Studying her Vikings
Norsemen Academy, Volume 1
Skye MacKinnon
Published by Peryton Press, 2019.
Studying her Vikings © Copyright 2019 Skye MacKinnon
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Basically, please don’t pirate this book.
Cover by Peryton Covers.
Published by Peryton Press.
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Studying her Vikings (Norsemen Academy, #1)
Author’s Note
ᚴᛅᛒᛁᛏᚢᛚᛁ 1
ᚴᛅᛒᛁᛏᚢᛚᛁ 2
ᚴᛅᛒᛁᛏᚢᛚᛁ 3
ᚴᛅᛒᛁᛏᚢᛚᛁ 4
ᚴᛅᛒᛁᛏᚢᛚᛁ 5
Resources
Also By
About the Author
Author’s Note
Dear Readers,
Ever since I started publishing, I wanted to write about Vikings, but I lacked the confidence to do so. I wanted it to be accurate, as close to the historical facts as possible, and didn’t think I had the knowledge and resources to do so.
Last year, I started a Master’s Degree that involved taking a course in Runology and Old Norse. I find the language absolutely fascinating, and even though the grammar is quite complex, the vocabulary isn’t. There’s a surprising amount of words in Old Norse that are similar to modern English, French and German words, which helps a lot when trying to understand a saga or an old runestone.
After a semester of studying runes and Viking records, I finally felt ready to at least start writing a book about Norse culture. One thing that really helped was realising that we don’t know as much about Vikings as I thought we did. Take the pronunciation. There are no auditory records of how Old Norse was spoken, and while we can look at how today’s Icelandic and Scandinavian languages are articulate, we have no guarantee that it’s the same as the Vikings would have pronounced it.
In addition to that, most of what we know comes from archaeological evidence and from written records, including the famous sagas, gravestones and rune carvings. Those written stories are mostly about famous people though. They don’t give us all the details of daily life, and there’s always the doubt that the author may have overexaggerated some things for dramatic effect.
Basically, I realised I shouldn’t have been as scared to venture into writing about Vikings. I’m going to try and stick close to what we know about their lives, but I’m also accepting that this is fiction. There will be deviations from how it may actually have been back then. I may make mistakes in portraying my Vikings. But that’s okay. I’m here to tell a story, and just like the saga writers, I may overexaggerate occasionally. Call it creative freedom.
Saying that, I’ve tried my best to make sure that all the Old Norse vocabulary is correct (no, my Viking Studies professor will never know why I asked her for checking some expressions and spellings).
If you’re interested in learning more about Viking runes and Old Norse, keep reading after the final chapter to find some resources that may be helpful.
Enjoy Studying her Vikings!
Skye MacKinnon
Jafnan er hálfsögð saga ef einn segir.
A tale is but half told when only one person tells it.
The Saga of Grettir, chapter 46
Map
ᚴᛅᛒᛁᛏᚢᛚᛁ 1
I looked at my mother one last time, then turned away. I’d prepared for this moment for weeks, but it had still come as a shock. For both of us. There were streaks of tears on both our cheeks and if I turned around, I’d see her tears drop onto her pretty red blouse. But no. I wasn’t going to look at her again. If I did, I’d run back and stay.
“Ready?” the woman next to me asked. She’d never given me her name, but it was obvious that she was employed by the Academy. Only TTA staff wore the white and blue uniform with a starched white collar, a row of silver ear studs and a set of cyber bracelets.
I clenched my fists, fighting the impulse to return to my mother. It was the price of acceptance. Never see your family again. By going to the Academy, I was making sure that my mother would be provided for till the day she died, but it wasn’t an easy price to pay. We’d always been close, especially after dad left. It had taken her months to convince me to apply to TTA. Eventually, I’d given in, never actually believing that I’d be accepted. It was a one in a million, hell, one in a billion chance.
“Ready,” I replied. A shiver ran down my back. This was it. The moment everything was going to change.
“Take my hands and whatever happens, don’t let go. I don’t want to lose you before you even arrive at the Academy.”
The woman’s voice wasn’t unkind, but it held a certain dispassion that told me that the only reason she cared about my wellbeing was a professional one. They’d probably sack her if she killed a student in transit.
Her hands were freezing, making me realise how cold the day had become. It smelled like snow. Was it going to be snowing at the Academy? Nobody knew where it was located. It could have been in the centre of the Sahara Desert, for all I knew.
The woman gripped my hands tight and began to count. “Three.... two... one...”
Sunshine burst from the skies, drenching us in beams of light. Seconds later, we were in the air, racing through time and space, our bodies nothing but flecks of light. That’s how I imagined it, anyway, after being taught about the mysteries of porting at school. It was something only the rich could afford, so the teachers basically told us to not get our hopes up of ever actually experiencing it. I doubted any of them had experience of porting themselves; otherwise, they wouldn’t have become teachers in our shitty inner-city school.
