"What?" Stefan swallowed hard. "Why?"
"Because I promised yer mother. The only way to prevent ye from going to sea be to let the ships leave without us."
"But father…"
"Stefan, ye dinna have my rage and rage be what it takes for a Viking to stay alive. Ye are a gentle soul with yer mother's kindness. I would have ye live free o' war, loving a good lass and giving me lots o' grandsons. Do ye agree?"
Stefan did not agree. His mind was filled with the excitement of fierce battles, women and plunder. But he loved his father and so he reluctantly relented with the slightest of nods.
For three days, the men used the sail to shield themselves from driving rain while a massive storm tossed the ship around. If they were to be eaten by sea monsters, a storm was the most dangerous time and all the men worried - all but Stefan, who would have been delighted to see at least one.
On the fourth day, the heavy fog lifted, the sun broke through the clouds and Donar was relieved to see they had not lost a single ship. They were, however, off course. He studied the disk shadow on the deck, corrected their course and headed them once again toward Scotland.
When he could, Stefan stood in the stern hoping to be the first to sight land. Like most of the men, he wore a braid on each side of his face and then tied the two together in the back with twine to keep his long hair out of his eyes. He wore his dagger, sword and sheath proudly. His boots that laced up the sides were nearly too small, but it meant he was still growing and that was a good thing, especially for a Viking.
Being a Viking was a dream he had not yet given up. He fervently hoped his father would change his mind, perhaps when he saw how completely boring living on land day after day could be. He hardly paid attention when his father came to stand next to him, but when Donar pointed to a bird, Stefan took notice.
"The gulls tell us we are near land." Donar pulled another string from around his neck, put it over his son's head and dropped the heavy pouch inside his son's tunic. "They will expect me to have this instead o' ye. We will trick them." He winked and then folded his arms. "When the commander o' a ship dies, he be put out to sea and the ship set afire." He playfully nudged Stefan and leaned a little closer. "'Tis a waste o' a good ship."