Page 1 of Song and Sword
Prologue
Beginnings
Twenty-two years ago
Brynn paced back and forth, wearing a trench in the snow in front of the dwelling.
“Loki’s balls, Huw!” he burst out, gesturing at his friend who was leaning against the wall by the door. “How can you possibly be so calm? Your wife is in there, too, you know!”
“The fact had not escaped me, old friend,” replied Huw dryly. For all that he seemed to be leaning casually, his hands were closing into fists every time that his wife Astrid cried out from within. “But it is also true that Greta is the most skilled midwife on this side of the Baltic Sea. Our wives could not ask for better care.”
“Greta certainly knows little of fear! Thor’s goats, I thought she was going to freeze my innards when I told her I wanted to stay by my Kasia’s side,” said an exasperated Brynn.
“I heard all three of them shout at you to get out,” chuckled Huw.
“Who knew our wives were such traditionalists?”
There came a pair of long cries, drawn out and painful.
“That’s it,” announced Brynn, stopping his pacing. “I’m going in.”
“If Greta doesn’t cut your throat, your wife will murder you once she feels up to it,” observed Huw.
The cries abruptly stopped and were replaced by the furious squalling of newborn babies.
Huw made it inside a fraction of a second before his bulkier friend. Within the dwelling, Greta the midwife was using a cloth to clean off two babies, with the assistance of her apprentices. The midwife’s glare softened as she saw the anxious faces of the two Jomsvikings.
“Two mothers healthy, two new humans in the world,” she announced. “Brynn, you’ve another son. Huw, you’ve a daughter. Give them a look, then let us swaddle them and get them fed.”
“A son!” said Brynn, stunned. “Two boys, Huw! My Gunnar, and now little Hakon! Two boys!”
“A daughter,” murmured Huw, a smile creeping across his face. “A little girl to raise.” He moved over to Astrid, gently wiping perspiration from her face. “We have a daughter, my love.”
“A daughter?” repeated Astrid faintly, looking up with loving eyes at Huw. “Oh, my love. Let me see her.”
Huw carefully took the furious baby girl from Greta and gently lowered her onto his wife’s chest. Astrid smiled. “She’s beautiful.”
Behind them, Huw could hear Brynn saying earnestly to Kasia, “He’s got two arms, two legs, and a magnificent cock, my love! A perfect little warrior! He’ll be dropping foes in no time! And his brother can teach him and look out for him while he’s still learning…”
The sound of Brynn’s chatter receded into the distance as Huw focused on his wife and newborn daughter. “Such golden hair…” he murmured, stroking the wisps of hair on the tiny head.
“Then she shall be Sif”—smiled Astrid—“after Thor’s wife, Sif of the Golden Hair.”
***
In the gathering hall of the Ironwood Witches, the sightless Lady Brede lifted her head and turned it slightly, as if sniffing the air.
“You felt it, too, then,” observed Baedi, who sat beside her.
Brede nodded. “For good or ill, things have been set in motion,” she said.
***
Fourteen years ago
Astrid’s ears caught the change in tone of the noise generated by the children’s play. She set aside the dough she had been kneading and walked swiftly outside, catching the eye of her friend Kasia, who had clearly heard the same thing and was also moving to find out what had happened.
Gunnar, the leader of the children by virtue of being the oldest, was sitting on his bottom in the dirt, trying not to cry as he held onto his own palm and swung his right hand back and forth. Hakon and Sif stood a small distance away, looking at him with a mixture of surprise and worry. Sif’s chin had a stubborn tilt to it. A broken tree branch lay next to Hakon.
