by Njord Kane
"Silence!" yelled the Jarl into the Hall, bringing everyone to a hushed quiet. Looking back at Hakon, he said, "tell me everything that has happened. Tell me why were you defeated?"
"My lord, we left this morning as planned. The thrall took us to the blacksmith's longhouse and showed us the trail where their sheep had ran in the darkness of night. We followed the trail through the woods and up the mountain for a distance. We had also found the remains of two different sheep along the way."
"Remains? What happened to them?"
"My lord, it appeared that animals had found their corpses and feasted upon them. The thrall informed us that the sheep were dead when they first followed the trail in search of them with the blacksmith. However, they were intact at that time. Wildlife had apparently discovered them since that time."
"I understand, continue."
"We continued following the path, led by the thrall, until we came to the location the thrall claimed he escaped the creature he described to us."
"Yes, were there any signs of Bjord or his son? Did you find their bodies?"
"Not at that specific location, my lord. There was a passageway torn through bushes that led to the burial mound that the thrall told us they had found. The bodies of Bjord the blacksmith and his son were there."
"Were you able to tell how they were killed? Were they murdered?"
"My lord, the bodies were mutilated by something that was not a man."
"Not a man? What do you mean?"
"My lord, we were met by the very monster that the thrall had said killed the blacksmith and his son."
Upon hearing the word, 'monster' the men in Hall began talking loudly amongst themselves again. They questioned the very existence of such a thing. A few even mocked the notion and laughed the moment they heard it.
Jarl Erling was growing very annoyed by everyone's inability to remain quiet enough in his Hall to allow him the ability to question Hakon, the Captain of his Housekarls.
"Silence!" yelled Jarl Erling as he stood up, red faced and angered. "I demand that this Hall remain quiet when I am trying to talk to this man and find out what happened or I will clear this Hall by force to quieted it!"
The Jarl's Housekarl guard present in the Hall immediately took to stepping forward at the ready for his command.
The men in the Hall quietened themselves, seeing the Jarl was becoming irritated and his guard ready to physically quieten them for him if need be.
Satisfied, Jarl Erling sat back down and then looked at Hakon and calmly said, "continue."
"Yes my lord, the monster or rather the dead walker. It was a huge beast, bigger than a man, bigger than a bear. It had dead eyes and its flesh was rotting. The smell was horrendous."
"I have never heard of such a thing. Are you sure?" inquired the Jarl.
"My lord Erling," said the elder lawspeaker Alvis. "Your captain's description fits how I've heard of the Draug being described by the elders of my day. It also fits with the young thrall's telling of a cat coming to him in the night trying to kill him. It is said they can shape shift into such things."
The Jarl thought on this for a few minutes before speaking again.
"Were your men able to slay the creature? This 'Draug' or dead walker thing."
"My lord," continued Hakon telling his story. "The beast was too powerful. It was on us like the speed of lightning and as powerful as we've heard in the legends of trolls. We were unable to inflict any damage upon it and were lucky to escape it."
"You weren't able to harm it in any way?" asked Jarl Erling. "There must be a way to slay this abomination."
Rowan looked up at the Jarl as if he wanted to say something, but remained quiet. Jarl Erling noticed his hesitation and spoke directly to him, "speak thrall, you may speak freely."
"My lord, I think the weapons burned it when they hit it." Rowan explained.
The lawspeaker then said, "legend states how most unseen creatures can be harmed only with weapons made of iron. Perhaps the iron weapons burned it. It may be the key to destroying the draug."
"Yes, I have to agree." Hakon pointed out. "One of the bowmen hit the beast with arrows that had sharp iron tips. When the iron embedded in the creature, it appeared to hurt it."
"Yes my lord," Rowan recollected. "I remember when I put my master Bjord's ax into the creature's back, it appeared to have burned the creature and it struggled violently to get it out of its back. That was when I seized the moment the first time I escaped it. When it was struggling with the ax burning in its back."
There was hushed muttering by the men in the hall, all agreeing that the iron had most likely been the only thing to have hurt the creature.
Jarl Erling stood up and addressed the Hall. "Men, our village is plagued by a creature with the blood of many men on its hands. We must resolve to find a way to destroy this thing and rid ourselves of its curse before more from this village die."
Gwenda and her mother Helga arrived at the Hall's door and entered just as the Jarl had made this statement.
Speaking across the Hall, she asked, "My lord, what has been discovered about the fate of my son and husband?"
She knew in her heart that Rowan's story was true. She had witnessed the hellish cat chasing the livestock. But in her heart, she had hoped that they would find her husband and son merely lost or injured and thus return them to her.
"Please, come sit." said the Jarl as he motioned for his henchmen to fetch both the blacksmith's widow and her mother a chair.
Gwenda and Helga made their way to the seats provided by the Jarl's men and quietly sat down. She kept her gaze upon the Jarl, waiting for him to deliver the news she knew he had but did not want to hear.
"Madam," said the Jarl, "Dear widow of the blacksmith, I have dire news. We have confirmed the thrall's story to have been the truth. You husband and son are dead. I am sorry."
