.

More days go by as I put my anger and hate to work. With every rope I tie, I imagine tying it around the elf’s neck. My every effort is motivated by only revenge.

After days and days of sailing east, we finally come across both Throst and Einar. They must’ve regrouped after scattering. We sail up to them and tie the ships together. They share with us the tale of how they escaped the elves. Throst lost them in the fog while Einar crippled the other elven ship with a few well-placed shots with the Ballistae.

“We should continue south to see if we can find a few more ships before making the journey home,” Einar says.

“And what about the elves?” Koll asks. “We barely escaped.”

“They have two ships that need repairs and won’t make it back. The others we might be able to take in battle since we have a ship more than they,” Einar says.

“I’d still rather avoid them if we can,” Koll says.

“Perhaps we can find some unlucky merchant ships on their way up. Perhaps,” Rognvald says.

“But we have to tempt fate in order to do so,” Koll says and looks at Throst. “What say you, Throst?”

“Our only raid has been rather disappointing. We’ll still need more supplies if we want to make it through winter. I say we try one more time,” he says.

“Then it’s settled,” Koll says. “We’ll sail south.”

The men nod. I follow Rognvald back to our ship and we set sail, turning our ships south. Days go by as we continue to sail. We’ve eaten through more than half of our own food supply that we have brought with us. We did not get much from the only merchant ship we have found. It was mostly ale, wine, fine silks, and slaves.

With the scorching sun continuing to burn down on us and what little fresh water we have, we have to drink it sparingly. I’ve gotten used to the salty smell, and it no longer bothers me.

After what feels like forever, we finally come across two ships sailing north. As they see us, they try to turn back, but it is too late. We give chase and manage to sink our chained ballistae bolts on their deck and hull. Eager for someone to kill, I am one of the first on. Killing the few men who are willing to fight. I revel in the slaughter. All I could see was the elf who took my brother from me. His face was in every man I killed. It may have not given me pleasure to watch my sword sink into another man’s flesh, but it fed my need for revenge. Savagely ripping my blade into the gut of an elven sailor. I stare into his eyes, seeing the red-haired, vile elf who killed my brother. I watch the life seep out of his eyes before I move on to kill another and another. No matter how many I kill, I can’t satiate the thirst for blood. The raging fire within me doesn’t waver. It hungers for more death. Especially these elves.

I killed as many as I could until there were none left. It dawns on me that I have earned my first kill, and it doesn’t even matter to me. Not when that foul elf still breathes.

We take everything we can from the ship, including the people who didn’t fight and survived as slaves. Some of the crew took the opportunity to plant their seed in the slaves, but not I. I only see them as enemies. My only desire is to kill them all, but I hold my hand. Even though I haven’t satiated this new desire for blood, reason and logic wins out.

The ship is not completely damaged beyond repair, so we leave a few men to man it and take it back with us. Throst and Einar were successful in capturing the second ship, so we finally decide to sail back.

I take inventory of the new slaves. Most beaten and battered. Surprised to see some humans among the elves. I look at the humans. Some seem rather cowardly. One in particular, a short and chubby man-child who stinks of shit. I’m sure he soiled himself. It seems like this ship was carrying a few monks, both men and women. My men got the magic suppressing collars around their necks. Five of them. Three women and two men. Then another woman with dark skin the color of tree bark and curly black hair. She’s already a slave with a collar around her neck. It’s hard to deny her beauty however. Although she looks like she hasn’t eaten in a while.

“I… I am a nobleman and my people will pay a huge ransom to have me back,” the cowardly, shit-stinking man-child says. “My name is Lord Guthhere of Riverhall. My father is one of the advisors to Lord Arcas Ragnus.”

“Do you hear that, men?” Gizor says with a chuckle. “This whelp is a lordling…”

The rest of the crew chuckle and laugh. Gizor does a fake bow. “Well, lordling, my apologies. If we had known you were a lordling, we would’ve asked your permission to raid your ship.”

The crew snickers. Gizor spits in the cowardly lord’s face. I ignore the charades and look at the monks. The women are beautiful. All three have warm ivory skin. The dark brown-haired one is a little taller than the other two. The blonde is of medium height, and the red-haired one is the shortest of the three. All three women look broken and none meet my eyes. The two male monks are quite different. One is quite older than the other, balding and growing a beard. He gives me a defiant stare while the younger, who has blonde hair, is rather timid and avoids making eye contact. His eyes are red and puffy. From the way he stands and how he walked, I can assume he too may have been seeded. Most men don’t care whether a slave is a man or woman, they just need a hole to sow their seed in.

Even now, in my anger and grief, I still can’t force myself on another. I don’t care if they are slaves. Besides, my heart and my cock belong to Arni and no other. And I know how she would see such an act. It’s cowardice to me, but I can’t refuse the crew their fill as much as I’d like to. “Unless you lot have any problems, keep these slaves for my mother. She and Sigvor are in need of more hands. Especially these monks. They might have some use in healing.”

“Sounds reasonable to me,” Rognvald says.

“Good, put em down in the bottom deck but keep them separate from the elves,” I say. I watch the men take the slaves as they accept their fate without struggling. I take the key to their collars from Rognvald.

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Lura Syllana

He molests my bare breasts as he pins me against the bed. My skin crawls at his touch as fear, anger, shame, and disgust well up inside of me once again. I can’t go through this again. I can’t be his victim. Not like this.

I must do something. Anything.

Phraan reaches underneath my skirts, and panic arises underneath me. The night I suffered through with that red-haired monster returns like a nightmare taking over a dream, pushing all my primal fear to the surface. His fingers crawl up my thighs and I can’t even scream with his hand squeezing my jaw shut. For the first time since I was broken by that man, I cry. There’s nothing I can do to stop him. I’m going to have to endure it all over again. Worse, because it has to be Phraan this time. How can this happen again?

No! I won’t be helpless. I won’t give in. I will not let him win. Anger boils inside me and I feel a surge of energy. That sweet euphoric and addictive energy I haven’t felt in ages. It warms over me and fills me with power, and unlike before, I’m overrun by it with the help of the invisible ring on my finger. The one I have kept all this time and nearly forgotten about.

I feel like a burning star with all the energy inside me, and then I release it. I release every drop into the man I hate more than anyone else, watching as every last bit of him is burned away. I take joy from the fear in his eyes as he realizes what is happening. But it is too late as cracks of fire-blue light sear across his flesh, burning away his skin as he’s engulfed in the flames and an explosion of the blue light fills the room.

It’s so intense that I can even see it through my eyelids. When it finally flashes out, there’s nothing left of Phraan. Not even a shred of the clothes he wore. I have no idea what I just did. I look at my hand to the ring that still sits on my finger invisible to the eye, and I’m taken with true amazement. I feel nothing for Phraan’s death. Nothing but satisfaction and that sweet, addictive energy as it slowly dwindles to a burning simmer.

I truly had no idea what I was capable of. This power is absolutely amazing. It felt so high and unstoppable. I want to feel more of it. It was far different from the feeling Orym gave me with his healing white light. It felt more powerful. More euphoric in a way. Far more intense than I have ever felt before.

A sudden crash goes off downstairs and I hear the clatter of footsteps marching upstairs before the door to the room is broken in by guards led by a dark-haired man in a robe with a sharp, hooked nose. He stares down at me with contempt. “You have been found guilty of using magic without a permit. I hereby place you under arrest. Seize her, and place the collar around her neck so she can’t channel. Let’s take no risks with her. I’ve never felt such power.”

The guards swarm me as a collar is wrapped around my neck, and suddenly I feel so weak and feeble. It’s as if I’m cut off from that hot, burning fire inside me. Cuffs bind my wrists and ankles. The guards drag me out behind the arrogant man in robes. Madame and the others stare with gaping mouths and wide-eyed expressions as I’m paraded through the brothel in chains. Even the patrons are speechless and horrified.

Am I going to face the same fate as my family, or worse?

