My mother was right about the whereabouts of my father. As soon as I enter the orchard, I see him sitting near the stream with his head down. In his lap I can see a large book that lays unopened.

To avoid interrupting his train of thought, I try to approach him as quietly as possible. But my father, being ever so quiet himself, hears my footfalls and turns around to look at me.

"Hello, kaerr," my father says, turning forward as I join his side in the cold grass near the stream.

"Hello, papa," I respond, my eyes immediately drawn to the book in his possession. 

On the front cover is a rune, but I do not know which one. While my father taught me how to read our written language, he did not teach me anything of runes. 

My parents were very devoted to the gods, so they did not let us dabble in any sorcery or shamanistic practices. Our studies mainly focused on the origin of the world, the stories of the gods, and how to show appreciation to them.

Having an apple orchard, we of course learned of Idunn* and her golden apples. Odinª, Thorº, Loki⁺, and Friggⁿ were among the many gods that we were educated on. 

"Father, what does that rune mean?" I ask as he notices my eyes crawling over the leather book.

He exhales heavily before clearing his throat and answering, "This is ansuz¹, the rune of Odin. It is the most powerful of all runes."

"If you know about runes, why did you not teach me?" I ask him, watching as his bony fingers skim the branded leather.

Father pauses, his eyes scanning the stream before us, and then returns his gaze to mine.

"The seasons of the year do not arrive before their time, my kaerr," he answers slowly, "For as long as I remember, I have tried to stall you from your season."

I hold my breath as I wait for him to continue.

"But I fear I cannot hold you back any longer," father smiles, "I have much to tell you, Runa. With the arrival of our guests, I fear I will not have time to explain myself."

"Say it now, papa!" I beg him, "We have time now!"

He looks me in the eye and laughs softly. Anger bites at my stomach and I clench my jaw tightly. Yet another man laughing in my face today.

"Father, please!" I beg him, "I just want to understand! You know why those vikingrs are here? Why haven't you told us?"

"It isn't that simple, Runa," he frowns, his brows knitting together in stress, "I have to try my best to keep my family out of harm's way. If something happened to any of you, my heart would shatter.."

Every bone in my body wants to get frustrated with him, but I can tell even having this conversation hurts him.

"B-But our ignorance will not protect us," I hiss, "If anything, it will only hurt us more! You know this!"

"Runa!" He says, his voice going low and sharp, forcing me to stop arguing immediately and regress back into submission, "Listen to me, please!"

I hold my breath once more, my heart beating loudly in my ears as I wait in agony for him to continue. Submission has never been my strong suit.

"This book contains all the rituals and runes of our ancestors," he breathes, "It was given to me by a shaman of a viking tribe, and it came with this..."

Father reaches back into his side and pulls out a small cloth tied with twine. He hands it to me, pressing it into my palm and wrapping my cold fingers around it. 

I run my fingers across the fabric and gently untie the twine. The fabric falls to the side as the inside is uncovered.

"What is this?" I ask earnestly, never having seen something such clear orange and gold in my life.

"It is amber," father whispers as though someone was listening, "Whatever you do, no one must know that you have this. Understand?"

I glance at the stone one second more before tying the cloth back around it and fixing it at my hip. 

"I understand," I respond quietly.

He clears his throat, "Now go get washed for dinner."

"Yes, papa," I answer, holding the leather book close to my chest as I stand and begin my trek back home.

As I walk, my fathers words overwhelm me so that I cannot even feel my feet hit the ground anymore. This numb feeling continues all the way until dinner.

To get ready, I had used a bucket of water to wash my face and hands and then changed out of my working clothes. My sister, Asta, had then taken my hair out of the working braids and got it to sit in a way where it looked halfway decent.

"How come I can’t go to the dinner? Aren’t I old enough?" Asta had said as she worked on my hair.

"Asta, why on earth would you want to eat with a savage?" I had responded teasingly.

"Why, I could’ve sworn I saw one that looked relatively charming," she had laughed, making my face suddenly go hot.

If she hadn't been behind me, she would've seen my blush.

But now, as I stand before the town hall doors, every worry that plagued me over the course of the day paled in comparison to the fear that I felt in opening these doors.

Forcefully, I knock my fist against the wooden door and wait for a reply. Seconds pass before the door opens. When it does, Ulmar and two other men exit the building. Ulmar and his men are now somewhat clean and entirely weaponless. 

As the door shuts, I inspect the men and find myself challenged by a pair of familiar brown eyes.

It's Henrik. I almost didn't even recognize him; his face is missing the dirt and grime, and his hair is neatly combed. He stares back at me with an interesting expression upon his face; I cannot tell if it's shock or worry. I want to say hello, but I think it would be better if Ulmar didn't know we had met.

"Follow me," I say slowly, beginning to feel slightly more comfortable than I was before.

In silence, the men follow behind me.

