"What is this place?"
Frida felt her heart pound loudly in her chest as she took another step forward over the soft green moss-like layer that covered the ground beneath her feet. Her eyes turned to Faxe further ahead of her, who was not hesitant in any way of moving forward, but she could not help but to stare at the scenery behind him.
Enormous mountains raked up behind the couple of Northmen in front of her, dark and majestic, against an almost white sky where the sun burned lightly.
She blinked a couple of moments, still trying to adjust to the colors of this land.
They were very strong colors, she had never seen anything this green in her life, and she wondered how far away their boat had actually gone.
It seemed like they had been on the sea for only about a week, but she did not recognize any of the images she came to find here.
This was definitely not England.
Even though they had embarked on land, the air was still very light in her lungs, but it came with a certain taste in her mouth, as if something invisible hovered in its weightlessness. It tastes burned, somehow, and she could not wrap her mind around why.
"It is so green, my eyes will bleed soon," someone groaned behind her, and Frida felt her mouth curl into a small smile, as she walked slowly over the green airy moss, her feet sinking a little every time she took a step.
This was such a mysterious place.
Over to the right she could see more sharp mountains cutting into the sky, carving an edge into Frida's vision, not allowing her to see what was on the other side. To her left, a vast plain area of green fields painted their way for her eyes, only to end up in even more dark mountains, again hindering the small group from seeing what was on the other side.
The air was very quiet, and she felt as if a couple of unfamiliar eyes followed them as they continued along, treading still into the strange land.
It was like a dream, walking here, viewing all this wild nature spire before their eyes, and Frida soon noticed how sharp rocks penetrating the green softness were spread over the lush landscape around them.
"Look!" she heard Floki spit excitedly. "Sheep!"
Every one of the Vikings, including Frida, shot their eyes to the direction Floki was pointing, and several of them gaped in awe. Over by one of the rocks, a rather large herd of sheep were grazing peacefully.
Not one of the small fluffy gray animals had noticed the cautious Vikings that suddenly started to move in on them, silently.
Frida kept her distance and watched as Floki, Faxe, Torulf and the other Vikings made a surprise attack, managing to catch several of them before they all scattered over the greenery. They killed two of them and kept the rest in leashes.
The group soon noticed a small gurgling river that was carved into the green moss to their side, and when they found that it was not saltwater that ran it in, they decided to follow it to see where it would bring them. But as soon as they reached the edge of what seemed like a large forest, they all felt like settling in for the night.
Even though the place seemed largely safe, they still made a fire between the trees, just in case any of the people living here would spot them. But it was strange, it did not seem like there were many people here.
The silence was so deafening and the nature so undisturbed, Frida could not imagine there being anyone here. If people lived in this land, would they not have made a harbor where she and the rest of the group had closed in with their boat?
The coast seemed so perfectly fit for boats and harboring, she was sure the people would have made homes here. But as much as she wanted to believe that no one was there to face a threat to the small group of survivors these Northmen resembled, Frida still had a sense lingering over her skin of unfamiliar eyes watching her.
A chill ran down her spine as she sat by the bonfire after having eaten their first meal since coming here. She had always enjoyed the taste of lamb, and it was like this particular meat tasted even better. But that was perhaps because she had not eaten anything else but dried fish the last many days.
The group was silent for a while, but when the sun was starting to fall down over the Western mountain ridge, the handsome Northman named Faxe suddenly spoke: "If we circled over the ocean, we might have reached the Northern part of Nordvejen*?"
Frida shot her eyes to Floki, when he giggled devilishly.
He had pulled a fur over his head, inhaling his face in a warm cover, hiding his eyes from the rest of the group. "This is not Nordvejen, " he said with a giggle on his lips, "I am sure."
Frida let her eyes roam back to Faxe who was staring hard at Floki.
"Yeah?" Faxe said with irritation in his tone, "And how can you be certain?"
Floki spat out something between a snarl and a giggle, before laying down with his back over the soft moss, making himself comfortable with a few movements before curling further into his fur.
It was warm enough for them to sleep outside, so they did not bother to put up a tent and chose to sleep outside in the open around the fire. Few words were shared between the members of the small group camped at the edge of the foreign forest, and they all soon silenced into an exhausted sleep.
Before lying down, Frida scooted herself over to Floki and laid herself down next to him. She could not hear him breathing.
During the night, the sheep bound to a large tree close to them were noisy, and Frida's sleep was very restless.
