Oya oya

“Swaying already? Land legs that rusty?” Björn asked still laughing, while he walked beside him. Askeladd huffed in response. His second-in-command already knew the answer to his question.

“How bad is the damage?” he asked, eyeing the cracked mast and dented hull. If he were honest with himself, he didn’t want to know the answer.

“Not a shipwright,” Björn replied and scratched his head under the helmet pondering, “but I’d guess at least several days?”

“Speak to the harbourmaster and the shipwrights,” Askeladd grumbled, continuing towards the village. At least we made it here. There are worse places to be stuck for a few days. The streets and alleys of the village were still busy around midday. People were trading and bargaining in the market while others were going home for their lunch. With raised brows, Askeladd observed the busy market at the centre of the village. There were more stalls and more varieties of goods since the last time he was here. The settlement was obviously prospering. Not that this surprised him. The location of the village was ideal. Close to the sea, with a harbour to access the North Sea, surrounded by large forests and mountains, which made it easier to defend. As far as he knew, the soil in this area was fertile and there were many farms nearby to provide for the village and even for trade. Askeladd wrinkled his nose at a strange smell the wind blew to him. He didn’t recognise it and puzzled his head over it as he walked across the market. He whistled in surprise when he reached the source of the smell. There was a stall full of exotic spices, which was heavily guarded for obvious reasons.

In a few months, this village has grown and grown. I underestimated his abilities clearly; he thought as he strode up to the largest house of the settlement; a typical Danish longhouse. Almost in the middle of the long side was a giant double-leaf door, secured by two tall guards, who were almost as tall as the entrance and only acknowledged him with a short nod. Askeladd interpreted this as an invitation and entered the dimly lit main hall.

At first, his eyes needed to adjust to the gloomy main room of the building. A great hall with a large hearth in the middle; its embers were still glowing, and long oak tables were evenly distributed throughout the hall. Once, he remembered, all the villagers fit into this room, but probably not anymore. Subconsciously, he held his hand over the gleaming ashes and felt the radiating heat on his skin as he looked around. No one seemed to be here. He noticed new shields with crests that were nailed onto the walls. Askeladd wondered whether these were the crests of allies or slain enemies when he noticed a shadow on the left side of the room.

On this side of the hall two richly ornamented chairs stood on a wooden pedestal and behind them hung a thick black curtain which separated the main hall from the corridor which led to the private chambers of the chieftain. The curtain moved and the figure of a woman appeared.

“Hello Askeladd,” she greeted him calmly as she walked towards him.

“Greetings to the Lady of this great hall!” Askeladd bowed, flashing a smile that usually charmed women, but she looked at him blankly.

“I’ve heard your ship needs repair?” she asked and tilted her head slightly as she waited for his response. Askeladd raised his brows in surprise before he smiled at her once again.

“Well informed, I see,” he grinned, shrugging, “We ran into some competitors and then there was a gentle but stiff breeze…. nothing worth mentioning,” he winked.

“You encountered pirates on the open sea,” Skadi corrected, her piercing blue eyes unwavering, “and then your ship was torn apart in a storm.”

Askeladd ground his teeth before he laughed and smirked at her. Skadi was tall for a woman, but he was still a few centimetres taller than her, enough for him to look down at her with a smile.

“Don’t listen to rumours. Competitors and a gentle breeze,” he smirked mischievously, “But I have to admit we still need a shipwright, and we probably have to stay for a few days.” He tried to give her his most irresistible smile but again, his charm met her indifference.

“Where’s your wonderful husband?” he inquired, turning around as if he could find him in the hall.

“Away on business travels,” she replied, walking past him, mocking his tone with a blank face. Ulf was a Viking warrior who regularly raided the coast of England like Askeladd did. At least she has some sense of humour, he thought as he smiled at her remark.

Skadi went to the right side of the hall and called a name through an open door. Only now he noticed her cunningly pinned-up blonde hair, which, together with her velvet green dress, gave her a noble appearance. His gaze lingered a second too long on her behind when she turned back at him.

“I’m afraid, you have to put up with me, Askeladd,” she stated with a firm voice and went to stay next to him. They both looked up at the wall full of shields. One shield, with a large crack in the middle and a strangely familiar crest, drew his interest.

“That’s the emblem of one of the English lords we defeated,” Skadi said softly. In the corners of his eyes, he saw her smiling, but he didn’t dare to look at her.

“It was the last battle we thought together, I think,” Askeladd added whispering, and both seemed to be lost in thought. He tensed when their shoulders touched slightly but didn’t pull away.

“It feels like a lifetime away…” Skadi whispered and their eyes met. “Now my life is…different.” There was a touch of sadness in her gaze and it made Askeladd gulp. As he looked down at her, he wanted to be as close and as far away from her as possible. His entire body felt as if it were being torn apart by this inner turmoil.

Suddenly, a door creaked as a servant entered the hall, and both jumped away from each other. Skadi turned, her whole demeanour had changed within seconds, as she looked at him stone-faced.

 “Ingrid will organise the accommodation for your men. Everything related to the repair of your ship, you have to settle with our harbour master, everything else with me directly. As a welcome, we invite you and your men to a feast tonight. There we can talk about the costs of your stay. Is this alright with you?” she explained with a cold smile that left no room for debate.

Askeladd gave an equivalent fake smile and nodded, “Thank you. I’ll tell my men. I see you tonight.” He left the hall, rubbing his eyes tiredly. The coming days would be interesting.

The sun had set and torches lit up the narrow streets and alleys of the village when Askeladd decided to join the feast. Ingrid, the servant from earlier, had already assigned all his men to different accommodations. To be honest, Askeladd was surprised at how well-organised and determined the young woman was. She ignored suggestive comments from his men or replied with snarky remarks, which made even the hardest bastard blush in embarrassment.  It was fun to watch but at the same time, it reminded him of Ingrid’s mistress, who probably had taught her not to let herself be pushed around, especially not by men.

“Your men are accommodated, my Lord,” Ingrid said and bowed her head slightly. It took Askeladd a moment before he realised she was talking to him.

“Don’t call me Lord. I am no Lord,” he replied with a charming grin, although he noticed her downcast gaze.

