1 Chapter 1: Prologue

His sharp eyes sought the shore and found it a while ago, but despite the relief he felt - the relief of every sailor upon seeing desired firm land on the horizon - he did not know how the country would welcome him. He had never seen it, had never stepped upon it, and his father was banished from it for life, by a despicable, shameful decree. But lo and behold, here he is, returning to Norway with explicit invitation from the king.

He knew the journey would soon be over, and so he became more aware of the sights, the sounds and smells that always accompany a sea voyage - the movement of the deck beneath his feet, the creaking of the wood, the sounds the oars made as they hit water, the drizzle of salt in the air that sprayed his skin and left a salty taste upon his tongue when he licked his lips. All of this would be over soon, for months, until spring when he was due to sail home again.

At the same time he thought of the letter he had directed to the king, a letter in which he let His Majesty know that unexpected currents had carried him into lands far to the south of his intended route - and that he foresees, therefore, to arrive rather later than he expected. He hoped the message reached its destination - and he hardly knew why, but he well remembered the scribe he had hired to perform this task. He didn't bother to learn his letters himself, and never needed it. In the scribe's modest little home, they had talked more than he had intended.

Looking back, he was even glad of the unexpected detour. This was the first time he chanced to journey so far south, and the lands he reached fascinated him, even though he had never thought much about the south - he was far more interested in the north and west and the unknown lands which captured his heart and soul and reigned in his dreams.

About a thousand years passed since the birth of the man Christians proclaimed to be god, and Christianity ruled throughout the entire south and middle of Europe. There, he and his people were received with obvious mistrust, suspicion and fear, although he had made it clear from the beginning that they did not come as raiders. Now the church had turned its steps north, and he knew that in the royal court of Norway, too, he will find the same images and statues of the Crucified Man, the same glum temples and the same conversations about saving one's soul by accepting the new Faith.

He expected that a considerable part of his men will be affected by this new influence, and will probably carry the Faith with them onward, to the remote settlements where his father had been pioneer. His father will not like that. As for his people, he cannot do much more than wonder whether this will affect their spirit for better or for worse, or not at all.

Still, he knew that in the north, the Old Gods will not resign their place so easily, and the people will stick to their faith despite the king's intentions to create alliances with the other rulers of Europe. His father, for example - he was certain - would never convert.

The man he had paid to write the letter was short and rather dark, thin-faced and stoop-shouldered, and a black, soft leather cap covered his dark soft curls. His name was Nathan Ben Yossef, and in his home he did not see the image of the Crucified Man.

"The locals fear you," he told Leif, "you, the Vikings who came to raid, to rape and burn and leave desolation after them."

"I am no Viking," protested Leif. "If someone thinks I am, he knows nothing."

"It matters not. Just as much as they fear you, we, the Jews, fear the locals amongst whom we live. Sooner or later their viciousness will be turned against us, and the daily humiliations will escalate to threats, and those - to robbery and violence, rape and murder. And once again, we will have to travel far from places we know, just as our forefathers had."

These words created an echo in Leif's heart. His father was banished from Norway, the country he loved, for crimes of blood and crimes of gold and crimes of love, and perhaps those last ones were what played the most crucial part in his verdict.

His sister appeared behind his shoulder, walking like a quiet, dangerous wild animal, and shook her red hair off her face. The color of her hair was just like his. Leif repressed a sigh. Women at sea... among things he considered a nuisance, the presence of women on board of a ship was a prominent one, but for his mother this was a chance to see Norway again, for the first and perhaps only time in many years - and this chance she was unwilling to forgo. His mother was also the one who insisted on taking Freydis with them.

"I know that your father will feel lonely without Freydis and me," she said, "but a young woman needs to be under the watchful eye of her mother. I wouldn't trust anyone else to look after Freydis."

