When we finally head back to camp, the fun can begin. I follow my brother and our friends, Solmund, Griotgard, Skardi, and Vog; even Gili and Tyrkir join us as we ditch the girls and our younger brothers, both of them having their own friends. We sneak into the woods so we can travel around to the Valkyrie tribe without being seen.

Then, we slowly creep into their camp but are stopped dead in our tracks. “What are you boys doing?”

Behind us stands Tonna and her staff. Thorkel pushes everyone aside as he walks up to face her. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing. Looks like you were sneaking around our camp.” She whacks her staff against her hand. “Do I have to show you the same lesson that I showed you a long time ago?”

“And what lesson was that?” my brother asks with a grin.

“Oh, I don’t think you forgot. I think you remember all too well the sting my staff leaves,” she says, smirking back.

“Just relax, Tonna. We just came to see you again. Would you like to join us in some harmless fun?” Thorkel asks.

“I don’t know. Especially if your version of fun includes killing defenseless animals,” she says.

“Not at all. We’re just going to play some pranks on the other tribes, that’s all. I promise. Well, maybe snag some mead. And that herb the Builders always smoke. Maybe even find a drum beat to dance to and get into a few fights,” Thorkel says.

“Okay, that sounds like fun. Where’s your beloved? I’m surprised to see she’s not with you,” Tonna says.

“Who, Asfrid? We ditched her and the other girls back at camp. Besides, she’s not my beloved. Not yet, anyway,” Thorkel says, flashing that smile at Tonna.

“Whatever. And by the way, you weren’t planning on playing a prank on my tribe, were you?” Tonna asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Us? No… Not at all,” my brother says, acting all hurt as he raises up his hands in defense.

Tonna brushes a long string of her brown hair out of her face. “Sure… For some reason, I don’t believe you, but it’s whatever. Now, what do you have in mind for the other clans?”

I must say, Tonna is different. She’s a little taller and her bosom has gotten larger. I don’t remember her having breasts the last time we met. But she has them now. She also wears a tight tunic cut off above the stomach, showing off her rock-hard tummy, and a pair of trousers that cling to her thick legs. It’s hard to pull my eyes away from her butt. It is a nice round shape.

“Hmmm… That’s a good question. I usually don’t plan these things out, I just go with it. We’ll need to scout the campsites out. My main target is definitely the Wolf Clan. They’re a bunch of stiff-necked dogs with sticks up their arses who need a good jostling to loosen them up. I think I’ll skip the Giant Clan. I don’t know if I want them loosened up. The stories I heard about them make my skin shiver. And I just want to get that herb from the Builders. I hear it makes you feel like you can fly.”

“What about the Ice Tribe?” Tonna asks.

“Ehh… It’s a poor fortune to dishonor your host. I don’t want to anger the gods,” Thorkel says.

“Wow. I’m surprised. You’re actually showing wisdom,” Tonna says, getting a laugh out of the boys.

“Hey! I’m not as stupid as I look,” he says, folding his arms against his chest.

“Really? You coulda fooled me,” Tonna says, causing the boys to laugh even harder.

She just gets a dirty look from Thorkel. “Let’s get going. We’ll have to be really sneaky in order for the Wolves to not discover us.”

“Fortunately for you, that’s what I’m good at. I snuck up on you lot, didn’t I?” Tonna says with a grin on her beautiful face.

“You got lucky, that’s all,” Thorkel says as we take off back into the woods and scurry through the outer rim of the campsites until we arrive at the Wolf’s.

We sit on the edge of the woods and watch their camp. It’s hard to make out anything from this distance, and we don’t dare move any further in the light of the evening’s sun.

“What are you doing?” A deep voice cracks behind us. We all turn around to find that Baldric boy leaning against a tree with his sister, Siv, on the other side. I have to say, there’s something familiar about Baldric. I just can’t put my name on it.

“Nothing… Nothing at all. We were just exploring the forest. That’s all,” Thorkel says, standing up abruptly from his crouching position.

“That’s not what it looked like to me,” Siv says as she brushes her deep red hair across her shoulder. “Don’t you agree, brother?”

“I agree, sister. To me, it looked like you were all spying on our campsite,” Baldric says. He’s big for his age. I know he’s not that much older than Thorkel or I, but his arms are as thick as tree trunks, and he’s half a head taller than Thorkel.

“Well, you’re certainly mistaken, but that is okay. I heard Wolves have tiny brains,” Thorkel says.

That only earns a huff from Siv and a single chuckle from Baldric with a rather tense smile. “I’ve heard far worse things about Krakens.”

“Hey, don’t lump me in with that lot. I’m a Valkyrie. We neither have small brains nor do whatever you heard about Krakens,” Tonna says.

“Smooth Tonna,” Thorkel says with a rather flat face. She only shrugs.

“Why don’t you lot go back to the safety of your fathers before something bad happens,” Siv says. I must admit, she is rather beautiful, even though her face seems to be as sharp as a sword that really looks like it wants to cut us.

“Or what? Are you going to make us?” Vog shouts.

“We could,” she says, and just then a large pack of dire wolves comes out from deep within the forest led by a large black one and a large red one.

Suddenly, fear whips through me like the northern winds. Thorkel hesitates before taking a deep breath and a step back. “On second thought, maybe we’ll just move along to the Builders’ campsite. That herb of theirs is sounding really good about now.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” Tonna says, gripping her staff.

“Wise move,” Baldric says as we get up and walk rather briskly out of the forest, quickly making our way to the Builder’s camp.

“Way to go, Thorkel. Maybe a plan would’ve helped, don’t ya think?” Tonna grumbles as we scurry away with our tails tucked between our legs.

“Who would’ve thought the rumor about them and the wolves were true? I surely didn’t believe it,” he says, scratching his head.

“I could’ve told you it was true. I thought you actually had a plan, and you weren’t telling me about it. But that was just foolish,” she says, giving Thorkel a good whack on top of his head.

“Ouch, what in the name of the gods was that for?” Thorkel asks, rubbing his head.

“For nearly getting us killed!” She brings up her staff again and Thorkel puts his hands up to defend himself, but Tonna only smirks as she rests the staff on her shoulders and lets her hands hang over the top.

“I could’ve taken them,” Vog says.

“Yeah… Me too,” Griotgard says.

“Yeah right!” Skardi snickers. “You both would be food for the wolves.”

“You guys have fun with your Builder herbs. I’m going back to my clan,” Tonna says, as she turns her back to us and splits off in the other direction. I can’t help but glance at her behind as she walks away.

“Great… There goes Tonna. I was really hoping she’d dance with me and maybe more,” Thorkel says.

“What about Asfrid? Aren’t you going to wed her?” I ask.

“Maybe, I don’t know. Probably. I doubt she’d let me marry anyone else. But, for now, I want to enjoy being free of marriage. What’s one night?” Thorkel asks.

“I don’t know. I just… It doesn’t feel right to me. I already plan to marry Arngunn, and I don’t want anyone else,” I say.

“Well, that’s you, brother. I like Asfrid, don’t think I don’t. I just… She’ll be the only woman I’ll share a bed with after we wed. Unless she will let another woman join us in marriage, but I highly doubt that. She doesn’t like to share and I just want to experience the fruit of other trees before I chain myself to her,” he says.

“Whatever,” I say with a sigh.

“Promise you won’t tell her,” he says.

“I won’t. I promise. I would never betray you,” I say.

“Why don’t we just get a slave and have turns with her?” Vog asks.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind having a warm cunt to sheath my cock into either,” Griotgard says.

“I don’t know… A slave kinda takes the fun out of it. There’s no chase or… Flirting or… Teasing back and forth. That’s what I like about Tonna. She makes it fun. Besides, she’s really good with a staff. And she can fight. She can fight a lot better than you lot. I wouldn’t mind going at her again. I’m far more prepared than last time,” Thorkel says as he stares off into the distance where Tonna walked off to.

“Yeah, she really embarrassed you last time,” Vog says with a smirk.

“She embarrassed you, too. She embarrassed all of us,” Thorkel says, glaring at the big oaf.

Vog only shrugs. “She is a worthy foe.”

We walk to the Builder’s camp and are immediately welcomed with open arms. Especially by two girls around our age. One with bright red hair and the other with dark raven hair.

“Welcome to our little camp. My name is Stangyth,” the dark raven-haired girl says. “You’re warriors, aren’t you? I’ve always wanted to be a warrior, but my father says it is not our life. He just doesn’t understand.”

“Oh, quit it, Stangyth. Why would you want to do something so barbaric?” the girl with bright red hair asks. “Don’t listen to her. My name is Eormenburh.”

“Well, my name is Thorkel, and these are my friends and family,” my brother says as he introduces us. He has a warm smile for the two beautiful women. They’re a little on the skinny side. Thorkel walks up and puts his arm around the girl with black hair, named Stangyth. “If you want, I can show you a thing or two about handling a sword.”

Her eyes go wide while the redhead named Eormenburh rolls her eyes. Stangyth looks up at my brother. “Really? I would love to learn.”

“Absolutely,” Thorkel says with a wide grin. “Just one thing. I heard you have an herb here that if you smoke it makes you feel as if you are flying. Is that true?”

She nods her head emphatically as her eyes seem to soak my brother in. “Yes! Yes, we have an herb that the Southerners call Tufonder. We call it Dazziweed. It makes you feel wonderful. Let me get some and we can all smoke it together.”

The other girl only sighs as Thorkel follows the raven-haired girl into their camp.

“Oh, don’t worry, he’s harmless,” Griotgard says with a smile as he walks up to the redhead. “I’m Griotgard. I’m his best friend. I can show you how to use a sword too, if you want.”

The woman scowls at him. “I know what your name is. The other boy said it already. And weren’t you listening? I don’t want anything to do with something so barbaric.”

She practically growls in frustration as she walks away, complaining about men. Griotgard scratches his head. “Women are so complicated. I don’t think I’ll ever understand them.”

A moment later, my brother runs back to us alone. “Woah, that was close. I guess her father didn’t like seeing her with me and chased me off with a hammer. Thankfully, I got the herb and a pipe to smoke it out of. Let’s go somewhere and try it out.”

We head back to our tent at our camp and make sure no one’s going to interrupt us. Thorkel has Skardi get a thin stick, wrap the end in a layer of oil-drenched cloth, and catch it on fire. It takes him a moment before he’s back with a little torch. By then, Thorkel has packed some of the herb into the pipe and takes the torch from Skardi before he brings it to the pipe and takes a sharp inhale, drawing the flame through the herb. He immediately breaks out coughing. He hands me the torch and the pipe.

I look at it wearily, but I buck up and take a puff with the flame and end up coughing as well. It makes my lungs hurt. I pass it over to Solmund and it makes its way around. None of them can fight the cough. We pass it around a few times before it goes out.

“Do you guys feel anything?” Thorkel asks.

“I don’t know… What am I supposed to feel?” Griotgard asks as he scratches his neck.

“Like you’re flying, whatever that feels like,” Thorkel says.

“I kinda feel funny,” I say, as it feels like my head is full of air.

“How so?” my brother asks.

“Like my head is without weight,” I say.

“Yeah, I feel that too,” Solmund says.

