by S. T. Bende
“Can we start over?” I’d intended to share the benefits of our governance model—fiscal projections, the inevitable boon in crop production or, in this case, fish harvesting, that would come from an egalitarian model. But it was clear these people wanted as little to do with us as possible—and pushing our way of life on them was only going to widen the divide between us. I needed to take a different approach. Maybe if I could show them we were decent human beings, they’d side with us on principle. And if not, well . . . Erik was here to show them what life under Clan Bjorn would look like.
It would be hell on earth.
I drew a deep breath and pasted a smile on my face. “Hi. I’m Saga, and Valkyris is not what it seems.”
“It seems like a bunch of murdering, pillaging—”
“In fact . . .” I spoke over the objection. “. . . we’re one of the most progressive tribes in all of the northern territories—possibly the world. We have a male and female chief. Our citizens choose their vocation based on their God—uh, gods-given talents. We acquire information from all corners of the world, then work tirelessly to share the advances in culture, science, and craftsmanship with anyone willing to receive our reports. We eschew slavery—we’ve never utilized thralls. Ever. We believe in honor, and fairness, and the inherent value of each and every individual who makes up our clan. We do not raid, pillage, or murder, like so many of the southern tribes. Instead, we protect, share wisdom, and foster a collaborative world in which—”
“Are you going to kill us?” the redhead blurted.
“What? No! Why would you ask that?”
“When we refuse to join you. Will you kill us like you killed Clan Norgrud?”
“We didn’t kill them!” Frustration colored my tone. “And we don’t want to hurt you. We want you to become members of—or at least allies with—our tribe. We want to extend our protection and offer you a sustainable form of governance in exchange for your refusal to stand with Clan Bjorn in the days ahead.”
Anxious murmurs ripped through the room.
“What’s happening in the days ahead?” one of the men shouted.
I nodded at Erik, and he stepped forward. “Clan Bjorn is going to attack our tribe. They’re assembling an army—intimidating the southern settlements with threats and lies to convince them to move against us. They know nothing of Valkyris’ true nature, and they see us as a threat that must be eliminated. Our numbers are substantial, and our forces have weapons not available to our enemies—yes, dragons included.” He nodded at a man who’d opened his mouth. “However, they’re moving as if they intend to bring all of Norway into their fold. A takeover of this scale would be disastrous for the region and a death sentence for your people. Bjorn is unequivocally ruthless. Your women would be enslaved, your lands stripped, and you’d be subjugated by a chief who cares nothing for the good of his tribe. His own interests are his sole priority.”
“This is all true.” I jumped in before the men could object. “I was a captive of Clan Bjorn—I was nearly forced to marry their heir. And I saw firsthand the way they treated their slaves. You do not want that for your people. Please, join us in standing up to them—in protecting our world from tyranny. And we will protect you in the days that follow, so long as you uphold the virtues that we truly embody—honor, equality, and decency. You have our word.”
My eyes sought out each and every person in the room, pleading with them to align with us. It was our best chance for survival. And more than likely, it was their only chance. Clan Bjorn certainly wouldn’t offer them a choice—they’d force them into immediate servitude.
“Will you join us?” My voice quivered as I held the redhead’s gaze. He’d been the first to stand, and though he hadn’t come out and identified himself as the chief, my gut told me he was the one I needed to convince. If he was onboard, the rest would follow.
I hoped.
The man stared at me for what felt like forever. His eyes were steely as he glanced between me and Erik.
“You are Chief Egil, right?” He hadn’t introduced himself, but I remembered his name from our briefing.
“I am,” the man confirmed.
“Please, sir. Join us.”
Chief Egil’s features softened just enough that I thought I’d actually gotten through to him.
“No,” he said, dashing my hopes in a single syllable.
A lead ball landed hard in my gut. No was unacceptable.
“Please?” I tried again. “I swear we’re not what you think.”
