History of Beauty

by Meraki P. Lyhne

  He should be focusing on Earl Gunhild.

  “May he be told what has happened?”

  Back to thoughts about the wounded man. “Yes. I don’t imagine we can keep it from him in a House with so many people talking, and I would rather it came from you, someone who knows me and my intentions well.”

  She nodded. “I shall take good care of him.” She began washing Elakdon’s face, cutting off any possibilities of replying to her statement.

  Elakdon returned to the longtable, taking his seat. Food and drinks had been distributed, and Elakdon accepted a bowl of broth and bread even though he had no appetite. He even stood to grab a piece of meat from the bowl on the table because he knew he needed to eat. The fire dancing over his skin meant he needed to feed, too, yet Gunhild needed his attention.

  “I hear stories, King,” Gunhild said, licking her fingers. She then grabbed another hunk of meat.

  “Then I hope the one who told it knows me well.”

  “I think I do,” Father said, grinning. Gunhild grinned, too, sending Father a look of infatuation. Oh! Elakdon had overlooked an important ally in keeping the shieldmaiden comfortable. She had taken to Father’s charm. Gratitude for his Lokil-Nol rose.

  “I see, and I think I should be embarrassed then, considering he remembers my childhood so well.”

  Gunhild laughed. “Don’t worry, King, we have not gotten that far.”

  Elakdon glanced around, finding weapons hanging on the posts as before the brawl. “I see you trust my hospitality, Earl, even after this unfortunate first impression.”

  “Oh, it was not unfortunate, King.”

  “I feel shame that I brought him to your Hall,” Trygve said. “He was not like that the last time we met. Back then, he was…a man of vision.”

  Gullible. That’s what Bo had called Earl Trygve. Maybe he’d only seen what he wanted at the time like he only saw what he wanted with Malte.

  “I have seen men change in a short time,” Elakdon said. “If it has been a long time since you last saw him, then I don’t blame you, friend.”

  “I have told Gunhild about the respect and honor you brought to my Hall the first time I met you. Now I know how steadfast you are.”

  “And so do I,” Gunhild said. “I don’t know a lot about your people. I hope to learn.”

  “I do, too. You may come here freely as we wait for the time to depart for Ting.”

  Her gaze cut to Father, and Elakdon noticed his eyes darken.

  “We have laws regarding sex, though, and I would like the opportunity for one of my people to tell your companions about them.”

  “I shall gladly take that task, Nol,” Father said.

  “Thank you, Lokil-Nol,” Elakdon said, pleased at seeing Father’s reaction to being called by title. He had certainly earned it many times over.

  Elakdon tiptoed through the Hall to where a Guard sat awake and watched him come closer.

  “Nol,” he whispered.

  “How is he?”

  “He has a fever. Your mother and Madin are taking turns tending to him to keep it down.”

  Elakdon took a seat on the edge of the bed and gently put a hand on Randr’s arm. The wounded man groaned in response and twitched, apparently in a lot of pain. Having just lost an eye to a sword, Elakdon would be, too.

  “Has he spoken other than what Madin has told me?”

  “As the fever rose, he has rambled.”

  “About what? Family?”

  “No. I have asked, but he shook his head and said that…the closest he’d ever come to a brother has died on a sword.” The Guard Lord drew a deep sigh. “I think he said his sword.”

  “So Earl Knud.” Elakdon wondered if the brave man would make it. “Who Guards the four?”

  “We take turns.”

  Elakdon kept looking at Randr and the moss covering his eye.

  “You should know, Nol, that I have overheard older Cubi who remembers the old King of North. They have expressed pleasure at finding their new King to be one who holds honor above all else as he did.”

  “Did you know him?”

  “I was his Fountain. He picked me out of the ranks as a Youngling brawling. Back then, we had a hierarchy of our own. One before the Empowerment.”

  “And you were the top dog?”

  “No. I was too tempered for that, and that was what caught the King’s eye. I have never acted upon rage, and I have never felt the need to further myself at the expense of another. But when I was challenged, I would go all in and respect my opponent when I lost.”

