Fallon (temp title)

The WindDancer rose and fell upon the grey North Sea, a light rain fell as a strong wind filled her sail, ropes creaked with the strain. The coast to port was barley visible as she headed north in great haste. Fallon stood near Skornsson who held the rudder, she felt a chill as someone cried “SAIL…A SAIL TO THE NORTH” Over the noise of the buffeting wind she shouted back “IS IT HER…IS IT THE JORMUNANDR?”
 Skornsson placed a bear paw of a hand on her shoulder and too ear “What colour the sail?”
She moved forward to get a better view, as their quarry dipped out of view within the waves. Then bobbing up again she saw the green sail of Jarl Gustav’s longship, riding low in the water, heavy with the plunder taken from Fallon’s hall and lands. She could see that the Jorgmunandr was struggling but still moving fast for the safety of Jorvik. She moved aft awkwardly between her men sat ready by their oars toward Skornsson her own longships captain. Though she was their Lord, Skornsson knew ships better than any she knew, so whilst aboard Skornsson was leader. Fallon “ Tis her, and heavy with what is ours” Skornsson’s biceps bulged as he fought the tiller, he looked into Fallon’s eyes and saw the anger there, “We’ll not catch her before night, he’ll head for Jorvik but he’ll need safe harbour well south come nightfall. Does anyone know this land M’lady?”

Fallon, daughter of Cwnthryth a Saxon woman of noble birth and Jarl Heddrikson a Dane. Both parents died 5 years before, some said of sorcery striking both down together of a stomach malady. She had been 12 years old, and suddenly thrown into a war of succession. Her fathers land was hers by right under Saxon law. Under Danelaw however, it was up for grabs. Being from Mercia, neither Saxon or Dane held sway, within 2 years she’d lost all. All except her fathers faithful, Skornsson along with 38 others, along with her fathers longship, a 40 oar raider, originally called StormWeaver Fallon renamed her, something to call truly her own. 
 As leader and expected gold giver to her men, now destitute at 15 she married. A little Saxon lord, Wulfrun, settling in a Wessex coastal village near Yarmouth. He was old but a kindly man, died in his sleep peacefully a year later. She inherited all his lands, good farming land and fishing, her hall though small were kept well, her grain stores full. All her original men save 1 were still with her. The 1 also having died during their many travels getting here, a mere accident falling into a river and drowning.

Then last nights raid. Her hall, barns, grain stores burned. Her outlying serfs homes also burned. Farm labourers slaughtered, women taken, her strong box unearthed and her gold stolen. Jarl Gustav, the one who also now sat in her fathers hall, the one who now knowingly or not, set to ruin her again. NOT THIS TIME

“Aye M'lady I know this land” Mathew spoke up, a young Saxon who had replaced Rigg after his drowning, “She heads to a large marshland we call The Wash, has many a hiding place and poor hamlets within. Tis tidal M’lady treacherous to navigate unless known, which alas I do not” Fallon turned to Skornsson “What to do?” Skornsson looked thoughtful stroking his long reddish beard with one hand while the other never left the tiller. “We sail on in the night, 10 miles south of Jorvik I know a place we can lie in wait. We can rest a few hours before the ambush, they will be tiring again if their about the oar.” 
 To sail in the blackness so close to the coast was a dangerous choice. But she trusted Skornsson above all men so in his hands they sailed on. As the sun sank, not one light could be seen from shore, clouds kept moon and stars at bay, so even the lands silhouette melted into the black. Dawn saw them many leagues ahead The Wash and all to soon Skornsson manoeuvred WindDancer into a tight cove. A stone anchor held them in place. As men slept and Fallon too, Mathew was sent to climb the cliffs and act as look out for the Jorgmunandr.
 Breaking their fast on dried fish and ale, Mathew shouted as he climbed down a steep incline. The Jorgmunandr was on the horizon. She was a slightly smaller ship than the WindDancer but sturdier, she sailed on wind power more often than oar, but Gustav was in a hurry, 22 oars bit the waters. Wind Dancer was of the Gokstad design, built for war, the sail hoisted as 38 oars heaved. Skornsson timed the attack well, they came upon each other head on, the heavier Jorgmunandr was outmanoeuvred as Wind Dancer crashed into her starboard side smashing Jorgmunandr's oars with deafening crack. None of her crew were dressed for battle as they had expected none. Fallon's men and herself wore leather, chain mail and helms. Most armed with axe or short swords as the fighting would be close. As grapples locked the two ships together Fallon's men jumped onto Gustav's ship with mighty roars. In less than 10 minutes in was over. Fallon's losses were but 6 injured only one seriously, Gustav however suffered greatly. Half his 40 crew lay dead or dying, the floor slippery in blood and gore as Skornsson threw Gustav to his knees before his Lord lady.
 To Fallon's surprise and all WindDancers crew, Gustav as he removed his helm wasn't Gustav. Fallon's voice was clear calm yet icy cold “And you are?” The young man with piercing slate grey eyes and blond beard met her gaze with no fear “Jarl Olaf son of Jarl Gustav” 
Fallon with much malice “So the pigs turd is dead ?”
“Aye and may the corpse-ripper have him” Olaf spat, real vehemence in his voice
Meanwhile his surviving crew had been tied up, the dead thrown overboard, and cargo being transferred to WindDancer. 
“Did he not die well?”
Olaf “Nor live well, there was no love between us. He left me nothing, losing our lands in Northumbria for displeasing Ubba Lothbrok himself, and our Mercian lands fell to ruin. I have only this ship to provide myself an the few who remained with me.”
Fallon smiled, but there was no amusement within it “And now you have lost all, Gustav in his grave so you will take the revenge I seek from him, and the raid on my lands YOU yourself commanded.”
Fallon handed Olaf who still knelt before her a small axe, he grasped it tightly and nodded knowingly, then in front of all on that blood drenched ship Fallon took her knife and slit Olaf’s throat. His blood gushed as his mouth opened and closed as a fish taken from a river, finally he fell as the blood slowed, all the while grasping the axe.

As the final barrels and boxes were placed aboard WindDancer Skornsson turned to Olaf's men “I need 6” The first 6 to stand were taken into their fold, the others went to Ran.

“Skornsson make to Jorvik, sell Jorgmunandr , split half with the men, the other keep safe. I wonder who now holds Gustav's land?”
“We can ask the town reeve, are you thinking of acquiring it ? Will be good to be among our own again. Twas never an easy feeling surrounded by Saxons” 
The ship alone would easily make much an more to pay for his lands.
“Skornsson, half our crew is Saxon. But yes, a new home amongst our own.”

