Drunken men laying in hay outside the mead hall or on the ground just outside of it. These men had just come home from another raid. Disgusting, because here they are celebrating after they slaughtered good Christian men and women.
Then there was the woman named Runa whose eyes would glare at me with hate I did not understand though she might just be like those children.
Maybe she had lost someone, but her glare unnerved me, to say the least, and I hurry faster past the place she always stood, the side of the mead hall. It was as if she waited there every day like clockwork, just waiting for me to run past.
I try not to pay any mind to her eyes which were the eeriest here besides that of Frey, but his eyes were only scary when he was upset with me. I had Noma to protect me when his eyes got to that frightening color, and his chest swelled with anger.
He only got angry with me once, and that is when he tried doing my hair like his, his finger brushing against the back of my neck causing me to panic. I spun around and smacked him as hard as I could while I spat out, “Don’t touch me you savage beast.”
I remember my words came out before I even had a chance to think, and he understood the premise of what I said in English. I think that is what got him angry the most. Not the smack but my words.
I have never seen Frey so angry and upset with me, but fortunately, Noma brought him outside whispering stuff into his ear, saving me from his wrath. What she said I don’t know, but he seemed to calm down at least a little.
I did not have Noma to protect me against that woman who Leif seemed to like so much. She was not at all like Leif, who was humorous and good-natured despite the fact he was a savage.
Frey and Leif’s father seemed to like her company and paid her compliments, one of the few times I have heard him speak, and I felt his words were directed at me when he said them.
I wonder if she were to kill me since their women were as brutal as their men, would she get in trouble? It was something I did not want to think much on, and so I run more. I needed to get stronger and faster so I could get out of this hell alive and in one piece.
I leave her glaring eyes behind, and I start to leave the village after passing the busy market with vendors selling an assortment of odd and gruesome things; however, there were beautiful jewelry and dishware amongst their goods, so not everything was horrific.
But all those goods were stolen from others and the beautiful things I have never seen before did not come from my homeland. It made me wonder who else they tormented with their devilish ways.
I come to the edge of the woods and head inside the place I was no longer afraid of like when I first came here. I have gotten used to these woods, and I had mostly everything mapped out in my head. Not just the woods but the village too.
And on my hip was a small knife that was hooked on to the rope tied around my waist. It was something I found during my adventuring around the village. The knife was abandoned and thrown into the woods, or perhaps it wasn’t at all and someone had lost it when doing their own adventuring.
After going further into the woods, I find the perfect tree and my hand glides across the rough bark before staring up at the tree limbs.
I reach my hands out towards a branch before pulling myself up on to it, and I keep climbing up the tree before settling on top of a sturdy branch. There I sit and look around the woods while on top of my ‘perch’.
Here was somewhere where I could find peace and to enjoy nature and be by myself. Sometimes I would even practice their language while lazing on the branch—a place no one could hear me and make fun of me. I also felt a sense of security while up in the tree. No one would think to look up here in the woods and in a tree no less.
Perhaps I should make a claim on this tree, and I take out my knife from my hip and turn slightly around writing my name out in English and as soon as I finish writing the last letter of my name, I hear noise coming from down below. My eyes glide back down instead of the bark with my name carved on to it.
Below me, I find a woman giggling with bright blonde hair guiding none other than Frey himself into the woods. I watch them with narrowed eyes as I slip the knife back around my hip.
Frey doesn’t look amused at first until the woman walks past my tree and goes further into the woods a few feet away from where I sit and turns around and pushes her back against the tree while staring at Frey with a seductive gaze.
She smirks, and she says something out in Norse. “Are you still looking for some fun my earl’s son?” She plays with the strings of her dress before pulling them and revealing more skin and her fleshy bosom.
He approaches her slowly, and he says back in Norse, “Maybe. You certainly captured my attention now, Astrid.”
I frown, knowing where this was leading, and it wasn’t something I was interested in watching. I move slightly away from my branch and my feet touch the branch below me. I try to be as quiet and apt as I can to remain undetected.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Frey box the woman in, and he kisses her roughly. All the while the woman moans lustfully in the kiss.
I want to curse her and him. Her for being such a lewd creature and not waiting for marriage, and him for accepting such terms outside where anyone can see them.
Not to mention he brought me here for a future wife, yet he couldn’t even wait for that. Though, he was a pagan, he was no Christian man like I was originally going to be wedded too. Pagans apparently didn’t wait for marriage and had no integrity.
As I slide more down the tree, my curiosity bests me, and I look back up to the two. I was curious as to how love making happened.
I heard stories from the older and poorer boys, but it always sounded like such nonsense. They basically told me it was like rubbing privates together and it felt good.
By then his mouth travels from her lips to her neck, down to her bosom.
I blink a couple of times, and he pulls the front of her shirt down revealing her white breasts and before I know it his lips move over those too.
I continue to watch as his tongue slides over her pink nipple and the woman moans his name out.
