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A longboat, decorated with the finest colors and carvings, held a corpse.
The corpse used to be a woman, a mother, a wife. Now, she was dressed for her final journey, and the boat was filled with gold, wheat, her armor and her bow with the arrows beside it. The people filled the longboat with everything they thought she might need when reaching the Hall that only warriors can feast in.
The longboat was pushed to the water, and the boat, and the woman began their journey through the fjord.
''Do not cry my child. Tonight, she drinks with the Gods, in Valhalla,'' spoke the elderly woman. Even though her words were meant to comfort me, I only cried more.
As I watched my mother sail away, and my eyes bled, I felt a hand touch my back. It was my husband, Jarl Gunnarson, and I could not help but flinch at his touch. ''Do not worry, wife. She might not be here for the birth of our son, but she will remain in your heart.''
At the thought of my unborn child, I placed a hand on my still flat stomach. We had just received the news of my pregnancy a little while ago. I knew my duty as a wife, but nothing about this was what I wanted. I wanted a child, some day, but not with him, not like this.
Wiping my tears away with the back of my hand, I cleared my throat to speak. ''Thank you, husband. You are too kind.'' I spoke with lies, nothing about him seemed kind to me anymore.
We gave the signal, and a single burning arrow was shot to the boat. It did not take long for the longboat to be filled with the dancing flames, and with that, others from our town began to make their way to the town hall, to celebrate the life of the one who died.
I however, could not. My eyes were stuck on that longboat taking my mother away from me. Stealing her, leaving me alone. She was the only one I had left, and now she was gone.
Something on the other side of the fjord caught my eye. Rustling of the bushes and flashes of the animals running around. One of them no doubt will at some point end up at our table and our bellies.
Switching my gaze to my left hand, I stare at my ring, the one binding me to Hall Gunnarson. The disgust I now held, was hidden from my face, yet it was burning inside me with flames larger than a bonfire.
I was sixteen, barely even bled yet. But I was without a choice, without a say in the matter. My mother sold me to Jarl Gunnarson, to become his wife. We were without wealth, barely had any food, but Hall Gunnarson had taken a liking to me and offered a trade. He would give her a substantial amount of gold, and would provide for her a certain amount of food and pelts every year.
He was a good man, a gentle man when without a horn full of ale. I had spent most of our five years of marriage unharmed, but sometimes he gifted me with bruised cheeks and split lips.
He was a kind man, until he wasn't. Only a few months ago he did the unforgivable deed.
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The feast had ended long ago, yet many people yet remained drinking, talking and fucking at the town hall.
I retreated back to our room early, and simply talked with my servant, a young woman called Gyda. I consider her my friend, perhaps even my only friend. We braided each others hair and talked of the men in our town. I was hoping she would find a respectable suitor for herself.
''Iona!''
Our laughter was cut down by a voice belonging to my husband. The voice was something that I recognized, he was drunk. He would want to lay with me tonight, and like every other night similar to this, I would refuse. He would get angry and try to take me by force, but I would get away and he would apologize the morning after. Turning to face Gyda, I look her straight in the eye and command her with a forceful smile. We both knew she would not be allowed to stay.
''Go, do not come back until dawn. Tell your mother to come meet me again soon, yes?'' And with a reluctant nod, she leaves. Her mother helped my mother give birth to me, and their friendship brought me and Gyda together.
Just as the curtains separating our sleeping quarters from the rest of our room opens, I turn around to face my husband.
''Hall, what is it that you need, husband?'' I ask, my hands tucked behind my back like an obedient wife. I tried to hide my irritation from my voice, for it would do me no good if he knew how I despised his drunken ways.
''The warmth between your legs, and a son. I have a feeling Odin will bless us tonight,'' He slurred while taking small, unsteady steps to my direction. He had already begun to remove his clothes and was nearly bared. He brought his hands on my hips and tried to pull me to him.
''Husband, you are drunk. I am feeling unwell, please. Should we not wait for tomorrow?'' I tried to reason with him, even though I knew that it would be wasteful. He would never listen reason, only my fists, that would soon find their way to his face, no doubt.
Frustrated by my lack of excitement, he forced me down. He began to rip my dress, all the while I was trying to plead with him to stop. Speaking with words I did not understand, he exposed my back and began to lift my dress to reveal my backside for him.
''Hall, please. Stop, you are hurting me!'' I again, tried to reason with him. He pushed my back towards the ground with his other hand, while the other was trying to get his manhood up.
As my hands were free, I took my chance and tried to push him away from me. That only earned me a slap and a fist on my cheek. Shocked, I stilled. This was different than the last times. There was no reasoning with him, my fighting was in vain and even when drunk, he was fully capable at getting what he wants.
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He was able to impregnate me that night. I knew my duty as a wife would be to bare his children, but I was not ready for it yet. Hall however, seems to be in a rush, no doubt because of his age. More than twenty years separate us, but his first wife died in a shield wall many years ago, leaving him widowed and without an heir.
I do not love my husband, nor do I like him. I grew used to his presence, but now I am terrified of him. I did as a wife should, I allowed him in my bed, I allowed him my touch, my comfort and my company when ever he wanted to drink horns full of ale and eat our stocks of meat empty, and this was my pay?
My mind is brought back to the moment at hand by a howl.
My eyes open and I find myself staring through the flames of my mother's longboat, and see a wolf. A grayish wolf staring right at me. Tilting its head back, it lets out another howl, but this howl I can identify.
I do not think I have ever heard a howl so full of sorrow, so broken. The howl reaches my heart and crushes it. The howl brings me emotions I can not identify, but the heartbreak is clearly there. It is almost as if the death of my mother did not bring pain only to me, but to the howling wolf as well.
''Iona, are you coming?'' Asked my husband, startling me. With a sigh, I turn around and walk away from the pier and the wolf, sharing my pain.
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So here you have it. The first chapter of this book.
