Chapter VII- Irlanda

The echo of Rollo's call faded into the lingering fog above while the company gawked in muted attention. The black water slapped steadily against the sides of the ships; sending an unnatural rhythm rippling through each man. The mist hung over the gray trees lining the banks to the left and right but they were trees nonetheless. They had reached the inlet. Vapor rose from the water before them, swirling around the ship's bow as it carved through the early morning. The breeze began tickling the backs of their ears pushing them further into the cove. There was no sound apart from the current on the keel, no birds, no tide crashing and not a word from the company. Behind them, Ragnar spotted the other boats that had been lost in the haze right where they had been before. The morning sun had finally broken through covering everything with a golden tint until finally the fog cleared and was if it never was. The clearest day was now upon them as the company twisted their heads this way and that taking in the new world.

The waters were calm and still, as it neared noon the men took their first steps onto Irlanda soil. The wilderness around them climbed and climbed still rich and green in the summer months. The company disembarked with cautious footing over the new, fertile land before them. The wind rustled through the highest branches on the surrounding trees shaking free the loose foliage that slowly drifted down around them. After pulling their ships into cover the company maneuvered quietly through the open meadow stretching from the shore. Their vigilant steps were paired with a firm grip on their weapons whilst they began covering the hundred yards or so to the tree line. The grass was lush and emitted a sweet aroma that if one was not careful would find themselves resting upon it.

Suddenly, piercing through the silence an agonizing scream erupted from the rear of the company, what looked to be an arrow had penetrated through a man's neck. Before anyone could react an additional shout exploded from Rollo, another arrow had found its way into his left shoulder, without a second thought he pulled the shaft from his skin. Suddenly it was as if dozens of arrows were raining down on them striking several of their men.

"Shields!" Ragnar shouted until everyone's defenses were raised but the arrows persisted. "Trees!" The company quickly moved as one into the concealment of the trees while supporting the wounded. The arrows continued to crash over their shields as they entered the wood urging them to continue deeper into cover. Their feet slipped over the velvety mosses blanketing the forest floor until finally, the clatter of falling arrows ceased. The company pressed on further into the wilderness until they were confident the attack was behind them. Breathless and wounded the group came upon the largest pine they had ever laid eyes on. Rotten through, the tree must have tumbled to the ground many years ago; it would serve as decent shelter for now.

After reassembling it took Ragnar three attempts to total his wounded, his adrenaline prevented him from simply counting to six. After surveying his men, two of his own including Rollo and three men from Oslo had been hit by arrows.

"Floki," Ragnar summoned pushing the hair back off of his face, "take a runner of your choice and hurry south and around the east side of the grassland, be as quick as you can but be quiet. Come back when you find these men, I will give you more instruction then." Nodding in understanding Floki turned to leave with his runner. "Floki," Ragnar called once more, "do not kill any of them," and just like that the ship builder and runner vanished into the trees.

"Let me help." A voice said from behind, Ragnar turned to see Frigga.

"What has your sister led us into?" Rollo barreled toward them; his blood was now seeping through his tunic.

"If she wanted you dead she would have done it herself." Frigga spouted quickly stopping him cold. "Do you believe she would have sent me to my death along with you?"

"Well she did send your brother," Rollo spat towering over her, "her family loyalties do not seem to run very deep."

"Chieftess," Ragnar intervened, "tend to the wounded and do it quietly." He ushered them to the base of the fallen tree where the other five men waited in anguish. Frigga readied what materials she brought with her from the ship; kneeling on the soft sod she unpacked her satchel. Two injured calves, a neck, two thighs and a shoulder were now under Frigga's care. Removing the flax from her bag she gathered the dried twigs that lay at her knees and arranged them. With an angled rock she struck her flint sending a shower of sparks onto the fibers until small embers grew. Drawing a thin blade from her boot Frigga held it to the flames until the tip glowed red while adding more twigs to the fire. She removed the arrow from each man and instructed him to hold pressure to the shallow wound while the blade was heated. She pressed the red steel into the lesion cauterizing it from the inside wafting the familiar smell of pork fat frying into the air. Though painful it was the only way to stop the bleeding before she covered it with a willow bark extract. Her hands worked swiftly and surely until she reached the poor man with the arrow through his neck. He had already bled out profusely and was gasping for air. Frigga was able to helped slow the hemorrhage and gave him something to ease the pain but she knew there was nothing more she could do for him.

