Here, in this fic, you may think that I'm writing in pre-Roman times, but
the truth is, even as recent as 'medieval' times, much of Europe was
isolated, particularly the small villages like Godric and Gelda's. And this
is set in pre-medieval Europe, so there you go. You know how it is in
History: we say Jesus lived 2000 years ago, lazily, but we all know he
didn't really. It's just easier than to get all scholarly over it.
Even in circa. 980, when that area was part of the Holy Roman Empire.
Obviously not that Holy. Elsewise they wouldn't have had the Vikings *snigger*
Chapter Two
The forest was too big for anyone to pass it by. That was what Godric said when I asked why we weren't headed for the forest which we could go through to get to the main towns. He added that it being so big, we could go through it anytime we wanted.
I asked no more questions.
Our village is encased on it's south, east and west sides, my highland. To the north is the forest and beyond that, as I said before, are the main towns. I wondered if the raiders had gone to them as well.
So, Godric and I went north-east, over the highlands and back down again. It took us five days to cross the wretched hill-country. With us going over such difficult terrain, Godric advised to eat as little as possible, and always when we were walking. He was lucky that there were no survivors from the village, because he'd have a hard enough time trying to convince them that eating less was better. Me being the obedient little sister that I was, I simply obeyed.
I think that I impressed him further when I would gnaw at rope whenever I could avoid eating, but that didn't mean that our supplies weren't going: they were, and Godric was pleased at the slow rate that they were.
And I was pleased that he was pleased.
During the nights, we would camp in the Hollows that were in the sides of the hills, rather like caves, only mossier. Godric insisted on lighting all the fires and never let me see how he would do it, which was strange. Then, I would snuggle up against him, and observe how my auburn hair would mingle with his and how warm and large he was.
I would politely ask for stories. He would grin at me, tug my self-made braids - how I missed Oulani, the old thrall woman. She did the best braids - and pull a blanket around me, all readied to hear a tale.
He was my Godric.
On the third night after travelling through what looked like the same old sheep-terrain, I asked Godric where we were going.
"The port City Pomerania of Wends," he replied. "Where the river Oder empties."
"We'll have a long way north, then," I remarked. Men liked women who spoke intelligently, and I wouldn't have my brother thinking that I was the most ignorant of thrall-mistresses.
"Aye, but we'll take certain... routes. And we'll stop at roadside towns... it won't be so bad, Ahatti."
I frowned in the same way that Mamere would and he laughed. Pulling my nose, he added, "trust me, Ahatti... you'll see."
When the five days were over, we reached lower land. Moor land It was more difficult to find places to take refuge where other tribes wouldn't harm us, but we managed. The flat land had many springs for me and Godric to be able to run at great speed and be able to quench our thirst and not faint or keel over. We filled our gourds over and over that we forgot about the future where we may not be able to have so much water at our disposal.
Only another seven days and we had crossed the wild moor land. We found ourselves in light woodland once again and on the other side of it, was the river.
"Oder?" I asked over the gushing waters.
"Aye!"
He withdrew a few pinches of fround lapis luzili we had taken from the Merchant's longhouse, and threw it into the river. "To Oder!"
I took out a few dried blueberries from my side pack and did the same. "To Oder!"
"Oder the great!"
"Oder! River of rivers!"
He swung me onto his shoulders and ran between the light forestry, always near the river, shouting praises for the river. Who knows what Raider could have gotten us? But we were both too excited and pleased with our fortunes.
We rested that night in a hollow of an elder tree, gnawing on salt beef, munching our apples and wolfing handfulls of dried blueberries downing it all with the slightly bitter ale. Our bread we almost finished that night. Our meat - save for the cursed salt beef - gone.
"Tomorrow, Ahatti," he murmured, stroking my hair gently, "we'll have fish."
"Mmmmmmmmmmm!" I grinned. "Pike?"
"As much as Oder wishes to give us." He replied.
"Bass?"
"Mm... I hope so. Now sleep, Ahatti."
"Yes Godric."
*
We did have fish the next night. And for several night's after as well. I would explore the small forest and collect mushrooms and herbs for the future journey. Once, I had forgotten to take some cheese for lunch when I explored and found a small leaf growing in the ground that tasted sweet like honey and was as filling as bread if I ate enough of them. I looked for more. When I found some, I picked them and kept them to dry.
We travelled at a leisurely pace: Godric would hunt as he did before in our home forest. Rarely was it that he didn't catch something, no matter how small. Just as it had been in our slaughtered village, if he didn't bring any game, he would woo my good humour with herbs.
He began to return to letting me light the fires. He even carved out a bowl for me to make stew in. He lined it with the clay by the river and polished it. I made a good stew with rabbit and the sweet leaf I found before. I think I shall call it 'oxen's clover'. Oxen like sweet things.
