Northlands Saga 0: Spears in the Ice

Bucking about on the unfamiliar mount, Ulfarr gets a read on Astrid behind him.

She seems unconcerned, weapon not even at hand, as she leads the two other sisters at a much less frenetic pace along the trail behind Ulfarr.

Fastvi makes a good run, but ultimately Ulfarr’s mastery of his steed—a tight grip with his calves along the horse’s barrel, as well as powerful blows against the animal’s flanks—makes it clear to the horse that it better catch up its companion or else.

Fastvi is laughing like a Jol alf—her hair has come loose and blows around her—as Ulfarr comes alongside enough to check the pace with his own mount.

Now the people approaching are within ready view. All are on horseback, all are armed, and all are mud-spattered and exude weariness. From this distance Ulfarr guesses the are members of Olaf’s hall. There are five of them—all men—coming more or less in a line along the well-used track.

The foremost of them calls out.

Ho there! Where are you bound?

It’s unclear to Ulfarr whom, precisely, is being addressed: himself, Fastvi, or the two of them together.

From this distance, to Ulfarr the man’s demeanor seems friendly enough.

Astrid's lack of concern frees Ulf from thinking too hard about the riders ahead, so he thunders forward, riding in close to Fastvi and her mount. He seizes the reigns as they group calls out, then pulls both horses to a rapid stop.

To the red-cheeked girl with the now unbound hair, Ulfarr asks, "Are these riders men you know? Huscarls of your fathers?"

Then, louder, he adds with a wave, "Ho! Just out for a ride to enjoy the weather and the meadows. This young lady's mount got the better of her, went on a run..."

The first tired rider, as he approaches, peers at Ulfarr with suspicion. Ulfarr reciprocally sizes up the warrior. The man seems capable, much more capable than Ulfarr, armed with sword, spear, and ax. But, despite the evident suspicion in the Halfsteading's eyes, he seems sensible and agreeable enough.

Hail! says the man. I know you not!

He glances beyond Fastvi and Ulfarr at Ulfarr's distant companions.

He softens his tone accordingly.

But I recognize the spear-maid Astrid. And my jarl's other daughters.

He reins up beside Ulfarr.

I am Hallbjørn Bolverkson. If you are bound to the meadows with these charges on this day, keep alert. Keep an eye out for an outlaw, Bjørn the Ugly. He's tall, dark haired, and has a scar across his chin. Its shape minds me of a serpent's tail. Rumor is he has fallen in with the witch Sibbe the Unkempt, for what reasons none know, and we have not been able to find either of them, not the spay-wife's abode.

Ulfarr notices, as the man mentions Sibbe the Unkempt, that the man's eyes rise to focus on the approaching form of Runa.

The name strikes Ulfarr like a piece of iron, and it takes the tall man a moment to ride closer to the group and raise his weapon hand splayed in a more formal greeting, showing that it is empty. "Hail, Hallbjorn Bolverkson, I am Ulfarr Vidarsson, recently come to pledge for the Jarl."

Very recently. Just today, in fact! And the man was rapidly discovering there was much he didn't understand about these lands, and the people who inhabited them. If there were villains free in the Jarl's holdings, why in the name of Odin's eight-legged horse would the man ever allow his daughters to roam freely?

Turning to look at Runa, Astrid and Inga, Ulf shifts in his saddle, then turns his mount so he can see both Hallbjorn and his childhood friend. The one so wronged by his half-brother.

"This man, Bjørn. The Ugly. How old is he? From whence does he hail?"

Hallbjørn fixes Ulfarr with an appraising stare.

While he does so, others in Hallbjørn's company slowly ride up--one of them nods to Ulfarr, and the youth thinks he hears this one say, under his breath, Some people get all the luck.

Then Hallbjørn speaks.

How old? About your age, I'd say, though he may have a few years on you. In fact, you kind of take after that villain, except for the scar on his chin. Where's he from? Well, he only just showed in the region. He and his band--we think they number at least four, at least from sightings the farmfolk have reported to us. The bandits so far have done nothing more than sheep-stealing. But one of the shepherds, a thrall who was given to our jarl by Køenig Leif Ragison, says he knows the rogue hight Bjørn. This thrall once belonged to Vidarstead, and he says he was there when Bjørn was outlawed.

