TRONDHEIM SAGEN: Earth Shattering

by Andreas Hennen

  The woman stopped on the threshold of the door and looked at Long Sword without recognizing him. Then she answered him:

  "This is the Castle of Love of the Free Realm of Vyborg. You will not find greater wonders than these in any corner of the entire Kingdom," as she finished singing her own praises, she passed through the door, inviting everyone to enter.

  "So, would this be a brothel?" High asked, as he looked around.

  "Of course, but aren't you here for that?" asked the rough and improper woman of doubtful manners.

  "Absolutely not!" exclaimed High very annoyed, "we are only looking for a warm bed, where we can rest peacefully, and food to feed us."

  "Whatever you prefer, King. But be sure, you that you cannot enter an inn and then eat only your own food!" exclaimed the annoyed woman, looking at the beautiful princess. Tyra had lowered her hood, showing off her regal features creating burning, foolish envy in the breasts of the other women present.

  "Madam, have you gone out of your mind? Have you opened your doors welcoming us, only to insult us with your cowardly insinuations?" thundered Holaf wild and irascible, as only a man from the north could be.

  Responding to the angry shouts of the Lord of the North a dozen colourful soldiers came into the room with unsheathed swords and dubious intentions. One of them exclaimed to King Holaf:

  "You, Sire, must follow us!"

  But the Lord of the North did not move or waste time turning around. He had a slight smile on his face.

  "Now move!" The colourful soldier insisted, but the answer was certainly not the one he expected. Holaf unsheathed his huge sword and aimed it at the brave armiger.

  "Do you know at least who you are confronting, who you are addressing with such rude manners?" Holaf asked the soldier, who did not answer, but was repenting such arrogance offered so lightly.

  The Dragon, the Wolf, the Leopard and the Bear had meanwhile taken possession of the room to add their strength that of their Lord. Gripping his weapon, the War Master of the third rune commented on the overbearing brawler:

  "The little knight seems to have lost his tongue, my Lord!"

  The din of unsheathed blades and the angry words made the flashy women rush for safety into the adjacent room. A well cared for boy wearing only precious ochre silk pants appeared from the next room. His slim and muscular physique immediately made High think that he was a knight who was a patron of the brothel. So he turned his attention to those who were armed with swords and threatened battle.

  The situation seemed about to precipitate into a new battle, which no one would appreciate, except for the Dragon. In a circle around the princess and Elisabet, the Nordic soldiers waited for the outbreak of hostilities. It takes only an instant for an expert warrior, reading his opponent like a book, to anticipate an attack by a fraction of a second, which can be enough to grant victory.

  "Stop, in the name of the One God!" exclaimed the young man. "Guards of the Heart, lay down your arms and leave the room! The colourful soldiers obeyed, making it clear that the eccentric boy played an important role, perhaps as the manager of the brothel.

  The Commander of the guards turned to Holaf saying:

  "Excuse me, knight, apparently I misunderstood," he touched his helmet and returned to where he came from with his fellow guards.

  "Guards of the Heart? What a terrible name that is!" commented the soldier of the fourth rune contemptuously to himself. But he was immediately admonished, by King Holaf:

  "My War Master, I must ask you to moderate yourself. Do not offend those who have offered us food and shelter!"

  The boy introduced himself by hitting his fist on his chest forcefully, while approaching Dragon's Head.

  "I am Boris Morozov, younger son of King Demitry, Lord of Vyborg, and for my father I manage this activity," the young man presented himself boldly before continuing: "I joyfully welcome the Lord of the North and his peers, Lord of the East, under my humble roof. What can we do to satisfy you?"

  High did not respond immediately, observing that strange half naked young man with blond hair for a few moments.

  "We need comfortable rooms, a warm bath and good food," God-Slayer finally interrupted.

  "Certainly, my King! Would a single room be more appropriate for the young woman?" asked the Prince of Vyborg smiling as if he had sniffed out a deception.

  "If it is possible, young Prince, we would prefer a room for two, as her duenna must accompany the young Lady," High quickly answered adding, "I want two guards always, so we only need three double rooms!"