Once I start watching, I can’t tear my eyes away. I didn’t understand how that woman was feeling good, and I look down at my own chest, which was flat.
Maybe it was because I didn’t have breasts like hers, and I was still a child and nowhere near being an adult woman. Maybe in a few years I would like such a thing done to me, but I wouldn’t be so disgraceful as to make love out of wedlock.
I feel my cheeks warm as he starts to pull up her dress and his hand slides in between her legs which makes the woman noisier and she starts breathing more heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
Then as I shift my weight on to my other foot, the branch creaks, and immediately I see Frey’s eyes open. They eerily glide over to where he heard the noise, and he moves away from the woman’s breast.
Our eyes meet almost instantly, and it seems he is between shock and denial. Before long I feel panic set in my chest at being caught.
I would be labeled a pervert and not only that he might kill me for catching him in the act!
I then quickly attempt at sliding down to the branch below me once more, but my footing is off as I am more focused on getting down and running.
My heart stops as my foot slips from the branch, and my weight topples me over the edge, and everything is a blur, and the only thing I see clearly is the top of the green tree.
I clench my eyes shut tightly in fear, and before long I hit the ground. What follows is a sickening crunch and searing pain.
I cry out in pain, and when my eyes open once more, I am on the ground, my whole body aching and it isn’t long before I hear cursing behind me and rushed footsteps.
Then I see his face as he examines me and he mutters in Norse once more cursing, “Fuck...”
It isn’t long before the woman wanders over too and adjusts her dress and she asks, “Is she all right?”
�
�No, her leg is broken,” he replies to the woman, panic visible in his eyes.
I understand what he says, and I sit up slightly to look at my legs, but my back aches also, and I see my leg is bent at an awkward angle. Tears slip down my face from the pain, and I start to feel lightheaded and dizzy as I lay back down panicking, my chest rising and falling rapidly.
He goes to pick me up and I remember where his hands have been, and I sneer at him smacking his hand harshly and I drag my body slightly back, but I wince in pain from the little movement.
I then hiss in English, “Don’t touch me, you filthy animal!”
He sneers and hisses at me, “Lass, don’t fight with me right now! You can’t stay here like this! I’m taking you home.”
He then forcefully slides his arms under my body and lifts me up and carries me in his arms.
I want to fight him on it, but the pain is too great when he picks me up, and I start to cry more. Everything is spinning, his face, the ground, the sky...everything.
I feel my eyes rolling in the back of my head, and it isn’t long before I pass out, everything becoming black like the night.
I am awoken by more searing pain and a loud sickening crunch once more. I sit up screaming only to see the man Arvid holding my broken leg that was once bent at an awkward angle except my leg wasn’t bent anymore.
He then lets go of my leg and the woman, Noma, is also there which gives me some comfort. She pushes past her husband to get to me.
I lay back down after the initial pain passes and Noma sits next to me on the bed while Arvid walks away not having any interest in me like usual. I bet he only took on the job of fixing my leg because it would cause me pain.
I pant heavily from the pain, my eyes still wet with tears, and Noma pets my head saying, “Don’t worry, the pain will get better with time. It should heal up soon. I heard from Frey you fell from a tree you were climbing.”
I get quiet, thinking back to Frey and that woman. They were the main reason why I fell from the tree in the first place. If they hadn’t distracted me...I would be fine. I nod my head, and she continues petting my hair.
I then ask her, fearful of her answer, “Will I be able to walk on the leg again?”
If I could only walk on one leg...I would never be able to escape or become a shield maiden.
She smiles slightly, looking down at my injured leg, and she replies, “Of course, you will dear. Though, it might take some time to heal.”
“How long?” I ask her in a worried tone.
“Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe a year,” she states.
“A year?” I ask, shocked before frowning.
I then ask her, “How will I be able to train at all?”
“I don’t know, you might have to wait for that,” she says. “I suppose you can work on your needlework, meanwhile.”
I don’t respond to her; instead, I pout to myself, thinking.
Needlework.
Great.
Perfect.
Sounds exciting.
‘This next year was going to be hell, and this is all Frey’s fault,’ I think in my head, my eyes looking up at the ceiling, and Frey wasn’t even here. He probably went back to finish what he started with that woman.
Everything was always Frey’s fault...he would be sure to pay someday. I will make sure of it.
Chapter 9
Descendants of Fenrir
September 1st, 992 AD
Today was unusually quiet, and I work inside the house by the fire, sewing a rip in one of the men’s tattered shirts as the day comes to an end.
I was told to do it by Noma, saying it would give me something to do as my leg healed. My stupid leg—the first couple weeks were hell. It was nasty, bruised, and swelled up.
I was in pain, and Leif had given me his bed, squishing himself next to his brother, who wasn’t happy at all about that.
They fought when they slept together, and almost every time someone got pushed out of bed, landing on the floor with a loud thud. This normally got their father going. He often tell them to shut up when they started arguing or threaten to kick them out for the night.
