Authors: Constantine De Bohon
time Valerie did. Both men howled their release while she felt the
semen slide down her throat. Ulfr tasted as sweet as his brother.
Valerie was completely spent. The day had been so long and
hard. She fell asleep with Hott buried inside her and Ulfr removing
himself from her mouth.
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Chapter 8
Summer began and moved on as though a blur and life was
filled with living. There were so many things to learn to aid in their
daily survival. As the season began changing and growing colder,
Valerie was fitting in comfortably with her new life. To her relief
she became quickly fluent in Hott‟s language, while instilling a few
of her own words for the others to learn when the situation called
for it.
The other villagers ignored her little idiosyncrasies and grew
accustomed to her strange ways and subtle differences. They had
no idea what life was like in Valhalla and so they made excuses for
her. She had everyone in the village washing their hands often and
brushing their teeth. She had designed and, with aid of other men,
built three more outhouses. She had also talked the men into
building a huge wooden cabin out of massive logs. When they
finished they were surprised at how comfortable it was. Their
meetings were held there, as were a number of community
dinners.
There were three large hearths within the cabin. They stored
their salted preserves in the high rafters and in a cold cellar dug
deep within the ground. Valerie had insisted on a wood floor in the
cabin covered over with many furs. She had wooden furniture
built—couches and chairs that were made soft by stuffed leather
cushions. She was learning to spin wool with a whorl spindle. The
other women taught her how to make clothing for her and Hott
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and Ulfr with hemp. She accepted her Viking life with open arms.
Some of her favorite times were sitting, cradled against Hott while
others told fantastic stories. She learned of their Gods and the
respect they held them in. She shivered when they spoke of giants
as if they were real.
Valerie told them her own stories. Renditions of frightening
bedtime tales, where people were swallowed by wheeled chariots
and driven around at a frightening pace, faster and wilder than any
runaway horse could charge. She called these horrid devils the
dreaded taxis. Taxis devoured your coins and squealed away
leaving you breathless and penniless. She kept them spellbound
with tales of massive winged beasts that flew through the air high
above the clouds, stealing people away like dragons to different
lands, only these were called airplanes. Which, by the way, also
stole your money and made you grateful to be standing on solid
ground.
She introduced them to hamburgers and shish kabob and
coleslaw—finding wild carrots in the forest that were white not
orange. She tried her hand at homemade eggnog flavored with
nutmeg and cinnamon, and in turn was treated to the freshest
honey and honeycomb she had ever tasted. They partook of
mutton and lamb, fresh fish, and seaweed. They roasted chestnuts
over their fires. She even tried squirrel when Bera insisted it would
cook well in her pot, and the skins were worked into soft inside
slippers. Her surrounding area, in her eyes, had been transformed
into a grocery and retail store, only it was free—if she worked
hard enough.
Hott told Valerie he would wed her in the spring, when they
could have a huge feast. Valerie didn‟t mind waiting. They were
too busy for a wedding. All of the seeds needed to be harvested as
well as wheat and nuts. She learned how to pull back the layers of
birch bark on the tree and cut out the soft inner bark. It was then
dried and ground into sweet flour. She learned to brew ale and
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how to search for wild yeasts. Bera was a wealth of information
and the two women could be found together most days searching
the forest for food treasures.
At night Valerie would lay in the arms of her two Viking
warriors feeling loved and protected. She could sometimes hear
the soft snuffling of a bear as one or two would roam the village at
night looking for leftovers. She had been terrified to go out at night
until Hott had hand-fed one of the bears in front of her. She got
used to these gentle giants ruffling around, astounded to learn the
Vikings had thought of them as pets—if they were captured and
gentled at a young age. The bears were then left to wander free
when they became too large. It was a different life to be certain,
but Valerie was happy she had followed Hott into the mist.
* * * *
Valerie watched one morning in midsummer as Ulfr appeared
to be stalking something. His intense gaze was settled on the
horizon.
“What are you doing?” she asked him.
“Shh, I am watching that bitch,” he said and pointed to a huge
dog.
Valerie had seen her before on occasion from a distance. The
animal seemed to be coming around more often. Today she wove
back and forth near the village as though desperately wanting to
come close.
“What‟s she doing?” Valerie whispered.
“She wants to come home but is afraid. She ran away when the
raiders came. She is ashamed. She probably feels like a traitor
because her master was killed. She should have gone with him to
Valhalla. Under normal circumstances she would have fought by
his side, but it wasn‟t her time. I am pleased she is back.”
Valerie took a closer look at the dog that was edging
forwards. “She‟s had pups!” she said in surprise. She could see her
hanging teats.
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“Yes, and I want them. But I don‟t know where her den is.
She is cunning, and I tried before to follow her, but she hasn‟t
stayed around long enough. If I can get her to feed from my hand, I
can follow her back to them. They must be getting bigger and will
need meat. I am guessing her visits here are more frequent because
her need for solid food is growing. It must be hard on her to hunt
when she is used to being fed.
“Instinct draws her home. Because I am upwind she can smell
the blood on the meat I‟m holding. Stay back,” he cautioned her
when he moved quietly towards the dog. He spoke to the bitch in a
gentle voice.
Valerie watched as Ulfr handed the bitch a generous hunk of
raw deer. The dog whimpered and dropped down in submission.