“I kinda feel a little happy,” Vog says with a straight face as his eyes shift about the room. “I think…”

“I like it, but I like those glowing mushrooms better. They made me feel so connected with the forest,” Skardi says as he sniffs the air. “Like, I could hear and sense everything. Smells were so vibrant and even the colors seemed to pop. I am going to get more of those when we get back home.”

“I kinda like it, actually. Makes me feel light as a feather,” Griotgard says as he runs his hands through his dark black hair.

“Yeah, it’s not bad. Let’s try to get some mead or ale or whatever we can find,” Thorkel says.

“Well, you’re a man now, aren’t you?” Skardi asks. “Solmund, Bothvar, and I are a few cycles away still.”

“I am… I just… You’re right. I’ll go get us some,” he says as he pushes out of the tent.

“You guys ever think that we’re just in… in like a dream?” Solmund asks as he stares at his hand. His hair is kept long, and he’s got facial hair growing in. Mostly scruff. Griotgard keeps his neatly trimmed in a goatee and mustache.

“I’ve considered that,” Skardi says, rubbing his bare chin. “It does seem possible. Maybe it’s Ornulf’s dream and as soon as he wakes up, it’s over.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Solmund says with a smile.

“You guys are crazy,” Vog says. He always kept his hair short and has grown a wild beard.

“I don’t know… I think it could make sense. Wouldn’t be a bad dream,” Gilli says as he pulls on his long brown hair. Even though his sides are shaved, the hair on the top of his head is quite long. His face contorts in concentration as he stares at his own hair. Hair is kinda strange. It doesn’t decay like the rest of the body. I pull my own blonde hair and look at it. Why does it grow? What’s the point of hair?

“It’ll be a better dream once Thorkel gets back with the mead,” Tyrkir says as he sticks out his tongue, trying to touch his nose with it. He’s always let his brown hair hang loose over his face.

I look down at my hands; it feels like they’re bigger for some reason, and everything around my hands seems to vibrate. Is that normal? Is it because of this herb? What was it called again?

“You guys… You guys. I think… I think I’m drowning,” Vog says as he brings his hands to his neck.

“But Vog, you’re not even in water. How can you drown without being in water?” Skardi asks.

“I don’t know. I just… I don’t know,” he says as he claws at his tunic. “I think I drownded.”

Skardi snickers. “That makes no sense.”

“What’s taking Thorkel so long?” Tyrkir asks.

“Should we go out and find him?” Griotgard asks.

“What do you think, Bothvar?” Solmund asks me, but I can’t take my eyes from my hands. There are rivers running through them. 

“Uhhh… I don’t know. Sure,” I say. They all head out, and I finally look up to make out the sun dropping down below the horizon. It looks like it’s falling against the land, creating a ball of fire.

“Are you coming, Bothvar?” Skardi asks.

“Uhhh… Right. Yes. Where are we going, again?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” Skardi says.

“We’re going to find mead,” Tyrkir says.

“I thought we were going to find Thorkel,” Gilli says.

“The entire reason Thorkel went out there was to find mead,” Tyrkir says.

“Oooh… Right. I remember now,” Gilli says.

“For the love of the gods, brother… Get with it,” Tyrkir says.

“You try getting with it. I don’t even know what we’re getting with,” Gilli says, as his hands play with his hair.

“I’m hungry,” Vog says.

I slowly push my way out of the tent but immediately turn and walk back in. There are way too many people out there. Where did they all come from?

A hand grabs my tunic and I’m dragged back outside. Solmund pulls me along behind him. “Come on, we have to go find Thorkel.”

“But… Okay…”

The four of us… Wait, there are five of us. No… Solmund, Griotgard, Skardi, Vog, Gili, and Tyrkir… That’s one, two, three, four, five, six! That’s six of us. No, wait. I forgot to count myself. That’s seven. Wasn’t there one more? Or two more? Where’s Thorkel and… Tonna! “Where’s Tonna?”

“Seriously, Bothvar?” Vog asks.

“Wasn’t she with us?” I ask.

“No,” Vog says.

“Yes, she was,” Skardi says.

“Do you see her with us?” Vog asks.

“That wasn’t the question. He asked if she was with us and she was. Then she left,” Skardi says.

“But she’s not with us now,” Vog says.

“Of course, she’s not with us now,” Skardi says.

“I wouldn’t mind it if she was with us,” Griotgard says with a grin full of shit. “Thorkel was right. She knows how to handle a staff.”

“Should we find her?” I ask.

“No! She left us. Remember?” Vog says.

“Oh… I guess I forgot,” I say.

“There you guys are!” We all turn to see Svala, Asfrid, Arngunn, and Semet walking toward us.

“Oh shit. Thorkel said not to tell her something. I don’t remember what it was,” I say.

“Tell me what?” Asfrid says with a look that could make the dead die again.

“Uhh. I don’t remember what I was not supposed to tell you. Wait. Did I say that out loud?” I ask.

“He said not to tell you about the gift Thorkel got you,” Skardi says.

“He didn’t…” Skardi’s elbow rams hard into my gut. “Ouch! What was that for?”

“Hi, Bothvi!” Arngunn says as she steps in front of me with that beautiful smile. She has such a small, cute nose. And her chin, it is so delicate. Those rosy cheeks seem so soft. I reach up and touch that soft, silky cheek. She clasps the back of my hand with her own tiny hand. Much smaller than mine, and she giggles. “What are you doing?”

“Where is Thorkel?” Asfrid asks, with her hands at her hips and her foot tapping the ground.

“We know nothing!” Griotgard shouts.

“We were actually just looking for Thorkel,” Tyrkir says.

Gods, her skin is so soft. It’s like touching a flower petal.

“You guys are acting funny,” Svala says as she eyes us wearily.

“You’re acting funny!” Vog says.

“Yeah, Svala, stop acting so funny,” Gili says, mimicking Vog.

“Don’t mimic me!” Vog snaps as he punches Gili.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Svala asks as she crosses her arms against her chest. “And Bothvar, stop touching Arni’s face like that. It’s weird.”

“I really like it,” Arni says as she leans into my hand.

“It’s so soft,” I say.

“You’re so weird!” Svala says.

“Yeah, that’s kinda odd. I don’t like it,” Asfrid says as she slaps my hand away.

“Aww,” Arni says with a sigh, sticking out her bottom lip. Semet pulls at her dress and whispers something in her ear, and she nods with a smile.

“Seriously, what is going on with you all?” Svala says.

“Hello,” Thorkel says as he stumbles up with a mug, the contents spilling everywhere. He wraps his arm around Asfrid. She gives him a very cold look. “Howsh, it going…”

“Where have you been? And what is this about you not wanting to tell me something?” she asks.

“Don’t you go… hiccup… don’t tell. I’m a little. A drunk right now. Hiccup.” He has to lean on Asfrid to even stand up straight.

“What the bloody goat turd, Thorkel? You were supposed to bring us all mead!” Tyrkir says with a growl.

“Oooooh. I… hiccup… I knew I forgot something. I’m a little drunk. I think. And that herb we smoked… Wow!” he says before he turns to Asfrid, his face only a finger length away. Then he plants a kiss on her cheek.

Her eyes go wide and her cheeks flush red. Then, suddenly, she bucks him off of her and full-on punches him in the face. He falls over like a tree being chopped down. “I am so mad at you right now! You do not get to kiss me. You ditched us, and now you’re so drunk you can’t even stand up straight. I’m fuming mad. You better have a really nice gift for me or you’re gonna think that punch was a bee sting.”

“What herb?” Svala asks as she looks at us with a cat-like curiosity while Asfrid marches off. Thorkel rolls over on his stomach and throws up everything he drank. Svala winces before she looks at us with determination. “I want some.”

“I don’t think you can handle it, little cuz,” Gilli says, patting her on the head. She reels around and punches him in the stomach. He doubles over on his knees. “Uhh, what was that for?”

“I told you a hundred times not to pat me on the head like that!” she says with a huff. “Now you piss brains better share or I’ll tell mother and she’ll tell your mothers. You know they’ll tan all of your hides. Or better yet, I’ll tell your sisters.”

“Goat shit, she has us. I certainly don’t want to face their wrath. They’re all so scary,” Griotgard says.

“Especially if she tells our mothers,” Gili says as he straightens up, climbing to his feet with his eyes wide as gold coins. “You’d think it’d be nice to have three mothers, but it is not. I’m three times more likely to get caught and then I get punished for it three times over. It’s a nightmare.”

“Then you better share,” Svala says.

“Fine,” I say.

“I think I’m going to check on my sister,” Arni says as she looks at me with those beautiful sea-blue eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t want some?” I ask.

“Yeah, maybe next time,” she says, smiling at me before she leans up and kisses my cheek. Then she skips away with Semet. My hand goes to the spot where she kissed me, and I can’t help but grin. I’m never washing my cheek ever again. I swear I’m going to marry her someday.

Thorkel finally picks himself up off the ground and rips his tunic off, going bare-chested as everyone walks back into the tent. “Hey… Guess what! I almost forgot to tell you all.”

We all shrug. Thorkel grins with half-lidded eyes. “I saw little Thormar smooching on that girl… What was her name…”

“Signy Styrkarsdottir?” Svala asks.

“Yeah! That’s the one.” He giggles.

Svala tilts her head. “What’s so funny? Those two have been getting close for a long time, now. I actually like Signy, although I don’t know what she sees in Thormar…”

Thorkel’s grin widens. “I sicked Bodvar on them. The little shit dumped a bucket of water on them and took off running. I think Thormar’s still chasing after him.”

Laughter erupts from everyone’s lips. Even Svala can’t hold back. “You’re terrible.  Sometimes I think we go too far, but Thormar takes things too seriously.”

Skardi pulls out the herb and packs up some for Svala and hands her the pipe. She looks at him with her eyebrows scrunching together. “And what am I supposed to do with this?”

“You’re supposed to smoke it,” Skardi says, giggling.

“Don’t you think she’s a little young for that?” Gilli asks.

Svala turns on him and raises her fist. Gilli nearly falls over the cot. “That’s what I thought. Besides, I’m not that much younger than Bothvar and Thormar. Bothvar is sixteen, Thormar’s only a cycle younger, and I’m only a cycle younger than him. I’m plenty old enough, and if you say otherwise, you can say it to my fist.”

“Okay! Okay… I’m not your mother. Do what you want,” Gilli says.

“Now how am I supposed to smoke this?” Svala asks.

“With fire, how else do you think you’re supposed to smoke it?” Skardi asks, making us all laugh.

Svala raises her fist and Skardi flinches before rushing out of the tent. “Let me go get you some.”

Thorkel walks in. “I feel a little better.”

“Now are you going to go get the rest of us some mead?” Tyrkir asks.

“I don’t know… I don’t think I want anymore,” Thorkel says, rubbing his face. “My face hurts.”

“I’ll go get some,” Vog says as he walks out.

“Finally, a cousin who is worth something,” Tyrkir mumbles.

“Hey… I heard that,” Thorkel says.

“What about me?” I ask.

“Well, I wasn’t referring to you, Bothvar. Just this bum,” Tyrkir says, pointing his thumb at Thorkel.

“Speaking of Thormar, where is he?” I ask Svala.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” she says as she looks at the herb in the pipe. “Well, that’s not true. I saw him with Tandril, Starolf, Gudrik, Hosvir, Thorvir, and their friends in their tent talking out their asses how they’re going to get themselves a ship and sail west.”

