Chapter 47 - the Time I
The festival constantly grew closer. Shan got to amaze his two bigger older brothers with his new found prowess and tricks. Both with and without a weapon in his hand. After enough sport was finally had at the brother's expense, they even related the funny deception of what went on in the barn every morning. Var was all mirth and laughter. Don't believe anything you simply hear of, and only half of what you see. She smiled and held one hand over one eye to punctuate it.
Shan continued to practice fighting with his brothers, to prepare for what was coming. With Shan's preparation complete, the three tall women from the high north, worked on Gullina as well as enjoying practicing once again with their Lady Eira. Var continued to tease Eira, she intended to have her promise made good on.
Shan and old man Patch and Wulfgar were with several Ravins in tow at their favorite tavern, when another Ravin entered quietly. Wulfgar noticed him sitting quietly aside all the quiet talk and goings on. He wandered past him.
"Aye. Is it time, already?"
The scout nodded and smiled. Looked around, and questioned with only his facial expression.
"Its fine. All here are close friends."
The raven smiled and left as quietly and inauspiciously as he arrived. They moved around like ghosts if you weren't on the lookout for them, really. They could enter and leave any tavern all but unseen and beneath notice.
The next time Wulfgar noticed, there were several of them that came in at once, and shook road dust off of them. They had been traveling for quite a bit, that much was obvious. They took up positions around the tavern without making a spectacle of themselves, then a very large man came in with a traveling cloak on, and a couple more Ravins behind him as well. It was obviously a man of some amount of importance.
The man was practically a giant, and towered over everyone else around him. Quite quiet of a fellow for such a large man, however. Ryeamund noticed all the extra scouts around though, and asked Wulfgar with his face only. Wulfgar gestured by lifting his chin up to indicate. Gullina and one of tavern-keeper's daughters were seeing what the new people might want.
Ryeamund and Wulfgar walked over to the corner table they had taken up, and stood there smiling. Rye piped up quietly.
"Well now. They just let anyone in these days, I see."
The large man in the back, flanked by the scouts just smiled and nodded.
"Aye. I could say the same of you being here."
"How long has it been?"
"Enough winters, that I see your foundling is grown into a fine young man. Is Eira around?"
"She's back at the farm, with her ladies. Do you want to go now, or…"
"As much as it would please me to see Eira? I'm not sure she would be but half as pleased, with my presence. That, can wait a bit."
"As you wish."
"Pah. You do me the service, all these years. I tell you, man. We moved through some quite unruly districts and villages, making our way here. Yet, now that I am here? This is a very pleasant place, indeed."
Ryeamund nodded.
"I am glad you approve. Might I have the honor, of announcing you?"
"Oh. Not just yet. I tell you, after all these years? As much as I dislike long journeys, the one fine thing of it? Is I get to travel as an ordinary man once again. Please, let me enjoy this just a few moments more."
"As you wish."
"Might I have the honor of finally meeting him? And his Lady. I have waited many winters, for this."
"Yet I shall not announce you?"
"I have a name, you know. Stuart. Until then, my name will pass."
Ryeamund nodded, and asked Wulfgar to fetch Shan, and he went himself to gently guide Gullina over.
"Shan, Gullina? This, is an old friend. From the far north. This, is Stuart. Stuart? May I present you with Shan, my son. And… this is Gullina. The Lady Gullina."
The large man pulled his big, loose traveling cloak back, to reveal a fairly handsome face for an older man. He was big enough seated in the corner already, and when he rose to politely shake hands with Shan, and kiss the Lady Gullina's hand… he both showed great high manners, as well as that he inadvertently showed how big a man he truly was. He was a bit taller than Shan himself, and nearly as wide as Ryeamund was. He was a true giant from the far north.
"It is my greatest pleasure to meet both of you, I assure you. I… have been told of you both, and it is a fine thing to finally lay eyes on you."
Shan dipped his head a little, and quite politely.
"You flatter me. You must know my father quite well, for him to have mentioned me. I am not that important a man, when off of my family's farm lands."
"Ah. I am quite pleased, to meet the south-land's first true Lord. And to meet as well, the first Lady? I am blessed."