“My mistress told me to treat you with the utmost respect because you are a friend of the master,” Ingrid explained with her head tilted down and only raised her hand to point to the great hall, “Therefore you will stay with the master’s family.”

Askeladd followed her gesture and raised his brows, something he had done a lot since he landed here.

“Did your mistress forbid you from looking at me?” he said jokingly and studied the reaction of the young servant. For a second, Ingrid looked up at him confused and blushed deeply when she noticed his winning smile.

“N..n…no. My mistress said nothing like that,” she stuttered and looked in another direction.

“But she warned you about me, didn’t she?” the experienced warrior sarcastically concluded as he stepped closer, causing Ingrid to shake her head vigorously and run away. With loud laughter, he watched her run to the great hall before he noticed a tall figure walking towards him. With a content smile, he put his hands in the pockets of his coat and went to meet his friend halfway.

“Already pissing off our hosts?”, his second-in-command asked, walking beside him.

“I do my very best not to,” Askeladd smirked and thought back on Ingrid’s reaction. It wasn’t his fault, she was so easy to tease.

“Is that the reason why you haven’t shown up?” Björn grumbled, “And I have to go looking for you like a stray kitten?”

Askeladd laughed and slapped his friend's shoulder, “I was already on my way. Plus, I can hardly count as a kitten? More like a stray dog…. or fox!”

“Why should I look for a fox?” his friend shook his head and swept his long hair away from his face, which frequently obscured his vision when he didn't have his helmet on.

“I’m just saying, I’m more like a fox than a kitten. And you shouldn’t come and get me to shitty feasts like this,” Askeladd sighed and stopped.

Björn halted as well and began to enumerate, “But it isn’t shitty at all. The food is good, lots of meat, and wine and beer as much as we want. Even the music is great,” then he added gravely, “and the women are fuckable.”

“Thank the Gods!” Askeladd replied sarcastically. “Unfortunately, I don’t think I can enjoy any of this. Unlike you bastards, I have to sit politely at the table of the chieftain and since Ulf is gone, I have to enjoy the company of his wife.” His words dripped with sarcasm while he glared at the great hall.

Björn creased his brow and noted, “Skadi is very fuckable, too.”

“That’s part of the problem,” the blonde chuckled and ran his hand through his beard. “She’s very nice to look at; she has always been…”

His thoughts drifted to the first time when he had seen her. On a battlefield at the coast of England. Askeladd had been slightly injured and exhausted from fights. The site had been chaotic, with corpses and wounded lying one above the other. Everybody had been spattered with blood and mud, he couldn’t distinguish between ally or enemy. This was when he had seen her for the first time, like a Valkyrie had come from the sky for them.

A sudden push from his friend snapped him out of his thoughts and caused him to stumble towards the great hall.

“It’s no use,” Björn proclaimed as they continued walking, “There are worse nights than sitting next to a beautiful woman with beer and food! Just don’t listen to what she says!” The broad-shouldered Norse burst into laughter, while Askeladd sighed again.

“I finally see why you’re so good with women, my friend.”

Standing in front of the double-leaf door, the captain took a deep breath while his second-in-command still laughed at his own joke. Björn’s right, it’s no use. Grit your teeth and get to it!

With a swift movement, he opened the door and entered the great hall. It was packed with people; the air was stale and heavy with the fragrance of alcohol and food. Over the heath, they cooked a whole pig on a split and the smell of roasted meat made his mouth water. When had he last eaten anyway? Askeladd looked around to see familiar faces, but the room was busting with people, eating, talking and dancing, he couldn’t make anyone out. In the right corner of the room, a music group played lute, bone flute and drums, while some people sang and danced to the tunes. A slight smile crept into his face as he observed the merry feast. It was months ago since they had had such a welcome. Apparently, his men needed a change of scene and if he was honest with himself, he needed that, too.

Björn thrust an ale pot into Askeladd’s hand, while the blonde let his eye wander through the room. His men had mingled with the villagers and sat at several tables throughout the hall. Taking a first sip from his beer; it tasted smooth yet somewhat harsh; his eyes found Skadi. She sat in the middle of a long table that stood under the wooden pedestal with the two ornamented chairs. It seemed that the community's most important and richest men were also seated there. She still wore her velvet green dress, however this time, he noticed how it emphasised her female figure. Her hair was now loose, held by a metal hair band, that gave her an almost regal look.

She is really nice to look at, he thought when Skadi suddenly caught sight of him and riveted her gaze on him. Askeladd almost choked on his beer when he noticed her piercing ice-blue gaze. Subtly, the lady of the hall nodded towards the free chair next to her and Askeladd said goodbye to his friend to move himself through the crowd to take the free seat at the table.

“Good evening, everyone!” Askeladd exclaimed with his most winning smile and toasted friendly towards the others at the table. All clinked their glasses except for Skadi, who looked ahead indifferently.

“You are late, Askeladd,” she commented sharply and turned to look at him blankly, “What kept you? Competitors or a gentle breeze?”This night will be interesting, indeed.

The blonde Viking frowned, leaning against an old barrel. He despised people who clung to things long gone—not out of belief, but because they feared facing the truth. He’d seen it before. He’d seen what happened when people didn’t take the world for what it was. Whenever the shipmaster gave him a side glance, it was clear that this disdain was mutual. The old man didn’t even give him the courtesy to hide his contempt, grimacing every time he looked at the captain. He even refused to talk to Askeladd; however, he seemed to enjoy talking to Skadi. The master explained to her in detail what part of the ship needed repair, why, and how he intended to do so. His hands gestured wildly as he explained, his wooden leg tapping out an uneven rhythm. Clack, clack, click. It was kind of mesmerising.

A warm giggle pulled Askeladd back to reality. To his surprise, Skadi was laughing at one of the old man’s jokes, placing her hand on her mouth as if she were a delicate little girl. She giggled, nodding along as the old man explained even the obvious. Skadi, who had outwitted him just yesterday, suddenly let herself be talked down to. Why? Askeladd frowned. That wasn’t compliance. That was control.

“Thank you, Master Ebbe. Captain Askeladd is surely glad you can repair his vessel.” Skadi chimed and bowed her head slightly after she gave Askeladd a stern side glance.