  “When I grew up, I was sad that I was not the material of a warrior. Those traits are valued after all. My…Foldon has helped me put it into perspective for me. And then I was empowered King…”

  “And?” the Guard asked. “I can see that a deep thought remained unspoken.”

  “Every warrior will seek the halls of Valhalla, but that does not mean that Valhalla is the only goal. Peace is a goal, too, yet peace can only come about when good men are willing to do unspeakable things.”

  “Like taking ears and noses?”

  Elakdon snorted, nodding. “You prove a thought I’ve had. Yes, my Kingdom will need warriors, but those not cut out to be aren’t failures. They have other important values to add to the Kingdom. Our race needs hope, too, and who spreads that better than those raising Cubs?”

  The Guard smiled lovingly. “I will soon be a father, so your comment gives me hope, too.”

  “When?”

  “Spring.”

  Elakdon sat back, smiling. “Then, my sibling and your child will grow up together. We shall make them a grand future.”

  The Guard Lord stood, then knelt and bowed his head.

  Elakdon had been a Royal for only a few months, yet an act like that still frightened him as much as it warmed his heart. It kept reminding him of his responsibility, yet with support like that, he felt strong and capable because he was not alone. He never could be with an entire people he had to grow close to.

  “I look forward to presenting my Cub to you.”

  “I look forward to meeting your Cub.” But Elakdon also knew that the responsibility usually befalling the High Father would befall him now. In any human household, a Father would determine the fate of a child born. Lap-sitting. Witnesses would be invited, and the child would be placed on its father’s lap. If the child was sick or deformed, it would be put out to die. In a Cubi House, that verdict befell High Father or Mother. In the Royal’s House, it befell the Royal.

  He remembered Father having sent out a child. He remembered Father being very seclusive for a few days after, too. Why would a man like Earl Knud hoard power to a point where he bought it when decisions like that and worse would be his, too? He didn’t understand it. Maybe it was what had broken him?

  His thoughts were interrupted as his mom put her hand on his shoulder.

  “Go to bed, Ela, and leave him to heal. I will come and get you once his fever breaks.”

  “Do you think it will?”

  “Odin saw his fearless battle. I’m sure he will battle his way through this challenge, too.”

  Elakdon smiled. He rose, kissed his mother, then turned to the Guard. “Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me.”

  “My Prince.” He bowed his head, then retook his seat.

  Elakdon dashed from the Hall and out into the cold night. He then set his course for the grave of Earl Knud. Elakdon dug where he was sure he’d placed the ears and nose, feeling his way through the cold soil until what he grabbed no longer fell apart between his fingers. The moon stood high and full on the sky, allowing him to see the outlines of what he dug free. And he had his ears and nose. He then set course for the offer grove. He didn’t even care that he felt cold as he stopped by the distinguishable horse’s head, mounted at the edge of the grove.

  “Odin! Randr called for you to see him! To see how he was willing to stand up for what he believes in, even if he stood alone! Against a man as close as a brother! Y
ou challenge him still, I see that, but let my offering show that we are more who are willing to aid him. We are more who recognizes his bravery. Honor for honor. I took what they tried to take from him.” Elakdon held up the ears and nose, then tossed them into the grove. “I need him. I need his knowledge. For that, I need him to be well.”

  Two ravens squawked and took flight, and Elakdon smiled as Hugin and Munin took his message to Odin. He then returned to the Hall, noticing the long shadows cast by nothing in the moonlight.

  He would never be alone again even when his Guards gave him privacy to talk to the gods. Happily, he didn’t mind.

  Of the three men who lost an ear, one succumbed to the fever and died within four days. The other two healed better. The man who had the opportunity to regain his honor tended to them, but he kept to himself. That was the reports Elakdon got from the Guards, anyway.

  It also took four days before Randr showed improvement, and Elakdon spent that time getting better acquainted with the shieldmaiden Gunhild. She, in turn, grew quite fond of the little Succubus who thought the world of the Earl. And she grew quite fond of High Father, too.

