In the distance she heard shouting and felt vibrations as the dock bounced beneath her. The cold wood of the dock cut into her fingers as she pushed herself to stand, succeeding only when Jorg wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her. Shouts and commotion finally broke through her daze and she turned to see where it was coming from. A young boy lay on the dock in the middle of a pool of liquid, pieces of splintered wood scattered around him. Without hesitation and not knowing why she felt compelled to go, Ingrid ignored her wobbly legs and rushed to the boy. She pushed past the gathered crowd and kneeled down next to his supine figure. The smell of ale stung her nose and the coppery tang of blood hung in the air. The boy's chest barely moved up and down and a quick glance down showed why. A splinter of wood longer than Ingrid's hand and a third as wide protruded out of his leg. With a deep breath, she latched onto the splinter and pulled as hard as she could. It slipped out easier than expected and her arm flung out wide. Dropping the bloodied piece she slapped her hand over the hole in the boy's leg and closed her eyes. Concentrating all her thoughts on the injury and willing it to close so he could wake, she ignored everything and everyone else. A strange warm, nearly hot, sensation ran down her arm and into her hand. In a heartbeat she felt a jolt through her chest. Ingrid knew she was holding her breath but dared not move. Her hands pulled away from the boy's leg and dropped into her lap. With a small flutter, the boy's eyelids lifted. He coughed and Ingrid barely had time to scoot back before he vomited all over himself. Every muscle in Ingrid's body felt as heavy as iron, and she sagged onto her heels. A couple of men helped the child to sit up as he sputtered some more, but color started to ease back into his pale face. Ingrid stole a glance down to his leg and gasped; he wasn't bleeding anymore. Her head drooped toward her chest.
"What did you do?" One of the men asked, his eyes as wide and unblinking as an owl.
"Nothing. I, I don't know . . . I just wanted to help him. That's all."
A hand reached out and pulled Ingrid back away from the crowd and she stared up into the worried faces of Hagen and Jorg. Over their shoulders she saw her father coming toward them from the direction of his boat.
"This way," Hagen put his hand on her shoulder and turned her so they headed toward her father. "You need to get out of here."
"Why?"
"Why are your hands so hot?"
"What happened?" Klaus asked, deep lines etched across his brow.
"I don't know. Ingrid started to fall down. Jorg caught her before she fell off the dock but the keg he rolled got away and crashed. That boy was hit and bleeding, but now he's better," Hagen said. Turning to Ingrid, "How did you do that?"
"I didn't do anything. I don't know," her voice trailed off as she shook her head. Air caught in her dry throat as she tried to breathe. What did I do?
"Why are your hands warm?"
"They aren't," Jorg clutched one of Ingrid's hands.
When did that happen? She looked up into his strained face.
Grabbing her hand, Hagen felt it, then grabbed the other one also. "They were. Not just warm, but hot. I swear it, Father."
"Ingrid, what made you fall that started all of this?" Her father narrowed his eyes at her and waited for an answer.
"I saw a child, Papa. I don't know. It's like I was here and then, for a second, I was seeing something else. I can't explain it." She could feel the sting in her eyes and tried to keep the tears from falling, digging her nails into her palms, but it was no use, they slid down her cheeks anyway. Dropping her face toward her toes, she tried to hide behind a curtain of hair.
A finger under her chin raised her eyes to meet her father's. He was not smiling and stared at her with an intensity that made her want to turn and run as fast as she could. "Go home. Stay inside with your mother until I get back there." Nodding her head, she turned to walk away. When she did, many in the crowd surrounding the boy watched her. Willing herself to walk as if no one else existed, she ignored the stares and headed for home. Whispers and mumbles reached her ears; mixtures of tone ranged from confusion to awe and even some fear. The hair on Ingrid's neck stood on end and her insides caved in on themselves. As soon as her feet touched the soft earth of the shore she ran as fast as she could and didn't stop until she flung herself down onto her bed.
