Chapter 42 - Chapter 42 - the Searching I

Chapter 42 - the Searching I

   The group of men traveling with armor and heavy armored warhorses stopped for a break under the shade of a particularly large Elm that spread its branches out to provide travelers some mercy from the late autumn sun. They had been on the road traveling for quite some time. This was not what bothered them. What bothered them, was that they were not entirely sure of their destination any longer.

   When they had started out, it had been a couple months journey they had planned on, there and back. Provisions were no issue, as this group had everything they needed, wanted, and even more. They all had sacks of gold on them. Fine, hard, high coin. They could resupply anything at simply any village they passed through.

   The men actually enjoyed traveling. It was novel fun for them. Now truly, a hunting trip this long? Now, that would have been even more fun… but still, this was better than being bored at their home villages.

   When younger, these men had all seen combat. They had all fought in the great tempering. While large pitched battles with the entire kingdom at risk for a prize is not fun, it is exciting. Men that have seen great battles often take long stretches of peacetime for almost boredom.

   Not true boredom, because peace had been the objective of all the fighting. After it was all over though, there was little more to perform in the way of duty than merchant runs and the occasional bandit work in outlying districts. Once the great tempering was over, bandit activity had fallen to its lowest level anyone could remember in their lifetime.

   Hunting was a favorite pastime of many of them. They all had small farms, not that they had grown up wishing to be farmers though. They practiced fighting with each other just to keep their edge, so as to be ready if the kingdom ever needed them again. Yet, some years had come and gone since called upon to do anything except run a few bandits off.

   These were all big-men, clearly. They wore the high king's signature armor, though they had large flowing merchants robes and hooded capes over them. Some wore lighter armor, but were no less dangerous of men. Ravin scouts and hunters provided extra but seemingly not needed additional security. Their scouts were as concerned with popping the occasional fresh game meat with their crossbows, as they were scouting out the road ahead and scanning from the hills.

   In all truth and fairness, the only real "danger" was getting their coin purses pilfered by a slick merchant, but they had enough reckoners with them in their company, even that was no problem. Honestly, the only real enemy? Was time. They were on no tight schedule, and they had all left a month early for their journey. To allow extra time for the unexpected delays, and to otherwise stay longer at their destination. Many of them couldn't wait to meet old friends they hadn't seen in years.

   That is, if they ever reached their destination.

   "How can we possibly be having this much trouble?"

   "We don't know what day it is, because someone can not remember to move the goat fucking string up to the next notch every morning. Perhaps someone else should have been responsible for the map."

   "Oh, piss off. We've all been over the damned map."

   "Then for the love of Odin, why are we marching up and back down the same road again. Every village out these side roads off the main road? We have been to each one twice now. I swear, the villagers and tavern-keepers are having sport with us."

   "Aye, they surely must enjoy our spending coin over and over again in each village. I am not against a merchant turning a profit, yet, I would like to see someone else hand him some coin."

   "Let's go over this again, then… we have to be missing something."

   "Aye! We are! It's called… a destination. I am starting to think, we don't have one!"

   "Would you rather be home, and cleaning up animal shit then?"

   "No, I would not. Yet… I would like to not miss the big feast. This festival is supposed to make Satyr's Day feast look like a MoonDay quick lunch. Do you have any idea how many different vegetables they can grow down here? This place actually has a summer that lasts."

   "Aye… and I would like some new entertainment. Are we not all bored watching the same sport over and over again in our great-houses?"

   "The Ravins are making fun of us, for not knowing where we are going. I am never going to hear the end of this, when we get back home."

   "Well why do the Ravins not know where we are then. Those keen eyed bastards roam all over the kingdom. They act as if they have never heard of this place."

   "I already told you… why would they have ever been here? This is one of the quietest south-lands districts anyone has ever even heard of."

   "Well now, that is one of my main points on the matter then. We have to be close. These villages are all so damned quiet. A few drunken sheep farmers in the taverns. Why, we are in the south-lands! No blacksmiths and woodcutters beating the piss and teeth out of each other. We have to be near the right place."

   "No. No, we don't have to be near it. What garden did you attend to use such logic?"

   "Oh, you. Do not start up on my gardening. Will someone explain to me, how a High Lord… simply disappears into thin air? How can no one have ever heard of him? These villagers all talk as if they have never seen a Lord in their life. How is that even possible? These farmers act as if Magic Fairies rule this district."

   "Well… we were told, we would be amazed at how quiet and peaceful the place was. Use yer helmet man… we have never had to send big-men down this way in over 10 years to settle any of the locals down. This has to be the right place, I am just sure of it."

   "Where are all the road signs?"

   "Why would there even be any. We are so far off the main trading routes, and well into the southern hills. We were told in the one village, that with wool season come and gone, there isn't that much coming and going in these parts. It's a bunch of farming villages, man. The pickles all barter with each other in the market, and the merchants are all low merchants. It's a small pickle barrel, and a farming pickle barrel at that."

   "Yes… yes… we should have brought along a wheat merchant. They are all I know of that travel to these parts."

   The older man in the group finally raised his voice slightly.

   "Will you three put yer teeth together? Let's go over this one more time, then. We have to have missed something."

   "As you wish. Now then, we are on the right road south. We know that much."

   "That much, we are sure of."

   "Fine then. Now, the directions and the map."

   "It's really not that complicated, you empty helmet. You go south, until the road ends. You are actually close at that point, yet, we will get lost in the high hills if we try to cut through the hills. We are to turn around, and take the second road off this main one. That's the village we are looking for."

   "We have done that. Twice now."

   "Aye, we even tried the last road, and the two before the second one back."

   "Maybe… we should try a different tavern in the second road's village. The tavern we went to twice? The farmers did say there were two other taverns."

   "If no one has any better ideas, we might as well enrich that tavern-keeper's pockets. I could stand a hot bath anyways."

   These men were not really capable of actually getting mad at each other. But, like any group of men that live and work together… some unwritten law of male camaraderie requires men to harass and irritate one another with good humor to it.

   "Why can't we try going through the hills, south, at the end of the road?"

   "Oh, you know this already. For the first thing, what do we do with the big carts then. I'm not carrying all this shit up and down these hills. Sure, we could slowly pack up all the horses, but… we can't just leave these great wagons on the side of the road for a moon or two. I would not expect to ever find them again, and I do not want to explain where the wagons went. Or? Pay for them."

   "And, what's the second thing?"

   "We… are… big-men. Wearing armor. Carrying weapons. Fully armored horses. We are fairly close to out-lands. Now… what will the out-lander pickles think, when they see a train of fully armored and weaponed kingsmen, marching around the hills. Do you want to explain to the North Star if we have some sort of problem out of the kingdom? With no command to it. We would look like a bunch of complete idiots."

   "We already look like a bunch of idiots. In case you hadn't noticed."

   "Why would we go that far into the out-lands?"

   "You stupid twat… we have Ravin scouts that do not even know these hills… you think we are going to figure out exactly where we are going, in the high hills and underbrush?"

   "We would find some kind of trails. Probably scout up some woodcutters. They always know the area."

   "Oh. You want to try mixing it up with a big team of southern woodcutters? You do realize, that not much over ten winters back… southern woodcutters rose up and took out several petty kings, aye? Those crazy bastards didn't even wait on the big-men coming down, they went and did it themselves. In these lands? The locals use the woodcutters and the blacksmiths, like we use the big-men up north."

   "Aye, he's right. We would likely end up lost. We don't want to accidentally 'invade' the out-lands and scare those pickles half to death. We honestly have no idea how a big team of crazy southern woodcutters would react to the sight of us."

   "Oh by Odin. We send a ravin scout over, to send them a white arrow into the ground."

   "Oh, so you want to go shooting at a big team of southern woodcutters now? That's yer big plan? Get us lost, get us into trouble, and as a backup… try to get us killed."

   "Don't forget before anything, we leave the high king's great wagons for the locals to find and take."

   The older man, who was sitting amused watching all this good nature bickering, was finishing up his horn of wine.

   "If you are done bickering as three old women?"

   "Aye. We are. What do we do then."

   "I honestly believe we go out the second road. Again. We fan out, and hit all the taverns. And the market. Someone, has to know something, about the High Lord."

   The Ravins joined up with all the big-men, and they once again were at the entrance to the village they had already been to. Twice.

   They stopped at the spring fed fountain just inside the first bit of village, and watered the horses. Two of them agreed to stay here with the carts and the horses, and they formed into four teams that were more or less equal in size.

   The smallest team hit the tavern they had used twice before. Three teams went out to find the other two taverns, and the last team went to ask around the markets.

   The two men staying at the fountain with the horses and wagons and gear, were the first to experience anything odd. The one started getting the feeling they were being watched, and he told his friend. The second asked if it was good watched or bad watched, and the guy just repeated he felt they were being watched, but he couldn't tell which it was.

   Some men that have been in combat for any period of time, as well as many outdoors-men, developed a fairly reliable sort of sixth sense about being watched. During peacetime however, it can be a mixed blessing. The neighbor's house-cat can set your senses jangling all the same as a bandit or a bear.

   Both men knew enough not to start looking around too obviously. The one had been cleaning his very expensive ax he carried. It was a highly polished medium sized great-ax. He started trying to be sly and use it for a mirror to look around and see if anyone was peeping on them.

   "Oh. Do not look now, but, there are I think a couple kids up that thin alley between those buildings behind us."

   "We do stick out like two carrots in a potato patch. I would be much more surprised if young boys didn't come staring at us."

   "Well? Why are they not running up like young boys will do, wanting to pester us, and finger our weapons?"

   "This isn't the far north, you know. When we were younger? There was a lot of trouble with the merchants on errand and the locals around these parts. My uncle always did say, you need eyes in yer ass in the south-lands, wearing armor."

   "So, you think they will be scared of us, then."

   "Or just wary. I'm sure they wonder what we are doing, all loaded up like this, packing all the weapons. They might even have been taught to stay back, and go get someone to examine us, see what we want."

   "Well now. That might produce results, then."

   "Perhaps. Perhaps results we don't want."

   "Remember… we are not here on command work. We are under the strictest orders, to be polite as anything to all the pickles. The high king does not want to start anything up again down here. If those boys come near us? Smile. Laugh. Offer them some dried meat. Be. Nice."

   "How bad was the south-lands, back in the day?"

   "Well… you know the Bear great-house? They all but made a living off of the south-lands. They were constantly going in to taverns, and having to fight their way out of town. I mean, not all the Bears came back from it. That should tell you what it used to be like down here."

   Watching his ax mirror, the one hushed the other.

