Father: Chronicle of a Norseman

By Mike Bunk

Maagnus grows up listening to his father tell stories—stories of adventure, stories of battles, stories of family. Always ready for a story, Maagnus does not tire of hearing these many times. He often puts himself beside his father in the story. He wants more than anything to be with his father on an adventure. Maagnus would have honor to be with his father, and his father would have honor to have him by his side.

Norsemen have many adventures and are always ready to share a story about it. When Maagnus is of the age to be on these adventures, the country has experienced change. The desire to fight, to raid, to take what is not theirs is no longer part of the Norseman’s life.

There are men with red lines on their shirts now moving freely in his country. Maagnus does not like this. He seeks adventure elsewhere and finds just that and more.

• Language: English
• Publisher: LifeRich Publishing
• Release date: Jul 26, 2019
• ISBN: 9781489723062

Mike Bunk

Mike is a father and grandfather who enjoys a good story and sharing that story with family. He likes history and the way events subtly effect other events. Faith and family are important to him. His family call him Poppy and he does like it. Mike has started sharing Poppy rule number five: Life is a story, tell it. Mike likes hiking or walks in nature, always looking for unique images to photograph. Faces or letters in rocks or trees prove Gods' creation. And Romans 1:20 says we are without excuse because of creation. Little blessings are given through all this.

Book preview

Copyright © 2019 mike bunk.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

LifeRich Publishing is a registered trademark of The Reader’s Digest Association, Inc.

LifeRich Publishing

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.liferichpublishing.com

1 [phone]

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-4897-2308-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4897-2307-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4897-2306-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019909241

LifeRich Publishing rev. date: 03/09/2020

Contents

Chapter 1     (Eleven)

Chapter 2     (Twelve)

Chapter 3     (Thirteen)

Chapter 4     (Fourteen)

Chapter 5     (Fifteen)

Chapter 6     (Sixteen)

Chapter 7     (Seventeen)

Chapter 8     (Eighteen)

Chapter 9     (Nineteen)

Chapter 10    (Twenty)

Chapter 11    (Twenty-One)

Chapter 12   (Twenty-Two)

Chapter 13    (Satisfaction)

Chapter 14    (I Am Content)

Chapter 15    (Hard Things)

Chapter 16    (Too Many Questions)

Chapter 17    (True Words)

Chapter 18    (Adventure, Finally)

Chapter 19    (Still No Satisfaction)

Chapter 20    (Emperor’s City)

Chapter 21   (Home Again)

Chapter 22   (Old Ways Given Call For)

Chapter 23   (Follow The Pull In Me)

Chapter 24   (Call Me Maajgie)

Chapter 25   (I Am Father)

Chapter 26   (Forces Pull Me)

Chapter 27   (Forgiven And Full)

Chapter 28   (Friend)

Chapter 29   (Full Heart)

Chapter 30    The Snake Dance

Chapter 31   To Old Norse Land

Chapter 32   (This Is Norse Land)

Chapter 33   (Fullness And Hardness)

Chapter 34   (New Life - New Directions)

Chapter 35   (People Do Care)

Chapter 36   (Final Call)

yayay.png

Chapter One

(ELEVEN)

Some people call us Vikings. That is more a way of life. We are Norsemen. I am Maagnus and this is my eleventh summer. I am a little taller than the boys of the same age. My father looks at me often, his hands find my shoulders and I know his heart for me. My father is preparing to leave on another venture. We are through planting our small bit of land with crops and garden, I do not remember a time when we did not have enough food, each spring still has enough left to keep us through harvest. Father is a good provider and teacher.

Father often shares stories. My heart beats fast, and visions fill me with the stories my father shares about his raids and adventures and much more. He has told stories of almost three hundred years of settling in other countries. Norsemen have settlements in all known lands of the north, south to the Black Sea, and full around the Mediterranean. Not all ventures have had total success, yet my father shares of knowledge taken from them and how they did use that knowledge to their advantage when they would return. He often says, You will have your own stories to tell and retell. My thoughts often put me with my father, by his side, being someone who honors him, and he has honor to have me there. Perhaps my father will share stories of us.

