(Collaboration between ConstableWalrus and KuroTenshi)
Healing house, Trellenborg
Vigi blinked and moved in front of Anndrais to stop his pacing, holding up a calming hand. “You are exhausted. You did not hear me clearly, also you are rambling.” He motioned to himself. “I said that I would stay here and look after him. I understand that you do not wish to get involved in our politics and I apologize for nearly dragging you into it. You do not need to do anything if you don’t wish to. I only wanted your help to move him, but if there is no where to move him to then I do not need your assistance. As I said I will look after him until someone comes back to claim him. You needn’t do anything, except perhaps try to rest. I know that seems impossible but you should try.”
Anndrais rubbed his head and sighed; and simply listened to Vigi as he spoke; and he replied “I am not saying I do not wish to help; simply that I can’t keep him in our shelter… I will be helping you treat him Vigi. And I will also be helping you move him…”
He went to Robbie and leaned down looking over him “We lift him; start moving down the way, and start asking anyone where the Ragnarson hold is, We don’t stop until we find it, someone in this damned place must know where they live.”
“If the doors locked, we break in, simple as that…” He said and waved him over “Now comon, lets get him up… Careful of the wound.”
Vigi furrowed his brow and moved over to join Anndrais on Robbie’s other side. “You are a good man, monk, if a bit stubborn.” He said, his lips ghosting into a bit of a smile. “But such is the way of man.” He shrugged and winced when it pulled at his ribs. At least one of his ribs was cracked it felt like. Thankfully he could pull one of Robbie’s arm over his shoulders and not have him bare his weight down on his injured side. He did so, trying his best to not jostle the slaves head too much.
Anndrais hefted, and he mused silently thanking himself for keeping in good shape and that Robbie was lighter than Wilfred. He had one arm over his shoulder the other wrapped about Robbie’s waist keeping him up.
“Okay… Let’s head down the hill, ask anyone you see where the Ragnarsson longhouse is, the quicker we can find it and get in the better. Hopefully get the fire started, and i’m sure they have something we can use as bandages.” He huffed slightly as they walked as quick as they could manage without slipping down the slight hill.
“Get water on a boil once we get inside, did you have any supplies in your home? Or am I going to make a run for my medicines?” He said harshly “I don’t want any stones rubbed on him or anything of that sort, we will treat him quick and easy, give him something for the pain and stop the bleeding. Then we hope he wakes up with half a mind left.”
He glanced at Vigi “Understand?” He knew his tone was harsh but he could not help it, he had not wanted to be rude but he was sure it came off that way, he grunted making sure he had a strong grip on Robbie, trying to take most of his weight. He would say sorry once Robbie was safe somewhere.
“This experience will go a lot smoother if you did not treat me as though I am your enemy monk.” Vigi grunted, the walking and carrying putting more strain on his battered body than he had originally thought it would. “Also my home is currently on fire as are a large portion of my supplies.” He snapped back at Anndrais. “I’ve something on me that should help though.” He muttered, turning to focus on the ground as they walked so he wouldn’t fall.
Anndrais rolled his eyes “You are not my enemy, I am just carrying most of him, trying to find a damn home in the middle of this Cursed place…” He grunted out moving and keeping his footing steady “As for your home, sorry. I am sure someone will take you in.” He hissed out, lightly in retort.
“What? actual medicine? Or some remedy from your gods? Because if it isn't medicine I care little what is in your pockets.” he snapped out, he was simply frustrated and when Robbie was down and settled he would apologise, but the frustration had settled in with the entire business.
“But it matters not, we have to be almost there…” he said as the ground leveled beneath them, making it easier to hold Robbie.
Vigi laughed bitterly. “Yes, I’m sure many will be jumping at the chance to give me shelter after today.” He muttered. “Also do not doubt the power of my gods and I shall not doubt the power of yours.”
His attention quickly shifted when he saw a man sprinting toward the smoke of the healing house. “You!” Vigi shouted, making him stop. “Do you know where the Ragnarsson’s longhouse is?” He barked out, the question coming out more as a demand.
The man blinked and Vigi could see that he seemed to be in a daze of sorts, most likely shock from whatever he was running from. He pointed down another path and mumbled out directions that Vigi could barely hear. Vigi nodded. “Thank you.”
He nodded numbly and continued running. Vigi briefly wondered what the man had seen to put him into such a state and he hoped that he didn’t see it himself. “Let’s go.”
Anndrais watched as the man ran off; he cared little but for the one in his arms “We have little time, we must hurry, I pray the door is open.” He tightened his grip and quickened his pace a tad bit enough to make more of a rush, but to not let Robbie’s head swing.
His arms ached, he was sure Vigi was in much more pain after the beatings he took, he would have a look at him once robbie was settled, and he kept up the pace eventually reaching the Ragnarsson longhouse.
“Come, lets get inside quickly.”
Vigi nodded, a bit uneasy with breaking into the longhouse of such a strong, high ranking man but hopefully they would be understanding. He released Robbie and moved to the door, the cold seeping into him as he fumbled with the lock until he could get the door open. “You lay him down and cover him, I’ll get a fire started.” Vigi said, stepping into the dark longhouse and making a beeline to the smoldering fire pit in the center.
Anndrais dragged Robbie into the room; and laid him down on the floor. He rushed towards the sleeping benches and started to grab the furs and throw them upon the ground before moving Robbie once more onto the furs and wrapped him in them.
He looked up and eyed Vigi “Get that fire started quick… He’s wrapped.” He said looking around, and saw the privacy curtain, and went to it, tearing some of the cloth from the bottom, and started to rewrap the bloody wound “This will work for right now until I can get something better… Hows that fire coming Vigi?”
“It’s going.” Vigi grunted after sparking a small fire into the kindling. “I’ll start boiling some water for cleaning.” He started to push himself up the movement caused a sharp stab of pain to rip through his side. He hissed sharply and fell back onto his knees, breathing heavily through his gritted teeth and wrapping his arm around his side. Vigi shut his eyes tight and tried to push past the pain, embarrassment burning through him at displaying such weakness in front of a stranger.
Anndrais looked up at the man and grit his teeth “Just hold it together for a few more moments Vigi, and i’ll treat you… Just last another minute.” He said and stood making sure that Robbie’s head was slightly elevated and he went to Vigi and looked him over for a moment.
“Is it in your ribs? Go lie down, now I’ll take care of the boiling, there has to be some medical supplies in this house we could borrow…” He looked at the bloody man kneeling before him “Now go, Lie down, i’ll get the hot water ready and you can wash that blood off you.”
Vigi sucked in a deep breath and lifted his head to look up at the Christian. “I’m fine.” He grunted, slowly forcing himself to uncurl from the floor and he grabbed onto a sleeping bench to help him stand. “You needn’t worry about me.” He said, eyes hard with stubbornness as he gingerly kept one arm around his torso.
Anndrais rolled his eyes “Curse you and your stubborn pride, As someone who knows medicine, please go lie down, and i’ll finish this.” He pointed to the bench “Or at least sit down, if you tumble and make yourself worse then i’m out of help to heal him.” And he drew his finger to Robbie, “Now sit down and i’ll get everything ready.”
Vigi opened his mouth to protest but stopped himself. As much as he loathed to admit it, Anndrais was right. “Very well.” He relented with a heavy breath and slowly sat down on one of the benches. He ran his hand through his hair and began the tedious task of removing all the decorative beads woven into the pale strands. Some of which were stained black from Dragur blood.
Anndrais nodded “Good, now i’ll set this to boil, we’ll clean him up, then yourself and i’ll make a run to get supplies, or search this place… Again you best do the explaining if they happen to come home.” and he hauled the pot over the fire setting it to boil.
Vigi nodded in agreement, carefully setting his beads to the side so he wouldn’t lose any. “I agree, surprisingly enough.”
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Collab between Constablewarlus and Idlehands
He smiled, in truth he was less humor and more anger at the moment, as he had expected Loker to be here with men, not a single woman. But he would take the help bringing a shield up towards a draugr that came close and smashing it in the face with the blunt edge sending it backing away.
Sigrid jumped away as Orran barrelled into the draugr at her arm, looking up with surprise and no small amount of relief. With her spear she drove back the other two draugr, shooting him a glare at his comment. Now that odds were evened up she attacked and went on the offensive. She did not want to get close to the draugr and the one on her right lunged, she blocked it with the shaft and stabbed into it’s eye with her longknife, feeling it slip all the way in to the hilt.
“Perhaps Odin sent you,” she grunted, her knife lodged in the skull and she let go. Both hands on her spear she whirled around, her skirts flying and beads clattering together. Sigrid braced herself, her heart pounding and she panted with exertion. “Ravens flew this morning...”
The last draugr was in front of her as Orran’s blade took care of the other. With a war cry she gathered her strength and with two hands stabbed the spear forward into the gaping mouth of the draugr. Her thrust took the long steel spike through it’s gullet and out the back of it’s rotting skull. She leaned against the butt of the spear catching her breath, looking up with flashing green eyes at Orran, her hair hanging in her face.
“Or perhaps you just can’t stay away,” she grinned fiercely at him and yanked her spear from the dead draugr, shaking it free of the dark blood.
Sigrid approached him, eyeing the painted man, “You have my thanks again, Christian. Once this is all settled, I will see you are rewarded for your service.”
She looked him over and then at her arm, but the sleeve was in tact. Leaning the spear on her shoulder she looked at her hip and saw the rip in the wool dress. A cold wash of fear went over her.
Orran having stabbed the draugr; left the blade in as he slammed the cornered shield into it’s skull, until a sickening crack could be heard; he stepped off the Draugr kicking it in the ribs out of spite, and unlodged his blade.
He turned to Sigrid “Perhaps, I simply hunt you like a wolf.” He chuckled and wiped the blade off on his trousers; looking at the woman again “Twice it is now, by the end of the week you will be owing me thrice over at this rate…”
Orran cast a glance at her face as it seemed all color drained from it; he followed her gaze to the dress, and the large rip. He stepped towards her and knelt “Don’t act like you have just seen Christ himself, i’ll check it.” He said jokingly knowing that if Anndrais were here that would be a smack across the head with a large book.
Sigrid cut a glance at him, his stylized wolves painted on his face gave him a fearsome appearance and she smiled thinly. “Hunt me like a wolf you might not like it if you catch me.”
She tapped the bloody spear on the ground, looking at her hip where the rent in the fabric was.
“I would not fear your Christ,” she replied as she pulled at the tear, trying to see if her skin was broken.
“Turn around, Orran,” she ordered, tossing her hair back.
Orran glared up at her for a moment “You are lucky I am not like your people Sigrid… And that I simply dissuade from asking a reward from you.” His eyes tried to meet hers “Instead of taking what I think is good enough payment.”
He kept the scowl as he insulted Christ, he had no urge to debate with this woman, already she tried on his patience, and as she ordered him he stood “Why should I take any orders from you? You have no pull here.”
The meeting with the slave today really had him riled up and he was not going to take orders from a woman who owed him the life of her, and earlier her family. “You could ask, if I could turn around, or you could just swallow your pride and let me check so we could get this over with. But I do not take orders from you.”
