Fljótdís- Daughter of the North
Page 33
The leather strip she had always used to suspend it was burned away, but the pendant itself remained intact. She glanced around to see if anyone was close by. There were so few survivors. This was not the Great Hall of the past with its many warriors, visitors and staff members. The town was like an empty, smoking crater. Would she be able to pick the pendant up, or would she be like a ghost, having no worldly substance?
Her fingers felt the metal. That was a good sign. Using her thumb and first finger, she moved the pendant just a little. It took an enormous amount of patience and care. She heard someone coming, and with no more time for caution, she grabbed the pendant from between the bent and broken finger bones of the corpse and ran for all she was worth.
She stopped behind the shelter of a smoking tree and looked down at her hand. It was there in her hand, her beloved pendant. No one could hear her anyway, so she shouted out her relief.
It didn’t solve anything, but a new realisation struck her now that her pendant was back in her possession. She was a woman of combat, a woman of war. The gods had decided to take away her chances for vengeance and freedom, her chance to share Valhalla with those she loved. So be it. If she could no longer fight the mortal enemies who had destroyed her life and everyone she cared about, then she would take her fight to the enemies she could fight. Her war for vengeance would be with the gods.
She made her way to the only place she could go to gather herself for what was to come, her home by the river. Only it didn’t feel like home to her now. It was of the past, and she could no longer dwell in the past. She had to prepare herself for what was to come.
She found a strip of thin leather and immediately laced the Thor pendant back around her neck, then went to the big wooden chest and found two large daggers. How she longed for her sword, but it was lost to her now. It was a blessing to be able to hold the daggers in her hands, something else granted to her in this new reality. But the old adrenaline was not there pumping through her blood, and it caused her enormous sadness. She needed a good fight. And what better fight than a battle for justice against the gods?
She had to discover a place where that old excitement would happen again, a place where she could still make an impact, even as she was now. She put on a tunic and breeches and grabbed her father’s cloak. With one last look, she left her childhood home and headed for the harbour. It was time for somewhere new.
No one could see or hear her. No one could say no to her. She could board any ship of her choosing, and she chose the biggest one in the harbour. It was destined for the Celtic lands, England. It was where Erik had planned to take her before things went so wrong. She refused to let her thoughts go down that path. She would go to the Celtic lands for his sake and hope that the further she got away from the poisonous memories of King Harald and her stepmother, the stronger she might become. Only time would tell. For now, she would learn how to use this new reality to her advantage. She would survive and make a mockery of this curse. It would be her one morsel of revenge against Harald and Irena.
She didn’t fool herself into thinking the Celtic lands would be her salvation. She just knew that she had to leave this place and take on whatever enemies awaited her. It was her destiny to fight and win. She would not permit Irena’s twisted magic to change that. There had been some very big losses now. But she was determined that those losses were over.
She touched the precious pendant at her throat, the treasure from her father, and revelled in the feel of the daggers tucked into her belt. No one had taken any notice of her so far, so she had to believe that whatever she took upon herself became as invisible as she was.
She watched the shores of her land fade into the distance and once again, the familiar rushing of her blood began. Whether it was because of someone on the ship, someone ready to challenge her on a distant shore, or the gods themselves, she would be ready for them.
THE SAGA OF FLJÓTDÍS, DAUGHTER OF THE NORTH, HAS ONLY JUST BEGUN. READ ON FOR A SNEAK PEEK AT WHAT HER FUTURE HOLDS.
She had to run. With every hurried breath she took, they got closer. She was fast, but she was in no way able to outrun their horses. Still, if they caught her it would mean surrender and most likely death. She wasn’t sure why they were pursuing her, but she was not about to stop and find out.
A treacherous root made her lose her balance and she landed on all fours. Sweat stung in her eyes and her heart raced, but she got up quickly and kept running. The woods were so dense she had no idea where she was going, but the hope was that it would be to somewhere safe. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a frightened deer race deep into the cover of the bushes. She was no different from that frightened deer. But it was only for now.
The ground under her feet started to tremble and a thunderous noise reached her ears. At first, she thought it was Thor in the skies above her, but as she inched forward, she realised it was the sound of water falling from an enormous height with the utmost rage. She nearly slipped over the edge of the cliff. The roar was deafening and as she peered down over the huge drop, she realised that this was a murderous height, the kind of fall a person would not survive.
A cold shiver slid down her spine and she didn’t have to turn around to know that her pursuers were right behind her. They had her cornered.
“Drop your weapons!” The man’s voice could barely be heard over the rush of the waterfall.
She had no intention of disarming herself, but she raised her hands and turned around.
And there they were, five Asgardians in their shining armour on their white horses. Two of them had large golden spears. One was armed with a bow and the other two had large, double-headed axes. The blades looked sharp enough to cut off a giant’s head with one swing.
“That’s it, Fljótdís.” Their leader took off his helmet, revealing a scarred face. “You have nowhere to go. Drop your weapons and come with us.”
“Come where?”
At least she needed to find out where they planned to take her. The man with the bow drew an arrow and aimed it straight at her heart.
“To Asgard.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then you die.”
Her hands were still in the air and her weapons remained in place. “Alright, alright, not a great choice, but I can work with that.”
She glanced back over her shoulder and then at the waiting Asgardians. They didn’t approach her so that was good. She took a subtle step back, closer to the edge. They left her no choice. She didn’t know who wanted to see her on Asgard, but she knew by the deadly determination of these warriors that it wouldn’t end well. Someone was sending assassins to get rid of her and it wasn’t the first time she had been in danger because of them. Whoever wanted her on Asgard wanted her dead and she had had more than her fill of dungeons.
“Stop right there!” the man shouted as she took another step closer to the ledge.
She spoke loudly enough so that they would be sure to hear her words and take them back to whomever had sent them to capture her.
“You know, there is one thing you should know about me. I have sworn never to set foot on Asgard again. And I do not break my promises.”
The Asgardians jumped off their horses and dashed toward her. She gave them a mischievous grin and dropped over the ledge, dodging an arrow by the breadth of a hair. The wind whistled in her ears as she plummeted through the deadly chaos of the falls. She took a deep breath and plunged into the drowning darkness beneath the surface of the churning pool.
About the author
Sanita Trumpika has a life-long passion for history, adventure and the magic of storytelling. She grew up surrounded by tales of ancient Viking lore in her native Latvia before establishing her current home in her beloved Scotland, where she is always in sight of Edinburgh Castle. An avid traveller, photographer, graphic artist and outdoorswoman, she takes her inspiration from the historic locations that are all around her and from the tales told in the ancient Norse Sagas. Like her heroines, she belie
ves in the strength and courage of those who choose to make their own heroic stories in life, despite the odds.