   "Here we go. Young one coming out…"

   When the young man called out loudly to them, they both turned around. They both smiled and waved. The boy just stood there, and seemed to be talking to some others staying hidden behind the back of the building.

   "Now. Will you look at this."

   "What the…"

   The boy was walking up ever so slowly, and holding his hands far out to his sides, taking extra care to show his empty hands to them. They just kept smiling, and waving gently. The boy got a distance away and stopped. He wouldn't come any closer.

   "What is he doing? Is he drunk?"

   "I don't think so. Honestly, he's acting like he's on the road, approaching armored outlanders, for a parley."

   "Is he… waiting for us to go to him?"

   "I don't think so. Probably scare him."

   "We want to find people to talk to. How do we get him over here."

   They smiled and waved their empty hands at him. The one started waving gently in a "come over" motion. The other man, decided to hold his drinking horn up, and pointed at it.

   "Hey, what young boy doesn't want to get some wine, aye?"

   "I wouldn't go getting the young ones drunk, you fool. We don't know the parents or the customs down here."

   "Oh… a piss squirt of wine, in a horn of water won't do a thing to him. He'll be all excited to tell his friends he was 'drinking' with the men in armor. It might get his friends curious and coming up to us. It's a village, man. Young men know all the gossip."

   They made a show of putting some wine out of a small wooden cask into the horn that already had some water in it. That seemed to win the kid over, at least a little bit. He walked slowly up, but he was still taking great pains to show his empty hands. Which was weird.

   The young man finally stood a couple paces away. Hands still palms out. Quiet. Waiting.

   "Young man! We are well met! Come, sit with us. Here, have a horn of wine."

   "I have no weapons. I just wanted to talk to you, if that is well and good."

   "Aye! All well. Here… sit…"

   The second man moved over to give him room to sit between them on the fountain's edge seat. Handed him a horn with the squirt of wine in the spring water.

   The boy sniffed at it, then drank it slowly. He smiled and nodded his head, which was a polite thank you.

   "Yer a farmer, then?"

   "Aye. My mother and father raise pigs. I mean you no harm."

   "Young man, I would ask you… why are you so wary of the King's men? I had believed everyone knows that the pickles are the High King's favorite things."

   "Aye, young man. Nothing to fear. We are the King's men. We protect the pickles."

   "Have you friends back there? I thought I saw you talking to people."

   "Oh… aye. Me and my friends have seen your armor, more than once. You come in, you go out, you come back again, and on and on it goes. We are most curious. Are there… bandits about?"

   "Nay. No bandits we know of. All the roads seemed safe on our journey here. Tell me, are things safe around here?"

   "Oh, aye. Safe as anything, I think. May I ask what you seek, if not bandits? Are you here to… examine something? Our merchants?"

   "Nay. We are looking for something. We are having trouble finding it. We wanted yer gossip on the matter… to help us. If you would."

   "Can I bring my friends out? They mean you no harm either."

   "Aye! The more gossip on the matter, the better."

   "Shall I call them out?"

   "Aye…"

   The young man called out, and a pair of other young men all around his age came walking up. The same way he had, palms out, walking slowly. Having benefit of seeing him having a horn with the big-men in armor though, they walked up and sat on either side of the two kingsmen, with their friend still in the middle of them.

   They each took horns out, and half filled them with water from the fountain, and tipped a little wine from their little cask into each one, and handed them out to the two newcomers. Each drank it, then nodded politely and smiled.

   The two new boys wondered about bandits, and their friend told them no bandits, these men were here looking for something, and needed their gossip.

   All three were smiling and eager to help.

   "What day is it?", one armored man wanted to know.

   "WodenDay. Have you no day stick?"

   "Aye, yet our friend with the stick? Has not moved the string well enough each morning."

   The boys giggled, such happens to everyone on a trip now and again.

   "Your friends. There are more of you then?"

   "Aye. A small pack of men went to each tavern, and another to the market."

   "Well, the market will not be much until SunDay."

   "What do you search for?"

   "We are looking for the High Lord. Do you know where to find him?"

   The three young men all furrowed their brow, and looked at each other. The two Kingsmen had seen this before. All three shook their heads "no".

   "It is just a farming village. We have no Lords about."

   "We heard this in the tavern. The last two times we were here."

   "So, it was you the last two times we saw you."

   "Aye. Let me ask this, then. You do know, that some High Lord does run this whole district."

   "Aye. But we will never see him. He is always away. No one has ever seen him."

   "All right… suppose you had some… matter. Who would you go to?"

   The three boys looked to one another. They agreed they would first go to their mother and father.

   "All right. Who would your parents go to, with any matter they needed solved."

   The boys talked about it. Two said they would seek the advice of the 'Grays'. The third added, if the Grays were not certain what to do, they would all seek Meyer's opinion. Another boy that had first thought 'Grays', now added Hamer's opinion.

   The two Kingsmen looked at one another. There was a lot of people to go for advice from, for a simple farming village. The one boy that had changed Grays to Hamer, the other Gray boy, added to it.

   "Now, if it is not a serious matter? I would just ask one of the Gentle People. They always have good advice."

   Another boy added more.

   "Well aye, yet, they do not like to be disturbed. You have to wait on their time. Noon lunch is the best time to have their opinions. Or wait for the end of their day."

   The one kingsman looked at the other.

   "You have Gentle People about the village?"

   The boys looked at each other, as if that were the most normal thing in the world.

   "Aye. The Garten. That is their affair. You have to wait on them, though. They do not tolerate being interrupted."

   The Kingsmen looked at one another. If there was a Garten, then there were high reckoners about the village. Which was very odd, given that this little farming village was far off of the main trading routes. Then the one Kingsman noticed that the young men were having no problems speaking with them. There should be short, clipped speech between these two groups of people meeting.

   This was the far south, and, the two kingsmen were from the high north. Now that they thought about it, as soon as they started speaking, the boys had adjusted their speech easily to north-speak. North-speak with a good bit of high north-speak mixed in with it. Which was very odd.

   "The boys said 'Garten', and not 'Garden'. What does that tell you."

   "You young men. You have all been to a Garden, have you not?"

   All three looked at one another.

   "Aye. When I was a wee child, mother would have me stay at the Garden when she was in town. Until I was old enough to be more useful on the farm. All of us spend time there until we are older."

   "Do you young men play dice?"

   All three looked at one another, and nodded back and forth.

   The one Kingsman brought out a long log of dried and spiced meat, and a small knife. Produced a pair of dice. He gave them to the one young man. He rolled and summed the dice each time. None of the other boys had any trouble following the summing of the dice. The boys were instantly playing high dice, and could obviously sum the dice for their rolls. When asked about low dice? They all three laughed, and said they were not wee children, that was all that played low dice.

   Another quickly added, that most of the parents played low dice. But that among the children and young men? You only played low dice when you were very little. All the older children knew how to play high dice. The Kingsmen eyed each other surreptitiously, and they all played high dice for a time, for morsels of the dried meat stick, instead of drinks as adults would have done.

   "You boys have seen Kingsmen before, have you not?"

   "Aye. You have all been here at least twice before."

   "Nay, not us. Not our friends we travel with. Are there Kingsmen about? Men in our armor?"

   The two boys looked at the first one that had approached them, carefully with empty hands.

   "Aye. Once in a great while, we will see armor. They head for a tavern, then they will go and meet with Hamer."

   "Hamer?"

   "Aye. Stewart Hamer."

   "May I ask of you… why did you approach us so warily. Like you were on parley with armored outlanders… when we first met."

   The other two looked sheepishly at the first young man.

   "Aye. The last two Kingsmen we saw? We ran up to them… the one stuck the handle of his axe out, and said it was impolite to run up and put hands on the King's own men. We were to be polite, and call out our intentions, first."

   "Did he now."

   "Aye. He said we might see more armor in a few moons time, that we should be polite and announce our intentions. That was why we were waiting. I said I would call out to you two. Here we are."

   "You were told to be polite to Kingsmen?"

   "Aye. We were told, that the next Kingsmen we met, might not all have high manners. We should call out first."

   The two Kingsmen eyed each other, and nodded back and forth.

   "They have definitely seen big-men before."

   "And… there is definitely a garden running somewhere."

   "Aye. I thought I was in RavinLunden, sitting here playing high dice with young men."

   "Let me try."

   "Go on."

   "Boys? You have seen Kingsmen before. They always go to visit… Hamer?"

   "Yes. Stewart Hamer. Where else would they go, other than a stop at the tavern."

   "Yet, you have never seen the High Lord Mjolnir."

   "Not once. Were someone to have put eyes on the great man? It would be gossip for all time."

   "All right. This Hamer fellow. The man that the men in armor would go see, when they are in. What is his affair?"

   "His farm and family, yet… he is the Stewart. Everything is his affair."

   "Stewart… Hamer. Hamer the Stewart?"

   The young man looked at him, but smiled politely, shook his head yes. The armored man looked at his friend, and raised his finger.

   "Ah. What does a Stewart do?"

   The boy looked at him again.

   "If my father had ten farms, instead of but one farm? He might need a man to help him run things. A man of reckoning. He would oversee things ran smoothly. A Stewart."

   "A… steward?"

   "Yes. Steward, Stewart. Sorry I don't speak high north better."

   "And… Hamer. That is the name of the Steward?"

   "Everyone calls him the Hammerfist, as long as anyone can remember. So… HamerFust? Or… HamerFost?"

   "Or HomerFast. And you call him Hammerfist, because…"

   The boy smiled. Held up his fists, but playfully.

   "He has two war-hammers on the ends of his arms."

   "He fights, then?"

   The boy shook his head no, and quite emphatically.

   "They say, when he arrived here. A long time ago, there were a couple of matters, but… it's been so long, few remember it. But… you only need to lay eyes on the man, and you know not to create a matter with him."

   "Men stay out of his way, then."

   "Oh, no. He is every bit as quiet, and polite… as the instructors at the garten. Which is well and good. He's such a dangerous man, yet… he is more concerned with reckoning. With wisdom. He is the Stewart, after all."

   "So… you have all never once seen the High Lord Mjolnir."

   "No. We likely never will. His Stewart has been sent here, to oversee the High Lord's concerns. He says it is just as well. That Lord Mjolnir? Is a rough and coarse fighting man. With a temper. Lord Mjolnir does not wish to frighten his pickles, and so… he has a Stewart. A Gentle man of reckoning. He says, this is on the example of the North Star. He has a pleasant Stewart, who handles his affairs. So, Lord Mjolnir follows that example."