Too soon, it is time for Father to leave. He gives Mother a long hug, whispering in her ear. She puts her chin down, going back into the house. Father gives my little brother a hug, lifting him up and putting him down and rubbing the top of his head. Picking up his pack that has his swords inside with handles showing, and belt around his robe, keeping all together, his eyes meet my eyes. Walk a ways with me, Maagnus, he says to me with a smile on his face.

I do want to be with my father, to be like my father, all of me wants this. As we walk down the path toward the sea, Father gives me a couple of gentle reminders about taking care of matters while he is away. I just keep nodding, I have no words to say. I am really wanting to walk all the way to the ships with him and to see the ships set sail for their adventure. We seldom have purpose in town, yet we do join the celebrations and I do hold these in my thoughts.

Father stops about a fourth of the way from town, puts both hands on my shoulders, and he says in a low voice, with heavy accent on the first part of my name and drawing it out a little, Maa…gnus. I wait a while for more instructions or advice. He finally inhales heavy through his nose and says, Is there something you would like me to bring back for you?

I do want a knife to call my own.

Done, he says, patting my shoulders again and giving me a gentle push toward home. Father is on his way to join in the summer’s venture.

I turn, watching him till he is out of sight, my thoughts are that, I will be big like him. A man he will have honor to have in battle beside him. A vision of the two of us taking on a force of warriors by ourselves is about me. I am swinging my arms and kicking my feet till the last man falls. I stomp my right foot, holding my arms straight out to my side, yelling hard, AAAH OOT.

Not wanting to return home just yet, my thoughts go to my good friend, Orn. Our closest neighbors are a short distance just to the side of the path to home. Orn is the oldest child and he is a couple summers younger than me, yet we do much together, as do our families. We share the desire to be like our fathers. We have told each other that we do look like our fathers, the same brown hair and smiles. I know his father would be going on this venture also. Our fathers are good friends. Both often tell stories of the other, giving honor with their words.

Arriving, I see Orn sitting on a stack of rocks at the edge of their field. My thoughts are, He is taking this time of our fathers being away with uncertainty. He only stares at the ground and says nothing when I greet him. I sit and say, Looks like the garden is in.

Yeah, Orn says, And the wheat, and the barley. We will have a good harvest.

Yeah, us too, I say. I do want more time with him. We are too soon given interruption.

Orn’s mother gives a call, and he does not say anything, just gives turn, slowly moving toward the house with chin down. I give him a little slap on the shoulder and turn toward home. Visions of Father’s return and all the stories he would tell are still filling my thoughts.

As I get closer to home, I hear Mother is calling to come eat. Yeah, I am hungry and looking forward to Mother’s barley cakes. When these are hot, one bite and it is in my mouth, given slow chew. There is a natural sweetness to them and easily my favorite food.

Days pass quickly, Mother always has something for me to do. Weeding the garden, milking, firewood, are some tasks to fill my time. Sometimes she shares a good story. She only knows a few. These stories always have Father in them. She does hold Father as a man of strong character, a man of wisdom … and kindness, when necessary. She does put much favor for him and I know her heart for him. I will never tire of hearing her stories. Mother does not have the same way of sharing a story as Father does, yet she does hold my ears.

Mother is prettier than most women and always has her light color hair put in a single braid behind her. She carries herself well and has a strength few women seem to have. She and Father do seem older than most with children my age. Their hearts are for each other and they do let me see this.

Our home is below the mountains on a slow-rising and open area with many pine trees all around. Father says there are too many rocks for good farming. There is a creek, a few paces from the house, that runs most of the year. The same creek runs near Orn’s house. Ours is small house with two rooms, one room for Father and Mother and a larger room for all else. We are about half a day from the sea and port town. We are on the east coast of what we call Norway. I do like the trees and rocks; there are plenty of adventures to be had here and my thoughts move me to many.

Watching the wind blow through the wheat one warm day, my thoughts are, It is going to be time to cut soon. Father should be here.

I hear a faint familiar hard, AHOO. AHOO. Father is home! I run to meet him coming up the path. Both of his hands take my shoulders with a firm grip. Father’s pace is quick and we are too soon back to the house. I want to have more time with Father … just the two of us. Father gives a couple more hard, AHOO. AHOO. Mother and Brother are waiting for us when we arrive.

Father is full of stories of adventure … I could listen to Father’s stories all night. Mother has a good supper and we eat more than we should have. Mother asks me to clean up, and she and Father go into their room. As in the past, we will not see them till afternoon the next day.

