Vanquishing A Viking

by Nancy Dillman

  “Killed?” Esme’s stomach did a swan dive. They couldn’t. They wouldn’t. Not really. Would they?

  “I said there will be no violence,” Stein shouted, “and I meant it.”

  Murmurings in the crowd, however, did little to soothe her fear. Esme heard the word ‘hang’ several times.

  “Esme, may I have the device,” Erik asked, holding out his hand. He smiled at her in a friendly way, unlike the others who gawked at her like she was a sideshow oddity.

  “Sure,” she replied, giving it to him.

  He opened and closed it a couple of times, then waved it in the air. “Everyone listen to me. Sorceress or not, Esme has brought us this strange and miraculous device. Does it not occur to you she may have been sent by the gods? This instrument may have some benevolent purpose, which we do not yet understand.”

  The crowd hummed with that one.

  “Where do you come from?” Erik asked, returning it to her.

  She took a very deep breath. “Ooookay. I know this is going to sound absolutely insane, but...I come...” She stopped, afraid to continue. How could she possibly admit to being from the future?

  Stein cleared his throat. “Go on, Esme. Do not fear the truth. Tell them.”

  She spun on her heel. “You don’t know what you’re asking of me.”

  He gave her a look of pure love and nodded encouragingly.

  Oh, crap. If she told them she was from the 21st century, they’d string her up for certain.

  “Tell us,” Magnus shouted.

  She turned back and began to speak, but her throat was so dry, it was hard to get the words out.

  “I come from a country that’s very far away, over the vast western ocean. In your sagas, it’s called Vinland.”

  A gasp rose from the crowd.

  Magnus arched his eyebrows. “Where my cousin, Thorwald, was killed?”

  “Yes,” she continued. “I need a photo of the map to prove that the Vikings, that’s you guys, settled farther up the St. Lawrence River in North America, ah, Vinland, than was previously thought. The map drawn by your cousin proves it.”

  “Why is that important to you?” Magnus asked, his brow wrinkled like an old prune.

  “It’s important to my father. He is an expert on Viking history and has always maintained that your cousin tried to establish a settlement near Québec. That’s a large, modern city in Canada.”

  Stein leaned down. “The map is what you sought last night, not the brooch?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry I lied. I didn’t know how to explain it to you.”

  His smile held a hint of sarcasm. “You’re full of mysteries and secrets. Perhaps you’ll tell me all of them someday?”

  “Yes, of course.” She glanced at Magnus, who was shifting his weight and toying with his dagger. “If I live that long.”

  Stein fingered his own weapon. “No harm shall come to you. I swear it.”

  Magnus stamped his foot on the ground like an impatient toddler. “K-beck, Kan-a-da. I do not understand anything you say.”

  “My country is called Minnesota. It’s not far from Vinland.”

  “Minn-ee-sew-ta,” Erik repeated. “It sounds very strange.”

  “It has a climate very much like this and has many lakes and forests.”

  They all looked at her like she had two heads.

  “My father, Thor, is a history professor at the little college in my hometown. I work there, too, as a librarian.”

  Throughout the crowd, mouths began to gape, and people mumbled things to each other behind their hands.

  “I promise you, I’m not a sorceress.” She looked at Stein. “I’m just a small-town librarian from Asgard, Minnesota.”

  A hush fell over the crowd.

  “You...are from...Asgard?” Magnus asked, his voice tinged with wonder.

  “Yes, Asgard is my hometown. It’s where I was born and where my father resides. It’s where I live and work.”

  Now everyone looked at her like she was the Virgin Mary. To her amazement, Magnus sank to his knees in front of her with a painful groan. She automatically backed up, bumping right into Stein.

  “What is your name?” Magnus asked, gazing up at her reverently.

  “It’s Esme. Esmeralda, actually.”

  “Are you a goddess, Esmeralda Thorsdottir? If so, have pity on your ignorant servant, Magnus, and his clan.” He spread his hands in a wide arc. “Your name is unfamiliar to us.”

  What the hell? This was getting weirder by the moment.

  She swallowed hard. “Why do you kneel to me?”

