Bothvar Beorcolsson
I try to get some sleep, but Thora, Svala, and Thormar make that impossible. I can hardly fall asleep before one of them comes rumbling in. Thormar bursts into my room telling me about some bizarre invention of his that has to do with sea water and how he wants to install it on our ship. I don’t listen. I had to throw a chalice at him to leave me alone.
I barely have enough time to collapse on my bed before Svala comes in.
She came into my room to hide from Thormar because she stole his maps. She’s smiling from ear to ear, pushing me over as she makes enough room to sit down. “Thormar is a total page-turner. He has all these stupid books, and he doesn’t even know how to read. I know it. He just looks at the pictures. I know he does. I know it like I know my ax. And I know my ax really well. I made it. That’s why I’m going to steal every single one of them and hide them all over the house. It may not be as clever as Bodvar’s pranks, but someone’s got to something. Without Bodvar here, it just feels so quiet.”
“Svala, he’s only been gone a day. Not even. I don’t even know. I just want to sleep.”
She sighs and then groans. “Fine. I’ll leave you alone.”
“Thank you. We will talk about it when I get up,” I say. What did she even say again? I don’t know. I just want to get some sleep.
When I finally fall asleep, in comes Thora to inform me it was dawn as if that has any importance to me at all. Then she tried to get me to spar with her. She didn’t even go to sleep, just stayed up the entire night. Crazy kid. I finally get her to go to bed. My head falls to the pillow and my eyelids sink to the bottom of my eyes. Thoughts are heavy. I… I…
“Bothvar? Why aren’t you up yet? You’re my ship’s Skipper, you can’t sleep in,” my father says as he stands at the door.
“Sleep in? I haven’t even got any sleep to begin with.” I try to cover my face with my pillow and fall asleep. Thankfully my father walks off mumbling.
I just need a few more moments. I just want to rest my eyes and sleep…
I plunge face first into the ice-cold sea, breaking right through the ice. The bone-chilling cold freezes deep to the bone as I open my eyes and stumble out of bed. “What the bloody goat shitting, banshee, is going on!”
I let the words out right before my head smacks into the floor. “Bastard, son of a whore!”
“Who the blazes…” I finally look up to see my father standing there with an empty bucket.
“You can’t sleep in when you’re the Skipper. Come on. You’ve got a lot to do today to get ready for your raid tomorrow. Get up.” He walks off. Bloody bastard.
I pull myself up and get dressed. Thankfully, I just had a bath.
I walk out to slaves scrambling everywhere carrying barrels, totes, chests, and setting up food. I push my way through and find my father outside, smelling the air. “What I would give to go out raiding one more time. I might not be forbidden from raiding, but as Earl I have far too many responsibilities and duties here to spend that much time out at sea. Especially with a potential war looming over our heads. Lots of preparations to make. Do me a favor son: come back alive, and bring your younger brother back as well.”
I nod. “Of course, father. I won’t let you down this time.”
He nods. “Well, let’s get to it. Much to do today. You’ll need to double-check the supplies of the ship and get them counted at least three or four times. Double check you have enough water, food, and ammunition. Bolts and now your grease fireballs. That was brilliant, by the way. You fling them burning on an enemy ship and as soon as they try to put it out with water, it blows up in their face. I must give you credit son; you’re reminding me more and more of my younger self every day.”
“I only figured that out after trying to put a grease fire out with water myself. I admit I nearly burnt my beard to cinders.”
My father laughs. “That’s how you learn, my son. And you have learned much, but you still have much to learn. Now, once we finish triple-checking the supply of the ship, we meet with each of the crew and make sure they’re ready. If they have any nervousness, we need to assure them everything will be just fine. On the other hand, if they’re overly excited, we need to calm them down. And under no circumstances do you let them drink. You don’t want anyone with the mug sickness in the morning. And be careful about drinking out at sea. Especially if you ever run out of water. Too much booze makes people dehydrated, and that gets them sick.”
