The Exploits of Ragnar Lodbrok, Part 2

This man is fortunate who can get for himself

praise and goodwill;

very difficult it is when a man lays claim

to what’s in another’s heart.

(The Poetic Edda. Verse 8)

Part two  

It was only when Earl Guthorm cleared his throat that Ragnar noticed someone had come into the hall. He looked up and gave the earl an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I was lost in thoughts.”

     Guthorm walked over to Ragnar and sat down next to him on the bench. Ragnar had been sitting there staring into the flames on the hearth for the last hour or so letting his thoughts wander freely. “You’ve been so quiet lately, King Ragnar,” the earl said. “What’s troubling you?”

     Ragnar debated with himself if he should confide in the earl. Over the last many months he had developed a deep respect for him. He was a highly intelligent and pragmatic man. Just the other day Ingvar had said with a wry smile that Guthorm was the ideal counterbalance to Ragnar’s often impetuous and over zealous ways. Ragnar was still not sure how he should judge this remark from his best friend. Would Guthorm find Ragnar weak and uncommitted to the immense responsibility that was now his if he confided in him? He decided to risk the earl’s disdain. 

     “Now don’t get me wrong, Earl Guthorm, I’ve come to love Denmark. It’s a pleasant enough country. The forests are lush, the beaches unrivalled and the weather…” Ragnar shrugged, “well, of course the weather could be better, but I’ve grown used to it by now.” He got up from the bench and with his hands clasped behind his back began pacing the floor. He stopped abruptly in front of Guthorm. However much he tried he couldn’t muster much of a smile. “I don’t think I’m cut out to be king. I’m tired of the endless meetings and the placating of egos. I so long to feel the deck of a ship underneath my feet again and yearn for the sight of foreign lands.” There he had said it. Come what must come, he thought as he keenly observed Guthorm who sat there contemplating what Ragnar had just told him. His expression certainly didn’t give any indications of his feelings. 

     Guthorm finally took a deep breath and looked up at Ragnar. “I think that what you need at present is a break from your duties,” he said, his voice not carrying any hint of disdain. “Why don’t you outfit a couple of ships and take your leave for a while. It’ll give you a new perspective on things.” He shook his head at Ragnar when he saw he was about to object. “No, you go, King Ragnar,” he said. “I’ll take care of state matters in the meantime.”

     “Thank you,” Ragnar said, already feeling his spirits lift.

***

Ingvar came up to Ragnar who was sitting in the stern of the ship devouring the last of his meal, a sorry fare of dried fish and stale bread. They were fast running out of provisions. Days of pounding rain had made landfall futile since they would have trouble starting fires, much less maintaining them, and if they didn’t have fires it didn’t make sense to hunt because they wouldn’t be able to cook their kill.

     Ragnar was staring dismally in front of him as he tore at the fish with his strong teeth. He chewed for a moment then spat the mouthful out on the deck in disgust. The ship’s dog quickly pounced on it and quickly devoured it. 

     “Rain, rain and more rain,” Ragnar sputtered. “I feel like I’ve rotted to the core.” He looked up at Ingvar. “In Thor’s name, this is July.” He shook his head. “We should have gone to Hellespont, but no everyone said, go north because it’s so lovely in the summer,” he mimicked. His shoulders sagged underneath his heavy woollen cloak. 

     Ingvar was not in a mood to argue and really what was there to argue about. Any place would have been better than this. Truth be told he felt even worse about their situation than Ragnar. After all he was the one who had left a beautiful and eager new bride behind to join this ill-fated expedition. “What a waste,” he mumbled as he peered through the sheet of rain in front of him toward land. “Is it me or does the coast look more and more foreboding for each day that goes by,” he said. “Why don’t we just head south again. It serves absolutely no purpose to continue.”

     Ragnar shrugged. “Suits me fine.” He turned to Sejr, the older stout Norseman who was tending the rudder. “You heard him, let’s turn this ship around and head south,” he said getting up from the overturned box he had been sitting on.

     Sejr grumbled his agreement. Following Ragnar’s instructions he began altering their course. 

    Egil and Ketil, the two men in charge of the provisions on the ship, got up from their rowing benches and approached the small group around the rudder. They were twins with hair so red that if they stood in the sun the reflections in their locks blinded people. At this point, however, they looked as drab and dull as the rest of the crew. 

     Egil caught a drip of water from his nose with his tongue as they stopped in front of Ragnar. “Ketil has spotted a dwelling, right up there.” He turned and pointed towards shore.

      Ingvar scanned the rugged coastline. Because of the downpour it took him a while to spot the small house the twins were talking about. Its log walls looked as grey as the rain pouring down around them.

     He nudged Ragnar with his elbow and pointed. “Up there, Ragnar.”

     Ragnar at last caught sight of house and nodded. “I see it now.” He looked back at Egil. “So there’s a house up there. So what?”

     “Maybe they can supply us with food.” Egil said with anticipation. “Something else than dried fish and stale bread.” Ketil eagerly nodded his agreement.

      Ragnar didn’t look all that excited about the prospect. “Judging from the size of that place only poor folk live there who probably can’t even feed themselves.” He frowned at Egil. “Why bother?”

     The twins exchanged a disappointed glance, then Egil’s eyes brightened. “But King Ragnar, they…they most certainly have a hearth.” In his eagerness the words were stumbling over each other. “We could bring our flour up there and we could at least bake some bread.”

     The thought of fresh-baked bread made Ingvar’s mouth water. “Let’s do it,” he blurted out before Ragnar had time to respond. Realizing his gaffe he gave Ragnar a quick apologetic smile. “That is, of course, if you want to.”

      “Oh, why not,” Ragnar sighed.

***

Kraka pushed the hood on her cloak back on her head. She stared through the rain across the grey waters of the ocean. No, her eyes had not deceived her. There were indeed ships down there. Three of them. She stood for a while watching while the rain coursed down her face, now and then wiping water from her eyes with the back of her hand. With mounting excitement she realized that the ships weren’t moving. They had cast anchor.

     She turned and clambered down the bluff toward the stony beach. Above her she heard the sheep protest loudly over her sudden disappearance. When she looked up the biggest ram, Stroud, was looking accusingly down at her.

    When she reached the beach she slipped behind a big rock. Peering around it she saw two men jump over the railing of the closest ship and wade through the water to shore. They were much younger men than her uncle Aki. Kraka had never seen young men before and was fascinated by their broad shoulders and the smoothness of their features. As a matter of fact she was so mesmerized by them that she barely managed to pull her head behind the rock again when one of the men looked in her direction. “What a forsaken place this is,” she heard him say.

     When she peeked over the rock again she saw the other man nod. “How anyone could even consider settling here is beyond me.”

     Kraka watched as the men climbed the bluff toward the house, then turned her attention to the ships again. She caught sight of a figure standing at the bow of the nearest vessel. Even from this distance she could see that he was exceedingly handsome. She felt giddy. This was by far the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her.

***  

Egil knocked on the door to the small house. The rain water pelting onto the roof cascaded over the eaves leaving the twins even more soaked than they already were. He prayed that the flour in the two sacks he and Ketil carried wouldn’t get wet.

     “Who’s there?” The voice answering from the inside was female and suspicious.

     Egil exchanged a quick glance with his brother, then cleared his throat. “People in need of your help,” he yelled. He waited for the door to open, but it soon became clear that this was not going to happen. With his shoulder he pushed hard against the door but found it barred. 

      Egil had just about lost his patience so it was with great effort that he still managed to keep his voice friendly when he spoke. “I assure you, mistress, that we only come with good intentions. We have three ships anchored below you and we’re running out of foodstuff and we…”

     “We’ve nothing here to give you. We’re poor people.” The loudness of the voice startled Egil and he realized that the woman on the other side must have put her face close to where his ear was pressed against the door.

     “We only ask for the use of your fire,” he assured her. “We brought our own flour so we can bake some bread.”

     There was silence from the other side for a while before Egil heard the woman jiggle with the bar. She stopped all of a sudden. “How do I know that you’re not trying to trick me?”

      Egil rolled his eyes at his brother before he answered. “We’re honourable folk. King Ragnar Lodbrok is our leader and his reputation is beyond reproach.”

    “I’ve heard of Ragnar Lodbrok,” the woman said. “He’s a known troublemaker and what is a king doing up here when he has a kingdom to tend to?”

      Egil thought fast. “He’s on his way to visit Earl Helgi, but the weather turned against us. We’re fast running out of provisions. I assure you that King Ragnar Lodbrok will amply reward you for your troubles.”

     “Will he?” Ketil mouthed.

     Egil shrugged, then grinned at his brother when he heard the bar across the door being pushed all the way back. The door opened slowly and a short hunchbacked woman peered out at them. Her hair aside from being stringy and dirty was sparse and grey. She contemplated the men with nearsighted eyes before she stepped aside to let them by. “You’re twins?”

     Egil nodded at his brother. “He’s Ketil.”

     Ketil smiled at the old woman.

     “And I’m Egil,” Egil added.

     The woman muttered something underneath her breath as she closed the door behind them. She turned to Egil again. “You’ve red hair, both of you.” 

     Egil and Ketil put the heavy sacks of flour down on the earthen floor. “So we do.” He was beginning to wonder if the woman’s mind might not be somewhat impeded.

      “Red hair is a bad omen around these parts,” she said. “Ivar Horvi down by the lake killed one of his young ones when he realized the boy was going to have red hair.”

     Egil chuckled. “Well, I guess we must be grateful then that we were not born in these parts.”

     Ketil began chuckling too.

     The old woman obviously didn’t think it was funny as she, after giving them a disapproving look, went over to the hearth where a fire was burning brightly. She turned her disfigured back to them. “My name is Old Grima,” she informed them. “I have no last name since I don’t know who my father is.”

      Egil wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with this information, so he kept quiet. 

      “My husband is called Aki Thorson,” the old woman continued. She turned and looked at Egil. “He’s with a neighbour right now.”

     Egil nodded.

     “Unlike me, Aki feels lonesome up here at times. I on the other hand do not much like having  people around.” She seemed proud of this fact. “It is much too…”

     Egil, who was now afraid that the old woman was about to embark on a long narrative of her life and no doubt dismal circumstances, quickly interrupted her. “Maybe you’ll be so kind as to bake us some bread with the flour we brought.