“Surely” was his only answer when he noticed the expectant grimace of the old man. Without another word, but with a bright smile, Skadi turned and walked back to the village. In order to catch up with her, Askeladd needed to jog a few steps.

“Since when do you call me ‘Captain Askeladd’?” He muttered, catching up.

"You do command a ship, don’t you?" Skadi’s unreadable gaze met his.

“Tell that to Ebbe. Maybe he’ll stop looking at me like I drowned his dog.”

"If you want your ship fixed, best not to argue," she said simply. "Ebbe has his own way of seeing things."

Askeladd looked at her with raised brows.

“He hates strangers.”

“Oh, of course!” Askeladd said sarcastically, “Very convenient for the harbour master of a growing trading village.” He rolled his eyes but still noticed how the corner of her mouth lifted slightly.

“He is the best in his craft in 100 miles. I don’t care how whimsical he is. You just need to know how to handle him.”

“And you do,” Askeladd pointed out. This explained her earlier behaviour. She just played along to make use of the skills of that old fool. As they walked along the harbour, he noted the slight change of her expression, depending on the people crossing their way. To most people, common villagers and fisher men, she showed a warm and welcoming smile, while others, saw a more distant but graceful expression.

He trailed behind, watching the way people lit up when they saw her. Not forced smiles or fearful bows—actual respect. Rare thing. He’d seen men grovel to lords they hated, but this? This was different. Strange. He wasn’t sure if it was impressive or just unsettling. The way back to the ship took longer than necessary because every few steps someone stopped them to talk. Sometimes for a request, rarely for a complaint, mostly to chat idly or to pay one’s respect. Skadi didn’t seem bothered or annoyed by this, while Askeladd used every stop to take food from the nearby stands. One of the few positive effects of walking with the beloved Lady was that nobody cared for him or wanted to argue with Skadi’s entourage. When they finally reached his ship, he was on his third apple and threw another into the hands of one of his men, who looked quite confused.

Skadi said her goodbyes and offered her “genuine” assistance, if Askeladd needed anything, but he only huffed and stared at his mastless ship. His mind was racing, and he considered every option he had now. His men knew better than to distract him, carefully walking and working around him. Eventually, a big hand landed on his shoulder, forcefully pulling him out of his thoughts.

“You know even you can’t repair a ship with thoughts alone?”

“If I could do that, I’d be as far away from here as possible,” Askeladd answered unamused, and his broad friend laughed heartily, shaking him before Björn gave him a clap on his back.

“Never seen you this rattled over a woman.”

Askeladd scowled. “I’m not rattled.”

Björn chuckled. “Yeah? Then why’s she got you by the balls?”

“She doesn’t.”

“Sure. Keep telling yourself that.” Björn smirked.

Finally, Askeladd turned his gaze away from the broken ship, staring menacingly at the giant Viking.

“Do you find this situation amusing, Björn?” He hissed between his teeth, making sure the other men didn’t notice his argument with his first in command. His friend simply grinned at him.

“This is the first time I’ve seen someone match you. And it’s a woman?” He laughed. “I fucking love it.”

Askeladd sighed and pinched his nose. Before he could respond, Björn slapped his back again, this time even harder, making him stumble forward.

“I just know you’ll come up with some unlikely plan, probably gaining us some gold with it.” Björn chuckled, adding with a more serious tone, “You just do what you always do, boss.”

______________________________________________________________

Just do what you always do. What was it that he always did?

The crisp autumn wind blew loose leaves from the nearby trees and incited the fire in front of him. Askeladd sat on a meadow, still in sight of the harbour and his ship. The village had not consumed this untouched spot of land, but he was sure that on his next visit, small houses would likely stand right here where he sat now. However, to come back, he first had to leave this annoyingly peaceful and thriving place.

Even though Ingrid had managed to accommodate his men in several different houses, the crew preferred to spend most of their time together on this meadow close to the ship and their belongings. They had lit three fires - one big and two smaller ones - to fight off the growing chill of night. Most of his men gathered around the bigger fire, chatting, drinking and laughing, while a few tended to an unidentifiable stew over the smaller flames. Meanwhile, Askeladd sat slightly away from the turmoil at the third fire. Alone and still deep in his thoughts.

He tapped his fingers against his knee, then stopped. Shifted his weight, then stopped. He’d run out of distractions. No rampage, no escape, no silver tongue to talk his way out of this one. Just the crackling fire, the cold beer, and a problem that refused to be solved with his usual methods.

Staring deeply into the flame, Askeladd thought through every possible choice he had when a dark shadow sat down next to him. The shadow held a jug of beer right in front of his face, and he took it mindlessly.

“Still thinking?” the shadow asked calmly, and Askeladd simply nodded while he took a deep gulp. Both stayed silent for a while.

“Well… I was thinking about our problem, as well,” the other began thoughtfully.

“So? Came to a conclusion?”

Askeladd only gained a deep grumble for an answer, and he felt the gaze of his friend on him, even though the fire only illuminated his face partly.

“What is it, Björn?” he finally asked with a sigh.

“What’s the deal with her?”

Askeladd’s grip tightened around his mug. “Nothing worth mentioning.”

“Really?” Björn asked challengingly, “Because it seems to be worth some gold. She hates you."

Askeladd only shrugged.

“Our problem seems to be worse because of that.”

The blonde huffed, still staring into the fire.

“Women normally like your slimy behaviour. Why doesn’t she like you?”

Now, Askeladd looked at Björn with raised brows but still shrugged.

“Ask me something easier.”

“How did you meet?”

There was a long silence between them. Askeladd didn’t answer, and neither did Björn press any further. It could have been a silent night if it hadn’t been for the chatting and shouting of his men.

"You ever try to stab a wasp’s nest, Björn?"

"No?"

“Then don’t.” In the corners of his eyes, he saw Björn turning his head towards him. Even in the dark, he knew the berserk showed a frown. Askeladd sighed and rubbed his eyes, keeping them closed as if that helped with his memories.

“Have you heard of the Battle of Maldon?” he asked without waiting for an answer. It was a rhetorical question. Of course he had heard about this famous battle. The Saxons had been utterly defeated and forced to pay tribute to the Vikings.

“We’ve met right then and there.”

“At Maldon?” Björn asked surprised, “Was she with her husband?”

“They weren’t married back then.”