I nod, clinging to the waking world with only a few fingers. “No drink… got it. Is that what you meant with the wine?”
He smirks but continues on. “After we finish talking to the crew, we check on the slaves who’ll join you on your raids. The oarsmen, the ones who do all the grunt work, and a woman or two to relieve tension among the men. Just keep an eye on the men who take their wives with them and the ones who keep them here at home. Some of them will get a little too friendly with a slave girl, and that’s how fights erupt. Some men are too driven by their cocks. They do stupid things like fuck another woman when they think their wife is sleeping. Let me tell ya something, Bothvar. When Audbjorg caught Gudleif on top of that slave, I’m surprised she didn’t cut his cock off. Gizor, Greiland, and Turid had to hold her back. I’m surprised they didn’t all join her. I could tell her siblings wanted to. Turid was on the fence.”
“I’ll make sure no humping whores,” I say as I mindlessly follow. I am going to go to bed earlier tonight and make sure my door is barred, and I’ll even move a couple of chests in front of it. Maybe my glow metal hammer. I need to come up with a better-sounding name for it. It has an identical twin that Shuli wore on her back. It makes me happy to know the hammer is in good hands. Deserving hands. I pray it stays in Longhorn’s line, or I mean, Ukam’s.
I listen as we go over the supplies one more time. I can’t believe Shuli has children. One of them looks just like her. Same blue eyes and white fur. Well, they all have white fur, but few have those blue eyes or that scent. Although, Shuli’s cub smells far different from Shuli herself. Shuli smells like death and shadow stench. They just smell like dirt and a musky cave.
We then meet with each crew member as they work hard to get everything ready. Sigvid and his sons and my friends Solmund and Griotgard along with Skardi all work to double check the ship’s fortitude. “Aye, Bothvar, you missed out on a good time. The Builders had some surprisingly feisty women. Ain’t that right, brother?”
Solmund shrugs. Skardi laughs. “Feisty is one word to describe them. They also had that herb we had that one time.”
Solmund gets defeated by the smile he can’t hold back. “Griotgard certainly got more than he bargained for.”
“Boys, you’ll have plenty of opportunities to tell Bothvar all about your conquests. Now’s time to focus on preparations,” Sigvid says as he nods at my father.
“How’s the ship looking? She sailed pretty fine to Avala Village and back,” father says.
“Oh, she’s a beauty, my friend. Never seen anything like it. That Osvald certainly knows how to make a ship. This thing is big, that’s for sure, but it ain’t lacking in speed. Especially with all those extra sails added. It puts our old ships to shame. Makes ’em look like rowboats,” Sigvid says.
“Yes, she’s a good ship. A fine ship. Even has plenty of space for each man to sleep, and there’s a perch up above that will allow me to see much farther out. It’ll make navigating much easier,” Skardi says.
“And a room just for the Skipper. Lucky bastard, you are Bothvar. Get to sleep in luxury,” Griotgard says, earning a thump on his head by Sigvid.
“He’s more than earned it, boy.”
“I was only joking, father. He’s my best friend after all,” Griotgard says, rubbing his head.
“And now he’s the Skipper and you’ll talk to him as such. Save the friend talk for private. I swear to you boy, if I hear ya talking that way in front of the others I’ll use you as bait for the sharks,” Sigvid says in a gruff raspy voice. His beard collects the spit flying out of his mouth.
I give Griotgard a sympathetic look, but Sigvid is right. I need the men to do as I say and show the same respect, they show my father. As he said, disobedience means death on the battlefield.
“Good work. We’ll leave you to finish it up,” father says as we move on.
We find Rognvald snapping at the brothers Thialfi and Skarf. “Will you two get your heads outta your arses and stop fooling around? If we don’t get everything ready, I’ll toss ya in the drink tomorrow when we’re out in the middle of the sea.”
“Skarf started it!” Thialfi grumbles.
“I did not, ya lying skin of tit milk!” Skarf snaps back.