    “How many men are we talking about?”

     “About a hundred,” Egil said.

     Old Grima snorted in disdain. “You want me to bake bread for a hundred men. Men that are not my kin. Men I’ve never laid eyes on.” She shook her head at him. “I might be of modest means, but I’m no fool.” She pointed to the fire on the hearth. “You can have the use of that. Imagine trying to take advantage of and old, feeble woman. Shame on you.”

Her gaze darted to the door. “Kraka, what are you doing here this time of day? Who’s tending to the sheep?”

     With his hand on the hilt of his sword Egil turned quickly and saw a hooded individual standing in the door opening. Kraka was such an odd name that he was not sure if he was faced with a man or a woman. That’s until the person swept the hood back from her head and revealed a beautiful young woman with large and intense blue eyes. Egil felt himself grow hot at the sight of her.

     An audible sigh escaped from Ketil who was standing next to him.

     “I’ll help you with the bread,” the young woman said as she closed the door behind her. 

     “Kraka, I asked you about the sheep,” Old Grima insisted.

     “They won’t be straying in this rain.” Kraka removed her cloak. Underneath it she was dressed in men’s clothing with thick grey woollen breeches and a oversized matching tunic which was gathered at the waist with a plain rope. This cumbersome clothes, however, did not hide the feminine soft curves of her body. 

     Egil felt himself grow even hotter. With horror he realized that he had a full-blown erection. He only hoped that the cloak he was wearing would hide this fact. He quickly turned away when Kraka walked towards him.

      She stopped right behind him. “Give me the flour so I can start baking,” she said.

      “I’ll…I’ll bring it over to the hearth, it’s heavy,” he stammered, still with his back to her. He flashed an embarrassed smile at Ketil, only to discover that his brother was totally under Kraka’s spell,  his eyes riveted on her.

     Kraka walked around him and continued to the hearth.

     Egil turned and picked up the heavy sack of flour. At least the sack was hiding his erection as he brought it to her.

      Grima walked up to Kraka so they stood face to face. “You don’t owe these strangers your services.” She shook a crooked finger at the young woman. “We’re not their servant.”

      Kraka stared undauntedly back at the old woman. “Aunt Grima, I’m doing this because I want to.” She smiled broadly at Egil with flawless white teeth. “I rarely have company around here, except for my aunt and uncle of course.”

      Blushing furiously, Egil put the flour down on the floor next to the hearth. “As I just told your aunt we’ll make sure that you’re compensated for your trouble.”

      She was shaking her head when he looked at her. “No need. I’m just grateful for the company.”

     “Now don’t be so hasty.” In her frustration Old Grima had closed her claw-like hand around Kraka’s wrist.

     The young woman wrested her hand from her grip. “Why don’t you offer our guests some ale while I prepare the dough.”

     “You uncle wouldn’t like that.”

     “He just got a new supply,” Kraka said. “He can afford to be generous with it.”

     Old Grima mumbled something that sounded very unfriendly as she shuffled to a big wooden barrel standing in the corner of the room next to a cupboard. She picked a ladle from among other kitchen utensils hanging on the wall above the cupboard and pried the lid off the barrel. She put it on top of the cupboard, pulled a clay mug from a shelf next to the barrel and ladled some ale into it, careful not spill a single drop. She filled another mug.

     Egil and his brother thanked her profusely as she came over to them, giving each of them a mug.

     Sipping from his ale, which he had to admit was some of the best he had ever tasted, Egil watched Kraka as she poured flour, some salt and water in wooden barrel, rolled up her sleeve and began mixing it with her hand while now and then adding some more flour. Even this most basic task was done with such graceful movements that it was a pleasure to watch. 

     “How can a family as plain as yours, Old Grima, produce such an exquisite creature?” Ketil asked the old woman, giving a nod towards Kraka. 

     Egil almost choked on his ale. Ketil had a tendency to shoot off his mouth before he thought it through, but this was outright stupid. They could hardly afford to insult the woman.

     As was to be expected Grima looked none too happy about the question. “How could you possibly know what I looked like in my younger years,” she snapped.

     Ketil inclined his head towards Kraka. “Probably not anything like her.”

     “Shut up, you oaf,” Egil shouted at him.

     Ketil gave his brother a surprised look. “I was only pointing out the obvious.”

       “Showing some tact wouldn’t be entirely unwelcome,” Egil hissed at him.

      Old Grima nodded with a stern expression on her wrinkled face. “It’s hard to believe that you two are twins.” This time she pointed her bony finger at Ketil. “You could learn a lesson or two about good manners from you brother, young man.”

     Egil’s gaze wandered to Kraka. His knees went soft when she smiled at him, and he had to take a large swill of his ale to steady himself.

***

Ragnar looked out from underneath the fur cover he had pulled over his head.  He was relieved to discover that the drenching rain had finally stopped. Only the occasional drop would now and then splash onto the deck of the ship. The grey pall of the late afternoon, however, showed no sign of dispersing. With an exasperated sigh, he pushed the cover aside and with his foot prodded the sleeping form next to him.

     Ingvar pulled his cover away from his face and peered up at Ragnar. “What?” he asked, obviously not thrilled about having been woken up.

     “The rain has stopped.” Ragnar folded up his fur cover and put it underneath a rowing bench.

     The crew, having been rendered inactive for too many days and nights, began to stir around them. Wary glances wandered toward the leaden sky, hoping for a small break in the clouds that would signal a possible end to their rain soaked misery.

     Ragnar got up from the rowing bench and stretched. He walked over to the railing and stared toward the house on top of the bluff. He turned his head and looked at Ingvar, who was yawning so widely you could see most of his teeth. “What’s taking the twins so long? It must have been hours now.”

     Ingvar got up and arched his back. “It takes time to bake so much bread.”

     Ragnar smiled wryly. “Most likely those two are enjoying a warm fire and pleasant company.”

     “A warm fire, probably,” Ingvar said. “Pleasant company, I doubt it. The folks living in that wretched dwelling probably live a quiet and tedious existence and are therefore most likely not very interesting company.”

     Ragnar shrugged. “Maybe, but as things stand even an evening spent in a shack with dull peasants sounds enticing to me.”

     Ingvar came over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re beginning to sound desperate, my friend.”

     “I miss Erik and Agnar.”

      Ingvar chuckled at this. “Now I know that you’re beyond desperate,” he said as he let go of Ragnar.

     The remark made Ragnar smile. He loved his two sons dearly, but their constant pranks drove him mad. “If truth be told, Ingvar, this trip is not the diversion I had hoped for. I don’t handle boredom all that well. Being king I found quite boring and being up here is definitely boring. Just being me is beyond boring.” He clasped his hands around the railing and stared up at the house again. “I think I’m depressed.”

     “Maybe what you need is a wife.”

     Ragnar shook his head at Ingvar. “I swore to myself that I would never again marry after Thora passed.” 

     “It was an oath made in grief,” Ingvar said. “Thora is no more, but you’re still alive and a man in his prime has needs.”

     Ragnar looked at Ingvar with pride. “I’ve always had my needs met in that regard.”

     “I don’t mean needs that over and done with in a couple of minutes.”

     Ragnar let go of the railing and squared his shoulders. “I can assure you that I take longer than that. The women I bed have never complained,” he added with pride.

     Ingvar gazed solemnly at him. “I’m talking about the loving commitment of one woman.

     Ragnar shook his head stubbornly. “I could never hope to find someone like my Thora.”

     “I’m sure you can find another woman you can be just as happy with, but in a different way,” Ingvar said.

     “And where would I find this wondrous woman.” Ragnar made a sweeping gesture with his hand toward the house. “Up there?”

      “No, of course not, but you have a whole kingdom full of desirable, eligible women.” He playfully prodded Ragnar in the side with his elbow. “Give it a try when we come back. It worked for me.”

      Ragnar snorted disdainfully as he looked towards the coastline again. “Oh, there they finally are, those two sluggards.” He and Ingvar watched as the twins waded through the water toward the ship, each of them with a bundle held high over their head so as not to get them wet. 

     “What took you so long?” Ragnar asked the two when they reached the ship. Behind him he could hear the commotion from the men when they realized that the long awaited bread had arrived at last.

    Neither of the twins answered Ragnar. They seemed strangely agitated as they handed their bundles to Ragnar and Ingvar and climbed over the railing. 

     Ragnar knelt down next to one of the bundles and loosened the knot holding it together opening it. He looked down at the content. “Are these all the breads you made?” He asked in dismay as he looked up at Egil.

     Egil shook his head. His words stumbled over each other as he answered. “There…there are more up…up there at the house.” He exchanged and eager glance with his brother. “We…we’ll go up there right now, King Ragnar, and get the rest.” 

      Ketil nodded eagerly. “We would love to go.”

     Ragnar eyed them both suspiciously. They were both young and strong men and could most certainly have carried all the bread in one go. Why were they so eager to return? The prospect of a warm fire didn’t quite explain their strange fidgeting around. Ketil, especially, was not usually one to overexert himself. He was always the last one to get going in the morning. He frowned at Egil. “What are you two up to?”

     Egil exchanged another glance with his brother. He was blushing when he answered Ragnar. “There…there’s a young woman up at the cabin, who’s…” He seemed at a loss for words to adequately describe her.

    “She’s beautiful,” Ketil said with a long sigh. “Very beautiful.”

    Egil’s gaze had taken on a dreamy expression. “Exquisite. She has eyes…”

     “Well, isn’t that a relief,” Ragnar, who was getting annoyed, interrupted him.

     “They’re blue, very very blue.” Egil was lost in wonder. “As blue as…” Again Egil’s vocabulary was sorely lacking.

     “And her body…” Ketil made a suggestive outline with his hands. 

     “Exquisite,” Egil repeated as he swallowed so hard you could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down.

     Ragnar, whose patience had finally run out, slapped Egil across the face with the palm of his hand. “Stop this shameful behaviour.

     Egil recoiled. “Ouch!” The slap had quickly brought him out of his reverie.