“What a bunch of dunga,” Griotgard says.

“At least Hosvir isn’t following us around,” Solmund says.

“Yeah, true. He’s so annoying,” Griotgard says.

“That’s what little brothers are for,” Thorkel says, messing up my hair.

“Or nephews…” Tyrkir says. “It’s weird having Starolf and Gudrik as our nephews. Especially since they’re not that much younger than us.”

“At least Starolf and Gudrik aren’t as bad as Hunbogi. Sometimes I want to smother him in his sleep,” Gilli says.

“You and me both. Veleif should’ve left him out in the woods when he was born,” Tyrkir says.

“That’s a little… cruel,” Svala says.

“Don’t tell me you don’t secretly wish he’d fall off a cliff,” Gilli asks.

“Well, he is a bit crazy and mean, but… okay, maybe just a little,” Svala says as Skardi comes back in with a small little stick with the end on fire.

“Here, use this,” he says as Vog comes in behind him with a big bucket and some mugs.

“Yes! Thank you!” Tyrkir says, jumping up to his feet from the cot with a smile. “At least one cousin is reliable.”

He takes a mug from Vog and dips it in the bucket and chugs it. Solmund, Griotgard, and Gili follow in.

Svala bursts into a coughing fit as she blows out smoke. Thorkel comes up and takes the pipe from her. “Give me that. Who said you could smoke it? Nevermind. I need a hit.”

He hits it and lets out a sharp cough. “Anyone else?”

Skardi takes it next and smokes it. Once again it starts to make it around. I reluctantly take another puff.

Thorkel puts it out. “I need to fuck someone.”

He storms out. Griotgard and Vog, all chug their mead before they follow him.

“Men! Always thinking with their dicks,” Svala says as she storms out too, leaving Gilli, Tyrkir, Solmund, Skardi, and me.

“Do you guys want to play a game or something?” Skardi asks.

“Ehh… Not really. I think I’m going to go take a piss and find Oddny,” Tyrkir says as he empties his mug and tosses it onto the ground. He rushes out and is gone.

“That’s not a bad idea. Besides, I have two beautiful women waiting for me. I think I’m going to go put sons inside them and have them out before we’re wedded in the fall.”

“Do you think they’ll find any girls?” Solmund asks. I only shrug.

“Let’s go see,” Skardi says. We follow him out and go look for them. After searching the entire camp, we finally hear something behind Vog’s tent. Moaning, groaning, and slapping of flesh. We head over to see the guys all surrounding a slave I recognize. An elven woman who, I think, is Vog’s father’s slave. Thorkel slams into her while Vog tries to get his pecker in her mouth.

Tears run down her eyes, and she doesn’t look as if she is enjoying it. They are not being very nice to her. Not at all. They’re saying some terrible things to her, calling her all these awful names, especially things that have to do with elves.

I don’t like it. It makes me feel sick to my stomach watching. I walk away. Part of me wants to stop it, but I can’t. Thorkel is my brother, and it’s not my slave. But it’s not how I imagined sex would be like. Not at all. When I think about having sex with Arngunn on our wedding night, she’s enjoying it. Happy and blissful. There won’t be tears in her eyes, and I certainly do not want to hurt her.

I can’t understand how anyone would enjoy that. I find my great uncle Alvi walking with Gudrod, Bodvar, and an older woman with two girls of her own around Bodvar and Gudrod’s age. I don’t think I’ve met her before. My uncle and the older lady seem to be getting on well. He even steals flowers out of another woman’s hair when neither is looking and gives them to the woman he is walking with. She appears to like it very much. Bodvar sees it and tries to steal a flower too, but gets caught and shooed off. He settles for a red dandelion weed that sprouted up and hands it to one of the girls.

I decide not to interrupt them and walk away. I wander a bit, searching for answers. I find myself going to the docks to look at the stars but realize I’m not alone. A girl about my age also sits here. She looks up at me with big green eyes and then scoots over, giving me room. Her dark brown, silky hair is done up in a ponytail. I sit down next to her and look out at the stars reflected down upon the water. “I’m Almedha, what’s your name?”

“Bothvar,” I say.

She nods. “So, Bothvar, what brings you out here when everyone is back there?”

“I don’t know, honestly. Just trying to figure things out, and you?”

“I could say the same. What are you trying to figure out?” she asks. She has such a crisp and melodic voice. It sounds like the songbirds in the forest.

“I don’t know how to explain it. I’m not sure I understand,” I admit.

“It takes courage to admit what you don’t know,” she says.

“What are you out here for?” I ask.

“Avoiding my mother. And my responsibilities. It’s not very honoris and I’m getting much delictum.”

“What does that mean? I’ve heard it before,” I say.

“Well, at Forsa Village, we have five core beliefs, Kathikon, which means duty. Duty to ourselves, duty to our purpose, duty to our family, duty to our people, and duty to the world. There’s a lot of duty, to say the least. It is our duty to protect our people and ensure their survival. It’s our duty to provide for our families and keep them safe. It’s our duty to find purpose and to fulfill it, whatever it may be. Our duty to the world is to ensure it is not ruined by others. We are keepers of the land and nature. Our duty to ourselves is to maintain our honor and leave no regrets. Honoris is the second belief. It means what it sounds like, honor. Honor is earned by self-sacrificing acts that are for the better of the clan and the world itself. There is no greater honor than to sacrifice oneself and die in order to save and protect the clan and the world. It is also a great honor to save the life of another clan member. A lesser honor to save the life of an outsider. Killing in battle brings no honor, but it is a duty that is served and must be done for the greater good of the clan.” She takes a moment to look out at the calm sea that reflects the stars above.

“And the other three?” I ask.

“Delictum means shame or guilt. It is acts of cowardice that accrue delictum. Or hurting innocents. Shaming your fellow clan members or family earns you much delictum. Apolutrosis means redemption, which is another of the five pillar beliefs. The only way to achieve Apolutrosis is with officium, which means service. You must serve the clan as best you can. In order to do so, you must be willing to sacrifice your own wants and needs for that of the clan and the world at large. It is all about self-sacrifice. About duty. It’s rather simple, really.”

“Yeah, I can see that now. It makes much more sense,” I say. My brother and our friends accrued much delictum when they hurt that elf slave. They need to get Apolutrosis. “Thanks. I think I found what I was looking for. You’re really wise. I’m glad I met you.”

She smiles. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I could help, and in a way, you have made me understand my own delictum and how I can earn Apolutrosis. I thank you in return.”

I nod and smile as we both get up. She holds out her hand and I shake it. “I hope we meet again, Bothvar.”

“Me too, Almedha,” I say with a smile before we part ways.

As I head back, I hear the screams and follow them to find men whipping and beating two elf slaves, an older man and a younger woman, both with bright blue eyes. “That is what you get, you pointy-eared bastards. Try to escape again and I’ll cut your tongues out, or worse.”

I look away as the poor elven slaves barely cling to consciousness. It’s hard to imagine why they wouldn’t want to escape when they are beaten and treated as such. Cruelty like this wouldn’t make anyone want to stay. But what can I do? They aren’t mine. But it would certainly earn me delictum to do nothing. I walk up to them. “How much for these slaves?”

The men turn to look at me and all laugh. “Boy, go home to your parents. You don’t have the coin for such a purchase, nor could you afford to keep them.”

Another man steps up to the one who spoke. “Gunni, that is Earl Beorcol’s son.”

The man named Gunni, a bald man with a goatee, looks at me carefully. “So, you want to buy them, ehh? I will accept no less than twelve pieces of silver for each.”

I untie the coin purse from my belt and hand them a few gold pieces. “A few gold coins should cover that. I’ll have someone come get them.”

The man bites a gold coin and nods with a turd-eating grin. I walk back to the clan to find the slave named Valindra. I tell her to go get some others and fetch the two slaves I purchased. I told her to tell Sigvor to help them with their wounds and that they are my gifts to her. She nods and carries out my orders.

I head back to the tent and find Thorkel stumbling in at the same time, falling onto the bed. I head inside and sit down on my own cot. “You’ve accrued much delictum Thorkel.”

“What? What are you talking about? Go to bed,” he says as he turns away from me.

“You hurt that elf, girl. That is an act of shame,” I say.

“She’s a slave and an elf. Who cares,” he says.

“I care. It doesn’t sit well with me,” I say.

“She’s an elf. Her people are responsible for killing Asfrid and Arngunn’s parents. They are the enemy. Who cares about them?” he says with a growl. “Now be quiet. I’m going to bed.”

It doesn’t take long before he falls asleep. Is he right? The elves did kill Arni and Asfrid’s parents. Does that make what Thorkel and our friends did okay? No… Almedha didn’t say anything about vengeance or revenge. It was about honor, duty, shame, service, and redemption. But do these core beliefs hold true for slaves? What about elves? Especially since many of our clan members have died at their hands. I don’t know; I need to think on it some more.

 —

The next day on the way back home, the slave Valindra comes to me as I watch the shores drift by. “Lord Bothvar.”

I laugh at the title. “You don’t need to call me that. Bothvar is just fine.”

She nods. “You have my thanks for last night. You reunited my friends and me with a long-lost friend. The old man’s name is Larongar, and he is a close friend of ours.”

I nod. “What about the girl?”

“She, I don’t know, but Larongar was helping her escape. We will take her in and help her.”

“How did you come to be enslaved?” I ask.

“All of us grew up in poverty within our city, Isyelnaes, which resides in the Shifting Sands desert to the south. Most grew up in tents outside the great walls. We had to steal to eat, so we all joined together and became thieves, but we were betrayed by a man as greedy and lustful as they come,” she says, meeting my eyes.

“I see. I’m sorry for your hardships. I cannot blame you for your thievery. I suppose when it comes to hunger, most of us would do the same,” I say.

She nods. “I should go check on them. They should make a full recovery, thanks to Lady Sigvor’s help. She is very kind.”

“Just as long as you don’t cross her,” I say with a laugh. “She along with my mother and their younger sister can be quite spiteful to those who wrong them. Trust me, my siblings and I have spent many a days suffering their punishments.”

She smiles. “Even still, I’m sure your punishments were out of love.”

“Ehh, more out of our own stupidity, but sure,” I say with a smile. She also smiles before she bows and takes her leave. I have to say, she is quite beautiful. There’s something about elven eyes. The way they seem to glow. At least the ones who can do magic.

Looks like Thormar found himself a stray dog at the meeting. He won’t let it out of his sight. Bodvar has taken to calling it Ruffles. Thormar hates that name so Thorkel made sure it stuck.

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A woman with hair as gold as any treasure. Eyes as blue as the sea itself. A smile that challenges the sun. Even the stars in the sky can’t compete with her beauty. She radiates with warmth. Her touch brings joy to my soul. She fills me with life. She is all mine, and I am hers. Holding her in my arms, the world seems to fade away. She’s the goddess I worship. The moon in the night to guide me through the darkness. With her, I am not afraid of anything. Even in the face of the storm, with her by my side, I am the storm. In the great golden hall of my father, I find no greater joy than holding this beautiful woman in my arms. Even when we were young, she was always mine. Even as children, we were always together, in love with each other. Now that she is my wife, my life feels complete. She’s given me children I could not be prouder of.

