Spec Goes to Gather Lumber

Spec set off for the woods, his trusted axe in hand, pulling the large wagon behind him. He stopped after some walking, and set to work looking through the stand of trees, finding and marking those that will be good for the pikes he wanted to make, and others that will be for the fires. Taking the skin of mead from his shoulder, he chugged a long pull from it, readying himself for the work ahead. He moved to the first tree, swinging his axe. The blade bit into the wood time and time again until he heard the creak, and stepped back quickly while the tree groaned its slow way to the ground.

Felling one tree after another, he worked through to the tenth ahn. He leaned on his axe and looked back, seeing the swathe he’d cut through the trees and grinned with satisfaction. He’d chopped down a full wagon load. He slipped his axe into his belt. Retracing his path, he delimbed the trunks and set aside the smaller branches for use as kindling. The he started to load the wagon with the felled timbers, chopping them to fit. While he worked, a tune came to mind and he whistled, pausing every now and then to take a pull on the skin of mead.

The huge man gripped the yoke of the wagon, bracing his feet. His boots dug into the earth and he strained as the wagon began to roll slowly down path At his destination, he emptied it turned about to look back towards the woods with a smile. He headed back to the farm and rounded up a bosk, which he led down the path to the wagon and yoked up then headed back for his second load. The bosk dragged that back in his stead.

Spec chose a few of the smaller cuts of timber from the first wagon load and others from the second. He laid them out by the breach in the wall. Looking over the steep cliff he didn’t thinking anything could make the climb but history had taught him to always be prepared. It’s better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it, he thought to himself, grinning, as he removed the limbs and smoothed the trunks, fashioning one end into a point. He did the same to each log then, picking up a shovel and an pickaxe, he walked out and set about choosing the placement of the holes that needed to be dug.

It was now a little after the twelfth ahn. The next task was to stand each post in a hole, the points skyward to form a deterrent to any would-be intruders. When each had been hoisted into place, he stood back and viewed his handiwork with a satisfied grin. Now, its time for mead, he laughed, like I need a reason.

Spec climbed the towers that reared either side of the gate and set up a block and tackle, hoisting up four timbers to each tower. He applied himself to fashioning the roofs. He took out his hammer and chisel and began chipping out the stone for each pocket to place a post in. When those were done, he fabricated a framework, then attached thatching. Finally, he hauled both roofs into place. Wiping his brow he stood back to looked over his work. With a grin, he unslung his skin of mead, after all, did he need a reason?

Dreams, Rumours and Insecurities

~   Rumours are rife of the HighJarl’s return to the Valr, but some know better than to belive all they hear and await the confirmation of their own eyes . . .   ~

The woman woke with a start. Her back ached. When she rubbed her hands over her face to try to shake off her drowsiness, she felt the imprint of fabric there, where she’d lain her cheek against her work on her loom. She grunted and rose from the seat, walking over to her still-sleeping child. How lucky were children! They never seemed troubled with strange dreams, well, not to the same extent as older people, at least. And there was no doubt that last night’s had been one of the strangest in the realms of weird fantasies that had visited her lately.

She grunted as she arched her back a little and felt the joints click back into place. She’d been thinking about her mate while she’d tended her loom. She’d heard from several people that he’d returned to the holding, but for all she knew for sure he might as well have been in the Tahari Her eyes clamped together. No! That was not going to happen. She’d done enough of it recently. She found the blanket she sought and wrapped it round the boy. She needed to think about this.

As she lifted him, her eyes lit on the kaissa piece, the Red Axe, that was draped on the boy’s cradle. Her fingers traced its curves and she felt moisture threaten her eyes again. Her hand closed and withdrew from the wooden piece as she took the boy in her arms and left the room, then the Hall. The brighter light hit her eyes and she stood a few ihn to let them adjust before she walked down the path in the crisp air.

There had been such a path in her dream. She had followed it for some time before the tarsk boar had appeared. It had run out of some bushes and stopped, dead still, a little way ahead of her on the path. She, too, had stood still upon seeing it, knowing how dangerous they could be. The beast’s tiny eyes had fixed on her and she’d started to back away slowly. It had matched her, step for step, until, that is, she’d come up against the trunk of a huge tree. Then it had pawed the ground and lowered its head and set off at full tilt in her direction. She’d found herself unable to move a muscle as the thunder of its hooves grew ever nearer. She’d braced herself and closed her eyes, a prayer to Freya leaving her lips. There had been a cloud of dust as the boar reached her.

She’d opened her eyes again and found it at her feet, staring up at her. Then its mouth had gaped and a grunting squeal had come out that she could have sworn was laughter if it she’d not seen the animal it came from with her own eyes. The beast rubbed its head against her leg in a friendly fashion. Surprised, she’d reached a tentative hand towards it and scratched between its ears. After that, it had accompanied her, trotting along at her side as she’d continued on her way.

Some time later, she’d seen the beast that her mate had told her of, the one that had often invaded her dreams before and now seemed to protect her. It lowered its head, its front paws planted slightly apart and its ears flat on its head, and growled soft and low. At her side, the boar, likewise had stopped and now shook itself, watching the other. Then they’d charged, as if simultaneously released from catapults, heading towards each other at top speed. She’d screamed and cried out, calling on both Freya and Tootega to protect her and not let the beasts harm each other. She didn’t want to see either hurt.

They’d sprung from the ground at the same time, meeting in the air in a flurry of snarls and squeals, and rolled over, entangled with each other, several times. She’d run to them, her heart beating fast, hoping that both were still unharmed and that she could somehow come between them. She’d slid to a halt in disbelief, for the pair sat licking each other joyously as if old friends reunited after a long time apart. She’d dropped to her knees and they’d walked to her, lying, one on either side, each resting their head on a knee.

That’s when she’d woken up and wanted to talk to her man but, of course, that wasn’t possible. She wondered if she’d ever see him again? When she thought about it, she’d not had a good track record with men. They seemed to disappear on her. First her father and brothers, then Konrad, the Jarl’s Axe, who had been about to claim her, then her good friend, Ragnar, swiftly followed by her first mate,Rauðøx, and now Gab. Was it her? Had the gods cursed her for something? Granted, the boy’s blood father had shown up again recently, but there had still been grief and upheaval. And just as she’d thought everything was settled, she seemed to be alone again.

She looked about her. She’d arrived at the small jetty by the fisherman’s hut, not quite sure how or why. She looked down at her boy, who blinked back at her with the dark grey eyes she knew so well. She stepped into the small boat and sat down, cradling the boy close to her. “In spite of what your father might think,” she said softly to the boy, “ Rauðøx was a good man. He was quiet, one who kept to himself, and he was skilled in his craft. I’d thought of him as a brother until that message arrived from Konrad and he saw how frightened I was.” She paused and kissed the boy’s head. “One day, parsit, I’ll tell you more about him. But not now. Now there are other worries.”

She looked out across the water and watched the waves break against the rocks, throwing spumes of spray into the air. “I wish he’d come home, parsit. I feel so lost.” The boy gurgled and reached out a chubby hand, grasping a stray lock of her hair and tugging it. Inside her, the new life kicked. “And what would you have me do?” she asked them both. “I can’t go and look for him, can I? But I don’t ‘belong’ here without him.”

Suddenly weary, she lay down in the bottom of the boat and pulled her robe around her son. She put him to her breast and, as he suckled, fell into a deep sleep . . .

Today’s Lunch

 

Today’s Lunch

Tabuk steaks with cloves of garlic embedded into the meat, and some without

Vegetable melody of mushrooms, peppers, onions and suls

Bread

 

The growling of her stomach awoke the raven-haired woman and easing from her bed, Keezheekoni dressed and stepped free of the alcove. Finding the hall to be rather quiet this late morning, she headed down into the kitchen to start preparing lunch for the hall, for surely that scent alone would drive the people from their beds. With an idea of what she wanted to make already in mind, she went to fetch the large tabuk that had been brought in by Bara only a few short days ago. From this, she would begin to cut down the animal into large steak-like portions, stacking them to the side. Once the animal was freed of its meat, the rest she would place into an empty barrel to be dealt with later, for none of this beautiful beast would go to waste.

Washing her hands, she looked about the various spices and herbs that rested within the kitchen and spotting some garlic. She plucked that from the shelf and set to placing bits of garlic within the thick meat, though she left some without in case there was someone who did not like garlic. Once settled, the steaks were placed onto the cooking grill, whence the meat sizzled and the delicious aromas lofted into the air. While that cooked, she went and collected some mushrooms, peppers, suls and onions to be chopped and cooked together in a delicious medley.

Finding the bread she had made, she sliced it up and places it neatly on a platter before returning to the steaks and flipping them, even going to give the vegetables a quick stir. She paused, glancing around at what she had done so far and smiled at her work, for today bellies would not go hungry.

Opening a Trade Route

~   Finding his place in his new home now, the Holding’s Weaponsmith sets out to forge other things than iron . . .   ~

Vil Ahren stepped off the serpent onto dry land and stretched his huge frame. He’d sailed days and nights from the North with his cargo of iron. Now, he made his way from the dock up to the heavy gate and rang the bell. He waited patiently, idly wandering back and forth, until he heard a shout from above. “Tal, sir. Can I help you with anything today?”