Gwenda sank in her chair and began to weep. Helga tried to comfort her. They had already been mentally prepared to hear the bad news, but no amount of preparation can ready anyone to actually hear it being said. She has lost her husband and has also lost her only son. All the men of the household have perished. What was to become of them.
She still had the thrall, but he was unfortunately not trained in the art of blacksmithing. This was their livelihood for generations. This was a disaster to her family.
Jarl Erling tried to offer her comfort by saying, "Rest assured Madam, we will destroy the creature that killed your husband and son."
"Thank you my lord," said Gwenda. "But that won't replace him or our livelihood. Our thrall is now the only male of the household and he is not trained as a blacksmith."
Overhearing her say this, Oleg, the karl that had discovered Rowan when he originally returned, said, "I am truly sorry for the lost of your husband and of your son, but I have made a claim for finding the thrall when he was wandering outside of the village without a master."
She was flabbergasted. She couldn't believe after all that has happened, that this man had the gall to make such a claim against her household and at a time like this.
Angrily she stood up facing the man. "How dare you make a claim of property upon the death of my husband and against my household!"
"I mean no disrespect," claimed Oleg. "With the men of the household gone, the thrall is now without a legal owner and he is not a freed man. Ownership was available to whoever first claims him."
Gwenda defiantly pointed out, "my husband's property belongs to his household which passes to me now by marital right!"
The argument between them began to heat up until Jarl Erling had to silence them and call for the lawspeaker to make a legal decision on the matter.
"Lawspeaker, please recite the law of our people on this matter so we may put this dispute to rest." requested Jarl Erling.
Alvis the lawspeaker stood up and said, "It has been the custom of our people for many generations before I walked this Earth that when the father dies, the father's property fell upo
n to that of the first born son. If the first born was already dead, then it went to the next born son and so forth."
Oleg then pointed out, "The blacksmith Bjord's only son had been killed, leaving no other heirs or sons to claim the property because a wife does not inherit her husband's property.
Bjord's brother, Thorn spoke up and said, "Then the property would pass to the man's family. This would make the thrall and the remaining property owned by Bjord now my property because I was his brother and his only remaining male blood kin."
The lawspeaker corrected them by saying, "This is true. However, when a son passes who has not yet become a man by his own right, then he is a man child and a child's property goes to the mother. So the thrall and the blacksmith's other properties that had passed to his son the moment Bjord died will go to the mother."
"How can that be so, when they both died?" protested Thorn.
"This is because the moment when Bjord died, his son still lived. At that point, all of what was Bjord's became that of Sven's. Then when Sven died, all that was Svens went to his mother, Gwenda." clarified Alvis.
"That is nonsense!" objected Thorn.
"In accordance to the law as has been recited by the lawspeaker," Jarl Erling declared. "All that was Bjord's had became Svens and all that was Sven's became the property of his mother Gwenda. The thrall and all of Bjord's that is now Sven's is now the property of Gwenda. This is the law, there will be no further arguments on it."
Oleg sat down hard upon a bench in disappointment, but accepted the ruling. He had no choice. To go against the law as recited by the lawspeaker and decreed by the Jarl would make him a criminal.
Thorn, hoping to gain a thrall and his brother bjord's properties stormed out of the hall without any further word.
'Woman, take claim of your thrall." said Jarl Erling as he pointed to Rowan, whom had been standing there confused as to what all just took place.
"Thank you, my lord."
Gwenda, assisting her mother, left the Hall with Rowan gratefully following behind them.
Rowan wasn't sure of what all had just taken place. Everything seemed to have gone by so very quickly in extremes. Nevertheless, he was glad to be out of the Jarl's Hall. He was no longer being accused of murder and no longer facing an almost certain horrible death by execution.
Chapter 11 - A Plan
Rowan laid in his bedding, which was essentially nothing more than a sack made from scrap cloth stuffed with straw and an old worn deer hide laid over it. But all things considered, it was more comfortable than sleeping on a bench or on the ground.
He laid there lost in thought as he stared out the open door into the curtain of darkness outside. It was a humid sticky night and they'd left the door open to let the cooler breeze of the night air come in.
It was relaxing to hear the nocturnal creatures at night go about their nightly routines with the smell of the fresh night breeze cleansing the stale air inside the building.
His thoughts raced through the events that had passed over the past few days. Quite a bit had happened. Life changing events that had forever changed how things would be from now on. Not only was the household of which he belonged permanently changed with a now uncertain future, but the line that divided what was real and what was fantasy was also now blurred and obscured.
As Rowan stared outside he noticed a small pair of eyes looking back at him from just outside the door in the darkness.
He was instantly alarmed by it and hastily sat up. Rowan was afraid that perhaps the dead walker had returned in some other form. Like it did when it showed up shape shifted as a cat. It could perhaps be some other creature with ill intent as well. He had no way of really knowing. He only knew that now he trusted nothing.
Rowan reached for his ax while still peering outside at the eyes cloaked in the darkness. The reflection in the eyes did not seem to be those of a critter, although by their size and proximity to the ground, it had to be a small creature.
Armed with his ax, Rowan got out of his bed and gingerly approached the door. He didn't want to wake anyone else up in the house, in case it was just a woodland creature or some other harmless critter looking to nip some food.