“Then…did her father take her with him?” He asked confusedly, “I’ve heard of one highborn idiot who took his family with him everywhere…. feared they might be killed when he was gone. Well…they were killed after he was torn apart in a battle.”

Askeladd chuckled but shook his head, taking a sip of his beer.

“Why was she there then?” Björn asked impatiently.

“Why are people at a battlefield, Björn? To fight.”

“You are shitting me, are you not?” Björn’s mug hit the ground with a dull thud. He turned fully, squinting as if Askeladd had spoken in some foreign tongue. Askeladd only grinned.

“I’m not. Believe me, I wish I was,” he said.

“She fought in a battle? Not just any battle, but the Battle of Maldon? And she fucking survived?”

This time Askeladd turned to his friend with his knowing half smirk, the one that always annoyed Björn to no end.

“It comes even better, Björn,” he said conspiratorially, “it was neither her first nor her last battle. And she did not just survive.” Askeladd paused as he found the excitement and confusion of his friend amusing. “She even killed more men than I did.”

Björn let out a whistle while Askeladd shook his head again. That was only four years ago, but it already felt like a lifetime had passed. He cringed internally thinking about his younger, ignorant self.

His friend stared at him for a long time. His lips were slightly parted as if trying to form a word, he hadn’t quite grasped yet.

“She’s a shield maiden…” Björn whispered in awe, looking at Askeladd as if this realisation changed everything.

“Well, she was back then,” Askeladd said with a shrug. “Come to think of it…she never used a shield.”

Björn ignored his little joke, sitting up straight with an excitement that Askeladd didn’t share in the least.

“So, she’s a warrior!” The berserk exclaimed with a voice so loud, some men at the other fires turned their heads.

“Was,” Askeladd said.

“I’ve never met a shield maiden! I thought only existed in stories told of old hags.” Björn punched Askeladd’s shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me from the beginning?”

The blonde rolled his eyes at the clearly unfounded excitement. He needed something stronger than beer if he really had to talk about that.

“There’s not a lot to talk about. We thought at the same battle, we survived, she married a…” He looked for a suitable word to describe Ulf until he settled on the easiest yet wrong term. ” …friend of mine. So, she’s not a shield maiden any longer, and we’re sitting here at the fire.” Waiting while she plays us like fools.

The tall Viking huffed and picked up his beer.

“Don’t think someone just stops to be a shield maiden.” It was more of a grunting than a solid argument. Like a child who didn’t like the ending of a bedtime story and tried to make up his own.

Again, a silence fell between them, and Björn seemed to be deep in thought. Askeladd simply drank his beer and tried not to think any further about that time long ago. He ran a hand down his face, exhaling slowly. He wouldn’t think about it. He wouldn’t— Laughter and shouting erupted by the fires, the sharp crackle of burning wood snapping him back. He could count on his men causing mayhem any given time. Sometimes these idiots were useful; he had to admit that.

“Why is she so angry at you?” Björn cut through their silence, bringing Askeladd’s attention back to their conversation.

“Hmm. I don’t think she is,” Askeladd said and was granted a disbelieving glance from Björn.

“She fucking despises you.”

“You don’t need to be angry to despise people. I despise a lot of people who never wronged me.”

Even though Askeladd was honest about that, his friend wasn’t convinced.

“Did you kill someone from her family?”

Askeladd shook his head, “Already dead back then.”

“Did you fuck her sister?”

He shook his head. “She had only one brother and again: already dead.”

Björn’s grin widened. “Fucked him, too?” he slapped Askeladd’s back, laughing. Björn, after recovering from his joke, continued thinking.

“Killed someone she wanted to kill?”

Askeladd looked at him, frowning. Now Björn was thinking about reasons why he would despise someone.

“Don’t think so. She would’ve killed me back then.”

Björn’s eyes widened at this response, and he smiled broadly, “She’s really a handful.”

“Obviously,” Askeladd mumbled, and before Björn had the chance to dig deeper, they heard screaming. Two men bickered with each other, which immediately led to someone being thrown into the fire. With an annoyed grunt, Björn stood up and went to the burning men, shouting orders and insults.

Askeladd laughed quietly. Even though he hated those Danish bastards, who followed him, at least they saved him this time. The fire popped, embers glowing and fading in the wind. He took another sip, but the beer had turned bitter. No use fighting it. The past had him now. That one day in August.

______________________________________________________________

Loud shouts and clashing of weapons made his own groans nearly inaudible. He had gutted a Saxon just before the man’s spear could run him through. His lungs burnt under the exertion of hour-long fighting. His muscles felt sore, and blood and sweat clung to his skin, wet on some parts, dried and cracked on others. He tried to breathe deeply, filling his lungs with much-needed air, but it seemed as if the hot summer sun had burnt it all away. Who decided to fight in the summer? On the hottest day of the year? Idiots, all of them.

Askeladd knelt on the ground, next to the man he had just killed. The chaos of the battlefield still raged around him, deafening his own loud gasping and his thoughts. He looked around while he tried to regain his strength, fully aware that he was an easy target for anyone who’d notice him. This was not his first fight, not his first battle. But it was by far the biggest battle he had ever taken part in. Saxons against Vikings, fighting at the Blackwater River. Should be called Redwater now, he thought, trying to stand up. Why did he think it was a good idea to fight here with all these bastards? Following the great number of ships and men seemed logical for him back then. Making himself known to others, raiding Saxon lands, and asserting his claim of his father’s inheritance. It made perfect sense to fight here and do all that. The only problem was that he had underestimated the toll of a real battle of armies. His chances of survival dwindled by the minute.

His legs obeyed at last. He pushed himself up, sword in one hand, shield in the other. Only then did he realize—he was at the front lines Too close. Thirty meters ahead, a Saxon leader shouted orders. And Askeladd was right in his sights. How the hell did I end up here?

Askeladd looked around for a way to carefully withdraw to safer areas of the battle. Whatever safe meant while being surrounded by death.

“Don’t yield!” A commanding voice shouted in Norse, “Shield wall! We’ll kill that bastard.”

