The air hung very still and heavy in the dark room, and it filled Frida's nostrils with a stale and nauseating smell, like the moist air had been hovering in there for far too long. It made her eyes prickle slightly and her nose itch, and the smoldering fire that crackled slowly under a strange fireplace that sent the smoke up into a long shallow hole in the earth at the foot of the mountain had a vein pounding achingly at her right temple, earning for her to already long for the air outside, even though that too tasted burned.
She longed for water or some ale, but the strange red-haired man had not yet offered them anything.
She let her eyes roam back to his flaming head, and she watched him as he opened a small wooden chest, pulling an old looking roll of parchment out, looking at it for a few blinks with the eye, before turning around to join the Northmen and Frida at his round wooden table.
Only she, Floki, Faxe, Torulf and Herjulf had entered the redhead's small house under the mountain, while the few others waited outside.
After their rather tense first encounter, Frida had managed to convince the Vikings that the man meant them no harm.
She had understood his language as much as to know that he was a Gaelic monk who had come to this Isle, which was known between the monks as Thule, with his father when he was a child. And they had made a small place for themselves to live, but it was harder than they had expected. And then he had told them that he had a map.
An illustration, a drawing of where this Isle was placed in the world. But some of the Northmen were skeptical.
They did not believe the redhead still, thinking that he would lure them into some sort of trap.
But the red-haired man was alone.
The other monk that he had been living with had died some time ago, that's what he had told them, but Frida did not understand the reason for it. She thought he had said something with running earth of fire, but that did not make any sense, so she thought she might have misheard him.
The red-haired man whose name was Egan walked slowly over to place the piece of parchment on the wooden table close to Floki.
Frida curled her lips a little as she bent forward to get a better look at the roll of thick parchment.
She had explained to Egan that Floki was their leader, earning for him to be very cautious of Floki all of the time, looking at him when he spoke even though it was only Frida who could understand him.
As Egan started loosening the small leather strap that held the roll together, Frida let her eyes roam to his face.
He had very carved features, like he was made of wood, and over the pale skin of his edgy face small red dots were spread heavily about, causing him to look sunburnt over his pointy nose. His eyes were green like the moss outside, and even his eyelashes were red as flames like his wild hair.
Frida stared in awe as Egan slowly folded out the piece of parchment, revealing a gorgeously painted image of a giant blue mass with small brown forms and edges. They were different lands.
To the far East a great amount of isles was placed, and Frida narrowed her eyes to see the scripture that was written over it, but she could not comprehend it.
Egan pointed his thin finger to the same isles that Frida had been looking at, and he told them that the largest isles was England. Frida stared at it with widened eyes.
That was England?
It seemed so little and firm on the painting, so unreal and far from her memories of it, as if it was just a small spot on a large blue canvas. It did not show the kingdoms or their quarrels, only the edges of the scattered lands.
So this was a map.
All eyes followed Egan's finger over the thick parchment as it traveled over the map, a dry sound prevailing in the quiet room. You could barely hear the other Northmen outside, the walls were thick like those of a dungeon.
"This," Egan breathed in a slow voice, "is my old land."
His dirty fingernail was pointed to a smaller island next to England, and Frida narrowed her eyes at it, sensing how Faxe too bent closer over the table next to her to get yet a better view of the illustration.
"I wonder if Ragnar and Eysteinn made it to England by now," Faxe shared in a short breath, earning for all eyes to turn to him.
Frida noticed Floki squinting his eyes at Faxe before snorting, and she could see that this was a question that had filled his mind too. A quick image of Lagertha and Ragnar embarking on English ground flashed by for Frida's eyes, and she bit her lower lip.
What if they had not?
She shook her head as to shake out the fears that started to gnaw in the back of her skull, and let her eyes roam back to Egan. His eyes were questioning, awaiting, and she quickly sent him a nod and an apologizing smile to let him know he could continue.
"Where we are," Egan continued in a hesitant tone while tracing his finger North over the map, "is here."
His finger stopped at a small island surrounded by blue at the farest Northeastern corner of the map, and all of the Northmen bent forward to see the isle better.
