I want to apologize for how long it took to get this damned chapter out. You have no idea how hard of a time it gave me! First there was massive writer's block, then once ideas finally did start coming to me I couldn't seem to get them down into intelligible sentences…No joke, I have four different versions of this chapter on my computer right now because I kept scrapping them and starting over. I'll admit that I'm still not overly thrilled with the final product, but it was the best I could do. And if I fiddle around with it any longer, my brain is going to freaking explode.
And I'll get it out there now – there's no Torstein in this chapter. I wanted to! I wanted to get him in this chapter SO BAD, but in the end, I just couldn't squeeze it in there. But I solemnly swear that he absolutely will be in the next chapter. And there will be interaction with Signe. That is a promise!
Anywho, I hope this chapter doesn't totally blow and I hope you guys aren't mad at me for taking so long (and not giving you a little Torstein-ness yet). I've got a pretty good idea what I'm going to do for the next few chapters, so hopefully I'll be able to get them out quickly. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Vikings.
Chapter Five
A young, round-faced Signe watched, from her perch on the end of her parent's bed as her mother finished the last ties of her jerkin, eyes trained on Gunnhild with something akin to fascination as the woman prepared to go to battle.
Gunnhild was an attractive woman, with her bright blue eyes, fine, feminine facial features, and curly golden hair that tumbled down her back. She was the most beautiful woman in Hedeby in fact…or, at least, in Signe's eyes she was. But there was far more to Gunnhild than just a pretty face. There was muscle on her curvy frame, formed from years of fighting and raiding and training with heavy weaponry. There were scars on her body from past battles, the most noticeable one being a long scar on the side of her neck, where an axe-blade had nearly taken her head off during a territory battle in her youth. Though gentle and kind-hearted in everyday life, there was something about the way she carried herself that plainly stated she was not a helpless woman with no clue how to fend for herself – she was a warrior, and when it came to battle, Gunnhild was nothing short of lethal and ferocious. One should not be fooled by her lovely face and inviting aura – if they were to find themselves faced with her in battle, her axe swinging for their throat was likely the last thing they'd ever see.
"Braid my hair for me?" Gunnhild asked, turning to Signe once she had finished the ties of her jerkin. Signe nodded eagerly in agreement.
As Gunnhild took a seat on the edge of the bed, Signe shifted her legs around so that she sat on her knees, making herself tall enough to be able to look down on her mother's head. Signe combed her fingers through the long, golden hair tumbling down her mother's back to rid of tangles, listened to Gunnhild's quiet sigh of contentment, then set to work.
She first took a horseshoe sized section from Gunnhild's temples to the crown of her head. The section of hair was pushed forward so that it was out of her way, as this hair would be getting braided last. As was their usual routine, Gunnhild raised a helping hand to hold the section of hair for Signe so that it would not accidently get in the way while she worked. Scooching around to her mother's left side, she gently tilted Gunnhild's head so she'd have better access. With the small section of hair left out between her temple and her ear, she separated it in half and began making a small, tightly woven braid just above her ear, adding in tiny pieces of hair to each side so that it lay flat to her head. Once the braid was plaited to just behind her ear, Signe stopped adding hair and braided the rest of the length regularly until she could braid no more. She repeated the process with the other half of the section, creating an identical second braid just above the first.
"What is it like?" She finally asked to break the silence, moving around to Gunnhild's right side so that she could repeat the previous process and make two small braids on the other side of her head.
"What is what like?" Gunnhild asked in return, still holding the top section out of the way while Signe's small hands continued their task.
Signe hesitated to answer as she finished the last of the four side braids, worrying her lower lip with a pensive expression on her youthful face. "Fighting in battle," she finally clarified.
Gunnhild sighed, but did not answer right away. It seemed like she was struggling to think of the least frightening way to describe something so chaotic and gory to her still very young daughter. "Fighting in battle is unlike anything I have ever experienced before. At times it can be exhilarating – after all, there is hardly anything in this world that makes one feel more alive than staring death directly in the eye," she admitted wryly. "But at others…it can be your worst nightmare come to life." Gunnhild paused again, frowning to herself, then shook her head. "Make no mistake, Signe. Battle…changes you."
Signe pondered over that as she shifted back to kneel behind her mother, urging Gunnhild to release the horse-shoe section on the top of her head so she could braid it straight back. Much like she had done with the smaller braids, she made one large plait, adding in hair to either side as she went so that it lay flat to the top of her head. Once she reached Gunnhild's crown, the rest of the section was braided normally. Though no more hair was added in to the three strands, Signe did weave in the plaited tails of the side braids as she came to them so that they would not be left to flap around her mother's face – the way the smaller braids wove throughout the larger one made for a nice effect.
A question came to Signe's mind as she tied the finished braid off with a leather strap, but she bit her tongue, unsure if she should ask it. Finally, after another second or two, it tumbled past her lips. "Do you enjoy killing?"
Gunnhild stiffened, then shifted so that she was facing Signe, peering back at her with the same bright blue eyes that she had passed down to only her daughter and her eldest son. They looked even brighter today, with the dark kohl that her mother wore for battle lining them. "Some do," she told Signe honestly, making a tiny shiver race down the young girl's spine, "but I am not one of them. I never have enjoyed killing, and think it unlikely I ever shall."
