The Chief slowly turned his head where the Knight's near black eyes cut towards the trees. Pausing a moment sure enough, he saw a familiar color and the movement of someone ducking behind a tree. Without turning to the Knight the Chief said, "Well, they obviously don't want to fight." Looking down to the worried boy the Chief smiled and said, "Well Little Fish, let's see who this is and then we'll go to my longhouse. I'll have my wife fix us a fine meal and while you eat fresh honeycombs, I'll see how well the Knight stands up to real honey mead!"
Giving the boy a reassuring pat on the shoulder the Chief looked back to where the person was hiding and said, "Come out. If we wanted to hurt you, we'd have done so." A few heartbeats passed and then a little red-haired girl sheepishly poked her head from behind a stout young oak tree. Little Fish's mouth fell open with surprise and he exclaimed, "Chief! She has hair the color of burning grass like you do!" Slightly disgruntled, the Chief replied, "What, you thought I was the only person with such hair?"
Gesturing to his companions, the Chief got down on one knee and gently waived for the girl to come over. A long tense moment passed and the girl stepped away from the tree. Her red hair was matted and the plainspun tunic she wore was filthy. Streaks of what looked to be dried blood and dirt crisscrossed her nearly round face. Only a pair of bright hazel eyes shined from beneath the visible dirt and misery.
Deliberately, the little girl walked toward the three travelers and then stopped just beyond arms reach from the Chief. Her hazel eyes which seemed far wiser than they should cast over the kneeling group. Feeling strangely unsettled the Chief asked, "What is your name girl and where are your people?" Those serious hazel eyes turned upon the Chief and the girl replied, "You're the Red Chief and the black demons brought you here to save us."
Casting a quick look at the Knight, the Chief saw the man took no offense at the girl's words. However, Little Fish's scrunched up face spoke volumes. Clearing his throat the Chief began to regret teaching his companions the Aesir language. "I promise you little one, my friends are not demons. They are from a land far from here. Now, tell me your name and I'll tell you mine."
Unmoved by the Chief's words the little girl replied, "They are too demons." Pointing at Little Fish the girl said, "He can move through the place beyond death." Pointing to the Valley Knight the girl then said, "This one is the Hand of Death. They brought you here to save us... and my name is Mjarga."
The Chief was taken aback for an instant. He'd only known one woman who bore that name and she was a venerable hag who had been a witch longer than anyone could remember. The Chief shuddered from the memories of the two times he had to go before her. Once when his father took him as a boy to get her blessing for succession and the last was just before he set off on the journey that would lead him to the Valley. He then remembered the old crone's strange warning, 'they would never lay eyes on each other again, but would soon meet in days to come.'
If that wasn't strange enough her final words were, 'she still held his gift and would give it to his people when the Red Tide returned.' The old witch was touched beyond all reasoning, but it always turned out bad when her warnings were ignored. However, this strange little girl must be one of Mjarga's descendants and inherited her touch from the gods. There was no doubt of the little girl's insight. Little Fish had brought them here at the Priestess' request through some strange under-waterway and she correctly called the Valley Knight for what he was!
Smiling, the Chief said, "Well Mjarga, a bargain is a bargain. My name is Svengald. Who are your people?" With unnatural calm, the girl named Mjarga moved near enough to embrace the Chief and replied, "My people will be your people Svengald the Red Chieftain." Mjarga then looked at Little Fish whose face still showed his displeasure at being called a 'Demon'. His annoyance increased ten-fold when Mjarga's pink little tongue shot out and her round face scrunched up to mimic his!
Both men rolled their eyes to keep from laughing and the Knight put a strong calloused hand at the back of irritated boy's neck. Gently, the Chief scooped up young Mjarga and said, "Let's off to my village and then we'll find your sire and dam. Once I give greetings to my wife, I'll see if my men arrived and what has brought the Vanir out of their holes!" Looking at the tree Mjarga hid behind as they passed made the Chief stop stock still.
Gazing from the tree out over the pond, he saw the familiar hills marking his people's lands but something was not right. Facing the far triple hills the Chief said, "There should be a great oak tree here, not a young stout! It had been here since my grandfather was a boy." Shaking his head, the Chief turned to the Knight and said, "There are many strange things I see. I have not been gone so long for a great oak to have died and fallen only to be replaced by a stout in the exact same spot! What is going on here?"
The Knight had no definite answer he dared mention to the Chief. This entire venture was awash with the otherworldly powers. The circumstances his wife determined were necessary for them to learn the fate of the Chief's men who made the perilous journey home. Upon finding answers, they were to bring those willing to come live in the Valley. Their departing goodbye's were accompanied by his wife's cryptic warnings. Then there was the vision Little Fish had regarding the Chief which set all this into motion to contend with.
After three years of marriage to his goddess wife in mortal guise, there was little doubt in the Knight's mind there was far more happening than what their eyes could see. The Knight's foreboding speculation was halted by a disgruntled Little Fish as he growled, "Who's she calling a demon? Old dirty fire-hair girl! I hate her...."
The Knight couldn't hold back a much needed chuckled as he warned, "You say that now boy, but it may not always be true. Come let's follow ‘Svengald’ to his village and we can see first-hand what type of people spawned our giant, hairy friend the color of a monkey's butt!" Just ahead over the boy's unbridled laughter the Chief said, "I heard that!"