My brother Arn and I get along well even though there are almost eight summers between us. He does favor Mother with his looks. Perhaps I did favor Mother when I was little. Perhaps Arn’s round face and light color hair will be more as mine, when he is my age. He does find more words often and begins to use them. Perhaps he will be a story teller and hold our ears.

We are enjoying the warm afternoon when Father comes out and asks me to walk with him to the creek. He does like a dip in the creek. Arn is quick splashing beside him. Sitting and rubbing cold water over himself, he says to me, Unroll the towel.

My eyes see a knife, sheath and belt inside.

Grabbing the towel, he says, What are your thoughts?

This is the best knife I have seen! Double edge, bone handle, good balance, and … mine! Look how well it fits my hand!

This has been a good summer and is a good year.

yayay.png

Chapter Two

(TWELVE)

My twelfth summer is filling with excitement as Father’s stories continue and pull me there with him. We have our crops in the ground and time is close to Father leaving again. He has been into town several times and I am sure plans have been put forth, and agreement made. He knows where they will sail off to raid or explore. Father will never say exactly where, just west.

Father is sharpening his sword and looking at me staring at him. My thoughts are, He is a handsome man with grooming well done, a couple inches taller than most and more muscles. He does like his dark brown hair shorter than most. He gives me a smile asking, Do you know why it is important to have a good edge? Not waiting for an answer, he says, It takes less effort to thrust a sharp sword into a man or beast. Less effort means more strength left … endurance. You want to be the man standing at the battles end.

Father does give instructions to me when learning is important. Father has a knowledge, an insight, that many value. My thoughts hold his words and pull them out often.

I cannot sleep. I know Father needs to go … this is our way. All of Father’s stories fill my thoughts. I put me beside Father and we are the victors. No one will better us … life will be long and the gods will give us success and wealth.

Midmorning is already here and I cannot take my eyes off Father. He puts his bundle over my shoulder and says, Walk with me.

Bjorn, I will be praying for your return, Mother says as she gives turn and goes into the house.

Father kneels down and gives Arn a hug, stands up, patting him on the shoulder and rubbing his head. On the path down to the sea, occasionally Father does push my shoulder, laugh and this makes me laugh. This is a good time, a time to put in my thoughts and pull out again. I do like his hands on my shoulders and the sound of his laugh. All of me wants to be with my father, on adventures with him. Our days of adventure will come to us; of this I am certain.

At the edge of town Father stops and puts both hands on my shoulders with a firm grip. He gives me a gentle push and pulls me to him again. He looks me in the eyes and says, Time to go back. He does turn me and give me a soft push. I do really want to see the ships sail off and to give yells as they would set the sails. Perhaps next year, I say soft to myself.

Days are passing too slow. Arn is wanting to spend more time with me. I really do not care too much, yet he is my brother. Perhaps if he were older, he would have more value to me. Sometimes I do get up early and leave before he is up. I put much time to using my knife and learning to throw it. I can hit where I throw it and stick the point better than half the throws. I try to keep a good edge on it. I know Father will notice the care I put forth and a smile does easily find my face with this thought.

Mother knows the emptiness inside me … with Father gone. I do not say anything to her, yet she knows. Perhaps she misses Father also. She does try to keep me busy and she knows I do like a story.

My hair has grown. It is over two summers from my last trim. I ask Mother to help me keep it as Father does his hair. She agrees and she cannot hold a smile from her face. She finishes and looks me straight in the eyes saying soft, You do look like your father. Her eyes are quick wet and she turns from me. I know she does miss Father, yet her words will never share as much.

Arn has had eyes full on us, taking all this in. My hair too, me too. Make me as Maagnus.

Mother lowers to her knees, giving full attention to him. This is his first trimming. I cannot take my eyes off mother. She holds herself straight, a smile full on her face, and then her eyes do get wet. She is slowly turning Arn, giving full attention to his hair. He is different, this does make him appear older, perhaps more favor to Father.

The two of you to the creek, rinse off. You are your father’s … Her voice cracks, words stop, and she turns from us, moving toward the house.

Our little wheat crop is turning brown and will soon be gold. Time for harvest is near and Father will soon be home. My thoughts move me to the stories he will tell of battles and adventure. His laugh is in my thoughts and a smile is on my face.

