VIKINGS || GYDA

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟕 *

Splashes up ahead announce the presence of a whale following close by the ship. Many stand to watch the peaceful beast pass by, it seemed to distract the fact that this was a voyage to possibility our death.

But even in the mist of such anxious times, I find myself in a sense of joy as I listen to my father telling us of his conversation that he had with the seer, where he was informed that Athlestan was alive.

Only the gods know how much joy that would bring to me. I believe that I saw in him what my father did. An honourable and pure man, not misguided by greed, power or hate. 

As I sway with the movement of the ship, Bjorn sits himself beside me. I slowly turn to look at him but his eyes do not meet my own, his blue orbs are transfixed on the horizon, a distant look within them.

I nudge my knee onto his own, "What are you thinking?"

His line of sight stutters for a second as he looks to the deck,"I am thinking about battle."His uneven breathing and fidgeting hands indicate that his thoughts of battle are not enthusiastic ones. I know this because I feel the same way.

"You have nothing to be fearful of. I will always be by your side." I gently cuff his shoulder in reassurance.

"You speak so simply—you always have. Sometimes I wish our father could do the same."

I offer him an apologetic look. Bjorn is a man, therefor father expects so much from him.
I always thought it cruel of how some fathers treat their sons like that. Then sometimes I envy it.

"You see Bjorn the world is a simple place. You trust the gods? I put myself in their hands. I have no will beyond their own."

"And Ragnar?" He challenges.

"Our father is different. He does not always submit to the gods. He challenges them. As you know he has always been full of questions."

We both share a smirk.

"LAND!"

Everyone including myself stands at the words of Irlander. Mindlessly my feet take me to the head of the ship, I grip onto the front as I stand high and look ahead to see the coast of England awaiting.

|

The warriors carry the remainder of our supplies onto our campsite. We were officially at England and just how does the god of this land welcome us? with a storm. But Floki says that it is Thor—letting us know he is by our sides.

I sit with mother and Eira, under the tent that we set up. Eira offers me ale and I decline. Being on a swaying ship for near a week hasn't been too kind to my stomach.

"So, I see both you and your brother have had your heads turned as of late." Mother asks as she eyes me curiously.

I look to her, already dreading the conversation to come, "I cannot speak for Bjorn but I assure you that my head is turned for no one." I explain.

I try to end the conversation at that by standing, but her words carry on.

"Gyda, I will say the same thing I told Bjorn. You are old enough to make your own decisions but you must be smart about it. How does it serve you? How will it serve your family?"

"I know all this." I begin to get annoyed.

"You are the only daughter of Ragnar and I. You have a high standing in our community. If you are to be with a man then let it be with someone who can offer you more than a thrall."

At this my eyes widen in shock.

"I am not in love with the thrall! He wished me to but I do not. Nothing has happened between us."

She looks me up and down curiously.

"You are still...untouched?" She awkwardly stumbles on a way to word that sentence.

I feel my cheeks warm up. Are we really having this conversation in front of Eira?

"Can you stop talking about this!" I'm flustered. I wanted to talk of battle strategy, I wanted to explore England—not this.

Her lips try to cover her amused smile as she regards my agitation, "Be calm, daughter. I will speak to you more about this another time"

Eira fails at muting her chuckle as her hand is cupped to her face. With giving mother one last look I walk out of the tent and towards my father's tent, where he sits eating a bowl of meat.

I plop myself on a chair close to him, he picks up his bowl and offers it to me, I shake my head, smiling at the crumbs in his beard. The tent is then intruded by the booming voice of the king who holds an extended arm to one of our riders disappearing into the woods.

"Where is he going?" Horik spits.

Raising his cup of ale to his lips, father gives off an exhausted reply, "I sent him to inform the king of our return."

Horik turns his chin up, looking down to Ragnar.

"Why?"

"So he knows we are here to talk and not to fight."

Looking around I notice everyone crowd around the tent, mother being the most noticeable one as she walks in to stand beside Horik.

"And you did that without consulting me?"
At the kings words, an aura of tension is brewed.

"I thought you would both agree." Father confesses. I offer a sympathetic look to my father, who looks to the ground, clearly frustrated.

"Why would you think that?" Horik raises his voice, calling on the attention of more people.

"Because it is a sensible policy."

Horik continued to stare father down. Rolling his eyes, father speaks, "Fine. I will...", He looks back to see that the rider is well gone by now.

"Unfortunately, it is too late to recall Torstein."

Discreetly I cover my hand lightly over my smirking lips. hiding it from mother and Horik who stand very still with anger.

"You should have discussed it with us first. King Horik is right!" Mother's tone is sharp as it slips through her teeth.

"I will try to remember that the net time Earl Ingstad." Father mumbles back as he sips more of his ale. At this stage the tension is thick and everyone around is wary.

"There is not going to be a next time Ragnar. Unless you agree that you will never ever do anything again without consulting it with me first."

The king has now sat on the table in front of father, his axe swaying tauntingly between his knees. As he glares at my father head on, his taunt continues.

"For you and I are not equals." The satisfaction in King eyes was enough for me to decide that I truly did not admire him like I use to. He loves to talk down and I had had just about enough of witnessing him do it to my father.

After the tense silence passes, the king changes the subject, "So what do you propose we do now?"

"Wait." Father answers as he continues to eat his meat.

"For what?" The kings tone is venomous.

"The unexpected." Father and I meet eyes. We both share an amused look. But the king again interrupts.

"Let me tell you what to expect—King Ecbert will send some envoy to trick us or some army to enilate us!" He stands and slams his axe into fathers table, almost splitting it.

"My king!"

All turn to the warrior who enters the tent.

"Torstein has returned and he's bought the saxons with him!"