"If you do not enjoy killing, why do you fight?" Signe asked in confusion, eyebrows furrowing together into a very serious expression for a girl who was barely seven.
Gunnhild reached over and placed a hand over Signe's. "I fight because I must," she answered seriously. "I fight to protect my home, my husband, my sons…to protect you," she continued pointedly, releasing Signe's hand and smoothing back some of her curly, auburn hair instead. "It is my duty as a wife and as your mother to protect this family from those who mean them harm. I do not enjoy killing, no," Gunnhild reiterated, "but if that is vhat I must do to protect those I love, then so be it."
Signe stared back at her mother, her young mind absorbing the words like a sponge absorbing water. Gunnhild fought to protect her home and loved ones. She didn't necessarily want to kill, but sometimes that was what needed to be done to ensure that the family and the farm remained out of harm's way. Quite suddenly, it was as though a seed had just been planted in Signe's mind. That same determination that was shining clearly in her mother's eyes, that same drive to protect the ones she loved…it was now starting to settle in Signe's own bones. She too wanted to protect her family and protect her home.
With the decision made, Signe straightened up and held her chin higher. "I will come with you to battle then," she said firmly. "I too want to help protect our family."
Gunnhild instantly laughed and reached out to pinch Signe's nose, making the young girl pull away and rub the offended appendage with a frown. "And I would let you," Gunnhild said affectionately, "but I am afraid you are not yet old enough, nor strong enough for battle, my darling. If I took you now, I do believe the Gods would be very angry with me."
Signe frowned at once, then let out a heavy sigh of resignation. She wanted to go with her mother and father, but Gunnhild was right. She was just too young and too small. "When I am grown, I will fight in battles," Signe said resolutely, doing her best to push away her disappointment. "I will be a warrior, just like you and father, and I will protect my family and my home."
Gunnhild grinned and caressed Signe's round cheek, her eyes equal parts proud and adoring. "Of that I have no doubt," she said, before leaning in a bit closer as though about to share a great secret. "It is said that those kissed by fire," Gunnhild told her with a knowing smile, reaching a hand up to tug on one of Signe's fiery, auburn-colored curls, "grow to be fierce warriors."
Signe smiled, feeling encouraged. "And I shall be the fiercest of them all!," she declared with a grin.
OOO
Signe was abruptly pulled out of the dream about her mother by the sound a knock on her door. She blinked a few times to clear the sleep from her eyes, feeling a bit confused for a moment. Signe finally realized what had woken her when another knock echoed through her room, followed by a familiar voice.
"Signe?" It was Hallsteinn. He had stayed over the night before, knowing they would have to leave early this morning and thinking it easier for everyone if he just slept by the hearth for the night instead of returning to his quaint little house. "Are you awake?"
"Yes," she answered, slowly sitting up in bed and running a hand through her sleep mussed hair. "I vill be out soon," Signe then reassured her brother so that he would not come inside. "I just need to dress myself."
"Alright," Hallsteinn said, his voice slightly muffled because of the door separating them. "Try to be quick with it. We haven't much time before we are due to leave." Signe heard Hallsteinn walk away, then the sound of his voice joining in on whatever muffled conversation was taking place between those in the sitting room.
Signe sighed, then threw the covers off and then got out of bed to get dressed. Instead of donning a dress as she normally would have, she pulled on first a thin pair of underpants and an undershirt, then a dark pair of men's travelling trousers and a long, blue colored travelling tunic. Next she pulled on her leather boots, tucking the ends of her trousers into them once they were tied. While she listened to the sounds of her father and brothers moving about the house, broken up here or there by the high pitched voice of Ingelill – she and Valborg had also stayed over so they could all spend one last night together as a family and so they could see Signe and her brothers off this morning – Signe sat down in front of her shield and began braiding her hair, using the large silver knob in the middle as a mirror of sorts.
Without even having to think about it, she immediately began braiding her hair into the same style that her mother had always worn for battle, thinking it only right if she wore it out of respect for her deceased mother. Having done the style on her mother several times in the past – and having always been the go-to person when it came to the family's braiding needs – Signe's practiced hands had no trouble recreating the look on her own auburn colored tresses.
When she finished with her hair, Signe went to retrieve a palm-sized dish with a small, accompanying brush from her bedside table. The dish contained a bit of kohl eye makeup that she had prepared the night before. Signe went to her basin and added a bit of water to the concoction to loosen it up, stirring it with the small brush, then, crouching in front of her shield to use the metal knob for a mirror once more, she carefully lined her eyes with the makeup until the lines were dark and thick. It felt a little strange at first, seeing as she was not accustomed to wearing makeup, but Signe did have to admit that she liked how bright it made her blue eyes look.
The only thing left to do now was put on her armored jerkin and her leather bracers. Setting the kohl to the side, she went to retrieve from its resting place atop her trunk, taking a moment to stare down at the battle armor that had once belonged to her mother before picking it up with gentle hands. Eyeing it reverentially, Signe held it up to look at it for a second longer. Then, sucking in a deep breath, she pulled it on over her tunic and made quick work of the ties.
