Chapter One

 

It was cold, not as cold as I ever before experienced, but this was just the very beginning. I had enough felt cloth and skins on my back to protect my body from the chill for now but a Black Winter was settling in upon the northern terras. According to legend the sun would soon slip completely under the horizon for at least the next twenty-six full moons so I feared I was going to need a lot more of both. I did not have access to a market to procure them. Even if I was fortunate, found a town large enough to have a market still open and one willing to trade, I did not have nearly the coin required to purchase goods to dress me properly to comfortably survive the frigid darkness of a Black Winter that was coming upon us.

Soldiering had not nearly filled my purse as fully as I hoped. The majority of a soldier’s compensation was expended to feed him enough gruel and coarse dark bread to keep a fighting soldier on his feet and to keep him clothed sufficiently to keep sickness out of the ranks so that he could continue warring on behalf of the king of Sintland.  The warring is done for now, because of the advance of a Black Winter, and Sintland’s army has been disbanded. 

I learned when I was very early in summers that I had not been born pleasing to look upon, especially to a female’s eye. I learned soon after I was also not born fortunate at betting games. I once held these as afflictions, as curses. I now regard them as blessings. The women who sold their favors required far too much compensation to ease desires of a man, especially from one as displeasing as me, and I despised the disappointment I felt in my belly for gambling away my coin. Consequently, I retained in my purse nearly all of what I had earned while I had been engaged in the killing trade for the king of Sintland. The shame lies only in that the coin I have earned and saved while warring cannot be used to assist me in surviving our Black Winter.

To my credit I still had my blade. The commander in charge of arms under the king of Sintland was tasked with disarming all soldiers before releasing them from duty but I refused him my weapon. I know not if it was my offensive features, the full measure of my stature, or obvious abundance of our adversary’s blood on my tunic that swayed his persistence, but he did not press and I kept my blade in my possession. With a blade it was certainly possible for me to kill and take what I needed. Unfortunately, I have had more than my fill of killing and I hold only contempt in my heart for those who take what they have not earned thus banditry is a course of action I would never pursue.

These were the thoughts I entertained as I trudged through the snow circling around a small village where I was most certain I would not be welcome to enter. This attitude would not be solely directed upon me. No stranger, even those with pleasant features and an abundance of coin to spend, would be welcome there. Normally this was a bountiful land but the expense of warring is formidable and the terras and the subjects have been most heavily taxed to finance its cost. These villagers would have stored deep in their cellars only barest necessities, praying it was enough for them and their families to survive the duration of a Black Winter. There was nothing to spare or to share with an outsider. Doing so would only make their survival that much more dire. I understood and I felt no animosity. 

These were the thoughts I had inside my head until I saw the child. It was a tiny thing, pale and blue, poorly dressed in light gray felt cloth, and curled into a fetal position on the snow. My first inclination was to give the body a wide berth. Warring and killing grown men in battle was one thing but the death of a small child was entirely another. I had no desire to see something so young with its life extinguished. Then she breathed. A tiny whiff of breath floated from the child’s nostrils. The child was alive.

I heard a wail, a cry, so loud and mournful that it momentarily shocked me. Then I was shocked once again when I realized the sound had emanated from my own mouth. My hands went to the sides of my head and I heard my breath race in and out of my nose. What manner of people, ma and pa, could allow this most terrible thing to happen to such a fragile spirit? As I calmed slightly I knew and I understood the answer to my question. She had been sent away. She had been sent from her home and out of her village because she was a mouth they were absolutely certain they could not feed through a Black Winter. Those who had given birth to her could not bear to watch as she starved, withered away and died before their eyes. It was a mercy to her to send her away to perish quickly in the cold. It was also a mercy unto them as well, that they would not have to witness it with their own eyes. I understood, but still it filled me with such an anger that I had never before felt. Even in the midst of warring and slaying enemies I had not felt such powerful emotion take possession of me. I took several more deep breaths threw my nose, filled my chest with the icy air so that I might clear my head and find reason. But there was no reason to be found inside my head or my heart. My feet moved without my conscious mind in command of them. One moment I was in one place, the next I was beside her and looking down at her small form in the snow. 

It took no effort at all to lift the girl. She was already emaciated, only a thin bluish skin stretched over small fragile bones. Again without thought, I lifted my skins and felt cloth to hold her body directly against my flesh to more quickly transfer the warmth of my body to hers but then I hesitated. It felt somehow shameful to put this tiny life against the flesh of such a hideous man. So, I pulled down the felt cloth and tucked her precious little body under my skins and cradled her most gently in the curve of my left arm. With my right arm I drew my blade and looked anxiously about should my caring for this child be challenged. Finding no such confrontation I began to relax slightly.

A few moments later I felt a weak heartbeat against my side and soon thereafter I felt dampness on my cheeks. It took a moment for me to realize what the dampness was on my cheeks for it had been so many years since I had cried tears. In my years on this terra I have known much sadness. Such is the unfortunate fate of a child born so unpleasant to behold. My progress into manhood had produced a countenance that became only more repugnant to those who gazed upon it. My providence was that I had been graced with a sound mind and blessed with formidable stature. Whilst I was only a young lad, even grown men rarely were brazen enough to jest at my expense for fear they would be shamed by receiving a beating from just a boy. To be sure, I gave many beatings in my youth but I received a great many more beatings than I gave so I was no stranger to pain. I had pain inflicted harshly upon my body and also equally upon my heart. I surely knew sadness and loneliness and there were countless times in my youth when I was alone I had an abundance of tears upon my cheeks.  However, it has been a very long time since I felt them. I had believed I had cried all the tears a body is given to cry.

I looked hard at the village and even in the midst of my anger there was an understanding. The child had been sent away to die quickly, to be food for the gray wolves. There simply was not enough food in their cellars to feed them all. A decision had been made and I did not envy the heavy hearts of those who had given birth to her that had been forced to make such a terrible decision.  Another decision had also been made. This decision had been made the very moment lifted her limp body up off the snow on the terra. I walked away from the village into the forest with this abandoned little one curled into the bend of my arm. I knew in my heart to keep this child alive was now my mission, my destiny. I was resolved that neither man nor beast would harm this little one lest they first get past my blade and then through me. I carried her ever deeper into the pine forest in the direction of the mountains and away from her village and the people there. 

I have spent a great many of my years alone in the forest so I was accustomed to the ways of the forest. Unlike the ways of men and villages the ways of the forest are predictable. The forest might be predictable but it was also harsh. The gray wolves weighed heaviest on my mind. They were already hungry, and their hunger was making them bolder. As our Black Winter took this world tight in its grasp and then continued to drag on the ache in their stomachs would make the gray wolves reckless. The bears had already taken to their dens and for now they presented no immediate threat. They, like all creatures who slept through a normal winter, would eventually awaken with pains in their bellies long before our Black Winter was over but for now they would sleep. I suspected that the hare and the rodents had already dug their deep winter burrows but they would still have to venture out to feed on whatever they could scavenge. The gray wolves would have to share them with us or, more likely, we would fight each other for them. I hoped as our Black Winter wore on starvation would weaken the wolves as their desperation increased. 

In the back of my mind I began to entertain the notion that when I had found a suitable place for us to weather the Black Winter I should hunt gray wolf as well as hare and rodent. The meat of a gray wolf is most gamy and tough but there is plenty more of it per kill. The skin of a single wolf would cover the shoulders, neck, and head of the little one. Needles for sewing and maybe even skinning blades would be prudent use for a gray wolf’s bones. 

I walked with the little one under my skins and in the curve of my arm for a very long time. My mind had been preoccupied by how I was to care for her and I had not kept track of my steps, so I did not have an accurate measure of how far we had traveled. When I felt the little one begin to stir, I knew she would soon find her way back from her deep sleep and awaken so it was time for me to look for a shelter for us to temporarily take refuge. There was nothing around here in this flat land but forest so I would have to construct something. At that moment a fine majestic old pine tree presented itself in front of me. It was tall and very broad on the bottom with large drooping limbs touching the ground. I used my blade to chop limbs from nearby pines to weave into those of the old pine’s lower branches to create a cover. It was difficult work using only one arm and the chopping of limbs grossly dulled the edges of my blade.

I weaved and tucked the heavy pine branches into the lowest limbs of the big pine until there was reasonable cover. I then threw heavy snow from the ground atop the lower limbs and woven branches to close the cover so as to insulate us from the cold. I spread the tender ends of pine branches inside the cubby to make a more comfortable place for the little one to rest upon. Moving with increasing haste, I collected as much dead wood of various sizes as I could find and cracked them with feet and knees into usable pieces. I then dug a small fire pit into the floor of our cubby with my blade. Before striking my flint, I poked a small vent hole with my blade through the branches and snow directly above the pit so smoke of the burning wood would not make our breathing too difficult. When the fire was burning steadily, I took a skin from one of my shoulders and laid it on the soft needles. I placed her tiny body on this skin and then covered her with the skin from the other shoulder. I then concentrated on tending the fire and making our shelter warm enough for comfort. I made steady progress with the fire and kept the smoke to an acceptable level. 