****
The raiders rushed past the bewildered settlers as they limped or carried their wounded down to the waiting longship. They paid no mind to the piled sheep skins, furs or baskets of grain they demanded at swordpoint. Not even the five young maidens tied together gave the fleeing Vanir cause for attention. The settler's Headman watched perplexed, but not displeased to see the Vanir go away empty handed. However, the armed men had been attacked by something beyond the small settlement. But by what?
They had only been here only long enough to be a pair of months from their first harvest. Up until then, no one had seen anything in these lands which would cause a brace of armed warriors to carry off their wounded and dead in so great a hurry without taking what they came for. The Headman didn't have to speculate long for as the raider’s rowers took them far from shore, the strangest looking group came out of the forest.
A large red-skinned man flanked by what looked to be two black-skinned men one taller and powerfully built, the other like an older boy. What gave the Headman cause for greater alarm was the red man was carrying Mjarga! Screams rang out from the already distraught settlers at the sight of more strange armed interiors threatening them. To the Headman's mind the approaching group was no doubt the cause of the Vanir's hasty departure. He also noticed Mjarga seemed to be unafraid of the man carrying her or his companions.
That didn't quite bode well for it was well known Mjarga was 'touched' by the gods. The Headman was in a difficult situation. His small band of settlers were looking to him to contend with this new potential threat. They were in no position to fight off the Vanir and it was unlikely they could challenge those who had driven them off. Unsure of the best course of action, the Headman got down on bended knee and said, "Greetings mighty warrior. Welcome to my humble land."
From beside the Chief the Valley Knight's voice was a whisper intentionally loud enough to be heard, "So are we invisible to your people? Those Vanir saw us clearly enough." The Chief agreed, but he was distracted. Everything was wrong. They had come from the pond in the right direction yet, the established path to his village was overgrown. Where open areas lay with stone and sod homes, great trees stood in their places.
Strangest of all, facing out towards the mighty fjord which led to the sea his longhouse did not stand before him overlooking the bustling village he'd left months before! In fact, there was no village at all. Merely a handful of wood and sod huts with a large communal garden where the village center should be. The Chief knew he was in the right place, but the village and the people he'd left behind were not.
"What sorcery is this?" barked the Chief. All present were surprised as the Chief grabbed the smaller Headman and lifted him high bellowing, "Where are they? What have you done with my people? Where are my wife and my men? Where is my longhouse? Where are the docks, the longships, the grain storage houses, the farms, the slave house? What happened? Was it the Vanir? By Odin, how long have I been gone?"
It was then the Chief noticed through his clouded emotions the wail of the frightened Mjarga and the look of terror on the man's face he held off the ground. Again the Chief heard the Knight's calm voice behind him say, "Chief, shaking the man to death will not provide any answers." The calm remonstration brought the distraught Chief back to his senses and he carefully put the man and young girl down. Shamed by his outburst the Chief said, "I have wronged you. My name is Svengald son of Sljandir. I am, was chieftain of the Aesir people. I offer apologies if you will accept them."
The Headman put an arm around the still frightened girl and though shaken, he bore up before the warrior. "Svengald, Chief of the Aesir, I Utsgald son of Threllgar bid you welcome to our humble settlement. I know not of what you speak, for we have been here a short time. There was no sign that anyone has lived here until now." The Chief then said hopefully, "What of the witch Mjarga? She has been here since my people came here. If anyone here knew what happened, the old crone would!"
Utsgald looked at the obviously mad warrior who spoke of thing which obviously did not exist with such certainty. Were it not for the two black-skinned creatures that walked upright like men at his side, Utsgald would just think the warrior a fool. "Chief Svengald, there is no witch here. The only woman bearing the name Mjarga here is this woman-child clutching my tunic in fear of you. She came here with us after her parents were killed in a raid on our homeland."
The 'wrongness' of all this was beginning to unhinge the Chief. He had heard the Headman's words but they hadn't fully registered. Suddenly, they began to. "What say you were the names of your father and self?" The Headman did his best to humor the man who saved his settlement and said calmly, "I am Utsgald son of Threllgar and this is Mjarga my adopted daughter." The Chief's sun darkened complexion paled dramatically and a concerned Little Fish asked, "Chief, are you all right?" The Chief said in a subdued voice, "Utsgald, give us a moment."
It was Mjarga who started pulling on Utsgald's tunic to get him to move. Looking up at the Headman the young girl snapped, let me show you what the demons did." Those bright hazel eyes of his adopted daughter compelled the Headman to follow her lead. The group of settlers gathered also fell in behind them for none felt it safe to stay with the strangers.
As the little girl urged him towards the forest above the settlement, Utsgald cast a look back to where the red-skinned Chieftain stood with his 'demons' as Mjarga called them. Whether their arrival was boon or bane, was yet to be seen. It was certain the Vanir Chieftain would not take the killing of his men and the withholding of what he thought was his rightful tribute lightly. Once more Mjarga tugged hard on Utsgald's tunic to turn his attention back where they were going.
The Knight looked to the Chief and saw a mixture of fear and disbelief on his face. The last time he'd seen it was the first time they met when the young fools under his charge awoke the Mountain. "Give word to what troubles you friend."
The Chief was troubled for certain. Everything was starting to make sense to him, but how it happened did not. "Sir Knight, the Headman and the girl are exactly who they say they are." Taking a step forward, the Chief spread his arms and said mockingly, "And this is my home!
© 2011 H. Wolfgang Porter. All Rights Reserved.
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