Isn't it just like me to forget about Canadian Thanksgiving... *Insert face-palm here* Here's the next chapter. Finally. Much later than I wanted, but at least it isn't after Halloween yet. Lol. Next one should be up much sooner, at least. BTW, can I just say, I am constantly blown away by the feedback whenever I post a new story. You guys are awesome! :D
CB73: I suppose we'll just have to see ;) You're right about it upsetting someone and their well laid plans though...
nandjferon: Haha, here you go. Later than I wanted, but I hope to have another chap done before the week is up. I am running out of time, after all. Lol. And thanks for that :) I don't mind being your guilty habit :P
Zafirya: Aww, thanks :) That really makes my day to hear
b3ach5oy: Thanks so much for that :)
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The young maiden huffed out a breath as she hoisted a heavy woven basket of produce into the back of a little cart. Stretching over the wooden side rails as she adjusted the cargo until the weight was balanced just so. When she was finally satisfied that it wouldn't tip over and spill its contents somewhere along the bumpy road, she stepped back and nodded proudly to herself. Then she moved to the lovely white horse at the front of the cart, and gave her a scratch under her chin. Receiving a snort in return as the mare nuzzled her velvety snout against her best friend and pranced on the spot.
"Easy Stormfly," the woman muttered soothingly. "That's my good girl." Stormfly was a tough and sure-footed work horse that could easily go hoof-to-hoof with almost any war horse, but she had never much liked being harnessed to the rickety little cart. Not that the woman blamed her, as the cart was a bit unbalanced and the harness tended to restrict movement, but the horse would put up with it for her rider. You see, Stormfly also happened to be the woman's best and most trusted friend.
Glancing up at the swirling grey storm clouds overhead, the woman let out a soft sigh. Hopefully the storm held off at least long enough for them to make it to town and back. She wasn't much in the mood to get both cold and drenched today. Scowling in warning at the ominous sky, the maiden reached up to brush the sweat from her brow. Barely bothering with the grime on her hands, as her calloused fingers left a streak of dirt just below the edge of her bonnet. Not that it mattered much.
Even with dark earth smeared across her face, Astrid Hofferson was still beautiful. Gifted with flaxen hair, bright blue eyes, and skin as fair as any noblewoman, she would not seem out of place amidst the fine ladies of the King's court. Unfortunately, someone like Astrid would never see the inside of the palace. Her faded blue linen dress and threadbare white bonnet marked her out as nothing more than a common peasant, and this was all she would ever be - despite her looks.
"I'll never know why you don't just let Tuffnut do all the heavy lifting," came a drawling voice from behind her then. "It's all he's good for really."
Astrid turned to face her neighbour Ruffnut with a roll of her eyes. "Because I don't need anyone to help me, and your twin brother is an idiot who can't be trusted to put vegetables in a cart without setting something on fire." The same could be said for the female twin as well, but Astrid opted to leave that part out. "Where is Tuff anyways," she couldn't help asking as she glanced around in search of the lanky young man with his braided dirty blonde hair and slouching walk. "We need to deliver this stuff to Gobber's before noon, and I would prefer not to get caught in that storm."
"He went to find Chicken," Ruff returned with a shrug. Fiddling idly with the ties on the bodice of her dusty brown dress and being as unhelpful as physically possible, as usual. Her answer making Astrid arch a brow and cross her arms as she peered back at her friend. Even with her own dirty blonde hair tucked under a grey bonnet and a dress on, Ruffnut still looked so much like her brother that it was startling. Both of them bearing the same long faces, similarly lanky frames, and insolently slouching postures that all seemed a marker of the Thorston clan.
"Unbelievable," Astrid grumbled under her breath. The Thorston family had worked the plot of land adjacent to the Hoffersons for as long as Astrid could remember. Both of them granted decently sized parcels of fertile soil through copyhold leases. In Astrid's youth, the two fields had been overflowing with fat vegetables and waving stalks of grain. The Hofferson family had even managed to make enough profit to replace their old wattle and daub home with a much larger cruck house that served to better hold the coming winter chill at bay. Now that Mr. Thorston had fallen ill and Mr. Hofferson had passed on, the fields were becoming substantially emptier.
The Lord who owned the land had taken an unusual measure of pity on them though. Allowing the families to continue residing there, even if they had a hard time upholding the terms of their leases these days. It was a charitable act that the other neighbours did not necessarily agree with. Their closest neighbour, Mildew the Miserable, was one of the most vocal of the lot. Continually eyeing up the fallow stretch of dirt as if longing to plant more of his gross cabbages in it.
Finally Tuffnut arrived - carrying his pet chicken under one arm - and at Astrid's glare, he and his sister loaded into the cart alongside the vegetables without another word. With a shake of her head, Astrid hoisted herself onto the bench seat instead and flicked the reins. Stormfly immediately falling into an easy canter as they set out down the rutted old road towards the village. The church bells were already chiming the hour in the distance, and Astrid couldn't keep from huffing an exasperated sigh as she tugged her shawl tighter around her shoulders. She knew that Gobber would never get cross with her for showing up late with a delivery, but hopefully he wouldn't be too inconvenienced by it either. If only she could depend on her human friends as much as she depended on her faithful equine one.