The temperature inside the cubby gradually increased above freezing and as the chill on my flesh beneath my thin felt cloth covering began to be tolerable I began to have a new worry. I had no experience at all with caring and the rearing of children and their needs, especially girls. In fact, a man with a countenance such as mine had no skills with any female of any age. My worst fears were realized when the little one stirred and opened her big brown eyes. A mere moment after her eyes opened, she immediately withdrew into the farthest reaches of our cubby.

“Var inte rädd (Do not be afraid)”, I said as tenderly as I could force my gruff voice to be.

She still had her tiny body wedged into the farthest reaches of our tiny cubby but managed to pull the skin to cover her. 

“Jag kommer inte att skada dig (I will not harm you)”, I promised.

No response.

I decided to try to reason with the child. “Det är kallt i här, men det är mycket kallt ute. Försök inte att lämna (It is cold in here, but it is very cold outside. Do not try to leave).”

Still the little one did not respond or look at me.

“Menar ni? (Do you understand)? I asked.

She turned, peaked out from under the skin, and for the briefest of moments made eye contact. “Ja (Yes),” she replied and cast her eyes down.

I sighed. At least it was a sign I was making progress. “Den Svarta Wintern kommer (A Black Winter is coming),” I said. “Vet ni vad ha medel (Do you know what that means)?”

She turned her head again and faced me. “Är du en jättelik (Are you a giant)?” She asked. Her voice was small and weak, and it stirred something exceedingly sorrowful inside me.

“Nej…ah, jag är bara en människa. Ett stort, men bara en människa. (No…ah, I am just a man. A large one, but just a man).”

She just nodded, but she was looking at me now and making eye contact.

“Kan ni tala ett ord av befolkningen i söder (Can you speak the words of the people from the south)?” I asked.

“Yes,” she replied. “My mother was born in the south. I speak the words of both.”

“Good. I am able to speak the words of the north but not so well. We shall speak with the words of the south. Do you agree?”

The little one gave a slight nod of her head.

“I found you in the snow outside a village some distance from here,” I explained. “I know that you were sent away to be food for the gray wolves because those who gave birth to you would not be able to feed you through a Black Winter. When I saw you on the snow I decided gray wolves were not worthy of such a feast. I took upon myself the responsibility of caring for you and bringing you alive through our Black Winter.” 

The little one held my eyes for just a moment and then curled back into her skin.

“I am not pleasant to look upon and I have engaged in warring for the king of Sintland but I earnestly declare I am wholesome of heart and I have never thieved or ever practiced banditry. I make you an oath, Little One, that I will never cause you any harm and I will be your champion until you choose otherwise.”

The girl peeked out and looked at me with curious eyes but said nothing. She was certainly handsome. A delicate round face framed by pitch-black hair.

“Our Black Winter is now upon us. It will most certainly be a brutal hardship and I cannot make you a certain promise we will survive it but I pledge you my service and my blade to you for as long as you desire. I promise to soon find you a more permanent and safe place to rest your head, to employ all my abilities to feed you, to keep you from the cold and to stand between you and anything that might intend you harm be it man or beast.”

Upon hearing those words, she turned and with tears building in her big dark eyes and found mine. “Why should I believe you? Why would you promise such things to a girl to whom you hold no allegiance?”

I thought hard for several heartbeats about her question and how I might properly answer it. “Because you are in desperate need,” I began, “and despite my gross countenance I have a kind heart and gentle spirit.”

The little one tilted her head as she considered my reply. “There is no logic in those words.”

The quickness of her mind made me smile. “No, there is no logic in those words. The words come from my heart,” I gently tapped my chest with my fist, “and, it is true, there is no logic to be found in a heart. A heart does not think, it only feels. It responds not to logic, nor to reason and it sometimes has the most profound power to force a man, even a large and displeasing one, to do good works.” I waited  two or three heartbeats. “Do we have an accord?”

After a moment of thought she asked. “What are my options?”

“I could bring you back to those who gave you birth.” I shrugged my shoulders. “You are a most handsome child and perhaps they have had a change of heart. Surely my stature and countenance would without doubt assist in convincing them to take you back into their house. Or, since you are very keen, you could choose to survive our Black Winter on your own.”

The little one made a pouting face. “They chose my fat older brother over me and they most certainly will not take me back. At first they made offers, attempting to trade me. There were some men with coin who offered to buy me but since coin was of no use because there was nothing left to buy my mother refused their offer. Instead, I was sent out into the cold and darkness to die alone.” Tears again began to build in her eyes and then streamed down her cheeks.

I turned my head and closed my eyes so that I did not have to look upon her tears and the sadness of her face. I wanted to tell her those who had given her birth had in fact done her a service by not selling her for coin. Men who would purchase young girls for coin had only blackness in their hearts and tremendous evil residing in their souls. In my time on this terra I had on occasion come upon men such as these and I had secretly wished I had the authority and the opportunity to punish them most brutally. I did not feel these dark ways of the world were something I should discuss with such an innocent little one although I had a suspicion she already had such notions of them inside her head.

I opened my eyes to see her tears streaming down her face. “So, Little One, given the options before you do we have an accord?” I asked again. “Is it acceptable to you that I be your champion?”

She raised her head and stuck out her chin. “By what name is my champion known?”

“I was not given a name when I was born. Those who gave me birth were shamed by me, so I was not given a name. Later, when I was a little older, and dreaming of living alone in the forest I took the name Vidar. You may call me Vidar.”

I was presented with a brief smile. “Vidar?”

I nodded.

“It is a fine name,” she said. “It means warrior of the forest and is a fitting name for such a large man who proclaims that he is to be my champion.” She wiped away her tears with her hands and appeared to become more at ease and again smiled.

I returned the smile.

“What is expected of me, Vidar?” She asked.

“I expect only that you will obey me and do as I instruct you.” I replied.

She again raised her head and thrust out her jaw. “And, my champion, what exactly does that mean? Am I expected to perform services?”

“No!” I roared. 

The little one withdrew once again into the deep reaches of our cubby and buried her little body and face beneath the skins.

“No,” I said softer, once I had reigned in my anger. “We are in a most severe time. I require only that you behave in accordance with what it will take for us to survive it. I will not hear any more talk of services. Those who partake of the services from a child have blackness upon them and, in spite of the repulsiveness of my countenance, I assure you there is no blackness upon me or in my heart. I will need to sleep and when I sleep you must be my eyes and my ears and keep our fire burning. When I leave your presence, as I most certainly will have to do to gather wood and to hunt, I expect you to obey the instructions I give while I am away. When I tell you to be silent so I can hear the forest speaking I expect that you will be quiet. When I tell you to rest you must rest. When I tell you to eat you must eat. This is the extent of what is expected of you. Do we have an accord?”

A few moments later from under the skins she replied, “I am not entirely at ease with this arrangement.”

A drew a deep breath through my nose. The little one was trying my patience and I began to realize my inexperience with child rearing would continue to be a problem. “Do we have an accord?” I repeated

She peeked out from underneath the skins. “I have no other option.”

“You most certainly do, but they are all more unpleasant ones. I have pledged to keep the cold from biting your flesh, to keep the pain of hunger out of your belly by feeding you and to stand with my blade between you and anyone or anything that might intend you harm. I expect nothing, nothing from you except that you heed my words. Do we have an accord?”

The little one wiggled out from the dark reaches of the cubby. “You will have to earn my trust,” she said.

I could not help but laugh. “I certainly expect that I will indeed.”

“You find that amusing?” She asked.

“No,” I replied. “What I find amusing is that I expected I would expend most of my energies to fulfill my pledge to your survival. I did not expect my energies would be expended in gaining your trust but, if that is what is required, I concede to the challenge. Do we have an accord?”

A small hand from underneath the skins was extended in my direction. “Yes, we have an accord.”

I took the hand in my mind and gave it a single shake. 

A moment later she said, “I need to go outside.”

“No,” I replied. “It is too cold and too dangerous for you to just go wondering about.”

The little one bristled in defiance. “It is necessary.” 

I sighed. “Why is it so necessary that you leave this shelter and venture about in the cold?”

“I have to…to make my water,” she said.

This was another matter of child rearing for which I had not been prepared. “I must come with you.”

“No!”

“I will turn my back and I will not peek.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No!”

“Why not?”

The little one lowered her head. “You will be able to hear me.”

“So?”

“I will be shamed.”

I sighed. “It is a shame to…to make water?”

“Perhaps not, but it is an indignity if you hear me while I do it.”

“I cannot permit you to go outside this shelter by yourself. It is not safe and I refuse to gamble with your life because you think it might compromise your dignity if I should hear you make water.”

“Then I will hold my water until I burst!”

“Then you will just have to burst.”

“You swore an oath to be my champion and protect me. Why did you not tell me that you would only protect my body but not my dignity?”

In frustration I began to slap the palms of my hands on my forehead and take deep breaths through my nose.

“I might concede if you promise to turn your back and also to cover your ears,” she offered.

I read defiance in the expression upon her face. “Will you swear to be vigilant to sounds around us since I will be unable to do so?” I asked.

