And again the feeling was back, and again Astrid was completely unsure of how to react. It was such an alien feeling to her, something she had always craved but was never prepared to receive. How was it that something that came so naturally to other people felt so abnormal to her?
I am abnormal! Always will be!
‘You can finish it,’ Astrid said, getting to her feet and tossing the half gutted rabbit to Skad, its entrails spilling out onto him. ‘About time you did something useful.’
Leaving the camp, Astrid walked away slowly, reaching up to her left ear out of habit, her hair and the wolf-skin hiding it.
‘Astrid?’ Knud’s voice said behind her, his voice quiet and worried.
‘Not now Knud. No more questions for the moment.’
‘I wasn’t going to ask any questions. I just wanted to know if you were ok.’
Smiling, Astrid turned to look at him. His skin looked so much paler in the moonlight, which had managed to squeeze past the thousands of leaves above them.
‘I’m ok, Knud.’
‘Knud!’ Jarl’s voice called, and Astrid looked up, startled to see him walking towards them.
He thinks something’s not right about me! He thinks I’m not normal!
‘Knud. Go and stop Skad from cooking. I’d like to not eat ash if I can,’ he said.
Knud strolled back to the camp, and Jarl turned to face Astrid, not entirely sure what he wanted to say, just knowing he wanted to say something.
‘He won’t be able to travel. He’ll have to stay at the Salt Monasteries.’
‘I know,’ Astrid replied, almost laughing under her veil. An uncomfortable silence ensued as neither of them could find the words to say anything more. Astrid wasn’t sure why her stomach was winding itself into knots.
Jarl finally spoke. ‘Your hand...’
‘It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt as much now,’ Astrid said, looking down at it and flexing her wrist as if to prove her point. The skin was still burnt and scabs covered most of it. Her veil hid any expression that might have said otherwise. ‘The monks can help me when I get there. They’ve seen worse!’ She laughed and Jarl smiled at the sound.
She has a beautiful laugh! he thought to himself, turning to walk back to the camp and hearing Skad arguing with Knud about who was taking charge of the cooking.
‘Knud’s cooking,’ Jarl said firmly, reaching the fire and yanking the rabbit from Skad’s hands. ‘Knud, don’t burn it.’
The Salt Monasteries
The relief they felt when they finally saw the Salt Monasteries in the distance was almost indescribable. Images of warm food, soft beds, and far more importantly, toilets that didn’t involve a bush and a shovel, flashed across their minds.
They had been hiking up the many winding paths leading to the Salt Monasteries for three days, the air gradually thinning as they climbed. Jarl was surprised at the lack of oxygen, and how tired it had made him feel, assuming that being from Bjargtre he would be used to it. But as he had soon found out, the Hiddari part of the Riddari Mountains were considerably higher than the Riddari Hǫfuð where Bjargtre was built. The mountains here stretched up at least three times higher into the sky. On the third day they had even woken to see clouds forming further down the mountain. The sunrise was truly magnificent from so high up, the sky a burst of red, yellow and orange flames, the light shimmering on the backs of the pure white clouds.
Thankfully, it was not snowing, though the wind was bitterly cold. At night it cut like razors on any exposed skin. The rocky terrain made for some very uncomfortable sleeping and Jarl’s back was ready to cause him a great deal of permanent discomfort if he didn’t find a more level surface to sleep on soon.
Astrid seemed to be the only one who slept just fine. In fact, now that Jarl thought about it, he couldn’t remember ever having seen her actually sleep. Astrid was always up and alert at all times: tending the fire, collecting wood, or searching the perimeter.
‘I know you say I’m too young, but can I have some ale when I get there?’ Knud begged, his feet sore and tiredness cutting down the already small filter between his mouth and his brain.
‘Ale!’ Skad laughed. ‘You want to have Daru wine if you’re at the Salt Monasteries. They’re famous for it.’
