Historical Setting: 793 C.E. Moorings at Bergenshalvoyen
We are up the coast briskly, by the sail alone. At Bergenshalvoyen we take up the oars and follow the river along the peninsula to the rocky beach section of the harbor. My personal things, deerskins, and now my new shirt are folded next to the foot of my rowing stool. Emil is sorting through his personal trunk for his shirt – an undyed wool, pale cream as a white sheep’s wool. Now, he sees my shirt is red.
“You’re a thrall! I thought you were one of us! I showed you my personal things! And you never even told me what you were.”
“I didn’t know until I was assigned a shirt. Does that make a difference?”
“Of course! We are different now. I shouldn’t have let you see my Christian things.”
As we are making our way onto the shore some worn waxed sails from the ships are already spread as tarps for camping on the beach. I have deer skins that make a fine lean-to. I invite Emil to share the shelter with me, since there is room enough for two people. I should have realized that “share” is not something he understands. Now he has taken my extra hide. So, now I will be sleeping out on the rocks with the other thralls. With night fires burning, no one is freezing.
Tonight, the clear skies are stunning. And I am thinking of Sjókona, telling me I needed to stay with her because there were things I didn’t know. She said there was ‘dagaz’ for light of the gods. Are these beams of pinks and greens that dance through these nights the thing she said I didn’t know? Does anyone know this?
More ships are arriving each day and here is that ship that brought Sjókona and I on the West wind. It’s landed here, along with others that have come from across that same sea. I’m watching that particular ship. I told one of the sailors that Sjókona was there alone and that she needed to return across the sea to her home. Now lots of longships are arriving here, so I am asking if anyone knows of her, and if she is safe.
One grizzly Norseman raises an eyebrow and grins.
“Ah, yes, Woman of the sea, mother of the serpents, she said she was waiting there to receive the child of the gods. We, being generous men of the sea offered – Ah, but you have to wait to hear this story told.”
(Continues Tuesday, April 29, 2025)
Lazarus Ink 