  "Only three rooms? From this am I to understand that you are not interested in taking advantage of the loving attention offered by our ladies?" commented the prince slightly disappointed by the limited possibility of profiting from the visitors.

  "I thank you, Prince Boris, but your ladies, however lovely they may be, are not suitable either for me or for the Lord of the North!" said High elegantly declining the suggestion.

  The God-Slayer, taking the keys of the rooms, noticed the enchanting choice of furniture in the room. Young, attractive fine-boned girls sat on small red sofas. All were serene, and most of the young ladies were wrapped in large furs, some red fox, some black wolf or other animals with russet coloured fur. They waited quietly polite and courteous for the invitation of patrons who failed to arrive because of the horrendous weather. Outside the wild weather crashed and thundered, composing sad poems on the roof tiles, not giving the bored girls any chance of earning a profit. The ladies didn’t speak, but allowed themselves subdued and hidden yawns, counting the grains of sand as they passed through the neck of the hourglass.

  "Mr Boris, I will accompany the people to their rooms, if you will allow me. At least I will move a bit and my legs won’t get pins and needles!" The beautiful Lady had dark brown hair and dark complexion, as if she had been basking in the sun for hours. Boris did not even answer, as he was intent on counting the money King Holaf had given him as payment for the rooms.

  "Is there a bathroom with the room?"Tyra asked extremely happy thinking about her longed for beautiful hot bath.

  The half-dressed boy lifted his head, looking at Tyra, amazed and perplexed exclaimed:

  "Miss, this house is well maintained and clean, but it is still a brothel!" and he burst into loud laughter.

  Tyra more annoyed than confused, appealing to all his kindness asked:

  "Prince, could you explain to me what I said that made you laugh so much?" The blond boy did not deign to answer but continued to laugh.

  "Prince of Vyborg, good manners would make our overnight stay more pleasant!" warned King Holaf in a serious tone, but Boris had never had good manners from birth and replied annoyed:

  "You come to my brothel and treat me like a damned innkeeper reject the attentions of my young workers, as if they were disgusting, and bring your own food to my table! What do you expect me to say?"

  "Young and impertinent pup, moderate your language and apologize to Princess Tyra, daughter of Grigor, King of South Winter!" High cried out infuriated. He got up from his stool, where he was resting his tired body.

  Boris had such an astonished and confused expression on his face that the proud King guessed that the prince’s error was caused by a misunderstanding after receiving poor advice.

  "Why are you surprised to learn of the girl's noble birth?" asked High with renewed calm.

  Vyborg's scion shook his head and put his hands into his blond hair exclaiming:

  "Princess? My helper said she was a prostitute from the Citadel!"

  Boris turned around and then addressed, Tyra as he should always have done:

  "My splendid Princess, I humbly ask your forgiveness for the unpleasant misunderstanding. Certainly I should have understood that such refinement could not belong to hussies of that kind."

  The prostitutes present muttered and all felt offended. Some well-worded insults were addressed to the young prince, who ignored them all.

  Now that we have finally re
solved all your doubts about where I come from, could someone tell me where the bathroom is?" Tyra asked again, very unsatisfied with the apologies received from the crude prince.

  "I think it's in the courtyard, next to the straw store," Boris answered, clumsy and uncertain.

  The answer attracted the sarcasm of King Holaf, who approached the young prince and looked more threatening than he meant, asked:

  "What do you mean ‘believe’? You manage this place and you don't know where the bathrooms are?"

  The frightened prince hastened to reply:

  "I come here just to collect the money and to enjoy myself a little. I take a bath in my own house!"

  Holaf seemed amused by the clear incompetence of the scion and smiling he slipped on his demon helmet exclaiming:

  "I'm going to check the existence of the bathroom wherever it might be!"

  The Lord of the North did not need move, since the Dragon had already prepared himself for the new mission. The knight, sniggering metallically from his helmet, said to the first rune:

  "If you don't see us coming back, bring some paper to the bathroom. Always assuming you succeed in the feat of finding it!"

