"This is the strangest thing I've ever seen before," Erik notes from seated on top of horse, while the rest of our gazes are craned upwards above the tree line.

"It is only Huginn or Muninn." Gorm states, a grin heard from his pleased smile as the Raven circles back just as it's done since the moment we left Ormensthorpe.

"Huginn or Muninn?" Anders repeats so I give a nudge with my thighs to cue Hefna to join his horse on the narrow trail. Pulling my eyes from the peculiar bird I reach Anders who still gazes upwards with his brows crinkled together.

"My people of Kivikstead worshiped the twin Ravens." I say, the nostalgia buds in my chest, and I warm all over remembering the festivals surrounding the creatures, "Huginn and Muninn are a pair of ravens that fly all over our lands and also cross into Midgard, the realm of the Gods. They gather information for the All-Father, Odin." At the mention of Midgard and Odin Anders drops his eyes from the skies and lets out an annoyed sigh.

"And just how did these Ravens deliver their findings to your Odin?" He asks, and I grin. It's clear Anders doesn't believe in my Gods or their messengers.

"Huginn and Muninn can speak."

Anders scoffs and joins it with an eye roll, "Ualach aoileach muice."

I laugh at the spat words, "Translation, Rottur?"

"That's a load of pig dung."

"Is it?" I ask not offended in the least. My faith in the Gods is strong, I'm simply filling my time on this journey with entertainment in the form of harassing Anders anyway I can. "And just how did your All-Father turn water into wine?" I lift a proud brow and Anders shoots me a look of surprise.  "I suspect two talking birds isn't the strangest thing neither of our faiths have to offer."

Led by Leif, the line of horses begins down the trail again with a quick call from the bird above. I keep the reins taunt on Hefna, to allow for Anders to go ahead then cue my horse to fall into step behind Anders and his mount.

We ride, hours and hours. Until the forest Of Ormensthorpe thins and the trail widens. We're on a popular trade route that is the shortest distance to Birka, the Stag Province. A seaside land with black sand and yellow wheat plains. Svea always spoke fondly of the place and I knew she misses it dearly. While we still remain close to Ormensthorpe, Leif chose the trade route, but when we will become closer we will be taking the trail less traveled to avoid the Skomamaor. Reaching Birka and speaking with Jarl Guttar will be of the utmost importance. Six warriors, no matter how skilled, against an unknown number of útlagi (banished outlaws) isn't an ideal situation.

To my pleasure, the Raven that had followed us from Ormensthorpe has been a constant travel companion in the sky. Every curve around a mountain and every thick forest we enter, he follows. The moment I think he's stopped his journey with us is the moment a caw is heard from above.

The bickering between Anders and I continues throughout our journey. Making the hours move quickly for me, but to my pleasure has the opposite affect for the Irishman. Gorm has even passed the pair of us, surely annoyed by our voices leaving me the last in line with Anders ahead of me.

The sun sits low in the sky and within the canopy of the trees my sights adjust to the dim lighting. We've stopped at a stream nestled between two steep banks. Finding a low and relatively flat point for the horses we let them rest and drink. I've gathered a palmful of red berries and pop them gingerly into my mouth, relishing the sour but delightful taste exploding on my tongue. Leaning with my ankles crossed against Hefna's hip I suck on a large berry, enjoying the flavor then freeze as the raven drifts from the canopy down to a lower branch surveying our resting group.

"This bloody bird." Anders curses, the iron chain cuffed to his wrist jingles as he turns to his horse to complain to his horses arse.

I form an 'o' with my lips and whistle a little melody, watching the black bird on the branch snap it's head this way and that way. It returns my whistle with a caw and Anders groans beside me. I chuckle and toss a few berries across to land at the base of the tree where the raven is perched. It flutters down, and pecks the berries. With a violent shake the berry is thrown from it's beak and it hops to face me, looking expectant as ever. "Picky are we?" I smile. With a wipe of my hands I turn to Hefna and pull the drawstring hanging from the saddle to open my small pouch of seal jerky. Retracting a short meaty strip I turn holding it up for the bird to see, "This? I dried it myself."

"Your jerky can kill a clan on one strip alone," Leif comes up beside me giving a quick skeptical glance to Anders who glowers close to his horse. My nerves fire off but I hide my anxiety with a throw, casting the dried meat over to the waiting bird.

"It's improved." I quip and we both watch the raven pick at the jerky twice, then gobble it up.

"I see that. Good thing, otherwise Odin would rain his wrath upon you for killing one of his messengers." He counters and I exhale a sharp laugh. The atmosphere thickens and I find my arms crossed tightly over my chest. "A lot has changed in these two winters ... you're taller, your jerky isn't poison, you're a king-slayer, and ..."

"I haven't changed that much," I avoid looking at him and keep my attention purposefully on the bird.

"You have." He deadpans. The skin under my ear heats from his gaze and the warmth trails down my neck, following the trail of my tattoo. "This is new." The side of his finger draws a soft line from my ear my neck. My skin rises to bumps and a chilled quiver travels down my spine. In two winters I've covered myself in tattoos. Every limb and every body part is covered in runes or bands. Even the high tips of my ears look as though they've been dipped in black paint.

"You've got new tattoos, as well." I say, my voice thick and low, "I saw the raven on your breast." The moment the words take life I feel the guilt churn within my belly. Then, the guilt is swallowed by confusion. As the Prince of Orm, there is no need to tattoo a raven onto his skin. It's obvious that tattoo is a representation of me.

"I wished to honor my brother. My guardian deserves space on my skin."