Frida sighed out when she noticed the distance that lay between this isle and the rest of the brown spots of lands of the map.
They really were at the edge of the world. This isle, the Isle of Thule, was so far away from everything else on the map, it seemed to be the most distanced place known in the world, and she could sense how tension spread through the rest of the Vikings around the table as they too comprehended how far of a distance they had come, if they really were here at the end of the world.
"Where is Kattegat compared to this?" Floki's voice suddenly broke through the silence, and Frida soon locked her eyes with him, as Egan asked her what he had said.
She could see fear shining from his dark embers, but she knew that she felt it too. The same fear that ran through Floki's veins at the moment ran through hers.
What if they had gone so far that they never were to return again?
What if they had reached the end of the world to never leave?
What if they were trapped here, like Egan?
She gulped down hard and blinked a couple of times before she could clear her mind of all the troubling questions that Floki seemed to spire in her.
What if Floki's fear had come true?
What if they had gone beyond the edges of the Midgård serpent?
A hand over her arm had her shaking her head lightly, Faxe causing her to slip back to reality before she noticed that all eyes were on her. She felt her breath getting caught in her throat.
She cleared her throat before asking: "You know of Kattegat?"
The red-haired Egan carved his forehead as his eyes turned to the map once more. "Kattegat?" he tried out in his peculiar language, his eyes roaming over the parchment in quick notions.
He shook his head. "No, I have not heard of it before."
Frida felt her heart sinking in her chest. That was not a good sign.
She translated Egan's words slowly, but she could see the panic in Floki's eyes when he comprehended the redhead's answer.
Frida felt Egan's eyes staring at her as Floki asked another question.
"Tell him they call us Northmen. Has he heard of the North?"
When Frida translated Floki's words into Egan's throaty language, the redhead suddenly took a step back from the table. His eyes were widened, and all of the Northmen stared at him in surprise.
His eyes were flickering between them, and Frida noticed his lower lip trembling a little.
"N… North man?" he repeated, this time directly at Frida, and she noticed his eyes traveling down to her painted arm.
She could feel her brows furrowing lightly at him. She had not expected a reaction like that.
She could hear Torulf chuckling a little under his beard. Frida opened her mouth to calm the redhead down, but before she managed to speak, Egan took a quick step forward, speaking directly to Frida in a fearful voice.
"Wotan?"
Frida stared at the man with her mouth hanging open.
Wotan? She had not heard this word before, but just as she turned to Floki to ask him whether he knew what the redhead was talking about, a cold shiver ran down over her spine.
Floki's eyes were burning at the man from his place at the table, his eyes locked on Egan's face and his lips curled into something between a gnarl and a twisted smile, and she was startled when Floki suddenly rose to his feet, earning for the rest around the table to startle in their seats. Floki's lips curled into a wide smile, soon letting a devilish giggle sound into the room.
Before anyone had the time to say anything, Floki snaked his way around the redhead in a swift movement, and Frida let a surprised sigh escape her lips when she suddenly felt him by her side, his hand soon grabbing her arm, pulling it forward for the red-haired man to see.
"Look!" he urged in Norse, his voice seething through his thin lips eagerly as he pulled Egan closer, pointing his finger at Frida's wrist.
Frida quickly realized what Floki was pointing to, and she tilted her head and furrowed her brows when she saw him pointing to the rune that had been painted in-between the snaky roots of her Yggdrasil ink paint on her arm.
It was the Anzus, Odin's rune.
"Wotan?" Floki giggled as Egan stepped closer to inspect Frida's arm. She watched his ruddy face as his eyes widened in realization.
The redhead nodded heavily, and he spread his lips in a wide smile.
Were they talking about Odin?
Egan chuckled breathily. "You have," he smiled at Frida, "Same god as I."
Frida felt a warmth surge through her body as his words sunk in, and she could not help but to look around in the room nervously, once more getting the feeling that someone was watching her.
She let her eyes fall to her wrist, and they roamed for a short moment over the rune of the All-father.
Was Odin watching them?
Frida locked her eyes with Egan's, his light greens shining at her through the thick air of the room, and she smiled.
"Then, maybe he was the one who sent us here."