   "I see. That would seem wise. Now… how would I know the Stewart, if I see him? What does he look like? Is he a big man, I suppose."

   The boy looked at him.

   "He is actually, not that tall. But… he is as wide as he is tall, it you take my meaning."

   "He has grown fat."

   The boy shook his head emphatically, no.

   "He wears loose, flowing clothes most times. Yet… when you see him swimming in the summer, or, working with his shirt off? You would swear, you are looking at Thor himself."

   "Well, can't miss a man like that. And tell me, what does Lord Mjolnir look like."

   "No one would know, yet… many are curious. The Stewart is the only man that deals with him, and not very often. He says, that Lord Mjolnir is a bigger man than he is. The Stewart fought in the Great Tempering, they say. With Lord Mjolnir and the North Star himself. He won't speak of it much. Everyone would know if the tales of the great battle are true."

   "Which tales would those be?"

   "Well. They were all hemmed in. At the base of the great corridor. Protecting the way up. Things were looking not well, and Lord Mjolnir was to have charged the line himself. And broken through. Scattered the enemy's lines. He got down off his war-horse. His great war-hammer in one hand, and his great battle ax in the other. He killed so many men, that they were falling on their own fallen men, trying to get him. Yet, they never did."

   "I have heard that as well."

   "All have, I suppose. He only had a few men in his company, and they got to him, and surrounded him. They slew so many men, they made a pile of the enemy, so large they had to go around it, to try to attack again."

   "I have heard the same, from men that were there. That tale? Is not a tall one."

   "The tale everyone wonders about? Is not that one."

   "Which one, then."

   "They say, it was not so much his fighting, as his battle cry. That you could hear him, clearly, over the noise of all the great battle going on. It is said to shake the ground beneath your feet. It rattles your guts, the way a clap of thunder does so. Then, the men that fight near him on the field? Feel it as well. The men that fought with him, were said to collapse later on, when it left them."

   "Older men that were there? Swear it is true. They can't be talked out of their story. Some people say, that men like Lord Mjolnir? Are the gods themselves. Sent down by Odin himself, to protect his own people. That in the great tempering? Many gods fought. They say that even the old Hunting god? Felt pissed upon, and roused all the MasterHunters to fight."

   "That would be the tall part of the tales, yes."

   "Who can say. Tell me… the Stewart. He has armor?"

   The boy nodded.

   "We almost never see it. He doesn't put armor on, unless he is going off on matters for Lord Mjolnir. I saw him leaving, once. With his armor on. His two giant sons with him. It was quite a sight, to see the three of them, in all their armor, their horses in armor as well. Carrying all their weapons and all. Yet… they are Kingsmen."

   "Two giant sons, you say?"

   "Aye. Perhaps not true giants? Yet… close enough. They are all from the far north, so, it does make sense. He has a third son as well. A foundling. He's not like his father and brothers, though."

   "In what way?"

   "The father, the two giant sons. Kingsmen. Big men, big armor. They sometimes practice fighting. The youngest, the foundling? He's different. He won't fight. He claims he isn't allowed to fight, but… the boys all had a lot of sport with him over it. He gets chased around nearly every day. All he ever did? Goes to the Garten, every day, all day. He finally finished with the Garten, now no one sees him much anymore. Which is odd."

   "What's odd?"

   "He either won't fight… can't fight… or isn't allowed to fight. Then, a short ways back? We saw him. With his brothers. He was in armor as well, though not the king's armor, mind you. A young man that can't fight, that isn't allowed to fight back? What is the purpose of putting him in armor? As I said. It's odd. And, they had the sheep-shit girl with them, going off."

   "There's a girl in town, named sheep-shit?"

   "It's what everyone calls her. Her parents are always in wine before noon every day, and she went to the garten every day, with Shan. She's a foundling as well, as he is. The boys chase him around, and the girls chase her around."

   "Why is her name sheep-shit?"

   "She sleeps in the barn, with the sheep and their shit. She wears burlap sacks, and they smell of sheep shit. Those two? Spend all their time together. He won't fight? And she takes off after bigger boys with a sharpened stick if they bother them. In truth? We're all more scared of her, than him."

   "Now, the boy that won't fight… is starting to wear armor?"

   "Aye. Spent his whole life, becoming nothing but a reckoner. Now? You see him in armor here and there. Odd."

   "Do… you boys think it is wise, to chase another boy around, when he has giant brothers that wear the king's armor? When his father looks, as you say, like Thor himself swimming in the summer? Eh?"

   "Any of them? Run faster, that's all they say. They laugh. As I said, if not for sheep-shit, trying to actually stab us with sharp sticks… it's normal fun every day to chase him around. Before he stopped the Garten, that is. Now? We never see him, but rarely."

   "Your father does not tell you this is rude to behave such? I can understand fun childish squabbles, but… chasing someone every day, just for fun… are you not worried, what might one day happen?"

   "Pffft. He's clearly afraid to fight. His own family? Laughs and tells him he better run faster. When our fathers took us out of the garten, to learn to fight and how to handle a sword or an ax? All he did, was stay in the Garten. Dancing with the children… performing meadow tricks with the girls… playing the childish stick games… our fathers all put a stop to that nonsense, as soon as we were old enough to be useful as a man on the farm, you know."

   "You don't think high reckoning is useful?"

   "To a merchant, perhaps. From going to the garten a few years as children, we all reckon more than all the parents. It's more than any farmer needs. It's silly. Then, the last years? Dancing, tricks, stick games with children. Our fathers will have none of it. I won't say, what some of the fathers say when in their wine, about such."

   "You wouldn't want to offend the Stewart."

   "Um… more his wife, sir. Much more the wife."

   "Really."

   "Now, not my father. And… I do not recall exactly which father might have said this, mind you. But… dancing and meadow tricks? Instead of learning to fight? It's as if they should simply put the boy in a dress."

   "Hmm. Yet… instead of buying him a dress, you have seen him in armor."

   "Yes. And honestly? No one can see the point in that… and with the festival coming up soon… I just don't know about that."

   "The festival?"

   "Yes. The Stewart's family is having it. They are from the far north, and have their own customs. I suppose, far north-men, name their heir. Obviously, the biggest, oldest son. The youngest foundling? Is certainly old enough that… it has been gossiped, that he might be declared a man at the same festival. Sheep-shit has been declared a woman already, so it does make sense. He won't go anywhere without her to protect him."

   "Lots of food, it sounds like."

   "I'm sure of it. All the young men and young women in the village are invited. And our parents. In fact, even the children and their parents. Any child that has spent so much as one day at the Garten? Is invited. Practically everyone will be there. There will be games, as well."

   "Games, you say."

   "Yes. With prizes. We are all to entertain our parents."

   "The young men… will provide the entertainment."

   "Yes. We can win gold, for prizes, in the games. The fathers? Are all going to wager, for fun. A north-man's custom, they say."

   "So, as you say… the men of the village will sit around, and eat and drink. And wager on entertainment. This… entertainment, will be provided by you young men, aye?"

   The young man smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

   "Interesting. What sort of… games."

   "Hmm. Running. Short races for speed. A longer race for distance. The older boys? If the father allows… can be in the fighting games. One, is unarmed. The other? Swords."

   "The men will drink and wager, on their sons sword-fighting?"

   "The edge has to be blunt. You can bring your own, as long as it is examined to be blunt, or, they have there some to choose from. How exciting is all of that, I ask you! The Stewart, oversees a number of blacksmiths, among other things. All blacksmiths have blunted swords to show you what they make, he borrowed all of them for the festival."

   "Sounds like great fun. Tell me, will you and your friends be in the games?"

   "Surely. Any young man that misses out on that, would never hear the end of it. We're all going."

   "Do you suppose, the… quiet, reckoning son… will be in these games, as well?"

   The young man smiled.

   "It is fairly obvious… running games? He wants his gentle son to be able to win something at his parent's own festival. But the fighting games? Not sure as gentle a boy as him would want in on that."

   "Yes. He might not."

   "Are you men here for the festival? We have heard, people would be coming from all over for it. Friends of the Stewart, from the north."

   "Yes. We are. Are any others here yet?"

   "No, you would be the first I have seen. Did we aid you? I mean, in finding what you want."

   "Oh, yes. We definitely are looking for the Stewart. How do we find him?"

   "Not hard. Just go down the main street, that way. When the road narrows, to but a trail? Keep going. It's at the end. You really can't miss it. The house? Looks as a great barn."

   "Many thanks, young man. I suppose, we will go round up our friends and head out, then."

   "Oh. The girl I spoke of…"

   "Sheep-shit?"

   "Yes, her. She now works at the tavern. That one, over there. That, is the quiet tavern. The other two? Might be more to armored men's tastes. The men… boast more there. The gentle son might be close by. With the girl."

   "For his protection, no doubt."

   "Oh. He's friends with the tavern keeper and his family, as well. You men in armor, are easy to spot about the village, you know. Would you think it polite, for me and my friends to round them up for you? Send them here?"

   "I would be pleased. Send them to the quiet tavern, then. And here…"

   He handed out some copper coins, for their help.

   "Are we well met?"

   "Very well."

   "I'll see you at the games, then. Wish me luck."

   He grabbed the tall young man's arm, and felt it.

   "You seem strong. I'm sure you will do fine. And your friends. Not a small young man among you."

   The young men all huddled up, and went separate ways, to send the others to the quiet tavern. They hitched their cart out front, and stood at the doorway.

   "Can't believe we were here three times, and missed it. Yet… I can't wait. It's been a long time, since we all shared some mead."

   "Aye. Good work, by the way."

   "At what?"

   "Getting the boy talking. I could barely keep a straight face. And you? Oh… you just kept him going, on and on."

   "Let them go. Those boys? Are likely going to get hurt… some of them, I am sure. Well? It's a quiet tavern, they say. Surely, this would be the one our man would use, wouldn't you declare?"

   They went in. There was a friendly, older fellow. No doubt the tavern-keeper. Two girls were here as well, and one quite taller than the other.

   "Hey. Do you fine men need a room? Food. Drink."

   "It's been a long journey, keeper. I need many things, I tell you… but… something to drink would definitely top the list."

   "Ale? Wine? Mead? Milk… tea… name it, it's yours."

   "Mead, and water… that'll do for a start."

   The shorter girl saw to it, and helped them hang their things on the pegs on the wall. When one placed his hand politely on the handle of his ax leaning next to him, she smiled.

   "It's not an unruly tavern. Especially this early in the week, and this early in the day. Yet, feel free."

   They looked at one another, and the other nodded. He handed her his ax, and she hefted it up onto a peg, then his friend's as well.