Once all the ties were fastened and it was secure on her torso, Signe ran a hand over the leather material, instantly feeling something inside her shift. As frightening as it was to know that she would be leaving her father, her home, and everything she had ever known behind to fight in a battle that could very well claim her life, she knew that she was ready. With this battle armor on and that weaponry to wield, she felt like an entirely new person. Signe felt powerful, determined, focused. She was ready to face Jarl Borg and his men. Ready to put herself to the test.
As the first caws of morning birds started to sound through her window, Signe fastened on her leather bracers and then went to collect her things. After slinging her travelling pack over her shoulder and grabbing her axe and shield, she then walked into the sitting room, where she found her brothers and her father, as well as Valborg and Ingelill, all sitting around the table and preparing to eat breakfast. Garik was the first to notice her and his eyebrows raised a tick, causing everyone else to look at her as well. Oleg's expression remained stoic and hard to decipher, while Gunnar and Hallsteinn both smirked. Valborg merely smiled proudly.
"Remarkable," Hallsteinn said, almost sound gob-smacked.
"What is?" Signe asked as she stepped toward them.
"How very much you look like mother in this moment," Gunnar finished for their brother, his smirk turning into a grin. Signe could only beam in response and feel humbled, considering it an honor that they thought she resembled their departed mother.
Signe placed her bag, axe, and shield with her brothers' equipment by the door, then went to sit down between Gunnar and Garik, shooting a glance in her father's direction when she felt his gaze on her. The look in his eye and expression on his aged face was difficult to read, but she met his stare for a steady few moments until he finally looked away. With a small, almost inaudible sigh, Signe dug into her breakfast.
Her father hadn't said much more than two sentences to her since the decision to go to Kattegat had been made. Signe wanted to be mad at him for it, especially since she was on the brink of leaving for only the Gods knew how long, but in the end she just…couldn't. Because she knew her father. He was only behaving this way because the idea of her going into battle with so little experience on her side absolutely terrified him, and the only way he seemed to know how to deal with that was by shutting everyone out and brooding to himself about it. But the fact remained that their time together was limited. And the last thing she wanted to do was leave to fight in a dangerous battle while things weren't quite right between them. If something happened to her, if she ended up falling in battle, she did not want her last moments with her father to be these tense, uncomfortable exchanges – that was not how she wanted him to remember her.
Time seemed to have sped it, because before any of them knew it, breakfast was coming to a close and the sky outside was starting to lighten with the approach of day. As more morning birds joined in on the tweeted chorus taking place in the trees outside, they all knew that the time had come to start saying their goodbyes, though nobody seemed to want to be the first to say it out loud. Finally, Hallsteinn pushed his empty plate away and stood from the table.
"We haven't much time left now," Hallsteinn said, sending a meaningful look toward Signe and the twins. "We should go prepare our horses," he added, nodding as though that decided the matter.
Garik and Gunnar were quick to nod and follow Hallsteinn's lead, but Signe lingered behind and stayed seated at the table. She knew that if she wanted to talk to her father and try to set things right between them before she left, then right now was her last opportunity to do so.
"Signe?" Gunnar asked, lingering just inside the door as Hallsteinn and Garik walked outside, headed in the direction of the stables. "Are you coming?" He asked, looking to her questioningly.
"I shall be along in a moment," she said, giving Gunnar a small nod of acknowledgement. "I wish to speak with father first," she then said. Her father did not look very surprise to hear this. In fact, he seemed like he had expected it.
Gunnar nodded in understanding, then left without another word. Valborg and Ingelill also took that as their cue and hastily – as hastily as a pregnant woman could move, anyway – followed after Hallsteinn and the twins with offers to help them prepare. Valborg ushered Ingelill through the door first, leaning over once she was through to pick up Signe's bag and weaponry. "I shall prepare your horse for you," he said, before giving her an encouraging nod and shutting the door behind him.
The room was deafeningly silent now that it was just Signe and her father. She watched him for a moment, unsure what to say to him now that she had gotten him alone and starting to feel a little uncomfortable because of it. She scrabbled for the right words in her mind as the heavy silence continued to stretch between them. Finally, Signe spoke.
"I know that it frightens you, the thought of me going to war," she said slowly, cautiously, not wanting to say or do anything that might make things worse. "But father, you must understand. I am a warrior," she said firmly. "It is in my blood to be a shieldmaiden. And I have dreamt of the moment I could finally follow in mother's footsteps for as long as I can remember." She paused to suck in a deep breath. "Whether it is this battle, or the next, or the one after that," Signe continued, "at some point or another…this was always going to happen. There was alvays going to be a day where you would see me riding off to war."
Oleg stared at her for a long moment as he thought those words over, then released a long sigh. "I know," he admitted, though he seemed reluctant to do so. "I know," he repeated, this time with resignation.
