A temporary campsite was set up further into the woods. Tents were erected, situated in a way that had Olaf's tent, bigger and more spacious than the rest, residing in the middle. During the evening meal, he called a meeting inside his tent. Only a select few were permitted to attend and they were only those that were inside Olaf's circle of trust, including the priest and the priest's two assistants who stood quietly among them.

'Twas there where Thrud rolled out a map of Midgard on the floor, the parchment brownish with age and sporting cuts and tears that told of past use. Olaf observed the drawings with appreciation. They were more than good and obviously the person who made it held some artistic skill.

"This is a good map," he commented idly.

Thrud ran her fingers over delicate thin mountains and he watched a quiet melancholy enveloped her face.

"It's not mine."

The sadness on her face vanished and she pointed towards the left section of the map. "We are here." She slid her finger through some trees till it stopped on a drawing of a village situated at the ocean's edge. "Over here is the village of Fiskr. Last I heard, the jarl's only son, Alvid, has taken over leadership. I met him briefly during my travels but that was a long time ago. I cannot say what kind of man he is now, but from my experience he was an intelligent boy, good with his words, unlike his father. Out of all the jarls in Midgard, I'd say start by making friends with him first."

Olaf stroked his beard. "He will support my cause?"

"No," she replied bluntly and leaned in. "I am not thinking about the mission. Olaf, you must understand. We have arrived during the worst time imaginable. Winter in Midgard can be deadly without proper shelter and food."

Esben tsked, "So what you are saying is that we should beg to be let in? We have almost forty men. Why should we not take this village for ourselves?"

"Because it will not be godly!" Father Tybalt cut in furiously, the old man's face flushed red.

"We are not 'godly' men, priest," Esben sneered and turned to Olaf. "My lord, if we take over the village, news will spread of our victory. The first thing our enemies will know about us is of our strength. Not of our 'godliness'."

"That wouldn't be... such a good idea," a quiet, timid voice spoke out.

A collective of heads turned to look upon a woman; the other assistant of the priest. A nun.

With all eyes on her, Olaf would expect the nun to be nervous yet he was mildly impressed when she stood up straighter and stared right back at them with an unyielding gaze.

"Never mind her lord, she does not know her place." Father Tybalt faltered when Olaf raised his hand.

"It is alright." He gestured at the nun. "Tell me..."

"Edith," the nun answered quickly.

"Edith. Tell me, Edith, why would sacking the village not be a good idea. It is a sound move and I understand in the eyes of Saxons it is brutish and cruel yet to our people, it will be a sign of strength. Not doing so shows we are weak."

"I hear you, lord," she began slowly and he appreciated her effort not to sound argumentative. "But from what I understand, the sole reason we have come to Midgard is to spread the word of our Father. I believe our first impression as His children should be one of peace. Not war."

"And what of the ones who do try to fight us?" Olaf inquired. Hesitance flickered across her face and he knew he got her there. He admired her idealism but things were never as easy as one thinks. "There is never peace without bloodshed."

"If conflict cannot be avoided then we mustn't think of them as our enemies. 'Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.' They reject God because they do not know Him. It will be our responsibility to educate the ignorant-"

"With the end of my blade," Esben cut in with a chuckle, rousing a few laughs around the men.

"Make sure not to poke yourself too hard, then," Edith quipped without missing a beat.

Thrud barked out a laugh while Esben's face went red.

"Why you little-"

"Silence!" Olaf bellowed and the whole room went quiet. When he was sure all eyes were on him he said, "Thank you, Sister, for your thoughts. I will take them into consideration when planning our next move. As for the rest of you, get some rest. it will be a long day tomorrow."

The men began filing out of the room when Esben says in a loud deep voice, "Olaf!"

Everyone takes pause, wondering what the shipmaster had to say.

"Are we going to ignore them?" was all he asked, a bitter mockery underlining his tone.

"Ignore who?" Olaf's face is one of steel although underneath he knows exactly who Esben is referring to.

"The gods." Esben waved around the room. "They have sent the World Serpent upon us as a warning. They know your mission and they are angry! They will kill us all if we continue to follow your cause."

"They will do nothing!" Father Tybalt said. "There is only one true God and He will protect his children."