  Elakdon enjoyed spending time with them. Gunhild was a strong woman whose laughter was contagious. Whenever she laughed, people smiled in the rest of the Hall.

  Styrk came over and handed Elakdon a large carving of the Untouchable mark. “For Sune.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I saw him dash out back a moment ago. Do you want me to go give it to him?”

  “If you don’t mind.”

  Styrk winked, took the broach, and left.

  “Nol-Elakdon, Randr is awake,” the Guard from the other night said.

  Elakdon got up and went to the bed that had been sealed off by skins and blankets to give him peace. Windin perched on the edge of the bed, washing the gap in his cheek.

  “Hi.” Elakdon perched on the opposite side of the bed and looked at the scar. Big and red, meaning it was clean.

  “Hello, King. I look like Odin now, except I didn’t give my eye for wisdom.”

  “No, but I think honor is equally respectable to give to.”

  A smile tugged on the unharmed side of his face. “I have heard a rumor of the Earl’s death and shameful burial.”

  “Yes.”

  Sadness took over Randr’s features.

  “I heard that you knew him well for many years.”

  “He did things worthy of being remembered, too. Once I was proud to stand by him, but then…”

  Elakdon put his hand on Randr’s. “I’m sorry.”

  “What of his companions?”

  “One is dead. He succumbed to the fever,” Elakdon said, liking the fact that Randr didn’t say my companions.

  “Which one? Ole?”

  “Uhm…I haven’t asked their names. I was too angry with them and still am.”

  Randr merely nodded. “Three of them I have only known for months. One was someone we grew up with. A simple man, but…he has a very good memory, which is why Knud had him with him all the time. He remembers every conversation.”

  “Ole?” Elakdon asked. “I shall go see which one has died.” Elakdon stood, then sat again. “By the way, you’re the Earl now.”

  “I have no interest in that kind of power. I don’t have the vision to be one.”

  “Maybe not. But you have the humility to listen. That’s a necessary trait when the good of all is what must be in focus.”

  “But I will have to make decisions I don’t want to keep me up at night. I will not take that position. I work to make visions come true. I don’t make the decisions about which ones. I’m not that strong.”

  Elakdon nodded, wondering what would happen to the area he was from then. “Are there Cubi where you live?”

  “No. They uprooted and moved east fifteen years ago.”

  Meaning Elakdon had no reason to think further of it. “I will return shortly.”

  He left Randr’s bedside and went around the Hall to where the three surviving were being kept with the farm animals. A Guard sat by a fire and whittled away on a long stick.

  “Nol.” He stood and opened the door, preceding Elakdon inside.

  The three men sat huddled together.

  “Which one of you is Ole?”

  “I am,” the man with his ears intact said.

  “Come with me.” Elakdon left, followed by the man and the Guard. Dendon stood outside, waiting, and he silently followed them as Elakdon took Ole to Randr’s bed.

  Randr struggled to sit up when he saw Ole, most likely because of his chopped hair and beard. “What happened to you?”

  “The King made me your thrall.”

  “Mine?”

  “The new Earl,” Ole said.

  Randr looked at Elakdon.

  “He can earn his freedom,” Elakdon said. “The ones who attacked you because you won a fair battle cannot.”

  “I am not the new Earl, and I will not have my friend a thrall to me.”

  Elakdon thought it all through. The man had ended up in the bad company of the three, and he’d been treated like them. Almost. Did Elakdon admit to himself that he had acted a bit hasty regarding Ole’s fate? Yes, but he hoped what decision he made next would teach the man to select more carefully the men he chose to give power by not acting.

  “Only one stood firm,” Elakdon said, looking at Ole. “May his sacrifice teach you to question those you choose to stand by.”

  Ole nodded, looking down in shame.

