The Damaged Soul by Troy Calkins

“For the love of the gods, do you remember as younglings when we used to come here all the time to try to lift that hammer?” Thorkel asks as we enter the cave together. This time, we’re much older than we used to be. Father is retired from raids, and now Thorkel is captain and raid leader. It’s crazy to think about how things have changed. After winter passes, I will become a man and I can finally join my brother out on raids. To say I’m nervous would be like calling a thunderstorm a sprinkle. I’m terrified. But that is tomorrow’s problem. I cannot worry about tomorrow’s problem when today I can rejoice.

Today, my brother and I will get married. To say it like that sounds just wrong. My brother is marrying Asfrid and I will marry Arngunn. Not a person in our village is surprised by this. We’ve been all but inseparable since we were just little younglings. My brother and Asfrid only waited so long so that we could all be wedded on the same day and share our joy. And I am definitely nervous.

“Relax,” Thorkel says. “You look as strung up as a drawn bowstring.”

“How can you be so calm when we’re about to be married men? This… This is… This is the most important day of our lives. This is the day we will be wedded to the women that we love. That will bear our children.”

“Brother… You are making war out of a dispute.”

“I am not. Why would I want to make war? That’s not what I want.”

Thorkel only drags his hand down his face, yanking at his braided blonde beard. “You’re making this more than it needs to be. Nothing will change for the most part. You already spend most days with Arni as it is. There is no need to make yourself worry.”

“But it is a big deal. She will be my wife. That means we can have children, right? What if I am not a good father? What then? What if my son thinks I’m not a good warrior?”

Thorkel shakes his head before he walks up to me and puts his hands on my shoulders. I stare into his blue eyes that are just like mine and our father’s. His blonde hair has grown long. “You need to believe in yourself more. That’s your problem. You are so filled with doubt that you do not think you are capable of anything. And you spend too much time thinking about what you will do wrong. Stop thinking about what could happen in the future. Spend more time thinking about what you need to do to become a good father and a good warrior. That is how you need to think. But at some point, you’ll need to stop thinking and start doing. It is one thing to think about what you need and another thing to do it. That is what father taught me, and something you still need to learn.”

“I wish I got to spend more time with father.” I look up at the hammer, still sitting there with its gold trim and words no one can read. It hasn’t aged or even gained a spec of dirt on it.

“You will. It is good most of the time. He can be a real bastard at times, but even then, you’ll realize it’s all a lesson. It always is with him. He’ll groom you into what he wants you to be. The man is as sharp as a freshly made battle ax by the grumpy old dwarf.”

“Of course, he is, that’s why his name will always be remembered in history, and so will yours and probably the old grumpy dwarf,” I say, getting a laugh from my brother.

He squeezes my shoulder. “Yours will too if you can believe in yourself.”

He lets go and walks over to the hammer and gives it one more tug to no avail. “It was worth a try. It seems no matter how strong I get; I still can’t lift the damn thing. Are you ever going to give it a try?”

I shrug. “Ehh. Even with the hammer, I doubt I could ever be as good a warrior as you.”

His face goes stale. “That’s because you never try.”

“We figured you two would be here,” a warm, familiar feminine voice echoes out.

Both Thorkel and I look up to find Asfrid and Arngunn walking in. Asfrid smiles as she walks up to the hammer. “It feels like it was not that long ago we were here as younglings. Remember the time your mother and Sigvor caught us fighting with Gorm and his henchmen?”

“How could I forget?” Thorkel asks as he looks at her with a smirk. “Our mother had us doing slave work until father came home. But at least we gave Grom a good arse kicking.”

Arngunn’s smile warms my heart and is the reason it beats. I take her hand and gently squeeze it. “That day was not my finest moment. I stood like a coward while you all fought.”

Arngunn’s smile vanishes as she looks at me with confusion. “That is not how I remember it. You protected me while I hid behind you. I was the coward.”

“That’s not true. You were only a little girl, there wasn’t much you could do. But I let my brother, Solmund, and Griotgard fight an unfair battle without aiding them.”

“Ehh, don’t turn a raindrop into a thunderstorm,” Thorkel says waving us off with his hand. “We were children. Besides, Skardi was the fool on the ground laughing. Although I’m still not entirely sure it was these mushrooms. I’m starting to believe that’s just who he is.”

Asfrid laughs. “He is definitely a few arrows short of a full quiver, but that’s why we love him. He’s mad for sure, but a genius in his own right.”