Leif was highly skeptical regarding how much influence the watchful eye of a mother will hold in the case of Freydis, but did not object. It can be said in his sister's favor that she did all she could to stay out of his way during the journey. She was unusually, almost suspiciously quiet. And now, coming towards him, she looked amused - as if she succeeded in tricking them all. Leif looked directly in her eyes. Both brother and sister had regular, handsome features, but while one of Freydis's eyes was icy-blue, like Leif's, her other eye was a dark chasm, almost black, with flecks of copper around the iris. This gave her an appearance which startled many.

"We are very close to land, Freydis," he told her, "and I must warn you, Norway is not Greenland or Iceland, where you might feel free to do whatever comes into your head. We will arrive straight at court, and I expect you to be obedient and quiet, and never leave Mother's side for as long as we stay there."

It didn't escape his eye that the left side of her mouth, the sensual mouth with the full red lips, moved in a brief, sarcastic twist which plainly stated how she felt about whatever he had to say on the matter. But when she spoke, her voice was placid enough.

"I do not mean to bring you trouble, Leif," she said. "I know how important it is to you to be accepted at court."

It was so. This was his chance to turn from a lifelong exile into a well-known, well-respected man. He might even get ships, goods, people - everything that is needed to enlarge the distant settlements of Greenland, and to sail west again, following the coast that had captured his heart. He did not want Freydis to know he fears she might damage his chances of success, though.

"This is not about me," he told her. "I say this mainly for Mother, and for your sake as well. If you don't behave too foolishly, we might even find you a husband."

The derisive twist of the mouth became more prominent. "I have no need of a husband," said Freydis. "I was already married once, remember?"

"And I am sorry to tell you this, sister -" said Leif with quiet confidence, "there will probably be men around - many men, even - but not anyone who comes close to Thorvard."

"I care nothing for Thorvard," said Freydis. Her voice was calm, but her eyes burned, and Leif saw the pain behind the anger. He and Thorvard have always been like brothers, and though he knew it would probably do no good, he warned his friend when he noticed the ardent passion that broke out between Thorvard and his sister. But all was in vain. Thorvard would not give her up - not until he paid the full price and found himself betrayed, humiliated and nearly killed. He was forced to leave, and Leif didn't blame him. He would have done the same.

A jolt of anger towards his parents flickered in his heart every time he thought of Freydis. It was only natural that the first and only daughter born into the family after three boys will grow up spoiled, but one could still expect his parents to be a little more firm concerning her upbringing. For instance, whatever reason could there be to allow and even encourage a girl to learn her letters? Leif himself was certain that a man has no need of reading or writing if for most of his life his hands hold an axe, an oar or a bow. If Freydis had not been allowed to start with the stupid reading in the first place, she would never have known the cursed scrolls that planted such destructive ideas in her head; her studies brought her, eventually, to excessive self-confidence, dealings with dark magic, a dangerously rebellious attitude, and the dissolution of her marriage to Thorvard. And it did not come as a surprise, either - as her older brother, one who had known Freydis all her life, protected her and teased her alternately, he knew it was only to be expected. He loved Freydis, but had no illusions as far as her character was concerned.

He looked at his sister's receding back, at her thin and upright figure, and the head full of red hair. So immersed in thought he was that he did not notice his mother coming near him, until she stood quite close.

Even after many years of life in wild, mostly unsettled Greenland, his mother had managed to preserve her smooth, calm countenance and her slim womanly figure. Her dark hair, though it was liberally streaked with grey, was thick and collected in a shiny sleek knot at the back of her head. When Leif looked at her, he could easily imagine how captivating she had once been to his father, Erik, whom everyone called Erik the Red - how she made him forget the limitations of his social standing, and do all in his power to convince a daughter of a rich and influential man to marry him in secret. This caused fury among his mother's relations, and certainly played a part in the king's decision to banish Erik from Norway for as long as he lived.

"I did not think I would ever see these shores again," his mother said, and her joy mingled with melancholy.

"Sometimes I wonder," said Leif, "how it would have been if I were born and raised here. We could all have lived a different life."

"I am not sorry for what had come to pass," his mother said with determination, "but your father and I had been treated unfairly. Our only crime was that we loved each other and got married."