  "Do not go, my King, it will be a useless journey and you will get soaked for nothing!" The beautiful prostitute, who had previously offered to accompany the nobles to their rooms, languorously commented.

  "Woman, why, will we be wasting our time?" asked the third rune, curious and attracted by the charming young Lady.

  "First of all the bathroom is not there, but behind the wood storage in the back yard. Second, it's just a black hole and will not be of much use into fulfilling the princess's desire for a cleansing hot bath," eloquently commented the dark beauty. She stood up, her red fox fur playful and jaunty at a distance, gave a glimpse of her lean bare body. "Follow me, my nobles and warriors, I will lead you to your rooms, where I will show the Princess of the North how to get herself a beautiful warm bath," the dusky beauty offered her help.

  The prostitute walked towards High and took the keys from the hand of the Lord of the East with a fluid and sensual movement, allowing him the opportunity to admire the grace with which she moved.

  "You aren’t going anywhere, whore!" the noble son of Vyborg cried out. "You have to work! Your earnings are falling. If you don't make any money this evening, you won't eat!"

  The girl stopped half way up the stairs and looked at the half-naked young man and answered:

  "Which customers should I make money with? The brothel is empty, and the rain will have cooled down any man’s heated spirits in the entire Kingdom. And you, personally, have no hope with me, as you never pay!" That said, she resumed her climb to the first floor of the building, followed by soldiers from the east, the Kings and finally the North.

  The Dragon's Head, approaching the young Boris enquired:

  "My Lords and Ladies would like to have dinner. I hope there are refined dishes in abundant quantity, or the reward will not be generous!" And going down the stairs without even turning around, he commented, "It is a good brothel, pity it is so far away from Trondheim!"

  The hospitality of the improvised abode for nobles was pleasing to the Kings, soldiers. Even the Princess of the North liked it. She had come to life after the warm and relaxing pampering of a perfumed bath. Not even the dinner disappointed, despite the fact that the kitchen was not able to produce overly refined dishes. Prince Boris apologized to his guests saying:

  "Forgive me, my Lords and my Kings, for the poverty of the dishes offered. They are certainly not worthy of noble tastes, mine included. But you can understand the situation. Usually the comfort we offer is not food. On the occasions when it is needed, we serve a soup or a boiled meat to our patrons."

  King Holaf stood up brandishing a mug of cider, produced by an expert brewer, and exclaimed:

  "I thank my mighty War Masters for their vigour in battle!" Waving the jug he toasted them, ‘Skål!’ and drank the contents in one, before sitting heavily into a dark wooden chair, refilling the empty pitcher of cider.

  It was the turn of the third rune. He stood up with a cup in his hand saying:

  "A toast to the Gods of the North for today's victory and toast to any other God to guide the hand of our brothers of the East! Skål!"

  "I toast my saviours, their mighty soldiers and my Elisabet!" Tyra said, getting up with a pale glass of water, and added: "A toast to the warmth of a hearth, to a hot bath and to the aromatic salts given to me!"

  A stunned for a moment by such a toast, it took a few moments for the rough warriors to understand her sincerity. It was the Bear's Head who raised his tankard and shouted ‘Skål!’ Then he gulped the cider and thumped the tankard violently on the table. The last toast came again from Holaf, who wanted to drink a toast saying:

  "Let's toast King High, my brother of the sword, and the prodigal Godwin, marching alone along dark and dangerous paths! Skål!"

  They all toasted and drank abundantly. The dinner was a success. Night fell, silent and dark. There wasn't a single star in the sky. Storm clouds covered the firmament. Only on the horizon, the divine glow could still be seen.

  Time flowed slowly for the sleepy guards, deployed in front of the door of the Princess of South Winter. Nothing seemed to move. The only noise came from the moans of pleasure of the beautiful prostitute, who had offered to accompany the travellers. At that moment, the dark beauty was entertaining the third rune. However he did not forget his duty as a soldier and emerged, clean and perfumed, very satisfied, even though he had to take his turn on guard duty.

