Author's notes: Apologies for the delayed update. The holiday festivities impinged on my posting schedule. Still, I don't feel too bad, having posted 56 updates in 2020. I wish everyone a very Happy New Year with my hopes for our fortunes in 2021. Let's face it, 2020 was a bad year by almost any estimation. Sorrow and prayers for those lost. Still, there were glimmers of hope. Be well and stay safe...fate's pendulum swings and things will get better, even if they get worse first.
In An Age Before – Part 206
Now the years following the arrival of Eadmundr's family at Norðr-vestandóttir Bý in 1899 were years of growth and peace, and much happiness. The woman taught her methods of farming to Ierþling and Ælla and they proved quick and committed students. Their two-story home rose 'cross the yard from Norðr-vestandóttir's cabin, eventually dwarfing it with its sprawling additions. Along one side, with separate exterior entrances, were an office for the farm's records kept by Eadmundr and Milde, Lyft's weaving studio, and a chandler's workshop where Norðr-vestandóttir moved her store of beeswax and wicks, dipping frames and melting pots. 'Twas a craft that the woman found herself teaching to Hertha¹, the younger daughter of Ælla and Ierþling. ¹(Hertha, Earth Old English)
The harvest of 1899 came in and the yields of the crops were as good as in the previous year, but with the help of Ierþling, Ælla, Egill, and Sumor, Norðr-vestandóttir found herself saving 'nigh a fortnight. She was astonished when she looked at the fields and saw 'naught else needing cutting. The processing of the grain, threshing and winnowing, went equally fast. When Norðr-vestandóttir took the wheat and rye to be ground into flour, Sumor begged leave to accompany her to the mill. She seemed to find any excuse to visit, whether there was grist to grind or no. Kátmaðr always made her feel welcome and Alrekr was always glad to see her. The two young teens would sit together in the mill, their feet dangling o'er the edge of the mezzanine, speaking self-consciously, but laughing spontaneously, all 'neath the mylnweard's watchful eye whilst a grin played 'cross his lips.
With the free time gifted by the family's aid at harvest time, Norðr-vestandóttir set to work expanding her tillage. The family aided her in breaking and turning the soil of another four acres, one for each crop. So began the expansion of the farm that Captain Hrólfr had hoped for. After the growing season of 1900, she harvested three acres each of wheat, rye, oats, and lucerne, and increased her total yields by the expected fifty percent.
In 1900, Norðr-vestandóttir had also expanded her vegetable garden, where many stakes now rose supporting the vines of beans and peas. Behind the byre stood the saplings of a half-dozen hazelnut trees, and spaced well apart further afield, a half-dozen sweet chestnut saplings. Along a stretch lying inland from the track leading to the mill and downstream from the berry brambles, stood a half-dozen saplings of common walnut. In the autumn she broke ground and spread seeds to expand the wildflower garden. O'er the winter, Ælla aided her in constructing three more bee hives.
By then, Sumor had become a full-time shepherdess. She knew the hills 'round the farm like the back of her hand, and she knew the rounds the sheep made of their favored pastures. She checked on them each day, and more than once pulled free a lamb mired in mud or out of a briar patch. Most of the time though, she simply kept company with her friends and checked them for any signs of lameness or other afflictions. Also, after her encounter with the hund, she carried a sturdy staff as she minded the flock.
In 1901, Norðr-vestandóttir, Ierþling, and Ælla planted four acres each of wheat, rye, oats, and lucerne. Fifteen hives were producing honey. Following King Marhwini's gift of the six Easterling horses, the steeds numbered forty-four, and Egill presided o'er an expanded stable. Of cattle, there was the bull, thirty-eight milk cows, and a dozen calves. The population of sheep had increased to forty-three, plus Mihtig Ramm. Of chickens, the woman guessed there were somewhere 'twixt fifty and sixty.
On an early winter's day, when Norðr-vestandóttir and Egill had brought eggs and milk to Nýr Vera, Lord Rekkr met them and bid them come to his home for a council. There they were met also by Lord Hrólfr, for the old lord deemed the time ripe to advance his plan.
"Good day to thee, Norðr-vestandóttir," Hrólfr said as he beckoned her and Egill to chairs at his table. "T'would seem thou hast been yet more successful with the aid of Eadmundr's family. Have ye any complaints?" He looked 'twixt the two guests and received shakes of their heads 'nay'.
"All is well, my lord, indeed better than well," Norðr-vestandóttir said. "We have doubled the acreage 'neath cultivation, and the livestock increase in numbers. Where we had surpluses aforetime, we have yet more now. I have not only more hands, but more heads as well. As a group, we are better at more tasks than simply faster at those done aforetime."
Hrólfr and Rekkr nodded in approval at her words. 'Twas the affirmation of the increases they had seen in the quantities of grain and the other goods that she had donated or brought to market o'er the past couple years.
"Think thou that thy farm could support six more mouths?" Rekkr asked.
"Aye, we could feed another six," she said. "What hast thou in mind, my lords?"
"I would send a detachment of six soldiers to safeguard thy farm and the mill," Hrólfr said.
"Shalt thou order them garrisoned thither?" Norðr-vestandóttir asked. "If so, then I counsel thee to await the warm weather. They shall needs be housed, and stables built for their mounts, both more easily done in spring, whilst few make war in winter. I would propose a compound on the downstream side of the farm, 'nigh the track leading to the mill."
The two lords nodded, accepting her suggestions. The plan was a good one and both could see its logic, for 'twas aligned with their own. The soldiers would be close to the farm and partake of its day to day life, but they would have ready access to the mill less than a half-mile away. As they had expected, the woman gave no argument against their proposal, she simply considered how best to make it come to pass. Neither could have expected more of a vassal.
"I grant thee such added lands as are required to build such a compound; palisade, barracks, and stable primarily, and to maintain such," Lord Rekkr offered.
