"I don't understand. What abilities? What is coming?"
"Your questions will be answered in time. For now, keep your eyes and your heart open and what you need will come to you." She reached out and gently rubbed her finger on Ingrid's cheek. An overwhelming sensation of warmth mixed with a torrent of emotions. Then the woman turned and started to walk away.
"Wait, I don't know how to find you. How will you guide me?"
She smiled at Ingrid, and touching her shoulder she looked directly into Ingrid's eyes. How did she get in front of me so fast? "When the time is right, you will learn how to find me. Know that I'm close and waiting. Now go back to the others. He worries about you." She nodded over Ingrid's shoulder, making her look back. No one was there and when she turned back, neither was the woman.
Alone in the dark, Ingrid suddenly felt cold and scared. Turning back toward the sounds of camp, she hurried as fast as she could, stumbling occasionally but not falling. Just before she reached the tree line she saw Jorg pacing back and forth where he waited for her. She made no attempt at being quiet and he ran to meet her where she emerged from the darkness. "Are you alright? Did you see her?" He was touching her hair and her arms, inspecting her for injuries and she let out a giggle at his efforts. His intentions were of genuine concern, but Ingrid felt the heat of his hands on her and enjoyed it. He stopped and met her eyes, inhaling deeply, then smiled. His dimple burrowed into his cheek and Ingrid's insides turned to mush. "I guess you are alright, then." He said it, but didn't move his hands from her arms.
"I'm fine. She was confusing more than anything." Ingrid smiled at him and didn't look away. For a few seconds that felt like hours, they didn't move.
"We should get back." Before he let her go, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. A streak of fire surged through Ingrid. Jorg dropped his hands and walked back to the campfire. She stood for a moment, unable to move her feet. Gathering her wits, Ingrid forced herself to return to her tent and reality.
9
The next day the camp bustled with activity. The shields procured and the meetings over, it was time to pack up and begin the journey home. It would take longer from this direction to bypass the falls. Tighter packing was needed also to make room for the extra food as well as all the supplies they had traded for or purchased. Three of the men were still unable to make the journey home because of the broken bones they had suffered during the fight in front of the king's gates on their first day, despite the healing they'd received. Three of the king's men volunteered to take their place and fulfill their duties. With everyone and all supplies finally loaded, they shoved off from the docks early in the misty chill of the next morning.
It was hard going to row against the current every day. Even though the river was slow and lazy in appearance, it held a current that rippled under the surface like a giant rug being pulled out from under a table. Ingrid had positioned herself at the point of the bow as she had on the first trip so she could watch the horizon. She'd hoped her newfound courage would help her to avoid her seasickness, but it did not. Her stomach didn't care what kind of skill she had with a shield or mallet and refused to enjoy the gentle waves.
The men needed all the help on the oars they could. Jorg faced her as he rowed in unison with the others. Using him as a distraction from the rolling motion of the boat, she let her mind wander. Most girls in the village are engaged or married by my age. Why don't I feel ready for that? She snapped out of her reverie when she noticed a wicked little grin accompanied by the turn-a-stomach-to-porridge dimple staring back at her. Finding the horizon line, she willed her stomach to a halt. That's just what I need to do. Throw up all over with Jorg looking at me.
"I saw that," Selby whispered.
"Saw what?"
"You staring and him noticing. He likes you. I'm happy for you."
"It's nothing. I can't think about that kind of thing right now."
"I think you already are." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Besides, if you don't show some interest, he might start looking around. If he wanted to kiss me, I'd let him."
Ingrid's heart paused and her breath caught. "Mind your own business and leave him alone." She said it a little harsher, and louder, than she meant and a couple of the men closest to them glanced their way.
Selby lowered her gaze into her lap and gave a quiet giggle. "That's what I thought. That made you jealous."
"It didn't. Just stop talking about this." Ingrid scooted to the edge of the platform, letting her feet dangle and ending the conversation. When they stopped to make camp for the evening she was all too happy to jump ashore.
