Winter Solstice Winter - Book I in the Viking Blood Saga
Silya made good time. She was a clever traveler, seeming to know exactly where to go to find the less-encumbered path. They reached the edge of the Small Mountains and entered the Woodland Forest. The forest floor was flat and easy to travel on. Silya could even pick up a trail here and there, which made walking for both Silya and Miika much more manageable. The Woodland Forest trees were shorter and further apart than in the Northland Forest, most of them lifeless, frozen grey-colored Aspen trees.
After long, they reached the base of a tall mountain.
“This is the Vesten River,” she said, stopping. The wide river was partially frozen over, making it impossible to cross. “If we head further east, we can cross the river at a more narrow point. I do not want to risk crossing here with you, injured and all.”
Ailia thanked her for the consideration. She didn’t want to experience any more injuries or near-drowning incidents. “I have been here with my Uncle Brander and yes, I do remember there’s a narrowing of the river just a little east of here,” she confirmed as she pointed eastward.
“I am going to set up fire, so we can eat here. Then, we can worry about crossing the river later.” Silya started to pull supplies off of Miika and set them down onto the snow. She then reached for Ailia and pulled her off the horse. “Sit on this,” she said, guiding her to the bundle of string-tied reindeer furs.
Ailia took a wobbly step over to the furs and sat down. Right away, Silya started digging at the snow, removing it with her mitten-covered hands. A campfire was soon lit and water was placed in a small kettle to boil.
“I am making reindeer meat stew. It is my specialty,” Silya bragged. She grabbed a small leather packet and started opening it.
“Sounds delicious,” Ailia said enthusiastically. Her stomach had been rumbling for a while.
“My grandmother showed me how to make it. She was very particular about the order to put the ingredients in. I presume it was some type of superstition on her part. May I share with you a story?”
“Certainly,” Ailia said.
“One time, actually the first time I made the stew on my own, I put the reindeer meat in after the carrots and my grandmother threw the whole stew out. Said it was bad luck if we did not do it exactly like she had taught us. She was a great woman, strong willed and obstinate,” Silya said and laughed. “She just held many superstitions.” After she had unwrapped the package, she started meticulously pulling apart the dried meat that was in it, tossing it into the kettle of hot water. She then added some spices, leaves and some old gnarly looking potatoes.
Ailia wondered if they were safe to eat, but she didn’t say anything.
“One day, Grandmother left the house to go to the market, which was about a third of a day’s travel away. When she was almost to the market, she remembered she had not had anyone throw a cup of water after her when she left. She believed if someone did not do this, it would mean bad luck for her journey. She turned around immediately and traveled all the way back home. When she arrived, she opened the tent door and announced, “See, it was bad luck that no one threw water after me in my direction. I had to travel all the way home and missed the market!”” Silya said in a nasally, angry voice.
Ailia laughed. “My Aunt Unni is also somewhat superstitious. When I was younger, she would never allow me to whistle inside the house. She said if I did, someone would die somewhere in Midgard.” They both laughed.
When they had finished eating their humble meal, Silya gathered up the dirty dishes.
“Let me help you clean them,” Ailia insisted, as she took a plate and started rinsing it in the snow.
Silya loaded the horse and put out the fire by stomping on it.
As Ailia was finishing up with the dishes, she started thinking about some of the things Silya had mentioned earlier. “What role does the Sun Queen play in all of this?”
“Oh, yes, I nearly forgot. The Sun Queen is the only person who can initiate the Aesira Jewel with Iluxia. Iluxia holds the key to the Jewel. To be a Sun Queen, you have to be a direct descendant of the Aesira bloodline. Princess Lucia is the only one who has that blood running through her veins.”
“Soren told me a little about it,” Ailia said.
“It is the pure bloodline from the beginning of Midgard and the only bloodline directly tied to Iluxia, but that is a whole other story I do not know much about,” Silya admitted. She paused, gazing toward the Trollstein Mountains. “We are just about one and a half day’s journey from Bergendal.” She removed her hat and revealed her thick waist-length black hair. She pulled a comb out of the purse and ran it through the knots a dozen or so times. She twirled a tan piece of leather string around her hair to make a perfect ponytail and put her red and white wool hat back on. Silya was more beautiful to look at than Ailia had initially thought. Her costume aged her, making her look ten years older than she was. Her smooth olive-colored skin was flawless and her almond eyes tilted slightly up at the edges.