"Shut up, priest," Esben snarled and turned his attention back on Olaf. "You can get on your knees and pray and play with your balls while you do it but it will not save anyone from Odin's wrath."

A murmur swept around the tent. Olaf didn't know whether it was in agreement or not. It seemed to spurn Esben on, though.

"Why should we die for you? For your god? Are we not still men of our land?" He questioned this to the crowd around them. "Do we not still follow our ancestors? Why let the gods punish us? The gods will judge the traitors. Not us!"

Now Olaf could hear and see some of the men nod along to what Esben was preaching.

A loud thud silenced them all.

Thrud's war hammer rested with its long handle sticking up into the air. Olaf said nothing as the woman crossed the space between her and Esben. Standing next to her made the man look small. Puny.

"You speak for the gods now, Esben?" she said, her voice dangerously low.

Esben appeared at a loss for words and from the reflection of the firelight, his face shone with sweat. Gone was the bravado of a foolish man who'd spoken so carelessly.

Thrud snatched the back of his head and yanked him in close.

"Do not think for one moment the gods will ever care about you or anyone else other than themselves. You could die today, you could die for them and they won't even notice." A hiss escaped Esben as Thrud tightened her grip around his head. "And the only god who did care is dead."

"Thrud," Olaf intervened when it looked like Esben was near about to piss himself. He didn't do it out of compassion. Esben knew like everyone else not to talk too much about the gods around Thrud. It never failed to make her irritable.

Thrud held onto Esben's head for a little longer before shoving him away and returning to her spot.

Olaf rose and addressed his men. "That is enough for tonight. Get some rest. Esben-" he called to the shipmaster, "- Take stock of our supplies. I want to know how much food we have left."

"Lord," Esben answered bitterly and joined the rest of the men filing out of the room, sending a sideways sneer towards the missionaries when he passed them.

Father Tybalt came up to him and wished him goodnight, as did his two apprentices. Olaf gave Edith a warm parting smile and watched them disappear through the tent flap, leaving only Thrud and himself to remain.

"I like her," Thrud commented. "She's not boring like the others."

Olaf silently agreed but that was the least of his concern at the moment.

"Are you fine?"

Thrud's face hardened. "Yeah," she muttered and turned her focus on the map. "It's you I'm worried about."

"You don't have to worry about me," he replied calmly.

Her eyes flashed with irritation. "Yes, I really do. You realize that most of the men are here because you paid them with coin from your share of the Danegeld and the promise of more wealth if they come with you to Midgard."

"There are men who came for me."

"Few in comparison to the hired soldiers. We should have brought more loyal to your name."

Olaf sighed wearily, his face grim. "I could not leave my wife and our home unprotected. If something were to happen to her, if Alfvine heard news that I have gone to Midgard... I understood the cost of my journey and I took the sacrifice anyways. Do not make me think I have made a mistake, my friend. I'm already beginning to think I've made one already coming back here."

Thrud cocked her head, "What do you mean?"

"You heard what Esben said. It was the World Serpent we saw. Thrud... maybe the gods really are angry with me."

"Olaf," she said as if speaking to a child. "The gods have better things to do with their time than waste it on some pagan saint."

She managed to squeeze a chuckle out of him before he became somber again. He stared into the fire, its flickering flames dancing in his eyes.

"Every time I think I have found my strength, it always slips through my fingers. Is it because, deep inside of me, I don't know who I stand for anymore? I thought coming out here and doing God's work will help me understand my place in this world yet I am left even more confused." A heaviness settled over his shoulders as he asked softly, "Is it fate for me to fail?"

The question hung in the air.

He didn't expect for her to know the answer. Only the Norns or God could tell him.

"You know," Thrud began, "My uncle used to tell me that fate is what you make of it. That there is always a choice and that, that is the only real thing we could call our own."

"Your uncle sounds like a wise man."

"He was."

Thrud paused and cleared her throat. "So, have you decided how we'll approach the village then?"

"I have. Edith's words rang true for me. I don't want to present myself as a conqueror and I think distancing myself from who I used to be will help me with that. When we arrive at Fiskr it will not be with our weapons drawn. With luck, they will hear our situation and provide my men with whatever supplies they can offer until this winter ends. Of course, we will entice them with some gold."