* * *
Midmorning of the third day on the river, they had to pull to shore and prepare to move the boats over land to avoid a strong section of rapids. Moving three large, heavy-laden dragon ships would take all-out effort. Everyone pitched in and helped. Ingrid cleared brush and debris away from the base of trees. Once felled, Selby worked to remove branches. Like an unlashed raft, logs lay next to each other waiting for the boats. Ropes and huge amounts of grunting effort would roll the ships across the ground. It was more physical work than Ingrid had ever done. She would wake in the mornings not remembering crawling into bed the night before. Her stiff muscles ached and begged to stay lying against the soft furs, but she hauled herself up to work on time with the others. While she didn't care for the strenuous tasks, she was happy to feel her muscles gaining strength through the exercise.
"Why the smile, Ingrid? Is this work too easy for you?" her father's teasing voice startled her from her thoughts.
"No, Papa, not even a little. I've never been so sore in my life," she confided. "I was thinking about home."
"Did you enjoy yourself in the city?" he asked.
"It was much different from I thought it would be."
"Yes, I'm sure it was. I'm also sure you weren't thinking to bring such a large bruise back with you on your jaw." Ingrid winced. "Hagen explained to me what happened and I understand that you did well."
"He had to help me, though. It . . . I didn't realize . . . " She struggled with how to explain how she felt, remembering the look of the girl's face and her slack body as it hit the ground with a splat in the mud.
"He was impressed with your fighting skills but has concerns about your ability to notice your surroundings in the middle of a fight."
"For a long time, I've thought about the excitement of battle and the stories that are told when a great warrior defeats an enemy. I never knew the impact of the weapon jars your arm so much it feels as if it will break, or how the smell of blood fills the air. I never understood what it's like to see another coming toward you in a rage." She hesitated and her voice grew quiet. "Or how they look when they fall. It was terrifying, Papa. Not the thrill I expected." Tired from all the hard labor, she didn't have the strength within to hide her true feelings. Not from her father, or from herself. Sadness, regret, disgust, shame; they swirled within her like an eddy of current in the river.
Nodding his head in agreement, he gently lifted her downcast face to meet his eyes. "I'm happy to hear that it was not a thrill to you. Battles demand injuring or killing others; it is serious business. My sweet Meyla, you do not have the heart to put your feelings aside. I won't tell you that you cannot train with the maidens at home. That's up to you. You have proven yourself ready for it, but that also means you know the requirements. Search yourself and see if it is the right decision before you go down a path you can't return from." The warmth in his voice and the gentleness in his eyes made her melt into his chest. Tears spilled onto her cheeks and she didn't stop them. He held her tight and let her be a child for an instant more.
With enough logs laid out, the ships crept along, inch by inch, like snails. Once a log cleared at the back, it was carried to the front of the line. Ingrid was too short to make a difference with the pulling ropes and not strong enough to carry the logs. Selby helped, though, so Ingrid kept out of the way and wandered along the edge of all the people
, alone. Useless again.
Several days passed at the painfully slow pace. Ingrid wandered around offering help with any odd job. A faint odor of rotting flesh pinched her nose. It was coming from off the trail and she ducked between some grasses to investigate. A few feet forward gave her the answer to what it was. Lying in a bed of matted grass was the decaying body of an otter. The flesh was all gone except on the underside next to the ground. It lay on its back with all the bones of the skeleton exposed and complete. She could see its long spine curved into an s-shape, and the bones of its front flippers looked like human hands. Ingrid couldn't see any teeth marks or broken bones. It didn't seem like there had been a struggle. Remembering the two otters playing on the shore the first day on the boat made her hope this was a different one, a poor thing that was either old or sick. She said a quick prayer of blessing over the body then hurried back to rejoin the group.