“It looks like it is snowing in Bergendal. The clouds are not heading in this direction, more east.” She nodded in agreement with herself and then looked at Ailia who had finished the dishes. “Ready?”
“Yes,” Ailia replied. She was more than ready to be home again. Will my family still be there? She hardly dared think the thought, afraid something could have happened to them.
Silya gathered the clean dishes, put them in her leather bag and tied the bag onto Miika. “Let me help you get onto the horse again,” she said.
“Have you ever met a Viking?” Ailia asked after she had settled back onto Miika. “I’ve decided I never want to meet one.”
“Yes, I will never forget the day I did. It changed my life forever.”
“What happened?” Ailia wondered.
She paused for a long while. “It is a long, gruesome story; are you sure you want to hear?”
“Yes, please. If you don’t mind, of course,” Ailia said, not deterred by Silya’s warning.
Silya walked on for a while in silence before she spoke. “Our people had been driven from their land by the barbarians of the south, left without homes, lands, or rights. It was a time before the Vikings had a name, a time when such plundering, murders and rapes were uncommon, especially among the peaceable Sami people. The unnamed savages came upon us one winter. The first thing they did was amass the youngest of the young, piling them as logs one on top of another, crying, screaming with their aching voices, freezing, naked on the snow. They grabbed each infant by the ankles, flinging the poor newborn into the air, running to impale the child on the tips of their swords.” She sucked in a sharp breath before continuing. “I have never been able to erase the images from my memory, or the feelings of fear, rage and compassion from my heart—rage and fear for the Vikings and compassion for the babies. The horror of such a thing ever happening to one of my own children frightened me into never birthing any.”
Ailia had never heard of such horridness. “That’s awful!” she said.
“Among the children—” Silya continued. “—was my newborn baby brother, Hansa. He was the most beautiful child you could imagine, with black coarse hair and steel blue eyes. His olive complexion looked golden in the sunlight on the autumn day he came to be birthed. My mother, so proud for having produced a son after three daughters, treasured him beyond compare. His first tooth had just appeared the winter the word arrived that cruel raiders were heading in our direction. How could we have known what cruel meant, being a nonviolent people, living simply in our tents, with our reindeer, desiring nothing more of life?
“Living secure from the schemes of men, protected against their maliciousness by the gods, we had cultivated a thing of immeasurable challenge: that nothing remained ever to be wanted. After the destruction of our land, I had prayed to the guardian of children and asked the only questions my young mind could: Why and how? Why did this happen to us? Why did they do it? How could the gods let this happen to us, to my baby brother? When I approached the Noaidi, our spiritual guide, his response
had been clear. He said,
‘It is easy to blame the person responsible for the crime, to hate them and despise them, but when we sit idly by and watch evil happen right before our very eyes and become bound to the person by hate, we become co-conspirators of the wrong. It is a weighty responsibility within each of us to stand up at our time of appointment and fight the battle, so the guilty does not wrongfully and unaware by us, become the power and reigning force and rulers of our lives.
‘Sometimes to have peace, Silya—’ he had said. ‘—We must fight and even be willing to sacrifice our own lives to stand for what we know in our very soul is right and just. And when we choose to fight that battle and not hate, but rather have faith in truth, in love and in right, we align with our Creator. We become our true selves, the complete form our Maker intended and purposefully created us to be.’”
“That’s so true, but so difficult,” Ailia said.
“At first, I rejected his answer, of course. How could I have done anything other than watch idly by?” Silya said. “I was a victim, bound and bruised, forced to watch while they destroyed precious lives with their gruesome games. Now, years later, I have had a change of heart and understand what he meant. Each day I live, I will fight exactly that battle, choosing faith and not turning to the cunning pulls and calls of fear, hate and revenge. I desire to be free from these demons, which incessantly hound my peace.” She paused and a tear rolled down her cheek. “I can still not stop mourning my brother’s death. I hope one day, when I die, I can meet him again and let him know that his life mattered—that I loved him and that he had a positive influence in my life because he lived.”
Ailia felt honored to be in such a wise woman’s presence. How had Silya been able to forgive such a horrible act as this one? Ailia would have shrunk, she knew, unable to be so strong.
“You are a strong woman, Silya, with a heart of light,” Ailia said.
Silya looked up. “One day, it will all be set right by the Great Sentinor.”
Ailia definitely didn’t envy the Great Sentinor’s immense responsibility.
18
Heim