A Short Tale From Norse America: Young Ravens & Hidden Blades (The United States of Vinland)

T
he
two boys ran across the grass-covered hills under the midday sun. They dodged
shrubs and jumped lichen-spotted rocks that punctuated the thin soil. Neck and
neck, they raced down into gullies hosting sprays of summer wildflowers and
shallow streams, and startled birds and hares that fed and sheltered as best
they could in the windswept landscape.

The
boys, despite pumping their ten-year-old legs to reach their destination, found
the breath to tease each other that the ghost of the Godsland Wolf was chasing
them down.

“She’s
at your heels!” cried Ulfarr, son of Eskil, the founder of Markland, the new
Norse settlements in the west.

Brandr,
son of Ballr, laughed, but answered by barging his blond-haired friend with his
shoulder to send him careening away. A few breaths later, he cried out, “No,
she’s not after me, but you! She wants the son of the man who came to steal
Godsland away from her!”

They
both laughed as they raced on, crying out and trying to knock each other off
their feet.

Soon
enough they reached their destination — the rocky shore where they had left
their raft.

Ulfarr
announced, “A draw!”

Brandr
laughed as they slowed. “I let you win!”

Ulfarr
chuckled as he shook his head and waved his friend toward the raft. “Come, let
us get it into the water.”

They
had put the raft together during the last summer, building it with driftwood
and finishing it off with some rope and planks. Godsland, the gateway to the
new western settlements for ships coming in from Greenland, held a fair supply
of both. Eskil had let his son take some off-cuts, as long as he promised never
to cross the channel or land alone in the rival lands of Lakeland.

Dazzled
by visions of grand voyages, Ulfarr would have agreed to anything.

The
boys went to where they had pulled the raft up, beyond the tide on to the
gravel beach, its oars stored safely beneath. They wasted no time dragging it
to the water before grabbing the paddles and pushing the craft out as they waded
in after it.

Climbing
aboard, Brandr lunged forward to claim the front with a cry, “Captain!”

Ulfarr
laughed and let him take the lead.

During
their play, with no adults around, this was one of the few times the boys could
act as equals. Back in the village, Brandr was destined to always come second
to Ulfarr, first born son of the man who led the Ravens.

After
Ulfarr took up his position at the rear, they both knelt, with oars in their
hands. The chilled water of the fjord splashed up between gaps in the planks
and sloshed about to wet their pants, but they were in high spirits and did not
care. With gusto, they began paddling.

Brandr
asked, “Where do we go?”

“Not
too far, we have only the afternoon.”

“It
would be good to go to Guldale and see the village and ironworks.”

Ulfarr
grinned. “You mean the twins?”

Brandr
looked back over his shoulder at his friend. “If only we could see more of
them. Once or twice a year is not enough!”

“You
think Karek is cute!”

“No!”
Brandr protested loudly.

“Yes,
you do!”

Brandr
was quiet for a moment before shrugging, “She and her brother are fun to be
with.”

Ulfarr
laughed before saying, “You do realise that to marry Karek would make Seta your
mother-by-law?”

Brandr’s
eyes widened. After thinking on it, he sighed, “Seta’s not that bad. She has
taught the twins a lot about the forests. Her woods-people know so much about
the land, the beasts, and the seasons here.”

Ulfarr
nodded as they paddled.

Before
long, they had left the gravel beach behind them and neared the middle of the
wide channel. Ulfarr said, “Well, we won’t be seeing the twins; by raft, it
takes all day to get to Guldale and back.”

“I
know,” Brandr said glumly. “But where do we go now?”

Ulfarr
looked out across the water, thinking of what might offer the most adventure.

The
steep shores of Lakeland loomed ahead.

Brandr
asked, “Shall we just take the raft back home to Godsland?”

They
both turned to look down the channel, where some of the rooftops of the village
showed, peaking above the hilltop. Most of the village hid in the gully beyond,
with the Godsland Hall nestled in its side. The top of the hill lay levelled
and ready for the new Raven Hall that Eskil and Ballr planned to build over
coming summers.

