Silk and Swords

Sharp Glances

There was no longer time for second-guessing. The day had come, today we left for York, for my father. I had never really left the villa, except for visiting near by villages for charity. The outside world always fascinated me, I dreamed of the places outside of my little world. The beautiful places created for man by God. Using ink and small pens, I would sketch little images of stunning flowers I could only wish existed. How could I pride myself on being the future queen of Northumbria if I had never even seen my own country?

One of my servants had already packed my things. My chamber felt cold, empty. My wardrobes almost completely depleted, my soaps and cosmetics packed. The roaring orange flames of my fireplace had long died. I did not expect to return. I did not want to return, especially if everything went to plan.

The thought of leaving forever was a strange, new one. Prior to meeting Ivar, I would have never left of my own accord. This was something that scared me as well. What would my life have been if he hadn't stormed the castle that night? Most of the court would still be alive but history wouldn't miss them. I imagined that I would still be daydreaming about a future that would never be. But Ivar did raid the castle and the future became possible.

Devona was coming as well. She met me by the castle gates, waiting the men pile our things into wagons. Devona and I were the only nobles besides my general accompanying the companies. It was only the two of us riding in the carriage. I invited Ivar to sit inside with us but he refused. He had his own contraption, similar to a carriage but with two wheels. I was curious to see how that worked. There were to be two guards on each side of us at all times at Ivar's orders. He said he didn't care who's men they were as long as they protected me. Of course, the first to volunteer to guard us was Frode, he arrived next to Devona. He escorted her everywhere.

It was curious to see how close Frode stood next to my friend. His body angled toward her, trying to be as close as allowed. I hoped that Devona's feelings for Frode would allow her to understand mine for Ivar. I don't know why I valued the approval of a former servant but her blessing was very important. I wouldn't be able to move forward with any relationship with Ivar until I had it.

"Good morning Edlin." Devona greeted me. The words were decent enough but her tone was distant and cold. She was still closed off to me.

Frode ruffled my hair, again. As if tradition, he did it every time he greeted me. "Freyr smiles upon us."

The Viking wasn't wrong. The sun shined, brightening the sky. It was a beautiful Spring day. The fields outside were bold green, the rain sent by Freyr had blessed Northumbria with crops to keep through the year and into winter. I found myself associating daily events with these strange new gods. In bed at night, it wasn't Jesus that I whispered to but the new gods. Suddenly, God wasn't as responsible anymore. The change in my basic beliefs scared and deeply shamed me. I had finally turned my back on something that had carried me through my life.

I didn't know how to respond to Frode's statement so I just nodded in agreement. In return, I received yet another disapproving look from Devona which only increased my shame. Devona wasn't the only one giving me looks.

Frode tilted his head to the side in interest. "Is this about Ivar?"

Devona shot him a sharp glare, causing him to shrink back in intimidation, causing me to giggle slightly. How was a towering warrior intimidated by a small, quaint woman? Just like Ivar, Frode must have understood that women are more than their looks, we could be rather scary too. 

I didn't have a chance to respond to Frode's remark before Devona said that the carriage was finally ready. Dreading the long ride, I sighed and Frode chuckled. "I would be miserable as well if I had to ride in that thing," Frode shouted in his language, only moments later a greasy and tall Viking handed him the reigns to a beautiful brown mare. He would be riding horseback while I suffered in a cage.

Frode carried a giant battle-ax that was stained with blood. It was a glorious weapon, the handle was made of strong, dark wood and the blade shined and glistened despite shedding the blood of men for the ten years since it was gifted to him. He told me how he hacked off men's limbs with it in battle many times. His specialty was arms. Before that might have risen bile in my throat but now it was rather fascinating. These people looked at violence in a completely different light then my people did and it was refreshing.

Frode wasn't the only other northern person I had built a relationship with. Ivar had many older brothers. Their order was Bjorn, Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd, and then Ivar. Bjorn had light hair like me and icy blue eyes. He was a mass of muscle and full of heart. He was the closest to Ivar, Ivar considered him an equal. Bjorn never turned down an opportunity to speak to me, he was always close by, watching me. He told me that he found me unbelievable, that I was so unlike anyone else he had ever met, well besides one. His mother. Bjorn talked a lot about his mother and how he found little similarities between Lagertha and me.

Bjorn was to be a second guard alongside the carriage, he had volunteered the same as Frode. Bjorn greeted me with an uplifting grin. His golden beard was shiny and inbound in tight braids. He had three weapons on his belt today, his simple but strong ax, his usual dirk, and a clean longsword. I had never seen such this fine blade before. I mentioned this.

He smiled once again. "I am very thankful that I did not kill the blacksmith when I first came across him." Bjorn's voice was deep and smoke-like. He withdrew the longsword from his belt and held it before us. The steel was smooth, spotless. "Isn't she beautiful?"

It was a gorgeous sword. The metal was as alluring as a magic spell to me. I wished to be able to swing it with grace. I blurted out my next words without even thinking. "I want to learn."

For a moment, Bjorn just gave me a confused look before understanding covered his face. He gestured the sword away from our group, indicating that we talk elsewhere. I followed. Bjorn returned the sword to his belt right before he spoke. "You wish to learn how to fight?"

"Yes." I did. Everyone around me besides Devona was always reveling in tales of battles won or their stories of grand adventures. I couldn't do anything but reading and paint. "I already know a little bit. My uncle used to sneak my lessons before he died." Women in my culture did not fight. Women barely were allowed to speak. But the northern culture was different. Women could not only speak but they could fight alongside the men. Shield Maidens were as respected as male warriors.

A spark lit up in Bjorn's eyes. I didn't need to convince him. "I will teach you."

I almost screamed with glee, though as a proper princess, I restrained myself. "Thank you, Bjorn."

A sense of seriousness entered his expression then. "My brother will not like this agreement." 

I scoffed. "What does Ivar have to do with this?"

Bjorn cleared his throat before speaking. He did want to avoid this coming topic. "Now that you are, um, Ivar's... I doubt that he would appreciate you being around me or any other man more than necessary."

My curiosity died right then, it was replaced by anger. "Excuse me? I'm Ivar's? I'm his what? I am certainly not his wife."

Bjorn was thoroughly embarrassed now, I could see the top of his blushing cheeks from behind his beard. "He did not call you his wife Edlin, only that you are his and his only to have."

Fury poured into my body, "I belong to no one."