Mjolnir Valr’s weaponsmith turned at the greeting. “Heilsa, warrior,” he replied in his low-toned, North-accented voice, observing the man who’d saluted him. “If ye can bring mae inside the Village ye would be helpful.”

The man on the lookout nodded politely at him and asked, “Aye? You be here on official business?” He motioned for the gates to be opened and descended from the lookout. “Come, good man, I will let you in to see our Regent. Perhaps she might be of help to you.” He waited for Vil to remove his weapons and have them put in the secure locker, then motioned for him to follow and led him over the bridge.

The Regent of Teletus looked up, the sound of footfalls solid upon the ground. Turning, she saw Bear Stoneshield there bringing a visitor. With a look of surprise, she exclaimed, “Rarius!” as she always called Vil. “Tal and good morrow, Sirs,” she recovered quickly and smiled at Bear. “I trust the morning sees you both well?”

Bear Stoneshield nodded at the woman with a smile on his face as they finally reached her. He spoke up and greeted both her and her kajira. “Tal Flame. Tal girl. Flame, this man wanted entry to the city. He may have some important business with you today, is what I think.” His smile continued as he added, “Aye, the morning is doing me well.”

Vil had nodded at the warrior with the tattooed face. The man’s ears dangled with ornaments and he was heavily armed. He followed him into the Village and after a lengthy walk they neared the teahouse. There, he saw the red-haired woman and a grin painted his face “Ho there, mae mighty Regent.” He stood before her, flanked by the warrior, ignoring the silkie. He smiled a little as the warrior called her ‘Flame’, which she was. “Odin has blessed mae, aye. Ae see ye are well, mae Regent.” He looked carefully at her, observing her well after not seeing her for so long. She looked good it seemed. He struggled a little with the heavy iron on his back that he’d brought for her.

The kajira had been leaning over, looking into the depths of the kettle, the water by now releasing small steamy vapours into the air. She knew it would be warmed in no time. Moving quickly to a few well placed sacks on the other side of the room, she removed a few handfuls of grain, resting them in to the bottom of the medium-sized bowls. Next, she retrieved a few varieties of fruits, cutting them in half, then cutting those halves into smaller pieces. Placing the fruits into one of the small bowls, she lifted the kettle from the hearth, gently ladling the warmed water into each bowl containing the grains. Cleaning and inspecting two small spoons she placed them into each bowl, gently stirring the contents together as the grain softened from the warmth of the liquid. Her final step was to fill the last small bowl with honey for the Mistress. As each order fell into place and she finished finally, she raised the serving tray to make her way back to her Mistress’s side. Returning through the door, she raised her eyes and spotted the two males. “Greetings Masters,” she said as she eased the serving tray in front of Flame, “Your meal, Mistress.” She spoke softly before kneeling beside her, her legs held together in respect.

The Regent gave a nod of approval, gladdened that Bear’s day was off to a good start. Turning towards alexandria as she approached, she eyed the tray and its contents. “Would you good sirs care to join me for a morning repast?” A slip of her hand motioned to the table, her eyes went to Vil as he spoke, rather oddly. “You have been too long amongst the giants of the North,” she teased him. “It is good to see you my friend.” She noted the shift he made. ‘What is it you have there that burdens you so?”

Bear Stoneshield smiled at Flame as he heard her kind gesture. He thought, however, that he should go and train his newly caught tarn, so he spoke up and said, “Thank you Flame, but I will pass on the morning repast. I must finish training my new caught tarn, for it is still quite wild. If you need me, I shall be around the village, as usual. Safe paths to you all.” He left and quickly ran down to the village to the open area of the training ground, where he called forth his tarn.

The Regent nodded curtly. “Aye, Sir. Be well and safe, and mind the beak!” She took up a spoon. The bowl of fruit and the honey were then poured atop the porridge. “Ah, I forgot the cinnamon. Be a good kajira and run over to the inn. Upon the shelf is a square tin with ground cinnamon in it.” She nodded animatedly, with a smile at alexandria.

The slave immediately rose to her feet. “Yes Mistress,” she said as she slid off towards the inn. Inside she looked for the shelf containing the small square tin Flame had spoken of. As she found it she smiled wide, slipping it from its holding spot then making her way back to Flame’s side. Holding the tin in her hands she raised it almost to her eye level offering it to her. “Your cinnamon Mistress.”

Vil chuckled at her words about his northern accent. He’d arrived at young age here in her Village. One day he might tell her all; that in fact he had been born in the North and travelled here by chance. It was only the way of the Gods of Old that had guided him here. For now, he simply nodded at her. He removed the giant blacksmith backpack, the sign of his chosen trade in his home village, loaded fully with iron that he had mined with his own hands. He set it on the ground “Ae have come ere with my serpent and travelled a long time to trade with ye, mae dear Regent’ he said. He’d nodded to the friendly warrior as he’d left, wishing him “Odin give ye beast the might of his blow to carry ye high in the wind.” He, too, had once owned a tarn and now wondered what had happened to it. He stepped towards the cushion and knelt in front of the Regent, next to the kajira. The slave didn’t wear silks and her breasts were bare. It was odd to see a girl so clothed here in the South, in pants, it seemed,

The Regent watched him, heard the heavy thud from the sack and looked quizzically at him. Taking the tin from the girl’s hands, she said, “Thank you” and turned her eyes back upon Vil. “See to his needs, alexandria.” Ever the courteous hostess, whether it was herself that served or the slaves offering. “Tell me what it is, then, that brings you here, aside from that ship of yours.”

alexandria said, “Yes Mistress,” and turned slightly on her knees to look at the Jarl. “Jarl, may I serve you?” Her tone was scratchy. Her eyes widened slightly. He seemed to have somewhat intimidated her, more than most were able to. She sat in silence awaiting his answer.

The burly Smith looked for a short moment at the girl’s body and noticed now, on her slim figure, writings and symbols, and that her lips were pierced, too. It was indeed odd to see, but she would probably have her own story to tell and it was none of his concern. He listened to the Regent and gave her a smile “To see ye, mae Regent, and to set up with you a trade route to the North, to mae Village.” He spoke now with more sobriety, his concern for business clear on his face. He would never forget her and what she still meant to him, but he had found his home now. He knew, though, that she was glad to see him, too, and continued, “We could use some goods, in general, from the South ere, because mae Village is all the way up in north of the Hrimgar Mountains on the border of the icy plains of the Red Hunters.” It had been a long journey for him to see her and he was glad he’d come, determining next time to bring his mate with him. Her excellent leather goods would be more to offer in trade. “Do ye have mead?” he inquired of the Regent, smiling.

The Regent laughed. “Of course we have mead. And we make some fine mead to rival even that of the brew masters of the north!” she boasted proudly. “What are the goods you seek? Perhaps if they are not in the stores of the island, they might be in my private trading company’s holdings.” Taking a spoonful of the porridge, she slipped the spoon gently between her lips and mumbled about the lack of cinnamon. She laughed at herself and quickly took up the tin, the lid flicked off with her thumbs to rattle on the table top. “I would be interested to know if you are able to acquire any goods from the Red Hunters themselves. I’m curious to know what they have.” In truth she’d never met a Red Hunter, and to do so piqued her interest.

Vil arched his eyebrows high at her words that her mead was better than that at home. There was one man he knew of who would appreciate the chance to taste the difference, so that was an obvious request he would make to trade for starters “Well, ae believe ye, mae dear Regent. Mae serpent is in ye harbour and I’ll want to take some mead with yer Southern spices.” He rubbed softly at his chin with three fingers, thinking. What else would there be? “Black wine, too’.” He was filling up his list and then stopped, thinking. “Do ye have other Southern goods that we do not have in the North and ae might have forgotten about?” He looked at her as he unclipped the drinking horn of his forefathers from his belt and laid it on the table in front of him. Then he looked at the grey-eyed girl next to him and commanded her swiftly, “Bring mae mead and some sa-tarna bread, girl, and be careful with that horn.” He looked around from where he sat down into the Village. Not much had changed here, he noticed. He gave her his attention again, answering her question quickly. “Ae am a Torvaldslander,” he started, “and our kin live mixed with the Red Hunters, and in fact mae leader is one.” He spoke with pride clear in his eyes. “If ye tell mae what ye need of them, ae will bring yer goods, and trade for more in future. Ae will see what ae can bring ye next time besides iron ore.” Then he awaited both her response and the return of the thin girl.

Zaphara Cazalet walked over to the Teahouse, where she found her sister and an old friend. “Tal, Sis and Sir,” she smiled.

The Regent listened to him, the twang he possessed making him difficult to understand at times. She paused in thought and word to motion alexandria off with a hand, sending her over to the Inn for the mead and then to Zaphara as she arrived. “Morning. Care to join us?” She took another mouthful of porridge, few stolen between conversation. “I know little of them, Sir. What can you tell me of their goods? What might we find appealing here?” Then to the rest of his query, she thought long on the matter. “Do you have any of the chocolate from Anango? We have that, as well I have a goodly supply of the black wine beans from the Soaring Herlit lands.” Still other wheels cranked off in her mind, a mental checklist. “You’d not need any of the silk from Bazi, but what of the spices of the Tahari?”