Once we reach my home, everyone is seated around our table, which is set with the food my mother worked on earlier. 

Bjorn and Ulmar sit at the ends of the table while mother and I face Henrik and the other man. The other man is as long and thin as a string bean, and has a gray beard that reaches the middle of his stomach. 

"Allow me to introduce my comrades. This is my son, Henrik, and friend Sindri Dag," Ulmar says before the meal starts.

"Pleasure to meet you. This is my daughter, Runa, and my wife Ingrid," my father replies kindly.

"I am so honored to have a beautiful meal with such a beautiful family," Ulmar says with a smile. 

The sides of my father's eyes crinkle as he forces a cordial smile and says, "So let us eat."

Bjorn begins to eat, followed by the other men. I pick at my food, not hungry enough to eat but not wanting to be rude.

"So, Runa, how old are you?" Ulmar begins, catching me off guard as he forces me to be the subject of conversation.

"18," I answer solidly, not sure whether to keep my eyes down or to look him in the eye.

"Ah, and are you married?" he asks with a small smirk.

"No," I respond coldly. 

Ulmar's bearded face contorts with distaste and his yellowy eyes find my face.

"Is there something wrong with you?" he snorts. 

I swallow the vile words I would like to say and respond, "I can read. That scares men."

Henrik and I lock eyes as Ulmar laughs at my response. We blink at each other and both of us quickly look away.

The rest of the meal is nice and cordial between both parties. For the most part, I avoid Henrik's eyes to the best of my ability. 

Once the meal is over and my mother and I begin clearing the table, the air in the room changes. Ulmar leans forward and clears his throat. 

"Let's get down to brass tacks," Ulmar says. 

My mother and I are to clean off the plates in silence and pretend we can't hear it, but I stand with my ears pricked to listen.

"We have someone telling us that you know a little something about the Godstones," Ulmar states gruffly.

"Of course I know about them. Everyone knows about them," my father responds shortly, "What brings them up so suddenly?"

Ulmar's gleaming eyes flit to his companions and then back to my father.

"One of our ships was attacked by the Brandr. The last survivor was sent back with a message from Thorgrim Bori himself," Ulmar says in a hiss. His words are heavy like smoke and they sit above our dining room like fog.

"Supposedly," Sindri's gruff voice says as he leans his bony arms on the table, "He has begun searching for the stones. There are eight, as you know… He has three of them."

My father's voice immediately sounds urgent, "If the legends are true, we cannot let him gather all of them!"

Suddenly, the stone in my pocket becomes painfully apparent. An itch of anxiety bites at my hands and I already feel myself begin to shake.

"That is why we have come to you. Our shaman spoke of you as a resource. I don't know why she spoke of you. Maybe you could help us understand," Ulmar responds with a purse of his lips.

Silence echoes for several moments before I hear my father shift in his chair and then inhale to speak.

"I have something that could help…" he says, and I know what he's going to say next.

"Runa, bring the book."

I had put it underneath my mattress for the time being, so I quietly go up to the loft and find it. Upstairs, my siblings are preparing for bed. My mother got them to stay quiet for the meal, so they remain so while I grab the book and return to the table.

Respectfully, I hand it to my father and return to my mother's side washing dishes. 

"Is anything about the stones inside?" I hear Ulmar ask expectantly.

"Yes, there is," my father exhales, "I can give this to you, but I expect you to use the knowledge with caution."

Ulmar shakes his head, "That will not do, Bjorn. I'm sorry, but no one on our ship can read."

The room freezes. The hairs on my arm stand up and an empty feel slithers into my gut.

"I can go with you," Bjorn says finally. 

Ingrid drops her metal plate with a clatter. My heart jumps into my throat and as I race to my father's side. I don't know whether I'm angry or heartbroken.

"No, you cannot!" I exclaim, now completely out of my place, "There must be another way!"

My father glares in a way that sends a shard of ice into my chest. 

"Who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do?" my father booms, "Your behavior embarrasses me!"

My heart races and my gaze turns desperately to Ulmar, "You cannot expect a nearly disabled man to go along on your voyages!"

Mother tries to grab my arm, but I fight her away with salty tears burning my eyes. Bjorn stands from his chair and holds his hand out to Ulmar, who also stands.

Without looking at my mother and I, my father reaches his hand out to Ulmar and they shake.

"I will go, and that is final."

On my shoulder, my mother begins to cry silently.

----------

Idunn* : a goddess who belongs to the Aesir tribe of deities; the owner and dispenser of a fruit that imparts immortality

Odinª : the ruler of the Aesir tribe of deities; the divine patron of rulers

Thorº : a major god of all branches of the Germanic peoples; defender of the Aesir gods and their fortress

Loki⁺ : the trickster god of Norse mythology

Friggⁿ : the highest-ranking of the Aesir goddesses; the wife of Odin, the leader of the gods, and the mother of Baldur

(https://norse-mythology.org/)