Orran scowled at her and bit his tongue, He wanted to tell her to think, where had her husband been when her and her children were under attack, on both accounts. And what is the worth of a man, if he is not there to defend his family. But he bit back this comment though hardly, as he grunted in his throat.
Sigrid flushed with anger, seeing the look in his dark eyes, “You assume you could take your reward for me without point of my spear through your gut. I might owe you thanks but I would not pay for it by disgracing my husband.”
She took a step toward him, “I have pull here, you know who my husband is and he will be sitting in that chair very soon.”
Sigrid gestured to the Jarl’s chair that still sat next to the hearth. “I can check myself.”
Ignoring him she quickly hiked up her skirt along her right leg to check her hip. Her gratefulness for his rescue was tempered with the anger simmering from his refusal to do as she asked. As fast as she could, she looked at the where the draugr had bit her hip, a bead of sweat trickling down the back of her neck. There was two crescent marks already bruising her milky skin but no blood.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she touched them to make sure there was no breaking of the skin. “So close,” she closed her eyes briefly, letting her skirt fall back down.
Orran heard her words, and the coil snapped; he growled out, as she gestured to the chair. “You have no pull, twice today I have saved everything you care about, twice… And all you care about is that fucking chair?!” He yelled at her.
He gestured to it “You want to know what I think of your husband in that chair? A man who can’t even defend his own children? That a stranger from a land that I’m sure that monster has left plenty of children dead and burned trapped inside buildings. Oh, you deserve every last piece of hell coming to you Sigid, you and that husband of yours.”
Orran growled out loudly rolling his shoulders “Let us see how well received you are, when the only thing that kept your children alive less than a day ago, was me.” And he went to grip her spear wresting it from her grip and tossed it across the room “I will never understand why Anndrais wants to save you monsters… Too much heart and not enough sense.”
He pointed at the chair “If that is all you desire in this world, past everything that you were given…” He pointed at the Draugr “Then you deserve to be with the corpses… Enjoy your children while you have them, you will get no assistance from me anymore.” He spat at her feet, and turned to move away.
Sigrid was smoothing her skirt down when he snapped at her and before she could respond he was snatching the spear from her hand. She was not expecting it and it was out of her grip before she could tighten her fingers. Gawking at Orran as he exploded, his words making her temper rise as her face flushed pink. When he turned to walk away she reacted, storming after him, her eyes blazing green fire.
“How dare you! I’ve told you I am thankful, I’ve offered you reward but you would not take coin,” she caught up with him and got in his path. “What do you want? For me to grovel on my knees...you have my gratitude and I would reward you with nearly anything you wished for the lives of my children. You said you did not need anything but you do. You do need something, we all need it.”
She stepped closer to him, she was not much shorter than him so her eyes met his dark gaze directly. “We need to survive the winter and how long do you think we would last with Harald on that chair. If you think Ragnar is bloodthirsty and cruel, you’re in for an unpleasant surprise.”
She looked over him fiercely, her breathing was heavy from her exertion and anger. “We are not in your lands, things are different here. Our lands are harsh and unforgiving and so must we be to live here. But that is not always true.”
Sigrid bit her lower lip for a brief moment, “I love my children and I do not want to see more people die from draugr or from war. Ragnar would bring stability but not with Harald in the picture. You say your God is a god of peace? Would he not want this?”
Orran growled as she approached; and looked down at the woman with a scowl “What I want is some respect, But you mistake me, you make the mistake that I give a damn who sits in that fucking chair.”
He chuckled mostly in anger, “You think I care who pretends to lead everything here, you’re petty bickering and political scrounging for control like rats on a carcass.” He pulled from her and started to pace lightly “Oh, your husband is not a cruel man? He would bring stability?”
Orran glared at her “Stability so your… Husband, and your people…” His fists tightened and he roared at her “CAN GO BURN, KILL, AND MAIM MY PEOPLE! I WOULD RATHER SEE ALL OF THIS BURNED TO THE GROUND MYSELF WITH IT THAN TO HAVE ANYONE OF YOU SET FOOT ON MY LAND AGAIN!”
Orran growled and pointed his finger in her face “You husband is a murderer, a thief, and a rapist!” He snapped out at her “If you think I will ever forgive any of you for the pain you have caused so many? And for what? some fucking gold and some more slaves? You people make me sick… So that is what I think of your husband.”
“You can get back to me about who is cruel, when my people come to this land, steal from you, and take you on a ship chain you up, and let the men aboard have at you Sigrid.” He spit on her shoes and snarled at her “You think you know cruelty? Go fuck yourself.”
Sigrid stared at him, her lips parted slightly in shock as he shouted at her. She looked away from him when he pointed in her face, she could imagine all too well what would become of her if raiders were to sweep through. The same thing that would happen if Harald took control. She felt a cold anger rush through her veins and a small trace of shame. It was a world where the strongest survived, where men took what the wanted if they could and it left little room for sentiment but Sigrid was not so cold hearted as Orran might think. She had not wanted to think of the people that were the cost of her beads and her silver. Her fingers went to the gold bead that had come from a bishop’s rosary. She glared down at the spit on her shoes and bit back her anger.
“I do not ask for your forgiveness,” she said slowly, “But you are right...you do deserve respect. I’ve not given you the proper respect a warrior of your standing deserves because of the cross you wear. And that was wrong.”
Sigrid swallowed her bruised pride, “You hate us and I understand. If I were from your lands I would hate and fear the Northmen. It is the way of things, the Gods give to those that are strong and willing to take. But hear me, Orran and trust to this. You do not want to see Harald in that chair, even if you do not wish to see Ragnar there.”
“Please,” she said quietly. “For now, set your hatred aside and join us. You and Anndrais both, for we need allies against Harald. The Saxon has promised to aid us, though he is just a slave he looks like a man who can fight. We are few and Harald has many...”
She shook her head, brushing back her long red locks that had fallen loose, a moment of doubt and fear flickered on her fair face. Sigrid stepped toward him cautiously, keeping an eye on his blade.
“If you really feel that way why did you run in here and save me?”
Orran let her speak and looked at her hard; you would think this is the first time the woman ever had to apologise to someone and he rolled his shoulders as she stepped closer “We will join nobody, we are not on anyone’s side, because nobody is on our side…”
He growled out lightly, but as she said please he grunted “I came and saved you… Because unlike your men, I care if a child loses their mother… There is already enough of that suffering in my lands.” He eyed her carefully “ I did not do it for you, but for your children… Remember that Sigrid. While I might hate your husband, hate that you wear stolen gold and jewels, hate how everything you have gained came at the blood of innocent people… I can not hate your children.”
“Whether you take insult or comfort in that is your own dealings… But I am done, sides may change, or not. But I will have no part in either of your little war going on here. If you are that desperate for the help of a Christian, ask Anndrais. Unless he beckons me so, I will not aid you against Harald.”
He looked at her for a moment longer, lingering on the look of fear at her face “Know that if it ever comes to a point, where your children, or any of the little ones are put in danger, I will die for them. That is the only guarantee I can give, other than that. I give no allegiances to either of you.”
Sigrid nodded, her hands on her hips, taking a deep breath as she listened to him. “Fair enough. Well, they are in the other room with that huntsman. I remained here to keep the draugr away from them. So, once again, Orran you have saved mine and Hallerna’s children.”
She went over to the draugr and yanked out her knife, twisting and pulling it until it came free. Sigrid wiped it off and sheathed it, feeling her hands trembling from the adrenaline. She was quiet for a moment, not looking at him as she passed Orran to fetch her spear.
Finally she looked at him, “Thank you and I’m sorry. We would be enemies anywhere else but if you are willing to at least stand for the children, I can be grateful for it.”
She looked at the Jarl’s bedroom door where the children and Einnar hid. “Before I get them I have to ask you this. You will include Svlala and Hallerna in your defense as well? You saw what Harald did to Tora...he would do worse to any woman who has stood against him.”
Sigrid left out herself, knowing how angry the Christian warrior was at her and she would not beg his help for her personal protection. As long as Ragnar drew breath, she would ask for no other to defend her.
Orran’s face visibly softened when she mentioned the children were in the other room; and he eyed the door that held them safely inside “I…. I did not know.” He said, and as she crossed before him; he watched her slowly.
The anger was still in his features, but every moment the children were brought up it softened just a tad bit. “I protect them because I grow tired of seeing orphans, of children without mothers, who were taken aboard longboats, and never seen again.”
“You forget Sigrid, that the children who grow now, will seek terrible vengeance, twice that of the anger I feel, I can only pray God stays their hand when they seek to return the favor your people brought upon them.” He sighed out; and he raised an eyebrow “So we speak of women now, do you wish to include yourself in that list as well? Or would you not classify yourself as a mother to children? The only reason I came and protected you today with not knowing of the children behind those doors.”
He pointed at the doorway “Was because I do not wish to see any more harm come to those who are innocent, their only crime being born in a world so violent.” Orran sighed for a moment looking towards the door again, “But do not try to guilt me into anything, I gave you my only promise… But you fall under that list of women that has stood against him, remember that.”
He looked towards the door, before turning and making his way out; he did not wish to argue or talk with her anymore, every word out of her mouth he felt was trying to manipulate him, he would not fight for anyone save for those that could not fight for themselves.
Sigrid cocked her eyebrow, her lips pressing down in a line for a moment, "Of course I am a mother to children and it pains me to see those orphans or ones who lose their children. I am also a Thane's wife and that might not mean anything to you but it means that I am responsible for more than just my own get. In case you're wondering where Ragnar and Loker and the men are they are down at the healing house. The children warned us that draugr are there as they are here...they're in the village. We did not know the draugr were in the Hall when the men left."
Gritting her teeth she glared at him, trying to force herself to calm down and think. How would a man from the lands that are raided understand a Norseman's honor? She took a deep breath, Orran's words had sunk in and it was true. Their wealth came from blood and no matter how glorious battle was for a warrior as Ragnar was it did not take away the fact that it left tragedy in it's wake. It was convenient for her not to think of those things because it could so easily be done to her and her own. Vikings did not always raid the British Isles and more often than not would raid each other. How many times had she defended or hid herself and her children from marauders when Ragnar was away. Now the undead draugr were popping all over, turning people with deadly speed she knew too well. It was not a time for fighting amongst themselves.
"Orran, wait," she said after reigning in her temper and she approached him. "Look...we are much the same, you and I. We have hot blood and are stubborn...we believe in our gods and our ways. Much you say is true, about what happens...but we cannot dwell on that, it is greater than both of us. Right now, we must repel these draugr otherwise we will not need to worry about who is Jarl or surviving the winter."
Her stern lovely face softened and she rubbed her hand against her mouth. "I would not try to guilt you into anything, I am sure you have your own reasons and it is good of you to defend those that are defenseless."
Unexpected tears sprang to her eyes when she thought of how Harald's men, bidden or not, had tried to murder her children and those of Hallerna. And how her gentle slave had been taken and used, the abuse Tora had endured by that horrible man all to make a point against her and her husband that it would be Sigrid in her place if he took charge. Harald's cruelty had gone unchecked for lack of strength behind Ragnar but now he had Loker and his men. A warrior like Orran would be welcomed. She blinked them back and blew out a breath, looking at the Pict's dark eyes.
