Wolves Among Danes

by Dolly Nightmare

  I sit on the bench watching the woman put the final stitches on what looks like a man’s shirt after finishing my breakfast and doing all the chores that needed to be done.

  She catches me staring as she breaks the string and she asks still sporting a slight accent, “Are you all finished with your chores?”

  I nod my head, and she begins to fold the shirt she had worked so hard on in the last week, placing it next to her on the bench.

  She then says putting all her needlework away, “You know, what’s your name? I never asked, and neither did my son. How rude of him to not even want to know his future wife’s name. If he were here right now, I would slap him silly. Names are very important.”

  I answer her, the fire next to us popping and crackling as the smoke rises into a hole in the ceiling. “Ellie.”

  “Ellie,” she repeats back. “Beautiful name. You also know a lot for a little girl your age. I have been watching you. The only thing that needs working on is your farm work, and from the looks of it, you don’t know how to fight. Other than that, you’re perfect. Your needlework is excellent, your skin is fair and not tan, you’re not too thin. To me, it looks like you were a little more than a commoner like Frey has told me.”

  I swallow slightly as I stare at her, but she seems to sense my nervousness, and she goes on to ask more. “You were from a wealthy family, weren’t you? Was your father a merchant? Perhaps a royal guard or someone who served your king?”

  ‘So, she doesn’t know everything,’ I think as I stare at the floor then back up to her and swallowing my nerves.

  I then answer her, thinking back to that fat-bellied man that Frey had killed. “My father was a merchant...The man...Frey killed him right before my eyes.”

  Her eyes widen slightly before she says, “Oh, I see. So that is why you don’t like him very much at the moment. I’m sure if Frey knew he wouldn’t have done that...at least not in front of your eyes. I’m sorry for your loss, Ellie, but we are your new family now. Try not to think about it too much. It will haunt you the more you ponder it.”

  ‘New family...’ I think to myself.

  The thought frightened me. I didn’t want a new family. As much as I hated my duties as a princess, I still loved my mother and my two elder brothers. I grab the new dress that was given to me yesterday.

  It was a black and red wool dress, with simple designs running down the middle of it. Supposedly here they had a lot of little girl’s dresses stored away in a chest in the upstairs loft, that was constantly filled with smoke from the downstairs fire. I had wondered if she once had a daughter, but I didn’t see any women but herself around.

  She smiles slightly, and she stands up and walks towards me before offering her hand to me. “Come here. Let’s go out for a little.”

  I glance at her hand hesitantly, but before I know it, I take it as I stand up from my spot on the bench and she walks me out the front door. I’m curious about where she will take me.

  She rides her horse proudly with her head held high, and I can tell people respect her as they greet her and smile at her as they pass by. I also note the curiosity in the strangers’ eyes as they see me on the horse with her, but they don’t ask about me, maybe in fear to offend because they don’t know of who I am when they should.

  I sit in the front, and her arms are around me as she holds the reins of her horse loosely. It feels a little too close for comfort, but overall, I am not bothered much by it.

  “Where are we going?” I ask now as we are no longer at their home but a little way from it at this point and well into town and by the port where I first arrived. I smell a strong scent of the ocean air, and the breeze is sharp and whisking my loose hair against my own face.

  I try and turn around to look up at her, and she smiles slightly as she keeps her eyes forward. “You will see. Learn to have patience little one.”

  I frown slightly, and I mutter turning my gaze to the village. “I do have patience...” I waited this long to ask her, doesn’t that prove that I am patient?

  I tuck strands of my hair behind my ear in slight irritation while looking at the houses and the busy people.

  But then I see something making me freeze. As I look towards a particular house, I see Margaret standing outside, carrying two pails of water.

  Her white dress is covered in dirt, and it doesn’t look as if she has had a bath since she arrived at this place, the more I look at her messy appearance.

  We then suddenly meet eyes, and my muscles go stiff. She doesn’t call out to me, greet me, or smile like I would imagine. She just stares before setting the pails of water down in the grass, returning to her task whatever it may be.

  ‘Did they make her into a slave? Or was she given the same treatment as me but by another family?’ I ask myself before turning back and looking towards the woman who has yet to share her name with me.

  I then ask curiously, “What happened to the other children with me on the boat?”

  She returns my gaze at my question, and she replies but hesitantly, “They were probably made slaves or sold…Why?”

  I start to frown more, and I reply honestly. “One of my friends was on the boat with me. Actually, most were my friends.”

  “I see,” the woman states and her gaze shifts to the front of her and no longer on me.

  “Do you think you can do something about that?” I ask her, my voice pleading.

  “I can’t. What’s done is done. The Gods have decided their fate along with yours,” she replies.

  “What do you mean?” I ask her, horrified.

  And the gods...? There was only one true God.

  “It’s as I said. The Gods decide everyone’s fate, Ellie, you can’t change that. You were meant to be my son’s wife, and they were meant to be slaves.”

  “No! My God would never allow such things to happen and call it fate. Whoever your gods are they are fakes!” I hiss raising my voice at her from getting angry. “My God would never,” I say more slowly.

