Page 7

4

Varrik left the other three to return to the Vikings who had been given a new lease on life. He was intrigued by this new opportunity, as well as the possibility of spending more time with this remarkable woman. She had no hesitation in speaking her mind, and this was something that intrigued him, despite her mind being made up on the fact that she disliked him. If he could prove to her that he was a good man, then he knew that the gods would be convinced too, and he would earn his rightful place in Valhalla.

“Get your things ready, what little possessions you have. We’re going back to the Highlands,” he said to the Vikings. There were murmurings among them, and some people moaned.

“We’ve only just gotten used to life here. Why are we being forced to leave?” someone asked.

“Because there is a clan in need of strong men. It is a chance for us to do good, to make up for the sins of our past,” Varrik said.

“And what if we don’t want to leave? Do we have a choice?” someone else asked.

“No,” Varrik sneered, “and if anyone dares to fight against this, they will have to answer to me. I know not all of you feel guilty about what we did, but mark my words, the gods will judge us, and at the moment, their judgment is unfavorable. We need to make amends, and this is a good way to start.”

The other Vikings huffed and sighed, but they began to move.

“And where is our new home going to be?” a woman inquired.

“The Callan clan. Rune was trying to make an arrangement with Laird Callan for an alliance. He strikes me as a good man, and I think he will be fair to me.”

The mention of the Callan clan made the Vikings’ ears prick up, and there was suddenly a murmur of excitement.

“That’s who they are? I’ve seen some of their women in the village. I wouldn’t mind being a little closer to them. They’re magnificent,” one man said, and his words were met with agreement.

Varrik let them get excited. He didn’t particularly care what their motivation was for going along with this request, as long as they did go along with it. If they let their lust lead them, then so be it; it was only going to help them settle into their new home.

During the journey back through the Highlands, Varrik tried to fashion opportunities to speak with Fiona, but she proved to be elusive. She kept herself at the furthest point forward, leading the group through the forest, while the other warriors flanked her and formed a barrier upon their horses, which they had picked up upon returning to the mainland from the island. Varrik could only glimpse her. Occasionally he caught her looking back at him, and their eyes met for an instant, but only an instant. There was a rushing sensation through his mind, as though the world was spinning around him. But he could sense that she had nothing but disdain toward him.

Nothing untoward happened to them as they rode back to Callan territory, although Varrik almost wished that some bandits would leap out and strike. This was for two reasons; firstly, he would have liked to prove himself in battle and come to the defense of Laird Callan as a way to show his honor and intentions, but also because he longed to see Fiona in battle. It was one thing to carry a sword, but quite another to wield it, and he wanted to see if her confidence was warranted. However, their journey was uneventful, and they reached the Callan village without any difficulty.

The village that was to be Varrik’s new home was familiar to him as most villages in the area had a similar aesthetic. The houses were small and squat, clustered together in a simple arrangement. There were stables as well as other buildings to serve the community. The sound of a smith hammering away at his forge greeted him, as did the shuffling of feet as people came to greet the new arrivals. There were many faces that recoiled in fear, but there was one face that gazed at him intently. Her fair hair was different from the other Highlanders, who favored a darker shade to their hair. Varrik was intrigued by this woman, although only because she stood out among the crowd, not for any intrinsic quality like with Fiona.

“Take these horses tae the stables, and I shall meet ye there,” Fiona said.

When Varrik walked away, he saw that she was in deep conversation with her father, and she had a sullen look on her face. No doubt she was being asked to do something she did not want to do.

Varrik reached the stables and started to lead the horses into their paddocks. The ground was covered with hay, and there was a trough filled with water. The horses drank their fill as they were tired. The light was beginning to fade as most of the day had passed. Varrik patted their hides and made sure they were all safe and relaxed with the help of the other men. Once they had finished, Fiona came to them. She stood in the doorway of the stables, keeping her distance from them.

“When the morning comes, I will show ye around the village sae ye can get used tae yer new home. For taenight, ye will sleep in the stables until I can be sure ye can be trusted. If there’s any trouble, any trouble at all”—she pointed in Varrik’s direction—“I will run ye out of the village myself. I will see that some food is brought tae ye. Ye should be comfortable enough here for a few nights at least,” she said.

There was much consternation from the Vikings at this, for they had not been brought here to sleep in stables.

“We should have beds!” were the cries that rang up around Varrik, not that Fiona cared. She had already walked away. Varrik came around to address the men. He held out his palms to try and calm their emotions.

“I know this is not what we expected, but it is only for one night. We have all slept rough before,” he said.

The other men glared and pouted. They sank to the floor and folded their arms across their chests.

“I know the man had a cruel heart, but at least we had things better with him,” a man called Stefan said. He was a man with a deceptively slender build, but Varrik knew not to underestimate him in combat. He had a healthy appetite with food and with women, and he had always been eager to take pleasure in the misfortune of others.

When Varrik saw that others were nodding along in agreement, his heart sank. This wasn’t going to work if they were going to cling to the old ways, and yet he also couldn’t blame them for feeling slighted. They had come here to help, after all, and yet they were being treated like lepers.

“We might have thought we did, but we didn’t, not really. Rune never gave us a taste of glory, and he never gave us a chance to test ourselves in front of the gods. He took what he wanted from the weak, and that was all. We have a chance here to be better, to show these people how strong we are...or are you all so weak that you can’t endure one night in a stable?” Varrik goaded.

Stefan and a few other men scowled at him. “Of course we can stay here for one night. All I’m saying is that it’s not right. We came here because they wanted our help, and this is how they treat us? I’m starting to think I should have gone back to Norway. I’m not sure Vikings should ever have come to the Highlands in the first place. They think they have a right to everything in here.”

“They did prove themselves in battle,” another man said, but Stefan scoffed again.

“With the help of the Hoffstads. If the Hoffstads hadn’t fought by their side, we would have been victorious.”