Chapter 25—NEW HIGHLAND HOME

The journey had been long. They had only stopped for breaks and get something to eat. While each one of them wanted to make their way across the land. To where they could start their new home.

The group had found themselves at the south end of the loch. It was where Lyra felt the cooling of the wind. That was making its way across the water’s surface, hitting her face. She felt at ease from the feeling that she was getting from the new place.

Varg Drake led his wagon train towards the west and then headed towards the north. Following the water’s edge. As the wagons traveled. The wheels making a crushing sound.

Lyra had her eyes open, and she had already seen many types of mythical creatures. Or what should have been mythical, swimming nearby. She could see merpeople; creatures that could live in the water. While some of them were enjoying the surfing waves of the water.

The wagons traveled five more miles northward. On the west bank, from the south side of the loch. They did not stop until they had reached some forest-covered land.

Varg brought his wagon to a complete stop near the tree line. It was there that the other wagons have started to line up behind his. Everyone had gotten off of their wooden transports and started mapping out the landscape.

The men gathered and picked up some rocks. As a group, they set out to map out the new village. Where the huts would be placed. The Great Hall, stables, farms, smithies. And any other buildings that needed to be mapped out.

While the men were busy with the outlining, the women walked around the area. Gathering supplies like berries, water, wood, and medical herbs. Along with some other things that Carriage had asked for.

The children that were around. All of them were playing by the beach. Exploring the area that they were in. While the older ones were watching out for the younger ones.

Once the outline was mapped and supplies gathered. All the adults of the village, who were able to help, had started building the Great Hall and the surrounding huts. They even started with the important huts. The ones that needed to be built before starting on any of the others.

Lyra was surprised that most of the village were nearly built before the first nightfall. The ones that were still without homes, were going to be sleeping in the Great Hall after dinner that night. Lyra and Varg were also staying in the Great Hall. While sitting upon their thrones that some people had made for them.

Varg glanced over towards the woman beside him. “What do you think about our new home?”

Lyra gave him a knowing smile. “I like it. Hopefully, there aren’t any deranged cousins in the loch.”

Just after Lyra had said that, Thor made his way into the Great Hall, walking towards the two of them. “I’m heading for home. I’m also letting you know that there are no sinister creatures in the loch.”

“Are you sure, Thor?” asked Varg. “I’m still healing from the one that wanted to take Lyra.”

Thor sighed heavily. “I promise that there are no such creatures in this loch.” He looked towards his daughter. “Loch Shin is a lot safer. The two of you could live out your lives happily here.”

Lyra pushed herself out of her seat and made her way towards Thor, where she stood before the man who had taken her from what she knew. “Thank you for all that you have done.”

The Thunder God wrapped his arms around the only daughter he would ever know. “You take care of each other, Lyra. The two of you will live happy lives together.”

Lyra returned the man’s hug before stepping away from him. “Take a needed vacation before you sit before your ancestors.”

Thor chuckled. “I’ll try. You will not be seeing any of the Norse Gods or Goddesses after today. I am going to tell everyone that the people of Earth don’t need any of us. And that we should head for Valhalla, where we will live the rest of our days.”

The young woman sat back upon her throne as she watched Thor walk out of the Great Hall and out of her life. The man who was sitting beside her reached over and held her hand. “Everything will be alright. We could always name a boy after him, if that would make you feel any better?”

She smiled in gratitude as a tear escaped from her right eye. “We don’t have to, but thank you for saying so.”

She turned her head towards the Great Hall. Lyra knew that they were one of the first tribes of the highlands, which meant that they were the Highlanders. It caused her to feel a sense of gladness for being a Highlander. A group of people that were stronger in mind and body. They did not know when to quit. It was survival of the fittest and hardworking people.

She smiled. Lyra could not be even prouder than what she was feeling at that moment in time. She always had the upmost respect for all Highlanders.