“Yes, I couldn’t have said it better myself.” Thorkel smiles at her.

“Why did you two come up all this way? Don’t you know it’s bad luck to see your betrothed before the ceremony? Our marriage is sure to have bad luck now,” I say.

“Oh, don’t be so superstitious. It won’t change anything. We’ll still be together no matter what. It was fated by the gods,” Arngunn says as she puts her warm hand against my cheek. I hold it there.

“You know, I’ve read many books since coming here as children and I still haven’t discovered what these runes mean,” Asfrid says as she kneels by the hammer, taking a closer look at its inscription.

Thorkel shrugs. “It’s just words. What significance could words have anyway?”

Asfrid only shakes her head. “One day your lack of knowledge will hurt you. I just hope I can make you see the error of your ways before that day comes.”

He laughs as he pulls her into his arms. “I will not stop you from trying.”

We ignore them as Arni and I both brush strings of hair out of each other’s faces. She leans in and our lips touch. Her kiss is as sweet as ripe summer berries.

“Are you four going to miss your own wedding day?” All four of us break apart as Skardi, Solmund, and Griotgard walk in. “Thorkel, Bothvar, your mother is about ready to commit murder. She already threatened to turn us all into pigs if we do not get you four down there to get ready.”

“He’s not jesting. I saw her toss a mug of mead at your father. He’s now hiding in his ship. Your mother scares me. Can she really turn us into pigs?” Griotgard asks.

“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t doubt it. I’ve seen her do stranger things,” Thorkel says with a visible tremble. “We better go. I do not want to incur her wrath.”

“Do you think we can do magic? We are her children after all. We did come out of her womb. You’d think we’d be able to do a little bit,” I ask as we hurry down the slope of the mountain and rush back through the gate.

Thorkel only shrugs. “Don’t know, don’t even want to try.”

There’s no sneaking back into town as our mother is on us like an eagle diving down on its prey from the sky. “Where have you four been? We have been working tirelessly to prepare such a special day and you four disappear on us!”

She looks at Asfrid and Arngunn. “I’m not mad at you two, only these halfwits. But still, it is bad luck to see your betrothed before the ceremony. Why don’t you both go find my sister Sigvor and the rest of the women? They’ll get you all ready for the ceremony.”

She turns on us with a finger out. “And you two. You are lucky you are now men, even though you seem to behave otherwise, or I would have you doing slave work for the foreseeable future! I had torn apart half the town looking for you two. Don’t you dare say a word. Just because you are men doesn’t mean I can’t tan your hide like I once did when you were boys. Today of all days you have to wander off. You two are just like your father. Always getting into trouble. I swear to the gods, you two will be the death of me. Thank the gods Thormar is nothing like you two. I hope and pray Svala and Bodvar don’t grow to behave like the both of you. Now come on. You both need a bath and something needs to be done about your hair!”

She practically drags us by our beards before tossing us into the hall. If we had an army of women like her, we’d be unbeatable. My mother’s servants attack us, forcing us into the bathhouse, scrubbing the filth off us and doing up our hair while mother has us dress in proper linens. She even puts some gooey stuff in our hair to make it look slick and practically gives us a second bath in these strong-smelling oils that smell like the forest.

Then she examines us with a fine-tooth comb, straightening wrinkles, licking her thumb to swipe our eyebrows, and dusting off our shoulders until she’s satisfied with how we look. Then the strangest thing happens. Her entire face contorts as tears stream down from her eyes and she pulls us both in a hug tight enough to put a bear to shame. Women are truly strange creatures. “Oh, my boys. You’ve grown up so fast. Where did all the time go? You’re getting married. Oh, for the love of the gods, you’re finally tying the knot. You could not have picked two finer girls than Asfrid and Arngunn. The gods must have written it in the stars; you four were born to be together. I’m so happy to finally see this day. Oh, I’m just sad it came so soon. One minute you were babies, and now you’re both full-grown men.”

She sighs as she grabs a cloth to wipe her eyes. And just like that, she’s back to being the woman I know as she jams her finger into both of our chests. “Don’t you go screwing this up? This will be the best thing to happen to you until you have children of your own. And the gods know more than any that you two need a good woman to keep you out of trouble. Even so, it hasn’t done your father much good. Where is he, anyway? You both stay right here. I swear to the gods if I come back and you’re both missing, you’ll wish I tanned your hides.”

She storms out like a gust of wind from the north. “Psst. Psst.”

Thorkel and I trade looks. “You heard that, right?”