Shan smiled at his speech.
"And are you a reckoner?"
"I am. I can't wait to see the south-land's first Garten. I've only had it described to me. I would see this miracle with my own eyes."
Gullina smiled.
"You can see the Garten when its open, all you wish. For now though, I'm sure you had to endure a long journey from somewhere. What would you like?"
"Ah. I've brought some of my own tea, if you could find me some hot water, perhaps a little sugar? I'll be fine for now, Lady."
By the time Gullina got back with bowls for tea and a hot kettle, the large man had rearranged the seating. He bid Gullina to sit with him, and Shan on his other side. He poured them each hot water over tea he made for them. His traveling companions drifted off to mix with some other Ravins about the tavern already before they arrived.
"And you? You keep your hand off of my tea bowl, if you would. You snake eyed bastard."
Wulfgar smiled and held up his palms.
"I'll not lay a finger on it, old friend. And how was your trip."
"Hmm. We avoided some rather unruly places making our way here, yet… this is pleasant enough a place. I like it."
"This is Ryeamund's favorite tavern in the village. As you are quite aware? Our Little Rye enjoys a quiet place."
"I see. Add in a well stocked pantry, and I wouldn't mind being here a bit. Which reminds me. I was given a geft for you, Wolf. A few things. A cask of mead I'll trust you to enjoy. Some morsels from RavinLunden. If one of you men would be so kind?"
One of the scouts smiled and went off.
"So. Young Lord, what do you do?"
"Well. After the Garten, I tend to the family farm, mostly. Other than the festival coming up."
"Hmm, yes. I'm here for the festival, naturally. And tell me. I was told, the village boys will be providing entertainment."
"We will try to give far north-men what small entertainment as we might, down here."
The giant smiled, and he was a quite pleasant fellow to be around. For all his size, he was a truly gentle giant.
"So. I hear with your Gartening at an end. Examined to be a high reckoner… you will likely be declared a man at the festival."
"Well. I certainly hope so, good sir. I should like to have my Lady's coin. But really, the big news of the festival, is seeing which of my two brothers, will take my father's place, and manage his affairs one day."
"Hmm. I see. And tell me, would you place wager on Gareen, or…"
"Oh. You know my brothers, then."
"Aye. I knew them when they were young, before they left the north."
"Well. If I were forced to wager? I would have to guess Gareen. He is the eldest, you know."
"He is."
"Well. It is quite a novelty, to meet men and women that live in the far north. Its rare this far south. I? Am the youngest son, and a foundling at that. I'm concerned with the farm. What do you do, as a high reckoner, good sir? You have the highest manners."
"Ah. I am but a humble steward. To a much greater man than I could ever hope to be. He requires a reckoner to see to his affairs, and I serve him as best I may."
"How pleasant. My father is a steward, as well."
"Is he now."
"He is."
"And tell me, Shan. Who does he serve?"
"He… is the steward for the High Lord Mjolnir. This is his district. He requires things to be quiet and orderly, and my father sees to it."
"A noble pursuit, for a man to have. And, might Gareen take over your father's place one day?"
"I assume so. Or Mekall. I'm sure whichever is chosen? One will simply aid the other."
"And you. You will aid both of them?"
"If they would have me. Or, perhaps they will be too busy seeing to father's affairs, and I will simply see the farm run."
"You don't wish for a higher station in life?"
"What more is there, sir. My own father could have had many things, and merely wishes to see his family and farm as many days as he might, when he's not off on weightier matters for the Lord's benefit."
"And Lady Gullina. What do you do, if I might know."
"Well. I normally reckon for the tavern keeper and his family. Though I've been more concerned with the festival for a while now. Lady Eira would have the festival go well. I assume after the festival passes, I'll be back here to the tavern."
"The Lady Eira spoke highly of you, Gullina. She's quite pleased to see the Garten bear its first few fruits."
"You flatter me, sir. Before I came to the tavern? I wore burlap and smelled of sheep. And, by smelling of sheep? I mean not the fur, if you take my meaning."
The giant smiled.