Zaphara stood there listening for a moment before turning to get a cushion to sit on, then headed to the kitchen to get a mead from her stock. Taking a tankard for herself, she made sure it was clean then poured in the mead and added some cinnamon. She returned to the table and sat down.

The Torvaldslander turned his head as he heard soft steps nearby in the grass and looked upon a woman he hadn’t seen for long time. “Heilsa, Lady,” he smiled to her. ‘Excuse mae, but ae have forgotten ye name, Lady,” and he blushed endearingly. Then he turned his head once more towards the Regent and heard her speaking and nods with her deliciously long list and shrugged. There was so much he’d not even heard of! “Well, to be honest, ae do not know either what they could have, but will ask that when ae return and bring it to ye so ye can see for yourself, but” he continued, ‘chocolate from Anango, black wine beans from the Soaring Herlit lands, silk from Bazi and the spices of the Tahari would be excellent.” and smiled at her “Can ye send ye slaves to mae serpent with the goods so that ae can leave as soon as possible?” He continued waiting for the girl to return so he might eat and drink quickly. Each shift of his frame showed his impatience.

Zaphara smiled across the table at him. “Not to worry, Sir. I am rather bad at remembering names myself.” She paused for a moment. “I am Zaphara.” Her introduction complete, she took a drink of her mead and relaxed.

Vil smiled at her “Well met, Lady Zaphara ,and excuse mae my rudeness ye being mae friend of old.’ He was still wondering why it was taking the girl so long to bring him mead and bread.

alexandria walked swiftly into the kitchen. Her eyes roamed the breads until they landed upon the yellow textured Sa-tarna the Jarl had requested. Lifting a single loaf from the stand, she moved towards him with horn and bread in hand. She knelt down at the Jarl’s side. The hand holding the bread slipped on to the counter before him, placing it before within his range of vision before raising the horn of warmed mead above her head. She slinked down a little further on her knees to attain the awkward pose, releasing some tension and sitting a tad more comfortably. Speaking softly, she said, “Jarl, may this mead and bread satisfy you,” her tone once more slightly nervous as she waited for him to retrieve his drink and food.

The weaponsmith took his horn from her, not touching her hands, drinking with huge gulps as he greedily filled his mouth with bread, too. With all soon finished, he clipped his horn back on his belt and stood up, picked up his now empty backpack and turned to them. “Odin keep your arm true, Freya bring the sweetness of her heart, as the Hall of Valhalla brings the feasts to the fallen and Helmdale watches the gates at Birfrost.’ He turned in the direction of his serpent.

As he repeated her words, The Regent quickly set to jotting down the order with a stylus. She then motioned a nearby slave to approach. “Take this to the docks and have the men load up the serpent there.” Turning back to Vil, she added, “The black wine does not come cheap. It is twenty gold a barrel. How many barrels did you wish for?” The price of his request would be high, but her hands were tied on the costs of some things. “They will load the ship while you wait.”

Vil indicated acceptance to the Regent. “Two barrels of black wine ae will take and pay that when ae return, if that is acceptable to ye, mae Regent?” He stood, eager to set sail.

She nodded. “Aye, sir, tell them at the docks.” She waved him off, knowing he was in a hurry.

The kajira: slowly retracted her hands once the horn had left them. Placing her palms on her upper thighs, she looked around at the small group of free. She slipped backwards on her knees as the Jarl rose to his feet. Her eyes roamed the table, stopping at the second bowl of porridge the Mistress had offered her to eat. Surely by now it would be cold and thick in touch. Grumbles rolled deep within her belly as she sat and waited to speak, to ask the second Mistress if she would like to be served as well.

“I wish you blessed paths, Sir,” Zaphara bade him, “and hope to see you again.”

Vilhjalmur Ahren turned in silence and walked to the docks to oversee the slaves putting his goods in his serpent, then sailed away to his home.

 

 

Meeting Vil’s New Mate

“Ho, Vil, Fri called up as she neared the gate. “Have I left a basket up there? I think I did – one I brought to Gab and Spec a few days back. Is it all right to come and get it?”

Vil Ahren stood there high in the soft, cold wind that blew his long black hair, enjoying the view. He was born in the North and liked it so much, the nature, the culture, the people that he had met here in this new Village with the legendary Hall. He turned his frame as he heard a “Ho, Vil” blown in the wind and raised his arm up, palm inward, greeting the healer. “Ho there, too, Lady . . . euhm . . . Fri. Aye, it is up there, let me get it for ye.” He passed quickly by her, taking a glance at the boy in her arms, smiling.

Frisjæl smiled and waited as he climbed to the higher section of the tower, returning ehn later with the basket, only a few remnants remaining in it now. “Can I fetch you anything back?” she asks. “You must be hungry.”

“Odin with yeh my warrior.” Viajn said firmly, coming up into the gate-tower, smiling and adding to Fri, “and Odin with you Odin’s daughter.” She held a plate in her hand with sa-tarna bread, bosk meat and some herbs.

The Weapon Mater turned back with the basket in hand and smiled at Fri. “Ae guess Gab and Spec were hungry,” he chuckled Of course, like him, the men of the Valr were always hungry and thirsty and he felt his own stomach growling, because he’d had nothing today to eat or drink. He saw his woman coming up the Wall too and greeted her “Ho there, mae mate.” He signalled her with his eyes, looking into hers, that he was glad to see her. “How is ye son?” he then asked Fri.

The healer turned and smiled at the woman who’d appeared with food for Vil. “It seems you’re a popular man, Vil,” she chuckled. Then she looked at the woman more closely. “Do I know you?” she asked, thinking the woman familiar, and to Vil’s question replied, “Aye, he’s growing strong. Missing his nakkivik though. We’ll both be glad when he’s safe home.” She turned her attention again to the woman, frowning

Vil’s mate nodded at him and made a face, feeling a bit out of place with the plate in her hands. She blushed and she promised herself to take even more care of her man in future, then grinned cheekily as her hand broke a piece off the sa-tarna, shoving it into her mouth. “I thought it would be nice if we had a meal together,” she said, attempting to alleviate the embarrassing situation. She looked at the woman, knowing her to be the healer, unsure how to reply at the question. She pointed to the baby. “He will be a strong warrior for sure. “He already has the look of one.” She thought to lead the conversation in another direction.

“Aye, that he will. He’s the HighJarl’s son; at least, when Gab returns that title will revert to him and Thorbjørn will take that position again.” She narrows her eyes and peers at the woman.. “It’s your hair I remember. We don’t have many like that here.” She thinks a moment. “Ah, the other day. You were in my rooms with Vil, were you not?”

Vil observed the two women talking to each other for the first time, it seemed. He didn’t introduce them to each other, he thought it was a good moment for them and he didn’t want to be mixed in women’s talk. He was a quiet man when he was among others, female or male. He scanned the area. He was not familiar with the words Fri used at times, but he did his best to understand. She seemed a happy woman, and more so with her son and one in her belly. Those private things were also not of his concern and he kept his remarks general sayinf, “By Odin, he will be back soon and safe. Too, dear Fri.” He gave her a nod. She was a strong woman, but Vil would also protect her when the Village was under attack. He’d sworn that and would do that too. He turned his head to his mate as Fri asked her who she actually was, and quietly followed further the conversation between the women.

Vil’s woman puffed out her cheeks looking at her mate, this time with a smile and let him see she was glad too to see him. She was rarely speechless but this was a situation she’d never been in before. A bit helpless, she studied his green eyes, seeking the right answer. Her hand raised to the hair Fri spoke of. After a while of staring at Vil, she realises that he’d not say much. She turned her attention back to Fri as she spoke. “Indeed, I was with Vil in your healer enclave, she replied honestly. She wasn’t the kind of woman who’d lie., even about things clearly as awkward as this. “You, as a healer, will remember most of the people seeking your help.” She offered a smile, ignoring that Fri was frowning at her.

Fri turns to Vil, a brow raised quizzically. “This woman was a bond, was she not? You freed her?” It was nothing to her either way what Vil chose to do with his women, but she liked order, and was happier when things were in their rightful places. All she asked was that it be made clear what those places were.

The Valr Smith was aware that this was indeed a strange situation and chuckled to himself. “First this woman -‘ pointing to his mate “- was a bond that thought she was a free while ae brought her to ye and a day later became a free one and ae took her as mae woman.” That he said to Fri as he looked at his mate, “This woman ere is the woman of the HighJarl Gab,” making all clear and was a bit irritated that he had to explain everything. He was a quiet man and didn’t want to get mixed in woman’s talk. This time he had no choice and respected both women.