He nods. We look around. “Psst.”

That’s when I see our father poke his head out from behind the hallway to the barn. “Is it safe to come out? Is she gone?”

I fight the laughter trying to force its way out and nod. He relaxes as he walks into the hall, straightening his fine linen clothing before he eyes us, stroking his long, dirty blonde beard. His blue eyes seem to see right through us. “Thank the gods. I truly thought she was going to turn me into a pig. I know she can. I’ve seen her do it. The woman can be completely mad sometimes. I love her, but she is one of the few things I am truly afraid of, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll fear your wives as well. Now come here, you two. I’ve got something I want to tell you.”

We both walk up to him as he puts a hand on each of our shoulders. “You’re men now. About to be married men at that. I’m proud of you both. Many people think to be a true Viking is to be a fearless warrior who raids and fights to earn his spot in Valholl. That is certainly true. But a true Viking is also a good husband. At least as good as he can be. Sometimes it can be really difficult. Especially when your wife threatens to turn you into a pig and she has the power to do so.”

He quickly looks around, an instant of fear in his eyes. It is an absurd thing to see one of the bravest warriors I have ever known cower in fear of his own wife. Even so, I don’t lose any respect for my father because I know that fear all too well. It is a confusing fear. Even though I fear the woman, I love her with all my heart.

“As I was saying, being a Viking is more than being a sea warrior, or a husband for that matter. You have to be a father. There is no more important task in being a member of the Kraken clan than carrying on our legacy through your children. I know, I haven’t always been present in your lives. Especially you, Bothvar, but if you learn anything from me, learn what I have just told you. Take care of your family. Take care of your wife and the children she gives you. Protect them with your own life if the gods require it. And for the love of the gods, do what you can to avoid angering your wife. It is an impossible task and you will fail at it. Trust me, I know this to be true, but try, nonetheless. Do this, and you will always have my pride. My love is already and always will be yours,” he says as he looks us both in the eyes. It always feels as if those eyes see everything. “Now come here.”

He grabs both of our heads and pulls us in for a hug. “This day is a day for praise and celebration. Enjoy it. For this is the last day of your freedom.”

We both pull back and look at him with a fair bit of caution, but before we can say anything mother barges in, and father’s eyes go wide with a moment of fear. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere! How is the feast coming along? Do we have enough food for everyone? Did you prepare for a sacrifice as I asked you to? What about the sacred artifacts for the ritual of marriage? My sister is already set to perform the ritual to bind them in marriage. For the sake of the gods, Beorcol, do something about your hair and that wild mess of a beard. This is a very important day and you look like a raggedy vagabond.”

“For the sake of the gods, woman, one at a time! The feast is well on its way to being ready. I’ve got three pigs, a bull, six chickens, and a bear we managed to hunt being cooked as we speak. We got enough food to feed the town twice over. And remind me what the other things were again.”

Thorkel and I can hardly hold in our laughter. Father gives us a cold stare. “Just you two wait. You’ll experience this soon enough.”

Just then, Bodvar and Svala rush in with Thormar on their heels and the dog, Ruffles, dashing in behind. “Slow down! I swear to the gods if you mess the hall up, you’ll be in a world of hurt.”

I still can barely fathom how old they’ve all gotten. Thormar is now as old as I was when Thorkel went out on his first raid with Father and Svala’s not far behind. Bodvar has gotten big as well. He’s now as old as Thorkel was back when we discovered that hammer. These days seem to go by far too fast.

My mother’s glare turns back on my father. “I was saying, have you gotten everything needed for the ritual? Sigvor gave you a list.”

“Ahh, yes, I got it all. Don’t worry. Oh, and Kadal and his wife, Ulfeid, along with their children are here, and Eawyn, Teowulf’s widow, is here with her daughter… Scyra, I think her name is. And the Valkyrie tribe is here. The three chieftesses, Dasyra Ragnarsdóttir, Amalgunda, and Amalasontha, have also arrived with their kin. I still don’t understand why the women need three chieftesses. Makes little sense to me. Is that all?” my father asks.

My mother’s eyes go as wide as rubies as she attacks my father’s beard and hair. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? Have they been properly greeted and welcomed? Has anyone else arrived? What about Trefor from the Builder’s Clan? And Thorweald of the Eagle Clan? I doubt he’ll come though, because the Eagles rarely ever show up to anything. I will warn you; I sent out invitations to Bjarni and the Wolf Clan, but I don’t think they will come.”

