The Viking Slave

Chapter 1: Captured!

(This book is in the process of being re-written.. I will be changing quite a bit in it. I will publish the new chapters all at once so there won't be any gaps in the story. Thanks for reading.)

Check out my new story: The Warrior Princess
____________
845 Hamburg, Germany

Fifteen year old, Astrid Egger arose from the hard ground upon where she sat tending the small garden just outside of her small, stone cottage. A nippy changing spring wind blew lightly through the air, sending a chill down her spine. The sky had a grayish-blue tint with long, stringy white clouds hovering in the sky, covering the sun's bright rays. The rolling rich green hills housed many little cottages, just like the one where she presided, that led down to the Elbe river. The river was a clear, cool blue which ran at a smooth pace. Fishermen and marketers were the ones that dwelled beside it. Unless for business purposes, none of the farming families associated with the riverside markets, they lived from the land to meet their needs. In the middle ground between the sloping hills and the river sat a long, wooden building which was the church, where the priests lived.

The Egger's home was a very simple design. It was in the shape of a square, with a heavy straw roof packed with sod, laying at angles so the water would run off when it rained, which was quite frequently. To the side of the home was a medium sized animal pen that was divided in several different sections for the variety of animals, such as cows, sheep and chickens, that was tended. The inside was much the same-plain. The fire pit sat in the middle of the dirt floor, one room house that sheltered Astrid, her mother-Beatriz, and younger sister-Aida. Off to the right side of the area sat a heavy, square wooden table with four old wooden chairs on each of the four sides. Then to the left side of the room was sheepskin covers laying atop of a straw pallet, in which they slept upon together.

Astrid strolled over to the pen where the cows were held and pulled up her milking stool, plopping down forcefully onto the rough, round seat. She patted the old red-haired cow, assuring it she meant no harm, and began milking.

"Astrid!" Beatriz yelled from the doorway of the house.

Astrid let out a sigh before standing from the stool, stretching her cramped legs.

"Yes mother?" she called back, gathering her bucket that was only half filled with the fresh milk.

As she rounded the corner she saw her mother standing with her arms crossed, Aida hid behind her mothers light brown, beat up dress.

"What is wrong mother?" Astrid asked again, opening her eyes wide with a slight shake to her head.

Yet again there was no reply, Beatriz stood perfectly still watching Astrid closely. Aida ran from behind her skirt to where Astrid stood, hugging her legs tightly.

"Mam says you are going to teach me how to fight with a sword!" the seven-year-old Aida said excitedly.

Astrid patted the small, brown haired child on the back of the head as she looked annoyed back at her mother.

"Did she?" Astrid spoke puzzled. "Why do you need to know how to sword fight, Aida? Fighting is not for girls of any age, really, especially seven year olds."

"Aida," Beatriz called. "How about you return to your needlework inside while I talk to your sister."

Aida released her grasp from around Astrid's leg. Astrid turned from her mother to hide her face of anger mixed with annoyance.

"Mother what are you thinking! Father taught me to fight so if he was not here someone could watch over the farm." Astrid argued, turning to face Beatriz. "God took father from us and now I am obligated to protect this farm if need be, but to free-willingly fight and teach my sister the bloodthirsty trade, I am sorry mother but I refuse."