4
Ingrid rolled over on her bed and blinked her eyes several times in the darkness. Her eyes felt like they were filled with sand and were tender when she rubbed them. Apparently, she'd cried herself to sleep, but all of the events on the dock flooded back to her. Voices drifted to her ears from the main room; it had to be dinner time. Light flashed briefly when the door flap was moved and then closed as someone tiptoed toward her.
"Oh, good. You're awake," Selby said when Ingrid sat up.
"Yeah. Did you hear what happened?"
"There are different stories floating around. I wanted to come to you earlier but I had to help my family pack and be ready for the trip."
"What are people saying?"
"Well, it varies, but most versions have something to do with you causing a keg of ale to smash into a boy. His injuries range from a broken leg to a wooden spike through his leg to death." Selby used her fingers to keep track of the different options as she spoke. "They all end with you doing some kind of Seidr magic to heal him."
Ingrid shook her head and rubbed her face, taking slow deep breaths to force down the bile rising to her throat. "They think I used Freya's magic, like the witch in the woods? I didn't even know what I was doing, I just did it."
Selby smiled and sat down on the bed next to her friend. "Most people around here farm or fight. Thinking isn't necessary for those. Besides, they'll forget about it and move on to their next problem soon enough." Lowering her voice she leaned closer to Ingrid. "Especially when we aren't here for them to see for a while."
"You still want to come with me?" Ingrid's shoulders softened.
"It's odd, I won't lie, but I'm not worried. I do want to know what really happened though. Not because I'm afraid, because I'm nosy." She bumped Ingrid's shoulder and gave her friend a wide grin.
Ingrid smiled, took a deep breath, and told Selby the truth of what happened.
"So Jorg saved your life. You could have fallen off the dock and been crushed by a boat or drowned."
"That's what you take from what I just said? I had a vision, or something, and somehow I healed an injury, a bad one. Those are the bigger issues here."
"Yeah, yeah, those we need to deal with too. What do you think the vision meant?"
"I don't know." They sat in silence for a couple minutes. "I felt different when I touched the boy." Ingrid said it so quietly Selby almost didn't hear her.
"How?"
"I don't know how to explain it. It's like my body moved, but I couldn't see it because I was wrapped in a big, warm blanket. When I stood up, Hagen grabbed my hands and said they felt hot, but when Papa took a hold of them they were cold again."
"Maybe you have some kind of awesome healer skills," Selby smiled, but stared at Ingrid's hands.
"How would I have anything like that? I'm just regular. Not even shieldmaiden worthy, so everyone likes to tell me."
"I don't know. Don't let it bother you, I'm sure there's some kind of explanation we aren't seeing right now. One problem at a time, and the first thing we need to do is eat--I'm starving. Then, we figure a way onto your father's boat and hide until we are far down the river in the morning. So see, we have much bigger things to worry about right now." She smiled and grabbed Ingrid's hand to pull her toward the door. There was a pinched look on Selby's face, but Ingrid excused it as hunger and followed her out of the room.
The place was packed. It was tradition for the men leaving on a voyage to bring their families to the longhouse and have a feast the night before they left. In their usual corner the girls tried to ignore the occasional stares and whispers directed toward them. Selby crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue to a mean, older woman who kept sneering. Ingrid
held back her chuckle as the woman huffed and walked farther away.
"Idiots," Selby muttered.
Songs of brave warriors and tales of old battles began after most of the meal was finished. Ingrid and Selby used the distraction to talk with their parents and put their plan into action. They wasted no time in packing Ingrid's things; in her panic from earlier she hadn't done anything. Selby already had her pack stashed outside ready to grab as soon as they could leave.
"We should go now while everyone is singing, that way no one will notice us on the docks," Selby said as she sat on Ingrid's bed and watched her tie a piece of leather around her clothes bundle.
"I think so, too. Let's say a quick goodbye to my parents and get going."
"Maybe we should just leave. What if they start asking too many questions?"
"I need to say something. You know my mother, she'll probably walk to your house later if I don't tell her good night."
"Probably right." Selby sighed and looked at Ingrid. "You have a good family, you know that, right?"
