The change in the amount of valour Einar had made it clear that while he gained nothing from the monsters he killed at the proving ground, the challenge itself earned him some valour nonetheless. It still wasn’t enough to gain anything from it as even the ordinary star charts he had would ask for at least three thousand points of valour to fill them, let alone the ancestral one that would require four thousand. With his curiosity sated, the youth left his inner world, opening his eyes to find the girl from the bed already awake.
“Are you all right there big guy?” She asked with a tired voice as she noticed him moving.
“I was...”
“Inside your mind? I figured when you weren’t moving at all. Anyway, I’m going to go and you should get moving as well. They will be waiting for us at the docks.”
Saying that the girl winked at him and left the room. The place turned silent once again, prompting Einar to stand up and leave as well, not wanting to miss their departure. Leaving the room he found himself in a narrow corridor that led to a door which let him outside, the remains of yesterday’s feast still being cleaned up as he stepped out to the castle’s courtyard.
Some of the thralls turned toward him for a moment, giving a shy nod before returning to their work. He traced back his path to the port where the ships would await them, the early morning sun already showing signs of breaking through the thick clouds. Wolfhold felt quiet yet lively as people went about their way, shops opening up, the scent of freshly baked bread flitting through the air. Einar’s head was in disarray as several thoughts and questions crossed his mind.
He tried to take stock of his supplies and equipment to make sure he wasn’t lacking anything before they left the capital. A few stops at the stalls that opened early provided him with whatever he lacked but he didn’t want to waste too much money on food as he was told that the king would supply their expedition. When he reached the docks, the young giant had already found it crowded with the locals who wanted to say their goodies.
“Einar,” he heard someone call his name, Bodvar waving at him from not too far away. “There you are, lad. I take it you enjoyed last night’s feast.”
“It was… fine.”
“You mean, besides punching the prince?” His uncle asked from the side.
The youth looked at them surprised, both of the older men laughing at his baffled expression.
“World travels fast,” his uncle remarked. “I think pretty much everyone heard what you did a few minutes after King Baldr stopped the fight.”
“If you ask me,” another one of his relatives hummed. “That foolish princeling deserved it.”
“On that, we agree,” Unnr said as she and the rest of the Unfrid clan walked closer from the crowd. “The nerve of that brat. To think he would dare to threaten your family like that.”
“I heard young Baldr slapped his son flying after he found out about it.” Narve added.
Einar gave a nod to his other grandfather, earning a laugh from most men around them.
“The apple sure doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Narve sighed. “You have a knack for finding trouble, just like your father.”
The old man patted him on the back, clearing his throat for a moment before continuing with a lowered voice.
“You better look out for him once you reach the Torn Serpent. Prince Fastúlfr won’t take such an insult lying down and he seemed to have gathered quite a few capable warriors beside him. If you get the chance, kill him. Don’t hesitate for a moment.”
“Narve is right,” his other grandfather sighed. “Once you get to the isles of the gods, our kingdom’s laws will stop protecting you. The prince will want vengeance so you can either join his sister’s warband or...”
“Or grow strong and fearsome enough that none of them would dare to cause trouble for you.” His grandmother said with a reassuring smile.
“Aye,” Bodvar nodded. “That could work as well.”
The sound of a horn made everyone turn around looking toward the ships. Several soldiers began to wave at the God-marked that were waiting about, the young warriors slowly forming lines in front of a stall where a pair of thralls were sitting.
“Looks like it’s time.” Unnr said with a sad voice, the elderly woman stepping closer to Einar to hug him.
The young giant lowered himself to a half-kneeling pose to hug his grandmother who was already shedding tears.
“You take care of yourself,” she said. “Don’t let them push you around, you hear? Chop down whichever idiot stands in your way and then come back to us.”
“Right.” Einar nodded, trying to sound reassuring.
Unnr let go of him, letting the rest of her family have their turn to say goodbye to the lad. Once the Unfrid clan was done, the Arnessen clan took their place. The young giant was hugged, patted on the back, and encouraged by his relatives before finally, it was Bodvar’s turn. The old warrior hugged him, leaving with a few words.
“Do not go recklessly looking for trouble. But when the time comes, fight like the giant you are.” He said, turning to leave.
It was then that Einar noticed the small pouch that got tucked into his left palm. Not wanting to cause a scene, he covertly slipped the small pouch into his own world eater pouch and turned toward the row of God-marked. He joined the line and waited for a good five minutes before reaching the stall where the two scribes were sitting.
“Name?” One of them asked without even looking up.
“Einar Arnessen.” He replied.
“You’ll sail with the front ship of the fifth moor. Next!”
The youth gave a slight nod before leaving, his eyes darting across the docks. Ten long moors were reaching out into the sea, three ships lined up in each of the first five moors. What surprised the young giant was that two of the ships were already filled with people who seemed older than twenty-three, some of them having grey streaks in their hair. When he reached the ship he was meant to sail on, an older sailor stopped him.
“Name?”
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“Einar Arnessen.” He introduced himself a second time, the sailor looking down at the list in his hand.
“Get on, lad. We’ll set sail in half an hour or so.”
“Thanks.” He hummed as the man reached out to pull him aboard.
“Einar,” he heard his name being called as a familiar face waved him closer. “I didn’t expect to sail with you, my friend.”
The source of the voice was Arvid, the young warrior he was drinking with the previous night. He looked excited and well-rested, unlike most of the other God-marked.
“Looks like the king had the mind not to put you on a ship with any of his son’s bootlickers.” Arvid remarked as the two sat down at the left stern side of the ship.
“Probably doesn’t want me to get stabbed before we reach the Torn Serpent.”
“Indeed.” The warrior agreed as he looked at the rest of their sailing companions.