It only took a couple of seconds before we reached our destination, but I wished it would have lasted an eternity. I’d never felt so light, so carefree. There was so much space around us, sparkling with opportunities and hope. Life had always been claustrophobic in our tiny flat on the third floor of a massive tower block. Knowing there were hundreds of people living above us made me feel small and besieged. Insignificant. This, however, was the exact opposite. Even though the light and shadows around us didn’t make any sense, didn’t conform to my usual perception of reality, it all felt big.
Our landing was abrupt and painful. Gravity and sound crashed into me, making me stumble and fall onto the hard ground.
“Buckets are to your right,” the woman said and walked away, the heels of her shoes making little echoey sounds as she walked. We seemed to be in a stone building, but my eyes weren’t ready to function yet. Lights flashed across my vision, followed by white fog. I blinked several times, trying to restore my sight.
Had she mentioned buckets? Why would I need a bucket?
A retching sound from my left told me exactly why. The smell of puke followed the sound a moment later, and I held my hands over my mouth and nose. Yuck. Someone stumbled past me towards the buckets, almost tripping over my legs. More heaving and groaning. Whoever was making these noises really wasn’t feeling well.
Something wet touched my lips. Was I crying? I lifted my hands to my eyes, but they were dry
. I licked my lips. The iron taste of blood surprised me. I touched my nose. It was bleeding. Damn. Luckily, I had a couple of used tissues in my coat pockets, so I scrunched one of them and stuck parts of it into my nostrils to stem the bleeding. Hopefully, it would stop soon.
Slowly, my vision returned, although everything still looked a little foggy. I was in a large hall, surrounded by other people kneeling on the ground. Now that I had a closer look, I realised that the stone floor was actually marble. Posh. Wide marble columns reached up to the ceiling which was so high that I couldn’t really make it out with my impaired eyesight. Behind the two columns in front of me, a staircase led up to a pair of old wooden doors. This room had to be at least as big as my entire school had been, and there wasn’t even furniture in here. Just empty space with a couple of plastic buckets stacked up in a corner. After growing up in a city where space was at a premium, this felt like a bit of a waste.
The retcher slowly stumbled back to wherever they’d come from, but the smell didn’t disappear. I got to my feet and walked towards the staircase. If I didn’t get away from that smell, I’d have to throw up myself.
Just when I reached the bottom step, the large doors opened with a low rumble. There was a bright light on the other side, so bright that the man’s shape was visible only as a silhouette. I blinked, but my eyes weren’t able yet to make out the details. All I could see was that it was a large man in a white form-fitting suit, probably the Academy’s uniform.
“Attention!” he called out with a booming voice. “Everyone who threw up, assemble to my right. Everyone who didn’t, stand at my left.”
Groans followed his words. Several people didn’t sound like they were ready to stand yet. I walked to his left, then realised that I was still having a used tissue hanging from my nostrils. I removed it as quickly as I could without anyone else seeing it. No idea why it embarrassed me; it was better than throwing up into a plastic bucket.
It took forever for everyone to assemble. Only two others were joining me on the left, both of them girls. They seemed younger than me, but I was old to join TTA. Most people joined up straight after leaving school, but that was when my mother had fallen ill and I had much more important things to think of back then. Like whether she would survive. Now, two years later, she was back to full health, but our savings were non-existent and our debts towering above us like nightmare creatures. I’d applied for dozens of jobs, but with a two-year gap on my CV, I’d had nothing but rejections. Until the letter from TTA arrived.
“Looks like it’s only us,” one of the girls muttered. She had striking red hair with yellow ends, making it look like flames were flickering around her head. She was taller than me and thin as a beanstalk. Her chest was flat and I suddenly felt a little self-conscious about my boobs that barely fit into my bra.
“Did all of them puke?” I asked bewildered, staring at the group of at least thirty people on the other side of the hall. “It wasn’t that bad.”
The girl grinned. “Maybe they’re just not cut out to be here. I’ve heard that they’re weeding out people in the first few weeks to make sure only those talented enough stay. Maybe the three of us will be the only ones to stay.”
“Or maybe we’re the ones who failed,” the other girl whispered ominously. She was an entire head shorter than me. Her hair was covered in a purple headscarf and her wide black dress hid most of her shape. She was wearing black gloves and somehow, I didn’t think it was because of the cold.
A pit opened in my stomach. What if she was right? If I was expelled from TTA before I’d even had my first paycheck, I’d not be able to provide for my mum. I’d be back at square zero.
“Welcome to the Academy,” the man said with his beautiful deep voice. I was sure he’d be a great singer. He turned to the pukers and smiled. “Well done for making it here in one piece. We only lost one today, which I think is a new record. Don’t see being nauseous as a weakness. It’s normal for most to experience some discomfort when porting.”
The pit in my stomach grew. If this was normal, then the three of us were decidedly unnormal. Did my nosebleed count as the same? Should I be standing on the other side?
The man turned to us. “The three of you didn’t throw up?”
I shook my head.
“Did the porting affect you in some other way?” he asked.
Fire-hair girl cleared her throat. “I’ve got a headache and my vision is kind of fuzzy.”
