“As you know from your father’s teachings and from growing up with my rantings, discipline, strength, and patience are important if you’re to survive in battle. I added the protection rune as my way of helping to keep you safe.” Bjorn smiled. He unsheathed the sword from its place on his belt and handed it to her. “You’ll need this too. If you ever fail the first lesson, you may need to grab whatever weapon is closest to you, and you need to know how to use it. Axes and swords are most common so I want you to be comfortable with both. The best way to get comfortable with both is to have both.”
She slipped her axe through her belt and reached for the sword. Her eyes pooled with unshed tears as her fingers wrapped around the hilt of her father’s sword. She ran her thumb over the copper and silver herringbone inlay on the guard as she appreciated the workmanship. The pommel had the same copper and silver inlay, and the grip was wrapped in black leather, well-worn from her father’s hand. The lethal, double-edged, seventy-centimeter blade tapered to a point. When her father was killed, Bjorn stepped up to claim his sword, since her father had no sons for it to pass to. Thora made her desire to learn to fight and her need for vengeance clear from the time of his death, but Odinkar refused to let her have the sword or to participate in training. Until Bjorn stood up for her. Though he never kept the sword away from her after he claimed it, the act of him formally presenting it to her before training threatened to undo her.
Bjorn and her father were best friends, and Bjorn had been like an uncle to her her entire life. Though there was no family blood shared between them, he took her in as part of his family when hers was killed. He and his wife Skathi showed her the same love and support she had with her parents, and she owed them so much. That he did all that for her and then went to the trouble to create not only such a fine axe, but make it one with a strong personal meaning meant the world to Thora. “Thank you.” Though those two words didn’t seem like enough, she meant them with all her heart. She could never repay all the love and kindness Bjorn had shown to her.
“Now, set that aside and take this,” he held out a medium sized oak branch.
She clutched the grip of her sword and eyed the branch with a hefty dose of skepticism. Was he testing her? “You just said this is never to be out of my hands. Why do I want a branch?”
Bjorn’s shoulders shook with laughter, making an uncomfortable warmth creep up from below the collar of her tunic and spread to her face. “I’m glad you’re paying attention to the lesson, but we won’t be using real weapons to train. Not yet. I value my limbs far too much to risk them at this stage of your training.”
Her cheeks heated more at the perfectly rational explanation, because she hadn’t considered that reason. She silently hoped that was the last time she’d embarrass herself. She set the sword off to the side of the practice area and reached for the branch. The thickness of the branch made it difficult to get comfortable holding because she couldn’t wrap her fingers around it as easily as the axe, but she found a grip that worked. She swung the branch as she’d seen her father and Bjorn do countless times with new weapons. She didn’t know why they did it or what she was feeling for until she felt how easily the branch flowed in her hands.
“That’s right. Get used to the feel of it. Learn how the weight moves as you swing it in different ways. This will help you learn the best ways to wield your weapon.”
****
“Thora?” Bjorn jogged up beside her and touched her shoulder, jerking her out of her memories.
She stopped and turned to face him. “Sorry, I was just thinking about my first day of training with you.”
His smile grew until it made his blue eyes sparkle. “To think that day wasn’t even two years ago and you’ve already fought in and survived a battle, been captured by and escaped the enemy, and killed the jarl in single combat. Your parents would be as proud as I am of how far you’ve come so quickly.”
Her heart warmed at the thought of her parents’ pride. She had no doubt they would be proud of her, because they always had been. Thora never had to wonder how her parents felt about her, because they’d been active in showing their feelings all along. Her parents filled her childhood with love and support, even during the times they had to correct her unwanted behavior as she navigated her way into adulthood.
Bjorn cleared his throat. “I was hoping to catch you before training to see if you knew how many to expect.”
Thora resumed her walk toward the area beside the gates they’d set up for training and Bjorn walked with her. “I don’t. I didn’t think to ask how many were interested in participating ahead of time.”