"Guardian?" The skin between my brows crinkle, "Do you remember something I don't?" If anyone was a guardian, it was Leif.

He half-laughs, then drops his head, "I suppose not. Ready your horse. We are leaving soon." Leif says then turns on his boot and leaves me.

Two winters has indeed changed us all.

Anders grunts as he struggles, but manages to gain his high position on his horse. "I spent many nights beneath the stars drifting lost at sea with Leif." The chain jingles locking his good arm into an awkward angle attached to a iron collar around his neck. I mount Hefna just in time to follow the others, then cast a look over my shoulder. The raven's black feathers shine the darkest blue as it catches the light of the hidden moon above. Then it shoots from the forest floor disappearing above the trees. "One would think, Tove Ubbedottir was one of your gods by the way he spoke of you."

I click my tongue and Hefna trots a few strides to catch up to the others. "Shall I remind you that perhaps I am a god?" Of course, I am not. But I can't help but avoid the topic Anders has brought up once more with some humor and a chance to annoy him.

"Many from my mother country would say 'Men worship one God and themselves. Good men worship God, alone. And the best men worship God and their woman'." I snort a laugh in response. His words make no sense to me but I don't wish to interpret them.

Holding onto being the bane of this mans existence I chide, "And what sort of man are you, Rottur? Besides an armless one?"

The riders ahead of us all snort and break into a quiet chuckle meanwhile Anders mutters something under his breath and steels his jaw. I know that comment will silence him the rest of the night or perhaps even the rest of the journey.

Unbothered, I raise my eyes to the break in the canopy above and squint searching for the raven but struggle in the darkness. I whistle. But the only sounds that respond are the clopping of the horses hooves. I whistle once more, then notice Hefna's ears flick quickly forward then back, then they lay flat as another horse snorts with agitation from ahead.

"Leif?" His name is a stressed warning on my lips. And my skin pricks as my ears train on a distant twig snapping in the darkness. We're being watched. And more than likely, hunted. Based on the others ahead of me and the flexed hunch in their shoulders I know they are aware of us being stalked as well.

My eyes scan for any movement beyond the trees, but these hunters move unseen. Then, a dark flash from the high branches above catches my attention. My shield, the gift from Leif, remains on the hooked leather of my saddle. Ever so slowly, I hook my arm into the arm holds and grip the reins tightly.

Suddenly, a rain of arrows pours down onto us. Lifting my shield I take the impact of two arrows at once while the others do the same. The chestnut mare screams and tumbles to the ground, throwing Anders to the ground. Gorm's horse  spooks from an arrow in its shoulder, then another crumples the animal to the dirt as Gorm rolls before being pinned beneath the large animal. "Trees!" I yell to the group as another wave of arrows spears down upon us.

I kick my heels into Hefna's ribs, sending her into an immediate gallop as I hear Leif's voice demand, "Shield wall — Tove! No!"

It's too late. I'm already too close to the first low tree. I drop the shield and exchange it for the bow and arrow quiver while the axe that killed my father and the Oathbreaker bounces against my leg matching Hefna's strides. I kick my feet from the stirrups and pounce up landing on the balls of my boots on the saddle, struggling to maintain balance as Hefna darts towards the tree line. Screams erupts behind me, but I release the reins and jump from the saddle catching an incoming branch with a hard "humf!"

Adrenaline pulsates through me. I swing my axe into the wide shaft of the tree and pull myself up using my axe as a makeshift anchor.  Quickly, I find my footing in the crook of the tree and sheath my axe, switching it for the short bow and quiver.

I find a target before I can bat an eyelash and send the arrow straight into the outlaws throat. He falls from the tree with a thud, taking with him his bow and several snapped branches.

Bark explodes into bits as an arrow penetrates the tree near my head. I duck on reflex and fallow the line of the arrow to a nearby tree just as the archer is loading his bow with another arrow. Slinging the bow to my shoulder I jump from the branch catching hold of one above. I pull myself up with a loud grunt and straddle the tree limb readying the bow and an arrow knowing the trunk of the tree momentarily blocks me from the archer. Twisting back, I spot another man shooting into the circle of raised shields. I aim then shoot, then again in quick succession. Taking two archers out quickly. 

"AHHH!"

Twisting back I'm face to face with an incoming axe blade. I slam back against the branch almost tasting the metal as it whizzes just missing my head. Then a screaming man with a raised axe comes down on top of me. I lift my bow and the axe lodges into the the thick hilt. I glare into the face of the útlagi as he glares back, then I twist the bow violently, twisting the axe from the mans grip. The pair of us follow the momentum of the weapons and fall from the tree landing hard on the ground.

The air is expelled from my lungs but I ignore the fire within my desperate lungs and push myself up just as the útlagi throws a punch. I dodge it, catching a glimpse of an archer reaching into his quiver with his sights set on me. I spin back and rush the útlagi gripping the front of his furs then pull him to the ground on top of me just as an arrow impales itself into the back of my assailant.

A shine of metal catches my attention on the forest floor a few meters away. Thinning my eyes I spot my shield lying where I'd dropped it moments ago.

With a cry I jump up and load the dead to my back and hustle to the shield, taking two more arrows. I drop the carcass and snatch the shield turning to block another incoming arrow, but instead the archer falls limply from the trees. Turning to my group, Leif lowers his bow and captures my eyes with his.

Archers leap from the trees and close in on our group with their axes held high meaning to take the battle from the trees to the ground.

Im patting myself on the back. Two days in a row with two updates.

This chapter again was so much fun. I hope it's coming across well.

Any guesses on what will happen next?

Thanks
Cc