   The keeper drifted over, asked if they liked the mead. Asked where they were from.

   "The far north."

   "Yes, the armor. Just being polite. Whatever else you wish, let one of us in on it."

   "Actually, there is. We… are looking for a young woman."

   "How do you mean? This isn't… that sort of a place, sir… we don't… that? Is my daughter, you understand."

   "No, no, no… we were told, we could find a young woman here."

   "Well? What's her name? I don't know what business you could have with any of my daughters, yet…"

   "If you take no offense? We were told to ask for… Sheep-shit."

   The tall girl? Disappeared into the back for a second, and reappeared with a large wooden rolling pin in her hand. She walked right up to them, and stared him in the eye.

   "You might want to put your helmet back on, if you keep that up. I don't care who you are."

   He smiled, and raised both hands up, politely.

   "That's what I was told. By young men at the fountain. As I said, I mean no offense."

   "And? You give it anyways. My name, if you would not mind it? Is Gullina. Are… those young men still out there?"

   "No, they ran off."

   "Just as well. I'd run them off, if they had not run themselves off. Your new young friends? Were trying to get you hit over the head with the tavern mistress's rolling pin. They were having some sport with you, they would not themselves much enjoy."

   "Are we well met, Gullina?"

   "Hmm. Aye. You two seem to have the high manners of the other two Kingsmen I already know. If you could manage to remember my name is Gullina, and not sheep-shit? We will be very well met, indeed."

   "Gullina. That's a pretty necklace you wear. May I ask of it?"

   "What of it? It's a geft."

   "I'm pretty certain, I have seen it before. That is a sign coin, is it not."

   "It is."

   "Given to you, by the Lady Eira?"

   "Yes."

   "Then… you are the Lady Gullina."

   "Her family calls me that."

   "Lady Eira sent word. I thought I would have to wait to meet you. It's my honor, to meet a Kingmaker. We heard of you."

   "You men are here for the feast, no doubt."

   "We are. We can't wait. I heard no others are in yet. We are the first?"

   "Aye, you are. What shall I call you? You already know I'm Gullina."

   "You are the Lady Gullina. I? Am Theyer. And this, is Sooth."

   "You two do have the manners of Gareen and Mekall. Those being the other two kingsmen I ever met."

   "Hard to believe they're all grown up now. Big-men, are they?"

   Gullina rolled her eyes.

   "Quite. They're larger than all the men around the village, even without their armor. You two? Are older than them. You must be friends of the Steward."

   "Aye. We are."

   "I know the king's armor, I've seen it. But… you two… have the same crest as Gareen and Mekall wear. On their armor."

   "Keen eye, Lady Gullina. We are all Oxen."

   "Oh my… you… the Oxen?"

   "Depends what you have heard."

   "You two… you fought with the Steward then. In the great tempering. You… fought with the high king himself. And Lord Mjolnir?"

   "Aye. Lord Mjolnir was an Oxen back then. Before he was a high lord."

   "You men are lucky to be alive, after all that. The Oxen? They were around the high king himself, and Lord Mjolnir. Right in the middle of it all."

   They looked at each other.

   "Aye. We each got a few scratches in that. Hard to go swimming, without little kids always running up and touching the scars. We were lucky. Many brave men died that day. With any luck, that entertainment won't need repeated any time soon. We like to think the outlanders learned their lesson. But, as the scrolls say…"

   Gullina finished it for him.

   "…those without scrolls, have short memories."

   "Aye. Eira did send word, her new Kingmaker was very well gartened."

   "The tavern likes having a reckoner about, but, can't say the same for the rest of the village. High reckoning isn't worth much around here."

   "It should be. Things will change, I am sure."

   "Do… you men want a room? Rooms? I would say, claim them now. Others will be coming in. Or… are you going to stay at the Steward's house."

   "Some others are coming here, to meet us. The rest of the group? We'll send someone out to collect them. Now… the young men, the ones that almost got my helmet dented in. They tell me, you… are friends with the Steward's son?"

   Gullina smiled.

   "More than friends."

   "You have competition? Or your coin would be around his neck, I would think."

   "That. He won't wear it around here, until he's been declared. It's no secret though. He's worn it before, when we traveled. Everyone knows."

   "Will he be along?"

   "Shan?"

   "Yes."

   "Shan and Lady Eira are across the street. At the Garten. It's agility day, if you wondered."

   "I wouldn't want to disturb the instructors…"

   "No. They'll be outside, in the courtyard out the back. Would you like me to take you?"

   "If you would."

   Gullina went in the Garten, and a robed instructor came out and greeted them warmly. They could hear all the children out back, seemingly at play. The four of them stood and watched from out the back door. The children were lining up, and racing down the two thin wooden beams. Eira was handing out little chunks of sweetbread to the "winners". Some of the girls were doing handstands and somersaults down the beams, others doing dancing and meadow tricks. One little girl was particularly adept at seeming as if she all but walked on air. She was playing at helping a few other girls her age do it better, imitating her.

   Eventually, Eira looked up and saw them. She cocked her head, and furrowed her brow for an instant, then came running over. Hugged both of them, and all but squealed with delight. A tall and somewhat slender young man, was rolling around in play with the children. He sometimes swept them off their feet suddenly, but catching them as they fell, quite carefully. The children squealed in play as little ones will. They were being taught to sweep a man off his feet, after they were themselves felled… and didn't even know it. When older? If they had the required character? Someone could take over and show them how dangerous their childish games had all been as toddlers.

   The tall young man stood up, and got out of the pile of playing children. Some tagged along, pulling at him. He was so tall in fact, that he looked more slender than he really was. He walked over, and stood with Eira and the instructor and their two visitors. He stood patiently.

   "Shan. These are friends, from the far north. This is Theyer, this is Sooth. We all grew up together. I ran the great-house kitchen that these two drank mead and misbehaved in. They are all but brothers, to your father."

   "I'm honored to meet you. Father speaks very highly of the other Oxen."

   "So. You're to be the new Kingsman, are you?"

   "Not if I don't examine well, I'm not."

   "Well? What would you think at first eyes, Sooth… he's a little short for a Kingsman. We need tall men."

   Both armored men laughed. Shan was looking down at everyone. He still had the slender of youth, but, at his height and reach? They approved.

   "Theyer? I thought we only grew them this tall, up north, in the cold."

   "Hold your hand out, son."

   Sooth had him put his fist gently against his own forehead, and attempted to reach Shan's head. It was beyond impossible. He had the reach of a grappling hook. Both men laughed at his disadvantage.

   "First we had Little Rye. Now? We shall have a Little Shan."

   "Hmm. You should see my two older brothers. I'm rather the runt of the litter."

   "You're young yet, son. And you've plenty of Rhyshian blood in you. These people you find around you… they quit growing tall, and thicken up early. Grow hairy. Rhyshian men? Take on beard later, and don't thicken up for a few winters. There's no telling how thick you might end up. And the reach of that long sword arm? Oh. You can poke a man from across the field, I think."

   "You are too kind, sir. I… am not thought to be a dangerous man, in the village."

   Theyer and Sooth both could barely contain their laughter.

   "Young man? I'm not some barbarian from around this place, I know better. These hairy fools? Mistake gentle, for weak. You? Are going to provide us with great entertainment, I am sure. Sooth? The wagering? Oh… this is going to be, perhaps, even more fun than looting the Bear's purse."

   "Oh, aye. And it being Little Rye's son, doing it? Ha!"

   Shan smiled politely.

   "Who… is the Bear?"

   Both men laughed more.

   "The Bear? Was a burden. The Bear? Is no more. Now, after the games are over? When we're in our goblets, remind us. We'll tell you about the night the Ox finally gored the Bear. I swear, little children sing rhymes about it."

   Both enjoyed the memory, and laughed more. Both even sang together a bit.

   "The Ox gored the Bear, the Ox gored the Bear…"

   "Eira?"

   "Yes… you two fools."

   "We met your Kingmaker. She's as tall as you, and the hair and skin? She could be your very own daughter. So, that's what became of the foundling you brought down. She's an impressive woman. Seems well Gartened, too."

   "She is. After the Tempering? There were far too many sons and daughters of Odin. Instructing at the Garten? I got to meet them all. I had to pick her out. She walked and talked so early. So tall. And so quick witted. You'd like to take them all, but, you can't. As a kingmaker? I had first choice."

   "She was raised by…"

   "Oh, go on. Drunken sheep farmers. She's well gartened, though. And, not the least bit spoiled. The highest manners, as well. I'm quite proud of her. High reckoning, and you should see her. Nimble as a cat. Chases the older boys down with a sharpened stick. It's quite a sight."

   "You watched over her then."

   "Oh. To be sure. She came into the Garten with a black eye, a couple of times. I had a little talk with the parents. You know how things are. If you explain things correctly, it doesn't happen again."

   "Why don't I know of this, mother?"

   "Because, Shan. You? Were very young then. You and her have been playing together since you were tiny. The parents got a few small coins now and again, to keep a foundling, but… I wouldn't stand for them marking her up. I waited until the father was in the fields. I stopped by with a little geft for the mother."

   Sooth rolled his eyes, and repeated the words "a geft…" as if it were a punchline.

   "She admitted she had hit the girl a couple times. I closed both her eyes for it. When the drunken husband thought he was going to say something about it? Well… I cut him off, in mid sentence. With my knife at his throat. I explained what I had done. I explained why. I also explained, that if he was interested in making a matter of it? He could explain to the steward, why they were punching such a small child. Now Shan… you know your father."

   "Yes."

   "Is anyone allowed to kick a dog or cat in front of him?"

   "Certainly not."

   "Now… imagine, if you will. I explain to your father, that drunken barbarians are punching a wee girl child in the face."

   Shan made a face.

   "Oh… that? Would be bad."

   "Yes, it would. They wisely accepted my most gracious terms. I must have explained it correctly. One short lesson? And I haven't seen so much as a scratch on the girl since that day."

   "Mother. Really."

   "What. I only wish slightly better barbarians had been unable to bear children in the village, but… as luck would have it. Those two. I worked with what clay I was given on that count. Those two fools? Served their purpose."

   "Hmm. Mother?"

   "Yes, dear."

   "I am remembering that day, with the drunken woolers, at the tavern."

   "Oh. That. Yes?"

   "I remember thinking you just happened to come along and hear them. Yet… you had it all planned out."

   "I had my suspicions. Where else but the tavern, would my high reckoning son hear such things. And during wooler season? Please. That was no great puzzle, Shan. What makes you bring this up now?"