Norðr-vestandóttir nodded and said, "Then I shall choose wooded lands 'nigh the site of the compound, to harvest wood and stone for construction, and to create a clear-cut for shooting and security."
Again, the two lords nodded their agreement.
"I deem t'would be wise if ye could send forth the officer of this detachment ere winter's end, that he may aid me by approving the best placement and such other details of his compound as are peculiar to the military," she said.
"We shall send to thee in early spring, the officer and his detail, that they confer with thee o'er their location, and then bear the greater part of the labor of construction, for t'will be thy planting season, and I would not cause the jeopardy of thy crops," Rekkr said.
Norðr-vestandóttir bowed her head to the lords in thanks for their consideration of the needs of her farm's timing. Spring brought the rains, and ere they came, much labor needed to be accomplished in the window of time after the thaw. Then there would be the lambing season, the weeding, and later, the calving of cows, more weeding, and finally with summer, the foaling of horses. Indeed, Sumor was already carefully watching the pregnant ewes as some might give birth as early as shortly after Yule. Those newborn whilst winter's chill still lingered had oft been brought inside by Norðr-vestandóttir 'til they were a fortnight old and stronger.
Now Egill and Norðr-vestandóttir returned to the farm after much thanks from Rekkr and Hrólfr, and with the grant for the added lands writ fair on a parchment. Along the way they waved and exchanged greetings with Ivar the hunter, whom one or another amongst them would meet afield once a fortnight or so. E'er the Man appeared rakish, yet always spoke civil.
They rode out again immediately after their return to survey the land. For this, they also coaxed Eadmundr to join them as he was the only one amongst them who had been a soldier. They finally decided on a likely spot that they would present to the detail commander when he arrived. 'Twas atop a rise of a couple fathoms height that gave views of the track and the river bank both upstream and down. A small spring seeped to form a pool at the base of the northern slope, and a sturdy, aged oak stood on the northwestern side, big enough to host a lookout flet.
In the early days of the second month after Yule, the company of six riders arrived from Nýr Vera, bearing greetings from Lord Rekkr and producing the written orders for their deployment to the farm. Norðr-vestandóttir and Eadmundr's family met them in the yard 'twixt the cabin and the new house. Eadmundr read the order aloud for all to hear, and at a nod from Norðr-vestandóttir, rolled the parchment for storage with the farm's original charter and subsequent land grants in a growing archive.
The greetings 'twixt the farmers and the soldiers were warm, for leading the detachment was none other than Norðr-vestandóttir's old friend, Broddr son of Skáld, whom she had seen briefly in 1871, but only truly met in 1880 whilst he was engaged in map making on behalf of his lord and king. Indeed, 'twas Broddr who had first called her Norðr-vestandóttir and brought tidings of her farm to Captain Hrólfr. He counted fifty-two winters now, but was still hale and esteemed as a formidable warrior.
With him were five riders ranging in age from veterans in their late-thirties, to a young rider of nineteen years, a third son who had accompanied his father to Dagorlad for his first real battle. There he had met the Dúnedain, whom he was still convinced were Norðr-vestandóttir's people.
They were shown the proposed site for their compound, and after touring it, Broddr was very happy with the choice. The other soldiers too approved of their prospective new home. It had all they needed to accomplish their mission, and lay but a half-furlong southwest of the cabin and the house.
After speaking of the preparations for construction and other matters of logistics o'er the noon meal, the Men set to work, pacing off the spacing of buildings and palisade. 'Til their compound was ready for occupation, they camped out in the chandler's shop and weaving studio, and took their meals with Eadmundr's family. Ierþling was glad to have built what passed for a grand dining hall, having already had eight family members to seat for meals. Combined with the kitchen, it occupied 'nigh half of the lower story of his family's house.
"They certainly eat well here," young Knáligr¹said as he bedded down in the weaver's studio that first night. He had been impressed, seeing two chickens roasted on a platter with a sage and parsley stuffing, along with mashed potatoes, gravy, roasted onions, apples baked in a glaze of honey, fresh bread and butter, and a pie with berry filling. ¹(Knáligr, hardy, vigorous Old Norse)
"They grow more food here than any dozen farmers of Nýr Vera," Broddr told him. "The cram rations that fed our armies on Dagorlad and in the East Bight came of flour, honey, and berries grown here."
"And is this how her people, the Dúnedain, farm?" He asked. "Some knights of Gondor I met at the Undeeps and fought beside on Dagorlad, and if their bows tell 'aught of them, then they must be great farmers too."
"Of that I know not," Broddr replied. "I have ne'er been to Gondor, nor met any of that folk. Lore tells that the Dúnedain live long and age but slowly. Norðr-vestandóttir I first glimpsed in 1871, and I would swear her unchanged since that night. She may be unchanged since coming here in 1856, or so she told Captain Hrólfr when they first spoke, though none still living can attest it. In any case, Dúnedain blood or no, she is of our people, that all can see."
Knáligr accepted Broddr's words, for he knew 'naught to gainsay him. As he settled to sleep his counsels were unsettled, much like his father's, and for the same cause.
Now the construction of the compound began the next day though the ground still lay frozen 'neath their feet. They refined and adjusted the marks they had paced off the past afternoon, and then drove stakes into the ground marking those positions. The palisade they set to encircle the rise and protect the spring. After some consideration, they set their gate facing west, thereby giving the most direct exit towards the mill, for the farm lay so close to hand that the direction of their exit mattered not. The land 'twixt the gate and the track that ran along the river bank would be clear cut for a bowshot, leaving an unobstructed path to ride should their aid be required. Repeated use would create and maintain such paths.