"More pleasant to see a tavern run then, aye?"
"Quite so, sir. Behind my back about town? I'm sure I'm still named Sheep-shit, to the others I grew up with here. Shan's father said your name was Stuart?"
"Yes."
"Are you a reckoner and steward for… a merchant?"
"Oh. No. As Shan's father is the steward for a Lord running a district? I do much the same thing. Another district, obviously."
"Does the district run well?"
"As well as we can manage. I'm actually here? Not just to see the festival. I was asked to see how things work around here. Perhaps bring some of this… order and quiet back, to my own district or even some other."
"I'm sure my father will aid you any way he can. Father dislikes things being unruly."
"I? Will be happy to take all the advice I can get, Shan."
"Well, you will have to seek my father for that, sir. A tavern, or a farm? I can tell you only such things as that."
"Ah. Your father sent word. You know of smithing, and woodcutting. And a great many other things, as well. Your father and mother tell me, they are quite proud of you. Up north, I knew your father when he was a younger man. When he told me he taught you to reckon as a farmer, a woodcutter, and a smith? I smiled."
"Well? That's good for my ears to hear. Sir… you've been on the road. Would you like something to go with the tea? The boar came out well this evening. Shall I?"
"I have no servants, young Shan. I know my own way around a pantry. Now, if you would see me back, and make the keep and his help understand their pantry isn't being raided, now, that would be a fine thing."
Gullina took an arm of the giant, and led him back to the kitchen with Shan. He was content to see and smell everything cooking, and finally got himself a plate. In addition to being perhaps the largest man anyone had ever seen? He also had simply the highest possible manners. The tavern keeper and the daughters were soon smiling and unafraid of him. He truly seemed to be a gentle giant.
For such a tall, thick man… simply rippling with muscles? He was quite soft and gentle in all of his dealings with people. He was inordinately more concerned with the kitchen and the pantry, than seeing what room he might stay in. He wasn't happy until Shan and Gullina showed him the pebbles and how that reckoned how much of what to buy next, as it got used.
The Tavern-keeper had his curiosity aroused, when one of his scouts he came in with took the keeper off to the side, and smiled and pressed a small sack of high, hard gold coin into his palm. As well as when another scout brought in provisions and asked where they went in the back to be kept. They both quietly assured the keeper, he would be well compensated for allowing this stranger to have the run of the place.
One jingle of the sack of gold, and the tavern master didn't even have to count it. He could feel the heft of the gold within, and his ears told him it was high, fine coin. Not to mention, the man's scouts were bringing in more of his own foodstuffs, than he was using out of the tavern's stores. When the keeper tried to politely protest, the scouts smiled and waved his concerns off. Apparently, he was to be paid handsomely, and provisioned on top of it? Not a thing a man can really complain about.
So when later, the tavern master realized he had no other business, than what people were coming in with his guests already here? He wandered outside to look around. Was something about the village, perhaps. All he noticed to account for his lack of regular business, were several more ravin scouts, hanging around outside. He then noticed, they took turns being inside or out front.
There were some out the back as well. But, one feel of that sack of gold, told him to not worry about it. Someone here was very important indeed, and really it would be rude to ask. If he were required to know which one it was, someone would have already told him. When the three tall north women that wore armor came in, wearing that armor? Well, no matter. Even the Steward's own wife came in, wearing the same armor as the other three.
The keeper was amazed to see this, and even more amazed at how she acted having some mead with the other three women. The Lady Eira was almost always quiet, mannerly and reserved. Unless some trouble was about, and there was none to be found now. Still, she did raise her voice and pushed and shoved and jostled with the other three.
As had happened at other times, once the mead and ale got flowing… the three women wearing armor would take over serving the tavern, and once again claimed they had grown up in the north seeing to a place such as this. The keeper and his daughters once again got the pleasant surprise of being waited on in their own tavern.
Things sounded somewhat "unruly", but really it was fine. These people got loud and boastful with one another, but no harm ever came from it. The more grievous of an insult hurled at another? The more laughter and catcalls went around. The tall one, called Var?