End of The Damaged Soul and Bound Soul Prequel

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Bothvar Beorcolsson

The ship spots us, but it’s too late we spread out to trap it. It’s a smaller merchant ship with a single mast. The gunners prepare the ballistae to snag the other ship as it attempts to turn, but we cut off its retreat as Einar and Throst circle it while Koll and our crew move in to board.

There’s nothing it can do, but draw up a white flag. Just as we board the ship, another ship comes out of the fog.

“Thorkel!” Varin howls as Thorkel and I walk the planks over to the other ship with our shields leading the way.

“I see them. They sail a black flag. Pirates!” he says as we storm the deck of the other ship. It’s a bunch of merchants, and they do not put up a fight.

We rush through the merchant ship, taking the crew as slaves, and raiding their supplies and goods. I find a very shiny pendant on a crew member and take it from them to give to Arni. It has a huge white crystal inside it. However, suddenly five more large ships come out of the fog behind the pirate ship.

“Thorkel!” Varin shouts from our ship. “Those are Golden Elf ships!”

Thorkel turns to the rest of us. “Grab what you can, let’s go!”

The men and I frantically take whatever we find and rush over to our own ship as the Pirate ship closes in on us with the elves chasing not too far behind. We take their cargo and the sailors for slaves along with the slaves they held while rushing back onto our own ship. Thorkel sounds the horn for retreat and the other ships go to turn around. Koll’s ship pulls away and follows.

“We won’t be able to get away,” Varin says, continuing to watch the elven ships as they sail towards us.

Thorkel blows the horn several times. Signaling for the others to scatter. Einar draws off one of the elven ships as he sails east.

Throst takes two with him as he heads west, leaving two more as the pirate ship reaches us. It flies a black flag with a red dragon on it. It doesn’t stop, but continues on. 

Thorkel looks into my eyes and puts an arm on my shoulder. “Take care of my wife and child.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask. What is he talking about? Tell me he doesn’t plan on doing something stupid. He’s the captain! He can’t sacrifice himself. I can’t lose my brother.

He turns away from me and to the men. “Who’s ready to go to Valholl with me? I need three who are ready to die with me.”

Styrkar and Saksis Hreinsson look at each other, giving each other nods before they step up. “We’ve got sons ready to take over our legacies.”

Varin steps up. “I too have my legacy set with sons and grandsons. Besides, I’m getting too old for this. Most of my friends and kin are already in Valholl.”

“Varin, you’re too important. We can’t lose a navigator,” Thorkel says before he gives Styrkar and Saksis an apologetic look. “No offense.”

The two old brothers shrug, but Varin seems to have taken offense.  “You can’t deny me Valholl. Besides, I’ve taught Skardi everything I know. He’s ready to take over. And you’re more important than I.”

“Fine,” my brother says.

“What are you planning?” I ask.

“We’re going to ram that merchant ship into the elven ship left. That will let you all escape,” Thorkel says as he walks over to the plank.

“You’re the Captain. You can’t sacrifice yourself. Who will take charge? Let me do it.” I argue.

He turns to Rognvald. “Rognvald will take command. And you know I can’t condemn men to die in place of myself. As father said, never order a crew member to do what you couldn’t do. Besides, I planted another seed in my wife and I know I have a son on the way. My legacy is secured.”

“For the sake of the gods, Thorkel, let me go in your stead,” Rognvald says. What is Thorkel thinking? He can’t do this. It’s… Stupid. This is suicide. 

“No! I will not allow it. I will not order my crew to do something I wouldn’t do myself. Besides, there is no greater honor than to die so your men can live,” Thorkel says.

“But…” I start to ask.

He doesn’t let me finish. “We all have to die, little brother. What better way than to go out than in glory like this? Look after my family for me.”

Varin says his goodbyes to his son Sigvid, his grandsons Solmund and Griotgard, and his brother Grimwald, before giving Skardi some last words. They all argue with him, trying to convince him to stay. Styrkar and Saksis also argue with their own sons, Ulf Styrkarsson and Gizor Saksisson.

But they can’t convince them to stay any more than I can convince Thorkel. He, Styrkar, Saksis, and Varin all walk over to the other ship and kick off the planks before they turn it around and aim it straight at the elves.

I watch helplessly with the sons of the others while the rest get our ships turned around and sail off. Thorkel and the others man the merchant ship and turn it around on the elven ships. The large elven ship tries to turn and avoid them at the last minute, but it is too big. It only allows them to ram right into the side of the frame. I watch, helpless to do anything, as my brother and the other men charge\ with weapons drawn, leaping from the ship’s stern onto the elven ship to engage the elves. My brother slits the throat of one and stabs another, fighting furiously as dead elves fall into the sea to be eaten by sharks or killer whales.

My chest feels like it’s being bashed by a giant warhammer and broken. Why didn’t I stop him? Why did I let him go like that? I should’ve taken his place. I should’ve been the one on the merchant ship. My heart feels as if it has been ripped from my chest as I watch Thorkel get impaled by an elven blade. He decapitates one elf and slices open the chest of another before the one with fire-red hair uses some kind of magic to hold him in the air before he sticks him through. I can see his eyes glow as red as his hair from here. I fall to my knees as my brother falls into the sea. They killed him. They killed my brother. My eyes rain with tears. I’ll make them pay. I’ll kill them all.

I mesmerize every detail of that ship. The flag, the elf with fire red hair and burning eyes. I’ll kill him. I swear it! Swear to all the gods, I’ll kill him. I’ll make him suffer.

Skardi and Solmund put their hands on my shoulders. “Come on. We have to get to work.”

Another ship still follows us.

“We can’t lose them,” Rognvald says.

It feels like there’s a void in my chest as I pull myself up. I look back at the ship following us, and I know what Thorkel would’ve done… “Let’s sail closer to the coast of the Woodland Realm. They’ll run aground if they try to follow us.”

Rognvald nods and gives out the orders. We get the ship turned towards the coast and they continue to pursue as we reach shallower waters and continue north. Just as father mentioned, the other ship finally runs aground, getting stuck. We head back to the deeper water.

We find the pirate ship that fled the elves passing one of the Golden Elven ships that’s burning in flames as it sinks. The pirate sails by our side to the east as we both sail north. Three of the elven ships have been taken down or incapacitated.

The pirate ship is much bigger than ours and from what I can tell, the crew is mixed races between people like us, dwarves, elves, and two other races I’ve never seen before. There are two green-skinned creatures hulking in size with big tusks coming out from their bottom lip. The other race are cat-like people with fur covering their entire bodies.

There’s an elf woman with red hair and a fancy hat. I look up to see their flag again, a black one with a red dragon. I remember my father mentioned this one in particular. He called her Captain Azariah. She nods at us before she sails to the west once we reach the edge of the elven shoreline. Throst and Koll’s ships eventually rejoin, leaving the ruins of another elven ship, but there are no signs of Einar’s ship, or the elves chasing him. I feel defeated without Thorkel.

“We’ll get our revenge,” Solmund says to me as he claps his hand against my shoulder. His eyes show burning hate in them. The face of the boy I grew up with is gone, buried beneath a beard. Like myself, he’s been forced to become a man. Griotgard buries himself in work, as do Ulf, Sigvid, and Skardi. “I swear, we’ll kill those elves.”

I only nod. I make my way up to Rognvald as he stands by Skardi at the steering paddle. He talks to Fridmund and Grimwald.

Grimwald speaks animatedly. “We should circle back to see if we can find Einar. Maybe we can catch the last of those bastards and make em pay!” 

“That’s not what is planned for these situations. We ought to head back to Stormfront,” Fridmund says.

“And just leave Einar’s ship to themselves?” Grimwald says.

“We will hail Koll and Throst to discuss this with them. Koll is still the Raid leader,” Rognvald says.

Fridmund nods and Grimwald grunts. Grimwald grinds his yellow rotten teeth as Rognvald blows the horn and waves the flag to meet. Over on Koll’s ship that’s sailing to the east of us, Koll returns the gesture and we sail closer to each other before we slow down and connect our ships. I follow the three older men onto Koll’s ship while Throst does the same on the other side of Koll.

