Summary
A semi-short historical/fantasy about a half-human, half goddess (A Halfenwraith) goes looking for a human hero to marry. Takes place in a mythical Viking-like world.
A ‘Norse Fantasy’ about
Love, Hate, Revenge & the Gods
‘From the fury of the Northmen,
Dear Lord, Deliver us!’
(A 10th century Christian prayer)
ACT ONE: ‘The Halfenwraith’
“Come closer, friends, and list to my tale, of a man that followed his heart! Come lift up your cup and drink a deep toast, to a man that drank deep of his dreams!
You and I rise up with the sun, toil through its shining, and sleep with its fiery setting.
Our lives, like the seasons, follow a noble pattern, one that provides for our families and grants us peace at day’s end.
But not all men are made thus. No, nor all women.
Some have the wanderlust in their blood! The burning desire to do more than turn the earth, plant the seed and harvest the crop. At day’s end they need more than the knowledge of a job well done. Compelled by either the hand of the gods or their own restless nature, they must see what lies over the next hill or beyond the next headland. They need to discover from where the wide rivers flow and to where the wild wind will blow!
They, like a goodly number of you, long to follow the Whale’s Road to distant lands; to test their strength, wits and courage against warriors who plant nothing and harvest only other men’s souls. They, like some of you in this very hall, hunger for the fame that comes from doing great deeds, besting great foes and dying bravely in battle — so that their fame — and yours —will live forever!
If such things do indeed stir your blood, then come, my people! Gather round and list to my tale of a man such as I just described!”
As the people shuffled closer, a beautiful, raven-haired Shield Maiden called out boldly: “Wise Thorgi! What is the name of this brave hero? And more importantly, good ‘scald’, has he need of a wife?! For I would marry a man that follows the Whale’s Road and fears not to ride the Wild Wind!”
Many in the hall smiled at the shield maiden’s bold words and some few laughed outright — but I, Scald Thorgi Odinson, neither smiled nor laughed, but fixed the young woman with my most baleful stare. When at last I spoke, my words were heavy with both concern and prophecy.
“Your first question, Shield Maiden, is easily answered, for it is a name you and all here have doubtlessly heard many times before. I speak of the eldest son of Eric the Red, — Leif Ericson, called by many Leif the Lucky.”
The gathered Norse all grunted and nodded their approval, for the tales of the hero Leif Ericson were many and always welcome round any fire. “The answer to your second question however, is not as easily come by — for Leif the Lucky is not only a brave and fierce man, but a handsome one, and many a fine woman and comely young maid have tried to claim him for their own. When last I saw him he had not yet wed — but that was some time ago and winters are long and cold in the New World.”