WindDancer under sail only rested her men, Twas slow progress and the sun was dipping once more as Jorvik came into view. All could smell the city well before it was sighted, the stench of humanity, tanneries, sewage, burnt or burning wood, dyers, manure all mixed together to create an acrid pungent stink. Entering the Ouse to find a mooring, ships abound tightly packed, most trading vessels from Denmark, Frisia, Wessex and one from the savage lands to Northumbria’s north. Skornsson carefully placed her into a mooring, the Jorgmunandr in tow was anchored an tethered to WindDancers starboard.
 The harbour master met them accompanied by two large fearsome guards, armed with large cudgels. Paying him their mooring fee and tax to enter the town with gold they hacked from a well crafted ornate plate depicting Christ’s sermon on the mount. Danes unlike Saxons had no coin. Only ten of the ships crew were allowed into town at a time, no arms could be carried. So Fallon let others go first staying on board until next morning, when she, Skornsson and another Saxon crew member Eolthwig would find the reeve. Eolthwig would sell their captured ship, he by trade being a shipwright, amongst other dubious trades.
 The six survivors were given a choice, take an oath and arm ring an stay, or leave. Three stayed, the others wandered into town, to seek new Lords. A risk since lordless men here either starved or finally hanged for thievery if no Lord would have them. Fallon gave them their first task, giving enough gold to resupply WindDancer for 3 days. Then asked Mathew to secretly follow them.

Jorvik bustled, markets thrived, trade and commerce its life's blood, wool, cloth, stone, timber, fish and meat, rare spices, wines, ale, metals, nothing that could not be bought, even slaves. Olive skinned men, a dozen of them, chains around their necks and feet, tethered together with leather were lead toward the slave market, closely filled by four young women, three the same colour as the men, the other as dark as night. Fallon had heard of these dark skinned peoples, but thought they were just boastful travellers tales.
This slave had drawn quite a crowd, the slaver would make a very handsome profit today.
Fallon like many where fascinated by her. An “Awe” came from the crowd as she was lead up to the small platform and stripped, the same colour all over! 
 “Skornsson, stay here, buy her” He but nodded dutifully, his Lady had that determined look in her eye he'd seen many times. He didn't even ask how much she was willing to spend, he just had to get her her desire.
 
 Skornsson had known Fallon since her birth, watched her grow as an only child as more boyish than girl. At ten she was already a master with axe, shield and bow. She could fight, hunt, fish and above all she loved to sail. Her mother despaired at her only daughter, no interest in womanly duties, not interest in her mothers God, or even her fathers Gods.
Fallon had her mothers porcelain skin and long thick main of raven black hair. Her fathers height of 5ft 8”, her fathers sometimes cruel temper, yet fair justice and wise leadership. She was strong in her resolve, never shied away from hardships or any fight, but neither did she look for them. Her men called her their Lord, not Ladyship or if she really liked you, you could call her Fal in private conversation.
 She ate and drank with her men, her hall was open to them all. She took their council, took interest in their welfare, and as all good lords, shared the wealth. This was the warriors bond with their lords, loyalty for gold, a roof and a ship. Yet Fallon despised treachery, Skornsson had seen her farther disembowel two of his men for running away, forcing all his men and serfs to watch, there was no doubt in Skornsson’s mind his daughter would do the same.

Later that evening all where back upon WinDancer. The men stared at the ebony young woman, sat still in chains on a barrel on dried herrings in the middle of the deck against the mast. Jorgmunandr was gone, sold to some Frisian traders, three chests of gold, all the men were fully armed and armoured. Fallon had arranged to meet the towns reeve tomorrow at a tavern, she was now sat also armed upon a coil of rope directly opposite her slave, staring at her. She was in a short simple undyed linen shift, her hair short down to her neck, but thick and curly, it looked wiry but Fallon reached out and touched it, it was soft. The slave kept still but her eyes down. Her dark long legs looked so smooth, almost reflecting the moonlight. Fallon felt a stirring in her belly, and reddened. She gave her a blanket, the slave looked up “Thank you” she murmured. All were taken aback! 
Fallon “You speak our tongue?”
Still looking down “Yes Master”
Fallon was pleased at this “What is your name, where are you from?”
For the first time she looked up, her dark drown eyes meeting the piercing blue of Fallon’s “Maya, Master. I come from a far place, but a slave so long I cannot recall”
“You address me as Lord, and what are your skills Maya?”
Eyes down once more “I cook, I clean, wash and mend clothes, I weave and make wool, I sing and dance, and….” Fallon cut her off at the last, she knew what was next, pretty slave girls did all their masters bidding and not all masters were decent men
“Swear failty to me, and you shall have your freedom”
Maya looked up, her eyes fierce her voice now frosty “You free me? Why? You have paid much gold for me. Masters have said this before then laughed in my face. Do you also?”
Fallon smiled at her, she admired her bravery speaking her mind. Getting up from her hemp seat turning toward her crew saying “Your choice” Maya quickly replying “Then yes I swear this failty to you” Fallon turned to Mathew “Release her, give her clothes and food, and tomorrow I'll gift her an arm ring”

As Maya ate with the crew, unshackled, she was bombarded by many questions from many crew. Fallon sat back eating and drinking, but mostly listening intently to Maya. Wondering where she came from, what lands held her people, what treasures would they hold? How beautiful she was, she reddened yet again. As the ale took hold Fallon got up, “Skornsson, with me. I want a drink in town. Men be on your guard we shall return soon”

That night as Skornsson sat at a taverns table playing Hnefatafl, watching the door Fallon had gone through while she fucked a random man of her choosing. She never slept with her men, rarely with anyone. Tonight her urge was strong, but even after it was over, she still was not quite satisfied. She wondered if the ebony girl had bewitched her, tomorrow after meeting the reeve maybe she should see either a priest or spákona.

