Page 3 of A Viking Moon

Astrid stood in front of her loom wishing, not for the first time that Freya had provided her with a daughter or two that had survived instead of the seemingly endless number of sons she had borne. Boys are all well and good when they help out in the fields and around the village doing men’s work, but what she really wanted was a daughter to help her run the steading, to do those jobs that all women do and which men take for granted.

  Her husband the Jarl, had bought her two thralls as her position demanded, however both girls were insolent, lazy and more interested in bedding her eldest two sons, as if that was going to be the way to gain their freedom. Hhmph! Over my dead body, anyway the boys understood what would be required of them, the importance of making a good match. Even so, just to be safe I will have word with Geir, he can make it clear to the boys where their responsibilities lie.

  With a heavy sigh she realised that she had been standing in front of the loom for some time, lost in her thoughts. Well this won’t do I have my responsibilities too. Wishing for a daughter to share the load with is not going to get the weaving done, or the spinning or the cooking, or the baking, or the brewing, or the milking of the goats, or the feeding of the geese…

  Astrid picked up the batten on the loom, glanced towards the meal-fire where her thralls were supposed to be preparing the evening meal. Instead they were gossiping and giggling, but a glare from her set them hastily about their tasks, albeit still giggling. Astrid decided to ask Geir to sell one of the thralls and get another, an older one perhaps, one not given to constant fits of giggles.

  Sometime later Astrid put down the batten and surveyed her work. It was going to be a good piece of cloth and would eventually make a fine cloak for her Hakon’s coming of age feast. Rolling her shoulders to work the kinks out of her muscles, she became aware of shouting. Must be Ulf and the other men back from their hunt. Curious to know what they had killed she headed out of the hall. As she stepped out, shielding her eyes from the bright afternoon sunshine, it became immediately obvious that things were not as they should be.

  Usually when men returned from a hunt there would be boasts about the one that got away or a near death experience with a boar of great ferocity, followed by laughter and jesting. But now there was a quiet muttering and several men looked back to the hall where she stood at the entrance. Astrid’s immediate thought went to her husband and sons, something had happened to them, but no that wasn’t possible as Geir had taken the eldest three out fishing and the other two were there by the wood hut where they had just put their latest load of firewood.

  Clearing her throat, she called out, “Ulf? What have you there that it strikes the people dumb? Can we preserve it and bring it out when my boys start their bickering?”

  This brought a few smiles to the faces in front of her and a loud bark of laughter from the one she had addressed. Ulf pushed his way through the crowd pulling behind him a girl. Ulf was Astrid’s cousin, they had grown up together both being the youngest in their respective families and as such found friendship and comfort when their older brothers and sisters couldn’t be bothered. When she exchanged vows with Geir, Ulf had gone off raiding with several other young men from their village. Several years later Ulf had turned up here in Astrid’s new home and had stayed. There were lots of questions Astrid had for Ulf, like why didn’t he go home or why didn’t he take a wife?

  But she didn’t ask, for fear that she wouldn’t like the answer and the trouble it might cause. He was a good man, a friend and one of the few people she trusted with her life and that of her sons and for her that was enough. With her eyebrows raised Astrid looked from the girl to Ulf and back again.

  With a broad smile, Ulf presented the girl to Astrid, “I found her by Freya’s rocks, she is a little, ah, confused, but quite feisty”. Looking at the girl closely and frowning, Astrid asked “Do you have a name?”

  Sarah who up until this point hadn’t muttered a word just looked around her totally gob-smacked. She was in a real live Viking village and no one was wearing a horned helmet. Finding it all a bit much Sarah’s bottom lip began to quiver just a little. Stop it, remember what Nan always says deep breath, head up, look them in the eye.

  “My name is Sarah”, she said. Unconsciously her chin went up and her eyes swept the crowd staring at her before coming back to look boldly at the woman in front of her. Her insides had turned to jelly but Sarah was damn sure this lot weren’t going to see that, even so, she really wished she could sit down before her legs gave out on her.

  Astrid smiled, the girl has backbone. It had not gone unnoticed by her that Sarah had almost given in to the tears. With another frown Astrid looked at Sarah’s clothing, jeans, t-shirt, Doc Martin boots and a hooded sweatshirt. Clothing which had Astrid known would not have looked out of place in a twenty first century shopping centre but to Viking eyes were very odd indeed.

  “Where are you from, who are your people?” asked Astrid.

  “Well, I’m not sure to be honest and quite frankly I don’t really know where I am now.” Sarah had decided that until she knew more about what was going on that she would keep certain information to herself.

  “All I remember is coming to with his spear waggling in my face.” This caused a few titters. Blushing furiously, she realised what she had said. Her mouth went dry but she continued.

