The Viking Maiden Box Set

by Kelly N. Jane

  She turned and caught the eyes of Jorg, who had apparently been staring at her. He appeared as if he wanted to approach her, but then he turned and stomped out through the doors.

  Blowing a sigh out of her nose, Ingrid shook her head. She didn’t have the energy to figure out what she might have done to make Hagen’s friends mad at her right then. She walked to her room at the back of the longhouse, and changed into her nightclothes, certain she would not be able to sleep that night. Maybe ever again.

  3

  The next day, Ingrid plopped down on the bench outside the front doors of the longhouse, and waited for the men to gather in the open meeting area. Shielded from a wet drizzle by the roof’s overhang, she busied her hands straightening a basket of wool with a set of combs, preparing it to be spun later. The village well sat near the center of the meeting space and was always busy with people. It made for a good distraction.

  About twenty boats, tied to the wooden docks or simply anchored, rocked in the gentle waters of the bay beyond the well; all of them unique, built based on the family that owned them. The biggest one, her father’s, sat tall and majestic, ready at a moment’s request to head down the river and out to sea. It had a giant dragon head carved into both ends, looking as if it could devour anything in its path.

  Ingrid shuddered at such a creature existing in real life.

  She grabbed a big piece of raw wool from her basket, and used the paddle-like combs, spiked on one side, to pull the tangled fibers in the same direction. When one section was finished, she set the straightened wool down into a waiting basket on her left, and picked up another handful of lumpy wool from her right. Over and over and over. It was a good job to occupy her while she waited for the men to gather. She also knew Selby would be showing up, so she watched the people milling around.

  Hagen’s group walked around the corner across from her. His three closest friends—the ‘Stink Brothers’, as Ingrid called them, and Jorg—never seemed far from his side.

  Sten and Ove were older and younger than Hagen, respectively, but neither could plan an intelligent idea on their own. Sometimes, if they worked together, they could come up with one that might make sense, but that was a rare occasion. They were tall and well-muscled, and that’s all they counted on, constantly rushing into fights without hesitation.

  You two are so lucky that Hagen let you follow him around when we were all too young to know better.

  Their hulking size and long, unkempt, dirt-brown hair, which included full, bushy beards, made them look more like shaggy pets than boys. Ingrid giggled, imagining what animals they might be. As she exchanged another chunk of wool, she peered again at the group of boys, and continued her musings.

  Jorg was different. His family had moved to the village only four years before. Shy and quiet, Jorg was welcomed by Hagen as if by a brother, and they became inseparable. Both boys used to be around Selby’s height, but over the winter, they had grown two heads taller than her.

  Hagen was now about the same height as their father and, while not as filled in, his broad shoulders and muscled arms and legs would equal that of their imposing patriarch soon. Jorg was a couple inches taller than Hagen; though he was not as thick through the shoulders, he still wore an equal amount of muscle on his body.

  At this observation, Ingrid almost dropped the combs from her hands, and she took a deep breath to clear her head a little. Then she peeked at Jorg again, casually.

  He wore his dark brown hair shorter than most of the other men, to just below his chin, and left it unbound to show the waves it carried. Among so many hairy men in the village, his smooth, creamy skin, revealing the one dimple on his left cheek, stood out like a glowing beacon. His eyebrows had an arch to them that, with his dark lashes, framed his hazel eyes nicely over his perfectly straight, unbroken nose.

  Ingrid let out a huff of air. Lost deep in her thoughts, she hadn’t realized that Selby had joined her on the bench.

  “What was that sigh for?” Selby asked with a wicked little grin, making Ingrid jump. “And I believe that wool is a lost cause.”

  The fibers Ingrid had been working on were now a tangled mess. She looked at her best friend, and shrugged her shoulders the tiniest bit. “Oops.” They both laughed as she tucked that piece down along the side of her finished basket. She’d deal with it later. “And I did not sigh.”

  “Oh, yes you did. I'll bet it had something to do with a certain handsome friend of your brother’s over there.”

  “Jorg? He’s not handsome,” she lied.

  “Yes he is! He’s beautiful—in a manly sort of way, of course.” Selby grabbed a piece of wool, and used her own set of combs to help Ingrid whittle down the pile.

  “He is one of Hagen’s friends; I don’t pay much attention to him.” The need to defend herself prickled her nerves. “What’s more, he has picked on me as much as Hagen over the years, and I don’t see him as anything other than a pest.”

  “Yeah, right. Whatever you say, my lying-to-herself friend. It doesn’t matter—Hagen’s still cuter.”

  Selby had had a crush on Ingrid’s brother since they were about seven, and it still held her captive though they’d reached their teens.

  Her friend pulled in a deep breath and let it out with a little whine.

  “Now that was a sigh,” Ingrid laughed. “You need to stop hurting yourself about him.”

  Hagen had never known about, or at least acknowledged, Selby’s crush on him; he was all eyes for her tall, slender, beautiful sister, Helka. She returned the attention, too, which thrilled both sets of parents. Hagen would take over for his father one day, and Helka had also been raised to be a leader.

  “I know. I will, someday, if anyone better comes along,” she smirked.

  "You think about boys too much." Ingrid teased her friend, even though she found it happening to herself more and more lately.

  She glanced back over at the boys, and swallowed hard when she noticed Jorg’s gaze on her. He grinned and looked away. Her heartbeat raced, and the paddles nearly slipped from her slick palms.

  “Uh-huh. I think about boys too much. Yep, just me.” Selby jabbed her elbow into Ingrid’s side, making her yelp and scoot down the bench a little.

  They both broke into giggles as more and more men milled around the center.

  “Did you get any sleep last night?” Ingrid changed the subject.

  “Not much.”

  “Me either.”

  An involuntary shudder shook both girls.

  “Do you think dragons have really returned after all these years?” Ingrid asked.

  “It sure sounded like it. Poor Nels. Can you imagine being eaten?” Selby stared off into space, her full eyebrows squished together and her mouth turned down into a frown.

  “Don’t say that. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe it dropped him somewhere.”

  “It's nice that you have hope, but I don’t think you’re right.”

  Ingrid’s father walked up to the gathered group of men, and the girls put their combs aside to get closer to the crowd. A wave of nausea hit Ingrid as the smell of sweaty bodies and wet furs flooded her senses. She squished her way through the crowd, and stepped into the open air, next to Klaus. Selby arrived a half-second later and stuck her tongue out in an imitation of gagging.

  Bath day was not for two more days.

  Ingrid smiled at her friend’s play, and nodded, then turned her full attention to what her father had to say.

  “The information we have been brought is too important and dire to ignore. If the dragons are returning, there is more at play here than we may know. I think it would be best to send word to all the leaders . . . This must be addressed by every clan, for no one is safe. We will call for an emergency meeting in Jorvik.”

  Cheers and conversations erupted throughout the crowd. People were excited to take action, rather than wait for more disaster to strike.

  Raising his hands, the chieftain quieted them again. “I will send messengers today, b
ut we shouldn’t delay our departure. Only three boats will make the journey; there is no need to pull all of our men and leave the village vulnerable.”

  He selected two other boat owners from the crowd.

  “Settle your families, load your supplies, and meet back here in the morning. We leave at first light,” he concluded.

  Roars of approval rose into the clouded sky. Ingrid felt the bloom of a thought spread throughout her mind and warm her body. Years of being held back and left out exploded into a crazy idea. She grabbed Selby’s hand, and pulled her away from the group, dragging her behind a pile of wooden crates and briny smelling fish nets. A quick check of the area proved they were alone.

  “We’re going to Jorvik.” The words rushed out, and Ingrid could feel the flush of excitement in her cheeks, and the tingles that buzzed her skin while she paced in front of Selby, her hands on her hips.

  Selby let her jaw drop open. “What?” She looked back over her shoulder to be sure the rebelliousness hadn’t been overheard.

  “I’m tired of no one believing that I can be a warrior. If we go to Jorvik with the men, they will have to treat us as adults. Then we can help find the dragons!” Ingrid bounced on the balls of her feet.

  “Our fathers will never let us go. Mine wouldn’t even let me join the search party when I asked. How do you expect to persuade them to let us go on a trip like this?” Selby demanded.

  “We’re not going to ask.” Ingrid stared into Selby’s rich brown eyes, which had gone wide to match the open hole of her mouth. “Don’t you want the adventure?” Ingrid pressed. “You are as strong a warrior as Helka, but no one in your family notices. This way, we have a chance for glory, to have our stories told around the fire.”

  “How would we do that?” She looked around, trying to process Ingrid’s idea, and fidgeted with her necklace, rolling a bead between her fingers. “We’d have to sneak onto the boats, and we’d get caught in seconds. They would only throw us back on the docks, if we’re lucky. You would be fine, but you know how my father is; I’d be left with stripes on my backside.”

  “We won’t get caught. We’ll sneak on board when they’re loading—act like we are helping—then, when no one is watching, we’ll hide. When the boats are too far down the river to turn back, we’ll come out, and they’ll have to let us stay.” Ingrid paced and rubbed her hands on her thighs, rolling her lip between her teeth as she thought through her plan. “It’ll work. We’d just have to be really quiet and find a place that no one will check for a while.”

  “You’re mad—and that's coming from me.”

  “Maybe, but we’re doing this. I’m not getting left behind. Besides . . . Jorvik. How can you not want to see it?”

  “I want to. It’s just . . . where would we hide? What would my family think? My father isn’t going, so they wouldn’t know where I am or what happened to me.”

  “They would figure it out, I’m sure. My mother will talk to them, and they will be fine.”

  “I don’t think I should go.” Selby crossed her arms over her stomach, and the middle finger of her right hand picked at her thumb.

  “It will work out. I know it. Don’t fuss over it so much.” She’ll thank me when everyone cheers for us later.

  Ingrid’s smile stretched across her face, and she bit down hard on her bottom lip. They were going on the boats with the men. No one would treat them like weak, little girls after they returned. They were going to see the Capitol and would have stories to tell.

  We’ll be heroes.

  They resumed combing their wool, as if they were not planning the adventure of a lifetime. For at least half an hour neither said anything—an unheard of circumstance since they’d become friends as toddlers.

  Hagen and the Stinks started to pass the girls to go into the house, when Hagen stepped back and stared at them.

  “Why are you two so quiet?”

  “We’re busy,” Ingrid said.

  “No, you’re not. You could both do that in your sleep. What’s up?” He narrowed his eyes at each girl in turn, but settled his stare on Selby, knowing she’d be the easier one to crack.

  “Don’t knock it. It’s about time they shut up anyway,” the older Stink taunted.

  At least, Ingrid thought it was the older; she didn’t bother to look. She rolled her eyes and kept to her work.

  Selby couldn’t help but take the bait. “You should try it. Then maybe you wouldn’t have so many people wanting to kick your arse all the time.” Ingrid nudged her, worried she’d get going and forget to keep their plans secret, but Selby ignored her. “You’re missing one of your followers, aren’t you? Didn’t think any of you went anywhere alone.”

  Oh man, I’d rather she talk about sneaking on the boats. Don’t ask about Jorg!

  “Why? You worried you won’t see him before he leaves in the morning? Maybe you should offer him a kiss goodbye.” Brother number two laughed at his own comment.

  “Shut up,” Hagen scolded his friend, but bit the inside of his lip to keep from smiling. He looked back at the girls. “You two are never quiet, but I’ll let you keep your secrets. We have work to do before we leave in the morning. Oh, and if you are worried where Jorg is, he went home to get his stuff ready. He’s staying with us tonight.” He smirked at Ingrid, who had snapped her head up at the information. Then all three boys walked into the house.

  She slapped Selby on the arm, and growled at her. “Why did you have to ask about Jorg?