The work of felling trees began on the soldiers' third day at the farm. Trunks were cut down and limbed, and then left for the sawyers from Nýr Vera. After a fortnight, the land was cleared and the ground thawed. The search for stone began. During that same time, the farmers began their shallow spring plowing. The manure added to the fields during a deeper fall plowing after the harvest had broken down o'er the winter, leaving the soil enriched and needing only the surface broken up for seeding. After her years cultivating this land, Norðr-vestandóttir knew the deeper soil layers would hold water for seedlings should there be a spring dry spell following germination, whilst plowing too deep in spring could cause the subsoil to dry out more quickly.
The vegetable garden was planted as posts went into the ground for the palisade. Sawyers from the village ripped boards from trunks whilst the soldiers stacked stone for a hearth. Soon the wildflowers opened their first buds and the bees came from their hives. Hundreds of trunks with diameters 'twixt a hand's span and a hand's length were sharpened at their top ends, whilst their bottom ends were buried side by side in a yard deep trench so no space showed 'twixt them. After five weeks, the stockade was complete and the gate was finished with hinges and brackets for a heavy oak bar, all forged by a smith of Nýr Vera. The finishing of the stakewall included coating the exterior with a thick layer of clay mixed with hay as fireproofing, and building a narrow berm along the interior for the defenders' advantage. The berry bramble and the apple trees flowered a fortnight later as the soldiers raised the posts for their barracks and the stable.
Now the barracks were built cut into the two fathom rise of the land such that the front with its entrance faced east, and there a door and broad window were set to take the morning light. On that part of the exposed north wall, the soldiers had built their stone hearth. But the rear of the barracks was set 'neath the ground, and there rose a stair leading above ground, so to enter the upper floor which comprised a watch tower. This had an external entrance as well, behind a narrow protective wall at the top of the rise facing west. Within was the company's meeting chamber, and a stair leading to a platform on the roof where the soldiers could view the river, the track leading east and west, and the buildings of the farm. The great oak tree on the northwest side stood a scant twenty feet from the tower, and a sizable flet there was connected to the platform by a bridge of rope and planks. It o'erlooked the gate, the adjoining palisade, and the land clear cut to the west, and provided a shooting blind to cover the approach to the stockade.
Also on the west side of the rise was located the stable with its doors facing the gate, and this was connected to the barracks by a door located 'neath the staircase leading to the watchtower. All the dirt excavated from the rears of the barracks and stables was used to raise the berm within the palisade, so that Men there could shoot down upon any who approached the stakewall.
'Nigh the end of the month following mid-year's day, Norðr-vestandóttir and Eadmundr's family were invited to tour the completed structures. They were impressed by the construction, the stakewall ten feet in height, the gate equally tall, allowing passage of riders carrying spears, or wagons for supplies. The stables and barracks were sturdy, with walls built of vertical split logs. The watchtower was tall, rising twice man height to the platform whence a Man might keep watch with eyes five fathoms above the surrounding land. Egill and his sisters delighted in the rope bridge leading to the flet in the oak tree. Eadmundr viewed all with the practiced eyes of a soldier, whilst Norðr-vestandóttir viewed it with the practical perception of a farmer.
"'Tis a sturdy and functional fort," the old rider said in praise, "not to be easily taken save by a numerous besieging force. T'would require more than thy half-dozen for defense, though."
"I mark thy constructions and preparations, yet I agree, t'would require far more riders to best defend it," she said to Broddr, "and the more so should thou needs ride out against some foes. I see too that thou hast built stabling and barrack space for a dozen and a half or more."
"Such would be the minimum required to both hold the walls and sortie against invaders of the mill or thy farm, Norðr-vestandóttir," Broddr agreed. "Perhaps one day that count of riders shall be deployed hither, yet for now, 'tis intended to accommodate thee, Eadmundr's family, and the mylnweard's family should worst come to worst."
The two farmers nodded in understanding of his intent.
"Thou hast my thanks, noble Broddr, for thy consideration of our safety beyond the military necessities," Norðr-vestandóttir said.
"Lady, thy safety and the safety of those living here and at the mill are the reason for our deployment. Providing a defensible refuge from attack was e'er part of that plan."
"I am glad for thy presence, my friend, though I hope t'will not become a necessity. Forty-five years I have dwelt here in peace and I would that it continues thus," she said.
"As would I, m'lady," Broddr said. "We are soldiers of the king, but war should not be undertaken lightly, and only then for good cause. We too shall hope for continued peace."
Now with the harvest season upon them and their labor of construction done, the soldiers aided the famers to bring in their crops. Cutting, threshing, and winnowing all went faster with the added hands, and again, Norðr-vestandóttir enjoyed the savings of a fortnight. I could grow another two acres of each grain, she thought afterwards. Hrólfr foresaw all that has come to pass and recognized the potential here far better than I. This farm can support many more mouths.
Following the harvest, the farmers plowed down the remaining stems, and then sowed peas and rye as cover crops. Into the sixteen acres of fields that had lain fallow that year, they added manure and then deep plowed to prepare the soil for planting the coming spring. A week after the equinox, they were done. Eadmundr accompanied Norðr-vestandóttir to Nýr Vera to take counsel with the lords Rekkr and Hrólfr. On their way, they again greeted Ivar 'nigh the passage through the fence. That day, the hunter had a string of three coneys 'cross his shoulders and a broad smile. Despite his burden, he somehow managed to doff his cap and sketch a courtly bow.
"My lords, I bear tidings," Norðr-vestandóttir said to Rekkr and Hrólfr. "Broddr and his soldiers have completed a fine stockade, but have not the manpower to properly defend it. On their behalf, I beseech ye to assign another half-dozen riders if that may be, and to aid us in providing for them whilst maintaining our surpluses that we may continue to support our people here, I pray ye send us another half-dozen farmers that we may grow additional crops."
