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"So it seems,” replied Bjorn. "Now they have to work hard, to prove that they deserve this omen," he added, addressing the two small archers, ready and waiting for a command.
A noise behind them caught the attention of Olaf and Harald. The doors of the stables opened and, after six months, a multitude of animals poured outside. Among mooing, grunting and bellowing, some men of the clan were trying to maintain order so they could lead the more than 500 head of cattle into the lands where they would leave them free to graze.
"Get the cattle out of here, or these two will kill them!" exclaimed Olaf, teasing them. Amid all that hustle and bustle Leif appeared, heading in their direction at a quick pace. He seemed eager to tell them something.
"Old Sigrùn saw the goat and said to tell you that she’s waiting for all four of you in the sacred glade,” the man informed them, as soon as he reached them.
“Good!" Olaf commented, exchanging a knowing look with Harald.
"You will resume training when we return," he told Bjorn.
"I’ll be here waiting for you," replied the archer.
The four set off, leaving the village behind them. The earth had freed itself from the frost and, with the first warmth of the sun, everything had started to come to life again in the village of Gokstad. Olaf's property was beautiful, and very vast, stretching along the coast and towards the hinterland for miles and miles and he was proud of it.
The fields were divided by a low stone wall which surrounded them. There were some peasants busy plowing the fields, while others were sowing the many different crops: rye, the precious barley, all the vegetables and oats, the latter destined to become fodder to feed the large number of livestock during the coming winter.
The first flowers dotted the vast meadows of clover, which were strewn with berry plants, blackberries and raspberries, and extended to the point where the terrain rose up to become rock walls and hills that bordered Harald's lands. With the thaw, the waterfall had once again begun to slide down the rocks, covered with lichens, swelling the stream that crossed the forest and the sacred glade.
The road they were following was lined with rows of apple trees and hawthorns which were in bud, and the first white flowers were already beginning to appear. They continued in silence, amid the sounds of nature that had awakened with the sun's rays filtering through the trees. The first birds’ nests could be seen and hanging from some of the branches were spiral-shaped straw baskets in which the bees had begun to build their hives. By the end of summer they would full of honey, with which the Vikings would produce an excellent mead.
They arrived at the sacred glade, where old Sigrùn awaited them. She was standing near an oak tree, wrapped from head to toe in her black cloak. Two white braids fell from the hood down to her hips, and her eyes stood out like two aquamarines. Perched motionless on her shoulders were two crows, creatures linked to the worship of their God Odin. The old woman held her arms up to the sky and the two birds soared away in flight, cawing over their heads, before disappearing into the thick of the trees.
"Your fathers planted this oak tree when they were about your age, and it grew as healthy and strong as their friendship," she declared with a nuance of pride in her voice. Then she bent down to pick up a shoot born from the roots of the tree and raised it to heaven.
"Today the gods have expressed their will, through your darts, and Thor's tree has generated a new life. You are ready for your Oath!" old Sigrùn declared, handing the shoot to the two boys.
The two little Vikings chose a point not far from the oak and turned over a clod of grass, over which they cut into the palm of their right hand, then mixed their blood with a handshake, swearing mutual fidelity; they fertilized the clod with it and used it to cover the base of the shoot they had planted, thus sealing a pact of brotherhood for life.
In addition to the education which the children of a noble house were given, Isgred had to learn how to govern the house, especially when her husband would have embarked on an expedition. One day she too, like her mother, would have to run the farm, educate her children, and administer her husband's affairs. One day she would also wear the bunch of house keys hanging on her belt, a symbol of the authority and respect which a woman enjoyed in the family.
1 Chapter 4
The Natives’ childhood passed serene and tranquil.
Children were taught by their parents to make small weapons, traps, how to recognize the wood suitable for building canoes and all the techniques for learning how to hunt and fish. From their mothers the girls learned to build tepees, grow crops, cook, tan hides and make clothes.
But the practice that was the basis of the good and peaceful soul of the Natives, was undoubtedly that of silence and meditation. Because the Great Spirit is everywhere, that was the reason the adults taught their children the simple practice of watching and listening. Because He is in every thing or living being.
