Chapter 32 - After the Battle I
After the great battle for the corridor was over. After they made sure what little of the enemy remained had split up and fled for their lives. After the long march back up the corridor. After Ryeamund Thorson dedicated his personal trophies to Modi the duck's grave monument… he sat into the night, still and quiet.
In the middle of the night, he had arisen and quietly went home. He was tired, exhausted really. Played out for the time being. He didn't want to assemble in any of the great halls, he didn't want to feast and drink. He didn't want to toast anyone, and he didn't want to be toasted. He did not in any way want to celebrate.
The last thing Ryeamund wanted, was to tell tall tales over horns of mead. Or to hear others doing so. He didn't want to be congratulated, and he didn't want to clap anyone else on the back either. He didn't want people to fear him for what he had done, and he didn't want any extra respect for his actions.
He didn't want to be pointed at, gossiped about, poked or prodded. He didn't want to be asked to confirm if this or that thing had actually happened as the tale had been told.
Ryeamund was at the point in his travel home, that he stood out in front of the Bear great-house. He could hear the shouts and cheers and the revelry going on inside. He didn't think he wanted all that tonight. For those that did, or at least felt or thought that they did? That was fine… for them.
Ryeamund glanced the other way. The narrow road. Little more than a trail, really. It led a short distance out and down, and ended in a farm. A familiar farm. His coin wench Eira's Uncle Hagyar's farm. Behind which property, naturally, was his own tiny farm. He only called her his coin wench now, as a lover's tease. It was his wife for some time now.
Ryeamund looked once again at the great-house, and heard the friendly noise coming from it. He knew that Arroch and Sooth and Theyer were there. He knew they wanted him to come in with them. He was sure that many other villagers would be in there as well, congratulating and paying respect to the big-men that had once again, risked their lives to protect their own village and lives and very way of life. Well, those that had made it back home alive, that is.
He knew Arroch and the oxen were there already, surely. He knew it was a custom after a great battle, that the village women would be in there handling the kitchen and serving the men. Hlin and Var and Syn would surely be seated with their Oxen.
He turned his head down the dark, quiet path that led… home. He was fairly sure, that was where he wanted to be. Dark… quiet… peaceful. About the only thing that the great-house had in it, that he possibly wanted? Eira. She might be in there. Perhaps… he could get in quietly, in a side door. Maybe without being noticed in all the revelry, then with any luck see if Eira was there, and get her to come with him. The only thing against that plan? The others might see him, and think it rude if he would not stay with them all.
Ryeamund stood there a little while. Deciding. To risk going into the hall, and being noticed and socially trapped? Would be choosing to celebrate battle, and death. To go down the dark path instead? Celebrate love, and life.
As if to entice him further, if he even needed help deciding… he caught sight of a small, dark shadow. Coming up from the dark path. Moving silently and steadily towards him. The dark shadow moved to within several inches of his own two fur wrapped feet, and sat itself down. Looked up at him silently after only a cursory sniff. The only noise was that made by the tail that wagged quietly, scratching at the dust on the road. The dark shadow sniffed him again, and rubbed its head up against his leg. Ryeamund smiled. This was where he had originally first met Thann, nearly in this very spot. Ryeamund quietly told the little dog he was sorry, that he didn't have any food for him.
Thann didn't care about food. He just looked up at him, waiting for Ryeamund to decide.
Ryeamund decided, and began to trudge quietly down the path. Thann approved, and stayed right at his side the entire way. There was no light from Hagyar's house, they must all be asleep. Or, at the great-house with everyone else. Thann led Ryeamund down to their own smaller house. Ryeamund could hear the quiet night sounds of the animals as he stood in front of his little home. Thann sat himself at the entrance-way, and Ryeamund could smell smoke. There was a fire. He could see dim light through a crack under the door.
He continued standing there. Regarding his new life, and his new home. He was exhausted, but… happy. Thann looked back at Ryeamund, then began gently pawing the door.
Ryeamund observed as shadows played across and into the crack of light peeping out from under the door. Movement from inside. The door opened, and it was Eira. She let Thann in, then saw Ryeamund standing several feet away. She held the little oil lantern up, but said nothing. Just cocked her head at him.
He walked to the front door. He hugged Eira, for a minute or two. She was warm and smelled nice. Ryeamund knew that he was cold, and he knew that he didn't smell nice.
He whispered into Eira's neck.
"I am home."
She held him at arm's length, looking him over with the little oil lantern.
"I see this. Are you all right?"
He nodded.
"I know you made it back. They told me you… went to visit Modi."
"Aye."
"You… didn't keep any… trophies?"
He wagged his head no.
"I gave them to Modi."
"It is a custom; most men keep at least one… if only in the barn."
Ryeamund smiled thin.
"Well, I am not most men. If this place was supposed to have human heads as decorations, would there not already be some here?"
Eira smiled thin back.
"The girls and the Oxen were here. They waited on you for a while. I'm sure they thought you would come to the feast when you got back from Modi's farm… everyone is at the great-house."
"Do… I have to go?"
Eira smiled.
"No."
"I'm just… I'm tired."
Eira was quiet as she nodded.
"Are you hurt?"
"Ah. I have cuts and scrapes and bruises all over. I am sure I will live."
"Well… are we going to stand out here all night?"
"For a little while… yes."
Eira stood next to him, holding his hand while they looked silently around. At everything and nothing. They listened to the night sounds the animals made, they listened to everything and nothing. For a few minutes.
"Are… the animals okay? Do they need anything."
Eira chuckled.
