Their boat had taken surprisingly little damage on their long and storm-filled journey to the isle of Thule, but of course, there were many preparations they needed to make before they were to cross the ocean once more to return home.
They could stay longer. Egan had raised enough cattle on the island to feed them all for a whole year, but they all felt homebound, more and more restless sleeps in the light nights on Thule, and it was starting to take a toll on all of them.
Questions filled all their heads, questions of whether they were to return to the North at all, questions of the storm that had separated them from the rest of the boats, questions of whether those boats had ever gotten to cross the ocean to go to England, or if they had even gotten to float at all.
Egan was helping all of the men out, and while Frida sat in the tall grass of the beach near their boat, occasionally hovering her eyes up from her eager sowing of the small cuts in the sail to look at the men roaming around the boat in front of her.
She felt a slight warmth of hopefulness spire in her core, soothing her limbs lightly, but it was shadowed by a gnawing fear in the back of her skull, a fear of not seeing him again.
So much could have happened to him, to Bjørn, to… Her children.
Her fears had her turning her eyes to the bleak sky above her, and she found herself praying to the gods for their safe return.
She was so carried away by her anguish that she did not even notice Faxe approaching her, but as soon as she felt him sit down beside her, her eyes rolled back to reality.
She blinked a few times before letting them hover to Faxe's handsome face, and she saw him gazing at her with concern in his grayish eyes, and he soon lifted a hand to nudge Frida's arm.
"My queen, are you alright?" he spoke in soft words. His nose was very straight.
Frida nodded her head in a smile. "Yes, of course, I was… I am only worried about our journey home, that is all," she smiled at him in a breath, fear still gnawing at the back of her skull.
"Hm," Faxe nodded, before turning his eyes to the sea, "It's just, I've… I've seen you doing that a couple of times now."
Frida bent slightly forward to raise her brow at him questioningly. "Doing what?"
Faxe furrowed his brows at her, his lips curling at her slightly as if not quite following her words. "You know," he nodded at her, his hands pointing to his eyes. "This."
Faxe rolled his eyes at her, showing their whites only.
A quick image of Floki doing the same thing flashed before her eyes.
Had she done that too?
Frida reached up her hand to cover her cheek, self-conscious all of a sudden. She heard Faxe chuckling under his breath, and she looked at him with confused eyes.
She noticed small pearls of sweat under the line of his hair. It was rather cold outside.
"So," Faxe continued, breaking the awkward silence that had slowly fallen between them, "How will we ever describe the beauty of this place to the people of Kattegat?"
Frida sighed out in a smile and let her eyes fall to the grass below her, its green lush light almost like glowing at her in the bleakness of the sun. She let her eyes fall back to the antlers that rose from the stems of their boat. A smile curled her lips.
"Floki will do it justice," she said.
She could sense Faxe staring at her. A long moment of silence preceded her words, but much was being said between them. Frida could feel Faxe's curiosity burning from inside him, beaming with heat like a slow fire, and she could feel his vigor, his youthfulness, his passion.
Faxe was not done with this place at all.
She had seen it in his eyes every time Egan had shown them the secrets of this isle, every time they had experienced something that was rare to their homeland, every time Frida had translated Egan's words.
She heard Faxe sighing next to her, and she stopped her sowing, looking at him seriously. "The gods will let you return here, Faxe, if that is their will. But we need you to get home safe, I hope you know that."
When Frida saw how Faxe's face twisted in something between embarrassment and honesty, she knew that she had touched something in his heart with her words. She was right.
His eyes were almost apologetic when they turned back to hers, and his shoulders seemed to drop as he nodded at her firmly. "Yes, my queen, I know that Kattegat awaits me."
He rose to his feet and turned his eyes to the boat once more.
"For now," he added in a smug smile before leaving her at the grassy edge of the beach and making his way through the sand in long strides to help the men make the last preparations.
Frida smiled even though she felt something that reminded her of loneliness filling her chest. A song prevailed on her lips as she continued stitching the small cuts of the heavy sail, a lonely song that she had only heard once or twice before. However, the words came to her easily, as if it had been with her ever since she heard it for the first time:
"Little child, you're on your way to slumber land.
