I only own the Chieftesses.
Thank you readers for joining me! I can't promise any set time frame per week that I will have new chapter posted. I have a buffer of 2 stories in my pocket so when I finish newer ones I post the older ones as a kind of my reward system. Happy reading.
Chapter III- Oslo
The dark purple rise of land was now in sight. With the calm waters and a steady wind pushing them into the cove, Oslo was less than half a day's journey. The ship's company had all slept, including Ragnar and was more than ready to disembark, even if it was onto foreign soil. Ragnar at the helm, couldn't help but smile, the very thought of the riches that awaited them back in Escocia after such a humiliating retreat tickled him. It would be their biggest pay off yet.
Rollo sat peacefully on the floor of the ship with his eyes shut and head against its frame, looking at the red vale of the backs of his eyelids. Next to him, Athelstan had finally calmed his tattered nerves and waited patiently as well. Perhaps he was just too uneasy to fidget with Rollo in such close proximity, any man would be. In contrast, Floki couldn't keep still; he seemed to bounce around the ship, back and forth and around again. He finally took a seat on a stool across from Rollo but continued to squirm, tapping his feet and drumming his fingers on his knees.
"Unless you are going to start singing along with that beat I suggest you stop," Rollo said gruffly without opening his eyes.
"Floki!" Ragnar called, "Come keep yourself busy, take the steerboard."
"Thank you," Floki said taking hold of the helm.
"No." Ragnar clapped his friend on the shoulder, "thank you," he replied, grateful for the reprieve from the constant movement.
Drawing nearer to the coast, they could already tell the north was quite different from their home. The shoreline was not sand and small rocks with a sharp incline of wilderness as its backdrop. The coast of Oslo was lined with large rocks that gave way to a soft gradient up into tall pines. Navigating through the small islands would have been perilous for any other boat but with the sail lifted they glided soundlessly without concern. Now relaxed with routing his beloved ship, Floki noticed his fingernail was scraped down to the bed from tracing designs into the steerboard's wooden handle.
"Alright Floki," Rollo called, "bring her in."
Floki looked to his sides, then behind him, then back to Rollo at the front of the ship. "Bring her in? Bring her in where?"
"She will be fine in the shallows, you made her so. Now bring her to dock."
"What dock? Yes, I can get you to the shallows but then you will have quite an interesting time traversing those rocks," Floki protested. Rollo left his position at the front of the boat and walked back to his pilot. "Yes?" Floki asked.
Rollo curled his lips into themselves pushing out his beard. He took a deep breath before speaking. "Take the ship - around that headland - and get her near some sand!" his voice groaned. Floki said nothing in response. A small jetty of smooth rocks crept into view as they rounded the peninsula. The crashing waves would still be an obstacle but at least there were no hazardous rocks to contend with. "Here!" Ragnar called back to Floki. The boat continued to glide, "Floki, anchor her here!" he called again.
"Yes, I'm doing it," Floki finally replied though the boat continued to drift.
"Floki!" Rollo roared a moment later.
"Yes, yes I am doing it!" Floki moaned dropping the anchor.
A sandy path funneled from the beach and thinned up into the wilderness. In an almost single file line the company shuffled down the slender footpath, their joints stiff from the journey.
"Is something the matter, Floki?" Ragnar whispered catching up to his flank. The dense brush slapped his thighs as they walked side by side.
"Nothing is the matter," Floki said his eyes absorbed on the action of his footfall. Ragnar lowered his head in order to see Floki's eyes. He raised his glance to meet Ragnar's. "Not a thing, my friend," Floki reassured with a smile. Casually changing the subject Floki said, "Look," pointing to a wooden sign just before a clearing not sixty yards ahead. As they drew near they could now make out that the symbol on the sign was, - II -
"That must be it," Rollo breathed over their shoulders trying to get a better look. The town was like any other Scandinavian village they had seen before with the exception of the immense structure rising from the hill beyond the houses. The building was Norse; there was no doubting that but instead of heavy supports and a single pitched roof this palace was constructed of many levels and teamed with elegant buttresses. As the company drew nearer the magnitude of the hall could be fully absorbed. The beams were not merely stagnant pillars of wood but elegant, sweeping timbers that had been twisted, bent and carved. Each gable was adorned with a decorative wooden carving under each of its peaks.
The town looked as if it was preparing for a festival, there were colored ribbons hanging in the trees and an unseen musician playing a stringed instrument somewhere near by. The doors and windows of each home were left wide open; the same small symbol they had seen on the sign was carved above each doorframe.
As in any village, the arrival of new persons is usually met with curiosity and reluctant wonder. Though in Oslo, the townsfolk wasted no time in making their newcomers feel welcome. Throngs of people with smiling faces greeted the strangers without apprehension. Placing flowered wreaths around their necks, reaching out to touch or hold their hands, giving them glasses of water to drink. Small children tugged at the tails of Rollo's cloak whilst the women placed wildflowers in Lagertha's blond braids and led her by the arm; children zigzagged back and forth across the path in front of them.
"What were you so worried about?" Ragnar asked Floki who was jerking his arms away from the small, clutching hands of the children.
