Eira: Banished (Viking Guardians Book 1)

by Kaitlynn Clarkson

  Eira: Banished

  Viking Guardians Book 1

  Kaitlynn Clarkson

  Contents

  Contents

  Copyright Page

  THANK YOU!

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  GLOSSARY

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  Kaarina: Rejected Chapter 1 (Sneak Peek)

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  More Titles by Kaitlynn Clarkson

  About Kaitlynn Clarkson

  Copyright Page

  Copyright © 2020 Kaitlynn Clarkson

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic and mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.

  Disclaimer

  Although the places described in this story are real, it is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to any event, either historical or recent, or any person, living or deceased, is completely coincidental.

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  THANK YOU!

  Thank you for choosing my book; I just want you to know that it means a lot to me. I know you had a choice … and you chose mine! (Happy dance!).

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  When Halvar takes his younger sister Freja to the festival of the Disting, he expects her to be on her best behavior. After all, she’s supposed to be finding a husband.

  But Freja cannot help herself. Wild and free-spirited, she is a skilled archer and a keen competitor who ignores the rules for women in her society. She finds a way to join the men-only archery competition and her talent catches the eye of a jarl, who decides he must meet her.

  Freja’s mind is as sharp as her aim and she eagerly engages in the discussions surrounding the politics of the land. The jarl has never met a woman like Freja and he cannot stop thinking about her.

  But with trouble looming in the form of a new king, the jarl must do his best to keep his people safe and he is forced to attend to political matters. When the crisis passes, the jarl’s thoughts turn to Freja. Is the difference in their social status too great? Can they be together? Or must the jarl bow to the will of the people and take a wife who will offer a political advantage?

  This novella is set in the days of King Haakon of Norway, a time when the Vikings left their homelands to raid and plunder; when Christianity was making tentative approaches and kings fought for the right to rule.

  CHAPTER 1

  E ira ran for her life, her legs churning as she gasped for breath. Her pursuers were close behind her, pitchforks and axes raised as they shouted in rage. They were just three in number, a father and his two sons, but she could feel their anger as if it were a whirlwind gathering strength. She glanced behind her and almost fell but strong hands caught her, lifting her to her feet. She looked up and met her father’s eyes. He gave her a stern look and she knew that he meant business. The three men stopped in their tracks, each of them sizing up the big man. He looked down at the girl and smiled ruefully. He knew it wasn't any fault of hers, this gift she had been blessed with. Or was it a curse?

  "Stay behind me," he ordered. Then he stepped forward and drew a line in the dirt with his foot. "Whoever thinks himself man enough to face me, cross the line. You want her? Come get her!" His voice was loud, seething with anger.

  The three men looked at each other. None of them had expected to encounter a situation like this. The older one amongst them dropped his gaze, turning back abruptly as he did. The two others followed him, dragging their pitchforks behind them.

  "He actually brought two axes!" Bjarni exclaimed under his breath as the assailants retreated. "What did you do this time, Eira?" he asked the girl whose beautiful green eyes met his.

  "I did not do a thing, Father. Nothing at all." She looked away from him after answering, focusing instead on something in the distance.

  He sighed. "Eira, it is evident you did something. Why else would they be after you with pitchforks and axes?"

  "I know not. Perhaps they think I am hay for their horses or wood for their fire?"

  Despite the situation, Bjarni found himself laughing at her silly joke. "Hay? Wood? Come on, Eira. I am sure you did something to them."

  The girl shifted her attention back to her father. "Uh... Maybe I did a little something. You could call it meddling for the good of the clan."

  Bjarni strapped his axe to his side then looked at her again. "And what is that little something that you meddled with?" he probed.

  “They were planning to do something bad and I confronted them about it." She looked away as she said it. She was afraid he would get angry because she had done something that he’d warned her not to.

  Bjarni didn't want to get angry with her so he kept walking instead. He sighed with exasperation. There seemed to be no end to the troubles his daughter could get into. Her escapades were more than he could cope with. He’d heard whispers among the clans of her special ability to read people’s emotions and figure out what they were thinking. Indeed, she had already been branded as armr; in most cases, a völva was regarded with great respect due to her powers. But one who committed evil deeds against members of the community was feared and hated, especially a young one whose powers had not fully developed. He'd had to defend his position as chief of the clan several times due to her supposed evil interference.

  "Are you not going to say something?" she asked him as she fell into step with him.

  "There is nothing else to say, Eira. You are crossing the line and you know it. It is only a matter of time before these people get you. What do you expect me to do then?"

  Eira slid her fingers into his. "Fight them like you always do," she said to him.

  Bjarni stopped walking and looked directly at her. "That is the problem, young lady. I cannot always be there to protect you. There is no guarantee that I'll be there whenever you need me or whether I shall live long enough to find someone to protect you."