Suddenly, you meet a strange man.
He brings you along, over across the waters deep,
until you reach a foreign beach.
Like in the old songs,
is what you long.
Here are good elves and wicked trolls,
you want more.
As the light breaks through,
It's like home."
Without Frida noticing, the rest of the group listened to her lonely voice that stretched itself over to them on the beach, and they worked while hearing its story, all of them suddenly deep in thought. Egan especially was very attentive.
"The beautiful house high up on a hill,
only the narrow path proceeds the skill.
A powerful stroke of the vulture's wings,
dead rats are plentiful kings.
Like in the old songs,
is what you long.
All is fed and colors of feathers restore,
you want more.
As the light breaks through,
It's like home."
Frida thought that she could feel the distance between her and Ragnar, the long journey that she knew separated them over the deep sea.
It carved a hole in her chest and made her feel vulnerable. She could not wait to feel his eyes on her again.
"The sweet wine has overthrown the boy,
he gathers tears in a golden joy.
A treasure buried in a great hole,
wherein even the thief fell down on his drunken scroll.
Like in the old songs,
is what you long.
A sinful soul flew away but here remains his gore,
you want more.
As the light breaks through,
It's like home."
Frida was done with the sail just around the time the men were done preparing the boat. Food and furs had been piled up at the stems, and the remaining shields had been placed properly again around the railing.
When Frida made her way down to the boat, a sudden cry had her jumping on her feet in surprise. Egan's voice soon sounded in astonishment.
"What is this bird?!"
All of the Vikings turned their eyes to the redhead, and a nervous chuckle was soon heard from Floki. Floki pointed to the bird cage and looked at him questioningly.
"This?" he giggled, and Frida soon followed Egan's astonished stare too, her eyes soon roaming to the bird cage.
She gazed at the black eyes of the raven sitting inside the cage for a short moment before she heard Egan's excited voice again.
"Frida, you tell me, what is the name of this bird?"
Frida furrowed her brows as a wide smile spread over her lips. Several of the Northmen started chuckling under their beards too now as they understood what was going on.
"The bird?" she smiled, "We call it a raven."*
Egan widened his eyes only to let them fall back to the raven. "Oh, I see," he sighed as he took a couple of steps around the cage to see it properly.
"Raven," he repeated carefully, clasping his hands together excitedly over his gray woolen shirt.
She heard Faxe laughing.
Floki lifted the cage to make it easier for Egan to see it, and the raven spread its wings confusedly as the cage moved, causing another sigh to sound from Egan's lips. Frida saw how Floki's eyes burned like fires.
The two men, the tall leather-armored man and the short red-haired one looked at each other for a short while, before Egan whispered: "Raven-Floki. May you live as long as you want, but not want as long as you live."
Frida stared in silence as the words left his mouth, words of goodbye but also words of recognition, and it took her a while to notice how all eyes had turned to her.
She shook her head quickly, nodding before she translated. She felt something warm in her heart, before they said their goodbyes.
It was strange looking back at the isle as the boat distanced itself rapidly from the emerald green isle of mountains, the isle of Thule, seeing Egan's sole figure standing there, waving them off for a good and safe journey home.
His flaming red hair was visible for a while, but it soon disappeared in the immersion of green and black, and the island appeared small and edgy with all its pointy mountains reaching into the bleak summer sky.
Frida felt relieved somehow to have left the island, and it was not long before she turned her eyes to the dark ocean that stretched itself out in front of them, holding the rosy stone of her necklace in a tight clasp between her fingers.
She wished for them to return home safely, even though their numbers were few.
They had to.
* Inspired by the song "Når lyset bryder frem" by the Danish artist Sebastian. The lyrics remind me of the stories from the sagas, so I thought it very appropriate here.
* Raven: in Danish we say "ravn" – kinda like saying "Raul" but with an 'n' at the end, and a very throaty 'r' at the beginning.