She was prone to jump up on a chair and scan the room for where the "rabble" was coming from. Louder than the men, she would yell usually.
"Aye! From the back, it always comes from! Where its polite to say it from!"
Some male voice yelled out from another corner, amid even more good nature to the cheering and laughter.
"Aye! And safer from here, as well!"
The gentle giant came in from the door, looking around. The tavern keeper heard him declare to one of the scouts, that some "ruffian" had thrown what he was certain was animal shit in his direction, coming through the front door. Which was very odd. At nearly the same instant, scouts from out back brought in two young men, who suddenly looked sheepish. A third soon got jostled in the front door.
The place slowly got deathly quiet. The one in the front was hustled back to stand with the other two, and they were surrounded by tall Ravin scouts. Ryeamund walked over to see what was going on. One of the scouts whispered in his ear, and he laughed.
"Wife!"
"Aye, husband. Is it a matter, then?"
"It would seem, dear… that a few of the local kids, decided it would be great sport, to throw some dried sheep shit through the door."
Gullina glared, before putting her face in her palm.
Eira walked over in her armor, to stand next to Ryeamund. She drained the horn she carried, and asked whether he was going to handle it? Or if he preferred her to handle this.
"All right. Which of you three, will speak for you."
They just looked at each other.
"I expect one of you to speak up. You are all a little young, to have ever seen me displeased, I think. But? I bet you have either seen, or heard of, my wife and how she can get at times. Would you rather deal with me? Or her. Choose."
Var was quickly at his other side. She stood towering over the tallest of the three of them, and they just looked up at the sight of such a tall woman in full armor. Sporting two swords and two daggers, as well. They were used to seeing the quite tall Lady Eira about the village, and this woman wasn't much shorter.
"Eira? Go tend to your mead. I have yet to properly introduce myself to any of these hairy little beasts."
Eira smiled and walked back over to the serving area of the tavern, and Ryeamund just raised his palms into the air.
"Oh, now you've gone and done it. I was trying to save you, but… I feel sorry for you now."
"My name? Is Var. I'm a full Rhyshian Ravin woman. I am Lady in Waiting, to the Lady Eira. The wife? Of your own steward. My husband? Fought right beside the High Lord Mjolnir in the last great battle for the corridor. Who in the goat fucking hell, do you think you even are."
She got no response.
"Lady Gullina!"
"Aye, Var…"
"Do you speak for these three?"
"Not a word."
"Do you speak for any of them?"
"Not a one."
"Well then. You know? I was just starting to enjoy this village. For the south-lands? Its fairly quiet. Until now, that is."
"You're all very lucky. I'm here on command. I'm expected to stay my hand, and not kill one of the North Star's southern pickles while I'm here. This, is how you introduce yourself to visitors, from the far north? This is how you expect to make a good impression? That I report when I go back home, that the south lands are not all ignorant, hairy barbarians. This, is how you think it would be wise to treat guests, coming in to see your village."
Not a word.
"Can any of you speak? Or do they pull your tongues out when you're born. So you don't bleat."
Nothing.
"Well. Allow me to make sure you remember my face. What do you think, boys. Shall I have some sport with them?"
The place erupted in somewhat drunken good cheer.
"Well. There you have it. Seems the boys want entertainment. And I'm going to give it to them. There are now only two things remaining. The first, and by far the most important? I, have only had two horns of fine unwatered mead. Once I've had my third, though… I'm going to seek sport. Leaving only one thing. Normally, business best taken up out back. But? I want to make an impression. So out front."
Var yelled and stalked over and got her third horn of mead. She downed it to the cheers of most of the men in the place. The other women in armor were egging her on now.
"Take them out front…"
They all got hustled out front, and pretty much the entire tavern formed a wide circle with them in the middle. Var strode in after a few seconds of noise and commotion.
"Why aren't they all armed? Give them something to swing around, would you?"
A couple Ravins offered them swords of their own. Politely holding out the handles, the blade back over their forearm tucked into their body. They finally had to pick three of them.