Leif smiled at her affectionately. The love and devotion of his parents to each other never failed to touch his heart.

"It might have been your only crime, Mother. My father, I fear, had a few other deeds that spoke against him."

"Norway is not what it had been thirty years ago," said his mother, ignoring his last words although she knew, of course, that her husband was not an innocent, harmless creature. "You, my son, have an opportunity to make your home in Norway again... if you wish it, and after you complete your journey to the West. The king was highly impressed by what you and your father managed to achieve, and he knows it is in his interests to bring you closer to him - that was, of course, the reason behind this invitation. It did not surprise me at all."

"I do not know if I want to make my home in a land that slammed its doors in my father's face," said Leif. "Besides, in Greenland we have status, an established consequence, a home my father had built... here, we have nothing. We'd be about as valuable as dirt under one's feet."

But his mother went on as though she didn't hear him. "Know, my son, that I mean accept the new Faith. It will be to the benefit of us all. I advise you to do the same."

He shrugged his shoulders. "I am not a man of strong faith, you know. You, of course, may do what you think is right, Mother. But you must understand my father will not see it in a favorable light."

A slight crease appeared on her brow, but was gone almost as soon as he perceived it. "I know your father is very much devoted to the old gods," she said, "I do not expect to convert him at once, but I know he will allow me to arrange such matters for myself in the manner I see fit. And maybe I will be able to convince Freydis as well."

"Freydis will accept any god, if she thinks she might gain from it," said Leif, "but you and I both know what her declarations of loyalty are worth."

"The most important thing is that she is done with her folly. She must not go back to it. She had already caused enough damage, to herself more so than to anyone else."

"With this," said Leif, "I most definitely agree."

As the ship got closer to the coast, the excitement of Freydis grew. After the isolated settlement in Greenland, and the remote farms in Iceland, and an unbearably long journey in the friendly but exasperating company of her mother and brother, the arrival at Trondheim was a blessed release to her. In Norway she will regain her freedom, in Norway she will be able to detach herself from the forced protection of her family, and no one will be able to prevent her from spreading her wings. She was too clever to declare it openly, but she had not the least intention of accepting any authority - not of her father, not of her brother, not of a husband and not of the Church.

Freedom. The freedom to do whatever she wants - it is worth everything she had done, worth all that had happened, is it not? So she told herself, repressing the discomfort she felt when she thought of the price she had paid for studying the lore of magic and connecting with certain people; the price she paid for her aspiration to leadership.

As a rule, girls were not supposed to be brought up free and independent. They were supposed to turn dull and obedient, and be interested in nothing more than keeping house and finding a husband, and once they found him, pleasing him and popping out a brood of children.

Was my fault really so great? Freydis only wanted her life to be a little more than that - not just for her own sake, but for that of her family. Power, respect, consequence. They deserved it, the brave Red Erik and her brother Leif, and she, Freydis, with her intelligence and talent. However, in this world you cannot sit back and expect to receive all that you deserve on a silver platter. You must fight for it. You must reach out with a strong, grasping hand, and take it. And that was what she had tried to do - and be damned the bastards that stood across her path. The fault was of others, not mine, Freydis told herself again, clenching her fists. She cannot leave it be, and so a new ambition joined the old ones - revenge. Thorvard did not understand it. No one could understand it.

Once again she was trapped in her contradictory feelings regarding this invitation Leif received to the Norwegian court. On the one hand, the invitation was a rare opportunity for their family, after so many years of exile. It was a chance for Leif, and therefore for his siblings as well, to climb another rung of the ladder. If Leif acts wisely, he will become a valued, respected, influential man. On the other hand, it was very clear the timing of the invitation was not decided by chance. Undoubtedly, rumours of Leif's achievements reached the king's ears, and he sensed an opportunity to gain even more power and influence for the throne. The king, the earls that acted for the banishment of her father, Erik, like a mad dog - they will take advantage of what he and his son had done. The idea grated on Freydis's pride. What her family deserves, she thought savagely, is not royal pardon - it's an apology and the elevation of their father to the position he might have had if he had not been sent into exile.

