“The Great Helms! You can see why they are named so,” Einar called to Mershad and the others, gesturing towards the two towering rock formations, which did resemble the profile of the conical helms worn by the Midragardans. “Old tales say great giants that are the offspring of gods stand beneath them to this day, awaiting the final battle of Ragaras-Narok.”
Mershad had almost no idea of what Einar was referring to, but was fascinated by the claim nonetheless. The huge mountains were certainly of a size capable of containing giants, if such beings even existed.
The party was then blessed with an unfettered view of the gorgeous scenes spread all around them, as the sun broke out fully from the scudding clouds far overhead. The clear skies allowed for dramatic effects from the sun’s radiance, as the mountains along the fjord broke the beaming rays up. Striking contrasts were created instantly, as the greater portion of a mountain’s facing on one side was left draped in shadow, while the areas opposite it, across the fjord, were bathed in an abundance of golden light.
More than once, the quartet passed by dazzling waterfalls that tumbled and cascaded with silvery grace down the facings of towering escarpments. Some falls looked like long staircases carved into the sides of the lofty mountains, while others poured over the lips of high ledges, to plummet great distances into pools far below.
A few of the great mountains were still crowned in pure white, their summits reaching high enough that snows could continue to resist the onset of spring.
Einar drew the Fenraren even lower as they passed down the Silver Fjord, until Mershad was able to make out the faces of the people on the ships and settlements that they encountered along their path. The water and land collaborated to form a dizzying array of offshoots, nooks, and crannies, but Einar had no trouble in navigating the seeming maze, as they kept faithfully to the main channel of the fjord.
The Silver Fjord twisted and turned as it drove ever deeper into the Midragardan lands. Mershad sat back in his saddle, wholly content to relax, and take in the surrounding sights. He noticed that the traffic on the water was picking up considerably, with a much greater frequency of boats visible.
He also noticed that the mountains were gradually lowering in height, some more aptly described as great hills. His suspicions that they were approaching a larger settlement, or series of settlements, were confirmed not long afterwards. Expecting a larger estate or a small town, Mershad realized that he had greatly underestimated in his conjecture, as a very large market town loomed into sight. An expanse filled with edifices, the market town was spread out ahead of them, from the left side of the fjord.
A vast, semi-circular earthen rampart and timber palisade shielded the market town’s landward side. A ditch and moat paralleled the course of the rampart, reinforcing the protective elements. The curving outer wall was pierced by three main gates, providing access into the town. Each gate was provided with timber bridges that spanned the exterior ditch and moat. Stout wooden towers of a square profile were perched atop the gates. Armed warriors stood upon the upper platforms of the towers, overseeing the principle entrance and exit points of the large market town.
An amalgam of packhorses, pedestrians, and carts could be seen in the process of approaching, or departing from, the market town. Many were moving along the earthen pathways running across the neighboring lands up to the market town, and all manner of traffic was entering and exiting through the three main gates. The town itself was awash with vibrant activity. Narrow streets surfaced with wooden planking were lined on the sides by a variety of timber-built structures. Low fences demarcated larger plots of land, upon which multiple buildings had been erected.
The fjord’s waters around the market town teemed with numerous ships, of a great range of sizes. The area was itself provided with a kind of palisade, which formed a large crescent extending far out into the water from the town’s edge.
Some of the vessels were the size of great warships, long and elegant in profile, while others were much broader of beam, resting at anchor farther out in the water. There were more than a few small rowboats, which could be manned by just one or two persons.
Visible a short distance outside the walls of the market town, and standing atop its own great hill, was what appeared to be a circular fort. Looking over the town, its elevated position was marked by its tall earthen rampart, and thick crowning of wooden palisades. The fort did not seem to have much, if any, activity occurring within it, though there were some wooden structures within its protective circumference.
Einar led the party further inland, taking them around the outskirts of the market-town, and slowing down their pace, which allowed Mershad to take in the sights more easily.