Encouraged by his lack of argument, Signe continued. "It is you who has alvays encouraged me to listen to the Gods, to trust in whatever plan they have made for me," she reminded him earnestly. "Something awaits me in Kattegat, father. I do not yet know what, but there is something there, something that I feel will change the course of my life." Oleg didn't seem to know how to take the bit of information, looking curious and wary and disturbed all at once. "Father, I am sorry for the fear and worry this causes you, and I am sorry if I hurt you by choosing to go battle when you would rather I did not," she told him sincerely. "But this is the path the Gods have sent me down and this is what I must do. If I did not go, if I did not even try to learn what it is the Gods wish me to…I would never forgive myself for it. Please, understand that. I beg of you," Signe practically pleaded.
Oleg was quiet for a long few seconds, then sighed again. "Signe, my darling daughter…," he said, his tone filled with remorse. "It is I who should be apologizing, not you," Oleg said slowly, shaking his head to himself, looking shamefaced. "I have not behaved admirably this past day. I have let my own fears and selfishness consume me and drive me away when I should have been encouraging and supporting your decision," He looked down at the table and heaved. When he lifted his gaze to hers again, his expression was apologetic and his one eye was filled with guilt. "I have wronged you, and for that I loathe myself entirely. I do not deserve it, but…could you ever find it in your heart to forgive your fool of a father?"
Signe felt relief wash through like a river breaking free through a dam. An apology was the last thing she had expected her from her father, but hearing it now instantly made her feel as though the weight of the world had lifted from her shoulders. With a smile, Signe stood from her seat and hurried to his side, leaning down to wrap her arms around him in a tight hug.
"There is nothing to forgive, father," she reassured him, just glad that they had been able to sort their differences out before she left.
Oleg sighed in relief and stood so he could return her hug, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and hugging her tightly to his broad torso. He stroked her hair until a loud bird outside the window reminded them how little time they had left, then pulled back to look her in the eye, letting his hand fall to her shoulder. "Battle is no matter to take lightly," he reminded her firmly. "Many people will die, and just as many will try to kill you. Whatever happens, never leave your brothers' sight," he instructed sternly, "they vill protect you should you find yourself in trouble. If they tell you do something – anything – you do it," Oleg continued. "If they say fight, fight – if they say run, you run. Do you understand?" He asked, using these last few moments together to squeeze in whatever last-minute instruction he could.
"Yes, father, I understand," she reassured him, nodding quickly.
He nodded, but didn't look very comforted. "And Signe?"
"Yes?"
Her father finally let all of his fear, worry, and vulnerability shine through. "Come home," he told her in a thick voice, his tone filled with emotion as he stroked her hair again. "Come home, beloved daughter."
Signe's throat constricted, making it impossible to speak for a moment. Finally, nodding her head, she managed to say, "I will. By the Gods, I promise that I will."
Oleg nodded, then pressed a kiss to the top of her braided hair and pulled her into his chest for another hug. "Your mother would be so proud," he said quietly, pressing one more kiss against her head before finally releasing her and taking a step backward.
His words made Signe miss her mother so much in that moment that tears rushed to her eyes and it became difficult to breathe. But she knew this was not the time to let her emotions get the better of her. It was nearly daylight and Bjorn had said that the army wouldn't hanging around for much longer once the sun was up – Signe and her brothers would need to be getting a move on if they didn't want to get left behind, which meant she needed to pull herself together and get her head on straight.
As though reading her mind, Oleg nodded to the door then gently steered her in that direction with a hand on her shoulder. "Come, your brothers will be waiting." Signe nodded and let him lead her outside, doing her best to push any lingering thought of her mother to the back of her mind.
When they walked outside, the horses that belonged to herself, Hallsteinn, and the twins were all saddled and waiting to go. Nearby, her brothers were saying goodbye to Valborg and Ingelill, hugging the two and giving a few affectionate pats to the bump that was their soon-to-be-born niece or nephew. Upon seeing Signe and their father, they all stopped and turned a curious look in their direction. When Signe gave a small smile and a nod, her brothers relaxed, looking relieved to know that everything was fine between her and their father. Hallsteinn and the twins quickly moved to say goodbye to their father, so Signe gave them their space and went to say her goodbye's to Valborg and a teary-eyed Ingelill, hugging each of them for a few minutes each and making sure to press a kiss to Ingelill's swollen belly.
"Take care of this little one," she said, straightening up and smiling at them gently.
Valborg smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Of course," he said with a nod. "You take care of yourself. I expect you to be here when my son is born," he added, though his tone and the look in his eyes said so much more. What Valborg was really saying was, I expect you to be here, so don't do anything to get yourself killed.
"I will," Signe reassured her, her tone full of promise. Valborg nodded, but much like Oleg, he did not seem too comforted by her reassurances.
With the last of the hugs shared and the last parting words said, Signe and her brothers all silently pulled themselves up onto their tall horses and situated themselves in their saddles. Oleg, Valborg and Ingelill came to stand nearby, watching with solemn expressions as the four prepared to leave. "Fight hard and fight smart. And protect each other," Valborg said, his expression a bit conflicted. As he was usually the one leading his brothers off to some battle or distant land, he didn't seem overly happy that they were riding off without him this time around – especially so now that Signe was going as well. In fact, if his pregnant wife hadn't been standing arm-in-arm with him right in that moment, Signe thought he might have grabbed his horse and his gear and joined them on their quest.