It was not very difficult to guess what the king wanted. They - Erik the Red, his family and his people - were the founders of the Greenland settlement. That land, frozen and unwelcoming as it might be, belonged to them now. And despite the difficulties of life in it, the land held treasures - skins of white bears and seals, whale ivory and walrus tusks, and inside the country perhaps layers of silver and copper, as her brother Thorvald suspected and hoped. He had taken great pains to travel up and across the country. The people were few, lonely in the icy land that was called Greenland not without a fair bit of irony, but at least no one bothered them. In Greenland, among his loyal men, Red Erik was as good as a king.

Her brother Leif sailed even further to the west, in that journey she insisted to be part of, the journey she would never, never, never forget. She shuddered. The tortured faces of Helgi, Tur and Gudrid still stood against her closed eyes, as if burned on the inside of her eyelids. She didn't mean for it to happen. She loved Tur and Gudrid, two innocent youths who had just been wed, and even silly Helgi, who was devoted as a puppy to her, even though he knew full well she is a married woman, and faithful to her husband. Yes, I had been faithful, Freydis insisted stubbornly. But during that trip, Thorvard was not by her side, and Helgi took advantage of that and trailed her every step, which eventually led him to his death.

Thorvard didn't want her to go. He pleaded, reasoned, begged, threatened. After he despaired of influencing her directly, he spoke with Leif. Still, Freydis was to go, to the beautiful, new, cruel land. And the face of the sorcerer, terrifyingly calm, stood before her eyes as he spoke and said - though she could not tell how she understood his words -

"You we shall not harm. It brings on the wrath of the spirits, to harm a woman who carries a child."

A great terror went through her, for though then she did not know with absolute certainty she is pregnant, she sensed it was true. And indeed, it turned out that Thorvard's seed had been planted in her womb, that last night they spent together before the journey - the last night when she had lain in her husband's arms.

Revenge, she told Leif that morning when she pretended she had only just gotten up, and the lifeless bodies of Helgi, Tur and Gudrid were found by their camp. Revenge, at once. But Leif said again and again that they are too few, that it would be too dangerous, that they came only to explore, not to conquer, and that he did not plan to go into any confrontation with the natives. They must turn back, her brother had decided, go back home and return later on with more people - and soon after, they raised sail.

"I cannot risk the lives of the other men," he had said quietly, watching how her furious tears fell as they threw a last look upon the receding coast of Vinland. "And something else, Freydis - as insufferable as it may seem now, it might be that someday we will have to negotiate with these locals. The bodies of our poor friends give hint of being sacrificed in some religious rite, and I have no doubt that the natives offered them to their gods as a gift. They returned the bodies, and did not attack our camp, although they could have. This can be seen as a warning. Maybe they are too few to try and do us all in, or maybe they aren't interested in an open battle with us. I intend to go back there with more people and better weapons, ready to fight if need be. Still, I do not exclude a possibility to reaching some sort of agreement with the locals."

Agreement! Freydis had gone white with fury every time she remembered that conversation. No, no agreement can exist after what had come to pass. Only revenge, revenge, revenge.

Of course, later on some meddlesome fool asked why Helgi, Tur and Gurdid walked out of the camp in the middle of the night in the first place, and how come the watchmen who were on duty at the time did not notice them. Someone threw this query into the air in the presence of Leif, and Leif directed that same question to their father, and Erik wondered in the ears of Thorvard - and he, who had had his suspicions already, drove Freydis into a corner and demanded answers. The revelation of her lie caused the situation to deteriorate pretty quickly.

It was not my fault, Freydis told herself time and time again. It is not my fault.

And still... a new land, fertile and forested, with clear fresh water and abundant game. And a promise of even fairer places beyond it. It is no wonder the rumour had traveled and reached the king. If he succeeds to wheedle an oath of complete fealty out of Leif, Greenland and Vinland will fall into his lap like ripe fruit.

But to her brother's credit it may be said, thought Freydis, that it is difficult to imagine him being so servile.