Bjorn shrugged and laughed. “Well, we know it will be less than forty.”
“I’ll be there to help too. I’m hoping at least a few of the women who seemed interested show up today.”
Bjorn pointed ahead as the training area came into view. “I don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about there.”
Thora looked ahead to the training area and smiled. All of the able-bodied men showed up, which didn’t surprise her in the least. Thorston stood with his arm around his wife, beaming with pride. As she scanned the gathering, she saw other wives standing beside their husbands, as well as a few women standing in a small group together. She expected a few to show up. She didn’t expect to see all ten women who showed interest gathered with the men, but she was thrilled they were there. She lifted her chin in greeting to those gathered, but let Bjorn take the lead. Training was his area of expertise and she wasn’t about to get in his way. “Skathi isn’t joining us?”
Bjorn shook his head. “She said I fight enough for the two of us and she’s better suited to looking after our home.”
Thora chuckled, not at all disappointed because Skathi spoke the truth. Skathi was the best cook in the village and Thora couldn’t imagine Skathi being too busy with training or battles to bake her famous oat bread. Her mouth watered thinking about it as her stomach growled to remind her she skipped the morning meal.
Bjorn greeted the men and women before him. “Since this is our first training and we didn’t know how many to expect, we don’t have weapons for everyone. It will be your responsibility to see Beri if you do not already have an axe or sword. Never the less, we won’t need our weapons for these first few sessions because we will use small branches. Each of you take a moment to find a branch you’ll be comfortable wielding.” As the men grumbled, Bjorn held up his hands. “I know some of you are more advanced and are used to sparring with real weapons, but we have many here who are beginners. I ask that you be patient with me, and them, and lend a hand in bringing the newcomers up to speed.”
Thora smiled as some still chose to grumble as they walked off to find their branches. If the newcomers learned as well as she did under Bjorn’s tutelage—and she had no doubt they would—it wouldn’t be long before they were practicing with real weapons and keeping the more experienced warriors on their toes.
When everyone returned, Bjorn looked over the branches everyone had selected and nodded. “Good. Let’s begin. Your first lesson is the simplest to hear, but the hardest to do.”
Thora stepped over to stand with the trainees. She was always up for the chance to learn more, and sometimes, covering old ground made it possible to find things missed the first time around.
CHAPTER 7
Thora wiped the sweat from her brow as a satisfied smile spread across her lips. She’d spent the last two hours training with the new shieldmaidens under Bjorn’s instruction, and was impressed by the experience. Each woman was eager to prove herself as a capable fighter. They each listened as Bjorn spoke, watched everything going on around them, and when the time came to demonstrate what they’d learned, each one showed off their newly learned skills. The experienced warriors quickly gave up their grumbling in favor of partnering with the shieldmaidens to give them tips and tricks, as well as to spar with them so they could practice what they’d learned. Some of the married shieldmaidens had a foundation in f
ighting partially built from years of watching their husbands practice and listening to them tell their tales of battle. Even so, the unmarried women did well and quickly picked up the skills Bjorn taught with his lessons. The first training session was a raging success.
If Thora had to choose the shieldmaidens who exhibited the most promise, she’d go with Rúna, Katla, and Ásta, who were close in age to Thora, and Thorston’s wife Frida. Though Frida was ten years older than Thora, she moved with the lightning quickness of a woman much younger.
“That’s it for today. Well done everyone.” Bjorn walked through the gathering as the sparring halted. “We’ll meet here each morning and practice for a couple of hours before moving on to the other tasks we have to do each day. Those who are on defense duty can stay here with me. Those working the fields or within the town are free to go.”
The trainees dispersed as directed, with the exception of those told to stay. Bjorn caught Thora’s eye and jerked his head to indicate she should follow him as he stepped away from those who stayed.
“What did you think?”
Thora smiled. “I think it went well. Those twenty five people will go a long way towards defending the village against attacks, once we get the rest of the defenses in place.”