One afternoon I hear in the distance, AAHHOO. AHOO. Father is home! Father does have many stories to share. We do have our days together and Father gives words and instructions for only me.

I will be like my father. My thoughts would pull me to this often. We will be together with adventures and many stories to share. I will have honor to be with my father and he will have honor to have me at his side. We will have many good years.

yayay.png

Chapter Three

(THIRTEEN)

My thirteenth summer sees me three inches taller. My thoughts are, I have heard all of Father’s stories many times over. I will never tire of hearing Father tell a story over again. He never says an angry word about another Viking, only strong words of Norsemen. The enemy is seldom given favor with good words. I do like to hear him laugh. Most stories would end with a short laugh or a good belly roll. Those belly roll laughs would have everyone laughing with him. He does share about our Gods, there is much here to learn.

The crops are in the ground and I know Father will soon be away on another venture. He has been to town a few times. Again, Father will not say where this venture will take him.

The day to leave is on us. On our way to town we are both being quiet, only Father does give gentle push to me with a soft laugh. Father, I ask, How do I grow up to be strong like you?

He is quiet for a while, slowing our pace, Run. He gives some hesitation then says, Run … everywhere you go, run. When you are spent, run a little more. When your legs hurt, run a little more. Breathe through your nose as long as you can. Fill your lungs with air, even when not running. When your lungs feel full, breath in a little more. Start from the inside.

I had then come to see that this is how he would breathe, quiet and mostly through his nose. Occasionally he would take a long breath and ease it out through his nose.

We are at the edge of town. The desire in me is to go all the way to the ships. Father does not say anything, we just keep walking. There is much activity in town, many people moving to and from the ships. Many sounds of people talking and some holler out instruction. Few children are here this day. These men … and women do look like warriors, all strong and full of excitement. Father does nod to some and to some, he will shout their name and follows it with a greeting of, You old dog, or Are you still breathing. They return in kind and both laugh. This is my son, Maagnus, he says to some. He does give me recognition and pulls me into all of this. I do recognize most of the names and I can now put a name and face together. Near the ships Father lets out a loud and hard, AHOO. AHOO.

Many follow with the same hard, AHOO. AHOO.

I feel honor that men would recognize my father this way. A smile comes on my face and my steps are lighter than normal. This is what I want, to be part of all that is happening. A true Norseman with value. I will have this story to tell. My steps remain light and my feet move easy.

Laying his pack down at the end of the dock, Father puts both hands on my shoulders with a firm grip, giving me a gentle push back and toward him. I really want Fathers hands on my shoulders. My thought is a hug is coming next and my thoughts are quick to me, No hugs in front of all these men.

He gives a gentle push back and pats my shoulders saying, I will be back before you know. Return home now. He gives turn toward the ships. I give turn towards home.

My steps are still light and I begin to run, breathing through my nose. Home is in sight sooner than I thought it should be. I am not breathing through my nose now, but sucking air through my mouth.

Days quick turn into weeks. I run everywhere I go, tasks given to me by Mother or adventures through the trees and over the rocks, always running. When Arn is with me, I carry him on my back. I am still liking to spend time with him. Too many of my thoughts want him to be older. Orn would also run with me sometimes. With Arn on my back, Orn can keep pace. Our adventures are many and we do not tire of making them. We are the same in our thoughts, the three of us will be like our fathers.

I have become an excellent mark with a sling. No rabbit or bird would escape once I set my eyes on it. We have fresh meat whenever mother asks. She does show me how to make a boot from a rabbit skin. With all my running, my boots are wearing out sooner. I am on my third set since Father has left for his adventure. Mother has strong words for me. Words to encourage me and hold myself as Father holds himself. Her hand finds my cheek when she is close enough to do so. I do know she cares for me and I will have this in my thoughts. We will have proper leather for you, when Father is … Her voice cracks and she turns her eyes from me.

Like it was in the past, I hear Father’s hard call in the distance, AHOO. AHOO. It is late afternoon, and much later than previous returns. We have begun the harvest and are in the field. My eyes catch up with him and I begin to run toward him. His left leg does have a wrap and also a wrap is on his left forearm.

He will not answer questions and I do ask many. He puts his pack on my shoulders. His hands do stay on my shoulders with a gentle squeeze. He gives me another bundle and smiles. AHOO. AHOO, he does give hard yell out. Mother and Arn are on their way to us. Arn is quick up in Father’s arms and given a firm hug. Father gives Mother a long hug and quick kiss.

