Power is a trick. Like a shadow on the wall. Even small men can cast a large shadow.
-Viking Quote
Duck! I scream in my head. The fist comes flying and just barely skims the top of my head.
"Fight!" A voice shouts.
Another punch, this time taken right to my gut. A strong hand grabs my shoulder and throws me backwards. I stumble back a few steps but stay on my feet. I cross my arms and watch as my father and older brother, Gunnar, duel. How did that just happen? This was my duel. So what if I don't punch first, why does that matter? Within seconds my father calls a threat on my brother and the duel is over.
"That was my fight," I fume.
"You don't deserve to fight," my father barks. I glance back at Gunnar who seems indifferent to the conversation. My father turns away and starts down the stairs that lead into the village. I rush after him.
"I deserve to fight just as much as every viking in this village! Actually, as much as everyone who lives under the title of Viking," I protest.
"Elin, stop this! There's no reason for you to fight in the first place. These duels are merely entertaining your curiosity."
"So stop ruining the entertainment!" I explode.
Behind me, Gunnar rushes up and pushes past me.
"Don't you dare talk to our father like that."
My father looks pleased with his reaction. Gunnar shoots me a satisfied smile. I stop walking on the dirt path and let them go far ahead of me. I'm not sure how long I stand there, just watching them snake farther into the mess of dwellings. They reach the large structure I call home and disappear beneath the thatched roof. Home, the most fierce battleground there was. Full of custom and tradition and just enough hard feelings to make it a recipe for complete disaster. I shake my head and continue down the path. The sun is just starting to set upon the village, casting an eerie glow across the merchant carts. Off in the distance, the farmers are just coming back from the fields.
I hurry down the rest of the steps and wait for them at the gates.
A hand slaps me on the back and I spin to see one of my friends standing beside me. She's a couple inches taller than me and I'm forced to look up to see her face.
"Saga, what are you doing here? I thought you were in charge of first watch?" I ask.
She flicks her long red braid to the side. "I am. And you are too."
"I'm what?" I question.
"Come on. It's only two days until the ships leave for Raid. Don't be a killjoy."
"Me, a killjoy?" I laugh. "As if."
"Good, so you're in," Saga smiles. "Grab Vern before he heads into camp. I'll meet you in the watch tower in a few minutes."
She doesn't wait for a response and disappears into the herd of people that stream through the gate. I search the crowd for Vern and see him just beyond the gate. Immediately, I jump into the mess of people and start pushing my way towards him. No one bothers to make the going easy for me, nor do they question it as I push rudely past them. I spot Vern's shaggy strawberry blond hair and grab his arm, yanking him towards the fields.
"Hey!" he laughs. "Elin? What are we doing?"
I wait until we burst into the empty space to give him an explanation.
"You didn't hear? Your sister's planning a party in the watch tower," I roll my eyes. Vern scoffs.
"Saga's going to get us all banished before we go on our first Raids," he mutters. He dusts some of the dirt from his long tunic.
YOU ARE READING
Fault (Book 1 of the Vikings Series)
Historical FictionWe are farmers. We are fighters. We are families. We live. We die. We are Vikings. This is the honest truth of our lives. This is everything I've ever been taught about who we are laid out in a few short sentences. There were never any lies. There...