  The last words jolted Eira to the reality of her position. She was already older than the average age for marrying yet there was no one willing to take her in marriage. The fear of her abilities ran too deep and no family wanted the stigma of being associated with a bad witch.

  "I am sorry, Father." Eira was crestfallen. It wasn't her intention to make things hard for her father but there was nothing she could do to avoid the urge to tell what she knew sometimes, especially if it were going to save someone else from harm or trouble.

  “I know, Daughter. You have a good heart. I just wish you would learn to use your gift more wisely,” Bjarni told her as they entered the village.

  Two women walked by and greeted Bjarni. It was considered courteous to greet the leaders of the clan no matter how you felt about
them. One of the women started to say something but clamped her hand over her mouth, glaring at Eira instead.

  "Eira! What was that about?!" Bjarni asked as they continued walking.

  She looked at him, puzzled. "Nothing. What are you talking about?"

  "Did you not see the way Alva looked at you? She wanted to say something but she didn’t dare. Surely, there must be a reason for her to act like that.”

  “I know not, Father,” she replied. “Why do you think everything that happens here is caused by me?”

  She didn't wait to hear the rest of his words, instead stomping off down the path into the woods. She planned to get some herbs for her medicine pouch. It was one thing to be treated as an outcast by her people because she was different. But it hurt when her own father assumed that she had something to do with the wavering moods of the village people.

  Bjarni sighed and walked back to his hut. The girl was stubborn, way too stubborn. If he had his way, he would have married her off to the nearest man who would have her, even though clan leaders normally chose partners for their children with great care. It helped to strengthen ties and alliances between the clans and it kept wealth amongst the leading families. But when it came to Eira, there was always the whisper of evil that clung to her. No one wanted an evil witch in their family who might cause them harm through her malicious spells. Even if the rumors weren’t true, there would always be whispers surrounding her. As a result, while most of her friends were now married and having babies, Eira was doing whatever she pleased.

  "Oh Heimdallr, grant her your mercy," he prayed as he walked on. He had heard of the new religion that was gaining a hold in his land; of course he had. Vikings returning from their travels had brought Christianity home with them and he could understand its attraction. Even King Haakon was encouraging the people of Norowegr to convert to the new ways. Bjarni had no argument with someone who wanted a different belief system. But for him, the old ways were best.

  The smell of cooking filled his nostrils as he neared home. It bore the signature scent of his wife’s handiwork. He had been fed from that pot for a long time and the smell of the food always made his stomach rumble. He quickened his steps. He was famished and a hot meal was just what he needed. Sure enough, his wife was about to serve the food as he walked through the door. He smiled at her; together they had produced eight children and weathered many difficulties

  "Welcome home," she greeted him.

  "Astrid! I see you have made food." His greeting came with a wide grin.

  "Yes. Now, sit and eat. There is much we need to discuss."

  He set down his axe and sat down to eat. The meal was just the way he liked it, hot and tasty. He usually liked to take a bath at this time of the week but the food had to come first. The bath could wait until later.

  Astrid watched as he ate. She couldn't remember how long they had been married but it was a long time and she knew him like she knew her own self. Her thoughts turned to their children. Four of their daughters were married and living in nearby villages. Two sons had married girls from other villages and brought them to live here, in the village of Thvengr. Only two children were left at home; Balder the youngest son and the obstinate Eira.

  She thought about their lives over the years. They had been fortunate, blessed by the gods, she believed. Her husband had worked hard and they enjoyed the prosperity and prestige that came with being the clan’s leading family. They had thralls captured from other clans or purchased at the slave market and as a result, she didn’t have to work too hard, although she would never be idle. She was fortunate that Bjarni had disdained the practice of taking multiple wives as did many other clan leaders. He always said she was enough for him. She was grateful; it meant that she didn’t have to compete with other women or share their dwelling. He was the best man a wife could want. There was just one problem: Eira.

  "Speak up, woman. You sit there staring at me like I have died and my ghost is eating my food.”

  Bjarni's voice cut through her thoughts. "Oh, stop shouting and finish up your meal, will you?" she scowled at him, but there was no malice behind her words.

  Bjarni laughed at her. He had forgotten how stubborn his wife was. No wonder they were having problems with Eira. She was so much like her mother that Bjarni often felt as if he were looking at a young Astrid when he looked at Eira. They were alike physically and also in their spirited personalities. Eira had Astrid’s stunning green eyes and long, thick, blonde hair. Her skin was smooth and clear and her features were perfectly proportioned. She was a fortunate girl indeed to have inherited her mother’s beauty. Not that it had done her any good in finding a husband. He noticed the men looking at her with hunger in their eyes but no one was brave enough to touch the daughter of the clan’s chief.

