"After you, ladies. We'd better do as he says," Jorg said as he opened up his arm, gesturing for them to go ahead of him.
Selby slipped her hand through Ingrid's arm and they walked off after Hagen. Ingrid shook her head but knew the day would be eventful.
They wandered through the streets toward the pier where they had first arrived, and Ingrid was again struck by the stench of waste and the mucky grime that covered everything. Rows of small houses sat side by side, leaning on each other as if for support. Ingrid started to question her desire to explore the city when they turned a corner and came upon a market street. It was lined with the same dilapidated houses but each had tables set up with wares for sale. Packed with buyers and sellers, the corridor resembled a crowded, muddy stream filled with hungry fish. They stopped to watch for a couple minutes before navigating through the narrow passage. Handcarts were pushed or wagons pulled among the crowd. Some were even harnessed to goats, and the group learned to jump out of their way.
The girls stopped at a table selling beautiful beads. Ingrid was drawn to the jade, teal, and cobalt-colored glass ones that sparkled in the light. As she ran her fingers over them, the amber bead of her own necklace radiated as if it had come to life. Ingrid felt the air around her thicken. The little hairs on the back of her neck tingled and her lungs tightened, making it hard to breathe. Turning slowly to her left, she saw a woman in the middle of the street. The flesh rose in small bumps over her arms. The woman stood the length of two wagons away, yet even from that distance a power radiated from her. Ingrid shivered as if it were mid-winter, but she felt drawn to the woman at the same time. Taking a step toward her, she felt a hand on her elbow. Dazed, she broke her stare as she traced from the hand up the arm to see Jorg looking at her. He had creases in his brow and a question in his eyes.
"Is everything alright?"
"Yes. I was just going to go see that woman over there. "
"What woman?" Jorg's eyes roamed back and forth, scanning the street.
Turning back to where she had seen her, Ingrid examined every face. "She was just there," she pointed, "watching me."
"What did she look like?"
"She was tall. She wore a beaded cloak with the hood pulled up, but I could clearly see her face, it was beautiful and she had long brown hair spilling over her shoulders."
Jorg furrowed his brows further. "If you see her again, don't go to her alone. Make sure I'm with you." He hesitated then added, "Or Hagen. Promise it."
"What's with the overprotective act? You two boys need to give us a little space," Selby interrupted.
"There's a lot of people here and it would be easy to get separated and lost, that's all." Jorg still held Ingrid's elbow while he stared at her. She nodded to him and looked down. Up ahead a few houses, Hagen bought several skewers of some type of meat. They walked up to him.
"Here, try one of these. It's dried elk and tastes delicious." He handed a skewer to Ingrid and one to Selby. "Don't ever say I'm not nice to you every once in awhile."
As Ingrid took a bite of the snack, she felt the familiar tingle on her neck. She turned to find the woman watching her again, but this time nodded with her chin that Ingrid should follow her. She nudged Jorg without taking her eyes off the woman and he followed her gaze. Pushing Ingrid behind him, he glared at the woman, who raised an eyebrow as she looked back at him. As if a question had been answered, she nodded her head and then smiled at Jorg before she turned and disappeared into the crowd.
Hagen noticed Jorg's movement. "What's wrong?"
"There's a woman that's been watching Ingrid, but she's gone now."
Hagen questioned Ingrid and she repeated the woman's description to him. "Let's keep walking. We have business at the skeldergate to take care of, but speak out if you see her again."
"We don't know that she means any harm."
"You are too trusting," he arched an eyebrow at her. Lifting his chin to Jorg, he said, "You stay on that side." Jorg nodded and they started to walk with Ingrid in between them.
"Don't worry about me, I'll stay right here, behind all of you. Safely protecting myself," Selby whined in a mocking voice. Ingrid smiled over her shoulder. The boys pushed through the crowded street, making room for them to keep three abreast and ignoring the angry comments as they did. Selby shook her head and followed.
7
They walked among the scattered barrels and baskets, stopping to admire fine fabrics or braided leatherwork. Selby purchased a beautiful filigree box filled with kohl.
"Since when do you wear kohl?" Hagen asked.