In front of them, Astrid rolled her head from side to side, the stiff vertebrae in her neck clicking back into place loudly. Skad instantly recognised it as a way of her restraining any physical signs of her frustration. She had done it many, many times during the years he had trained her, and even now, thirty years later, he still remembered.
‘He’s not having wine,’ Jarl said firmly, and Knud’s face dropped.
‘Please! I’ll only have one!’ he begged, running up next to Jarl and trying to skip alongside to annoy him, hoping it would convince him to let him have a drink. It didn’t work. Astrid laughed at the expression on his face as Jarl said no again.
* * *
Reaching the large wooden doors of the monastery, Astrid pulled at the large hand-shaped, rusted metal knockers. The huge, heavy doors opened after a few moments and a tall human walked out. Astrid smiled under her veil as she recognized him. The monk was a good foot taller than her and had to bend down to hug her.
‘Erin!’ He laughed, stepping back to look at her. ‘Well...I would say you’ve grown but we know that isn’t true!’ He laughed again and Astrid beamed at him and bounced on the balls of her feet.
‘Will you let a few weary travellers stay the night?’ she asked, her eyes shining, happy to see her old friend again.
‘No, I’ll turn them away!’ the monk said jokingly. ‘Of course!’ he said, and took her hand and led her through the door, the others following behind. Halvard and Jarl were shocked to see her behaving so differently, bouncing up and down like a child.
Walking inside, they saw a large bricked courtyard, the tiles on the ground a deep terracotta red, the walls painted pure white. The pillars that held up the balcony around the courtyard were made with both red and white bricks, which had been laid to create a beautiful spiral pattern. Almost everything around them was a striking contrast of the two colours. Several monks and travellers sat in the centre of the courtyard, absorbing the little warmth the sunlight offered so high up in the mountains.
‘If your friends would like to follow my brother, he’ll take them to the hot springs,’ the monk said, gesturing to one of the other monks nearby. Knud practically ran up to him at the mention of it. Skad and Halvard followed him with a little less obvious enthusiasm, and Jarl held back for a moment.
‘How long will we be staying?’ Jarl asked Astrid, waiting for her to walk with him and the others.
‘A week,’ the monk said firmly, and Jarl glared at him. I was asking Astrid! he thought.
‘A week,’ Astrid repeated. ‘We all need to rest,’ she said calmly, turning and walking off with the monk. Jarl was shocked to see her leaning her head against him as they strolled away, the monk moving his arm around her fondly like she was a little child.
‘It’s good to have you back, Erin!’ he said.
‘It’s good to be back!’ Astrid replied, smiling.
* * *
Breathing a deep contented sigh, Astrid stepped down into the hot spring bath, still wearing her clothes, her wolf-skin and shoes neatly placed by the wall. The gentle current that flowed from one end of the bath to the other washed away the dirt and mud that had collected on her clothes. She leant back and let herself float on the surface of the water.
There was something about this side of the Riddari, and the bitter cold which always found its way into her joints. The Red Mountains, when she had been with Dag, had been cold during the winters, but it had never been a cold which settled into the marrow. And along the Riddari, even in the summer the cold would wait till the dark of night to freeze any travellers to their core, making the journey all the more uncomfortable. That, along with the incessant drizzle that came and went like the wind, made it without a doubt her leas
t favourite place to travel through.
After removing her veil, Astrid submerged her head below the water and opened her eyes. Small bubbles drifted past her in the flow of the water. She reached behind her and began to undo the long plait of hair wrapped around her head, removing the four, needle-like steel sticks pinning it in place. Her long black hair drifted around her like seaweed, the ends of it almost reaching the backs of her knees.
Hearing someone walking outside the door, and a gentle knock, Astrid lifted her head above the surface.
‘Yes?’
‘Erin, the Abbot would like you to come sit with him when you’re done. You have to tell us all about your adventures!’
‘I will!’ Astrid laughed, and waited for him to leave before dipping her head back under the water and tucking her hair behind her ears. Her left ear was visible, the tip of it gone, cut away by a serrated blade. The edge was still rough and angry, still sore even after so many years.