The village of Berk was a quiet one with a weird history. Positioned along the coast of the North Sea in the county of Suffolk and keeping mostly to itself, it boasted decent fishing and a fair amount of arable land - as well as a few hundred people with very weird names. According to local lore, the townsfolk were of ancient Norse ancestry. As such, they tended to still give their children traditionally hideous names in order to frighten off gnomes and trolls. Astrid wasn't sure how much stock she put in the old tales. In her opinion, most of the villagers sounded more like they came from Scotland than from Scandinavia.
Thanks to this colourful heritage, many of the little homes and businesses bore far more decoration than in other towns and villages nearby. Most of the shops on the Main Street sporting carved pillars and dragon motifs on the facades. Gobber's tavern, The Mead Hall, even had two massive statues of helmeted Viking warriors guarding the entrance. This elaborate display was likely only for the sake of travellers though, as most of the homes outside of town were far more understated. Still painted in bright and cheery colours, but without all the expensive carvings.
It was a nice place to live, and the only one that Astrid had really ever known. When she was younger, her father used to tell her stories about the rest of the Kingdom. Weaving fanciful tales of the lush green hills of Ireland, and the craggy Scottish moors. Astrid used to sit on his knee by the fire and dream of escaping her harsh existence to explore the world around her. Then she had grown up and realized that such dreams were only for the naive and childish. No one escaped this life. You could only make that best of what you had, and be happy for it.
When they rolled to a stop outside Gobber's tavern, the large man was already standing on the steps waiting for them. Burly arms crossed over his big barrel chest, and his mouth drawn into a frown below his braided blonde moustache. Gobber the Belch was a formidable looking man with a bald head, missing teeth, a peg leg, and an interchangeable prosthetic arm that was currently sporting an attachment with a large meat tenderizer on it. He was also a big softy that would give you the shirt off his back and the peg off his leg if you needed them. Not that you'd really want either thing. In a village where bathing already wasn't commonplace, Gobber was the worst of the lot.
"Bout time ya got here," Gobber grouched as Astrid hopped down from the bench and fussily straightened her navy blue skirts.
"Sorry Gobber, but it wasn't my fault," Astrid countered blandly. Shooting a glare back at the twins, who were conspicuously looking off in different directions to avoid her eyes. Stormfly snorting in agreement as she pawed at the dirt.
"Ooh, look! Trader Johan is here," Tuff suddenly quipped. He and his sister getting uncharacteristically excited about the travelling merchant. Both of them were jumping out of the cart and dashing off towards the village square before Astrid could even think to stop them.
Muttering under her breath, she watched them go for a moment. So much for Tuffnut helping with the heavy lifting… Then she moved to wrestle the basket out of the cart and carry it into the tavern for Gobber. "Aye, let me. Ya shouldn' be carryin that lass," Gobber grumbled as he stumped after her.
"Don't be ridiculous," Astrid snapped back with a roll of her eyes. "I have two arms, two legs, and I'm stronger than I look."
"Lord knows you and your ma both are," Gobber supplied kindly. Smiling at Astrid now as she set the basket on a chair in the kitchen, and she smiled back. "How're you lot holding up out there," he asked in a much softer tone. "You have enough wood for the winter? I had a pretty good haul this summer, and I could probably afford to give you some if you need it."
Astrid despised feeling like a charity case, but she was grateful for his concern just the same. Gobber had been buying produce from her family's farm for years now, and he had become something of their guardian angel after her father had died. Paying more than market value for what little they could spare, and offering leftovers from his kitchen when times were especially lean. In a world where women on their own had few options, it was likely the only thing that had kept the little family afloat.
"Thanks, but I think we're good," Astrid replied with a sigh. "If we're going to be short, I should know well before the worst of the cold hits and I'll go get more myself." It was not proper for a lady to be out in the woods gathering firewood, but it would not be the first time Astrid had gone against societies silly rules. Her two young brothers were not yet old enough to be of much help with the chores, and someone needed to keep their family alive. Gobber scowled again, but said nothing as he simply handed over a small pouch of coins. He knew better than to press the issue.
Tucking the pouch into a pocket on her skirt, Astrid forced a bright smile onto her face. "Mom put the poultice for your leg into the bottom of the basket along with some treated linen for wrappings," she offered now as she tried to bring the subject away from her family's precarious situation. "She also made up a tea that should help ease some of the pain and inflammation, and let you sleep. One spoonful in hot water before bed each night. Steep for 5 minutes, or until the water turns a deep purple, and then drink it all at once."
"Aye," Gobber acknowledged with a nod. "Give your momma my thanks. You lot of lovely ladies are much too good to me," he teased.
"You know us. We Hofferson ladies aim to please," Astrid grinned back. Making Gobber laugh heartily as he shook his head at her. With a wave, she made her way back out to the street to track down the twins.