Without a doubt, the Viking soldiers around Askeladd stood side by side, holding up their shields and therefore creating the ordered wall directed to the Saxon leader before them. With a loud groan, Askeladd let himself be pushed into place inside the shield wall. Even in his exhausted state of mind, he questioned the wisdom of this order. They didn’t hold the upper hand and were surrounded by enemy soldiers. Targeting one man and his entourage was risky in this situation, and what use was a shield wall when there were already enemies behind? But he was right in the middle of this disaster, and just sneaking away was no option. The Viking “honour” forbid it, and unfortunately, the commander of this moronic attack knew his face. Fucking idiots and their fucking honour.

With all his strength he pushed against his shield. Screams. Metal scraping. The wall surged forward, shields crashing against shields. When Askeladd failed to close the small opening between shields in time, a spear splintered through and sliced into his arm. He cursed and stepped back with gritted teeth. Someone else took his spot, before the Saxons could break through. The shield wall still stood.

He ignored the insults at him and took a stand in the second row, warm blood dripping from his throbbing arm. This wasn’t looking good. Not only his injury, but the whole situation. It was obvious that the Saxon commander was more strategic than the fool who yelled for them to advance. Askeladd looked around, noticing how the Saxons slowly cornered his group with long spears. They were blocked off from the rest of the troops, and the idiot of a chieftain, who still screamed to advance, didn’t even notice. Another thing he hated about Norse men. They always looked forward and rammed their heads against walls or spears. A panic slowly rose within Askeladd as he tried to find a way out, but even though his mind was racing, no solution came to his mind. He couldn’t die like this. That was not his plan at all.

“Shield up!” A distant voice called over the battlefield and Askeladd turned around. He must’ve imagined it. No Norse warrior seemed to care for the predicament of his group.

“Shield up!” Sharp, commanding – but young? He made out a single figure, running fast, weaving between fights, corpses and sword strokes. Heading straight for Askeladd. The warrior was now a few meters away from him but still ran at full speed.

“Shield up!” he heard again and this time, Askeladd understood. He knelt down, feet digging into the mud, holding his shield with both hands over his head. The shield blocked his vision, but he could make out boots running towards him, then jumping forcefully. Boots hit his shield, and for a second, the weight almost send him stumbling, but he tossed his shield upwards. With a loud battle cry, the other was gone – soaring over the wall and the spears. Askeladd turned around to watch and realised wide-eyed who he had tossed in the air. Was that really…?

Chaos broke out behind the lines of the Saxons as the Norse warrior attacked them from behind. They turned around to fight back but were too slow to even raise their weapons in defence. Askeladd watched in awe how they were cut down one by one, while his own group advanced with their shield wall, walking over the dead or injured. He shook his head to come back to his senses, and with a scream, he took a place within the wall. Keeping their eyes on the banner of the Saxon leader, they marched forward and killed anyone who dared to move. When they finally reached the position of their target, they lowered their shields and stood in surprise. A head rolled to their feet. Silence. The Saxons froze, their leader’s blood pooling at their boots. One by one, their weapons wavered. Some dropped them altogether and ran for their lives. Baffled, Askeladd looked up. A figure stood over a headless corpse, one boot resting on the remains. The same warrior he had tossed over the lines. Blonde hair tied back. Black armour, gleaming. Ice-blue eyes, and a smirk sharp enough to cut through flesh.

“A woman?!” Askeladd said absentmindedly; someone quietly corrected him.

Askeladd leaned back in his chair, smiling absentmindedly as the old merchant started quarrelling with someone else at the table. Out of the corner of his eye, he studied Skadi. There was no doubt this was her doing. With her experience with drunken warriors, she knew exactly what to expect. Nevertheless, he was impressed by her cunning procedure. I shouldn’t underestimate her, he thought with a grin.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Skadi asked softly and took a sip of wine.

Askeladd looked into his empty cup and shrugged, answering with a sly smile, “I can’t complain.” Without a word, she took a carafe from the table and filled his cup to the brim. Their eyes met only for a second before her gaze wandered through the room.

“That’s hardly a compliment.”

“I didn’t think you’d need my praise.” Askeladd took a large sip of wine, smiling when he noticed her reaction. The blonde looked at him with narrowed eyes, her lips pressed into a thin line.

She took a breath before replying, “I didn’t ask for your praise.”

“As I said,” he insisted, pointing his cup to the crowd, “you don’t need my praise. The success of this night speaks for itself, doesn’t it?” Skadi rolled her eyes and sighed, much to his amusement. He loved teasing her; he loved to provoke a reaction. To some extent, he enjoyed winding up people, though he wasn’t sure why he found such pleasure in her frustration. Perhaps it reminded him of simpler times, filled with camaraderie and laughter. He remembered the battle, the shared glances, unspoken words and a mutual understanding. Yet tonight, there was a tension in her, a stiffness in her shoulders that he couldn't place. Her cold indifference fazed him. Like a battlement, he needed to overcome.

“But I must admit. You have my men under your control. That’s impressive.” He smiled at her and raised his glass, only for her to ignore his gesture.

“Do you usually just let them off the leash and watch?” she challenged him while her tone was still flat. Askeladd laughed and savoured his wine, his eyes flickering with mischief.

"A leash would be handy sometimes," he mused, his tone half-joking, half-serious. “They need their free run now and then.” He chuckled while Skadi refilled his cup. ”But you were always better at controlling situations. You always had your way with warriors,” he murmured, looking into her blue eyes and waiting for her reaction. After all these years, her expression remained a mystery to him. Had he ever been able to read her?

Briefly, Skadi’s fingers tightened slightly around her cup before swirling the wine in her glass. She seemed to ponder her words as she nipped deliberately. Droplets of red wine dampened on her mouth and underlined the fullness of her lips. Askeladd stared greedily at her wet lips when she answered, “I only ever did what was expected of me.” Noticing his stare, she licked the remaining wine from her lips with a smug smile. Feeling caught, Askeladd blinked to focus on their conversation again. It seemed he was not the only one who liked to challenge the other.

“And now you are expected to play host for a bunch of savages?”

“Looks like it.” She shrugged. “Times change and people, too.” A hint of sadness lingered in her voice that he couldn’t shake off.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Times might change, but people don’t.” He emptied his cup and looked at her intently. “You certainly didn’t.”

