The longhall was just barely lit by the glow of the braziers. Wicken sat half shrouded in darkness on his simple chair elevated above all others. His uncle Rickon stood in front of him with one hand resting on the axe that hung from his belt. Both their faces were smeared by blood and grime following the raid that drew Wicken away from his wife's birthing bed. He sat their in silence while the screams of pain occasionally filtered through the walls. An eternity seemed to pass until his sister Hilda came in through a side door, her arms and face clean but still wearing a stained leather cuirass. Wicken looked up at her and noticed the dim light of a new day through the doors at the far end of the hall.
'He's waiting for you,' she said.
Wicken stood and accompanied by Rickon followed Hilda back through the doorway and to a room that smelt of death. Passed Hilda he saw his wife laying in a bed, servants rushing around the bed carrying sheets and pails of water. His wife held something to her chest wrapped in cloth. She looked up at them and smiled. A great weigh was lifted off his shoulders when he saw her smile and he pushed himself past Hilda and knelt by the bed. His wife passed him the bundle of cloth and his heart leapt at the sight of the small face breathing softly, the child's eyes closed and sound asleep. Wicken smiled as he stood up and walked out of the room and to a balcony overlooking the yard and the town of Saltstone beyond it. The town was wide awake due to the wildling raid during the night. Saltstone was fairly unremarkable as a small village save for the collection of burnt buildings on the north shore of the Frostwrath. The longhall sat in a ringed fortification with a wierwood tree in the centre. All around the fort clustered the houses and workshops of the tribes people. The town extended all the way to the shore with a small port along the coast. Most of the town sat of the north shore of the Frostwrath, including the longhall. Few houses were on the south shore and most of the land was for farming. Situated in a fjord with mountains all around it Saltstone was very difficult to attack and it was relatively undefended as a result. The elevated and enclosed longhall that sat on the bank of the Frostwrath was the exception that served to act as what the rest of the town existed around.
The newborn had opened his eyes and looked at him. Wicken looked into his sons bright blue eyes and smiled again.
'All this will be yours one day Leif.'