The little one nodded. “I promise I will be most attentive to the sounds around us.”

“Very well, but you must first permit me to go outside so that I might scout around the area of our shelter to insure there is no danger. When I have determined there is no danger, I will advise you it is safe and then, and only then, will you leave this cubby,” I instructed. 

The little one nodded her consent, but then added, "I must insist you do your scouting with haste."

I must confess I was not eager to go outside without the skins I had gifted to the little one. The level of warmth inside our small shelter was tolerable on the flesh of my arms and back but outside the cold would promptly begin to put a chill into me. It would not take long before I would feel the cold all the way to my bones and it would take considerable time back inside the cubby to get it back out. But the little one had expressed her need was urgent and I could not deny her, nor could I cause her discomfort. Without further contemplation I slipped under the boughs and out into the icy air. I held my blade at the ready and quickly looked about in the half-light for signs of man or beast. There were no signs of either or their fresh tracks and called for the little one to come out. She quickly appeared and began to march off into the words.

“Hold, Little One,” I said. “That is far enough.”

“Here?” She asked, her eyes open wider than I had ever seen them.

I nodded, “Here.” I sheathed my blade, turned my back, and covered my ears. 

A few moments later I was struck with a ball of snow in the middle of my back. I immediately removed my hands from my ears, drew my sword and was about to turn when the little one ordered me to stand as I was.

"What is the matter?" I asked

"With what shall I clean myself? She asked.

I was not sure I heard her correctly. "What?"

"I have made my water and now I need to clean myself," she said. "What do I use?"

I had no idea. "What did you use when you lived in the village?"

"I had a square of felt cloth lightly scented with lavender oil."

I closed my eyes and began to silently recite the names of all the old Gods of the north I could remember so that I would not lose my patience. It was becoming all too obvious that the employ of mothering was an enterprise best left to mothers.

"Well?" she insisted.

"We are in the forest at the beginning of a Black Winter. We must make use of what we have," I replied. "We are blessed with a profusion of snow, so use snow."

"But the snow is soiled."

"Then move a step forward or backward to where the snow is not soiled."

"It will be extremely cold," she said and then sighed.

"Hurry, Little One. You are exposed."

I heard another very audible sigh. "Is it not my bottom that is hanging out? I assure you Vidar I am very much aware of my exposure!”

"Little One."

"Fine!"

A few moments later I heard a gasp and, even though my back was to her, I made a vigorous attempt not to smile. A couple of heartbeats later she ran past me and dove under the branches into our cubby.

"I need to gather more wood for our fire," I said. "I will be with you in a moment.”

Silence.

I felt the icy air seeping into my flesh but set myself to the task of collecting and chopping more wood for our fire. I circled our shelter in ever increasing circle and chose only the driest of wood that would create less smoke. I was also looking for tracks that might have been left by man or any manner of beast and for rocks. I saw no tracks except that of hare of which there were plenty. I found only one rock of any substance and I had to pry it from the terra with my blade. I quickly carried it back to our shelter and went back for the firewood. I made three trips with my stronger right arm piled high with wood. By the time I had the provisions inside the cubby the flesh on my arms and shoulders were beginning to trouble me.

With haste I tossed several pieces of wood into the fire pit and leaned close so my body could absorb the heat. As the heat inside the cubby gradually increased I knew I would have to venture outside again to toss more snow upon the branches to keep the heat inside and insulate us from the cold. The little one observed these things while wrapped in the skins from her bed of tender pines but said nothing. When I felt the stinging needles of feeling return to my skin I ducked outside and began the work of pitching snow atop the limbs of our shelter. I worked quickly, heaving great mounds with my bare hands and did so until I began to lose the awareness of coldness in my fingers before slipping back inside. Once inside I used my blade to remake the chimney for the fire pit then laid the stone and several additional smaller pieces of wood into the fire. I took a deep breath and tucked my frozen hands into the pits of my arms and leaned close to flames so my body would feel its heat.

“Ni aare fanigna stora dare (You are a silly great fool).” The little one said softly.

“Och, utan din ofornftigne ni skulle ha varit livsmedel for vargar (And, without your fool you would be food for the wolves),” I responded.

“You said you did not speak the words of the north.” She was smirking.

“I said I did not speak them well. You need to listen better.”

“I listen.”

“There is more to listening than just hearing words.”

“You do know stone does not burn,” she said.

There was a flash of anger that lasted for several excited heartbeats fueled by the shivering of my body. “You are most correct. A stone will not burn but a stone will soak up the heat from the flames and the red coals like a fine linen will soak up water and then it will share its heat to assist us in maintaining a comfortable warmth within this cubby.”

“You also know you should not go outside with skins to cover your flesh. Why do you not have skins to cover your body?” She asked.

I looked at her with scorn but her delightful face immediately melted my agitation. I know not why but I could not rein in my words. “When you were sent out in the cold Little One what skins did you have on your back?”

She met my eyes but for only one or two heartbeats and then cast her eyes down and she did not answer. We both knew why she did not answer but I am certain I felt the worst for having made her realize the truth of it. Quite some time later, after the warmth of the fire had taken away the bite of the cold from my flesh and the burning of my hands had subsided, I looked again upon the little one. She appeared to be sleeping but I could tell that she was pretending. She was pretending because she was ashamed of the spiteful nature of her words and my heart ached for having caused her such disgrace.

“It is of slight concern, Little One,” I said. “I bear no malice and I donated my skins of my own free will and I would do so again.”

She did not stir but I saw her closed eyes begin to tear.

I chose my words carefully. “When I took you from the snow covered terra I did so with the will of a free man. I made an oath to you that I would care for you but also know I had made the same oath unto myself before I ever spoke those words to you. I told you I required nothing from you only that you heed my instructions and I stand by those words. I will trap and hunt game and provide skins to cover my body so I might fulfill my oaths.”

The little one opened her eyes and found mine. “It is too much even for a warrior of the forest to undertake.”

“I would not have made such declarations had I not had the confidence I could carry them through,” I replied.

The little one looked at me for a moment before she spoke. “You told me that if I so wished it,” she said as she sat up and palmed her tears from her cheeks, “you would bring me back to my ma and my pa and insist they keep me. You said that you would use your influence upon them to see that they would not send me away again. Did you mean those words as well?”

“Those were my words,” I replied. “I stand by all my words.” 

I wanted to tell the little one in the most ardent way. Even with threats from someone so large and grotesque as me to those who gave her birth they still would not have enough food to feed her. They probably did not have enough to feed themselves nor the fat older brother of which she had spoken. Even if I assured them that I would return to their village after our Black Winter was over and to slay them if she had not survived it would not make any difference. Those who gave her birth could not produce food from out of the air. If I returned at the end of the Black Winter and she was gone how could I slay them? What would that accomplish if she were already dead?

The little one thought for a moment then said, “It is my choice that you bring me back. I would most appreciate that you would stress to those who gave me birth that they must keep me all the way through the Black Winter.”

I put my hands over my face and in my thoughts I had only reasons why this endeavor was just recklessness. I knew this action would lead to nowhere but her death and I had sworn unto myself that I would do all that was within my ability to keep this little one from the embrace of the arms of death. I had also pledged my vow that I would do as she requested of me. The best I could do would be to attempt to make her see reason without denying her request.

“Do you know why those who gave you birth chose the fat older brother over you?” I asked, removing my hands from my face and turned to look into her eyes.

She shook her head and cast her eyes down.

“Do you know what the bear of the forest does during the bounty of the summer and fall?” I asked.

“The bear eats and grows fat so that he can sleep away the winter,” she replied.

I smiled. “Those are most true words. So, I will ask you again the question. Why did those who gave you birth choose your fat older brother over you?”

I saw a shadow of anger cross her delightful face. “They chose him because my brother is fat like a bear.”

“Yes, that is indeed the truth of it.” I paused planning my words carefully. “Before there were signs that our Black Winter was coming did those who gave you birth treat you any less than that of your fat brother?”

She did not respond.

“Little One?” I urged.

“No,” she snapped.

“I know that I am a brute of the greatest measure. I have never entertained the slightest expectation that I might meet a woman who found me even remotely pleasing enough that together we might give birth to a child. Still, like any man I have dreams and desires to which my heart clings. One of my fondest desires is to be the father of a child. The blessing of two children, a boy and a girl, is indeed a bounty beyond measure.” I paused and took a deep breath so that I might keep my emotions from causing me to shed tears. I wanted the little one to see I was strong and that her champion was not given to tears.

“It is commonly known that a boy in his youth clings to his mother and a girl clings to her father.”

The little one met my gaze. Her jaw was thrust out and her face was displaying clear signs of anger.

“If a father is the full measure of a man he provides well for his family and treats them justly. If a father is the full measure of a man his wife will witness this and he then indeed commands his family. A man in command of his family, without realizing he is doing so, will when his children are still young, favor his daughter over his son because of his daughter’s affection.”

“How do you know these things, if you yourself have never had a family?” she challenged, her anger now showing red in her cheeks.