“What a bloody disaster,” Koll says, running his hands through his black peppered hair as we board his ship.

“What’s your orders?” Rognvald asks. He pulls off his helmet and rubs his bald head. The sun glares off it.

“Let’s circle back and see if we can find Einar. Maybe we can trap the elven bastards,” Koll says, running his hand through his matching peppered beard. “Maybe we can still bring home enough resources to salvage this raid.”

“We should go back to the elven ship we left stranded and kill the bastards that murdered my brother,” I spit out.

“No,” Koll says, his eyes have sympathy, but his voice is stern. “Who knows how many more elven ships were sailing in behind the ones we saw? There will be plenty of opportunities in the future to avenge our fallen. Right now, we need to find Einar and get what little loot we can before we head back.”

Throst says nothing, just nods in agreement.

Rognvald nods. “If that’s your command, we’ll follow.”

Koll looks out at the water. “Einar shouldn’t be far. Let’s head northeast.”

Rognvald nods again. “You heard em. Back to the ship.” We follow Rognvald back to the ship and set sail to the east, following Koll.

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Lura Syllana

I’ve lost all sense of self since the night I endured the abuse of that man. He killed whatever innocence I had within myself and the bit of heart I had left. There’s nothing left of that girl I once knew. She is long dead and turned to ashes. All that is left of me are the broken pieces that are only pain, sorrow, shame, guilt, and regret. I spent several days in hopeless darkness that filled me with despair and shame. I didn’t feel like a person anymore. Just a thing that was used and tossed aside.

I lost any love I had for myself; I’m disgusted with who I have become. The physical pain may have been healed by the priestess, but I still hurt. She was a faceless angel who was gone when I awoke, who I never got to thank. There wasn’t a scar left on my body. But even though the physical pain I endured has been washed away, I still hurt. Not my body, but my heart and soul. The pain I feel inside is all-consuming. I’m drowning in it.

A large part of who I was is gone. Taken from me by that man. He stole a part of me. And for a while after, I became a shell of a woman. I couldn’t bring myself to continue on for a long time. If it weren’t for Tyma, I don’t know what would’ve happened to me. I spent many days and nights in bed crying. Reliving the nightmare over and over again in my head. Feeling so helpless. Completely powerless to stop him.

Every night, I close my eyes and see his face. I can’t even bear the touch of others, for it brings back the pain he left upon my body. Upon my soul. I weep with no one to pray to. And I feel like it’s my fault. This is what I agreed to. To be used for a man’s pleasure. It’s what I got paid to do. Right?

Therefore, I shouldn’t cry when a man uses me for his own twisted delights. That’s what I try telling myself, and yet I didn’t want to be abused so mercilessly. I never asked to be hurt like that. No one deserves that kind of treatment. And it feels like there is nothing I can do about it. Sure, Madame will now refuse service to that man, but who’s stopping it from happening again with a different man? It’s not like we can go to the guard about this. They’ll just say we’re whores and that’s what we get paid for. Maybe they’re right… I don’t know anymore.

But one thing is for sure, I know I’m not completely broken. Part of me still clings to a purpose. After my tears dried up, I somehow picked myself up and dusted myself off. I have to create a mask that holds a smile to hide the pain inside so I can do what is needed. While my family is in chains, I will not hide away in darkness. I know the abuse they endure is probably far worse than anything I will endure at the hands of a man with coin and a hard cock. I’ll endure what I have to in order to get the coin I need to free them. I don’t care what happens to me anymore. As long as I can free my family and friends, it’ll be worth the pain.

I pull myself together and head back to work. But never again will I ever allow myself to break under a man’s treatment. They can do what they want to me, but they will not get any satisfaction from seeing my tears or hearing my cries. Nor will I ever give another man my heart if there is anything left of it. I’ll please their cocks and get them off, but they will never break me.

And over the weeks, many have tried their best. I’ve truly sacrificed myself to pain, taking on any client with enough coin. Faced their worst. Some have tried to be as rough as they can with me, but they didn’t see a single tear. Some have tried to win my heart, but all they got was my body for the night.

I, however, have come to win their hearts. I have learned to properly play the game. Luring these lustful men into spilling their secrets and making them imagine a future we could have together if they continue to pay to be with me. They’re a bunch of hypocrites. They come back night after night for a love they think I can give them. Of course, most of them have wives of their own and completely disgust me. But I have created one of the best masks of deception. I can wear a smile like the best of them. Make even the wisest and stalwart men open their hearts and their purses to me.

I’ve gotten so skilled at the game; I even have men paying to pleasure me. I’ve learned to wrap them around my finger and convince them to put their balls in my hands so I can squeeze every last copper out of them.

I even have a wealthy captain of the Golden High Elf Trading Company as a regular whenever he’s in town. Captain Gorwin Glynydark. He is a decent-enough looking man with a face like any other. His nose is a little big, but he’s kind, gentle, and will do whatever I tell him to. He literally pays me coin just to worship me and lick my feet. He might be the captain of a ship, spending his time giving orders and commands, but in my presence, he’s completely submissive. I can tell him to do whatever I want, and he’ll do it and like it. He particularly loves to kiss my toes. I’m not much on feet since they’re usually dirty, but I don’t mind having mine worshiped. I once had him spend an entire session giving my feet and the rest of my body a massage. Such a great way to get paid.

Once I find my parents, I will have enough to buy them back. I’ve also taken a step to make sure no one will ever rob me again. I’ve put my gold into a secure bank. I learn from my mistakes, and I won’t ever make them again.

In being broken, I’ve become unbreakable. A force not to be reckoned with. I’ve even put Zaralraden to shame. Stealing most of her clients as well. She now begs to be ridden by the most desperate of men. Revenge is by far a dish best served cold. Even better than revenge is to surpass your rivals in power and importance. I’m now Madame’s best worker. Men fight each other to have just one moment with me, let alone an entire night. They’ll pay their entire fortune just for a kiss. It gives me much pleasure to have so much power over them. To snap my fingers and have a man fall to his knees to pleasure me. Not the other way around. That’s what Zaralraden never had. All she has now are my scraps. She can have her nasty High Father and the rest of the abusive pervs. I’ll take what I want from any man I want.

My name is whispered among both lustful men and jealous women alike. It’s revered. The women I work with wish they could be me, and the men want to have me. But neither will get what they want. No woman will ever be like me, and no man will ever truly have me.

Tonight, like all nights, men pour in to fight over me, trying to outbid each other for a moment alone with me. I leave it to Madame to put up with them as I make my way to my room. The best room in the brothel. It’s definitely the biggest. Used to be Zaralraden’s. Stupid cunt.

If only Orym could see me now. He would be so jealous and full of regret and desire. I hope I do see him again. I would love to rip the bastard’s heart out.

As I wait for whatever lucky man should get the privilege of being on their knees to eat my cunt out tonight, I pour myself an enormous glass of wine and relax by the window. The night is rather calm. Of course, we rarely ever get rain in the Shifting Sands. An occasional sand storm with heavy clouds of thunderous heat and lightning seems to battle in the sky. Those were horrible when we lived in tents. Everyone would bunker down in the Gallows and pray their belongings were still salvageable when it was over. Those bastard wood elves get all the rain. A bunch of uncivilized, tree-worshiping savages. They still cling to the old religion and their woodland goddess. I’ll never understand them.

The door opens and I don’t give the man the satisfaction of my attention. I just continue to look out the window, watching the moons fight for the sky while the man closes the door behind him.

But then a voice stills my beating heart. “You’ve grown quite the reputation, Little Sparrow.”

I spill my wine as I nearly stumble out of my chair when I meet the eyes of a man I hate more than anyone else. A man who is truly the reason I lost everyone I cared about. Phraan. He wears a wicked smile as he stands between me and the door. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this. A really long time.”