"Hallsteinn," Oleg said firmly, drawing the attention of his second eldest son, "you are in charge of those three while you are away. And, if need be, I will trust you to speak and make any decisions necessary in my stead."
"Yes, father," Hallsteinn was quick to agree, inclining his head. "We must ride now," he continued, already pulling on his horse's reins as the large beast canted with impatience. "We shall return when the war against Jarl Borg has been won."
"May Odin protect you and guide you on your journey," Oleg said, bowing his head slightly.
With that being said, Hallsteinn whistled and took off down the road, the twins quickly following after him. Signe lingered behind just long enough to let her eyes sweep over her family one last time, then dug her heels into the flanks of her horse with a loud call, making her steed lurch forward.
There was no turning back now. Her journey had officially begun. As Signe caught up with her brothers and quickly rode away from the house, she cast one last look back at the house, feeling in her heart that this would probably be the last time she saw it in a very long while. The battle for Kattegat was not the end of the road for Signe, that much she was completely certain of. No, it was only the start of something much bigger.
Now it was up to Signe to discover what that something was.
Bjorn had not exaggerated when he said that his mother planned to get the army moving as quickly as possible. Barely a quarter of an hour after Signe and her brothers convened with the rest of their comrades just outside of Hedeby, Lady Lagertha gave a quick, inspirational speech and then instructed everyone to start getting mobilized. Nobody wasted any time to gather up all the necessities and begin falling into formation, those on horses forming two lines while those going by foot formed a small cluster behind them to bring up the rear. Signe and Bjorn, both on horseback, opted to ride side-by-side, while her brothers fell into line behind them.
"What?" She asked as they waited for Lady Lagertha and her personal guard to take their position at the head of the caravan, able to feel Bjorn's gaze on her. When she glanced to her right, Bjorn was indeed staring at her with an expression that was difficult to decipher. He seemed a little impressed, a little bemused, and a little cautious all at the same time.
"Nothing," he said quickly, shaking his head a bit, his tone just a little too innocent. "I have just…never seen you look like…" Bjorn trailed off, struggling to search for the right word. "…this," he said, motioning toward her hair and her outfit with a wave of his hand.
Signe quirked a brow as she gave a quick glance down at herself, not entirely sure if his words were meant to complimenting or not. "Like what?"
If she wasn't mistaken, Bjorn's ears were starting to turn red with embarrassment. "Like a woman," Bjorn finally outright said, dropping his voice some so that he wouldn't be overheard.
Signe couldn't help but lift her chin proudly, rather pleased that her friend had finally noticed that she was not the young, adolescent girl he'd met upon first arriving in Hedeby. Even if it had taken four years for him to do so. "Bjorn, if you are attempting to tell me I look good," she said with a cocky smile, "then I vill say thank you for the compliment." Then, she couldn't help but smirk and say, "And you do not look so terrible yourself."
Bjorn flushed and smiled a bit and started like he was going to say something else, but Lagertha and her personal guard took their position at the head of the caravan before he could. With a loud blare of a horn, they were soon on their way.
It was nearly a week's journey to Kattegat from Hedeby, perhaps a few days longer should they move too slowly or the weather prove unfavorable. Give how urgent the situation was, however, moving too slowly was not likely to be a problem. They still did not know if Earl Ragnar and his men had returned from the west, nor had they received any more news about those taking refuge at the farmhouse. There simply was no time to waste if they wanted to help anyone – they needed to get Earl Ragnar's people before Jarl Borg got to them first.
To put it plainly, the journey was fairly rough for everyone. They travelled practically non-stop for the first two days, only taking brief breaks here or there for the foot soldiers and the horses to get a bit of rest before continuing on again. Whether it was rain or shine, they walked for miles on end. Even at night they only stopped long enough for everyone to get a few hours of sleep before they were mobilizing again – luckily for Signe, being on horseback meant she was able to lean against Bjorn as they trotted along and get a few extra hours of sleep while her horse did all of the work.
The third day went by much the same as the first two. They travelled for nearly the entire day, then stopped to rest around mid-afternoon when those travelling by foot looked too exhausted to go any further. Signe was relieved when they stayed put for more than just a few hours this time, glad to be walking around a good long while after riding her horse for so long. She almost started to complain to Bjorn about having a sore rear, but when she remembered that there were others who didn't have a horse and were forced to walk the whole way, she thought it wiser to keep the complaint to herself.
By the time the sun was going down on the fourth day, they were more than halfway to Kattegat. Seeing as they were making such good time, Lagertha saw fit to reward them for their efforts and instructed them to make camp and settle down just before sunset. Signe, achy-bottomed and feeling pretty stiff in her joints, could have sang with relief and kissed Lagertha square on the lips when she announced that they'd be camping out until morning, and that they were free to do whatever they pleased until then.
Signe sighed as she lay on her back next to the fire her brothers had built, eyes staring up at the stars twinkling overhead while her comrades around her laughed, talked, and drank the night away. On the other side of the fire sat Garik and Gunnar, the two reminiscing about a previous battle they had fought in over mugs of ale, recalling impressive warriors or particularly gruesome kills that had forever been imprinted in their minds. Hallsteinn was not present at the moment, having wandered off some time ago without saying where he was going. Signe suspected he was off to charm one of the other shieldmaidens she'd seen him eyeing throughout the course of the trip.