I forced myself to smile. “I know these things because it is the way of life. I have not spent all my days alone in the forest. I have spent a great many months in towns and once I spent nearly an entire summer in a large city in the south by the sea. Most of the time the people in these places chose not to acknowledge my presence or to even see me at all but this did not prevent me from seeing and observing them. I might not have been graced with a pleasing face but, Little One, my mind is unblemished.”

Her jaw was still pushed out in anger. “What point are you trying to make, Vidar?” she asked.

“I have already made my point. You might be a very young girl, Little One, but you possess a very keen mind. I believe it is your choice not to realize the point I make,” I whispered.

The little one’s angry face melted, and she curled her small body back into the skins. “So,” she said, “you will not take me back to my village as I have requested?”

“I did not speak those words.” I sighed. “I will do as you request of me. I am your servant, I made an oath to you and I will do as you request.”

She peeked out from under the skins. “Very well, but I would like to think upon it. Is that acceptable to my servant?”

I nodded and smiled. 

The little one ducked back beneath the skins and I began to rub the needles of cold out of my fingers. When I had taken the bite of the cold from my body I moved away from the fire and put my back against the trunk of the tree. I took two strips of dried meat from my satchel. I passed one of them to the little one. With hesitation she took the meat from my hand and watched as I tore a mouthful with my teeth from the strip in my other hand. 

“I made a trade with the master of stores when Sintland’s army was disbanded,” I explained as I chewed. I chose to not explain to her that I had caught him drying the meat from a fallen warhorse and selling it for coin as dried beef to disbanded soldiers to eat on their way back to their homes. I had threatened to expose his deception and he gladly traded my silence for several pounds of his dried war horse meat.

The little one smelled it and her nose wrinkled with disgust.

“Your body requires sustenance. You must eat,” I told her.

She sniffed the food in her hand again and shook her head. “I cannot eat this,” she said.

“Your belly is making noises that are reaching my ears all the way over here,” I said. “I have heard stories about our last Black Winter. It is said that some were so desperate for sustenance they ate a pottage from the droppings of pigeons to keep themselves alive.”

The little one made a face. She closed her eyes and bit off a small piece of the dried meat. A moment later she gagged but she did not spit it from her mouth. She ate the entire piece of dried meat without opening her eyes and made the most amusing expressions as she did so. I got the unmistakable impression much of it was a performance for my benefit. 

“Having eaten nearly a pound of this meat over the last few weeks I know from experience that once you get past the first one or two bites the taste is not so unpleasant,” I told her. I more than suspected the little one would never grace me with the benefit of such an admission. It did not matter. What mattered was that she had taken nourishment into her body and I was both satisfied and pleased.

After she had put food into her belly the little one snuggled down into the skins and fell into a sound sleep. I added more wood to the fire then took advantage of the time to rest as well. It was not my intention to do so but I slept. I do not know exactly how long we rested but from the amount our fire had burnt down I estimated it to be between a half or three quarters of a turn of a sandglass.  It was much needed rest and I felt much revived although a little chilled by the falling temperature inside our cubby. I made haste to stoke the coals and added a generous amount of wood. Satisfied with the fire I glanced at the little one. She was sitting with her legs crossed at her ankles.

I quickly turned my eyes back to the fire. “It is not proper for a young girl to sit in that manner,” I said. “A young lady must always be modest and keep her knees pressed together while she is in the presence of man.”

I heard the little one move about and when I glanced back at her she brought her knees up and together, her arms wrapped around her shins, and her chin resting upon her knees. 

“Better?” she inquired.

I smiled. “Much better.”

“You are a strange man, Vidar,” she said with a smile upon face.

“This is something I have been told often but to what specific manner are you referring?”

She giggled. “Well, you are a brute…I mean…” she paused, and her face became somber. We both knew it was because she believed she had offended me.

I continued to smile and nodded. “I am certainly a brute,” I agreed.

The little one looked into my eyes. “What I meant was, you appear to be such a thing, but you do not behave in such a manner. It is most strange and I find it perplexing.”

“Rarely is one what they appear to be, but I have found that what one appears is indeed a part of who they are,” I said.

Her brow wrinkled and she said, “I do not understand.”

I cupped my fingers of my hand around my beard, an attempt to buy a moment to find the right words. “Well, when you look at me you see a brute for that is my appearance but you cannot see what is in my heart or in my mind. I cannot deny that I have been treated poorly for having such a horrible countenance or that such treatment by others has not had an effect on my mind and my heart. In truth, it is that very treatment which has molded me into who I am.”

The little one thought for a moment. “Then why are you not mean and terrible?”

I laughed. “I assure you I am capable of being both mean and terrible.”

“Well,” she replied, “I have not seen it yet.”

“Little One, I am saying that I am who I am because of the way I have been treated. I am also saying that I am neither a reflection of it nor am I a slave to it. Besides, it takes a great deal more vigor to be mean and terrible than it does to be at peace with the world around you.”

At that she gave a great sigh.

“What is it?” I asked.

“When I slept, I dreamed of my bed and my Ma covering me with heavy felt blankets and then when I awoke I still had in my mouth the taste of that dreadful meat,” she said.

“And?”

“Thus far you have been a fine champion, but have I decided I would rather be hungry and warm in my bed than to sleep under the limbs of trees and eat dreadful meat that I am sure has spoiled.”

“Is that your choice?” I asked.

“You have been kind to me, and I do not wish to offend you.”

“Is that your choice?” I asked again.

She shrugged her tiny shoulders.

I could not help but moan. “I pledged my oath to you, Little One. I am indeed your servant. Your desire to return to those who gave you birth does not offend me. I will only be offended if I return to your village after our Black Winter has passed and you are in the afterlife. The very thought of you not growing into a beautiful woman offends me more than anything I have so far experienced in this life.” 

“If I swear to eat even a pottage of pigeon droppings to ensure I survive this Black Winter will it ease your concern for me?” she asked.

“Nothing will ease my concern until I see with my own eyes you have indeed survived,” I told her.

I did not feel comfortable with this course of action but I did not press. I knew in my heart I would be returning her to her certain death but I had made the girl a promise and I felt that I was honor bound to fulfill it. She agreed that we would rest further before I would bring her back to her village. We conversed about how I had carried her to this place and with particularly obvious misgivings she conceded it would have to be the manner I would return her. The little one attempted to conceal her excitement of returning to her home to those who gave birth to her and to her comfortable bed. It was a poor attempt to preserve my feelings but I sincerely appreciated the gesture. I made no attempt to mask my disappointment and displeasure.

We each ate another strip of my dried meat. We went outside to relieve our bowels and to make our water and I did not raise an objection to washing her newly gifted cleaning felt cloth in the snow even though the stench of it made me retch. I was not at all pleased that I had to wash it several times before the little one was satisfied but I did not complain. I used a different measure of felt cloth to hold small orbs of snow that melted inside the cubby and we drank water from the dripping felt cloth until we sated our thrust. 

When we had made all our preparations and we slipped out of our cubby I did so with a most heavy heart. The little one handed me my skins and I slipped them onto my shoulders and I reached out with my left arm for her to take her place in the curve of my arm and she rushed under the skins to get out of the cold. An instant later she wiggled back out panting.

“What is the matter?” I asked

The little one hugged herself against the cold and looked me straight in the eye. “When was the last time you bathed?” she asked.

“What?”

“When was the last time you washed yourself?”

“I…I do not remember the day,” I muttered.

“Vidar, you must wash yourself! Your odor is so offensive to my nose I am unable to breathe under your skins,” she gasped.

I could not help myself from doing so and I inquired, “How am I supposed to bathe myself?”

The little one placed her hands upon her hips and thrust her chin up. “We are in the forest at the beginning of our Black Winter. We must make use of what we have. We are blessed with a profusion of snow, so use snow!”

“Are you determined to see me both mean and terrible?”

“My champion has no difficulty when I have to wash my…my delicate parts with snow but yet he is unwilling to wash his own body,” she responded and then ducked back into our cubby.

I stood there huffing and puffing as my anger peaked, subsided, and then peaked again. It infuriated beyond measure me that her words were true and, though spoken with grievance, were without insult. It infuriated me further that they had been my very words and that she had so little difficulty turning them back upon me. It infuriated me even further that her demands were within reason. I understood she had been raised with a distinct concept of cleanliness of the body while I had received no such instruction at all. It infuriated me still even more that if I was of an inclination to take it upon myself to instruct her in the ways of being a lady and how she should hold her knees then I needed to have full knowledge of the more basic ways of human sanitation. Finally, it infuriated me to no end that I was about to clean my body as though I did only when I was to attend a funeral because and it was the sad truth that I believed that was exactly what I was doing and I did not like it one little bit.

I stomped about outside the shelter in search of dried wood I would need inside the cubby to warm myself after I had taken my bath all the while huffing great breaths of cold air in and out through my nose. On my third widening circling I came upon a bounty of wood that cracked easily under the weight of my foot. I carried three great armfuls back to the shelter and pushed it under the boughs inside the cubby.

