10) A Dream That Cannot Be

After years of anticipation, Thorgrim finally returns home to seek his bride.

The little boat reached the northern shore well after the sun set. From there we had but an hour walk to the village. To home. An hour walk through this godforsaken storm. The air tasted burnt in my throat after each lightning bolt. The storm pounded out such a melody that The Gods themselves would struggle to keep up the tempo. Yet we hurried, for we had but three days.

We dragged our little ship up to the tree line and flipped her upside down. She would serve as our shelter for the night. We could do nothing about the muddy ground, and our clammy skin wouldn't get truly dry, but it was the best we could do. Fortunately, this was not a raid. We came in peace, without armor, so at least our skin would be spared the chafing and rashes that come with wearing leather and metal in wet weather.

The men had no real role but to support me. With what I needed to do, they could be of no help. They could stave off bandits, but they weren't likely to appear in these parts. Aside from that, their role had been to row when the wind grew slack. I had been dreaming of this day for years. Now the day grew neigh, and I found myself more nervous than I'd ever been in any shield wall, for I returned to my boyhood home to claim my bride.

Emma and I had known each other since children. Back then, we played childhood games where we pretended to be husband and wife. Our destiny was to grow old together, raise a brood of children, and enjoy the simple pleasures of our village. Many men sung of glory in the mead hall, and perhaps some of them even meant it, but for me a peaceful life with the woman I loved mattered more than an armful of silver rings.

All these years later I could still remember her impish laugh. The touch of her hair, finer than precious silk from the Far East. The first time we kissed, we had just tasted a dollop of honey, and nothing had ever tasted finer in my life. Alas, I know now that The Norns would never allow such a simple, perfect life. Our strings, intertwined since childhood, were ripped asunder. All because of Rolf.

Rolf had been The Earl's right-hand man. Had he lived he might have achieved an earldom of his own, but in a fit of rage I slew him. I knew not what I did. I grabbed his own sword, which I still wore to this day, and created a blood fountain for the eagles out of his throat. For Rolf had come to take my bride away. Worse yet, she had agreed to go. At the time he had far more prospects than I. I was a mere boy, a nothing child from a nothing village. He could offer her a life of luxury and ease which I could not. Not then, anyway.

When she cast me aside, I went white with anger. I couldn't hear. I couldn't think straight. Women have always had the ability to make men lose their minds. She proved that I was no more immune to it than any other man. Women call it a jealous fit when we grow angry like that, yet countless many times I've seen women deliberately provoke the ire of their men. It's not jealousy if its manipulation. Emma hadn't done that, though. Not on that day, at least.

None got what they wanted that day. Rolf lay dead at my feet - the first man I'd ever killed. Emma lost the boy of her childhood and the promise of her future. I'd lost the girl I loved, my life as I knew it, my home, and even my family. Much of this could never be replaced, but now, as a Jomsviking, I could offer her both the boy of her youth and the prosperity she'd desired. Nothing would fill my heart more than making her happy, and I'd returned to do exactly that. I had vowed this and after years of wait, she was almost in my grasp. So why was I so nervous?

Despite the years, the soggy path to the village seemed intimately familiar. I still knew every step. The root that used to trip me as a boy had been sawed away, so some things had changed. Not long now.

I had one other errand in the village that morning. One I'd debated whether I should do or not. It was only as I walked the familiar ground, I finally decided that yes, before I claimed my woman, I would return to my childhood home and attempt to speak with my father. He had thrown me out for killing Rolf, and the fury fueled me in those first years. Yet over time I'd come to understand the position I'd placed him in. If he stood by me, he would defy The Earl himself. His very life would be forfeit. It could not have been easy. My mother had died in childbirth, so my father had raised me on his own. I'd made him choose between his loyalty to his lord, or to his son. The shame must have been unbearable. Had he not cast me out, both of us would have been killed, not just me.

I could see the simple wooden house now, yet no smoke emerged from the chimney. No fowl pecked in the yard. I peeked through a crack in a boarded-over window. There were still furnishings inside, but it seemed unoccupied. I would bet Loki my sword that the hearth was cold.

"He's gone," a voice announced.

