Heimta - A Viking Novel

Ein

Believe me when I say that a lot about what we know about the Vikings is correct. They were large, brutal and fearless warriors who sailed the open sea, pillaging lands and claiming their riches. I don't just know this from reading history books or watching whatever B movie Viking film you're probably thinking about. How do I know, you ask? I know because I was there.

Ok, so let me elaborate. No, I am not some immortal deity from your paranormal fiction novel. Would you believe me if I told you it was all one big mistake; a twist of fate that made the impossible possible? I wouldn't believe me either, but it's true. I should probably start from the beginning, right? Well, here goes.

"Seriously, the British Museum?" My friend Eleanor sighed as she unsubtly broadcasted her distain at the idea from the back of the lecture hall. "Didn't we cover that in high school?"

"I can assure you, there is plenty of work I can leave you if you'd prefer, Ms. Wood." Professor Nicholls addressed her complaint with his usual level of gentle sarcasm that we all knew and loved him for. Eleanor rolled her eyes at him, and taking her silence as compliance, he moved on with the rest of his little speech about the trip we were taking on Monday.

"Don't forget you are representing the University, so dress appropriately. Yes, Ms. Wood I am talking to you." Eleanor rolled her eyes at him in response.

"Eliza, please thank your father for lending me his copy. It was quite the read." Mr Nicholls stopped me at the door, holding out a thick book bound in leather. My parents were history buffs, both lecturers at the University. As their cursed child, I was forced to live with their fascination with everything ancient which ended up in me following in their footsteps. It also apparently made me popular with Professor Nicholls.

"Thanks, Professor. I will tell him." I smiled graciously while taking the book and slipping it into my bag. He gave me one final nod before allowing me to follow my fellow students out the door.

"So I was thinking, how close to the guidelines do you think we have to stick to? Maybe there will be a little leeway?" Eleanor mused, linking her arm through mine as we wandered down the hall towards the large double doors and out to freedom.

"I think wearing a skirt that barely covers your ass may be pushing it a little." I smirked at her. She shot me an unimpressed look, then shook her fiery locks from her face. Eleanor was blessed with the most beautiful hair on the planet. Her thick red curls needed next to no maintenance, her long hair falling naturally into perfect ringlets which contrasted perfectly with her milk white skin and intense green eyes. She stood at an amazing slender 5'10 without heels, towering over most of the other students. I unfortunately was not blessed with any of the above. My blonde hair that I refused to highlight despite Eleanor's pleas fell stick straight down to my waist, and it couldn't hold a curl to save its life, even with heat. I had dull grey eyes that only rarely appeared blue, and golden skin from my father's side. I stood at 5'6, not entirely short for a girl but I always looked that way stood next to Eleanor.

"Who's going to notice me if I'm wearing a frumpy old outfit? Just because I study it that doesn't mean I have to dress like a Historian." She complained as we headed towards our dorm. I scanned her from head to toe then shook my head. "You'll get noticed, believe me." Eleanor scoffed and rolled her eyes again, clearly still unhappy with the whole dressing sensibly thing.

"At least you're ok, an outfit like that does absolutely nothing for my figure." She continued, making me suppress a sigh. Eleanor and I had been best friends since primary school, and had been inseparable since the moment we met. This however, did not mean she was easy to be friends with. Eleanor was narcissistic, shallow, spoilt, and could have a wicked mean streak if you got on the wrong side of her. That aside, she was fiercely loyal, and I loved her despite her flaws. We spent the rest of the weekend hanging out and discussing again and again ways she could try and push the boundaries on the whole dress code thing. Before long it was Monday morning, and we were piling 25 students onto a hot smelly bus ready for the trip to London. Eleanor had finally relented and agreed to stick to the dress code, but she wore more dramatic makeup to compensate, which meant we were late and lost out on the good seats. We ended up sat behind Declan the mouth breather who always had his face buried in a textbook, and in front of Clive and Andrew who never stopped arguing on who was better - Megadeth or Iron Maiden. Eleanor and I both took a headphone each of her iPod and stuck them in our adjacent ears, then she blasted out some Bruno Mars making a smile appear on both our faces as we began dancing to 'Uptown Funk.'

The class crowded around the large stone-walled, marble effect foyer at the museum, some looking around in wonder and others in reluctance. Some didn't even bother to look up from their 4-inch phone screens. I was the exception, having been to most of the museums in London more times than I could count. My parents insisted on visiting each time they had a new exhibit, so I knew this place like the back of my hand. I even knew some of the security guards by name. While waiting for Professor Nicholls to collect enough maps for everyone, I glanced up at the giant poster they always had in the foyer, advertising whatever the current main exhibit was. '' was written in large letters at the top of the dark poster, the background that of a Viking ship sailing through the rolling sea waves. Although it was an exhibit I'd never seen before, I felt no obligation to feign enthusiasm like I had to with my parents. They would always look at me expectantly, and I hated to see the joy fall from their faces when I looked as though I wasn't happy to be there. Don't get me wrong, I love history. I'm not against it, but I also don't like it crammed down my throat. The things we do to keep the ones we love happy, eh?

"Right everyone, make sure you stay in the group. Also, no touching anything, sitting on anything... That means you, O'Connor." The group burst into giggles at Professor Nicholls before he led the way towards the first exhibit.

We spent the first half of the day going around the lower level exhibitions before stopping for some lunch in one of several cafe areas.

"How is it there are no cute guys here?" Eleanor huffed before taking a bite of her apple.

"This is a museum El, not Tinder." I smirked at her. She shot me a glare, then let out a dramatic sigh.

"I thought you were supposed to meet handsome artistic men in places like this?" She grumbled, looking around again at people walking past our group hopefully.

"I think you've been watching too many chick flicks." I rolled my eyes at her.

"Must you always be so pessimistic, Eliza? If you put half as much effort into other things as you do sarcasm and being negative, it could open up so many windows for you." I deadpanned before replying simply, "you've been at your mum's self-help books again, haven't you?"

"See? There it is again." I gave her an unimpressed look before finishing off my sandwich. Once everyone had finished eating, we finished all of the other exhibitions before the main exhibit. The Professor led the way towards the room with cabinet upon cabinet of ancient treasures ranging from coins to weapons and armour. I pretty much switched off throughout most of the lecture, just enjoying wandering around the room and taking in all the wonders of a lost time.

"Eliza, come on!" I snapped out of my daze to see Eleanor the other side of the room, waving at me frantically to hurry up before disappearing around the corner. I hadn't even realised that the group had left the room, and I was standing alone amongst the treasures. Shaking my head, I hoisted my bag further up my shoulder before walking the length of the room towards the exit. I stopped when something flashed from behind one of the glass cases, veering off towards it. Tucked behind the case was some kind of amulet with just its chain sticking out of it. I crouched down and tugged on the chain, sliding out the dirty gold amulet from where it was wedged. The amulet was cool in my hands, its face covered in Nordic markings and symbols. I stood up and brushed off some of the dust that it had picked up from behind the cabinet, rubbing harder to get a better look at it. I frowned when suddenly the amulet grew warm in my hand, glowing brighter as the room around me started to spin. A scream erupted from my throat the faster it spun, the sound lost in the whooshing in my ears. Round and around the room went, blurring into a cloud of grey and emptiness. I squeezed my eyes shut, beginning to feel nauseous as my body began to hurl itself around. I struggled to breathe, the large gasps doing nothing to fill my lungs. I was suffocating, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I felt lightheaded as my body continued to be deprived of oxygen, eventually slipping into unconsciousness.