     “Most likely, you two have been without female companionship for too long,” Ragnar snapped. “Right now probably any woman would look exquisite to you.” 

     Egil shook his head solemnly. “Oh no, King Ragnar, I swear that I’ve never seen her like. As a matter of fact I…I was hoping that you would grant me your permission to ask for her hand in marriage.”

     Angrily Ketil kicked his brother over the shin. “Don’t you even think of it. I’m the one who wants to marry her.”

      Egil shot him an incensed glance. “You already have a wife.”

      Ketil blushed. “Oh yeah, I forgot.”

     Ragnar rolled his eyes toward the grey sky. “This is absolute madness.”

***

Egil piled the still warm flatbread onto the cloth. He stole a glance at Old Grima who sat on a stool close to the fire, her shoulders hunched over. It looked like she was asleep. Egil gathered the cloth over the bread and tied a knot. 

     He smiled up at Kraka. “I was hoping that we could go somewhere private and talk, just you and me.”

     Kraka gave him a puzzled look. “Why?”

     Egil found himself blushing again. “Because what I have to say is of a personal nature.”

     She glanced uncertainly at Ketil who was presently helping himself to more ale from the barrel. “Won’t your brother mind?” She asked turning her attention to Egil again.

     He stood up. Having Kraka this close made him tingle all over. “I really don’t care if he minds.”

     Ketil turned his head to him. “I heard that,” he said as he straightened up and took a long draught from his beer. 

     “Follow me,” Egil told Kraka as he headed to the front door. He was relieved to hear her follow him. He opened the door to the outside and let her by.

     With a deep frown at him she passed by him. 

     Egil closed the door firmly behind him and walked with Kraka to the edge of the bluff overlooking the ocean. The deepening twilight was swallowing up the ships. He turned abruptly to Kraka and seized her hands in his. “I know that we haven’t known each other for very long, but to me it feels like a lifetime.”

     Her eyes met his. “We only met this afternoon.”

     Egil nodded. “I’m aware of that,” he said awkwardly. “But I think that you know right away when you’ve found the…the right person.” He squeezed her hands. “When I saw you I…will you do me the honour of becoming my wife,” he blurted out. 

     She gaped at him. “Your wife!”

     “Yes marry me.” He brought her hands to his lips and kissed each one in turn. “Make me the happiest man in the world.”

      She pulled her hands from his. “Don’t get me wrong, Egil, I do like you. I like your broad shoulders and narrow hips.”

       “Yes,” he said feeling an elation he could hardly contain. “Then it’s settled.”

      She shook her head fervently. “No, it’s not. I like you but…”

      “But what?”

     Kraka looked away. “It’s your hair.”

     “My hair.” Egil was confused. “What about my hair?”

     She fidgeted uncomfortably. “Well, it’s red,” she said looking at him again. “Very red.”

     It finally dawned on Egil where this conversation was heading. “Don’t tell me that you believe in that absurd superstition.”

       “Well, red hair is a bad omen,” Kraka said with a serious expression on her face. “My aunt and uncle would never allow me to marry you.”

      Egil couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Only the colour of his hair stood between him and utter bliss.

***

Ragnar studied the bread he was holding in his hand with disgust. “It’s burned.” He tossed the chunk overboard and turned to Ingvar, who was trying to eat some of the burned bread. “Throw that away and let’s go up to the house and see what those two oafs are up to.”

***

Outside the small house Ragnar and Ingvar ran into a gloomy-looking Egil. 

     “The bread you brought us was burned,” Ragnar complained. “We had to dump it all overboard.”

     Egil didn’t look like cared much as he with his head bent turned around and walked over to the edge of the bluff. He began to climb down and soon had disappeared from view. Ragnar couldn’t help wondering if he had just been snubbed. He was about to follow Egil to give him a scolding, but Ingvar seized him by the arm to prevent him from doing so. 

     “Let him be,” he said. “Something is obviously bothering him.”

      “The young people of today,” Ragnar fumed, “they show absolutely no respect.” He stormed up to the house and without bothering to knock tore the door open. 

     A young woman crouching at the hearth got up and turned to him. Ragnar felt his pulse quicken. The twins were right, she was indeed a splendid looking female.

     “Who are you?” an old hag shrieked from a corner of the room and came charging at him with a poker in her hand. “What gives you the right to barge in here without knocking.” She lifted the poker ready to strike him. “Get out of here.”

     Ingvar who had followed Ragnar inside quickly stepped in between her and Ragnar and seized the old woman’s wrist. “Calm yourself, old woman.”

     The woman struggled to free her hand. “Let me go,” she screamed at him.

     The young woman came over and put a hand on her shoulder. “Calm yourself, Aunt Grima. It’s men from the ships.”

      Old Grima stopped her struggle and instead stared into Ingvar’s face with her nearsighted eyes. “You can let go of my hand now.” 

      “Not before you give me that poker of yours.” He snatched the poker from her hand.

     With a broad smile Ragnar walked up to the young woman. “My name is Ragnar Lodbrok and I’m the king of Denmark.”

     “Like that’s something to be proud of,” Old Grima snorted.

     Ragnar took his eyes of the young woman just long enough to give the old hag a scathing look.

     “A king.” The young woman’s startling blue eyes shone with excitement. “Aunt Grima we have a real king standing right here in our house.” She extended a hand to him. “I’m Kraka.”

     Ragnar bent over her hand and kissed it with flourish.

     Kraka turned to her aunt and pointed at her. “She’s called Old Grima around here,” she introduced. “She has no last name because she doesn’t know whom her father is. Who knows, she might too be of noble stock.”

     Ragnar doubted that very much. 

     “Why are you here?” Old Grima asked in an unfriendly voice.

     “We’re here to fetch the rest of the bread,” Ingvar said.

     She pointed at the two bundles lying on the floor next to the hearth.

     Ingvar went over and picked up one of them. 

     “Hopefully those are not burned like the others,” Ragnar said with a sharp look at Old Grima.

     “They most likely wouldn’t have been burnt if your men hadn’t kept distracting my niece from the task.” Old Grima stretched out her bony hand. “Where’s my payment?”

     Ragnar arched his eyebrows. “Payment?”

     She nodded. “Yes, I was told that I would be amply rewarded for my troubles.”

     Kraka turned to her aunt with a frown. “I already told you that it wouldn’t be necessary.”

    “Oh, shut your mouth, Kraka,” the old woman hissed at her.

    Ragnar shook his head “I wasn’t aware of any payment,” he said. “I honestly thought you were doing this out of the goodness of your heart.”

     “Think again.”

     “Well, I am known to be  a very generous person.” Ragnar unstrapped a small leather pouch from his belt. “How does ten pieces of silver sound?”

     “Fifteen sounds better.”

***

Aki sniffed as he came inside the house. “I thought I smelled newly baked bread out there.” He closed the door after himself and went over to Kraka who was cleaning up around the hearth. He stretched out his work worn hand and stroked her cheek. “You must have known how ravenous I would be after my long walk.”

     Kraka smiled affectionately at him as she pulled his hand away and kissed it.

     Aki grimaced. “All Thule offered me all day was a bowl of porridge which was lumpy and gritty,” he said. “When I have guests over I always offer them our best.”

     Old Grima got up from her stool. “The bread was not baked for you. We had visitors today,” she added. “Three ships lie moored below the bluff. Caught by the bad weather they told us. Kraka baked them bread and they gave me this.” She came over to Aki with her hand outstretched.  

     Aki looked down at the silver. “That was a rather generous payment for some bread.”

     “They’re noble men,” Old Grima said as she closed her hand around the silver. “Their leader is Ragnar Lodbrok, the king of Denmark.”

     Aki gave a wry smile. “Well, I have to say that his reputation far precedes him.”

    Kraka looked curiously at her uncle. “So what is his reputation?”

     A strange uneasiness settled over Aki as he viewed Kraka closely. She seemed different somehow. There was an added lightness to her movements and a feverish tone to her voice. “Ragnar Lodbrok is a known troublemaker,” he said. “Any strife is seldom without his meddling presence.” He was aware that it was not just the heat from the fire on the hearth that had reddened Kraka’s cheeks, and there was a special glow in her eyes.

     “He’s the most handsome man I ever saw.” Kraka sighed deeply. “And he has blond hair.”

     Aki exchanged a quick apprehensive glance with his wife before he went to Kraka and put an arm around her shoulders. “My dear, even though we’re proud people we’re of very humble means. A nobleman, especially one who’s a king, is going to look for a wife among his own. He’ll want an earl’s daughter at his side, not a peasant’s.”

     Kraka put a hand over her heart. “In here I know that he’s the right man for me.”

     Aki squeezed her shoulders hard. “What do you know, my child,” he said. “After all you’re only just sixteen.”

      Kraka pulled his arm away from her and stamped her foot. “I’m not a child.”

***

Ingvar broke a piece of bread in half and handed one half to Ragnar. “So what did you think of her?”

      “Of whom?” Ragnar asked as he tore at the bread with his strong teeth.

     “That young woman of course.” Ingvar looked impatiently on as Ragnar chewed his mouthful of bread and swallowed. “It’s unusual to find a pretty woman like that among peasants, I grant you that.”

     Ingvar snorted at the remark. “Pretty! You know well that she’s a beauty.”

     With some hesitation Ragnar nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. She’s indeed a rare beauty, but she’s only a child and…and I’m only interested in mature women of a noble background,” he added quickly. “After all I have my reputation to think about.”

     Ingvar laughed out loud. “Since when have you started caring about your reputation.”

     “Since I became the king of Denmark,” Ragnar said with dignity. “It’s a lot of responsibility as you well know. One wrong move and I could lose all the respect I’ve worked so hard to earn.”

     Ingvar stared at Ragnar with disbelief in his eyes. “That’s it, I’ve had it up to here.” He held his finger underneath his chin. “Ever since Thora passed away and you became king you’ve adopted this self-righteous attitude that’s outright nauseating.” He spat on the deck. “You feel oh so exalted, so above the rest of us poor human beings. Oh yes, King Ragnar Lodbrok of Denmark has had experiences we could never hope for. Granted the rest of us was not married to Thora, this heavenly creature who was so brave, patient and wise.” He took a deep breath before he continued. “Well, brave she was to ever marry you, patient she was to stay with you. Wise…” He shook his head. “See that’s the one I personally don’t get.”