With the determination of simpleton slipped off my skins and slid them into the cubby. With a feverish haste I pulled my felt cloth covering over my head and set about to swirl it in the snow to wash it and then used it to wash my upper body, paying particular attention to the pit of my left arm. I then washed the felt cloth again in the snow. When I was done bathing and washing I had no feeling of cold in the fingers of my hands and I had slowly begun to lose the sensation of cold over my entire upper body. When I re-entered our cubby, I continued to breathe through my nose because I was afraid if I unclenched my jaw the chill in my body would respond by making my teeth chatter with such a vigor as to shatter them. Once inside I saw that the little one had aggressively fed the fire and had neatly stacked the wood at the outer edges of the shelter. My skins were sitting in front of her. She assisted me to the fire and covered my shoulders and arms with the skins. Without direction she took my felt cloth and spread it on her arms near the fire so that it might dry more quickly.

“Don’t you feel better?” She asked.

I looked at her and the expression on my face must have answered her question.

The little one smiled for a couple of excited heartbeats. “When you have warmed, I promise you will feel better. A clean and wholesome body is second only to a clean and wholesome heart,” she said meekly with her eyes cast down.

For an instant I would have liked to have my hands wrapped tightly around the throat of the person who had educated her in this fashion but the thought was driven with emotion and was quickly replaced with reason.

“Are you angry with me, Vidar?”

“No.”

“But you are angry,” she said.

I did not respond.

“Why are you angry?”

I looked her straight in the eye. “I might be a little vexed because I have been bullied into taking a bath in the snow in the freezing cold by a tiny girl who has only seen ten summers.” I told her.

“Twelve summers,” she corrected. “I have seen twelve summers.”

“Well, then that makes all the difference. I confess then I feel so much better.”

She ruffled my felt cloth and presented a damper portion of it to the heat fire. “You were correct,” she snapped. “You are certainly quite capable of being both mean and terrible.” 

I made no response. The feeling in my flesh was coming back with a vengeance and was taking command of my full attention. The discomfort was immense but it meant that the flesh had not perished. I would recover and I would not be forced to cut dead skin from my body. In the midst of my tempered relief a cold drop of melting snow from the cover on the branches dropped onto my shoulder and trickled down my back. I gasped and then gasped again when the little one knelt and wiped it from me with her warm small hand.

“Thank you, Little One,” I said.

She smiled. “Are you getting warm?”

I nodded. “I am, except now my flesh is objecting to me having exposed it to the cold and is attempting to convince my mind that it is on fire.”

A shadow of remorse fell upon the little one’s face and I immediately felt enormous guilt for having spoken the words. I reached for her cheek and brushed it gently with the back of my fingers. “It is of no concern, Little One. A young girl must have a champion who is wholesome and clean of body, heart and mind so that she might be proud of him.”

The little one smiled and softly said, “Thus far, you have indeed been a most fine champion.”

Her kind words lit a fire inside me and warmed me beyond that which the heat of the fire in front of me could never equal. It made me forget the discomfort of my body. My joy evaporated when I remembered that shortly I was to bring her back to her village and to where I was certain she would perish. She reached for more wood to feed the fire, but I told her it was not necessary and that when our fire had burnt down, we would leave.

 

Chapter Two

 

We did not speak as I dressed or when we went outside the shelter to embark on our journey. I suspected she was still inclined to refrain from a display of her excitement to spare my feelings. I knew if I spoke I would have tears on my face and I did not wish to cause her to feel remorse nor did I want her to see my tears and think of me as weak.

The return to her village was entirely without incident except that on several occasions I found it necessary to wipe tears from my cheeks. I found it so thoroughly incredible that this half frozen little thing I had found on the snow had touched my heart in such a profound manner. Oh, how my heart ached and the pain grew with each footstep I took. As we neared the village I began to think it had suffered all the pain it could possibly endure and soon it would just simply cease to beat.

When we were about five hundred arm-lengths from the village I smelled smoke and stopped. The little one started to ask if we had arrived but I quickly silenced her. I expected to smell smoke as we approached the village but certainly not at this distance. I suspected something was amiss, drew my blade, and looked about with diligence and with my ears alert to any foreign sound. There was nothing alarming except for the smell offending my nose. The smell grew heavier the nearer we came to the village. I stood for a moment, blade at the ready, not more than twenty arm-lengths from the very spot where I had lifted the little one from the snow unsure of what might be before us. I stepped out into the clearing to a vision of utmost horror. Her village had been ravaged and had been completely burnt to the terra.

“Vidar, what is wrong?” She asked. “I can smell smoke.”

I thought for a moment, knowing not what I could or should say, then replied, “I most sincerely regret that I cannot deliver you back to those who gave birth to you for them to deposit you in your bed and cover you with the heavy felt blankets.”

With that the little one wiggled her body from the curve of my arm and stood to take full view of the butchery that was in front of us. A heartbeat later she was in a full run and I stayed close upon her heels. This delicate little girl began to wail such cries and heave great sobs that I was certain that she was going faint from not taking a proper breath. As I was about to reach down and take her in my arms, she turned to me. Her face was wet with many tears but her teeth were clenched with a fierceness I did know someone so young could process.

“I am pleased they are dead. They chose my fat brother and sent me away to die in the cold. I am pleased they are dead,” she wailed.

I drew a deep breath and knelt down in front of her. “Little One you must never speak words such as these. Words cannot be taken back once they have passed your lips and found their way into another’s ears.”

She looked at me defiantly. “These words were very loud inside my head.”

“Inside your head words are simply thoughts. You might not be able to control your thoughts when you are so filled with fervor but you can mediate them with your heart and a little time. Eventually you will find reason, a balance, and then you can speak your words. When you give voice to thoughts before you find reason you will very often say things you later realize you might not have truly meant. Once having said words you cannot take them back. You might admit your remorse to those who heard them, explain to them that you were boiling inside with emotion and they may very well forgive you for having said the words. Still, those who heard them will pass a judgment upon you. They will remember. It is important, Little One, that you always be in firm control of your tongue.”

Tears continued to stream from her eyes and I knew her precious little heart was breaking. “But…but I am so sad. I am so sad and I am so angry,” she cried.

“I am angry as well,” I told her.

“Then why do you not show it?”

I sighed. “Because a display of my anger will not change any of it and, though I most certainly do not by any measure condone it, I do understand what has happened here and why it has happened.”

“What are you saying?”

“Look here,” I said, pointing to tracks in the snow. “Do you know what made those marks?”

“Horses,” she replied, sobbing.

“Not just horses,” I corrected. “These were made by warhorses. See how large the size of the mark they have left. It is only a lord of a territory that has command of warhorses and their riders. This village was ravaged for its stores. I know not for certain, but I believe the lord of this territory seized the stores to insure he and his house will survive our Black Winter. This lord has made much the same choice as those who gave you birth made when they sent you out into the cold.”

“It was not necessary to kill them!” she exclaimed.

I sighed. “Though it might not appear so, it was indeed a mercy,” I explained. “They were dispatched quickly and were not left to starve and to die slowly and painfully.

The little one looked at me, her dark eyes ablaze with hatred. “There was no mercy shown here.”

I placed my hand upon her shoulder. “It may not seem so at first glance, but I assure you there was some compassion shown here. When you look around you see much blood upon the snow and the terra but there are no corpses. All their bodies were collected and put back into their homes before the homes were set ablaze. Those who did this terrible thing to these people most surely did them an unforgivable injustice by thieving and then murdering them. There is no question about that but they did take care to properly send them into the afterlife by committing their bodies to fire as required by the old Gods of the north. What was done here was not done without some morsel of remorse.”

“And, that is supposed to make all the pain I have in my heart to just vanish into the air?” She was crying in earnest now. Her tears were the size of spring raindrops and her tiny chest was heaving with great sobs.

I gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “No, it will not. You will always feel a wound in your heart but the knowledge that they were sent properly into the afterlife should give you some measure of comfort. It means that many years from now you will see and embrace your family again when you enter the afterlife. It is not much, only hope. Sometimes hope is all there is but it is enough to give us the strength to continue on.”

“What good is hope to me, Vidar?”

I pulled her close and wrapped my skins around her. She tensed and at first, struggled, but then relented and nearly clasped in my arms. “Hope is a promise, Little One. Hope is a reason to go on because there is a promise of something prized, a reward, at a later time. Hope can carry you through struggles and pains. Hope is a very fine thing indeed.”

I held her close for a long time, until she stopped shivering and her sobbing had subsided. “It is time to take your place in the curve of my arm, Little One,” I said softly. “I must take a walk through the village and I think it best you do not witness this thing with your eyes.”

“Why? Why must you go there?” She asked.

I swallowed and wondered if I should keep the truth from her but decided now, since the seeds of trust in me were beginning to sprout, it was not the time to tell her half-truths. “I want to make sure there is no one left who is injured and has wounds in need of tending.”

The little one pushed free of my grasp and looked deep into my eyes. “If you find such a person what then? Will you dispatch them quickly to end their suffering?”

I shook my head. “No, I will tend to their wounds as best as I am able. If the wounds can be healed then they will live. If I cannot heal the wounds then you and I will sit with them so they will not leave this terra alone.”