“I believe all that you have told me, Saga. Never before have I seen a woman speak with such passion for her tribe, or a man stand beside her, and allow her to lead. If Erik’s behavior is indicative of your clan, then I believe you when you say Valkyris is not the vengeful tribe it has portrayed itself to be.”
My lips parted in a small ‘O.’ “Then why won’t you join us?”
Sadness colored Egil’s eyes. “We are a peaceful people. We do not wish to be brought into a war.”
“War will reach you,” Erik warned, “whether you wish for it or not. Bjorn will not stop at conquering Valkyris. I know their chief, and he has a terrible thirst for power.”
“That may be so,” Egil said, “but I’ll not lead my men willingly into conflict. If it reaches us, well . . . we shall face that if it happens.”
One of his words struck a chord, and I quickly scanned the room. “Where are your women?”
“We sent them away with the children when we saw the dragon.” The chief sighed. “There is a safe area not far from here—we feared the worst, and we wanted them to be protected.”
My heart softened. Despite the remoteness of their location, they’d learned to be afraid. But of what?
“We can protect you,” I reminded him. “Bjorn won’t make you that offer.”
“Perhaps not. I have heard of Clan Bjorn—even this far north, their reputation of brutality is known. And if they reach our settlement, I will have to deal with the consequences of my choice.” Chief Egil raised his chin. “But I must do what I feel is best for my tribe. As, I understand, must you.”
“Right.” My shoulders dropped. If Egil couldn’t be convinced, Erik and I would be moving on to the next leg of our journey, no better off than when we’d started.
I reached into my pouch and pulled out a shimmering envelope wrapped in a golden bow. Since it would take days for a boat to reach Valkyris from the far north—if its navigators could even locate our hidden city—this enchanted messaging system was our best hope.
“Is that magic?” Chief Egil stepped backward. The men behind him did the same.
“It is.” I offered him the envelope.
“Light magic or dark magic?” Egil pressed.
“The gods gifted us älva as well as dragons. It’s good, honest.” I held the envelope higher. Egil stepped forward and grasped it between his fingertips. He held it away from his body, as if he were afraid it would hurt him.
What have these people been through?
“If you ever change your mind and want to ally with us, send word in this. Once you seal it, it will return to me. I’ll know to send a representative to talk terms again—or warriors to defend your shores. Whatever your need.”
Egil studied the envelope. Golden flakes floated upward, making it glow. “Thank you.”
“And there’s one more thing.” I reached into my pouch again. I withdrew Katrin’s other parcel and passed it to Egil. “There may come a day when Bjorn or its allies arrive on your shores. When that day comes, you’ll need immediate protection. Throw this on the ground—it will provide a dome, making your settlement invisible to anyone outside. That should give you enough time to send the envelope to me, and for our warriors to reach you.”
“How is that possible?” Egil asked. “An entire settlement cannot be made invisible.”
“It can, and it is.” Erik shrugged. “Valkyris has employed similar magic for decades.”
Murmurs once again ripped thro
ugh the room.
“We’ll leave you.” I reached out to clasp Egil’s hands. “Please, use the tools if you need them. Our doors are always open to you.”
“Best of luck, Saga.” Egil bowed his head. “Erik.”
“To you as well.” Erik reached behind and opened the door. “Come, Saga. We’d better get moving before night falls.”
“You’re welcome to stay here,” Egil offered. “Our accommodations are no doubt modest by magic-wielder’s standards, but we’ll gladly share what we have.”
“That’s very kind, but we have more tribes to visit.” Erik stepped outside. “Until we meet again, Egil.”
I followed Erik out of the hut, and toward the cliffs. We made the long trek down the frosty switchbacks in silence, not daring to speak until we’d reached the rocky beach. Once our feet were firmly on the shore, I pulled my cloak around my shoulders, met Erik’s worried eyes, and voiced the question I’d been holding back since Egil had declined our offer.
“What do we do now?”