“No,
if we go now, we’ll get back too early. We’ll either be put to work or be asked
to watch over the younger children.”

“You
are right. This is the first time we’ve been able to get out on the raft since
the spring storms. Let’s not ruin it.”

They
paddled on, reaching the middle of the channel.

Normally,
they would now be headed one way or the other, towards Godsland or Guldale,
turning from Lakeland’s forbidden shores. But this time they were not.

After
a few quiet oar strokes, Brandr asked, “Do you think he’s there?”

Ulfarr
searched the patchy woodlands ahead, where they ran steeply down to the
shoreline of the fjord. “Thoromr One-Eye?”

“Yes.”

“No,
he’s not there.”

“What
do you mean — you don’t believe in him?”

“No,
not that. I believe in him, to not do so would be like calling your own father
a liar, as it was he who put out Thoromr’s eye.”

Brandr
grinned with pride. “So what do you mean?”

“That
the Lakeland vale is supposedly over that ridge, and that they have their own
new lands further on, just like our Guldale. That’s where Thoromr is. Just as
we don’t cross the water to their land here, they also don’t cross the ridge,
as it brings them too close to us. That’s why Thoromr One-Eye is not on that
shore. We call it theirs, but in truth, it is not. You’ve heard our fathers
talk about it; no one has seen anyone walk that shore for years. It is only a
borderland, too steep for farming or building a hall. It is nothing.”

Brandr
gave a nod. “My father says they are different now that Faraldr the Greenlander
has brought in his own people, same as he has to Godsland and Guldale. He says
Lakeland is only ruled over by Thoromr in name, that it is Aldis, his wife and
Faraldr’s sister, who truly wields the power.”

Ulfarr
agreed. “My father says the same, though it sounds as if One-Eye still has some
say in what happens.”

“He
has a son — a great and strong son with golden hair — who is a sure shot with a
bow.”

“Who
says that?” asked Ulfarr.

“My
father. He says that one day I might meet him and that I should be ready for
such a thing. He says that as our fathers have had a bloody history, so it is
also likely their sons will too.”

Ulfarr
thought about that. “It is true; Ballr is wise.”

Brandr
again turned and grinned at Ulfarr.

The
raft continued on, both boys paddling under the blue sky, as if waiting for the
other to stop or begin to change course. They were now two-thirds of the way
across the channel.

Brandr
asked, “Do you think One-Eye is as fierce as they say?”

“He
was when he murdered Ari and when Leif died, but they say he has changed since
he lost an eye. I think our parents tell us to keep away from Lakeland as a
caution, not because they really think he would grab us and kill us.”

Brandr
nodded. “My mother says they were surprised he survived the wound. He changed
after that, and again when he married Aldis.”

Ulfarr
had heard the same thing. “Travellers returning from Lakeland told my father
Thoromr is haunted by nightmares of the shades of Ari and Leif coming back from
their graves for him.”

“He
murdered Ari, everyone knows that; but he didn’t kill Leif.”

“Yes,
but people say he feels some of the guilt.”

“Could
they, Leif and Ari, come back from their graves for him?”

Ulfarr
shrugged. “The travellers told my father that Thoromr dug up Leif’s body
himself and smashed the skull to stop such a thing.”

Brandr
was fascinated. “What a creepy story!”

Ulfarr
nodded, but wore a perverse grin.

“You’re
lying — it can’t be true!”

Ulfarr’s
face became stern as he cursed. “By the gods, don’t call me a liar! That’s what
I’ve been told, which might not make it true, but it’s what I’ve heard and what
was reported to my father.”

Brandr
dipped his head and gave a nod. “Sorry. But what a tale! Why would he suddenly
have thought shades were about? What would make him so scared?”

“I
know my father has heard from some of the ships passing through on their way
back to Greenland that there have been troubles in Lakeland.”

They
rowed on.

“What
kind of trouble?”

“Things
stolen in the night — even people have gone missing.”

“Could
it be shades?”

“My
father thinks it must be thralls or skraelings.”

Brandr
looked ahead to the shoreline, the raft getting closer with each stroke. “Not
shades?”

“No.”