On our tenth day in the small forest, as I washed my face in the stream, Godric approached me.
"Ahatti," he began quietly, "where we are going.... you will be in danger, being a girl. If you lose your way in the market, you will be sold as a slave, raped, prostituted... "
I shuddered at the fact that he - a man - would be telling me this.
"I will always be there, but... things happen..." his eyes shifted.
"Aye, I know," I replied, sounding as cold as Mamere whenever Selda - my eldest sister - would come to our longhouse from her husband's, asking for some herbs, fluttering her lashes and deepening her dimples.
"Gelda."
"Aye?"
He paused. "That sword I packed for you... get it."
I clucked my tongue, making his eyes dance, and hurried off to the hollow in which we were staying. I unwound my pack and saw the sword. It was a small one, fit for a young boy who was just beginning swordplay. It fitted my hand perfectly. I recognised it, as well: it was the one called Gryphon.
Out I came again, to see my brother bare-chested. The shock couldn't be described: in the village, men were discouraged from showing too much chest in case their wife grew jealous and divroced them. But there he was, bare- chested before me. He flexed his arm-muscles and rolled his neck and shoulders. I shook my head in disdain, the first time I had ever felt it when concerning him. If I cut him, it may teach him better manners.
I almost laughed at myself.
"Now, Ahatti," he said, white teeth flashing. "Put that sword down."
The surprise showed on my face, but I obeyed. As usual.
"Here," He tossed me a small, sword-sized branch. I caught it. "Attack me."
I gaped at him.
"A-attack?" I whispered.
"Aye, 's'what I said, is it not?" He grinned. "So come on."
I took in a breath. Eyes hardening, the look in my eye caught him unaware: I bet he never thought his 'Ahatti' could look so merciless. I charged at him, 'sword' upraised, ready to bring it down with a slash.
He blocked awkwardly. Then he decided to parry the stroke and force me off, whipping the air expertly with his own 'sword'.
I heard myself growl.
He continued to bring his branch down in violent swipes. I remembered this stance from watching the men at it. I would be like a sprite, and dance around, looking for a space to slip into. I began to attack from the side at his wrist.
He smiled, impressed.
However, I was only a beginner. I tired easily. My attacks lost power. Eventually, I let him put his 'sword' in the 'kill' position.
Looking up to the sky, he roared out his laughter.
~
Wends: You look on a map of Europe. That little crook on the right side of Denmark. Keep on going along the coast until you get to the first large dip in the land, where there are two minute islands there. The mainland bit used to be called Wends. I did research, people. I deserve your reviews. The Sorting Hat never said that all four of the Founders were English. And if it did, be quiet.
Even in circa. 980, when that area was part of the Holy Roman Empire.
Obviously not that Holy. Elsewise they wouldn't have had the Vikings *snigger*
Chapter Two
The forest was too big for anyone to pass it by. That was what Godric said when I asked why we weren't headed for the forest which we could go through to get to the main towns. He added that it being so big, we could go through it anytime we wanted.
I asked no more questions.
Our village is encased on it's south, east and west sides, my highland. To the north is the forest and beyond that, as I said before, are the main towns. I wondered if the raiders had gone to them as well.
So, Godric and I went north-east, over the highlands and back down again. It took us five days to cross the wretched hill-country. With us going over such difficult terrain, Godric advised to eat as little as possible, and always when we were walking. He was lucky that there were no survivors from the village, because he'd have a hard enough time trying to convince them that eating less was better. Me being the obedient little sister that I was, I simply obeyed.
I think that I impressed him further when I would gnaw at rope whenever I could avoid eating, but that didn't mean that our supplies weren't going: they were, and Godric was pleased at the slow rate that they were.
And I was pleased that he was pleased.
During the nights, we would camp in the Hollows that were in the sides of the hills, rather like caves, only mossier. Godric insisted on lighting all the fires and never let me see how he would do it, which was strange. Then, I would snuggle up against him, and observe how my auburn hair would mingle with his and how warm and large he was.
I would politely ask for stories. He would grin at me, tug my self-made braids - how I missed Oulani, the old thrall woman. She did the best braids - and pull a blanket around me, all readied to hear a tale.
He was my Godric.
On the third night after travelling through what looked like the same old sheep-terrain, I asked Godric where we were going.
"The port City Pomerania of Wends," he replied. "Where the river Oder empties."
"We'll have a long way north, then," I remarked. Men liked women who spoke intelligently, and I wouldn't have my brother thinking that I was the most ignorant of thrall-mistresses.
"Aye, but we'll take certain... routes. And we'll stop at roadside towns... it won't be so bad, Ahatti."
I frowned in the same way that Mamere would and he laughed. Pulling my nose, he added, "trust me, Ahatti... you'll see."
