Ghilda Svengaldsvife stood at the prow of her longship. Behind her at the oars were twenty-four of Aesirford’s finest Shield Maidens bending strong backs to keep well ahead of the many boats racing out into the fjord. Above Ghilda’s head placed in the single eye of the carved figurehead was the magic yellow stone given to her by the ancient witch Mjarga. Even the brilliant light of morning breaking through fading storm clouds could not suppress the bright amber glow coming from the stone.

     Ghilda also could not suppress the ear-to-ear grin stretching across her face. There was good reason for the stone’s bright glow as it responded to a similar one hundreds of yards out in the fjord. Her husband Svengald was coming home!

     Ten uncertain years passed since her husband and great Chief of the Aesir sailed off to find the fabled ‘City of Golden Towers’. Long had the tales of a place with fabulous wealth in gold, slaves and more been thought to be just tales. But when a swarthy-skinned Sea Trader was swept into Aesirfjord from the most terrible of storms in memory, he did more than tell tales of the great city.

     In his ship’s hold were items of such fine craft many thought them made by the gods! Shimmering fabrics such as silk in colors similar to those seen in the ‘Bifrost’ the Rainbow Bridge to Asgard were among vessels of gold, silver and a metal called ‘copper’ which he used for cooking.

     What sparked serious discussion of mounting a trading expedition were the knives made of ‘wood-iron’. The small blades were crafted by a secret process which made them look like they were carved from wood, but were lighter and stronger than any iron blade made in Aesirfjord.

     In a rare appearance in the Great Hall, the Witch Mjarga told the tale of how their land and people were founded by ‘The Red Chieftain’ and his two ‘Black Demons’. Holding up one of the Trader’s unique knives, Mjarga claimed the Red Chieftain’s demon called, ‘The Hand of Death’ carried a black sword made in the same manner. The very mention of the old tale set the warriors of Aesirfjord to thinking what such weapons could do within their hands!

     The Trader then showed what he called ‘coins’ made of gold and silver. Stamped upon them was the profile of a man’s face on one side and three arrow-like towers on the other. Finally, proof of the Great City’s existence could be held and seen by all! Svengald called for volunteers for three ships to escort the Trader back to the City to open trade. Such riches to be had would make Aesirfjord a kingdom!

     Within days, the longships were loaded and ready to disembark. Much to Ghilda’s vehement objections, Svengald would not allow her to come on the expedition.

     “Someone must hold my claim to rule while I am gone woman and there is no one I trust more than you.”

     Svengald’s words burned into her mind all those years ago and she took them to heart. Ghilda ruled Aesirfjord with a strong hand so the land and its people prospered. But after so long a time, Ghilda had all but given up on Svengald returning from the sea. No sign of the three ships which set sail that day nor any of the men aboard them were ever seen again.

     With strong candidates for suitors coming to her every year with marriage proposals, Ghilda knew she would need to remarry while she was still young and strong enough to bear children. Still fiercely loyal to Svengald, Ghilda paid visit to the Witch and asked of her husband’s possible return. The Crone’s answer was far more cryptic than usual.

     “You shall lay eyes upon your living husband. But you shall share neither word nor embrace. For as he returns from the sea, so it shall reclaim him. In his wake, the land shall suffer. To reclaim both husband and salvation for all Aesir, you must travel the storm filled seas to the home of gods, demons and men.”

     It was then the Witch Mjarga took Ghilda’s hand in hers. The ruler of Aesirfjord fought the urge to recoil in the Witch’s powerful leathern grip. With a squeeze, Ghilda’s hand was forced open and in it was placed a fist-sized leather pouch. Mjarga’s sharp cedar colored eyes transfixed the younger woman’s hazel ones making it impossible for her to turn away.

     “When next you put to sea, take this pouch with you. Do not open it until you are far from the sight of land. Take what is inside out and place it on your ship where it can guide your way. Do not lose the pouch or its contents! Forever lost will you be if you do….”

     Now was not the time for confusing warnings from ancient crones. At the prow of her longship, Ghilda saw packs of fishermen waving in their boats and pointing towards the mouth of the fjord.

     “Put your backs to it women! I can see a golden light upon the head of a dragon ship!”

     Ghilda felt the longship lurch forward as her fellow shield maidens pulled hard on the oars. Many of her crew had men who set sail towards the horizon with Svengald. They too earnestly wished to learn the fate or fortunes found by their loved ones. Placing her hand over her eyes and squinting to shield them from the risen sun, she saw him!

     “SVENGALD!”

     Calling to him at this distance was silly, but Ghilda felt the same rush of excitement when she first laid eyes upon the young man who would be her husband. Ten long years she ached to lie within his arms once more and the mere sight of the man she waited for caused an upwelling of tears to burst from her.

     Once more Ghilda bellowed his name and the shield maidens took it up as a chant as they hauled on the oars.

     “Svengald! Svengald! Svengald! Svengald!” echoed across the fjord as the fleet of boats closed upon the single long lost longship.

     The chant was taken up by all the boat crews racing towards Svengald’s ship. Ghilda gripped the carved head of the one-eyed giant from Jontunheim on the prow and watched in amazement as the yellow stone within the eye socket burned brighter the nearer her husband’s ship drew towards hers.

     Within moments, she could see Svengald moving to the rear of the longship as his men seemed disturbed by a commotion. A sudden concern washed over Ghilda as her husband ran towards the aft end of his ship. Behind the longship, a brilliant burst of blue light caused all who saw it to cover their eyes. The last thing Ghilda saw before covering hers was Svengald leaping over the side into the water!