Turning, Mother says, Supper will be ready soon, wash up. She does hold her head up and her shoulders are back. My thoughts have her happy to have Father with us again. I am sure a smile is on her face, even though I do not see her face. Perhaps her eyes are wet.

Father, Arn, and I are quick to the stream. Father takes off his clothes, leaving his loin wrap on. He sits in the water, slowly rubbing water on himself. Arn is sitting beside him, splashing and laughing. I just remove my shirt, kneeling at the edge, and begin washing. Father gets out of the water, picking up his shirt. He kneels by the water giving it a quick wash. He does push gently against me with his arm, one of his ways of telling me, and showing me, he does care for me.

Not many words came from Father. I know the words and stories will come when he is ready. After supper, he and Mother go into their room. Arn and I will not see them for two days.

Father eats good, sleeps some, and some stories begin to be given voice. Harvest is given completion and it is good. We hunt and have plenty of food in store for winter. I do like being with Father. My days will come when we are on adventures together. All in me knows this and this is what I want.

Father had brought mother some new cloth to make clothes. He also has a bag of coins, more coins than before. We do make a couple of trips to town buying things we normally would not. Father does purchase proper leather for boots.

This is a good year and much will be put into my thoughts to pull them out again.

yayay.png

Chapter Four

(FOURTEEN)

My fourteenth summer brings a new addition to our family, a little girl. Mother wins the name decision and Sigrid is what we call her. Father says, A strong name in Norse history. A fine name.

I have grown another two inches and my chest is starting to show the good air in me. Father does see this and smiling says, The man is starting to show in you.

Father has made some trips into town and knows where they will venture off to this summer. I can tell he is anxious to be on his way. I do want so badly to be off on an adventure with him. I know I have perhaps three more summers to wait. Perhaps patience is not in me, I could stay with the ships.

The crops are in the ground and again it is time for Father to go with the other Norsemen. On our way down the path to town, I ask Father again. How do I get strong like you?

Father is quiet for a while and then that familiar deep breath and exhale through his nose. He says, Maa…gnus. I know he is serious when he says my name in a low tone and draws out the first part. Son … find a rock that you cannot lift. Step over it, squat down, and lift with your legs. Keep lifting till you can lift to your chest and then over your head. When you can do that a couple of times, get a rock a little heavier, and start again. Reaching over, grabbing my shoulder with a firm grip, pulling me against his side, Father gives me a gentle push. He lets out a hard yell, AHOO. AHOO. Father gives that laugh I do like.

We are quiet all the way to the ships, except Father greeting everyone he knows. My eyes only take in Father, nothing around me is given notice. My ears do not focus on the many sounds, my thoughts hold Father’s words. Much is being done to load ships and ready for this venture. At the docks he lets out with a loud, hard, AHOO. AHOO. Many respond with the same, AHOO. AHOO.

After putting his pack in the ship, he puts both hands firmly on my shoulders asking, Is there something you would like me to bring you?

Nothing comes quick into my mind. I have no needs, my only want is to be with Father. So I say, No. You have a good voyage.

Yah, a good voyage it is. Now off you go.

I am off running through town and up the path toward home, my thoughts are full about the instructions Father had given me about lifting rocks. The field where we have our wheat and barley is only given about half use with planting, the rest has a lot of rocks. It should be easy to find the first rock there.

I am at the field quicker than what I thought I would be. Am I getting faster with my running or am I just too heavy in my thoughts? Perhaps my thoughts of Father and me together do make the day pass quicker. These are satisfying thoughts and move me to what I want.

I do pick up several rocks, nothing is too heavy yet. Father had put some rocks with flat sides in front of the house as a step and path. He had also put stacks of rock to form a wall at the edge of the trees. My thoughts are that I can clear the field, eliminate mud around the house, and work on my strength, all with the same purpose.

Many of the rocks are small enough to throw toward the wall. Arn is even getting into this. He sometimes starts to lift a rock and when he cannot lift it, he says, Here is a rock for you. Some rocks I can only roll to the edge of the path. The small rocks I put in my sling and loose them against the wall.

Arn says to me, Let me sling some. My thought is, He is having fun learning. Most of the rocks would go toward the wall. Every now and then, one is more up than forward.