When evening fell, and each family had retreated into their tepees, they sat around the fire while the family elder told his tales, rich in history and cultural traditions. The elders possessed the most important virtues of a human being, they were the custodians of the culture and wisdom of their people. In that way, the teaching of generosity, courage, respect and love for all living beings was handed down to the children.
Year after year the little Natives grew... and the moment of puberty arrived for Golden Falcon too.
Outside the tepee everyone was busy with the preparations for the party that Great Eagle had organized to honor his daughter. At the age of 14, you could already see the beautiful woman she would become. Her mother explained to her the significance of the change that had taken place in her.
"This is a very important moment in a girl's life... you are becoming a woman." With infinite tenderness she began to comb the long black hair, her gaze lingering on the little fringe that covered her forehead. That hairstyle symbolized the virginity of the young girls.
"You can let this hair grow too, the fringe will no longer be part of your hairstyle as a woman, since from today you can be courted and requested in marriage," she paused, as she divided the rest of the thick hair in two, to proceed with the hairstyle.
"Always listen to the voice of your heart. It will speak to you and guide you on your journey through life. One day you will get married and have children, you will take care of your family as I have done with you, and your husband will take care of you as your father has done with us," her mother explained as she fixed some red falcon feathers between the colored laces that kept the long braids in place.
Golden Falcon listened in silence and guarded those words as the most precious of treasures, depositing them in her heart.
"This dress too will no longer be part of your status as a woman, it will be donated to a family more in need," added the woman, inviting her to take it off.
The young woman undressed and handed the clothes to her mother, then put on the dress in buckskin which her mother had sewn and richly decorated for her. The seams of the sleeves and the bottom of the dress were adorned with fringes that swayed sinuously with each movement. She had decorated the neckline of the dress with her favorite colors, yellow and red, and the leggings repeated the same motif.
Someone peeped inside. It was her grandmother, Morning Dew. The woman's dark, lively eyes ran over her from head to toe.
"You're really beautiful!" she admitted proudly. “The man who marries you will be a very lucky man." Golden Falcon gave her a smile full of affection.
"I think we're going to have to start building her tepee soon," her grandmother chuckled as they went out.
They went to the center of the camp where the Sacred Fire was burning and a small altar had been set up for the ceremony, on which there was the skull of a bison, a pipe and a bowl with red tincture. The Shaman invited her to sit down crosslegged, and all the members of the Tribe in their most beautiful clothes which they wore for the great feasts, formed a wide colored circle around them.
The man lit the pipe and took a puff, then blew on the muzzle of the bison's skull, wrapping it in a cloud of smoke, dipped his finger into the tincture and drew a red line on the forehead of the skull. His voice rose in a sacred and propitiatory song, and his body began to dance in front of the girl, with movements that represented a bison and, each time he approached her, her mother put sage leaves on her womb.
Then the Shaman invited her to sit in the manner of a woman, which she had become, with both her legs to one side. Her mother let her hair fall loose and the man, after pushing aside her fringe, painted a red line on her forehead too which went across her hairline. She was blessed with the sacred yellow pollen, receiving the purification and female power to bring prosperity and health to her people, who celebrated her with joy and devotion.
The aromas of vegetables, soups and meats, which had meanwhile had been slowly grilling on the coals, had spread throughout the camp, heralding the lavishness of the banquet. As she took her seat next to her best friend, Red Moon, the girl thought back to her mother's words. She closed her eyes for a moment to listen to her heart, and the image that revealed itself made it beat fast. She reopened them and... the vision was right there, before her, looking at her pleased. It was Blowing Wind.
Handsome and charismatic, rather tall in stature and with sculpted muscles, his dark eyes gave him a magnetic look and the beautiful features of his face were framed by long black hair. She had been in love with him since she was a child. She gave him a shy smile that he exchanged with a wink.
The feast in honor of Golden Falcon was proving to be a real success: the food was delicious and the atmosphere serene and joyful.
"Do you think he’ll declare himself one day?" she asked her friend.