  “Anyway, all I remember is my name and that…well that…that there is something else I need to remember and I don’t know what that is.” Sarah’s voice trailed off, Jeez that sounded really lame.

  Astrid raised an eyebrow; she knew when people weren’t telling the whole truth, as the mother of five boys it was skill she had learnt quickly. But she felt that on this occasion, that more would come of it by a softer approach. For a mere moment the thought crossed her mind that only a short while ago she had been weaving and wishing for a daughter and then below Freya’s rocks she was found and brought to her.

  Looking at her arms which had turned to goose flesh, she remembered that there was magic in the weaving. She pulled herself together, for the wife of the Jarl there was no room for such fanciful thoughts, leave that to the skalds. With her eyes on the crowd Astrid made a decision. The oddness of the situation aside, there were rules of hospitality to be maintained and no one was going to accuse her of not adhering to those rules.

  “All of you go back to your work, we will decide what will be done with the girl Sarah this evening when my husband returns.” Then turning to Sarah, she said with a smile, “Welcome Sarah, come inside the hall and sit by the fire, my name is Astrid and I am the wife of Geir, the Jarl of this steading and surrounding lands. For now you are safe. Are you hungry?”

  Sarah smiled back at Astrid, glad of a little mothering and remembering that it had been sometime since she had eaten.

  “Thank you, yes I’m starving and would be grateful for a drink. Those guys sure move fast and I’m knackered,” the words tumbled out of her mouth so quickly and would have kept going had she not physically slapped a hand over her mouth much to Astrid’s amusement.

  Some while later Sarah was sitting by the fire at the centre of the hall, her belly pleasantly full of a lightly spiced fish stew. Astrid had gone to fetch some clothes that were more in keeping with where she was. Looking around her Sarah began to take in her surroundings.

  She was in a large building which, from the material her dad had given her to read on the way to Denmark, she figured was a longhouse and this case, the Jarl’s hall. In the middle was a large stone lined fire pit where she was sitting. At one end of the pit was the pot, from which her stew had come, hanging from a large iron chain that was attached to the roof beam. To the left of the fire was a work area that looked to be the kitchen and at the rear of the hall there was a partitioned area. It all seemed oddly familiar, which she could only assume was a result of the readings her dad had given her.

  The hall itself was quite gloomy, the only light coming from the fire and a number of narrow openings
in the walls. The floor was of earth but hard like concrete with fragrant straw scattered over it. The roof was thatched and had a hole above the fire pit presumably to draw the smoke away, which Sarah realised was not particularly effective.

  Standing up and stretching her muscles she wandered around the hall. Everywhere she looked space was effectively utilized. There were hooks on walls and posts for everything, wooden spades and buckets, coils of rope, cloaks, an axe and several swords.

  Down the sides of the hall there were what looked to be beds. One was covered in furs and had curtains that could be drawn at night and she assumed that this was where Astrid and her husband slept. The others also had furs but were smaller, Astrid had mentioned that Jarl Geir was fishing with her sons so these beds must be for them.

  Several of the posts within the hall were heavily carved with what looked to be snakes or dragons and other fantastical creatures that Sarah did not recognise, she recalled the outside of the hall was just as richly carved and painted.

  On one wall behind a long solid wood table was a beautiful tapestry. Unbeknown to Sarah the tapestry told the story of Iduna the guardian of the golden apples, the fruit taken by the gods whenever they wished to be young again. One day Iduna was lured away from Asgard by Loki and a long winter blanketed the earth. Eventually Iduna was returned to Asgard and the gods were once more able to become young, Spring returning to the earth. Staring intently at the tapestry trying to decipher it, Sarah did not hear Astrid return.

  “I have always liked that story” said Astrid standing at her shoulder. Sarah let out a little squeak and did a funny little hop to the side. Astrid burst out laughing, “My, aren’t you jumpy?” Blushing furiously at her overreaction, Sarah said, “sorry, I don’t know why I did that. I’m sure that I don’t do that kind of thing normally, but then this is not a normal situation for me…or at least I don’t think it is.”

  Astrid smiled kindly and patted Sarah on the arm, “You mustn’t worry yourself too much. We won’t feed you to the wolves or set you upon the sea to fend for yourself. In this steading we pride ourselves in our hospitality and looking after those who need it. Anyway here are some clothes for you to wear, which should stop the stares when you go outside, a little bit at any rate. They’re nothing fancy but perfectly serviceable” said Astrid, holding up the clothes.

  “Thank you Astrid, it’s very kind and the clothes look perfect too,” said Sarah thinking Nan would be pleased with me, I finally remembered my manners.