      Ragnar who had gone pale during Ingvar’s speech, jumped up from the rowing bench he was sitting on. “How dare you,” he bellowed, his voice shaking with anger.

     Deathly silence had fallen over the  the ship’s crew. “If you weren’t my best friend and blood brother,” Ragnar seethed, “I would already have done away with you over those insults.” His hand closed around the hilt of his knife. “Then again maybe I don’t need a friend such as you.”

     Ingvar gave him a defiant look. “Oh, yes you do. Otherwise you would turn into an insufferable pain.”

     Ragnar glared at him. “I’m warning you.”

     Ingvar bit his tongue. He didn’t regret what he had already said because those words had been brewing inside him for far too long. He waited until he saw Ragnar’s hand relax around the knife hilt and the tenseness in his expression soften. “You love women, Ragnar,” Ingvar again felt safe to speak. “It’s against your very nature to keep yourself from their company. Why don’t you just admit that you wanted to bed that woman from the moment you saw her.” He was relieved to see a smile cross Ragnar’s lips.

     “You’re right, old friend,” he admitted. “Yes, I wanted to seize Kraka and have my way with her.” The smile faded from Ragnar’s lips. “But just because you happen to be right on that accord  does not mean that I’m about to forgive your for your insults.”

      Ingvar nodded. “I admit I was harsh in my word.” But not overly much so, he thought. “And for that I apologize,” he added quickly.

     Ragnar searched his face. “You mean that?”

    “Yes, I do,” Ingvar answered solemnly.

    Ragnar seemed to be satisfied with that. “All right, I’ll forgive you this time. I’ll consider it a temporary lack of judgement from your side.”

     “So what do you wanna do about her?” Ingvar asked.

     “Whom?”

     Kraka of course,” Ingvar said. “Why would you deny yourself her sweet company.”

     Ragnar contemplated the question in silence for a moment before he answered. “You’re right why should I deny myself a little pleasure on this otherwise dismal excursion to these waters.” He allowed himself a self-satisfied smile. “Yes, why deny myself one of the few pleasures in life still allotted to me.”

     He stared toward shore. A full moon bathed the modest house in its silvery light. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll reward the young woman with another one of my visits.” His teeth glinted in the moonlight as he flashed a broad smile at Ingvar. “This, I’m sure, will be a good thing for me. After all it has been a long time since I last had a virgin.”

***

An ancient looking man peered out from behind the door, sleep still clouding his eyes. “Who are you?” he asked Ragnar, who gave the man as cheerful a smile as he could muster. 

     “You must be Aki,” he said as he stretched out his hand. “I’m Ragnar Lodbrok, the king of Denmark. The women I’m sure has told you about my visit.” When Aki made no move to shake his hand, Ragnar instead turned and pointed in the direction of the ocean where the sun was barely lifting above the horizon with the promise of a bright clear day for a change. “My three ships are mored below the bluff.” He turned to Aki again. “We were waiting out the bad weather.”

      Aki gave him a grumpy look. “It’s very early.”

     “So it is, but you see I couldn’t sleep, so I just had to come up here and…”

     The slam of the door reverberated in Ragnar’s ears. His first impulse was to kick the door in and strangle the old goat, but common sense took over when he realized that he probably wouldn’t stand much of a chance with Kraka if he killed her uncle. He thanked Odin for all the diplomatic experience he had accrued running his own kingdom. 

     With ears burning from the old man’s slight Ragnar again knocked on the door.

    It took a while but eventually it opened a crack and Aki’s wrinkled face showed yet again.

     Ragnar greeted him with another bright smile, which was this time rather painful to produce. “I don’t know if you understood me correctly, but I’m Ragnar Lodbrok, the king…” He quickly put his foot between the door and the jamb when Aki was about to close it again, an action he came to regret when the old man slammed the door against his foot. The pain from the impact made Ragnar suck in his breath. This time all diplomacy had left him.

     “You miserable half-wit,” he hollered as he pushed against the door with his shoulder. The old man was no match for Ragnar’s legendary strength and the door flew open. Aki staggered backwards. Ragnar lunged at him and grabbed the old man around his scrawny neck with both hands. He relished the sound of Aki gasping for breath. 

      Someone seized Ragnar’s arm. He turned and stared into Kraka’s incensed eyes. 

     “Let my uncle go,” she hissed at him.

     Ragnar’s hands relaxed. Aki slumped to the ground as he let go of his neck.

     Old Grima rushed to her husband’s side. “You should know better than waking an old man from his sound sleep,” she yelled at Ragnar. She sank to the ground and cradled Aki’s head in her arms. “How are you, my dear?” she asked him. 

     Aki coughed as he struggled to sit up. He massaged his neck as he angrily eyed Ragnar. “That’s definitely no way for a king to behave,” he croaked. “How do you expect people to respect you when you behave this way.”

     Old Grima got up from the floor and faced Ragnar. “What dealings do you have with my husband at this ungodly hour?”

     Ragnar looked at Kraka. By the way she blushed a deep red he realized that she must have been studying him. “I was hoping to have a word with your niece.”

     “It’s of such importance that you can’t wait for decent hour to seek her out?” Old Grima’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “This seems very odd to me.”

     “I only wish to become better acquainted with Kraka.”

     The old woman snorted derisively. “Oh, I’m sure you do.” She turned and barred her niece’s way with her outstretched arms. 

     “Aunt Grima, do you think so little of me that you don’t consider me capable of guarding my own virtue.” Kraka looked at Aki over Old Grima’s outstretched arm. “You brought me up better than that, Uncle.”

      Aki stared at Kraka for a while then nodded at his wife. “Let her talk to him.”

     Old Grima reluctantly lowered her arms and stepped aside. “You can talk to him for only a moment,” she told her niece. “Be sure to stay right outside the house and keep the door open so we can watch you.”

     Ragnar’s disappointment was tangible, like a sour taste in the mouth. He had hoped to take Kraka somewhere private for some bodily exploration, but that obviously had to wait. Eventually he would find a way to be alone with her. Of that he had no doubt.

      Secure in his confidence he walked through the door opening to the outside followed by Kraka. In an act of defiance he slammed the door shut, but heard it being torn open again as he and Kraka strolled to a nearby rock. With his hand he indicated that she should take a seat on it. She did so and he sat down next to her. 

     Ragnar had a hard time tearing his gaze away from her. What an attractive woman she was to behold with her fine-featured face and shapely body. Her long blonde hair shone like gold in the first light of a new day. “You’re the most beautiful woman that I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he said and meant it.

     She flashed a smile at him. “Egil said the same thing.”

     The mention of the name irritated Ragnar to no end. “Egil!” It came out as a sneer. “You like Egil?”

     She nodded. “Yes, I do like him except he has red hair—it’s a bad omen,” she added when she noticed his puzzled expression. “He asked me to marry him, but I can’t because it would be ill luck for our children.” A coy smile moved over her lips. “Besides I like you better. A man like you I could definitely marry.”

     “Marry.” The word felt woolly and sticky in his mouth. The conversation was taking a turn he was not ready for. He cast a glance at the house. The door was open and he was sure prying eyes were following their every move. 

     He took her hand in his. The touch made him feel as if he was on fire. “Well, marriage is a serious commitment. It should only be entered into by people who are highly compatible because after all you have to endure each other’s company for a long time, maybe even for the rest of your lives.”

    With her eyes shining Kraka squeezed his hand. “I could endure you for the rest of my natural life.”

      “No touching.” Aki’s yell from the house made them jump up.

      “Is there any way I could meet you later.” He nodded toward the house. “Away from prying eyes that is,” he whispered to her.

     Kraka nodded. “I’m tending the sheep today. Meet me down there.” She nodded toward the spot where the bluff disappeared into the early morning mist. 

***

Ketil, who was sitting on a rowing bench, pulled at his brother’s long sleeve. “Sit down and eat.”

Egil yanked his sleeve from Ketil’s hand and hurried over to the railing of the ship. “What is he doing up there? What dealings does King Ragnar have with these people?” His eyes darkened.

“I bet he’s up there because of Kraka.”

     Ketil glared at the group of smirking men who had overheard Egil. He got up from the rowing bench and went over to his brother. “You’re making a fool of yourself,” he whispered.

     Egil didn’t respond. His eyes were riveted on the two figures that had suddenly appeared at the top of the bluff. “It’s them.” He turned his head to Ketil. “He has a whole kingdom full of beautiful women who would love to be with him.” He blinked tears from his eyes. “Why can’t he just let her be.”

    Ketil, wisely, did not touch on the obvious reason. After all King Ragnar was known for bedding women. “I’m sure he has no romantic interest in her.” He was lying through his teeth but figured it was justified to put his brothers mind at ease. “She is far below him in birth and status,” he added to bolster his statement. 

     “So you tell me why she’s with him right now?”

     Ketil shrugged. “Maybe he’s trying to work out a deal concerning provisions before we leave.”

     Egil snorted contemptuously. “Do you take me for a fool.”

     Ketil was beginning to worry about his brother. He had never seen him in such an agitated state and was afraid he might do something rash that would land him in a whole heap of trouble.

      Egil seized hold of Ketil’s shoulder and pointed. “Did you see that?” he asked, his voice shaking. “I’m sure he’s holding her hand.”

     Ketil squinted against the bright daylight. “I don’t see that,” he lied. The grip on his shoulder tightened. 

     “What are you blind, Ketil? Look closely.”

      “I tell you I don’t think they’re holding hands.”

      “Of course they are.” Egil let go of Ketil and dissolved into tears. He slumped against Ketil and began to sob.

     It was a display so disgraceful that Ketil was sure the other men would never let Egil live it down. “Stop it,” he hissed in his brother’s ear.

     “I love her so much,” Egil hiccupped still leaning against Ketil. “If…if it hadn’t been for my red hair she would have accepted my proposal. This…” he abruptly straightened up and pulled at his hair in frustration, “is standing between me and my happiness.  

