Oath Bound: Day 3

Word Count: 18,097

Summary of Events:

Aðalbjörn went to the silversmith to get him to make a special holder for the stone he had acquired so that it wouldn't be damaged, which could bring about a curse; but because he was loathe to leave the stone out of his possession he had to go to the stonemason to get a replica fashioned out of a less valuable stone for the silversmith to use as a model. Friðljót was so upset and depressed about her betrothal that she didn't eat and wouldn't get out of bed, but stayed alone with her thoughts, yearning for the handsome young warrior she'd dreamed of, but with no hope of finding him. Once the replica was finished Aðalbjörn took it to the silversmith and then went to the meadow his siblings regularly played in, where he found his mother was on duty to mind them, and she asked him to sit and talk to her, beginning with conversation about the warrior his father had sent off to Gammelhjem to investigate the reports of the merchantmen . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“How long has he been gone?” she asked.

“Nigh unto a week,” Aðalbjörn replied.

“And you wonder now?” she asked.

“Of what?” he asked.

“She who is to be your bride,” she replied.

“Of a token,” he admitted.

“Only a token,” she said, as if astonished.

“I am shocked to know that I am betrothed,” Aðalbjörn admitted, looking at his mother’s eyes, the very same shade of blue as his own. “I feel unready.”

“And why does the first of my womb feel unready?” she asked.

“I cannot . . . say,” Aðalbjörn replied.

“You do not wish to tell me?” she asked.

“I know not how to say it,” Aðalbjörn replied.

Her hand reached across and gently her fingers slid into his hair, running close to his scalp and filling him with a soothed sensation as the action had always done.

“Do you feel it wrong to be happy when Marúlf is gone?” she asked.

A stab of pain hit his heart. “Part of me does.”

“There is more to it,” she said.

“Yes,” Aðalbjörn replied.

She sighed and drew her hand from his hair to resume her needlework.

“Part of me feels it would distract from my duty,” Aðalbjörn said.

“Your duty?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied.

“What duty have you which would be hampered by marriage?” she asked.

“The duty to Marúlf’s daughter,” he replied.

“You have a duty to her?” she asked.

“I pledged her father,” Aðalbjörn replied.

“That you would be as a father to her?” she asked.

“No,” Aðalbjörn replied. “I pledged that I would guard him with my life.”

“And you intend that pledge to be carried on to his seed?” she asked.

“Yes,” Aðalbjörn replied.

“And you think a wife would inhibit that?” she asked.

“I would have a duty to a wife,” he replied.

“Surely you could do both,” she replied. “Your father has duties to his wives, children, and people, and fulfills them all. One day all three duties will be yours, and you will need to be able to do them all without compromise, as your father. Surely having a duty to a brother’s child and a wife will give you good practise.”

He nodded, she had a point there; but he wasn’t sure how he would succeed; only the hound lounging on his belly beside him and the handsome stallion in the stables knew about the misgivings he possessed regarding his even being king. He had failed Marúlf, how could he come through for anyone else? Even his people as king?

Oath Bound: Day 2

Word Count: 12,029

Summary of Events:

Friðljót's mother informed her that a special guest was coming to call; alluding to the idea that something significant was going to happen to Friðljót, so she snooped on the guest's arrival and saw that it was Snerrigeírr the king of Gammelhjem's southern neighbour, Uppodlingland, which left Friðljót full of foreboding. Aðalbjörn's father determined to send a warrior to investigate the reports of the merchantmen, but yet felt foreboding that an evil lurked in Gammelhjem, so he and Aðalbjörn went to visit a vitki* so as to allay his concerns. At the banquet held in honour of Snerrigeírr of Uppodlingland, Friðljót felt ill and unsettled and wanted to get away, but she had to wait until the eating was done before she could do so . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Before she could open her mouth to get her mother’s attention and proclaim her false complaint so as to escape the gathering, her mother rose to her feet and, instead of politely tapping the edge of her goblet with her knife, causing a soft ringing that got people’s attention in a rather civilised fashion, took up the jar of wine in front of her, and threw it to the floor.