“Hedirka, the great market town under King Hakon,” Einar yelled out, as they continued their passage around the town. “You will visit it soon enough! But we have pressing business with the king, and we cannot delay.”
After curling around Hedirka, they broke away from the market town and headed farther to the southeast. A roadway of hard packed dirt, cleaved by many continuous lines of wagon tracks, stretched onward beneath them. They shadowed the roadway from above as it reached out from the walled market town and meandered deep into the Midragardan lands, leaving the fjord increasingly farther behind.
The airborne party covered several more leagues before an expansive swathe of flatter, open ground came into view, upon which a large cluster of buildings was located. There were some trees dotting the area, turning into a much denser mass where the ground sloped up far behind the homestead to the east, ascending towards the top of a great ridge overlooking the estate.
A lake could be seen to the eastern side of the homestead, nestled serenely within the shadow of the prominent ridge. The lake was ornamented all around its edges by an abundance of purple, gold, and white, as a wealth of blooming flowers brought the richness of spring to grace the gleaming body of water.
Mershad was transfixed for a moment by the striking beauty of the sight, but his eyes were soon drawn toward the throng of structures that they were fast approaching. A hall of exceptional size was located at the center of the various timber edifices and outbuildings. The great hall drew the eye immediately, its gable ends decorated by crossing extensions that projected well above the apex of the roofline, shaped into what looked to be animal forms. Tendrils of smoke lazily wafted out of a sheltered opening placed midway down the ridge of the steeply-pitched roof.
Mershad’s gaze then roved onward, scanning the surrounding edifices and land around the regal hall that so clearly anchored the estate. There were fenced pens with attendant byres, as well as a number of smaller buildings and open-faced structures, which Mershad guessed were either workshops, or buildings for storage.
Other hall-shaped buildings, which also had covered smoke-holes in their rooftops, identified likely dwellings. They were of various lengths, but even the largest of them was much lesser in stature and appearance than the main hall.
Telltale furrows marked the location of thoroughly plowed fields, obviously put in use for the current growing season. The unbroken surfaces of other fields announced that they had been left fallow, or perhaps were to be used for grazing. The various fields spread out far from the large homestead.
A few minor structures, of the square, open-faced type, were scattered within the sprawling expanses of fields. A few of the fields were encompassed with a perimeter of low, wattle-and-daub fencing, while others were left entirely open.
Einar guided the group sharply downward, towards the open ground on the nearest side of the main cluster of edifices. The wolfish steeds landed surprisingly gently upon the ground, and Mershad silently rejoiced at the first feelings of solid ground underneath.
Einar immediately freed the protective straps that held the rider tight to the saddle, prompting the other three to do likewise. Mershad fumbled for a moment with the buckles of his own straps, but in a few seconds the hide lengths fell loosely to the sides of the Fenraren.
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Kent winced and moaned as he slowly got down out of his saddle. Mershad could not blame him for the display of discomfort, as his own body was riddled with a pervasive aching and stiffness. He clenched his teeth tightly as he eased himself carefully down to the ground, his lower back crying out for relief.
It was a little disorienting to suddenly feel the ground directly beneath his feet, a strange period of adjustment that he was only beginning to get used to following extensive periods aloft upon the sky steeds. The bobbing and shifting of flight, some movements subtle, and others not quite so gentle, depending upon the level of turbulence, were a constant when airborne. To suddenly go from an environment of wobbles and sways to one of rigid solidity was admittedly jarring to Mershad’s senses.
Derek bore whatever soreness he harbored with no outward change of expression, though Mershad fathomed that it was no less comfortable for him.
A few men rushed up to the travelers as they stood waiting upon the ground.
“Hail, Einar, welcome back to our lands!” a rather stout man with reddish blond hair greeted amiably.
“Hail, Onund! It is good to be back in King Hakon’s stead. These are guests of high honor, expected by the king, and will remain with me. Please see to it that our steeds are well-fed and given shelter,” Einar instructed him firmly.