"Do you have doubts about that?" Red Moon answered in disbelief. "Can’t you see how he looks at you?"
Blowing Wind could not take his eyes off her and she really seemed to appreciate it.
"Can't you smell it?" Red Moon asked her, sniffing the air.
"Smell what?" asked Golden Falcon.
"The scent of love!" Red Moon laughed, shaking her head. "I agree with your grandmother when she says they're going to have to build the tepee for your wedding soon!"
As the two young people continued to exchange glances and smiles, Lynx Eye approached the boy and asked him when he would declare himself.
"When I come back from my Vision," Blowing Wind confided to him.
"I'm sure she'll like that very much," his friend commented.
"I hope the line outside her teepee isn’t too long," the young man commented with a shadow of concern.
"I doubt anyone would dare so much!" replied Lynx Eye, laughing.
All the boys knew that he liked her and given the respect he enjoyed within the Tribe, no one would have dared challenge him in the conquest of that young woman, also because the two had chosen each other from the time they were children.
At the age of 15, Blowing Wind already had the makings of a great warrior: excellent archer and horseman, he was undoubtedly the best hunter of the Tribe. With the arrival of puberty, the most important moment of his life arrived too, the search for the Vision.
His father, Dappled Deer, invited him to sit around the fire of their tepee as his mother, Dancing Stream, filled a bisaccia with food. The man filled the pipe and with a solemn gesture offered it to heaven and earth, then lit it and began to speak.
"My son, the time of the search for the Vision arrives for all men. No man will ever be himself if he has not yet had his own Vision." He paused to take a long puff, then passed the pipe to his son and went on.
"You will isolate yourself in a sacred place, and you will stay awake fasting for four days, and wait patiently to receive, through a dream or vision, your Protective Spirit which will guide you through life."
The boy listened to his father's words in respectful silence. Dappled Deer emptied the pipe and hung it on the wall of the tepee, then turned to his son once again.
"Now sleep, tomorrow with the rising sun you will prepare to leave." The young man nodded in assent and retreated to his bed for the night.
With the first light of dawn he went to the "sweat hut" for a purifying sauna. Then he set off towards the sacred place he had chosen to receive his Vision.
On the third night in solitude, this was granted to him. In the sky a large silver moon watched over him, he had reached inner silence, he was one with mother Earth and father Sky. The image was clear, the surrounding world was an immense sea, a silhouette was approaching from the north, walking on the waters: it was a wolf.
A noise diverted him from the much-awaited objective. He opened his eyes resigned, and there was the same wolf with a tawny coat a few yards from him. They looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds that seemed interminable. A terrible shudder ran through his body when he saw his face reflected in the animal's eyes. He remained motionless as a light breath of wind stroked his skin and the wolf's fur. Paralyzed by fear, he held his breath, praying to the Great Spirit to be spared.
As if he had understood his discomfort, the animal retreated a few steps and, before leaving, let out a howl that resounded throughout the valley. Then it disappeared into the darkness of the night.
It had been a very intense experience indeed, and he was happy and grateful, but he could not get to sleep. With the first light of dawn he prepared to return to the camp, and had traveled a few yards when something attracted his attention. He bent down to pick it up. It was a wolf's tooth. He squeeed it in his hand, turning his gaze full of gratitude to heaven, then carefully placed it in his medicine bundle and continued on his way.
The reddish light of the sky filtered through the flap of Blowing Wind’s tepee, announcing the arrival of twilight.
"The sun is setting," said the young man looking at the upper opening, then turning to his parents he informed them of his decision to declare himself to Golden Falcon. Dancing Stream stood up and went to a basket, made from a weave of river reeds and yucca which she had been keeping next to her bed for some time. Dappled Deer lit his pipe and took a long puff of it before he spoke, addressing his son.
"Your choice is an important step in a man's life, you are committing yourself to taking care of this young woman and the children who will be born from your union."
He looked at him intently as he passed him the pipe.
"This decision is a reason for pride for all of us," added the man, receiving respect and gratitude in the eyes of his son in return. His mother smiled happily as she handed him the basket.