As the man left, Skornsson eyed him venomously, he knew it was jealousy. He had loved Fallon secretly for a long time. When her father could find no husband for her Skornsson was going to ask him for her hand. She was still to young at the time but he could wait until she turned into a woman, her first moon blood. Alas her father died before that. It should be him behind that door he thought savagely, unconsciously his hand tightened around the handle of his dagger.
Skornsson’s darkest secret was that of Fallon’s husbands death. Begrudgingly he liked the man well enough for a Saxon. He’d treated Fallon well, but Skornsson had been consumed with jealously, starting with her wedding night. Skornsson had been on guard duty outside the newly weds door, listening to that man grunting like a rutting boar, as Fallon moaned in her final throws of pleasure. For a year he’d endured watching her go to his bedchamber each evening. It sored him as salt into a wound until he could take no more. 
 He’d been very drunk that night, Fallon also had passed out with wine and ale. Theign Wulfrun carried her to their bedchamber at the rear of his Hall. The door shut behind them, then not long after the rutting began. As the men filed away or slept where they sat Skornsson well into his cups walked up to their door and listened with ear against its wood. All he heard was Wulfrun’s snoring, he listened for an eternity before bravely, slowly, stupidly, cautiously opened the door, slinging into the darkness within. The only light came from a small but dying fire in a pedestal. Upon the bed lay Wulfrun on his back in a simple shift, the bearskin lay on the floor. Fallon lay next to him, on her front her arms hugging a cushion about her head, naked as the day she was born. Skornsson slipped over to the bed, he’d never hated a man so much as in this moment, with his face but inches from Wulfrun’s he blew gently on his face, Wulfrun didn’t stir. He moved around the bed to Fallon. He stood over her and with his right hand caressed her left inside thigh, so soft her skin, so perfect against his ugly scarred calloused hands, he now aroused moved his hand higher, his heart in his mouth as Fallon moaned softly in her slumbers, her legs opening so slightly, he reached her buttocks holding them in both hands. He couldn’t stop himself, slipping his index finger into her…then his senses took hold, he withdrew. 
 He wanted her, no one should have her, he took another cushion carelessly thrown upon the floor, and in the darkness smothered Wulfrun, he kicked in those last moments a few times, then was forever more still. Skornsson left that room as quietly as cautiously and as scared as when he entered.
 His heat broke at Fallon’s bereavement those following days, he sacrificed to Odinn many times knowing the All Father saw all. But time passed, he never forgot but he slept with ease these days as Fallon seemed to have forgot her husband. Yet here he was again, that same animal rage and lust beating like a war drum in his chest.
 Maybe he should just take her, by force if necessary, she could still learn to love him ? Maybe he should tell her it was he the great warrior Skornsson who was her real power over men. She thought they loved her and they loyal, in truth the men followed him, an he followed her. Men followed strength not young girls barley into womanhood. 
 Skornsson knew he would do nothing, he could not bare the ice cold look she gave her enemies glaring up at him, he’d die before he’d see that.

Fallon broke him out his maudling “Let us aback to WindDancer, and bring some ale and bread with us for the men” They paid a young boy to take a barrel in a barrow to the ship with 6 loaves of bread. The boy, a starving street urchin around ten summers named Halvar never left.

Back aboard it was hot and muggy, Fallon changed into a short shift found a spot on deck where all slept, lay down but sleep would not come. She needed a plan, needed a direction, selling the Jorgmunandr had been a huge financial gain, she hoped to buy her lost lands, regain a title and name of renown once more. Her men were restless, idle for to long, raiding season was in full swing, maybe it was also time to unleash her beasts back toward Wessex. After her talk with the reeve on the morrow she would make a decision after an official ‘All Thing’ with her crew.
 Fallon awoke to find all around her already awake. A woollen cloak had been thrown over her, a chill mist had arisen from the Ouse, already burning off by an early sun. Maya sat on her herring barrel, darning men's shirts. Skornsson was supervising half the men in unloading the ballast stones, he'd wanted to recaulk WindDancer for some time. The other half in full armour lay ready in guard of their wealth. Briefly she wondered if there was some sure safe way to keep ones gold, she'd be glad to have safe lands to bury it in.
 Before leaving for the tavern in town Maya came to her with a simple but beautiful white dress of silk, a material Fallon had only heard of before. The whiteness dazzled her, tight above the waste with a daring low cut V shape front and back, just exposing the swell of her breasts. Tied around the waist with black belt of felt, it's skirt down to her ankles but split from hip all the way down either side, giving a quick flash of thigh as she walked, the finishing touch were leather ankle boots, all squeaky shiny new in black, with large silver buckle on each. As Maya sat Fallon on her barrel, brushing Fallon's hair she talked while stood behind pulling knots “Lord, a woman must use all weapons in her armoury. Some are not of iron. I made the dress last night and had Mathew buy the boots which I stitched the buckles on, they came from one of the chests.”. Fallon winced at each knot pulled, her scalp hurt, yet was also a calming thing to have done, it had been a long time since she had a maid servant. Maya using a hot tongue straightened Fallon's hair, finishing off by placing a simple silver circlet upon her head. Maya had darkened her eyes and reddened her lips. Maya looked Fallon up and down with a critical eye, finally “You are beautiful my Lord, an angel that walks the earth, disarm the men with heavenly bodies, rip out their hearts with desirable smiles” 
 It was then Mathew spoke after a polite cough, “Lord, we sent for a litter so your dress will not soil in the streets” In a rare almost forgotten moment as only young girls really have, Fallon hugged Maya briefly but tightly “Thank you” Fallon whispered, then turned to Skornsson, who had all this time been almost hiding from her gaze, he saw just beautiful she was, Gods forgive him but she could have been Frey herself.

I I

Before stepping into the litter, to be carried by Mathew and Guthrum an English born Dane who knew Jorvik more so than any of her crew, Fallon called out “Boy” Helvar came running, his feet black bearing sores, wearing rough spun trews and hessian shirt, he ran from helping men mixing horsehair for the caulking, he stank. With his head down “M..M..My Lord” he stammered nervously. Fallon placed a finger under his chin forcing his gaze up to hers “Boy, you will follow to the tavern, then with Mathew will go to a bath house and get clean. Mathew will bring you new garb and good shoes. After come straight back and take your instruction from Eolthwig , our shipwright, you are now his apprentice.” Helvar nodded and took a place behind the litter.