"And even then, what if they won't?" Thrud asks. "The norsemen aren't exactly accepting towards people of your faith."

"That is why we will keep that a secret- for now. I want only ten men to come with us to Fiskr. The rest, including Father Tybalt will stay behind until we work something out with the jarl... maybe we could offer a thrall as a gift, in show of our good nature."

Thrud's brows scrunched together, "Only ten, lord? Isn't that pretty risky? What if things go bad?"

"I won't worry. I'll have you by my side."

She snorts at this.

"Besides," Olaf continues, "I don't want the jarl knowing how many men we have out there in the woods."

Thrud relented with a sigh, "Fine. We've done crazier things. Just, try not to get us all killed?"

"Have faith, my friend."

A peculiar look crossed her face and she smiled at him strangely, as if there was something she knew that he didn't.

"Sleep well, lord," was all she said. She collected the map and headed to the exit.

"Oh, Thrud, one more thing," he called to her before she could leave. "I want Esben to come with us. I don't trust leaving him alone with the men."

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer," she said. "Got it."

She disappeared through the flap and left him to his rest.

The ones travelling to Fiskr gathered outside Olaf's tent early in the morning. Ten men, handpicked by Thrud, were present including Thrud herself. Olaf took note that Esben stood among them as well as Leif the slave, rounding the number in the group to be thirteen.

As they made their way out of camp, Esben was informing him of how much stock they had left when, from out of nowhere, Edith was at Olaf's side, Father Tybalt trailing after her calling her name but the nun ignored him.

"My lord, we weren't informed you were heading to Fiskr already," she said.

"Aye. We will return in a few days time. Will you pray for a safe journey for us, Sister?"

"Yes we certainly will, my lord," Father Tybalt said quickly when he finally caught up to them, sounding a little out of breath. "From our place here, in the safety of this camp."

"No," Edith said firmly, "Forgive my brashness, lord, but our place should be by your side. Midgard must know who you stand with."

"Your presence will only bring trouble, girl," Esben said with a sneer.

Olaf raised a hand to shut Esben off and spoke in kinder words, "It is not that I do not want you there but our supplies are running low and the best chance we have to survive this winter is if we strike a deal with the jarl."

"So you will have us hidden away, like a family's shame." She shook her head. "That is not what we have come out here to do. If you cannot stand in His light now then you will never have the courage to do so again."

Olaf was stunned into silence. He felt the weight of all eyes on him, waiting for him to do something. He was relieved when Leif the slave spoke up, drawing everyone's attention away.

"I think she is right," he declared, having all heads turn towards him. He returned their stares with an easy smile and walked to them in a leisurely pace as if he weren't handcuffed. Thrud stopped his approach with the blunt end of her hammer to his chest, her head cocked and a dry smirk on her face. The thrall raised his hands and smiled even wider. "Let's say we don't tell the jarl about your little friends here. What will happen when they find out? Because eventually, they might. Now, if I were you-"

"You are not," Olaf interrupted.

Leif smiled tightly. "If I were you, I'd rather be seen as an honest man."

Thrud laughed out loud. "Coming from a thief?"

"I am not a thief," Leif corrected her, his expression serious for once. "I was simply borrowing your boat and I would have repaid you back in ten times the silver I borrowed too. Look, all I am saying is that it would be better to be upfront with the truth than let it bite you in the arse later on. And who knows, they might even respect you more because of it."

The group fell into silence as each one of them considered his words. Olaf's eyes flickered towards Edith. She was looking at him eagerly, hope in her own eyes.

Esben cursed and spat at the ground where Leif stood. "The slave will get us all killed and so will she. I will not march into a death sentence."

"That is not for you to decide," Thrud reminded him with a glare and looked to Olaf. He could see the strain in her eyes, telling him that she too didn't want Edith and the priest to come.

"They will join us."

Thrud sighed in exasperation while Edith gave him a firm nod. They waited for a moment while Edith and a grumpy looking Father Tybalt went to fetch their belongings and when they returned they were joined by the tall lanky assistant.

