Vikings: The Truth about Aslaug and Ragnar

Prologue

The woods were dark as she entered. It was still early, after all, and the sun was only just breaking light. Her hands reached out, touching the trees as she passed, grounding her with their mere presence.

Aslaug was determined as she walked. The frigid cold of early morning did not chill her. The damp earth, still frosted over, did not freeze her. It was her vision that terrified her and nothing else entered her mind as she made her way through the forest.

She remembered her dream, oh how she remembered it. It bit into her memory and consumed everything else, no matter how hard she pushed the images away. In the end, there was nothing left to do but remember it; those moments when she had seen her husband's death. She choked back a sob as she thought about it. Losing Ragnar was more than she could ever bear, and she had endured so much already in her lifetime.

Flashes of pain wracked her body as she remembered the longship and the arrogant way in which Ragnar had claimed he would visit England and defeat those there. These were the same ones that others of their kind had not been able to conquer in all their years of raiding. The vision had revealed that Ragnar would leave the shores on Norway, in a fleet of only two boats. It was such a preposterous notion.

Aslaug stopped. Leaning forward, she sagged against a tree, its rough bark biting into her flesh, yet she felt no pain from it. How could she, the pain of losing Ragnar was all-encompassing, after all.

She bit at her lip, tasting the tang of blood and being relieved at that fact. It meant she was alive. And while she was alive, she would do everything within her power to make sure her vision did not eventuate.

While her people believed their fates were in the hands of the gods, Aslaug was not so sure. Her vision over the years had tempered her ingrained belief that their lives were fated, never to be changed over the course of time. Aslaug had seen things in visions, things she did not doubt would eventuate. However, she had worked hard and helped to change the course of destiny at times.

She pulled herself back from the tree, stood upright, still for a moment, her head looking skyward as the sky started to lighten. Perhaps her visions were merely warnings of what could happen if she didn't alter her course of action. She wondered if this was the truth. It would match up with what everyone said about the gods after all. Aslaug moved on, each step was slow and deliberate, as she thought. Either way, it did not matter what she thought about the gods and destiny. If the gods were showing her these things, she needed to take action. Whether it was to change events, or to keep on the path the gods had put her on, the outcome would be the same.

Aslaug stopped then, at the thought of losing Ragnar. She sobbed; a loud, ugly sound that startled the birds from the treetops around her. Doubling over, Aslaug reached down and grasped at the leafy ground. Clawing at the debris, she grabbed handfuls of the loam and threw it high into the air, her anger forced out of her in a sharp scream. The dirt and leaves rained down on her as she clung to her sides and cried alone there in the forest, far away from anyone she cared about.

Gathering herself, as the dirt stopped falling, she swallowed her grief and moved on. She had work to do. Ragnar's very life depended on it.

It was a long time before Aslaug returned home, her arms weighted down with a multitude of plants and other materials that could be woven together.

She dropped the items inside the door of her house before gathering her children to her. Aslaug hugged them fiercely, as if they were the ones she were about to lose, instead of her husband. She touched their hair and smelled their necks before sitting down with her newly gathered items. She watched her children as she worked, they didn't know it, but they helped to channel her energies while she wove Ragnar a vest.

A vest that she hoped would help him cheat his foolish, prideful death.