Jorviks streets where mostly a quagmire of mud and manure, small pools of water abound, little rivulets zigzagged down hill, a brown foul smelling sludge. As men and women walked their footprints filled with it, ankle deep. The old part of town, built they say by giants, the streets were cobbled, wood shacks became stone, tho their roofs of once tile now thatch. The tavern the sought lay in this part of town, it was named the Red Otter its sign bearing a faded picture of a once red otter under a tree. The tavern itself was 2 storeys high, all seating inside and upstairs provided the oldest trade in the world some private rooms.
 The men here were better dressed than those of the docks. Here were merchants, civil servants who worked for the court, mostly young Jarls or Theigns hoping for fame, glory and bestowed riches from Danelaws capital. Tho it's King was Saxon he was a mere puppet, Oswald the reeve Fallon sought was also a Saxon, had the trust of the King but Dane gold in his purse. He sat at a large table near a window looking onto the street. As the litter was lowered, Owalds eyes near popped as he watched a most beautiful girl step onto the walk boards.
 Mathew left with Helvar, Guthram lead her in thru the taverns single solid oak door, held open with a rope latch. It wasn't busy, was still early in the day. Reeve Oswald sat with a holy man of the Christ God next to him, both with wood goblets of ale while sharing a dish of heavily spiced meats. Fallon uninvited sat opposite them while Guthrum stood behind her, watching both the taverns door and only 2 other customers, both it seemed to drunk to be of any threat.
 Oswald wore the typical clean shaven face but long drooping moustache of the Saxon breed, yet his attire was all Dane. The holy man in plain brown cassock, yet a solid heavy silver cross on a thick gold chain, each arm of the cross were inlaid an emerald. A crook leaned against the wall next to him, it's curved head even more ornate with gold silver and precious stones. Both men's eyes were fixed upon her breasts as she sat weighing these men in her mind. Oswald was first to speak in fluent Danish “So you are Heddrikson’s dotter” it wasn't a question. Fallon irked at his informal tone “Aye, that I am, I have title to reeve. I am Lord…” Owald’s hand waved her silent as he smirked “A Lord my lady? A Lord of where or what exactly pray tell me?” He carried on “Your Wessex lands are ash no doubt, Olaf was a head strong fool, but thorough when Vikingr. Your Mercian estates long gone, now you’re here to beg for Jarl Gustav’s lands in Northumbria.”
 Fallon's eyes narrowed, once again her voice cold “To buy, not beg” Guthrum turned his head sensing the atmosphere, placing a hand on his axe hidden beneath his shirt strapped to his back. Oswald paid him no mind “That land is not for sale, forfeited by debt, gifted to Abbot AElfrith here by the King”
 For the first time the holy man took his eyes from Fallon's chest and spoke, a high pitched voice that repulsed the ear “Tis true, our order has much and more of his lands. However, we may come to an arrangement. We are in need of Dane Lords services which will be paid for handsomely, if you wish to know of it?” Oswald hammered the deal home “What choice do you have? All know the gold is sat in your ship ready for the taking, with no land your no Lord, what protection can you offer, lose it or spend it, what then? Your men will drift. You have no place to go, hence you’re here. Come let us talk, but your man must go”
 Fallon knew Oswald spoke truth, she liked him even less for that, even so “Guthrum, wait outside, let none enter till we leave.” Guthrum now took out his axe, tucking it into his belt nodded to his Lord and left, closing the large oak door behind him.
 Fallon said nothing, she waving over the keep taking a goblet of ale from him. Then leaned a little closer to the two men as a signal to continue, it was AElfith who did the talking. “We know you are no pure blood, we know you follow no god. This marks you my girl, truly. Also you swore no oath to any King. Tell us Fallon Lord of nothing, to whom do you serve ?”
Leaning back looking the reeve in the eye whilst replying to the Abbot “I serve my men, for they serve me. I serve to honour my ancestors, let not their name be tarnished. If I lay claim to land, I will serve the King of that land”
 AElfrith continued “The land I offer is a goodly size, 400 acres” This was now a shock, a huge tract of land, her interest picked up, unconsciously lifting her right leg up onto the bench, hugging it about the knee, Oswalds eyes once again leering lustily at all her naked flesh. AElfrith called the barkeep again, this time ordered a flaggon of wine and fresh cups. Resuming “Deep in the heart of Wessex” Fallon almost jumped “WHAT!!” Oswald grabbed her arm forcing her to sit back down, as Guthrum ran inside. Fallon pushed Oswald hands of her and stood again, “I will think on it, if I wish to hear more. I will send a boy to arrange a meet. If we meet again it will be on my ship WITH my men. I will not skulk in dark corners and listen to a vipers whispers” With that she left with Guthrum, who looked almost disappointed that no fight would be forthcoming.

Back at the docks, aboard WindDancer she changed into a simple undyed linen shirt, brown leather trews and boots. She regretted not hearing the rest, but also knew no one gave such amounts for free. 
 The men tho happy were like herself uneasy about the gold they carried, what had he said “Lord of nothing”. Fallon got busy along with Maya they made repairs to the sail, checked ropes for ware, brought ale to the men finishing the caulking, and those on guard. She sent 2 men into town to buy a pig, roasting it that night well away from the dock. Skornsson knew something played her mind, sitting next to her upon the dry grass he filled her cup once more. “I saw 2 swans fly west in the late sun, it's an omen for sure” Fallon kept her gaze out toward WindDancer “Good or bad?” He laughed at that “That's a problem with omens, till something good or bad happens, who knows?” Fallon laughed at that in turn, but it was strained, she rested her head on his broad shoulder, this time watching Eolthwig give Helvar lessons in tying shoe laces. Skornsson refrained from the urge to place an arm about her, but with true tenderness asked “Fal, what ails you?” He looked at her when no reply came, she was asleep.