     Ketil shook his head, now certain that his brother had lost his mind.

***

Ragnar marvelled at his surroundings. The pink and blue flowers erupting on the heather shone brightly in the warm afternoon sun and birds chirped happily around him. What a change this was from the dreary grey days he had just endured. Maybe an excursion to the north hadn’t been such a bad idea after all. It was a reflection that was enhanced by the prospect of seeing Kraka again. She had constantly been on his mind since they had parted this morning.

     He removed his cap, wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and looked around. Now where was she? He had already strayed further inland than he felt comfortable with. Being too far away from his ship made him anxious. With his cap in hand he continued on. 

     At last he spotted Kraka waving at him from among the woolly dots of the sheep. The bright smile that she greeted Ragnar with as he came closer made him quite weak-kneed.

     “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show up, King Ragnar,” she said when he was close.

     He walked straight up to her and inhaled her scent which was a mixture of grass and the strong salty smell of the North Sea. “Try to keep me away.” Unable to control himself any longer he reached out and seized her around the waist pulling her close. “I’ve never desired a woman as much as you,” he lied as his lips sought hers.

     She pressed her hands against his chest. “I told you that I’m an honourable woman.” She pulled out of his embrace and backed away. “I’ll only give myself to my husband on our wedding night.”

      “I could teach you a few things before then,” he blurted out knowing well it probably wasn’t the right thing to say.

     She folded her arms over her chest and gave a firm look. “No more things than you could teach me on our wedding night.”

     He offered her his most charming smile. “We could just try once to see if it works between us.” He also knew well that this sounded like begging, but it couldn’t be helped. After all he wasn’t used to having his advances spurned.

***

Egil keenly watched Kraka as she quietly closed the door to the small house behind her. The mere sight of her brought renewed tears to his eyes. Oh, how he longed to take her into his embrace and feel her lithe body against his as he breathed her scent deeply into his lungs.

     Kraka seized him by the arm and dragged him away from the house. “What have you done to yourself?” she asked.

     He was confused. “What do you mean?”

     Kraka let go of his arm and stared at his hair. “Your hair, what happened to your hair?”

      Egil blushed as he suddenly remembered. In his delight over seeing her again he had completely forgotten about it. “You said you didn’t like my red hair so I coloured it.”

     “It’s purple.”

      He smiled sheepishly at her. “It was supposed to turn dark brown.”

     “It’s purple,” she repeated, continuing to stare at it.

     “I know.” His shoulders sagged. “Something went wrong, okay. Maybe I used too much of the wrong kind of lichen.”

     She frowned at him. “What a foolish thing to do?”

     Egil swallowed the lump that had jumped to his throat. “Kraka, I love you and you wouldn’t have me because of my red hair.” He seized her hands in his. “Well, now it’s not red anymore so that won’t be standing in our way.”

     Kraka shook her head at him. “You fool, it’s still red underneath the purple. A bad omen is not removed by trickery.”

     “Kraka, I’m desperate,” he groaned. “I’ll do anything for us to be together.”

     She viewed him sadly. “There won’t be any us, Egil, because my heart belongs to someone else.”

***

“So how did you respond to her?” Ingvar asked Ragnar.

     Ragnar’s sunburned nose shone red in the waning light of the early evening. He flashed a self-satisfied smile at his friend. “I gave her riddles to solve.”

     “Riddles!”

    With a sly look on his face Ragnar grinned at Ingvar. “Face it, Kraka doesn’t come across as a very intelligent woman. I want to bed her badly, but that doesn’t mean that I’m blind to her shortcomings.” He chuckled. “I presented her with some challenges. If she doesn’t pass them she has promised me that I can have my way with her.”

     Ingvar felt a familiar dread settle over him. The same feeling he alway shad when Ragnar thought himself more clever than others. “What if she passes?”

      “Then I marry her.”

     “Have you taken leave of your senses.” Ingvar fixed Ragnar’s gaze with his. “You can’t marry her,” he implored him. “She’s of peasant stock and your wife, as you well know, have to come from the ranks of nobility. It would be a disaster if she…”

      “You worry too much,” Ragnar interrupted him. “I tell you, there’s no way she’ll be able to solve those riddles. You just wait and see.” His gaze sought the sky were a full moon was appearing. “Tonight carries the certainty of sweet experiences for me.”

     “What riddles did you present her with?”

     “Tonight this divine woman is to show up neither naked, nor clad, neither fasting, nor fed,” he said as he turned his head to Ingvar with a look of confidence. “Finally, she’s not to come alone, yet no one shall attend her.” He looked proudly at the curious men who had assembled around him during his speech. “Clever don’t you think?” he asked them.  

     Misgivings were turning Ingvar’s stomach sour. “I’m afraid that you’ll come to regret this, my friend,” he told Ragnar.

***

“Kraka is here.”

     Ragnar looked up at Ingvar. “Where?”

     “She’s standing on the beach and it doesn’t look as if she intends to board the ship.” Ingvar bit his lower lip. “I see trouble looming.”

     “You’ve seen nothing but gloom and doom ever since I told you about the riddles,” Ragnar said with annoyance as he got up from his sea chest where he had been sitting for the past hour or so whittling away at a small piece of wood. He sheathed his knife and walked over to the railing where Ingvar was standing.

     He could barely make out Kraka’s form as she stood there on the beach staring at the ships. He turned to Ingvar. “That she’s not venturing out here can only mean one thing.”

     “And what would that be?” Ingvar’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. 

     “She’s obviously too ashamed to admit in front of me and the men that she failed the challenges I put forth.” He looked back at his crew. “Isn’t that right?” 

      A few of his men chuckled and nodded.

      Ingvar’s gaze sought Egil who gave him a sinister look in return. Egil had made no secret about his obsession with Kraka and he was beginning to act in a very disturbing way. His new hairstyle was clearly proof of that.

     Ragnar grinned at Ingvar. “I guess I’ll go and collect my reward.” 

     Ingvar watched on as his friend clambered over the railing and jumped into the water with a big splash. Good luck wishes and cheers followed him as he waded towards land. 

     Egil came up next to Ingvar, who noticed his burning eyes and the lips which were set in a tight line. Ingvar made a promise to himself about keeping a close eye on the young viking.

***

As he came closer to Kraka, Ragnar realized that something was different in the way she was dressed. She wore something long and flowing, a clear departure from her usual tunic and breeches. Moreover, why did she have that big ugly dog with her? Ragnar didn’t remember having seen the animal before.

      The dog growled at him showing its impressive fangs as Ragnar walked up onto the rocky beach. He was now close enough to see that Kraka had draped herself in what looked like a fishing net. Tantalizing glimpses of her naked body between the meshes in the net made his heart race. 

     “Kraka,” he said in wonder.

      With his eyes glowing the dog crept toward Ragnar with its underbelly touching the ground.

     Kraka’s hand shot out and took hold of the dog’s collar. Startled the dog looked up at her and then sank down on its haunches.

     “What’s with the dog?” Ragnar asked as he watched the animal closely. 

     “He’s touchy,” she said. “Uncle Aki thinks he was abused as a puppy.”

     “That’s not what I meant.” He gave the dog a wide berth. “What’s he doing here?”

     Kraka laughed softly. “Weren’t you the one who told me not to come alone, yet no person should attend me. You didn’t say anything about not being in the company of an animal,” she said with a coy look at him. “That’s why I brought, Thunder, our neighbour’s dog.” She shook her head. “Honestly, King Ragnar, that riddle was hardly a riddle at all.”

      Ragnar felt rather insulted, but how could he stay mad at her for long when glimpses of her soft-looking skin behind the fishing net sorely tempted him.

      Kraka took a deep breath. “The part about being neither naked, nor clad was much more of a challenge, but…” she bent her head and surveyed her unusual attire, then caught Ragnar’s burning gaze when she again looked up. “I do think, if I have to say so myself, that I solved that riddle in a rather ingenious way, don’t you think?”

      He found himself nodding his agreement, even though by doing so he knew well that he was moving himself towards a precipice he shouldn’t even think of approaching.

     “The hardest riddle, however, was the one about being neither fasting or fed.” A triumphant smile crossed her lips. “Really, King Ragnar, how did you come up with these ideas.”

      His throat felt dry. “I don’t know.”

     “Well, I solved that one too.”

    “You did,” he croaked.

     She walked over to him and leaning close to him he caught a whiff of her breath.

     Since the odour wasn’t at all that pleasant he couldn’t help wrinkling his nose. “What’s that smell?”

     She backed away from him. “I sucked on a leek.”

     “Why?” He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

     “That way I’m neither fasting nor fed.” She crossed her arms over her chest and viewed him with glee. “And now, King Ragnar, since I solved all your riddles you set a date for our wedding. Any time works for me—the sooner the better,” she added quickly.

      Ragnar’s throat now felt like it was closing. His mind, which usually worked at an optimum when he found himself in difficult situations, was numb. Pure instinct took over as he quickly spun around and sprinted towards his ship with water spraying around his ears.

     Ingvar thankfully was at the railing extending a helping hand to Ragnar when he panting arrived at the ship. 

     “Hurry, the dog is chasing you,” Ingvar yelled.

      Ragnar clambered over the railing followed by the dog. He turned his head just as Thunder’s menacing teeth snapped at his backside. Fortunately, Ingvar with a well-aimed kick at its side managed to sent the animal overboard again before it had a taste of royal flesh. The dog yelped all the way back to the beach.

     Ingvar turned to Ragnar who lay panting on the deck. “Why did she sent the dog after you?”

     Flustered Ragnar looked at his friend. “I have no idea. Maybe she’s sore at me and she might not be stupid after all since she actually solved the riddles.”

     A surprised murmur rose from the crew who had been waiting patiently for an explanation for the king’s undignified return to the ship.

     Ragnar sat up and scratched his head with a befuddled look on his face. 

     Ingvar shook his head at Ragnar in dismay. “I knew you would come to regret it.”

     “You’re right, I misjudged her intellect sorely,” Ragnar said. “Never did I dream that…” Ragnar crawled over to the railing and peered over it. Kraka, he saw, was tending to the injured dog. He glanced desperately back at Ingvar. “What am I to do?”