"I'll fetch the children, would you be so good as to escort us?...Please," she asked, glancing at the heavy door, unable to look any longer at the angry face of the painted man. Sigrid was a proud woman, as fiery as the color of her hair and she could be stiffnecked to a fault but she was not stupid. They needed every sword and Orran was worth at least two, Christian or not, against both Harald and the draugr..
Orran tightened his jaw as he walked away; not wanting to hear any more of what she had to say until she called out behind him; and he did not know why, but the desperation in her voice bid him to sigh and he turned to face the woman. as she explained herself, but he would not be dissuaded from his anger; and he stood scowling at her; looking into her eyes as she tried to avoid his.
"I want you to understand one thing about me Sigrid, about Anndrais... We do not do the things we do, for riches and wealth in this world, but for the change to enter the kingdom that comes in the next." He said softly; and as he stared into her eyes he saw the tears start to form. His scowl was unwavering but he could not feel too much anger as the woman fought with tears, what she was thinking about he did not know, but it was disarming to see a woman cry.
He grunted slightly; and sighed looking at her. Orran glanced over at the heavy door and then turned his gaze back to her; his face softened immensely when she mentioned the children. "You need not ask, of course I will escort you wherever you need to go." He glanced towards the door again "I am sure you understand the beauty in children, it is pure innocence, unbridled, they are like stars in the darkness to me. So much death, we get so many orphans Sigrid, and some how most of them find a way to smile through the grief."
He paused for a moment and swallowed "Go ahead and get them ready I will be out here waiting."
He smiled, in truth he was less humor and more anger at the moment, as he had expected Loker to be here with men, not a single woman. But he would take the help bringing a shield up towards a draugr that came close and smashing it in the face with the blunt edge sending it backing away.
Sigrid jumped away as Orran barrelled into the draugr at her arm, looking up with surprise and no small amount of relief. With her spear she drove back the other two draugr, shooting him a glare at his comment. Now that odds were evened up she attacked and went on the offensive. She did not want to get close to the draugr and the one on her right lunged, she blocked it with the shaft and stabbed into it’s eye with her longknife, feeling it slip all the way in to the hilt.
“Perhaps Odin sent you,” she grunted, her knife lodged in the skull and she let go. Both hands on her spear she whirled around, her skirts flying and beads clattering together. Sigrid braced herself, her heart pounding and she panted with exertion. “Ravens flew this morning...”
The last draugr was in front of her as Orran’s blade took care of the other. With a war cry she gathered her strength and with two hands stabbed the spear forward into the gaping mouth of the draugr. Her thrust took the long steel spike through it’s gullet and out the back of it’s rotting skull. She leaned against the butt of the spear catching her breath, looking up with flashing green eyes at Orran, her hair hanging in her face.
“Or perhaps you just can’t stay away,” she grinned fiercely at him and yanked her spear from the dead draugr, shaking it free of the dark blood.
Sigrid approached him, eyeing the painted man, “You have my thanks again, Christian. Once this is all settled, I will see you are rewarded for your service.”
She looked him over and then at her arm, but the sleeve was in tact. Leaning the spear on her shoulder she looked at her hip and saw the rip in the wool dress. A cold wash of fear went over her.
Orran having stabbed the draugr; left the blade in as he slammed the cornered shield into it’s skull, until a sickening crack could be heard; he stepped off the Draugr kicking it in the ribs out of spite, and unlodged his blade.
He turned to Sigrid “Perhaps, I simply hunt you like a wolf.” He chuckled and wiped the blade off on his trousers; looking at the woman again “Twice it is now, by the end of the week you will be owing me thrice over at this rate…”
Orran cast a glance at her face as it seemed all color drained from it; he followed her gaze to the dress, and the large rip. He stepped towards her and knelt “Don’t act like you have just seen Christ himself, i’ll check it.” He said jokingly knowing that if Anndrais were here that would be a smack across the head with a large book.
Sigrid cut a glance at him, his stylized wolves painted on his face gave him a fearsome appearance and she smiled thinly. “Hunt me like a wolf you might not like it if you catch me.”
She tapped the bloody spear on the ground, looking at her hip where the rent in the fabric was.
“I would not fear your Christ,” she replied as she pulled at the tear, trying to see if her skin was broken.
“Turn around, Orran,” she ordered, tossing her hair back.
Orran glared up at her for a moment “You are lucky I am not like your people Sigrid… And that I simply dissuade from asking a reward from you.” His eyes tried to meet hers “Instead of taking what I think is good enough payment.”
He kept the scowl as he insulted Christ, he had no urge to debate with this woman, already she tried on his patience, and as she ordered him he stood “Why should I take any orders from you? You have no pull here.”
The meeting with the slave today really had him riled up and he was not going to take orders from a woman who owed him the life of her, and earlier her family. “You could ask, if I could turn around, or you could just swallow your pride and let me check so we could get this over with. But I do not take orders from you.”
Orran scowled at her and bit his tongue, He wanted to tell her to think, where had her husband been when her and her children were under attack, on both accounts. And what is the worth of a man, if he is not there to defend his family. But he bit back this comment though hardly, as he grunted in his throat.
Sigrid flushed with anger, seeing the look in his dark eyes, “You assume you could take your reward for me without point of my spear through your gut. I might owe you thanks but I would not pay for it by disgracing my husband.”
She took a step toward him, “I have pull here, you know who my husband is and he will be sitting in that chair very soon.”
Sigrid gestured to the Jarl’s chair that still sat next to the hearth. “I can check myself.”
Ignoring him she quickly hiked up her skirt along her right leg to check her hip. Her gratefulness for his rescue was tempered with the anger simmering from his refusal to do as she asked. As fast as she could, she looked at the where the draugr had bit her hip, a bead of sweat trickling down the back of her neck. There was two crescent marks already bruising her milky skin but no blood.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she touched them to make sure there was no breaking of the skin. “So close,” she closed her eyes briefly, letting her skirt fall back down.
Orran heard her words, and the coil snapped; he growled out, as she gestured to the chair. “You have no pull, twice today I have saved everything you care about, twice… And all you care about is that fucking chair?!” He yelled at her.
He gestured to it “You want to know what I think of your husband in that chair? A man who can’t even defend his own children? That a stranger from a land that I’m sure that monster has left plenty of children dead and burned trapped inside buildings. Oh, you deserve every last piece of hell coming to you Sigid, you and that husband of yours.”
Orran growled out loudly rolling his shoulders “Let us see how well received you are, when the only thing that kept your children alive less than a day ago, was me.” And he went to grip her spear wresting it from her grip and tossed it across the room “I will never understand why Anndrais wants to save you monsters… Too much heart and not enough sense.”
He pointed at the chair “If that is all you desire in this world, past everything that you were given…” He pointed at the Draugr “Then you deserve to be with the corpses… Enjoy your children while you have them, you will get no assistance from me anymore.” He spat at her feet, and turned to move away.
Sigrid was smoothing her skirt down when he snapped at her and before she could respond he was snatching the spear from her hand. She was not expecting it and it was out of her grip before she could tighten her fingers. Gawking at Orran as he exploded, his words making her temper rise as her face flushed pink. When he turned to walk away she reacted, storming after him, her eyes blazing green fire.
“How dare you! I’ve told you I am thankful, I’ve offered you reward but you would not take coin,” she caught up with him and got in his path. “What do you want? For me to grovel on my knees...you have my gratitude and I would reward you with nearly anything you wished for the lives of my children. You said you did not need anything but you do. You do need something, we all need it.”
She stepped closer to him, she was not much shorter than him so her eyes met his dark gaze directly. “We need to survive the winter and how long do you think we would last with Harald on that chair. If you think Ragnar is bloodthirsty and cruel, you’re in for an unpleasant surprise.”
She looked over him fiercely, her breathing was heavy from her exertion and anger. “We are not in your lands, things are different here. Our lands are harsh and unforgiving and so must we be to live here. But that is not always true.”
Sigrid bit her lower lip for a brief moment, “I love my children and I do not want to see more people die from draugr or from war. Ragnar would bring stability but not with Harald in the picture. You say your God is a god of peace? Would he not want this?”
Orran growled as she approached; and looked down at the woman with a scowl “What I want is some respect, But you mistake me, you make the mistake that I give a damn who sits in that fucking chair.”
He chuckled mostly in anger, “You think I care who pretends to lead everything here, you’re petty bickering and political scrounging for control like rats on a carcass.” He pulled from her and started to pace lightly “Oh, your husband is not a cruel man? He would bring stability?”
Orran glared at her “Stability so your… Husband, and your people…” His fists tightened and he roared at her “CAN GO BURN, KILL, AND MAIM MY PEOPLE! I WOULD RATHER SEE ALL OF THIS BURNED TO THE GROUND MYSELF WITH IT THAN TO HAVE ANYONE OF YOU SET FOOT ON MY LAND AGAIN!”
Orran growled and pointed his finger in her face “You husband is a murderer, a thief, and a rapist!” He snapped out at her “If you think I will ever forgive any of you for the pain you have caused so many? And for what? some fucking gold and some more slaves? You people make me sick… So that is what I think of your husband.”
“You can get back to me about who is cruel, when my people come to this land, steal from you, and take you on a ship chain you up, and let the men aboard have at you Sigrid.” He spit on her shoes and snarled at her “You think you know cruelty? Go fuck yourself.”
Sigrid stared at him, her lips parted slightly in shock as he shouted at her. She looked away from him when he pointed in her face, she could imagine all too well what would become of her if raiders were to sweep through. The same thing that would happen if Harald took control. She felt a cold anger rush through her veins and a small trace of shame. It was a world where the strongest survived, where men took what the wanted if they could and it left little room for sentiment but Sigrid was not so cold hearted as Orran might think. She had not wanted to think of the people that were the cost of her beads and her silver. Her fingers went to the gold bead that had come from a bishop’s rosary. She glared down at the spit on her shoes and bit back her anger.
“I do not ask for your forgiveness,” she said slowly, “But you are right...you do deserve respect. I’ve not given you the proper respect a warrior of your standing deserves because of the cross you wear. And that was wrong.”
Sigrid swallowed her bruised pride, “You hate us and I understand. If I were from your lands I would hate and fear the Northmen. It is the way of things, the Gods give to those that are strong and willing to take. But hear me, Orran and trust to this. You do not want to see Harald in that chair, even if you do not wish to see Ragnar there.”
“Please,” she said quietly. “For now, set your hatred aside and join us. You and Anndrais both, for we need allies against Harald. The Saxon has promised to aid us, though he is just a slave he looks like a man who can fight. We are few and Harald has many...”
She shook her head, brushing back her long red locks that had fallen loose, a moment of doubt and fear flickered on her fair face. Sigrid stepped toward him cautiously, keeping an eye on his blade.
“If you really feel that way why did you run in here and save me?”