Gunnstein, their older brother, walks up and whacks both of them upside the head. “Will you two quit it? It’s bad enough when we’re not in a rush to get shit packed. We set sail tomorrow. I swear, if this shit continues on the boat, I’ll tie ya both up in front of it.”
“How’re the counts on the supplies? Do you need more water?” my father asks.
“We could always use more water, and we’ve got plenty of room on this new ship. It’s impressive how much we can stuff in the bottom. Those Builders are something else,” Rognvald says, running his hand through his strange beard. He keeps his chin shaved and the sides come out like a mutton chop.
“Good. I’ll send some barrels over then. How’s the crew doing? Anyone needs some talkin to?” Father asks.
“Oh, they’re all rearing to go. But ya might want to talk to Gudleif and Audbjorg. They’ve been fighting all morning. I’m surprised it hasn’t come to a duel,” he says.
My father drags his hand down his face. “Alright then. Let’s get to it.”
I follow him until we come across the happily married couple. “I told ya, woman. I won’t touch another wench. I swear.”
“That’s what you said last time, and then I caught you with your cock halfway up that slave’s twat. You lucky my siblings got in between us or I’d a cut it off.”
“Mother, father, can you stop arguing?” Turid asks, rolling her eyes. “I’ll keep an eye on father and make sure it doesn’t happen. I promise.”
“I know it won’t. I’ll keep an eye on him myself,” she says, grasping at her sword hilt.
“I see you three are working things out. Will we have any problems out at sea?” father asks.
“Oh, I hope not. The gods know if we do, I’ll be feeding someone their own sausage, and my siblings won’t stop me this time,” Audbjorg says, tossing Gudleif a death glare.
“I won’t do it again, I swear,” the man says, running a hand across his bald head. “I thought she was you. It was an honest mistake.”
“Lies and excuses,” she says, walking off.
My father walks up to Gudleif. “I’m begging you, please keep your dick in your pants. I won’t be there to stop her.”
“I won’t. I swear by the gods, if my dick comes out, it’ll just be to piss unless Audbjorg wants a son.”
“Good man,” father says, patting him on the shoulder. Turid rolls her eyes and walks off. Gudleif follows after her. My father turns to me. “You see the kind of shit you have to deal with, son? You’ll want to keep an eye on him or get someone else to.”
“Yes, father,” I say.
“Good, now we just have a few more things to check on and then we’ll grab some food,” he says as I follow him through town. We find Ulf Styrkarsson with his wife, Torhild, and sister, Ingirid, sharpening their blades.
“Ulf, it is good to see you, my friend, as well as you, Torhild, and you too, Ingirid,” my father says as he walks up to them. “How goes it?”
“Oh, it goes well. We’re ready to set sail,” he says as he takes a good look at his sword and tests the edge.
“Good. Mind keeping an eye on Gudleif for me? I don’t want his wife castrating him just before a raid,” he says.
“I’ll try, but I don’t think it’d be wise to promise success with that endeavor,” Ulf says with a grin.
“And that is why I’ve always considered you a wise man,” father says.
“I’ll make sure the man keeps his dick in his pants,” Ingirid says with a smirk. “If I see him drop his pants, I’ll just stick a sword up his arse.”
“That might be effective, but I don’t want ’em to bleed to death every time he takes a shit,” my father says, earning a laugh from the three of them.
Ingirid only shrugs. “Worth a try.”
“I appreciate your dedication,” father says with a nod. “Anything you three needs?”
“I think we’re all set, just making sure all the blades are sharp,” he says.
Father nods. “Well, we’ve got more to do before we’ll be ready. We’ll leave you to it.”
As we walk off, Thormar comes up. “Father, brother, I would like to show you this device I made.”
“I’m sorry, Thormar, but we’re a tad busy with preparations. Can you show us later?” father asks.