The woman waited to see how the healer would react. She knew who Fri was because the day she’d gone to be examined by her they’d talked a lot, and she’d told her who she was. She walked over to her mate, standing at his side and making clear she knew her place and was proud to stand beside him. Fri smiled to herself, knowing well that Vil preferred his own company, and admired him for making the effort. Personally, she liked the man, and she knew her mate did, too. “I welcome you, now, as a free woman of my man’s hall, Vil’s mate. Forgive me, but after only one meeting and with the lack of sleep my young one causes lately, I have trouble remembering names until a second or third time of meeting. Suffice it to say, I look forward to seeing more of you about here, and hope your life with us will be happy and full of all you want.”

Vil gave the HighJarl’s woman a nod and a little smile. Since he’d arrived here all of them took good care of him . . . although in his stubbornness and pride he would never say such weak things. In his view, it was not done for a Jarl to be emotional. He draped an arm around the shoulders of his woman and took a step closer to Fri’s son, laying in her arms. “Odin blessed ye with a healthy boy. He looks strong,” he said, knowing that there was a special story behind the white blanketed boy and his parents. “Can ae touch him?” he asked her.

Vil’s woman sighed with relief and smiled at Fri. “Thank you, first woman of Mjolnir Valr. I will do meh best to play meh part in this holding, now my kin, too.” She looked at Vil. “The gods guided us and brought as love,” she said, blushing. You know of meh kin and who I am. I wonder, do we have a trader here?” she asked. “I can work here as trader, or leather-worker. I did both in my father’s hall. This was her craft, as all women here would produce or earn their keep in their own way. She fell silent as she watched her mate with the little warrior in Fri’s arms and a warm feeling grew in her heart.

“Aye, Vil, he has no teeth yet, so won’t bite you,” Fri joked and held the boy out towards him. “He’s a friendly lad. No doubt in a little while he’ll be wanting to run after his father all day, and from what Na tells me he’ll be allowed to do that and more. It seems my man and his kind have a soft spot for little ones.” She smiled at Vil’s woman. “I expect you’ll be having your own, soon.”

The quiet man smiled as he heard his mate’s offer of support to the holding. He wanted everyone to work for the good of the holding. His own desire was to search for the mines spoken of in legend. He released the shoulders of his woman as he softly lay his thick finger on the forehead of the child and smiled at the healer’s joke. He felt the soft skin of the child, a softness like silk, and smelled him, too, when bending towards him a little. He looked up at the beautiful face and green eyes of Fri. “So, this is what babies smell and feel like.” He returned to his original position and kept a respectful distance from the child. ”He is also beautiful.” he said. Then looked to his heart and soul next to him, being curious how she would answer Fri’s question.

Vil’s woman watched quietly, then spoke. “Sometimes, when my father was unable to keep me apart from the other women of our holding, I could see how those strong free women worked in the fields with the blessings of Freya on their backs – newborns, older children -” she stopped, and lowered her gaze, a little uncomfortable a revealing parts of her past, but seeing this proud and strong warrior almost cuddling the baby was for her a magical thing. She lifted her grey orbs to Fri’s greens and said firmly, “I hope Freya will bless meh and give meh the honour to give mea mates seed birth. I have to bring a sacrifice to the altar at the rune mountain and spend at least one night there, being tested by the gods and to gain their blessing for our mating.” This was he belief and practice. “It is mae duty to make sure that the house of Ahren will endure.”

Yngvarr’s woman smiled at her, a small sigh escaping her lips. “This place is not like others. In other holdings, you would find circles and altars. Not here. There are stones along the path marked with runes, but the whole mountain is our altar, all of it dedicated to Odin. You’ll find no fat rune priests here either, making themselves soft off the people they’re meant to serve. Here you will find Tootega alongside Odin, two cultures living together in peace. Offer your prayers to what gods you will, and where you feel comfortable. We will have no arguments here as there sometimes are in other places.”

Vil Ahren swallowed and looked at his woman and caressed the nearer side of her face with affection, knowing a little of her past and feeling her hate. He would care for her, as the kin she was now part off, to have a brighter future. “Ae will be at ye side, mae woman as ye go spending the night out there . . . ae and all of us ere have our duties to give the best we can be. Ae know ye will do what ye tell mae . . . us.” He gave her a wink. He heard Fri responding and followed her thoughts about the mountain being an altar and allowing the worhip of not just our gods but those of others, too. He agreed with both of them as all the good of one has to come from the heart to do what is right, even giving their lives.

His woman felt a bit like a bosk cow between larts. “Ohhhh,” she formed with her lips, the vocalised sound following a few ihn later. “In that case I will find mae place to do what I have to do for mae beliefs, Fri,” she chuckled. “Yaeh shall know my kin were like I told you and I learned their ways, but it is good to know that you will tolerate how I am and in what I believe.” She leaned forward and caressed the soft head of the baby with two fingers, smiling excitedly. Like a child with big grey eyes, she sought Vil’s glance. Fri and he could see the wonder in her eyes as she smiled brightly at the words of her mate. “I know yea will be at meh side and yeh will protect meh, but there are things women have to transact with Freya on their own, my warrior. But you will be with me, in meh heart,” she whispered, a bit self-consiously because of Fri’s presence. She cleared her throat and leaned her head on his shoulder.

The healer looked about her, taking a deep breath and inhaling the smells of grass, plants, cooking from the hall; above all she smells the body of her son, clear and clean, always able to pick it out. “This is a special place. We lie between two lives here, those of Torvaldsland and the Basin. Some would be pulled in opposite directions, but we are better than that. With families of both sides joined, there is great peace here, and we let each live in their own way, worship in their own way. You, too ,would be allowed this.”

[2012-08-27 12:26:29] Vilhjalmur Ahren frowned slightly. “Be sure that ae, a Jarl, have also mae business with Freya,” was his cold reaction. Of course she didn’t know what he meant, but love … he hadn’t known at all in his young life. He was furious at times at the gods of old for shaping his life as they had. Of course, they had their reasons and had brought him here where, finally, his life could start. Things had to be to accepted, but it wouldn’t hold him back to curse them once in a while.. He looked at Fri as she spoke of the mixing of cultures in the life of the holding. He could only nod – this was his home.

The woman grumbled softly. “I didn’t tell ya you don’t have business with Freya. I only told yah that some things are to do without men.” She spoke firmly and this time there was brevity with her words. She would do it at her own way, as all women of her family had. As her eyes, met his he could certainly read their expression; she wasn’t that good at hiding her feelings.

Fri smiled. “Of course, I’d only take this so far. I’m not sure I could live for long, as was proved by the fact I came home, with many of the simpering women I found in the south, or their strange men. No, give me the folk of the North any day. They are more honest and true than any I met on my travels to study. ” She smiles again at the Vil’s mate. “A leather-worker, you say? I’ll have to come and look at what you make. Will you have goods on display in the Smithy?”

Vil shook his head as he heard her reply. “Women!” He would never understand their behaviour and their feelings, but understood it was something she wanted to do on her own, as her kin had before her. Ah well, he would, of course, respect that, but there was some darkness in her eyes and that meant he should be aware of something welling inside her. She would see the same thing in him.

“We talked about combining our work, Fri, and it will be a honour to let you see my goods . . .if . . . if I have any. I will start soon. Even I need mining and, well, I am a very good trader, too, so it should work well.” She smiled, nervously, wondering at his dark eyes and making note of it. Then she grinned, feeling his strength. “I will let you know if I have things to let you see, Fri,” she added.

“That pleases me. I’d love to see what you make. I always have great admiration for all who use their hands to craft goods. It’s so clever and such a useful thing.”

Vil simply nodded as he was proud of his work, but he was not that kind of man to push himself forward. He was one that stood back and did what he had to do. He feltl his belly rumbling. His woman blushed, still with the plate in her hand. She looked at the food on it, picking up some meat and quickly shoving it into her mouth, chewing. There’s still quite a lot of meat on the plate. She watches the other two, with a smile on her lips.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to talk, and eat your food. It’s a pleasure to meet you in new circumstances,” she said to the woman, smiling. “I’m sure you’ll find much happiness together.” She turned with a swish of her skirt and, with Thorbjørn on one arm and the basket on the other, set off back to the hall.

A Busy, But Good, Day

~   The seamstress makes herself useful, taking her mind off her troubles . . .   ~

 

The morning had been like so many mornings before, only the sounds of crackling fire and the snores of various people about the hall, but there was at least one woman awake even before the dawn would break over the mountain’s top. Keeping as quiet as she could, she dressed and slipped down to the kitchen, making herself a cup of hot tea. There was much on her mind this morning, but there was even more important things to do within the hall, especially with the winter coming. Once she was finished with her tea, she eased out of the hall and made her way past the guards with a faint smile, letting only the faint rays of rising sun to light her way. Where to begin this morning when so many different things needed to be started? She caught sight of the distant fishing hut and, nodding to herself and her thoughts, made her way there first.