I love her tender compassion. And her playfulness. Even now, when we are already bound by marriage, we act like mere youngins, sneaking kisses in empty corridors as parties rage on in my father’s hall. Even when we’re caught red-handed, we play it off like a bunch of naive whelps, pretending nothing happened. But as soon as they’re gone, we’re back to attacking each other’s lips. After all this time, we still have this deep, burning passion for each other.

Every time I come home from battle, I can’t hold back from taking this woman into my arms and into our bed. She’s the reason I fight at all, and no other woman can bring me the joy of her heart. I will never be with another woman again. None of them can compare to her.

“Bothvar!” I’m abruptly awoken as water splashes against my face. I shoot up out of bed to see Thorkel, Asfrid, Svala, and Bodvar chuckling.

“To Niflheim with you lot!” I snap at them. But then I see Arni with her arms crossed as she glares at them and I calm down.

“I told you he wouldn’t like it,” she says before her eyes meet mine. “I tried to stop them, Bothvi.”

My siblings chuckle. Thorkel drops the jug on my gut. “Get up, Bothvi. We’re leaving for the All-Clan Meeting today. I can’t wait, it’s always so much fun!” My brother puts emphasis on the nickname Arni gave me in a mocking tone.

Asfrid and my siblings all follow Thorkel out, leaving me with Arni. “I’m sorry they did that to you. And if you want, I’ll stop calling you Bothvi so they don’t make fun of you for it.”

“Don’t apologize, and I hope you never stop calling me Bothvi. I like the way you say it,” I say as I climb out of bed, walk up, and hug her. She hugs me back and I savor the joy it brings me. When we finally pull apart, I meet her eyes. “I had a crazy dream about us.”

Her beautiful smile radiates upon me. “Is that so? What was it about?”

“It was the most magnificent dream ever. We were married, and we snuck off from a party to… Well… Let’s just say it wasn’t to talk.” I grin as I scratch the back of my neck, realizing that maybe I shouldn’t go into the details of what happened. My cheeks burst with heat and hers are as red as those flowers she likes to pick. “It was odd though… We were all grown up, but the hall we were in, which I guess was my father’s… It was far bigger than this hall. It was pure gold and extravagant. Maybe it’s a sign of what is to come and we have to build a bigger hall. I’m not sure.”

“I like it. Not so much the hall, but the thought of us being married and sneaking off. Can we make that happen?” she asks, staring up at me with those deep blue eyes, as sweet as honey. How can I say no to her?

I nod. “It’s a promise that we will be married and have lots of children, just like in my dreams.”

She practically leaps into my arms, burying her face in my chest. “That will be a dream come true.”

—

My brother is finally a man and will set sail with my father. We journey with our people to the meeting of clans. We sail out near the end of spring. Thankfully, the journey to the town of Avala Village is short since they are just to the south of us, past the Valkyrie village of Forsa. Father says they named themselves Valkyrie after the women warriors of the gods who lead the souls of fallen warriors to the halls of the gods.

From what I’ve seen, the women there are brave warriors themselves. Tonna, the daughter of their war chief, once beat up my brother and our friends Vog, Solmund, and Griotgard all at once using a staff of hers. She wasn’t even any older than them. Her mother is even more fierce. Amalasontha is a very intimidating woman.

The Ice Tribe is only a morning’s journey south. We sail down the spring coastline as only lumps of snow and ice remain and arrive at the Village which sits upon the entrance of a river. After we dock our ships, most of the slaves carry our supplies outside the village where we set up camp with the rest of the clans.

It seems like most of the other clans are here. The Wolf Clan came last night and set up camp, same as the Giants of the mountains. Along with the Builders, the Valkyrie arrived before us. The only clans missing are the Eagle Clan and the Bone Eaters. Of course, the Bone Eaters are exiled and not welcome here for their disgusting practice of eating the flesh of others. The Eagles rarely ever leave their village far to the southeast, up in the mountains above the Wolf village of Fenris.

I share a tent with my brother, Thorkel, while Thormar and Bodvar share a tent. Thormar has to chase Bodvar down after he takes his precious maps. Bodvar laughs and calls Thormar a bloody goat turd, mimicking Aldam. The boy always tries to act like people he admires. I saw him pretending to be father, trying to mimic father’s lectures to Thormar when he threw a temper tantrum. Svala helps Bodvar, and they play keep away from Thormar, with even Asfrid joining in. My sister sleeps with my Aunt Sigvor along with Asfrid and Arngunn. Semet is also with them. And of course, my parents get a tent for themselves. Uncle Koll and all three of his wives set up their tent next to my father’s with the other captains of their raiding party, Einar and Throst, with their wives. Koll’s children and grandchildren all pitch their tents next to ours. Same with Einar’s children. Vog nearly gets into a fight trying to pitch his tent right next to ours, but neither Griotgard, Solmund, or Skardi will budge. He settles for pitching his tent on the other side of theirs. Thankfully, Thorkel could calm him down.

His brother, Eystein Einarson, had to share a tent with their little cousin, Trandil. He’s a little younger than Thormar and is rather weak and pathetic. He can’t even stomach the sight of blood without passing out.

Eystein’s my age, but he’s a bit of a hermit. Always has his nose in one of those books. He’s not all that better of a fighter than Trandil. Their sisters Thorgunna and Gudfrid camp next to Aunt Sigvor and the girls.

Our cousin Veleif Kollson and his two wives Halldora and Thorballa Cnutdottir, who are sisters, set up near father and the captains. His daughters, Aldis, Estrid, Asvor, and Bolla, along with Svafar’s daughter Hilde, cram into one big tent next to their aunts’ tents (who are also our cousins). Frida gets her own tent while Greiland shares with Yngvild. Svafar pitches up next to Veleif with his wives, Hallgerd Sigviddottir and Tofa Odinkardottir. Saxi is next to Svafar with his wives Arnbjorg Thorstardottir and Geirlaug Thorhalldottir. Gilli, who is Thorkel’s age, shares a tent with two women who he plans to marry, named Hallberta Thorstardottir and Jofrid Sigviddottir. Jofrid is Hallgerd’s younger sister. Both are Solmund, Griotgard, Hosvir, and Vigdis’ older sisters. Gilli’s tent is across from ours, while the youngest of Koll’s sons, Tyrkir, sets his tent up next to Gilli with a girl named Oddny, who is one of Throst’s daughters. Those two are also planning to marry.

Veleif’s son, Hunbogi, tents with his cousins, Starolf Saxison and Gudrik Svafarson, who are the sons of Veleif’s brothers, Svafar and Saxi and, and sets up next to Thormar and Bodvar. Starolf and Gudrik get along just fine, but neither seem to like Hunbogi for whatever reason. He seems rather cruel. Especially to their slaves.

The slaves all get jammed into two different tents, one for the labor, which is mostly men, and another for the house slaves, mainly women, except for Aunt Sigvor’s. They share a small tent behind hers along with Mother’s favorite slaves. Koll has several vast tents for all his slaves besides the ones that are favored by him and his family. Some even sleep in their tents.

When Thormar finally gets his maps back, Thorkel convinces Bodvar to turn his pranks on that no-good, rotten slave Morcar. The rat who is constantly tattling on other slaves and is an arselicker. He tattled on Thorkel once, and Thorkel has never forgotten about it.

Bodvar shoves a snake he finds down the back of the slave’s tunic. I shiver as a chill goes down my spine at the sight of the snake. Svala and Thorkel nearly die of laughter. And even Asfrid joins in. Arni, on the other hand, doesn’t think it’s funny.

Gudrod finds us and, as usual, follows us around like a lost puppy. He’ll do anything Thorkel or even I say; He practically worships the ground we walk on. Thorkel gets him to sneak into Brynhild Svartkollrdottir’s tent, one of the most beautiful shield maidens in our village, and steal her undergarments.

Her son, Thorvir Stormborn, who is good friends with Thormar, is said to have been born out at sea during a storm. The tale is a strange one. Apparently, Brynhild was still a virgin and suddenly became pregnant while out raiding with Einar Alriksson, my uncle Koll’s brother. They said the entire pregnancy didn’t last longer than a couple of days. She was pregnant, and then gave birth during a particularly nasty storm. Some say it was the gods that got her pregnant. None of the crew confesses to sleeping with her. Everyone collaborates with the story. Anyway, Gudrod gets caught by Thorvir and tossed out. Thorvir has a bit of a temper, but he’s good in a fight. Can’t imagine why he’s friends with Thormar.

As we settled in, we were greeted by Kadal Bothvarsson and Eawyn. Her daughter, Scyra, seems to stand a ways behind her with a sour expression on her face. Both women have particularly strange snow-white hair. Scyra is too young to have her hair already go white. They also share the same color of icy blue eyes. Both seem to glow like that of the elves, but they have a chill to them and they still have the whites of their eyes.

It is said that Eawyn and her daughter can both summon a storm of winter and bring down a rain of ice. They command the cold as if they ruled over it. At least that is what I heard.

My father and mother greet them warmly as my siblings and I hang back. They talk for a while before the Ice Tribe leaders leave.

Aldam Bronzehammer, who plants his tent with ours, is greeted by two other dwarves. One looks like a woman, and the other is shorter by a head. I didn’t know there were women dwarves. He waves Thorkel, Thormar, Svala, Bodvar, and me over to him. “Hey, arsefaces. Meet my siblings, Baggisli, the toad on the left, and Oddim, the one with the big mouth.”

“I see your manners haven’t improved,” the dwarf named Baggisli says. I’m surprised to hear a woman’s voice seeing how she has a beard longer than most of our clan mates.  She has red hair, braided into two tails that rest on her shoulders. She’s a little shorter than Aldam, and not as stout either, but taller than Oddim. She has a rather square face with a stern set of eyes.

“Did you expect anything less?” Oddim asks. He has curly red hair and a fiery red beard with a single braid that goes down to his chest. “Aldam has always had the manners of a goat. He gets it from our father.”

“Hey! Don’t you go off bad mouthing my mentor, you bloody goat arse lickers!” Bodvar shouts as he steps up to the other two dwarfs waving a tiny fist. Everyone erupts in laughter.

After Aldam catches his breath from heaving with laughter, he puts a thick hand on Bodvar’s head, messing up his hair. Then he leans in to whisper, if you can call it that, since his whisper is louder than most people’s normal talk. “Those two get their snobbiness from our mother.”

The three dwarves get into a long-winded argument, and we take the opportunity to slip away. After things settle down, Thormar joins his friends, Starolf Saxison, Gudrik Svafarson, Trandil Sibbesson, Bragi Serksson, Saksi Sekisson, Harvard Grimwaldson, Bjornuulf Ulfsson, and Thorvir Stormborn with his maps. Thormar is obsessed with his maps and always talks about the islands and lands to the west, past the forest of elves.

My father takes Thorkel and me to the village, where we meet in the hall with the other clan leaders as the meeting begins. I don’t really listen because it’s so boring. A lot of bickering between trading goods, especially food.