Days pass quick. The field is nearly clear of rocks. Arn has his own sling now. He is getting the rocks to whistle in the air and crack loud when he hits his mark. I have put most of the rocks over my head and still have eleven rocks along the path, laid out in order of size.

Father’s return has many stories of his adventures. His hands on my shoulders and the smile on his face, say much more than his words at seeing the field clear. I do want his hands on me. I do want to hear him tell stories and to hear him laugh. All in me wants to be with him.

With Father home and stores put up, this is a good year.

yayay.png

Chapter Five

(FIFTEEN)

My fifteenth summer is starting with much excitement. Snows are beginning to melt and Father is taking me into town. I am almost looking straight to his eyes, perhaps only his nose, yet I am growing. My thoughts move me to perhaps Father will take me with him on this summer adventure. Even if I stay with the ships to watch … this is what I want, to be with my father.

At this meeting, there is not much excitement. Father says softly to me, This is a small gathering, most from the south are not here. There is easy room for a hundred or more to stand and move. This is a one room lodge. The middle of the room has the floor taken out and rocks around with a fire burning slow. The front of the room has two steps to a chair and small area for the king. On the wall behind the chair are many weapons taken on the battle field, each with a story.

I hear a lot of talk about past raids and settlements. Little is being said about what would be done this year. Few give interest to the summer events. I listen to all words close, perhaps someone will put words to the reason of this. None are given.

Father is still on his first cup of drink when most are on their third or fourth cup. My thoughts are, He does not care for the taste. He does not have any drink at home. When we do attend gatherings, he seldom has a cup. He has said that drink slows the thoughts and helps men become fools.

A decision is made and all give agreement. Word will be sent south. Another meeting will be set for the next full moon. The room gets loud and then grows quiet. Father has put his arms in the air and begins to share a story, ending in a good belly roll laugh from those around. We listen to a couple more stories and Father motions to the door with his head. We stand up to leave. Father does pat some shoulders and each pat his shoulder. Some even give me a pat and a firm grip on my shoulder. I do feel part of the men and can imagine myself in battle with them, a smile is full on my face.

Reaching the edge of the town, Father sets the pace. We are soon at a steady run and I am proud to be with him. I run behind, watching him. My thoughts put him in battle and then my thoughts are given interruption. Father nods to me to run beside him. He does bump me with his elbow and gives a soft laugh. A smile is full on his face and pulls a smile from me.

Father and I have begun turning the soil, where Arn and I did clear rocks last year. Father says, The increase crop harvest will be useful for trade. His eyes are on me and a smile is on his face.

When it is time for the next meeting Father says, Come, lets’ go. We run at a slow pace down the path to town. Many are already gathering. The room is very loud and many are sharing words with those near them. The floor has been put back and a couple tables and many benches are in the room. The talk I am hearing is mostly about the Danes. Word was given that they would not attend. Slowly, a few more enter.

A good solid thumping on the floor causes the room to quiet some. A second double thump and all quiets quick. A man stands in front of the King with a heavy staff in hand.

It seems the Danes have chosen not to join us this year, the King says in a loud tone, so all hear.

Do we fight with or against them? Someone gives yell from the middle. More noisy talk does follow.

The King’s man thumps the floor twice and the room quiets. The word is they are losing an interest to fight. Some are following another religion. We will not fight against them, they are a part of us. East, beyond our kin the Rus, is not worth the effort. They are poor in wealth and fight. South is good fight, no wealth. West is peaceful and some are moving to settle more lands. The Med is good for fight and wealth. Without the Danes, we do not have enough ships to carry us with a battle force. I have made the decision, we will not sail this year.

There are groans and waving arms, and many hard and angry words around the room. All show the disappointment they feel. Father is quiet, only looking toward the floor. He will say something powerful. This is my thought.

Silence! I have made my decision, the King begins with a loud voice. Then says in a normal tone, We will build ships. We should easily be able to put twenty more ships on the water next year.

Cheers of agreement, foot stomping, and clanging swords are heard. Much approval is given and the excitement is easy to see.

We have agreement then, the King says, All will gather and work. I will provide food and some entertainment. We start next full moon.

More shouts of agreement are given and the room is loud quick. Father does motion toward the door and we leave. Too soon. My thoughts move me. We should take in more, be more a part of these men. I will not share this with Father.