Lord Rekkr nodded and Captain Hrólfr smiled. 'Twas as they had hoped. With the additional hands the soldiers had offered for the harvest, Norðr-vestandóttir had again realized an advantage by having more people working at the farm. The prompting they had initiated by bringing Eadmundr and his family to her in 1899 had proved convincing, and the creation of a new estate was well underway.
"I can easily spare thee six more soldiers, Norðr-vestandóttir," Lord Rekkr said. His words brought a smile to her face. "I believe there shall be little difficulty in finding a like count of farmers willing to relocate as well."
More likely, all the families of Eadmundr's hamlet in the East Bight shall leap at the chance, he thought.
"Would thou give thought to the benefits of having a blacksmith to join thee as well?" Hrólfr asked. "Thou hast plowshares to build or repair, parts for wagons or carts to be made, barrel hoops, horse shoes, bits, and stirrups for new mounts, tools and farming implements to replace, and assorted hardware for homes and barns to be forged."
"I shall certainly give thought to having a smithy at the farm, Lord Hrólfr. T'would be a great convenience, though I must wonder if there is yet enough work to keep a smith occupied."
"Two master smiths we have in Nýr Vera," the old lord said, "and barely the work to keep both busy. One of them, aldinn Arngrímr¹, has an apprentice 'nigh ready to open their own forge. By winter's end, their training shall be complete, but alas, there is no need of a third smith here. To earn a living, the apprentice shall be forced to migrate elsewhere, and once established, will be lost to us when a few years hence, old age forces Arngrímr to retire." ¹(aldinn Arngrímr, old Arngrim Old Norse)
"I shall give this plight serious consideration, m'lord," Norðr-vestandóttir said.
"I shall assign another half-dozen riders to reinforce Broddr's garrison, and send them hence ere winter that they may aid thee in preparing for the cold months," Lord Rekkr said.
Shortly thereafter, Eadmundr and Norðr-vestandóttir took their leave of the lords and Nýr Vera. As they rode back to the farm, they discussed Lord Hrólfr's proposal.
"We could do far worse than providing a living to one of our own that is trained, but has no prospects for work," Eadmundr said.
"I am inclined to agree, for the blacksmith's trade is not quickly learnt, and if we have less than enough work at present, that may change in the future. I wager smithying is like any other craft and experience counts for much. T'would be a rare chance for a new smith to gain experience without the immediate pressure of taking on their master's workload or customers."
"I too believe that this apprentice shall attain greater skill by working, just as my son learnt thy ways of farming despite having been a farmer all his life."
The woman nodded. Ierþling had learnt much o'er the past two years, Ælla too. Ere they had completed their ride, they had decided 'twixt themselves that they would host a forge by the next spring. As they turned from the westward track through the gap in their fence, they caught a glimpse of Ivar, trudging through the woods toward Nýr Vera, this time with a small doe lain 'cross his shoulders. The hunter had obviously had a successful day.
Having secured the promise of increased aid, Norðr-vestandóttir broke ground for four new one acre fields, clearing the land, turning the soil deeply to plow under weeds and roots, and then applying manure and turning that under less deeply. The new fields would bring the total cultivated acreage to twenty for the crop of 1902. She intended to add another four such fields in the next year, bringing the totals to six acres of wheat, rye, oats, and lucerne, twenty-four acres total, four times what any family in Nýr Vera cultivated.
The additional six riders arrived a fortnight after Norðr-vestandóttir and Eadmundr had met with Rekkr and Hrólfr. Amongst them were the two who had accompanied Broddr in his map making, and four younger soldiers of the king. They spent their first weeks laying in firewood for the winter, moving horse fodder to the stable loft, and aiding the farmers whensoe'er they could. Ere the first snowfall, they came to know the mill and the lands 'round their new home.
Winter passed with greater cheer than any had known aforetime, for the company at the farm grew close during the months of cold. At Yule, the mylnweard's family joined them for a feast of hope for the new year. Two dozen souls gathered in Ierþling's dining hall, and they shared much rejoicing and thanksgiving.
When the chill of winter began to fade, Norðr-vestandóttir and Eadmundr returned to Nýr Vera to speak with the blacksmith's apprentice. To their surprise, they discovered a young woman of eighteen years, who had not only apprenticed 'neath her father, but had grown up in the smithy.
"A ferrière?" Eadmundr whispered to Norðr-vestandóttir in surprise, "and so young."
"Why e'er not?" She replied. "I farmed my land alone for forty-three years ere thy family joined me. She hath more training than most apprentices, being the only child of a smith."
The old soldier could but nod in reluctant agreement, wondering how a warrior would feel, wagering his life in combat with a sword forged by a teenage woman.
"I am Böðvildr Arngrímdóttir¹ and I have heard all my years of thy farm, Norðr-vestandóttir," the young woman said as she broke from her labor of shoveling ash from the forge. ¹(Böðvildr Arngrímdóttir, Beadohild Arngrím's daughter Beadohild was a princess of Germanic legend, daughter of the evil King Níöuör, who had imprisoned her lover, the smith Welund. Old Norse)
"Our lord Hrólfr spoke of a smith completing their apprenticeship, but lacking sufficient demand for such skills in Nýr Vera, might be forced to seek elsewhere to ply their craft. I would offer thee a place to set thy forge and work in thy own name," Norðr-vestandóttir said.
"Thou would needs remove but two miles south," Eadmundr added, "an easy ride to visit thy father and friends who dwell hither."
"My formal training ends a fortnight hence with my eighteenth winter," she said as a smile of surprise and joy shaped her lips, "and thereafter I would be honored to join thy farm as smith."
"And we would be glad to have thee, Böðvildr," Norðr-vestandóttir said. "Pray come to us after thy apprenticeship is complete and we shall take counsel for the placement and construction of thy forge."