Orran let her speak and looked at her hard; you would think this is the first time the woman ever had to apologise to someone and he rolled his shoulders as she stepped closer “We will join nobody, we are not on anyone’s side, because nobody is on our side…”
He growled out lightly, but as she said please he grunted “I came and saved you… Because unlike your men, I care if a child loses their mother… There is already enough of that suffering in my lands.” He eyed her carefully “ I did not do it for you, but for your children… Remember that Sigrid. While I might hate your husband, hate that you wear stolen gold and jewels, hate how everything you have gained came at the blood of innocent people… I can not hate your children.”
“Whether you take insult or comfort in that is your own dealings… But I am done, sides may change, or not. But I will have no part in either of your little war going on here. If you are that desperate for the help of a Christian, ask Anndrais. Unless he beckons me so, I will not aid you against Harald.”
He looked at her for a moment longer, lingering on the look of fear at her face “Know that if it ever comes to a point, where your children, or any of the little ones are put in danger, I will die for them. That is the only guarantee I can give, other than that. I give no allegiances to either of you.”
Sigrid nodded, her hands on her hips, taking a deep breath as she listened to him. “Fair enough. Well, they are in the other room with that huntsman. I remained here to keep the draugr away from them. So, once again, Orran you have saved mine and Hallerna’s children.”
She went over to the draugr and yanked out her knife, twisting and pulling it until it came free. Sigrid wiped it off and sheathed it, feeling her hands trembling from the adrenaline. She was quiet for a moment, not looking at him as she passed Orran to fetch her spear.
Finally she looked at him, “Thank you and I’m sorry. We would be enemies anywhere else but if you are willing to at least stand for the children, I can be grateful for it.”
She looked at the Jarl’s bedroom door where the children and Einnar hid. “Before I get them I have to ask you this. You will include Svlala and Hallerna in your defense as well? You saw what Harald did to Tora...he would do worse to any woman who has stood against him.”
Sigrid left out herself, knowing how angry the Christian warrior was at her and she would not beg his help for her personal protection. As long as Ragnar drew breath, she would ask for no other to defend her.
Orran’s face visibly softened when she mentioned the children were in the other room; and he eyed the door that held them safely inside “I…. I did not know.” He said, and as she crossed before him; he watched her slowly.
The anger was still in his features, but every moment the children were brought up it softened just a tad bit. “I protect them because I grow tired of seeing orphans, of children without mothers, who were taken aboard longboats, and never seen again.”
“You forget Sigrid, that the children who grow now, will seek terrible vengeance, twice that of the anger I feel, I can only pray God stays their hand when they seek to return the favor your people brought upon them.” He sighed out; and he raised an eyebrow “So we speak of women now, do you wish to include yourself in that list as well? Or would you not classify yourself as a mother to children? The only reason I came and protected you today with not knowing of the children behind those doors.”
He pointed at the doorway “Was because I do not wish to see any more harm come to those who are innocent, their only crime being born in a world so violent.” Orran sighed for a moment looking towards the door again, “But do not try to guilt me into anything, I gave you my only promise… But you fall under that list of women that has stood against him, remember that.”
He looked towards the door, before turning and making his way out; he did not wish to argue or talk with her anymore, every word out of her mouth he felt was trying to manipulate him, he would not fight for anyone save for those that could not fight for themselves.
Sigrid cocked her eyebrow, her lips pressing down in a line for a moment, "Of course I am a mother to children and it pains me to see those orphans or ones who lose their children. I am also a Thane's wife and that might not mean anything to you but it means that I am responsible for more than just my own get. In case you're wondering where Ragnar and Loker and the men are they are down at the healing house. The children warned us that draugr are there as they are here...they're in the village. We did not know the draugr were in the Hall when the men left."
Gritting her teeth she glared at him, trying to force herself to calm down and think. How would a man from the lands that are raided understand a Norseman's honor? She took a deep breath, Orran's words had sunk in and it was true. Their wealth came from blood and no matter how glorious battle was for a warrior as Ragnar was it did not take away the fact that it left tragedy in it's wake. It was convenient for her not to think of those things because it could so easily be done to her and her own. Vikings did not always raid the British Isles and more often than not would raid each other. How many times had she defended or hid herself and her children from marauders when Ragnar was away. Now the undead draugr were popping all over, turning people with deadly speed she knew too well. It was not a time for fighting amongst themselves.
"Orran, wait," she said after reigning in her temper and she approached him. "Look...we are much the same, you and I. We have hot blood and are stubborn...we believe in our gods and our ways. Much you say is true, about what happens...but we cannot dwell on that, it is greater than both of us. Right now, we must repel these draugr otherwise we will not need to worry about who is Jarl or surviving the winter."
Her stern lovely face softened and she rubbed her hand against her mouth. "I would not try to guilt you into anything, I am sure you have your own reasons and it is good of you to defend those that are defenseless."
Unexpected tears sprang to her eyes when she thought of how Harald's men, bidden or not, had tried to murder her children and those of Hallerna. And how her gentle slave had been taken and used, the abuse Tora had endured by that horrible man all to make a point against her and her husband that it would be Sigrid in her place if he took charge. Harald's cruelty had gone unchecked for lack of strength behind Ragnar but now he had Loker and his men. A warrior like Orran would be welcomed. She blinked them back and blew out a breath, looking at the Pict's dark eyes.
"I'll fetch the children, would you be so good as to escort us?...Please," she asked, glancing at the heavy door, unable to look any longer at the angry face of the painted man. Sigrid was a proud woman, as fiery as the color of her hair and she could be stiffnecked to a fault but she was not stupid. They needed every sword and Orran was worth at least two, Christian or not, against both Harald and the draugr..
Orran tightened his jaw as he walked away; not wanting to hear any more of what she had to say until she called out behind him; and he did not know why, but the desperation in her voice bid him to sigh and he turned to face the woman. as she explained herself, but he would not be dissuaded from his anger; and he stood scowling at her; looking into her eyes as she tried to avoid his.
"I want you to understand one thing about me Sigrid, about Anndrais... We do not do the things we do, for riches and wealth in this world, but for the change to enter the kingdom that comes in the next." He said softly; and as he stared into her eyes he saw the tears start to form. His scowl was unwavering but he could not feel too much anger as the woman fought with tears, what she was thinking about he did not know, but it was disarming to see a woman cry.
He grunted slightly; and sighed looking at her. Orran glanced over at the heavy door and then turned his gaze back to her; his face softened immensely when she mentioned the children. "You need not ask, of course I will escort you wherever you need to go." He glanced towards the door again "I am sure you understand the beauty in children, it is pure innocence, unbridled, they are like stars in the darkness to me. So much death, we get so many orphans Sigrid, and some how most of them find a way to smile through the grief."
He paused for a moment and swallowed "Go ahead and get them ready I will be out here waiting."
*Cough* Just going to leave this here *Cough*
and YAY Post is up, it's not huge but we have some progression!
Collaboration between Jinxer and Constable_Walrus
Healing House, Wilfred/Anndrais
Anndrais watched the scene with horror, he had seen terrible things before, awful horrible things, but this? This would have made Christ himself weep at the cruelty these dogs showed the poor girl; and after denying the woman to assist he finally stepped forward and seeing Vigi cruelly beaten he stepped forward angrily "Enough!" He shouted tired of these games of false god's they truly wish to see the might of a God? then he would show him the power his possessed, not just of kindness and compassion, but of furious retribution.
"I grow tired of these games, You think your gods are powerful? Are strong? So you condemn an innocent girl to the flame out of cruelty and madness?" He was in luck he was not wearing the heavy robe; and he took off his undershirt he wore, Tora still being wrapped in his robes "I will go in, call it a test, if I can pass through the flames, get the girl, and the Pict back. Then it shows my God has more strength than you give credit, if I am wrong, I will die, and you will be rid of me... Accept, and let us test the strength of your god's of war, or refuse and show those around you how much stock you truly put in your gods power."
He glared at Harald "So let me through, if you think you have enough stock to play a hand, what do you have to lose other than getting rid of me forever?" Anndrais clenched his hands and prayed quietly, the truth was he was frightened, and scared. But Christ walked with him, and if he should die, it was all in his plan, and his way.
As Anndrais confronted Harald, the huge Saxon loomed behind him holding a woodcutter's axe; left lying on the ground having been knocked over by those fleeing the Draugr inside the Healing House. He slowly walked past, still cradling a carefully balanced Tora in one arm and holding the axe in his other.
"As I understand it, the Pict and I are now possessions of Ragnar which means that currently you are endangering the property of Ragnar. As a fellow thrall it is my responsibility to do what I can to protect my master's property from harm." He planted himself firmly in front of the door with the axe held low but the blade pointed towards the crowd and Harald's men.
Harald himself stared hard at the two Christians; he could not risk another provocation with the Ragnars and the Saxon slave had a good grasp of his position and was using his enslavement against Harald. The priest, however, was free to wander, Harald could force him to stop as he was a free man and no Dane in the fort would miss a Christian priest but to do so in front of a crowd would merely taint his own name.
"Go. When you return you will be checked for injuries, if there's a single bite on any one of you then you will all return to the flames."
"If anyone here attempts to block the priest or tries to seal them inside I will carry out my responsibilities upon them."
[Healing House, Interior]
Inside the Healing House Robbie searched desperately for the girl amongst the flames and smoke. Already his eyes were streaming and the rag he had torn from his clothing to cover his mouth was not helping the smokey air entering his lungs; he had to escape from here soon or they'd both end up death. The Draugr had retreated from the flames, for the most part but were eyeing Robbie hungrily as he looked for the girl.
"Scared of the flames of Hell are ye, undead bastards?" He growled in his thick accent. Then he spotted the girl and hurried towards her, as fast as his injuries would let him. She was still alive, although unconscious. After checking her for any Draugr bites the Pict picked her up and turned to go when a creaking followed by a splintering sound had him freeze and look up. A flaming beam was hurtling towards them both. Reacting on instinct he slung the girl towards the door just as the beam descended on his head.
[Healing House, Exterior]
Anndrais rolled his shoulders and kept his hard stare at Harald, luckly he had taken the bait, enough time for him to maybe save both Robbie and the little girl; he narrowed his eyes at Harald "It is settled then... We will show you the power of Christ and save those you have cast into the flames." He turned quickly eying the Saxon with the girl in his arms and he spoke quickly in Latin, so the Danes around them would not understand him.
"Keep Tora safe, I will go in, God willing the poor child is still alive, I will be back shortly." Anndrais paused for a moment before speaking to him softly again "If the flames consume me, try to temper Orran's fury... He will be unchained and ready to kill any who had a hand in my death if it comes to that. Tell him that I kneel before Christ now, and that my pain would be gone." Anndrais rushed towards the door, and slammed into it, busting it open and the hot flames licked out as the monk disappeared inside rushing through them, He was met with intense heat and thick black smoke; and he lowered himself to see and breathe a little better. and he brought a hand to his face to shield some of the bright orange light.
Anndrais noticed two things at first; a small figure by the door, unmoving and he went to it quickly looking over the small child, she was still breathing 'by God's graces she was alright' he thought and turned his gaze upward seeing the Dragur; the undead had eyed him the second he burst through the door; the only thing seporating the two was a wall of fire between the dead and their meal, their eyes hungry and gnawing and gnashing their teeth, as they backed away from the fire. Anndrais shook his head quickly and scooped up the girl, cradling her in his arms; and sprinted back through the flames in the doorway; coughing slightly and laying her gently on the sleet covered ground "Wilfred! Help the girl, i'm going in for Robbie!" Anndrais gently let go of the small child, and rushed back inside, venturing further into the burning longhouse this time.