It was odd to think of how far away her father, Valborg, and Ingelill were. She tried to imagine what she would have been doing if she was at home right now instead of camped out under the stars somewhere between Hedeby and Kattegat. Probably fixing a tear in one of her father's shirts, or perhaps playing games or telling stories with Garik and Gunnar as they sat around the dying flames in the hearth. The thought made her feel more than a little homesick, despite the fact that she had three of her brothers currently with her. The feeling was not helped in the slightest when she realized that her father was sitting alone in an empty, quiet house at that very moment, probably wondering where she and her brothers were and whether or not they were alright.
"Here," a voice above her said, pulling her from her troubled thoughts and making her eyes turn up from the fire. Bjorn had just returned with two mugs of ale and was holding one out in offering as he eased down onto the ground next to her.
"Thank you," Signe said, sitting up and accepting the drink. She then raised her mug and said, "Skål."
Bjorn nodded his head and clinked his mug against hers. "Skål," he reciprocated, before they both took large drinks.
Bjorn sighed and bent one knee, resting an elbow atop it comfortingly. "Mother has sent scouts out to survey the area and ride to the nearby villages," he revealed, taking another drink.
"For information on the whereabouts of your father's people?" Signe asked.
"Yes," Bjorn confirmed with a nod. "According to that man," he said, referring to the man who'd told him about the attack on Kattegat, inadvertently setting this entire journey into motion, "the farm my uncle took them to is about a half a day's walk outside of Kattegat. Seeing as we are now separated from Kattegat by only a few more days, we might be stumbling upon that farm quite soon," Bjorn explained.
Signe nodded in understanding, feeling a small jump of excitement in her stomach at the thought of reaching their destination. Bjorn took a drink from his mug and then turned his gaze to the flames of the fire. "It has been so long since I have seen my old home…," Bjorn mused alone, never looking away from the fire. "I wonder how much it will have changed since then," he said, before drinking more ale.
Signe glanced over at him as she toyed with the mug in her hands. "I cannot imagine it will have changed that much," she said reassuringly, to which Bjorn merely grunted and shrugged a shoulder. Signe gazed at him for a long moment, noting the tension in his shoulders and the troubled gleam to his blue eyes. "Are you nervous about being reunited with your father?" She asked in a gentle tone, feeling as though she already knew the answer to her own question.
Bjorn finally tore his gaze from the fire to look at her. He was quiet for so long she began to think he wouldn't answer her, but then he nodded and said, "Yes."
"Why?" She inquired curiously.
Bjorn hesitated, then let loose a long sigh. "What if he resents me for leaving?," he asked anxiously. He closed his eyes for a moment, forehead creasing as he frowned. "I can still clearly remember the look on my father's face when we left Kattegat," Bjorn said, opening his eyes again and looking to her, guilt written all over his face. "He was destroyed, Signe. I have only ever seen him look such a way one other time – when he discovered that my sister Gyda had died." He paused to heave and shake his head. "I am afraid he will not be able to forgive me for leaving Kattegat with my mother. I am afraid I vill return to him after all this time…just to be shunned and cast out."
Signe frowned sympathetically and reached over to place a comforting hand on his back. "You left with your mother so that she vould not be alone, so you could protect her," she reminded him.
"And also because I was angry with him for being disloyal to my mother," Bjorn interjected pointedly.
"Yes, and that," Signe conceded patiently. "Regardless," she continued firmly, "you only did what you thought was right. And if Ragnar Lothbrok is even half as honorable as you, I am sure he understands that." When Bjorn still didn't look convinced, Signe smiled consolingly and scooched closer so she could wrap an arm around his broad back, hugging him to her side. Bjorn leaned into her, accepting the comforting embrace, but continued to stare broodily into the fire. "Your father will forgive you, if he has not done so already," she said with confidence. "In fact, I think he vill be so elated to see you again after all this time that none of what happened will even matter anymore. You are his first born son, Bjorn. He does not resent you," Signe insisted, tightening her arm around him. "He loves you. And he will be nothing short of overjoyed to have you back in his life."
That finally did the trick. She felt the tension seep out of the strong muscles beneath her arm and saw Bjorn visibly relax. He pulled his gaze from the fire to look at her with grateful eyes, his expression far less troubled now. "How do you alvays know exactly what to say to make me feel better?"
Signe smirked and shrugged a shoulder. "Because of my vast intelligence and all-knowing wisdom, of course," she answered with a hint of playful arrogance.
Bjorn snorted. "And, apparently, your modesty," he shot at her sarcastically. Signe just laughed, which made Bjorn laugh as well after a few seconds. When their laughter died down, he smiled down at her with fondness. "Thank you," he said, maneuvering his arm free so he could wrap it around her shoulders. Signe immediately leaned into his side, feeling warm and safe and protected.
"You are welcome," she said in return, lowering her head to rest it on his broad shoulder.