Venturing into the square, Astrid was greeted by the sight of a rather large crowd gathered around the centre. Trader Johann, in his bright garments of blue and red, was standing on the platform below the statue. Putting on a show as he relayed tales from his travels to the interested villagers. Peering around for a familiar face, Astrid spotted the local Deacon, Fishlegs Ingerman, and headed over to him. His white alb and green stole standing out starkly amidst the darker coloured clothing all around him - not that it needed to. Fishlegs was built tall and wide, like most of the people of the village. His sturdy frame a bit at odds with his monkish blonde hair, gentle green eyes, squeaky voice, and almost childlike innocence. Other than her family and Gobber, he was also probably one of the only people she really tolerated too.
When she started to ask him what was going on though, he shushed her and pointed to Johann. "Fine people of Berk, I come bearing dark tidings," Johann was saying. His voice cast dramatically low as he pressed a hand to his heart. "It seems that a scourge of evil has fallen upon this great Kingdom. East Anglia has become plagued with…" He drew out the moment as the people held their breath in anticipation. "…Witches," he finished with a flourish, and a chorus of gasps rang out.
"It is said that a dark shadow rides into town. Disguised as a man upon a steed as black as midnight, and bringing with it the temptation of the Devil himself," he proclaimed darkly. "Calling the witches out from whence they are hiding - to dance with him beneath the dark moon! Already more than 40 mistresses of Satan have been discovered between Manningtree, Norwich, and Great Yarmouth. The shadow is clearly making its way along the coast. How long before it comes here? To Berk?!"
Johann's shout carried across the square. Resulting in a flurry of muttering and whispers from the now panicked people. A few children beginning to cry while their mothers clutched them closer. Everyone looking to those around them with worried eyes. What were they to do?
Astrid felt a chill shiver down her own spine at Johann's words. Everyone knew that witches existed. If God had servants here on Earth, it only made sense that the Devil would want some too. The real question was, what could they do? Was there a way to prepare for the coming of this dark shadow? Or did they just have to hope that it decided to bypass Berk?
Then Astrid took a deep breath as she forced herself to calm down and think rationally. A true witch was supposed to be able to call up storms and summon demons. Surely someone that powerful would have made themselves known long before now? Coming from a long line of Cunningfolk, Astrid knew that most of what people thought was witchcraft, wasn't magic at all.
There was no special power in making use of the healing qualities of plants. All that took was practice, and a fair amount of knowledge passed down through the generations. Although, apparently her Great Aunt Elizabeth had been able to see coming storms in the patterns of chicken bones, but Astrid had doubts about how reliable a gift that even was. All she could see when she looked at chicken bones was a good ingredient for soup. No, there had never been any sign of a witch in Berk before, and what reason would one have to show up now.
Nudging Fishlegs with her elbow, she motioned for him to follow her out of the square. She hadn't seen the twins in that crowd, and she had a sneaking suspicion where they might be instead. When she glanced up at the large blonde man walking beside her though, it was easy to tell that Fishlegs looked visibly shaken. "You aren't seriously believing Trader Johann's crazy stories, are you," she asked him. "You know he's just trying to scare people so they'll buy some of his useless amulets."
"Maybe," Fishlegs allowed. "Or maybe he's telling the truth." When Astrid just arched a brow at him, Fishlegs held up his large hands defensively. "Or, at least partially. Look, I'm not asking you to go back there and buy one of his raw onion necklaces. I'm just saying that maybe we should be careful," he implored. "I'd already heard about the scourge of witch trials sweeping through East Anglia from Rev. Magmar. Apparently one of the condemned witches was masquerading as an ordained clergyman. You never know who it might be."
Astrid gave a bit of an involuntary shudder at that, but then she brushed it off. "Trust me Fish," she joked as she patted his arm reassuringly. "If anyone here had magical powers, we'd already know about it. Vikings aren't known for their subtlety, after all." He didn't look entirely convinced, but the worry lines around his eyes did fade somewhat, and Astrid offered him a half smile. "Now, enough crazy talk about witches. I need to find Ruff and Tuff so I can head home, and I'd bet my family's last turnip that those two are out tipping yaks at Mulch's farm."
"You're probably right, but what does that have to do with me," Fish moaned as he tried to plead her with his pale green eyes.
"Because if Sheriff Jorgenson is already there, you're going to talk to him for me while I get the twins and myself out of there," Astrid grinned back. "Hopefully without his son seeing me. Think of it as charitable mercy for the less fortunate."
As Fish groaned even louder, Astrid grabbed him by the sleeve and started tugging him towards the other end of town with a laugh. Pushing thoughts of sinister stories and dark shadows out of her mind. She meant what she had said to Fish, after all. It was doubtful that there was a witch already hiding in their midst, and what reason would one have to show up out of the blue? Berk was a quiet little village without much wealth to spare. Whatever evil was stirring outside of their little haven, it wasn't going to come here.
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Well, that's an ominous ending...
And now we have most of our characters introduced. Thank goodness. That's one of the toughest parts for me, honestly. Hope you liked it.
Anybody pick up anymore breadcrumbs along the way yet? ;)