She paused at the fishing hut upon arriving and pulled her hair into a tight braid so that it would not be in her way while she worked, completely focused today on the list of tasks she had given herself to see accomplished. Within a few moments, she moved into the fishing hut and pulled out the old fishing nets, lowering herself to kneel on the jetty and spread them out, checking the knots and patching any part of the net that might have been snagged upon the rocks or just generally worn. A soft song left her lips, one that barely had words, but more of sound from her lips, a working song and once the net was fixed, she carefully made her way out to the waiting boat and piled them all into the end. The oars, she found to be in good shape and with not another moment lost, she rowed herself out into the deepest part of the river and set the oars aside. Sitting there, upon the calm waters, she released a relaxing breath and watched the sun coming up over the horizon, starting to spread its warm, golden rays over the land. Not wishing to waste valuable time, she carefully grabbed the nets and cast them out over the water, listening to the faint kersplash! before they settled deeper into the water, hoping to bring in a good catch. She would leave the nets to rest for a few ahn, returning to the jetty and placing the boat at the ready for when she’d come again to check them.

All this work felt good. It gave her mind more to concentrate on than the emptiness residing both within her heart and her belly, for by this time she should have been swollen with child. As these thoughts ran through her mind, she brought a hand up to wipe away a tear before shaking it off and heading up towards the buzzing bees. Yes, it was time to gather honey!

She made her way up the proud mountain, growing closer and closer to the sound of the buzzing bees, but knew if she was not careful she could find herself with an angry nest and much pain should they catch her. Her song ceased and, looking around for a thick piece of wood, she moved over to it and knelt. This was a call for smoke rather than fire and finding a branch piece that seemed to have more green than dead wood, she slipped her knife from its sheath and chipped away to reveal it before grabbing some flint, knocking it together carefully, just enough to catch the top of the wood, but not engulf it. It took a few tries of clicking and soft whispers of thanks for the wood finally to catch light. Lifting it up, she approached the nest, but not without grabbing a jar from the nearby keeper room. “Bees, I ask to have some of your honey,” she spoke while approaching the nest, waving the smoke towards it in hopes to soothe the irritated creatures. “I will not take too much and I offer thanks for your gift.” Her steps were soft, almost soundless within the moccasins as she sent more and more smoke towards the bees, making them drowsy. When she was finally sure she could gain the honey, she did so with the utmost care, easing a few of the combs within the jar she held tucked within the nook of her arm. “My thanks to you.” She stepped backwards, each movement taken with care and with precision. “Thank you,” spoken until she was clearly out of range and went to toss the branch piece into the nearby water. Placing a lid atop the jar, she held carefully to it before heading towards the hall to place the jar of honey within the kitchen.

Today would be filled with sweat and work, but it was good work for it helped clear her not only her mind, but also the weight upon her soul. She knew she was lost and wandering, but also knew when the time came for her to find her path again, it would be shown. It was good she was a patient woman. So with the nets hopefully filling with fish and the fresh honey in the kitchen, she grabbed a near by bucket and took it with her, heading out to the farm. “Bessy..bosk..” she called out to the large female, “you will gift of milk today, yes?” and snatching up the stool, she placed it carefully beside the gentle beast. She didn’t just sit down to go to work, though; rather she moved away and took hold of the pitchfork, placing some fresh, sweet hay before the beast. “There. You eat, I work.” Listening to the happy chomping, she lowered herself down to the stool and brought the bucket closer. “There there.” A soft pat to the side of the beast. “You give us gift of milk, I thank you much.” And with gentle hands began to work the milk free of the large female. When the bucket was full, she eased up and tucked the stool away. “Much thanks again.” A gentle pat on the head before she made her way up to the hall, bringing the large bucket of milk to the kitchen to be used by the bonds or herself later.

Heading back out of the Hall, she heard the clucking of the vulos and nodded to herself, turning in that direction. “Here, vulo vulo! I come to accept gift of eggs.” But the moment she eased towards the roost, the large rooster spotted her and began to claw at the ground. “No. None of that.” She pointed a finger at the rooster as if that would change his mind. “I only to take a few, and -” but slowly her eyes grew large as the rooster began to fly at her. “Oh nonononono!” Swiftly, she was running down the hill, being chased by the crazed bird. “Not good!!” Slipping down the hill, she landed and kept low. “Plan B.” She turned onto her stomach and began to crawl back up the slope, keeping very low to the ground, watching out for signs of the crazed bird. There! It was flaunting its feathers over with the ladies, typical male. Sheesh! Glancing around, she spotted the bag of feed and eased towards it, gathering a large handful and sending it flying away from the roost. The vulos, smelling dinner, zipped over to it and began to peck away at the meal while she swiftly darted in. gathered up five large eggs and slipped out again, returning to the hall and placing them within a large bowl to be used along with the milk.

Releasing a tired sigh, she paused to pour herself something to drink, a nice cool cup of water, filling her bota while she is at it. The fish still needed to be hauled in and bread to be made, but above all, this had been a very good day!

 

Things accomplished –

1 large container of Milk to be used in making cheese

5 large vulo eggs

12 fishes

4 loaves of bread

1 large jar of honey

A Love Sent By The Gods

~   Trouble of spirit, for reasons known only to himself, a warrior finds peace in a gift from his gods . . .   ~

 

Vil Ahren took silent tongue’s hand, still holding her, letting her back rest against the huge stone. He looked at her while his arm blocked her path. “Ya, I like this also – to look at my beauty.’ He stared into her eyes, lovely and mysterious grey pools.

silent tongue gazed back into his green eyes, wild and naturally mixed with the mirroring of hers, together like the old Thassa hidden in the fog. Her heart raced wildly as he blocked her path. She felt the gentle, but firm and insistent, pull of her chain, making her feel safe and sure. “It seems like you caught me.” She licked her lips, watching him, curious what would happen now.

Vil jammed his left leg between her legs to make sure she couldn’t escape. He knew her wish was to go back to her kin, to be a free woman. He wanted to let her feel that she was welcome in his house and could stay as long as she liked. He thought this while caressing her beautiful face and could only state this again with his eyes. The truth of him could be seen in his eyes, everything he was ,he is, is there to read for those who wanted to be with him, choose him above all. He’d collared and claimed her, because he’d wanted her. Freya was hurt at seeing him alone since he was a small boy, he supposed, and Odin, too, making him a strong warrior. Only a real Northern woman could make him stronger and he wanted a family so badly. “Ye are mine as long ye like to be,” were his simple, whispered words.

silent tongue moaned softly at him as she felt the firm press of his leg between hers. She pressed her body against his, greedy, young and full of the hidden wish to be a woman. She had always had to be strong and upright, her feelings hidden behind disdainful words and brusque, but respectful, behaviour. She had run away from her family because her father wanted to mate her to a berserker, but she sought love, true love, and she didn’t loved Gustaav Fringirsson. Her only way was to run away. She deserved a lesson and the collar, sadly, was one, but the panic flickering in her eyes was only because she realised, in this moment, that she could love this strong warrior with the soft heart. Her voice was clear and warm. “You don’t see me as property? You’re giving meh choice to stay at your side freely? Why? Aren’t you possessive, meh Jarl?” adding the titular address to show that she’d started to look on you as such. “Odin, help meh,” she whisperd.

He brushed a finger over her lips as she spoke and listened, not only with his ears, to her words, but also with his heart and mind. “Ae had to collar ye to set ye free and to guide ye so ae could care for ye,” he whispered, hearing the distant hoofbeats of passing tabuk. Her moan, as she pressed her body against his leg, fell softly on his ears. He didn’t have any idea why this wild white-haired beast had come to him, but there seemed to be feelings of something good happening. Neither did he know the plan of the gods. He tried hard to look for his own path, because the gods had brought naught pain his whole life . “Ye can say what ye like -‘ he pauses as he looks in her eyes “- ae say that ae started to love ye and want ye to stay always at my side, as Freya and Odin want it. For mae, ye are my property and for that ae feel that ae need neither collar nor to leash. Ae know ye feel the same.” He caressed her hair.

Her hand raised. He could see the struggle in her soul, shining through her eyes. She brushed his cheek with fingers she’d been able to free from his light grip. “I fled meh kin because I sought love, that true love between a strong Torvaldsland pairing of warrior and woman. I fear this life, .and I wish so much to know your name. How can I love you as a slave? How can I give you sons?” A tear ran down her cheek like a glittering diamond, reflecting the light of the sun. Her heart raced. “If you’re near it doesn’t matter what others did to meh. I feel safe, protected and good at your side. I can rid myself of bad feelings. If I have your love, they’ll be lost forever. I am too pride, too wild and too strong. can’t you see it?” All of her pain, her fear and her confusion broke out as she speaks, honestly, without lies. She raised her chin and her mouth opened slightly as she pressed her lips on his, greedy and full of her desires. “Please, make meh forget what has happened to meh,” she whispered into the kiss.

Vil saw her eyes flicker and moisten with emotion that could hit even the strongest of Jarls hard. Could he gave this fierce, strong and intelligent woman what she sought? What she wanted? Was he the one? He was sure that he would protect her and love her. He was who he was and while she kissed him, he was touched again in his body and soul by her soft, strong side: her womanly side. The kiss finished, he took the key of her collar from his belt, put her hair away and placed the key in the lock, unlocking it and taking her collar off. He returned her collar to his belt and looked back in her eyes. “Mae name is Vil Ahren, as ye owner ae set ye free, releasing ye from mae collar that ae had put on ye throat and take ye as mae mate to give mae children and take ye love for mae.” He said the words softly and kissed her gently on her lips, a hot feeling welling up in his body, making his eyes wet.