     Ingvar shrugged. “The only thing you can do of course. Head south this very moment.”

     Ragnar slumped down and leaned his back against the railing. “How can I, since I gave her my word,” he said miserably. “My honesty is as renowned as my good looks and prowess in battle.” He stood up. “I’m not about to turn tail.”

     Ingvar came up to him and looked toward the shore where Kraka now stood staring at them while patting the dog on its big head. “Ragnar, you know well that you cannot marry this woman.” He paused for a moment. “It would be political suicide to make her your queen.”

     Ragnar’s clenched his hands. “I can’t suddenly turn may back on the principles that have been my guiding force throughout my illustrious life.”

     Ingvar bit his lower lip as he thought. “How did she solve the riddles?” he asked.

     Ragnar explained quickly and watched Ingvar keenly as his friend pondered the information. 

     “Well,” Ingvar said at last. “The fishing net was rather ingenious I have to admit, and the dog I guess is okay.” Ragnar nodded along as he felt his spirits sink further. “But I think the leek is a little questionable.”

     Hope stirred in Ragnar as he looked quickly at Ingvar. “What do you mean?”

     Ingvar frowned. “Well, you said neither starving nor fed, so I really don’t think just sucking on a leek was a very satisfactory solution.”

     Ragnar’s eyes widened. “You don’t think so?”

     “No, definitely not,” Ingvar said shaking his head. 

     “So I’m under no obligation to marry her?”

     Ingvar grabbed hold of Ragnar’s arm when he jumped up and was about to clamber over the railing. “Where do you think you’re going?”

     “Well, if she lost, I can legitimately ask for my payment.” He tried to wrest his arm from Ingvar’s grip, but he held tight. “I’ll only be gone for about ten minutes,” he added quickly.

     Ingvar pulled him close. “Have you lost your mind?”

     “Well, maybe I’ll need fifteen minutes. At most twenty.” He was silenced by Ingvar’s icy stare.

     “We’re leaving now, Ragnar, while we still have time.”

     Ragnar scowled at him. “Since when have I allowed you to tell me what to do?”

     “Since you lost your mind over that woman,” Ingvar retorted.

    The two men kept glaring at each other for a while until Ragnar raised his hand and signalled at his crew, who had followed the interaction between him and Ingvar with great interest, to lift anchor.

***

Ingvar walked up to Ragnar who stood at the bow of his ship staring out over the green expanse of the ocean. “You’re so quiet.”

     Ragnar didn’t answer him. It was as if Ingvar wasn’t even there.

     “I commend you on how wisely you’ve handled this matter.” Ingvar said. “You’ve shown yourself to be a true king putting your subjects wishes above your own.”

     Ragnar turned to him. A ray of the sun made the drop of saltwater hanging from his nose glint. “A true king you say! A true king does not live by deceit and trickery.” He slapped himself on the chest with his hand to underline his words. “A true king stands by his word.”

     Ingvar felt his heart begin to sink. “A true king is selfless and dedicated to those Odin has put under his protection.”

     Ragnar shook his head while emitting a deep sigh. “Truth be told I feel wretched about this whole thing.” He grabbed hold of Ingvar’s shoulders with both hands and looked earnestly into his eyes. “If I can’t even respect myself, how can I demand respect from others.”

      Ingvar resigned himself to what invariably was about to happen. He had learned a long time ago that there came a point where it was useless to argue with Ragnar. He allowed himself a smile. “What she did with the leek was rather inventive, I must admit.”

     Ragnar let go of Ingvar’s shoulders and nodded. “My thought exactly. Listen, Ingvar, I got myself into this mess and now I’ve got to make it right.” He grinned. “To be honest the prospect of marrying Kraka isn’t that unwelcome to me.”

      “King Ragnar.” Ketil yelled from the back of the ship. “Egil’s missing. I thought he had just gone to sleep last night under his blankets, but he’s not even onboard.”

***

“What are you doing here?” Kraka asked peering out at him through a crack in the door.

     Egil shivered in the early morning chill. Throughout the afternoon and early evening he had tried to work up enough courage to go to the small house on the bluff. The prospect of facing Old Grima and Aki had kept him back. Seeing the ships sail away without him had filled him with sadness, but had not changed his resolve, which was to stay back here with Kraka. She needed him now after the way King Ragnar had so cruelly treated her. Hidden behind a big rock he had witnessed the whole shameful interaction between Kraka and Ragnar on the beach.

     “The ships have all left,” he muttered. He had expected to see the humiliation in her eyes over Ragnar’s slight but instead he saw them smouldering with anger. 

      “I solved those riddles and he knows it.” She opened the door and walked outside. “He came to me so sure of himself,” she seethed as she closed it after herself. “So sure that a peasant woman wouldn’t be able to best him. but I did.” Her gaze burned into his. “I’m glad he’s gone. When I sent Thunder after him, I prayed that the dog would inflict pain on him the like he had never felt before—I’ll never again trust a man,” she added vehemently.

    “Not all men are like him,” Egil said as he reached out his hand and caressed her cheek. “My love is unconditional. Please marry me.”

***

The ships again cast anchor below the bluff. Ragnar looked up toward the house. It looked so foreboding all of a sudden. He turned to Ketil, who had been inconsolable ever since he had discovered his brother gone. Right now he sat crying with his arms wrapped around his bend knees. He was convinced that the lovesick Egil had jumped overboard and drowned himself.

     Ragnar looked at Ingvar. “I guess, I better set Ketil’s mind at ease because I’m certain that when I locate Kraka I’ll find Egil too.”

     “Good luck,” Ingvar said as Ragnar jumped from the railing of the ship into the water.

***

Egil squeezed Kraka’s hand. “I know that we’ll be happy together,” he said again looking into her eyes. “You wont’t find anyone on this earth who’ll love you as much as I do. I worship the ground you walk on.”

     Kraka’s gaze wandered up to his hair. 

     He shook his head in frustration. “No, no, don’t you start that again. It’s just a silly superstition.” He pulled her close. “Say yes, Kraka,” he whispered in her ear. “Just say yes.”

     “Am I interrupting something here?”

    They jumped apart with Egil so startled that he stumbled backwards and landed on his behind. With dread he turned his head and spotted Ragnar climbing the rest of the way over the edge of

 the bluff. He stood up and brushed sand and grass from his tunic while smiling teasingly at Egil. 

     Kraka collected herself and stormed up to Ragnar who was moving confidently toward her. “What are you doing here?” She waved her hands dismissively at him.  “Be off and take your miserable ships with you.”

      Ragnar obviously taken aback by her fury abruptly stopped. He, however, quickly regained his composure. “This is not quite the welcome I had expected, I must admit.”

     Kraka circled around him. “And what did you expect after you turned tail and slunk away to your ship with your empty promises.”

     Ragnar squared his shoulders. “Well, I’m now here to make good on those promises.”

     Egil’s heart jumped to his throat when he saw Kraka suddenly step up to Ragnar and plant a kiss on his lips, only to draw back from him again. Holding her head high she put her hands in her sides. “That’s a real pity, King Ragnar, because now I won’t have you,” she said mockingly.

      Ragnar’s mouth dropped.

      Kraka shook her head. “See, King Ragnar, you fall short of whom I want to marry, which is an honest and kind man.” She spun around, and ignoring Egil, she strode past him to the house. 

     They soon heard the door slam shut.

***

“She won’t have me!” Ragnar shook his head at Ingvar with disbelief. “Can you believe the audacity of that woman.”

     Ingvar sat down next to Ragnar. “Well, it seems like it worked out for the best then.”

     But it was as if Ragnar was not listening. “You should have seen the way she looked at me, and…and she likened me to a dog saying I turned tail and slunk away.”

     Ingvar squeezed his friend’s shoulder. “I would just used this whole sorry incident as a warning to act less rashly in the future.”

     Ragnar shrugged Ingvar’s hand off and buried his face in his hands. “But I want her to like me,” came his muffled voice.

      Ingvar sighed. “What do you care what a peasant’s niece thinks of you,” he said. “You’ll have plenty of women to choose from when we arrive back home.”

     Ragnar looked up at him. “It’s important that she knows what a truly amazing, brave and selfless man I really am.” His eyes filled with anguish. “You have to help me.”

***

Egil found Kraka outside the cabin. She was sitting crosslegged on the ground with her hands clutching her knees so hard that the knuckles shone white through her tanned skin. Her shoulders were shaking. She turned her face away from him when he knelt down next to her. 

     He leaned over and stroked her hair. “Why are you crying? You handled yourself with dignity. You’ve nothing to be ashamed of.”

     Kraka sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Honestly, Egil, all I feel right now is sadness and disappointment.” There was a tremor in her voice that made it hard for her to speak. “Never did I think that such a fine-looking man as King Ragnar could hide such a disgraceful being.”

     They both looked up when the door to the house was opened and Aki walked outside, his eyes still heavy with sleep. “Why didn’t you wake me, Kraka,” he asked. “The sun is already high in the sky and I have much work to do today.” First now did he seem to register that Egil was there. His eyes narrowed. “You’re always hanging around here, it seems,” he said. “Don’t you have other things to do than bothering my niece?”

     The old man’s rudeness made the heat rise to Egil’s cheeks. “Kraka likes my company,” he said to the old man his voice tight with anger.

      “If I was King Ragnar, young man,” Aki said pointing a finger at him. “I would want my men to earn their keep instead of pursuing women.” He let his hand sink down. “That brings me to another matter. When does King Ragnar intend to lift anchor and leave these shores for good. His presence is fast becoming a nuisance. He need to leave humble folk alone so they can go about their lives in peace.”

     Kraka glared up at him. “That’s enough, Uncle Aki,” she said. “You’re being rude to Egil who has shown nothing but respect for this family.”

       Ignoring her blistering look Aki walked over to her. “Why are you crying, Kraka?” He seized hold of her arm and pulled her up from the ground. “I hope you’re not now going to confirm my worst fear, that these brutes have had their way with you.” His gaze sought Egil. “You lay with my niece, didn’t you?”

     Egil felt a small vessel start to throb in his left temple as he faced Aki. “Now you wait just a moment, you old fool.”