The girl gave a loud whoop of joy which brought her startled father racing from within the adjacent house. He skidded to a halt, saw that his daughter was jubilant and not injured, and then offered the two guests a bow.
"Welcome, Norðr-vestandóttir," he said, looking back and forth in confusion 'twixt them and his daughter, "what goes forth?"
"Father, she hath offered me patronage and a smithy on her farm," the teen fairly chortled.
"'Tis well 'nigh the best of tidings, is it not, daughter?" Arngrímr asked with a broad smile.
"Aye," Böðvildr agreed, "I have wished to see this enchanted farm since I was a girl. To settle and work there is a dream come true."
Norðr-vestandóttir managed not to roll her eyes at the claim of enchantment, whilst Eadmundr suppressed his reaction with a cough behind his hand.
"I wager thou shalt find more hard work than enchantment," Norðr-vestandóttir finally said.
Böðvildr nodded her agreement whilst obviously believing not a word. Norðr-vestandóttir and Eadmundr took their leave of the smithy shortly after and returned the farm. They were now most curious about who their lords would send as farmers.
A fortnight later to the day, Böðvildr rode to Norðr-vestandóttir's farm for the first time. Her horse, a dun mare, bore two saddlebags containing the young smith's personal effects, and a sheathed sword that she had finished but two days past, lashed to the saddle. 'Twas the mestrverk¹ of her craft thus far, forged and tempered 'neath her father's close supervision. ¹(mestrverk, great work, masterpiece Old Norse)
She had come 'round the hillock from the river, and so beheld the house of Eadmundr's family, Norðr-vestandóttir's cabin 'neath the apple trees, the smoke shed, stable, byre, sheep fold, hen house, and behind, the fallow grain fields, vegetable garden, and the wildflower garden with its peculiar beehives on stilts. In the near distance stood the stakewall and watchtower of the new stockade, looking down from its height. Late winter was the least impressive season of year to view a farm, and yet Böðvildr was enchanted.
The young smith hitched her horse to a rail outside the two-story house, deeming it the grand residence of the farm's mistress. The only other two-story home she had seen was that of Lord Hrólfr's family, from which Lord Rekkr ruled Nýr Vera. Böðvildr knocked on the door, expecting to be greeted by Norðr-vestandóttir. Instead, 'twas Sumor who answered, staring at her in confusion. She looked past her and checked the yard to either side, but saw no others.
"Good morn," the young shepherdess said in greeting, "art thou newcome from Nýr Vera? We expected thee not ere spring, and were there not to be a half-dozen?"
Now 'twas Böðvildr who stood on the doorstep in confusion. There were not a half-dozen smiths amongst all their people in the south. Perhaps in Nýrheim…
"Good morn," she said, uncertain now, "I am Böðvildr Arngrímdóttir, come from Nýr Vera at the invitation of Norðr-vestandóttir for to establish a smithy."
Sumor had only o'erheard a talk 'twixt her father and grandfather a fortnight past mentioning that a blacksmith would come from the village to work on the farm. Like e'eryone else, she had not expected a teenage ferrière. The shepherdess finally managed to close her mouth from her astonishment. The young woman was standing out in the cold.
"Pray come in and be warmed," she finally said, standing aside for her guest. "This is the home of my father, Ierþling. I am his daughter, Sumor. I am pleased to greet thee, Böðvildr."
"I am pleased to greet thee, Sumor," Böðvildr said to the younger teen as she stepped past into the vast dining hall. "Whither shall I find Norðr-vestandóttir? I should present myself at the first opportunity."
By then, Ælla, Hertha, Milde, and Eadmundr had come from various rooms to investigate the goings on. Of them all, only Eadmundr and Böðvildr recognized each other. They exchanged smiles of greeting and the young woman was relieved to find someone she knew.
"Welcome, Böðvildr," the old soldier said, "come, take a chair by the fire and have some tea."
"My thanks, sir," she said, offering a dip of her head in respect for his seniority, "the morn is still chill."
As she made her way to the hearth, Eadmundr introduced his family members to her, and she to them. Ælla took a cup, added herbs, and poured steaming water from a kettle on a swivel o'er the fire ere handing her the hot tea. Böðvildr smiled her thanks and took a cautious sip.
"My son Ierþling is at Norðr-vestandóttir's cabin, sharing counsel on preparations for the arrival of a half-dozen additional farmers. Alas, we have not heard whether they are all of one family, single individuals, or a mix of these, and so we cannot yet plan for their housing."
He sighed, shook his head, then turned to Sumor and asked, "Pray go to the cabin and give word of Böðvildr's arrival to her and thy father."
With a nod, the younger teen rose, snatched a cloak from a peg by the door, and took her leave. The distance door to door was but a dozen fathoms, and as Böðvildr finished her tea, Ierþling and Norðr-vestandóttir arrived, with Sumor trailing behind a few minutes later.
During her absence, a rider from the fort had arrived. This was Frár¹, one of the two riders who had accompanied Broddr in 1880 when he had first mapped Norðr-vestandóttir's farm. He had arrived with the second half-dozen soldiers and was now Broddr's lieutenant. ¹(Frár, Old Norse personal name signifying swift, light-footed)
"Böðvildr. Good morn to thee," he said with obvious recognition, "whyfor came thee hither? Is thy father well?"
"Aye, he is well, Lightfoot," the young smith replied with a smile, obviously familiar with him as well. "I am come to establish a smithy at Norðr-vestandóttir's invitation."
"So, thou hast completed thy training," Frár said in mock amazement, "and I recall thee as a babe but yestermorn it seems. What hath Middangeard come to?"
The ferrière rolled her eyes, but smiled at his jest and asked, "Has thy memory fled with the advance of thy years? I have celebrated a birthday each year since. Does thy horse still bear the shoes I shod him with this autumn past?"