   "Just that… much like that day? You were planning things well before they happened. I'd always thought, having Gullina around to play with… was much more of a happy accident, than it now seems to be."

   "I could not possibly have planned all this out. You two? Could have grown up hating each other. As if anyone can control children and their fickle ways."

   "Yet…"

   "Hmm. You were both raised foundlings. You both look different from all these… hairy little creatures. You're both tall. Fair skin. Both quick witted, from birth. You're both full of Rhyshian blood."

   "But… you planned all this…"

   Eira smiled.

   "Did I?"

   "Mother. You are… devious."

   Eira laughed.

   "Son? We all see the eyes you two make at each other. Are you not happy? Truthfully."

   "Yes. I am."

   "Boys? Tell him, if you would. If we lived in the far north… how great a prize, would his Lady Gullina be up there? I mean seriously now, a Kingmaker for a wench."

   Both looked at each other, then to Shan.

   "Shan? Up north… men would come to blows, to see who gets to sit next to a kingmaker, at a SatyrDay feast. To get to wear her coin? They would kill each other, if it came down to it."

   "Well, mother. I guess that all solves a puzzle."

   "Really? Which one, dear."

   "The missing sweetbread? It's Gullina. She… is the missing sweetbread."

   "Is she?"

   "She sure seems to be."

   "Well, I suppose she is. But… you never know. Could be like a spring's egg hunt. There could be more missing sweetbread out the pantry. You just never know, do you."

   "That's my luck, then."

   "What, dear."

   "My wench has all these honors, and I'm not even a Kingsman yet. Let alone seen about my Lordship."

   "Don't worry about such things, son. I'm sure you'll be fine. Well boys… should we eat and drink something? Then, I suppose we have to go out to the farm. I just know, you boys are dying to meet the Steward."

   "Our Little Rye. Now? A steward. To such a great man, as the High Lord Mjolnir. Now that? Really is something."

   "Isn't it?"

   "It is… hard to believe, yet? There it is… tavern?"

   "Tavern."

   They all bid the instructor well, and complimented him on how well his Garten was running, as they left. They didn't get far towards the tavern, before they saw a group of tall men in armor, all lazing around the cart. Heads were poking out of the alleyways and doorways here and there, people sneaking peeks at the goings on that were such a novelty.

   Shan was polite, as everyone hugged Eira. She knew all these people, and both her and the guests were obviously overjoyed to meet again.

   "Arroch. You big, dim ox. How have you been?"

   "Well enough, cousin."

   "Are you off of handle errand now?"

   "Oh, yer funny, aren't you. Honestly? More work on the farm, than anything else. Very little command work. It's a quiet kingdom. Every year, it's the same thing. A few bandits, a few unruly taverns. Nothing big."

   "So… where are the girls?"

   A tall man in armor, cloaked in a flowing merchant robe… smiled and jerked a thumb at the tavern door.

   "You let them in there, unsupervised? They know these are taverns, not great-houses, right? No… entertainment."

   The man smiled.

   "One is a wee bit louder than the other two. Guess which one?"

   "Oh. I could never puzzle it out. We best get in there. I can hear her from out here."

   "Shan?"

   "Yes, mother."

   "You've never seen women in armor, have you?"

   "Only you."

   "Right. My three ladies are in there. I've told you about them before."

   "Yes. The Valkyrim."

   "We used to all run together, when I was young. We were a pack. Some of the girls… well… there's no gentle way to put it, dear. They are a lot of things, but… shy? Not one of them. Prepare yourself."

   "Mother. I will be polite to your friends. Do not worry."

   "No dear. I'm more worried about how impolite you might find them. These are not short, quiet, southern girls. Full northern Ravens, all of them, Odin bless their hearts."

   "How novel. Are they from the red line, as you and Gullina are?"

   "No dear. Blonde line. And… you may see me… act up a wee bit with them at times. You know, when we get in our mead? Think nothing of it."

   When they went in, they could hear Var above all else. She was laughing and carrying on. Hlin was in on it, but not nearly as loud. Syn was quiet and off to the side. All three were behind the bar, and serving everyone, with Gullina helping them. The barkeeper and his daughter were seated at the bar with all the other customers. Eira started to apologize, but the tavern-keeper laughed her off.

   "They did say, they tended a great tavern up north. They've already paid for everything, and extra to have the run of the place. I don't mind. Me and the daughter, are sitting here getting served. Quite a change from what I'm used to, I tell you."

   "Oh, I'm sure. Are you certain you're not displeased? I am sure I can get them to calm down and get them out of here."

   "Oh, it's fine."

   All three girls were women now, like Eira. They were still pretty, tall, tan and blonde… but with the slight wrinkling at the corner of the eyes that time gives a woman. None of them had grown fat though, and Var yelled at Eira how happy she was, to not find "her Lady" having grown fat and lazy.

   Everyone had been given plates of what looked like roasted pig, with lots of vegetables. Most of the men, and the women as well… were picking up various vegetables, sniffing them, regarding them, wondering what they were. Before they ate them after exploratory nibbles. It was obvious the warm southern lowlands afforded a much longer season for growing vegetables, and provided a much larger variety.

   Eira was relieved to notice everyone was taking turns complimenting the tavern-keeper, clapping him on the shoulder, and speaking politely to him. Var and Hlin were hanging their arms around Gullina, and taking turns talking to her. Gullina seemed happy with the attention.

   Var caught Eira's eye, and pointed at her sign coin on the girl's neck. Eira smiled and nodded. Var got everyone's attention, and demanded a toast. To Eira's new Lady and Kingmaker. Gullina looked like she was going to die of embarrassment, but smiled none the less. Eira moved over towards them.

   "Var, don't scare the poor girl. Remember, she was raised southern."

   "Eira, I can't believe it. She's almost as tall as you, and she looks like she could be your own daughter."

   "I'm very proud of her, Var. I can tell you, my Shan, and her? The only two children that went all through the garten to the end. All the other parents? Act as if it's some convenient place, to have the little children watched while they are in town for a few hours. They yank them out of Garten after a couple winters, and set them to work on the farms, as if the children are plow animals."

   "She told me about chasing the older boys off with sharpened sticks. When are you going to put a metal stick in her hands? Look at those long arms and legs."

   "We're getting to that soon, Var. Once we're out at the farm? Maybe you girls can get her to have some fun, eh?"

   Var kissed the younger girl's cheek.

   "Well? Do you wanna have some fun, learn how to run a man through with a metal stick, instead of a wooden one? If you're going to chase men around with sticks, at least do it right."

   "If Lady Eira approves, I'll try it."

   The girls cheered her.

   "Eira? This is the third great--- I mean tavern, I've been to here. Not one of them has a bath house. Not… a… one. We started the trip out? It was wonderful weather. Crisp nights and mornings. Now? I'm roasting the second half of the trip, as soon I got down the damn corridor."

   "Yes. Once you're all the way down the corridor? The weather gets warmer, and it keeps getting warmer as you make your way here. The days are much longer too, in the summers. Summer? Seems to last forever down here. The winters? Pffft."

   "Look at me, Eira… I'm in armor and leather. Been three days since I jumped in a stream. I'm sure I smell, like a well fucked goat's ass. All I can find? Is that duck pond back there. I was all set to get undressed and get in there, everyone stopped me."

   "Var. Try to remember. Shy in the south…"

   "I know… bold in the north. I always wondered about that. It's really that bad?"

   "Var? Down here… men and women… they don't bathe together. Maybe husbands and wives, but… even then? Not usually."

   "How do they swim?"

   "Uh… they more or less, everyone leaves their clothes on, when they swim. Again, unless a man and a woman are alone, but… that's the custom down here."

   "Okay. So, in the summer… you go off, and you jump in a pond or a stream, I get that. By yourself, Odin forbid you have someone to eat and talk with while bathing. But… what do they do in winter? You're supposed to what, not bathe all winter."

   "They bathe, even in winter, Var."

   "Where? No bath houses…"

   "Well. Remember, when we did dishes in the great-house after a meal?"

   "Yeah. A big wooden bucket. What else are you gonna wash dishes in, anyways."

   "All right. It looks like that. They call it a washtub. You fill it up with water, and you stand in it. You can wash, and… you reach down and pour water over yourself to rinse."

   "You stand. In a bucket. In what, ankle deep water? And… you take a tea bowl and drip a few drops over you now and again? Ugh. Where's the dirt supposed to go. You need some water. What you are describing? Maybe you could bathe a pet duck like that, but… ugh."

   "Var? Don't worry. We have two full bath houses, at our great-house. Me and Little Rye have our own, and the kids have their own. Naturally, with everyone coming in? We'll keep both open and running all day and night."

   "Odin be praised, Eira. I honestly got worried, I was gonna have to go out and smear some duck shit all over me, just so I could smell a little better. How is it… I mean, is it big enough to have food and drink in there? Have a few people and talk?"

   "Remember our great-house up north?"

   "Sure."

   "Two of those. Same size."

   "Eira? You've saved me."

   "Var?"

   "Yes…"

   "Remember my swords?"

   "Of course. I plan on you using them, you know."

   "You'll find them hanging up, in one of the bathhouses."

   "I brought both of my own, but, thank you. That? Is a nice touch. Husband!"

   One of the robed and armored men looked over.   

   "Yes…"

   "You can plan on being goat fucked, at sword's point, tonight! And I don't care who comes to watch!"

   Shan stood there, impassive and polite. Eira hid her face in her hands. Everyone wearing the mark of the Ox on their armor? Roared approval and toasted it. The tavern-keeper waited for the din to die down a tad. Then, he spoke to the man seated next to himself at his own bar, who just happened to be the "husband" in question.

   "That's your wife?"

   "Yes."

   "You're all joking, yes?"

   "About what."

   "She's going to take you, at sword-point? In the hot bath? People can watch?"

   "It's my wife. Why not."

   "At sword point?"

   "So. To tell the truth of it? She's had a couple horns of your excellent mead, keep. I can most likely talk her into keeping some of the armor on, eh? Eh?"

   "Armor?"

   "Sure. Just look at her, man. So tall. So tan. Strong. Proud. Very high spirited, that one. You can't imagine, a woman as strong, as pretty as that… coming and taking you? Odin favors me, to give me such a geft in this life. You're a married man, yes?"

   "Yes."

   "I know, you have daughters. You mean to tell me, your woman never wears armor, and takes you at sword-point?"

   "Not once."

   "Oh, you poor man. I tell you, you've never lived."

   The man next to him dryly observed.