Father’s eyes got even wider than mother’s. “Are you crazy, woman? Why would you invite those bastards from the Wolf Clan? You can’t trust a Wolf. They’ll only cause trouble. They’re treacherous. If it wasn’t for King Teowulf, may he feast in Valholl, I would’ve killed them all. And for the sake of the gods, stop tugging!”

“It was the right thing to do for such an occasion like this. At least we can say we tried. Now, hold still! This beard isn’t even fit to nest a bird. Why didn’t you have it braided as I asked? Come. I’ll have one of the slaves do it,” she says as she literally drags him by the beard.

“I hope that isn’t something we have to look forward to,” Thorkel says, wide-eyed.

“I don’t think so. Asfrid and Arni are nothing like our mother. Right?” I look up to him for reassurance and find none.

He only shrugs. “At least they can’t do magic.”

We both chuckle, but I stop short. What if they can do magic? “Right… I mean. They can’t do magic, right? I’ve never seen them do magic. Have you?”

“I don’t even know how one does magic. I mean, when mother does it, I do feel something. I don’t know what, but it’s there. But I still have no idea what she is doing. Ehh… Who needs magic anyway?” he says as he runs his hands through his slick, braided hair.

Svala and Bothvar come running back with Ruffles at their feet and Thormar chasing after them. Thorkel grabs Bodvar and Svala by the collars of their tunics. “Better stop playing. You don’t want to get mother madder than she already is.”

“Yeah, he’s right for once. Now give me back my compass!” Thormar says. I just noticed the scruff growing on his face. Thorkel waves his hand at the two and Bodvar finally pulls out the compass from around his neck and gives it to Thorkel, who hands it to Thormar.

“I see someone growing some pig hair,” I say, and Thorkel bursts out laughing.

Thormar quickly rubs his face as it turns bright red. “It’s just the start. One day I’ll have a beard better than both of yours.”

“I’m glad I won’t get a beard. Why do you even want hair on your face?” Svala asks.

“It keeps your face warm during winter and out on the sea,” Thorkel says.

“Will I grow a beard?” Bodvar asks as he rubs his face.

“I’m not so sure about you. Only real Viking men grow beards. Do you think you’re tough enough?” Thorkel asks as he squats down to Bodvar’s level.

Bodvar puffs out his chest and beats a fist against it. “I am tough enough. Yesterday, I mounted the bull and rode him for five full breaths before he bucked me off.”

Thorkel bellows a laugh. “You might just prove to be Viking yet.”

“He reminds me of you,” I say, slapping his back. “Don’t let mother find out you did that or she’ll have you cleaning up pig shit for the rest of the summer.”

“Oh, for the love of the gods, he’s right. Bothvar and I have spent many days cleaning pig shit for the trouble we got into!” Thorkel spits out, laughing.

“That is gross. I’m glad I don’t have to do that. Mother’s been forcing me to train with Aunty Sigvor to become a wise one, but I don’t want to. I want to be a shield maiden. If you tell anyone, I will put a dead fish under your bed, but father has given me a few lessons in private. It’s a secret,” Svala says.

“Oh, is that so? Well, I suppose I won’t tell anyone,” Thorkel says, shrugging.

Svala glares at him. “I will have Ruffles shit on your pillow if you utter one word about it to mother!”

We all laugh. Thorkel’s face grows still. “Did you really teach him to do that?”

Svala only smirks. “You won’t want to find out for sure. Besides, I want to be just like Aunty Ingithora. She goes out to sea with uncle Koll and fights beside him. I heard she cut a man’s head off who tried to attack uncle Koll. She’s a true warrior!” Svala puffs out her chest and pretends to be just like her.

“What about me? Don’t you want to be like me? Aren’t I a true warrior?” Thorkel asks, sticking out his bottom lip.

“Yes, but you’re a man. I don’t want to be a man. I want to be a woman. A shield maiden. And a sea navigator like Aunty Ingithora. I heard she can see the land from the other side of the sea!” She claims.

“I don’t know about that, but I’m sure if you work hard enough you can become a warrior just like her,” I say, scuffing up her hair. She smacks my hand away. “Maybe you should ask her to teach you how to navigate the sea.”

“I have and she is.” Her eyes go wide as her hands clamp against her mouth. “I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about that. It was supposed to be a secret.”

We all laugh. This time, Thorkel messes her hair up. “Don’t worry little sister, your secret is safe with us.”