Onund gestured to the men standing around him. They hurried to the sides of the Fenraren, taking up their tethers and leading the fatigued, hungry creatures off in the direction of what looked to be a byre.
Einar glanced towards Onund, and continued, “I wish we could request to be well-fed in your home, as that good wife of yours knows few equals in the preparation of food.”
Onund grinned, and patted the rounded paunch of his belly. “I always carry the proof of her skills with me.”
The two men laughed together, and Mershad could not help but grin at the self-deprecation.
“Einar!” shouted a resonant voice, coming from the right.
A tall, broad-shouldered man of modest build approached them. He possessed sparkling blue eyes, and his bright, blond tresses hung down loosely, to rest just below the tops of his shoulders. A well-groomed beard ornamented his angular face, and though he radiated confidence and strength, he had a very kindly look about him.
He wore a deep blue tunic, richly brocaded in gold threads that looked striking set against the darker blue, woolen fabric. He wore a bright red cloak over the tunic, adding to the vivid contrasts, and lushness, of color.
The glint of silver and gold came from several circular arm bands and an assortment of rings gracing his fingers. He carried a sword sheathed at his left side, the pommel of which was gilt in silver, as was the band around the mouth of his scabbard.
Mershad knew at once that this was a man of high standing, as his fine trappings allowed for nothing less.
“Svein!” Einar responded in genuine elation at the blond man’s approach, striding forward immediately and embracing the other tightly.
“Einar, you rascal! These eyes do not see you often enough, now that you ply the waters to the far north,” Svein greeted warmly, and Mershad could see the sincere affinity that the two men held for each other.
“The path of trade leads far,” Einar replied. “Perhaps too far, though.”
The smile faded, as a serious mien crossed Einar’s face and took hold.
“What concern burdens you?” asked Svein, growing solemn at the change in Einar’s mood.
“There is much to tell, Svein. More than I can begin to say here. These men should be brought before King Hakon now, and I feel that they should be protected by Midragard,” Einar replied firmly.
“Indeed, you have brought unusual guests,” Svein commented, as his eyes settled upon them, taking in the sight of Einar’s foreign companions. His eyes narrowed in scrutiny as he gazed upon Mershad and Derek. “Of the Sunlands, yes? Then they are very far indeed from their homelands.”
“No, I do not think they are of the Sunlands, and their tale may be hard to believe,” Einar responded. “But I have reason to believe that they speak truthfully, as do many others.”
“Then my curiosity is awakened,” Svein remarked. He turned to face the newcomers squarely, and took a couple steps towards them. He gave them an affable smile. “My name is Svein, a loyal retainer in service to good King Hakon, King of all Midragard.”
The three exiles proceeded to introduce themselves in turn, but there was no further delay, as Svein quickly heeded Einar’s advice. He led them into the midst of the complex of buildings, striding directly towards the large, prominent hall at the center.
On closer inspection, Mershad saw that most of the edifices were stave built or wood-framed, with wattle-and-daub panels, while a few were horizontal. All were wholly fashioned of timber, and roofed in thatch.
Children giggled and looked upon the newcomers with wide, curious eyes, though they kept to a respectful distance. A cat of considerable size, long legged and coated in black and white fur, paused to momentarily regard the party, before traipsing around the side of a nearby building.
Mershad soon gained a much better view of the animal forms looming above the apex of the main hall’s sharp-sloped roof. The crossing extensions at the gable end were fashioned by elaborate carving into vivid representations of two fierce wolves. Their dark, snarling visages radiated pride and ferocity, outlined starkly against the smooth, aqua sky.
The broad doors underneath the gables were open, and a couple of spear-armed warriors stood attentively to each side of the entrance. The warriors made no effort to impede the newcomers, as Svein led them directly into the large structure.