They set off again, Thrud in the lead with the map and Olaf and the others following. A little after they passed by the final tent, Thrud slowed down to walk beside Olaf.

"You said you would try not to get us killed."

"I have made my decision," Olaf replied sternly. "If anything goes wrong, it will be on me."

"The well-being of your men should be your main concern," she muttered and thankfully dropped the subject.

Her feet were beginning to turn numb with each step she took on the snowy ground.

Edith didn't mind; it was only a minor discomfort and a small price to pay for the win she had back at camp.

Father Tybalt on the other hand saw things differently and he was highly vocal about it.

"Bah! Why did you have to open your mouth, girl?" he grumbled, his lips turned so far down you would have thought he had lost the capability to smile. "We could have been back at camp, warming ourselves by the fire yet here we are treading through snow!"

Edith refrained herself from rolling her eyes. She was beginning to understand why the other priests back in Wessex picked Father Tybalt to be the, 'Missionary of the Forsaken Land'."

A great honor, she was sure.

She just managed to drone him out when she caught sight of the slave.

"Edith? Edith, where are you going?" Father Tybalt called after her but she ignored him.

The slave noticed her approach and smiled warmly.

"Have you come to convert me? Sorry to say but I've already dedicated myself to a very beautiful and strong goddess."

Edith shook her head with a small smile. "No, I have not. I came to thank you for what you did back there. You didn't have to."

"I did not." He leaned over her, his face darkening. "I expect you to help me get free of these chains."

She stiffened, a trillion thoughts racing through her mind, most of them chastising her of her stupidity.

He is a thief.

She was startled out of her thoughts when he drew back and laughed. Realization dawned on her and she was too relieved to be angry at his cruel joke. Funny enough, she found herself laughing along with him.

Their laughter died down into chuckles and she wiped at her face. "May I ask you your name, sir?"

"Sir? Well that's the first time somebody's called me that. I am Leif Erikson, son of Erik the Red and grandson to Thorvald Asvaldsson."

Edith raised both her brows. "Edith, daughter of farmers."

Leif chuckled. "So Edith, daughter of farmers, what did you do to be sent here?"

"Nobody sent me. I came on my own free will."

"Why?" he asked with an incredulous expression on his face.

"Why did you try steal the lord's boat?" she snipped back.

"Borrow," he corrected. "And believe it or not, I am an explorer. It's kind of a family tradition, actually."

"Really? Have you discovered many places?"

"Eh..." Leif scratched his ear, the shackles around his wrist clanking noisily. "None yet. But there is this one place I've been yearning to go."

Edith asked where that was and he told her of this merchant, a man named Bjarni Herjolfsson, whom after being blown off course, saw a strange land west of the Green Land.

"Everyone thinks he's crazy," Leif says, "But I think there really may be a whole new world out there just waiting to be discovered and I want to be the one to do it."

Edith nodded her head slowly. "So that's why you tried to steal the boat."

"Borrow."

"But you said your family was in the business of traveling. They must surely have plenty of boats, too, and men to row them."

"That was the plan at first but my da, he's a believer in omens, he takes them very seriously. So one day, he falls off his horse and..." Leif shrugged his shoulders. "He forbade me from going and said if I wanted to go, it would be with my own boat and my own men. Said he wouldn't help me to my death."

"I'm sorry," she offered genuinely. She really did feel bad for his misfortune. "At least you can say you've made your success on your own."

He grinned boyishly. "Exactly."

"So, if you had discovered this land, how were you going to repay all the coin you stole from lord Olaf?"

"Well... I was hoping there would be gold and silver in the ground, being it virgin and all."

"You were going on luck then," she deadpanned.

"Seems like luck doesn't favor me seeing as I am here."

Her reply was cut off short when Esben suddenly appeared, a sour look ever present on his jagged face.

"No talking to the slave, girl," he growled menacingly.

"Don't call him a slave," she threw right back. She raised her chin higher when he stepped into her personal space, towering over her short form. In and instant, Leif inserted himself between them.

"Leave her alone," he warned lowly, surprising Edith to hear how serious he sounded. Where was that easy-going man she was talking to not a minute ago? They were standing so close, almost nose to nose, and Edith tensed, ready to do something if a fight breaks out and she doubts that Esben would care if Leif was still shackled or not.