   "Being goat fucked, at point? Great sport, man. You should try it. Live a little. All us Oxen have done it. It's fun!"

   "I've no idea what the wife would say to me. Not sure I want to know."

   "I understand. You're born and raised here. Everyone is shy in the south, I know that. I traveled down through the south-lands, on command work, when younger. I remember."

   "Everyone, men and women… bathe together? In large baths?"

   "Sure. Why not."

   "Without clothes?"

   "You southerners, you bathe with your clothes on?"

   "No."

   "We don't bathe with our clothes on, either. So, when we bathe? Sure. We take our clothes off."

   "Men… and women?"

   "Look… don't you all… in the summer. It's hot out. Don't a group of you, all jump in some pond? Friends. Couples. Some food, some drink. You enjoy the day in the water, aye?"

   "Sure."

   "All right. So… you build a… well, it looks like a small stone pond. You have a fire going under it, to heat the water and the room up nice and hot. And… you and your friends? You get some ale, some food, you go in and enjoy it. But… you can do this in winter! In a hot summer? You don't build the fire, the water is nice and cold. Just the thing, after working in the field all day on yer farm."

   "It makes sense, I suppose, yet…"

   "I know what you'll say next. Oh my, people have no clothes on. I have no answer to that, man. Men and women, seeing each other? Why is that such a bad thing."

   "How… how do you know which kids are to who?"

   "What do you mean? Your own kids, come out of your own wife's belly."

   "But… if everyone… is always naked and drunk…"

   "Oh. Were you never with any other women? When you were a younger man, I mean."

   "I might have been."

   "Yes. And I might have been as well. When a man is young? He wenches around a bit, eh? We all do it. Now… when you find that one woman, and you know the one. Your wife… that's it. I'm only with my woman now. My man here? He's only with his woman now. But… if the four of us, want to eat and drink and relax in the hot water in the dead of the cold winter… nothing indecent about it. His wife? Doesn't sit in my lap. My wife? Doesn't sit in his lap. Now… if someone sees a wee bit of something, getting in and out the water? Pah…"

   "It just sounds strange, if you take no offense."

   "No offense taken, old man. I believe I know what you think. It… it's not some orgy, you know. As I say, imagine you and your friends are swimming in the pond, in summer. You just do it indoors. Now… if all you southerners are scared of seeing a woman or a man in water? I can't help you with that."

   "But… those two…"

   "Oh. If they start anything in there? The other people will be polite and leave. We don't stand and stare. But… if you see it, you don't have to run. You toast them, you laugh, and you walk away."

   "If you say so."

   "Here, tell me this. As a young man, and we were all young once, eh? You and a friend… you go out drinking… you have fun at some tavern the next village over… now then. You both meet pretty, high spirited wenches. I mean, Odin favors us some nights, it happens, yes?"

   "Sure."

   "You are looking around, where to take these women… am I right?"

   "Mm. Okay."

   "Hey… the barn. Now, young men, young women… some ale… you're in the barn… we all can imagine what might go on, eh? When we are young."

   "I could imagine that."

   "See? North, south. We're all the same, man… we both enjoy the same things. Some ale, some willing wenches… some fresh hay. The only difference? We're not ashamed of it in the north. Here, in the south? Everyone seems ashamed they do it."

   "Your wife. The armor. She carries a sword?"

   "Two swords, actually. Why."

   "What for?"

   "The one sword? Her right hand. The other? Her left hand. The armor? So she doesn't get poked in the belly with some other sword. We're traveling a long ways, man. Not that many bandits about these days, but, best to be safe."

   "She… can fight? With swords."

   "Oh. Quite well. You should see her practicing, her and the girls? Now, that's entertainment. Most men? Would not face her with a sword in her hand, if she were serious about it."

   "I've not heard of such a thing."

   "How does your wife protect herself. Here in the tavern, if things get unruly."

   "Actually, she's well known to clunk a drunk fool over the head with her large wooden rolling pin."

   "Ah. Good for her. Works, does it not? Settles them right down, I wager."

   "Oh, aye."

   "Mine? Knows how to use a sword. Once again, are we so different, north and south? Just a different weapon."

   "I've seen the Lady Eira over there, put a knife to a man's throat once or twice, to get her point across."

   "I'm sure of it. Lady Eira? When younger? Ran with those three. She has the same armor still, I'm sure she kept it. Eira? Is positively wicked with a blade in her hands. Now, good tavern keeper… you will be at the feast, will you not?"

   "Aye. I'm friends with the family. My wife and daughters as well, we should all be out."

   "Ah, good. You're a friendly fellow. I like you. I'm fairly certain, that Lady Eira and these three? Will be putting on a show for the men. You'll get to see some real swordplay, man."

   "Who teaches women to sword-fight?"

   "Oh. You see… that man? There."

   "Oh. The quiet older man. He likes the tea."

   "That's him. Quiet, polite. He's a high reckoner, like Eira. He loves his tea. That? Is one of, no… the most dangerous man in the entire kingdom. I swear it."

   "Really?"

   "Oh, Aye."

   "He's so quiet. So… polite."

   "Oh. He is polite. That, I swear to you. That, is Wulfgar. The high king's right hand man. Him and the North Star? Forged the kingdom when they were young. The men? Call him Death. They say, he's killed more men than old age and sickness ever did. That, is who taught those women to handle a sword. Lady Eira?"

   "Yes."

   "She lost her parents when a wee one. That, was her guardian. Those other three? Her best friends from when young. Her ladies in waiting. Eira and her friends there, they grew up around the best blade-masters and hunters. The men? Have nothing over them, except they can pick up a bigger rock, perhaps. That's about it."

   "Hey, Wolf!"

   Wulfgar smiled and waved.

   "You having fun, man?"

   Wulfgar made his way over.

   "Oh, I am. I like traveling, really, I do. Now, keeper… once again? I like your tea, man. Please, remind me if I forget, to buy some and take back. It's simply wonderful, to get something new, now and again."

   "Are you excited to get to see Eira and Little Rye's great-house? If you heard, there's two bath houses."

   "Oh, I heard, I heard. Now… I'm going to attempt, to go into the other bath house. And have a quiet bath. You know, no swords and no goat fucking? I want to soak my old bones, is what I want."

   "Var has been teasing me. She says, some bird has been shitting in my hair."

   "Oh. Is that where the white hairs come from? I had wondered about that one. Perhaps I'll have to start wearing a helmet more often, I seem to have a more advanced case of it…"

   "You're not so old, Wolf."

   "No, I'm not. Yet… I know I'm not young anymore. I'm looking at Eira's son over there? It's making me feel older. I can remember bouncing her on my knee. Then? Eira's new lady, making eyes at him, he's making eyes back at her… there's going to be grandchildren soon, I can see it. Now… what pleasant stories, am I going to tell wee ones? My whole life just about, spent going about the business of… the kingdom."

   "You get to take a break now, Wolf."

   "Oh, I do. I tell you, I do. And… I just don't know what to do with myself, some days. I can only ruin my farm so many hours, before I have to just laugh and quit. I'm finally happy with some of my students taking over a bit now and then. They seem to be able to handle that for me, mostly."

   "You will find something to do."

   "I tell you, when I get back? I have a plan."

   "For what?"

   "For me. And the North Star… you know, how many times, have you heard me or him complaining. How when we were young, we enjoyed hunting. Then? The Forging. Then? The Great Troubles. You get that settled? Bandits again. Then it's something else starts up. It never ends. Anyways, with students I trust teaching the blade classes now? Me and the North Star… we? Are going hunting again. We're not getting younger, and we can still go do it, so… we're going to go. I can't remember the last time, I ate my own stag I brought down."

   "Will the North Star be coming down?"

   "I'm pretty sure, the steward is making the trip. Oh, don't worry, we're sending a bunch of Ravins with him, he'll be fine. Can you just imagine what traveling with that bunch would be like? You wonder why I wanted to go with you. Now, everyone knows, that I love the Steward dearly, but… he's simply no fun to travel with."

   "I've never traveled with the man, what's he like?"

   "Oh. He complains. The ground is too hard. Well? It's the ground, man… if it were soft? We'd be sleeping in the mud, and no one wants that. Now… remember that one district we came through on our way here? That really unruly one…"

   "Oh yeah… keeper? We're coming through at night, and there's a village. We see a tavern, and out comes two guys rolling around, beating the piss out of each other. We look through the doors? The whole place is going at it. Chairs flying, the works. We just went on through, and didn't stop."

   "Right… can you just imagine being with the Steward, for that. Why is the kingdom like this? Why are these men doing this? What's the problem around here? Now, good keeper… I simply love this district, I'm telling you the truth. So peaceful. I hear no fighting, no yelling. The next district over? By Odin, I thought the Great Troubles were breaking out again. I asked? No, it's always like that. Goodness, how can people live like that? I can't imagine. Now, I love the peace and quiet here. What… is the secret."

   "Hmm. Now mind you, this is the… we call it the quiet tavern. We don't want the boasting and fighting every weeks end. We tell them, go to one of the other two taverns for that sort of thing. This? I want it to be the place you and your wife and your kid can come to. Have an ale, some food. Relax. My daughters play music."

   "Well, that's your tavern. How is the district so quiet? What's the secret ingredient."

   "If I had to pick one thing? I think… people need someone, somewhere to go… to settle disputes. To put a firm hand on problems before they get to fighting over it. Maybe… every village having a Meyer helps."

   "What's a Meyer?"

   "The steward explains it best. The district? Is a small one, it's not a huge district… and even at that, he says it's simply too big for one man to oversee the whole thing. Now, everyone has a council of grays, but, it's not organized. And, really the grays can hand out advice, but, not do anything about it. Now, the village all votes and picks a Meyer. He watches the village customs. If the same problems rise up? He might want to set a custom. To try to prevent the problems. He needs to get it approved by the Steward, of course."

   "Doesn't seem like much of a thing."

   "It's not really, but maybe it is. The Meyer? Meets with the grays. They sit in council. Now… let's say, two men are always going at it, over whatever. You bring them before the Meyer, and the grays are with him, they sit in council. They hear both sides. They try to make a decision, or, a compromise. It doesn't work every time, but, many times it does. Any villager can come and listen, speak on it if they need to."

   Wulfgar rubbed his chin, thinking.

   "Now… other kingdoms are similar. Their king, appoints men to go and sit…"

   "Ah. Always the nobles they send to sit on the villagers. Every time. You can't… just put some man in charge of everything, and let him go. Sooner or later? He has friends, they get to do what they want. Everyone else? In trouble for nothing if they don't go along. What happens, when some big merchant comes along, and hands over a bucket of gold? Well… we all know what happens. Here? Hmm. One time, some big merchant came in, and I suppose he tried that. With the Steward."