"Mind your own business," Selby answered.
"He just wants to make sure you'll share with us," Jorg teased.
Ingrid chuckled as they enjoyed a moment of fun. Her mind was distracted, though, with the sticky mud and clamor of the crowds that reminded her of the battle days before. The coppery smell of the blood while she tended the wounded and the way her hands squished with gore plagued her memories.
Could I really swing a spear or axe at a person? Would I? Maybe everyone is right. I'm not supposed to be a shieldmaiden.
She trudged along behind Selby. They left the tight corridor and turned a corner toward the sounds of water. Up ahead was the river and a different set of docks, but the entire street was lined on both sides with shield-makers. Ingrid gasped and stopped walking. Skeldergate; she couldn't believe her eyes.
Rows and rows of shields leaned against each other. There were large ones and small ones. Some had pounded iron elements, others were made of all wood. All of them held a beauty that entranced Ingrid. The intricate carvings of dragons, snakes, wolves, and bears marked some. Vivid colors or none at all made no difference in their beauty. The craftsmanship was extraordinary. Ingrid walked from artisan to artisan admiring all the work. Some of the crafters also made weapons and there were spears, hammers, axes, and maces. Lost in the dazzle of sights, she startled when Selby spoke next to her.
"This is incredible."
Ingrid nodded as she continued to stare.
"We need to speak to the man farther down to have a few more shields made for father's men," Hagen said.
"They are all so wonderful," Ingrid said. Her voice held a reverent quiet as if she stood in a holy place.
"Come on, Ingrid."
Selby walked quickly down the street, but Ingrid slowed her steps, mesmerized. She came to a cluster of shields that were smaller than most. Ingrid put her hands on one and a voice from just inside the hut's doorway said, "Go ahead. Pick it up and see how it feels."
She did and was amazed. Lightweight; her arm didn't strain to keep it in position. "How is this possible?" she asked, "It's so light. Wouldn't it splinter apart if it was used?"
"No, I use linden wood. It's coated in linen rather than leather so it stays light. Still just as hard and works just as well. It's a good shield for tight places and quick action."
Ingrid looked down the street where the others stood. Selby was turned toward her and she gestured to tell her not to worry. "Do you think you could make me one? Light like these and to fit my size?" she asked, lowering her voice as she spoke.
He peered sideways at her, skeptically, before he answered. "Why are you asking me? Who does your family buy their shields from already?"
"They have a maker, true, down the way," she pointed toward her group, "but theirs are not as light as yours. I have money and I will pay you myself." Her skills at spinning thread and nalbinding rivaled someone twice her age. The women of her village paid well for her help. "There's no need to worry about what my family does." Ingrid said. She pulled her shoulders back and met his eyes with an unflinching stare. "When can you have it ready for me?"
"I can have it ready when you need it. The faster I have to work, the more it will cost you," he said with a smile.
Ingrid reached into the pouch she kept hanging from her belt and pulled out a couple coins. "I will give you this now, and the rest when it is finished," she said. "I will be back in a
while to let you know when I need it."
"Fine, I'll get started with this, but if you don't come back today, I will not work on it any further."
"I'll be back. And I'll expect your best work when it's finished."
The crafter gave a snort but smiled. Ingrid savored the independence as she strolled up to the others.
An hour later as the group made their way back down the street, Ingrid stopped to adjust her gauntlets.
"Is there something wrong? Are your hands feeling warm?" Selby asked.
"I'm fine. Really. Go ahead with the others and I'll catch up."
"I'll wait."
"It's ok. Keep walking and make sure the boys don't make a big deal about me stopping."
"You're up to something. What is it?" Selby squinted her eyes and chewed on her lip. Her eyes popped open when she looked beyond Ingrid. "You are going back to the shield-maker I saw you at earlier, aren't you?"
"Shh." Ingrid glanced toward Hagen and Jorg, but they still ambled up the street. "Yes, but be quiet."
"Will he make one for me too?" Reaching into her own purse, Selby pulled out some coins. "This should be enough to start, shouldn't it?"