They
paddled on again in silence.

Brandr
broke the quiet as his eyes searched the woods of the nearing shore. “You were
right, what you said earlier, about the ridge-side being a borderland. No one
is ever there.”

“So,
where do you want to go now?” Ulfarr asked.

The
young Marklander gave into a daring grin. “To the shore. We won’t stay, but we
can at least say we have been to Lakeland and survived.”

Ulfarr
laughed. “We just have to be careful who we say it to. If my father finds out,
it will not be One-Eye who kills us!”

Brandr
nodded. “Yes, I’m not sure who’d punish me hardest if they found out; my mother
or my father.”

“Your
mother is kind-spirited — she’d never touch you!”

“She
is quiet and kind, but when she is angry, she is more frightening than Seta!”

Ulfarr
shook his head, laughing as he did. “That is hard to believe, but maybe that is
why she and Seta are such close friends.”

Brandr
also laughed. “Yes, I think they practice together on how to brood, growl and
give those chilly stares.”

Yet
they still rowed on.

Ulfarr
said, “Well, I did promise my father that I’d never go to Lakeland alone.”

“And
you’re not.”

Looking
to his friend, Ulfarr smiled and tried to convince himself that his father
would somehow approve of the adventure they were about to embark upon. Finally,
he pushed any doubts from his mind. “True.”

“Besides,
what could go wrong?”

And
so, with Brandr’s words hanging in the air, they made for shore.

They
came in slowly, looking for any sign of movement, but there was little to see
aside from some birds on the water and more in the trees. With a nod to each
other, they continued in.

After
landing, they hid their raft on the shore, amongst the branches of a fallen
tree. From there, they quietly took to the bank, hiding amongst shrubs and
trees to make sure no Lakelanders were about.

Birdsong
filled the branches overhead, the nearest birds watching the boys, paying no
heed to anything else. Their song and focus reassured Ulfarr and Brandr that
they were alone and that no man or beast lurked nearby.

Still,
they crouched in their hiding spot and waited.

Ulfarr’s
unease at the twisting of his promise to his father was beginning to nag at
him.

Time
passed, and thankfully, no foe emerged from the wooded slope to challenge them,
most certainly not a giant of a man with blond hair, a red beard and one eye.
In fact, they heard no sound other than the occasional flutter of wings, call
of birds, and light breeze passing through the trees.

They
were alone.

Reassured,
the two boys began to range along the shoreline at the bottom of the slope and
explore this long forbidden place.

Lakeland!

Cautiously,
they started to move further away from the water.

Each
boy took it in turn to advance, one passing the other. A few steps by one
obliged the other to match them — or dared them to go beyond. Before long, they
had left the raft behind and had begun to make their way up the steep ridge,
although they did take care and fall into a deep silence as they climbed a
switchback animal trail.

When
they were about a third of the way up the slope, Ulfarr grabbed Brandr’s arm
and brought their progress to a stop. He whispered, “Wait.”

“What’s
wrong?”

“Nothing,
but we have landed and can now make the claim. Why not go back and head
elsewhere?” his gaze never leaving the hillside as he spoke. Deep down he felt
they were alone, but at the same time, in his mind, the promise to his father
grew in weight.

This
was Lakeland. Empty borderland or not, they shouldn’t be here.

While
he had not really broken his promise, as he was not alone, he knew his father
hadn’t meant sneaking around the ridge with Brandr. Eskil would not be pleased.
No one back in Godsland would be. Ulfarr knew as well as anyone what had
happened to Ari.

Thoromr
had murdered him.

Brandr
looked disappointed. He’d been a little anxious earlier, but now that they had
landed, he seemed to relish being on the same shoreline where his own father
had long ago so famously half-blinded Thoromr and gifted the wild Lakelander
the title of One-Eye. “We’re here now; we should make the most of it. Besides,
where else would we go?”

Ulfarr
grimaced. “We still have time to get out to the runestone and back home before
the sun sets.”

Brandr
looked to the sky. “Perhaps, but we’ve done that before. Many times.”

“What
do you want to do?”

“You
know what we could do, now that we’re here?”