  Taking the clothes from Astrid, Sarah looked around for somewhere to change and then realized that there was no area for real privacy. Not unlike the dormitory at school Sarah would just have to brave it and change quickly. However, almost immediately a problem arose. These were not clothes that she was familiar with and was not sure what went where or how.

  Astrid had walked over to the kitchen area and was busying herself with something. At that moment two young girls walked into the hall, they stopped and stared at Sarah for a long moment before giggling and walking over to the fire. It was the poke that Sarah needed, the giggling and staring was too reminiscent of school. Not for the first time that day she repeated her mantra, deep breath, head up, look them in the eye. Then turn your back and get dressed, just like at school.

  The first item of clothing seemed to be a long dress made from fine soft wool in a dark green colour and although there were no fasteners, the draw string around the neck allowed for a decent fit. With her back to the room and the women in it, Sarah decided to keep her modern underwear on although she was very aware of several sets of speculative eyes watching her.

  Once the dress was on and securely fastened, the amulet safely tucked out of sight under the high neckline, she turned her attention to the next item Astrid had given her. It was a pale green linen tunic that had a few worn and mended patches. The two pieces of material which made up the front and back were joined together by thin straps that went over the shoulders.

  Then there was a belt (well, she hoped it was a belt) that she tied around her waist and a square piece of material that Sarah assumed, looking at the girls near the fire, was a headscarf. Folding her own clothes neatly in a pile she looked at the footwear that Astrid had provided. Taking a deep breath she called to Astrid.

  “Ahh, Astrid, please I don’t want to offend you but would you mind terribly if I kept my own boots on?”

  Astrid turned and looked at Sarah, well who ever she is, she makes a very pretty maid. “Of course I am not offended, takes more than the rejection of a perfectly good pair of shoes to upset me”.

  Smiling uncertainly Sarah looked at Astrid and when she saw the smile there realized that a joke was being made. Feeling the tension leaving her, she smiled her biggest smile, not yet realising the impact that smile had on the people around her. Astrid came over and gave her a big motherly hug, showed her where to put her meagre belongings and got her to work on preparing the vegetables for the evening meal.

  After a while, Sarah became aware of a commotion going on outside the hall, Astrid looked up from her task and glancing at Sarah said, “Come, it sounds as if my husband and sons are back from their fishing”.

  Astrid led Sarah outside, standing a little behind her Sarah vainly hoped to be inconspicuous. Astrid welcomed home her husband and sons. They were displaying their catch of herring to the village women who came and to take the fish away for preserving. The buzz of activity enabled Sarah to observe Geir and his sons.

  The Jarl was a man that demanded your attention, he stood proud his deep voice laughing at something someone had said, the sound making Sarah’s skin tingle. But what made him more noticeable was the complete lack of hair on the top of his head, so far Sarah had seen very few bald men and this was the first one with no hair at all. However, what he lacked on top was more than compensated by the beard. Steel grey, it was divided into two long plaits that reached his chest. He was certainly impressive.

  There was no doubt that the boys were Geir’s sons, each being a younger version of the Jarl probably as he had been in the various stages of his youth, albeit with hair. The younger of the three had already spotted Sarah and was staring at her intently. Eventually, as the hubbub died down Astrid once more pulled her forward.

  “My lord husband, this is Sarah. Ulf found her just below Freya’s rocks during his recent hunting trip. She seems to have lost quite a bit of her memory and has no recollection of where she is from or how she got here. I have offered her shelter until this little mystery can be solved.” Said Astrid in a tone of voice that Sarah had often heard from her Nan and it was one with which you did not argue.

  “And these, Sarah, are my eldest sons, Eric, Hakon and Leif.” Each boy nodded briefly at Sarah, curiosity burning in their eyes. But it was the Jarl that drew Sarah’s attention. Looking into the piercing blue eyes of the Jarl it took all of Sarah’s resolve not to turn into a jabbering wreck. At this point the amulet, so carefully hidden under her dress began to warm and feeling her spine stiffening she looked the headman in the eye.

  “Was the fishing good, sir?” Sarah asked before she could stop herself.

  “Hah! Yes it was good” Geir replied grinning. The grin suddenly disappeared, his eyes narrowed.

  “Who sent you to spy on us? The Kurs or maybe someone closer to home, eh?” As Geir spoke he stepped closer to Sarah. The crowd of people fell silent. Fear rooted Sarah to the spot but the glowing warmth of the amulet gave her the strength to reply.

  “I am NOT a spy and even if I was I wouldn’t be a very good one if you could find me out so quickly!” Sarah continued to look Geir in the eye, even though what she really wanted to do was hide behind the relative safety of Astrid.

  Everyone held their breath waiting for Geirs judgement. The big grin returned to his face and turning towards his hall he declared, “Astrid, I like her, she can stay, for now”.

  Chapter Three

 
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