She nodded and looked at me peculiarly. “I think maybe you are not the great warrior of the forest you professed yourself to be.” She wrapped her frail arms around herself for warmth.

I smiled. “I assure you when I was engaged in warring all those who faced me thought much differently.”

She sighed and said, “You should also look about for things we might be able to use.”

I nodded.

“We need bowls and cups and eating knives,” she said, trying to form a brave face while tears poured from her eyes.

“We could use more skins and felt cloth,” I added.

The little one then fixed a stare upon me. I could see there was something important on her mind. “It’s not thieving if we find and take these things, right?” She asked.

“It is not thieving,” I assured her. “Come.” I lifted my skins and she took her place in the curve of my arm.

My walk through the village was disheartening. I found no one alive nor did I find any bodies. Those who came through this village were extremely thorough in their bloody work. During my walk back through the village I looked for anything that may be of use to the little one and me. All I found was a small bowl of hammered copper, a small earthen cup, something I believed to be a ruined animal trap, a few small pieces of scotched felt cloth, and the head of an ax. The head of the ax was still warm from the flames and I passed it under the skins to the little one and instructed her to hold it against her body to warm her. The rest of things I put in my satchel.

On the way back to our shelter we did not speak and the little one did not stir. We stopped only once and that was for us to make our water. She was most delighted when I gave her another small piece of the felt cloth to clean herself and thanked me profusely. She thanked me again when I washed it in the snow and hung it on my belt to dry.

Upon our arrival I was exceptionally pleased to see our shelter had not been disturbed and required no maintenance other than a few handfuls of fresh snow tossed upon the limbs. I gave the little one the skins from my shoulders then made haste lighting the fire to warm the cubby. Once the fire was burning steady, I gave the little one a strip of dried meat and presented her with our newly acquired possessions. She was delighted with the bowl and the cup, but I could tell she was disappointed with how little we had managed to salvage. Had I the energy I would have made an attempt to lift the little one’s spirits but I was far too weary. My eyes burned from a lack of sleep and my whole body ached from exhaustion. I would be of no use to her until I had slept.

I told the little one that I was in desperate need of rest and gave her instructions for when I was asleep. She was to stay inside the shelter, tend the fire, to stay awake and to be alert to any sound from outside. I did not feel it was necessary to instruct her to wake me if anything alarmed her. The little one assured me she would heed my words. Sleep found me as soon as my head touched the terra.

When I woke it was with alarm. I glanced at the little one and she was fast asleep curled within her skins. I moved as quietly as possible within our shelter and gently shook her. She awakened with a start and fear in her eyes.

I held a finger to my lips. “Be silent, Little One,” I whispered.

“What is it?” she asked.

“There are men nearby. Please silence your tongue and be still,” I whispered. “I have to go outside and find them before they find our shelter.”

“How did they find us?”

I took a deep breath. “They have not found us but they will, soon,” I said in hushed words. “I must make sure they do not. Please be as quiet as a field mouse. Understood?”

The little one nodded.

I grasped my blade and slipped outside. The cold attacked my flesh like the points of a thousand skinning knives but I shrugged the discomfort from my mind and backed away from the shelter. The temperature had dropped appreciably, and small snowflakes were swirling in the light breeze. At twenty short paces I circled around to the north and then quickly shifted to the east. Their voices became louder and I stopped my progress when I began to hear their words and see their breaths. I guessed them to be ten or perhaps fifteen arm length’s distant. There were three of them. Two were together, directly in front of me  and I sensed a third on the move trying to make his way behind me.

“You there,” one called, and stepped forward. “Advance and be recognized,” he commanded.

I held my blade at the ready and without drawing attention to doing so paid particular attention to the one attempting to take up a position behind me. I stood my ground and did not voice a response so that the sound of my words would not distract my attention from the one on the move. I heard the two in front of me draw their blades and a few heartbeats later they advanced toward me. A scrunch in the snow behind me alerted me their companion was moving toward me as well.

“Identify yourself,” the younger of the two ordered.

“I am a free man recently discharged from the King’s army on my way back to my home,” I replied.

“Where is your home?” the younger of them asked.

I could see they were well dressed in many layers of fine skins and they looked well fed. I decided I needed to divine the intentions of these men and do so with haste, before the effect of cold on my body began to degrade my ability to wield my blade. “A small village a day’s walk or so north and east of here,” I said.

The two in front of me made quick glances at each other and the younger gave the other a slight nod of his head then lunged with his blade but I was ready. I deflected his blade with mine and swung for his throat. The resistance I felt in the hilt of my blade confirmed I had struck my opponent though I did not waste as much time as it takes for a heart to beat a single time to see if my strike was successful. I spun, dropped to one knee, and thrust my blade upward into the belly of the man behind me. He was closer than I had seen him in my mind, standing legs apart and blade held with both hands above his head ready to strike. My blade entered his belly and went all the way through him. I took to my feet and as I did so I withdrew my blade from his body on an upward angle cutting him severely to increase the lethalness of his wound.

I stood and spun again to face the last of my opponents but, having seen what had so quickly become of his companions, he began to flee. I reached for my knife with the intent to let it fly at the fleeing man hoping I might merely wound him so that might persuade him to talk but this action proved unnecessary. In his fear and haste he tripped over his own feet and fell. I was upon him in an instant and was disappointed when I turned him over to see he had fallen upon his blade. The tip of the blade had entered him just under the curve of his jaw and he would never speak nor take another breath. I looked to first who had engaged me, to make sure was down and witnessed that the wielding my blade had almost completely severed his head from his body and he too would cause us no further concern.

I stood there in the cold heaving great amounts of air through my nose attempting to calm the warrior’s edge and find composure. I was most distressed that these men had happened to come upon this place where the little one and I had found refuge and even more disturbed that a mention of her village had prompted them into such swift violence. These were well-dressed and well-supplied men and they had been searching this land. My suspicion was that they were scouts in the employ of the lord of this territory seeking easy targets for pillage and I wondered by what providence it was that brought them to the little one and me. My musings were interrupted by the sight of the little duckling out of view behind a pine tree.

“Little One,” I called.

She showed her face, hesitated and then finally came forward.

“Why are you out in the open?” I asked as she drew close. “Did I not instruct you to stay inside the safety of our cubby?”

She shrugged her small shoulders.

“Did I also not instruct you before I rested that you were to remain awake and alert?”

Again, she shrugged her small shoulders.

The calm I forced upon myself was gone. “We made an accord. You were expected to obey my words. You have chosen to do otherwise and have placed yourself in danger,” I said as calmly as I was able to force myself.

The little one took a step back but thrust her jaw out in defiance. “How was I to know how many blades you were facing? You are indeed a man of considerable size Vidar, and you claimed to have been formidable in battle but I had only your words as proof. I did not know what things might happen to me if you were struck down and I was found. I did not feel I could stay inside our shelter and let them come and take me. I may be young and I may not have any stature but I assure you I can run with exceptional speed and for an exceptional distance when I am threatened.”

Her words thwarted my anger because there was some logic to them. I had to agree she had surely, given her circumstances, acted somewhat prudently. “Did you witness me engage these men?” I asked.

The little one nodded.

“Are you now satisfied I can handle myself and that I am able to wield a blade?”

She nodded. “I am indeed. You are most certainly a champion and...and, having observed you fighting these men, I concede I may have been reckless in leaving our shelter.”

“What of your instructions to remain awake and be vigilant?”

“I was remiss and I swear an oath to you that it shall not happen again,” she replied.

“I insist you must immediately get back to the comfort of our shelter,” I told her.

“I recognize these men.”

“How do you know them?” I asked.

She walked past me to the younger one whose head barely hung to his body and spat on his face. She then kicked the body. “This one,” she said without looking at me, “is the one offered to buy me for coin.” I could tell by the expression on her face she had kicked more with emotion than reason and may have injured her toes.

“I am glad I avenged your honor and your dignity, but I must insist you go back to the cubby while I collect their skins and check their satchels,” I told her.

The little one found my eyes. “I will go back to the shelter only if you accompany me. You need to get the chill out of your flesh,” she countered.

I nodded and scooped her up in my arms and carried her back to the shelter.

Inside the shelter it took only moments to realize that I had been exposed to the cold longer than had been prudent. I fed the fire plenty of wood to more quickly increase the temperature and then enlarged the chimney hole to keep the smoke from hindering our breathing and from making our eyes water. As the temperature rose and the warmth of the fire seeped into my flesh I began to feel as though my skin was on fire. I gently rubbed the skin of my shoulders and arms attempting to keep my discomfort to a minimum.

“You fought extremely well,” the little one said.

“There were only three of them,” I said. “I have faced many more than just three men. If there were as many as fingers on your hands, then they may have taken me.”

“What if these men had been professional soldiers and vigorously trained with a blade?” she asked. “What then?”

“It would have made little difference.”

“Would you have faced these men if I had not been in your care?” she inquired.

I thought for a moment and replied truthfully, “No, I would have not faced them.”

“Why not?”

