It had been written that the daughter of Ragnar Lothbrok was taken to Valhalla as a young girl.
But what if the gods didn't take her? What if the gods spared her?
Gyda Ironside, the only daughter of Ragnar and Lagertha rejoins her family as a train...
While it was still unknown of what we were to do now regarding the raid one thing was for sure— we had to send off our dead. The brave men and women who died on this day—because of a foolish kings orders.
I stand next to Eira in the crowd, waiting for when it was my turn to contribute to this ceremony. A moment later my mother turns around and hands me the bow and arrow.
I swallow my exhaustion and accept the weapon. I position the arrow in the bow, leaning down towards the small fire that burns in the bowl I light the head.
Leaning upright I pull the string back. Back straight, arms straighter. Then I release.
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The arrow flies high then blows itself down low and finally into the small boat that floats upon the river amongst the many other boats. It didn't take long for the arrows flame to catch onto the boat and soon it was engulfed, turning the warriors into ashes that will float with the wind to Valhalla.
I thought about how I hoped I wouldn't have to repeat this ceremony for my uncle. He was the toughest man I knew, he could not be dead—no I wouldn't believe it. He would come back to us.
||
The rain had stopped that night. The moon was full and luminous. I sit on a log around the fire outside my tent, sipping on a cup of ale I had been sitting on for a while now—too cautious of how drunk I got the last time.
The logs shifts, I turn in surprise.
"Nels?" I make him out in the darkness. His cape is pulled around himself as he too sips from a cup.
"You seem surprise to see me" He smirks. I shake my head as I look back to the flames.
"Well I...didn't realise you had come with us. Are you here with your father?" I try to distract him from the red flush the I felt in my face. Memories of our last interaction filling my thoughts.
He shakes his head yes.
"Who is your father? You say he is a friend of Ragnar?"
"Yes, a very good friend. My father is Torstien." I blink to him shocked.
"Your father is Torstien? All this time you were his son? How did I not know he had a son?"
Nels nods his head smirking, "He doesn't like to talk about me much, I was a prick of a child." I join in his laughter. "But I found that when I became a man we became closer. He was only a boy himself when he had me. He didn't plan for children. My mother was just a young girl he chased around, there was not a strong love there. He could have easily ran off and left my mother and I to fend for ourselves as many men do but he didn't—he was there. Up until they both realised that marriage was not going to work for them. She took me and made a home in Hedeby and he use to take me to Kattegat for visits when he could."