Up until today, nothing interesting happened worth telling. Well...other than a small feast that had happened about a month or so ago.
I haven’t even had a run-in with what I now call the “devil’s children” because, well, I couldn’t walk on one of my legs meaning I didn’t leave the house too often and when I did it was with Noma on horseback. No one disrespected Noma.
I was dreading ever seeing that boy, Bard, again or the rest of them for that matter. That single time and some run-ins with them in town were always awkward, and he glared at me with the rest of his group, just like Runa.
I’m sure if they saw my broken leg, they’d see it as a weakness and try to break my other one. I couldn’t predict their behavior because who knows how evil they were?
My encounters with Frey have also been awkward, or he makes it awkward somehow. If our relationship wasn’t strained before, it definitely was now. Ever since I saw him with that woman, that’s all I can think about when I see him most days.
I look down at the shirt I’m sewing, my back leaned up against the wall. My broken leg is straight with a plank of wood and cloth wrapped tightly around it.
Arvid says it will help it to heal and I’m surprised he even helps me here and there when he is home. I can only assume his wife has spoken to him, but that doesn’t mean he likes me.
I also had a visit from Runa during the feast at the mead hall last month. It was quick—she just patted my head slightly and said, “Sorry about the leg. At least it was just one instead of two,” which came out snotty to me.
She then left to eat near Leif.
I realized then she was not chubby by God’s will because she did have an appetite on her. I have never seen a woman eat so much and so messily too.
She eats like a man would, if not worse. She belches like one too, which only made some of the men at the table laugh. How they could laugh was beyond me.
Leif was the cleanest eater at the table and eats very little compared to most of his companions. I was told by Noma, he was always a picky and delicate eater ever since he was a babe.
Which made me think if Leif and Runa were really together how their eating habits were basically the opposite, as well as their body types. Leif was fit and lean, while Runa was chubby and stocky.
Leif is shorter than Frey too, his build slightly different from his brother’s. Frey is taller, as well as having more muscle, but Leif is better at things his brother can’t do.
For instance, I have heard rumors that Frey can’t properly shoot a bow and arrow for the life of him, while Leif is an expert, being the best in the village, even surpassing his own father.
They were just rumors, but I choose to listen to them having nothing better to do these days. I smirk to myself at that. Meaning with some work, I could be better than Frey at something and as I think this the door opens and shuts, the last airs of warm summer breeze waffling in for only a couple seconds.
My eyes glance up to see Frey in brown pants with boots and a dark blue shirt with a leather belt tied around his waist.
He then walks in and informs me, “Mother and father won’t be home for a little while.”
I’m glad I am able to understand him more than I did when I got here. Otherwise, it would be much more difficult.
“Why?” I question, my eyes not meeting his gaze.
His eyes are strangely captivating and piercing—eyes that could belong to a devil of some sort. Bluer than any ocean or sky, eyes that shouldn’t belong to a pagan but perhaps an angel.
The longer I stay, the more his eyes become captivating. He is bewitching and has charm, his sly smirks and grins and all.
It is no wonder women are attracted to him in the village...Ah, here I go thinking back to when I saw him which raises a lot of questions in my head.
Frey isn’t ugly. I was a fool to think so or
deny such a fact. He is more handsome than any man at home that I ever saw, as well as his brother, and even Arvid was in his own way though he was a lot older and aged some.
It was a shame to think these thoughts to myself. I am a Christian. He is a pagan who kidnapped me from my lands, and we were ten years or so apart, but I hear the people here age differently...though that too could be rumors.
He replies to me being blunt about his words, “They’re out having sex in the springs. Believe me, they won’t be back for a while. Take it from my experience waiting for them as a young boy with Leif.”
I feel my cheeks heat, an image of his parents popping in my head that wasn’t pleasant at all. I don’t respond to his words, too embarrassed, and I go to open my mouth before shutting it and focusing on sewing the shirt still, my hands working on their own.
He then changes the topic and drops something on the floor and says, “I brought back dinner.”
My eyes lift from the shirt and on to the floor where I see three dead rabbits, all looking like they’d been grabbed at the throat by sharp teeth.
“Ok,” I say, and he sits down on the bench across from me, and takes out a sharp knife, starting to skin one of the rabbits of its fur. I decide to look away, feeling queasy, and also sorry for the creatures.
Back in my kingdom, I did eat such things like rabbit meat, but I never witnessed first-hand how we obtained it. If I would have known, I think I would have looked at my food a lot differently, like I do now.
Moments pass and he slaps the three skinned creatures into a flat pan, placing it above the fire with two blocks of wood on either side. The orange flame rides upon its sides as the meat starts to sizzle.
Great, he’s going to make it awkward again, I might as well ask him a question that has been prying at my mind lately.
I then ask, still glancing down, “How many women have you…slept with?”
If he’s willing to sleep with one so openly, then there must be other women, and I would like to prepare myself for the future.
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