"To be honest, a wagon might be a very good idea to bring."
Ish stayed where she was, looking at Maleus intently but made no attempt to get closer. "I am talking of our children. I sent Sigurd to fetch them, Thordis and a contingent of warriors. And we will travel to Byzantium. I could not stomach Spain or Rome."

„By..zant...ium?!“ It took a moment to understood what Ish told him, few moments ago. „Are you mad?“ Maleus shouted. „Byzantium? We have to travel across the hole bloody world to reach it. And you sent for our children? To take them with us on this journey? Did you lose your mind? If we would be at home I would take you to our bedroom and give you some heavy spanks to clear your woolly thoughts, wife.“ He felt like lion in a cage and like this big cat he started to walk from the left side of the room to the right and back.

Ish remained standing at the door, her blue eyes following Maleus' every move but she remained silent for a very long time. "Lay a hand on me, and you will be without a wife", she said finally in a quiet but deadly serious voice. She was not sure if the words were going to sink in but her outward appearance was much calmer than she felt inside. "Our children will be quite safe, you are there to protect them. So will Ulric, Trygve, Wulfgar and the warriors they are bringing from Sjaelland. And you forget, we are riding with Irish Royalty. Seighin and Molly and their children would not be travelling unprotected either."

Ish had crossed her arms in front of her chest and gazed at him. "If it takes me across the known world, what better way to do penance. But you might find kindred spirits, I hear the Byzantian Emperor pays for Varingian guards."

„Penance for nothing!“ Maleus hissed. „I don´t know this Seighin. I only met her in the arena. And I don´t know her sister also. And how many guards will they need? You should know that a small group can travel faster than a large group of armoured knights. I thought this should be a pilgrimage and not a crusade. The only good thing is, that I will have the opportunity to show my sons how to hunt and maybe how to kill some thieves or brigands.“

"You are not the one doing penance, I do not expect you to understand. Seighin and I have corresponded for years and I have met her. If ye think we should send some of the guards back home, so be it." Ish shrugged and gave her husband another long stare before opening the door behind her. "Good night", she said quietly and slipped out.

It had been years since her last visit to Rømø. Ishbeal had taken her guards and the children and rowed the short journey to the small island that had been the first holding of land she had been given after she had regained her freedom. Maleus did not know that the slave collar still existed here, buried deep in the sandy soils of the island. At the spot an apple tree grew, it's slender trunk rising into the salty air and it's fruit had a very unique flavour.
While little Hrafn tried hard to keep pace with his brother and sister as they gambolled along the beach, Isabell sat at the foot of her apple tree and watched them with a gentle smile curving her lips upward. All three of them were as blonde as she was, blue eyed like their father and mother and virtually indistinguishable from other Viking children and get they were special. Ish took great pains to make sure that they received an education that combined the traditions of their Varangian ancestors in equal measure to the kindnesses and rich history of Christianity and her own English and Scottish roots.

From here, she would once again relinquish the care of the three to Thordis and she felt a pang of regret. Yet as ever, for better or for worse, her place was at the side of her husband.
Waves gently lapped the shore and she could feel the warmth of the September sun upon her skin, feeling a warmth throughout that was caused not only by the rays but much rather by the way her life felt. Brimming with the love for her family.

"Yule! Elyn! Hrafn! Come, it's time to get back!" Quite unlady-like she raised her fingers to her lips and whistled loudly, catching the attention of the threesome almost immediately. Hrafn wobbled and fell into the sand and she laughed, ran towards him and picked him up to stroke his cheek and dust him off.
It seemed important to her that the children would see the place she held dear to her heart. One of them would have to take good care of the little island later. One day. When her last breath rose to meet the Lord.

With the incoming tide, their trip back over the small arm of the North Sea went even quicker than the trip out and Ish strode back into the camp, greeting the warriors as she went and hoping to procure some supper for herself and her children.

Maleus walked down the beach alone. It was good to be back in the north again, even if there was a new war coming.