***

It had taken a proximately three more day to have the new village built. Everyone was living as if nothing had disturbed their way of life—living like they did not have to leave their old home and then travel across the land just to build a new one.

Varg and Lyra were living life, not showing that they had a hiccup in their marriage. Life was making its way forward, just like it should.

Varg had gone out to one of the nearby monasteries. When he had first arrived, one of the head monks screamed out in another language, holding up a cross. It was then that Varg realized that the man was praying to God that Varg would not kill him. It had taken a few hours for Varg to convince the men of the monastery to come to his village and teach about God.

“Please,” gasped out Varg. “My wife knows of your God, and I need for you to teach our people about him. I want to save my people.”

A monk who looked too thin to be standing said, “Why should we believe you, Barbarian?”

“Viking,” stated Varg with a glare. “Trust my wife. She taught me about David and the giant.”

This caused many of the monks to look at the Viking. It was the older ones that were having more of a hard time understanding what Varg was saying.

“She told me that he was nothing but a little Shepherd boy. Protecting his family sheep…”

One of the younger ones spoke up. “We know the story, Viking. But why should we believe you about your Christian wife?”

“Because,” stated Varg with a heated look. He was trying so hard not to hurt any one of the men before him. “Because I don’t want my people leaving this world without knowing that the One God could save them.”

The elders were talking among themselves before one of them answered him. “We will send one of our younger scribes with you. He is known by our brotherhood as Zachariah. He will go with you and establish a church within your village.”

Varg bowed his head. “Thank you.”

It took many minutes before Varg was met by the monk that would be traveling with him. Zachariah seemed like an unlikely of people that would teach Varg and his people, all because the man seemed way too young to be a monk. The monk looked no more than sixteen years of age.

It wasn’t until they were traveling back to the village that Varg found out about the younger man’s past: that he was an orphaned to the church from a tender age of eight and learned all the languages of the world. Zachariah had also read from many scrolls that the monks had in their collection that would later be made into a book.

From the moment that Zachariah had started his teachings, it took most of the Celtic Vikings a while to get used to the idea of being taught about something that they had never heard about before, even though they had heard Lyra and Varg talk about it. It took a few villagers a while to remember what they have learned from the monk.

The monk had also taught the people how to live a better life, a life that God had wanted them to have, a life of learning from their sins and doing better than their own ancestors have done.

Even Varg was happier than he had ever been in his life. He even showed his people that he was even a better leader. The Wolf-Dragon had even gone out and walked among his people, allowing Lyra to rule over the people from the throne room. The villagers were alright with the new changes. She even got them to make a water pulley system, so no one had to use buckets to get clean fresh water.

“We need a Baptism,” stated Zachariah one day in the throne room where Varg and Lyra were sitting. “And I would like you to be the first one, Varg.”

Varg glanced at his wife, “What?”

“Baptism,” answered Lyra. “It’s when one gets dunked into the water and gets washed by the Holy Spirit so you are able to be reborn as a Christian.”

“Oh.” He then looked towards the monk before him. “Okay, when?”

“Now,” squeaked the holy man.

The first Baptism occurred that day. It was a symbol of a new life, showing all that life would be better. When Varg made his way out of the loch, wet clothes and all, he made his way to where Lyra was standing by the water.

"There is joy before the angels of God over one sinner who repents," stated Lyra while standing near the shore.

"Amen, sister," called out the only monk within the masses of people.

Varg had seen that there was something wrong with his wife because her eyes did not sparkle whenever she truly smiled. “What is wrong, my wife? I see the smile, but I see your eyes are not with us.”

Lyra smiled. “I don’t know, Varg. I just have this feeling that the peace is not going to last for long.”

She shivered, and it was not because the air seemed colder than what she was used to. It was more as if she had a feeling that the future was trying to warn her about something.

He wrapped his dripping, cold, wet arm around her. “We will face whatever comes to us.”

She kissed his cheek and wrapped her own arms around him, not caring that she was getting wet from doing so. “You are right, of course. We will face it together.”