   "Oh. How did that go, then."

   "I guess it was one of those big merchants. You know, the kind that has a shop in every other village all over?"

   "A middle merchant."

   "Aye. He must have tried to give a big, and I mean a big… sack of gold to the Steward. You know… so it would make it so he could run things to suit himself."

   "Did it work out?"

   "Not at all. I've honestly not often seen the Steward mad? He really won't hardly raise his voice. He… was… fuming. He dragged this merchant. Into the center of the village? Smacked him around a bit. Now, he had men with him, I suppose that was so he could do what he wanted, I don't really know. They all got into it with the Steward, and that did not end well for them. When he was done with them, and it didn't take long, mind you… he showed everyone, this giant sack of gold. Hard coin. He goes and throws it down a really deep well."

   "He didn't…"

   "He did. That's the other thing, I guess. The Steward? Can't be bought with a sack of gold. He's not scared of a gang of rough men, either."

   "It's down a well?"

   "A really deep one. An old well. Oh, for the next… two winters? It was the thing, to try to figure out a way to get it up. I mean, a free sack of gold, and it's a big sack. Eventually, someone brought the sack up. They were using hooks, on ropes… I guess the sack rotted and came apart, now? The gold's down there, never to be seen again. The Steward? Thinks it's the funniest thing."

   "Hmm. It's not as if the North Star has never had men come, bring a barrel of gold, try to get him to give them the run of something or another across the kingdom. Oh, he hits the timbers. They're lucky to get out his great-house with their lives… I remember one time, he's just throwing these gold bars at them. Now, mind you… gold is heavy. Small bars? Weigh more than iron weighs. When he hit one with them? It was worse than getting hit with a large stone. Funniest thing I saw in several winters."

   "So there you go. You need a man, or men… that can't be bought. Men not for sale. The North Star… our steward… men like that are rare."

   "The steward. He really doesn't care about gold, does he?"

   "Oh, not at all. He doesn't even run his entire farm. He won't plant a field any bigger than the normal size farms, he won't run any herd bigger than any normal farm around here. He has more land, he's the steward for the love of Odin… says he has more than he needs as it is."

   "And, one more thing. The garten? You have seen this garten going now for a while… what do you think of it."

   "Now, I'm a merchant. Merchants? Love having a reckoner. Me? Out of three taverns, I'm the only one with a high reckoner. I love it. Makes my life so much easier. So much less work. But over the village? Hmm. I would say this… the longer the children go to it, the longer they stay in it? The quieter and the more polite they are, even later in life. Seeing that now, over time? I wish we could make them all go to the Garten, and finish. A whole town full of high reckoners? All with high manners? All polite and gracious? I mean, that's never going to happen, but… that's what I've seen."

   "Really."

   "Oh yes. Talk to Shan over there, or Gullina. Quiet. Polite. Such manners. Then? Talk to some of the others their age around town. Almost every time, you can just about tell from talking to them, how long and how often they were at the Garten. If you could… come up with some custom, to entice them to all have their kids there longer? You would really have something."

   "Interesting. Now. The Steward? He's an old friend. I'd like to thank you, myself, for helping look after his son. Eira speaks very highly of you, I'll have you know."

   "Oh. I didn't do much. When he was little, the other boys were giving him problems. Always chasing him around. I saw it one time too many, and… I had him in for his Garten lunch. Such a polite little boy. Talks like a little adult. Well, I started having him in for his lunch, to keep him safer, you know. My wife and daughters liked him as well."

   "That's how you met the family."

   "I already knew them, of course. Nice people. The mother didn't want him to be a burden, you know, a little kid in the tavern every day. We never minded. You can't do anything without this polite little boy helping you. We wouldn't take coin for it, and the mother started bringing us eggs and milk, to thank us. When Gullina was little? She would sometimes come in with him. That's really how we all met."

   "I helped raise Eira. I know the feeling. Helping others with their children. It's nice."

   "You know, I'm not a big man for the gods. I mean no disrespect if you are… I'm a merchant by trade. I believe in coin, I believe in work makes coin. I believe in family. It was funny, I had… I don't know what to call it. I guess… you call it an omen?"

   "An omen. Really?"

   "Coincidence, I'm sure. But, a nice one. I was having an ale problem. A big one. You see, no one makes ale in this village. My ale man, was a couple villages away. Anyways, this man ups and dies. He got sick, and didn't make it. Tragic for his family, really. So… I'm now stuck. Right as the busy season is coming on, autumn."

   "Oh, the farmers are all coming into coin… you're suddenly without ale. Now, that's a bad omen."

   "I know. We have two other taverns. We all have our own source. You don't share that… if all my customers start going to the other two taverns? That could be the beginning of the end for me. I'm down to the last of it. In comes this old man. He had one white eye, and the other worked. He's a little hunched over, he's old. He's in this old hooded cloak, that's seen better days. He's a happy old man though. Smiling."

   "What did he do?"

   "Well, that's just it. He didn't really do anything. He wanted to know if he could just sit a while. Take a rest. I don't really mind, if he doesn't cause me any concern. He took to talking with Shan. He was really young then. We kept an eye out, me and the wife, but… he wasn't up to anything. He talked to Shan most of his lunch, then Shan went back to the Garten."

   "Go on…"

   "Well, the old man is telling me how remarkable he thinks the boy is. I would guess Shan related how I ran the boys off for him. Now, this old man, smiling… thanks me, for taking care of the boy. He asks me, if there's anything he can do for me. To repay my kindness. Well, I laughed. I told him about my ale problem, how I'm down to my last horn of ale, if even that much. I'm out."

   "The old man, says… I have a crick in my back. It's why I'm taking a rest from walking. He says, one ale would probably do the trick. Could he perhaps have that one, last ale. It would get him moving, he says. Now… the old man? He didn't have any coin. He asked me, what was one last ale going to do for me? Would it make me, or would it break me. It's nothing… but, it would be everything for him. Get his crick in his back moving and he can walk on."

   "A beggar. Yet… a kind one."

   "Eh. There's no one here. I decided, why not. What's a tiny part of one small copper going to do or not do. I gave him his ale. I had to dribble the last few drops out, to get it. I just got that one last ale out the last cask. The old man drinks his ale, and tells me how he thinks Shan is going to go on to do great things later in his life, he can just tell. He finishes, and he gets up to go. Says his crick is better. Asks me, do I really mind that last ale? I said no, it was fine."

   "Where's the omen."

   "Getting there. So… he's leaving, and he turns around, and he tells me. You know, Odin loves you. Just like that. I didn't know what to say to that sort of thing. He turns to leave, and without turning around, he says plain as day. I meant what I said, Odin truly loves you. You just take care of that boy, and Odin will take care of your ale. He walks off."

   "Strange old codger, eh?"

   "Tell me about it. Now, this old man isn't out the door… long enough to take ten steps, and he sort of has a hobble, he's old and hunched over a bit, you understand. Then? In walks some man I never met before in my life. His story? He's got way too much ale, and he can't get rid of it, could I help him out of his problem. I ran out that door, that old man? Gone. This man's cart is hitched out in front, he's got… must be ten or twelve huge wooden casks of ale. Good stuff too, I might add."

   "Weird…"

   "Tell me about it. Says he went to the other two taverns. One wouldn't deal with him, the other? He said he didn't like the man. He rolls this giant cask in, I have to help him get it down and rolling, we have some… it's some of the best ale ever. Cheap as anything. Oh, I made coin that autumn. He's still my ale man. Couple villages away. Now, for a man like me. A man that does not place any stock in the gods… how strange was that. If that wasn't an omen? I don't know what was. Me and the wife would joke. We take care of the boy? Odin favors our tavern running well."

   "So. That was your only omen."

   "Hmm. Well… me and the wife made a joke not long ago…"

   "What."

   "Well, once Shan was old enough to reckon? He would come in at lunch… reckon everything out, put the pebbles back. He's a reckoner, he does it quick. Well, we got used to that, I tell you. When his Gartening was over? We were happy for him, but in a way? Heartbroken. Our young high reckoner is gone now."

   "What happened?"

   "Well, we're talking about it. The wife says… laughing, mind you. Odin loves you, remember? Tell him to send you another high reckoner. Now, we're laughing. Petty kings have to do without a high reckoner, we'll never get another one. I'm laughing with her. Odin. Send us another reckoner. I said it, we're laughing. Not a couple days later? In walks Lady Eira. She has a plan, would we take Shan's girl on, she's a high reckoner as well, the only other one the school has put out. Now? Instead of a reckoner one hour a day… we have one all day and night, when she's working."

   "Uncanny."

   "I tell you. I don't make jokes about it. Not anymore. I mean, do I really believe in the gods? Not really, I can't lie. But, I will not poke sport at it, I'll tell you. When Eira brought us that bargain? Me and the wife just looked at each other. I tell you… it gives you a damned shiver up your spine."

   The talk moved on to other topics. Two men sat silent, armor and cloaks on. Rooted to their chairs. They would look at each other, and say nothing. No words needed to be said. A third man that had drifted over to hear the conversation, stood behind them. He finally spoke.

   "I can see you two sitting there. Silent. I don't need to say a damn word, do I?"

   "No. He even put his finger on the feeling. That shiver. That's what you always described. It makes you shiver when it happens."

   The other sitting man simply said it.

   "Go on, Arroch. Ask. If it was him or not. Silent. See what bold news you get. I already know."

   Arroch closed his eyes, and spoke silently in his head.

   "Was that really you? Were you really here?"

   Arroch felt a warm hand on his arm, and a voice spoke into his ear, to be quietly heard over the gentle din of the tavern talk.

   "I was here."

   Arroch's eyes popped open. It was Syn. She had been in the back with one of the girls, and had heard none of this.

   "What do you mean, honey?"

   "Do you remember, a long time ago? I once told you, I had a dream a couple times. We were older, and all somewhere, together. Laughing and drinking and eating and having fun… but we were older?"

   "Now that you mention it, yes."

   "This was the place. I walked out the back, looked around, and it was the same bit of dream. Wulfgar was older in my dream, that I definitely remember. How strange is that."

   "Are you troubled by this?"

   "No, honey. I just mentioned it. It's nothing. I'm going back to get some cheese, you want anything?"

   "No, I'm fine. Thanks though."

   Syn walked off.

   Arroch looked at the other two.

   "You heard it. Same as me."

   "Should we be doing something? I don't know… ask the oracle. See if we have to do anything. Go on."