“I suppose, but this will help with the salt water…”
“Not now, son. I promise you, we’ll talk later,” father says as Thormar sighs. He pats him on the shoulder before we move on to the slave quarters. The small house has bunk beds lining the walls, with hardly any room in between. All men. They look up and get into line as father walks in. Some don’t hide their hate for us. A rather tall elf with dull green eyes and long dark hair meets my eyes. He has no love for me.
Father finds one particular slave out of the rest and walks up to him. “Ealhstan, right?”
The man with dark hair nods. “This will be your tenth raid, is it not?”
He nods again. “That means you’ll have earned your freedom. I’ll offer you the same as I offer every slave who becomes a free man. A place on our ships, but not as an oarsman, as a raider. You’ll earn your coin just like every other man. Will you take it?”
The man thinks a bit before nodding. “Yes, lord. I would like the opportunity to earn some coin.”
“Good. Come see me when you get back, and I’ll make sure you get a roof over your head and a ship to work on,” father says before he turns to the rest of them. “That is what you work for. You serve on our ships and you earn your freedom. And then you can earn your gold, or you can leave and go wherever ya like. It just takes a little sacrifice. We’re not cruel or unfair. We just take what we need and give back what is earned.”
With that, he walks out, and I follow. As we leave, he turns to me. “It is important that you give those unfortunate souls something to live for. A little hope goes a long way. Besides, if they can live long enough to earn their freedom, we can easily replace them by that time, and the ones who do become free will also become loyal, as strange as that sounds.”
I nod and follow him back into the hall. It makes sense. As we take a back alley to the hall, we stumble upon some arguing. Somehow, I am not surprised to see one of them is Gorm, but I am surprised to see Koll arguing with him and none other than the Wolf pup amongst them with his cat pet. To be honest, I’d never thought I’d see a Wolf and cat together without fighting.
“Do you want to know why you always get assigned the shitty locations? Because no one trusts you. Enjoy the tundra. I’m sure your crew will get plenty of snow to divide amongst themselves,” Koll says as he steps up between Gadaric and Gorm.
Gorm clenches his fist, but eyes me and father before turning to walk off. I bear into his back with my glare. “What did Gorm want? Trying to leech off you?”
Koll shrugs. “He was trying to pick a fight with a Wolf.”
I growl. “Figures. Always going after those he thinks are weaker than himself.”
“I am not weaker than him. I can take him in a fight,” the Wolf pup says.
Neither of us acknowledge him. Koll puts a hand on my shoulder. “Of course, he’s never willing to fight a true challenge. He’s nothing like you, and that’s why you have my respect. You never back down from a real challenge, even when it might mean certain death. A true Viking, unlike that coward.”
“I am my father’s son. Besides, I can’t let myself stay in the old man’s shadow, no matter how big it is,” I say, even though it’s a lie. I can’t even force myself to smile.
My father puts his hand on my other shoulder. “You’ll make a shadow of your own. Now, Koll. Just the man I was looking for. Let’s get the Skippers together and go over the preparations over a meal. Bring your eldest son as well. He should start being in on these meetings, and tell the others to bring their second in command. Not all the Skippers, just the ones we talked about earlier.”
“Certainly. I’ll get the others. They’re all eager to get out. None of them like leaving later than the others, but we all understand why.”
My father nods. “It had to be done. No one wants to fall out of favor with Teowulf’s line.”
“Right. Well, I’ll meet you in the hall after I get the others,” Koll says as he walks away. My father takes one look at the Wolf pup and walks away.
I follow behind him as we walk to the hall. On our way, we run into Einar talking to his nephew Tandril. The one who faints at the sight of blood, which is pretty pathetic. “Listen, boy. I’m allowing you to come to do all the grunt work. Just stay out of the way and don’t make me regret it. It’ll be your own fault if you get yourself killed. Understand?”
Trandil, a weak and skinny boy about Thormar’s age, nods, wiping his long hair out of his face. Einar’s expression contorts in disgust. He really hates the boy. Even though I think he’s weak and pathetic, I can’t imagine hating a relative. Einar blames the boy for his sister’s death since she died giving birth to him. Even so, I still couldn’t hate one who shares my blood. As much as some of them get on my nerves.
