Word Count: 24,006
Summary of Events:
Bergljót woke up feeling sore from sleeping on the cellar floor; her father told her that the wind had let up and now it was just raining, so she could go up and sleep in her bed, which she did. Hallbjörn woke up to find himself lying on a bed in the room of a simple house; the woman of the house came in with some food and informed him he was likely the sole survivor of the shipwreck, which brought him much grief. The heavy winds had brought down a lot of trees, so the whole town had gathered together to work at cleaning up the trees and fixing the buildings the trees had damaged . . .
Excerpt of the Day:
Bergljót, meanwhile, was helping all the women, who had brought together food from their cellars and were cooking a big lunch for all the men outdoors, their fire fuelled by firewood they’d brought from dry storage, as well as all the little branches and twigs and the like that weren’t really worth stowing in the woodshed for later times.
Like always, after-storm cleanup was a big community effort, with all the men gathering their tools and working together to remove the trees and then, after that was done, repair the damaged houses and other buildings.
Papa and Brynjar were both swinging axes and — like many of the men — had worked up such a sweat that their shirts had been discarded because in soaking up the sweat the shirts were clinging to their bodies and restricting their movement.
Jónatan was helping haul the chunks the men had chopped or sawed off the trees over to another area where other men were splitting wood, and Gunnar and Tómas were helping stack the split wood onto wagons that were going to haul the wood to everyone’s woodsheds until they were all stocked full, then the extra wood would likely be stacked between trees to form something of a makeshift fence — although there was also talk that it might be stored in Tryggvi’s barn.
About the only people who weren’t doing anything, really, was the oldest people, and the littlest babies, although some of the old men were driving the wagons and monitoring the boys’ efforts to make sure they weren’t slacking off or anything.
And, until the work was all done, there really wasn’t going to be all that much by way of normal business done in Haldabænum, unless a visitor came; however, Bergljót was sure that this scene was playing out in every other town on Virki, so it wasn’t likely that anyone would be travelling anywhere for any reason, other than to maybe offer their help if they’d gotten everything cleaned up where they were at already.
At the moment Bergljót’s job allowed her a lot of time for observation, as she’d been assigned to trim carrots that had been brought fresh from the gardens, removing the narrowest parts of the roots, as well as their tops, which were then taken by the basketful and scattered to the animals, who ate them eagerly.
Bergljót watched as the men, skin shining with sweat even though the sun was hidden behind some thin and white clouds, as they swung their axes or hauled one way, then somewhat pushed the other working a long-bladed two-handled saw back and forth through the logs.
Honestly, if any woman were looking for a man and wanting to know how strong he was, all she needed to do was wait for a big storm to come through and then watch the men as they worked.
Pronunciations:
Brynjar: brihnyahr
Jónatan: johnahtahn
Tómas: tohmahs
Tryggvi: treegvee
Haldabænum: hauldahbyenuhm
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