The girl in the headscarf didn’t say anything, so I guessed it was my turn. “I had a nosebleed and the same foggy vision. It’s almost back to normal now though.” I added the last bit hurriedly, almost like an apology. I still didn’t know what all this was about.
“My stomach hurts,” the third girl said quietly. “I can see alright though.”
The man nodded and smiled. “All of those symptoms are normal.” He spread his arms and pointed towards two doors at opposite ends of the hall. “You’ll be housed in different wings of the Academy. The three of you who didn’t exhibit signs of nausea will be in the fast-track class, since you have the potential to travel the furthest back in time. The rest of you will be in the standard class, proceeding with the regular curriculum.”
Murmurs came from the pukers. I could almost feel their jealous stares. To be honest, I would have preferred to swap places. Fast-track class? I didn’t know anything about time travel, I was a complete newbie. I wanted to take it slow, learn everything I could. If I failed because I travelled too soon, I’d be expelled. Or I’d be stuck in history, trapped forever. I clenched my fists. I couldn’t fail. I’d not leave my mother starving. I was going to succeed, and if that meant I’d stay up every night to study.
“This is great,” fire-hair girl grinned. “We’re special. We might be able to travel within weeks! Imagine, going back in time. I’ve always wanted to meet a hot stone age guy.”
“Socrates,” the girl in the headscarf muttered dreamily. “Hippocrates. Pythagoras. Plato. Do you think we get to choose to when we travel?”
“No idea,” I replied. “I don’t think anyone knows. It’s not like the Academy advertises the details of what they do.”
“My uncle is a TA,” fire-hair girl said with a smirk. “He’s told me stuff. Top secret. I bet I’m going to be top of the class with that knowledge.”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. She could be top of the class for all I cared. I wanted to know what to do, how to travel, I didn’t care about grades. I never had. Grades were just numbers, they didn’t mean anything. What mattered was what was stored in my head.
Headscarf girl met my eyes and smiled. “I’m Maryam,” she said and held out a gloved hand.
“Lainie.”
We shook hands. Her grip was strong, surprising me.
“Where are you from?” I asked. The Academy took people from all over the world, as long as they spoke sufficient English to follow the classes. That made me wonder, were there other academies for other languages?
“Lyon in France, but I was born in Sudan,” she said. “You?”
“New London.”
“I’m Kaycee from Chicago,” fire-hair girl interrupted before I could say more. “Have you ever been to the States?”
Both of us shook our heads.
“I bet the Academy is somewhere in the US,” Kaycee said with a proud grin. “All the important things are.”
Maryam rolled her eyes. “Have you looked at the architecture? This building is far too old to be in the States. I’m betting Europe, maybe somewhere in Germany or Austria judging from the style of the columns. See those carvings at the top of the door? Definitely European.”
Before Kaycee could reply, a young woman joined our group. She was wearing the Academy’s uniform. I realised that she had only two silver studs in her left earlobe. The woman who’d brought me here had five on one side and four on the other. Were they an indication of rank?
“I’m Sue, your assigned mentor,” she said with a cheery smile. Her blue e
yes twinkled as she took us in. “I’m going to show you around, assign your quarters, and if you have any questions, I’m the one you should come to. I won’t be doing any of the teaching, but outside of lessons, I’m your main contact. Any problems, I’ll be there to solve them.”
Her smile was genuine; she really meant it. I smiled back at her. It was good to have someone around who was both friendly and knowledgeable. I was going to follow her around like a puppy until I knew the ropes. I wasn’t the most confident of people, not in new situations anyway. If it was necessary, I could take charge and step over my own shadow, but for now, I was going to soak in as much knowledge as I could.
"We have both single rooms and dormitories," she continued. "Which would you prefer?"
"Single," I said quickly at the same time as Kaycee.
"I'm fine with a dormitory," Maryam muttered. "I'm used to sleeping in one room with my sister."
I shot her a pitying look. I was lucky in that I was only leaving behind my mother. Other people had entire families and large groups of friends that they'd never see again. Most of my friends had moved away after we graduated from high school, which meant that I didn't really have anyone who'd miss me besides my mum.
Sue grinned. "That means that you two will share a room and you," she pointed at Maryam, "will get a single room. We like to put people out of their comfort zones here. You won't always get what you want."
I sighed. I should have stayed quiet or pretended that I liked being around people at all times.
"Is there no way to upgrade?" Kaycee asked in a whiny voice. "My uncle went to TTA as well."
Sue shrugged. "We don't care about your family or your connections. Everyone starts at the same level here. Now let's go before we miss dinner."
ᚴᛅᛒᛁᛏᚢᛚᛁ 2
Sue didn't give us any time to properly look around our new home. Luckily, the room I was to share with Kaycee was bigger than the one I'd had for myself back at my mum's place. Our beds were on opposite ends of the room and a tall bookshelf acted as a screen for privacy. Two large wardrobes were close to the door. None of us had brought any clothes - we weren't allowed to take anything with us to TTA - so that meant they would either stay very empty or the Academy would provide us with enough things to fill them with.
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