Var herself drew both her swords that she carried crisscrossed in a big V down her back. The hilts were up above her shoulders, and the long, thin blades crossed just below the small of her back and continued a bit more. She stood smiling and waiting. She had to taunt them and come at them to get them to move around. They were terrified. She chased them around, and disarmed them in turns. She would always stop to pick up the handle of one of their own swords with the tip of hers and offer it back to them.
She couldn't offer them any higher insult, and made sure they knew it. The tavern master couldn't believe this was happening, and all the noise and commotion had some villagers peeping at the goings on. When Var was finally done, she told them to make themselves scarce. After telling them that if any of their friends wanted to discuss the matter? Simply come and ask politely for Var, by name. She then added when they finally trotted off, allowed to leave.
"Or send your fathers, if they take issue with Rhyshian women! It won't be the first heads I've claimed, you fools!"
Then amid all manner of loud laughter and commotion, the group went back in and continued with their mild though good nature of revelry, as if nothing amiss had just happened in the slightest.
The gentle giant came over near to Var, and asked her if that had all been necessary.
"Necessary? No. Now… sporting? Quite."
"It would be nice to convince these southern pickles, we are not all bloodthirsty raiders up north, you know."
"Aye, wise steward. And your first Kingmaker down here? They are throwing animal shit at her."
"I see your point, Var."
"Well… actually you hear my words. They? Got to see my… point."
Several of the men toasted her wit, and Wulfgar and the gentle giant both smiled and went about their own tea. The tavern master had always been friendly with Var and her friends, and ended up talking to her idly some small time later. Actually, while Var brought him another ale to enjoy.
Var was heard to ask him.
"Good keeper. That's what one of the women did to three of them. They now have to imagine? What the men here are all capable of."
He smiled and nodded, and his one daughter chortled merrily at her wit. Shan noticed that Stuart was starting to ask around about his room here at the tavern. He ran and got his mother.
"Mother. Stuart is asking about a room here. Is he not an important visitor? He's a steward."
"Oh. Go get your father, then."
"Wife?"
"Shan tells me that Stuart is asking about his room. Here."
"Oh. Eira… go get the man. No, wait. Shan?"
"Yes?"
"Stuart is… more important of a guest than he would have you believe. He has the highest manners. He'll be staying with us. Eira… be pleasant, would you."
Eira was tight lipped but gave up a thin smile. The gentle giant seemed… a little nervous and quiet to come talk to Eira and Ryeamund.
"Stuart. Myself, my wife. We would not dream of having you stay at the tavern. Of course you will stay at my great-house."
The big man looked at Eira, which confused Shan.
"Aye, Stuart."
"Are you sure, Lady Eira? I'd perhaps rather not…"
Shan's mother gave a little smile.
"Stuart. Did you travel alone?"
"Aye. Quite a journey, I tell you. But as you can see, I'm hardly alone. All these Ravins…"
"Aye. My eyes work, Stuart. I see you have men with you. They're welcome as well. I think you know what I mean, when I asked if you traveled alone."
The gentle giant nodded.
"Then come here, Stuart. You're a good man."
Shan watched as his mother seemed to all but make up with the big man, and he was relieved to finally hug her. When Shan was again having tea with the quiet giant, he asked what that was all about.
"Oh. A long time ago, Shan. There was once… a misunderstanding. I had words with your father, as it happened. Quite a few, actually."
"You had words with father?"
The giant chuckled.
"I'm a gentle man of reckoning, Shan. I don't go in for… unruly behavior, you simply must understand."
"Surely."
"We didn't clang swords. By Odin, I'm a man for scrolls. Yet… we put our hands on one another. As I've said, it was a great misunderstanding."
"These things can sometimes happen. And mother?"
"Well…"
The big man grabbed Wulfgar passing by, and clapped an arm around the man's shoulder.
"Have you ever given your mother too much wit for one day, while growing up? Perhaps been entertained by her cast iron pot."
Shan laughed.
"No, Stuart. I don't believe I have. Yet? I am told both my brothers enjoyed such, when younger men."
"Yes. Your mother is a high spirited woman. Were not the Wolf keeping himself handy? Your mother nearly had me more than once with a cast iron pot over my own head. I mean, really. And we're all high reckoners, what example are we setting for the pickles when such things occur."