While the outside of the hall was not overly elaborate, the inside of the structure was stunning to behold. Towering circular posts of wood ran down each side of the hall, intricately carved with the highest levels of craftsmanship. The intertwining patterns snaking up the thick posts were comprised of a variety of geometric designs and representations of animals, both familiar and fantastical. The floor underneath their feet was hard-packed earth, provided with a layering of fresh rushes spread copiously over its surface.
An elongated hearth ran through the center of the hall, and a number of men and women were standing close to the warmth of the robust fire blazing within it. There were also a few lit oil lamps placed about the hall, bolstering the light coming from the hearth’s flames. The interior of the hall was filled with flickering shadows from the multiple sources of firelight.
Overall, the ambience was dim, as there were no side windows open to allow the sun’s light to enter. Only the entrance let some of the day’s light spill inside the great hall.
There was one opening in the middle of the roof, with a timber covering set just above it to keep out the rain. The billowing smoke from the fires could exit through it, but it did not rid the hall entirely of excess smoke. A haze lingered among the rafters, and the air inside was thicker, with a smoky scent.
At the far end of the hall was a raised platform, with a great wooden settle resting upon it, the back and arms of which were ornamented richly with exquisite carvings. Two short wooden pillars, which looked to Mershad’s eye to be freestanding, flanked the elaborate settle.
Seated upon the settle was an older man with a long white beard, who was engaged in conversation with a couple of fierce-looking men standing to his left, at the base of the low platform. To each side of the platform, set just in back of it, were a pair of closed doors. Judging by the full size of the hall, and estimating the interior space that they were now standing within, Mershad guessed that the doors opened into some manner of chambers or spaces beyond.
Though clearly advanced in years, the man upon the platform was still very erect in his posture, showing that age had not yet sapped him of a proud bearing. He was broad of frame, though the ready access to food and drink that a king enjoyed had evidently added a little padded girth to his body.
He was dressed in a manner similar to most of the othe
rs, with a long cloak over a tunic, the former being of a blue-green color, and the latter being of red with silvery brocade. The cloak was richly lined with fur. A blue-green headband, also embroidered in silver thread, held his snowy locks in place. His weathered hands, resting on the edges of the ornate wooden settle, showed the glint of gold and silver rings upon his long fingers.
Sprawled out on the ground before the platform was a great black wolf, with luminous golden eyes. The huge wolf raised its head as Einar and the others entered, and at the first sight of the creature, Mershad’s breath caught in his throat. Its penetrating gaze and triangular ears focused upon them as the newcomers approached.
There were a few large dogs loitering around the hall, though they kept to the shadows around the sides. Their ears also perked up, as their eyes riveted upon the incoming party.
Svein and Einar quietly led the three foreigners down the length of the hall, striding along the right side of the hearth. It did not take very long at all for the three exiles to attract the full attention of those around them. All conversations gradually ceased, as the Midragardans in the hall took account of the entrants.
Svein and Einar guided Mershad and his companions up to the right side of the platform, where they deferentially waited quietly as the older man on the throne finished up his conversation with the two strong-looking men. He had not yet taken notice of the newcomers, or at least had not indicated that he had. It would not have been entirely surprising to Mershad if he had remained engrossed in the conversation, as there seemed to be an open, flowing atmosphere within the hall.
“We will ride to my two easternmost estates, as there is some business there that I personally need to see to, and then we shall proceed onward to the Great Gathering,” the old man said to the two men in a low, steady voice. He had an authoritative cadence, slow and purposeful, as if he was the kind of man who gave careful thought to each word loosed from his mouth. “You may tell Thorolf that I will speak to him at length before then, about taking ward of his son on one of my estates, perhaps one of those two eastern ones. Tell him not to worry himself over the matter, as he has long done well by me, and I will certainly do well by him. There is much to attend to with the market town coming to full life, and Thorolf must see to it now that a good year begins. Spring is here and trade will be flourishing again. The trading fleets are well-poised to the north as we speak.”
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