The Wülf Of Skimdal (Preview)

 The Wülf Of Skimdal

It was late in the evening that Skyalf stepped out of his long house. He could hear the goats grow nervous in their shelter along the side of the house. The wolves howled over the tarring wind and he could see the storm clouds coming in from the fjord. 

He knew he had to push the wolves back from his land, or his goats would not last through the night. Taking up a long branch he held in the large fire pit that sat out of the wind and let the flames lick it until they held. 

From a rack he claimed a large war axe and made his way into the thicket of tree line that hugged his land. Around him he could hear the trees swaying violently and rustling of bushes. A loud CRACK came roughly a spear’s throw away from him. Lifting his axe high, he gave a yell causing a great grey wolf to give up its hiding spot in a bush. It bared it’s teeth holding the mans eyes, it backed down after realizing it had no pack behind it.

Gazing further up into the woods he noticed three black wolves standing in the glade. With a loud yell he picked up a stone and tossed it towards the throng. One of the beasts snapped and gave a loud shrill yelp growling as it charged towards him.

With a swift through his axe left his hand and landed square between the wolf’s shoulder blades. Reclaiming his axe from the first the second slowly stalked towards Skyalf as its brother charged him. With no more the a little struggle he managed to cleave the beast’s head before drawing his sword from his hip driving his blade deep the third wolfs jaw causing it to spasm violently before slacking on the ground.

As silence reclaimed his battlefield, he noticed what the wolves had been surrounding. Below and large oak tree was a woolen bundle lying between the many overlapping roots. Slowly approaching the tree, Skyalf fell to his knees as he wiped the blood that had splash upon his brow.  

Skyalf’s eyes widened as he reached out to the bundle. It was a baby, no more than a few days old he gaged. Quickly picking up the child he held it close to his breast in earnest to keep it warm. Upon returning to his feet, he reclaimed his axe to his hip. 

Nightfall was close at hand as he reached his long house. Upon shutting the door behind him he found his home empty and warm. Supper steaming over the fire in a large cauldron and the smell of soft fresh hay filled the room from his bed in the corner. The warm dusty smell he grew accustomed to seemed to sooth his nerved from the wolf chase.

Upon slamming the door behind him he walked over to the table and laid the child down. Carefully unwrapping the woolen blanket he found the child to be a female and from his knowledge healthy and unharmed.

Skyalf never had children of his own, nor had he ever married. It was at this moment however, that he decided to take in the young girl as his own. Her soft green eyes looked up at him unfazed, his face still smeared with the remains of the wolf blood.

“I will call you Wülf…”

For several hours he cradled her that night as he rocked her in his arms until she fell fast asleep.

The next morning, Skyalf carried the child to meet his brother Ragnar. Ragnar was jarl and held the respect and support of all the men in his village. He was married to Lyf, a tall beautiful maiden with hair of gold and the face as fair as the divine Freya. Together they had two sons Fili was the eldest already five winters old he was kept busy training to be like his father with a sword made of wood. Much like his father his hair was the color of the son and his brow was strong. His youngest son was four winters, and much to his brothers liking, he often trailed his older brother in an attempt to mirror him.

Upon reaching his brothers mead hall, Skyalf pressed the child gently to his breast. At the end of the hall he saw his brother taking conference three large men all to him he knew these men to be brothers. Jötun, Bran and Skeorn were well know and renowned as warriors whom often where sent to the edge of Ragnar’s territory to keep out invades or as scouts in crusades.

Upon approaching the group his brother immediately stepped forwards. 

“Brother! It has been a fortnight since you have come to me!”

His eyes immediately fell to his arms as he watched the bundle move softly. Returning his gaze to his brother’s eyes he quickly held up his hand to the three brothers respectfully as to excuse himself and his brother. Waving Skyalf down a corridor her had them walk to a more secluded area of the long house before allowing him to speak.

“Wolves swarmed my land in the storm. In the forest behind my home I took them down. The where after this…”

Pulling the bundle from his chest he revealed the child to his brother. Ragnar placed his hand upon the child and looked up to his brother before replacing his gaze back to the babe.  

“I intend to keep her as my own, dear brother…”

Ragnar smiled, offering his arms to hold the child. Hesitantly, he offered her to him. She squirmed awkwardly with a quiet noise before settling in the blanket.

“And I could imagine no better guardian than you, Skyalf. Though the child need milk…”

Skyalf grinned eagerly. 

“Very well, we shall take the child to Lyf. “

As they walked Ragnar held the girl close as he stroked the child tenderly.

“What will you call her, brother?”

“She is strong, I believe the Norn’s intended I find her. She will be known as Wülf…”

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