As he got closer to it, there was a degree of familiarity about it. Yes, the eyes in the darkness were familiar to him. Indeed the eyes were not those of a hare, lynx, or even a fox.
As soon as he stepped outside the door, he heard it say, "come over here."
It was Tom Tay, that unusual creature that was in the hallow with him.
He was unsure about this Tom character, but he did save him from being discovered by the troll and Tom did lead him in the right direction to get back to his village.
Tom noticed Rowan's hesitation as he stood in the doorway pondering where to go out there or not.
"It's okay, come on out. I don't want to disturb anyone in the house. We need to talk."
At this point, curiosity was what pushed Rowan out the door. He walked outside and could see the outline of Tom hiding in the shadows. Tom looked like a very, very small man. No taller than a house cat or hare. This was very strange and made Rowan extremely nervous. He'd never seen a man so small. What kind a queer folk was Tom, he pondered.
"Why do you hide yourself?" asked Rowan.
"I don't think you're ready to gaze upon me," replied Tom. "The sight of me may frighten you and that is not my intent."
"I don't think I would be frightened," said Rowan bravely. "Especially after the things I've seen recently." he pointed out.
"Ah yes, your problem with the drauger. That is why I have called upon you this very night." said Tom. "and it's not just your problem, but a problem to your whole village."
Rowan thought about this for a moment and nodded in agreement.
'But it's not just you and your village's problem, it's a problem with all the creatures and beings in the forest as well." Tom added.
"What do you mean?" Rowan asked,
"This thing is a horrible creature that causes havoc and death to not only your people but to other things that are nature in the forest. It is an unnatural abomination that needs to be put to rest and I think you are just the person to do it."
"Oh no," said Rowan "I barely escaped with my life on both accounts of dealing with it. Both times I survived my encounters with it were nothing short of pure luck, I might add."
"Yes, but that is only because you went about it all wrong. There is something you don't know about it. That creature, like many unseen beings, has a great weakness to it."
"What do you mean, are you like the dead walker?
"No, not even close. But there is something about it that we do share in common and that is a great weakness to iron."
"Iron? Why iron?" inquired Rowan.
"It's a very long story as to why, but do know that iron burns us. We can't stand it. It has something to with its unnaturalness. It is why I never enter the longhouse of your master. He is a blacksmith and there are bits of iron from his trade everywhere. Even the scent of it is foul to me and my kind. It is foul to me now as I speak to you near it."
"But the dead walker entered this longhouse, when it tried to kill me and then ran off the sheep." Rowan pointed out.
"Yes, that was very unusual. It must have been very determined to enter. At first I thought it might be as immune to iron as mankind is, but then I seen that it was hurt by iron. When you stuck the ax into it. It wasn't the ax blow that hurt it, but the fact that there was iron embedded in its flesh. The ax's iron head burned it as did the arrows that had iron tips on them."
"I did notice that, but I wasn't sure what caused it. The iron seemed to burn it as if it was red hot from the forge."
"Yes and that is how you will be able to defeat it."
"Defeat it? Like I mentioned, I barely escaped with my life ...twice. There is no way I intend to face it again. That beast killed trained warriors, some of the Jarl's best men and they were armed with iron weapons as well."
"You are
right, you won't be able to defeat it directly in combat. It is too strong." Tom said.
Rowan interrupted him by reiterating, "I have no plans on battling or defeating it. My plan is to never go into the cursed forest ever again. I plan to avoid it the best as I can."
"You don't have a choice, Rowan. That creature has its mindset on you and everyone in this village. It won't stop until it kills each and everyone of you. Especially you. It seeks vengeance on you. You have to put an end to it, before it ends you."
"Why, what did I do to it?" Rowan gasped, "I'm just a thrall."
"You are not just a mere thrall, Rowan of Juteland, Son of Ingvald." said Tom.
Rowan had never heard his name in such a title before. He was always, 'Rowan the thrall' or simply, the thrall.
"You have a destiny that you do not even know of yet. You do not know who you are or where you come from. You were not just a discovered orphan that was placed into servitude as a thrall. You were made as a thrall to hide you and your identity until the time had come for you to know who you are." Tom explained.
Rowan laughed at this notion and then said, "Now that I hear the name Ingvald, I do remember that my father's name was Ingvald. But I do not believe that I am anybody of any significance. I have always been just a thrall."
"Do you remember that you are not even from this land, but of another land across the sea instead. A land called Juteland." Tom asked.
"I do know that I am not from here, but I do not know where it was that I had came from."
"You came here by sea, yes?"
Rowan nodded.
"You were transported in a merchant's Knarr by a trader that had found you. But the trader who brought you and sold you to the blacksmith was no ordinary trader. He was in disguise." explained Tom.
"What do you mean?" Questioned Rowan in disbelief.
"He was to bring you to a safe place that was far away from the warring tribes that were in your homeland of Juteland. Those tribes sought to end your bloodline and slay you. He could not hide you himself, because he would have been eventually discovered. So what better way would there have been to hide you than to bring you North, disguised as a thrall."