As Hallbjørn finishes, another weary man rides by. He nods past Ulfarr and says, Hello, Inga. You look pretty today.

By this time, Astrid and the other Olafdóttirs have ridden up.

Hallbjørn's stare, the muttering of his companions -- Ulfarr is quickly becoming aware that he made a mistake in not letting Astrid tell him more about what passed between the Jarl and this father. And his half-brother. And... perhaps about the Jarl's daughters as well, given the looks Runa gets.

"If he is the man I know from Vidarstead," Ulf returns from his horse, "he and the curs with him will do more than steal sheep. Were you out hunting them?"

As the two men talk, Ulf keeps one eye on Astrid to see how she reacts to hearing the name, and he also adds, "I will speak with this thrall. Could be I know them, and we can together help find where the outlaws are sheltered."

Aye, we were hunting the outlaws. We return to our jarl now to confess our failure. Mayhap you shall have greater luck than we. But your charge, certainly, is to protect the daughters. Have no fear in this part: the brigands are cowards; they will not leave the dark woods.

Hallbjørn again seems to size up Ulfarr’s stature. After some consideration, he says, Aye, after this errand of yours today, seek me in our lord’s hall. We will arrange a visit to these thralls for you to learn what you will.

While Ulfarr and his companion speak, two more of Hallbjørn’s party ride by.

Astrid’s expression is inscrutable. Ulfarr isn’t even certain she heard the speech about Bjørn the Ugly.

Hearing about the outlaws keeping to the woods, Ulfarr puts an eye on Fastvi in that moment, watching to see how she reacts. He would not put it past the girl to try and attract the reavers' attention just to make life difficult for her guardians.

Ulfarr nods at Hallbjørn when the man mentions visiting thralls, then raises a hand in farewell as the group moves on.

"You heard him," he says loud enough to be heard by all the daughters. "We need to stay well clear of the woods and the dangerous men lurking in it."

But, cries Fastvi, it is the woodland meadow we must go to! The flowers that grow there always are the first and finest of the spring!

It’s true, says Inga, quickly—and quite more sensibly and calmly than Fastvi—before Ulfarr can counter her younger sister, the meadow there is sacred to Freya. The flowers always have been gathered just from there for Freya’s feast this night.

When Inga speaks, Runa leans forward over her horse’s neck, fixing Inga with an exaggerated look of concentration. When Inga has finished speaking, Runa leans back in her saddle again and turns her face to the sky. Freya’s flowers, she says softly, slowly, and emphatically, then laughs a little as if she thinks something about those words is funny.

Astrid, for her part, looks at Ulfarr with an expression that may be surprise. She says low, underneath her breath so that only Ulfarr should hear, They’re only outlaws, Ulfarr. After all, this is why we are escorting these maidens.

"Outlaws have no honor, Astrid," Ulf responds, though with four votes to his one, he already knows they will soon be riding in this flowery field. "I've no wish to see one of these girls felled by a coward's arrow or a hurled axe."

And of course there is another reason to risk the woods. If it Bjørn and his miscreants are there...

Ulfarr kicks his horse to a trot. "Let's hasten, then, and find these beautiful flowers of Freya!"

Scene Transition
Freya's Meadow is indeed a magical place. Ulfarr can understand why the flowers must come specifically from here. They are large and bounteous and swaying in the breezes that seem impossibly warm in this area that is sheltered all around by the tall spears of the forest. The sun shines directly into the meadow and--can this be? yes--here even are the first spring butterflies bobbing among the fronds. These creatures won't be found elsewhere for another moon or more.

Still, the meadow is wider and longer than, with brigands about, gives Ulfarr comfort. And, to worsen his anxieties, the daughters promptly go their separate ways. Evidently they find it beneath themselves to gather flowers from just one place in this meadow but instead must range far for the choicest offerings for Freya.