  Magnus held out his hands in supplication. “You are the daughter of Thor, granddaughter of Odin, and reside in Asgard, the home of the gods. As a divinity, you deserve our respect and honor. I humbly apologize to you. It is not often the gods walk among us.”

  Other people in the crowd followed their leader and sank to their knees, staring at her in awe.

  Stein put a protective hand on her shoulder. “Esme...”

  “Please have pity on us, goddess,” begged Gudrun, her hands pressed together prayer-like. “We did not recognize you. Forgive us.”

  “You didn’t recognize me?” Esme was stunned. These people actually believed she was a goddess? A minute ago they were ready to hang her as a witch.

  “Esme?” Stein leaned down and whispered. “Do not disabuse them of their belief. If you do, you’ll put yourself in grave danger. Let me handle it now.”

  She pressed against him, reassured by his rock-hard warrior’s body. “Are you sure? I thought you said no lies.”

  His mouth quirked up. “Sometimes it’s expedient to bend the truth a little.”

  “Okay. I’ll do anything you want.”

  He straightened. “Everyone, listen to me. Esme has just told me she is not fully divine, but she is a daughter of Thor.”

  A profusion of ooh’s and aah’s erupted from the onlookers.

  “The gods do not often concern themselves with humankind,” he went on, “but Thor could not resist the beauty of Esme’s mother and got her with child. Although Esme has asked me not to reveal why she is here amongst us, I feel you should know.”

  Grunting, Magnus got to his feet with the assistance of Erik and Gudrun. “Yes, we need to know. Tell us then. Why is she here?”

  Stein put his arm around Esme’s shoulder and pulled her close. “She has chosen me to be the father of her child.”

  Esme snorted like a sow as gasps and hisses went up from the audience.

  “I’m unworthy of the honor she bestows on me,” he continued, “but she has chosen me, nonetheless. We have lain together many times. My mother can verify it.”

  Ulla nodded in an exaggerated manner, a willing party to her son’s tall tale. “Yes, it’s true. I have seen them.”

  Stein squeezed Esme’s shoulder. “I hope, nay I pray, she has already conceived.”

  Esme realized she had to play it straight or the situation would deteriorate quickly. She held up her hand to silence the shocked crowd.

  “Stein is being modest. He is more than worthy to sire my child.” She might as well take it a step further. “Good people, my father sent me here from Asgard to mingle with you, to learn all that I can from you, to become one of you, if only for a short time.”

  “As a slave?” Sigrid asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “Ah, yes. You may well ask why I would come to you as a thrall, but what better way is there than to see all things from the bottom up, so to speak.” Oh, man! She was winging it now.

  Sigrid took a step in her direction. “Why do you choose a man to father your child?” she sneered. “Why not a god? Wouldn’t that be more fitting?”

  “That’s a good question, Sigrid,” Esme replied. “Let me tell you why. For too long the gods and goddesses have kept to themselves, rarely mixing in the affairs of men. As a result, what do they really know of you?”

  Stein picked up the thread. “Yes, she’ll return to Asgard and there give birth
to our son. He shall be mankind’s gift to the gods.”

  Everyone liked that idea, except for Magnus and Sigrid.

  Sigrid stood with hands on her hips and shouted like a fishwife. “Well, I think she’s lying. She is no goddess! She’s an evil witch and should be hanged.”

  Magnus slashed his hand in the air. “Silence!” He turned to Esme. “Are you with child?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s too soon to tell.”

  Magnus cleared his throat and stepped before the crowd, raising his hands high in the air like a TV evangelist.

  “Everyone, listen to me. This is a momentous occasion. It's clear to me that I, Magnus Forkbeard, jarl and chieftain, should be the father of this child,” he waved his hand toward Stein, “not this impotent excuse for a man who could not keep his own wife satisfied.”

  There was a collective intake of breath and then absolute silence as everyone looked first at Stein, then at Magnus and back again. It was like the Viking version of the ‘OK Corral,’ the tension so thick you could cut it with a sword.

  “That’s enough, Magnus,” Stein thundered. Tall and imposing, his eyes filled with fire, he glared at Magnus like he was Odin himself. “I will no longer suffer your insults nor curb my desire for vengeance. I’ve waited too long already.” He pointed his finger straight at his father. “I challenge you, Magnus Svenson, to single combat.”