The woman’s eyes widened and for a few ihn she was speechless. Further tears ran down her cheeks as the tight feeling around her neck disappeared. Unable to form a coherent word, she screamed out and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him wildly. He tasted her, tasted the mix of her sweet lips and her salty tears. Her lips formed his name – ‘Vil Ahren’ – the name like a magical melody in her heart, touching her soul. She, likewise, saw tears form in his eyes and a wall broke inside her, the crash ascending loudly to the skies until it reached Asgaard and all of the gods at Yddrasil could hear it. “Freya and Odin will smile for sure,” she breathed and, pausing after another kiss, said, “Vil Ahren, you make me proud and I offer you now all I have. I will be your mate, the mother of your children, and . . .” she paused as she slid down his body onto her knees, raising her arms as she crossed her ankles and lowered her head . . . “I will be your bond in our rooms.I offer you meh heart, meh soul and meh body. In the name of the old gods, I gift you myself.” She felt happy and now she had the courage to allow herself to love him.

Vil kissed her full, pouting lips and tasted the sweet, salty mix of their combined fluids. For the first time there was somebody in his life that really cared for him, giving herself to him totally. He looked again into her shiny eyes. “Ae give ye mae life and all ae am in ye hands.” He kissed her softly as he reached for his pouch, opened it and took something from it, then closed the pouch and returned it to his belt. He reached for her left hand as he looked in her eyes “Ye know about mae ring, that off mae forefathers right. This ring belonged to mae mother as mae father claimed her as his. Now ae do the same with ye as ae will give ye a new name too as symbol of our new life ere.” He slid the golden ring onto her finger and smiled at her, his heart beating out of his chest and knowing all his forefathers looked down upon them.

She bit her lip and looked at the ring. Her cheeks flushed red and she felt strangely shy. “Vil, I don’t know what to say. You make me proud. I don’t deserve it,” she muttered and kissed you again. “I knew the gods had a plan for meh.” She smiled brightly. “I have to bring them a sacrifice for their gift to meh. I will make your house proud and I will die for you and our house. I will give you sons and I will strengthen you in battle, praying for your safety. I will work hard, as all women do, but know I am stubborn and not like the most women.” She blinked a few times and kissed the ring.

He smiled at her as she kissed the ring and they were bound together. “There is one thing ae have to do,” he said to her. He cupped his hands around his mouth, standing in the Village for all to hear. “Ho mae kin, hear mae! Ae, Vil, will take mae once slut, silent tongue, as mae woman. Come forth and speak ye tongue if one of ye want to claim her, or be gone and shut for eternity as the gods of old are mae witness.” He took his War Axe and waited for one to speak. At the end of five ehn, that seem to him as five ahn, he heard no one or saw any who would claim her. “Then, it is done.” He sheathed his Axe and drank mead served by his woman in the Hall.

Good News in theValr

~   Nana returns . . . and she’s not alone . . .   ~

Spec smiled at Fri then back to his mate. Nana Yngvarrdottir looked up at her mate amused by his push to the healer. “Fri, ims t’ink Ah s’ould see yew. Mah return from t’a Basin ‘as mah mind weighted.” She paused and looked up at Spec.. “C’eck and t’ell meh ifna be warranted.”

Frisjæl Rúnadóttir had been in deep conversation with Thorbjørn, but now turned on hearing footsteps and smiled at Nana and Spec as they came into the enclave and ended up behind her. She hugged Nana. “It’s good to see you. I was worried. Is everything all right?” She glanced towards the door. “Did Gab come back with you? Is he well?” Pleased as she was to see Nana, she was still worried about her mate’s sudden and as yet unexplained disappearance in the middle of the night. She grinned at Spec. “Got your pants fixed, I see.”

The big man raised an eyebrow. “I have.”

Nana hugged her back and was happy to be back in company she was at home in. “Ims isnt far be’ind. We both sought somet’ing, Ah found it, ims still looking.”

“But coming?” the healer asked, anxiously. “As long as nothing’s happened to him.” Giving Nana her full attention, she looked her up and down, a small frown flitting across her brow for a moment, but no comment being made until she’d heard from Nana herself on how she felt. “What can I help you with, Na? I’ll not jump to conclusions.” She grinned at Spec briefly, then set her expression to serious again. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

The small woman chewed her bottom lip as her hands laced together in front of her, flicking at her cuticles on each of her thumbs “T’a difference in plains food is strong with Torv fare…Ah t’ink mah belly can’ot adjust.” She said trying to coat it in sugar for Spec’s benefit in case her thoughts were wrong, but surely Fri would understand the woman’s code. “Yew c’eck for meh?” She asked sheepishly.

The Hold’s giant looking back and forth between them an eyebrow raised, wondering, when he took, her that he may have hurt her somehow. He started to worry and paced the floor. His mate reached out and touched his arm “Ita be fine, love. Travel and Ah are ne’er been friends.”

Frisjæl nodded, keeping her face straight. Her practised eye had already noted the slight tightness on Na’s bodice, but she’d say nothing until sure. “Upset stomach, you say? You been sick, I take it? How about the other end?. And what have you been eating that others have not, or are they affected too?”

Nana shook her head “Not’ing stays down, and t’a other end” she coughed and made an akward expression glancing to Spec for a brief moment “Gown just a little tight” she said trying to find the right words and that was the best she could come up with. “All ot’ers seem well. T’a ones Ah seen ” Spec started mumbling in the old tongue under his breath.

Fri grinned at her sister, wondering if she should tease her a little along the way. She put out a hand and pulled down one of Na’s lower eyelids. “Been feeling tired, have you? Finding things with strong smells a bit off-putting.” She let her hand drop and gently felt around one of Na’s breast with her fingertips, confirming what she’d suspected. “Tender here, I’ll wager?” She grinned at her.

The Red Hunter woman wrinkled her nose and glanced back at Spec as she nodded. “Mah travel was not in vain t’en Ah take it?” she asked looking again at Fri. “Ah left ta clear mah name for t’a sake of t’ose t’at grow.” She looked to Spec again “Was Ah right ta leave?”

“And even more right to come back. I’ll do more tests, but I think we both know, don’t we? When did you last bleed?” There was no point in trying to keep it secret longer, and if Na had wanted to, she’d not have brought her mate here with her. Stepping forward, Fri hugged her again. “I’m so happy for you, sister.”

Na hugged her back again and then grabbed for Spec’s hand. “Before we visited the fishmonger.” If that didn’t enlighten him to the situation she’d have to say it out right. “T’a Gods bless yer ‘ouse, love. T’ough t’ey will ‘ave little mercy for mah frame.”

Fri grabbed her chair and climbed on it to give Spec a hug ,too. She put her arms round his neck and kissed his cheek. “Congratulations, Spec. Is this your first?” she asked, climbing down carefully.

Spec took note of what was being said then looking at first his woman then at Fr.i His eyes widened as he stared at them both and his jaw drops on hearing the question asked. “Nay, woman, it’s not my first.”

“So, Na, do you want me to poke and prod, or will a blood test do for confirmation? I’m sure you’ve suspected as much. Mind you, I might need a bit more than ‘before we visited the fishmonger’ if we’re going to be sure of dates.” She grinned at her again. “Ooh, this is so good. Gab will be pleased for you too. Does he suspect?”

Nana shouldn’t have been stunned because she’d known before they’d left. Her own father had known and had sent for them. He would not allow this bane that followed his bloodline to continue. “Gab knows. Ita be w’y ims stayed be’ind.” She looked up to Spec and smiled “Blame Odin…” She then looked back to Fri “Well… Maybe two full ‘ands before t’en.” she tried to estimate. Her man did a fist pump while pacing where they could not see.

Fri smiled, then her expression became a little concerned. “He’s . . . he’s stayed? Is it safe?” Her mind went back to what he’d said that day on the wall. “They’ll not hurt him, will they? He will be safe.” She knew Nana should have her attention but, well, this was serious. The man she loved more than anything else could be in danger. No matter if she were angry with him just now, he was her mate and she wanted him back safe so she could give him a piece of her mind.

The small woman nodded. She wasn’t sure if Spec had told her what happened at the farm, only that Fri had a hand in bringing him back. She would have had to. “Safe is a relative term Fri, when yew dont exist. Gab loves t’ese lands, and yew, ims will always return, but t’is be between our gods and ims now.” she said flatly, knowing full well there wasn’t much more she could honestly tell her because she didn’t know herself considering the actions he’d recently taken. He had some explaining to do with her as well as their travels had been in silence.

The healer nodded and sighed. It seemed she and Tootega would be having more conversations.”I’d better weigh you,” she said, a little despondently, setting her mind back to the job in hand. “I’ll need to measure your height, too. Jump on the scales for me, would you?”

Nana moved to the scales and grinned at Spec “Yew measuring ta see if ita be possible? Ah wonder t’a same mahself” she laughed as she stepped up on the scales.