     Aki let go of Kraka’s arm and again pointed a finger at him. “You get off this property this instant and you tell your King Ragnar that he has also outlasted his welcome here.”

     Egil pushed his shoulders back and turned a defiant chin towards the old man. “I’m not leaving Kraka.” His gaze sought hers. “Tell your uncle that you want me to stay.”

     “Maybe it’s best you leave,” she said evenly.

*** 

“She won’t talk to any of you, I just told you.” Aki began to push the door closed again, but Ingvar again prevented him. 

     “I only want a few words with your niece.”

     Aki stopped pushing against the door and opened it so Ingvar had a view of the interior where Old Grima was sitting by the hearth stirring a pot.  “Listen, I don’t know what went on between my niece and King Ragnar,” he said. “I only hope that he was as honourable in his intentions as he keeps claiming.”

     Old Grima gave a snort. “Likely that is.”

     Aki sent her a scathing look. “Hush, woman.” He turned to Ingvar again. “Kraka is quite adamant that she doesn’t want to see him again.”

     “Tell him to leave,” came Kraka’s choked voice from the back of the room. Ingvar hadn’t even noticed before now that she was lying on a narrow cot pushed up against the wall. 

     Aki shrugged at Ingvar. “You heard her yourself.”

     “If you would only listen to me for a moment,” Ingvar yelled over the old man’s shoulder. He was pushed outside and the door slammed in his face.

***

“It’s futile I tell you,” Ingvar said to Ragnar. “She won’t listen to any of us.”

     Ragnar’s hand closed around the railing of his ship as he stared at the small house above the bluff. Low hanging grey clouds were promising more rain.

      Ingvar was only too eager to head south as soon as possible. Their trip up here had been nothing but misery since they had sailed into these desolate waters. Ragnar’s troubles with Kraka had suddenly made him acutely aware how much he longed for the embrace of his young wife. He was surprised to find that his eyes were tearing up at the thought of her and quickly blinked them away. “Let’s just leave,” he told Ragnar.

     “I’m not leaving without her.”

      With a deep sigh Ingvar looked up at the thick blanket of grey clouds. “You only want what you can’t have,” he said. “Admit it, the thought of being spurned by a peasant’s niece is eating you up inside.”

     Ragnar shook his head at him. “No, Ingvar, you got that one wrong. I want her because of who she is, a woman with strong principles like myself. A woman who stands by her convictions,” he pushed his finger up against Ingvar’s chest, “is upright, sincere, honest and brave…” Each word was followed with a jab of his finger.

     “Just like yourself,” Ingvar finished the sentence for him.

     Ragnar stopped his jabbing and lowered his arm. “I don’t appreciate you mocking tone, but yes, you’re quite right, just like me,” he continued. “She’s the woman I’ve been looking for all my life.”

     “I thought that was Thora,” Ingvar said wryly.

     Ragnar looked confused. “Who?”

     “Thora, your late wife. The woman you were married so blissfully to for many years.

     Ragnar nodded with a solemn expression. “Thora was indeed a good wife and I was happy with her, but I’ve come to realize that Kraka compliments who I am so much better. She’s my…”

      Ingvar had finally lost the last bit of patience he had been able to muster. “When are you going to get through your thick skull that she won’t have you,” he groaned. “We could spend years here in this forlorn place while you’re trying to convince her otherwise.” He put his hands on Ragnar’s shoulder and looked him straight into his eyes. “How long do you think Earl Guthorm will be able to make excuses for your absence. Soon your subjects will think that you don’t care about them and someone else will lay claim to your throne.” He held his gaze. “Is that really what you want?”

     Ragnar didn’t answer. Instead he pulled Ingvar’s hands from his shoulders and turned to look at the house again. “I think I see Kraka up there,” he said after a while. He turned excitedly to Ingvar. “Maybe she’s changed her mind.

     Ingvar, no matter how hard he looked, couldn’t see her.

      He spun around when he heard a loud splash. Ragnar who had stood there next to him a moment ago was gone.

     “He jumped in,” one from the crew told him. He was right. Ingvar spotted Ragnar as he waded through the water toward the beach.

     Ingvar climbed over the railing and lowered himself into the water which felt colder than he remembered. He followed Ragnar. “Wait up,” he yelled after him.

     Ragnar ignored him.

     “What do you think you’re doing?”

     This time Ragnar stopped and turned to him. “If she won’t come at her own free will, I’ll take her by force.” 

     “Have…have you lost your mind.” Ingvar’s teeth was clattering in his mouth because of the freezing water. 

     “I won’t put up with this a minute longer,” Ragnar said, his jaw clenched. “No woman says no to Ragnar Lodbrok.” He turned and covered the last distance to the beach. 

     “An unwilling woman does not make for a pleasant bed partner,” Ingvar said when he caught up with Ragnar who had now crossed the rocky beach and was standing at the base of the bluff looking up toward the top of it.  

     “Oh, shut up, Ingvar,” Ragnar snapped at him.

      “You’re on your own then,” Ingvar said. “I’ll have no part of this foolishness.”

       Ragnar glared back at him. “Suit yourself.”

       Swearing loudly Ingvar retraced his steps back to the ship. When he reached it he caught sight of Egil begin to clamber over the railing into the water, but before he succeeded a hand shot out and pulled him back onboard the ship. A struggle ensued, loud with cursing and blows, and then finally a howl of pain. Egil appeared again and jumped into the water. Half-swimming and half-propelling himself through the water he headed for the shore.

     “Come back,” Ingvar yelled after him.

     Ketil came to the railing and pointed at Egil. “Stop him.” Since he was holding a hand against his bloodied nose his voice was muffled. 

      Ingvar jumped back in the water and followed Egil.

***  

Ragnar pushed the door to the small house open with such force that it hit the wall and bounced back. Had he not parried it with his elbow it would have hit him smack in the face. “Enough is enough,” he roared at the threesome in the room.

     They viewed him in stunned silence.

     Before Kraka could react Ragnar had rushed over to her and grabbed hold of her arm. “You’re coming with me.”

      She struggled to free herself from his tight grip. 

     Aki jumped up from his stool. “You can’t come barging into my home like this and make demands. He rushed over to Ragnar and tried to free Kraka. “This is unacceptable behaviour, especially from a king.”

     “Oh, shut up, you old fool.” Ragnar swept Aki aside. The old man staggered, lost his balance and fell backwards hitting his head against stone edge around the hearth. His eyelids fluttered and closed. 

      Old Grima shrieked and hurried to her husband’s side.

     “You big brute.” The slap that which fell across Ragnar’s face stung mightily. “You killed my uncle.” Kraka’s face was livid.

     Old Grima began to wail as he buried her face against Aki’s chest. “My husband is dead.”

     “Nonsense, he’s a tough old goat,” Ragnar said as he dragged Kraka with him to the old man and nudged him with his foot. There was no response. 

      “Watch out, Ragnar,” came a yell behind him.

      Ragnar spun around and looked into a face so twisted with fury that he barely recognized it. He fell to the floor taking Kraka with him to avoid the heavy sword blade aimed at his head. The blade bit down into the dust next to him. Dirt filled his nostrils and eyes.

     Kraka seized the opportunity when Ragnar let go of her and scurried on all fours away from him. Through his blurred vision he saw the sword lift above him. He coughed to get rid of the dust in his mouth. “Egil, what in Odin’s name are you…”

     Egil’s expression changed from rage to stunned surprise as he gasped and fell face first to the ground. Ragnar looked from the knife handle buried in Egil’s back to Ingvar’s pale face.

     “That was close.” Ingvar’s voice was taut.

***

Aki held a hand to the back of his head. “What happened?” With a dazed look he eyed the man stretched out in front of him. 

     Old Grima crouched down next to him with a bowl of water in her hand. “I already told you, Aki, that’s he’s dead,” she said as she offered the bowl to him. He drank greedily from it and then returned it to his wife empty. His gaze sought the body again. “Who is he?”

     “Egil, the red-haired one,” she answered.

     “But his hair is purple.”

     Old Grima put the bowl down next to her and shrugged. “What can I say, King Ragnar obviously employs strange people.”

     Aki closed his eyes against the pain in his head for a moment. He had a very fuzzy memory of what had happened to him. “He nearly killed me?”

     “Who? This one.” She poked the dead body with her bony finger. “No, not him. King Ragnar was the one who nearly sent you to next world.

     Aki’s eyes darkened. “I remember now.” He looked around the roo. “Where is that wretched creature now?” He groaned as he got up. “It feels as if my head is split in half.”

     “He’s gone,” his wife told him.

    With his hand Aki gingerly outlined the bump on the back of his head. “Where has he gone?”

     Old Grima nodded at Egil’s body. “When you were out this one came storming in here wanting to kill King Ragnar.” She shook her head in regret. “Unfortunately King Ragnar’s friend saved him.”

     Aki bent over Egil’s body. “Are they just going to leave him here?”

     Old Grima struggled into upright position. “They said to do with him as we pleased.”

     Anger surged up in Aki setting off another burst of pain in his head. “We’re not his slaves. He can dispose of his waste himself.”

    “I told you that he’s gone,” Old Grima said. “He left with his ships and…and took Kraka with him.”

     “And you didn’t try to stop him!”

     She put her hand in her sides and glared at him,. “You’re talking nonsense, Aki,” she snapped. “How can I, an old woman, stand up against two strong full-grown men?”

      Aki gave a derisive snort. “Well, it certainly never stopped you before.” It was too painful for him to keep his eyes open. Closing them he heard his wife shuffle across the floor to a corner of the room and then a moment later return to him again. She pulled at his sleeve.

     He moaned as he opened his eyes.

     “Look.” She was holding out her hand to him.

     It took a while for him to focus on what she had on her palm. It was gold pieces and lots of them. The sight made him want to cry. 

     “You… you took gold for our Kraka. You…” His voice caught in his throat.

    “Oh, don’t be a fool, husband,” Grima said impatiently. “Kraka was fighting it, but we both know that she would eventually have gone after him, because women in love have no sense.” She stared into his eyes. “So I could just as well take the gold when it was offered to me.”