"What is his name?" Frigga asked the man beside them she had just tended to.

"Galti."

"Galti, my name is Frigga. I will try to make you as comfortable as possible." His eyes thanked her for her kindness for he was unable to speak; she knew he was silently accepting of his imminent fate. Kissing his cheek, Frigga could only let her eyes offer some kind of apology, trying with all her might not to lose herself within every emotion racing through the man, she gathered her materials.

Around the other side of the tree Rollo scowled with his eyes squeezed tightly, his hand pressed over his wound. Frigga stood observing the giant of a man who seemed so docile resting against a tree trunk. A vision of him as a boy doing the same thing flashed through her mind though in this vision his face was relaxed and serene.

"What are you waiting for, I have no fear of flame nor steel." He grimaced with his eyes still sealed.

"I can already tell from here you have torn muscles in your shoulder from wrenching out the arrow." His eyes flickered open and focused on her. "I can stop the bleeding if that is all you wish but to restore the damaged tissues will require more," Frigga told him still standing. Rollo did not respond, trying to stop the tingling in his left hand. She knelt beside him with her bag in a moment of silence before he lowered his hand from his shoulder and she began. Her fingers felt their way into the tear of his tunic before ripping it all together exposing the bloody mess. Moments passed as she observed the injury then proceeded to fiddle through her bag for materials.

"What are you doing?" He groaned with impatience.

"Stop talking." She ordered applying her solutions and tinctures. Rollo grimaced and bit down on his lip at the sting and stink of the ointments. "That will prevent bleeding without searing it shut, the tissues need to heal if you want use of your arm." He said nothing while he watched the needle between Frigga's fingers pierce his skin and draw a thread through until the wound was closed. Rollo caught the striking smell of cinnamon he could only guess was coming from her hair as she broke the thread with her teeth. "Or we can cut it off before infection takes. You are welcome to ask Olev what his opinions are," she said upon standing. His green eyes shot to hers in a moment of animosity mixed with gratitude.

"Ragnar!" A voice called from behind them. Floki and his runner were approaching through the trees hurriedly until they were standing next to Ragnar and Lagertha. "We have found them."

"Where?" Ragnar asked.

"A mile around the grassland tucked in the pines. Their archers were high in the trees but have now returned to the camp. They do not appear to be soldiers of any kind."

"How many?"

"A little over a dozen."

"They must be very bold to attack such a large group," Lagertha added.

"They will surely be moving again in search of us," Frigga joined. Rollo followed closely behind until the company was all gathered.

"Which means we must act first." Rollo said now at her side.

"My brother is right," sighed Ragnar trying to rub the frustration from his brow. The dusk was upon them and under the cover of tall trees the darkness seemed to close in at a greater rate. "But you will not be going with them, Rollo." Before the eldest Lothbrok could open his mouth his brother was addressing the rest of the company. "Floki, gather who you can- all that are able. Take them with you and encircle this camp, do what you must. We do not need others knowing of our presence."

Silently, the men and women rallied together unprepared for such an early encounter, their supplies were left on the ships. The abled bodied dispersed in small formations into the dense woods until only the wounded, Frigga, Ragnar and Athelstan remained. Frigga's flames were smothered leaving them in the blackness of this new land. She did what she could for the men's wounds in the dark forest finally settling next to Galti, his hand in hers. Across from them she could tell Rollo's eyes were upon them though she couldn't see into them through the darkness. The aging skin on Galti's hand sent waves of heat and energies into Frigga's that eventually cooled and relaxed, every emotion of his swept over her in an instant. As the forest grew blacker Frigga felt Galti's grip on hers loosen and she knew the gods had taken him to Valhalla. She said nothing for a long while until all the vibrations from his touch dissipated and his soul had left his body.