“Let everyone be quiet!” she shouted.

Many people looked warily at her, those of Uppodlingland looked somewhat horrified at the fact that wine had willingly been wasted when it was so hard to get.

“I wish to make an announcement on behalf of my husband, Marfrið, lord and king of Gammelhjem,” her mother went on.

All the silent people now looked curious, attentive. She felt the bit of food she’d eaten tossing about in her stomach like the ocean’s waters tossed about in great gales.

“An agreement has been reached between Marfrið of Gammelhjem and Snerrigeírr of Uppodlingland, to forge an alliance, a brotherhood, that will see us help one another, and have the peace between each other which has not been known before this time,” her mother proclaimed. “As the seal of this alliance, Marfrið of Gammelhjem has agreed to grant Snerrigeírr of Uppodlingland the hand of Friðljót, his only daughter, in marriage to his new ally.”

It took an immense amount of effort for Friðljót not to regurgitate her food, scream, or burst into tears — or even do all three simultaneously. This declaration was worse than all her worst nightmares; she had feared merely to be wedded to one of Snerrigeírr’s equally lecherous sons by one of his first four wives, but to think that she was to become his fifth when he was more than old enough to be her father, for he was slightly older than her father, such a horrific thought had never come to her mind.

Now it was fact, and she saw the horror she felt hidden behind the stoic masks of some of her father’s subjects on the main floor of the hall before her. They were no more pleased with the news than she was, although she was sure they were hiding it better, as she felt as if she were as white and cold as snow itself.

“Let the ale be brought!” her mother cried. “And let us rejoice in this alliance.”

With that, her mother sat down and, as she looked toward her mother to make her escape, she found the watery eyes of Snerrigeírr looking at her, while a too-wide, too-happy, too-lecherous smile curled his lips.

She pried her gaze away from him, not wanting to know what he was thinking, lest the bile rising within her get so high that she couldn’t push it back down, and turned her gaze toward her mother.

“Please, may I, may I go?” she asked.

Her mother turned quickly and looked at her sharply. “Go?”

“I ate too much,” she lied.

“You look quite ill,” her mother said condescendingly. “What a wretched time for you to come down with something. Go.”

Pronunciations:

Snerrigeírr: snehrihg'ayr

Uppodlingland: uhpaw'dlinglahnd

Vitki: vihtkee

*vitki (pl. vitkar): wise women (and occasionally men) of Svärtaland who possess supernatural abilities and a lifespan that is on average triple that of normal people.

Oath Bound: Day 1

Word Count: 6,029

Summary of Events:

Aðalbjörn went out to the meadow where his youngest siblings, and his niece, were playing to spend time with his niece; from the elevation of the meadow he saw a group of merchantmen arrive, and so hurried down to see what they had brought, acquiring from them a beautiful white stone said to have protective powers. Once they'd offered their wares they sat down and told the news, as well as answering an enquiry Aðalbjörn's father made of the kingdom of Gammelhjem, which puzzled Aðalbjörn, as he only knew the kingdom existed, nothing more; so, once the merchantmen had gone to sell their wares to the rest of the town, he asked his father, who told him that some years ago a message had come from the king of Gammelhjem, whom his father had gone to war with long before either man had been married or king . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Part of Aðalbjörn was curious about his father’s past relations with Marfrið of Gammelhjem, but he knew that to enquire of them would be to distract from his original enquiry, he could ask about them later.

“I have never received a message such as his,” Father replied. “It was an offer of betrothal.”

“An offer of betrothal?” Aðalbjörn asked.

“Yes,” Father replied. “He offered the hand of his daughter, who was just an infant, in marriage.”

“Then why did Marúlf not marry her?” Aðalbjörn asked. “Surely he was betrothed to her before Auðnýr.”

