The morning air held a crisp freshness as Astrid and Sigrida emerged from Leif and Freya's cottage, their eyes bright with anticipation. Behind them, Freya carried a bundle of wooden practice weapons, the worn handles hinting at years of use.

  "Ready for your first day of training, girls?" Freya asked, her voice carrying the confidence of a seasoned warrior eager to pass on her knowledge.

  Astrid nodded eagerly, while Sigrida's response was more measured, her face composed but her eyes shining with anticipation.

  As they stepped into the dewy grass, Erik appeared from around the side of the cottage, a ladder slung over his shoulder. His eyes met Astrid's briefly, sharing a moment of understanding and support.

  "Off to fix the roof?" Astrid asked, her tone light but tinged with excitement about the upcoming training.

  Erik nodded, his gaze including both girls. "Be careful with your weapons," he said, then caught himself and added with a smile, "though I suppose that defeats the purpose of training." He headed towards the cottage, his footsteps leaving temporary imprints in the damp earth.

  Brandr emerged from the cottage with Leif, fishing nets draped over their shoulders. As his eyes fell on Sigrida, he froze for a split second, his usual confidence faltering. In a heartbeat, he composed himself, his easy smile sliding back into place. Brandr winked at Sigrida before following Leif towards the shore, the salty sea breeze ruffling their hair. A flicker of satisfaction crossed his face, reassured by his ability to maintain his composure.

  Sigrida felt a rush of warmth to her cheeks at Brandr's wink, her first instinct to look away. But she caught herself, willing her features to remain impassive. She met his gaze steadily, her coolness a shield against his charm.

  Leading them to the nearby meadow, Freya set down her bundle and began laying out the practice weapons. The sweet scent of wildflowers mingled with the earthy aroma of damp grass, creating a peaceful backdrop for the impending lessons in combat.

  "Before we begin," Freya said, her voice taking on a more serious tone, "have either of you had any prior training?"

  Astrid spoke up, her voice carrying a hint of wistfulness, "I used to train with my brother Asbjorn. We'd practice for hours sometimes, but that stopped when he got married a few years ago. He became so busy with his new responsibilities... I'm afraid I'm quite rusty now."

  Sigrida looked down, a flicker of guilt crossing her face. Her fingers twisted the hem of her tunic as she answered quietly, "No training," avoiding Freya's piercing gaze.

  Freya's keen eyes assessed both girls. "Astrid, your previous experience should serve you well. We'll soon shake off that rust. Sigrida, we'll begin with the fundamentals." She lifted a wooden practice sword, its edges worn smooth from years of use. "Though not every warrior has a sword, it's a versatile and balanced weapon, ideal for those who can master it. It can be wielded one-handed, leaving your other arm free for a shield."

  Astrid stepped forward, grasping the hilt with familiar eagerness. Her first few swings were clumsy, but flashes of her former training shone through. Freya made gentle corrections to her stance and grip.

  When Sigrida's turn came, she took the sword with unexpected poise. Her first swing cut the air cleanly, her footwork nearly flawless.

  Freya studied the young woman intently. "Sigrida," she said slowly, "that doesn't look like the work of an untrained hand. Are you certain you've never wielded a sword before?"

  Sigrida's eyes darted between Freya and Astrid, conflict clear on her face. Finally, she sighed. "There was... there was an old thrall named Yngve," she admitted softly. "He was a warrior once, before fate turned against him. He taught me in secret, saying a woman should know how to defend herself."

  Her voice dropped lower. "We had to keep it hidden. If anyone discovered a thrall teaching the warrior's arts..."

  Understanding dawned in Freya's eyes. "Ah, I see."

  Sigrida straightened, a spark of confidence igniting in her gaze. "But I don't need to keep secrets here in Honningdal, not among friends." With that, she gripped the practice sword firmly and executed a series of complex maneuvers, ending with an elaborate flourish that left both Astrid and Freya wide-eyed.

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  "Well then," Freya said, impressed. "Let's discover what else Yngve taught you."

  As the morning wore on, Freya's voice carried across the meadow, explaining the strengths and weaknesses of each weapon. Astrid and Sigrida listened intently, their eyes bright with determination.

  "When Asbjorn trained me, it was more for fun than anything else," Astrid said, hefting a wooden axe. "But I think we could actually fight alongside Erik and Brandr one day!"

  Sigrida nodded, her grip on the practice sword steady and sure. "It's more than just self-defense for me. Now I can protect my friends, too."

