The Year of the Warrior by Lars Walker

Author:Lars Walker
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fantasy
ISBN: 0671578618
Publisher: Baen Publishing Enterprises
Published: 2000-03-07T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER II

A fortnight later Erling set out south on horseback, by appointment to see his wife's kinsman Sigurd Eriksson south at Opprostad. Outside harvest-time Sigurd rarely left his chosen place at the king's side, and the king lived in a year-round progress from one to another royal farm through the length and breadth (such breadth as Norway has) of the land.

In any case Sigurd had sent word to Erling to meet with him. They'd grown middling friends since the wedding, though the old blood-quarrels still rankled.

But that made Erling all the more eager to show goodwill whenever he honorably could. He'd also found it prudent to pass news and appeals to the king through Sigurd—Sigurd was as careful as he in doing right by his former enemy. He was also the man Olaf trusted best, even more than the bishop.

I came along, not to visit the Opprostad folk, but to see my friend Helge of Klepp, who lived not far north of them. I'd only met him at Erling's wedding, and had I known him earlier I'd perhaps not have judged Jaeder so backward and heathen as I had. I liked Helge much for himself, but I must be truthful—he owned a thing I lusted over and loved to put my hands on.

Erling's sister Sigrid came with me. She'd become my shadow in the past year, keeping by me like a colt with her dam. I wasn't sure what to make of this. Mostly it pleased me but I feared her fear. I hoped I'd not be her crutch for life. She was about seventeen years old then, slender and tall and fair of face like all her family, but she showed no interest in marriage. Sometimes she spoke of taking the veil, but it never came to anything.

With her came Freydis Sotisdatter, who clung to Sigrid as Sigrid clung to me. Fourteen years old now, plump of figure and large of eye, she had uncanny moods, and sometimes could be found staring into space, whispering to unseen confessors.

And because Freydis came, Lemming must come too. He bore the sword Smith's-Bane at his hip, a gift from Erling for high service.

Lemming had only two frets that I could see in those days—keeping watch on Freydis' fancies and putting up with Asa and Arnor, who built their lives around not looking at him.

So in that company we took the road, such as it was, south. It took two days due to the bad going (the trouble between neighbors had strangled commerce) and we put up at a farm along the way. A trip by sea would have been faster, but Jaeder was niggling for harborage. The Opprostad folk themselves, great as they were, had to keep their ships in the Gandalsfjord to the east and cart their goods and folk overland to get to them.

Lemming and I and the girls rose early the second morning and set off by ourselves on foot to Klepp, ahead of the main party.

It's even flatter around Haa and Klepp than around Sola.

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