Anndrais could see little through the worsening smoke and flames as fire consumed the wooden longhouse as if it was kindling; the fire intensified, as it went on, and he searched the ground for Robbie, calling out his name, eventually finding a collapsed beam with a figure beneath it; Anndrais rushed forward looking him over; it was the pict alright, but the heavy beam lay over him; keeping him pinned, and he looked as if he was out cold. The beam was scorched and still ablaze, and Anndrais breathed slowly, and attempted to find a grip on the heavy beam; crouching down lightly; finally finding a spot where he could grip it; Anndrais, gave a quick prayer to God for strength in his head; as he attempted to lift the beam off Robbie.
The beam lifted off of him, enough for Anndrais to toss aside, and get it off of the small Pict, and He knelt hear Robbie, moving his arms under his and cradling his upper body. His world was starting to get hazy, and he was running out of air and struggling to breathe; he had a vague thought of Orran, and of home; lasy dying images of something happy in a cursed place such as this; Anndrais shook his head and started to pull Robbie out of the building lifting the man up more as he dragged his lower body across the ground. Christ be praised it was not the Saxon who went in. and he dragged Robbie out into the snow; and after clearing the doorway Anndrais collapsed with the man still in his arms.
"Go with the grace of God, brother." Wilfred replied in Latin, moving to cross himself but gave it up as futile, unwilling to put down either Tora or the axe. Instead he kept his position in front of the door, planted firmly with the axe held ready to cave in the skull of anyone foolish enough to test him. He caught sight of the beaten Vigi and thought back to the debt he felt towards the man, whether he was a pagan priest or not he had proved himself to be a good man.
"When they return they will need to be checked for bite marks to ensure they are not infected." Wilfred began, speaking loudly so the gathered could hear. "Only a man of integrity... with knowledge of healing could perform this." He lingered after speaking of integrity, staring down Harald and his men, before turning his head slowly and deliberately to look at Vigi. He had spent years looking after his congregation and inspiring them with God's teachings; he knew how to control a crowd. As expected, they followed his line of sight.
"The seidrmadr, the one you turn to for God's guidance and to cure your ills is the only man who has both of these qualities. He will be the one to check their injuries." Wilfred hefted the axe onto his shoulder, drawing attention to the weapon in a non-threatening manner. Only a fool would not be aware of their own size and its impact when as large as the Saxon; it would take a brave and foolish man to argue with him now.
Just as he finished speaking Anndrais returned with the child and, a few long moments later, with Robbie. The Pict was worse for wear with a heavily bloodied head and his red hair singed around the wound near the rear of his skull. Wilfred's knowledge of medicine was rudimentary but sufficient enough to see the damage; akin to a man whose armour had not protected him from an axe's blow fully and partly caved in his skull. Ignoring his desire to kneel by the Pict, Wilfred stood his ground and waited for Anndrais to catch his breath.
"They're both here, come and check them over now." Wilfred spoke to Vigi while staring hard at Harald. Half a dozen guards stood between them but the false thegn would remember when they had first enslaved the huge Saxon; he had more than just his fists this time and Harald had fewer guards.
Healing House, Wilfred/Anndrais
Anndrais watched the scene with horror, he had seen terrible things before, awful horrible things, but this? This would have made Christ himself weep at the cruelty these dogs showed the poor girl; and after denying the woman to assist he finally stepped forward and seeing Vigi cruelly beaten he stepped forward angrily "Enough!" He shouted tired of these games of false god's they truly wish to see the might of a God? then he would show him the power his possessed, not just of kindness and compassion, but of furious retribution.
"I grow tired of these games, You think your gods are powerful? Are strong? So you condemn an innocent girl to the flame out of cruelty and madness?" He was in luck he was not wearing the heavy robe; and he took off his undershirt he wore, Tora still being wrapped in his robes "I will go in, call it a test, if I can pass through the flames, get the girl, and the Pict back. Then it shows my God has more strength than you give credit, if I am wrong, I will die, and you will be rid of me... Accept, and let us test the strength of your god's of war, or refuse and show those around you how much stock you truly put in your gods power."
He glared at Harald "So let me through, if you think you have enough stock to play a hand, what do you have to lose other than getting rid of me forever?" Anndrais clenched his hands and prayed quietly, the truth was he was frightened, and scared. But Christ walked with him, and if he should die, it was all in his plan, and his way.
As Anndrais confronted Harald, the huge Saxon loomed behind him holding a woodcutter's axe; left lying on the ground having been knocked over by those fleeing the Draugr inside the Healing House. He slowly walked past, still cradling a carefully balanced Tora in one arm and holding the axe in his other.
"As I understand it, the Pict and I are now possessions of Ragnar which means that currently you are endangering the property of Ragnar. As a fellow thrall it is my responsibility to do what I can to protect my master's property from harm." He planted himself firmly in front of the door with the axe held low but the blade pointed towards the crowd and Harald's men.
Harald himself stared hard at the two Christians; he could not risk another provocation with the Ragnars and the Saxon slave had a good grasp of his position and was using his enslavement against Harald. The priest, however, was free to wander, Harald could force him to stop as he was a free man and no Dane in the fort would miss a Christian priest but to do so in front of a crowd would merely taint his own name.
"Go. When you return you will be checked for injuries, if there's a single bite on any one of you then you will all return to the flames."
"If anyone here attempts to block the priest or tries to seal them inside I will carry out my responsibilities upon them."
[Healing House, Interior]
Inside the Healing House Robbie searched desperately for the girl amongst the flames and smoke. Already his eyes were streaming and the rag he had torn from his clothing to cover his mouth was not helping the smokey air entering his lungs; he had to escape from here soon or they'd both end up death. The Draugr had retreated from the flames, for the most part but were eyeing Robbie hungrily as he looked for the girl.
"Scared of the flames of Hell are ye, undead bastards?" He growled in his thick accent. Then he spotted the girl and hurried towards her, as fast as his injuries would let him. She was still alive, although unconscious. After checking her for any Draugr bites the Pict picked her up and turned to go when a creaking followed by a splintering sound had him freeze and look up. A flaming beam was hurtling towards them both. Reacting on instinct he slung the girl towards the door just as the beam descended on his head.
[Healing House, Exterior]
Anndrais rolled his shoulders and kept his hard stare at Harald, luckly he had taken the bait, enough time for him to maybe save both Robbie and the little girl; he narrowed his eyes at Harald "It is settled then... We will show you the power of Christ and save those you have cast into the flames." He turned quickly eying the Saxon with the girl in his arms and he spoke quickly in Latin, so the Danes around them would not understand him.
"Keep Tora safe, I will go in, God willing the poor child is still alive, I will be back shortly." Anndrais paused for a moment before speaking to him softly again "If the flames consume me, try to temper Orran's fury... He will be unchained and ready to kill any who had a hand in my death if it comes to that. Tell him that I kneel before Christ now, and that my pain would be gone." Anndrais rushed towards the door, and slammed into it, busting it open and the hot flames licked out as the monk disappeared inside rushing through them, He was met with intense heat and thick black smoke; and he lowered himself to see and breathe a little better. and he brought a hand to his face to shield some of the bright orange light.
Anndrais noticed two things at first; a small figure by the door, unmoving and he went to it quickly looking over the small child, she was still breathing 'by God's graces she was alright' he thought and turned his gaze upward seeing the Dragur; the undead had eyed him the second he burst through the door; the only thing seporating the two was a wall of fire between the dead and their meal, their eyes hungry and gnawing and gnashing their teeth, as they backed away from the fire. Anndrais shook his head quickly and scooped up the girl, cradling her in his arms; and sprinted back through the flames in the doorway; coughing slightly and laying her gently on the sleet covered ground "Wilfred! Help the girl, i'm going in for Robbie!" Anndrais gently let go of the small child, and rushed back inside, venturing further into the burning longhouse this time.
Anndrais could see little through the worsening smoke and flames as fire consumed the wooden longhouse as if it was kindling; the fire intensified, as it went on, and he searched the ground for Robbie, calling out his name, eventually finding a collapsed beam with a figure beneath it; Anndrais rushed forward looking him over; it was the pict alright, but the heavy beam lay over him; keeping him pinned, and he looked as if he was out cold. The beam was scorched and still ablaze, and Anndrais breathed slowly, and attempted to find a grip on the heavy beam; crouching down lightly; finally finding a spot where he could grip it; Anndrais, gave a quick prayer to God for strength in his head; as he attempted to lift the beam off Robbie.
The beam lifted off of him, enough for Anndrais to toss aside, and get it off of the small Pict, and He knelt hear Robbie, moving his arms under his and cradling his upper body. His world was starting to get hazy, and he was running out of air and struggling to breathe; he had a vague thought of Orran, and of home; lasy dying images of something happy in a cursed place such as this; Anndrais shook his head and started to pull Robbie out of the building lifting the man up more as he dragged his lower body across the ground. Christ be praised it was not the Saxon who went in. and he dragged Robbie out into the snow; and after clearing the doorway Anndrais collapsed with the man still in his arms.
"Go with the grace of God, brother." Wilfred replied in Latin, moving to cross himself but gave it up as futile, unwilling to put down either Tora or the axe. Instead he kept his position in front of the door, planted firmly with the axe held ready to cave in the skull of anyone foolish enough to test him. He caught sight of the beaten Vigi and thought back to the debt he felt towards the man, whether he was a pagan priest or not he had proved himself to be a good man.
"When they return they will need to be checked for bite marks to ensure they are not infected." Wilfred began, speaking loudly so the gathered could hear. "Only a man of integrity... with knowledge of healing could perform this." He lingered after speaking of integrity, staring down Harald and his men, before turning his head slowly and deliberately to look at Vigi. He had spent years looking after his congregation and inspiring them with God's teachings; he knew how to control a crowd. As expected, they followed his line of sight.
"The seidrmadr, the one you turn to for God's guidance and to cure your ills is the only man who has both of these qualities. He will be the one to check their injuries." Wilfred hefted the axe onto his shoulder, drawing attention to the weapon in a non-threatening manner. Only a fool would not be aware of their own size and its impact when as large as the Saxon; it would take a brave and foolish man to argue with him now.
Just as he finished speaking Anndrais returned with the child and, a few long moments later, with Robbie. The Pict was worse for wear with a heavily bloodied head and his red hair singed around the wound near the rear of his skull. Wilfred's knowledge of medicine was rudimentary but sufficient enough to see the damage; akin to a man whose armour had not protected him from an axe's blow fully and partly caved in his skull. Ignoring his desire to kneel by the Pict, Wilfred stood his ground and waited for Anndrais to catch his breath.
"They're both here, come and check them over now." Wilfred spoke to Vigi while staring hard at Harald. Half a dozen guards stood between them but the false thegn would remember when they had first enslaved the huge Saxon; he had more than just his fists this time and Harald had fewer guards.
