1
RASHA
Celebrating Yule with the four clans is going to be a disaster. Tonight is the winter solstice, and to match the endless dark, my face is wet with black lines of paint, representing the years I have held the lead huntress position in my clan. Resisting the urge to fidget with the heavy antler and holly crown sitting over my red hair, I wait for my brother at the front gate of the Aske Stronghold. All four clans chose me to be the Maiden of Yule and light the massive log that will burn throughout the next twelve nights of Yule feasts.
Harald, the Jarl of Aske, invited all the Vikings to his stronghold to celebrate the customary cycle of death and rebirth. It is an honor to be chosen as the Maiden of Yule, and I fully intend on leading our people through the darkness of winter one way or another.
“I need you to stick to my plan for the next twelve days, Rasha,” Jorvik, my brother, says with a smug smile. Fluffing the long, fur cloak around my creamy white dress, we walk to the ceremonial circle built in the middle of the village. Jorvik has been traveling back and forth between the clans for months. When my clan arrived here last night, we were shocked when Jorvik told us that Harald agreed to bend the knee to a King from across the sea. And that the huntresses were purposely kept in the dark by my brother.
“I will not be forced to marry someone I don’t know.” I walk faster to catch up to my friends, but Jorvik quickly loops his hand through my arm to yank me close, not letting me get far. His blue eyes, the same as mine, sear through me in a harsh stare.
“Harald is the most powerful man here, and you will marry him on the last night of Yule. A union blessed by the gods,” he mutters. My freedom is now intertwined with the livelihood of all the Vikings.
“How many times do I have to tell you, no,” I reply, plastering a smile on my face for those who walk with us.
Jorvik regularly tries to sell me off, using my virginity and skills to entice different leaders into marrying me to boost his own political position. I’ve always found a way out of his ridiculous arrangements. Squirming against his skinny frame, I feel him dig his fingers into my arm.
“I am serious, Rasha. This is our chance. If you don’t see that, then you really do belong out there.” He gestures to the tips of the mountains peeking over the village wall and the forest beyond the fjord.
“I am a huntress, and I belong out there. Who will keep the balance of nature for the gods if not huntresses?” I retort, and he lets me go. Having exhausted every excuse in the dozens of our arguments on the journey here, I crunch through the frozen path determined to find my friends.
After tonight, I need to focus on my plan to find the tomb of the goddess Skadi. She relinquished her immortality to be a huntress and died on the fjord hundreds of years ago, according to the Ballads. Her tomb lies somewhere on this land, now owned by Harald. But feast songs retell a story about a great shrine built to honor her contribution to the clans, though there is no proof it ever existed. The real reason I agreed to come to Harald’s Yule is the possibility that the tomb is real and the goddess’s bow is buried inside.
If the bow holds any remnant of the goddesses power, I can earn my freedom and help our people return to honoring the gods. Leading my clan and whoever wants to follow, we will find the lostreindeer herd beyond the mountains, away from Harald and his new King.
“What did Jorvik say to make you all flustered?” Joanna asks as I squish myself between the two women.
“The same as always. He wants me to agree to marry Harald,” I reply.
“That’s not a bad idea, Rasha,” Katrine chimes in, and my stomach churns. Katrine is a beautiful blonde with soft blue eyes. She enjoys spending her nights in the throws of any strong man who’ll sweep her off her feet. Her father is a well established trader on our council, making Katrine and her mother free women. I envy her ability to fall in love, hunt, or choose to marry when she feels ready. Whereas Joanna, the severe looking brunette on the other side of me, is parentless like I am, and hunting allows her freedom.
“I have no interest in marrying anyone,” I reply, and they both tense beside me. “You two cannot be serious? Do you agree with Jorvik that I should marry Harald?” I ask, feeling betrayed by the two women I consider my sisters.
“We want you to be safe,” Joanna starts, but her voice drifts away with a gentle smile. Katrine doesn’t give Joanna a minute to collect her thoughts before continuing the battering conversation.
“Harald is now backed by a King. We don’t know what power the King holds. He could march right through the mountains and take all our land. He could make us comply in all ways. Rasha, you must think about everyone.” Katrine’s voice is determined like she practiced this speech in the women’s longhouse. I was given my own room in the Aske Stronghold, so I didn’t have the pleasure of this conversation earlier.
“I have a plan,” I whisper, wanting to keep my voice down around the building crowd.
“Your plan is to pray to a goddess whom everyone has forgotten,” Katrine argues.
“Not tonight, Katrine.” Joanna comes around my other side to send the best withering stare she can muster at Katrine. “Rasha is the Maiden of Yule, and we should pray to the gods and the goddesses. A Jarl and a King cannot replace them.”
I lean my head against Joanna’s boney shoulder in thanks. Katrine halts her arguing and pretends to fix the holly and evergreen crown on her head. The huntresses and women, eligible for marriage, wear earth-like crowns, absent of the antlers on mine, so the free men of the clans know who they can pursue. Tonight is a more subdued evening with a feast, while the night of the Wild Hunt is when unions between couples ignite.
The village streets are packed with people and their families. Children hold lanterns and palm sized carvings of their favorite gods. Little girls are wrapped in fur blankets in their father’s arms. While tentative women walk through, pouring ale and mead into horns.
“Here is our beautiful Maiden!” the Jarl bellows my introduction as the three of us walk into the ceremonial circle.
“At least he’s attractive,” Katrine whispers in my ear, and I stifle a smile at her persistence. The Jarl is attractive; she isn’t wrong. Broad and strong, his dark hair is tied back, and he has a full beard.
“Thank you for being so generous with your land and welcoming all of us,” I loudly reply while a hundred eyes watch me break from my friends to walk up to him. Harald dips his chin in harmless acceptance of my position and opens his arms wide. I glance back, the strangest sense of needing my brother to know I am trying overcomes me. Instead I find him shaking the hands of other men around us.
“Rasha, you are not what I expected,” Harald says.
“What did you expect?” I ask with a smile on my face. Harald tries to slip his hand around my waist, so I turn to him instead. He looks me over, his roaming eyes pausing at my full breasts and curved hips in a way that makes me want to crawl out of my skin. Closing the fur cloak over my dress prompts him to clear his throat.
“I was told you are a heathen. A hunter who prefers the mountains and camping together with throngs of unwed men and women,” he says, making me shiver, more from his comments than the bitter cold.