Their behavior does leave Ulfarr and Astrid alone, side by side, to watch the unmounted horses, who now graze idly amongst the blooms. And Ulfarr's one-time childhood friend looks absolutely luminous in the midday sunlight, as if the glade here enchants the sunbeams as well as the flowers. Or perhaps it is just Astrid's natural beauty, unveiled in this place.

The meadow has an effect on Ulfarr. Calming, almost mesmerizing. Since his arrival, he has been on edge for one reason or another. On guard, even, in the Jarl's hall, and before he knew the riders were friendly. Fastvi's reckless bolt on her horse could have ended terribly, and Ulf had been forced to work his mount into quite a lather to catch her. Then the talk of his half-brother...

So now, with the girls happily picking flowers, with butterflies flitting and with the sun streaming and Astrid looking the way she does... Ulf feels a warmth in his chest that he is unused to. He stays mounted, to better intercept any fool of an outlaw who comes flailing, but his attention for now is on his childhood friend.

"So. It's been too long, Astrid. How have you been, these years? You've... you're... a woman now."

Astrid glances sideways at Ulfarr with a smirk and a laugh, but Ulfarr feels no genuine mirth in either.

She says, Oh, trust me, I have been a woman since... Well, since that day. Not only did I become a woman, but I learned that I never again could put my trust in men. It was meant for me to take the spear up for myself. And that's where I have been, Ulfarr, if you must know. I swore myself to the Spear-Maidens of Wotan. Only one winter ago did I dedicate my services to this place, to the jarl here.

And you, Ulfarr? You look well. What have you learned over the years? What promises have you sworn, other than the pledge of your ax to my lord? Do you think you can stay true, despite what lies between your father and your jarl?

Ulfarr turns from Astrid then, looking to the Jarl's girls and their colorful flowers... and to the woods and its deep shadows beyond. Would that there emerged outlaws to strike down, to save him from her gaze.

He sniffs, then says, "You know how I feel about that day. How I felt about you. And my failure."

The young northman looks at her again as a cool spring breeze tousles her hair to speak of this oaths. "I've sworn many, Astrid. You know that land. Oaths flow like spring water. Some heard by my father, my mother. Some sworn to the wind... and some only to myself, and the gods. After you left... I swore to find you. And to protect you."

The man quiets as they look at one another, memories and pain passing between them, but then his horse nickers and he clucks his tongue to calm it. "I see now you are beyond that. You have no need of a fool boy's belated oath." Trying to read the woman's eyes, failing, he adds, "But still I bear it. And the one I swore... that day. You might not have... heard me."

The words are difficult for the man to say. The years-old memory is still raw, still bloody, like an open wound. Ulfharr held helpless, bearing witness to the violation of the girl he loved. To the ruination of the life he wanted with her. The home they would have built together. The children she would have born.

"I swore to kill Bjørn, Astrid. And that oath too... I bear still."

If Ulfarr expected any reaction to Astrid hearing about his oath, it appears he has long to wait.

Astrid peers at the flowers at her feet. One hand idly caresses the shoulder of her horse.

She must feel the weight of Ulfarr's gaze pressing against her flushing cheek.

Suddenly she turns to her companion.

Ulfarr, listen. I want you to know--

She turns to the forest marge.

Did you hear that?

Ulfarr sweeps his gaze across the clearing.

Runa is closest to Ullfarr and Astrid. It seems the youngest daughter is easily distracted by things at her feet--but not by the flowers, apparently, judging by how she doesn't carry any of them in her arms. Instead Runa appears to be in earnest conversation with something in the air between her and the sun.

Fastvi and Inga have ranged farther, but they still are within shouting distance, still easily gained were Ulfarr and Astrid to mount their horses and ride.

Fastvi holds one plucked bloom in one hand. Inga has spread her shawl on the meadow.

She has placed a number of carefully-selected flowers on it. They are arranged by color.

There, in that direction.

Astrid's body tenses, but she doesn't gape and point as Ulfarr knows some others would. Instead, somehow intuitively, by the manner Astrid holds herself, Ulfarr knows to glance at a thick clump of bushes adjoining the meadow.

The branches move subtly. Something alive is in there.