  She then averts her gaze to me but angrily and she says, “That’s because your god is the one that is false, Ellie. You will come to understand that with time.”

  “He is not false!” I yell at her, and her eyes grow cold.

  “Ellie,” she warns at me, her voice stern as well as her face.

  I breathe heavily through my nose trying to calm myself down, her anger growing from the look in her eyes and I turn around facing the other way, not wanting to look at her.

  Gods....Who were these false gods they believed in? They did keep mentioning people like Odin, Thor, and a lot of this person called Loki in weird ways.

  Were those their gods? I don’t dare bring them up to ask her as I feel her steaming in anger behind me.

  The rest of the ride through town is silent, and my anger remains built up inside me, but I don’t show it, and I’m not certain about the Viking mother behind me and if her anger was still present from before.

  But when we arrive at a dirt clearing a little way into town, she stops the horse from going any further, and she is the first to speak. “This is where I wanted to bring you.”

  “Here?” I ask her, confused, pausing briefly before saying “It’s nothing but dirt...”

  ‘What’s so special about here?’ I think more in my head.

  “It’s where young warriors, both men and women, learn to fight. These grounds have seen both failure, success, and sweat and blood,” she explains to me.

  I perk up slightly at the mention of men and women learning how to fight. Something that has always interested me even though I tried my best to keep it a secret from my family back in England, but I believe my mother definitely knew of my interests.

  “I would think you would be interested. Do you want me to teach you how to fight? During my days of raiding, I was a fearsome shield maiden myself before I found I had a child in my belly.”

  “I...I don’t know,” I sputter mostly out of surprise.

  “You don’t know,�
� she says before getting down from the horse carefully, leaving me on top of it still. I look at her as she gets down on the ground and she asks, “Would you at least like to try?”

  “Right now?” I ask her, my eyes wide, and I shift on top of the brown chestnut horse before she reaches up and grabs me by the waist. I notice she picks me up with ease and then how gently she sets me on the ground.

  “Yes, now,” she says before pulling her horse to a tree and tying the reins to it. “I am told by Frey you have a warrior’s spirit. It would be a shame to let that go to waste.”

  I stand in the middle of the dirt clearing not knowing what to do, and as she returns to me, she then says, “Well, show me what you’ve got in you. Come at me Ellie and don’t worry, you won’t hurt me.” She smirks slightly when she finishes her sentence.

  ‘Does she want me to come at her with just my bare hands?’ I think, seeing no wooden swords, armor, or any real weapons.

  I look at her a little shocked, and I say awkwardly, “I can’t...”

  “You can,” she urges.

  “I said, I can’t,” I state. “I won’t do it.”

  “Hmm, then let’s make a deal, Ellie. Come at me with everything you’ve got, and if you defeat me by some chance, then I will see what I can do for your friends,” she says.

  My eyes stare at her, and I ask, “Really?”

  She smirks some more. “Yes, really. Now, do we have a deal?”

  I am hesitant for just a second before I nod my head and reply, “Then we have a deal.”

  “Good,” she says. “Now try and win your friends their freedom.”

  I feel a bit awkward before getting serious as I stare at her. I ball my fists and remember I’m doing this for Margaret and the others.

  Before I know it, I force my legs forward and charge at her while screaming in frustration, thinking perhaps if I defeat her, I can the others and find my way back home.

  Though it seems so far out of my reach and probably would be for a long time, all this was a test...A test of my strength.

  She doesn’t move or anything but stands in the same spot. I would think I should have at least been able to knock her off her feet, but as soon as I slam into her, she is still unmoving. She doesn’t even budge an inch.

  She laughs at me, and she says, “You’re not only weak, but you’re slow.”

  I try pushing at her with all my strength, but she does not move.

  I’m slow? I was the fastest child back home...or so I thought.

  “Can’t even move me, huh?” she asks, mocking me which only infuriates me.

  She then goes on to speak, grinning as she does, “Frey and Leif were a lot younger than you when they both knocked me on my arse. Apparently, the English don’t teach their young how to do anything useful.”

  I push harder, my shoes digging into the fresh dirt but no matter how hard I try, she doesn’t move, and I give up and let go of her body to which I clung to while attempting to shove her down.

  My chest rises up and down from how hard I worked to knock her over, and she then says as I back away from her, “Let’s start you off with doing some running.”

  “Running?” I question her.

  Wasn’t this supposed to be a one-time thing that I already failed?

  “Yes. Run from here all the way back to our little home,” she says going back to her horse. “You have never really put your legs to good use. I can tell how you lack muscle. The only thing attached to your arms and legs is fat.”

  “That’s impossible,” I say, harshly as I am insulted by her words, “and I am not fat!”

  “I wasn’t calling you fat, Ellie. You are far from it,” she says, wandering back to her horse and untying the reigns, climbing on top of it. “All I am saying is that you lack much-needed muscle.”

  The horse trots along with her on top of it, and I walk towards her. She smiles before kicking the sides of her mount making it run, and she yells “I will see you at home! Better start running, my girl.”