“Einar, my friend. Will you join us in the hall? Koll is getting Throst. I’d like to go over last-minute preparations and go over plans,” father says, getting a nod from Einar. “Bring your son as well. He should be here too. It’s time the sons learn to lead.”
Einar nods. “I’ll go get Vog. Although, I have half a mind to bring Eystein instead. He might not be much of a fighter, but he’s got more brains than Vog. Although Vog is better with a sword. Neither have both. And yet my daughters seem to have what the other two lack.”
“Bring all of them then,” father says, and Einar nods and turns to leave with Trandil heading over to the hall. Most likely to go to Thormar. The two seem to be close friends. Can’t imagine why Thormar would want a friend like Trandil who wouldn’t last in a fight. I can’t imagine him in a battle with blood washing the ground. Wouldn’t last the first charge. Even if he does somehow manage to kill a man, he’d pass out and be trampled on.
We enter the hall, and I can finally sit down. Semet, the green-eyed elven slave Arngunn favored, brings me a plate of food. She’s a beautiful girl with chocolate brown skin the color of bronze. A slender thing, but has a nice rump. I can see why many would want to hump her, but as long as I am here, no one will touch her. That is what Arngunn wanted, and that is what shall be.
The weasel Guthhere brings my father a plate. He was one of the slaves we brought back from the raid Thorkel had died on. He’s a short, stubby man-child slave and I do not trust him. I don’t know why mother picked him to be one of our house slaves, but he is the type to compliment you to your face and spite you when your back is turned. Thankfully, she took those priests as well and keeps them as her and Sigvor’s personal slaves. Something tells me it’s because they can do magic.
“Thormar! You should be here to hear this,” my father shouts. Thormar nearly trips coming out of his room with Trandil behind him.
He puts his shoulder on the other boy. “We’ll talk about this later, my friend.”
I bet they’re talking about Thormar’s plans to sail west. I hope to the gods he doesn’t plan on giving any important role to Tandril, or I’ll have to rethink my investment. Trandil nods and walks off as Thormar joins us. Guthhere is quick to bring him a plate of food with that fake smile. He’s got a face you just want to punch. Thorkel would surely agree.
Guthhere is still not as bad as that other snake, Morcar. He’s another weasel who shoves his nose up other people’s asses, only to stab them in the back. I’ve seen him do it with other slaves, and it took everything in me not to toss the gutless bastard into the drink. If only Bodvar were here. He loved to make the weasel’s life miserable. I, admittedly, enjoyed watching how creative my little brother got at the pranks he’d pull on him.
The others join us. Einar brings Vog, who gives me a curt nod, and Eystein, along with his two daughters, Thorgunna and Gudfrid.
Semet brings a plate of food out to Einar as Guthhere rushes to try to outdo her. My hand clenches into a fist as Vog cops a feel with Semet. Her face shows her horror. “Semet, will you go and make sure I have everything packed? Double check my bags. I don’t want to go out to sea and realize I’m missing something.”
Her face shows a hint of relief. “As you wish, lord.”
She hurries off to my room. Vog looks very disappointed. My father doesn’t look pleased either. I don’t really care. Koll walks in with Aunt Ingithora, Veleif, Svafar, and Saxi. Guthhere rushes to get them all drinks and food. His fake smile is now replaced with visible worry.
I can’t hold my laugh as Vog sticks out a foot and trips him. My father growls his frustration. “For the love of the gods, slave. Don’t be so damn clumsy, and fetch one of the others to help since you’re taking forever.”
“Yes, lord,” Guthhere says as he scurries off.
Throst walks in with his wife and sea navigator, Armod, and his two eldest daughters, Asvor, and Alfdis. Both golden-haired beauties who know how to handle a sword just as well as any man.
