The Viking's Bride

by Darlene Mindrup

  She found her favorite spot and settled on a rock, staring out at the mountains in the distance. There was a haziness to the air that she had never seen before. An eerie silence caused the hair on the back of her neck to rise. She got slowly to her feet, her tension increasing as she noticed the absence of birds in the vicinity.

  The ground started to shake beneath her feet, intensifying until she had to cling to the rock outcropping to keep from falling.

  It was not the first time she had felt the earth shake, but it had never been this strong and had never lasted this long. A loud explosion sounded, and in the distance a huge cloud of smoke billowed from the top of a distant mountain.

  Mist stood mesmerized as pieces of the mountain shot high into the air. For an instant, she was terrified at the thought that the god Loki had burst his prison in the underworld to come and wreak havoc on this island of Iceland, but then she remembered that there was only one God, and that those she had learned of at her father’s knee were mere myths. Or were they? If the gods of her people were mere vapors of mist, was the Christian God then angry at the people here for denying His Son? Was He about to destroy this island and all therein?

  The plume of smoke rose high into the air, the winds taking it away from her and to the other side of the island.

  How long she stood watching she had no idea, but the sun had already started its descent to the horizon. Against the darkening sky, the mountain could be seen in pinks and reds as it boiled from within.

  She couldn’t help but wonder if those who lived on the other side of the island were all right. Many of them were relatives.

  Lifting her face to the sky, she began to pray the prayer that Drustan had made her memorize.

  Father in heaven, hallowed be Your name.

  Another explosion rocked the earth, throwing her to the ground. She remembered what the monk had taught her about the world being destroyed by fire. If this was the end, then she needed to be with her family.

  Turning, she began to run back to the farm.

  * * *

  Valdyr and Bjorn had just climbed to the peak of a rugged outcropping when the earth began to shake violently. Flailing his arms to keep his balance, Valdyr watched as his brother fell to the ground and rolled perilously near the steep edge of the cliff.

  Throwing himself forward, he latched on to Bjorn’s arm, pulling him away from the edge.

  The shaking of the earth settled but was soon followed by a loud explosion and, in the distance, they could see what looked like the top of a mountain disintegrate and release a large plume of smoke into the air.

  “Beard of Odin!” Bjorn exclaimed. “What is happening?”

  Valdyr shook his head, his heart thundering in his chest. “I have no idea.”

  They both stood silently watching as the plume of smoke grew into a billowing mass and the ground began to shake again. From the top of the mountain, fiery liquid spewed forth, rolling down its sides and lighting up the deepening twilight.

  “Could it be Ragnarok?” Bjorn asked in a breathless whisper.

  The end of all things? Valdyr didn’t believe that to be so. Surely when Ragnarok came, it would come with more fanfare than a spewing mountain and a little earth shake. No, this was something else entirely.

  He had heard tales of this Iceland and its spewing mountains but had never given them much credence. Until now.

  “Come,” he told his brother. “We need to get back to the farm.”

  It was going to take them hours to get back, but a voice inside compelled him to make haste. If Mist and her family were in any danger, he needed to be there. A surge of blood pumped through his veins in a fever tide and sent him scrambling back down the hill without thought of peril to his own life.

  When they reached the bottom of the cliff, they began to run.

  Covering the distance in ground-eating strides, they reached the farm only to find the compound in utter confusion.

  Valdyr stopped, searching for any sign of Mist. When he saw her exit the house and run for the barn, he hurried after her, almost colliding with her when she came back out the barn door as he was about to enter. Grasping her by the shoulders, he scanned her shaking form for any sign of injury.

  “Are you well?”

  Her eyes were like huge green emeralds in her stark white face. He could see the fear in them that was running rampant through his own body. Wanting to ease that fear, he tugged her resisting form into his arms. She held herself aloof for mere seconds before finally surrendering. Clutching his shirt, she buried her face against his chest, and he could feel her slender form shaking uncontrollably. In those brief minutes that she allowed him to comfort her, the ice that had always surrounded his heart where women were concerned began to crack. The feel of her in his arms made him forget everything for the moment, including the exploding mountain, including their original antipathy toward each other.

  She glanced up at him, and his eyes focused on her quivering lips. How was it that he had never noticed how red they were? Like the fruit of a ripe pomegranate.

  He could tell the very instant she managed to tamp down her fear and assert her courage once again. Pushing out of his arms, she told him, “I have to see to the animals.”

  If she willingly allowed him to hold her once, there was the hope that she would do so again. Strangely, this gave him no superior feeling of conquest.

  “I will help,” he told her and followed her out the door, intent on keeping any harm from befalling her.

  Chapter 5

  It had been three days since the earth shook, and still the mountain was emitting large volumes of smoke. When the wind shifted directions, the acrid scent moved in their direction, and ash settled lightly over their farm.

  Brita grew aggravated with the extra amount of work this caused, and Mist couldn’t blame her. Their washed clothes that had been hanging on the rope line outside had been covered in the dark matter and had to be rewashed, which was nearly impossible with ash still in the air.