He remembered the pilgrimage of his beloved wife to Byzantium. Understanding the reason why Ishbeal had to do this journey was still not possible for him, but it didn´t matter anymore. There was a lot of time for him which he was able to spent with his family. Together with his sons he explored the palace and the city of Byzantium. He watched the training of the byzantian army and he met a lot of Varangians. After many nights of drinking, singing and playing together, he would some of them call friends. The Varagians enjoyed meeting some other Vikings from their old homeland and Maleus and his men felt not so foreighn and homesick.
And he has spent a lot of time with his wife too. Together they visited the Hagia Sophia, an impressiv building. He never could imagine that a church could be so beautiful. And the silence in it was a big converse to the rush and the sounds of the rest of the imperial city. A place of calm and inner peace. Maybe it was this what his wife had searched for.

He shoke his head. No, he couldn´t understand the teachings of the Christians. It was so different to the way of life he had chosen for himself but he could tolerate it. At the beginning of the pilgrimage, he was angry about his wife and her faith. Angry that she wanted to cross the whole world with the family for something like her salvation. This anger was gone long ago, replaced by the feeling of happiness about the time he had been able to spent with the ones he loved. „I have to thank Ish…But I don´t know how. Without her and her pighead, I would have missed this all.“ He said to himself.

A gentle smile on her face, the Danish Queen looked at her youngest child. "All my daughters were born into a world of war. I am sorry you did not have a more gentle welcoming, my Kaja." The baby girl had her eyes closed, both hands curled into tight little fists. She lay protected by her mothers body on the furs of the bedstead that was built within the tent that had served Maleus and her as home more often than the grand fortress at Sjaelland and blankets were drawn over both to protect them from the chill of the autumn evening.
Trygve had been sent to find Maleus to tell him of the birth of his youngest child while Ish lay in the gloom, gazing at her daughter's face while lost in thoughts with only her maid for company.

Lines had begin to form at the corners of her eyes, but the sapphire orbs had lost nothing of their brilliance which glimmered with the tears caused by the emotions that the arrival of a newborn baby brought with it. Her arm curled around the tiny baby, Ish thought that she ought to write a letter. Her friend would appreciate news, to be sure, and since the new girl was named for her she ought to know.
The name was like a sigh on her lips as she finally fell into exhausted sleep herself.

If one looked at the Queen of Denmark, fine lines could be made out around her brilliantly blue eyes and around the corners of her mouth. They showed signs of the strain of the last few years but also that she had not lost her easy smiles and disposition, a sign that she never yet lost that quirk of humour that had kept her sane during the times of captivity or times of war. Indeed, had there ever been a time of peace?

She glanced over the sea towards the ships that swayed in the gentle waves close to the shore and those that were beached, water splashing with a faint gurgling noise against the stout overlapped timbers of their hulls. Brightly painted shields hung over their sides, the sails were down and perhaps these moment were as peaceful as her life was ever going to get.
The former Englishwoman walked a short distance and two sets of steps crunched on the sand as her guard insisted on accompanying here. The smile reappeared as she thought on his words before she left the tent that she shared with her husband. "It is not safe.." But when was it ever? It was after all a wonder she had survived thus far, surviving battle, capture, further battles and giving birth to four healthy children. Yule was not so little anymore, he had joined the warriors at home and soon his time would come when he would join the warriors that travelled with Maleus to join the fighting at the side of his father. Elyn showed the same ferocity and would not be kept from the training grounds in the Fortress, much to the worry of her mother who had hoped her daughter would have chosen a gentler path in life. But then, with a mother who preferred to be at the thick of battle it was perhaps unsurprising that the girl could already handle herself well with staff, axe and shield.

As she walked, the weight of the sword by her side reminded her that battle was yet to come and she sighed, stopping short of the distance she had meant to walk. "Come Trygve. We better get ready."
The lines of worry on her face increased a fraction before her face smoothed and she broke into a smile, casting a speculative glance at her guard. "Last at the tent has to bring the beer!" And with that she broke into a run.

Finally alone.

Ish sat on the floor with her head bowed. This year would go down as the saddest in her life. Not even after the death of her mother had she felt such desolation, such a deep pit of depair in her heart. Her children were safe but the men were not. But here in her solitary confinement, she was completely cut off from anyone, she did not know who survived the last desperate battle or if they lost more good men.
She took a deep breath, filling her lungs to the point of pain and rubbed her face. At some point surely someone would come to speak to her. But she understood that she was too valuable to be let go. The former Queen of Denmark would be a wonderful strategic gem to have in hand.
Another deep breath and rubbed her neck where her Rosary had once been. Instead it was bare and she bowed her head as she began to recite psalters. God would give her the necessary strength, she had weathered wore storms.