"Are you certain? There could be some mistake." Though the Knight said the words, he didn't believe them for an instant. The Chief turned to him with a near crazed look while pointing where the settlers went and said, "The Gods only know how, but that little girl is Mjarga the Witch and Utsgald is my grandfather's grandfather! How could such a thing happen?" The Knight had suspected something was amiss from the time they arrived. To his mind, there was only one among them who had the answer. "Little Fish...."
The fire was welcomed by Little Fish as he huddled near it under the clear night sky. It was late and except for the settlers on watch for the raiders to return, they had the fire to themselves. At least that annoying girl was gone off to sleep with her father Utsgald. It was hard to believe that the Headman was or is, the Chief's grandfather's grandfather! They had even met the woman who was pregnant with the Chief's grandfather's father!
Instead of just coming to the Chief's village, they had returned to its distant past! How they were going to get back to the Valley without going wrong brought tears to the boy's eyes. A sudden swat on the back of his neck brought Little Fish from the depths of doubt. He also saw he was not the only one who was miserable, for the Chief looked more forlorn than he did. The sting of the swat was followed by another chiding by the Knight.
"For the final time boy, it was not your fault we are here when we are. You merely followed the vision of home the Chief gave you. Chief, it isn't your fault either. How could any of us have known our thoughts must be precise when traveling as we did? You thought of the place you swam as a boy and here we came. Why we did not come during the time of your boyhood remains to be seen." Both the Chief and Little Fish looked to the Knight as the crackling fire illuminated his hard dark features and listened intently.
"I suspect we are here now because we are supposed to be. Think on how circumstance raised events to make our arrival here possible? Chief, your men went on the perilous journey to go back home. Little Fish you fell into the hidden well, learned of the dark place and how to travel within it. Then there was your overwhelming desire to find your men Chief and the 'convenient' loophole my wife was able to get all of us to come with you. I tell you all that occurred because we are exactly where we are supposed to be, when we're supposed to be here."
While his companions absorbed what he just said, the Knight thought on the words his wife shared with him. Her regret that she could not bear his children, her request that he leave her side as protector to accompany the Chief and most perplexing, was her return of the weapons he'd foresworn the day he married the Priestess. They had returned to the past for a reason and no doubt it would make itself plain soon.
The Chief sat up and rubbed his face vigorously to chase away the gloom. Several moments passed and he said, "Odin's beard..., I know why we are here! Remember, it was in the drinking song I told during the night your wife's husband the god Qatula came to visit!"
The Knight remembered that long night of drinking and storytelling where the men and women from both Valley and Surround tried and failed to tell more tales than a god. Before the Chief was nearly drunk into a burial shroud, he told the tale of the 'Red Chieftain' who commanded two black demons that helped vanquished his people's enemies and founded his country. "So I guess that makes Little Fish the 'Gateway Demon', me 'The Hand of Death' and you the 'Mighty Red Chieftain'."
The Chief nodded in agreement and then said, "Aww great frozen ballocks! Do you remember how the song goes?" Dismayed Little Fish replied, "No, I didn't get to hear that story!" "No you did not," said the Knight. "You had fallen asleep long before its telling. Yes, I remember the song Chief. There was an attack during the night of the Red Chieftain's arrival." Nodding the Chief replied, "That very night is upon us."
****
The sound of oars sculling the night dark waters of the fjord was welcome to the ears of Ragmar son of Edlmir and Chieftain of the Vanir. Each stroke of the oars brought him closer to the upstart red-haired devils who dare deny him rightful tribute and killed his men. Never before had any of these rock and mud-grabbing settlers within his territory managed to raise a fist against his raiders. Never mind them taking down nearly the entire raiding party!
Then there was the matter of this 'Red-Chieftain' and his insults. Somehow he'd bested some of his finest men with sword, shield and magic arrows. Ragmar didn't believe the 'magic' part of the tale the survivors told, but it was probable a skilled warrior had appeared among the settlers. Ragmar could not allow a bunch of hard-scrabble fishermen, shepherds and farmers living in an area perfect for launching raids in his territory to rise up against him.
This soon to be 'Dead-Chieftain' would find himself bent over in front of his imagined longhouse 'receiving tribute' from Ragmar's spear. Just before that, Ragmar intended to show this son of a hundred whores he was not 'an unworthy name thief'. He was Ragmar survivor of fifty raids, bear-slayer, champion of twenty-nine duels and Chieftain of the Fjords. All who defied him fell to his sword and axe! Tonight, he would have his thirtieth victory and add the entire settlement to his collection of thralls. The sound of the sculling oars was only raising the Vanir Chief's desire for blood.