“She was not offered to Marúlf,” Father replied.

“But who else would she be offered to?” Aðalbjörn asked. “A king’s daughter is only ever offered to a king’s son.”

“Are you not my son Aðalbjörn?” Father asked. “Are not all those sons of my wives which are younger than you my sons also?”

“Yes Father,” Aðalbjörn replied. “But Marúlf was your firstborn.”

“And it was my firstborn whom Marfrið made clear he did not want his daughter wedding,” Father replied. “His specific request was for my second son. For you.”

Aðalbjörn stared at his father. He didn’t know that he could’ve been more shocked if lightning had been sent from above and struck him. Him!? The king of Gammelhjem had wanted him to marry his daughter!?

“We negotiated particulars back and forth for a time before reaching an agreement that, when the princess of Gammelhjem came of marriageable age, she would be brought with an entourage and dowry from Gammelhjem and wed to you, my second son,” Father went on. “Since she was but an infant at the time, she would’ve needed sixteen years to come of marriageable age; thus that should be the present, yet she has not come.”

Words eluded Aðalbjörn. He felt as if his capacity to speak had been robbed from him the instant his father had told him that he had been betrothed to an infant. Of course, he’d lived sixteen less years than presently, which meant that he had been hardly more than an infant himself, but it still staggered him. He’d never heard of a betrothal being arranged that early in the life of anyone. Surely even Marúlf himself hadn’t been betrothed to Auðnýr at that time!

“Thus, to answer your enquiry,” Father continued, seemingly oblivious to his son’s dumbstruck state. “I enquired after Gammelhjem that I might know when the princess would be coming to wed you, and considering the news I have heard this day from trusted and loyal servants, I have great doubts about whether it will happen, for surely Marfrið, though younger than I, being aged beyond me by time and a half, is in no state to bring his daughter to me, and if a woman is hated with as much a passion as his wife is hated by his people, surely she would not bring her daughter to me.”

Pronunciations:

Marfrið: mahrfrihth

Marúlf: mahrolf

Auðnýr: awthneer

June Novel Essential Information

Novel Title: Oath Bound

Time Setting: 791*

Genre: Fantasy

Minimum Word Goal: 90,000

Timespan: June–July

Locations: Gammelhjem, Gammelhjem; Mørkningsfjord, Mørkningsfjord; and Klarutsikt, Klarutsikt, Svärtaland

Main Characters: Aðalbjörn of Mørkningsfjord, Friðljót of Gammelhjem

Background Information: Born the second son and third child of his father, the first his father had by his second wife, Aðalbjörn was a matter of months younger than his brother, who was the son of his father’s first wife.

As a result of their closeness in age, Aðalbjörn and his brother spent a lot of time together and thus were given the same education even though his brother was the one who was going to become king of Mørkningsfjord after their father.

Over time it emerged that Aðalbjörn was a more savage warrior than his brother, and thus he and his brother actually pledged that he would be his brother’s chief bodyguard, which was a role he took seriously.

When the brothers accompanied their father on raids and other engagements Aðalbjörn worked diligently to take on more men than his brother had to, although he didn’t prevent his brother from engaging in battle entirely.

While in a particularly heated battle with people who were resisting a raid, however, an archer succeeded in shooting Aðalbjörn’s brother in the heart; enraged, Aðalbjörn went on a rampage and ended up scaring the enemy forces into retreating before having to be dragged back to his own people instead of chasing them down.

Aðalbjörn grieved deeply for his brother, feeling that he was responsible for his brother’s death by not protecting him well enough. His brother had been married when he died, and his wife had been pregnant; she gave birth a little prematurely to a daughter when she heard the news and then killed herself at her husband’s funeral, leaving their daughter an orphan.

As much as Aðalbjörn wished that he could’ve died too, he was now heir to his father’s title and domain, and it would’ve been considered cowardly for him to kill himself, so he has taken on his brother’s role as heir, as well as taking on something of a guardianship role to his niece, who is being raised by his stepmother.