Wulfgar cut in gently.
"See, Stuart? All forgiven. You and Eira go way back, many winters."
"Yes. Its quite pleasant, to finally put the past behind us. And I am looking forward to the festival. Shan, the vegetables you have down here. I'll be days before I eat the same thing twice, with my boar."
Wulfgar grabbed the arm gently of the old man Patch going by, as he himself had been shanghaied into the conversation.
"Patch. Having a time?"
"Oh, quite a time. All this wonderful ale, and the food. Its really something."
"Aye. You might remember, I once told you. You reminded me of my friend, from up north. Stuart? Here, this is old man Patch. He's a man for the gods. He follows the old ways. And? He's a friend of Shan's. He stops in from time to time, visiting the boy growing up around here."
The giant shook hands with the frail old man.
"A pleasure to meet you, Patch. And respect for the old ways, that's not something seen down here often, you know."
"Oh, I know it well. Still, reckoning and wisdom, go hand in hand."
"They do, don't they…"
Shan stayed with Wulfgar, as the two went back and smiled and laughed and spoke for a time. Wulfgar smiled.
"Oh, I just knew those two would hit it off well."
"They certainly seem to. Yet, old man Patch… gets along with nearly everyone."
"Stuart? He follows the old ways, as Patch does. I knew they'd be fast friends."
"Wolf?"
"Aye, Shan."
"I would offer you wit, if you took no offense."
"I'm a man for fun, young man. Offer it up."
"The size of that man. He's larger than my own brothers, and I thought they were the biggest men I might see in my life."
"Aye. He's a true giant. From the far north, Shan. There's lots of those up there. And many of them? High reckoners, as you are. Where's the wit, though."
"Oh. The Ravins he travels with?"
"Yes."
"Was he sent to protect the Ravins, in case they run into trouble."
Wulfgar chuckled.
"He is quite a sight. Yet? His life is all scrolls, and no swords."
"If I hadn't of met him so often tonight, by the sight of him? I would hardly believe my father, laid hands on him. Yet, I have met him, and I've seen father handle my brothers, if only for sport. Yet still…"
"He's a Rhyshian giant. Well, half Rhyshian. From the blonde line, like your own father, and your mother's friends."
"And the other half?"
"Pure north-man line on that side. Up north, the original kingdom, as I'm sure you know from the Garten… comes from two people. His parents were one from each line. With giants on both sides, as you can imagine."
"And he can't wait to see the Garten."
"Yes, he lives for the Gartening. As I do. Its important, to see the Gartening take hold, you know."
Wulfgar paused.
"I'm sure it will one day, Shan. And tell me. Those three young fools. That threw the animal shit. How long did they spend, at the Garten."
"Oh. Not long. I was quite young, when they simply stayed on at their farms and I never saw them again, inside the building."
"You see? If all the young men in the village followed through to the end of the Garten and followed the Gentle Way? How much better would the village be for it."
"Well. Less shit tossed about the taverns, that much is clear."
They both looked over. The keeper's oldest daughter was playing music on both her flutes, and Stuart was dancing with the other daughter. A few of the Ravins inside were joining in, and even Ryeamund got in on it for a bit, before grabbing Eira up and dancing some with her.
Most of the tavern was in a light and somewhat frivolous mood, given both what the nature of the night was and that what entertainment Var had provided simply seemed to add to it. All except Ryeamund. Who smiled and nodded at the appropriate times, but was now poking morsels of something off of a plate, into his face, and chewing and swallowing mechanically. Eira saw him at this and sidled up in the next chair.
"Husband. What ails you."
"One of my many curses, what else."
"And which curse be it this time. You crackle?"
He smiled.
"Nay. I crackle not, this night. I am still in your drops."
"I must ask twice, then."
"The curse of stewardship. I'll be back soon."
"What must you do."
He looked at her, and gave up a light little sigh.
"There was a matter. The matter, was with a son of one of my pickles. The matter, was also with one of my guests. The matter ended, with a challenge to the adult father. Am I not the steward."