“There would have been no need. I take no pleasure in taking a man’s life and in a forest such as this and in this darkness I could have easily evaded them. Although, I will confess in my youth I probably would have taunted them to encourage them to fight.”

“Why would you do such a thing?”

“Because I was angry,” I replied.

“Are you still angry?”

“I am not.”

“How so?” she asked.

“It is not important.”

The little thought for a moment before stating, “I think the state of mind of my champion is important to me. I would very much like to know what made him angry and what it was that soothed his anger.”

I looked into her eyes. “You wonder why a young man with this countenance might be angry?” I asked.

The little one shrugged. “I confess I am more perplexed as to what quieted his anger,” she replied.

I heaved a great sigh. I had not ever spoken of these things to another and I was uncomfortable doing so, even to this precious little thing I swore to protect. I decided, given our circumstances, she had a right to hear it.

“I cannot tell you exactly how many summers I had lived when I stopped being angry, but it was either my sixteenth or seventeenth. I had spent at least six or seven winters surviving alone in the forest. During that time in the forest I paid particular attention to the actions of the animals. I watched them closely and I realized animals were brutal. Animals viciously killed and took what they needed without remorse. Still, never once did I observe them take more than they needed. Their need was to survive and that was the extent of their need and their brutality.

“I observed the people in the same manner when I ventured back to the towns. I realized that they too had needs just as the animals of the forest but their needs were different. Their need was not driven just by their need to survive. Men craved the most beautiful women and held an insatiable desire to hold the most coin. The women sought after men with the most coin who could provide them with the most comfortable homes. The children required being the most liked. Unlike the animals the needs of people were ravenous. Whatever the bounty of their fortune might be it was never enough. Nothing was ever enough. When I followed the eyes of a man wed to a beautiful woman I observed he lusted the flesh of an even more desirable woman. Well dressed and cared for women sought the attentions of men with more coin than their husbands and their children abused other children who were not so well liked as they. When I made this realization I felt an appalling sadness in my heart and I stopped being angry.”

“How so?” the little one inquired.

“Because, Little One, I pitied them,” I explained. “I, who had nothing and born of such a terrible countenance, had more contentment in my heart than any of those people would ever realize. I saw the absurdity of their desires and knew they would never recognize this insatiable desire as madness.”

The little one sat up straight with her knees together as I had requested, placed her elbows upon her knees, and chin in the cup of her hands. “So why then did you enlist into warring?” she asked.

I wrapped my arms around my body and leaned closer to the fire. “I did not enlist. I was a free man passing through a town without a family and I was drafted into the service of warring. I was drafted, but being a free man of formidable stature, I demanded and was granted payment in coin for my enlistment. Most of the men drafted into service did not have such good fortune. They agreed to engage in warring for food, covering, and a guarantee their families left at home would remain unmolested.”

“I was impressed with your abilities wielding a blade,” she said.

“Yes, but as I said, there were only three of them and did I not tell you that I was capable of protecting you?”

The little one smiled but did not answer.

“Well?” I pressed.

“Indeed, that was what you had declared.”

“Are you now satisfied that my blade and I are capable of protecting you?”

Her smile widened. “I am not certain. What if there had been more of them?” She wiggled her fingers in front of me. “What if there had been as many as there are fingers on my hands?”

I pretended to think this over. “Thumbs too?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

She made a serious face. “Of course,” she replied.

I nodded somberly. “Then it might well have proved to be a fair contest.”

“You appear to be quite certain of your abilities,” she said.

“I am most certain of my abilities.”

“How can you be so certain?” she asked.

“While I was engaged in warring on behalf of the king of Sintland it was essential I fight exceedingly well just to survive. On the line of battle and facing an abundance of men with blades I often noticed there were plenty of my comrades with blades behind me. Rarely were there any of them standing beside me. So, in battle I faced a great many men on my own. It is a testament to my ability with a blade that I am still alive nor even maimed.”

“Well, what do we do now?” she asked.

I thought for a moment and I replied. “When I have warmed, I must go outside and strip these men of their skins and their satchels. These three have been well fed, they are well clothed, and there is a bounty out there for us. After I have collected from them all of the things we might use, we have to leave this place with all possible haste.”

“Why should we leave this shelter?” she asked.

“We must leave because it is my firm belief these men were scouts. It is also my belief they were under the command of the lord of this territory and they have been scouting this land for villages vulnerable to attack and ripe for pillage. Their absence will soon be missed and it will not be long before men on warhorses will come searching for them. The men on warhorses must not find us. We must be long gone from this place.” I did not tell the little one that I suspected it was these very three who had caused the destruction of her village and the deaths of those who gave birth to her, her fat older brother and all the rest of those she had known.

“How are we to travel?” she inquired.

“With the skins of these three you will be well covered and protected from the cold so you will not have to lay in the curve of my arm.”

“I am small and my legs are short,” she said. “I am afraid that I will not be able to keep up with you, especially in deep snow.”

I thought for a moment. “Then I will construct a sled and tow you and the bounty I will strip from the three outside behind me.”

The little one remained quiet and, when I looked, I observed distress upon her face. “What is wrong?” I asked.

She did not respond. Instead, she covered her face with her hands.

“Little One?” I persisted.

She slowly moved her hands aside and met my eyes. “I would feel more secure in the curve of your arm,” she said most timidly.

I could not help but smile. “As long as it does not require that I take another bath in the snow I find that proposal acceptable.” The little one returned the smile and her smile warmed my heart immensely.

When I had warmed my body and was ready to slip outside in the cold the little one, without comment, passed me my skins. I smiled, thanked her and then placed them upon my body and entered the cold to attend to the unpleasant task of stripping the three dead men of their belongings. I did it with haste because I was unaccustomed to doing such a dreadful thing. I have only killed to preserve my own life and I had never stripped a single item from the body of a fallen adversary. Relieving the dead of their possessions is a practice I find most disturbing and had it not been for the little one and that our need was so great I would not have found the fortitude within me to complete the task. 

Later, inside the cubby with our bounty, I witnessed a light had been lit in the little one’s eyes. The skins these men wore were smaller than mine but far superior and the skins of the youngest one them were even lined with the skin of a lamb. There were more skins then two of us could ever carry on our bodies no matter how far the temperature dropped. Their satchels were large and stuffed full. The satchels held cabbages and root vegetables such as potato, turnips and a long orange colored one the little one identified as carrot. They held tied large pouches of fine and coarse grains and even small loaves of hard breads without mold upon them. There was dried beef seasoned with spices as well as salted and smoked pork. We had more food before us than we could possibly eat in a great many days. It was more food than I have ever had in my possession any time during my entire time on this terra. There were eating knives, bowls for eating, cups for drinking and even a bowl large enough, so the little one claimed, for bathing. There was even an extremely long length of rope from a material I had not seen before. It was light of weight, pliable, soft to the touch, and incredibly strong even though it was no bigger on the round than that of the tip of my smallest finger.

The little one had such an air of excitement upon her that I could almost forget our bounty required that I had to take the lives of three men to obtain it. My sorrow was matched only by her delight but I did not let her witness my regret. Unfortunately, as she was going through the last of the satchels her pleasure abruptly ceased when she looked upon her hand. It held a cream-colored ribbon. Her fingers closed upon the ribbon and her eyes immediately began to fill with tears.

“What is it, Little One?” I asked.

She did not answer but instead breathed in great sobs and held the ribbon squeezed tightly in the grip of her small hand. I moved next to her, pulled her close and she did not resist. She put her face to my side and cried most sorrowfully for a very long time. After she had cried herself out, I lifted her into my arms and cradled her as though the little one was a newborn babe.

“This belonged to my Ma,” she sobbed and held the silk ribbon up for me to see. “It was a present to her from her Ma.”

“It is very pretty,” I said. “Now it belongs to you. That is the way of precious things. They are passed on from one generation to the next.”

“But she did not pass it to me! Her life was taken from her in the same manner as the ribbon was taken from her.”

I did not know what words I could speak that would ease her suffering.

She heaved a great breath and sobbed. “You were right, Vidar.”

“How was I right, Little One?” I asked.

“You said that once words leave my mouth and enter into ears that they could not be taken back. Well, you were right. My words left my mouth and they entered my own ears and now I find that I am passing a judgment upon myself for having said them. It means little and does not comfort me at all that I spoke those words when I was in a state of distress.”

I wiped away her tears with my fingers and inside my head I chastised myself most severely for not knowing what I might do to ease her pain. I began to feel like the brute I indeed was when she turned and snuggled into me. I wrapped her tightly in skins and moved to put my back against the trunk of the tree and held her close.

I took a deep breath and began to reflect on the many wonders that had so recently affected my existence. I did not know how many days had passed because the sun had since ceased to rise and set but I estimated it to be sixteen or perhaps seventeen days. I had been released from the king’s army and set about to find a place where I might spend the coin I had earned warring to purchase stores that would carry me through our Black Winter. In doing so I came upon this little one on the snow who had been sent out from her home and her village to die because she was a mouth they could not feed. I had taken her into my charge and then I had recklessly allowed my heart to embrace her. I have pledged to her my oath to be her champion and she has in turn made extreme demands of me. Her demands are to such an extent that I have bathed my body in the snow. I have carried her away from, back to and then again away from her ravaged village. I have taken the lives of three men to protect her and I then stripped the men I killed of their processions to provide for her needs. Now I was holding her in my arms like a newborn babe to ease her grief. I was in awe. I began to wonder how many more surprises were awaiting me. I also entertained fears that I might not have the constitution required to see it all through to the end I desired.