Whilst Fri took the measurements from the sliders, Spec walked through the curtain that covered the doorway of the area the healer used to do her experiments and fished out a small flask, taking a large pull from it and returning it to the hidden pouch on his belt. Coming back, he looked at Fri “It might be all the gold she is wearing?” he suggested.

Na nodded her agreement with Spec. “Ims t’ink Ah be a jewelry display.” She jingled a wrist at Fri. “Maybe ita be best ta test mah blood ta be sure.”

Frisjæl chuckled. “Aye, it could be, or it could be the baby you put in her. I’ll take a blood sample, but I think we can leave it at that for now. Unless you’re really keen for me to do an internal exam on you?” She giggled and wandered through to the other room to wash her hands, returning with a tray on which was a syringe and a vial of liquid, and a few pieces of rep cloth cut into small squares. “Take a seat on the bed, Na, and I’ll take some blood.”

Spec glanced at the scales wondering if if they’d break were he to step on them like they had that last time he’d tried some out. His mate stepped down from the scales, happy to do so seeing as they were pleased to announce her sudden weight gain “‘old mah ‘and Ah ‘ate t’is part” she said waving a hand at her mate. He walked over to the side of the cot where she’d sat and gripped her hand. He glanced at Fri, too tempted to try it and wandered over to the scales. F

The healer chuckled as she heard the scales rattle once, then twice at his sneaky attempts to weigh himself. She set the tray down on the bed next to Na and took her arm, rolling up the sleeve of her gown to just above her elbow. Picking up the vial, she removed the cap and moistened a bit of the rep cloth with which she cleaned the hollow of Na’s elbow. The dropped both back on the tray and picked up the syringe. She sneaked a look at Spec and smiled. “I know you’ve seen battle, and many horrible sights in those battles, but I’ve seen warriors like you keel over when I’ve taken blood from a loved one. Not saying you will, not saying you won’t. Only saying if you go over, you’ll stay where you are until you come round, because both of us are pregnant, and neither in any state to try and lift you.” She turned her attention back to Na, and slipped the needle’s point into her vein, aspirating as much blood as she needed before withdrawing it and giving the puncture a rub with a cloth again. “There, all done. I’ll have a look and let you know the result, but I think it’s a formality.”

Nana squeezed her eyes closed as the needle did its job, clinging that much tighter to Spec’s hand until it was pulled free of her arm “‘ow soon we know? Ah can wait,” she asked her sister slipping down from the bed to her mate’s arms, who lifted her up and tasted her lips.

Fri chuckle. “Just give me a few minutes,” she says, disappearing into her experimentation area. “Have a chat with Thorbjørn while you’re waiting.” She went through the curtain Spec had disappeared behind earlier. “And no breaking the beds,” she called over her shoulder

Nana looked towards the sleeping babe in the crib. “Look, love. Soon yew ‘ave one like t’at though Ah doubt yer offspring ever be t’at small.”

Spec chuckled. “You have no idea, my woman.”

His mate clung to his arm and looked up at him worried this babe wasn’t going to fit in her. “Fri ita be possible iie?” she called to the curtain she’d disappeared behind.

Behind the curtain, Fri had taken a small dish and dropped the contents of a nearby bottle into it. She drips a few drops of the red liquid in the syringe onto the bit of organic matter in the dish and waiteds, counting. Then she pulled a few leaves off some herbs hanging close by, and chopped them up, sliding those into the dish too. She pummelled the lot into a paste using the pestle and mortar, and watched. Grinning, she turned and went back through the curtain. Nana turned at the swish of the fur drape “Well?”

Fri smiled “Well, we knew, didn’t we, but it’s confirmed. I’m happy for you both.”

Nana grinned as wide as her lips will press “Yew be a fat’er again soon, mah love.” Spec grinned, too, lifting Nana up and kissing her deeply.

“And they’ll be of a similar age, yours and mine,” the healer continued “They can occupy each other.” She hugged Na again. “It’s SUCH good news.” She rose on tip-toe to hug Spec, who hugged her back.

Nana laughed. “Ita be possible, ims size, Ita be possible iie Fri?” She asks again, nerves already getting the better of her. She looks at Spec greeted by his kiss, that had her light on her feet again which made her hang onto him.

“Aye, Na,, it will. You’ve been a healer. You know how a body adapts to what it needs to do. Mind you, we might have to push you about in a handcart near the end.” She chuckled and nudged Nana in the ribs gently. “I’m joking. You’ll be fine. “Now we just need Gab back,” she added, and sighed. “I hope he gets here soon.”

Spec continued to hold his woman in his arms as he turned with a smile to take her back to their home. “I am sure he will be fine, Fri.”

Nana nodded. As Fri had said, she’d been a healer, but it was her body that was required to adapt. “Ims be soon in t’ese ‘alls again. SO much growth in t’a lands, ims ne’er miss t’is” Na smiled and hoped her words were true. “Mah travels ‘ave worn meh ta a nub, but mah mind is resting now with yer results. Its be put in stone for mah love now.”

“Go and get some rest, Na, and if you hear anything from Gab, will you let me know? I’ll worry until I see him. You know how it is.”

The diminutive woman nodded her agreement. “Ah do. Ah be ims mate Ah understand worry. Freya guide yew sister.”

Spec smiled. “Good night, Fri.”

“Odin bless you both,” the healer called after them, and turned back to her son.

The Girl on the Dock

~   . . . and continues . . .   ~

 

Spec waved a hand once more and pointed to the holding. “Welcome to Mjolnir Valr.” The girl stared curiously, wiggling with anticipation. He smiled and reached out to her, lifting her chin. “Once you pass through these gates your fate is sealed girl.”

She looked up (and up and up) at him and smiled. “I understand, Jarl.” Only a small tremble in her voice showed her nerves . . . or was it, perhaps, excitement?

The huge man stopped at the edge of the circle and looked at her. “Do you know what this is?” The woman backed up a few steps and took a running start to a leap that landed her in its centre, giggling. He watched her walk into the circle with out even being asked and a smile came to his lips. “Well done. Now strip. You can leave your leggings.”

The woman hummed softly as she wiggled out of her clothes, momentarily blinded by her hair. Goosebumps rose on her flesh as the air touched her skin, her hair stirring in the slight breeze. “Thank you, Jarl.”

He smiled at her and moved over to the anvil, reaching into his pouch to take out a rusted collar. “Come here. Girl.” He picked up a rivet and tossed it into the forge.”Bare your neck, girl.” He grasped the collar. She lifted her chin and moved her hair aside, leaning back a little so her neck is accessible from his height without trouble .He placed the collar around her neck then positioned her head upon the anvil, moving the opening where the rivet is placed. “Now don’t move. If you do, and I miss my mark, this hammer will crush your skull, Do you understand?” The girl shivered as her skin touched the cold anvil but she nodded and remained very still, her breath slowing to avoid unfortunate movements. Spec drew on his heavy leather gloves and picked up the hammer. Grabbing the tongs, as he placed the rivet, now white hot, in the notch and took aim. He brought the heavy hammer down on the rive,t showering both of them with sparks as the hammering welded the iron, two parts becoming one. He reached over and snatched a bucket of cold water, dousing her and the collar to make it cool quickly.

[18:06] Ashlyn (babyashlynrose) closes her eyes as the hammer comes down but does not move until she squeels and flinches as the cool water hits her, her petite frame shaking as she shivers, not yet used to the cooler climate once more.

He smiled at her. “Come, girl.” He led her along the path from the Smithy and through the massive ornate doors, then stopped to let her take in the hall. ”Welcome to the hall of legend.” The newly-collared bond bounced slightly, her hands rubbing her nipples to restore feeling in them, and looked around curiously. He watched her, pleased. “Come. I will show you where the bonds sleep.” He walked ahead of her along torch-lit corridors to the bonds’ room where he instructed her to collect a slave packet. “Here, you will learn, and you had better learn, as your very life depends on that.”

She nodded quickly. “Aye, Jarl, girl will try her best.”

“In here is where you sleep,” he told her, at which she smiled, seeing it more comfy than a kennel, cleaner too. He returned her smile. “The North, girl, is a hard, harsh place. You will work always. I don’t ever want to see you laying about like them silkies in the South.”

The bond made a face. “I’m not a damn silkie. Girl will work hard.”

His hand rested on her shoulder. He dropped to one knee to look her in the eyes. “I am sure you will: if not, I will teach you to fly from the highest cliff.”

She considers that for a few ihn. Her eyes grow wide and she lets out a soft “meep” before laughing, “I’ve always wondered what it’s like to fly, but I ain’t wanting to find out any time soon!”

Spec saw she understood. “Even the Shield of this Hold thought he was above the laws and he, too, learned to fly . . . well. more like falling with a spattering of brains and blood on the rocks below, . . .” at which the bond made grimaced.

Another Beast

~   Spec continues hunting . . .   ~

Spec looked at the girl before him. He placed his foot in her back and kicked her out of the way. His eyes grew wider as the girl turned to dust and blew away. “By Odin’s balls!” he exclaimed, exasperated, “Where is a good thick bond when you need one?”