Me and jinxer are going to start a collab to post, but it'll have to wait until tuesday, sorry everyone.
It's up to Jinxer wether he wants someone to stop him from jumping into pretty much certain death or not.
collab between Constable Walrus, Kuro, and idlehands
Mid Morning, Healing House
It happened so fast, they burned with fever, their wounds festered black and then they died. The girl watched her father writhe in the bed, her small hands gripping his as he foamed and gargled on his last breath. The shouts of the others, took her attention away momentarily as she looked back to where the pale haired healer ran to the aid of a wailing woman. The girl watched in horror as the man stabbed her husband who was sitting up, a miracle after his apparent death. She felt her father reach for her, his clammy hand gripping her wrist with a strength he had not had hours before. She turned, joy flaming in her heart that he was getting better and would not meet the end Tofi had, as long as the crazed seidrmadr stayed away.
“Fadir, thank the gods, you’re bet-” her words were cut off as her father sunk his teeth into her neck, hot blood rushing over his blue lips. Her blue eyes registered shock and confusion before they went blank as her father ripped her throat out in his primal hunger.
Faolan watched the sudden and unexpected violence erupt around him, as men lurched from their beds, groping and seizing at their loved ones who had attended them. He saw a girl get her throat ripped out, another woman her arm nearly ripped from her shoulder as her husband growled and glared with cold dead eyes, filled with that same hunger he had seen in every draugr he had the displeasure of facing.
“Goddamn them,” he swore, gripping his spear and looking toward Anndrais and Wilfred as the big man got out of his bed to fetch Tora.
Tora wanted to scream and run but her body refused to respond. She watched the bloody scene unfold with dull grey eyes, unable to react with the herbal pain medicine still flowing in her body. She turned to see the monk react and felt the hands of the priest lift her out of her bed. Her mouth felt dry and she could not speak as the world swirled around her, red and angry, the stench of pus, death and blood filling her senses.
Anndrais stood quickly; as he watched the scene, some horror in his eyes; he had seen much in his short time, but this was more than horrid. As Wilfred grasped the small woman he muttered to him, “Be careful with her.”
And he stood and went to his bow that was along the wall, and slung an arrow and notched it pulling it back and watching for a clear shot; at this range the arrow would pierce through a body granted it did not hit bone.
Anndrais stood back slightly and watched for a shot; as the corpse gnarled from disease stopped and glared towards them shambling to his feet slowly and he snarled at them his face covered in his own daughters blood; Anndrais let the arrow fly, a swift sound as the string snapped back the barbed arrow flying into the man's forehead and the sharp crack of bone; followed by the draugr body going limp over the corpse of the little girl.
Anndrais quickly notched another and glanced around looking for another shot.
Mid Morning, Healing House
It happened so fast, they burned with fever, their wounds festered black and then they died. The girl watched her father writhe in the bed, her small hands gripping his as he foamed and gargled on his last breath. The shouts of the others, took her attention away momentarily as she looked back to where the pale haired healer ran to the aid of a wailing woman. The girl watched in horror as the man stabbed her husband who was sitting up, a miracle after his apparent death. She felt her father reach for her, his clammy hand gripping her wrist with a strength he had not had hours before. She turned, joy flaming in her heart that he was getting better and would not meet the end Tofi had, as long as the crazed seidrmadr stayed away.
“Fadir, thank the gods, you’re bet-” her words were cut off as her father sunk his teeth into her neck, hot blood rushing over his blue lips. Her blue eyes registered shock and confusion before they went blank as her father ripped her throat out in his primal hunger.
Faolan watched the sudden and unexpected violence erupt around him, as men lurched from their beds, groping and seizing at their loved ones who had attended them. He saw a girl get her throat ripped out, another woman her arm nearly ripped from her shoulder as her husband growled and glared with cold dead eyes, filled with that same hunger he had seen in every draugr he had the displeasure of facing.
“Goddamn them,” he swore, gripping his spear and looking toward Anndrais and Wilfred as the big man got out of his bed to fetch Tora.
Tora wanted to scream and run but her body refused to respond. She watched the bloody scene unfold with dull grey eyes, unable to react with the herbal pain medicine still flowing in her body. She turned to see the monk react and felt the hands of the priest lift her out of her bed. Her mouth felt dry and she could not speak as the world swirled around her, red and angry, the stench of pus, death and blood filling her senses.
Anndrais stood quickly; as he watched the scene, some horror in his eyes; he had seen much in his short time, but this was more than horrid. As Wilfred grasped the small woman he muttered to him, “Be careful with her.”
And he stood and went to his bow that was along the wall, and slung an arrow and notched it pulling it back and watching for a clear shot; at this range the arrow would pierce through a body granted it did not hit bone.
Anndrais stood back slightly and watched for a shot; as the corpse gnarled from disease stopped and glared towards them shambling to his feet slowly and he snarled at them his face covered in his own daughters blood; Anndrais let the arrow fly, a swift sound as the string snapped back the barbed arrow flying into the man's forehead and the sharp crack of bone; followed by the draugr body going limp over the corpse of the little girl.
Anndrais quickly notched another and glanced around looking for another shot.
New IC Posted! A Collab from myself and Igraine!
collaboration between Igraine and Constable Walrus Continued
As for Eyja? Well she was already fairly enthralled with the one grown man in the world, whose imagination seemed near so big as her own, who magically wore the aspects of Geri and Freki on his face, and could make pictures of labyrinths and whorls with his magically-talented hands. And if Orran said he fought some great bald dragon for their paper and ink tonight? Oh, she was more than ready to believe him, this magical man who as brave and skilled with a pen as with a sword, than any raider she’d ever seen!
Even Raudr and Ranulf’s Fadir! Well… Not that she’d ever tell them that, because it’d just be a great big fight - even if she was right. Still, better not to have hard words. Raudr really was pretty nice when he wasn’t trying so hard to be his Fadir. And Ranulf was actually a lot of fun to play with, and he really listened to Eyja, all her words, like he really did find her interesting - well, when he wasn’t busy worrying and thinking too hard on things like how to stop his brother from trying too hard to be like his Fadir again.
Besides, Tore liked him lots too.
The little girl had established earlier in the great Hall that she was a very good cup bearer, likely the very best in all of Trelleborg! Loker himself had given her his endorsement, and not a drop split! No, not a one! And she could work just as hard as her elder sister and mother - she was far more her mother’s daughter, than indolent little Tore the kitten after all. And so she lay the lazy creature tenderly, so lovingly by the fire and made to bring a wooden bowl - the best they had - to what would be Orran’s seat at their small table. She smiled up at him proudly, showing him that she too could earn her place in this family, and in Orran’s eyes as well.
Orran rose one of his dark eyebrows when Hallerna spoke of Svala and he looked towards the young woman who was blushing; and had the widest smile on her face. He matched the smile setting down his pack carefully before fully moving inside their small living space; He watched Svala for a moment and he grinded his teeth slightly in thought before speaking. “Is that so Svala? I mean ‘Sparrow’.”
He smiled wide, he might seem as if he gave the woman a hard time, but it meant he cared enough to secretly give her a hard time; and he sat down gently at the table and glanced up at Svala “So I’ll have much more to look forward too, and here I was thinking it stopped at bread,” he said with a smile; and leaned back slightly in his seat.
Impressed, was a word that hardly came from Orran’s thoughts when speaking of someone, he was very critical, especially when it came to combat. But impressed he was, more so now seeing more of her; and he had pinpointed the moment in memory when Svala got his attention. There she stood bloody and holding an axe, instead of just running, she wished to help him. Bravery and Honor he mused to himself as he gazed at Svala.
He turned his gaze from Svala; which in the line of thought he was in was no small feat, and brought it to Hallerna “I wanted to thank you again for offering a meal with you and your family Hallerna, I am honored.” He smiled warmly but his attention was suddenly caught by Eyja holding a bowl of mead in her hands bringing it to him.
He took the bowl gently and set it in front of him; and he turned back to her with a smile. “And not a single drop spilt!” he mused and gave Eyja a hug pulling back with a smile “Excellent, now I can see the entire picture,” and he gave her a gentle press on the nose with his finger.
He looked up at Hallerna. “You have a lovely family,” Orran spoke aloud with a smile
The elder woman’s smile widened slowly as she turned from the hearth, back to the table where her daughters busied themselves tending to their honored guest. “Yes, I do,” she agreed with a nod, not the least boast or immodesty on her lips. Hallerna herself gathered up the bowl of water, bringing it to Orran as he stood by the table, to offer him the opportunity to wash his face and hands if he would.
“And the honor is ours, completely, Orran. I will never forget that the reason I still have this ‘lovely family,’ is in large part because of you, and what you did this night. Please, come, sit with us here.”
Eyja crawled up into her own seat after setting a bowl of mead by her mother’s spot, a lighter version by Svala’s place and then, by her own, the drink that was far more water than mead of course - though she liked it just fine nonetheless. She felt almost a grown-up when she was allowed this on special occasions, like tonight, when they had Orran come to visit for dinner.
Svala moved exactly as she’d seen her mother almost every day of her life, serving her father, her brother and uncles and cousins with a dignified poise that was equal parts grace and long habit. The hot stew, and then the bread to eat it with, alongside the strongest mead they had to serve, first for Orran and then for their small family. The very best part of their first offerings had been given to Frig and Freya before the Christian arrived, in thanksgiving.
“Well, yes… I mean, it is so Orran. You know Madir had so much to do today,” she began softly, her voice gathering strength with every word past her lips. “She was with all of you men in the village today, and then on to the unloading the supplies found - and then to the healing house right thereafter. Well she’d have precious little time to eat, much less cook, and so… “ Svala shrugged, meeting Orran’s laughing gaze with her own deep blue eyes. “Well, we all do what we can, don’t we? For the ones we care for? Like you and Anndrais, I imagine, all these miles from your home.”
Orran sat; and he watched Svala carefully how she gracefully moved around the table, serving everyone he had nodded at no particular question or statement and suddenly said out loud “Yes, you’d definitely suit a sword…” He shook his head suddenly and chuckled, meeting Svala’s gaze with his dark eyes “Apologies, I was thinking of something very important.”
He shifted, and listening to Svala he nodded, placing his hands in the bowl to wash his face and hands gently; and he looked up at Hallerna “Thank you…” He turned to the rest of the family “All of you for making me seem so welcomed in your home.” And he breathed out a heavy breath and returned his gaze to Svala. “That is very kind of you for your mother Svala, not only a good head but a good heart it fits.” He stated promptly his dark eyes met her blue before he spoke again “Svala, at your words and actions I am more than impressed… And that is very true, but Anndrais came not for his own benefit, he came with the attempt to stop the violence.”
Orran leaned back and glanced around at the family before him. “Though that is a topic of another time, I am here, presented with good food and excellent company. Such dour talk is not for an hour such as this.” He stated and the smile returned to his features; and he drew his gaze to Hallerna. “You have a very strong daughter Hallerna, it echoes my own people very much. Strong are the women of my people, warriors as the men are.”