“I want to be like father, uncle Koll, great uncle Alvi, and Aldam. Aldam’s so strong he can shatter a boulder with a swing of his hammer. I saw him do it,” Bodvar says as he imitates him. “That’s why I collect hammers, because I want to be as strong as him.”

Thorkel just smirks. “Is that so? You really think you can be as strong as him?”

He flexes his muscles to show us. “I’ll be so strong; you bloody goat turds won’t be able to beat me.”

We all laugh as Bodvar crosses his hands against his chest. “You are a bunch of arselickers with cowpies for brains.”

That only makes us laugh even harder.

“You know, in two summers, I will be old enough to go with you both on sea raids,” Thormar declares.

“Is that so?” Thorkel asks as he brings his hand up to his beard to stroke it and his eyes narrow to consider Thormar.

“It is so. I’ll become a man and I’ll get married too,” he says in all surety.

“Well, age isn’t the only thing that determines if you’re able to raid or not. You have to be brave, capable, and competent. Are you those things?” Thorkel asks.

“Well… Yeah. I think so,” Thormar says as he runs a hand through his blonde hair. The back is completely shaved while Thorkel and I have our sides shaved and the tops long with the hair braided in typical Viking fashion.

“What does it mean to be competent?” Bodvar asks.

Thorkel and I chuckle.

“I’m competent. Does that mean I can raid?” Svala asks.

“You don’t even know what that means either,” Bodvar says as he kicks the back of her knee, making it buckle.

She turns to him and gives him a good kick in the shin, which earns a loud cry from him as he hobbles on one foot, holding his leg. “What in the name of Hel did you do that for?”

“Because you deserved it,” she says, folding her arms against her chest and sticking her tongue out at him.

Bodvar goes to kick her right back, but she dodges out of the way and sticks her tongue at him again.

“Who are you going to marry, Thormar?” Thorkel asks with a devious grin.

“I don’t know yet, but whoever she will be, she’ll be a shield maiden,” Thormar declares, beating his chest. “A smart one at that, like Aunty Ingithora.”

“I want to marry Greiland Kollsdottir. She’s a shield maiden, and she’s got a big butt,” Bodvar says. Thorkel and I nearly keel over with laughter. Bodvar tilts his head at us. “What? What is so funny?”

“Nothing, little brother, nothing at all,” Thorkel says, patting his shoulder.

Our great uncle Alvi pops in with Gudrod behind him. Gudrod is all smiles as he walks up to us. “Hey, Thorkel! Hey, Bothvar! I can’t believe you are both going to get married, although I’m not surprised it’s to Asfrid and Arngunn. Are you guys nervous?”

“Of course not,” Thorkel says with a smile, puffing out his chest.

“Speak for yourself,” I mumble under my breath.

“I would be. Do you guys need any help with anything?” the boy asks with so much enthusiasm.

“I think we’re all good, Gudrod. But thank you for asking,” I say.

“Well, you boys have grown up right before my very eyes. I could not be prouder,” great uncle Alvi says. “I swear to the gods, I blink and you go from a couple of knuckleheads who constantly get in trouble to full-grown men. Time stops for no one.”

“You can say that again,” Thorkel says, scratching his beard.

“Well, we just came to congratulate you two. It couldn’t have been a more perfect pairing,” Uncle Alvi says with a smile. “Just remember, a happy wife makes a happy life. Cherish the time you spend with them; you never know what moment will be your last. Trust me, I’m an old man who’s lived it all.”

“We will take your word for it, uncle,” Thorkel says, patting him on the shoulder. But uncle pulls us both into a great big hug.

Then Thormar pesters him with more questions about his journeys. Especially west. Great Uncle Alvi, along with my father, are some of the few Vikings who journeyed west and lived to tell about the tale. Of course, this was long before they were betrayed by my uncle Borgar.

Just then, my father’s long-time friend, Koll Alriksson, the husband of my mother’s sister, Ingithora Alvisdottir, walks in with her by his side. His other two wives must be with our betrothed. With him is their eldest, Veleif, who is much older than Thorkel by several cycles, along with the second eldest son, Svafar, who is just a few cycles older than Thorkel, and Saxi, who’s also older than Thorkel. Gilli and Tyrkir bring up the rear. Gilli is Thorkel’s age, while Tyrkir is my age. The five daughters and the wives of the sons must be with Koll’s other wives. I just noticed Starolf Saxison, Gudrik Svafarson, and Hunbogi Veleifson walk in behind. All three are Thormar’s age. Their family is enormous enough to man Koll’s ship without the aid of outsiders. That in itself makes Koll’s family one of the wealthiest aside from our own. It helps when you don’t have to cut your profits to your crew when they are all your children or your children’s children. I couldn’t imagine having three wives, especially seeing what my own father has to deal with. Koll is a patient man.

