Page 66 of Alien Viking's Plunder

As they came down from the mountain, the air got warmer and the lands stretched in front of them. It was made up of rolling hills with fields and creeks and occasional clusters of trees filled with little leaves. It was obviously springtime, and the air was fragrant with herbs and the colorful flowers that lined the grasslands and the fields. Josie spotted livestock grazing, not sure what to make of the big alien animals. They were big, but seemed harmless enough.

In the distance there was a plume of black smoke.

They found a narrow path and walked fast along it, Josie having to nearly jog to keep up with Bragr’s long strides.

The road crested a hill, and in front of them they saw a farmstead with one building that had clearly been on fire, but which was only smoking.

“Only the barn was burned,” Bragr said as they walked fast towards a small group of people, including several children. It looked like a large family.

He raised his hand when they turned to stare at him. “Greetings, good people of Hjalmarheim. What has happened to your barn?”

They were clearly stunned, but a woman in a long dress recovered. “Earl Bragr! They said you were…” The woman suddenly spotted Josie, and her eyes widened.

“We had a hard landing coming back from the spring raid,” Bragr said calmly, “but as you can see, I’m back in Hjalmarheim now, and I am perfectly fine. This is Josie, a shieldmaiden from very far away. What has happened here?”

“Skrymtir, Chief,” a man said darkly, looking like an old warrior, his bared sword in his hand. “The undead aliens of Gornt came here and set fire to the barn. And to the barns of all our neighbors. It happened during the night. We chased them, but they are very many and we have to organize an army before we can seek battle with them. They went north, setting more farms alight.”

“You are Ivarr,” Bragr said. “I remember you from the war against Gornt. You were in the front lines at the battle of Hakadal. Did you lose anyone here? Are there injuries?”

The man raised his eyebrows. “I am indeed Ivarr, Chief. No, thank Zhor we didn’t lose anyone. But the children are scared.”

Josie smiled at the woman. “How old are they?”

The woman cautiously returned the smile. “They are four, six, ten, twelve and fifteen.”

“A big family is a blessing,” Josie said, not sure wherethatcame from but wanting to say something nice. Bragr was being all earl-like and dignified, and it seemed like the kind of thing she should say. “But I’m sure it has been a lot of work. Especially on a farm.”

“It has,” the woman said. “But it’s all worth it. I’m Solveg.”

“I’m Josie.”

“Do you have children yourself, perhaps?”

“Oh no,” Josie hurried to say. “Not yet.”

“You’re too young to have many, anyway. But perhaps soon.” Solveg glanced at Bragr and produced an enigmatic smile. “Anyway, we stayed inside until they had left. Those skrymtir are the creepiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Very good,” Bragr said with cold iron in his voice. “It was the wise thing to do. We shall destroy them all, and Gornt along with them. We have had enough of his skrymtir and his witchcraft. I will gather the army and throw them out of our lands forever. Ivarr, gather the warriors you know here in the area and bring them north to meet up with the main army. Do not seek battle unless you have no choice. We shall attack as one. Is there a shortship in the village?”

“There is,” Ivarr said. “At the farm of Lendmann Kark. Young Hansr will guide you. Hansr!”

A teenage boy came over, clearly in awe to be in the presence of Bragr. “Yes, Father!”

“Go with Earl Bragr and show him and Josie to Lendmann Kark’s farm.”

Bragr grasped Solveg’s hand in a firm hold of both their wrists, then did the same with Ivarr. “I shall return to visit when the war is won. Lead on, Hansr.”

“Yes, Chief,” the boy gulped and started walking fast away from the farm, nearly tripping over his own awkwardly long legs.

They moved quickly along the dirt road, and soon they were approaching another farm, much the same as the one they’d left. Here, two buildings had been burned and there were flocks of livestock standing around as if confused.

An old man came towards them, ax in hand. “Earl Bragr. The skrymtir were here. I suspect Gornt is up to his witchcraft again.”

Bragr clasped hands with him. “So it seems, Kark. This is Josie, an alien shieldmaiden. We need to get to my jarlagard so we can gather the army and fight Gornt’s skrymtir.”

“The shortship is safe,” Kark said and pointed to a stone building. “They couldn’t set fire to that. Take it, Chief. I shall join the fight along with all the warriors of this village. I will lead them along with Ivarr. Hansr, bring the shortship out.”

The teenager ran over and opened the door to the stone building.

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