In the couple years since his brother’s death Aðalbjörn hasn’t gotten married yet, but he’s beginning to think he should probably look into finding a wife, except that he doesn’t want to leave a devastated widow like his brother did.

Born the only child of her parents, the king of Gammelhjem and his second wife, her mother died shortly after her birth, which was a terrible blow to her father, who had loved his second wife more than his first, even though his first wife was regarded by all to have been the prettier of the two, although she’d never produced a child.

As a result of her stepmother having never had a child and her father’s having been too in love with his second wife to consider the idea of marrying any more wives, Friðljót stands as heiress to her father’s title and domain.

Because of her bearing a strong resemblance to her mother, her father doted on her significantly, particularly in her younger years, but as time has passed her father has changed in many ways.

He’s taken on an aged appearance that makes him look twice as old as he actually is, has lost his ability to speak clearly, and doesn’t move around at all; effectively he has entered a vegetative state.

Her father’s descent into vegetation has allowed for her stepmother to have more control over the kingdom, as well as Friðljót herself, which has caused Friðljót’s life to become more and more miserable as her stepmother treats her with severe contempt and unkindness.

The treatment of her stepmother and the effective loss of her father have caused Friðljót much distress and bred in her a deep yearning to be of age to be married so that her husband can take her into his house and away from the unhappiness that has become the centre of her existence; thankfully, she has recently finally achieved marriageable age and thus hopes it will only be a matter of time before she is betrothed to a handsome young man who will free her.

*does not correlate to 791AD

Pronunciations:

Gammelhjem: gahmehlhyehm

Mørkingsfjord: muhrking'sfeeyord

Klarutsikt: klahrooktsit

Svärtaland: svertahlahnd

Aðalbjörn: ahthahlbyourn

Friðljót: freethleeyuut

Unavoidable Confrontations: Day 15

Word Total: 90,017

Year to Date: 480,071

Summary of Events:

Erik came home from work and had Madeleine listen to a confrontation he had with Kaira in which he told her that he was not pleased with her advances toward him, nor with the insults that, during their confrontation, she levelled at Madeleine; he also told Madeleine that Mr. Kjeldsen would be reassigning him and Kaira to different places. Axel got a reply from Amalie that was rather scathing, suggesting he should've come back to Denmark, but was stopped from feeling sorry for himself by the arrival of Jordyn, whom he decided would be a good replacement for Amalie. Madeleine woke up with Erik beside her on his first day off in a long time, and couldn't have been happier — although she and Erik agreed that they didn't want to be apart, but because they loved each other too much, not because of fear, so she planned to call Nellie and tell her she wouldn't be a bridesmaid. Axel was outside enjoying the morning when he heard a truck driving slowly and discovered it was Travis — and his young son — and they were on the yard looking at the grain bins . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“What do you want?” Travis swore, apparently not caring what language his son knew.

“You to stop trespassing,” Axel replied. “This is private property, and I can tell by your slow crawl that you intended not to be discovered. Besides, we require appointments for grain sales.”

“Why should I respect you when you won’t respect me?” Travis asked.

“Because if I, being disrespected, call the police and report your disrespect of me, you could be arrested for it, as I have the right to determine who is allowed on my property or not, and people behaving furtively are definitely not welcome,” Axel replied.

“Hm,” Travis said indignantly.

“But, to kill the cat, how am I not respecting you?” Axel asked.

“To kill the cat?” Travis asked.

“It’s your own Englishism,” Axel replied.

“I’ve never heard it,” Travis snapped.

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Axel replied. “I’m just playing on it.”

“How?” Travis asked.

“Just answer my question,” Axel snapped with a milder oath than Travis had used, it wasn’t fun when he had to explain his play on words. After all, English was Travis’ first language, not his, so Travis should’ve been able to get it.

“You’re disrespecting me by not answering my question right now,” Travis replied insolently.