Bjorn nodded. “Those are my thoughts too. I’ll need to talk to Beri about the weapons to see if he got a count on how many he needs to make. I may need to help him get his forge set up.”
“Having a working blacksmith is critical to our survival here. See what he needs and if you need more hands, get them.” Before Bjorn could respond, a trader’s cart driving through the gates drew Thora’s eye, causing Bjorn to turn around to follow her gaze.
“Is that Jacob?” Bjorn’s brows pulled together.
Thora shook her head as she walked toward the cart. “I thought he was here with us.”
As the cart neared, Jacob waved. “Jarl Thora! I’m so glad you’re here!” He parked the cart and hopped down from his perch. “I need to talk to you.”
Curiosity got the better of her and she let the question of where he was fall to the wayside. She motioned for him to join her and Bjorn.
The Saxon trader’s eyes sparkled as they darted between Thora and Bjorn. “I have news I think you might want to hear. When I returned to my town and told a few people about the events that happened here, and you becoming jarl, word spread quickly. There are several people who are interested in coming here.”
It took Thora a minute to process the news. She tilted her head. “Why?”
Jacob waved a hand dismissively. “Why not? After what you did to save us from the Irish? How you took it upon yourself to save your people from a corrupt jarl? You’ve shown yourself to be a woman of compassion who isn’t afraid to risk her own life to save others. Believe it or not, there are many who find those traits appealing in a leader and they’d like to show their support.”
Thora closed her mouth when Jacob’s glance lowered and called attention to the fact that it hung open. She glanced around the fort in its growing but still rough form and shook her head. “I didn’t save us from the Irish. I fought in a battle and got captured after getting injured in that battle. Me becoming jarl was an accident. Galinn and I barely had a plan in place to deal with Odinkar when he forced me into fighting him. Believe me, that fight could have turned out very different.”
Jacob laughed. “Then there’s your modesty. You’ve accomplished so much in such a short time, but you act like none of it was worthy of mentioning.”
Her cheeks heated and she lowered her eyes to the grass beneath her feet before returning her gaze to him. “I’m not sure if that would be a good idea at the moment. I’m fighting to get this place whipped into shape to keep my people safe while still trying to do the normal things like grow crops and raise livestock. I don’t know where new people would go.” When Jacob’s face fell, Thora wished for different circumstances.
Bjorn shook his head. “You’re looking at it the wrong way, Thora. People seeking a new life in a newly settled place understand there are bound to be struggles and obstacles to overcome, and I’m sure they’re aware of the state of the fort.” He looked to Jacob to confirm his thought. Jacob nodded. “Have you spoken to some who want to move here?”
Again, Jacob nodded. “A fair number. Most are young men with families.”
Thora squared her shoulders as the logic of Bjorn’s statements sank in. Young men with families have the physical ability to work and the motivation to fight to protect their families. Both were needed in great numbers if Thora had any hope of growing the fort into a city. The women, and children who were old enough, could help with working the fields, preparing food, and making clothing. “We could always use more hands to get the work done around here.”
“If this is any indication, word is going to spread rapidly and soon, we won’t have to worry so much about not having enough warriors.” Bjorn smiled.
Jacob clapped his hands together and then winced. “I’ll be glad when I’m fully healed after being tortured,” he muttered before clearing his throat.
Thora stopped herself from putting a hand on his shoulder out of fear she may hurt him. “How are you recovering?”
He waved a hand. “I’m fine, really. Once the wounds heal, it will be like nothing happened.”
Thora doubted that was true. A person didn’t go through the torture of having pieces of flesh removed and recover to the point where it was as if nothing happened. She wasn’t tortured as Jacob and Bjorn were, but even she had trouble moving on after her short time in the dungeon.
“Right, so this is great news! I’ve brought some wares I thought you and your people might like to have—no cost. It’s my way of thanking you for rescuing me. Once my cart is unloaded, I’ll return to my town and spread the word.”