For a brief moment, her eyes widened, and her carefully constructed mask slipped, revealing a flicker of the woman he once knew. Noticing her struggle to reply, clenching her jaw, Askeladd quickly averted his gaze, puzzled by the strength of her reaction. Should he change the topic? He couldn't grasp why his comment—a mere observation meant to flatter—had struck such a deep chord.

“You don’t know me,” she finally said, slowly pouring him another cup of wine.

“Well, I – “, he began, only to be cut off by her intimidating look. She put the carafe down with deliberate calm and gave him a smile that made his veins run cold.

“You don’t know about my life now, Askeladd. Times change, and so do people. Everyone adapts to the tasks at hand, and my tasks are not on the battlefields anymore.”

“And how well you accomplished that!” he proclaimed, shifting awkwardly on his chair. Taking a deep gulp of wine, Askeladd thought about her words. True, he knew very little about her current life. Ever since she married Ulf, Askeladd has made himself scarce. Nevertheless, Ulf was a mighty ally, therefore he worked with him regularly. It was by pure chance that he never had the opportunity to visit their village. Wasn’t it? Certainly, he didn’t avoid Skadi on purpose. Why should he see the wife of his friend in the first place? He took another gulp from his cup. How come it’s empty again?! 

Askeladd turned towards Skadi to ask for the wine carafe and huffed. She was deep in a conversation with an older man, and although she smiled at him cordially, her eyes seemed lifeless. Her counterpart didn’t seem to notice as he stared at her breasts. Ugly bastard, Askeladd thought and tried to reach for the wine himself.

Suddenly, all hell broke loose. People screamed as a towering shadow loomed over them before it crashed onto their table. Dishes, food and wine were tossed in the air and the table nearly cracked under the weight of the figure. Whilst the others were splashed with wine and beer, Askeladd and Skadi had jumped to their feet. With raised brows, Askeladd recognised Torgrim, one of his men, lying on the table. Torgrim looked up to Skadi wide-eyed as she held a dagger to his throat.

Askeladd glanced back and forth between them before he asked with a chuckle, “Torgrim, old chap. What exactly are you doing?” Since Skadi didn’t withdraw her dagger, her gaze alone was almost lethal, Torgrim dared not to move and gulped.

“Some….one…. threw me.”

Askeladd burst out laughing and ignored the piercing look Skadi threw at him.

“You should definitely practice your landing, it needs refinement,” he cackled, and the other guest joined in. Skadi sighed in annoyance and dispersed the dagger as fast as she had fetched it. Immediately afterwards, Torgrim seized his chance and crawled off the table to disappear into the cheering crowd.

“A hidden dagger?” Askeladd asked amusedly, ignoring Skadi’s resentment.

“What about it?” she sneered, “Do you honestly think I feast a bunch of beasts without a weapon to protect me and my possessions?” She looked at Askeladd in disbelief and pointed to his arms. “What about that?”

Askeladd looked down and saw the wine carafe, he had fetched from the table before Torgrim could dash it into pieces. He still held it protectively in his arms like a child.

“Oh,” He grinned. “I also try to protect your possessions.”

______________________________________________________________

An intense throbbing in his temples woke him abruptly. He tried to open his eyes, but it felt like the entire world was spinning. The morning light that came through the small window to his left blinded him even in this dim room. Askeladd blinked and held his head as if it could fall from his neck, even though he was lying on a bed. Bed? Whose bed is this? He turned his head, and, to his relief, he was alone.

Wouldn’t be the first time to wake up next to a stranger, he thought, and with a groan, pushing himself up to sit at the bed’s edge. Squinting, he hoped the world would finally stop turning and his stomach would stop rebelling. The lingering smell of stale ale and sweat wasn’t helping at all. With a grunt, the Viking forced himself to stand up and move towards the door, one hand steadying himself against the wall. Attempting to move his head as little as possible, he examined the barely furnished room but didn't recognise anything. Where had he ended up? And how? Askeladd couldn’t remember a thing from last night.

Exiting the room, he stood in a narrow, slightly familiar corridor. The air was better, and he didn’t feel like he was inhaling beer directly into his lungs anymore. His footsteps echoed softly on the wooden floor as he wandered through the corridor before it opened into the great hall. The morning light streamed through high windows, casting long shadows across the wooden tables and benches. The hall was eerily quiet, save for the faint clinking of metal and the rustle of straw.

Askeladd looked for the source of the noise and found Ingrid with her back turned to him, swiftly moving between the tables, clearing away the leftovers from last night. Her brown hair was in a tight, long braid, reaching up to her behind. With her hands full of plates, she turned and looked at Askeladd in shock. He raised his brows, then looked down at himself hastily. Thank the gods, I’m dressed. Wouldn’t be the first time either….

“My Lord!” Ingrid said then corrected herself, “Askeladd. You are awake.”

“You seem surprised,” he answered, his voice still rough from the night.

Ingrid shook her head and smiled, pulling up a chair with a cracking sound that nearly killed him.

“The mistress said you wouldn’t get up before noon. I didn’t expect you this early. Please, sit down.” She smiled politely. Swallowing down a groan, Askeladd sat, trying to smile back at the young woman.

“Why would she think that?” he asked hoarsely.

Ingrid gave him a beaming smile, even though Askeladd noticed the amusement flickering across her face.

“Well, you enjoyed yourself very much yesterday.” She chuckled and cleared the table in front of him. No matter how hard he tried to remember, Askeladd couldn’t piece together the hazy memories.

“Between you and me,” he murmured with a rueful smile as he gave her a wink. “How did I end up in that room?”

Ingrid blushed and explained in a muffled voice, “That’s the room I had prepared for you. But you were in no state to find your bed yourself, so Skadi had you brought to your room. She said you’d needed the rest, and you would probably sleep until noon.”

“How awfully kind of her,” he replied between his teeth, though Ingrid missed the incisive tone. “I should thank her, then. And maybe apologise?”

“There's nothing to apologise for. In fact, you were incredibly entertaining.” Blushing, Ingrid gave him a coy smile before she left the hall to get him breakfast.