"Aye, he does, and well they have served him," he replied with a smile, "I am glad to see thee, Arngrímdóttir."
Ierþling and Norðr-vestandóttir entered the dining hall then. Frár offered her a bow and a greeting of, "Fair morn, m'lady."
"Fair morn to thee, good Frár," she replied with a dip of her head, then her eyes settled on the young smith and she smiled.
"Welcome and fair morn to thee, Böðvildr Arngrímdóttir," she said. "I am glad thou hast come. We must take counsel. Pray accompany me to the cabin where I shall settle thee for now. This house has much space, but we shall soon be blessed with another six souls and they shall abide hither 'til their own dwellings are built."
The young woman had risen at Norðr-vestandóttir's entrance, and taking her cue from Frár, offered a bow and nodded, saying, "t'would be my pleasure, m'lady."
At that moment, Sumor returned with Egill in tow.
"Pray bring thy bags, Böðvildr. Egill is our stable master and shall attend thy horse," Norðr-vestandóttir said, prompting a quick expression of surprise from the young ferrière.
Egill was then still fifteen years of age, but already cared for 'nigh forty horses.
Now the two women took their leave of Ierþling's house, and after Böðvildr collected her saddlebags and sword, Egill took her mare's reins and led her to the stables. Norðr-vestandóttir and Böðvildr walked the short way 'cross the yard to the cabin. There they took seats at the table before the hearth where lay a map of the farm upon which Norðr-vestandóttir and Ierþling had set some stones to mark possible home sites for the coming farmers.
The young smith's eyes had roved o'er the interior, warm and homey, but with 'naught unknown or supernatural to be seen. The herbs hanging 'nigh the hearth were familiar. The space was lit with candles and oil lamps, not Álfr¹ lights. If 'aught was unexpected, 'twas that one living alone claimed so much space. The cabin was larger than the home her family had shared in Nýr Vera and seemed palatial to her eyes, the more so that, save for the pantry, 'twas a single open room. ¹(Álfr, Elf Old Norse)
Norðr-vestandóttir brought them both cups of hot tea, bread, cheese, and bowls of oatmeal with honey to snack on. Then they set to work, and the young smith was impressed by how willing the mistress of the farm was to receive her counsel, for despite their apparent age difference of five or six years, she knew it to be more rightly a half-century.
Böðvildr spoke of what was required as a minimum to build a functional smithy, but also gave options and reasons for additions of structure and capacity, and finally, she spoke of some ideas she had been long refining in her mind's eye. They spent the remainder of the morn at this task, with notes and sketches made and added to a growing pile. In the end, they would build a forge the like of which would astound the older smiths of Nýr Vera, for living 'nigh a river, they counted options unexplored aforetime in that craft. And for those innovations, they would have the indispensable aid of a specialist in water power, the mylnweard who lived just downstream.
Spring of 1902 opened. Böðvildr, Norðr-vestandóttir, and Kátmaðr went to the river bank and chose a site for the smithy, based on the requirements for placement of a waterwheel. With Eadmundr, they marked off the position and size of the building and paced out the positions of the supporting posts. The soldiers would assist in the construction, along with sawyers, carpenters, and masons from the village, with counsel from the mylnweard on how best to harness the power of the river.
Also during that time just ere the thaw, the half-dozen additional farmers arrived at Norðr-vestandóttir Bý. The group was comprised of a middle-aged Man, once one of four who had met the soldiers from Nýr Vera whilst out cutting wood, a widow in her fifties, and a family of four, husband, wife, and two teenage sons, who had lived in the first home entered by the rebels in the East Bight. A couple days after they had come, they aided in the preparation of the fields for the spring planting.
As that season progressed, the fields were cultivated and seeded, the gardens sprouted, the bees wakened, and the foundation of the smithy began to rise. Lambing began and leaves appeared on the nut trees. In the fourth month, a sturdy wall with a low pillar had been set amidst the current two fathoms from the river's bank, and that had been sheared even and faced with stone, leaving a narrow channel through which water accelerated and flowed more deeply than o'er the adjacent natural stream bed. That flow was controlled by raising or lowering a sluice gate at the channel's entrance. Ashore, a low, thick wall of stone was set at right angles to the bank, and 'cross it spanning the new channel to the pillar on the wall in the river, the axel of a waterwheel was set.
Early in the fifth month, with the planting done, the farmers were able to hasten the construction of their new homes, a four-room cabin for the family, and two attached apartments for the single Man and widow. These rose quickly with so many hands laboring at the task, and much effort and material was conserved by building a single chimney with hearths facing back and front at the bottom. Thus both cabin and apartments shared a chimney 'twixt three adjacent fireplaces.
Now the waterwheel was completed in that time, and a wooden gear placed on the end of the drive shaft ashore. There, by an arrangement of levers, shafts, cams, and gears, the water wheel could power both the bellows for a bloomery furnace, and a helve hammer for forging. Yet ere any of this could be finalized, many parts were needed. Those of wood could be made with the labor and skills already on the farm, but those of wrought iron could not, and t'would be hard to forge them in place without an anvil, hearth, or tongs to work with. The sixth month of the year was upon her and she hoped to finish building her forge ere year's end. So Böðvildr took many measurements for those pieces needed to make her smithy workable in order to forge the rest, and then, with one of the newcome farmer's sons to aid her, loaded up a wagon with trade goods and returned to Nýr Vera to speak with her father about renting the use of his forge.
During her absence, the farm continued in its accustomed cycle. Fruit and vegetables were harvested and preserved. Honey was taken from the hives. Calves and foals were born. Norðr-vestandóttir eyed the ripening summer wheat and conferred with Ierþling on a starting date for the harvest. Yet soon, more dire concerns would take precedence, even if for but a short while, for 'cross the great river there was much upheaval.