"Do you seek my counsel?"
"I wasn't going to, though now that you offer it? We should test my wits."
"Your wits have been fine for such things, for many years."
"If the sons should come back, perhaps alone, perhaps with more friends? Things could get unruly. In truth, I fear more for the safety of my pickles, than for my guests."
"True."
"If one or more fathers should come back?"
"Var will do the same to them, as to the shit throwing sons."
"Now, I have two results I would not wish for. I could do nothing, of course."
"And, probably nothing will happen."
"Though this is more favorable of a result? Still not a good one. I don't know now, if the fathers are simply embarrassed or even scared to come."
"Hmm. I suppose you will choose to go to the one father's house, and have pleasant words with him."
"That was where I was off to."
"Then what were you plotting. I know that face."
"Which father. I am with guests. I would rather not spend half the night, going from house to house. So as you see? I am plotting to do less work. Which I tell you, goes against, that I reckon as a farmer."
"The one boy, threw the shit. The other? Though I am guessing? Planned it as well."
"Oh, aye. And I would add that one other? Almost certainly just happened to be there, and thought to see the result of it all, whichever way it went."
"We can guess all night at this. Which dreamed it up. Which went simply to watch. Which nudged the other into it. Which tried and failed to counsel them against it."
"Ah. Now my high reckoning wife sees me wearing my face, shoving morsels into my mouth."
"How will you choose which father to go see."
"Well. I have no clear and perfect choice above the others. I was planning on leaving it up to Odin."
"Odin sees to many things."
It was old man Patch, who had happened behind them and must have heard their conversation.
They both greeted the old man, then he asked back why they were wearing long faces. They explained the entire thing, and Ryeamund hastened to add it was not a matter, just an errand he was going to briefly tend to.
Patch took a sip of ale.
"Interesting. Are you not both reckoners?"
Ryeamund smiled.
"I am blessed by Odin, old man Patch. Many men complain they have a nag for a wife. I enjoy my wife's counsel. If reckoning is a ladder? Her ladder has more rungs."
"Yet, reckoning has failed."
Ryeamund chuckled easily.
"It has. And by leaving it up to Odin? I mean to say, I was going to leave it to chance. Unless you have wisdom."
"I have some."
"There, let me hear it then, old man."
"Do you know what ale is for?"
"If I say its for drinking, I know wit is coming."
"Certainly. Ale, Little Rye? Gives a wise old man time to come up with something that at least passes for wise… and a fool, something to take a sip of."
Then he drank some ale. Ryeamund waited.
"Well?"
"Hmm. Perhaps we should leave the choice of who to talk to? Up to Gullina and Shan. Gullina was the one made sport of. Shan? Has an obvious interest in the matter. And as well, they are younger. So they will know more about the comings and goings of the boys and their fathers and mothers."
They both congratulated the old man on coming up with wisdom, when reckoning had failed. Ryeamund smiled as he popped the remaining morsels into his mouth, then started looking about to find Shan. Then Gullina. Neither of which were immediately on hand. They weren't out back, they weren't out front. They were in neither the pantry, the kitchen, nor anywhere else.
They asked Wulfgar.
"I suppose they could have stolen off to make eyes at one another. Of course, now that you mention this… yet? I wouldn't worry."
Ryeamund and Eira both wondered why.
"Because. The Ravins have orders to watch over both of them. If they are simply away to make eyes, the Ravins will stay back. If anything was around them, they will be closer. Now, would you feel better about this situation."
Ryeamund shrugged.
"I would say I did."
"Let me further put your mind at ease, Rye. Does your boy often do rash things?"
"Well… never."
"Then why would he start now."
"I see your point."
Wulfgar smiled.
"And so you trust the boy's judgment."
"I do."
"Well, there you go. And tell me. Do you trust the Ravins. Particularly, my hand chosen ones for this trip. The North Star himself, was worried about Stuart on a long journey."
Ryeamund nodded along with Wulfgar, he was right.
"I just want things to go well. We are so close."
The emotion was clear in Ryeamund's voice.
Wulfgar regarded him, and waited a moment. Choosing his words.