Before I can scream, he lunges at me, wrapping his hand around my mouth. He pins me against the bed, pressing his weight on top of me. His ugly face is smeared with a horribly sinister sneer. “I’m going to take my time and really enjoy this. The things I’m going to do to you will not be pleasant for you, but I’ll love every moment of it.’

Not again! I can’t go through this again. No… Especially not with him. I won’t be a victim again. I feel his hand crawling down my body and it makes me want to throw up. Fear mixed with anger boils in my blood as I struggle and fight as hard as I can. I won’t let him hurt me. Never! He tears at my blouse as I struggle to get his hands off of me. Tears well up in the corner of my eyes. No… Not again. Not with him. Please…

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Bothvar Beorcolsson

The day has finally come. I give each of my family a hug. My two little brothers, Bodvar and Thormar. My little sister Svala. My Aunt Sigvor gives me an amulet and tells me it’ll protect me from the magic of the blue-eyed elves. I nod and thank her. My mother nearly smothers me in a bear hug. I almost thought she would never let me go. Tears stream down her eyes as she holds my face in her hands, taking in every last detail before she kisses my forehead and finally lets me go. She does the same to Thorkel, and threatens him to look after me while snuffing the breath out of him with a rib-breaking hug.

My father too gives me a long hug. He looks into my eyes with a nod. “I’m proud of you, son. Now don’t do anything foolish and have your brother’s back. Remember to watch out for the shallows.”

I nod, and this time, his farewell advice isn’t as cryptic as it usually is. I remember the lesson he taught us about the differences between our ships and the elves. Ours are lighter, which makes them sink less into the water.

One last time, I will kiss my wife goodbye and hold my child. I take in those blue eyes of hers and that cute, little nose. Trying to memorize the feel of her lips on mine and the sound of her beautiful voice as she tells me she loves me with tears in her eyes. I try to wipe them away, but the flow never stops. She holds onto me as long as she can before she must take our son and watch me leave with my brother and the rest of the crew. As we finish the final preparations on the ship and set sail, my brother and I take one last time to see our families. Our wives and our children as they stand to watch us go with the rest of them including our mother, Aunt Sigvor, and siblings. Koll, Einar, and Throst’s ships sail beside us as we head south with three other raiding parties.

I did not think it would be this hard to leave, but I feel a part of me has stayed behind with my wife and child. My brother puts his arm on mine as I meet my wife’s eyes for the last time until we return. As the distance between us becomes far too great for the eye to see, we turn our eyes forward and leave our village and our families behind.

As the slaves oar us forward, giving us speed with the sails, we walk up to meet with Skardi and Varin at the stern of the ship near the steering board. Varin shows Skardi the ins and outs of being a Sea Navigator. He shows him that the sun rises from the north, slightly to the east, and sets in the south, slightly to the west during this season. And how the days are much longer in the summer compared to winter, where the night takes over, hiding the sun from sight.

He also reveals how we navigate the sea at night with the stars. There are stories amongst the stars if you know how to read them. The heroes that the gods have seen as worthy rest among the stars along with the monsters of old. The most important one is the three-headed wolf. The top of the wolf’s middle head is a star that points northeast in the summer and shifts to slightly west in the winter.

Father has told me all of this. We have not discovered why this is, but I’m sure the gods have a reason for everything. Although Aldam’s words come back to me about the world being spun around the sun and stars that are just other suns with their own worlds around them. That surely makes more sense now.

Varin also talks about the smell in the air and how the salty sea gives the air the scent. As we get closer to land, the scent changes to a more earthy scent. Also, birds help tell when land is near. Birds can only be seen closer to land. We keep several ravens aboard when we sail out. We set them flying to check how close we are to land. They will return when there is no land, but will not return when land is near. Unless they die, of course.

The day goes on and we leave the land behind as the sun passes over the sky, marking mid-day. The only thing in sight is water as we head west.

I follow my brother around and watch what he does, learning from him how to lead a ship as one day I will have one of my own. The riggers, Ulf Skyrkarsson, Gizor Skasisson, and Gudleif Hialtisson maintain the sails, but for the most part, we keep it steady. Rognvald Homgavtisson is our quartermaster and rations out food and keeps a stock of inventory. Gest Geitirgestsson and Ragnfast Thorgautsson are the gunners of the mounted ballistae, while Hjorvarth Gudvaersson, Ragnar Ogmundsson, Slodi Illugisson, Gnupa Ondottsson, Meldun Karisson, Beiner Atsurrsson, Sveni Skidisson, and Anakol Eindridisson reload, rotate, and realign the ballistae for them.

The rest, including our good friends Solmund and Griotgard Sigvidson and their father, Sigvid Varinsson, help where it is needed but ready themselves to raid. We have slaves work the oars and fight if needed. There’s always a risk that the slaves might turn on us, but being an oarsman allows a slave to earn their freedom by taking a small share of the loot and eventually buying their freedom. That is why most slaves prefer being an oarsman, however hard it is, over a farmhand or personal servant. Although, in most cases, a sex slave is the most comfortable life as those slaves are usually favored unless they are unfortunate enough to have a cruel master. Some often become wives. I still question slavery, but it is not my place. Thorkel will one day be Earl, and these are his burdens to worry about.

Several of our raiders fish for more food, casting nets out to trail behind the ship with the pulley system we have implemented thanks to the Builders. If it weren’t for the Builder Clan, we would’ve been wiped out by the elves. Those crafty bastards come up with some crazy ideas, including putting ballistae on the ship and adding a fishing net line. They designed our three-deck ship so we could carry more loot and potential slaves back without having to sacrifice space for men to raid, storage for weapons and food, and slaves to oar. And these ships are far faster than most pirates and elves thanks to the combination of the sails and oarsmen, along with their design that allows our ships to cut through water like a hot knife through butter.

Our ballistae allows us to attack and cripple other ships, sink them with our hull breaker bolts, or attach ourselves with the chained bolts and use the ballista as a pulley to bring our two ships together so we can board theirs.

We also have blazers on board to allow us to cook and gain warmth without burning our ship down.

I feel on edge and jittery. My stomach feels like a flock of birds keeps migrating from my throat to my bowels and back. I know it’s not sea sickness. I’ve been on a ship plenty of times and never felt like this. Gripping the railing, I look out at the sea and all I can think about is what will happen when we come across a ship. A hand grips my shoulder. “You alright, Bothvar?”

I turn to find Guthhere Sighvatsson, an old, balding man who’s been on the crew long before Thorkel and I were born. I nod. He doesn’t seem satisfied. “Seems like your nerves are getting the better of ya. The first raid is always leaving fishes swimming in even the toughest of men’s stomachs. My suggestion is, when the fighting starts, stop thinking and just act. Leave your thoughts on the ship and follow your instincts and do what you’ve been training your whole life for.”

“How do I stop thinking?” I ask.

“You just do what you feel is right.” He gives me a smile, squeezes my shoulder. “Well, I’ll leave ya to think about it.”

The old man walks away.

We sail for days and days until we reach the elven shore, then we change course to the south and distance ourselves from the shoreline. We spread out from Throst, Einar, and Koll as we search for potential merchant ships to loot while avoiding elven fleets. I’ve lost track of how many days we’ve been out on the sea. I feel like we have spent the first quarter of summer at sea, yet we’ve seen no sign of any other ships. More days pass by and fog sets in as we finally find what we’re looking for. Coming out of the fog is what could only be a merchant ship. Thorkel’s voice carries out. “Ready to raid!”

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Lura Syllana

I have no choice but to take on another customer. I need coin. Not just to free my family, but to survive. I can’t even afford food. I swallow my pride and head to Madame. “May I please have another customer, Madame?”

“Of course. And what preferences are you willing to indulge?” she asks.

“Any as long as the pay is good,” I say without meeting her eyes.

“Are you sure?” she asks, taking my chin in her hand and bringing my eyes to meet hers. I nod. “I’m not sure you know what you’re asking for.”

“I need the coin,” I say with a desperate plea.