By Cerveth of 1902, the fear amongst the Yrch had been growing for o'er half a century in the dark places 'neath the Hithaeglir. From the High Pass down to the headwaters of the Ninglor, not a single warren or lair still held a living Orch. They had been rendered to death by a terrifying foe that slaughtered all and left none alive. Rumors whispered that one of Sauron's Nine had turned against them, but none they knew had lived to bear witness 'yea' or 'nay'. 'Twas certainly no Man, for they could see but poorly in the dark, and 'twas no Dwarf, for none of that folk were so fell.
Whate'er kindred this scourge hailed from, it invaded caves and lairs and no place was safe. Their enemy was possessed of an unappeasable bloodlust far beyond 'aught that the Glam had met aforetime, and as had the small band in 1871, a larger company now chose to flee their caves and take their chances in the wider world.
"Skai! Kohkaf, agh gijakudob mabas¹," Captain Konshati² warned his nervous rabble one summer night. His words were followed by muttering and grumbling, but no challenges or calls for sedition. ¹(Kohkaf, agh gijakudob mabas, Time pass(es), andbloodshed after(follows) Orkish) ²(Konshati, Dog spear Orkish)
He looked the company o'er as they shifted and glanced 'twixt themselves, unsure of what was to come. Konshati nodded to himself, seeing that they would turn on each other or sell each other out if he made accusations of treachery. It meant his authority was still acknowledged.
"Nar jishotasaun votar kurth, nadal agh mat katu¹," he told them. "Rend naratmat²." ¹(Narjishotasaun votar kurth, nadal agh mat katu, No secret home trap, stop and die here(Everyone knows home is a trap, if we stay, we die here) Orkish) ²(Rend naratmat, Run to not die(We leave to stay alive) Orkish)
'Round him he saw the looks of fear and more slowly, the nodding of heads in agreement. He would lead and they would follow, and just as much as they, he had no desire to confront what hunted them…he greatly preferred to be the hunter.
Perhaps they would find refuge in the forest of Mirkwood, perhaps not, yet they deemed the chance worth taking for to stay was to die, 'twas just a matter of time. And so they hastened down the river the next night, sixty strong, cursing the sun, the moon, the Nazgûl, Men, Elves, Dwarves, and well 'nigh e'erything else, and as had their predecessors two decades aforetime, they built rafts amidst the Loeg Ningloron and passed o'er Anduin. Having changed little in that time, Anduin delivered them to the same mouth of the stream that flowed past Nýr Vera.
In the last of the night they came ashore, soaked and sour of mood, and they took cover amongst the trees that grew 'nigh the riverbank, there to wait out the accursed day. Already they had marked the scent of smoke, and more appealing, the scent of animals and man flesh. With their numbers, they feared little, and so they grudgingly awaited the following night and a great feast with sport and slaughter. It seemed all their desires would be met shortly after taking leave of the mountains, and they thought better of their captain for having scared them to flight. After a few days of festivities, they would make their way to the forest wherein the trees would keep the sun at bay.
To Konshati and his company, the day lasted far too long and the night was slow to come. Even in the deepest shadows of the wood, the Yrch buried their heads 'neath their cloaks, and some crawled amongst fallen trunks and branches to seek refuge amidst the bracken and leaf mold. Ere evening they were thirsty, hungry, and greatly discomfited. Little camaraderie did they feel, and they deemed they shared 'naught with any other save their low morale. The captain groaned and shook his head. The only sure distraction would be slaughter, and the sooner the better ere meanness and grudges brought them to knifing each other o'er a harsh word or a sidelong glance.
Anor had barely fled the sky when he rousted them and browbeat them into marching from the wood. Yet with evening had come the smoke of cook fires as the Men of Nýr Vera congregated for their suppers, and e'ery Orch could smell the promise of the coming feast. Soon they were salivating and thinking of tortures and mutilations, impaling and spit roasting their victims alive, and the serenade of their screams. His company waxed enthusiastic again, and he led them forth from 'neath the trees, 'cross fields whose tall grain gave them cover, and through pastures where they would slash a cow or sheep to inflict pain, simply because they could.
The spirits of the Yrch were high when they finally came in sight of the palisade surrounding the settlement, and they were honestly shocked at the size of the place. The tight-spaced upright logs stood double man high, with watchtowers at intervals that would leave them easily marked ere they could approach close enough for their few archers to loose their black fletched arrows. The best-sighted amongst them counted the archers manning the towers; too many for comfort. It gave Konshati pause and he halted his companions and regarded the lands 'round the fortress of the Northmen with a cunning glance.
There were a couple dozen cabins and homes outside the walls, standing amidst fields and pastures where the more isolated farmers and herders dwelt beyond the stockade. After two decades of peace, they had become trusting and complacent. Konshati grinned, and with a cant of his head, the company withdrew to approach the unprotected dwellings that offered much more favorable odds of success.
"Always best to slit a victim's underbelly whilst they doze," he said, and his troops chuckled or grunted in agreement whilst fingering their blades. "Tonight we feast on babies and virgins."
"Vrasubatburuk ug butharubatgruiuk¹!" One of his most enthusiastic followers chortled, a hope seconded by many cackles of anticipation. ¹(Vrasubatburuk ug butharubatgruiuk, We will kill all the men and sodomize all the women! Orkish)
The Yrch trotted to the most distant farmhouse, hard-pressed to maintain their silence as they looked forward to their sport with growing glee. Warm light flowed from the windows and the scent of cooking food came from the chimney. They broke down the door with no warning and dozens poured into a room were a family of five were enjoying their supper.
It took only moments to cut the hands from the farmer's wrists, ere a blow from the butt of a sword dropped him to the floor, dazed and bleeding. A son of seventeen years they shot through the shoulder with an arrow and left pinned to a wall moaning in pain. Swift kicks threw the mother and two daughters from their chairs onto the floor where they cowered, crying and pleading for mercy. The Yrch descended upon them with glee, creatures born of nightmares to the simple farm family who had the ill fortune of dwelling furthest from Nýr Vera.