"Is there a problem?"

The trio turned to see Thrud with her arms crossed and just like that, Edith felt the tension in the air dissipate.

"No," Esben seethed and spat on the ground where Leif stood and left to join the others.

Leif turned to her, back to his regular self. "Are you alright?"

From the corner of her eye, Edith noticed Thrud waving her over. "Yes, thank you," she said, giving him a small, tight smile before heading over to Thrud.

"Yes my lady?" Edith asked.

Thrud's face scrunched up. "Don't call me that. Thrud's fine."

"Oh, yes, sorry my la- Thrud."

The warrior maiden started walking so Edith fell into pace beside her, though she had to quicken her steps in order to keep up with Thrud's long legs.

"I like you, Edith. You are strong, unlike your companions." Thrud looked down at her, catching her eyes. "I need to make sure you are aware of how dangerous it is for you to be here."

Edith kept her face relaxed, making sure not to reveal any emotions. "I am. I heard rumors of what they do to people belonging to the church."

"Then you understand that the only reason you are alive right now is because you are under Olaf's protection."

"I understand and I apologize for my brash behavior. It is not my intention to be a burden to lord Olaf."

"I did not mean it that way. I'm just telling you to be more careful."

There was a kindness in the warrior maiden's eyes, one that Edith was surprised someone like her could posses.

"Thank you but I can handle myself." Edith tried to sound polite but there was an edge to her voice she couldn't quite hide. "I've done it before."

From the corner of her eye she saw Thrud give her a questioning look but Edith marched forward, eager to escape the conversation. She already said too much.

Her hands were shaking when she returned to Father Tybalt and his curate, Doran. She was afraid that they would ask her what was wrong but the priest resumed his complaining as if she had never left. In her attempt to calm herself, she accidentally caught sight of Esben.

Fire and the echoes of terrified screams intruded her mind before she could block it out.

It's not him.

She closed her eyes, wondering for a brief moment what in the world was she doing, and prayed for strength.

She was going to need it.

They traveled on in silence with the only sound being the crunching of their footsteps in the snow. Olaf began to feel the first telltale sign of fatigue creeping over him and when he glanced back at the group, he could see on their faces that they too were beginning to wear out. A short break might do them good but the way the cold seemed to find his skin, even underneath his clothes, made him reconsider. It will be wiser and safer if they took rest at Fiskr, where they can warm up by the fire.

Thrud stopped in her tracks and bellowed, "Stop!"

"What is it?" Father Tybalt began to ask but was quickly silenced by Olaf.

Without the sound of their footsteps, Olaf became aware of how deathly silent the forest was.

A twig snapped somewhere within the trees.

Olaf wrapped his fingers around the handle of his sword, straining his ears to hear something.

He cursed when a man burst from out of nowhere, going straight for them. There was the collective sounds of swords being drawn but the man did not stop.

"Please!" he cried, stumbling through the snow. "Please help us!"

The man almost tripped reaching them but Thrud threw out her arm and the man latched onto her like she was his lifeline. Up close, Olaf saw the man was covered in blood, his eyes unfocused and wild.

"What has happened?" Thrud asked, her voice a controlled calm despite the situation. The man whimpered and continued blubbering nonsense.

"He's mad with fear," Olaf said. That fact mad him uneasy. The man was running away from something... Shouldn't they, too?

"Tell me what happened!" Thrud commanded, her voice cutting through Olaf's thoughts and waking him up like he had just jumped into a winter's lake. He felt fear growing in his heart and he banished it away with disgust.

By some miracle, the man's eyes focused onto Thrud. "Draugrs!" he revealed, "They came out of nowhere. There- there were too many. Please, please, help us!"

Olaf's stomach clenched. If there were draugrs in the area they should avoid them. As much as he wanted to help the unlucky men, he could not afford losing his own.

He was about to voice his opinion when he caught sight of Thrud and the look on her face told him all.

"We don't know how many there are-!" he said but she was already off, running in the direction the man came from. Olaf spat out a curse and turned towards the man and gave him a dagger. "Protect them," he ordered, pointing to Father Tybalt, Edith and the priest's assistant. "They die, you die." He didn't bother to wait for a reply before running after Thrud, yelling behind his back, "Lets go!"