  “For the duration of Randr’s stay here, while he heals, you will remain a thrall in the eyes of this House. You will serve here, your focus being on aiding a man who speaks for your freedom.” Elakdon motioned for Randr. “What happens after that will be discussed when Randr is well again. Do not abuse my hospitality again. Show us that you can be trusted with the freedom to move among us instead of being locked away with the others as they are now.”

  “Yes, King,” Ole said.

  Elakdon looked at the man more closely. He wasn’t unattractive. “No Cubus may feed on him or the others.”

  “Yes, Nol,” Windin said. “I will pass it along to Father.” She stood. “Ole, come with me to take food to Randr.”

  The man followed her, and Randr looked at his friend’s back as he left. He then looked at Elakdon, sorrow still clouding his one eye.

  Elakdon took a seat in the foot end of the bed. “I knew very little of any of you. We didn’t have the time.”

  “I do not question your decision, King.”

  “Yes, you do, but you don’t speak them out loud.”

  “The three left are Bjørk, Eivind, and Hejle. All three are from our village. I know Hejle was thrown out of his old village. A wanderer told us. He warned against trusting him, but his tongue is as skilled as Loke’s. Eivind is the brother of Bjørk. They are stubborn and brawl for the fun of it. They are greedy enough to steal.”

  “Their actions pulled Ole down with them. One hit me, so I didn’t have time to count when I was trying to stop them from attacking you.”

  Randr chuckled. “A King coming to my aid. A son of the gods. Was it my willingness to stand for you that earns me this kindness now?”

  “Yes. Plus, I saw on your shield that you have us on it. And a female name.”

  “My sister. I put those I will protect at all cost on there.” He shook his head. “My Earl was on there, too.”

  “His name?”

  “No, our village flag.”

  “So your village, represented by your Earl?”

  Randr looked up. “He drew it. It represented his vision. He drew it in the sand the night he asked me to help him take down the old Earl.”

  “Had you sworn your allegiance to the old Earl, too?”

  “Yes, and like Knud, he grew unworthy of trust, as he would break a promise to one man to get power from another. Maybe we displeased the Vætter of our village with our initial betrayal, and they won’t allow an Earl to not be corrupted?”

  �
�Is that why you won’t become Earl? Because you fear to become like Knud?”

  “That, too. You are a clever King. Judging by the color of the magic in your eyes, you are fortunate to have many lifetimes of experience more than I.”

  “No, Randr, I am only twenty-two winters old. But I am immediately surrounded by wise men and women who take it upon themselves to teach me all they know, and they stand at the ready with advice every time I need it. That is how a Royal rises with us.”

  “So young? Does the burden of it all not weigh you down sometimes?”

  “Yes. At this very moment, in fact. But what I’m trying to tell you is that you should not fear power, you should fear not having the right people around you to govern said power.”

  “Twenty-two,” Randr mumbled to himself. “May your people never know how power can corrupt one person.”

  Well, it certainly sounded like Randr didn’t hold a lot of confidence in Elakdon now that he knew his age. “Me, too. And that’s why I don’t keep the people I made thralls. Except for the one who hit me, I’d like to buy him from you.”

  “No. You took their freedom. You keep them. Let them always remind you of your power. It should be easy the way you marked them.”

  And just like that, his tone made Elakdon feel like shit for what he’d done.

  Ole returned with a bowl and went to sit on the other side of the bed. His stomach growled.

  Randr moved his right arm, and Elakdon noticed it had been splinted. It was broken and useless to him.

  “Ole, go eat.” Elakdon reached to take the food from him. “Then ask the Guard who took you in here to follow you as you take food to the others.”

  “Yes, King.” Ole handed over the food that Elakdon then placed on the stoop next to him.

  “Your arm, your eye…what did they not tell me?”

  Randr lifted the covers, revealing half his hairy chest being covered in a bandage, puffed out by moss. His right hand, used to lift the covers, was in a bandage, too, and Elakdon pointed. “I will keep those fingers according to Windin. But the blade dented even my bones.”

  “May I feed you?”

  Randr looked surprised. “Does a King not have more important tasks than to feed a human broth and bread?”