Fallon woke next morning to the sound of a horn, another longship coming into harbour. She found herself aboard WindDancer unusually and uncomfortably warm. Maya had slept next to her under the same blanket on her left and to her right tho under his own blanket lay Helvar. She got up and gently kicked Helvar awake, “Boy, light a fire and get some of that pig roasting. Maya…MAYA!” Maya jumped up out their bed “Sorry my lord, I’ll fetch water” Fallon stopped her leaving “ Why where you in my bed?” Maya looked at her with those dark dark eyes looking so sorrowful this morn “You have bad bad dreams lord, you cry out in your sleep, I stop them my lord. The boy also worried, so we sleep near to stay away spirits that bring such things” 
 A look of concern passed on Fallon’s face “Who else heard?” Maya took Fallon’s hand in almost a motherly way “None but us Lord” It was then Fallon remembered, she’d almost forgot with all that was on her mind. Reaching into a wooden chest by her usual rope seat she took out a golden arm ring, “Maya, this is sacred to us, it is part of a bond, your loyalty to me as my loyalty to you as a Lord. By accepting this you swear to follow me and my orders, and I promise to provide for and protect you. Once accepted it is for life, until one of us dies, do you understand?” Maya grabbed it and put it on “Yes lord” Maya then left for the well to fetch water, all the while smiling flashing her perfect white teeth admiring her arm ring. Helvar watched from a distance frowning. Mathew laughed at him saying “You’ll gets yours soon enough boy, now hurry and get that fire started” 
 The ship that had awoken her was now moored and unloading, Fallon could see Skornsson talking to its leader, plying him for news no doubt. It was a raider, a number of its crew were injured 3 seriously it seemed as they were carried off. It’s men looked tired, as Guthrum approached her “Lord, have you thought of the 2 weasels from yesterday?” Meaning Oswald and AElfrith. “Aye Guthrum I have. We shall prepare for them, send the boy with a message to meet here tonight. We shall listen then have the AllThing and decide our fate together” Guthrum momentarily held a small hammer about his neck “Our fates are sealed Lord, but out destiny is a misted fen” Fallon nodded “Maybe, but choices are our own. Tell me, how much did you over hear?” Guthrum couldn’t lie, never to Fallon “I like not this idea of Wessex, but I shall follow if that is decided” Just then another horn blew as another raider came into harbour. It listed badly, it’s mast had been hewn. It tipped and sank half a mile from safety, none swam ashore. 2 wherries set forth searching for survivors but mostly plunder, then clear any wreckage blocking the river.
 Fallon changed into her wool dress of green, with a tartan shawl for the wind blew chill and clouds looked angered. Stepping out onto the wooden dock she thought of taking some gold and buying Maya a dress rather than the short shift she had, also some decent footwear. Scissors too for Maya could cut hair and trim men’s beards. Before she got off the planking Scornsson met her with the other ships Chief. Skornsson introduced him as Tostig son of Jarl Longspear of Jutland. Tostig stood over 6ft tall, still a head shorter than Skornsson, wore a bearskin cloak over chain mail, black leather trews with high boots, the kind metal strips were sewn in. Blonde hair in a pony tail reaching down his back, clean shaven unusually, under his arm an iron helmet full faced its cheek straps inlaid with silver. With his free hand he took Fallon’s right hand and kissed it “The God’s have blessed me this day Lordlady “ She couldn’t help the smile escaping from her face “Thank you Tostig, are you here for the raids? Though I see you may have been successful already”
“Aye Lady, but Wessex is slim pickings now Alfred has built his burghs. I shall winter at Jorvik than abroad to Frisia, we mass to attack Paris again. Skornsson tells me you are as yet undecided?” It annoyed her that Skornsson had said such things, yet it was no secret.
Tostig not only beautiful but had an innocent charm, as the 3 of them walking into town she found herself completely disarmed by him, by the time they reached the market it was if they’d known each other for long time. His laugh came easily, as he made her laugh easily too it seemed. He also knew many of the traders by name, securing food and equipment for his ship at great discounts. Even managing to buy her dress at near cost, tho she never told him it was for Maya. Women blushed as they smiled at him, or he smiled at them with his sparkling blue eyes. Yet he was no fool. Behind that smile she knew lay a wolf. Nothing passed him as he constantly looked about, always aware. His sword was well worn as he took it to a smithy to be sharpened and its nicks beaten out. He also gave his mail to be scrubbed in sand, his torso wore a few scars. Again he flashed her a beaming mischievous smile as he caught her looking at his chest, hairless, youthful and muscular. It was then she noticed the cross about his neck “Your Christian!!” Tostig put it away under his shirt “Yes it’s why I raid, I have been disowned by my father, I’m here seeking men and gold to acquire land”
 She thought for a moment before saying “I too am seeking such land” Tostig nodded giving her that radiant smile once more “Then let’s raid and find it together. With 2 ships our successes would be a lot greater”
“How long before your ready to sail again?” She asked as he buttoned his shirt
“My ship is ready now, but I need crew, at least 15, I shall send men recruiting from the dock side Inns and Taverns tonight, drunk men are more agreeable” again that smile spread across his face.

Now Fallon's father took hold of her as her mind raced in thought, Fallon the young woman disappeared as she spoke “Tostig excuse us for a moment, think not I am being discourteous” He but bowed lightly turned and started flirting with the smithies daughter.
 Fallon stood close to Skornsson who sat on patiently upon a bench, in hushed tones she spoke “We are to meet the reeve tonight, I have been offered much land, enough for more than just us, if Tostig joined us, surely we could bargain for more, and be a more effective force?” Skornsson surprised of this new information, but hid it well, after all she was his Lord, she didn't have to tell him any of her plans. Yet not knowing till now pained his heart briefly, “Do you trust him? He could charm the birds from trees that one, I like him well enough. Fallon, do you think he would follow a woman? His pride I think would not allow it.”

She sat next to Skornsson upon the bench, watching Tostig now jesting with the smithy while his arm was around his daughter, a charmer he was. Fallon's thoughts now were more in tune with her fathers spirit, Fallon the girl had been put aside “ I need his ship and crew, I cannot take it by force, we'd lose to many men ourselves. He is a good and loved chief, gold will not buy his men. Also the land is Wessex land, with a stronger force we could bargain for Northumbrian or Mercian lands. My mind is made, we need Tostig.”
 She called to him, it pleased her greatly that Tostig stopped his jesting and came to her like a little puppy. Tostig saw a change in her eye, the beautiful young girl had gone, now a Valkyrie stared back at him, beautiful still, but business like and calculated. For the first time he'd met her, he saw the wolf within her, a big bad dangerous one he knew. Before she spoke Tostig drawn like a moth to a flame, knew with all his soul he would gladly burn. Fallon cut straight to the chase “Give me your ship, and I'll give you your land and title”
Tostig took a step back in shock but recovered as quickly “This should be discussed over ale not here, and I'll not listen without my men present, I keep no secrets from them”
Skornsson about to say something was silenced with Fallon placing her hand upon his chest as she continued “Nor I, and would not expect anything less, our crews will meet tonight, Jorviks reeve and Abbot will be present to discuss the details. However, we need to talk in private, there are details as in any bargain, I wish no surprises, this will be a partnership. Eat with me at noon, bring 3 of your most trusted, as will I”

Tostig spat in his hand as did Fallon and shook. As they walked back to the docks the easy laughter returned, her fathers spirit put away until later. They parted in good nature, but as Tostig neared his ship an uneasy feeling grew inside him, he touched his cross. Fallon, beautiful yes, but dangerous. She waved a power over men that she probably didn’t know herself. Tostig like most Viking Chiefs had never been a gambler, fight with the odds in your favour. But Tostig was young and the young didn’t fear death, he was eager for renown, for glory for gold. The shield walls had be silent these past years, he’d be raiding like many young warriors, but only in the shield wall could glory and honour be truly found. Fallon, maybe she was Valkyrie, her wiles could either raise men or put them asunder, either way one truth remained. Tostig would pay her price, be it gold or blood. Land meant life, land was wealth and power, land was all.

III

That noon as dark clouds gathered and rumblings distant two meetings took place. One aboard WindDancer it’s deck now covered in canvass for cover from rain and privacy. Tostig’s ship WaveBreaker had now been moved to WindDancers port side, lashed together as news of a possible joint raid spread among the crews.

The other was held in Jorviks keep, in a private annex Oswald used as an office. Sat around a large old table were Oswald, AElfrith and powerfully built man named Seigurn. Seigurn a Dane but also Christian was Oswald’s captain of guard, he kept his cross well hidden, for tho Christianity was tolerated for the sake of internal peace, no Dane could have position if baptised.

Oswald “So the boy has been sent, we meet in a few hours. Seigurn bring 50 armed men, hide them nearby as security of our safety, tho I think they shall not be needed.”

AElfrith “Precautions are wise in these times. Do you think the girl will agree? Or should we be prepared to barter?” They all spoke in hushed tones and wore strained faces. Fallon was surely a sign from God their righteous cause was now possible. Oswald thought for a moment drumming his fingers on the table “Yes we should. If it was I in her place I would want Northumbrian land, yet we have none to offer.”