     Pulling her arm away from her eyes, Ghilda fought to see past the brilliant spots and stars clouding her vision. The men aboard the longship were in an uproar and were stumbling to the aft of the longship. As her vessel pulled alongside theirs, she heard their cries of dismay and looked to where they pointed. Behind lay a great whirlpool bathed in brilliant blue light! Over the roar of the diminishing watery vortex, Ghilda called out to the returned men.

     “Where is Chief Svengald?”

     All who were able again pointed to the nearly closed whirlpool and shouted, “He flung himself into the spinning abyss!”

     In horror, Ghilda looked back towards the whirlpool only to see it diminish to nothing. As she gripped the edge of her ship in preparation to scream her husband’s name, a sudden swell rose from where the vortex had been.

     Turning to her crew she shouted, “Brace yourselves!”

     The prow of the longship abruptly rose towards the sky as the wave threatened to toss them backwards end over end. Ghilda lost her hold on the raised lip of the ship’s side and fell headlong aft down the centerline.

     Just as she prepared to slam into the ship’s mast, Ghilda’s flight was checked by several pairs of hands grasping her flailing arms and flapping garments! Several of the shield maidens held her fast while maintaining good purchase on the oar benches and ship’s ropes. Other maidens were not so lucky as grasping hands missed them and they slammed into the raised lip then disappeared over the side.

     The swell was having similar effect on the other boats out in the fjord as Ghilda heard the screams of men over the sound of the cresting wave. As the longship overtopped the swell, the women aboard saw the great height they had reached and realized it was headed for shore.

     There was a moment of unsettling weightlessness and then a stomach tightening fall down the dizzying slope of the mountainous wave! All still aboard the longship held on for dear life wide-eyed and with clenched teeth. As the gods saw fit, the vessel maintained an even keel as it transitioned from the wave’s slope to base at speed. The drag on the mast with the fully unfurled mainsail threatened to snap it in twain!

     Ghilda groaned as her stomach lurched and the rushing air blew free the elaborate braids she wore obscuring her vision with whipping red locks. As she and her fellow shield maidens held fast, the worrisome sound of the straining mast grew louder. Alas, none could make their way over and secure the sail! If she could draw breath, Ghilda would call out to the goddess Freya to hold the mast firm.

     A gradual easing of her lurching bowels came as the longship moved beyond the base of the wave. Though it was slowing the ship, Ghilda ordered the sail raised to spare the straining mast. It would have to be inspected once they got to calmer waters. In the meantime, the Aesir woman made her way portside to take stock of her crew and see how any other boats fared.

     Looking about, Ghilda saw the ship’s condition was well enough but there was a loss of four crewwomen and several oars had snapped. What was disturbingly apparent, the longship and crew had been driven far out to sea. Nowhere over the vast horizon could they lay eyes upon the mountaintops of Aesirfjord!

     “All right, we are still in good shape. We just need to get a bearing from the sun and ….”

     To Ghilda's surprise, the sun was not where it should be in the sky. Instead of early morning, the sun had moved into the late afternoon sky!

     “How can this be? T’was only moments since we sailed that mighty wave….”

     It was her First Woman who sharply asked, “Chief’s Vife, where are we? The sun is not where it should be. I cannot recall what heading we took as we rode that demon wave!”

     Ghilda could see her crew was near panic and she could not blame them for she stood but a hand’s width from it herself. It was then she realized the ship had finally slowed to calmer water. Knowing there was little they could do at this point, Ghilda clamped down on her fears and took charge.

     “Drop anchor! We’ll wait here until nightfall. Once the stars come out, we will be able to get a bearing back to Aesirfjord. In the time between now and then, post lookouts for any other boats and check the mast. If a sudden wind comes up, I don’t want it to snap on us without a full set of oars aboard.”

     While her crew busied themselves, Ghilda stood at the prow looking out to sea. Though she was actually searching for other boats, she needed the space to get a handhold on all that had happened. Why did Svengald leap into the sea at her approach? It made no sense! Ten years they had been separated and for him to throw himself into a strange whirlpool?

     An unexpected remembrance came to mind as she feverishly pondered the strange occurrence. There was the line from the Saga of Aesirfjord where after the battle between her husband’s namesake ‘Svengald the Red Chieftain’ and ‘Ragmar Oathbreaker’, the defeated Vanir Chieftain was taken down to Nifelheim by a black demon. The demon appeared in the fjord just offshore and snatched Ragmar down into a whirlpool made of light!

     Could that too have been Svengald’s fate? But she saw no demon carry him off to the netherworld. She watched with her own eyes as he ran the length of the longship and dove headlong over the side! The sinking feeling concerning the fate of her husband wasn’t the only thing troubling Ghilda. They were far from land with no heading and no idea of how far they were from Aesirfjord.

     Since they were simply going out to meet a returning ship, there were no supplies of food or fresh water aboard. No one aboard carried any weapons save their personal knives and not a sword, spear, shield or axe were to be had. Lastly, the main fear roiling in the pit of her stomach was the memory of watching the great wave headed towards the shores of Aesirfjord! They had to get back and find out what became of their country and countrymen. But, nothing could be done until nightfall.

To be continued....
© 2016 H. Wolfgang Porter. All Rights Reserved.