  "Have you had fun, my brother?" asked the fourth Master of the War, companion of the Dragon, seeing him arrive smiling.

  "I won't deny it, that girl is fantastic!" the powerful perfumed Dragon answered.

  "How much did she charge you may I ask, if I dare?" asked the other curious, but the Dragon did not answer and he turned surly.

  "Brother, if I have offended you, I ask forgiveness this is the first time in a brothel, for me," revealed the smiling Bear Head.

  "At the Citadel I saw you with my own eyes calling out to the whores from the street!" exclaimed the Dragon thinking to contradict his companion in arms.

  "Yes, I'm very good at being stupid and rough, but in truth I've never had the pleasure of a woman!" the Bear replied embarrassed. Such a lack was excused by his youth. In fact, the Bear's Head was the one with the least number of winters seen, among all his companions in arms.

  "What are you telling me!" he exclaimed the astonished warrior of the third rune looking at his companion, "you fight so powerfully. You can kill like no other boy of your age in Trondheim, and you have seen horrors that would be unbearable for most people, but have never lain with a woman?"

  "My brother, to my great regret you have painted a perfect picture of my life," replied the young Nordic warrior.

  They would have talked for much longer, if they had not been interrupted by the squeaking of the hinges, followed by a loud din produced by male voices coming from the ground floor. The Dragon fell silent and listened to the words of the new arrivals. Mixed with swearing, curses and rude speech, the voice of a man was heard telling of the macabre discovery of many dead soldiers. A corpse, ravaged and martyred by hellish beings was described.

  "Stay alert, my brother, I’ll go to the stairs to hear them better," ordered the Dragon to the Bear, who nodded approval and brought his hand to his chest. On tip-toe, in spite of his massive size and the noise of his armour, the third rune approached and managed to hear what was said by the strangers, without being discovered.

  "We are looking for a group of pigs, guilty of killing the soldiers of Varius," said a large imposing man with a shiny helmet on his head. He was wearing the colourful tunic of Varius.

  The unrefined Lady did not utter a word, remaining motionless in her place. A second man approached, threateningly. Placing his sword on the table he said in a cold voice:

  "We don't know how many they were, the tracks have d
isappeared thanks to the rain, but this is the first place to be found on the way." The soldier passed his left hand over his long rough reddish beard, insisting again: "Are you sure you have had no guests?"

  The woman looked at him and answered:

  "What a question, knight! This is a brothel, or didn’t you notice? Obviously we have had guests, hundreds, despite the weather, but I will certainly not be revealing their names to you!"

  "How many men of military age are nestled up with your women now?" A third soldier asked in a loud voice. But the woman did not answer, irritating the three men.

  "Do you want to feel the edge of this sword, you disgusting whore?" one of the soldiers cried out angrily.

  The door opened, squeaking again, and the ten red heart armigers with unsheathed swords rushed in. The Commander came forward threateningly:

  "Knights of Varius, leave this place immediately!"

  "Boys, where do these pixies of love come from?" One of the three blue soldiers commented in ribald tones not having carefully evaluated his chances of surviving a fight.

  "You are only three, we are ten swordsmen, and outside there are thirty more armigers just waiting for a fight. In addition, your only protection is a fancy shirt, stuffed with vanity!" The young but observant Commander of the Guard of Hearts pointed out.

  While they were having this discussion on the ground floor, behind the Dragon there was a queue of people listening. The dark haired beauty whispered to her gallant occasional swain:

  "If you need a way out, I can tell you the best exit used by unfaithful husbands." The Dragon smiled, but gave no answer and still turned his ear to the quarrelsome guests.

  "Okay, Hearts, if you kill us, the whole army of Varius will come to look for us, and you will have no hope of keeping your heads on!" replied one of the three men, sheathing his sword. He was disappointed by the answer of the young Commander, who after a short break, exclaimed:

  "I think I can run that risk. You had better leave immediately!"

  The situation was quiet for a few moments until the men with red beards made the wise decision to lay down their arms: