Viking Warrior

by Connie Mason

  Reyna glanced at the medicinal chest beneath her shelter, filled with everything her mother thought she might need to treat what ever ills were visited upon Wulf’s family. “I pray my skills are sufficient.”

  “Your skills are considerable,” Wulf said as he came up to join them.

  Reyna started at the sound of his voice. “I remember the last time I arrived at your farmstead,” she reminisced. She glared at him. “It was not a happy occasion, if you recall.”

  Olaf glanced between the two antagonists and walked away.

  “You endeared yourself to my family and to me,” Wulf murmured in her ear. “We all grew fond of you.”

  She glared up at him. “Fond? Fond? Forgive me for wanting more from you, Wulf.”

  Turning on her heel, she entered her shelter and pulled the curtain across the opening. She didn’t reappear until she heard cries of shock and anger. She shoved aside the curtain and rushed out on deck. One look at Wulf and Olaf told her something unexpected was causing havoc among the crew.

  “What is it? What’s happened?” Reyna cried.

  Wulf pointed toward the landing. “There is a foreign longboat beached where only our dragonships should be. We know not whether they are friend or foe.”

  “Foe,” Olaf said through clenched teeth. “Finn raiders by the look of their longboat. Something is amiss.”

  Immediately the Norsemen took their places on the benches, grabbed up the oars and rowed toward the shore. They beached the dragonship beside the longboat.

  Wulf lifted Reyna from the dragonship and set her down on the ground. “Stay here until I return for you. I don’t know what mayhem we will find…” His sentence fell off at a shout from Olaf.

  “Listen!” Olaf exclaimed, placing a constraining hand on Wulf’s arm. “Do you hear that?”

  The blood froze in Wulf’s veins when he heard the familiar sounds of a battle being waged. The clash of swords and battle-axes, voices raised in rage and cries of pain all mingled to provide an ugly picture of what was taking place at the farmstead.

  “To arms!” Wulf shouted as he raised his sword and battle-axe, and prepared to rush to his family’s defense.

  “Wait!” Reyna cried. “If I’m to remain here, give me a sword or dagger, something with which to defend myself.”

  “Find Reyna a sword,” Wulf ordered Olaf moments before he raced off toward the farmstead.

  Olaf returned to the dragonship, pulled out a sword from under a canvas and thrust it into Reyna’s hands before running off to join his comrades.

  Wulf’s fear escalated when he thought of the too few warriors left to defend the farmstead; Hagar and Eric and a handful of kraals. Without sufficient warning, they would be badly outnumbered and their women in danger.

  The Norsemen burst upon a scene of utter chaos. One glance told Wulf that a few kraals had indeed joined the fight to repel the raiders but not in sufficient numbers to make a difference against the murderous horde of marauding Finns bent on gaining plunder and slaves.

  Wulf let out a Viking war cry loud enough to pierce the sounds of battle then waded into the fray, wielding a sword in one hand and battle-axe in the other.

  Reyna paced the shore, listening to the din of battle and wondering what was taking place. Remaining behind while Wulf and the others fought for their lives was not to her liking. She waited for as long as she could then, clutching her sword, she advanced resolutely toward the farmstead.

  Her first glimpse of the battle raging violently outside the hall revealed just how desperately the returning Norsemen were needed. A second glance revealed Helga and Inga, true Norsewomen to the core, standing shoulder to shoulder near the front entrance of the hall, armed and ready to defend their home against enemy raiders.

  Eric appeared to have suffered a sword cut to his arm and blood was streaming down Hagar’s temple from a head wound. But from the look of the Finns, they appeared to have fared no better. Now, with the returning Norsemen joining in the fray, the tide seemed to be turning.

  Reyna kept her distance, waiting to see where or if her sword arm was needed. After a few moments of observing from the sidelines, she decided to lend her help to Helga and Inga. But as she made her way around the perimeter of the battlefield, she saw two Finns converge on Wulf, one from the front and one from behind. Wulf immediately reacted to the frontal attack.

  Reyna, however, saw what Wulf did not. She screamed his name, but could scarcely hear her own voice above the din of battle. Without a thought for her own safety, Reyna ducked and dodged swords and battle-axes to reach Wulf before it was too late. Then, horrors of all horrors, just as Wulf handily dispatched his opponent, the warrior behind him thrust his sword into Wulf’s back. Wulf staggered a few steps, then spiraled to the ground.

  “Reyna,” he gasped, raising himself slightly when he saw her leap out of nowhere, lift her sword over his attacker’s head and bring it down.

  Outrage lent strength to Reyna’s arms as she swung her sword at the cowardly Finn raider and struck him down with one vicious slice. Ignoring the bleeding Finn at her feet, Reyna stepped over him and dropped to her knees beside Wulf. He met her concerned gaze before his eyes glazed over and his head dropped down on the hard ground. Her fear for Wulf’s life escalated when Reyna saw the blood pooling beneath him. Then Hagar and Olaf were beside her, lifting Wulf between them and dragging him into the hall.

  The Norsemen had broken the back of the raid. Outnumbered and reeling in defeat, the Finns began retreating toward the fjord and their longboat. The Norsemen gave chase, determined to slay them before they reached the fjord. Reyna paid little heed as she followed Hagar, Olaf and Wulf into the hall.

  Helga and Inga parted to let them pass, then followed them inside.

  “Is Wulf all right?” Helga asked anxiously.

  “I won’t know until I examine him,” Reyna threw over her shoulder. “Place him on his stomach on a bench and send someone to the ship for my medicinal chest,” she ordered crisply. Olaf passed the order on to a thrall and rejoined them.

  “We need to get him out of his blood-soaked clothing so you can inspect his wound,” Hagar said, handing Reyna his short blade. “Olaf and I will lift him while you cut away his tunic and fur vest.”

  Once that task was completed, Reyna bent over the jagged wound in Wulf’s back.

  “Is the danger over?” The question came from Olga. She stood outside Thora’s sleeping alcove, holding her son protectively in her arms. After assessing the situation, she rushed over to where the family was gathered around Wulf. “Olaf, you have returned! And you brought Wulf and Reyna with you.” Her gaze settled on Wulf, lying prone on the bench, still bleeding from his wound. “What happened to him? Will he be all right?”

  “Wulf has been wounded,” Hagar explained. “We don’t know how badly yet.”

  “Have the Finns been driven off?”

  “Aye, thanks to my brothers’ timely return,” Hagar said. “If not for the additional men, we would not have prevailed.”

  Olga’s gaze rested on Reyna. “Thank you for coming, Reyna. Thora’s condition has worsened. We desperately need your healing skills. And now this,” she said, gesturing toward Wulf. “Can you save him?”

  Wulf’s muffled words startled them. “I am not dead yet.”

  “You are conscious,” Reyna breathed. “Thank Freya. Lie still, Wulf. The bleeding has slowed; that’s a good sign. As soon as my medicinal chest arrives, I will give you something for the pain.” To Helga she said, “I will need hot water and clean cloths.”

  Helga raced off.

  “Reyna, you…you looked like a Viking warrior woman, swooping down to slay the enemy,” Wulf said in a voice laced with pain. “You should have stayed where it was safe.”

  “I could not. I had to know what was taking place and lend help where I could. I am sorry I did not reach you in time.”

  Wulf grunted as Reyna examined the wound more closely. “How does it look?” he asked.

  “

’tis not life threatening. I will know more once the wound is cleaned.”

  The thrall returned with the medicinal chest at the same time Helga arrived with a bowl of hot water and a stack of clean linen cloths.

  “What is happening?” asked Thora, her voice barely audible through the thick curtain of the sleeping alcove.

  “I had best go to her,” Olga said. “She will want to know what is happening. She is too weak to leave her bed.”

  “I will go with you,” Hagar said. “Mother will be pleased to know her wayward sons have returned. Olaf, you and Eric take charge of the cleanup outside. The girls can help Reyna. No sense all of us hovering over Wulf while Reyna does what is necessary to heal him.”

  “You are wounded, and so are Eric and Olaf,” Helga cried.

  “ ’tis naught compared to Wulf’s wound,” Hagar replied. “You can wash away the blood before I go in to see Mother. My brothers are capable of caring for themselves. Their wounds and mine are minor.”

  Reyna paid little heed to what was going on around her as she carefully cleaned Wulf’s wound and sprinkled dill seeds from her medicinal chest into the open slash.

  “I will need to close the wound,” Reyna muttered to herself.

  “Do it and get it over with,” Wulf groaned.

  Turning toward her chest, Reyna saw that Inga had already threaded a needle that one of Reyna’s brothers had brought back from Byzantium.

  “Thank you,” Reyna said, taking the threaded needle from Inga.

  Concentrating on Wulf’s wound, Reyna pierced his skin with the needle, glanced once at his face and then began making small neat stitches, until the wound was closed and the bleeding contained. Once she had finished, she sat back on her haunches and inspected her work.

  “Are you finished?” Wulf asked weakly.

  “Aye, are you all right?”

  “I have been better.”

  “Do not move while I spread a healing salve over the wound and apply a bandage.”

  Reaching into her chest, Reyna removed a small jar of salve made from dried marigold mixed with lard. Once the salve was spread to her satisfaction, she made a thick bandage out of linen, placed it over the wound and wound strips of linen around Wulf’s chest to hold it in place.

  Reyna stood, rummaged in her chest until she found a small sack, and then handed it to Helga. “Brew this into a strong tea, let it steep until the color is a deep brown; then bring it to me.”

  “What is it?” Helga asked.

  “Valerian. It will ease Wulf’s pain.”

  “I don’t need anything for pain,” Wulf mumbled.

  “Do not argue with me,” Reyna said sternly.

  “Is my brother misbehaving?” Hagar asked as he rejoined them.

  “He needs to learn that I am the healer and he is the patient,” Reyna said impatiently. “Help him to sit up, Hagar, so he can drink the brew Helga is preparing for him.”

  Hagar eased Wulf into a sitting position. Wulf wobbled a bit, but with his brother’s help managed to remain upright.

  “How long do I have before fever sets in?” Wulf asked.

  “I hope my herbal salve will prevent infection. If a fever does develop, I will fight it with proven herbal remedies. How is your mother, Hagar?”

  “The news that Wulf and Olaf have returned, and that you were with them, cheered her considerably. After you work your magic on Wulf, perhaps you can look in on her.”

  “ ’tis why I am here,” Reyna replied.

  Wulf turned his brooding gaze on Reyna. “Have you forgotten the words we spoke before your family? We are husband and wife.”

  “You and Wulf are wed?” Hagar asked, looking to Reyna for confirmation.

  “For now,” Reyna muttered.

  “But Wulf just said…”

  His words fell off when Helga returned with a cup of steaming tea and handed it to Reyna. “Does this look right to you?” Helga asked.

  “Perfect,” Reyna declared as she held the cup to Wulf’s mouth. “Drink it all, Wulf. Then Hagar can help you to bed.”

  “I wish to return to my own bed in my own hall,” Wulf said.

  “No,” Reyna was quick to reply. “If I am to treat both you and Thora, I will need the two of you in the same place.”

  “Olaf and Eric can stay in Wulf’s hall and Wulf can occupy their sleeping alcove as long as needed,” Hagar offered. “Now drink the tea, Wulf.”

  Though Wulf’s hands were unsteady, he grasped the cup from Reyna and drank, handing the empty cup to her when he finished. “Perhaps you should help me to my bed now, Hagar,” Wulf said groggily.

  Reyna watched with trepidation as Hagar half carried, half dragged Wulf to the sleeping alcove he was to occupy. Once he was safely inside, she collapsed onto the bench, rested her head against the wall and closed her eyes. When she had first seen Wulf struck down, her emotions had had been pulled between rage and fear. Rage sent her flying into the fray to slay Wulf’s attacker, and fear that he would die gave her the strength to react. Now Reyna was exhausted, but she had no time to rest. She still had to wash Wulf’s bloód from her hands and check on Thora.

  “What do you need?” Helga asked anxiously. “You look so weary. Inga is preparing a bed for you.”

  “First I want to check on your mother. A basin of hot water and soap would be appreciated. I cannot go to your mother with blood on my hands.”

  Helga left and returned with a basin of hot water, a pot of soft soap and a drying cloth. Reyna smiled her thanks and thoroughly scrubbed and dried her hands and arms. Then she walked to Thora’s sleeping alcove, parted the curtain and stepped inside. Shock lanced through Reyna. Once robust, Thora looked a mere shadow of herself. Her complexion was too pale, her cheeks sunken and her eyes appeared too big for her face. Reyna hurried to her bedside and took her hand.

  Thora opened her eyes, saw Reyna and smiled. “Are my sons truly safe?” Thora asked.

  “Aye, Olaf has returned hale and hardy. Wulf was wounded while fighting the raiders but I expect him to make a full recovery. The rest of the family is fine but for a few minor wounds.”

  “So Hagar said, but I wanted to be sure. Will you tell me what happened when you and Wulf disappeared? Hagar almost had a fit when he learned that Olaf had sailed across the sea to rescue Wulf in the middle of winter. We were all afraid we had lost two sons instead of one.”

  Then Thora launched into a paroxysm of coughing that left her weak and wheezing for breath.

  “Do not exert yourself Thora, I beg you,” Reyna pleaded. “I will tell you everything you wish to know after I prepare an infusion of herbs to ease your cough and help you relax.”

  Reyna left Thora’s sleeping alcove and sent Inga in to sit with her mother while she removed what she needed from her medicinal chest. Working on a table near the hearth, Reyna measured out portions of two different dried herbs and tossed them into a kettle of boiling water. While the infusion steeped, she returned to Wulf’s bedside to check on him.

  She found Wulf lying on his stomach, a fur pelt thrown over the lower half of his body and his eyes closed. She sidled closer and placed a hand on his cheek, checking for fever. He was still cool to her touch. Just as she started to withdraw, Wulf’s eyes snapped open, and he grasped her arm.

  “Do not go.”

  “You are still awake.”

  “Aye, barely. Why do you do it?”

  Puzzled, Reyna asked, “Do what?”

  “Make a habit of coming to my defense.”

  Reyna shrugged. “I thought the Finn had killed you and I wanted to avenge your death.”

  “You thought me dead?”

  “I did not know but feared the worst.”

  “I live a charmed life.” He tugged on her arm. “Lie down with me.”

  “No, I merely came to check on you. I am brewing an infusion to ease your mother’s cough and cannot linger.”

  “How is she?”

  “I am not sure yet. I plan to examine her thoroughly soon. Close your eyes and rest, Wulf. When you awaken, I will bring you a restorative to help you regain your strength. You’ve lost a great deal of blood.”

  Wulf wanted to say something more but his sluggish mind could not form the words. Nor could he recall precisely what he wanted to say. His grip on Reyna’s hand loosened and his eyes closed. Then he knew no more.

  Stubborn man, Reyna thought as she left him to his rest.

  By the time the evening meal was announced, Thora had been told about Wulf and Reyna’s abduction and their triumphant and timely return. Thora was now resting easily, her cough subdued for the time being. Now that her loved ones had returned, Reyna suspected that Thora would recover, though it would be some time before her lungs were completely clear of congestion. Reyna knew of several cures she could try on Thora, and she wouldn’t give up until one of them worked.

  When Hagar suggested that Reyna should seek her bed, she didn’t argue. She excused herself immediately after the meal and fell into bed, pulling the fur pelt over herself. Sleep claimed her the moment she closed her eyes.

  Reyna’s sleep was not restful. Wulf’s moaning awakened her during the night and she went to his alcove to check on him. When he felt feverish to her touch, she decided to brew him red clover tea, which was good for fever and infection. While she was waiting for the tea to steep, she checked on Thora. Wolf’s mother appeared to be resting comfortably, though she was still wheezing.

  Once the tea was ready, Reyna carried it to Wulf’s alcove, surprised to find him awake and lying on his side instead of his stomach. She touched his forehead, but before she could remove her hand he grasped her wrist and pulled her forward.

  “Lie beside me,” he said in a low growl.

  “You’re feverish. I’ve brewed an infusion to bring down the fever and help you to sleep.”

  “I don’t want it.” He sounded like a petulant child.

  “Drink it, Wulf, so we can both go back to sleep.”

  “I will drink it if you sleep beside me.”

  Reyna sighed. If that was what it would take to get him to drink the tea, then she would lie beside him until he fell asleep.

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