“It is good to see you all on this fine day, my nephews and my little niece,” Aunt Ingithora says with a smile as she bends down and pulls my little brother Bodvar and Svala into a hug. She has her silky brown hair braided immaculately. Her eyes seem to shimmer blue. “You two are getting bigger every time I see you.”

“We saw each other yesterday,” Svala says. She tosses her blonde hair back.

“And yet it seems like you’ve grown at least a finger taller. You’ll be a shield maiden yet,” Aunty says. Svala’s eyes go wide with a smile, but she quickly puts a finger to her lips. Ingithora smiles and winks at her. “Don’t worry, it is still our secret.”

Koll steps up to Thorkel and me and pats us both on the shoulders. His black beard has grown a little gray. “I cannot say I’m surprised to see you both tying yourselves to Hrut’s daughters. May he feast in Valholl. You’ve been tied to them since the day any of you could walk. Hrut was a dear friend of mine and your father, and I know the man would be proud to give you his daughters’ hands in marriage. He always knew only the strongest of Krakens would marry his daughters, and he was not wrong. You two will grow to give your father a run for his coin.”

“Thank you. It means a lot to us,” Thorkel says with a nod. “Living up to our father will certainly be a large shield to pick up.”

“And there’s no one better to do that than the two of you. Fighters from the day you fell out of the womb. Can’t say I’m surprised with the womb you came out of. That woman makes a bear seem tame,” he says with a chuckle. Ingithora punches him on the shoulder. He feigns being hurt. ”What was that for?”

“That is my sister you’re talking about,” she says with eyes full of fire. And I can definitely see the resemblance when she has that look. The same flame my mother burns in her own eyes when she’s mad. But Ingithora is a bit younger and far less temperamental. She turns to us and covers her mouth from Koll. “She does have a bit of a nasty temper, though. I’ve been at the wrong end of it far too many times.”

“You’re telling us. She nearly hung us up by our ankles on our own wedding day,” Thorkel says with a laugh as he scratches the back of his neck. I laugh reluctantly. I swear the woman knows when you’re talking about her. “Can she really turn us into pigs?”

“Ahh, there you are, sister,” my mother says as she walks in. Ingithora gives us a silent nod, making us all go as stiff as a trunk. “I’m sure you aren’t talking about me now, are you?”

See? It must be some kind of magic. Even Koll’s eyes are as large as a gold coin. Ingithora just smiles. “Of course not. You always think everything is about you. We were just giving your sons some tips on how to maintain a good marriage. That is all.”

“Okay. Well, come. Sigvor needs your help,” she says as she grabs Ingithora’s arm and practically drags her out of the hall.

“Your mother must have hearing like a hare,” Koll says. The man has always been a hero to me. He’s a tall man with broad shoulders. He keeps his hair cut short with a neatly trimmed beard that’s showing specks of gray. But even he shows fear of my mother and her sisters.

“I think it’s just when her name is spoken. Some kind of magic or something,” Thorkel says, pulling at the collar of his tunic.

“Yeah, that could be it.” He strokes his beard in consideration.

“So, are you two nervous? I was certainly nervous when I married Halldora and Thorballa. But I really didn’t have a choice. The Cnut Daughters were going to marry me whether I liked it or not. Thankfully, I liked it,” Veleif says. He has Koll’s black hair with a short goatee and a mustache. He’s just as tall as Koll and has the same build. Basically, a miniature Koll. Just one wife shy.

“I sure am. Especially after seeing how my mother is always bossing my father around. Is that what we have to look forward to?” I ask.

“I’m afraid so,” Koll says with a laugh. “It gets worse when you marry more than one. They seem to gang up on you and you have nowhere to run. I can’t even raid anymore without one of them coming with me. I swear they always have an eye on me.”

“Speaking of raiding, Koll. I’ve wanted to talk to you about something. Why has no one ever sailed beyond the Dead Sea? Beyond the Elven Woods. Thormar has a bunch of maps of islands farther west with Southern Pirates. Could there be more plunder there?” Thorkel asks.

“That’s what I have been saying!” Thormar says, flinging his hands in the air.

