The sky is blue and the wind gently whistles past your ears. You hold your mother’s pendant, the only thing you have of hers, with its silvery face smiling back at you. Today will be a great day. You overheard last night at the evening meal that the men who sailed for glory and plunder should be home again soon, maybe even today.
Your brother Ingvar is on that ship. He was chosen to go just before mother died, and now you fear about what you must tell him. You have been alone for several weeks (has it been months?) tending the small flock of sheep you care for.
You have just walked out of your hut when you hear the noise—yelling it seems. You realize the ship must have returned. But as you run towards the water, you notice something is wrong.
You …