  Everyone, including animals, had been forced inside by the suffocating effects of the volcano. Mist was thankful for the large barns that her father had built, although the ground still shook periodically, and dirt from the thatch ceiling tumbled down onto them.

  She took up the flat whalebone board and the black onyx smoothing stone and began to press the wrinkles out of a shirt that Brita had washed earlier. It was a mindless task that Mist normally detested, but today, she welcomed being able to work.

  The house was crowded with everyone being forced inside by the floating ash clouds. The animals were bellowing their discontent from the back reaches of the house.

  The earth had shaken several more times since the first day, and Mist wondered if their island was about to be torn apart. The end had not come as she had first imagined. At least not so far. Hadn’t Drustan told her that no man knew the hour, not even the Son? Voices lowered to whispers as everyone discussed what was happening. Some spoke of Loki, as she had at first believed. Still others spoke of Fenrir, the great wolf who would slay Odin when he finally broke the bonds of Gleipnir and began Ragnarok. Regardless of what anyone believed, it was an unsettling time, and Mist could almost smell the fear in the air. With each mention of the gods, she felt a twinge of disquiet inside herself. She wondered if it was because of the Spirit of God that Drustan had told her would come to live inside her, helping her to sense when she was outside God’s will.

  Her attention was suddenly caught by Valdyr talking about making a trek across the island, or sailing to the other side to see this billowing mountain up close. Mist thought him either moon touched or incredibly brave.

  Erika came and sat next to her. “Tante Mist, I need to use the privy,” she whispered urgently.

  Mist glanced at her but her ear was straining to hear Valdyr’s conversation. �
��Well, go then.”

  The child’s face paled. “Will you go with me?”

  The trembling words caught Mist’s full attention. With all the talk of the wolf Fenrir breaking his chains, or the dark lord Loki breaking free from his forced prison, the child was terrified to go outside, and Mist could hardly blame her. She put aside her smoothing board and stone and pulled her niece up onto her lap. She wasn’t sure how to reassure the child when she herself was so uncertain.

  “You are afraid?” Mist asked her quietly, trying to avoid drawing attention.

  Erika hesitated before nodding. Her eyes were round pools of blue in a stark white face.

  “Being afraid is not something to be ashamed of,” Mist reassured her, pushing tendrils of hair from the child’s perspiring face. Despite the chill temperatures outside, with all of the extra bodies inside, the room was like a hot sowna.

  “Are you afraid, Tante Mist?” she asked, her eyes like large moons.

  Mist hugged her tightly. “Indeed I am, elskling. But do you remember me telling you about the one God and His Son?”

  Erika nodded, a frown on her face as she tried to separate the stories her aunt had told from the things she was hearing now and had grown up with.

  “Well,” Mist told her, “when I am afraid, I pray to Him and He gives me peace. I know that He is with me no matter what happens or where I go.”

  “Even to the privy?” the child asked in horror.

  Mist tried to keep from smiling. “Even there,” she assured her. “Although I am certain that he grants me privacy.”

  Despite her skeptical look, Erika breathed out a sigh of relief. “So if you go with me, He will come, as well?” she asked, beginning to squirm on Mist’s lap. Mist decided that a full lesson on the Lord would have to wait for a more opportune time. Right now, her little niece was more concerned with making it to the outhouse before she had an accident.

  Truth be told, Mist would be glad of a moment’s reprieve from her forced imprisonment, the close confines only serving to make her more aware of the strange force that seemed to exist between her and her soon-to-be husband. When he had taken her in his arms, she had felt not only protected, but something she could not truly put a name to. She had been fully aware of his focused attention earlier this evening, but had forced herself to ignore him. It had been a relief when he had joined in a chess competition with the men earlier.

  Mist set Erika off her lap and took her by the hand. At Brita’s inquiring look, Mist motioned that they were going outside. Comprehending the necessity, her sister gave her a nod.

  Erika hesitated at the door, but Mist squeezed her shaking hand. She was proud of her niece when she took a deep breath and plunged outside.

  When they exited the house, they both stopped and stared in amazement. Even with the long darkness coming, it should not be this dark at this time of the day. The ash haze was so thick that it hid the sun from view. Mist shivered at the very eeriness of it.

  Everything around her was covered in a layer of ash, even thicker than the snow that fell in the winter. Instead of a pristine world of bright white, the surrounding area was drab with gray and black, the scent of burning embers almost overwhelming.

  Mist quickly pulled her apron up to cover her face. Erika began to cough as she inadvertently took in a lungful of the dusty specks.

  “Cover your face, Erika,” Mist warned. “And hurry!”

  Erika wasted no time in the privy, but even in the short time Mist stood waiting for her, ash covered her hair and clothes, giving her the appearance of walking through a winter’s blizzard. Except instead of melting on contact, the ash clung tenaciously to any surface it touched.