Most of the bickering is between my father and the Wolf Clan leaders. Bjarni Vikarsson is their Earl. He is an old man who has gained a fat gut, but he still has this sense of hardness to him, as if he has seen many battles. He’s brought his son Vidkunn, who’s a little younger than my father. And his grandsons. One’s name is Baldric, the son of Bjarni’s daughter, Asny, along with Vidkunn’s oldest sons, Thorgrim and Thorhall. He also has two daughters named Asa and Dalla and another son named Gadaric, who is around Svala and Bodvar’s age. Dalla is a little older, Asa is older than Thorhall, and Thorgrim is the oldest. At least that’s what I think.

I heard Baldric and his twin sister, Siv, can talk to wolves. They sleep with them or something. He’s about my brother’s age, if I had to guess, and he seems like an excellent warrior. He has a stone face that gives nothing away.

The Giant Kveldulf, the leader of his clan, is by far the tallest man I’ve ever seen. He is easily the size of two men standing on top of each other and needs to constantly duck down to avoid hitting his head.

Amalasontha and two other women are here for the Valkyrie. Her face is like that of a rock. Unforgiving and unwavering. Her first companion is a little less hard and about the same age. She smiles here and there. The other looks far younger and seems more reserved.

The Builder is an older man who, like Bjarni, also has a gut, but lacks his hardness. He seems to be a very animated man who loves to express himself with his hands. I think his name is Trefor Trehame. The Builders are a weird lot. They do not use the same naming way as we do, which is to use the father’s name with the dottir or son attached to the end. They have some kind of family and tribal clan name, as I understand it.

Beyond that are only Eawyn and Kadal, with Scyra sulking in the background. The meeting goes on forever and ever, with more and more arguments and words being tossed around. Especially by my father and the Wolf Clan.

At one point I was sure it would come to axes. I try to focus, but it’s so boring. My attention often wanders. I also take notice that Scyra doesn’t seem to be all that interested either. She twirls a dagger around her fingers. She catches me staring and pretends to chuck her dagger at me. I don’t even flinch. Then her eyes seem to dig into me, and we get caught up in a staring contest.

She only wins because I hear them mention war, and my attention gets pulled away. However, I find out it’s only the prospects of war against the south and they’re sure it won’t happen this cycle. They always talk about war with the Southerners, but it never comes. When I look back at the girl, she sticks her tongue out at me. I return the gesture. The meeting finally ends, but we have to listen to both Kadal and Eawyn give a long speech before the fun part begins.

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Father lets us pick through his share of the treasure and take what we want. He always lets his crew take their share first then he takes what is left. I find an old shabby case. Upon opening it there is a magnificent hammer. It’s white and gold. I pick it up and warmth radiates from it. It feels so right in my hand. It makes me feel good and full of joy and warmth. I put it back into the case and take it to my room. It reminds me of the hammer in the cave, the crimson one that no one can pick up. Both must be special. I can just imagine wielding such a hammer. A vision of myself with it as lightning rains down from the sky enters my mind.

—

“The shield wall is one of our most important defenses. The men unite into one strong wall with three rows of shields. The first row kneels down, using their shields to defend our feet. The second row moves into the gaps and bring their shields down to the torso while the third row brings their shields up to the head. At any given moment, men can move their shield to thrust a spear through, or several men can move aside so the archers behind can release arrows. Let me ask you, when do we use the shield wall?” father asks as Thorkel, Thormar, and I listen carefully.

“We use it on the battlefield, when we are facing another army,” Thorkel says.

Father shakes his head. “And.”

“To defend against arrows?” I ask.

“That is another reason. Yes, but not the only,” father says.

“By nature, what are we?” father asks, staring into both of us with his stormy blue eyes.

“We are Vikings,” Thorkel says, sticking his chest out.

“You are right. And what do we do?” father asks.

‘We raid,” Thorkel says.

“Once again, you are right,” father says with a nod, making Thorkel’s chest stick out a little farther. “So, if we are raiders, what strategy do we primarily use?”

Thorkel takes time to think upon it, but I blurt out what comes to my mind. “We attack. We are on the offensive in a raid.”

“Exactly. And do you use a shield wall when you are attacking?” Father asks.

“No…” Thorkel says, hesitantly scratching his head.

“Why not?” father asks.

“It wouldn’t be very effective on the offensive. It slows you down and limits your ability to attack,” Thorkel says, nodding.

“Exactly. So why would we use a shield wall?”

“When we are being attacked?” Thorkel asks.

Father nods. “That is precisely why we use it. We use a shield wall to defend, which is rare with our kind, but it happens. When we find our ships being boarded, we use a shield wall to defend against the invaders. When we find ourselves being ambushed, we use a shield wall. When we find arrows raining down on us, we use a shield wall. However, we are not the kind of people to act in defense. We strike first and attack. We are the aggressors; we set the pace for the battle. In order to do that, we choose the battlefield. To win, you must be one step ahead of your enemy. To win war, you must be deceptive. To be deceptive, you do what is unexpected. If you know your enemy expects one thing from you, you do something they would not expect. If the enemy expects you to march to meet them on the open field, you wait in ambush on the road to the battlefield. If the enemy expects you to defend the walls of your city, you open the gates and hide within to ambush them as they enter. Like snaring the hare in a trap, you spring it on your enemy as they enter the grips of the snare.”

“That makes sense,” Thorkel says.

Father smiles. “Does it now? So, if I were to bring four ships upon you as your three ships raid a merchant ship, what would you do?”

Thorkel thinks about it. “We’d attack them one at a time?”

“That might work. What if they were elves and can use magic? Would they not burn your ships with flames? That would make attacking devastating,” he says.

“Then we’d retreat,” Thorkel says.

“For how long? Their ships are faster. Surely, they would catch you, and they have a greater number,” he says.

“I don’t know then. What would you do?” Thorkel asks.

“Well… I’d scatter my fleet in different directions, finding better places to fight. This would divide their fleet as well as they would have to decide on who to pursue and would ultimately decide to divide and pursue each ship. Or they would send all their ships to one of ours. Either way, it gives us a better chance of survival. I’d also use the merchant ship and ram it into the biggest threat they have, immobilizing their ship that way, taking away their advantage. A storm would make it hard to chase, but it also limits our ability to fight, and storms are never easy to weather. Now, one interesting fact is that our ships are smaller and lighter. Do you know what that means?” Father asks, raising an eyebrow.

“That they don’t sink as far into the water?” I suggest.

“Precisely. I’d find shallow waters where our ships can hover over the top and the elves would surely get stuck. South of here, there are waters near the shore with large spiky rocks rising from the ground. This is a perfect place to lure the elven ships as our ships glide right over them and theirs will crash into them. But for the sake of this discussion, let us say you must face the elf’s head on. What would you do then?” father asks.

“I’d board their ship and kill them,” Thorkel says.

Father shakes his head. “You’d die and so would your men. Sure, we have some protection from their magic with these amulets your mother and Sigvor provided us, but we do not have enough to go around. And it only protects us from a direct attack. That means if they have some kind of spell to attack us with the environment around us, these things are useless. Would you still attack?” Father asks.

“Well, no. But what can you do?” Thorkel asks.

“What did I tell you about their ships?” father prompts.

“That they are bigger and sink further into the water?” Thorkel asks.

Father nods. “What do we have on our ships?”

Thorkel and I both think for a second before I hesitantly say my thoughts. “Ballistas?”

“It’s ballistae, not ballistas,” Thorkel says, punching my arm.

Father nods, a smile forming on his face. “Either way, your brother is right. What would you do with them?”

“You’d use the Ballistae to sink their ship, right?” I ask.

“Precisely. With our Ballistae, we have bolts that are made to punch through the hull of a ship. They have a big hammer for a head. You’d fire these into their hauls. As many as you can to sink their ship and retreat.”

“But we are not cowards, father, and what about all the loot we can get from their ship?” Thorkel asks.

“Sometimes, my son, it is better to escape with what you have than risk losing it to the elves for something more. Live to fight another day,” father says, his deep blue eyes locked onto Thorkel. “There might be some honor lost in retreating and running, but at least you have tomorrow, and if you’re fortunate, the days that follow to gain it back. But if you die, you die regardless of your honor. And let me tell you, son, there might be glory in death, but there is no honor in it. Nor does your death provide for your family. What will they do when you are gone?” father asks.

“But… I thought it was the most glorious thing to die in battle,” Thorkel says.

“The only time you should consider sacrificing yourself or your men when escape is still an option is when the reward is big enough to merit the loss, the cost of not doing so outweighs your life if you were to retreat, or lastly, there is no retreat and only death. If your death will save the lives of your men and your family, you do so with honor and glory. To sacrifice your own life to save the lives of all those you care about is the greatest honor and will be rewarded with the most glory. Now, I want you to spend until the sun passes the top and makes its descent studying the sword and shield forms I taught you. You will use practice swords and will spar with each other, using the strikes and combinations you were taught. Your goal is to land a blow on the other. We use practice swords to learn from being struck because in battle, a strike against you means death,” father says as he holds his hands behind his back.

“Yes, father,” we both say as we get up and grab our practice swords and shields. We face each other and engage. Thorkel is faster and more practiced with the forms, strikes, and combinations. Thormar and I spend a lot of time learning from being struck. By the time the sun finally reaches the top of its height in the sky and starts its descent, Thormar and I are covered in welts and bruises, while I only got one strike against my brother.

“And remember, do not lose all that matters for one that doesn’t,” father says with a smirk. What is that supposed to mean? “Now let us break for our midday meal.”

We follow our father into the hall where father’s uncle sits with Gudrod. Gudrod’s eyes light up when he sees us. “Thorkel! Bothvar! Thormar.”

Thorkel sighs under his breath as the boy scrambles to his feet and rushes over to us. He looks so pleased to see us. Like a puppy finding his long-lost brothers. Thorkel only brushes Gudrod aside and grabs a plate of food before sitting next to father. I wrap my arm around him and mess his hair up. He beams up at me with that jolly smile he always wears. I like having him around. He always lightens the mood. Father breaks away and heads to grab food. “Nice to see you, uncle.”

“You as well, my nephew. How goes training with the boys?” Uncle Alvi asks.

“Oh, it goes… They’re learning fast, and that is good,” father says, as he stuffs his face.

“Ahh, it reminds me of when your father and I trained you and your brothers. It feels like yesterday,” Uncle Alvi says.

“You have brothers?” Thormar asks as I grab a plate and sit down next to Gudrod and him.

“Have you been living under a rock?” Thorkel asks as he swats the back of his head. Thormar tries to get him back, but he is too quick.

“Had brothers. My eldest brother, Thorkel, died and my other brother was exiled and stripped of land and title. He is no longer my brother,” father says. I was only a youngling when Borgar betrayed our family. I don’t remember him very well, but I remember the hurt he caused us. Thormar must have only been a baby then.

“Ahh, yes, Borgar gave much shame to our family. I still remember when you two were boys, you used to fight all the time. Thorkel would constantly have to break you both up. Then things would get so bad, that Thorgrim would snap and lose his temper. My brother would always try to swallow down his temper like a mug of mead, and when he swallowed too much of it, it’d come up like vomit and spew everywhere,” uncle Alvi says.

“Yes, father had an explosive temper. He was fine, mostly. At least when we were young. He seemed to have less control over it as he got older,” father says.