Einar noticed the girl from the morning as she was chatting with a few other lasses at the ship’s front area. As if on cue, the young women turned his way, giving him coy smiles before laughing at each other and turning to chat again.
“What are they....”
“They’re probably comparing cock sizes.” Arvid remarked, making the giant choke on his words.
“You’re joking, right?”
“Not at all,” the warrior shook his head. “All of them have found someone to keep them busy last night and now they’re likely bragging about who caught the biggest prick of the bunch.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t worry,” Arvid hummed. “I’m sure you’ll be high on the rankings. Maybe third or even second.”
“Oh...”
“Don’t sound so glum,” the young man shrugged. “It’s obvious I’m going to be ranked at the top.”
“Sure.” Einar rolled his eyes after hearing the warrior’s brash confidence.
“What? Some people grow tall, others grow long. The gods bless people in different ways you know.”
Einar couldn’t stop himself from laughing as he heard Arvid’s shameless boasting.
“Joking aside,” the warrior sighed. “Are you ready for the greatest adventure of this era?”
“As ready as I can be.” The young giant replied while looking back toward the docks where his relatives were standing.
“Family?” Arvid followed his gaze. “You’re lucky you could say goodbye to them. Mine were all too happy to get rid of me.”
“I wonder why?” Someone from the ship remarked, earning laughter from everyone.
“Sod off Sven,” Arvid chuckled. “My mother might have been happy to get rid of me, but yours must be still weeping that I left.”
“You bloody bastard.” The stocky, hay-haired Viking raised his fist to sway it in the air, the others enjoying their banter.
The young God-marked on the ship spent their time talking and laughing, the sailors around them preparing to set sail as soon as the sign was given. Soon enough the sound of a horn filled the air, giving them the fine everyone was waiting for. Einar looked toward the port one last time, waving back at the people of the Arnessen and the Unfrid clans who were also waving goodbye to him.
“Anchor up! Lose the sail!” The captain of their ship yelled, his sailors following the order and the vessel bucked for a moment before it began to cut through the water.
“So it begins,” one of the God-marked said. “Our journey to the Torn Serpent.”
“Aye,” the captain harrumphed. “Two weeks I have to spend with you brats.”
“More like a lifetime,” a sailor remarked. “You know we can’t return.”
“That’s the price we agreed to pay,” the captain said with a morose tone. “At least we’ll be able to say that we have seen the isles of the gods.”
“What about the people on the two ships that seem older than...”
“They are volunteers,” the man cut into Einar’s words. “Only God-marked under the age of twenty-three and ordinary people can reach the Torn Serpent. However, most of us would be useless in a fight against the things that await us there.”
“Then why would so many people risk coming along with us?”
“And who would create a camp for you? Cook or clean your clothes while you’re away fighting Harald knows what? You can’t expect the sailors to do that. King Baldr wanted you to have a safe place to return to after your fights, so we offered a chance to some of the thralls of Wolfhold. They would become free people but would have to live out their lives on the shores of the Torn Serpent.”
“And they accepted it just like that?” One of the young warriors asked, baffled by the captain’s explanation.
“As you can see. Now sit your arses down! We have a long journey ahead of us.”
“Captain,” Einar walked closer. “I wanted to tell you early on so it won’t surprise you...”
“You will tie yourself to the boat and jump out for a swim?”
“I...”
“Thorwald told me about your... training habit,” the man said with a smirk. “I don’t care if you do, as long as it doesn’t hinder us.”
“Right.” The young giant nodded before returning to Arvid and the others.
“What’s this about you jumping into the sea?” The question came from the side, making Einar sigh.
“Before I left my home, my father advised me to train to swim in the sea with my armour on. I did that every day while sailing toward Wolfhold and I plan to continue while on our way to the Torn Serpent.”
“It sounds like a fast way to drown, but whatever.” Another God-marked noted, earning a few agreeing nods from the others.
“Or he might be the only one to survive if our ship sinks.” Arvid chuckled, the others soon seeing the truth behind his words.
The first few hours of their journey went by laughing and talking but the mood soon turned sombre as they reached the open sea. Days bled into each other with nothing to do but sail and train whatever skills they could in such a tight space. Einar spent an hour swimming every morning, noon and evening, becoming good enough to swim in front of their ship by the fifth day of their journey. They stopped twice in the first eight days, getting supplies from the islands that marked the edge of their Viking kingdom. On the afternoon of the eleventh day, a small island showed up on the horizon, a sailor yelling out in excitement.
“Captain! I can see Crabber Isle!” “Finally,” the man said with a relieved tone. “Alright everyone, get ready! Our final rest before Gods’ Gate is just ahead of us.”
‘Gods’ Gate.’ Einar thought as he heard the name. If someone had mentioned it to him a week before, he would have no idea what it meant, but now it was different. He always found it strange how they were supposed to reach the Torn Serpent in just two weeks when it took about the same time for him to reach the capital, but then one of the sailors explained to them. In truth, reaching the Torn Serpent would have been a nearly two-month-long journey.
That is if one would have been able to pass the Ring of Storms, a perpetual storm that prevented anyone from getting in a month-long travelling distance of the Torn Serpent. However, they had a shortcut. Gods’ Gate was said to be an enormous stone arch reaching out of the sea itself, its rocky frame carved with runes the size of adult men. At normal times, the Gods’ Gate was just a large stone arch that did nothing, but soon it would open up a path for them.
A single minute in there would push them days ahead, allowing safe passage through the Ring of Storms for their expedition. Crabber Isle was the last known island before Gods’ Gate and their last chance at sleeping on solid ground before trying their luck with the gate. After taking out a pair of small flags, one of the sailors signalled to the other ships that followed them so they too would know about the island ahead.