The Abduction of the Northmen

Chapter 2

Pale abundant strands flew rambunctiously as Tóra soared on the stallion through the coppice. She knew this serene region better than most of the young women in Húsavík, it was the one place she could practice her fighting.

As she began to slow to a trot, she heard a sound. Her horse began to squeal.

"Sh, calm my Prista." She whispered as she dismounted the fair creature.

Tóra silently pulled a dagger out of her satchel as the sound appeared again.

She turned to see a bush rattle. She saw a figure through the bush. She recognized that figure, and it certainly was no animal.

Her face held stern as she moved closer.

"I do not know who you are, but you better come out! And if you do not come out, I swear with the Gods as my witnesses that I shall cut out your tongue and cut off your hands!" she shrieked.

A cinnamon flame arose from the bush. A smile appeared on the silvery face of the figure.

"Now now Tóra, would you really preform such a treacherous act on your best friend?" the figure coyly demanded. A sly grin formed it's way onto Tóra's visage. She slowly walked closer to the figure.

"Well that would depend how you could wrong me, Fasta."

The young woman slowly emerged from the bush. A sharp laugh escaped her lips, followed by a similar laugh released from Tóra's lips. The girls embraced gently.

"I would never wrong you, Tóra. We both know that." She winked.

"A Shield-Maiden never wrongs her sister Shield-Maiden." Tóra rested her arms over Fasta's arms.

"But even if you and I were not Shield-Maidens, I still could never harm my best friend." Fasta breathed.

The girls paced to a peaceful pool. Tóra had her first fighting practice with Fasta near this pool, and it was one of the most beautiful memories she held close to her heart.

"Have you heard any word about the voyage?" Fasta asked. Tóra shook her head.

"My Amma has been praying to the Gods to give us a sign, but there is no sign. She believes that if something abominable happens, then we shall know something on the voyage has gone wrong. If something wonderful happens, the voyage is successful, but no sign leaves us waiting, not knowing. I hate it." Tóra sighed.

Fasta hugged her friend.

"My friend, do not lose faith. The Gods will care for them."

"Even if my Grandfather and Father are not of the Northmen?" Tóra asked.

"I believe so. They stayed here when they could have fled. I believe the Gods have accepted them."

Tóra stared back at herself as her eyes pierced into the moist mirror. She couldn't wait any longer. All she wanted was a sign. No matter good or bad, just a sign.