Walking through snow was difficult so running through it was nigh impossible. Olaf barely managed to keep Thrud in his sight while at the same time trying not to trip on his own sword. The sound of screaming and swords clanging alerted him that they were near.

And also the fact Thrud leapt into the air and brought her hammer crashing down on a draugr's head, obliterating it completely.

"Form a wall!" Olaf commanded over the chaos. The men got into position, standing shoulder to shoulder and raised their shields. As one, they encroached upon the draugrs, Thrud at the rear to protect their backside. It seemed the arrival of new warriors caught their twisted interest. Multiple sets of glowing rage-filled orange eyes locked onto them and for a brief moment Olaf froze.

Only for a moment.

"Any man who runs will meet the end of my hammer!" He heard Thrud announce from behind.

The grip he had around his sword tightened and a harsh smile carved across his face. Leave it to her to lighten the mood.

"Forward!"

They moved as one and when the first draugr came at them in a frenzy, they managed to bash it back and slip a sword in between their shields and stab it. They got three before two draugrs broke through their wall with the force of a charging bear. Olaf was knocked to the ground and not a second later he shot his sword up, blocking a deadly blow.

To his relief, Thrud appeared and dispatched the draugr. She helped him up and they both continued the fight. Thankfully, the men they had come to save found their courage and joined the battle and with their forces combined, they slayed the last of the terrible creatures.

Olaf's heart beat too fast for him to relax and he kept looking from draugr to draugr, half expecting for them to get up again.

"My God!" Father Tybalt exclaimed, causing Olaf and the warriors to jump. "Hell is here and demons walk your land freely!"

As if on cue, a lone draugr burst from the trees with a hellish shriek. Thrud reacted instantly and swept her hammer up, knocking its head clean off its shoulders. The head soared into the air and fell right into Father Tybalt's hands. The priest let out an unmanly squeal and dropped it.

"She isn't here and they are not 'demons'," Thrud said, wiping at her bloody nose. She turned to the group they had just saved and pointed at them. "You. Why does the dead run free? Have you not done the rituals to prevent such a thing?"

None answered her at first. Eventually one of them came forward and said, "We could not. These here are our fellow comrades. They were sent out two moons ago to hunt for food. When they did not return we were sent to find them."

"Who sent you?" Olaf asked.

"Jarl Alvid of Fiskr."

Thrud cocked her head. "Why did he sent out a hunting party? I thought the village depended only on fish."

"We did but the sea had frozen solid and so did our river. There was no food to be had."

Olaf tensed and glanced at Thrud and she at him. Aside from shelter, food was part of the reason for their journey to Fiskr. If the village itself was suffering from a sudden food shortage, then they may be in more trouble than he thought.

"We are not hunters," the man continued. "We are fishermen."

A sudden opportunity arose in his mind.

"We may be able to help you. My men know how to hunt."

"You have to talk with the jarl about that."

Olaf gestured with his hand, "Then lead us to him."

"What of the bodies?" one of the fishermen asked.

"They are not the men you knew," Thrud answered. "They no longer need to be buried and it will be dark soon. Would you rather let the cold reunite you with your friends?"

The group of fishermen whispered among themselves and in the end they agreed it was better to leave for Fiskr.

"You believe Alvid will agree to your deal?" Thrud asked as they followed the fishermen through the woods.

"I do. They need food and we need shelter. We both can give each other what we want."

"So you say."

"If he is smart, he will see reason in my offer."

It was a short journey to the village. Olaf has never been to Fiskr so he did not know what to expect but this... this certainly wasn't it. He could not see the village for it was enclosed behind feeble standing fortifications that ended when it reached the frozen river; wattle walls that looked to have been put together in a rush. He doubts the walls are sturdy enough to withstand even a soft winter breeze.

As they drew near, Olaf eyed the various stakes jutting from the ground. Some had dead draugrs impaled on its pole, arrows sticking out of their bodies. The man said the draugrs they fought were men from Fiskr... so who are they?