  The two scurried back to the house as quickly as possible. When Mist opened the door, she plowed straight into Valdyr’s solid chest, scattering ash in every direction. His firm grip on her upper arms kept her from tumbling backward onto the earthen floor. Those vivid blue eyes pushed every thought from her mind except that she could feel the heat from his body reach out and wrap around her. For what seemed an eternity they plumbed the depths of each other’s eyes. She could only wonder what message she saw flashing there, but it was enough to muddle her thinking and start her heart pounding in her chest.

  She finally managed to pull her gaze away, and he turned his attention to Erika. “Is everything well?” There was no disguising the concern in his voice.

  The earthy scent of him teased at Mist’s consciousness, bringing sudden fire to her cheeks. She pushed out of his hold, aggravated with both him and herself.

  “Everything is well. Erika needed to make a trip outside.”

  “Ahh.”

  He smiled down in understanding at the child, and she grinned back at him. It was apparent that Erika had taken a liking to the hulking Norseman. The thought that she seemed to have, as well, Mist pushed aside to deal with later.

  She bent to brush the ash off Erika’s clothing and out of her hair, trying not to think about what she herself must look like. When she straightened, Valdyr proceeded to do the same for her, his touch once again bringing flaming color to her cheeks. Flustered, she moved out of his reach and proceeded to dust herself off. His knowing grin only served to reinforce her desire to keep out of his way. The man was simply too astute at reading her, something no man had ever done before.

  “Onkel Valdyr, will you teach me to play hnefatfl?”

  Erika had seen the men playing the game earlier as they tried to stave off the boredom of their forced imprisonment. It was much like the game of chess that most of them preferred, but took more concentration. Erika had begged to learn, but the men had impatiently pushed her away.

  Mist opened her mouth to forestall Valdyr from hurting her niece’s feelings, but she was shocked into instant silence when he bent to the child’s level and bestowed on her one of his potent smiles.

  “It would be my pleasure, elskling,” he told her

  Grinning from ear to ear, Erika scrambled across the room to find the hnefatfl board that Mist had brought her after a trip to Norway. Mist stood watching the child, trying to avoid Valdyr’s look.

  “That was very kind of you.”

  Valdyr shrugged his massive shoulders. “She is a sweet child.”

  Moving close again, he brushed at particles of ash that were still clinging to her hair, the gleam in his eyes reminding her of the wolf he was named after. Mist forced herself to remain still under his touch.

  Valdyr was a true enigma. In all her years, she had never met a man like him. That same hand that could brandish a sword with deadly effectiveness was gently brushing ash from her hair in a way that made her heart react. How could the man stay so calm in the face of so much chaos?

  Erika returned and took his attention. Mist was finally able to breathe, surprised that her hands were shaking. She watched the two cross the room and seat themselves on one of the earthen benches, and then went to join Brita, who was making the bread for the morrow. A moment of guilt flashed through Mist as she realized that she had done little of late to help her sister.

  Mist took over Brita’s job of turning the stone quern that would grind the barley seed into meal, thereby freeing Brita to begin joining yesterday’s leaven with today’s flour. She followed her sister’s look to where Valdyr was patiently explaining the board game to her niece.

  “I like him, Mist,” Brita told her.

  As do I, she thought, but refused to admit it out loud. She had the distinct feeling that if she brought her feelings out into the open, her life was going to change forever. One part of her responded to the man’s magnetism, the other part feared it.

  Brita glanced across the room to where Bjorn and Astrid were sitting close together, deep in some discussion. The two made a striking couple, but it was Bjorn’s obvious love shining from his deep blue eyes that brought a smile to Mis
t’s face.

  “The women in our family have good taste in men. They will surely keep you warm on the long, dark nights,” Brita stated, then burst out laughing as hot color flamed through Mist’s cheeks.

  Mist threw her sister a withering glare as Valdyr glanced their way, one brow lifted in inquiry. Mist promptly turned her back on him and began pounding the quern faster.

  A fight broke out between some of the men, one accusing the other of cheating. Tempers had been escalating with each passing day of forced inactivity. A stern reprimand from Valdyr brought them under control, but Mist knew things were bound to get worse if something didn’t change soon.

  There were no further incidents that night, but when Mist finally lay down to sleep, she prayed that God would intervene in whatever darkness was spreading over the land. She yearned to feel the sun on her face and breathe in the fresh sea air from the fjord.

  She tried to remember more of the words that Drustan had had her memorize, reassuring words that always brought calm. Instead, the only words that came to her mind were those she had overheard him mumbling one night when reading from his codex when he thought her asleep, words about darkness and gnashing of teeth.

  Her family wasn’t ready for judgment. She needed more time to try to reach them, to teach them about His Son and His holy word. If only she could remember more of those words that brought such consolation!

  She lifted her face to the thatched ceiling above her and whispered a heartfelt prayer of only two words. Lord, please.

  Then suddenly the words began to flow through her mind, those comforting words she had been searching for.

  My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me. And I give them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall anyone pluck them out of My hand.

  Her body began to relax.

  He will never leave you nor forsake you.