  The crowd gasped. Gudrun and Sigrid shouted "No!."

  “You are both too wounded to fight,” Ulla cried.

  “Don’t do this, brother,” Erik pleaded.

  Planting his long legs like California Redwoods, Stein stood firm. “I’ve taken enough of your abuse, Magnus. You took Margit from me, but you’ll not take Esme. I’ll kill you first.”

  Magnus threw his chest out. “I accept your challenge.” He said it calmly, like he’d been expecting it for a while.

  Stein’s expression was as cold and hard as an iceberg. “Good. In deference to your injured leg, I shall fight with my left arm. That should take away any advantage I might have over you.”

  “Hah!” Magnus scoffed. “You have no advantage, you worthless whelp. I’m a better fighter by far. I can beat you with both legs out of action.”

  Stein snorted. “We’ll see, Magnus. Prepare yourself.”

  Magnus pointed at Esme. “I assume she will be the prize?”

  Stein’s mouth was set in a grim line. “Yes.”

  “Good. I look forward to bedding her. Perhaps she’ll prove even better than Margit.”

  Esme held her breath, afraid Stein would attack his father right then and there.

  A muscle twitched in Stein’s clenched jaw, and his eyes blazed with azure flames, but he did not rise to the bait.

  She exhaled. Although both were injured, their battle would be fierce. Stein was younger, but Magnus was more seasoned. It would be an even match.

  And she would belong to the victor.

  CHAPTER 17

  “Stein, you cannot fight your father.”

  Ulla sat on a stool near the fire in their longhouse, stirring the stew simmering in the iron cook pot. The delicious aroma of beef mingled with the ever-present stench of smoke to produce a curious aroma reminiscent of a Minnesota backyard barbeque.

  “Not only is the hólmgang forbidden, but if you kill Magnus, Haakon will challenge Erik and there will be a blood feud. There is too much at stake.” She looked at Esme, who sat on a stool at the wall loom. “No woman is worth such a risk. Not even Esme.”

  Pretending she didn’t hear, Esme continued to work on her tapestry, her hands moving back and forth, up and down with confidence.

  Ulla went on. “Daughter of Thor, indeed. The fantasy you spun today was not helpful, Stein. It provoked Magnus all the more.” She pointed her spoon at Esme. “And you? You helped him. I am ashamed of you both.”

  “I had to protect her, Mother. If they’d listened to Sigrid, they’d have hanged her.” Stein also sat next to the fire, sharpening his sword and other edged weapons. “Her story of Vinland and Minn-ee-sew-ta was far-fetched, to say the least.” He raised his voice to get Esme’s attention. “Perhaps we can persuade her to share the truth with us.”

  She turned around. “I have told you the truth. I’m from Asgard, Minnesota, and I’m a librarian at Asgard College. My father, Thor, is a history professor there.”

  A band of steel tightened around her chest. By now her father must be desperate with worry. She looked at her cell phone on the table. If she could just call him and tell him she was okay.

  “And I wish I could be with him right now because he’s very, very sick. He needs me, and I can’t help him because I'm trapped in this time period.”

  "Time period?" Stein asked.

  "Uh...country. I can't help him because I'm so far away."

  “I’m sorry you were taken from your home against your will,” Ulla offered, “but you shall return there some day, I’m sure.”

  “I’m afraid it will be too late.” Esme wiped away a stray tear with the back of her hand. “He’ll already be gone.”

  “I’m sorry about your father,” Stein offered. “Perhaps Eir has answered your prayers, and he has recovered.”

  She smiled at him. “Thank you. I hope you’re right.”

  Stein rested his sword on his knee. “Tell me something, Esme. If your home is so far away, how did you come to be in the Hebrides?”

  Uh-oh. She hoped his knowledge of geography was as poor as everyone else’s in this time period. Even then, she'd have to lie through her teeth.

  “Well, I was captured in Greenland and taken to the Faroe Islands, where I was able to escape. I picked the first ship I saw and hid in the hold. That’s how I came to the Isle of Lewis. The monks there gave me shelter and, because of my knowledge of books, they put me to work in their scriptorium.”