“I understand. Just please come to me if things ever get too much. Okay?” she says. I nod silently. “Why don’t you take a long bath and have a glass of wine? Just try to relax. Tonight, I’ll get you one customer to start and we’ll go from there.”

I nod. “Thank you. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

She wraps her arms around me and holds me for a few moments. “Now go soak in hot water. It usually calms the nerves.”

I nod and do as I’m told. Heating up water in the tub and taking a few long moments to soak in it. What have I gotten myself into? How could things come to this? Was there ever a possibility of a different path? I suppose I could’ve accepted that priest’s offer oh so long ago. It feels like an eternity ago since I was on top of that bell tower and she caught me up there weeping. She was kind, and looking back I wish I had taken her offer. I had been stupid and hasty.

Yet I feel Madame has also been very kind to me. Even though the situation is, for a lack of a better term, fucked; I truly feel like she does what she thinks is best. It’s hard to know what is truly good when you are always put in bad situations. Women shouldn’t have to sell their bodies for a man’s pleasure. But if I don’t work here, who would accept a street rat like me aside from a church I don’t believe in? My father always taught me to be skeptical of religion. To always question everything and find everyone’s true motivations and intentions. And usually, a person’s motives rarely align with the words coming out of their mouth. The best way to judge a person’s character is to watch and observe their actions. So far, Madame has been kind to me and helped me in the way she thinks is best.

Orym told me he loved me; he said he wanted to be here, yet he is not here. I haven’t seen him in so long. My heart is truly broken. I want to crawl into a hole and die there. How could I be so stupid as to think a man as handsome as Orym could ever want anything to do with a street rat like me? Tyma was right. People who come off as good, kind, and pure are the cruelest of them all. Even so, I’m the fool. Deep down, I knew it wasn’t to be. I knew he wasn’t the one. He didn’t feel like the one, but he was still so kind and gentle. He fooled me with such heartwarming words and a warm touch that I was willing to give my heart to him. I’m so stupid.

—

After the hot bath and two cups of hot, spiced wine, I feel a little more at ease. My stomach doesn’t feel as if it were digesting rotting fruit any longer. I have to take another glass of wine to down the foul-tasting tonic.

Madame has me wait in a room for my new customer. My mind wonders about what kind of things this man wants from me. I don’t think I’ll be so lucky to have another man as gentle as Orym. Part of me doesn’t want that anyway so my heart doesn’t grow attached. I’m not sure if I want to enjoy this anymore. My heart is still broken from all the pain I’ve been through. The guilt of my family’s enslavement because of my actions. The feeling of being abandoned by Orym and how stupid I was to fall in love with him. I just don’t want to be a fool any longer.

When the door finally opens, my heart leaps into my chest. A tall, muscle-bound man walks in, and I can tell he’s a ship captain for the Golden High Elven Trading Company. His face is that of a stone wall with burning red hair and eyes that seem to burn with a blue flame full of hate. There’s a scar across his mouth, and one of his long pointy ears has the tip cut off.

I lower my head as he walks around the room, inspecting it. Then I see him start to take his clothes off. He doesn’t seem to be the talkative type. But what happened next, I did not expect.

Everything seems to happen all at once, and I’ve never felt so helpless in my entire life. Especially now, laying bare on the floor, shivering, and covered in sweat. Tears bleed down from my eyes. His hands paint a map of the hurt he left upon my body. I can’t fight, I can’t say no, I just feel frozen by fear. He rips the hope from my heart. Strips me of myself.

I can feel his hands around my neck… That hateful stare burning down upon me. The unrelenting assault upon my body never seems to end. He didn’t even give me the courtesy of the comfort of a bed, instead he has me pinned against the cold, hard floor. The rough wood against my face is something I know I will never forget. I’m still bleeding where he tore me apart. I feel so cold. He takes the warmth from me and leaves me with only this chilling, frozen fear and despair. I feel my heart being ripped open and wrung out. I cling to the floor, my nails digging into the wood as my soul is torn with each of his savage assaults.

My mind swirls in and out of the blackness, clinging to a shred of light. My eyes seek mercy and only find the name of this monster. Faidhor Haryrwen, stitched upon his tunic lying in front of me. A name I will never forget.

Time seems to stretch forever while all I feel is pain. I have lost the world around me and my only escape is the icy darkness of my mind. I barely remember him leaving. Just the sound of him putting his clothes on before he walks out, leaving me here shivering on the floor, curled up in tears.

I hurt everywhere, and what little innocence I had left inside me has died in the short few moments in which it took him to break me. He took what little shred of life I had left.

I don’t know how long I laid on the floor, weeping. I no longer have any sense of time. Just pain. It’s all I feel, and each moment is an eternity of suffering.

I hear someone walk in and gasp. “Lura?”

I don’t move as they kneel down. I flinch away as I feel their touch. “Madame!”

The world around me seems to fade as I drown in my pain. I hear their words, but they all sound so empty and hollow. “She’s bleeding. Get a healer. Find the priestess. She’ll help.”

“I’m so sorry… If I had known what that man was going to do to you, I would’ve never let him inside. I don’t tolerate such behavior.” My head is pulled into a lap and a hot towel is pressed against my forehead. I no longer have tears to weep with. Even after they cover me with a blanket, I still lie there shivering. I don’t even remember being lifted into the bed.

I don’t know what hurts worse, the pain that was dealt to my body by that horrible man, or Orym’s empty promises that broke my heart. It’s hard to tell which man is worse. The one who broke my heart, or the one who broke my body.

Then I feel that warmth enters my body once more. That familiar warming joy. It makes the pain fade away and I’m enveloped in the joyous warmth. I want to lose myself in it. Is it him? Orym? Has he finally returned to me? Please, let it be him.

I force my eyes open to such blinding light and see some angel standing above me. Is it really him? Slowly, the warmth fades, taking the light and joy with it, leaving only a blurry outline of a woman with golden hair standing above me. There is something familiar about her, but my mind is too heavy with fog. I can’t think straight. “You poor child. You are safe now. I will take away your pain. Just sleep, poor child. Just sleep.” Her voice is one I have heard before, but I can’t place it. I feel her touch against my cheek and it radiates with warmth, but then it’s gone as I drift off into the darkness.

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Bothvar Beorcolsson

We follow father to the docks where the crew prepares the ship to sail out once the All-Clan Meeting is finished. Shields are hung on the side of the ship; barrels of water and dried food are stored below along with crates of weapons. The sea navigator, Varin Hialtisson, father of Sigvid, father of Griotgard and Solmund and their siblings, checks the health of the ship with his apprentice, Skardi, showing him the ropes of what it means to navigate the sea.

It is said he has a natural affinity for the task and it doesn’t surprise me one bit. Skardi has always been keen with this sort of thing. Although I must admit I am a bit worried. His skin has started turning a dark gray color from those mushrooms he keeps eating. However, I’ve also noticed he can hear things from great distances that no one should be able to hear. Is this because of those mushrooms? Several days ago, Thorkel was telling me how he was going through Thormar’s maps and plans to sail west, and they were actually pretty good. They’ve piqued his own interest. Skardi must’ve been two or three ship lengths away, and Thorkel was hardly whispering when Skardi came up and asked about the plans, mentioning things that Thorkel just said. We were both amazed. I might consider eating the mushrooms myself if it weren’t for that odd way they change your skin color.

Father gathers the crew around him on the top deck. Just as it’ll be my first time out on a raid at sea, Skardi, Solmund, and Skarf Cnutsson will also be out for the first time. It feels good to have friends out at sea.

My father looks at all his men, who are hungry for battle, and smiles. “It’s time for us to raid again.”

The crew holler and cheers. Father continues. “That’s what we do. We are Vikings! We raid and take what is ours!” The crew bangs anything they can to show their approval. “However, when I say we, I mean you all, with my son Thorkel leading this time around. I will not be coming this season.”

Even though most expected this, since Father has been grooming Thorkel to take over ever since the first time he went out to raid, many show their signs of disappointment. “It is about time I passed the torch to my son. I’ll be staying back and doing what Earls are apparently supposed to do. At least that is what my wife has been telling me ever since I’ve taken over as Earl.”