“That’s not the answer you were thinking of originally,” Axel retorted.

“No, it wasn’t,” Travis admitted defiantly. “The main way that you’re disrespecting me is by not dropping those bogus charges.”

“Bogus,” Axel said.

“Yeah, don’t you know what bogus means stealer?” Travis taunted.

“Not genuine or true,” Axel replied. “Which the charges against you are most certainly not. They are not bogus. They are genuine and true. After all, combines don’t roll over by themselves when they’re strapped to trailers.”

“How do you know?” Travis demanded.

“It doesn’t seat with logic,” Axel replied.

“Whatever that means,” Travis said. “I’ll bet I could find it on YouTube.”

“Yeah, but is the tractor going to travel four hundred metres?” Axel demanded. “On that short of a slope, leading onto that level of a surface, that combine, if merely falling over, should’ve merely gone on its side, maybe upside down. It’s too square to go further. But it rolled multiple times. And if you didn’t hit that truck and trailer then why do they have the worse damage?”

“Shut up and get off my truck,” Travis swore.

“Then you’d better be getting off this yard or I’m going to get the police over here and add to the amount of legal fees you’re going to have to spend to try and ensure that your sentence is less than you deserve,” Axel replied.

“This isn’t the end,” Travis swore.

“As if,” Axel retorted. “We haven’t even had a court date yet.”

Travis rolled up his window and Axel stepped back cautiously.

He startled when the truck shot forward and ran toward the nearest bin as Travis whipped a tight turn and then screamed out the driveway, driving very close to the bin as if to warn Axel that even if his relationship with Amalie was over, his dealings with the Murray Rowlands were far from it.

Next Post: 30 May.

Unavoidable Confrontations: Day 14

Word Count: 84,153

Summary of Events:

Madeleine asked Erik to tell her what Kaira looked like, and got upset when he told her that he wasn't going to do it, lest he fuel her obsession. Axel finally screwed up the courage to message Amalie over social media, although he felt the message was highly awkward. Madeleine came to the decision that if Erik wasn't going to tell her what Kaira looked like she'd walk down to the farm and find out for herself. Axel was waiting for the grain to be unloaded out of his truck when a very beautiful woman, but one he could tell was married, approached him . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“May I speak to Mr. Kjeldsen?” she asked, a subtle different accent to her voice than he’d ever heard before, but still struck him as familiar.

Quickly Axel discarded and crushed out his cigarette, it had been almost done anyways. “Um, well, you are.”

She startled and looked him over somewhat suspiciously, he thought he saw her gaze linger on Muninn for a moment.

“You are?” she asked.

“Axel Kjeldsen,” he replied.

“Oh,” she said.

“You were wanting Uncle Morten,” he said.

“Yes,” she admitted.

“And you are?” he asked.

“Madeleine Patriksson,” she replied quietly.

Axel hoped the small explosion inside his brain didn’t cause any smoke to come out of his ears. This was Erik’s wife? He actually felt jealous. She was about the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life, even prettier than Amalie.

As the smoke dissipated from the mental explosion, though, it revealed one of his newest little memories, fresh from that morning.

He’d videoed a portion of the milking — which had included one of the cows getting upset that two people were hovering so close to her and deliberately stepping back onto Kaira’s foot, which had incited an angry outburst from the offended woman that Erik had quelled — and Erik had noticed.

Erik had enquired why he was taking the video and he’d explained that Kaira’s closeness to him was unsafe, which had surprised Erik, who’d said Kaira had told him it was just her method.

Axel had elected to show him the video and Erik had been appalled and mortified, and it was his comment that emerged from the smoke in Axel’s brain now: “Maybe Madeleine does have a reason for being so mad at me.”

“Would you come with me Mrs. Patriksson?” Axel asked — even if it felt odd to call a woman who looked so beautiful, and young, Mrs.

She nodded, although she looked a little puzzled, and Axel turned, leading the way under the auger.