Rushing out of the brush and onto the trail, she joined the procession behind three men, the ones from Jorvik that had offered their help. Their gravely voices carried back to her, too deep into their conversation to notice her right away.
"You aren't paid to think. If she's one of them then they all deserve what's coming for harboring her kind."
"What if she's not?"
"Who cares, we were hired to do a job and I'm going to love being a rich man. You can leave if you don't want your share. We need to heat the tar without being noticed," the speaker stopped talking as soon as he spotted her, sparking Ingrid's curiosity.
"What are you doing this far back in the line, young lady?" one of them barked with a voice that sounded like a grinding stone.
"I had to step out of line for a minute. Is there a problem?"
"No. But you should get back to where you belong."
"I can be wherever I want to be." Brazen and bolder than when she left home, she wasn't afraid of him. Even when he took a step toward her. His body reeked of odor and he was missing most of his teeth. A cloud of foul stench floated over her when he spoke. "You're a feisty one, huh. You should add some sense to go with it."
"I'm sure I have more sense than you." Ingrid lifted her chin and stared into his eyes.
"Get movin,'" his gruff and even fouler-smelling companion hissed.
Glaring at each of them, she walked around them and headed for the front, trying to act casual. They did frighten her and she didn't like the look of them. They were up to something. What was it they had said? Heat the tar? She couldn't put it together and didn't want to go to her father like a tattling child, so she walked on.
Later that night Ingrid emptied a pail of dirty wash water and heard muted voices near the boats. She snuck around in the shadows toward them. Three men hunched on the shadow side of one of the boats, her father's. She crept closer to see what they were doing. In the dark it was hard to make out, but she could see hemp rope in their hands. She started to crawl away to get her father when one of them stood up and stared in her direction. She froze. The voices stopped and the whole world stood still. In the distance, frogs croaked and an owl hooted overhead, but Ingrid listened in the direction of the men. The man that stood up stretched and then crouched back down by the others. Ingrid let out a long, slow sigh. She laid down on her belly and scooted backwards as slowly and quietly as she could. One of the men looked around while the other two did something near the bottom of the boat. She couldn't see their faces but she was sure that two of them were the ones she had come across earlier. They could be doing some kind of repairs, but she didn't believe that. The men she had talked to were not the helpful sort. The air was heavy and the ground was damp. Ingrid wanted to get up. She should go and get someone, but it was as if her limbs stuck to the mud.
"Ingrid!" Selby's voice rang into the night.
The men stopped what they were doing and didn't move. Selby called again, this time a little closer. The men crouched low and waddled toward the end of the boat. They reached the trees and bolted into cover. Ingrid could hear the crack of branches and the thud of their boots as they ran away from camp. She picked herself up, ran back to the campfire, and Selby, leaving the wash bucket abandoned.
When she reached the ring of light offered by the fires, Selby's eyes popped open wide. "Where have you been?"
"I went to empty the wash pail and saw men crouched down by one of the boats. I hid until they were gone." She looked down at herself and realized Selby's shock. Mud clung to her from chin to knees. She started to shake as the cold air hit her moist body.
"What were they doing?"
"I don't know, I couldn't see much in the dark."
"Should we tell someone?"
"Let's wait until morning, then I'll tell Papa."
Ingrid's dreams filled with a sense of dread that night. She tossed and turned and kept in a panic, feeling smothered by her furs.
* * *
The next morning was cold with damp fog and a mist blowing across the bending grasses like ghostly smoke. Silvery dew gave everything a slippery cover. A breeze drove the chill to the core of Ingrid's bones. Voices echoed back against the low sky and gave the impression that they were the last humans alive. The incident with the men the night before was on Ingrid's mind as soon as she woke up.
Klaus was hauling supplies to his boat when she found him. "Papa," she called. After he set down the heavy box he carried, he walked toward her.
"Yes, Meyla?"
"I don't know if it's worth mentioning, but I saw three men by our boat last night in the dark."
"Why are you just now telling me?"