Askeladd sighed deeply and leaned back, putting one arm over his eyes. Even though a night and a morning like this were not particularly out of the ordinary for him, he wondered how he could have been so careless. When was the last time he drank himself unconscious? At least when he wasn’t at home. Or with other people. Since Ulf wasn’t present and his wife wasn’t as easy to sway, he had intended to be wary. The blonde rubbed his eyes with a loud groan. Skadi’s sharp gaze with her piercing blue eyes appeared in his mind. For a moment, he recalled her smug smile and her lips, but quickly dismissed the memory. She is a tough nut to crack, he thought, even though he wasn’t sure why he needed to crack her in the first place.

Had it always been this tense with her? Well, times were easier back then, weren’t they? He hadn’t been the captain of his band, but a mere warrior trying to prove himself. Back then, he was impressed and captivated by Skadi, her appearance, her intellect, and her whole aura. It was the first time he had ever seen a shieldmaiden, much less a woman who was both strong and prepared to battle. Askeladd remembered how she had walked on the battlefield with great naturalness, lethal for every Saxon crossing her way. She handled the other Vikings with playfulness or, when called upon, cruelty. She was born as a ruler and commander, as a princess. The woman he spoke with yesterday didn't seem the same. It was evident that she could see right through and control people. However, her aura and presence had diminished. Unwillingly, Askeladd was haunted by her cold gaze.

The clinking of plates called his attention to Ingrid, who walked to him with a broad smile. In her hands, she held a mug and a bowl. From the smell, Askeladd guessed it was porridge, now noticing his hunger. When she put the bowl and the mug, filled with cold water, on the table, he smiled gratefully at her.

“You're my saviour,” he proclaimed overenthusiastically. “I don't deserve your kindness.” Ingrid blushed and pressed her lips together shyly. Askeladd observed his bashful behaviour, he hit on an idea.

“Please, sit down.” He pointed to the seat in front of him. “I don't like eating alone, especially if I could have such delightful company.” He gave her his most dazzling smile, chuckling inside, when she immediately sat down, crimson-faced. I still have it in me. He laughed internally. The previous night had made him doubt his ability to win others over. Even though he didn't want to admit it, the fact that his smiles, compliments, and humour deflected off Skadi hit him harder than expected.

“I hope I don't keep you from anything important?” he asked, stirring in his porridge. “Your mistress seems to put you in charge of many demanding tasks.” Pleased, he watched Ingrid sit up straight, confidently locking eyes with Askeladd.

“I've learned a lot from her! I'm very happy to work for her, and she always gives me chances to prove myself.” Ingrid answered with a cheerful singsong.

Askeladd began to eat and asked between spoons, “How long have you been working for the chief’s family?” His voice was nonchalant, trying to seem casual despite paying attention to every move and sound she made.

“Since the master married Skadi! He wanted to gift her a slave, but she refused. She said she wanted servants she could trust and who already lived in the village and knew everything around.” Ingrid beamed as she spoke, swinging cheerfully on her chair backwards and forwards. Askeladd smiled at her, ignoring her blatant self-praise. Easy prey.

“I haven’t left the mistress’ side since! At first, I was just a maid, but she put her trust in me, and now I keep the house for the master and her.” Ingrid’s eyes twinkled, and she gestured widely. “It’s a lot of work, you know? The village grows and grows. Obviously, the household of the chieftain as well. We need many servants, and they need to be managed. The mistress has a lot of important duties. She cannot do it alone. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Askeladd agreed, nodding his head. “I’ve already noticed how much you support Skadi. You’re clearly an indispensable pillar.”

The young woman nodded fiercely, then explained, “The mistress has so many duties and responsibilities! Day in, day out, she has to make decisions for the whole village. All by herself. I’m happy to help where I can.”

Askeladd raised his brows. Putting on an air of innocence, he said, “I’m glad she has someone as reliable as you by her side. Is Ulf gone for so long at a time?”

Still giggling because of his praise, Ingrid nodded. “Yes, gone for months at a time. When they were newlyweds, he stayed here most of the time. He had been gone for weeks or two months. But now he’s on a raid for over four months already!” She grimaced and shook her head.

Leaning back into his chair, Askeladd thought about what he just heard.

“It must be hard for your mistress to- “, he began, but Ingrid interrupted him impatiently.

“Of course it is hard! My mistress came to our village just for our master, and he leaves her alone most of the time. And when the master’s gone, it doesn’t help much with their other problem.”

“Their other problem?” he asked and leaned closer. Ingrid's brown eyes widened, but she stayed silent, fidgeting with her fingers. Carefully, Askeladd leaned over the table and put his hand on hers.

With a reassuring smile, he whispered, “Don’t worry. You don’t have to tell me. You’re a loyal servant to your master.” The young woman relaxed visibly, but he gave it a shot as she didn’t pull back.

“It’s just. I’m a longtime friend of them both, and I’m concerned for their wellbeing.” He leaned in closer, giving her hand a soft squeeze.

“That’s just between the two of us,” he spoke soothingly. “I just want to help. I felt something was odd; I’ve known Skadi since we were young.”

“Really?” she answered, hopefully. Well, at least we were younger than we are now. Ingrid thought about it, pressing her lips together before she smiled at him. The table cracked slightly when she leaned over to get even closer to Askeladd. To an innocent bystander, it must have looked like she wanted to kiss him.

“The mistress is wonderful and gorgeous,” she murmured. “I don’t think it is her fault. But people begin to talk.” Askeladd hid his curiosity behind an empathetic expression. He knew that pushing Ingrid wouldn’t help, even though he just wanted her to tell him now.

“Well, it’s just,” Ingrid paused again, pondering her word, “It’s what’s expected of her. Of both of them! For the future of the village, everybody would be at ease if they... well… if the master had- “

“An heir,” Askeladd concluded blankly. Of course. They had been married for years, but he never heard about a child. Ulf was not just the leader of a mercenary band like Askeladd, but the chieftain of a prosperous village. He needed an heir.

“What are you plotting with my maid?” A clear voice interrupted his thoughts, and Ingrid jumped from her seat suddenly. When Askeladd turned, he saw Skadi entering the great hall with Björn walking behind her. Although Björn was taller by a head and overall broader than her, he seemed like a small boy trotting behind her. Her eyes flickered from Askeladd to Ingrid, then back to Askeladd, scrutinising him closely. He held her gaze with a set smile. It took more to intimidate someone as hard-bitten as him.

“A wonderful morning to you, too,” he said in his most charming voice, noticing happily how one of her eyelids twitched in irritation.