"Fine, but you keep them busy so I can go over there. How do you want yours to look?"
"Surprise me!" Selby's eyes gleamed and she gave a little squeal.
"Hurry and catch up to them," Ingrid pointed toward the boys. "I'll be as fast as I can."
"They are a couple of mother hens when it comes to you." Selby hurried off down the street and Ingrid rushed over to the shield-maker.
Ingrid strutted up to Selby not long after with a satisfied smile and a pump of her eyebrows.
* * *
When Ingrid returned to the shield-makers' street later that week, she was anxious. She wasn't sure how she would explain what she'd done or how she would be able to pick up her shield unnoticed. She'd pay for Selby's but leave it for her to snatch up when they rolled by with the wagon. It was unwarranted worry, however, because everyone was so busy inspecting and loading the new shields onto the cart, no one noticed Ingrid slip away.
There was a surprise waiting for her when she arrived at the tent. The shield-maker had understood her perfectly when she explained that she wanted something light for her size. He'd also gathered her desire to assert her independence and taken it upon himself to make another item for her. It was a wooden mallet. Instead of being made of heavy fir or alder in the usual manner, he'd used the lighter linden wood like the shield. There was also a hole in the end of the handle with a sturdy loop of leather to secure around Ingrid's wrist.
He took her to the back of his shop where he had set up a straw-filled shirt nailed to a post. Here he had her hold the red and yellow painted shield in her left hand and then slip her hand through the leather loop of the mallet before holding the handle in her right hand. Ecstatic, Ingrid beamed like a one-hundred-foot bonfire. The weight of the mallet felt like an extension of her arm rather than a heavy burden. She thrust up and across, contacting the dummy with an ease she'd never known before. Her training had only ever involved sticks but she mastered the movements in no time, jumping up in order to come down on an enemy with all of her weight. The merchant guided her for more than a quarter of an hour. She paid him the remainder of the balance for all three items and was grateful that she had earned enough to cover the extra cost of the mallet as well.
Without another thought about what she'd say to her father, she strutted out onto the street. Holding her possessions properly in each arm she made her way over to the others. Klaus noticed her first and walked over to where she stood. "So, what have you there?" he asked.
"A shield I commissioned for myself," she answered boldly without a hint of remorse.
"Ah," he nodded and jutted his chin, "and what of the other?"
"This was a surprise, but I happily made the purchase. It was made just for me and I can wield it well."
"How did you make these purchases?"
"From the extra work I do around the village. It was my own coin."
"Then you have earned the right to keep them." He smiled as he spoke to her.
Ingrid smiled back at him. Pride and satisfaction coursed through her veins knowing she'd made a mature decision and he would honor it.
By afternoon, the shields were loaded and the slow journey to the boats began. While the skies held their moisture, enough rain had fallen earlier to make the busy area sloppy and thick. Wagons slipped and sunk into the mud at regular intervals, making progress agonizingly slow. Ingrid, useless to help with either the large ox or the heavy cart, distracted herself at the market tables. She kept an eye toward the group while perusing beads, pottery, or jewelry. One vendor had hair combs made of gold, some inlaid with jewels or ivory. They were far too expensive for what coins Ingrid had left, so she wandered on. The next table had containers filled with various colors of body paint. Intricate carvings on the pots made them as beautiful as the contents promised on the inside. Ingrid had never decorated her face like most of the other girls her age. Selby had urged her to try, but the effort didn't interest her.
Maybe it is time I tried this? I'd look more mature.
Running her fingers over a small round pot carved from wood and painted with red, yellow, and green swirls, it reminded her of the grassy fields back home adorned with their floral jewelry.
"That would be a good choice for you," the woman next to the table said. She smiled at Ingrid. "A little kohl would make those turquoise eyes of yours even more stunning."
Ingrid's chest tightened and she flashed a glance toward the wagon. It was stuck again in the mud and no one looked in her direction. I could borrow Selby's. It can't hurt to have some of my own, for special times.
"How much?" she asked the woman.
After wrapping the box in a section of linen, Ingrid secured it into her purse. Her two remaining coins jostled alongside her purchase. Happy and content, she tied the purse to her belt and ambled toward the next vendor across an alleyway.
