Prologue
The thirteenth warrior shall be no Northman.
Thirteen warriors sailed to the land of Hrothgar.
Fourteen arrived at the Mead Hall. And two were not Northmen.
One was a Northwoman.
Come and I shall tell you the untold tale of the last of Aslaug's children. The lost child, the lost and forgotten one. Much like you, young and restless in the world…and alone. Alone and forsaken. No one was told of the role played by this girl.
Yes, when set alongside such warriors as Herger the Joyous, Edgtho the Silent and Buliwyf himself, she would diminish in her worth and renown. And you are right. None remember her…none know she was there. Perhaps she prefers it that way. Renown is not what she was seeking. She left that to those who thought fame was all that mattered.
She sought revenge for what had been done, not only to her kin, but to her. Left to die, abandoned, orphan of the wilds…she found herself living alone, slipping slowly into the madness of despair and hopelessness. And that was how they found her, alone and stripped of everything; sanity, possessions, hope…
This tale may seem fantastic to you. If you do not believe in the truth of this story, at least enjoy it as a fanciful yarn of what the old days used to be.
So remember the fourteenth traveler. And remember the warrior known as the Mist Runner.