I turned around and looked at my neighbor. Older now, yet still strong.

"Oh, its you." He recognized me and scowled. "You've come back, eh. Well, you're too late."

I wanted to say something, but I had no words for the disdain on his face.

"The Earl is going Viking. He needed men. Your father is too old, but you ran off. He thinks you dead, Thorgrim. There's no one else to fulfill the family obligation so he went with them. Ever seen a dead man walking? He knows it isn't going to end well. He believes his line likely ends on this raid. Hope you're happy."

He spat in the dirt and walked away. My jaw hung agape, yet still no words formed. What could I possibly say? At least if my father returned, the neighbor would tell him that I tried to visit him. I suppose that would have to be enough. I tried. I may as well have not bothered. I could have skipped this visit, claimed Emma, and rowed back to Jomsborg.

With the thought of Emma, my nerves returned. I could put her off no more. One of the men patted me on the back.

"Now we finally get to see if your woman is all you say she is, eh Thorgrim!"

The others laughed, yet I could barely crack a smile. Instead, I had to find a tree on the forest's edge and make water. Even this brought back memories. How many dozens, neigh hundreds of times had I watered this same tree? I had crossed forests, journeyed over mountain and sea, and now I finally return. All for her.

A raven flew overhead, stopping on a tree next to a familiar home, emerging in the distance. Somehow it seemed bigger as a child. Somehow the path was longer then, too. There was a new shield hanging outside the house decorated with a scheme I didn't recognize. As I got closer I realized it was The Earl's badge, yet different. The same basic theme and colors, but this shield had a Valkyrie painted on it.

I held up my hand to stop my men and approached the house alone. A young woman emerged. Emma; a girl no more, yet so much the same. She still bore the same flat stomach and tiny hips that I'd wrapped my arms around as a youth. Yet she'd grown strong; muscular arms and broad shoulders the envy of some men. And that face. Such a face. Its softness had grown hard, yet I found myself melting again like I had every time I'd gazed upon that face as a child.

Finally, I summoned the urge to speak.

"I have returned," I announced. That much I'd planned in advance. After that I had no idea what I'd say next.

"So I see. Last time you stood in this yard you ruined my life. What brings you back?"

"You."

"Me?" She laughed.

"I am a Jomsviking now. Come with me and I will set you free of this village. I can now give you what your life could have been."

"Yes, I see you. You're a full grown man now. So full of yourself. You haven't changed. You'll never understand."

"Understand what?"

"See what I mean? You destroyed my life. Now you think you can return, and I'll leap into your arms just because you carry a sword? I carry my own sword. You talk of setting me free. Can't you see? I'm already free. I live my own life with no man telling me what to do. I have stood in the shield wall for The Earl and killed more men than anyone in this village. Just leave me be."

"Imagine us, fighting side by side, together. Even better, imagine us, side by side, not fighting at all. Imagine us raising a family somewhere. Just us. Together as we were meant to be."

"Meant to be? Can't you see? I've left the memories of our youth behind. I don't know what you thought you'd find here, but I'm not pining away dreaming of you or any other man. Yours is a dream that cannot be. You sealed that in blood the moment that blade pierced Rolf. I could have loved him. I could have loved you, then. Not now. I cannot love any longer. I have tasted freedom, and I love it more than I could ever love any man."

I could feel the anger simmering. Growing. I looked behind me at my men. They scuffed their feet, looked away, and would not meet my gaze. She humiliates me in front of my men! The anger boiled. I reached out and grabbed her by the arm. When she resisted I twisted the arm behind her back, drew my knife, reached around and placed it at her throat.

"Oh, I'll set you free alright,." I shouted. "I'll show you what your life could be!"

Before I'd even finished uttering the words she'd flipped me arse over teakettle onto the ground at her feet and kicked the knife out of my hand.

"I AM FREE!" she shouted over my words. "Now leave me be! Go! And never come back!"

Somehow the word "never" pierced the anger. And my heart as well. Both deflated. The rage subsided and I lay there, a broken man. She stomped back inside the house. The rain hid my tears as my men and I walked in stone silence back to the boat and sailed empty handed back to Jomsborg.

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1880 Words