Running her finger over it, Astrid opened her eyes beneath the water, trying to distract herself by observing how the light looked through the water. The salt lamps on the walls gave off a fire-like glow. The steam from the bath dissolved the salt and made it trickle down the walls onto the floor, and eventually into the water. Astrid could taste it.
It’s good to be back! she whispered, lifting her head out of the water.
It was good to be Erin once again.
* * *
The clothes were new, she could tell; the fabric too stiff and making her feel uncomfortable. She didn’t like new clothes, they were too fresh, there was no history to them, and as such, didn’t move with her when she walked.
After washing her clothes in the baths and hanging them up to dry, Astrid had taken some of the spare clothes that the monks always left folded for travellers to use.
The simple beige robes were made of three layers. One simple robe reached to the wrists and the ankles, split up the sides to the hip. A pair of sturdy wide-leg trousers were worn underneath, with a rope for a belt, and finally a thick woolen cloak was worn over everything else with a simple red sash around the waist, the sleeves wide and thick.
She wrung out her long hair and pinned it in a loose bun with the four steel pins. Her hair was still wet but she did not want to appear disheveled in front of the Abbot. She could let it down to dry later.
As she stepped out of her bath cubicle, a fresh mountain breeze blew down the corridor. She gazed up at the cloudless sky and smiled as the sun warmed her face.
She was on the second floor of the Monastery, the floor reserved only for close friends of the monks. Astrid was one of the few people with such a privilege.
‘Erin!’ One of the monks called out, and Astrid smiled at him, her veil gone and her face exposed. None of the monks minded or even seemed to notice the marks on her face. ‘The Abbot is waiting!’
Following him, Astrid glanced around her, happy to see the abbey was still the same as when she had last visited. Clean; everything was clean. The monks, though simple in their dress and surroundings, were meticulous when it came to presentation and hygiene. The floors were scrubbed daily, their hair was always trimmed short, and brushed. Their clothes were always clean and above all, they were always working on something. Time was not to be wasted, they said. It passed so fast.
And for humans it was all too true! Some of the monks she knew so well had a crown of silver hair on their heads already, their hair having been raven black the last time she had visited. It scared her, how quickly the humans died.
Walking into the large hall, the monk pushed aside the thick, heavy sheet curtains that served as doors during the day for the great hall. The walls inside were lined with two tables on either side of the walkway; only one large table was laid out across the hall directly in view of the door. The old Abbot looked up and smiled, and Astrid did her best to not run up to him, a wide smile spreading across her face as she slowly and respectfully approached. She stopped and bowed in front of the small table laid out for her in the centre of the room. Several bowls were filled with a much wider variety of food choices than the other monks had been offered.
The Abbot motioned for her to sit down and eat, and Astrid did so, reaching towards the steaming soup bowl. All the monks had their eyes on her, waiting impatiently for her to finish her food so the Abbot would ask her about her travels.
Finishing the soup, Astrid put the bowl down quietly, grinned at the monks’ eager faces and looked up.
‘You look tired, Erin. Maybe you should rest before telling us about your adventures?’ the Abbot said. His voice sounded sincere, but Astrid knew he was only saying it to tease the others. Their eyes looked at her pleadingly, like little children dying to be told a new and exciting story.
‘I can rest tonight. I have many stories you will like to hear!’ The monks shuffled in their seats excitedly.
‘Some I don’t think I will like,’ the Abbot said gravely, pointing at her severed left ear. Astrid reached up and touched it out of habit, like she always did when she was self-conscious.
‘Elves,’ she said simply. The Abbot’s face dropped, dismayed.
‘Why?’ he asked
‘I was in Waidu; it was my fault. I should have stayed away from the elf inns, but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to see what they looked like. They saw me standing by the doorway and I was about to leave, but some elves walked in and pushed me into the middle of the room. They thought I was a dwarf, then they saw my ears-’
‘Stop!’ the Abbot said quickly, seeing Astrid was starting to knot her fingers together nervously. ‘Tell us something else. Tell us about your travelling companions.’