"Ragnar." Nothing. "Ragnar?" Frigga crooned a little louder, tears welling in her eyes. She tried to stifle them back for fear of Rollo seeing her when the sound of swift footfall approached from their right. Their company had returned with promising news. The small group was easily eliminated and the camp was swept clean along with the surrounding area. The men and women, including the wounded, gathered with one another in reserved revelry, providing Frigga the moment she desired to let the tears stream down her face.

The clouds had opened during the night, showering the land in an even greater darkness. Scouts were sent to the ships to retrieve the remaining supplies and further secure and conceal the vessels before the downpour washed them away. Ragnar insisted on immediate movement under the cover of night though his men were exhausted. Their current position so close to the shore was less than discreet. Galti was laid in the earth for fear a fire's smoke rising over the tree line would expose them. The treacherous journey through a soaking forest at night made their initial experience during the day look like child's play; at least they knew they were heading in the right direction. The air was at least warmer than that of Scandinavia and the rain was a minor hindrance compared to their home's freezing rains. The expedition through the night was slow going though most made it through unscathed by the time the company discovered a formation of desolate caves.

"We shall take our rest here until the sun rises," Ragnar instructed. The wounded were helped over the several boulders obstructing the caves entrance until everyone was inside. The rain cascaded down in front of the opening of the cavern concealing them enough they felt safe to light a small fire. The company washed themselves in the rain that collected within the hollow while Frigga managed the injured by the firelight. Their lesions had looked much better with the help of her ointments, which she reapplied to their clean skin.

"Lagertha Lothbrok, would you please tell Rollo I need to see to his shoulder." Frigga asked finishing her last patient. The cavern was quite large with the fire built towards the rear, Rollo stood near the open mouth of its entrance watching the rain and she did not want to shout to him. The shield maiden sat next to them with her eyes closed.

"No," Lagertha replied. Frigga dared not ask a second time curling her lips in to stop herself. With an exasperated sigh Frigga arranged her materials so they would not be mussed before she walked to Rollo.

"It is your turn," she said from behind him. Upon turning around she noticed the red stain on his shoulder appeared larger. Frigga could feel her blood begin to boil when she ordered him to remove his shirt. He obliged revealing his strong, muscular frame that would have enthralled a woman at any other time, unless it was Frigga of Oslo who was staring at his shoulder.

"You have removed your stitches?" Frigga said in disbelief.

"They itched." Frigga was now fighting back the urge to slap him in the mouth, instead she grabbed him by his wrist and forced him to sit by the fire. Before Frigga consulted her materials she proceeded to rip out the remaining sutures left in his skin purposely ignoring Rollo's cringes. She ripped off the stained sleeve of Rollo's tunic and thoroughly saturated it with a foul smelling liquid.

"What is...AHHH," he roared as she forcefully pressed the cloth into his shoulder. "Nióingr!" The shout bounced around the cavern stirring those from their sleep. Rollo pushed her off of him sending her tumbling to the ground.

"If you want to act like a hardened fool do it on someone else's time. I am only trying to help you, Lothbrok," She spat throwing the cloth in his face. "How many others can say they have done that?" His hand wanted to fly into action and land on her but something inside prevented him from doing so. His eyes dropped to the stained rag in his lap before picking it up and silently holding it out to her. With only a bruised ego Frigga knelt beside her patient as she had before and commenced working on his brawny shoulder. While the company drifted back into slumber, Frigga cleaned away the crusted blood as well as the fresh from around the puncture, continually dipping a cloth in the cool cavern's water.

"Here," she said adding more of the sweet smelling fluid to the torn shirtsleeve. "Do this yourself, it will cleanse anything that is there." Handing him the rag he gingerly but firmly placed it to his shoulder holding back what grimace he could in front of this woman. Again the smell of cinnamon found him as she finished her needlework and left him once more while she returned the materials to her bag. Before he could thank her she was to her feet and gone.

Frigga's hand pushed up the back of her neck and up to her head; feeling only jagged reminisces of her once beautiful long hair. Her wrists burned, one unable to move without the other following. The weight around her neck was cold and inconceivable and all she could see was darkness. Suddenly, Rollo was standing with a blade to her throat the fires of the sun burning within his eyes. This is the end of me...