"No, dear. The village children have been going around to every big-man's house, and doing any chore they can find. They insisted on doing my uncle's few chores as well, though I told them they didn't have to. They insisted."
Ryeamund smiled, and squeezed her hand gently. Eira smiled back, and slowly led him in.
"Come… we get you cleaned up. Then you can sleep."
"All right."
Ryeamund trailed behind her as she led the way and sat him down at the table inside the door. Eira looked him over. He was covered in bruises and scratches and small cuts everywhere, but nothing that appeared serious.
"The bath is already hot. I reckoned on you wanting a hot bath, to relax."
Ryeamund slowly stood up, then rolled his neck around some and followed her in. Eira got all his armor off of him, checked him over carefully from head to toe as she got him undressed, and got him into the hot bath.
"Do you want your face rag?"
Ryeamund nodded he did. She wet the rag in the hot water, and draped it over his face as he leaned back and spread his big arms down the sides of the bath where he always sat in the corner. Eira inspected his hands, and other than the normal cuts and bruises, his knuckles were all tore up.
"Are there any… thorns in yer hands?"
"I already got them out."
"Hmm. Most men, use a sword for that."
"We were… all packed in. Close together… for a while."
Eira kneaded his hands for a little bit, before moving to his shoulders.
"I heard. They are calling it… Wulfgar's sausage grinder."
"Well… I suppose they have to call it something."
"I have already heard tales."
"Ah. Some of them? Might actually have some truth in them."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Nothing to talk about. It was a big fight. It took a long time. I fought a lot of men. They all died. Me? I lived. Really, there's not much else to tell of it."
"I heard one man say, it was like being led into battle, by Thor himself."
"Ah, we charged the line, and broke through… there were lots of men with me."
"Aye… they said you were right out in front when you charged the line."
"Well, my horse was a little faster, that was all."
"I see. And… the band of champions. The ones you led into the swamp. By yourself? Everyone was talking of it."
"Oh. That. I wouldn't call them… champions. Well. Not any more."
"Hmm. Well, that's what Wulfgar called them. He said they were coming for the king… Arroch and the oxen all said you ordered them to stay and protect the king, and you led them off into the swamp. Alone. And when you came back, they were gone."
"Ah… I suppose they fought well enough on open ground, but… once I got them into the swamp and the trees… they couldn't fight as well as they thought they could. I was a tree man, dear. You know this."
"Well, the steward stopped by. To thank you. He brought gifts from the king."
"Food?"
Eira laughed softly.
"Of course. The pantry now has a cask of the king's fine-mead. Wulfgar said you better have some with him, its his favorite."
"You said food. That's drink."
Eira laughed again.
"Well… there is a barrel of figs in there. The steward said you have to share with him, his favorite figs… there's a giant wheel of smoked cheese so big, I can barely lift it. One of the Bears stopped by, and brought a… big cask of jerked stag. Cured with honey and spices? He said it's for Thann. I'm sure Thann will share it with you."
At hearing his name mentioned a couple times, Thann leaped quietly up onto the rim of the bath, and walked over and sat down where his head could lie on Ryeamund's hand. Thann sniffed his injured hand, and licked his cut up knuckles.
Then Eira shooed Thann gently away, so she could put her mint poultice on Ryeamund's knuckles and bind them. Thann stepped neatly down into the water, and sat by Ryeamund on the seat in the corner next to him. His little head and neck were all that reached out of the hot water.
Eira already knew Ryeamund favored Thann to be in the bath with him, tired and injured or not. He doted on his little dog something fierce.
"Do you want anything? I am going to the pantry… food? Drink."
"I'm too tired to eat… I just want to soak, before I go to sleep."
"Do you want a goblet of the king's fine-mead?"
"Eh. Aye… it will put me to sleep."
Eira came back and put the big goblet in his hand, as his face was still covered with the hot wet rag he favored. Thann eyed her lazily, and was resting his chin and head on one of Ryeamund's big chest muscles.
"Is… there room in there for me? Or… just Thann."
"Really, Eira… Thann is not some big war dog… he doesn't take up any room in here."
Eira slipped out of her robe and sat next to her "coin beast". Thann opened one eye and closed it, disregarding her. Eira shook her head, and arranged her head onto Ryeamund's other chest muscle.
"Will it be rude, that I didn't go to the feast?"
"Ha. The feast? Will last for days. Yer fine."
By the time Ryeamund was done with the big goblet of fine-mead, it had worked it's wonder on him. Sore and tired, it had all but put him to sleep. When it seemed he was falling asleep, Eira got out and dried off. Thann got out and shook off.
"Come on, dear… I'd let you sleep in here, but I don't want you to drown… bed?"
Eira took the rag off his face and wrung it out, and placed it on the peg it occupied between Ryeamund's baths. He got up groggily, and dried off. Put on his cotton robe. Thann followed the two of them, and Ryeamund fell onto his bed and was falling asleep as quick as he had hoped.
He curled around Eira, and Thann sidled up against the small of his back.
He asked groggily as he was drifting off…
"If the animal chores are already done, can I just roll over tomorrow morning?"
"You can sleep all day, if it pleases you. The work? All done, I would say."
"Any word on Freyer?"
His southern woodcutter friend had been hurt in the battle. Ryeamund had been worrying about his friend, but was so tired he forgot to mention it earlier.
"They have him sewed up with some horsehair. He'll make it. He lost a lot of blood, so, he's weak. But… he has no fever. Just no climbing any trees with you for a while. He should be fine with rest."
"Odin be praised."
Eira didn't even have a chance to say "goodnight", before she heard Ryeamund snoring softly. She nestled into him gently and was soon asleep herself.