Thora smiled. “That’s so kind of you, Jacob. Thank you. For the goods, and for helping us grow our village.”
Jacob jogged to the back of his cart and pulled aside the covering to reveal cages containing chickens and geese, bolts of linen, and a pile of swords, axes, and round wooden shields.
Thora gasped at how the gods had chosen to smile on them. “Oh Jacob, this is wonderful! Bjorn and I were just talking about how we need to get Beri’s shop set up so he can get to work forging the weapons our new warriors need.”
Jacob’s face turned red and he smiled. “This was the least I could do after you risked your life to save me.”
Thora hugged him. “You didn’t have to do this, but I’m so glad you did.” She released and shook her head. “How did you have time to do all this? I didn’t even know you left.”
He kicked the grass with the toe of his boot. “I left when you were heading for the outpost to avoid the bishop’s attack. I wanted to help, but I needed to get back to check on my family. Fortunately, when I went to the old village, I found my cart untouched.” He raised his eyebrows. “I still can’t believe all my wares were left behind. I guess the Irish were too busy burning homes to notice it. I’m glad it was there. I wasn’t planning on coming back here so soon, but after I’d seen the interest of those wanting to move here, I thought it prudent to make the trip to let you know before people started turning up unannounced.”
“And your family? Are they alright?” Thora didn’t mind in the least that he left when he did. After all, he had a home and a family of his own and she couldn’t blame him for wanting to get back to them after being freed.
Jacob nodded. “The children are well. Priscilla was horrified when she heard what I’d been through, but that’s to be expected. My wife worries over everything.” He shrugged as his cheeks colored.
“That’s because she cares about you and wants you well.” Thora smiled, trying to ease his embarrassment. She’d never understand why some men acted as if having a woman worry over them was a point of shame.
Bjorn, who was never one to be embarrassed about anything, put his hands on either side of his mouth and whistled short and shrill.
“Those in training who need weapons, come over here.”
Thora and Jacob stepped aside as the group descended like vultures on the cart and picked it clean of its weapons cache. Thora noted how the shieldmaidens chose axes while the men went right for the swords. When everyone had a weapon and a shield, Bjorn instructed them to choose a second weapon, different from the first.
“If you ever fail the first lesson, you may need to grab whatever weapon is closest to you, and you need to know how to use it. Axes and swords are most common so I want you all to be comfortable with both. The best way to get comfortable with both is to have both.”
Thora’s lips pulled into a grin as she recalled Bjorn saying the exact thing to her when he handed her her father’s sword and taught her how to use it. So much had changed in her life in the blink of an eye. She went from being just another girl in the village to the first woman to join the men in training. She’d fought her first battle, suffered her first real battle wound, been captured, and freed by the man she wanted to kill. She went from hating Galinn to caring about him to letting him go in less than two weeks. In the course of trying to save her village from an attack, she fought with and killed the jarl. With all that unsettling change happening so quickly, and much more to come, Thora was grateful Bjorn remained so steadfastly consistent.
CHAPTER 8
August 1024
Thora stepped out of the longhouse she shared with Skathi and Bjorn and into the darkness. Though she was grateful the building had progressed steadily and quickly enough that most people within the village now had permanent homes, she couldn’t relax indoors. She had her own space in the longhouse, and each night she slept in her bed, she fought the suffocating loneliness she’d battled every single night since Galinn left two months ago. Days were easier because she threw herself into her duties and training, and she rarely had a moment alone. She kept her mind busy so it wasn’t obsessing over missing Galinn and wondering if he was safe. Nights, however, were the worst. She’d struggle to fall asleep despite bone deep exhaustion, and when she did sleep, she dreamed of him. Her dreams always woke her up and her hands sought Galinn of their own volition only to come up with nothing. Sometimes, she longed for the nightmares she used to have about her family’s deaths. At least they deserved her grief. But Galinn? Thora shook her head. He chose to leave.
Rule of the Shieldmaiden Page 4