Astrid told them everything, from leaving Einn to the Angu worms, right up to the moment when Skad had his legs broken by the falling tree. The Abbot asked what she thought of each of them.
‘Skad. You know what I think of him.’ Astrid growled, shook her head, and quickly moved onto another topic before she had the urge to stab something. ‘Knud is the young boy with the red, red hair. He’s a little devil!’ She laughed. ‘A clever little devil! He doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut, but he knows how to use his brain!’
‘And the dwarf with the sour face?’ one of the monks interrupted. The Abbot flashed him a disapproving look, but said nothing.
‘Halvard. He’s Jarl’s friend, though I don’t know why. Halvard is always so angry and sour, and he doesn’t trust me. Jarl is the opposite, he trusts me and he’s kind. Especially to Knud. He loves that little boy,’ she said, her face softening.
‘Is Knud his son?’
‘No. He’s his best friend’s son; or so Knud told me.’
‘And the dwarves, what do you think of them now?’
‘I don’t know what to think of them,’ Astrid admitted, looking down at her food. ‘If they were all like Skad or Halvard, I would not want to know them. Halvard hates me just because he thinks I’m human-’
‘Human?’ An old monk next to the Abbot laughed. ‘You’re far too pale to be human! Is he blind?’
Astrid chuckled. ‘He thinks I’m from the north. If he found out I’m a half-elf, I don’t know what he would do. But if they’re like Knud...or Jarl, then I think I would like them. Jarl especially. He’s brave.’
‘And the others aren’t?’
‘They are...’ Astrid admitted resentfully. ‘But they don’t smile. He does, he smiles and he’s kind. They aren’t. If I thought all dwarves were like Halvard or Skad I would hate them all.’
* * *
Jarl was restless. Only five days had passed but it was more than enough for him. He was anxious to get on the road again, knowing that the next part of their journey was where the real danger would present itself.
The Salt Monasteries was an outpost on the edge of the wild. The pass running alongside the spine of the Hiddari Mountains was notoriously treacherous, the region plagued by erratic weather and more than likely now, by goblin swarms too. He did not like to wait around for somethi
ng that worried him, preferring to face it head on, as soon as he could.
Also, in the five days they had been at the monastery, he had not seen Astrid even once. Not that he’d been actively looking for her, and to be fair the place was enormous, a large section of it built underground into the mountain, something that Jarl liked a lot, making him feel more at home. What worried him the most though, was that they were not the only travellers to be staying at the monasteries. A small party of elves were staying there too.
Thankfully the elves were sleeping in different quarters; the monks were well aware of the cultural hostilities between the two races and didn’t want any fighting to break out. And neither did any of the travellers. The monks were kind and welcoming, and did not tolerate any form of fighting among their guests. Nobody wanted to be kicked out onto the mountainside, which was something the monks were not adverse to doing if they found anyone causing trouble.
Walking back into the dormitory that he and the rest of the group were sharing with a few other human merchants, Jarl lay down on his bed and closed his eyes in an attempt to sleep, figuring that it was probably the fastest way to pass the time. The sun had set an hour ago and the salmon-pink glow of the salt lamps adorning the walls were making him sleepy.
Seeing his uncle closing his eyes from the bed opposite, Knud snuck out of the room and walked down the hallway towards the great hall, hoping he would either find Astrid or some Daru wine. He straightened his back and tried to walk in a firmer manner, knowing the monks would refuse him if they suspected he was drinking without permission.
Reaching the hall, Knud smiled as he saw a monk in the far corner serving wine from a large copper basin. There were only a few people sitting around, most of them monks. A few stone tables with wooden legs stretched the length of the hall and several salt lamps burned on the walls, emitting a warm, pinkish glow.
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