"Yeah, I do. Let's go before I talk myself into acting like the obedient girl everyone expects of me."
"This was your idea, remember. Don't even think of backing out." They smiled at each other and held hands as they walked to the other room.
Both of Ingrid's parents were sitting in their chairs on the dais at the back of the room, where her dad presided over village business. They each gave Ingrid a concerned look but didn't say anything to her about the day's earlier events, letting her leave with hugs. Her father promised to bring her a gift from Jorvik, which made Ingrid's stomach clench. She hated lying to her parents and might have surrendered at that moment if Selby hadn't grabbed her wrist and pulled her away.
As they passed Hagen, he stopped them. "Aren't you going to say goodbye?" He directed the comment to Ingrid but looked at Selby with a small grin. He toyed with her sometimes to be a pest.
"Goodbye. Enjoy your journey and I hope you don't have too many surprises you don't know how to deal with," Selby said. Her voice dripped with sweetness, and Ingrid wanted to slap her.
"There's nothing we can't handle." He motioned to all of his friends sitting beside him at the table. They laughed and patted each other on the back--except Jorg, who watched Ingrid with his brows together like he was in deep thought.
"Are you feeling better, Ingrid?" Jorg asked.
"I'm fine, thank you."
"Don't let anyone bother you about what happened today while we're gone."
Ingrid narrowed her eyes and glared at him. "Why would they do that? The only people who give me a hard time are sitting at this table."
He gave her a half grin that made his dimple peek out at her. She swallowed a lump that formed in her throat and felt the heat rush to her cheeks. "Then, I guess you should be safe." All the other boys laughed again.
Grabbing Selby's sleeve, she pulled them both toward the door. "'Bye." She couldn't risk any more conversation between them.
Selby retrieved her pack and they strolled around the village center casually to check the docks for anyone that would see them. They headed toward the end where Ingrid's father's boat waited to be first in line to leave in the morning. The sparkling gleam of the moon reflected in the gentle ripples on the bay.
"Eeep! I can't believe we are really doing this." Selby practically vibrated with her excitement.
"It sounded a lot less scary before but now I think I might throw up."
"Do it now before we hide. There's no way I want to go to all this trouble if we don't even make it long enough for the ropes to be untied." Selby smiled, but her voice sounded shaky and lacked her usual bravado.
Ingrid took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Let's do this." Walking quickly up to the boat, she heaved her pack harder than necessary to clear the railing to be sure it made it. Selby followed with her own and then they each took a hold of a different rope that kept the boat in place.
"Together on three," Ingrid said. "One, two, three!" They pulled themselves up and wrapped their legs around the rope to shimmy to the rail. Ingrid refused to need Selby's help and pulled herself over the edge almost at the same time as her strong friend. Both girls fell with a thud and groaned as they knocked against the wooden seats then fell to the floor. When they caught their breath, untangled their skirts, and checked for broken bones, they crouched onto their feet.
"Do you think anyone heard us?" Selby asked.
"No one is out here and they are all too loud inside. I'm sure we're safe."
They hurriedly grabbed their packs, then headed toward the front of the bow. The moon overhead provided light, but in the dark, shadows played tricks with their nerves. Both girls stumbled as they made their way to the bow, unsure on their feet as the boat rocked and bounced against the dock. All of the supplies were packed tight. They had to squeeze between two kegs to find enough space next to some crates along the hull of the ship. Ingrid stuffed her pack under her and leaned against the cool, rough wood trying to slow Thor's hammer beating inside her chest. Selby, just out of arm's reach, settled in much like Ingrid only a little more squished. They looked at each other with huge grins across their faces. Whispered squeals of delight escaped as they settled in for their long, cramped wait.
* * *
Sometime during the night, Ingrid's legs went numb. It could have been from being tucked up under her or from the freezing cold coming through the planks of wood. She slept in small amounts and knew that Selby had, too, from her occasional snores. Now, both were wide awake as activity on the boat buzzed all around them. Ingrid's jaw ached from her clenched teeth, unsure if her discomfort came from the cold, her nerves, or her screaming bladder.