“That he did. Anger is like poison you drink, hoping your enemy dies from it,” uncle Alvi says. “I am surprised you haven’t told Thormar about your brothers. They should know their family history. They have the blood of kings within them.”

“Bothvar and I know about Borgar’s betrayal, but I never knew we had the blood of kings in our veins,” Thorkel says.

“Yes, we descend from the first great king, Ragnar himself. It was his son Bjorn who discovered these lands. Bjorn settled in Chillshore, naming it as such for how cold it is there. Bjorn had many sons, but two stayed here, Hogni and Ragnar. However, Hogni and Ragnar started a fight that led to a civil war between them. Ragnar defeated Hogni and exiled him and his followers. Can you guess where they settled?”

“Here?” Thormar asks.

Uncle Alvi nods with a great smile and Thorkel thumps Thormar on the head, calling him a know-it-all under his breath. “You are correct again. Ragnar went on to have a strong line of descendants, leading up to the previous king Teowulf Bothvarsson. King Teowulf was our distant relative. Now, Hogni had two sons of his own, Leidolf and Orni. Orni, I believe, only had a daughter named Alfdis. She had a son and no one quite knows who the father is, but she says his name was Skuli. However, her son’s name was Fenric. Do you know what he was significant for?”

“That name sounds familiar,” Thorkel says, scratching his head.

“Does it have anything to do with Fenris Village and the Wolves?” Thormar asks, earning him another elbow from Thorkel.

“Yes, you are quite right. You see, something happened between Fenris and Eyvald, who was Leidolf’s first son. His second son was Geirolf and I’m not sure what happened to him. Anyway, something happened that caused Fenric to split off and lead some people to Fenris Village. They say he could talk to wolves and that is why they call them the Wolf Clan,” Uncle Alvi says.

“Fenric probably started it,” Thorkel says. “The Wolves are always instigating.”

The elf man with bright blue eyes comes out of my Aunt Sigvor’s room and gets a plate to fill with food for her. My father gives a nod of approval. Uncle Alvi only shrugs. “Perhaps. Who knows… Never judge someone until you have walked a mile in their boots. That way, you’re a mile away with their boots.”

My uncle grins and even the elf man laughs, which makes my uncle’s smile widen. “Anyway, Eyvald had two sons… wait, I mentioned that already. Well, Hallkel also had two sons. Can you guess who they might be?”

Thorkel, Thormar, and I look at each other and shrug. Our great uncle smiles widely and points at himself. “Well, me, of course! And my older brother, Thorgrim. He was normally a jolly merry-go man. Loved to laugh and have fun, but also had a bad temper that got him into many fights. Anyway, I hope you can guess the children of Thorgrim.”

“Well, father was one,” I say with a smile. Father nods.

“Well, obviously,” Thorkel says, punching my arm. “And you mentioned my name and Borgar.”

“That is correct. Thorgrim’s oldest son was Thorkel. A man you got your own name from. Then there was Borgar…”

“We don’t like to talk about Borgar…” Father says in a stern tone. He stares off into the distance.

“Why, what happened?” Thormar asks.

“I said we don’t talk about it,” father says rather roughly.

“It was not an easy time for any of us,” uncle says.

“How come you don’t have any children?” Thormar asks.

Thorkel thumps him again. “Why did you have to ask that, ya dumb arse face?”

Great Uncle Alvi’s face grows suddenly sad. He looks down at the mug in his hand. “I did once… A beautiful wife, a daughter, and a son. Two wonderful children who would’ve both grown to be good people, but they are…”

Uncle looks up at us with a tear in the corner of his eye and smiles. “They’re in the halls of Valholl feasting with their mother, my father, my brother, and Thorkel.”

“I’m sorry, uncle,” I say.

“It is okay. The gods work in mysterious ways. Fortunately, I’ve been blessed with other gifts. Beorcol was one of them, and he has given me some great nephews and a great niece. And fate has put Gudrod in my path and has given me a new purpose. Now I have a second chance to teach the lessons my son and daughter have never learned. Isn’t that right, Gudrod?”

Gudrod smiles. “Yes! Although I didn’t know I was supposed to learn anything. Will you teach it to me again?”

“Aye, ye yeh…” uncle says with a sigh while dragging his hand down his face. “Sometimes the blessings can come with challenges.”

My father and Thorkel laugh while I scratch my head and force a laugh out.

One of the other new slaves goes to grab something from the banquet. Father chucks a knife that lands next to his hand. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

The slave freezes. “I… I… I thought this food…”

“You thought. You shouldn’t do that. That food is only for people who have my permission. Who have earned honor in my eyes and have proved their loyalty. It is for people I like. I do not know you, so, therefore, you eat with the other slaves and people. There is plenty of food in the barn. Now get out of my sight.”

The slave scurries off out of sight.

“Why not let the slave get some food?” I ask.

“Because there is not enough of the good stuff to go around. Besides, I didn’t say he could never have some. I said only those who have earned honor and proved their loyalty and people I like can eat at the banquet. I hope he listened and has taken it to heart. That way, it gives even slaves something to work for. You see, my sons, I am not cruel for forbidding them to eat at the banquet. I am just and fair. Everyone has the opportunity to earn the right to eat at the banquet, but not everyone will earn that right. That slave is new and needs to know how things work.” He pauses a moment to consider his words as he strokes his beard. “I’ll be the first to say that I am not all that keen on slavery, but our society depends on it. Therefore, I have made it so that if slaves work hard, earn honor, prove their loyalty, and gain my trust, even they can gain their freedom and eat at my table. That instills hope within their hearts and makes them work harder, and eventually they become loyal. Never act with malice and cruelty. Fear is only reserved for your enemies, but for those who serve, you treat them all equally and give them all opportunities to rise above their stations. Even the lowliest slave has that right. That is what instills loyalty and earns the hearts of your people. To do that, you must be a fair and just leader, not a ruler that needs an iron fist to command obedience, but someone who leads by example. Someone who provides fairness, justice, opportunity, peace, and prosperity. Slaves may have a momentary life of hardship, work, and some might endure punishment, but they all have the opportunity to earn their freedom.”

“Well said, my nephew,” my uncle says. “You make your father proud. You’re like him in many ways and better in some as well.”

My father’s chest swells with pride.

After we break for lunch, Thorkel and I spot Thormar talking to a girl named Signy Styrkarsdottir. She seems to be rather cozy with Thormar. A grin sprouts on Thorkel’s face as he goes up to them. “Aww look at this, Thormar’s hanging around with a girl. Should we plan a wedding? Thunar knows you won’t get many other options.”

Thorkel can be a bit of a donkey’s arse sometimes. Even I think that was a bit of a punch to the jewels. Thormar’s face burns hot red as he pushes Thorkel, earning him a trip to the ground where he lands flat on his back as Thorkel wraps him in a headlock and rubs his knuckles against the top of his head. “Shouldn’t have done that little brother, you know you can’t beat me in a fight.”

“Get off of me!” Thormar shouts as he kicks and squirms.

“Leave him alone,” Signy says as she tries to push Thorkel off of him. Finally, Thorkel relents and pushes Thormar’s face in the ground as he gets off. Tears stream down Thormar’s cheeks as he gives our older brother a death glare. Signy rushes up to him, placing her hand on his forearm. “Are you okay?”

Thormar rips his arm away and takes off running. “Leave me alone!”

We sneak off out of the city and over to a valley by the river. I turn to Thorkel as we head towards the valley where all the flowers are. “Don’t you think that was a bit too much with Thormar?”

“Oh, come on, Bothvar. He needs a good thrashing. He’s so soft and weak. He needs someone to give him a swift kick in the arse so he’ll work harder to get stronger. The gods know Bodvar doesn’t need one. He’s hardly a toddler and already he’s fighting with the chickens,” he says as he starts to crotch down low once we reach the valley.

The valley itself is covered in wildflowers that are far different than the ones from spring. The fall flowers have more thorns and darker colors. Here we find Asfrid, Arngunn, and the elf girl, Semet, in the middle of the valley.

My brother signals for me to get down as we arrive unnoticed. We sneak through the field low to the ground as the thorns prickle into our hands and trousers down below the knee.

“I wish it were spring,” Arni says as she puts a flower in her hair. “Ouch! The fall flowers are so prickly. And they’re not as pretty as the spring flowers.”

“Oh, stop complaining, Arni. You sound like a toddler begging for a tit,” Asfrid says. I can’t tell what she is doing.

“I do not!” Arni says.

“You always sound like that. Now come on, let’s go,” Asfrid says.

“I just want a few more flowers. I want to make a bouquet,” Arni says.

Asfrid lets out a long sigh. “Hurry up! You’re taking forever.”

“Here, Arni. I’ve got some more,” Semet says. I can hear her shift.

Thorkel moves a little closer, practically crawling on his belly as I try to follow, but I come across a snake and shout out before I can cover my mouth.

“What was that?” Asfrid asks. “Did you hear that?”

“I think so. It sounded like someone shouted,” Arni says.

“Well, obviously!” Asfrid says, standing up. She holds out a large stick. “Who’s out there? We know you’re there.

“I think there are two boys sneaking in the flowers,” Semet says as she stands up and points over at us. “I can hear the flowers say so.”

Thorkel huffs. “Good going, Bothvar. You ruined our surprise ambush.”

He stands up and brushes himself off. I scramble away from the snake as Asfrid whacks him with a stick. “Ouch, what was that for?”

“For sneaking up on us like that!” Asfrid snaps at him as I climb to my feet and pull the thorn out of my hand as it bleeds.

Thorkel punches me in the arm. “We would’ve scared you too if it weren’t for the bull over here. He’s as sneaky as a bear charging through stacks of crates.”

“Hey, I didn’t want to sneak in the first place,” I say.

“And I just found out why, you suck at it,” Thorkel says.

“Hi, Bothvi,” Arngunn says with a smile as she leans closer to me, holding something behind her back.

“Hi, Arni. Whatcha got?” I ask.

Asfrid hits Thorkel with the stick again. “Ouch! Why do you keep hitting me?”

“That was for trying to scare us, you goat-brained, bull-headed, guppy!” Asfrid says.

“It’s a flower, and it’s for you,” Arni says as she holds out a dark red flower full of thorns. She holds it with two fingers. I don’t understand why she’d give me a flower, but I can’t deny that sweet smile of hers and the way it fits so perfectly on her face, just underneath that small, little nose.

“Uhh… Thanks,” I say, forcing on a smile as I carefully reach over, failing to place my fingers where the thorns are not. Somehow, I hold in the curses trying to fight their way out of my mouth. I look around until I find a deep, dark, purple flower and pluck it. Once again, the thorns stab my hand as I hold it out for her. “This is… Uh… For you.”

“Aww, thank you, Bothvi. You’re so sweet,” she says and before I realize it, she has her arms around me in a hug with her face buried in my chest. She smells like the flowers she picks. Or maybe that’s just the flowers themselves. I don’t know. Either way, I like it.

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Eyes that burn with hate. Scales thicker than armor. Sharp fangs that drip with venom. The serpent rises from the sea, reaching the clouds, hungry for blood. The maw opens up into an endless black hole as it plunges to engulf the world. I shoot up from my bed, drenched in sweat. It was only just a dream. Just a dream.

