A Norseman's Legend
Chapter 1
Part 1: A Child’s Voice
Chapter 1: Valhale, 846 AD
“But Daddy, why can’t I fight like the other children?” a small child feebly asked, pouting innocently to her father.
“Because, my darling, you must take a different path in life, like your mother,” her father answered, pulling his daughter into his arms for a bear-hug.
The child pushed him away and turned her head. “I don’t wanna lead a different path! I wanna fight... like you!”
“Listen, my child, it is not a proper place for a young lady to fight in combat. Now, no more arguments tonight. I will have Helga tuck you in and I will see you in the morning.” He kissed her forehead, placed the child onto her bed, and left the room.
Before her nursemaid, Helga, had come into the room to check on her, she had fallen into a deep slumber. Yet slumber for this child did not come peacefully, for her dreams slowly became nightmares. She dreamt of fighting alongside her father, in every battle or crusade he sieged; she dreamt of becoming one of the greatest warriors ever to live in the Viking lands. She dreamt of her mother, or at least from what she assumed, a mother figure.
She knew her mother, but only from the stories her father told her. He would tell the child of her mother’s beauty, that she was one of the most beautiful of Viking maids. Her hair was a fine-stranded blond hue, her eyes as blue as the sky on a perfect day. Her father would often tell her she reminded him of her mother and often times weep after his storied had ended. Her father told her never to weep at the stories as he had done, for she watched over them both from Valhalla, the place of the gods, and that their homeland was in fact named after this place for that reason.
Repeatedly she would ask her father to tell her stories of her mother’s bravery. Her father would simply smile, pat her on the head, look away and say yes, she was very brave, one of the bravest of all Viking women. To Katarina, the stories of a brave woman warrior were few and far between, so when she asked about her mother, she was often surprised that her father would never tell her the stories she was searching for. She had always felt that a woman like the mother of his stories would have been one of the greatest Viking warriors and she oft wished she had someone like that to look up to. She never understood her father’s words, not until the nightmares had begun...
Katarina Valcurrie woke up in a cold sweat early the next morning, crying until her nursemaid came to her. Helga ran in to see what was wrong with her poor child and cradled her protectively, even after her father entered the room and sat next to them on the bed. Helga gently pulled Katarina away from her and looked at her delicate face. She took a soft cloth from her pocket and wiped the teardrops out of her eyes.
“There now, my child. All is well,” Helga concluded after taking the kerchief away.
“What happened?” her father asked in a demanding tone, not to his daughter, but rather to her maid.
Helga let go of Katarina’s frail fingers and turned to face her father. “She has had another nightmare, sire.”
“How long have these ‘nightmares’ been going on?” Katarina’s father asked, quite concerned.
“For a week now, sire,” she answered him, bowing her head as she spoke.
“Why? What for?” he questioned.
“I do not know sire. Perhaps asking your child may be the best way to get your answers,” Helga replied.
Katarina’s father, Leif, looked directly into his daughter’s bright sea-green eyes, and tried to see within them beyond her tears. “Why do you weep so, my child?” he replied, trying to comfort her with his words. Yet Katarina remained silent.
“Please Kat,” he pleaded. “Tell me what troubles you.”
“What happened to her?” she asked innocently.
“It was like I have told you. She died several years ago, bringing you into this world.”
Katarina could not say a word. Her mind raced with images she herself could not understand, images of her nightmares. The images of her mother remained there, plastered in her head, making her confused and scared. She trembled with fear as she wept again and fell into Helga’s arms.
“There, there, child. All will be well,” she comforted. “All will be well,” she concluded, giving Leif an awkward look.
* * * * *
“But it would hurt her greatly if I tell her the truth!” Leif argued later than morning.
He and Helga sat by the fireplace of the great hall drinking imported tea. After they had finally sufficed in getting the child back to sleep, they both retreated downstairs to discuss the matter at hand. Helga got up from her seat and began pacing the floor, tea cup in hand, not spilling a drop.
“But sire, it will hurt her more to know that you, her very own father, kept such a secret from her!” she argued.
“I cannot! It would crush her heart to know the truth! I will not do that to my only daughter, my only child!”
Leif Valcurrie was a hard man, not easily broken, and even though his age proved him younger, a few wisps of gray showed through his thick mane of sandy brown hair. He was the jarl of Valhale, so conveniently named after the gods’ own Valhalla, and he ruled over one of the strongest Viking clans to date. His war fleet consisted of the strongest, bravest warriors and the fastest longboats ever seen in all of Scandinavia. But even this armada could not help solve his dilemma now.
“Suit yourself, sire, but in my most humble opinion-.”
“Your opinion was not asked for!” he bellowed. “When I want it I will ask for it! Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sire,” Helga said softly, bowing her head as she spoke.
“Why do you question what I do, Helga? I am only looking out for the well-being of my daughter,” Leif replied.
“I understand your wishes, sire, but I have seen children like her before. These children can see things through their dreams, sometimes truths and secrets others would never tell, but that the gods themselves might be showing them in their sleep. Perhaps she does know about her mother after all,” Helga answered in return.
“What about my mother?” a stern but childlike voice asked from the entrance to the hall. Both Helga and Leif exchanged a worried glance but said nothing.
“Dear, come and sit, have something to eat,” Helga said, pulling her into the room.
“No!” Katarina spat and pulled herself away forcefully.
“Come now, dear,” her father said. “Do not upset Helga.”