"What troubles you, Rye? After all, the work is done now. And? You and Eira, have done very well. The Steward? Is very impressed. I could not even begin to describe how happy the North Star is."
"I worry over it, Wolf. I reckon, though I often reckon as a farmer. Until you see the animal out the mother's belly, and the mother up and about? Something could still happen. I know it would seem silly of me, but… I guess its how I grew up."
Wulfgar waited.
"I grew up a child, in a place… oh, Wolf? You know what you saw, moving through some of the districts. All I knew, growing up. Hunger, want, violence, blood. It was… madness. My father's little farm? The only place around that was a little better."
Wulfgar patted his meaty shoulder. Spoke softly.
"We're changing that, Rye. Now? This village is a wonder. Your whole district is much the same. You are your father now. And your farm? The place that's a little better… is the entire district. And in time? The entire south-lands will be in that happy farm."
"Are we done yet? We might have dragged the unruly horse to the spring, yet, we still have to dunk his head in the water to force him to drink."
"After the festival ends, little Rye? There will be apples floating in the water, that the horse craves for. The horse will taste water, trying to get to the apples."
Ryeamund accepted the Ravin's protection explanation, on top of already knowing the character and nature of his own son. He related it to both the Wolf and Eira, and they agreed. Parents are parents, however. Eventually Wulfgar came at them all smiles.
"Ah. Your young Lord and Lady have been seen after. Apparently, they went to smooth things over at one or two of the parent's houses."
Wulfgar was still grinning.
"Apparently, it was amusing. Your boy is the diplomatic one, and the girl has the highest spirit. She was threatening to take a sharpened stick to the one son and the father. Your son apparently, smoothed it over."
"The one father was not spare with words to your son. Apparently, your son said something about being declared a man soon, and… sticking an apple up his ass, one day soon."
Ryeamund and Wulfgar chuckled.
"Aye, Wolf. A bit of that goes on every festival."
Eira told Rye and Wolf the way Shan related the story to them. Nothing but words, and amusing descriptions. Wulfgar claimed the Ravin's though unseen, said the same thing. Eira decided it was fine.
"Well? They are in coin to each other. She is a declared woman, and he is about to be declared a man, quite soon. Having words over throwing shit at your future wife? I could see that."
"Did the clever Wolf tell the darling Lady Eira, that he told one father he might well stick an apple up his ass soon?"
Eira smiled and sipped her pear juice with a little honey mead in it.
"You want the same response, twice in a row."
The three Oxen were in tow later in the evening. Theyer had Var in his lap. The few locals let in that seemed to be harmless? This was quite a sight for them. The three north women were as described to them. Damn tall. Not little twig women, either. All feminine muscle and sinew. Var in full armor herself, was a tall intimidating sight up close. The fact that she was on the leg of an even bigger guy, made his size noticeable. Arroch was the almost a giant among them, Theyer and Sooth were more "ordinary" north-men. They were still giants down here, in the southern most low lands.
Theyer, not used to running around boasting at the top of his lungs normally… was more used to being a normal sized guy where he came from. He was one of the giants down here. His woman sitting on his leg was bigger than the general man off the street around here.
He handled anyone that came into contact with him? By sticking a mug of ale in their hand, smiling, and wishing them well. When the town farmer asked about Var and her armor and weapons, he gave him gentle wit. How safe were his own children, when mother carried armor and two swords. He then switched out the ale mug, he replenished his own smile, and told the guy the women would be putting on entertainment at the festival, he could see his wife in action.
Theyer was always the warrior poet of the group. The silver tongue. He could scribble a good bit. He repeated amusing tales and had to hear and enjoy all of them. He was the group bard to the Oxen.
"So, Shan. Tell me then. How did going to see the first family go?"
"Well… I had imagined it going a little better than it did."
"Really."
"Yes. I am not allowed to fight, before the festival. I am trying to be polite."
"Did being polite work."
"Not really. I tried."
"And the other house?"
"Worse. I had to drag Gullina off before she chased the son and the father around with a sharpened stick."
"Well. It should all serve to add more fun to the festival games, right?"
"It should."