  “I was changing the subject so that Hagen wouldn’t ask any more questions. I was afraid I might say something to those idiots and ruin our plans. They always know how to push my buttons. Besides, why do you care? They thought I wanted to know about him.”

  “Hagen didn’t. Just don’t do it again. Good job keeping your mouth shut about our plans, though.” Thank the gods for small miracles. “Maybe you should stay here with me tonight,” Ingrid suggested. “It would be easier for us to get on the boats together that way.”

  “I was thinking that, too. Since my father isn’t going, I’d rather not be at home.” Selby fiddled with her thumbs.

  “Do you think he’s angry about staying?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure he expected to go.”

  “So you’ll stay here. Then as soon as they start loading the boats, we go and help. I’ve never been on one before, have you?”

  “No. I’m not allowed. ‘It’s for the men’.” Selby used a husky voice in a mocking, male tone.

  “We’ll have to guess at where to hide, then. Behind kegs or under something.”

  The girls continued planning, trying to figure out what they would take with them and how they would get it on board. They were so deep in their conversation that they didn’t notice the extra activity building up around the docks until someone shouted, and a small argument broke out.

  “They’re loading already.” Ingrid jumped up and tossed her combs into her basket. “They’ll have the boats ready tonight to sail out at dawn. What are we going to do?”

  “Think. We can figure out something. Maybe we just have to sneak on early?”

  Ingrid started pacing and biting her lip. This has to work. I am not staying behind. This is the perfect chance to prove myself. “You’re right. We need to get on early, but not in the morning. We should do it tonight so we don’t risk being late.” She stopped in front of Selby and smiled. “I’ve got it. I’ll say I’m staying with you tonight, and you say you’re staying with me. Then we’ll get on the boat after dark.”

  “And no one will miss us in the morning, because they’ll think we’re just still at each other’s house. Perfect.”

  “We need to go home and gather our stuff. When you come back for dinner; we’ll eat, and then leave after that.”

  Selby put both hands over her mouth, but it didn’t hide the wide smile on her face. “We are really doing this,” she said behind her fingers.

  Ingrid nodded and gave her a quick hug before gathering up her baskets and heading inside t
o pack.

  Her stomach started to wobble, but her heart soared.

  The village was a blur of activity all afternoon. Like busy ants storing food for the winter, those who were going on the voyage bustled about, packing their boats. Small, wooden planks bounced up and down as large bodies hurried supplies onto the ships. Taut ropes creaked as they rubbed against the hulls. Those who would be staying behind helped to make sure they were prepared to function with fewer men.

  Ingrid and Selby made themselves useful so they could watch how the boats were loaded. The smooth, wooden sides of the boats rose high out of the water in a crescent shape. Ingrid craned her neck to see inside, but even at the lowest point the boats rocked with the bustle of motion, the sides were still too high for a peek.

  “Papa, can I take this onto the boat for you? It’s a crate of extra linens that mother packed,” Ingrid called to her father, who was standing in the ship near the main mast.

  “Leave it there on the docks, and I’ll have it brought onboard.”

  “Oh. Okay.” She put the crate on the dock, and turned to walk back toward the village.

  “Ingrid.”

  Turning, she looked up at her father. “Yes, Papa?”

  “Would you like to come and see what the boat looks like?” He smiled at her.

  “Oh, yes! Thank you.”

  Running to the plank laid from the docks to the ship’s edge, she stood at the bottom, gained her balance, and walked slowly up the small, unsteady board. As she made it to the top, her father reached out his hand and pulled her over the rail.

  “It’s so much bigger than I thought it was,” she admitted as she looked around.

  “It has to hold forty men plus supplies.”

  Each crewman brought his own trunk of personal items and they ran down each side of the hull. They doubled as benches where the men sat to work the oars to propel the boat through the calm river waters. Ingrid looked back toward the dock, but her head only poked above the side rail when she stretched high on her toes. The mast held the one large sail that was the boat’s main power. At both ends, there were raised platforms where supplies were stored below and men could sit above.