CHAPTER THREE

 

The little one slept in my arms for a long time. I do not know how long because I had no reference for the keeping of time other than our fire. It was long enough for the fire to burn low and for my legs to start to cramp. Even in the midst of my discomfort I did not dare move for fear of disturbing her rest. When the little one did stir, I sat her next to me, wrapped her back up in skins and fed more wood to our fire. After I fed the fire I pulled the fine ribbon from her hand and spun her around on her bottom. I gently pulled back her hair and tied it with the ribbon that had belonged to the woman who had given birth to her. A few moments later she reached back her tiny hands and touched the ribbon.

“I do not wish to wear this,” she said, then untied it and pulled it from her hair. She turned around to face me and said, “I would like to keep this safe and clean so that perhaps I might wear it on the day I am wed.”

I smiled and nodded. “I think that is indeed a very good intention. When I have time, I will sew you a purse to wear around your neck in which to store your treasure.”

This seemed to please her and lightened her mood somewhat. I then told her that it was time for us to move on and she shifted aside so that I might set about my work. As I looked about the bounty in front of me I was at a loss as to how I should go about packing it so that I might be able to carry it all and the little one as well. I decided that I would fill the satchels with things of their kind. In one I would carry all the vegetables, the grains, and the breads. The second I would use for the meats. The third would hold eating knives, cups, and bowls. I selected a couple of the skins to add to those I wore and then placed the rest about to envision how I might sew a crude sack to carry the remainder of the skins. In the midst of my planning I realized in spite of my stature I was not capable of carrying such a load and sighed in frustration.

“What is the matter?” the little one asked.

I did not respond because I was ashamed to admit my limitation to the little one. I had professed to her that I was her champion and I did not know how she might respond if I told her I doubted my ability to carry such a load.

“Vidar?”

I turned to face her and found her eyes.

“What is the matter?” she repeated her question.

“I am ashamed to admit that I cannot carry all this bounty,” I gasped.

The little one looked at me with a most perplexed expression. “I believe you said that you would make a sled you could tow behind you,” she said. “I only requested that you carry me in the curve of your arm so that I might feel safe. I made no such request of you to carry anything but me,” she insisted.

That was indeed what she had asked and I felt embarrassment burning my cheeks but I nodded and smiled.

“Where are we to go when we leave this cubby?” she asked.

“I know of a wonderful place,” I replied. “It is but six or perhaps seven day quick walk south and west of here. There is a river that only flows with zeal in the spring and early summer. On this river there is a place that is wide and where its bank is of a type of rock that is flat and loosely layered. It will be easy to quarry into this rock using blades and the back end of the ax as a hammer. I will dig us a cave into the bank and then use the mined stones to construct a wall at the opening so that we might be protected from the cold and also the beasts of the wild.”

The little one’s smile had faded, and her face had taken on an expression of concern. “It will take us six or seven days to reach this nirvana?”

I shrugged. “Perhaps eight days depending on the weather and how great our fortune is.”

The little one, for a moment, resembled an owl, her eyes were so open and wide. “Eight days?”

I shrugged. “Eight at most,” I assured her.

“How are we to happen upon shelters such as this along our journey?” She asked

I smiled. “We did not happen upon this shelter, Little One,” I explained. “You were still in a deep sleep from the cold and in the curve of my arm so you do not know but I constructed this cubby. Look here,” I pointed above us. “I cut limbs from other pines and then weaved them into the lower limbs of this magnificent tree and then piled snow on top of them to keep the warmth inside.”

The little one looked up and followed the limbs and I saw by the expression on her face that she understood.

“So we will walk and then we will rest in other shelters such as these?”

I shrugged. “Perhaps, but I suspect we will not be so fortunate. The farther south and west we travel the flat land will give way to hills and then the hills will grow into mountains. The pine trees will give way to spruce trees and the trees will be thinner, smaller and much less impressive. It is doubtful when we reach the mountains that will come upon another tree such as this.”

“Then where will we rest?”

“That will depend,” I said.

“On what will this depend?” she asked.

“It will depend on many things but mainly what is presented to us when we are ready to rest. If there have been no tracks of the gray wolves and we have not heard them sing their songs then we will make a shelter using these skins,” I explained.

“And, what if there are tracks of the gray wolves and we hear them sing?” she inquired. “What are we to do then?”

“Then we will move up into the trees out of the reach of the gray wolves.”

“We are to sleep in trees like birds?” she gasped.

I laughed. “It is not so terrible. We will sleep in hammocks made from these skins,” I gestured in front of us. “Although we will not have a fire to comfort us and keep us warm, we have plenty of skins to cover us and keep the cold from seeping into our flesh.”

“Vidar, I am not a bird!”

I touched her soft cheek with my fingers and I was most pleased she did not recoil away from my touch. “No, Little One, you are not a bird. You are a princess who has a champion that has sworn an oath to provide for your comfort. He will do all that he can to provide for you.”

She placed her hand upon my hand that was upon her cheek. “My champion has indeed proved himself thus far,” she said meekly.

Her words were the kindest she had yet spoken to me and I felt a pride swell inside my chest that I had not known before. I withdrew my hand from her cheek and her hand and ruffled her hair. “Then,” I said, “your champion has much work to do.”

I went outside and set about making a sled. I made the runners of the sled from two limbs thick as my forearm with an equal curve so that the sled would track straight as I pulled it behind me. I cut and trimmed the runners with one of the blades from one of those I had killed and, in doing so, realized the metal in this blade was far superior to that of my own. I cut deep notches in the bottom and sides of the runners with my knife so that the wonderful new rope holding the sled together would not wear away as I towed it. I pointed the cross rails and where they met, I notched the runners so the joints would not slip and would hold even under stress. In my zeal I constructed sides, a high stout back and even another set of cross rails a half of an arms-length above the bottom of the runners in the same manner as I fastened the runners. I did this believing it was so that I did not have to worry about our bounty falling out as we traveled. I suspected that it was because if providence made it so and we would have to sleep in the trees the little one could sleep comfortably upon something solid and might feel more like the princess I thought her to be and she might feel less like a bird in a nest made of skins.

We had a great meal before we set out on our journey to the river in the mountains to the south and west. While I had been outside constructing our sled the little one had taken it upon her to cook us a meal. She had used some of the spiced dried beef, some of the coarse grains, and some of the strange orange root vegetable to make a stew. It was a meal of the most delicious food I had eaten in all my days and I ate with a vengeance. I ate until I believed my belly might burst. I complimented her profusely as I ate but she said nothing. The little one may not have made a comment but I could tell by the pleased expression upon her face she was very proud indeed of her cooking skills.

We rested for a short time so that I might digest my meal and so that it would not cause cramps in my belly later as we traveled. While we rested I used the time to sew a purse for the little one as I had earlier promised. She watched intently as I used a small needle of bone and the short unwound strands of the rope leftover from the construction of the sled. I used the finest ends of the finest skin and made the purse just big enough so that she could fit her small hand inside. When I was done sewing the purse, I took the silk ribbon from her hand, folded it most carefully and placed it inside the purse. As I handed it to my charge, she had tears in her eyes but eagerly accepted it. She put the loop of the purse over her head and then tucked it under the felt cloth she wore so that it was next to her heart.

She raised her head and met my eyes. “Vidar, you continue to prove yourself to be a most fine champion,” she said as she wiped away her tears.

I smiled and said nothing. I was afraid that if I opened my mouth my eyes would also open and I did not wish her to see my tears. It was becoming ever more important to me that my charge did not think I was weak.

I dressed myself with my skins and dragged the bounty outside to stow it upon the sled. The wind had shifted to the south and blew slightly warmer. The moon and stars lit a clear sky and I took it as a good omen. When I was done packing the sled I called to the little one to come outside and take her place in my arm so that we might get on our way. She slipped out of the cubby and moved to me but stopped and took a second look at the sled.

“I had expected a couple of big pine branches tied together,” she gasped, wrapping her arms around her small body. “I was not expecting a real sled.”

“It would take considerable effort to drag weighted pine branches through the snow,” I explained. “We need to move with haste because and it is important that I do not tire quickly.”

“But,” she said, “This is a fine sled.”

“Thank you, Little One,” I said. “Now you must take your place in the curve of my arm before you get chilled.”

She nodded and quickly took her place upon my arm. I took a tight grip on the towrope of the sled and passed it over my shoulder. I found the star of the North just so I could barely see it from the corner of my eye and began our trek towards the mountains. Before I took the first step I made a silent prayer to the old Gods of the north and, for good measure, I made another to the new Great God of the south to bless us on this journey and that the map I had drawn inside my head was accurate.