Elign, Scotland 934 AD (eleven years later)

Wind whipped against the sails as Jain gripped the side of their ship while struggling to maintain balance. The deck was slick from the sheeting rain that came pouring down from overhead. The skies opened with the violent clash of Thor’s hammer on the ocean waves. The men around her frantically pulled down the sails, so they wouldn’t be shred to ribbons before they had a chance to make landfall.

“Ragnar, get down!” her father yelled.

Jain gasped, tripping over a coiled piece of rope and almost went flying overboard.

“Jain!”

A hand reached out to grab her and grabbed the hem of her tunic before she landed face first into the salty water. She glanced up and saw her brother Ragnar grinning as he held on to her while clasping the main post for security.

“Don’t worry, Jain. I’ve got you,” he called over the deafening thunder.

She smiled at him and pulled herself back to a more secure location. Her heart was pounding wildly, and even though the wind was raging and the sea was threatened to rip their ship in two, Jain had an overwhelming sense of calm.

They were Vikings. This is what they were born to do.

She trusted the men and her father to get them safely to the shore and knew they would be alright. As she settled into a dip between the oars, Leif and Ragnar laughed. It was exhilarating to be with them on such an incredible adventure.

Their father, Erik, sighed. “Children. You don’t even have the sense you were born with. What am I going to do with you?”

“Sorry, papa.”

“You should thank your brother, Jain. We almost lost you.”

“Thank you, Ragnar.”

Erik grinned as another crack of lightning split the sky. “Look ahead, children. You can see land on the horizon.”

Jain felt a thrill of excitement and strained her eyes to see.

“I don’t see it.”

Their father sighed. “Perhaps not, but it’s coming up just the same.”

“There it is!” Ragnar told her, pointing off into the distance.

Jain followed his finger until her eyes rested on a dark patch of rocks barely visible above the windswept waves. Her mouth fell open at the sight of it, completely dumbfounded. There was her family’s new home. Their hope for a new life and better farming land. It was beautiful.

Jain sat up gasping as she woke from the dream of her past. A sheen of sweat had broken out across her forehead and she panted to catch her breath.

Her eyes flickered to the wooden box sitting in the corner, which held her father’s brooch. On the day she saw her father die, Eamon gave it back to her before bringing her to Elign. She kept it hidden from the world, tucked away where no one else could see – a secret treasure from her past. It took a moment for her heart to slow and remember she was safe.

Aileen groaned, sitting up on the mattress next to Jain. “Are ye alright?”

Jain nodded, running her fingers through her long red hair, and threw her legs over the side of the bed so they would touch the floor. It was not the first time the horrible attack haunted her dreams, but it hadn’t happened in years. What could have caused her to remember such an awful time in her life now? She was ten and eight years old, a grown woman compared to the wee lass that Eamon pulled from the wreckage.

“Just another dream,” she assured Aileen quietly. “Why dinnae ye go back to sleep?”

Her cousin yawned, crawling out of the bed and hugging Jain gently. “It’s too late fer that now, I’m already awake.”

Jain stood up to grab her tunic off the chair and pulled the garment over her head. The soft gray linen added a layer of warmth above her shift and she pulled on an extra layer of knitted hose to protect her legs. The neckline and sleeves of her tunic were edged with dark blue fabric that had been embellished with a herringbone pattern. It was her favorite thing to wear in the winter months since Moira had given it to her a few years back.

She glanced back at Aileen after she finished getting dressed and offered a sleepy smile. Her cousin’s dark, brunette hair matched her eyes and fell almost to her waist when it was plaited in a braid. Jain had bound hers back as well, wrapping it around her head in a piece of cloth.

Together, they walked out into the living space, keeping quiet so as not to disturb Jain’s sleeping parents.

“Ohh, tis freezing in here,” Aileen whispered in a hiss. “I’d best get started on a fire.”

Jain padded across the dirt floor to grab her cloak and a bucket from the corner. “Ye do that, love. I’m going to milk Fiona.”

Aileen hummed an acknowledgment as she fussed around the fireplace and Jain walked out into the cold. It had been a blessing to have Aileen stay with them while her mother, Nora, was away. She was always pleasant and eager to help with chores, even though she missed her mother terribly. Despite the protests of Eamon and Keenan, Nora began traveling the countryside after her husband’s death to sell her wares and help bring in extra income. Jain knew they would have preferred she remarry, but Nora paid no attention. Jain had listened in awe as Nora pled her case after presenting the idea to them, arguing she had no wish to be another dependent widow. While she was gone, Aileen would always come and stay with Jain and her parents. Knowing his spirited and stubborn sister would carry out her plan regardless of his orders, Keenan allowed her to go but insisted she take two of the warriors with her.

Jain hummed to herself, making her way over to the stables on the other side of the house. Their cow, Fiona, was already awake and chewing cud when Jain stepped through the wooden gate. “Good morrow, girl,” she crooned.