She had a dream where visions of white foxes would stare at her, gapingly, as she jumped over lush green waves. She only awoke when Floki suddenly appeared before her eyes on the field in her dream, staring at her intently through his black circles, but Frida found herself screaming in fear when she saw that his eyes had turned white, his embers gone, making him appear blind as she screamed at him, before his eyes would roll down to stare at her, a devilish curl on his lips soon prevalent.
Frida woke up covered in sweat, and she gasped for air as her eyes flew open.
A quick scan around the camp told her that everyone was still sleeping safely. Everyone except Floki.
Frida felt panic spread in her blood as her eyes quickly roamed over their surroundings without encountering any sight of him. She rose to her feet in a swift movement, and stretched her arms into the air in a quick motion.
Her muscles were sore from their journey, and her mouth felt as dry as sand as she took a couple of steps further into the forest, searching for any sign of Floki.
The air was so different in this land, she could not help but to shoot her eyes from side to side, wondering why she felt so alien here.
But when she let her eyes travel to the treetops, she realized what was wrong.
There were no birds.
Not even a single chirp from a bird was heard, even as she walked deeper into the forest, and she felt the hairs in her neck stand as she tasted the burned taste on her tongue once again. She felt a slight nausea travel to her throat, and she tried to gulp down but her mouth was completely dried out.
A small but determined sound of someone whistling rang for her ears for a mere second, and Frida immediately crouched down on the forest floor, frantically searching for the source of the sound.
When Frida connected her eyes with Floki's circled ones, she sighed out in relief.
She could sense a certain eager light shining from his dark embers, and she furrowed her brows at him when she saw him waving at her. He wanted her to come over.
He put his finger over his lips, signing for her to be quiet. Frida could hear her blood rushing for her ears as she silently slid her way over to the bushes where Floki was hiding, and she grabbed his arm immediately when she reached him, pulling herself close enough to him that she could smell him.
She felt his eyes burning at hers for a short moment, but she kept hers on the ground. He soon snorted at her before turning his eyes to the left side of the bush.
He nodded for her to look too.
Frida carefully crawled closer to the bush, and carefully reached her arm up to pull some of the dark green flowers to the side. Her eyes widened, and her mouth fell open as she viewed what Floki had discovered.
Down a small hill of the green moss field, two houses seemed to be carved out of the mountain side. They grew out of the ground like caves under the earth, with green moss covering their roofs, making it hard to see their edges against the overwhelmingly teal surroundings. Frida narrowed her eyes as she heard Floki breathe out as if he was troubled, when a man suddenly came walking from the other side of the emerald hill.
He was strolling towards the houses casually, his hair flaming red and his beard shaved off. He was wearing a thick gray woolen sweater, and in his hand he was carrying a dead hen.
Frida could hear both her and Floki's heartbeat as they watched him in silence.
They both stared at him as he walked over to grab a knife which he used for slicing the hen's throat. Then he poured the blood into a small bowl on a wood log that was probably his table, before he placed both the chicken and the bowl over at what looked like a square rock, where other things were placed like flowers, bread, and herbs and so, and Frida wrinkled her forehead, tilting her head at the sight in front of her.
Was the man making an offering?
She sensed Floki doing a weird movement in front of his head with his hands, and Frida wondered whether he was thinking the same as her.
Were these people Vikings like them? Were they somewhere completely foreign to them in the North?
"Should we speak to him?" Frida whispered inaudibly, only for Floki to hear, staring intently at his features.
His eyes were burning. "We don't know how many are in there," he breathed silently, nodding slowly at the houses.
Frida stared intently at the man, how he stood in front of the square rock, looking down upon the many, what seemed to be, offerings that lay there. She wished she could see his face.
A sudden thunder crashed over the sky, startling Floki and Frida heavily, and they quickly retreated down into the bushes.
Frida felt the vibrations of the lightning in the air, and she dared to peep her eyes out of the shrubbery once more. She noticed that the man was looking into the sky now, and he had raised his hands.
Frida sighed in awe as rain soon fell from the sky, quickly dissolving their view into humid drops of water, blurring their eyes as they tried to see the foreign man.
When Frida's eyes finally hovered over to the red haired man again, she widened them in fear as she saw him staring right back at her.
She gulped down and quickly bowed her head down under the leaves again. She shut her eyes hard.
"He saw me," Frida breathed in a shaky tremble, her lips already frowning shakily.
Floki hissed out and quickly crouched out from the bushes, leaving her alone in the forest shrubbery. She breathed out.
What had she done?
*Nordvejen: (Norway) The old Danish way of saying Norway – in Old Norse it is 'Norðvegr' which basically means The North Way.