“But you’re almost empty,” Axel stopped and turned to look at the two men who were unloading his truck.

“How almost?” Axel asked.

The grain flow out of his trailer answered the question, dropping the last couple dozen kernels into the auger.

“That almost.”

“I’ll move then,” Axel said. “Mrs. Patriksson wait, over there, close to the bin.”

Mrs. Patriksson nodded obediently and Axel hurried to move his truck enough out of the way that another truck could come unload, then he hurried back to Mrs. Patriksson, who was standing quite close to the bin quietly.

“Come with me,” Axel said.

Obediently Mrs. Patriksson started toward Axel and he set off toward the barn; the vet had been called on account of concerning behaviour in one of the pregnant cows and if Axel wasn’t mistaken Kaira was helping him and Mr. Duncan. He hoped she was.

Unavoidable Confrontations: Day 13

Word Count: 78,007

Summary of Events:

Madeleine woke up still feeling troubled and became even more troubled when Erik didn't talk to her or hardly even look at her; he seemed cold and angry and she didn't know why, but she was certain that her marriage was as good as over. Axel, having seen Kaira the other day wearing makeup unlike usual, as well as behaving oddly about Erik, got up early and watched the milking; he got frustrated by how close Kaira worked to Erik and told her to give Erik more space for safety reasons before one of the other employees asked Axel for a moment's chat in the milk house, where the employee told Axel he and others had tried the same thing Axel had to no avail, and recommended that Erik and Kaira be separated for safety reasons . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“I’ll have to talk with Uncle Morten about it,” Axel replied. “But I certainly would’ve gotten mad at her more than a few times if I were him.”

“I would’ve too,” Mr. Duncan said. “But he just seems to bear it, even if it does annoy him, but I don’t know if it does or not. He is one of the best guys we have, though, very teachable, very helpful, never complains, not even when he got splattered by one of the girls relieving herself, went right up on his face, it was gross. He washed his face off and commented that next time he’d pay more attention. Someone like Miss Phibbs or Porter or Stephens would’ve gotten mad and hit her, I think.”

“I’ve noticed that myself, to a degree,” Axel said. “He’s a really nice guy.”

“But that is my two cents on it,” Mr. Duncan said. “I’d actually been meaning to tell you about it for awhile already, but I kept forgetting once I was out of the barn, or when I saw you. Did someone else mention it?”

“No,” Axel replied. “I ended up in here the other day and talked to Erik when she came in with the makeup and the highlights and just behaving oddly, I wondered if it was just a one-off or not. Turns out it’s not.”

“Makeup and highlights?” Mr. Duncan asked.

“Yes, she’s wearing makeup, and she has highlights in her hair,” Axel replied.

“But she told us she’s not a girly girl who needs makeup to feel dressed,” Mr. Duncan said.

“My suspicion is that she’s attracted to him,” Axel said.

“Well so is my daughter,” Mr. Duncan replied.

“What?” Axel asked, startled.

“She came to bring me my lunch that I forgot the one day and ended up meeting him and she was still swooning over him when I got home from work,” Mr. Duncan said. “I told her he’s married, which deflated her a bit, but she then proceeded to declare that she wanted a guy as close to him as possible.”

“I mean, I’m not surprised that either of them would be attracted to him, he looks quite similar to me,” Axel said.

“I noticed that today,” Mr. Duncan said. “If it wouldn’t have been for the different outfits I would’ve been convinced Erik was moving awfully fast today.”

“And since I don’t have a hard time attracting women, I see no reason why he should,” Axel said.

“Good point,” Mr. Duncan said. 

“But I’ll have to ask Uncle Morten,” Axel said. “He manages much more of this than I do, so he’d be able to say why they were put together and whom they’d be better put with.”

“Erik would work well with anyone,” Mr. Duncan said. “He’s just flexible and willing to do anything, even the most menial jobs. You two found a good man in him.”