***

“How dare you.” Kraka kicked Ragnar hard over his shin.

     He yelped in pain but he didn’t loosen his grip on her. Around him he could hear his crew chuckle. He feared that his reputation was being seriously damaged by his inability to dampen Kraka’s rage. He tightened his grip around her wrist even more. “Now you listen to me…” His sentence ended in a howl of pain as Kraka’s strong teeth sank into his arm. This time he had no choice but to let her go, so intense was the pain, but she continued to hang on, her teeth sinking deeper and deeper into his flesh.

     “Help,” he roared at the others. 

     Ingvar scrambled over to him, nearly falling as he stumbled over some coiled ropes. He managed to keep his balance and reached Ragnar. He grasped Kraka’s nose with two fingers and pinched her nostrils shut until she let go.

     Ragnar blinked tears of pain from his eyes as he looked down at his arm where big, angry blue welts were forming. “Look what she did to me.” He showed his bruised arm to Ingvar. “You stop this madness he yelled at her.”

     Kraka blew long blonde strands of hair away from her face. “You take me back home this instant.

     “That might not be such a bad idea,” one of Ragnar’s young warriors said with a chuckle. It was as chuckle that soon turned into hearty laughter. 

     Ragnar glared at him. “You shut your mouth, Stig.”

     The young viking swallowed his laughter and nodded. “I’m sorry, King Ragnar.”

     “And so you should be,” Ragnar told him. “This is no way to treat your sovereign. I demand respect from my subjects.” He stared at the faces around him. One by one, the men hung their heads unable to withstand his fierce gaze. 

     Ragnar turned his attention to Kraka again. Ingvar had pulled her arms behind her back to prevent her from doing further harm to his friend. 

      Her eyes flashed at Ragnar as he came closer.

     “Do you even know how lucky you are,” he told her through clenched teeth. “What are the odds that a young woman of such humble background gets a marriage proposal from a king?”

     She spat at Ragnar. Only a hard yank from Ingvar prevented the spit from hitting Ragnar in his face.

     “Well, apparently the odds are not great enough,” she hissed at him. 

    “I don’t understand you at all,” he said to her feeling genuinely puzzled. “I’m handsome, brave and well regarded by my men. Above all I’m rich.” He shook his head at her. “What’s there not to like?”

     “Well, to begin with, you’re a liar and a cheat, and…and you killed my uncle.”

     “Your uncle is going to be fine,” Ragnar said with confidence.

     She kicked her foot at him, but he was too far away for her to inflict him any harm. “He didn’t look fine to me and even if he was it doesn’t change the face that you beat up a defenceless old man.”

     Ragnar’s face reddened. 

     Ingvar yanked at her arms. “Ragnar told me it was an accident.”

     Kraka trying to free herself from Ingvar drove the heal of her foot down on top of his soft leather shoe. “It was no accident, you fool.”

     Ingvar sucked in air and let go of her. “You take her back home, Ragnar,” he seethed as he began limping around on his injured foot. “I don’t want to be anywhere near that crazy woman.”

     “Yeah, I agree with Ingvar,” Stig commented. “She sure doesn’t seem right in her head.” He looked at the other men for support. Some of them nodded in agreement, others looked uncertainly at Ragnar to gauge his reaction. 

     They all backed away from him when Ragnar for a moment looked as if he was about to lash out at them, but then he seemed to reconsider and instead turned to Kraka who stood glowering at him.

     “Very well, Kraka,” he said. “I’ll take you back home to your uncle and aunt.” He shrugged. “What a pity. You just don’t know what you’re missing out on.”

     Kraka’s mouth had dropped. 

***

Old Grima showed whatever teeth she had left in a broad grin. “He didn’t even ask for the gold back.”

     Aki put an arm around Kaka’s shoulders. “I only grateful that he brought you back here again,” he said sniffling. “I already missed you something fierce in the short time you were away.”

     Kraka was in a somber and reflective mood. She was still trying to deal with the fact that King Ragnar had so abruptly dismissed her. If he was as amazing as he claimed wouldn’t he have fought for her affections. Now that she was back with her uncle and aunt she wasn’t at all sure that was what she really wanted. Deep down, she now realized, she could eventually have forgiven the king. After all, despite his to her obvious shortcomings, he was still the most handsome and exciting man she had ever met and what was the chance that she would ever meet someone like him again. 

     Dread settled like a heavy cloak around her shoulders. It was the dread of ending her life in drudgery like her aunt and uncle, bent and old before her time.

      Kraka gave a start when she heard a hesitant knock on the door. She ducked from underneath her uncle’s arm, hurried across the floor and tore the door open. She stared into Ketil’s grief-stricken face.

     “I come here to bury my brother.” His eyes, swollen and red from crying, looked at Egil’s crumbled form laying on the floor. Aki, who was still dazed and sore from his fall, hadn’t yet felt up to task of hauling him outside.

     “Did King Ragnar come back too?” she asked breathlessly.

     Ketil shook his head. “No, I kept insisting that I wanted to make sure that my brother got a proper Viking burial, so King Ragnar finally relented and made Earl Thormod turn his ship around to take me back here.” He looked at his brother’s body again. “We’ll take our leave as soon as it’s done.”

     Kraka looked at him with tears in her eyes. “You must hate me since I was the cause of all this.”

      “No, I don’t hate you, Kraka,” Ketil said. “Egil caused his own demise by not being able to control his emotions.” He went to his brother’s body and looked down at him. “What a waste,” she heard him mutter. 

     Kraka signalled at her aunt and uncle that she was going outside. She needed some time for herself. She inhaled deeply from the salty sea air and walked past the house to the edge of the bluff. Below her Earl Thormod’s ship rocked on gentle waves. 

     She soon heard Ketil and her uncle come outside. By their strained voices interspersed by heavy panting she knew they were carrying Egil’s body. Soon the rhythmic sound of digging filled the air. 

     Kraka still stood staring out over the ocean when Ketil at long last walked up next to her. 

     “Egil is now feasting with Odin,” he told her, his voice breaking. “I would have liked to build a funeral pyre for him, but that would have taken too long. Earl Thormod is not a patient man,” he added as an explanation.” He put a hand on Kraka’s arm and squeezed it lightly. “I wish you all the best.” 

     She turned her head and looked into his sorrowful eyes. “I’m going with you on the ship.”

     “But, I…I thought you said…” he stammered.

     “I know what I said,” she interrupted, “but I’ve come to realize how terribly dull life would be without King Ragnar in it.”

     Ketil hesitated before he spoke. “King Ragnar didn’t have kind words about you when he left you here. Maybe you should reconsider.

     She smiled. “I’m sure he’s not too enthused with me at the moment, but I know that he feels the same way about me as I do him. We belong together.”

***

“Are my eyes deceiving me?” Ragnar said.

     Ingvar came up next to him where he was standing at the stern of the ship. “What do you mean?”

     Ragnar pointed at Thormod’s ship which had just made it around the headland. 

     Ingvar studied the figure standing in the bow of Thormod’s ship. Through the salt spray he was finally able to discern Kraka’s features. He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

     “Neither do I.” Ragnar’s eyes narrowed. “Is it her intention to keep on tormenting me?” He groaned. “Well, she’s doing a fine job at it, she is.”

     “Now remember to keep yourself under control,” Ingvar warned. “Don’t let this woman get under your skin.”

    Ragnar’s features settled into a stern expression. “I don’t intend to.”

    Earl Thormod’s ship glided up next to Ragnar’s. The earl had a hard time containing his merriment. “Look who’s here, King Ragnar.”

     Ragnar’s crew broke into laughter when they too spotted Kraka.

     “She’s like a fly that continues buzzing around your head, King Ragnar,” Stig yelled at him.

     Ragnar spun around and glared at the young man. “Don’t you ever know when to shut up.”

    Stig shrank visibly. 

     Ragnar turned his attention to Thormod again. “I don’t want that woman back on my ship. I will…”

     He stopped when he heard that people were gasping around him. With a giant leap Kraka had jumped the breath of the open ocean between the two ships. She strode over to Ragnar with dishevelled hair and flushed face and seized him by his ears, pulled his head down and planted a forceful kiss on his lips. Triumphantly she let go. “King Ragnar, from this day forward your mine  alone.”

     With cheeks burning all Ragnar could do was nod.

***

On Kraka’s very first night spent onboard on the ship, Ragnar with great confidence and cheered on by his crew snug in underneath her sleeping blanket. Great was his surprise when his advances were rebuked in a firm, and he had to admit, somewhat mean-spirited fashion. 

    The men who had just a moment before cheered him on and given him their thumbs up laughed heartily as he yelping from pain scurried out from underneath the blanket. He carried the bruise on his shin where Kraka had kicked him for days afterwards. 

     It soon became clear that Kraka wanted to hear their marriage wows before he could get his way with her. This, however, did not deter Ragnar from trying yet again as they got close to Danish shores. This time she seemed more amenable to his advantages. At least she didn’t kick him again. Hesitantly, she revealed to him that it had come to her in a dream that if they consummated their union before they were married the child they conceived would somehow be afflicted. The dream did not give her details as to what this affliction might be, but the premonition in her dream had unsettled her greatly.  

     Ragnar dismissed it as pure nonsense and pushed on with his amorous advances. Eventually he was able to break down Kraka’s defences with his never failing charm. A week before their marriage was to take place in Hleidar, Kraka’s, as it turned out later, did indeed conceive a son on the ship, who was born nine months later. Despite what had been predicted in her dream, her son was a handsome and healthy-looking baby with chubby cheeks and his father’s winning smile, but it was soon discovered that he couldn’t move his legs. Ragnar and Kraka’s firstborn would end up living his life as a cripple. 

     Despite protests from Ragnar advisors he and Kraka decided to keep their son instead of exposing him as was strongly suggested. They named him Ivar. 

     Three years later a second son was born. He was named Bjørn because he was such a big and strong baby. Another three years went by and then Hvitserk arrived, to be followed two years later by Rognvald, who sadly died in infancy. This so distressed Kraka that she didn’t let Ragnar back in her bed out of fear that she would again lose a child. 

     Even though Ragnar soon sought the comfort of other women it was Kraka he longed for.