****
The Aesir Chief squatted upon what in his time was the 'Founder's Rock' which stood as silent guardian on the steep sloping shore to the settlement. It was hard to believe he was actually waiting to fight the battle his people sang songs about for generations! In his very hands lay the future of the Aesir. Very soon, he would do battle with the fearsome Vanir Chieftain Ragmar of legend. The whole prospect of being the one charged with defending the lives of his grandfather's soon to be born father was beyond belief! Yet, covered beneath a gray blanket to blend in with the growing mists the Chief waited to fight the battle that created the Aesir people.
The Chief was somewhat skeptical of the Valley Knight's plan to do battle with what would most likely be four or more longships filled with hardened sea raiders. However, he had bore witness to the Knight's judgments in skirmishes with beasts and otherworldly beings. The Knight nor the Priestess ever spoke of the black warrior's past. It was evident to the Chief his friend and ally was born of the fires of war and wet nursed on the blood of men. Though that may be true, there was no way under Odin's gaze he was going to let that black-skinned killer of men out do him this night!
It was then the Chief heard the all too familiar sound of oars being stowed before making landfall. The Chief smiled for just as the songs had told, four longships ground to a halt upon the steep gravel shore. Atop the rock the Chief watched the torches of armed blonde-haired warriors a quarter bow-shot's distance away as they disembarked their ships. It was a good sized force as each ship held a maximum of twenty men. There was an armed warrior for every man woman and child in the settlement! It was then the Chief caught sight of the Vanir raider’s leader.
****
Splashing down into the chill water, Ragmar felt the sudden shock as it saturated his wool breeches and filled his boots. He felt the drag on his fur cape as it too absorbed the water soaked into the trailing edge. Trudging up the steep gravel covered shore, Ragmar realized this was the first time he'd set eyes and feet on this part of his territory. So far in the thickening mist he wasn't impressed. The settlers were either too lazy or too afraid to have posted guards to give warning. Eager for the night's coming bloodletting Ragmar cheerfully said, "Just as well to kill them in their sleep as go through the bother of waking them up."
Waving for his first man Ragmar placed a hand on the plain helmeted raider and growled, "Find this 'Red' son of a boy whore who dared call me a ‘name thief’. Let him know Ragmar son of Edlmir Chieftain of the Fjords has come to bend over in front of his longhouse." An unfamiliar voice within the mist said, "Just as well for you to bend over where you stand instead of bothering to do it in front of my longhouse." Warily the Vanir Chief's first man raised his torch to see into the mist only to be greeted with a black arrow through the iron nose piece of his helmet.
"HUUKHH!" grunted the raider who was dead before he struck the ground. The sound of gasps and swords being drawn filled the air as the Vanir made ready for battle. A raider raised his axe to throw into the mist and screamed in surprise and agony. Lowering his arm, all could see the black arrow sticking through both his hand and the hardwood handle. Ragmar was impressed with the bowman's deadly accuracy. Unabashed the Vanir Chieftain calmly said, "Is this to be a shooting match or is this Red Chieftain going to face me?"
The sound of footfalls on gravel echoed from the mist and the raiders followed the sound to where it stopped. Vanir bowman launched a flight of arrows into the mist but only heard the sound of arrows skittering across the gravel shore. From beside the Vanir Chief that unfamiliar voice said as the point of a sword poked his neck, "Now that wasn't nice." Involuntarily, Ragmar's ballocks and bunghole seized from the unearthly appearance of this mysterious challenger to his rule.
Two of Ragmar's men moved to his aid but were halted by the twin sounds of black arrows through their helmets and skulls. The Aesir Chief's blue eyes did not leave Ragmar's gray as the two men fell over dead. The gasps of fear from the Vanir warriors were met with the Chief's grin. Actually, he was doing his best to suppress the urge to chuckle because there was no doubt the Knight was showing off. With the tension thick the Chief said with evil cheer, "Well, we meet at last. Here stands before me the legendary Ragmar, Chieftain of the Vanir. How exciting! I thought you'd be bigger...."
© 2011 H. Wolfgang Porter. All Rights Reserved.
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