Forth to Vinland
A young woman straightened her overcoat, shifting uncomfortably. It might have been a sign of nervousness, or just a response to the cold. February in the North Atlantic was not something to which she was accustomed. The ship's deck below her rocked rhythmically from side to side, but she held herself stiffly in position, a pair of tired, starkly blue eyes staring out into the grey expanse.
She was a thin, wispy figure, with a waifish air about her. Beneath a blue beret, her hair, long and blonde, was loose, tinged with a light frost and tossed by the wind. Her nose and cheeks were ruddy from the cold, overshadowing the tan of several years of life in the tropics.
Behind her, a door opened and closed.
“Ma'am?”
The woman turned. A stout, bearded man gave her a respectful nod.
“Pardon my asking, but don't you suppose you should come inside? You're liable to catch a chill out here in this weather.”
Looking down, Kristina saw frost building up around her collar, crystallizing like icy ferms around her small, glassy brooch.
“I suppose it would be silly to do that to myself, wouldn't it Mister Brekke?”
“Just a little, milady. Besides, Captain has informed me that we're nearly at the port of Johansborg.”
“Oh? So soon?” Kristina scanned the horizon, but the icy fog had rolled in once more, occluding all vision of the coast. “I thought we'd only just entered into the Birgittasvik.”
“Ah, well, Johansborg's a little further out the bay than the capital. King Ingvar suggested that it would be best if your arrival were... somewhere a touch more discreet.”
“Discreet?”
“Ah, well... they say the Nya Stockholm crowd can be... overenthusiastic towards high-profile arrivals. Given the circumstances, it's probably best if...”
Kristina gave a sharp nod, conferring both agreement and understanding. “Frankly, I'd be quite happy to never have to deal with such things again.”
Albert Brekke gave a sympathetic nod. “It's unfortunate, but such things can be... terribly hard for someone of your birth to avoid.”
Further conversation was interrupted by several short blasts from the ship's horn.
“Ah. Milady, we'll be in port any moment now. Shall I fetch your trunk?”
“I'd be most grateful, Mister Brekke.” The short man began to turn away, when Kristina spoke up once more. “Mister Brekke?”
“Yes ma'am?”
“Have you ever been to Vinland before? I've seen naught but trees, hills and islands, whenever the fog chooses to lift.”
“Well, I've been here before ma'am, but never beyond the coast. Have you travelled here before?”
“Once. But I was very young, and it was the summer then.”
“Well then, I suppose that we are both on something of an adventure.”
Kristina's eyes met those of her aide, and her stoic expression cracked into a small smile.
“An adventure, Mister Brekke? Hmm, I think I quite like thinking of it as that.”
Albert returned the smile. “Now if you may excuse me, your luggage...”
“Of course.”
Kristina turned back towards the side of the boat, the
Kesjarinna av Oslo, and watched as land began to materialize out of the fog.
“Vinland.”