“Your father and I discussed this many times. South may be our familiar hunting grounds, but we both agree west might hold more opportunity. However, there are far more dangers to the west. You know why we call ourselves the Kraken clan?” Koll asks as Thorkel shrugs and I shake my head no. “Because it is real. A monster unlike any you’ve ever seen. It stalks the waters out to the northwest. I’ve seen it myself take down a ship. Long tentacles that can reach taller than our masts. I’ve seen it drag ships down under. That’s not the only danger out there, nor the only monster. There’s a monster that can suck the water into what looks like a whirlpool, but don’t be deceived. If you get close enough, you’ll see its teeth rise out of the water like shark fins. It has long tentacles that snare you and drag you into its gaping maw that leads into the abyss. They call it the Charybdis. The only problem is that it’s between a pass, and the only way around it is to sail near a different monster with multiple heads. Some call it a Scylla. If you get past them, you’ll have to fight off the Merrow.”

“The Merrow?” Thormar asks, narrowing his eyes. “I’ve never heard of them.”

“It’s good you haven’t, boy. They’re people of the sea, like mermaids but far more vicious. They’ll attack anything that comes into their waters. I’ve heard they eat the flesh of their victims. No one knows for sure because no one has fought them and lived to tell the tale,” he says.

“Then how do we know about them?” I ask.

“That is a good question, isn’t it? Well, my father was sailing out to raid when he saw the Merrow attack a ship in front of him. They killed everyone on board. Fortunately, my father’s ship turned tail and ran. Everyone on the ship will give you the same story. These Merrow... uh... fish people swarmed the ship and attacked like rabid dogs. And those aren’t the only things you have to worry about. There are lots of those Southern Pirates you have to fight. And then there’re the elves. They call themselves the Golden High Elf Trading Company and have a fleet of ships dedicated to capturing and killing pirates. They link us in with them for good reason. I’ve heard other tales of even more things under the sea. Like sea wizards that are also like mermaids. And mermaids themselves. Plus, the Cirein-croin among others we haven’t even discovered yet. I’ve even heard tales of a creature called the Leviathan and a turtle as big as an island named Mackinaw.”

“What if we stay closer to the shoreline? Surely the Merrow won’t come that close,” Thorkel asks.

“Perhaps. Then what about the elves?” he asks.

“We’ll take them as slaves,” Thorkel says.

“That is easier said than done. Trust me. But I think it’s possible to go west and avoid these dangers. I certainly wanted to try in my youth. Still do. Perhaps you could be right. Maybe if we sail with the shoreline in sight, we might be able to avoid the dangers of the sea monsters and the Merrow. Perhaps,” he says as he runs his fingers through his beard. “I’ll have to talk to your aunt and your father about such things.”

Thorkel nods. Koll puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes. “We will see. Anyhow, we just came to wish you good fortune before the ceremony. We’ll talk about this later. Okay?”

Thorkel nods. Koll clasps our arms one after another before he leaves. Veleif gives us both a pat on the shoulder. Saxi and Svafar do the same. Gili and Tyrkir each pull us into bear hugs. Starolf, Gudrik, and Hunbogi all give nods. Then Starolf and Gudrik clasp Thormar’s hand before they leave.

Aldam Bronzehammer comes in with two boxes. He’s no taller than half a man, but stronger than five at the very least. Our people have a great deal of respect for dwarves. There are no finer craftsmen, and they are fierce warriors. “Well, kiss a ram’s ass and call me an elf. I never thought you two arsefaces would finally find enough sense to settle down, even though you and those girls are practically attached to the hip.”

The old dwarf always had a way with words, and he pulls laughs out of us. Especially our little siblings. Svala most of all. “They are definitely arsefaces.”

Aldam laughs. “You’ve always been my favorite, Svala. These idiots have brains made out of pig shit, but yours is pure gold.”

“Hey, are we not your best apprentices?” Thorkel asks, acting offended.

“Ehh, you’re not my worst. I’ll admit, you all have proven to be not total troll shit with a hammer, and your work isn’t complete garbage. Not like some people I’ve seen banging on an anvil. Let me tell ya, and I’ve seen some goblin piss excuses for blacksmiths. Especially with you humans. Even some dwarves need to take the hammer out of their arses. You should see some of those Southern goat humpers. They couldn’t tell the head of the hammer from the grip. Bloody bunch of slags, the lot of ’em. Although I heard from my mother and father that the little princeling might have some potential. He’s training with them and my cousin Prince Borlann Ironhammer. Apparently, he’s not a total royal snob.”