She looked half-starved, poor thing. She was beautiful though. She
looked like a massive husky. Her coat was dull, fluffy and matted,
but her eyes were sharp with intelligence. Ulfr talked to her in a
soothing voice, and Valerie smiled. He had a way with coaxing
skittish females.
When the bitch came close enough, she snatched the meat and
slunk away. Ulfr followed from a distance. Valerie followed him.
She kept him well within her sight. None of the men had gone after
her again, but she was still fearful of raiders. She trusted Ulfr with
her life.
She had smiled proudly when Finna, the young girl, had asked
her how she had tossed a full grown man onto his behind. With her
father‟s encouragement, Valerie taught the young girl her moves.
When Finna had tossed her brother onto his butt, Agnar, her
father, had howled with pleased laughter and given Valerie a
skinned and worked elk hide.
“Stay here,” Ulfr directed her sternly. “I need to know where
you are.”
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They weren‟t too far into the forest. The bitch had stayed
close, but cautious. Her den had been concealed well. Ulfr settled
Valerie onto a fallen log.
“She knows me, and I don‟t want you bitten when I pull the
pups from the den.”
Valerie waited with eager anticipation. The first pup emerged
howling, as though Ulfr was killing it. The mother whined, but
didn‟t interfere. The pup was big, and he snapped at Ulfr‟s hand.
Ulfr chuckled and shook him by the scruff of his neck. The pup
whimpered when Ulfr growled and taught him he was the
dominant Alpha male. The pup settled and, smiling, Ulfr brought
him over to Valerie.
“He‟s beautiful. Will he bite me?” she asked.
Ulfr placed him near Valerie. The pup bared his teeth at her,
and she shied back. He was small, but still a good enough size to
take a chunk out of her. Ulfr grabbed the pup by his scruff and
shook him again, exuding his authority and growled deep within
his throat. The pup turned onto his belly when Ulfr released him.
“Rub his belly,” Ulfr directed her.
Valerie did as she was told and soon the pup was wiggling
happily beneath her hand. Ulfr returned with two more pups. Both
were female. One was smaller than the others. Ulfr told her there
had probably been more, but these were the strongest. That‟s why
they had survived. He hefted the smallest into his arms, and she
licked his chin and cheeks and made tiny whimpering sounds. Ulfr
pulled meat from a sack and fed her a few small pieces, telling her
what a good girl she was. She gobbled them down and begged for
more.
Ulfr handed the pup to Valerie. “You may have this one,” he
told her and she squealed in delight. He bent to grab the male by
his scruff. “And you, my little friend, are mine. I will call you
Sultan.”
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Ulfr retrieved the last pup and they both walked back to the
village with the bitch trailing them. The pups were fawned and
fussed over and a discussion began on whether the bitch should be
killed and sent to Valhalla to be with her master. Valerie hoped
not. The man had already gone on his way. She argued he must
have had a dog before this one who could walk with him into
Valhalla. On reflection they reasoned she was right—it was a good
argument. Perhaps when her heat was upon her again the bitch
would breed with a wolf. It was obvious her pups were part wolf
and the village needed the dogs.
Valerie was delighted to have the puppy trail her around, until
the animal pooped in the large cabin. One of the men asked her if
she was going to teach the dog to crap in the outhouse. The other
men found this hilarious and slapped their thighs at the joke.
Valerie rolled her eyes and told them she was, in fact, going to
make her a place to do her business away from everything else.
This resulted in more laughter until Valerie soon had the puppy
scratching at the heavy wooden door only a week later when she
needed to relieve herself. Hott had looked smugly at the amazed
men. Valerie named her puppy Petal, saying she was as delicate as
one.
Hott told Valerie he was very proud of her. That she was
becoming a good Viking woman because when she undertook a
task she stuck to it, but that she needed to accomplish one more
thing.
So far, Valerie had refused to kill anything. She had insisted
the meat they brought to her be dead and prepared for cooking
before she touched it. Hott and Ulfr now insisted they had
indulged her long enough and demanded she learn to clean the
game they brought back like the other women of the village. Today
they were adamant that she kill a small pig. The warriors had killed
the mother that morning and had given each of the women a piglet
for their stewing pots.
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Valerie stood there looking at the sweet face of the pig. His
fur was striped, and he had the cutest little feet. They were so
dainty, just like a baby‟s. Ulfr handed her a hatchet. She gazed at
the deadly looking weapon horrified. They actually expected her to
kill something? Her belly rolled with the thought.
“One good clean strike and it won‟t suffer,” Ulfr said. “Don‟t
worry, we will be close.”
Hott handed the piglet over into Valerie‟s arms. She stood
starring into the adorable face that gazed up at her with huge
solemn eyes as though sensing its imminent demise. She ran her
cheek against the piglet‟s rough fur. The poor little baby had lost
his mother. She had been taken from him. He was all alone. If not
for Hott she would have been all alone at one time. The poor little
piggy must be so afraid.
Valerie felt her tears build. She couldn‟t do it, everyone in the
cabin was watching her, and a few were chuckling. She had eaten
pig before. But the thought of killing this tiny, utterly defenseless
creature was too much. She started crying. Hott sighed heavily
with Bera berating him and the others for their cruelty to her
friend. With a shrug Hott reached for the animal, telling her never
mind, if this was the only thing she refused to do, he could live
with her kindheartedness. Valerie stepped back away from him,