   Arroch closed his eyes again.

   "Do we have to do something? What should we do?"

   "Ha, boys. Do nothing, sit and be entertained… now that? Is command work I can enjoy, eh?"

   It was Var. She had slung an arm around each of Sooth and Theyer sitting when she said it. In a great mood? She kissed first one on the cheek, then the other. Turned around and hugged Arroch.

   "Why are you boys all so damn quiet. Anything wrong?"

   All three looked from one to another, then all smiled.

   "Nope. Everything's great. Var? Is right, as usual. We should all have a horn."

   All four of them filled their small horn with mead out of the little cask that had been set near them. Var asked what to toast to.

   Arroch grinned.

   "To Odin! His will? Be our will…"

   All four repeated it loudly in unison like any other toast, and chugged their horn. Var burped, ran her sleeve across her dribbled chin, and loudly announced that they were lucky, because that was her third horn of ale? But… there was no room in here to entertain everyone, so they were all safe. People laughed, raised their horn, and everyone enjoyed the atmosphere and mood.

   Arroch waited till they had relative privacy again.

   "There's the news. Do nothing. Whatever is going on? It's out of our hands, and we're just here to watch."

   "Correction. We? Are here to be entertained."

   They looked at each other, then over to Shan at the other end of the bar. He raised his horn and smiled, they raised theirs back.

   Sooth quipped.

   "The games. Shan is going to provide the entertainment. I don't need to mention, do I, who he is the son of."

   Theyer made the observation…

   "Ryeamund Thorson? Is really Ryeamund Odinson, we know that much. Shan? Is Shan Thorson."

   Arroch went on, and quite laconic.

   "Boys? I could do this all night. Now, when I was talking to the North Star, all those years ago about all this? One thing he said, was that when a man becomes a vessel? The man has to eat like a horse. Anyone want to wager, if I ask Eira how much that boy eats, what she says?

   "Go on, Arroch. Then? We are to do nothing except be entertained, so… we had better get to it. His will."

   "Eira?!?! Come here, cousin!"

   She came trotting over.

   "What…"

   "Oh, we were just admiring how tall your boy is. We were wondering… how much does he eat? Is he like Ryeamund, a bottomless pit that never gets fat? Or, does he eat like a bird."

   "Oh. You have no idea. It's a good thing we live on a farm, I tell you. Now, mind you… the other two boys? Big men. And… they eat, trust me. Big men, big appetites. But Ryeamund? And now Shan? Oh… those two sit down and have a meal, after the meal is over. I'd say I never saw anything like it? But, my husband has always been like that, so…"

   "Eira… if that boy fills out the slightest bit…"

   "I know. I know he's tall, but… he thinks he's small, because he isn't as thick as his father and his two brothers. The brothers? Say he's heavier than he looks, and… they say he's a lot stronger than he looks as well. When the boys cut wood, you can imagine… three brothers. Teasing about who can carry the biggest cut log."

   "Oh, naturally. Brothers."

   "Gareen swears, he's almost as strong as he is. He can pick anything up he can wrap those arms around. Now, you all know how little Rye fights. With his hands?"

   "He likes his two war-hammers."

   "Okay. Rye taught all the boys to do it, you know. Well… that one? Rye taught him, and he actually has trouble with him."

   "Really?"

   "Yes. It seems his arms are so damn long? He can stand back and throw his hands, when you can't reach him. My husband? Has to come in on him and grab him up."

   "Have you ever had to whack him over the head, with the egg pot? You joked, the other two got it once or twice, before they listened to you."

   "Nope. Never once. He picked up some dry wit off of his father and brothers, that's all. We've all been children, and we've all been around children… there's two times, you have to get a hold of them. When they're very little, and start telling you no… and there's always another one, ten, fifteen winters in… you know, he didn't go through either one? Always listened, always a good kid."

   "He has no faults?"

   "Eh. He's a little too quiet some times. He tends to be a little… moody. Hmm… he had an imaginary friend, when he was very little."

   Arroch shot the other two a look.

   "Really? An invisible pet dragon that talked?"

   "No. An old man in a cloak and hood, he would tell me."

   "What did the old man talk about?"

   "Hmm. I remember it all being good things, really. He was to tell the truth. He was to listen to his parents. He wasn't to steal. Hmm. I remember, when he was real little? He wouldn't steal the sweetbread for a time. Because the old man, told him he must never steal, he should always be honest. I had a time of it, to get him to play the sweetbread game. He finally came and told me the man said it was all right, it was all in fun. He really always was, such a sweet little boy."

   "Where do you think he got all that from?"

   "Oh, I don't know. He's been to the garten since he could walk. It seemed as if he was just repeating the instructors, and saying the old man told him. And, the one instructor was an older man, and they do all wear a cloak. I never thought anything of it. You've been around children… some of them will have an imaginary dog or cat or something. It's a harmless little phase some go through."

   Arroch gestured with his eyes and his chin up and out. It bid Eira to look over her shoulder. It was Gullina.

   "Yes, dear."

   "Might I have a word, Lady Eira."

   "Certainly dear. You? Are all but family. And the way things look? You will be that soon as well."

   "Might our word be a quiet one?"

   "All right. See you later, boys."

   Eira walked to the back, and Gullina with her. No one was in the back kitchen part at the moment.

   "I was listening to the talk. About… imaginary cats and such."

   "Aye. Some children, as I said."

   "What age, would be the oldest. That such a thing… was the harmless phase."

   "I've never seen it last more than a couple winters past five."

   "Is… it cause for alarm? If after that."

   "Gullina. Are you being coy with me?"

   "No."

   "May I ask why we are having this conversation."

   "I would rather you did not."

   "Gullina. What troubles you."

   "Is it cause for alarm, after ten winters?"

   "One would suspect madness, the more past ten winters, you were to see such."

   "I've been around Shan my entire life. I've… seen him do it. When we were very little? I didn't think of it much. As he got older? It passes, for a man talking to himself, when something troubles him."

   "I sometimes talk aloud, alone. When about some puzzle I am on."

   "It does pass for that. Yet, I know better. I once teased him, who he was talking to. He insisted he was talking to someone. Eira? There was no one. He glanced over his shoulder, and said he must have gone."

   "Gullina. How has all this time gone by, and this does not trouble you until just this moment."

   "The keeper. His description of the old man. The way… the ale man outside? Did not see the old man leave, and yet the keeper would swear he was real. Hearing that. It sent a chill up my spine. It reminded me of… what I described. I would be the ale man in that story. The keeper would be Shan. I still would not think anything much, until you mentioned the old man he talked to as a wee one."

   "Gullina? Do me a service, and we might not talk about this in front of my husband."

   "Will he grow angry."

   "No. He… the description of the old man Shan gave as a wee child. The kinds of advice he would give him. It… reminded my husband of his father he lost as a young man. Very much. This caused my husband to talk about the man too much with him, and… it rather prolonged his imaginary friend's presence, were my thoughts."

   "What you call a prolonged presence? Another observer might call permanent."

   "Hmm. What did Shan call his friend?"

   "Old Patch. I asked him about him once, he seemed to think he was another instructor who would come by at times, to check on things. He claims his advice to be priceless. Could the man be real? Associated somehow with the Garten then."

   "Gullina… me and my husband paid for and built the Garten. We arranged for the instructors. We would know of anyone such as that."

   Gullina shrugged.

   "Say nothing. To my husband, and to anyone else. Speak of it to Shan. Speak of it lightly. See what you might gather. Speak of it? Only to me. Are we well on this matter?"

   "Aye. Why do you think there is anything to it? Could he not, simply be some real old man, with an interest?"

   "Were we all back home, perhaps. Down here? I doubt such."

   "Eira… is all madness a bad thing?"

   "What do you mean?"

   "What harm has ever come of it. If his friend isn't real, he only tells him to be a better person. Where's the harm in that. Perhaps, if my Shan has a light touch of madness? More men should share it."

   Eira smiled, though thin.

   "What do you know of our king. Our high king."

   "The North Star? What would I know of such things. He's a great man. I've never heard anyone speak the slightest ill of him. As a reckoner? I only know what I hear. Yet, all of it is good."

   "You have never heard gossip?"

   "Oh, that. Who has not heard, that we are ruled by a mad king. But, that all of his works are true."

   "Okay. Now… Gullina? How many others have you ever heard of. Mad, but it's a good thing."

   "The only ones I can think of? There's that one man in town, that touches anything three times. If he can… people notice he likes to walk down a board on a floor, and tries not to step on the edges. Harmless. And… some old people do go silly, though most don't consider that madness."

   "Would that man not be as good or even better, without it? So, it's not helping him."

   "So, it's harmless but not to his benefit."

   "Aye. With madness? That's the best one can hope for. Our mad king? The only one I have heard of, that his madness is a blessing."

   "Eira… many men, and women in that tavern out there? Speak casually of matters with the high king and his steward. If your family is not… noble, or something like that… how do you all come to be so important?"

   Eira smiled.

   "Gullina. Every great man? Came from some village, somewhere. Did you not see our own Steward walking around, as any other man in the village, growing up as a child?"

   "Hmm. As children? We didn't know he was any different from any of the other fathers. We learned that only as we got older. The Steward? I remember him as a wee child when I was running around the village. He would always smile, and pat me on the head. He would toss me an apple, or hand me a meat pie. He would chase us around, playing."

   "Exactly. And when you traveled, to get your dress. With my sons. Did you not notice anything of it. You traveled with a pair of armored Kingsmen."

   "Oh, that. I got over it quickly enough, but… I was quiet at first. I wasn't well used to being treated differently, going around the village."

   "Yes. Me, and my friends in that tavern? No different. We were born and grew up in the high king's own district. To speak with or know the king's steward? Is to all but know the king himself. Just as the Steward here is, to you? So too is the high king to all of us. When we travel one day, you'll no doubt meet him."

   "Really?"

   Eira smiled warmly.

   "I swear, by then? It will be little different than knowing our own Steward. Now… let's go and see if we can round everyone up, and get them out to the farm. Var might be the only one loudly announcing how she wants her hot bath? The others were just as long on the same journey, and are simply more polite about it."

   It took a time to get everyone assembled and ready to go. Gullina noticed that of the quiet hunters that came with the group, many of them more or less rode around her on the short trip back to the farm. They were more likely to smile or nod than speak, but she could tell they were all quite friendly to her. Eira had to explain that these were RavinLunden YeagerMeisters, raven master hunters.

   "They are your people, Gullina. From where you came from. They're happy to get to meet the south-lands first Lady and Kingmaker."