We ran to the jarl's house, where we were the last few to join. Though the room was packed, we would not win. There was a reason why we were left behind. The men here did not fight well enough to join or were still recovering from wounds. There were far more women than men here, but none of us were shieldmaidens.
"Thyra!" Kolþerna shouted at me over the commotion, which caused most people to shut up. She was swaying heavily because she was drunk and in pain. My heart sank to my stomach. This was our assigned leader? This was our mighty shieldmaiden? "How many men? How many berserkers?"
"Six berserkers, three ships filled with warriors." I told her. Kolþerna seemed happy by this, rather than shocked. I looked around the room and started counting heads. There were forty people here, but some might be in the way more than actually provide any help. We were doomed.
And then a thought came to me, a thought that might turn the tide in this monstrous sea. "Let the thralls fight." I said before even considering anything else. Kolþerna laughed as though I had said something funny. There were enough slaves in Hraun to make a difference in our numbers.
"What would they fight for?" She slurred. "They can't even fight!"
"Neither can we," I argued. "If we offer them freedom-"
"You want to set free an entire town's worth of slaves?" She asked me, wobbling over to me with an axe in one hand and her crutch underneath the other.
"It is better to fight alongside them than to have them pick up our bodies for their new masters," I told her. "Look around Kolþerna! Even if we were decent fighters we do not have the numbers."
I had been so focussed on Kolþerna that I had not looked to see what others thought of my plan. When I did I found most people nodding along with me, rather than the famous shieldmaiden.
"I will not," she nearly tripped over her own feet as she got up in my face. "I shall never free the thralls, they are not under your command."
"So what is the plan then?" Someone asked from the corner of the room. I looked through the window to see how close they had gotten. The last ship was still making its way around the bend. Though it was clear water ahead until they hit the beach, they would not pick up their speed. They could not risk tiring out their men before they fight.
Right outside the big wooden doors of the house were a large group of people. They were a large blob of brown, for we did not want to waste dye on the clothes of slaves. Some looked at me with big eyes, worried that I would punish them for listening in.
"We meet them on the beach. We make sure none of them gets to land." Kolþerna answered.
We all waited for more, but nothing came. This was her plan, a plan that made sense in her drunken mind. For a brief moment we made eye contact, and I could see that this was not her only motivation. She could not risk dying in her bed, she wanted to go out fighting.
My father had once told me that every man gets three opportunities to be noticed by the gods in their lifetime. One for the Allfather, an opportunity for wisdom. One for Thor, to show your power, and one for Tyr, to show your bravery. He had then turned to his daughters and said that women only get one opportunity, supported by Freya. I believe he meant for this to be during childbearing. But as I watched Kolþerna struggle to even say the words of her plan, I knew we would all die if we were to follow it. I felt the eyes of the gods on me. They were looking down with interest.
What would she do with her one opportunity?
YOU ARE READING
Tales of Infamy (Viking)
Historical Fiction"I shall think of you every time the sun shines upon me." He whispered against my skin. "Every time my heart beats." Thyra was raised on the sagas. She tells the stories to her nieces and nephews, she prays to the gods for a son of her own. But when...