Father sets a slow pace. On the way up the path, I do ask Father, What are your thoughts of the King?

He is a brave warrior, Father says, He is wise. I am certain he made a bad situation into a victory. Next year we will be very powerful, having full rest, and ready.

Will I come with you? I am hesitant to ask but just cannot keep it from coming out. All of me does want this, my thoughts pull me here often.

My thoughts are, we have much to learn, Father says, We will be able to learn and prepare. Proper learning is a must to return safely, this is important. WE will learn.

This makes me feel important and lets me know he does care. Perhaps I see some honor for me in how he puts this to me. My thoughts pull to me that I do want to be like him. I have begun to move my arms as he does. My hair is even kept short like his. Words begin to form stories as he does. Father picks up the pace. I am falling behind, my thoughts pull me to what might be, us, together on adventures. His pace does slow and I am beside him. He is quiet the rest of the way home.

Stopping at the rock I had been lifting, picking it up and throwing it toward the wall, I give a hard yell, as Father does give a hard yell, AHOO. AHOOT.

Father gives his hard reply, AHOO. AHOO. Turning to me, I see him smile.

I do pick up the next rock. No, it is not going over my head. I give promise to myself that all of these rocks will be over my head by the end of summer.

Father often stops with planting and gives me instructions. He does demonstrate moves and counter moves. I keep wanting to get to using weapons, perhaps I am not patient enough. He finally does convince me that to fight without weapons is the basis of all moves, by pulling out his knife, and showing me the same moves with knife in hand.

Yes. Wow! Now all is coming together. Father’s instructions are filling my thoughts and often I do move my arms and feet and put all together into action.

Our planting is done and it is time to build ships. Father puts together some tools, skins and food. Starting down the path to town, Father a couple of steps ahead, gives turn of his head toward the house and he gives a little grin. I turn to see what he is looking at. Mother is giving a wave and smiling. This is the first time I saw her smile as Father left. Perhaps she is much eager to have him stay and not be off on a venture.

We make a good pace down the path. We are soon at the place where ships are to be built. We put up a lean-to and make our camp.

I do learn a lot about building ships, how to select the right trees, cut and fit joints, seal seams, metal reinforcement for joints, and all that goes into building a strong ship. We are working hard, putting all our efforts into this venture. Nights are the best. Always stories being told, some serious, some funny, some given in the name of someone in the next life. Father is the best story teller. His eyes and face do move with the story and his arms help to show detail of the event. All are drawn into the story and watch Father as he shares. All laugh with him and those belly roll laughs have all, fully joining in.

We do put full effort to this task for a few days and return home for a couple. Father still takes time to train me to fight. I am learning and summer goes by too quick.

Harvest time is here and we do have good crops. Training is still important and I want to use a weapon. My thoughts are Father is a little upset. He says, Focus on what I show you. He swings a fist at me. I easily lean to the side and let it pass. He catches me on the back of the head with an open hand and puts me on the ground.

Where are your eyes? He asks, as I am standing.

In my head, I give too quick of a reply.

No! Where are your eyes looking? Always keep your eyes on the battle. You can look straight; your mind will take in more. Use it all. The battle is won in what you see and how you use it. More instructions do follow. I have much to learn and Father is being too slow to teach. Perhaps I am slow to learn or just too impatient. The whole of me wants to be ready to venture with him next spring.

Harvest is done and I am beginning to look at something and try to see what is around it. Ship building is hard work. Do I enjoy that or maybe I would like being with my father and the men he tells stories about. We have twelve ships ready to float and material cut and ready for ten more.

Father says that our time is done here for this year. We need to hunt and put in some meat for winter.

We are home a couple of days and Father says, Tomorrow we will head up the mountain to hunt. Be ready to leave at sun up.

Father is leading the way, setting a good pace. We stop for a bite and water. Father begins giving instructions and puts question to me, What do you see here?

Trees, grass and brush, I say.

Pointing to a tree he does ask me, What can you do with this?

A house, a ship, fire wood, fence …

Father does interrupt, Everything is a weapon. Look again. How is this a weapon?

Cut down, make a battering ram. Pine is soft for an ax handle or spear, but could have use for a while. A defense wall.

"Too much time. You are fighting right now. How is