We spend many days doing slave work when we’re not honing our fighting skills and practicing the crafts because of the trouble we got in when mother caught us fighting with Grom. Mother forces us to do the lowest of lowest slave work. Shoveling the shit of our barn animals. This is for the worst slaves to do, not the children of the Earl. It’s humiliating. Especially because Thormar loves to watch and tell us it’s our own fault. Of course, Thorkel takes great pleasure in tossing shit at Thormar. He hit him square in the face, making him run off crying to mother. And that earned us both an ass spanking with a switch. We had to chop and stack the wood while the slaves get to do the easy work.

When the slave boy named Morcar, who’s our age, comes walking by, Thorkel trips him. “Where ya going, weasel? You should be doing this work, not us. Stupid slave.”

“I’m sure your mother will not appreciate you two preventing me from doing a task she sent for me,” Morcar says, as he struggles under Thorkel.

Thorkel grabs a chunk of dirt and smothers it in his face. “Tell our mother anything and you’ll regret it, weasel. Trust me.”

Thorkel gets off of him and kicks him in the rear as he gets up, causing him to trip and fall right into the hay full of horseshit. He quickly scurries off in tears.

“Why do you treat him so?” I ask.

“Because he’s a filthy weasel. I don’t trust him. He’s all honey to our mother but treats the others slaves like rats unless he wants something from them. Keep an eye on him or he’ll stab you in the back. Besides, he told mother on me when I snuck into the kitchens and ate the pudding,” Thorkel says. Thorkel has never taken kindly to tattle tales, and he hates people who are friendly to those who have power over them but arsefaces to others. We call them two faced weasels.

“Hey, guys,” Gudrod says as he skips in through the barn doors.

“Hey, Gudrod, we’re busy. Mother has us doing slave work for fighting with Grom,” Thorkel says. Gudrod is an orphan youngling that lives with great uncle Alvi. He follows us around like a lost pup. He’s a good kid, but a bit annoying at times. But he stokes our egos. He thinks we’re both gods reborn or something. I’ll admit it feels good to have someone who looks up to you.

“Need some help?” he asks.

“Now that you ask, we could use some help,” Thorkel says with a grin. “We have to shovel out all the shit from pens. Want to give us a hand?”

“Sure! I’d love to,” he says as he grabs a spade and gets shoveling. The boy will do anything Thorkel or I ask. He’s so… naive.

“Say, Gudrod, could you do us a huge favor?” Thorkel asks, wrapping his arm around the boy’s shoulder.

“Sure, anything for you two,” Gudrod says.

“Well, you see, we’re supposed to meet up with Asfrid and Arngunn, but we can’t leave until we get all this shit shoveled out. If you could maybe fill in for us, we’d greatly appreciate it.”

“Okay, sure…” he says, his original excitement waning.

“I promise, Gudrod. We’ll make it worth your while. I’ll show you a super-secret, super effective sword form father taught me. You have to keep it a secret because father doesn’t want anyone to know about it,” Thorkel says, causing Gudrod’s eyes to light up.

“Really?” Gudrod asks, practically drooling at the mouth.

“Yes, but don’t tell anyone we had you help us or my mother will be very mad at all three of us,” he says.

“Don’t worry, Thorkel. You can count on me,” he says with a wink.

“I knew I could. You’re the best, Gudrod. And if that weasel Morcar pops his head in here, throw some shit at him, okay?” Thorkel says.

Gudrod claps his fist against his chest as if he was taking an order from our father. “I won’t let you down.”

“That’s why I know I can always count on you, Gudrod,” Thorkel says, earning a smile that is as wide as the boy’s face.

As we sneak out, I can’t help but snicker. “You are terrible, brother.”

“Father always said, always use the resources at your disposal,” he says with a grin.

“What secret sword form are you going to show him? How come father didn’t show me this form? I don’t remember him saying anything about a secret form,” I say.

“Don’t be a fool, Bothvar. I’ll just show him any basic sword form, and he’ll think it’s the most secret form there is,” Thorkel says.

“You are devious,” I say, which earns his famous grin.

Thorkel convinces the others to sneak out again. This time, instead of going up to the mountains, we head over to the river that goes into the bay that is all blocked off from the sea but by a small passageway. We’re not the only clan that has their town on the bay. The Builder Clan and the Valkyrie clan also sit on the bay. The Builders sit on our side of the river and the Valkyrie have their village across the bay on the other side.

Thorkel leads Griotgard, Solmund, Skardi, Asfrid, Arngunn, Vog, and myself as we head around the bay and down the peninsula by the Builder’s town to where the river is at its thinnest point. There, the five of us boys chop down a tree next to the river and it lands clear across to the other side. All of us walk across it, but Arni falls in and I dive in after her. Of course, the water isn’t very deep. I learned that as I eat a mouthful of dirt and sand as I smash into the bottom of the river. I quickly stand up, spit it out and clean my mouth out with water before Arni and I make our way to the other side, soaking wet.

“Bothvar, why would ya dive in like that? That wasn’t very smart,” Vog says with his stupid smile.

“I thought it was valiant. You tried to save me, didn’t you?” Arni says. “Thank you, Bothvi.”

I stick out my chest. “I was just making sure you were okay.”

Vog laughs. “That’s stupid, Bothvi.”

“A hare, let’s get it,” Thorkel yells as he and the other boys dart after it.

“No!” Arni screams after them. “Leave the bunny alone.”

The boys chase it all around while Arni and I chase after them. Arni shouts at them. “Leave it alone. Don’t hurt it.”

Thorkel circles around while the others chase it as it zig-zags and darts here and there. Griotgard leads it right into Thorkel, who dives and gets its hind leg before he grabs it by the ears and holds it up. “Ha, got the little shit.”

“Don’t hurt it. Leave it alone,” Arni says as she runs up to him. “Please!”

“Come on, Thorkel. Just let it go,” I say, even though I shouldn’t. They’re going to think I’m weak, but I can’t stand seeing Arni so worried like this.

“Oh, come on, Bothvar. You’re acting like Thormar. What, are you going to tell mother? She’ll be pissed at all of us for being out here, but she’ll welcome the hare for stew. It’s just a hare,” he says as the poor thing kicks and struggles in his grip.

“Just let it go!” Arni cries.

“Stop being a baby, Arni. You’re always so sensitive,” Asfrid says as she walks up to Thorkel. “It’s just a rabbit. What do you think we eat in our stews half the time? Besides, I thought you wanted to be like Frida. Remember? She’s our favorite goddess. She wouldn’t hesitate to kill the hare.”

“But, it’s so cute,” Arni says.

“We should kill it,” Vog says, drawing a knife.

“Yeah, and maybe our fathers will let us come on their hunts when they get back from raiding. I heard they hunted down a bear last time,” Solmund says.

Vog steps up to the rabbit, making Arni cry. I step up to Vog and Thorkel. “Don’t do it.”

Vog looks down at me with a grin. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Suddenly something swoops in between us and a long wooden staff smacks the knife right out of Vog’s hand, swipes the rabbit from Thorkel, and sweeps all three of us off our feet.

“Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to get you, just these two, but you were in the way,” a girl says as she reaches down at me with her staff. I grab it and she yanks me up.

Thorkel and Vog scramble to their feet as the girl, who is actually quite pretty and appears to be around our own age, spins the staff with one hand and cradles the bunny in the other. She looks ready to fight.

“Why I outta,” Vog says.

Thorkel stops him. “And who might you be? I’m Thorkel, son of Beorcol. You’ve probably heard of me. My father is Earl of the Krakens.”

“I might have heard of you, but nothing good,” the girl says with a straight face as she takes us in. She has dark brown hair with a pretty but sharp face. Her eyes narrow into honed daggers.

“And who the bloody are you?” Asfrid says as she glares at her with her arms crossed.

“My name is Tonna and I’m the daughter of Amalasontha, who is the War Chieftess of the Valkyrie. You’re on our land and you’re poaching our animals. Why shouldn’t I beat the snot out of you all?” The woman twirls her staff to show she might be able to.

Vog laughs. “You got lucky. A girl couldn’t beat me in a fight.”

Vog steps up, cracking his knuckles with a big shit-eating grin on his face. The grin is wiped off with Tonna’s staff as she smacks it across his face with very little effort, sending him falling to the ground like an enormous oak tree. “Are all men this stupid?”

“Hey! I’m not stupid,” Thorkel says, stepping up.

“Let’s not fight!” Arni says as she rushes up. Why is she always doing this?

I rush over to her. Tonna raises her staff to me. “I don’t have any quarrels with you two, but your friends have to go. They’re a bunch of stupid pigs who only think with their stomachs.”

“Come on Thorkel, we can take her if we fight her together,” Griotgard says as he, Solmund, and Skardi go to circle Tonna while Vog climbs to his feet and shakes his head as if he has water in his ears.

“No!” Thorkel yells, stepping up between them. “You all act like Grom. We’re not cowards like him who need five of us to fight one girl. I’ll fight her and none of you will step in.”

She smirks. “Well, at least one of you has honor. Even so, there’s no chance you’ll beat me.”

She sets the bunny down and it darts off.

“Oooh, there goes our prey,” Vog says in a whiny voice.

“That rabbit was never yours. It is on our land and belongs to us,” the girl says as she twirls her staff around before crouching down with it resting across her shoulder, held by her backhand.

“I made things fair for you and yet you fight with a staff while I have nothing but my hands,” Thorkel says.

She sighs and tosses him the staff. “Fine, you can use it. I don’t need it to beat you.”

He huffs. “I’m not going to…”

He doesn’t have a chance to finish his words as she charges. His eyes go wide as he swings wildly at her. She ducks, dips, and dodges the staff before he tries to stab it at her. She snags it in her hands, catching him off balance, and yanks it from him as he stumbles forward. He tries to correct himself, but she takes his legs out from underneath him with the staff before she lifts it over him and brings it down hard towards his head.

Thorkel shouts and turns away, closing his eyes. However, the blow never comes as she holds it only a finger’s length above his head. All of us stand with our mouths agape. Then Vog, Solmund, and Griotgard charge at her. I rush in and burl into Vog as he slams into Griotgard while Tonna trips up Solmund.

“What are you doing?” Thorkel yells at them. “I told you not to interfere.”

“But she beat you and made you look like a fool,” Vog says as he pushes me off him.

“She got lucky, that’s all. I’ve never practiced with a staff. If we were using axes or swords with shields I’d beat her easily,” Thorkel says, dusting himself off.

“Sure,” Tonna says with another smirk.

“What is going on here?” We all jump as women with spears appear out of thin air. I didn’t even see them.

“Nothing, mother. I was just playing with these Kraken children. I was teaching them how to use a staff. They’re not very good at it,” Tonna says as she looks down her nose at us. “Although, I must admit, at least some of them have honoris. That one, who’s named Thorkel, son of Earl Beorcol, has some shred of dignity, even though he is a poor fighter. And that boy and the smaller girl have much more honoris. The rest have much to learn. They show much delictum.”

She pointed at Arni and me. What is she talking about? What are honoris and delictum?

“Most men have much delictum and little honoris. But it is far too difficult to teach them,” the woman who must be Amalasontha, Tonna’s mother, says. “And what were you children of the Kraken clan doing across the river? Don’t you know that this side of the river is our land?”

“We were only playing around, I swear,” Thorkel says, bowing his head.