"I have often wondered what was in here," said the young man as he pulled out the contents, unfolding a blanket in bright colors.
"I had my sister make it for you, for when this day would arrive," Dancing Stream told him.
"Thank you!" said the young man, giving her a loving look. "The sun has set, it is time for me to go," he announced as he stood up.
The mother folded the blanket and put it on his forearm before he went out. As soon as he was outside, the young man quickly glanced in the direction of Golden Falcon’s tepee, and saw that there was no line of suitors outside. He sighed with relief and, as was the tradition, he crossed the camp which was almost deserted, carrying the engagement blanket. The few Natives who were still around were returning to their tents.
When he arrived outside the tepee of his young beloved, he pushed aside the flap of hide at the entrance and met the gaze of Great Eagle, sitting in front of him.
"May I come in and sit beside Golden Falcon?" he asked with great respect.
The expression of joy on the young woman's face left no doubt about the outcome of that long-awaited visit.
"Of course, come in," Great Eagle replied.
Blowing Wind went in and sat down next to the girl, then wrapped her close to him in the blanket. They were officially engaged.
1 Chapter 5
Gokstad, 915 AD.
It was a hot June day. Ulfr and Thorald, 15 years old, were preparing to enter the adult world. Everyone was busy preparing for the party, to which the family members of Thorald's clan had also been invited. The aroma of roasting meat hung in the air: King Olaf had had two large wild boars felled for the occasion.
The boys were putting on the chain mail when they heard Olaf greeting someone warmly.
"Welcome back, my friend!"
"Olaf!" answered a man’s deep voice. Thorald recognized that voice instantly and rushed out.
"Father! You're back!" he exclaimed overjoyed.
"My son, I wouldn’t have missed such an important day for anything in the world!" declared Harald oening his arms wide. They embraced vigorously, clapping each other on the back.
"Let’s go in Harald! We must toast your return," Olaf said, putting his strong arms around his friend's shoulders.
Inside the house the servants were busy preparing all sorts of food and Herja was directing the various tasks as only a perfect hostess can do. Her youngest daughter, Isgred, was working with the servants too, as her mother had done as a girl, believing that only if she knew how to perform all tasks would she be able to direct them properly.
Isgred was 14 years old and in one or two years she would certainly become engaged to a young man of the same rank as her. Her mother wanted her to arrive at marriage perfectly prepared to play her role as lady of the house.
Herja was checking the bread baking in the oven when the two men, followed by their respective children, came into the large kitchen.
"Harald!" she exclaimed, opening her arms wide as she went towards him.
"Herja, you're always gorgeous! Even with flour all over you!" They burst out laughing, as she pestered him with questions as Olaf took two horns and filled them with mead.
"Let's toast to your return!" he proposed, offering one to his friend.
"Drekka Minni! " they toasted in unison, raising their horns, and then emptying them in a single sip.
Harald ordered his men to bring a large wooden trunk into the house.
"The gods protected me on this journey and led us to a city called Kiev, one of the largest trading centers I have ever seen. We sold all our cargo at twice the price we did at Hedeby, and we bought goods that earned us a fortune." He opened the trunk and took silk and jewels out of it.
"These are for Herja and Isgred!"
"This silk is beautiful," Herja said, opening her eyes wide, "and these jewels! Come and see Isgred!"
Curious, the girl rushed over and gasped at the sight of those wonders.
"These silver cups and spices are for the whole family, and this is for you," he said addressing his friend. He handed him an elegant red wool mantle edged with fur and silk decorations and a large gold filigree brooch to close it.
"If it wasn’t so hot today, I’d put it on immediately," said Olaf, making everyone laugh as he continued to admire his new cloak, fit for a King.
"Thank you, Harald, my friend! I really appreciate your gift." In their eyes was all the affection and mutual respect that had united them all these years since they were children, when they had chosen to become sworn brothers. Harald then pulled out of the trunk two wooden sheaths beaten in leather, on which he had had the triangular rings of bronze and gold embellished.
"And these are for you... " he said, giving them to the two boys.