“If she be successful, maybe Rome would accept gifting her Gustav’s lands to her, I know a persuasive Cardinal who has his ear” AElfrith would need church permission for this, however that packet of land was but 150 acres. Both Oswald and AElfrith would need something else entirely to dangle before her. Seigurn spoke up “This Lordlady be Mercian is she not? There is much disputed land there. With only your consent Abbot, you could offer the Wessex land to 4 or 5 Saxon Theigns in return for their Mercian ones. This will give you the acreage, she will be back home not Wessex, and if she proves troublesome be in easy reach of both Wessex and Danelaw to thrash her backside if needed”

Oswald looked impressed “It may work AElfrith, I say offer Wessex, then Mercia, for it would take time to secure that which we not yet have” The Abbot nodded agreement as their plans grew “Once Fallon has sailed, Seigurn should raid these Saxon lords, burn their halls and their agreements would be more forthcoming. It could also be seen along with our mission for this Lordlady as an insult to Alfred. How could he not stir from behind his walls at an affront so large?”

So all in accord they left. To meet again upon WindDancer. By then the rains came hard, the skies black and Thor danced about his anvil. For all then men upon WindDancers deck huddled under its canvass, this was not a good omen.

As Siegurn and his men took up positions hiding about deserted ships, Oswald and AElfrith were welcomed aboard Fallon’s ship by Tostig. As they sat under its canvas about a low table and barrels brought fourth specially for their AllThing, Oswald with note saw that Fallon and Tostig sat together as equals.

The crews crammed in to not only hear but keep out the rain, it stank under the canvass. Sweat, stale ale, damp, unwashed bodies, yet permeating thru all was a sweet odour of spices. Before any talk Maya brought in a large solid silver platter, upon which piled high were small. triangles of folded pastries, stuffed with meats and spices. Helvar followed her with a large pewter flaggon on fine red wine. The men of the ships however had nought but bread, cheese and ale.

AElfrith looked uneasy at the food, but filled his goblet happily enough. Fallon spoke first “So now we are massed, may I introduce Tostig Longspear of Kopingsvik, he is here as equal partner at my request.”

Oswald had pre guessed this, there was no surprise on his face “The price we offer will remain the same, how you choose to share it be your affair.”

Tostig spoke next, the surrounding men began muttering among themselves when he finished “The payment so vast, over 400 acres of good lands I hear? Nothing given is free, so the price you ask of us must be great?”

AElfrith stopped his picking of Maya’s food and looked toward Oswald “Tis time for truths to be unveiled” Oswald nodded, looking directly at Fallon “You serve no Lord, sworn failty to no King, so Tis to you we come, knowing you be neither Saxon nor Dane. So we come to offer you much for we ask so much. Übber is quiet, his army spread raiding while all is quiet. AEthlred sits with his army intact behind his walls and does nothing. He could strike now and unite the land. England under one crown is our desire, and the good Aethlred to wear it.”

Tostig about to rise was stopped by Skornsson stood behind him with a gentle but firm hand. Fallon stared at both Oswald and Aelrith for the longest moment “It surely is a big task. Yet half my crew and all Tostig’s be Dane…” Oswald cut her off “Dane or no, what matter is it if ye posses no land to call your own? Naught but pirates and raiders, living off stolen scraps” Oswald then turned to Tostig “Aye, I know I ask much, and after I bestow much honour upon you I ask no more, if war comes you may stand in Ubber’s wall. None would think less. Only one truth matters, will you die a Lord or pauper?”

Fallon now rose and filled her goblet with wine, again Oswald noticed how she also filled Tostig’s, so it seemed to him that Fallon was try to placate Tostig, which would mean the girl is interested, it all hinged on Tostig.

As Fallon sat down handing Tostig his cup she turned to Skornsson “Sit by me, I need your council to” He sat, still taller. over some still standing. Fallon continued “So, tell us of what need you have of me and mine”

AElfrith took up “We wish to prod the hornets nest. Our men shall raid into Mercia against Saxon lords serving AEthelred, as Danes. You will strike that which Alfred holds dear. The abbey of Saint Etheldreda on the isle of Ely in the Fenlands. These two affronts Alfred cannot ignore, he will march while Ubba is unready.”

Tostig laughed harshly “You would slaughter your own, while blaming others? What is your price Abbot, 30 pieces of silver?” Oswald stepped in “Sometimes we all must do a little evil for a greater good, Tis no more than casting out a leper or the plagued to save the more”

Tostig’s anger shone through, his face reddened and his fists clenched upon the table. Fallon placed her hand over them, and he sighed giving out a long breath.

Skornsson now spoke for the first time “These fens are hard to sail, misted and full of spirits, we shall need a guide. I also see that even if we be successful, no Saxon will tolerate a Dane on Wessex soil. Your reward is worthless, none here would be safe in those lands.”

Fallon “He speaks truth. We want Northumbrian land of the same size. This is non negotiable” AElfrith waved to Oswald to carry on. Oswald placed his hands flat on the table, an open gesture “We have none to give, however, we may be able to gift you Mercian lands up to about the same acreage.” Fallon was quick to see it “Hence your raids into AEthelred lands. You hope to usurp the Saxon lords there, offer them Wessex so then free to give us those they held. I shall be in a noose that either Wessex or Danelaw could pull”

Tostig stood “Northumbria or nothing, for me this meeting be over. I shall meet again if the offer improves” with that he bowed slightly to Fallon and left with his crew. Though his parting strained those at table, both crews parted in friendship.

Fallon stood next “You need Danes for your ventures Oswald, the price they ask is fair, offer Tostig Gustav’s lands, I will take Mercian lands of my choosing, my fathers lands. For they are close to Danelaw and defensible from Wessex.”

As all now stood Oswald shook Fallon’s hand, “We shall work for these lands, but time is short. Northumbria will take some time but I feel possible. Mercia will be difficult, I shall sleep on it and see what can be done.”

Skornsson spoke last “With Tostig and your men with my Lordlady’s, we could take it”

The meet was over, men went off in 2s 3s and 4s talking of how this plan could work or not. Fallon boarded WaveBreaker and found Tostig drinking with some of his men. She sat uninvited next to him and Tostig poured her a cup of mead. Fallon was tired, her head spun though not of drink “I wish to gut that bloated pig of a holy man. Tostig, what should we do? Leave and go raiding, maybe Paris as you say? Whispers in the dark are not good omens”

Without thinking Tostig put his arm around her and pulled her close, she accepted and rested her head upon his shoulder, “Aye girl, it is not, they blow a foul wind. Yet they have the land we both long for, maybe Mercia could work?” With her eyes closed just before sleep took hold “My fathers lands are good, near Lichfield on the river Trent. Good farming and woodland, he was a good Lord my father, he…” She stopped and said no more. Tostig never pressed her to. He held her while she slept until Maya came for her Lord and to see that all was well. Waking her from her slumbers Maya took her back to her own ship. Next morning Fallon woke with a fire in her eyes.