Horns sounded signaling the ships to leave the harbor, and the boats drifted away from the docks. Butterflies took flight inside Ingrid's stomach at the same moment. Oars sloshed water against the side of the boat as they pulled it out of the bay. Rowers held cadence with a rhythmic "ho" as each oar sliced into the water like a perfectly timed dance. Each time the boat moved forward, a little jolt made Ingrid's back bump against the boat's hull. There was a lot of laughing and conversation above her, but she still heard the quacks of ducks among the reeds on the shoreline. The smell of a pear tree in full spring bloom hinted at her nose. She inhaled, long and deep, but instead of flowers, the scent of the fish stored in the barrels surrounding her flooded her senses. The excited butterflies turned into honeybees, jostled from their nest and angry. Another jolt from the oars, another waft of smells, this time the sour milk barrel, dove into her nostrils. She squeezed her eyes tight and clamped her hand over her mouth. The last thing she wanted to do was throw up in such tight quarters. The confinement closed in on her, sweat rolled down the side of her face, and her body trembled.
"Ingrid, stop holding your breath and blow out, slow, through your mouth," Selby whisper-screamed.
She did, but that just made her stomach more restless and the back corners of her mouth tingle with more saliva.
"Picture yourself floating on your back, letting the sun warm you, like we do when we go swimming." Selby tried to help but Ingrid couldn't listen. It took all of her effort to calm the storm raging in her middle. She opened her eyes and slammed them closed again. With only enough warning to lean as far over as she could, out flew the bees in an angry horde. Shaking and clammy all over, she felt like her insides had been wrung like a wet rag. One more heave and she lay limp with her head hanging between her knees. Pangs of regret washed over her and she wished she could lay down in her bed at home.
We shouldn't have done this. What was I thinking? Now we're stuck under here.
Ingrid battled her stomach and her conscience to exhaustion. Disoriented, she woke with a start and it took a second to remember where she was. The gentle, rocking rhythm of the boat cradled her nerves. There wasn't the thrust of the oars any longer which meant they must be under sail. Selby grunted from her left.
"Are you ok?" she whispered, hoarsely. Her thro
at was thick, like she'd swallowed a burning twig.
"I need to get out of here. Do you think it's been long enough?" Selby answered.
"I think we're under sail now."
Selby nodded her head in agreement. "Let's go then."
Ingrid felt stuck; she couldn't feel her legs and wasn't sure how to unfold herself. Pushing forward onto her hands and knees, she was thankful she had thrown up away from where she needed to crawl out. Inch by inch, the girls squished between the crates and kegs until they could see filtered light. Seeing the terrified look on Selby's face, she guessed it matched her own and she reached out, giving her friend's hand a squeeze of false reassurance. Leaving their packs for the moment, they crawled out into the open air . . . right smack into a pair of leather boots worn by one angry Norseman.
"What is this?" a voice bellowed. Ingrid cringed at the tone, immediately recognizing her father's deep timbre. Strong hands grabbed her arms and pulled her to a standing position, but she struggled to feel her legs. Rather than crumple to the ground, however, she was lifted high. Eye to eye with her father, his stare was like lightening bolts into her brain. A vein at his temple pulsed at the same speed as Ingrid's racing heart.
"What are you doing here?" He growled between his teeth with his lip curled up on one side.
"I . . . we . . ." Ingrid's throat was so tight she couldn't get the words out.
"We?" Klaus turned and saw Selby propped up by one of his men. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes for a second before stepping toward the platform. Ingrid's legs dangled over the edge when he sat her down. He turned and walked away from them.
The man holding Selby picked her up and deposited her next to Ingrid. "Don't move if you know what's good for you," he said looking at each of them. They both nodded but didn't say a word.
Every man on the boat glowered in their direction. Ingrid lowered her eyes into her lap. She heard footsteps coming toward her and closed her eyes.
Ingrid, The Viking Maiden (Viking Maiden Series Book 1) Page 4