Chapter I

Unexpected Companion

The sky was one unending sheet of gray, broken with a few tears of charcoal. Fog lay heavy over the water, coating everything in a dampness that seemed to seep through to the bones.

Ahmed Ibn Fahalan Ibn Al Abbas Ibn Rashid Ibn Hamad sat miserably, trying not to show his discomfort. He was still unused to the cold, wet climate of these northern lands, but he dare not give the men he traveled with any more reasons to jeer at him, however 'innocent' their jibes were. Shifting the weight of the heavy broadsword slung across his back, he stood, squinting his eyes as he looked toward the others.

"Edgtho has been gone a while," came the voice of one. He recognized the voice of Ragnar, a grim-faced old warrior.

"Even he is unfamiliar with these lands," came the answer from the smallest of the group, a man known by the name of Herger. He left the others to join Ahmed, passing him a gleeful smile, "Why the frown, little brother? Do you not find this land a pleasant one? Or have you tired of being wet?" He laughed, thumping Ahmed heartily on the back, almost knocking him over.

Ahmed righted himself, watching as the horses were unloaded from the ship, tossing their heads as they were brought onto dry land again. His own horse, a small, delicate creature from the Arabian breed, was brought out as well.

Ahmed began to saddle his horse, but took this time to observe his surroundings. The land was harsh looking, cold and unforgiving as the sea they had just come from. A vast forest lay before them, dripping with the heavy dew, dark, wet trees looming up like great giants. Ahmed shuddered involuntarily, turning his attention to his horse.

Halga, a massive bull of a man, strode past Ahmed, reaching out and ruffling the mane of the smaller Arabian horse. He laughed gruffly as the horse shied away slightly from the Norseman's hand. He spoke to Ahmed in a jovial tone, "Your dog, he is uneasy!"

Ahmed looked down, avoiding any real eye contact, "He is unused to a forest…"

As am I…

Halga shook his head, but didn't reply, moving on with his own horse, a large draft animal. Ahmed looked away, back to the forbidding fringe of dark trees.

He then saw Edgtho, the dark haired tracker, emerge from the tree line, beckoning to the leader of the group. Ahmed's eyes followed the broad shouldered form of Buliwyf, still mystified by the man. One look at him was enough to ensure that he was a warrior, but a cunning, intelligent man as well. A good candidate for chieftainship.

Edgtho leaned down from his saddle, whispering something to Buliwyf. Buliwyf's strong face showed no reaction to the tracker's words. He simply turned, making a quick motion to his men, who had by now all saddled their horses, mounted and were ready to depart.

Ahmed looked to Herger, who had taken his place beside him. Herger seemed willing to be Ahmed's 'mentor' in this land that was strange to him. He spoke in a low voice, "What…what is it?"

Herger raised a hand, "Shh…we'll find out soon enough."

Buliwyf, now mounted on his own horse, sidestepped the animal toward the others, speaking slowly and calmly, "Edgtho was followed on his way back. Arab…" He didn't look at Ahmed as he addressed him, though Ahmed was turning his head toward the trees, "…do not look. Whatever it is…it's still there."

Ahmed quickly looked down, hearing Herger inquire, "Is there only one?"

"Edgtho says he only saw one."

"Do you think it will leave the trees?"

Edgtho joined them, answering Herger, "I am not sure. But we need to get through the forest. We will have to be careful. Where is Rethel?"

"Here, Edgtho," came the reply. An older man, gray haired and scarred, stepped forward, holding his longbow at the ready. This man fascinated Ahmed. He was perhaps the oldest of the group, but still a great warrior. While he wasn't as skilled in hand-to-hand combat, he was still able to fire his bow with deadly accuracy. And the bow he carried was no eastern short-curved bow. It was a solid thing, and Ahmed could only imagine how much strength it took to draw it back.

The tracker nodded to the archer, "I will go in front, you will follow in the rear."

Rethel nodded, then strode away without a word.

Ahmed heard Herger leaning over in his saddle. He turned to meet his face. Herger smiled at him, "Nervous, little brother? You may have a chance to practice with your new blade!"

Ahmed winced slightly as the heavy sword shifted on his back, "I am no Northman…how can I fight with a northern blade?"

Herger shrugged, "Like any other blade. Form doesn't matter. How many enemies you kill does."

Buliwyf had given the signal to move out, and Ahmed found himself near the rear, slightly in front of Rethel and next to Weath, a youthful red-haired warrior. Ahmed didn't speak. No one spoke or made a sound. And they didn't look at the canopy of trees, even though, by watching the shadows on the ground next to them, Ahmed could tell…

They were being followed.

They halted toward midday, forming a circle with their horses and making a meager meal of their rations. Ahmed's stomach had never settled well with the food these men ate. It was different from his normal diet, but he was slowly growing used to the heavy meat and coarse bread.

He sat, holding the new blade before him. He didn't even dare to draw it, he was so afraid of it. He had never considered himself a warrior. Oh, he had some skill in swordsmanship, but that was with a curved blade.