Ingrid looked over to the wagon, still anchored in the mud, everyone's focus was on getting it moving again. Without warning, a hand snaked out from behind and covered her mouth. Another wrapped around her waist and pulled her back into the alley behind the market huts. Standing in front of her, a girl, and a boy stood. Both of them were taller and weighed more than Ingrid, but were about her same age, as far as she could tell. The smell of body odor, bad breath, and general stink from the third captor, a boy, caused her to gag behind his rough fingers. Her legs quivered and her heart pounded against her rib cage. She'd watched this scenario while the girls practiced at home; it was intimidating rather than entertaining this time. Releasing her, the one behind her stepped back, but she could still feel the heat of his body too close behind her. She stood her ground, hoping they couldn't see the tremble of her hands. A brief thought flashed through her mind to scream.
No, I will handle this myself. I need to handle this myself.
The girl spoke first. "Nice shield. If you want to drop it now, I'll let you run home to your mother." Dark eyes peered out of tiny slits below her bushy eyebrows as the girl spat the words.
Ingrid remembered how Helka stood poised and ready before her attackers. Mimicking that attitude, she squared her shoulders. "You can try," she said with forced indifference. Her gut churned and a trickle of sweat slid between her shoulder blades. Ingrid willed her arms to relax as she tightened her grip on the shield.
The girl was as dirty as the boys, her hair matted into stiff ridges above a scar over her left eyebrow. Black holes gaped between yellowed teeth when she sneered.
"I was hoping you'd stay." The girl curled her lip into a crooked grin.
The boys stepped backward, deferring the fight to their leader, and gave the girls an impromptu arena. The mallet hung by its cord on Ingrid's wrist, limp against her knee. Quick as a cat, the girl lunged at Ingrid. On instinct, she raised her shield and pushed her weight into it. Stunned not by the impact, b
ut at her ability to stop the girl, Ingrid's courage soared. Smug with her skills, her arm dropped for a brief second--enough for the girl's hand to reach in and take hold of Ingrid's hair. Surprised, her feet stumbled as she flew forward. A solid thud landed on her back from the girl's other fist.
Disoriented, Ingrid barely kept herself from falling face first into the mud. Staying on her feet, she spun around in time to use her shield to deflect the next blow. Within a split second she leaned down to the let the mallet touch the ground so she could wrap her fingers around the handle. Before she could stand up a fist struck her hard across the face. Blood filled her mouth, and she felt one of her teeth wiggle as she spat the metallic liquid. Ingrid jammed the shield's edge into the girl's stomach as she lunged for another strike. The girl's eyes widened and she grunted as she lost her breath. Ingrid swung her mallet sideways while the girl doubled over. The crack reverberated through Ingrid's arm with a shudder as it landed against the back of the girl's shoulder. Her body lurched forward and her head slammed awkwardly against a barrel. The girl looked up for a moment before her eyes rolled up into her head and she crumpled to the ground.
Ingrid's chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. Both of the boys stared at the girl in silence for a second until the boy nearest Ingrid reached for her shield. She pulled it back and faltered but readied for a second attempt. As if from a slingshot, a body hurtled into the boy from the direction of the main road. The second boy launched himself at the new attacker while Ingrid abandoned the melee and rushed back to the girl. She dropped to the ground, her own injuries ignored, and huddled over the girl's wilted body. A light moan and raspy breath proved she was still alive. Ingrid's shoulders slumped forward and she scrunched her eyes closed. Blood soaked the girl's hair and trickled into her ear. Ingrid reached out to touch her, but before she could, she was swooshed into the air and slung, undignified, over a shoulder. Her mallet hung from her wrist as her arms dangled toward the ground. She had no energy to fight anymore and bounced along barely able to breathe as her stomach was pressed tight. Around a corner, Ingrid was dropped behind a stack of wooden boxes. Strong arms held her down and a barked whisper told her to stay still. A few silent moments passed before she was allowed to sit up.
Ingrid, The Viking Maiden (Viking Maiden Series Book 1) Page 7