Guthhere comes back with none other than Morcar, the other weasel, and the two of them scramble to get everyone drinks and food. “Now that we can talk without the other Skippers, I have to tell you all something. I didn’t just delay you because of the meeting, but for another reason. I have word from Kadal who intercepted a messenger to Chillshore about a ship that is to leave from the south any day and will be carrying the Lord of Chillshore’s son along with his new bride-to-be. You can count on it. They’ll have a treasure trove of gold. I can also imagine it will be a ship well-guarded. I’d like to take the Lordling alive. We can ransom him back to Chillshore or use him to draw them out. Either way, make sure no one from the ship escapes. We can’t have word getting back to Chillshore.”
Koll grins. “Now this will be a much welcome raid. I have been longing for a good score.”
“And you will get it. I do have reason to believe they will have wizards with them. From what I know, they are the type that uses this Arcane Magic. My wife learned a lot from our wizard-warrior visitor Thon and has been making amulets to protect against this Arcane Magic,” father says.
“Yes, I worked with her to help make these wards against the magic. It is strong magic. Able to move things in the air and summon and configure things. There are lots of uses for this magic from what I have learned when we spoke with Thon. He taught us enough. Sigvor, Thorkatla, and I have been hard at work using the knowledge to make amulets to protect as many as we can, but we didn’t have time to make enough. So, we’ll have to use them sparingly. We still don’t know the extent that these will work. And apparently, it’ll only protect against Arcane Magic and nothing else,” Ingithora says.
“What do you mean… Arcane Magic? Is there more than one kind of magic? I thought magic was just magic,” Einar says.
“From what we learned, there are several different kinds of magic. Arcane is the most prevalent among us and the High Elves that reside in the desert to the far south. Their wood elven cousins who live north of them use a different kind of magic. It’s a magic that allows them to talk to the animals and trees. They can grow a tree as fast as you can set a sail. All plants and animals bend to their will, and some can even become animals themselves,” Ingithora says.
“I would not mind having this magic,” Einar says, scratching his beard as he stares off into the distance. Probably imagining all he could do with such power. I can’t help but think of it, too. You’d think since my mother can use magic, then I’d be able to as well.
“So, these things you made will protect us from the High Elven magic then, but not the Wood Elven magic?” Throst asks.
“That is correct. There are more than those two as well. This religion of the Light uses another magic called Divine. It is mostly used for healing.”
“I have seen it at work,” I say out loud as they all stare at me. “On our way back from the raid, one of the priests we captured was injured with a deep gash on his head. So, I allowed one of the others to heal him. It’s a bright warm light, and after the woman was done there was not a scratch left.”
All of them take time to consider what I said. My father scratches his beard. “It would be nice to have some of these healers on our ships.”
Einar laughs. “Good luck with convincing them.”
My father shrugs and nods for Aunt Ingithora to continue. “And there is forbidden magic that even the elves will not practice and forbade it. None speak of it, but Thon mentioned Demonic Magic along with Dark Magic.”
“Very well. Thankfully, most of the Wood Elves we ever come across are collared with the High Elven magic prohibiting collars. Where is this ship coming from?”
“It is actually a Golden Elven trading company ship. He is riding aboard their ships from the river by Riverhall to Chillshore. The lord there has some kind of agreement with the High Elves. They are supplied slaves and shipping for the ore they steal from our mountains,” father says.
“Then we must separate them from our ore and the gold,” Koll says, with my father’s agreement.
“And the slaves,” Einar says.
“Of course, the slaves,” Father agrees.
“How many ships will accompany them?” Koll asks.
“I can assume three or four. They will want to put enough ships on it to dissuade the small pirate raiding parties, but not put too many on it to draw attention,” father says.
“What’s the plan, then?” Einar asks, taking a swig before he rips into a slice of ham. “The plan is simple,” father says with a grin.
Be the first 100 to sign up for the Aratheon Newsletter and a FREE Digital copy of Book 2, Shattered Souls when it is released!