The crew snickers and Beorcol gives them a grin. “As you all have witnessed, he is as capable as a man can be of taking my place. I expect you to all follow him as if he is me. You know him, you’ve raided with him, and you can trust him to lead you. Since Thorkel is your captain now, I suppose I should start the passing of the torch and allow him to address you all.” says our father.

“Did you hear that? Father thinks I’m a capable man.” A roar of laughter erupts from the crew as Thorkel grins widely. Then he clears his throat as he gets a stern look from father. “Right… Well, to the point. We will go out at first light the day after we get back from the All-Clan Meeting, and we will head south. You’ll be joined by Koll Alriksson, Einar Alriksson, and Throst Thorhalldottir as usual. Koll will lead the raid and Throst will be second in command, followed by Einar and myself. The chain of command of the crew will be as it was when father led, with Rognvald as second, Varin as third, and so on. We will avoid any of the Golden Company fleets and focus on easy targets. Single merchants. We won’t take any unnecessary risks. We can always get more gold, but it is hard to get more trustworthy and honorable Vikings such as yourselves. Those have to be built through hardships, as my father has taught us all. And I say with full confidence that you all are among the most honorable and trustworthy I’ve had the honor of raiding with. You’ve all taught me how to be a true Viking, and I am grateful for that. I see you all as brothers and sisters of the North. So, we must keep ourselves alive. And besides, your families are counting on you coming home. We can’t be stupid and throw our lives away for gold or any other treasure.”

The crew nods, and the respect they have for my brother is shown on their faces as plain as the sun in the sky. I hope to one day have that kind of respect. I admire both my father and my brother more than anyone else. They are both men with the utmost honor, and the men follow them because they have proven themselves in battle. I, however, have not. I still haven’t even proven myself in a fight. Sure, I’ve joined many scuffles since the time I stood back and watched my brother and my friends fight with Grom. But this… This is different. I was never worried about dying in a scuffle with a clan mate. But here, life and death lie on a sword stroke. To say I’m nervous would be like calling our ship a row boat. I’m terrified.

I feel sick to my stomach, and the worst part is that father won’t be here. I am thankful that Thorkel will be with me as he always is, aside from the last few summers when he was with my father raiding. I understand why father is not coming. He is needed here, but I just wish he’d come. It would certainly ease the tension in my gut.

As the meeting finishes, Thorkel and I help the crew finish preparations with the ship before we head home to our wives and children. I hold my baby boy, Hrut, in my arms and wish I didn’t have to leave him or my beautiful wife, Arni. She watches us with a worried smile. I can see the sad look in her eyes. She doesn’t want me to leave either. I just hope she and my son will be safe until I return. One good thing about my father staying is I know my wife and child will be safe with him here. Of course, with my mother and Aunt Sigvor here as well, no harm could ever come to them. My aunt may not like violence, but that doesn’t mean she is helpless. Even the fiercest warrior could never stand up to my mother or my aunt.

The thought of it amuses me and puts a smile on my lips, but it quickly fades away when I look down at my son as he sleeps in my arms. He is so peaceful. Sometimes I wish he didn’t have to grow up. Then he would never know war and death. I wish he could remain innocent. But these are hard times, and we need all the hands we can get to face off enemies like the Southern Tyrants and the elves.

—

Thorkel and I stay behind for the meeting of the clans to spend time with our newborns before we set off to raid. They were only gone for two days, but my father insisted that we stay with our babies. There is nothing more important to our clan than family. And with family, what could be more important than taking care of a newborn baby?

Besides, there’s no telling how long we will be gone on my first time out at sea, and I am glad I didn’t leave as I hold my son in my arms. The way he sleeps is so peaceful. He is so tiny. His hand is no longer than my smallest finger. His little feet can’t even hold him up, but I know he will grow to be big and strong. That is the way of all Krakens.

My wife comes back out of the bedroom from her nap and as soon as she sees us, that warm smile of hers fills me with even more joy. She saunters over and plants a kiss on my cheek and one on Hrut’s tiny little forehead. I look up at her and get lost in the sea within her eyes. She is the light of my world. The sun that brings me warmth, and this little baby in my arms is the stars that give me hope on even the darkest nights.

Semet has been a blessing with her help. She spends a lot of time in our room assisting us. Arni has even moved her in with us. She sleeps on a slave bed next to the baby and she is always quick to step in and take care of little Hrut, watching over him to allow Arni and me to get some alone time. We spend much of it napping in each other’s arms. I could hold her within my embrace for the rest of my life. She fits perfectly in my arms. I spend much of the day taking care of her and the child with Semet’s help while making plans with Thorkel. We go over the supplies for the hundredth time. For being mostly the laid-back one, Thorkel is thorough in his preparations.

While it’s the three of us with baby Hrut, Arni sits down in my lap as I admire her. She looks deep into my eyes. “I want to take the collar off of Semet. I trust her only second to you and Asfrid. She deserves to have it off. She says it makes her feel awful and weak. Right Semet?”

Semet nods.

“Hasn’t Semet always worn the collar? How does she know it’s the collar that makes her feel weak and sick?” I ask.

Arni takes a deep breath in. “I… I may have been taking her collar off when we’re alone and letting her practice her magic. She can heal with it.”

I look at Arni with my jaw gaping. “You’ve taken her collar off? If people found out, they would panic. No one trusts elves or their magic here Arni. People have lost too many of their loved ones to elves.”

Arni bites her lip. “But… It makes her physically weak and ill. She needs that thing off. It’s not just about the magic, the thing makes her weaker and weaker the longer she wears it. I can’t just let her wither away. She’s my friend.”

I sigh. “You’re right. We can’t let her suffer like that. This is what we’ll do. We’ll make another collar that looks like the one she’s wearing, but it won’t have any magic on it at all. We can just swap them out. No one will know the difference unless someone catches her doing magic. You can keep teaching her, but just don’t do it where anybody is watching.”

She kisses me on the cheek. “Thank you. I just wish she didn’t have to wear one at all. It’s so demeaning and cruel.”

—

I spend part of my day working on making the new, identical collar. I’m not as good as a leatherworker as I am a blacksmith, and I’m not even that good of a blacksmith. My work is shoddy at best. At least that’s what the old dwarf Aldam always said. Eventually, I settle for something that is slightly off in color and a little thinner. I also added a soft padded linen lining to make it more comfortable. No one will see it. Arni isn’t wrong. She shouldn’t have to wear the collar.

Once I finish, we pull Semet aside in our room. I will not lie. For some reason, I am nervous about it all. I know she’s been with us for a long time, but it’s hard to forget that she is an elf and she could easily use that magic against me. Arni’s parents were killed by elves. But reluctantly, I take her collar off and her face flushes with life as she breathes in deeply. That sweet, innocent smile lights up her face, and the spark returns to her deep green eyes that now glow brightly.

Then I put the other collar on. Her face reddens as her eyes fall to the ground, too ashamed to meet mine. I let out a sigh and I feel deeply guilty. “I’m sorry you have to wear this. Just so you know, you will never be a slave in our eyes.”

Those bright green eyes meet mine and there’s a genuine smile. “Thank you, you do not know how much this means to me. The world seems a lot brighter and more alive without that thing on. I feel like I can breathe again. And I’ve always cherished the two of you more than anything. You both have made me feel safe, and you make me feel like I’m worth something.”

I can’t help but smile. “You are worth more than just something. You gave Arngunn a friend when she needed it most, and you’ve stayed by her side ever since. For that, I owe you more than I can give. So let this be a start.”

—

As our clan returns from the meeting of the clans, they bring word of a prophecy that has changed everything.

The prophecy said that when the daughter of winter marches south, the north will follow and the daughter of a king will sit upon the throne. Some of the people in our town think it has to do with Thorkel’s daughter, Thora, and what Sigvor said upon the day of our joint wedding. But I don’t think so.