She couldn't help but smile when Bjorn sighed, followed by the weight of his head resting on top of hers. Comfortable silence stretched between them as their conversation lulled, interrupted only by the loud conversation of the increasingly intoxicated twins sitting on the opposite side of the fire. Signe just continued to snuggle into Bjorn's side, far too content to even think about moving. After a few more moments, her eyelids started to droop as sleep started to overtake her relaxed body.
The next morning, Signe and her brothers were enjoying a pleasant breakfast with Bjorn and his mother when they received some very good news. One of the scouts that Lady Lagertha had sent out returned just after the sun came up, riding like his life depended on it and looking rather like he'd just found a mound of gold somewhere. And as it turned out, the information he came bearing very well could have been worth as much as a mound of gold.
"The farmhouse Ragnar Lothbrok's family and people have sought refuge in is near," the scout announce loudly, not even waiting long enough to dismount his horse before eagerly relaying the information. Everyone within hearing distance ceased what they were doing and look to him with surprised eyes, taken aback by this news. Signe stared at the man in surprise as well, then shared a sharp look with Bjorn.
"How far?" Lagertha demanded to know, standing up from her seat in her eagerness.
"If we leave now and move with haste, we can be there in a day!" The scout answered.
The revelation that they were so close to their destination sent a ripple of excitement through the encampment, and soon enough men and women alike were breaking out in enthusiastic cheering. Signe joined in, receiving a few jubilant slaps on the back from her brothers and a wide, eager smile from Bjorn; even Lady Lagertha dropped her normally calm, collected façade to unleash a wide, pleased grin.
But the scout was not finished relaying information yet. He had learned something else while he was out, as well. "There is more!" He said, raising a hand to silence their eager chattering and have everyone looking to him with anticipation. "I spoke to a man in one of the nearby villages and have learned that Earl Ragnar and his men have indeed returned from the west. They are at the farmhouse now, and they are still in search of any who will aid them in their battle against Jarl Borg."
Another wave of excitement passed through the small army, this one even stronger than the first, and without even having to be commanded by Lady Lagertha, there was a great rush to pack up the encampment and be on their way. As everyone started running here or there, rounding up supplies and yanking down tents, Signe said a hasty goodbye to Bjorn, promised she'd find him once they were underway, then followed her brothers back to their own tent so that they could all collect their things and prepare to head out.
It was as if the army had had new life breathed into it. In light of the morning's revelations, they all forgot to feel sore or tired from their long, arduous journey and seemed to catch a much needed second wind. Knowing that they were on the last leg of their journey now, everyone redoubled their efforts moved with a speed and determination that the Gods themselves would have been impressed by. They pushed through the morning and well into the afternoon, stopping for only a few hours around sunset to eat and catch their breaths before moving on again. This time nobody complained about not getting enough rest between marches. Not when the end of their journey was so near.
By the next day, Signe was starting to feel impatient. They had marched all through the night and most of that morning, but still there was no sign of the farmhouse the scout claimed to have located. As they slowly trotted along, everyone looking tired and more than a little worse for wear, Signe glanced up at the overcast sky to judge the time. It was hard to tell since she couldn't see the sun behind the thick grey clouds obscuring it from sight, but if she had to wager a guess, she'd say it had to be getting close to noon by now.
"We should be getting close, no?" She asked, turning a questioningly look on Hallsteinn as he chugged from a skin of water. Bjorn had long since gone to ride at the front of the caravan with his mother, thinking it only appropriate that he be by her side whenever they finally did arrive at the farmhouse. Hallsteinn had since moved up to take his vacated place and ride beside her. "The scout said one day, and one day it has been. Where is it?"
"The scout said we could be there in a day," Hallsteinn reminded her, sounding eerily calm as he too peered up at the sky. "It may be a while longer yet."
"Too much longer and we may not be much of a threat to Jarl Borg," Garik commented, casting a look at the weary foot soldiers travelling behind them. "If we do not stop soon, half our men may be dead before we ever reach a battlefield."
"Let us hope we stop soon, then," Hallsteinn said around a heavy heave.
Signe sighed, feeling impatient and nervous and anxiously excited all at the same time. They were so close now that she could practically smell the smoke from the hearth fires burning in the ever elusive farmhouse they had trekked across the country to find, but it still laid just out of their grasp. The anticipation was starting to kill her. "I cannot stand this wait any longer," she said with a small scowl. "It will drive me to madness."
"Steady, little sister," Hallsteinn said, lifting a brow in her direction. "Save your madness for the battlefield." Signe just looked at him for a moment, not sure how her normally hot-headed, unpredictable brother was being so eerily calm about all of this, before letting out a resigned heave and turning her eyes forward again.
A few hours later, just as Signe grew so impatient that she was about to volunteer to ride ahead and find the damned farmhouse herself, they trekked up to the top of a hill and caught sight of something that nearly had her crying with relief – an old, isolated farmhouse tucked away into the rolling plains of the countryside.