  Freya's eyes gleamed with approval. "These skills will serve you well in many aspects of a shieldmaiden's life. Whether you're defending a village, exploring new lands, or fighting alongside your companions, what you learn here will be invaluable."

  As they progressed through each weapon, Erik glanced down from his work on the roof, watching their training with a mix of pride and curiosity. His eyes were drawn to Astrid as Freya demonstrated a complex maneuver. In a swift motion, Freya sent Astrid tumbling backwards, landing flat on her bottom.

  Erik's body tensed instinctively, his hand gripping the roof's edge as he prepared to climb down. But he paused, forcing himself to stay put as he watched Astrid's reaction. To his relief and admiration, she burst into laughter, dusted herself off, and sprang back into her fighting stance, eager to try again.

  Erik watched with quiet pride, his respect for Astrid's resilience and determination growing with each exchange. As he returned to his work, he found himself particularly impressed by Sigrida's polished movements, making a mental note to inquire about her unexpected skill later.

  The hours flew by as Freya guided them through various combat techniques. Astrid's natural enthusiasm shone through as she threw herself into each exercise, while Sigrida's quiet determination drove her to perfect each move. They practiced with swords, axes, and shields, learning to anticipate each other's actions.

  By midday, both girls were flushed with exertion and excitement, their bodies aching but their spirits soaring. Erik, descending from the newly repaired roof, spotted Brandr and Leif approaching from the shore, strings of gleaming fish swaying from their hands.

  Brandr's gaze was drawn to the training ground, where Sigrida was expertly parrying Freya's advanced techniques. His eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and admiration flashing across his face as he watched her fluid movements. For a moment, an unexpected surge of emotion welled up in his chest, catching him off guard.

  Shaking himself from his reverie, Brandr hung the string of fish on a wooden post outside the cottage. He strode towards Astrid and Sigrida, a smile across his face. "I must say, I'm impressed," he called out. "You two fight like seasoned warriors already." Then, beaming with pride, he added, "Must have been my inspirational talk about hard work, persistence, and passion, eh?"

  Sigrida smiled at Brandr's boast, while Freya nodded approvingly. "They did work hard," she affirmed. "Take a break, girls. I'll see to the fish." As Freya headed towards the cottage, the four young people remained outside, Astrid and Sigrida beaming with pride.

  "Erik, you won't believe what Freya taught me about the bow," Astrid exclaimed, her eyes bright. She enthusiastically described a new technique, surprising even Erik with her newfound knowledge.

  Astrid turned to Sigrida, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "But Sigrida's been keeping a secret all these years," she said, grinning. "Remember Yngve, Erik? He had been training her in secret. You should see her with a sword!"

  Sigrida looked down and smiled shyly, but her satisfaction was evident in the proud set of her shoulders.

  Brandr's gaze lingered on Sigrida, his expression a blend of admiration and wonder. He found himself marveling at how this quiet girl, who had already intrigued him so, could still manage to surprise him. It was as if she were a puzzle he couldn't quite solve, each piece more fascinating than the last.

  Erik noticed Brandr's intense focus on Sigrida, and a twinge of concern flitted across his face. Sensing the need to redirect, he glanced at the dwindling woodpile. "Brandr and I will need to venture into the forest for a few days to fell more trees," he announced. "We should leave tomorrow morning."

  "Ooh, the forest!" Astrid's eyes lit up. "We want to come along!"

  "There won't be much to do there while we're working," Erik pointed out.

  "We can gather herbs for Freya," Sigrida suggested. "She's running low on several kinds she needs."

  Astrid nodded eagerly. "Yes! She especially needs more for Leif's compresses."

  "Well, the girls can have fun picking flowers while we do the real work," Brandr said with a playful smirk, stealing a glance at Sigrida. Her sharp look made him quickly add, "And Leif would certainly appreciate fresh herbs for his back."

  "And we can practice our shield stances!" Astrid continued brightly, demonstrating a move she'd learned. "Freya says we should practice whenever we can."

  Erik sighed, knowing he was outnumbered. "Fine, but be ready at first light. It's a long walk to where the best trees grow."

  The four turned back toward the cottage, a new sense of excitement building for their forest adventure. The savory aroma of roasted fish and herbs wafted out to greet them, a fitting end to their day of new experiences and deepening bonds. The girls demonstrated a few of their new moves as they walked, their laughter mingling with the evening birdsong.