Orran straightened himself as he spoke “Svala has skill, I can see it… Raw potential,” he said softly and shot a sidelong glance at Svala before returning his gaze to Hallerna “As much as I joke about bread and food, and how lovely the ‘swallow’ is.” He smiled softly “She has so much potential to be even more.”
Hallerna eased herself into her chair, golden eyebrows knit curiously as she looked at Orran curiously as he spoke. “I don’t understand… What more should she be? Svala is already… Svala?” Her gaze turned from their guest to her eldest daughter, just finishing her serving and taking her seat. She was a beautiful girl, smart and hard-working, and if the lovingly crafted bearded axe leaning against the wall now beside her mother’s own well-worn blade was any indication? Oh, she was certainly brave as any ten men, courageous and steadfast. But she was a farmer’s daughter after all, and though Hallerna loved the girl with all she had, Orran’s words were simply impervious to her understanding.
Svala looked to Orran with a smile, perhaps a little less perplexed than her mother though she wondered nonetheless. She at least had seen him fight, defend the Ragnarsson children and Eyja and even herself, though they were none of his own. But he’d likely already witnessed her humiliating attempt, all off-balance and sent akimbo with Sigrid’s spear, the escape from that vile man that almost felt more luck than any natural skill of her own.
The young woman chewed her lip softly though she smiled still, a small, self-deprecating laugh escaping her. “Would you make a shieldmaiden of me, Orran?” she asked, realizing halfway through the words that some small part of the young woman genuinely, truly and desperately hoped that was exactly what he meant.
Orran looked at Hallerna carefully. “As in more skilled; she showed more courage and bravery in one look than I’ve seen in awhile.” He turned his gaze to Svala and spoke “She held that bearded axe in her hand, and was covered and blood…” He said softly keeping his gaze on her intently, “If I would have called you would have came to my aid, I knew you wished to help me, aid me… That act enough, to save a stranger, tells me plenty.”
He kept his eyes on Svala as she chewed her lip, and nodded “If this term means some sort of warrior woman, than yes… I would.” He glanced over at Hallerna the smile replace by his stern look “It is not base skill, or body type, or talent that makes a defender, a protector, it’s courage beyond measure the heart to defend the innocent. Those who need it the most.” And he rolled his shoulders and glanced at Hallerna. “So I ask to train your daughter, build her up, strengthen her. She has the heart and mind for it, she just needs training.”
And Orran glanced down at his food before drawing his gaze directly to Svala.
Svala met his dark gaze with her own steady, thoughtful eyes, gaining confidence with every word, a pleasure that didn’t raise the color to her cheeks or the child-like smile to her lips, but something deeper, older, a hint really, a small promise of the woman to rise in the years to come, should any one of them survive Trelleborg. Without a word, she nodded her assent to Orran, before turning to look to her mother who would, by all counts in their world, be the end all word for whether she would or no as the head of their small family.
Hallerna’s chin had come to rest in the palm of her hand, propped up on the table as Orran spoke, taking in every last word he said and weighing it as thoroughly and unsparingly, as only the wise wife of a farmer could ever do. The chaff from the grain, she sifted those words and, after her own careful consideration, finally gave voice to the thoughts in her head.
“You would teach my daughter to be a warrior Orran? Before today, I admit, I would have laughed in your face - but there is a great deal of this world I’d have long considered impossible that has come to pass, and the idea that today Svala would have to kill a man in the very streets of Trelleborg, in the shadow of the Jarl’s Hall? Oh, that would certainly be one of those ‘impossible things.’”
“But you should know, and I tell you nothing either of my girls don’t already know - we’ve no way to pay you for this, even if Svala does show an aptitude with a blade. Her brave heart is never a question - she’s got the very heart of a bear. But most everything we ever had, was left on our farm when the draugr came - what you see here, is all we’ve got.”
“And yes, I know… I saw Anndrais’ reaction when Sigrid tried to offer him coin in payment for what good he’d done poor Tora - I offer you no insult in the offering, Orran. You are foreign to us, and there is no disservice in saying we are a proud people - not beggars. I hope my meaning is clear?” Hallerna said with a genuine smile as she sat back in her chair, deep blue eyes still lit on Orran.
Orran listened to Hallerna intently, as much as he wished to train the girl, the mother had to at least approve; and when she spoke of Anndrais’ he finally spoke up “I seek nothing for the training of Svala, save her company during the training. As for Anndrais, you mistake him, the insult was not for the coin. But for the reason the coin was given, do not mistake that for a martyrdom of sorts. He is difficult for even myself to grasp at times.”
His gaze was kept on Hallerna’s blue eyes. “So I understand the world we live in, things change, and we adapt.” He glanced at Svala and smiled. “Heart of a bear? I can see that, or a wolf.” He smiled and turned back to Hallerna. [b]“So Hallerna, I do wish to train your daughter, and if you really must ask of me to take a payment for this service, then if you would welcome me back to your humble home, then I would enjoy that very much.”
He leaned back in his chair and eyed Eyja with a smile “Have to keep coming back to visit the little one.” And his eyes grew brighter, and his smile wider as he spoke. “I have a promise to keep. Isn't that right Eyja?”
Eyja’s head turned up to Orran, wide-eyed and a little startled at the sound of her name, both her hands firmly planted beneath the table, absolutely not holding Tore the kitten in her lap, giving him a surreptitious nibble of a piece of her stew meat while his raspy little tongue licked the stew broth from her fingers. “Yes you do, Orran,” she chirped in quickly, because Eyja was quick and clever, and even in her silent moments that mind of hers never stopped - and there was rarely ever a conversation that child’s ears couldn’t follow, whether she would or no.
And she really had been following as the older people spoke, and Eyja knew very well that little twinge in her belly was a pang of jealousy. Raudr and Ranulf both got to play with wooden swords - and someday they’d have real ones! But they were boys, one day men, and… Well, that was just the way of things, she supposed. But now Orran, her very own Wolf Man and slayer of bald dragons, the master of paper and ink and whorls and swirls, was going to teach Svala to be a warrior if Madir said she might?
Well, in truth - and Eyja was really a very good girl, and tried to be truthful in all matters - she envied Svala something fierce, the chance to fight like a boy. But as deep as the envy might go, the love for her older sister went further still, and Eyja knew she’d had treat enough, learning to write and draw on real paper, with real ink, with her painted man.
“Can I at least come watch? You teaching Svala all that fighting… Ummm… Stuff?” If sticks were good enough for drawing in the snow, well… There was nothing to say she could pretend, was there?
As intently as Hallerna had listened to Orran’s proposition in the first place, so too did she listen to his explanation, and finally nodded her approval. “As you will Orran - and of course, as Svala will as well, though that light in her eyes right now tells me all I’ll ever need to know of her answer to that question.” she added with a small, warm laugh, as much for Svala’s eagerness as for Eyja’s sweet, hopeful question.
“Though she’d best not forget that tomorrow morning we move on to the Jarl’s hall. We were invited by the housekarl, and I accepted - it seemed wise, and the offer genuine, and would take some of the worry from my heart, if I’m honest, after all that’s happened this day. But I’ll not forget you Orran, nor Anndrais - a deal is a deal after all. And Svala will absolutely have to finish her work before she begins practice - and I sent them to Freya in the first place because I know she’ll see them set to needful tasks!”
“Even so Svala, are these terms acceptable to you, sweetling?”
Svala needed no kind of pushing at all, for once the young, inward-turning girl’s voice leapt to the fore. “Yes! Please Orran yes - when can we start?”
Orran smiled warmly at Hallerna and nodded “I didn’t think you would…” He glanced over at Ejya “And that would be your mothers decision little one.” and he laughed gently as Svala burst out with her admission and he eyed the young woman.
“Good, I enjoy the enthusiasm, I say we can start in two days time or so, if that is good for you. I have to prepare some things for the training, but other than that we are set to go very soon.” He rolled his shoulders and nodded with a smile before settling back to eat some more of the stew and gazing at Svala for a moment before speaking again.
“In either case it would be an honor to train you Svala.” He turned his gaze to Hallerna. “I will take good care of her, and I am sure you will be as pleased as I am already with her skill, even under pressure.”
He brought his gaze back to Svala “Be ready Svala, I will not take training easy on you, because I know you can take it.” He smiled softly and gave her a wink.
As for Eyja? Well she was already fairly enthralled with the one grown man in the world, whose imagination seemed near so big as her own, who magically wore the aspects of Geri and Freki on his face, and could make pictures of labyrinths and whorls with his magically-talented hands. And if Orran said he fought some great bald dragon for their paper and ink tonight? Oh, she was more than ready to believe him, this magical man who as brave and skilled with a pen as with a sword, than any raider she’d ever seen!
Even Raudr and Ranulf’s Fadir! Well… Not that she’d ever tell them that, because it’d just be a great big fight - even if she was right. Still, better not to have hard words. Raudr really was pretty nice when he wasn’t trying so hard to be his Fadir. And Ranulf was actually a lot of fun to play with, and he really listened to Eyja, all her words, like he really did find her interesting - well, when he wasn’t busy worrying and thinking too hard on things like how to stop his brother from trying too hard to be like his Fadir again.
Besides, Tore liked him lots too.
The little girl had established earlier in the great Hall that she was a very good cup bearer, likely the very best in all of Trelleborg! Loker himself had given her his endorsement, and not a drop split! No, not a one! And she could work just as hard as her elder sister and mother - she was far more her mother’s daughter, than indolent little Tore the kitten after all. And so she lay the lazy creature tenderly, so lovingly by the fire and made to bring a wooden bowl - the best they had - to what would be Orran’s seat at their small table. She smiled up at him proudly, showing him that she too could earn her place in this family, and in Orran’s eyes as well.
Orran rose one of his dark eyebrows when Hallerna spoke of Svala and he looked towards the young woman who was blushing; and had the widest smile on her face. He matched the smile setting down his pack carefully before fully moving inside their small living space; He watched Svala for a moment and he grinded his teeth slightly in thought before speaking. “Is that so Svala? I mean ‘Sparrow’.”
He smiled wide, he might seem as if he gave the woman a hard time, but it meant he cared enough to secretly give her a hard time; and he sat down gently at the table and glanced up at Svala “So I’ll have much more to look forward too, and here I was thinking it stopped at bread,” he said with a smile; and leaned back slightly in his seat.
Impressed, was a word that hardly came from Orran’s thoughts when speaking of someone, he was very critical, especially when it came to combat. But impressed he was, more so now seeing more of her; and he had pinpointed the moment in memory when Svala got his attention. There she stood bloody and holding an axe, instead of just running, she wished to help him. Bravery and Honor he mused to himself as he gazed at Svala.
He turned his gaze from Svala; which in the line of thought he was in was no small feat, and brought it to Hallerna “I wanted to thank you again for offering a meal with you and your family Hallerna, I am honored.” He smiled warmly but his attention was suddenly caught by Eyja holding a bowl of mead in her hands bringing it to him.
He took the bowl gently and set it in front of him; and he turned back to her with a smile. “And not a single drop spilt!” he mused and gave Eyja a hug pulling back with a smile “Excellent, now I can see the entire picture,” and he gave her a gentle press on the nose with his finger.
