CHAPTER ELEVEN: TORA

These last weeks my world has become undone - my kin have fallen and the place where I was born, razed to the ground. It is a place I have known all my winters and rarely have I strayed beyond its surrounds.

Now I have seen many places and begin to realize the world is cold and vast and friendless.

My name is Tora Haraldsdotter and my father was Jarl of our settlement - I am granddaughter to Haakon the hero and of the line of Eric One Eye and Olaf Giantsbane - my mother was Elfrida the Fair, for her looks, not her raven locks which I have inherited.

I am the youngest and the only girl child - my brothers who sup this night in Valhalla are Sveyn, tall and handsome, and Haakon the Strong. My most famous and youngest brother is Hrolf known as Ironborn, whose prowess was foretold by Odin himself. I know not if my brother lives - for surely he would have come by now if that were the case.

The second youngest of my brothers, but still my elder, is Sverre the Crafty - it was said that he was beloved of Loki and shared that Trickster's nature, but then folk will talk, and they will be unkind. But Sverre would simply laugh at their accusations and play into them, for it amused him.

But I knew my brother to be as mighty a warrior as Sveyn, almost as strong as Haakon and if anything, his adventurous nature surpassed even that of Hrolf.

If the gods be with us then Sverre yet lives and I would find and be reunited with him - in truth though I loved all my brothers, Sverre and I both favoured our mother though none called me dark or crafty ... but why should they, for I was sweet and innocent. Swanhilde still calls me sweet but I fear with what I have seen, my innocence is lost.

Swanhilde is the sister I never had and I have always loved her, but never more so than in this, the year I turn fourteen - for now, somehow, miraculously, she has changed and blossomed from the maid of old into a shield maiden who inspires folk to follow her. But more than this, the new Swanhilde cares and shows a compassion she lacked before the attack on our settlement that changed everything.

I would follow her to the ends of the earth, as would the boy and old man who have pledged bow and axe to her service. But to keep true to my internal vow I must disobey my sister and remind myself I too am of heroic noble blood. She has ordered that I stay in Alesund with the remaining folk of our village - I am to wait for a brother who may never come. Aye and also a love, I fear lost.

Sven was but 15 when he sailed with my brother Hrolf and though I am not as clever as my brother Sverre, mother always said I was the most thoughtful and reasoning of all her children besides him - it is now time to put away girlish thoughts and dreams - though my heart aches for Hrolf and yes, for poor Sven, my mind tells me they are dead, perhaps drowned in the fierce storm the gods brought upon our shores around the time Trousbjorg was reaved.

And so my decision was made - I would not remain here, a refugee among girls, children and old folks. If my sister intended to sail to the ends of the earth to seek her place in the world, then I would go with her and I would reunite with the one brother I was sure, yet lived.

I, the Lady Tora Haraldsdotter ... a girl no longer.

***

After we said our 'farewells' I returned in doors to the hall that now belonged to Vigbert, and swiftly moving, entered the rear chambers where Swanhilde and I had resided - beneath a bench lay my simple pack, over-looked when my sister had removed her own belongings. Within lay clothing, some food, water and my wealth.

As the only present surviving heir of my father, his troves had been dug up on the orders of Swanhilde - to be saved for the return of Hrolf and the use of our few dozen remaining folk.

My friend Fridgerd, barely more than a year my younger, had wept when I had told her of my intent - to her, I entrusted the whereabouts of the remaining trove - mostly buried in the hills outside the settlement in a spot Swanhilde and I had marked. The remainder I left in the chambers with my friend, save a few heavy purses of gold and as many gold armlets as I could wear or stow.

Our people were fiercely loyal and devoted - they would take what they needed and Fridgerd and the other girls would guard the location of the trove until the return of my brother. I had told them to wait an entire year before they gave Hrolf up as dead - then they could divide the wealth among our people.

And so out of the window, did I clamber, somewhat awkwardly, but with the aid of Fridgerd - now I was in a darkened alley to the rear of the hall. Fridgerd handed out my pack and with tears upon her dear face, she leaned out and down to kiss my forehead and wish me good journey.

Dressed all in girded leather and wrapped in a cloak, dark as night, my next task was to creep to the through way and sneak unnoticed through the pre dawn dark to where the cart stood.

A crowd of people had come to bid the travellers farewell, by torch-light, but none noticed the small cloaked shape that slipped around their backs ... none save one.

It was the old woman Agata, she who was grandmother to my sweet sister Swanhilde - who had seen her son's daughter but briefly twice in this lifetime - as a babe and unexpectedly these past weeks, but had now resolved herself to the fact that they would meet, nevermore.

For a moment I was caught in the torch-light and old Agata looked directly into my eyes. I feared she would call for the new ruler's yeoman to seize me and take me, kicking and screaming, back into the hall like an unruly child caught in an act of transgression.

Instead, she smiled and nodded. This ancient seeress had been surprised by recent events, tis true, but in the main she still recognized the workings of the hand of fate. And my fate lay far from these shores.

So the grandmother of my sister said nothing; she did nothing - nothing but allow fate to play out its hand.

I hesitated no longer than it took to return her nod and then I moved towards the cart and secreted myself in the back, tucking my small frame away behind a great chest which had once belonged to Swanhilde's lady mother, Queen Svanfritha.

Presently the horses began to move and after a journey of an hour or more, we had arrived at the coast where a ship was berthed. This was the means of transport for us all - for Swanhilde, Beinir, Kraki and the dozens of warriors and shield maidens who had pledged their troth to the lost princess of Alesund.

By good fortune it was a large vessel, perhaps of Frankish build - more designed for transport of goods and passengers than reavers. I had but to secret myself aboard and hide below and when we were far from my native shores - too far to turn back, then and only then would I reveal myself.

And indeed, this is what happened, somewhere (I am told) off of the shores of Frankia towards the southernmost borders of the Carolingian Empire.

By then we had been what seemed many long days at sea and my supply of food had exhausted itself. The heat was growing unbearable and after all the time of emerging to steal fresh water only at night, I had at last been driven to seek respite during the day.

Before doing so, I had told myself I would either be caught or not - that was up to the gods, and besides there was now nothing Swanhilde could do to send me away.

So I emerged from the depths of the hold and ran right into Kraki.

At first he merely nodded, thinking me one of the younger (but still several years older) shield maidens, but then a look of recognition flashed in his eye and he gasped.

The fates had spoken and I could only sway in the breeze of their whims.

'Take me to Swanhilde,' I imperiously commanded the blonde haired youth.

For a moment he gawped at me, but then an impudent but not unappealing smile came over his smooth face.

'Right this way ... my lady.'

He inclined in a sort of mocking bow which I deigned not to notice. Then we went to meet Swanhilde and see what fate had next, in store for me.