The cow snorted lazily and continued chewing while Jain set up her stool and began milking. It didn’t take long before the pail was full. Jain patted Fiona on the neck and took the bucket with her as she closed the wooden gate. The warm milk sloshed inside the pail with every step she took, walking back around the side of the house. Her stomach was still in knots over the distressing images from her dream, but she pushed them to the back of her mind. She didn’t like thinking about it, and no good ever came from dwelling on the past.

Golden rays of dawn started to creep over the hills as she made it to the door and opened the latch to let herself inside.

Eamon and Moira were already awake, bustling about the kitchen with Aileen. Jain had grown to love Eamon and Moira for welcoming her into their home. She couldn’t have asked for more loving parents. The first few weeks had been rough for everyone. Many nights she woke up crying for her father who was slaughtered before her very eyes, but now Eamon was every bit as much a father to her as the real one had been – Eamon was there for her when she needed him.

“Good morrow, love,” Moira greeted her with a smile. A curl of Moira’s light brown hair poked out from beneath her head wrapping and fell gracefully to the side of her face.

“Good morrow, Mam.” Jain put the bucket of milk on the table, then washed her hands in the water bowl on the washstand.

Eamon patted Jain on the shoulder, grabbing a cloak from a hook by the door. He tied the bindings beneath his chin and lifted the hood above his head. Jain smiled at him. “Good morrow, Da.”

“Good morrow, Jain,” he responded. “Ye’re a good lass tending to Fiona fer me.”

She kissed him on the cheek and said, “’Twas nothing. She’s always gentle with me.”

Eamon chuckled at her affection. “That’s probably because ye’re gentle with her. I’ll be right back after I’ve finished with the coop. Ye lasses go on and start without me.”

He disappeared beyond the threshold and the door fell shut behind him. Aileen finished stoking the fire and was seated, humming a cheerful tune as she tended to the sewing. Jain turned her attention towards her mother. Moira flinched, reaching up to grab the spices and stumbled backwards with her hand against her hip. Jain rushed over and put an arm around her for support. “Mam, let me help ye with that.”

Moira opened her mouth to protest, then sank down into one of the chairs and nodded in agreement. “That could be fer the best. My hip is bothering me today.”

Aileen was on her feet as well. “Can I get ye a compress? Or a drink of water?”

“Some water would be lovely, dear.”

Aileen rushed to the pitcher to fetch some water while Jain knelt beside Moira, saying, “Mam, ye need to rest.”

Moira shook her head. “Nae, child. There’s much still needing to be done before the cold. The farm needs tending and yer da cannae do it by himself.”

“I can help with the chores,” Jain insisted. “Ye’ll make it worse if ye keep pushing yerself like this. I dinnae want to see ye getting hurt.”

Her mother patted her gently on the cheek and then kissed her on the forehead. “That’s why I love ye.”

Aileen returned with the cup of water in her hand. “Here ye are, Aunt Moira.”

Moira took the cup and drank it swiftly before setting it down on the table. “Thank ye, lass. Now I need to go and help yer da gather some eggs.”

“Mam…”

“It’s nae trouble,” Moira assured her. “Why dinnae ye get started on some bread and I’ll help when I get back?”

“Yes, Mam.”

Moira nodded with encouragement as Jain gathered supplies to get started on a loaf of bread. The skin crinkled around Moira’s eyes, offering a pensive smile. Aileen slowly made her way back to her seat and returned to her sewing project. While Jain and her cousin became occupied with their tasks, her mother excused herself to step outside into the cold.

Jain rolled her sleeves up to her elbows and poured flour through the sifting tool, collecting the chaff in a metal grate so a fine powder would fall into her mixing bowl. Jain loved to bake. A whole series of dried herbs hung from the rafter by the window. She liked trying different combinations of flavors, making each loaf a bit unique. “What are ye working on?” she asked her cousin.

Aileen held up the tunic she was repairing, showing her the tear along its hem. “Mending a bit,” she responded. “I keep ripping out the hem somehow. I wanted to have this one finished in time to wear to the festival.”

“I’m sure ye’ll look beautiful in it nae matter what,” Jain told her. “Yer stitches are so neat and even, I barely see them. Ye’re much better at it than I am.”

Aileen laughed, going back to her needlework. “All it takes is practice.”

Jain and Aileen had been nearly inseparable ever since Eamon brought Jain back from the wreckage of battle. She glanced over at her cousin quietly focused on her task and grinned, thinking about the first time they

Jain remembered shifting nervously from foot to foot while standing in Eamon and Moira’s home. Even as a little girl, the cottage tucked away in the highland hills along the province of Moray had seemed small to her. Like many of the other homes, the building was divided into two, separated by a wall in between. The other half of the house was where they kept their livestock because it kept them warm at night.

She had felt self-conscious being the center of attention and having all the grownups look at her. She hadn’t understood the language they were speaking, and everything happened so fast Jain barely had time to process what was going on. Moira had scrubbed Jain’s hair, skin, and nails clean and presented her with a brand-new tunic. Thinking about it now brought a smile to Jain’s face. Moira still thought it was important to make a good impression. Eamon had knelt beside her and beckoned to Aileen to come to them. As the little girl approached she dropped her gaze towards the ground to trace a circle with her foot.