IIII

Tostig was risen by Helvar shaking him awake. “Lord, my Lordlady wishes you to break your fast with her in the Haven inn upon the docks” Tostig rose and threw water over his face. Looking over to the WindDancer he saw Fallon’s men readying her for sail. His own were also watching. Denveg, Tostig’s own man drew up alongside him, handing him a wooden mug of ale “Lord, what is this?” In one gulp Tostig emptied the mug, wiped his hand over his mouth “Lord or Odin knows, come let us find out. And bring some gold we shall send meat back from the Haven.”

Fallon sat on a bench with Skornsson on her right, sat upon her left was Guthrum then Mathew. The bench opposite lay empty. Tostig sat upon it, Denveg to his left. Tostig spoke first “I see from your face you have come to a decision” Mathew filled the newcomers cups from an ornate glazed clay flagon. Fallon again dressed in her green simple wool dress, reached into a deep pocket pulling out a map, inked upon a sheepskin. Unfurled upon the table it showed Britain Ireland the outlined coast of Frisia then south toward Cordova.

Fallon spoke with a firm but soft voice “We shall never get the lands promised. If we do we shall never keep them. AEthelred will never march from his burghs, his Fyrd could never match spear or sword Danes trained for the shield wall. He is stronger where he is” Tostig argued in turn “Yet we are weak, most our good men are raiding. He’d be a fool not to strike.” Fallon moved around the table sitting next to Tostig upon his right. Skornsson suppressed once more his jealousy, yet Denveg caught the look upon his eyes. Denveg noted it. Fallon with a hand on Tostig’s shoulder the other upon the map “Most of Ubba’s men are fighting in Ireland, they could be in Mercia or on its border within a week. AEthelred would have but two days at most to prepare defences, if the Mercian Dane lords submit or lost so easily. Ubba would win in open war, AEthelred for all his want of a one kingdom would not risk his army. And when Ubba finds out why he had to come back, and he will, what will happen to Oswald? In turn, then to us and ours?”

Tostig leaned back, turning to his own man at table “Denveg, fetch Magnuss I wish his council on this” He spoke to them all at table “Magnuss is our oldest crew, fifty five, he has sailed further than all I know, and fought in three shield walls, one against AEthelred himself” Turning to Fallon, whose hand still rested upon his shoulder, the warmth of it seemed to penetrate his whole being. Tostig was torn. His mind said break away from this ill conceived alliance headed by viperous men. Yet his heart ached for this girl warrior, this Valkrie, his head span in her wine.

It was in his pause that she caught his eye, they locked so briefly, it was within that moment as she gave him but a mere hint of a smile, Tostig knew his fate. Fallon would be the death of him, and he accepted it gladly. Tostig continued “So, what is your thoughts Lordlady , it seems this game of Hnefatafl of ours has become a draw?”

As Magnuss entered, though for his years he seemed still powerful and unbent with age, his hair and beard still thick, but as white as the first mountain snows. He wore a black bear skin, killed by his own hands, as the bear claws he wore suggested. His arm rings were many, most given by now long dead lords. Blue dot tattoos however, had been marked upon his elbow joints, Fallon thought his ankles and knee joints would be marked too, magic to stay away constant pains that came with age. As Magnus sat she also saw each of his swollen knuckles had the same blue dots on each, this man should have gone to Valhalla long ago she thought, and hoped he’d be blessed soon enough.

Fallon resumed their small AllThing “We need a third ship and crew, I say one of us will sail to Annagassan to burn Ubba’s fleet, or some to slow him down. Erstwhile, two will sail to this holy place and raise it to the ground, but then go deeper and burn all before us. Tostig, as a Christian along with the fifteen Christians of my own will split from us.” Now the shock that stunned all “I wish you all turn traitor upon us. Spread lies to our enemies, tell the Saxons of Ubba’s delay, how weak Danelaw stands. Only then will AEthelred march upon Mercia. If AEthelred wins, we have his protection under Tostig, if Ubba wins we have his protection through Oswald. This is my proposal”

Silence followed, then all tried speaking at once. Skornsson called them to quiet. But it was Magnus who spoke first “Timing. Timing will be our enemy or ally. Strike Ubba to early, it will only be a delay, too late and AEthelred will not march.”

Skornsson nodded his agreement. Fallon looked questionably at her most loyal man as Tosig explained “Magnus speaks true Fallon. If Ubba is attacked too early, he will have time to build and strike before winter. AEthelred needs at least five or six weeks to prepare, march and fight. If we wait to long, winter will halt any campaign before it begins.”

Fallon “So what is to be done?”

Magnus, doubted this child from the start, women should bare children and spin wool, but he was warming to her, slowly. He still could not think of her as an equal in terms of going Viking or as war Chief, but her plan could work. “Lady Hedriks-Dotter, the Irish Sea is a rough sea, that bitch Ran rules there with a fearsome temper. Late August to burn a fleet, and with luck sail back. The Wessex raids must start earlier than that, to be seen as more than a nuisance, to be captured then to persuade the slow mistrustful minds of Saxon Thegns into stirring from their walls.” Skornsson picked up as Magnus started coughing and took ale “Also we need that third ship and crew, tis dangerous to bring strangers into our fold now. Where to get a ship is easy, we all have gold aplenty, but a crew? “

Fallon looked crestfallen, it was becoming a logistical nightmare. “I will buy the ship, this be felled to me, it should be I who bares the expense of this venture. Yes gold I have, Eolthwig can find a ship, yet would be easier to find a Warlord with his own and crew.”

The sun was past the noon hour when they left the Haven. Fallon felt the whole idea now almost impossible. She and Tostig walked together, Skornsson stayed with Magnus telling tales of older better times while supping the Havens wares.

Mathew and Denveg argued religion, ending up with both sporting black eyes. Forgotten not long later as they laughed and joked that evening together over bread and mead.

Maya pampered Fallon once more, braiding her hair. Tostig sat alone in deep thoughts, alone in a small chapel he wrestled with his conscience. Since meeting Fallon he had not prayed, this night though sat under the gaze of Christ, he still did not. He feared his Gods disapproval. His only promise, if he be successful, if he be deemed worthy, Tostig would build a great church on his lands. To convert as many Danes as he could toward the one true light.