“You speak highly of a Southern prince? Surely, he’s nothing but a swine fucker,’ Thorkel says with clear disdain.

“You listen here, boy. I’ll give you a lesson that you should never forget. Never underestimate your enemy, or anyone, for that matter. Just because he’s your enemy and you hate him doesn’t mean he’s weak or stupid. Hell, it doesn’t even mean he’s wrong or even evil. But don’t mistake them for fools or you’ll see your mistake at the cost of your life. As much as I hate those tree-hugging, deer-humping, pointy-eared, bastard Wood Elves, I won’t underestimate their military might and I know they’re not lacking for brains. They are one of the fiercest enemies I have ever faced on the battlefield, and I have much respect for them as warriors even though I would love to bash their skulls in with my hammer. You should do well to keep that in mind if you ever do find yourselves on the opposite side of the battlefield from this Prince Arald. He’s the son of the same man who proved my point. King Teowulf was a great man and a fierce warrior, but he made the same mistake of underestimating King Vandil and it earned him his death. Learn from his mistake and don’t make it with the little princeling even though he’s most likely a stuck-up little prissy boy.”

“You always speak the truth, as hard as it is to hear, my friend,” Thorkel admits as he puts his hand on Aldam’s shoulder. “I’m grateful we had the opportunity to learn from you. I won’t underestimate this prince, but one day we will face him and take back what is rightfully ours. That I promise you.”

“Aye. I don’t doubt it. You two have grown to become men I respect. That’s rare. Just don’t let your hate for these Southerners lead you to a war that would leave many of your people dead. Trust me, my people have learned the hard way about the cost of war. We’ve fought the Wood Elves ever since our two races discovered each other many centuries ago. Many great dwarves died in our wars with the elves, and what for? Neither side has gained an inch. The only thing we’ve accomplished with our fighting is death and destruction. We’ve lost a lot of our great creations and some of the most honored heroes in these battles, and I’ve lost some of my closest friends and family during the many wars we’ve had. It’s made me a bitter old dwarf. That’s why I’m here. My siblings and I have come to the north to find what was lost. To find our way once more. The way of the hammer and forge. Before our wars, we sought to create and build, but we’ve become destroyers instead. Don’t make our mistakes. Carve your own path.”

Skardi, Solmund, and Griotgard walk in looking a bit more groomed than earlier. Aldam gives us both a nod. “Well, I’ll be off. There are a few more things I need to be doing before the wedding. I just came to wish you good luck and give you these. You’ve both earned them.”

He hands us the two boxes and we open them to find a hammer for both of us. Not just any hammer, they’re beautifully crafted hammers that are really lightweight and well-balanced. It looks smoother and brighter than iron.

“Is that steel?” Thormar asks.

“No. It’s better. Lighter than steel and just as hard. Not as strong as Nedraetium, but far lighter. You can’t find the metal around here. It’s only found in lands far south of here,” the dwarf says.

“I don’t know what to say, my friend. This gift is much appreciated,” Thorkel says.

“Yes, this is far better than we deserve,” I say with a smile.

“Aye, for once, I’m proud to disagree with you. You boys have earned those. Just promise me, you’ll only use them to create and not destroy. That is what it means to be a Bronzehammer and a blacksmith. We use our hammers to build and not break,” he says with pride.

Both Thorkel and I nod. “We will.”

“Good, now I’ll be off. Much to do and little time to do it,” the dwarf says as he walks out, grumbling about all the things that need to be done.

Griotgard steps up and places his hands on our shoulders. “Well, you two are about to become thralls to the Hrutdottirs. Do you really want to spend the rest of your lives getting told what to do by a woman?”

“How is it any different than it is now? They already tell us what to do.” Thorkel chuckles.

“That is true,” Skardi says with a laugh. “They have you as tamed as a dog.”

The three of them laugh.

“Did they teach you both any new tricks?” Griotgard asks. “If they haven’t, I’m sure fetch will be the first one you’ll learn.”

Even Thormar laughs at that one. Thorkel and I both share a flat face. Thorkel gives an over-exaggerated sarcastic laugh. “Just you wait. You’ll get shackled down eventually. And then you won’t be laughing.”

“Well, maybe not all of you,” Thorkel adds as he looks at Skardi.

“You’re not wrong. It’d take a different sort of woman to chain me down,” he says with a smile.

Mother bursts back in and grabs Thorkel and me. “You two! It’s time. Come on. Let’s go.”