  I then start chasing after her, panicked about being left behind and not knowing my way back to the house and having to go through that village all by myself. “Wait!! Don’t leave me!!”

  But no matter how fast I run, the horse would always be faster, and she is already far ahead even with my legs still rushing forward. Before long, I am left behind.

  I stop to catch my breath after a while of running, and I am back into the village to see there are no signs of the Viking mother. I then swallow after panting and regaining my breath and look at the village like it was my worst enemy. It seems I must head back myself.

  The skies have long since faded from blues to oranges to black and I am left exhausted and frightened while still wandering through the village, most likely lost as I should have probably been back at the house by now.

  I look around at the people’s homes and barns, but nothing seems familiar to me. Everything looks the same, and I feel like I am walking in circles which at this point might be very well true.

  My legs throb, my muscles burn and beg for a break as I have not given them one. I start to feel hopeless, and I go to sit down in front of the mead hall but then I see someone walking towards me, their body all but a shadow in the dark.

  I tense again, and I do not run towards the figure or back away. Instead, I stay in place not knowing what to do and hoping it was the Viking mother who came back for me.

  Then the more the figure grows near, I know it is a tall man seeing from what I could make out from the build of the body, and his attention was clearly set on me. I start to pray, hoping he wasn’t dangerous, and perhaps one of the men like Leif.

  I then sigh in relief after he draws closer, and I can make out some of his face in the pitch black. It was the man, Frey, and he chooses now to speak to me but in his native tongue. “Seems mother is already set on training you to be a shield maiden, but your sense of direction is way off, lass. You’re far from home.”

  I see him offer his hand to me, but I don’t want to take it, and I tell him snottily, the crickets chirping loudly, “Just show me the way home, you brute. That must be why you’re here. I don’t need to take your dumb hand.”

  ‘Although I wish he’d brought his horse with him. I am tired and I don’t want to walk anymore,’ I think, annoyed.

  He stares down at me before he puts his hand back to his side and I huff at him. The only thing that annoys me more than anything here is him. He is the sole reason why I was here in the first place.

  Then before I know it, I am swept off my feet and thrown over his shoulder harshly. My heart starts thundering loudly in my chest, and I yell at him squirming slightly, “Let me go!”

  He doesn’t listen to me, even though he knew I wanted to be put down at this point. He says more in his native tongue. “Don’t put up a fuss. I know you’re tired. You were staggering, and I was walking home, anyway.”

  I am breathing heavily in frustration and fear, and before long I give up on squirming, too tired to put up much of a fight. I sigh heavily as he starts walking with me thrown over his shoulder.

  “I hate you,” I mumble, feeling awkward over the man’s shoulder and from one of his hands having a tight grip around my thigh, I guess to keep me from falling.

  He doesn’t respond, obviously because of our language barrier being a big problem. He is the only one in his family that doesn’t know my language. Maybe he’s too dumb to learn it or something like that.

  All I can do is stare at the ground as he walks while some of my blood rushes straight to my head making me feel slightly uncomfortable. With each step, my hair also sways and gets in the way of my face.

  Since he is warm, the slight chill I was feeling from the night air is also long gone from my body.

  “Why do you even want me as a wife?” I ask him knowing full well he couldn’t understand me. “Are you lying to me and secretly planning to eat me with those sharp teeth of yours...I bet you are.”

  Silence follows, and I s
hut my eyes, irritated. My hip bone grinds down into his shoulder making me feel even more uncomfortable, the only thing keeping me awake.

  As everything is silent, all I can do is think about how this man would be my future husband and how eventually as a woman I would have to marry him and be with him the rest of my life.

  Eventually, we enter the forest, and it is then I know we are close to that place they call “home” and not long after that at his fast-paced walk he slides me down and on to the ground once in front of the house.

  My feet touch the ground, and I glare slightly at him before turning around and entering the home. It is then the Viking mother greets me and says while sitting on the bench, “Welcome back home, Ellie.”

  I glare at her too for leaving me behind to fend for myself, and I also see Leif is back home. He is eating fish for his dinner, meaning I would have to share the bed with him once again.

  I hear Frey walk in next as he shuts the door behind him. I then announce to her and everybody, being grumpy and not wanting to eat with them, “I am going to bed. I am tired.”

  Then I walk towards the beds, my legs still throbbing, and I collapse into Leif’s bed, my eyes shutting. Hopefully, today would be the last day I had to walk that much and alone.

  But at least the man Frey took me back home.

  Home... Pathetic, now I am starting to call this place “home.” I didn’t want this to happen. This place was never home. It was hell.

  Chapter 7

  Devil Children

  July 10th, 992 AD

  It has been a while since I first arrived at this place the Vikings inhabited, long enough for seasons to change again and again and again.

  It was first spring when I arrived, then summer, fall, and later the brutal winter, killing crops, and forcing us to eat mostly preserved foods.

  During winter I couldn’t help but think about how I missed Christmas but then shortly after I found the pagans had a similar thing called “Yule,” while some like Frey called it “Jul.” Frey was eager for me to attend, but I remember the day didn’t end very well.