When the five days were over, we reached lower land. Moor land It was more difficult to find places to take refuge where other tribes wouldn't harm us, but we managed. The flat land had many springs for me and Godric to be able to run at great speed and be able to quench our thirst and not faint or keel over. We filled our gourds over and over that we forgot about the future where we may not be able to have so much water at our disposal.
Only another seven days and we had crossed the wild moor land. We found ourselves in light woodland once again and on the other side of it, was the river.
"Oder?" I asked over the gushing waters.
"Aye!"
He withdrew a few pinches of fround lapis luzili we had taken from the Merchant's longhouse, and threw it into the river. "To Oder!"
I took out a few dried blueberries from my side pack and did the same. "To Oder!"
"Oder the great!"
"Oder! River of rivers!"
He swung me onto his shoulders and ran between the light forestry, always near the river, shouting praises for the river. Who knows what Raider could have gotten us? But we were both too excited and pleased with our fortunes.
We rested that night in a hollow of an elder tree, gnawing on salt beef, munching our apples and wolfing handfulls of dried blueberries downing it all with the slightly bitter ale. Our bread we almost finished that night. Our meat - save for the cursed salt beef - gone.
"Tomorrow, Ahatti," he murmured, stroking my hair gently, "we'll have fish."
"Mmmmmmmmmmm!" I grinned. "Pike?"
"As much as Oder wishes to give us." He replied.
"Bass?"
"Mm... I hope so. Now sleep, Ahatti."
"Yes Godric."
*
We did have fish the next night. And for several night's after as well. I would explore the small forest and collect mushrooms and herbs for the future journey. Once, I had forgotten to take some cheese for lunch when I explored and found a small leaf growing in the ground that tasted sweet like honey and was as filling as bread if I ate enough of them. I looked for more. When I found some, I picked them and kept them to dry.
We travelled at a leisurely pace: Godric would hunt as he did before in our home forest. Rarely was it that he didn't catch something, no matter how small. Just as it had been in our slaughtered village, if he didn't bring any game, he would woo my good humour with herbs.
He began to return to letting me light the fires. He even carved out a bowl for me to make stew in. He lined it with the clay by the river and polished it. I made a good stew with rabbit and the sweet leaf I found before. I think I shall call it 'oxen's clover'. Oxen like sweet things.
On our tenth day in the small forest, as I washed my face in the stream, Godric approached me.
"Ahatti," he began quietly, "where we are going.... you will be in danger, being a girl. If you lose your way in the market, you will be sold as a slave, raped, prostituted... "
I shuddered at the fact that he - a man - would be telling me this.
"I will always be there, but... things happen..." his eyes shifted.
"Aye, I know," I replied, sounding as cold as Mamere whenever Selda - my eldest sister - would come to our longhouse from her husband's, asking for some herbs, fluttering her lashes and deepening her dimples.
"Gelda."
"Aye?"
He paused. "That sword I packed for you... get it."
I clucked my tongue, making his eyes dance, and hurried off to the hollow in which we were staying. I unwound my pack and saw the sword. It was a small one, fit for a young boy who was just beginning swordplay. It fitted my hand perfectly. I recognised it, as well: it was the one called Gryphon.
Out I came again, to see my brother bare-chested. The shock couldn't be described: in the village, men were discouraged from showing too much chest in case their wife grew jealous and divroced them. But there he was, bare- chested before me. He flexed his arm-muscles and rolled his neck and shoulders. I shook my head in disdain, the first time I had ever felt it when concerning him. If I cut him, it may teach him better manners.
I almost laughed at myself.
"Now, Ahatti," he said, white teeth flashing. "Put that sword down."
The surprise showed on my face, but I obeyed. As usual.
"Here," He tossed me a small, sword-sized branch. I caught it. "Attack me."
I gaped at him.
"A-attack?" I whispered.
"Aye, 's'what I said, is it not?" He grinned. "So come on."
I took in a breath. Eyes hardening, the look in my eye caught him unaware: I bet he never thought his 'Ahatti' could look so merciless. I charged at him, 'sword' upraised, ready to bring it down with a slash.
He blocked awkwardly. Then he decided to parry the stroke and force me off, whipping the air expertly with his own 'sword'.
I heard myself growl.
He continued to bring his branch down in violent swipes. I remembered this stance from watching the men at it. I would be like a sprite, and dance around, looking for a space to slip into. I began to attack from the side at his wrist.
He smiled, impressed.
However, I was only a beginner. I tired easily. My attacks lost power. Eventually, I let him put his 'sword' in the 'kill' position.
Looking up to the sky, he roared out his laughter.
~
Wends: You look on a map of Europe. That little crook on the right side of Denmark. Keep on going along the coast until you get to the first large dip in the land, where there are two minute islands there. The mainland bit used to be called Wends. I did research, people. I deserve your reviews. The Sorting Hat never said that all four of the Founders were English. And if it did, be quiet.