They had been the kindest people Jain had ever met. They welcomed her into their home like a daughter and treated her like family. On the day she’d met Aileen, Jain was curious to see another little girl but very nervous and a little scared.

Aileen had dark brown hair and eyes and she walked over to them with a dimpled smile. Eamon took Jain by the hand. He spoke to her in their strange language, while tears pricked at the corner of Jain’s eyes. She turned away from them embarrassed.

The dark-haired girl had gazed back at her confused when he’d finished speaking and asked something in a tiny voice that was completely undiscernible. Jain hadn’t understood what they were saying, but Eamon gave her a nod of encouragement.

All the grownups had smiled at them in the firelight and ushered them away. Aileen took her by the hand and guided her off into the corner where a box of toys was waiting.

Jain remembered glancing back over her shoulder as Nora sat down at the table next to Eamon. They had the same coloring and dark brown hair, though hers was pulled back into a veil. The resemblance was so striking that even then Jain couldn’t help but wonder if they were related.  It turned out, her assumption had been correct; she later found out Nora was his sister.

The adults watched them go and released a happy sigh.

Aileen handed Jain a rag doll and placed it in her arms like a baby while humming a lullaby. A laugh had bubbled up from Jain’s lips when she listened to the girl’s song as they sat there together and played. It was the first time she had laughed since they brought her to Elign.

That was the moment Jain knew everything would be alright.

Jain shook her head and smiled at the memory while mixing the dough with her hands. Aileen still had the same dimpled smile as back then, but they’d both grown up somewhere along the way. Jain had always admired Aileen’s patience and detail with the ornate needlework. Her hands were tiny and more skilled with delicate work like sewing. Jain found her own skills lay elsewhere.

She blended herbs and cheese into the dough, then separated it into three equal parts and braided them together with bits of dough and flour still clinging underneath her fingernails. With the colorful dusting of herbs and unique pattern, it looked fine enough for the king himself.

Jain looked up from her work as Aileen tied off the thread and cut it before holding it up to give inspection. “There.”

Moira bustled inside with a basket full of eggs and a dead chicken resting on her arm. “We’ve lost two more chickens. It must have been a fox who killed more than he could carry because he left this one, but there’s blood and feathers everywhere.”

Jain put her hands on her hips, leaving traces of flour on her tunic and let out an exasperated huff. She knew perfectly well they couldn’t afford to lose any more livestock. “That’s the second time this week. How are they getting into the coop?”

Moira sighed and shook her head, saying, “I have nae idea, child. I’ll ask Uncle Bruce if there is anything that can be done. He might be able to build a sturdier gate to keep them out. Yer da’s cleaning it up right now. He should be finished soon. In the meantime, I’ll make the best of our loss and turn it into a tasty stew. How does that sound?”

“That sound lovely, Mam. Let me know if I can do anything to help.”

She set the basket on the end of the table and started plucking out the feathers on the chicken before turning to Aileen. “How is the mending coming along there, love?”

“All finished,” the girl responded, setting the bit of fabric aside and placing it in her lap.

Moira nodded in approval. “Good work, my dear. The stitches are nice and even. I can tell ye’ve been practicing. Then ye can help Jain with the cooking. The lads will be here soon, and they always come with empty bellies.”

Jain looked at her and said, “I dinnae ken we’re expecting anyone.”

“Aye, Alan and Rodrick are coming by to fix the thatching on the roof. We have to get it secured before the winter.”

At the sound of Rodrick’s name, Aileen’s eyes widened and she burst into a glorious smile. She made no secret about her fondness for the handsome stable hand and Jain knew Moira found many occasions to have the two of them cross paths.

Jain pursed her lips, trying to conceal her own grin, but said nothing. She nodded in acknowledgement. The roof was in desperate need of repair and it was kind of Alan and Rodrick to lend assistance. Eamon and her mother did the best they could, but it was hard work better suited to younger men.

Her heart fluttered at the thought of seeing Alan because he was always teasing her. Ever since her uncle Bruce had taken him on as an apprentice, they had the chance to see each other often. They’d known each other for years, ever since Eamon brought her back with him to Elign. At times, Jain felt like he was the only person who truly saw her. Whenever she spoke, Alan was the one who listened. He knew her likes and dislikes, and they’d spoken at length about her dreams of travel while she visited him at her Uncle Bruce’s smithy.

Jain always looked forward to seeing him, but had the sneaking suspicion Moira had an ulterior motive for asking him to come. Jain was of marrying age now, and the other girls in Elign had already been promised to respectable husbands. She suspected her mother had taken it upon herself to play matchmaker.

Jain shook her head and smiled, working on her second loaf. She glanced over at her mother in the corner. Before she could say anything, there was a bustle of noise outside and a knock on the door. Moira went to answer it and Aileen turned to Jain excitedly as the door swung open, giving her arm a gentle squeeze.