“Good morning, Askeladd,” she answered in an equally charming but biting tone. “I hope you had a pleasant night.” She leaned with one hand against the table and accidentally pushed a metal plate to the ground. The clanking echoed through the hall and into Askeladd’s skull. He held his temples, hoping the throbbing pain would ease.

“Oh! Clumsy me! Ingrid, please clean that up,” she ordered happily before she turned to Askeladd. “Are you not feeling well?” She grinned down at him. Bitch.

“I feel splendid,” he sighed, looking up at her, “all thanks to your hospitality. I will be forever grateful.” His voice was laced with sarcasm, but Skadi only showed him a lopsided grin.

“As if I could send the friend and ally of my husband away.” Again, she showed him a smile; however, Askeladd noticed her jar clenching slightly and the way she observed him from top to bottom. He tried to ignore her gaze while he ate the last bit of his porridge. Björn sat down on the bench straddle-legged, facing Askeladd with narrowed eyes. As he watched their taunting, his friend crossed his arms.

“What about our ship?” Askeladd murmured to him.

“It takes longer than we thought.”

“Longer than a week?!” the blonde hissed. Björn only nodded with a grumble.

That was no good news. Coming here at all was not his plan, let alone being stranded here for days. Or more than a week. This meant additional expenses as well as the cancellation of the raid he had planned next. He gritted his teeth while thinking about his next steps.

“What did you expect with a cracked mast?” Skadi asked amusedly. She had sat down in front of Askeladd while he was so deep in thoughts he hadn’t even noticed. Leaning her elbow on the table, she rested her head on it and smirked at him. If the whole situation hadn't been so frustrating, he may have considered her attractive. But it was frustrating, and Skadi was one of the reasons for that.

“I don’t expect anything,” Askeladd snarled and turned to his friend. “I’ll speak to the harbour master. Then we’ll see what comes next.”

“I don’t think a broken mast is a matter of negotiation or manipulation,” Skadi chimed in, still smiling broadly.

“You have quite a malicious impression of me, don’t you?”

With a smug grin, she sat straight and caught his gaze.

“I do. I know you.”

Björn looked between them with raised brows. Askeladd felt the confused gaze of his friend but still glared at the woman in front of him. Later, he probably had some questions to answer. A cough gained his reaction, and he watched Björn stand up.

“I get going. Someone should keep half an eye on...” His gaze wandered between the two. “Our boys.” Without waiting for an answer, he went outside and left the two of them alone.

“Huh, you chased him away,” Askeladd said matter-of-factly, making her laugh. This was probably the first genuine laugh he had heard from her since he arrived. It was hearty and honest laughter; he felt captivating. But this only lasted for a moment before she composed herself and looked at him challengingly.

“I’d guess he is embarrassed by the drunken state of his captain,” she teased.

“Hmm…no.” Pretending to ponder, Askeladd stroked his beard. “He would have left my crew years ago.” They smiled at each other, and as the morning light shone into her face, he noticed the light blue colour of her eyes. It reminded him of the frozen sea in the north, equally fascinating as terrifying.

“Do you want me to bring you to the harbourmaster?” she asked, once again showing her restrained demeanour.

“Can’t be helped, can it?” Askeladd huffed and supported himself against the table to stand up. They left the great hall and walked the narrow street towards the harbour wordlessly. The bright sun stung into his eyes, and the buzzing of the village brought back his headache. However, it was a pleasant morning, and the salty breeze from the sea helped his stomach recover from last night. As they walked past the houses and market stalls, he tried to push the thought of the upcoming expenses and problems away. Yet, his avoidance became more pointless with every step closer to the harbour. He cleared his throat to gain Skadi’s attention.

“We still need to talk about the cost of our accommodation.”

Without looking back at him, she simply shrugged, “There’s no need for that.”

Askeladd raised his brows in surprise and walked faster to catch up with her.

“How come? You wouldn’t let me and my men stay for free.”

“You already paid,” she stated bluntly. Askeladd stopped in his tracks and looked at her with wide eyes, waiting for an explanation.

“I didn’t pay anything,” he said bewilderedly. “We didn’t even talk about a price yesterday!”

Now, Skadi stopped as well and turned around to look at him, feigning innocence.

“Oh, we did. I was willing to bargain, but you felt ‘generous’ as you put it yesterday.”

Askeladd looked at her, completely baffled, so she continued with a poorly suppressed smile.

“You may not remember, but we talked about everything yesterday. The price as well.”

“How much?” was everything Askeladd could press through his grinding teeth.

“Five gold coins per day. Everything included,” Skadi explained with a smug smile. For a second, Askeladd thought he had to throw up again. His face reddened, and he glared at her. That amount was sheer robbery. Including the estimated cost of ship repair, if they stayed for two weeks, it could ruin him. At least he had to spend his savings on the winter accommodation. Or they had to go on raids through the winter. Always a bad idea.

“Are you serious?”

“Of course. You even gave me the money for five days. With witnesses.” She tricked him. Somehow, she had tricked him, and he didn’t even remember a thing. His mind was racing as he tried to comprehend what she said. Why should he give her so much money without at least trying to negotiate a better deal? He must have been out of his mind. As he tried to make sense of the situation, he suddenly narrowed his eyes and scrutinised her.

“What have you…the wine! What have you put in the wine?” he snapped, pointing at her accusingly. However, Skadi laughed loudly and turned away to resume his way to the harbour. This time, her laughter didn’t please him.

“I didn’t put anything in the wine,” she laughed and looked over her shoulder cockily. “I just put a lot of wine into you.” The blonde Viking captain looked at her with an open mouth, gasping like a fish on land. Blurred glimpses of memories flashed through his mind. In all of them, the moment he had emptied his cup, Skadi poured him another. She got me drunk, and I didn’t even notice.

He froze, looking at her wide-eyed. When had he ever been so naive? Askeladd couldn't even remember. People around them began to notice their dispute and watched them noisily, but Skadi strolled to the harbour as if nothing had happened. When he still didn’t follow her, she finally turned back, grinning from ear to ear.

“What is it, Askeladd? Can’t you hold your liquor?” She teased him before she lowered her voice to add, “You should be careful. People could take advantage of you.”