Unspeakable were the acts done upon the three women as their Men struggled, cried out, and impotently threatened. Despite the infliction of many wounds, the father and son were the last to die. The sixty Yrch mobbed the three women and sodomy was 'nigh the least of the desecrations inflicted upon them. The daughters lost their minds and lay dull-eyed and staring vacantly from the floor as the Yrch enjoyed their flesh three and four at a time ere beginning to feast. Konshati started eating the mother's face as his hips viciously thrust whilst lying atop her, 'til she finally ceased her screaming and her breath came in gurgles as her blood pumped forth. His company cheered him on, stamping and clapping to the tempo of his pelvis even after the life had left her. The father they pinioned 'neath many hands and flayed alive. His son lived long enough to see his own arms roasting on the hearth grate, and finally the suffering ended and silence ruled. The Yrch spent another hour as guests in the farmhouse, remorselessly eating their fill.
They came forth from that charnel house sated of hunger, but not of lust. Carnality and mayhem visited the next farmhouse with them. There an elderly couple were hamstrung and left to watch the abhorrent treatment of their pre-teen grandson and granddaughter. Ringed by a terrifying circle of cheering goblins, the young people were stripped and forced to mate against all proscription, but when they tearfully refused to mutilate each other with glowing coals, the Yrch lost patience and neutered them both ere slaying all four. A bit of snacking followed, just to fill in the empty spaces left by their earlier feast.
Now the slaughter continued from house to house through the first half of that night, and whilst the watchmen in the towers saw 'naught worthy of report in the countryside, the Yrch enjoyed their visits to a half-dozen homes. Their depravity had but increased now that their hunger was sated, and they drew out the torment of their victims with savage artistry.
The midnight hour came and the invaders reached a seventh farmhouse. Three only lived in that home, Valfǫðr¹ a father retired to farming after losing an eye during a lifetime as a warrior, and his two sons, ƥórr and Loki² neither of whom was considered 'normal', and both of whom were regarded as uncommonly warlike, even by the standards of the Northmen. Having proved themselves berserkers, ungovernable within a chain of command, Captain Hrólfr had been forced to decline their service as riders, though they were welcomed as skirmishers afoot. ¹(Valfǫðr, Valfothr, Father of the Slain, an epithet of Odin Old Norse) ²(ƥórr and Loki, Thor and Loki, the Norse gods of thunder and trickery Old Norse)
On that late night, Valfǫðr had been relaxing after supper with an o'ersized mug of mead, whilst ƥórr and Loki had been relaxing by wrestling as they were wont to do. When the Yrch burst through the door, the sons were in the middle of the room and quickly turned towards the invaders. Seeing weapons, they howled challenges and charged at the Orcs.
Shocked at their reception, the first through the door was met with a kick to the chest so forceful that it snapped his ribs. By the time the second recovered himself and raised his sword, Loki had seized a single seat bench and blocked his stroke so that the blade stuck in the wooden seat. He spun 'round, twisting the sword from the Orch's hand and then braining him with the end of the bench as he completed his turn. With a shout, Loki flung the bench at the next Orch who was standing in the doorway. He barely managed to deflect it ere ƥórr slammed the door in his face and kicked it closed for good measure as it rebounded. In the meantime, Valfǫðr had shaken off the haze of his mead and snatched his axe from its place o'er the mantle. In the few moments following the repulsion of the initial attack, the two sons armed themselves as well.
Rather than awaiting the Yrch whilst cowering in a closed room, ƥórr ripped the door open from the next Orch's hands and the three charged out into their front yard, brandishing weapons and screaming battle cries that were heard two furlongs away by the sentries in the watchtowers 'nigh the west gate of Nýr Vera. These were first inclined to ignore the ruckus as typical hooliganism, but then the clash of weapons gave them pause. 'Twas only the hooting and shrieking of the Yrch as they met the trio's attack that shocked them to action. They were actually being invaded!
With shouts of alarm and the ringing of an iron bell, the sentries raised the village. A dozen riders were always stationed at the ready within the gate, and these charged out of the stockade within minutes of the alarm. They galloped towards Valfǫðr's farm and arrived a minute after clearing the palisade. There they found the father and his two sons ringed by jeering foes, all three bearing wounds, but far from disabled. Konshati had barely the time 'twixt hearing the beat of hooves and breaking off a company of two dozens to meet the horsemen ere the riders slammed through the gaggle of Yrch standing in the road. They planted spears in bodies and drew secondary weapons, smiting any within reach from horseback. The two archers in the company shot any foes they could, whilst ƥórr and Loki alternately denigrated their foes, and upbraided the riders for remaining mounted rather than dismounting to fight enemies afoot.
After another few minutes of battle, a greater mounted company was seen and heard charging from the gate to reinforce the first dozen horsemen. The Yrch on the road were holding their own against the surviving riders, but the odds were soon to change.
"Looks like the fun part is o'er," Konshati cried out. "Now we spill blood and take scalps."
With hooting cries and unearthly shrieks, half his remaining company charged forward against the riders. Konshati urged them on and watched them go. He turned to those who clove most closely to him and said, "to the fields, boys, let us live to feast another night."
With two dozens following, the captain slipped away into the night darkened fields heading south. They were soon lost to sight amidst the tall grain. Behind him, the newcome horsemen slammed into those he had left behind, whilst Valfǫðr, ƥórr, and Loki jeered, too excited by the mayhem to mark the cuts seeping blood or the few arrows stuck in their arms and torsos. As the battle wound down, they gave great wolf howls and congratulated each other with boasts and recollections of their kills.
To Be Continued