Chapter 12
OUR NEXT VISIT WENT considerably better. Clan Firense hadn’t been terrorized by dragons, or watched their neighbors die in a blaze of glory. But they had been raided by the very tribe we were offering protection against. Lars and his men had visited this fishing village one month prior, and stripped it of all valuables before abducting half its members and sailing into the night.
“Those helbeasts deserve to pay for what they did to us,” Firense’s chieftan sputtered. Ragfinn was a large man, whose long, braided beard fell nearly to his bulbous belly. He stood in front of a roaring fire inside the traditionally constructed log house that served as their clan’s meeting area. All around him, the weather-worn faces of half-a-dozen men expressed their agreement.
“Let’s go after ’em.” One grunted.
“Kill them!” barked another.
“I’m afraid it’s not quite that simple,” I said.
“Tell us what we must do to avenge our kinsmen, and we will do it,” Ragfinn vowed. “Sit. Let us discuss.”
He gestured to the table nearest the fire. Erik nodded, pulling out a chair for me and sliding it in once I’d settled. He, however, remained standing behind me, his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“Why would you do that?” Ragfinn studied Erik curiously. “She’s a woman. She’s meant to serve you.”
My inner feminist bristled. For the umpteenth time since my arrival in Vikingdom, I had to remind myself that this was a different era, with different values . . . values we were working very hard to change.
“In our tribe, positions are assigned based on strengths and merit,” I said coolly. “Not gender.”
The men broke into angry murmurs, and Ragfinn’s eyes narrowed. “Can he not speak for himself?”
“Oh, I speak for myself just fine.” Erik’s voice was deadly calm. “And if you want to get your clansmen back, I’d advise you sit and listen to what Saga has to say. Our offer won’t come around again.”
Ragfinn’s brows angled downward. His lips pressed together in a tight line, but he sat at the table and pressed his palms firmly against the wood. Turning to face his men, he raised his chin and issued his command. “Leave us. We must negotiate privately.”
The men rose, and marched to the far end of the room. As they passed, their eyeballs pierced me with disgust, as if they couldn’t fathom a female behaving as I did.
Yikes.
“Well?” Ragfinn said. “Go on, woman.”
“Again, my name is Saga,” I reminded him. “And our offer of protection comes with conditions. You must stand with us against Bjorn in the days to come.”
“We already agreed to fight those monsters.” Ragfinn said.
“And we require that you embrace our lifestyle. In Valkyris, men and women are equal. We choose our vocations based on personal strengths. We strive to bring out the best in every member, which naturally begets increased productivity, heightened loyalty, and an overall betterment of the tribe.”
Ragfinn frowned. “Men and women . . . equal?”
“It’s a non-negotiable term,” I said firmly. “I understand things have always been done a certain way here. But our system works. And more importantly, our system grants dignity to all—regardless of conditions we didn’t choose for ourselves.”
Ragfinn’s eyes shifted skyward. He appeared to be processing this information, though for all I knew he was figuring out the best way to kill me for insulting his way of life. Good thing Erik was standing behind me with a really big blade.
After a slow eternity, Ragfinn brought his gaze back to me. “This is non-negotiable?”
“It is.”
Ragfinn nodded. “Then it shall be so. My wife was taken in Clan Bjorn’s raid. If this is the price of retrieving her, then so be it.”
A tremendous weight lifted from my shoulders. I was pleased that Valkyris would gain new allies in our fight, but I was even happier that I’d convinced my first ever tribe to give women a shot. God willing, the next generation of Firense girls would have the chance to pursue their own dreams—not serve male overlords because it was how things had always been done.
Score one, medieval feminism.
I tempered my inner happy dance, and turned my attention back to Ragfinn. “We, of course, will help you implement this amended system of governance. I have documents back with our dragon, outlining the basic principles.”
Ragfinn waved his hand. “I’m sure I can follow the documents. It’s the older members of my council you’ll need to worry about.”
I glanced back at Erik. His hand tightened around his sword.