He was jerked from his reverie as a blood-curdling scream rent the damp air, followed by snarls and shouts. He leaped up, looking about wildly. Outside the ring of horses, he saw three of the men, Roneth, Halga and Ragnar, struggling wildly with something. Pushing his way through to them as the rest of the men made their way to see, he got a better look.

Halga had his arm around the waist of a figure as Ragnar and Roneth kept tight hold of its arms and legs. It was growling madly, spitting and hissing like an animal. Ahmed saw Buliwyf looking coolly at the figure. It went still, glaring back at Buliwyf.

Then Ahmed was able to get a better look at it.

It was a wild looking person, a long mane of pale blonde, almost white hair streaked with slime falling in disarray over broadly built shoulders, two blazing eyes of a startling pale blue staring out at them. It was a strongly built creature, broad shoulders and supple, rigid muscles. It was dressed in what looked like animal pelts, a string of animal gut serving as a belt, and the pale skin was covered in old or new scars from exposure.

But he had to look closer to realize that this creature was a girl, surely no older than nineteen or twenty years.

Buliwyf examined the figure, which was still glaring balefully at him. He spoke slowly and calmly, "Tell me, maiden…why were you following us?"

The girl bared her teeth, which, to Ahmed's horror, were strangely filed. She spat at Buliwyf's feet, snarling out something that resembled broken Norse, something so disjointed that Ahmed, still newly fluent in the language, had trouble understanding it.

Halga, still holding onto the girl, squeezed slightly, causing her to choke. She wriggled, then growled out something else. This time Ahmed caught it.

"Helldogs! Let me go! I only wanted…horse!"

Buliwyf tilted his head slightly, watching the struggling girl, "What are you called?"

She went still, narrowing her eyes.

"Skade…my name…Skade."

Herger made a strange gesture. Ahmed whispered to him, "What does that mean?"

"Her name means death," Herger whispered back, making the gesture again. He looked back to the girl, "She must be out of her head."

Ahmed could believe that. The girl certainly looked insane.

"Why did you want the horse?" asked Buliwyf, his face as emotionless as his voice.

Skade hissed at him, lips drawn back again.

"Why are you here?"

"We come on an errand to serve the lord of this land," Buliwyf answered, his hand resting lightly on his sword hilt.

Skade spat out in bitter scorn, "Pah! Hrothgar the fool, you mean? He's mad, you know!"

Buliwyf was not impressed with her, "I advise you to speak better of your lord."

"Not my lord!" Skade growled back, and Ahmed noticed that her words were fluent. Or perhaps he was simply learning more of the language. "I follow my own law!"

Buliwyf looked the maid up and down. He could believe easily that she fended for herself. She looked as wild as any mountain deer and as fierce as any bear. But also, she looked as mad as she looked wild.

"Skade…it is not your real name, is it?"

The girl withdrew her tongue from her teeth, eyes narrowing, "It is the name I gave myself! I have no other name."

A few quizzical looks from the men. This girl was without a doubt mad. The long scar down the side of her face, which Ahmed just now noticed as the irregular color of the skin caught a shadow, gave testimony to some horrible accident. Perhaps something that had damaged her head deeply. He also saw many marks on her body that resembled clawmarks, as if an animal had attacked her and left scars where its claws had shorn through the skin. Her pale eyes caught his gaze. She narrowed the two orbs of blue fire, speaking in a voice filled with contemptuous unconcern, "What do you stare at, dark one? Crawl back to Niflheim!"

Despite the poison on her tongue, this earned a few laughs from the men. Herger stifled a chuckle as he turned away from Ahmed, who was at a loss.

"Let her go, Halga," said Buliwyf, stifling some sort of facial expression, "She poses no true threat. She's mad."

Set free, Skade wriggled away, leaping with seemingly superhuman agility to the trunk of a nearby tree, looking very much like a tree-dwelling creature as she clung to an overhanging branch. "What will you do, fools?"

"We will do as we planned to do," answered Buliwyf, his eyes steady on the maiden's face, "And you…will you continue to live like a beast?"

"If you don't find it honorable, you will find that Hrothgar lives as a rat chased into a hole by a hound! You will all die! Die!" She began to laugh madly, fanglike teeth bared. Ahmed looked aghast at her as the other men avoided her wild eyes. Was this girl like all the other women of this country? Wild, living like animals? He could almost believe it, but the other men seemed slightly surprised by her behavior, though it didn't upset them at all.

Buliwyf didn't seem fazed, his eyes calm. He simply turned to his men, making a signal that they should follow him. To Ahmed's surprise, he made the same signal to the girl. She stopped her mad laughter, tilting her head, "You wish me to follow you?"

"I am not without pity," he said flatly, not even looking at her as he spoke. And with that, he spurred his horse on. The rest of the men followed, and Ahmed did the same, keeping one eye on Skade. She didn't move for a moment, then she dropped lightly down from the tree, walking behind the horses. She was able to keep up well, he noticed, even if the horses were only at a brisk trot. He now noticed the stains of blood blotching the garment of animal skins that she wore.

If this is an omen, it can't be a good one…