Freystein's Tale: A Bed For the Night (Ch. 3)

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    Ralof and I soon arrived at a small village. He hurried over to some large device that appeared to be for sawing logs. My cousin Rolf had told of such things, in southern lands which he had raided. I was soon distracted though by the alfar... chopping wood.

    I could not resist the desire to inspect this creature. I had, of course, never seen an alfar before... earlier that day excepted, and that was at a distance... in fact, I hadn't been certain they really existed. But what else could be before my eyes... tall and slim, narrow face, pointed ears: alfar. Chopping wood.

    This seemed a very mundane thing for a mythical creature to be doing.

    Earlier I had assumed that the alfar must rule this land with the humans as their underlings and slaves. This alfar did not appear to be a mighty lord. Simple clothes, manual labor... nice bow, that much count for something.

    For his part, he spoke to me and I jumped back, afraid he would curse me or enthrall me or exercise some other of the magical powers alfar are supposed to have. Instead, it was something about a Sven and a Camilla... whoever they were, and of course what, exactly, he was telling me about them was a mystery to me. In the end he seemed to be annoyed at my incomprehension.

    I resisted the urge to draw my sword and see if alfar can be killed, and went to find Ralof.

    He was speaking with a woman who bore some resemblance to him... a relative, I assumed... and the man who had been working on the wood-cutting device when we arrived. I couldn't be certain what they were speaking of, but I heard the Jarl Ulfric's name a couple times and thought he must be telling them of our adventures. The woman seemed to appreciate my part in them, and though I couldn't understand her words, she gave me food, two silver rings, and a key that turned out to be to the house she shared with the burly wood-cutting man. I learned her name was Gerdur and he was Hod.

    Hod led Ralof and I to their home and fed us some dinner. It was a nice home, with beds! Back in Vinland, or even in Iceland, no one had proper beds but the Jarls. These people where clearly of some considerable importance and prestige. I felt honored, though my spirits were still quite low.

    After some food, I left to wander around the village, but I found myself mostly observing the alfar-man, sneakily. The incident in the pass aside, we vikingrs really are quite sneaky.

    Later that night, I sat alone in Hod and Gerdur's house, with a bottle that smelled and tasted like mead, while Ralof and our hosts had a rousing discussion.

    No doubt they were catching up in more detail than before. I wished I could join them, but my inability to understand or to be understood made that pointless. So instead I thought for some time about my situation. I felt more alone than I ever had and I didn't know enough about where I was to even know how bad off I was. Men had tried to execute me earlier that day and I did not know why. I did not know who they were. There were alfar and wyrms about...

    At least I had friends and allies in Ralof, Hod, and Gerdur. Or so I hoped. I just couldn't be sure.

    I lay down in a bed - a bed! - and fell asleep before I began to shed unmanly tears into my mead.

    The salt ruins the flavor.

Comments

2 Comments
  • Incomitatus
    Incomitatus   ·  April 2, 2014
    He's certainly egotistical (and I suppose that comes with a dose of shamelessness) and very naive about Tamriel and the way things work there.
  • Borommakot
    Borommakot   ·  April 2, 2014
    I can't tell if he's shameless, or endearingly naive or what, but I'm really liking this character. Can't keep a good vikingr down.