The guards at the gate pointed arrows at them, a customary greeting for strangers it seems. Luckily for Olaf and his group, the fishermen they saved granted them easy passage. Inside, the village of Fiskr was of a humble sort, nothing spectacular and rather crowded, their houses huddled together with thin walkways left in the middle. One of the fishermen led them through another gate which opened up to the river where there was more space to breath.

Since the village was situated close to the point where river met ocean, the river of Fiskr was massive, spanning a width that could probably fit one more village. And it was all completely frozen.

They followed their guide across a long dock that led out into the river where a group of men were gathered atop the ice. One man was hammering away at the ice with a pick and Olaf realized that they were trying to chip their way to the sleeping river. It was a futile endeavor but the horror of starvation can make any man desperate enough to try.

"Jarl Alvid," their guide called and the man who was currently hammering looked up. Alvid passed the hammer and climbed onto the dock.

"Biorr, you are back. Did you find them?"

"Yes but as you feared, they were already turned. They attacked us and they would have killed us, too, if it weren't for them." Biorr nodded at the group. "They saved us."

Alvid eyed them, a wariness in his eyes and said, "Thank you for saving my men. You have my gratitude. But if you've come for a reward, we have no coin to spare. I can only offer you warm beds for your troubles."

"That's all we ask," Olaf said and decided now was a better time to start the negotiation. "Jarl Alvid, I am Olaf Tryggvason. I have men who can hunt and I hear you need help tracking food. I can offer you their service for free in exchange for housing."

Confirmation flickered in the jarl's eyes. He probably suspected something even before Olaf threw his pitch. A cautious one, he is.

Alvid's voice slipped into a business like tone, "How many men are we talking about?"

"More than what you see with me." Olaf wasn't about to give away their numbers. Not until he has secured something.

"Thank you but I must decline your offer. I have already made a deal with Jarl Haakon concerning food," Alvid said and Olaf did not miss the confused look Biorr sent to the jarl. "Besides, it is not that we cannot hunt for ourselves. It may not be our strongest point but we manage. It is those damn draugrs everywhere. They make it impossible to hunt in these woods."

"Why is there a bunch of draugrs running around?" Thrud asked, catching everyone's attention. "And how is it possible your river is ice? Of all the winters that has passed, I have never seen it freeze."

"I don't know how it is possible, either. This winter came early, took us all by surprise..." Alvid trailed off and squinted at Thrud. "I know you. I remember you. You helped my father slay those krakens that attacked our boats. You and your friend- where is she?"

"We parted ways long ago," Thrud answered, rather snippily. She gestured to Olaf. "I follow him, now."

"Then if he is with you, I will allow your men to find shelter here. It is repayment for what you did for us." Alvid turned to Olaf. "It will be dark soon. Tomorrow you can send a man to fetch the rest of your group. For now, eat with me in my home and we can discuss how your men can help our village get food."

Olaf silently wondered about the deal Alvid claimed he had with this Haakon fellow. He supposed it was better not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

But, there was one thing he should get out of the way first before it can come back and bite him in the arse.

"I am grateful for your hospitality. So that is why I am telling you now that there are Christians in my company." The men moved aside to reveal the trio. "If that bothers you I will hear of it now."

"As slaves?"

"As my teachers and advisers."

Alvid looked surprised for a second. Olaf would be, too.

"That is fine, then. Just make sure they stay out of trouble."

With that said, they walked back into the village and to a longhouse that was surely the biggest one in the area. His men entered the house except for Thrud who veered off path, heading towards the stables. She came back with a sturdy horse in tow.

"Where are you going?"

"There is something I got to do."

"Is that why you are stealing the jarl's horse?"

She laughed and mounted the horse, grabbing a hold of the reins. "I got permission. Expect my return by nightfall."

Olaf's lips tightened. "You are going out there alone?"

"You know I will be fine. It'll take a lot more than a few draugrs to kill me."

He shook his head, amazed at how reckless his friend is. "You are not a god, Thrud," he said, hoping to knock some sense into her.

"Don't say that. You might give me a complex." She grinned and the horse took off in a trot. "I'll be back!" she yelled over her shoulder.

Olaf watched her go and when he could not see her anymore, he sent a quick prayer for her safe return and entered the longhouse, ready to discuss business.