“What do you mean? You’re the chieftan, aren’t you?”
“Ja. But four men serve under me, enforcing my decisions and maintaining order within the tribe. Their wives were not taken in the raid, and therefore they may not be as . . . open to unconventional practices as I am.”
I forced a smile. “Then you’ll just have to convince them. In whatever language they best understand.”
One corner of Ragfinn’s mouth turned up. “I suppose I will.”
Just then, a woman walked into the longhouse. Her fiery-red hair and piercing green eyes were hauntingly familiar. I’d either seen her—or someone who looked an awful lot like her—before. But that wasn’t possible.
Was it?
“Chief Ragfinn?” The woman approached our table. Up close, I couldn’t miss the sallowness of her skin, the dark circles under her eyes, and the listlessness in her gaze. This woman was completely and totally devoid of hope. What had they done to her?
“I am busy,” Ragfinn said curtly.
I shot him a glance. “Our terms?”
He sighed. “What do you want, Borghild?”
Borghild. It wasn’t a name one forgot—I’d heard it somewhere before.
But where?
“I’m sorry to interrupt.” Borghild bowed her head at Erik and me. “But Tirvald wants to know if our guests will be joining us for the evening. We can prepare quarters for them in one of the vacated residences.”
Ragfinn’s eyes dimmed as he turned his attention to me. “So many of our clansmen were taken, we now have several empty homes. You are welcome to one of them, should you wish to spend the night.”
I glanced back at Erik. It was late, and it would be nice not to camp in the snow. “What do you think?”
The vein over Erik’s jaw bulged.
I leaned closer and whispered, “It’s probably warmer than whatever forest you had planned for us.”
Erik sighed, before squaring his shoulders to Ragfinn. “Thank you for your offer. We accept. And in the morning, we will assist you in speaking with your council.”
Ragfinn rubbed the back of his neck. “Some assistance might be necessary, though they will be more than willing to side with you against Bjorn. I didn’t mention it before, but their raid was the second in the past few years. And it violated terms we’d already agreed upon.”
Beside him, Bo
rghild lowered her head and closed her eyes. Was she okay?
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Clan Bjorn attacked us a while back. They threatened to slaughter our entire village unless we gave them two members of our clan as thralls. They asked for ten, but at that time, we had an alliance with a more aggressive settlement to the east, and we put up a decent fight. Still, Clan Bjorn was strong; they said they’d come back if we didn’t give them an offering. We sent two girls with them, and in exchange, they vowed we’d have five years protection.”
Bile churned in my gut. “You gave them two girls as slaves?”
A quiet sob escaped Borghild’s lips.
“We were told it was the only way to protect the greater good of the tribe,” Ragfinn said bitterly.
“Until Bjorn broke their word,” Erik deduced.
“Exactly.”
Borghild swiped at her eyes. Had she been close to the girls who’d been taken? Had she been . . .
No.
A wave of horror jolted me to my feet. The red hair, the green eyes, the pain for the girl who’d been traded to Bjorn . . . “You’re Ingrid’s mother!”
Borghild stilled, her mouth frozen in a small ‘O.’
“Ingrid’s . . . mother?” Erik’s voice cracked.
“Yes!” Recognition shot through me. “Ingrid told me she was traded for her tribe’s security; that her father forced her to live as a slave with those . . . monsters.”
“You know my daughter?” A single tear trailed down Borghild’s cheek. “Is she all right?”
I clamped my lips together before I said something I’d regret.
Borghild pressed her hand to her chest. “I begged Tirvald not to give her away—to let the tribe send another girl in her place. But he insisted it had to be his daughter. As primary councilor to the chieftan, he said it was his duty to protect the tribe.”
“You mean she didn’t have to be the one to go?” I whispered. Of course, Ingrid staying would have meant someone else was sent in her place. But even so . . .
Erik placed a hand on my shoulder. The steady pressure was the only thing keeping me from reaching out and shaking the woman. Who gave away their own daughter?
