Viking Wolf Headdress
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It was a fine day in the spring of the year 865. The sun shone brightly on a green island, its white-walled monastery rising into the clear blue sky behind it. In front of that lay the sparkling waters of the fjord, where fishing boats had pulled up their anchors to enjoy a pleasant morning at anchor before continuing their journey inland for the day’s work.
The air hung heavy and warm with the scent of summer flowers.
The only thing marring this pastoral scene was an enormous bird soaring high overhead: the kingfisher. Its bright yellow beak and piercing cry pierced the peacefulness as if he were announcing his presence by saying “Look out—the kingfisher is coming!”
His piercing call rang over the water like an alarm bell as it called the rest of the birds from their nests below, alerting them to flee the area or risk becoming dinner for the kingfisher.
“You know what you need?” said a deep voice, causing me to startle. A man dressed in a long dark robe stepped onto the path leading up toward the monastery from the dock. “A kingfisher mask.”
I looked at him curiously. I didn’t recognize him; I hadn’t seen a priest since we’d arrived on this strange island some days past. And why would this man want a kingfisher mask? He wasn’t part of my father’s men and I doubted he wanted to join us on our travels anyway. I shrugged; maybe the priest just liked kingfishers.
“What about one of those masks?” asked my friend Jokul from the boat next to mine. We had left off rowing for the time being in favor of taking a break and enjoying the view. The priest nodded approvingly, apparently pleased that we recognized a kingfisher mask when we saw one.
“That’ll do nicely,” he responded, pointing at Jokul’s helmet. “Just get one of your friends to make it for you so they can put it together while you’re working on your shield wall. Your helmet should have a kingfisher in flight along with the kingfisher mask, but the rest is up to you.
Just remember this: the more you use the mask, the better you become; and no matter how well you do, always give something back to those who helped you. That way all will benefit.”
And with that, the priest disappeared among the tall grasses waving in the breeze along the shoreline.
Jokul turned to me as we got ready to resume rowing. “You think that means you can help him now, don’t you? Maybe he knows how to find my dad.”
“Maybe. Or maybe not.” I shook my head, smiling. “But if he does know anything, it won’t matter because you’ll have forgotten everything he told you by the time we see your dad again.”
We pushed ourselves to begin moving once more. The boat rocked as we lifted it into the current and then pulled it across the flat surface of the fjord. We headed south toward land and away from the monastery. There are some things worth paying attention to even if you aren’t quite sure why yet.
***
Kingfisher Mask
“Well, let’s hope that fool is right,” said Gunnar.
He was standing on the deck of the ship, staring toward the horizon and hoping to catch sight of his target. But there was nothing but water in front of us and we still had a good deal of distance to cover before reaching our destination. The wind was calm, the sails unfurled, and the oarsmen labored in silence.
“You’ve been here before?” I asked, looking around at the others gathered on the deck in hopes of learning more about King Vikar. They were my brothers-in-arms, but most of them were strangers. Only Gunnar, Hrolf, and I knew what had brought us to this place.
“No, but we heard about what happened here,” answered Rognvald. “So, we decided to come. What else could we do? Our father is a great warrior, and we owe it to him to fight beside him.”
I smiled to myself at Rognvald’s words. No one knew better than I what it meant to be indebted to a king. When a lord took a man into his household and trained him in arms, he was expected to serve his liege-lord faithfully until such time as death released him from the obligation.
So far, my life has given me little cause to regret my oaths sworn to my liege lord, King Harald Gormsson. It was the same with the other members of the company. We were here because we owed our lives to the king and felt we must repay our debt.
“Did your father tell you about his experiences in Iceland?” I asked. They were both warriors, and I wondered if they had fought together.
“Not really,” Rognvald admitted. “He told us what happened after he came home, but not much about Iceland itself.”
“My father never talked much about fighting either,” said Hrolf. “When I first went to war, I thought that made him a coward. But it wasn’t like he didn’t care; he just didn’t like talking about it. He did say a lot about what it meant to be a soldier and a son of the gods. I guess it was hard for him, being away from his family and the land he loved. But now I understand that better.”
The three of us exchanged glances, knowing we shared something in common with Gunnar. I’m not saying he was weak or cowardly; just that he wasn’t the sort to boast about how well he performed under fire.
It was obvious to anyone who knew him that he would gladly take the brunt of an enemy attack rather than expose himself unnecessarily. As long as he survived, the rest was easy enough.
Hrolf looked over at Gunnar as he continued watching the distant shore and added, “And he doesn’t have any interest in talking about his past. Not to us anyway.”
Gunnar grunted and turned back to stare at the shore as well. “There are some advantages to not having a bunch of blabbermouths running around telling everyone what we think,” he muttered. “It’s not so bad here because people aren’t all that interested in us anyway. But when you get into places where no one cares which side they’re on, it gets complicated.”
Rognvald and Hrolf nodded in agreement with his words.
Gunnar finally sighed and shook his head, turning from the shoreline. “Let’s stop wasting our time with this nonsense and see what this fool thinks he can do for Vikar.”
“What do you mean?” asked Hrolf. “You don’t think he knows anything about the raid?”
“Of course, he knows, it’s just that he isn’t going to say anything until the day is done. And then he might forget whatever it is he saw or heard. Let’s get some food into us and go ashore.”
The four of us descended into the cabin below while two crewmen stood watch above. It seemed to me that with every step we took toward home, I became more aware of my father’s absence. My brothers and I were getting used to being without him, but he should be with us still.
There was always talk among us as to whether he ever found out what happened to the raiding ships when they came home. None of us had seen him for months and we assumed he was dead, but it was possible he had been captured. That possibility had plagued my thoughts since we left Norway, and now it had become more real than I cared to admit.
After a brief respite, we climbed up onto the deck again and waited for Gunner’s son to return with some answers. A few minutes later, he came staggering down the gangplank, a look of confusion on his face.
“Weirdest thing you’ll ever see,” he said. “This fellow here…he’s got no hair!”
I chuckled at the idea of a bald man wandering along the shore at night, but Gunner only shrugged and asked if he’d seen anything else strange. “Nothing much, but there’s a strange-looking bird, almost looks like a raven or crow but bigger, that keeps flying circles around the ship. I think the crew put out some grain for it because it’s eating from their hands.”
The crewman was obviously stalling, hoping for a chance to get back aboard and escape the madness before we arrived. The men standing guard on the deck were also eager to be gone, for they had come to know Gunner well and were glad to leave him behind.
They did not want to see him suffer any more than we wanted to see him die. But neither one dared say anything out loud because the others wouldn’t allow it.
Gunner frowned as he glanced about as though he expected the bird to suddenly appear. He waved off the crewman who offered his hand as he passed, muttering, “Just wait here a while longer. We’ve been waiting long enough already.” Then he turned back toward me as though to ask, “Is that all you need from this fool?”
“No, we need something else,” I replied. I didn’t know why I felt like he needed more of a reason than the obvious one, but something inside told me that this was important to Gunner.
I led the way up on deck again. Gunner walked beside me, shaking his head in disgust. The crew was gathered around Hrolf, trying to make sense of what we might be planning next. One by one, they drifted away as Gunner approached, leaving just myself and my brothers.
The End