Leif sat opposite his daughter at the table, waiting patiently for his angel to speak. She spoke few words but even so few meant so much to his heart. “Where is Mamma now?” she demanded, looking deliberately into her father’s eyes.
“Your mother is-,” Leif looked at Helga for advice but she gave him none. “She-she was taken from us,” he said solemnly.
“I knew it!” Katarina shouted, jumping up from her chair. “You sold her, didn’t you? Didn’t you?” she demanded.
“Please Kat, believe me, I had no choice!”
“You sold her Daddy! You sold her for all the riches you have!”
Katarina could no longer hold her emotions and began to cry. Even for a young child of nine, she was able to reason quite well and her dreams told her what he said was true. She attempted to run out of the hall but Helga stepped in her way and she was quickly embraced by the softest of arms.
“Kat, come here and let me explain to you about your mother,” her father said. Katarina straightened herself and let go of Helga. Turning to face her father, she wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. He opened his arms to embrace his daughter, who ran to him, arms outstretched.
“I’m sorry for what I did,” he whispered into her hair. “Please forgive me, Kat.”
“Tell me what happened to her!” she pleaded, her tears coming back into her eyes. Without protest, she let herself be picked up and placed into her father’s lap. He wrapped his arm around his daughter protectively and sighed deeply before beginning his tale.
“Your mother was one of the most beautiful of Viking women, which is also where you get your beauty. Being so, she was continuously courted by Viking warriors, but she felt no attraction towards them. It was not until she met me that her heart fell. Even after we were wed, a happy marriage at that, she was still sought after. It was up to me, her protector, to make sure no harm was done to her, or to her expected child. You came into our lives as a blessing, and a promise- a promise from the gods that no harm would fall upon this house or this clan.
“Yet even with the promise of a healthy child, harm and chaos fell upon us. Another warrior from a distant land would not believe the stories of her beauty unless he saw it for himself. He disguised himself as a merchant, paying homage to your birth, and was taken aback by what he saw, both in her and you. Soon after that first encounter, he coveted her more than any other Viking woman. He declared war on Valhale, claiming he wanted the riches I owned. Naturally, I never expected those ‘riches’ to be your mother. Because of this clan’s skill in weaponry, his warriors fell quickly in battle, surrendering almost immediately. Before this warrior fell, he told me these words, and to this day I have not forgotten them.”
Leif paused once to shut his eyes and squint the tears away before continuing. “He told me this: ‘I may have lost a battle, I may have lost a war; but you, my enemy, will lose something more. For in this treaty I will sign, to me you will give what should be mine. Your child or your wife you must choose, for one of them you will lose. And the tale that will be told is of the man who gave, either his wife or child to be another man’s slave!’”
Katarina gasped as she heard her father’s words. She could not believe someone could be so cruel as to make her father choose between the two things he cherished most. She wrapped her arms around his neck, not wanting to let go, but he pulled her away, shaking his head as he spoke.
“There is more my dear. Let me continue please,” Leif pleaded, wanting even now to end his pain.
“No!” Katarina shouted, pushing away and clasping her hands over her ears. “No more, please Daddy, no more!”
“Kat!” he called after her as she ran for the door, this time without Helga stopping her. “Please!” Yet his words could not reach her.
Katarina ran as fast as her small legs could carry her. She ran through the main corridors, past the front gates, and to her right towards the stables, dodging merchants and servants as she went. When she finally reached the stables, she slammed the door closed and sank to the floor, tears already staining her eyes. She almost cried out when a servant came out from behind a stable carrying a bail of hay.
“Hello, my Kat,” the voice said cheerfully. Without saying a word, Katarina stood up, brushed off her breeches, and wiped away her tears. “Kat, what’s the matter?” he asked. “Come here,” he comforted, protectively putting his arm around her. Katarina began to weep again. “Come on, my Kat, tell me,” he said, pulling her away so he could look into her eyes.
“I’m scared Kell!” she sobbed.
“Scared of what?” he laughed.
“My dreams!” she said through her whimpering. “They tell stories- stories of my past- stories that I just found out were true!”
“What are you talking about? You’re crazy, Kat, you know that!” he laughed aloud.
“Kell, I’m serious! It’s true! I can see my past in my dreams!” Katarina tried to reassure him.
“What past Kat? You’ve only been alive what, eight, nine years?”
“It will be ten in two weeks!” she countered.
“Not enough time to see into your past. You don’t have much of one.” He looked at her frankly, then crossed his arms over his chest and continued proudly. “Now me, on the other hand, I have a lot of years in my past to dream about.”
“Kell,” she said, laughing slightly, “you’re only thirteen years old!”
“So, I’m older than you, aren’t I?” he laughed, wrestling her to the ground, playfully.
“Kell! You’re messing up my hair!” she shouted.
“Since when did you start behaving like a girl?” he said, letting her go and causing her to fall backwards into the hay.
“In case you haven’t noticed, I am a girl!”
“Nah, you’re still one of the boys. Well, to me anyway,” he smiled, brushing the hay off of himself.
“Kell!” a female voice called from outside the stables.
“Sounds like I should be getting back to work. Got to make sure I do my best as a squire so I can become an even better knight!” he said running towards the stable door. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot. The squires are sparring tonight if you want to go and watch. Maybe you could even join in!”
“I would love to!” she shouted back. “If only I could get my father to approve,” she whispered under her breath. “If only.”