The woman looks over at Arni and me. “What are your names?”

“He’s my little brother, Bothvar, and that’s Arngunn. She and Asfrid are the daughters of Hrut, my father’s quartermaster. Their mother and father serve on my father’s ship,” Thorkel says.

She narrows her eyes at us. “And those boys? What are their names?”

“That’s Vog, son of Einar, a ship captain. Those two are Griotgard and Solmund, son of Sigvid, son of Varin. And that one is Skardi. He doesn’t have any family that we know of,” Thorkel says.

“I’ll remember your names. Make sure this is the last time you walk upon our land uninvited. I’m sure your father is raiding, so tell your mother. Amalasontha and the Valkyrie don’t take kindly to trespassing even if they are children. I’ll know if you don’t follow through.”

“Yes, your Earlness. Or Chieftessiness? A… your highness?” Thorkel says, stumbling over his words.

“Come, Tonna, let us be off,” the woman says, turning her back to us.

“I’ll be right behind you. Let me say my farewell,” Tonna says. I barely blink before her mother and the other woman warriors are gone in a flash. I could hardly see them move.

“You lot are lucky I decided not to tell mother you were poaching. We don’t take kindly to poachers. They usually end up dead,” she says, once again, sticking her nose up at us. “Even so, I did enjoy meeting you all, especially you, Bothvar, and you, Arngunn. I won’t forget you two. And you are okay, Thorkel, son of Beorcol. You have a little Honoris. The rest of you lot have much delictum and I’m not sure if there’s any amount of Officium you could do to find Apolutrosis.”

“What in the name of the gods are you talking about?” Asfrid asks.

“It’s the Valkyrie way. Our five core values. Kathíkon, Honoris, Officium, Delictum, and Apolutrosis. You should learn it. Even then you’d still lack honoris,” she says. Asfrid sticks her tongue out at Tonna. “See? That’s my point.”

Then, just like that, she’s gone. Asfrid growls. “What a stuck-up, turd-eating cow.”

“I don’t know. She seems alright,” Thorkel says, scratching his head. “Do you really think that Chief lady, Amalasomanoma or whatever, will really know if we don’t tell mother about this?”

“It’s Amalasontha,” I say.

“Yeah, whatever,” Thorkel says as pushes my head away. “Come on, let’s get back before it gets too late.”

The entire way back, Asfrid complains about Tonna, calling her every foul name I’ve ever heard. Once we get back, Thorkel and I both decide to tell mother the truth, fearing what the Valkyrie War Chief might do if she really would know if we didn’t tell. Of course, this leads us to getting our ears boxed, our bottoms switched, and slave work for nearly the rest of the summer. Obviously, mother told us it would’ve been far worse if we didn’t confess.

When father finally comes home with the fleet, we all crowd the harbor and welcome them. They bring many treasures and slaves they’ve taken from ships they’ve raided. Father’s hard face softens into a smile as he sees us all. Svala runs right for him and leaps into his arms as the rest of us crowd around him. She tugs on his braided beard and he pretends to be hurt. Mother stands back, watching, as she holds the hand of the youngling Bodvar.

He looks at each of us, his bright blue eyes take us in one at a time. “How are my boys?”

“We’re doing well enough, father,” Thorkel says, standing tall with his chest puffed up.

“Thorkel and Bothvar spent most of the summer doing slave work for all the trouble they got in,” Thormar says, earning a slap against the backside of his head from Thorkel. “Hey! What was that for?”

“For talking too much,” Thorkel says.

Father only sighs. “Some things never change.”

“Did you bring us any gifts, father?” Svala asks.

“Yes! I want a gift,” Bodvar says, trying to push Svala aside, which earns him a thump on the head by Svala’s fist. He tries to kick her, but she just puts her hand against his forehead as he swings and kicks at her, not able to land a blow.

“I did. For you, my daughter, I brought you a golden necklace with a big red ruby. I know how much you like red,” he says, pulling it out of his pocket. Svala’s eyes light up as she takes it.

“Thank you so much, father! I love it,” she says.

He brings out a sword and gives it to Thorkel. “This is a sword I took from a good warrior who fought me well.”

“Then I will become a great warrior to wield it,” Thorkel says with pride.

He pulls out a big glowing orb. This one is green. “There you are, Bothvar. Another one for your collection.”

“Thank you, father! I do not have this color,” I say, taking it in amazement. I can’t pull my eyes from its glow as mist seems to swirl within it. It’s so mesmerizing. It makes me feel good. More alive.

He then pulls out a small round object and gives it to Thormar. “They call it a compass. It always points north. That way, you’ll never lose your way. Oh, and some more maps, just like you asked for.”

“Oh, thank you, father!” Thormar says with sheer happiness as he takes them.

“And for you, Bodvar, a big battle hammer, for your collection,” Father says as he grabs a hammer from his men. It’s taller than Bodvar. He can’t even lift it.

“Thanks, papa, I smash!” Bodvar can’t even lift it. He can barely even drag it behind him.

Several slaves are led from the docks. A lot of them are elves. There are some humans and elves with white robes stained and dirtied. Others have what used to be fine silk. I get a good look at them as they are led up to my mother and my Aunt Sigvor. I heard she once had a daughter who would’ve been older than Thorkel, but she got sick and my aunt could not heal her. That is why she has become so devoted to the healing arts.

Some are older elves; others are women elves. One man has a rather defiant stare. Next to him are two elven women. All three of them have blue eyes like shimmering water that completely take over the eye, leaving no white like ours; instead, the circles are just more intense blue that shines brighter than the rest. Although there are some elves that don’t have any glow and have whites in their eyes. The defiant man has long hair and dark skin. While the two women have pale ivory skin. They cling to him. Those three seem to have vibrant eyes that shine brighter than the rest. The others are rather dim and shallow, besides a girl elf that looks around our age. She has vibrant green eyes instead of blue, but like the other three, the entire eye is green with bright green orbs that swim in the pool of green. I’ve come to learn that the radiance means they have some magical ability. My mother grabs the face of the man to get a better look. He struggles to pull away. My mother lets him go and then he struggles when she does the same to the two women and the girl. He seems to have some attachment to the two women who share the same eyes.

My mother and my aunt look over the slaves. “Keep the ones with the radiant eyes separate. Those Sigvor and I will take. The rest put to work with the others.”

“Very well,” Rognvald says, a bald man who is my father’s quartermaster. He separates the three elves with the glowing blue eyes, the man and the two women. My father pulls the little girl with the green eyes aside. Rognvald takes the rest away.

Asfrid and Arni join us at the docks with Arni’s hair full of flowers, coming to find their own mother and father who raid with my father. Father looks at them and his face slowly saddens.

“Girls… I… I’m sorry, but… Your father and mother. They… They died. They died honorably and now feast in Valholl. I’m so sorry. Your father was one of my closest friends,” father says as he kneels down to face the two girls.

“But… Mother said that… She said she was going to teach us how to fight. She said when she gets back…” Asfrid says as tears well up in her eyes. “She promised!”

“I picked these flowers for mother,” Arni says as she drops them. Asfrid turns and runs away. Thorkel takes off after her.

Mother steps up to father. “What shall happen to them? We can’t let them fend for themselves.”

“We shall take them in as our wards,” father says. “I promised Hrut I’d look after them, and I will keep that promise.”

Arni cries and I step over to her to take her hand. She buries herself in my chest. My father’s fist clenches. “Damn them elves! All the blue-eyed bastards.”

“Son, why don’t you take Arni inside the hall. She needs time,” mother says, and I nod.

Father takes a moment to breathe in deeply, letting his anger fade, then turns to mother. “Why don’t we give this little green-eyed elf girl about Arngunn’s age to the girls so they have someone they can talk to?”

“That is wise. I’ll take a look at the girl,” mother says as I take Arni away. We go to my room, where she goes to my bed and collapses. After I put the orb with the others, I lie down with her and put my arm around her.

I don’t know how long we lay like this, but it was some time before someone knocks at my door. There stands mother with the little green-eyed elf girl. Her skin is darker than ours. It’s the color of bronze. Her hair is dark.

“What do you want?” I spit out.

“Is that how you talk to your mother?” she asks. Her hand goes to her hip as she narrows her eyes at me.

“I am sorry, mother.”

“It is okay. I will let it slide. Since Arngunn’s parents died, they will live with us. The girls will all sleep in Svala’s room. This is Semet. She will be our servant. I would like her to be with Arngunn and Asfrid,” mother says.

“Go away. We don’t want her! She’s an elf! The elves killed her parents. I hate them!” I spit out.

“Bothvar!” mother says with a shocked and angry expression.

“It’s okay, Bothvi. She can stay,” Arngunn says as she rubs her eyes. “She looks like she could use a friend. So could I.”

“Bothvar, you could learn more from Arngunn. Don’t be so cruel,” mother says, boring her eyes into me. “Besides, there are different kinds of elves. The green eyes are different from the blue eyes that killed Arngunn’s parents. You would do well to learn these differences. Maybe you should also spend time with the girl and learn about her people.”

Then her expression lightens as she looks over at Arni. “Arngunn, I am so sorry for your loss. Just know, if there is anything you and your sister need, please let me know. We will treat you like our own daughters, and you will always have a home here.”

“Thank you, I just miss them so much,” Arni says, sniffling as she wipes away another tear.

Mother wearily steps over and kneels down in front of Arni. “I know. They miss you too, and they will see you again in the halls of the gods where you will feast together. Then, you can tell them all about your journeys and the family you will have.”

“Really?” she asks, looking up at her.

“I know it to be true,” mother says.

“I can’t wait to see them again,” Arni says, rubbing away her tears.

“Well, hopefully you can wait just a little longer. We would hate to lose you too,” I say.

Arni smiles and wipes away the last of her tears. She hugs me.

“Will I get to see my parents too? They were killed by the blue-eyed elves who took me,” Semet says.

“No, you and your parents are heathens and will spend all eternity lost in the cold waste of Niflheim,” I say.

“Bothvar! Why would you say that to her?” Mother asks in a growl.

“What? I was just saying what is true,” I say.

“You do not know that. Perhaps her parents are waiting for her in the halls of their gods. Do not speak about things you do not know,” mother says.

“Yeah, that wasn’t very nice, Bothvi,” Arngunn says. She then gets up and walks to the girl and hugs her. “Don’t worry, Semet. Your parents are with mine and soon we can join them together.”

“Really?” Semet asks, her face full of hope.

“I know it. We just have to be good so we can join them,” Arngunn says.

The little girl nods, wiping away her tears. “I’ll do my best.”

“But only our gods are the true gods,” I say, looking up at my mother.

“Perhaps, or maybe all beliefs are true. Maybe their gods and our gods exist within the same realm, or different realms. Or maybe they are the same gods. We do not know, and no one can say for sure. Regardless, it is not for us to say. We follow our gods because that is what we believe. Doesn’t she deserve the same right to follow her own beliefs?” Mother asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I suppose,” I say, considering this. I turn to the elf. “I’m sorry for what I said. Your parents are probably with your gods, and I hope you can join them when it is your time to take the last voyage.”

She nods and smiles. Mother is smiling too, but she has tears in her eyes. Why is she crying and smiling at the same time? That doesn’t make any sense.

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