He looked up at Hallerna. “You have a lovely family,” Orran spoke aloud with a smile
The elder woman’s smile widened slowly as she turned from the hearth, back to the table where her daughters busied themselves tending to their honored guest. “Yes, I do,” she agreed with a nod, not the least boast or immodesty on her lips. Hallerna herself gathered up the bowl of water, bringing it to Orran as he stood by the table, to offer him the opportunity to wash his face and hands if he would.
“And the honor is ours, completely, Orran. I will never forget that the reason I still have this ‘lovely family,’ is in large part because of you, and what you did this night. Please, come, sit with us here.”
Eyja crawled up into her own seat after setting a bowl of mead by her mother’s spot, a lighter version by Svala’s place and then, by her own, the drink that was far more water than mead of course - though she liked it just fine nonetheless. She felt almost a grown-up when she was allowed this on special occasions, like tonight, when they had Orran come to visit for dinner.
Svala moved exactly as she’d seen her mother almost every day of her life, serving her father, her brother and uncles and cousins with a dignified poise that was equal parts grace and long habit. The hot stew, and then the bread to eat it with, alongside the strongest mead they had to serve, first for Orran and then for their small family. The very best part of their first offerings had been given to Frig and Freya before the Christian arrived, in thanksgiving.
“Well, yes… I mean, it is so Orran. You know Madir had so much to do today,” she began softly, her voice gathering strength with every word past her lips. “She was with all of you men in the village today, and then on to the unloading the supplies found - and then to the healing house right thereafter. Well she’d have precious little time to eat, much less cook, and so… “ Svala shrugged, meeting Orran’s laughing gaze with her own deep blue eyes. “Well, we all do what we can, don’t we? For the ones we care for? Like you and Anndrais, I imagine, all these miles from your home.”
Orran sat; and he watched Svala carefully how she gracefully moved around the table, serving everyone he had nodded at no particular question or statement and suddenly said out loud “Yes, you’d definitely suit a sword…” He shook his head suddenly and chuckled, meeting Svala’s gaze with his dark eyes “Apologies, I was thinking of something very important.”
He shifted, and listening to Svala he nodded, placing his hands in the bowl to wash his face and hands gently; and he looked up at Hallerna “Thank you…” He turned to the rest of the family “All of you for making me seem so welcomed in your home.” And he breathed out a heavy breath and returned his gaze to Svala. “That is very kind of you for your mother Svala, not only a good head but a good heart it fits.” He stated promptly his dark eyes met her blue before he spoke again “Svala, at your words and actions I am more than impressed… And that is very true, but Anndrais came not for his own benefit, he came with the attempt to stop the violence.”
Orran leaned back and glanced around at the family before him. “Though that is a topic of another time, I am here, presented with good food and excellent company. Such dour talk is not for an hour such as this.” He stated and the smile returned to his features; and he drew his gaze to Hallerna. “You have a very strong daughter Hallerna, it echoes my own people very much. Strong are the women of my people, warriors as the men are.”
Orran straightened himself as he spoke “Svala has skill, I can see it… Raw potential,” he said softly and shot a sidelong glance at Svala before returning his gaze to Hallerna “As much as I joke about bread and food, and how lovely the ‘swallow’ is.” He smiled softly “She has so much potential to be even more.”
Hallerna eased herself into her chair, golden eyebrows knit curiously as she looked at Orran curiously as he spoke. “I don’t understand… What more should she be? Svala is already… Svala?” Her gaze turned from their guest to her eldest daughter, just finishing her serving and taking her seat. She was a beautiful girl, smart and hard-working, and if the lovingly crafted bearded axe leaning against the wall now beside her mother’s own well-worn blade was any indication? Oh, she was certainly brave as any ten men, courageous and steadfast. But she was a farmer’s daughter after all, and though Hallerna loved the girl with all she had, Orran’s words were simply impervious to her understanding.
Svala looked to Orran with a smile, perhaps a little less perplexed than her mother though she wondered nonetheless. She at least had seen him fight, defend the Ragnarsson children and Eyja and even herself, though they were none of his own. But he’d likely already witnessed her humiliating attempt, all off-balance and sent akimbo with Sigrid’s spear, the escape from that vile man that almost felt more luck than any natural skill of her own.
The young woman chewed her lip softly though she smiled still, a small, self-deprecating laugh escaping her. “Would you make a shieldmaiden of me, Orran?” she asked, realizing halfway through the words that some small part of the young woman genuinely, truly and desperately hoped that was exactly what he meant.
Orran looked at Hallerna carefully. “As in more skilled; she showed more courage and bravery in one look than I’ve seen in awhile.” He turned his gaze to Svala and spoke “She held that bearded axe in her hand, and was covered and blood…” He said softly keeping his gaze on her intently, “If I would have called you would have came to my aid, I knew you wished to help me, aid me… That act enough, to save a stranger, tells me plenty.”
He kept his eyes on Svala as she chewed her lip, and nodded “If this term means some sort of warrior woman, than yes… I would.” He glanced over at Hallerna the smile replace by his stern look “It is not base skill, or body type, or talent that makes a defender, a protector, it’s courage beyond measure the heart to defend the innocent. Those who need it the most.” And he rolled his shoulders and glanced at Hallerna. “So I ask to train your daughter, build her up, strengthen her. She has the heart and mind for it, she just needs training.”
And Orran glanced down at his food before drawing his gaze directly to Svala.
Svala met his dark gaze with her own steady, thoughtful eyes, gaining confidence with every word, a pleasure that didn’t raise the color to her cheeks or the child-like smile to her lips, but something deeper, older, a hint really, a small promise of the woman to rise in the years to come, should any one of them survive Trelleborg. Without a word, she nodded her assent to Orran, before turning to look to her mother who would, by all counts in their world, be the end all word for whether she would or no as the head of their small family.
Hallerna’s chin had come to rest in the palm of her hand, propped up on the table as Orran spoke, taking in every last word he said and weighing it as thoroughly and unsparingly, as only the wise wife of a farmer could ever do. The chaff from the grain, she sifted those words and, after her own careful consideration, finally gave voice to the thoughts in her head.
“You would teach my daughter to be a warrior Orran? Before today, I admit, I would have laughed in your face - but there is a great deal of this world I’d have long considered impossible that has come to pass, and the idea that today Svala would have to kill a man in the very streets of Trelleborg, in the shadow of the Jarl’s Hall? Oh, that would certainly be one of those ‘impossible things.’”
“But you should know, and I tell you nothing either of my girls don’t already know - we’ve no way to pay you for this, even if Svala does show an aptitude with a blade. Her brave heart is never a question - she’s got the very heart of a bear. But most everything we ever had, was left on our farm when the draugr came - what you see here, is all we’ve got.”
“And yes, I know… I saw Anndrais’ reaction when Sigrid tried to offer him coin in payment for what good he’d done poor Tora - I offer you no insult in the offering, Orran. You are foreign to us, and there is no disservice in saying we are a proud people - not beggars. I hope my meaning is clear?” Hallerna said with a genuine smile as she sat back in her chair, deep blue eyes still lit on Orran.
Orran listened to Hallerna intently, as much as he wished to train the girl, the mother had to at least approve; and when she spoke of Anndrais’ he finally spoke up “I seek nothing for the training of Svala, save her company during the training. As for Anndrais, you mistake him, the insult was not for the coin. But for the reason the coin was given, do not mistake that for a martyrdom of sorts. He is difficult for even myself to grasp at times.”
His gaze was kept on Hallerna’s blue eyes. “So I understand the world we live in, things change, and we adapt.” He glanced at Svala and smiled. “Heart of a bear? I can see that, or a wolf.” He smiled and turned back to Hallerna. [b]“So Hallerna, I do wish to train your daughter, and if you really must ask of me to take a payment for this service, then if you would welcome me back to your humble home, then I would enjoy that very much.”
He leaned back in his chair and eyed Eyja with a smile “Have to keep coming back to visit the little one.” And his eyes grew brighter, and his smile wider as he spoke. “I have a promise to keep. Isn't that right Eyja?”
Eyja’s head turned up to Orran, wide-eyed and a little startled at the sound of her name, both her hands firmly planted beneath the table, absolutely not holding Tore the kitten in her lap, giving him a surreptitious nibble of a piece of her stew meat while his raspy little tongue licked the stew broth from her fingers. “Yes you do, Orran,” she chirped in quickly, because Eyja was quick and clever, and even in her silent moments that mind of hers never stopped - and there was rarely ever a conversation that child’s ears couldn’t follow, whether she would or no.
And she really had been following as the older people spoke, and Eyja knew very well that little twinge in her belly was a pang of jealousy. Raudr and Ranulf both got to play with wooden swords - and someday they’d have real ones! But they were boys, one day men, and… Well, that was just the way of things, she supposed. But now Orran, her very own Wolf Man and slayer of bald dragons, the master of paper and ink and whorls and swirls, was going to teach Svala to be a warrior if Madir said she might?
Well, in truth - and Eyja was really a very good girl, and tried to be truthful in all matters - she envied Svala something fierce, the chance to fight like a boy. But as deep as the envy might go, the love for her older sister went further still, and Eyja knew she’d had treat enough, learning to write and draw on real paper, with real ink, with her painted man.
“Can I at least come watch? You teaching Svala all that fighting… Ummm… Stuff?” If sticks were good enough for drawing in the snow, well… There was nothing to say she could pretend, was there?
As intently as Hallerna had listened to Orran’s proposition in the first place, so too did she listen to his explanation, and finally nodded her approval. “As you will Orran - and of course, as Svala will as well, though that light in her eyes right now tells me all I’ll ever need to know of her answer to that question.” she added with a small, warm laugh, as much for Svala’s eagerness as for Eyja’s sweet, hopeful question.
“Though she’d best not forget that tomorrow morning we move on to the Jarl’s hall. We were invited by the housekarl, and I accepted - it seemed wise, and the offer genuine, and would take some of the worry from my heart, if I’m honest, after all that’s happened this day. But I’ll not forget you Orran, nor Anndrais - a deal is a deal after all. And Svala will absolutely have to finish her work before she begins practice - and I sent them to Freya in the first place because I know she’ll see them set to needful tasks!”
“Even so Svala, are these terms acceptable to you, sweetling?”
Svala needed no kind of pushing at all, for once the young, inward-turning girl’s voice leapt to the fore. “Yes! Please Orran yes - when can we start?”
Orran smiled warmly at Hallerna and nodded “I didn’t think you would…” He glanced over at Ejya “And that would be your mothers decision little one.” and he laughed gently as Svala burst out with her admission and he eyed the young woman.
“Good, I enjoy the enthusiasm, I say we can start in two days time or so, if that is good for you. I have to prepare some things for the training, but other than that we are set to go very soon.” He rolled his shoulders and nodded with a smile before settling back to eat some more of the stew and gazing at Svala for a moment before speaking again.
“In either case it would be an honor to train you Svala.” He turned his gaze to Hallerna. “I will take good care of her, and I am sure you will be as pleased as I am already with her skill, even under pressure.”
He brought his gaze back to Svala “Be ready Svala, I will not take training easy on you, because I know you can take it.” He smiled softly and gave her a wink.
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