  "You are a bully. Just like your daughter," he told Astrid. He never let her get away with bossing him around.

  She playfully slapped his arm. "Bjarni, you whine a lot. How is it that I have not divorced you and married another?"

  "Because there is not a man in the land who would put up with you as I do. You know that and so do I!”

  It was Astrid's turn to laugh. She went to sit beside him as he finished the meal. As soon as he had wiped his hands clean, she leaned her head against his shoulder and allowed him to pull her closer.

  "Now, what was it you wanted to tell me?" he asked.

  Astrid sighed. "It is Eira who bothers me."

  Bjarni turned to face her. "Has she caused you trouble, too?"

  "No. I just feel she is not safe around here anymore, if you know what I mean. The village people are suspicious of her, the men look at her as if they want to eat her, and we’ve been unable to find a husband to protect her."

  "What would you have me do then?" he asked. "I do my best to protect her from them, as do her brothers. But you know her better than any of us. The girl is as wild as a boar."

  Astrid got up and walked towards a corner by the room. She picked up a handcrafted amulet and held it in her hands for a while. "Maybe we can send her away from here," she said.

  Bjarni rose from his seat, feeling agitated. He didn’t want to even think about sending his daughter away. Despite the difficulties she caused him, he loved her. Their home would seem so empty without her. "The girl has done nothing to warrant such treatment!" he exclaimed, rubbing his hands together.

  The door opened and Eira walked in carrying as many roots as her hands could hold. "Who has done something? Who are you sending away?"

  Bjarni looked from his wife to his daughter and back. He stood there, head bowed in silence as he tried to come up with a plausible answer to her question.

  "Who is going away, Mother?" Eira asked again.

  Astrid came to stand beside her husband. She needed his support; she knew it would be difficult to get Eira to agree to her plan.

  "Uh... Eira. We are sending you over to Taft, my brother. There, you will be protected and well cared for."

  Eira stared at them, lost for words. Her mouth opened and she closed it again, fear in her eyes.

  "I want you to know that this is not my decision and it is not final,” Bjarni told her quickly.

  There was a moment of silence as they each held their breath, waiting to see how Eira would react. She stood still, stunned by this turn of events. Then she dropped the roots she was holding and with a desperate sob, ran from the house.

  Bjarni turned to his wife. "How could you have just said that to her?"

  "What?! She can get as angry as she wants but is it not better to send her there than allow her to remain here? Would you rather have her safely away from here or dead in your arms?! Would you?!"

  Bjarni didn't know how to answer. He hadn't even had time to think about her plan to send the girl away. How was he to know the best way to smooth things over when she had already complicated the matter by making a decision without him?

  "What is your problem? She is your child!" he blurted out.

  "And I would
rather have a living child far away from me than a dead child in the graveyard behind my window." Astrid's eyes were wide open and her voice had taken on an edge of danger.

  Bjarni recognized the warning signs but he wasn’t ready to give in just yet. Once Astrid made up her mind about something, trying to change it was futile. But he had to try one last time. "Think about it, Astrid. Why is this the only option you could come up with?" he asked again.

  Astrid made no effort to answer his question. Instead, she took a seat directly opposite him, green eyes boring into his.

  "Is this not the same Taft that you do not speak to? Is not this the same one who swore not to have anything to do with our clan because you supported his rival? Come on, Astrid, think this through."

  Astrid didn't answer him. Instead, she got up and walked out of the house. The clouds were rolling in and it looked like there would be rain soon. She went to feed the chickens before the rain came.

  Inside, Bjarni picked up the roots that Eira had dropped and put them away. He felt sorry for the poor girl. His wife was so stubborn that she usually got her own way when it came to a disagreement. He wished that Eira could be accepted for the lovely girl he knew her to be. Why couldn’t she just lose that gift of hers? It had caused her nothing but trouble. A heavy sigh escaped his lips. This wasn't going to end well, he thought.

  CHAPTER 2

  E ira sat by the riverbed, trying to make sense of the awful news that her mother had just delivered. This was where she was always free. It was her own special place where she could commune with nature; listen to the birds sing, watch the opening and closing of flower buds, even feel the wind against her skin. Here, she was as free as a bird in the sky. She peered into the water, trying to spot any insects or small fish swimming in the cold water. Instead, her reflection stared back at her and brought back the misery of her situation. It wasn't her fault she had an unusual ability that no one else did; people just didn't understand. If only they would give her a chance, maybe they would see that she could help them. She splashed the water and the reflection distorted into dozens of ripples. But they don't understand, she thought. No one does. Not even her own mother whose best idea was to send her to Taft. Taft!