Her heart leapt at the sight, but before Signe could even begin to inquire as to whether this was the same farmhouse they'd been looking for, word quickly travelled back from the front of the caravan that they had indeed arrived. An excited murmur passed through the army and they picked up the pace a little, the sight of the destination giving them the last push of energy they needed to complete this last little portion of their journey. Signe peered intently toward the farmhouse, straining her eyes for some sign of life or movement, and, after a moment, she caught sight of a dark figure running hurriedly toward the house. The figure – whom she could only assume was a man from this distance – disappeared around the side of the wooden farmhouse, only to reappear a few moments later with two more people on either side of him.
"Well, now they know that we are here," Garik stated behind her, also peering at the trio that was watching them approach from afar.
"I do not see any horses," Signe said, letting her eyes scan the property. "Nor many people," she added, frowning with slight concern. She had known that Ragnar Lothbrok's situation was not a very good one, but was it even worse off than she had already gathered? "He may have needed more help than we gathered."
"Then it is good we have come," Hallsteinn said, all of the calmness he'd shown earlier evaporating in an instant as he stared at the farmhouse with barely contained eagerness. "Ragnar Lothbrok should be pleased when he sees how many have come to help him," he said, sounding very much like he hoped that would be the case. Given how much he admired the famous Northman, there was no doubt his sole mission on this trip was to make as good of an impression on the Earl as he could.
As they continued down the trodden trail that led toward the house and steadily drew nearer, one of the three people watching them suddenly broke off from the other two and started toward them, clearly intending to meet them in the road. Signe found herself sharing a look with Hallsteinn, who looked sharply to her before training an intent stare on the man as he came to stand right smack in the middle of the road. The caravan came to a halt as Lagertha raised a hand, signaling for them to stop, and Signe leaned to the side so she could peer around the broad shoulders of the warrior in front of her to get a better look at the man blocking their path. He was tall, though not quite as tall as Bjorn or her brothers, with a toned, muscular form, a thick beard on his attractive face, and a haircut that reminded her a little bit of Hallsteinn's. When Lagertha dismounted her horse and walked toward him, the look that that the two shared and the air of familiarity between them immediately confirmed her suspicions as to who the man was.
"That is him," Hallsteinn murmured next to her, having also determined who the stranger was and looking a bit like he'd just seen Odin himself. "That is Ragnar Lothbrok," he stated, fidgeting eagerly in his seat and practically chomping at the bit to dismount his horse and go introduce himself to the man. He knew better than to do so right then, of course, but Signe had no doubt he'd do it the very first chance he got.
"Easy brother," Gunnar said behind them, a slight teasing to his tone. "No doubt Earl Ragnar has plenty of loyal guards at his beck and call, ready to strike down anyone who makes too sudden a move around him without even giving it a second thought. It vould be a shame to see you meet an early demise because you could not contain your excitement around the man," he warned.
"Shut your mouth, Gunnar," Hallsteinn snapped, shooting him a withering look over his shoulder, "before I shut it for you myself." This only drew two amused, identical sounding snickers from the twins, who often took great pleasure in getting the easily riled Hallsteinn in a mood.
Signe ignored her brothers' banter, instead watching with interest as Bjorn dismounted his horse and began to slowly, cautiously make his way over to where Lady Lagertha and Earl Ragnar were talking. She held her breath as Earl Ragnar's gaze slid to his eldest son, wishing she was closer so that she could see the expression on the man's face a little better. There was a brief moment in time – which felt infinitely longer – where Bjorn and his father stared one another down, and where she feared that Bjorn had been right. That Earl Ragnar resented him for leaving after all. But then, quite suddenly, the Earl stepped forward and pulled Bjorn into a tight embrace. Even with the distance between them, it would have been hard not to see the grin that had stretched across the man's face.
She sighed and relaxed in her saddle, feeling enormously relieved that she had predicted Earl Ragnar's reaction at seeing his first born son again correctly. Though she could imagine that her relief paled in comparison to Bjorn's, who was clutching tightly to his father and hugging him as though he were afraid the man might disappear. She felt overwhelmed with joy for her friend, and could not help the smile that stretched across her own face.
There was a brief conversation had between Earl Ragnar, Lady Lagertha, and Bjorn that Signe could not hear, a bit more hugging shared between the reunited father and son, then she was watching as Bjorn and Earl Ragnar, arms wrapped around each other, turned to head back to the farmhouse. She straightened up with attention and shifted her gaze to Lady Lagertha, who watched the retreating backs of her son and former husband before snapping out of her own thoughts and motioning for the rest of the army to move in.
"Begin making camp!" Lagertha instructed them, trailing after Bjorn and Earl Ragnar as she too headed for the farmhouse.
Signe dug her heels into the flanks of her horse and surged forward with the rest of the caravan, following the winding path that would take them up the hill to the farmhouse. Her eyes strayed to Bjorn more than once, hoping she might be able to catch his eye, but he was far too intent on the quiet, private conversation he and his father were having to pay attention to anything else. She could not blame him – she likely would have been the same way had the roles been reversed.
Bjorn would come and find her when he was ready, she decided. For now, it was only fair of her to leave him be and let him enjoy his reunion with his father. Casting one last look in their direction, she smiled gently at the sight of father and son grinning and talking together, then followed her brothers and comrades toward the place they'd be making camp.
Thoughts?