Maya, dressed her Lord ready for bed, “Lord-lady, you are silent this night” Fallon sighed “ This venture will not work, I have mind would be easier to warn Ubba of plots against him, and accept any reward he may bestow. Maya, I need land. My men need a home and wives, farms to tend. I am the ring and gold giver, I am supposed to be their protector, and I be failing with each day.”

Maya lay her down upon the WindDancers deck, joined her under the blanket and soothed the girl to sleep. Men laughed in the darkness, torches burned, water lapped the wooden hull, it was a starlit calm beautiful night, yet the atmosphere for all that lay heavy. Oswald and AElfrith would soon want action, all knew too much now, yet now none seemed to know what to really do. Jorvik was becoming a noose.

Fallon found herself sat next to Skornsson next morning upon the banks of a lazy Ouse. “Today we decide, to carry on or leave Jorvik. Be ready to leave, tell the men” Skornsson was not displeased at this, it would be good to be at sea once more. “Where would we go? Fal, we should just take what we want, and what of Tostig? Remember for all his good qualities, he is still a Christian”

This annoyed her, but she hid it “I shall speak with him, let fate decide that course. I need to feel the waves again. Oswald will want answers and action very soon, we are but flies in his web. We still have our gold to protect. There are many isles off the Pictlands, we head there and bury our gold. Then we can go west to Ireland an fight and raid. Or head back to raid Frisia. I have in mind to use our gold to buy men, and retake my Mercian lands ourselves. But how long will that gold last, hired men will leave an we few will lose it all over again? Skornsson, tis but circles and circles, drifting with no direction, so I shall roll fates dice to the winds.”

Skornsson huge arms took Fallon into his bear like chest, it was good to have her there. She was safe there. “Magnus tells me of lands far far to the south. Past Cordova. Lands that are so hot the very ground burns a mans feet. But within a secret sea that has no tide there is a river, it’s banks so lush and green the Giants went there too. Stone buildings even higher than here guard its mouth. Magnus says there are tales that this river is so long, it’s lands so strange, and is the land of Maya’s people. While the shield walls are silent there is no honour here. Lets find these lands and carve our own honour. I wish not to be as Magnus, so old he worries Vahalla is closed to him.”

Fallon was quite for a long time before speaking, she rested contentedly against his chest, ensnared in his arms, yet her thoughts turned to Tostig. She knew all fates were written, her destiny obviously did not lay in these lands. She had ignored the Gods for so long, maybe they were punishing her or pushing her towards that destiny she seeked. Finally she spoke “My loyalist of friends, if that is your wish, then we shall sail for these lands. Tis time I listened rather than decide, you who have never wronged me. My choices have led to nought but ruin.” She turned and while on her knees gave him a warm and not brief embrace.

Skornsson knew she saw him as a more fatherly figure, it did not stop his yearning for her. He sat a while longer when she had gone, waiting for his erection to subside. He asked Freyja for guidance before setting off to prepare WindDancer and her crew.

Tostig watched her walking toward the dock, her stride long but not in haste. She now wore her leather trews, boots and jacket all in black. Hair braids bouncing with every step, her contrasting porcelain skinned face, she looked a striking figure. She boarded WaveBreaker, walking straight up to Tostig, she grabbed him, pinned him up against the mast and kissed him. Tostig grabbed her arms turned her around, now she against the mast, he kissed her back. Privacy aboard was given them, as men respectfully moved away.

Denveg watched Skornsson slip away toward the Inn. He saw the hatred within his eyes, the fire that burn slowly in the hearts of men possessed by the green demon. Denveg worried not about the fall out that must surely come, but he did worry if the aftermath was not to be in his favour. This ship and crew like most were all he had. Tostig had been a good Lord to them all, he owed Tostig his loyalty. So his next chance, he’d bring all he saw to Tostig. Forewarned is forearmed.

Their rutting had been explosive, and over rather quickly, an urgent need all but sated. After, they had talked or Fallon had as Tostig listened. He had no answers for her, his crew would decide together. Right now, he enjoyed her once more, slowly, wanting it to last. He knew he wouldn’t leave her side. Yet she angered him, placing him in this impossible predicament. He could lose his crew, though not his ship, but what use a ship without a crew? She moaned as his strokes became longer, harder and deeper. Her nails dug into his back as her thighs tightened around him. Finally collapsing together.

They dressed in silence, men of both ships now waited upon the WindDancer. None looked in good humour. They stepped together upon her deck, plans discussed turned to bitter arguments, but none had answers either. Fallon stood upon a barrel, “WindDancer sails tonight, sailing into the unknown, to adventure, to fortune or Valhalla. Yes the Saxons have offered land, but payment to dishonour our ancestors as we betray our own!! And little chance of success.” She paused letting it sink in. “Or we can achieve fame and glory, landless as we are. Expanding to new horizons, new trade, new lands to conquer and call our own. I say this is our destiny, the Gods have shown us we are not welcome here”

Guthram stood “I for one am glad to not be followed this Saxon plan. Yet I have no wish to flounder on the seas to southron lands in only hope. I say let us away to Paris, join with our brothers, get fat and rich on Frankish gold and blood”

Skornsson already standing against his tiller stepped forward “All men know that I go where our LordLady will. And I know there is no fighting in Paris, our armies camp for weeks and do nothing until Paris starves and pays them the Danegeld. It is not a glorious war, I say to these new lands we follow the coast, raid and trade as we journey on.”

Fallon turned to Mathew “ Mathew, what say you? Speak your mind freely”

Nervously he stood, he sat with the other mostly Saxon crew members, fifteen Christians in all three were Norse “My LordLady, I cannot speak for my other Saxon brothers, but I say lets go to these lands of Maya. Let others squabble and fight over AEthelred’s and Ubba’s scraps of land and gold. We have overcome much these years together. Yet though we are not idle men, our rewards have been few. Stay or go to Paris, what then? We would still be landless or dead without name. I follow Fallon.”

Fallon now confident “Then it is decided, we will away to Frisia, raiding and trading. Any who wishes to leave my side my do so without dishonour, but leave now” There was much fidgeting among WindDancers crew, but none left. Fallon stood down and sat with her men as now Tostig took the barrel.

This was his moment, the one he had dreaded but he gained strength from Fallon, he felt almost as roused as her crew “Men, you’ve heard what has been said. And quite literally find ourselves in the same boat. I also go with Fallon. And also offer the same terms, stay or go with honour intact.”

Denveg stood “Lord, I have followed you without question these last years. We have raided, we have had wealth. Yet none have seen the shield wall. My lord, I shall take leave to Wexford, for I fear of never reaching the feast halls, eternity in Hel’s realm to be drowned by Ran is a fear I choose not .” With that Denveg along with six others left after collecting their belongings from WaveBreaker.

At midnight, in silence two longships slipped from their moorings into the Ouse.

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