Sigvor said the Daughter of the Sea will be born, and that is far different from that Daughter of Winter. My father and the other clan Earls think it has to do with King Teowulf’s living heir, a daughter. She is said to have hair as white as snow and eyes that shimmer in an icy blue glow which I can confirm, for I have seen them myself. That definitely seems like someone who would be considered this Daughter of Winter, and she is the daughter of a king.

My father thinks this changes everything, and he is glad he is not going to raid because there is much that needs to be done, but he doesn’t believe it will come this soon, so we still plan to raid without him.

We prepare for our departure; I’ve been waiting for this moment my entire life, and yet… part of me doesn’t want to go. Every time I see the woman, I love holding our small baby, I cycle to stay here with them.

After we finish last-minute preparations, I hold my baby boy in my arms and look down upon him with amazement. To think I could help bring something this pure into the world is beyond me. He is perfect, and he gives my life joy.

Arni takes little Hrut from my arms and we join the rest of the family for supper. Bodvar, Svala, and Thormar pester Thorkel with questions about tomorrow’s raid. He obliges them, and it causes my stomach to tie into knots as I consider whether half the stories, he tells are true. Is there truly a ghost ship that sails the sea? That must be a tale he’s telling to scare them. Right?

“Are you ready for tomorrow, my son?” father asks as he puts a hand on my shoulder.

“As read as I will ever be,” I say.

“Good. Remember to listen and learn. Think before you act, but think quickly and act fast. Leave nothing to chance. Soon, your actions will be instinctual based on experience. Watch the backs of your fellow crew and be careful. Act with honor,” he says.

I nod, and he gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Are you afraid?”

“I’ll be honest, I am afraid,” I say. Why did I say that out loud? Vikings are not afraid.

“Good.” I look up at him, confused. “It is smart to be afraid. Only fools are fearless, and usually they do not live all that long. Remember this: those who have courage and bravery are not those without fear, but those who choose to stand and fight in the face of fear. And do not let fear control you, or any emotion for that matter. Emotions will always lead you astray. Set your feelings aside and become a stone in the wind. Embrace the void of emotion through deep breaths. But do not become too rigid and brittle. If you find your way blocked by a boulder, become like water and flow around it. But do not be too shapeless. Hold like a stone and be as impassable as a wall, but do not get stuck in one place. We are Vikings, after all. That is why we sail out at sea.”

“Yes father,” I say. He always has something wise to say, and it usually is filled with riddles. But I feel his meaning in these words is as plain as day. I must be those things he said in order to become a great Viking. “Thank you for your wisdom.”

“Of course, my son. Now eat, but do not get too full or you’ll regret it in the morning. Trust me, I know this from experience. Also, make sure to always have your crew eat first. It shows you will always look out for their best interests. And as I’ve told Thorkel many times, do not order your crew to do something that you yourself would not do,” he says with a wink and a smile. He pats my back before he leans over to mother, and I see his hand go under the table. My mother’s eyes go wide and a wry smile crosses her lips as she gives my father a sidelong look.

I look over at Arni who has our baby, but all I can think about is tomorrow. It makes my stomach clench. I try to force the food down, but it is hard to keep it down with all the seabirds flying around in my stomach. After supper, I head into bed early with my wife and child. She holds him until he falls back asleep. Then she lays him down in his little tiny cradle at our bedside and joins me in my arms. I thought I’d want to have sex with my wife one last time, but instead, I just want to hold her and feel her love as we lay here in the silence. No words need to be said. There are no words that could express our love for each other.

I am going to miss this. I’ll surely miss the way she fits so perfectly in my arms. And how my little Hrut’s tiny fingers wrap around one of my own. And seeing the way my love holds and cherishes our child. The child we made together and she bore. He is a part of us. As if we took a piece of our souls, combined it, and made it into flesh. This little baby has both of us within him, and I imagine he’s the best of us, hopefully without my own flaws. Of course, Arni doesn’t have a single flaw, so there’s nothing to worry about there. I wish I could take them with me, but the sea is no place for a mother and her child. I try to stay awake for as long as possible so I can remember my wife’s beauty while I am out on the sea. I take in her tiny nose and how it fits so perfectly on her beautiful, soft face, especially with those luscious lips. I want to memorize the way they feel against my own. I don’t want to forget the way I feel when her warm hand touches my skin. These will truly be the things I miss the most, and they’re the true treasures in life.

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Lura Syllana

I feel as if I walk upon the clouds. My smile won’t fade and this joy won’t either. I do not know how I came to be so fortunate to experience this love, but I will cherish it.

All day I wait for the moment to come where I can be with Orym. My holy Paladin. The hero of my heart. I can’t help but consider his offer to join the church and be with him, even though we’d have to keep our relationship in the shadows. Even so, it would be worth it. A love in the shadows with this much passion is far better than no love at all.

As my shift begins, I happily skip over to the Brothel. Madame gives me a room and I sit and wait for the handsome man to return to me. I make sure my dress is straight, my hair done up, the room clean, and everything perfect while I wait.

I pace and drink a glass of wine, waiting for my love to come. I know he’ll come. He said he would, and I know he’s a man of his word. He will come.

I look out the window for him and watch the moons chase each other across the sky. Finally, a knock at the door startles me. I quickly make sure everything is perfect, re-straightening my dress and hair while checking the room before I answer the door. Unfortunately, it’s Madame. “I’m sorry, child. I do not think he is coming and I need the room.”

“But he said he’d come. I know he’ll come,” I say in protest.

“Then I will find another room for you when he does show up,” she says. I relent and follow her out. “Why don’t you wait on some tables in the meantime? Don’t forget why you’re working here. Your family should come first. And child…”

 I meet her eyes. “Don’t give your heart to a man who has to pay for it with coin. More often than not, they don’t deserve it.”

I don’t say anything, but I want to. Orym is not like that. He is a kind and an honorable man. I know that in my heart, but I do as she says and wait tables while enduring disgusting remarks and men’s wandering hands. Maybe he wasn’t able to sneak away tonight. Maybe he was sent on a mission. There must be a reasonable explanation for his absence. I’m sure he’ll tell me tomorrow when he arrives.

However, when tomorrow arrives, he does not come with it. I spend all night serving drinks at the cost of my self-worth. Serving these disgusting men who love to degrade and demean women with awful remarks. It can wear down even the hardest of souls.

The next night is the same. No Orym, and my heart cracks with every night we are apart. Surely, he is out on a mission. Surely, he’ll return. I just have to wait, but the days go by. Madame suggests I should take up other customers to earn money, but I’m reluctant to do so. What if I do and he returns? I couldn’t bear his heartbreak if he saw me with another man.

However, that night as I return to the room I share with Tyma, who was kind enough to let me move in with her after she finally moved out of the Brothel, I find the place broken into. All the coin I worked so hard to save was stolen. I felt so broken and devastated. Every last copper I’d earned was gone. All the coin I was saving to free my family was all gone!

I can’t help but break down and cry. Even Tyma’s words can’t make me feel any better. Even worse is the awful feeling in my gut telling me that perhaps WRYM didn’t love me. Perhaps he just said those things to take my virginity. Maybe he’ll never return; he’ll just move on to another brothel and use another whore as dumb as me for believing his lies. I bury my face into my pillow and scream. I hate this world.

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Bothvar Beorcolsson

As winter ends, my brother’s and my own child are born only a few days apart. He had a daughter and me, a son.

Holding my son for the first time, it felt like everything was leading up to this point in my life. His eyes are a deep blue, just like that of Arni’s. We decided to name him Hrut after Arni’s father. My father approves.

My brother and Asfrid named their daughter Thora, and she too has the same deep blue eyes as the sea. Asfrid was torn between the names Freyja, which also means Frida, the goddess she worships, and Thora. But ultimately, they chose Thora for a reason I wasn’t clear about. I believe it’s because of Thorkel’s obsession with Thunar, the name of his favorite god. The god also goes by a different name… Thor. I can’t help but think about what Sigvor said upon our wedding day as I look at her. What did she mean?