"I couldn't see much and didn't know if I should alarm you. Besides, the men ran off and I don't see them this morning."
"Tell me exactly what you saw." Ingrid described the event to her father and he strode off to inspect his boat.
The hulls of all the boats were checked and nothing out of the ordinary was detected. The morning meal eaten, the arduous task of shifting the boats to re-enter the river began.
Sunshine had burned off the foggy haze by the time the first boat slipped into the water. Irritated cranes flew up into the sky and chattering chickadees scolded from the trees. One by one each boat floated onto the river in position to sail and they set the oars to work.
Ingrid lounged on her stomach, her chin resting on the rail while she watched little bugs zig and zag across the top of the water. Then suddenly they were gone. She rolled over to see the oar workers struggle against bubbling water. They were entering a small set of rapids and Ingrid knew where the zippy little bugs had gone--straight into her stomach. She could feel them bouncing around as if they'd been caught in a jar with no escape. Remembering the techniques she'd been taught, she put her head down between her knees and measured her breath carefully. In through her nose, slowly out her mouth, counting. In one, two, three, four; out two, three, four. She kept her eyes closed but not scrunched tight and insisted to her hands that they not keep a death grip on her skirts. The jostling picked up and the boats had to spread out farther from each other to keep the oars from crossing. From her vantage point Ingrid was unaware of anyone else, focused only on her breathing. She imagined she floated through the air like a butterfly, but that bubble suddenly popped with a screech near the center of the boat. Ingrid sprang to her feet in instant panic. Wide eyed, she saw a flurry of activity as people started shoving barrels and crates away from the center of the ship. Horrified, she saw what caused the alarm. Water was coming into the boat. First it was a small seeping. Then there was a loud crack and bubbling cones of water came through the bottom like fountains. Everyone grabbed whatever they could lift and threw it overboard to lighten the load. Within minutes it was of no use and clear the boat was sinking. It started to lurch from side to side and people moved about trying to save what they could. From the corner of her eye she saw Jorg and Hagen push their way toward where she was.
Where's Selby?
Without warning the boat was on its side; people, barrels, crates, ropes, shields, weapons all spilled into
the icy, swift river. Ingrid caught a quick breath before she was tossed underwater. It was impossible to tell which way was up as her arms and legs flailed. Her long tunic and apron twisted around her and fought to keep her under. Murky darkness surrounded her and blocked all sight. Something hard and unforgiving banged against her head. Grasping for anything, her fingers found leverage on some type of wood and she latched onto it with all her might. Determined, she pulled herself above the surface and heaved her body onto the top of a broken crate. Most of her dangled underwater. Light danced in and out of her vision as she coughed up the gritty, foul-tasting water from her lungs. Exhausted, she could hear voices behind her but did not dare to let go.
My head hurts so much. Hagen. And Selby, that's who's calling me. I'll just rest a minute and then I'll swim to them. She closed her eyes and drifted away in the current, farther from the others.
Bright light pierced Ingrid's eyes from beyond her closed lids and she blinked them open against the unfamiliar sunshine. The scent of honey and jasmine floated in the air as she lay in the grass under a beautiful tree with leaves that looked like they were made of glass, their thin edges tinkling together in the slight breeze to form a sweet melody. As confusing as it seemed, she felt only contentedness. Watching the beams of light throw green sparkles through the magical leaves, she wanted to sink down into the soft grass and stay for hours.
"Hello, Ingrid. I didn't expect to meet you so soon." A gentle, dreamy voice came from her right. It took great effort to roll her head away from the beauty in front of her. Crossed-legged a few feet away sat a young girl with luscious, flowing golden hair that spilled onto the grass around her. Not much older than Ingrid, her eyes were a brilliant sapphire blue and crunched into a welcoming smile. "I'm happy you are here, but we don't have much time."
Ingrid, The Viking Maiden (Viking Maiden Series Book 1) Page 9