  “My, that is quite a tale,” Ulla commented.

  “Yes, it is indeed,” Stein muttered to himself.

  “I heard that,” Esme quipped.

  “It is unfortunate your country is so far away,” Ulla went on, “otherwise Stein and I would love to see it, wouldn’t we, son?”

  “Yes,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting ironically. “I would give almost anything to see such an amazing place.”

  It was hard to tell if he was being facetious. “Then you had better win,” Esme said quietly.

  He leveled a hard gaze at her. “Oh, I’ll win.”

  Ulla gestured with her wooden spoon, waving it toward Esme’s phone. “That device of yours is miraculous. Are there many such wondrous objects in your country?”

  “It’s not magical or mystifying. It’s just advanced technology. The product of a more sophisticated culture. There are many devices we use that would seem miraculous to you. Computers, TV’s, dishwashers, refrigerators. To me they are quite commonplace.”

  Stein frowned. “I would give anything to see such machines.”

  “I’d love to show them to you.” Esme laughed. “I must sound like a total whack job to you.”

  Stein and Ulla exchanged glances.

  “Your words are often a mystery to us,” Ulla said.

  “Yes, I bet they are.”

  Stein finished sharpening the edge of his combat sword and began to work on the shorter dueling sword.

  Esme rose and walked over to him. Picking up his combat sword, she was surprised by how light it was.

  “Do you intend to kill Magnus?” she asked, challenging him with her intense stare.

  “In the hólmgang, it’s only necessary to draw first blood,” Ulla interjected. “It’s a civilized way to defend one’s honor.”

  Esme put down the sword. “I thought you said it’s been outlawed.”

  Stein ran the whet stone over the razor-sharp blade of his dueling sword. “Yes, but who will know? We’re not supposed to worship the old gods either, but these new Christian priests can’t control what we believe. The clan decides what goes on here.”

  �
��Will you only draw first blood or do you intend to kill him?” Esme persisted.

  “I’ll conform to the laws which govern the hólmgang, but if my sword strikes a fatal blow, I won’t regret it.”

  “Don’t do it, Stein,” Ulla said, shaking her spoon at him. “You know what will happen if Magnus dies. Word will travel fast, and Haakon and his men will challenge Erik, and you, before the sun sets tomorrow.”

  “How would you feel if your son killed his father?” Esme asked her.

  “I would be devastated, for many reasons. Magnus and I shared a great passion, once.” Her eyes went dreamy for a moment. “We spent many happy years together, especially before he brought Gudrun home. Even then, he loved me more than his wife, but when his brother, Haakon, raped me, nothing was ever the same. Magnus felt I’d betrayed him. He was convinced Haakon had fathered my child, and he’s taken it out on Stein ever since.”

  “Are you certain Magnus is my father?” Stein asked softly.

  “Yes, my son. I was already pregnant with you, although Magnus didn’t yet know it. He and his brother have had a troubled relationship since they were children. I'm afraid he will go to his grave convinced that I went to Haakon freely.”

  “Did Magnus continue to...ah...summon you after that?” Esme asked.

  Ulla sighed. “Oh, yes. He still does, but these days it is less frequent. His taste runs to much younger women, as you know.” She nodded to Esme. “I still have status as his chief concubine, and I believe he harbors some feelings for me. Otherwise, he might have exiled us long ago.”

  Stein’s eyes glowed with disgust. “Because he thinks I am Haakon’s spawn, he felt justified in taking Margit from me.”

  Ulla nodded. “But, no matter how he’s treated you, you cannot kill him. There is too much to lose. Haakon would kill Erik, Gudrun, Sigrid...many people. The three of us for certain.”

  Esme shivered. She never did understand the violent warfare that plagued Viking society.

  “I don’t understand how Magnus can even fight,” she said. “His leg is still a mess, and he hobbles around like a cripple.”

  Ulla got up and unstacked the wooden bowls already on the table. “Hólmgang is conducted within a small, well-defined area. He won’t have to move much. Just wield his sword.”