My father wants me to join him and Thorkel in the Captain’s meeting along with the crew meeting before they all leave for the All-Clan Meeting. Near the docks is a building with a long table within it. We follow farther inside as he takes his position at the end of the table while the nineteen captains file in and take their spots with their most trusted behind them.

After everyone is here, my father takes his seat and everyone else sits down after him. My brother takes a seat to his left while I stay standing behind Thorkel with Rognvald, our ship’s quartermaster and second in command. Since I’m not a captain myself, I have to remain standing. My father begins the meeting. “The meeting of the captains is now in session. Let us discuss this raiding season.”

They all give their agreement. My father nods. “Shall we continue our raids on the merchant ships moving to and from Chillshore, or does anyone have any other suggestions?”

“The elves are getting more protective of their merchant ships. The normal routes are becoming more dangerous, especially with the small numbers we raid in,” Koll says as he sits to the right of my father, a seat of the utmost respect.

“And what do you suppose we do about that?” Thrain Haklangsson asks with none other than Gorm standing behind him with a sneer. His eyes seem to fixate on Thorkel and me.

“We either need to raid in larger numbers which will decrease the profits we make individually, or find other routes,” Koll says. Another uproar rumbles through the captains.

“Where in the name of the gods would we sail?” Thrain Haklangsson asks. He is a man of pure greed. His face is covered in tattoos of his journeys and his hair is done in the traditional Viking way, with the sides shaved and the top in a long braid. He has a long goatee with a mustache. “There are no more profitable routes.”

“May I make a suggestion?” Thorkel asks and all eyes fall upon him.

“Earl Beorcol, I mean no disrespect, but you need to keep a muzzle on your son. This is a discussion between Captains,” Thrain spits out.

“Well, seeing how I will be giving the captain’s seat over to Thorkel this raiding season, I see no problem with him interjecting. He is a captain as of now. Now, Captain Thorkel, what is your suggestion?”

Thrain has murder in his eyes as he glares at Thorkel, but my brother gives him no more attention than he would give a bug beneath his feet. “Why do we not head west beyond the forest of the elves, and then south to the islands where Pirates sail? I hear there are shipping routes to many lands. I am sure there is more treasure to be plundered there.”

Father smiles as he looks out at his men. “That is a good suggestion, Captain. Does anyone have anything to say?”

“That is absurd. We will find ourselves surrounded by enemies in seas we know nothing about,” Thrain says. Spit flies out as he speaks. “I say we bring an army down and raid the Southerner’s main port of Riverhall.”

“Not all pirates are enemies. I’ve met an elven woman pirate with fiery red hair named Azariah who flew a red dragon flag. She was an honorable pirate and gave aid,” Father says.

“You want to attack one of their more fortified positions? We might as well take Chillshore back while we’re at it,” Koll says, slapping the table. My aunt, Ingithora, my mother’s youngest sister, stands behind him and puts her hand on his shoulder. My cousin, Veleif, Koll’s oldest son, stands on his other shoulder.

“At least we know what we’re in for. Sailing west, we might as well sail into the Merrow waters,” Kodran, a close friend of Thrain, says. He has no respect for anyone. His nose is so far up Thrain’s arse that it’s covered in shit. That’s why his beard is so brown. Behind him stands a man named Sigemaer Tjorvisson, a man who is not so bad, but will never prosper under such terrible leadership.

“Riverhall has a far bigger fleet of warships than we do. They would annihilate us unless we ally with the other clans. Even then, the only ones who have any ships are the Valkyrie, the Builders, and the Ice Tribe. But the Builders aren’t warriors. The Eagle Clan will never agree to go to war. Do you intend to ask the Wolf Clan for aid? That will certainly go over well,” Throst says. He supports and is a friend of my father. He’s a man of few words, but when he speaks, he speaks sense. His long, bright red hair is always done in a braid and he keeps his beard braided as well.

“I would sooner befriend a Merrow than a scum of the Wolf Clan,” Kodran says.

“We should just raid the Wolves. They deserve death,” Thrain says.

Sadly, many people in our town believe this, and I once was one of them. But since the wedding, I’ve been questioning my own hate of the Wolves. Baldric and Siv don’t seem all that different from us. They are two I can respect. However, Vidkunn and Bjarni seem quick to anger and know how to get under my father’s skin. Of course, he also lights a fire under their arses, so it goes both ways.

“If you attack them unprovoked, you’d give the other clans a reason to fight us out of fear we’d attack them too. Besides, we do not have enough men to fight them in their own woods. Their wolves alone would pick us apart. Even if we sail into the lake through the river, we’d be hard pressed to get past their defenses without losing many of our own,” Beorcol says with a bit of fire in his eyes. “Too many of our people have died fighting the Wolves. Besides, we have enough enemies outside of the North. We do not need to open old wounds and reburn bridges that were weakly rebuilt. Trust me, I have more reason than any to want the Wolves dead, but it is not worth the lives of our people. And provoking the Southerners might invoke their wrath, or did you forget what happened the last time we went to war with the south?”

That shut them up. At least on attacking either the Wolf Clan or the Southern ports. It surprises me my father would be against the war since it seems like it’s all he’s talked about ever since the last war with the south.

“I still think we shouldn’t risk going out west,” Thrain mutters.

“That is because you are a coward,” Einar Alriksson, my uncle Koll’s brother, says. He’s always been blunt with words and lets his thoughts be clear. I respect him for that, but it can get him into a lot of heat with others. Behind him stands his oldest son, Vog, and a woman named Brynhild Svartkollrdottir, the virgin woman who gave birth to a fatherless son. She is a true beauty and a warrior at that. I remember when Thorkel convinced the orphan boy Gudrod, my great uncle’s ward, to sneak into her tent and try to snag her undergarments… That did not work out so well. Her fatherless son, Thorvir, tossed him out on his arse. Thorvir Stormborn – which is what they call him since Brynhild gave birth to him on Einar’s ship in the middle of a storm only days after she found out she was even pregnant – is a fighter, to say the least. A bit of a temper, but he can rumble with the best of them. That is why I am surprised he is such a good friend to Thormar. Thormar may get into tussles with Bodvar when he’s pushed too far, but he generally avoids conflict.

“Let’s put it to a vote. Bring out the sticks,” father says. A slave brings out two cups of short sticks and another empty cup, placing them on a table to the side. The sticks in one cup are painted blue and the ones in the other are painted red. “Red is to go west and blue is to continue to raid the same shipping routes to Chillshore. Vote now or be silent.”

The captains all get up and get in line to vote, taking a stick from one cup and placing it into the empty one. From what I can see, the voting is close. My father’s loyal supporters, Einar Alriksson, Throst Thorhallson, and Koll Alricksson along with Thorkel, all vote to go west while all of Thrain Haklangsson’s friends, Sibbi Hreitharrsson, Kodran Steinmodsson, and Vebrand Haraldsson, vote to continue raiding the ships that head into Chillshore. The vast majority of the captains are mostly neutral and seem to be split down the middle. When the voting stops, the votes are counted out loud.

Unfortunately, raiding the Chillshore route won by one vote. Father’s face remains neutral. “It is determined that we will continue to raid the merchant ships that sail to and from Chillshore. Thrain, you, Sibbi, Kodran, and Vebrand will take your ships north and spread out to catch any ships coming south. Sigeheah, Harald, and Hogni, you will also go north with Thrain. Make sure you all spread out; you can determine the position amongst yourselves. The rest will go south and sail the bay. We’ll travel in three groups of four ships. Thorkel, Koll, Einar, and Throst will be in the group to the west. Bjalki, Stigandi, Arnfinn, and Ufi will sail along the coastline. And Athils, Steinunn, Kiogrim, and Geitirgest will cut the difference in between. Any questions?” They all shake their heads. “Good, let’s prepare to set out so we can leave after we get back from the All-Clan Meeting. Meet with your groups and discuss your plans. The meeting of Captains is adjourned,” father says as the men all file out, talking amongst themselves.

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