The woman’s eyes flickered towards the Jarl who had happened to kick the girl from her perch and seeing it, she couldn’t help but laugh. “I think you kicked too hard. You turned her to dust!.”

He turned to look at her. “Aye. There was not enough meat on that one.”

She nodded, seeming to agree with him and her blue eyes wandered over each soul in the room, seeming to drink up the solemn atmosphere. She sighed, knowing too well why they felt like that.

The woman sidled up and crouched behind the huge chair in which the Jarl sat. She peered round it, her fingers wrapping around the edge as she looked at him, her eyes curious and sparkling with mischief. She leaned over and poked him gently. He reached out, grasping the woman’s hand. “What do you seek?” .

She squealed and flashed a nasty look his way, feeling his strength as he gripped her tightly. She tried to calm her voice, though it quivered lightly. “I seek nothing but to make sure you’re well . . . maybe . . .” She tilted her head, blowing strands of her dark hair that strayed over her eyes and looked at him.

The man looked briefly across the room, then pulled the woman around where he could see her better, looking into her eyes . “Aye, woman, you wanted to see if I was real or are you wishing something else?”

She tugged hard and looked at him in frustration. “I know you’re real, sir, . . . or my hand would have slipped through you like mist. Now if you would kindly let me go?” She dropped to one knee. His strength was too much to fight and she could only look at him in the hope that he would release her wrist.

Spec’s gaze wandered over the woman before he leaned closer to her. His breath was hot on the flesh of her neck. “I know what you seek and you have found it.”

She swallowed hard, feeling the dryness in her mouth as her spit disappeared. “Um . . . and what is that, sir?” She peered up at him, her eyes nervous, with a hint of fear. She knew he wouldn’t let go and she cursed herself under a soft breath.

The mountainous man smiled and took a deep breath, inhaling her scent. He place a hand to her belly. “I feel a fire inside you when you come close, burning, wanting release, to be free: a strong spirit and a desire to be what you are.”

Feeling her cheeks burn, she bit hard on her bottom lip, refraining from letting slip a snide comment. His hand pressing against her stomach made her go taut and she trembled slightly, not wishing him to find out what truly lay beneath this false visage. “Fire? What fire? You must be wrong, sir.”

He perused the bond to his left with a smile and slapped his leathers. His other hand kept a firm grip on the her. “You cannot hide what you are from me.” He leaned closer, his lips close to the bare skin of her neck. “Even your flesh gives you away.”

The woman breathed in deeply. His breath, warm and hot, wafted across her silky, mocha skin, teasing it and sending chills running across her spine, her flesh prickling and bumping from its humidity. She dared not look up, keeping her face hidden, letting her hair drape over her neck and face. His voice resonated in her ears like an echo as she listened to his words. She knew what he said was true, and she could only nod, nothing more. She was too scared to utter anything that would likely land her in more hot water than she had already put herself into.

The Jarl turned his gri,p forcing her to her knees at his boot, scrutinising her. “You know my words ring true. You are what I say you are.” His face came close to her ear, and his tongue glided along the lobe. “You are a bond and you have found what you seek, girl: a place at my boot.

She gasped as he forced her to her knees, his tongue leaving a slick, wet trail over her earlobe. She knew her cheeks had darkened a few shades darker from her blushes. With what dignity she had left as this northern man stripped it from bit by bit, her she said in a cracked voice, “Aye, that be true, Jarl.” Her heart thumped madly in her chest as she knelt at his feet. Her fraying gown draped over her knees, giving teasing glimpses of her thigh. She seemed to freeze as a soft whine came from her lips, his touch driving her senses wild, the strength and command in his tone enforcing her immobility.

Watching her with interest, Spec released her with a simple gesture “Strip and show me what you are, girl. As the fire inside you burns, let it show.”

The woman gave him an incredulous look. “Strip??” Her single question was rhetorical. She knew what he meant. She just wanted to stall the inevitable moment where she would kneel, naked and vulnerable. before his critical eyes.

Spec stood, his hand griping his whip as it uncoiled to the floor, pointing a hand towards the serpent off in the distance. “I only ask once girl.”He draped the whip around her neck. “Go there, girl, as what you seek is there. My serpent awaits.”

The potential bond shuddered feeling the whip’s kiss along her neck and her eyes followed where he pointed, seeing the serpent of which he spoke. Spec barked out orders to his men to make ready to sail, turning with a smile as he moved off to his serpent. After some time at sea, they berthed and he stepped onto the dock, waving a hand and slapping his leathers. “Come!”

The new bond swallowed hard and perused her surroundings. She knew none but him, and he only recently. She fell in quickly beside him. “What is going to happen?”

The huge man pointed to the holding far up the slope. “You are going there and I am taking you as my bond, girl.”

The bond looked past his pointing finger, up the slope, and breathed in the cool, frigid air that bit into her chest. and She Stared back at him. “Bond?” Her voice was hushed, knowing her freedom was not gone, but just beginning.

He who brought her here waved a hand to Vil. “I return with a slut.”He looked at the woman at his side. “She will be mine, brother.”

Vil raised his arm, seeing his Jarl coming towards the huge gate “Ho there, mae Jarl.” He nodded at the woman beside Spec, who craned her head upwards. The man her captor spoke to was a dark outline against the grey sky and she breathed in deeply trying to stay calm. The huge gate in front of them was shut tight but she knew it would open soon to let them pass.

Spec slapped his leathers. “Harta, beast.” He watched the girl moving towards the gate and put his shoulder to it as it swung open, kicking the heavy timber in place as it swung shut again. She heard the slap of leather and his stinging words. She rushed to his side, slipping through the gate behind him and feeling the heavy woosh as it closed tight behind her.

“Come,” the single word commanded. He stopped before the circle and looked at her. “You know what this is, girl?” he asked her, his hand moving to her shoulder as he waited.

The girl stared at the stones that formed the circle, knowing of and hearing stories about its being a bond circle. She chewed her lip gently, knowing she will be either thrown in or must go in willingly. “Aye, my Jarl, I do know what it is, though I’ve only heard stories of it on my wanderings, so it’s the first I ever saw.”

He smiled and leaned closer to her. “Aye, then, you know what you must do. I shall give you one chance to enter the circle of your own will. If it’s not taken, I shall throw you in there.”

The bond stared at the stones in fear feeling as if they will leave a stinging mark if she stepped within, but she knew it wouldn’t. The fear was thrilling and it drove her to want to step in to play with the danger. Her face turned up to his and she nodded, smoothing her gown that had seen much better days. She stepped over the stones and turned to look at him. She didn’t have to be thrown in.

He smiled at her. “Strip,” he ordered again, “and become what you are!”

The woman held her head high as she stripped herself of her garments, letting them drop about her ankles. The chilling air licked across her skin as she stood there, naked and shiveing lightly from the icy air.

The big man’s eyes roamed over her flesh as he reached into his pouch to take out an old rusted collar. “Come forth girl, drop to your knees before me and state what you are.”

The bond stepped over the stones, her toes digging into the grass and feeling its springy texture. Slowly, she dropped to her knees in a fluid motion, her head tilted upwards eyeing the iron he held in his hand. “I am a bond, a beast, your property, here to serve you in any way you wish me of and if am not pleasing enough you may do as you wish to this beast, Jarl.”

He smiled and corrected her. “My Jarl.” With that said, he leaned down taking the collar and placing it around her neck. As it closed, he turned his attention to the fire-pit and took up a rivet, tossing it to the coals. He waited for it to turn white hot and carried it to the anvil. “Stand and bend your neck to the anvil, girl.” He reached for a hammer and drew on some heavy leather gloves. The bond dared to follow him, the heat from the burning hot coals sending a warmth over her skin and she gave a faint smile at the temperature. Grabbing some tongues, he picked up the rivet as it changed from rust to white hot. He eased her neck onto the anvil, moving her hair out of the way. “Dont move, girl, as whenI strike with the hammer I shall not want you to jump. It could crush your skull.”

The woman held herself stock still, cringing as she felt the hard thud of the hammer on the rivets he pushed into her collar to weld it closed and she inhaled, holding her breath as she waited for it to be finished . He took up the hammer. placing the rivet in the clasp of the collar. He raised the hammer up, took aim and brought it down, forcing the rivet through. Rivet and collar became one, not like those of the south, with keys, but with a few more strikes and showers of sparks, the welding of the collar and rivet was completed. He grabbed the bucket of water, dousing girl and collar both with the cold water. “Come,” he said again to the girl, and returned to the hall.

The new bond followed close behind, her eyes wandering across the hall as they enter. She gasped seeing how large and lovely it was..The big Jarl smiled. “Here bonds stay to sleep,” he said, showing her the furs in the bonds’ room.”And learn what you can girl.”

The woman smiles..”Will do for you ,my Jarl. I don’t wish to be weak so shall grow strong in learning the ways of the North.”

Spec smiled,pleased. “That is goo,d as your life depends on it.”

The new bond grimaced.”Aye, my Jarl. The girl knows it does.”