They made their way closer to the citadel, "Where are the rest of the men?" Lagertha asked Ragnar quietly looking about.
"Our men are here!" chirped a young woman. "They do not sail." It was not unusual to see a small town mostly consisting of women because their men were frequently out to sea. However, the town of Oslo was drastically unbalanced, the ratio appeared to be three or four women to each single man.
Upon entering the great hall the over zealous townspeople slowly dissipated back into the streets and the Vikings were left to marvel at the massive room before them. The interior was reminiscent of its façade, vaulted ceilings adorned with carving and beautiful woods. Within moments robed servants approached the waiting visitors, gentle expressions on their faces; a tall, slender woman led the way.
"Guests," she said softly. The company was still in muted astonishment from the greeting they had received that was in direct contrast to what they expected to find.
"I am Ragnar Lothbrok, and this is…."
"We know," the woman interjected.
"We have come to see the Cheifte…" he began.
"Yes, we have drawn baths for you and your people, there is also fresh clothing for you to change into before dinner," she said turning away impatiently. Rollo's brow unfurrowed and his stomach ached at the mention of food.
"How did you know we were coming?" Lagertha asked, her hand still gripping the sword at her side.
The woman continued to glide away from them, back across the room. "One should always be prepared for visitors," she said motioning to her factions with a wave of her slim, pale hand. "Come."
The Vikings were shown to their own separate quarters to wash and prepare themselves for dinner. The tall woman that greeted them upon arrival instructed Ragnar and Rollo to follow her. Through a maze of halls and passages they were led to what seemed like the very rear of the great building or possibly into the side of the hill. Reaching a grand door at the end of a narrow hallway, the woman told them to wait where they were as she disappeared behind it.
"This does not feel right, Ragnar," Rollo whispered. Both men continued to stare at the door for several long moments.
"Do you not trust me?" Ragnar questioned.
"Not at this moment, I do not," Rollo answered just as the large door began to open again. It was their guide gesturing for them to enter. "After you," Rollo insisted.
Within the chamber, it was clear they were no longer within the grand hall. A hallow, domed cavern had been carved into the rock face on the side of the hill, a single skylight shown through the vault painting everything in a shade of blue. In the center of the chilled hollow was a hot spring that was filling the air with a sweet vapor.
Ragnar and Rollo again stood side by side, having never seen anything like what their eyes were taking in at that moment. With the bang of the closing door behind them the men began to see movement from within the spring but dared not move. Rollo's hand shot to the dagger handle at his side. Simultaneously, two figures slowly immerged from the steaming water though through the haze the silhouette of their shapes was all that could be seen.
"Lothbrok," breathed a female's voice from somewhere within the mist sending an echo bouncing around the chamber. The brothers said nothing. Something had unlatched the skylight above, which drew out the steam and slowly exposed the two figures standing at the edge of the pool. Rollo's grip on his sword loosed when he found himself in the company of two, nude female forms - identical female forms. They were slender and petite compared to the average northerner, though sovereigns their bodies were muscular and taut. Through years of hearing talk of the Chieftesses, Freydis and Frigga of Oslo; it was well known the sisters possessed great beauty but no one had ever mentioned that they were identical twins. "You are Lothbroks, are you not?" The same voice asked. The brothers could now see it had come from the sister on left, Freydis.
"Yes," Rollo answered.
The sisters began to take their first steps towards the men, unconcerned with their exposed state. "So few men are born brave," said Freydis.
"Many become so through trainings and force of discipline," Frigga continued as they weaved their way back and forth across each other's paths. As the sisters drew closer, the men could now see that Frigga's skin was marked with intricate black designs more so than her sister's. Mesmerized by these Valkyries that wound ever closer, the brothers kept hold of their tongues.
The sisters were now standing at each of their sides, "Yes, but these men were born with it," Freydis purred into Ragnar's ear as they crisscrossed behind the brothers and back around. Ragnar and Rollo felt as if two snakes were encircling them- two gorgeous, bewitching snakes that were playing with a mouse. Rollo felt himself become excited at the thought. "How else would they be so bold as to come to our home and ask for aid?" Freydis asked as she and her sister walked back to the side of the pool to retrieve their robes. The backs of the sisters were just as beautiful as the fronts, long, dark hair reached down and ended just above their waists.
As they slipped into their robes Rollo quietly let out the breath he had been holding, in turn he received a look from his brother who had become breathless as well. Freydis and Frigga walked back to the men and handed each of them a large dry cloth.
"We shall see you at dinner," Freydis said as more of a command rather than a request. She and her sister made their way to the door behind the brothers.
"Enjoy your baths," Frigga said turning over her shoulder to see the men who were looking right back at them.
The same slam of the door echoed through the cavern leaving the brothers speechless holding their towels. With a sharp inhale it seemed as if Rollo was about to say something but changed his mind and merely looked at the towel in his hands.
"Well Rollo," began Ragnar "would you like to bathe first or shall I?"
What a first impression! In my mind the grand hall's architecture is something more reminiscent of Rivendell from The Hobbit. Hope you enjoyed our first looks at the Chieftesses.