The Thrall (The Viking Hero Series Book 1) (11 page)

"Yes, I have to agree." Hakon pointed
out. "One of the bowmen hit the beast with arrows that had sharp
iron tips. When the iron embedded in the creature, it appeared to
hurt it."

"Yes my lord," Rowan recollected. "I
remember when I put my master Bjord's ax into the creature's back, it
appeared to have burned the creature and it struggled violently to
get it out of its back. That was when I seized the moment the first
time I escaped it. When it was struggling with the ax burning in its
back."

There was hushed muttering by the men in the hall,
all agreeing that the iron had most likely been the only thing to
have hurt the creature.

Jarl Erling stood up and addressed the Hall. "Men,
our village is plagued by a creature with the blood of many men on
its hands. We must resolve to find a way to destroy this thing and
rid ourselves of its curse before more from this village die."

Gwenda and her mother Helga arrived at the Hall's
door and entered just as the Jarl had made this statement.

Speaking across the Hall, she asked, "My
lord, what has been discovered about the fate of my son and husband?"

She knew in her heart that Rowan's story was true.
She had witnessed the hellish cat chasing the livestock. But in her
heart, she had hoped that they would find her husband and son merely
lost or injured and thus return them to her.

"Please, come sit." said the Jarl as he
motioned for his henchmen to fetch both the blacksmith's widow and
her mother a chair.

Gwenda and Helga made their way to the seats
provided by the Jarl's men and quietly sat down. She kept her gaze
upon the Jarl, waiting for him to deliver the news she knew he had
but did not want to hear.

"Madam," said the Jarl, "Dear widow
of the blacksmith, I have dire news. We have confirmed the thrall's
story to have been the truth. You husband and son are dead. I am
sorry."

Gwenda sank in her chair and began to weep. Helga
tried to comfort her. They had already been mentally prepared to
hear the bad news, but no amount of preparation can ready anyone to
actually hear it being said. She has lost her husband and has also
lost her only son. All the men of the household have perished. What
was to become of them.

She still had the thrall, but he was unfortunately
not trained in the art of blacksmithing. This was their livelihood
for generations. This was a disaster to her family.

Jarl Erling tried to offer her comfort by saying,
"Rest assured Madam, we will destroy the creature that killed
your husband and son."

"Thank you my lord," said Gwenda. "But
that won't replace him or our livelihood. Our thrall is now the only
male of the household and he is not trained as a blacksmith."

Overhearing her say this, Oleg, the karl that had
discovered Rowan when he originally returned, said, "I am truly
sorry for the lost of your husband and of your son, but I have made a
claim for finding the thrall when he was wandering outside of the
village without a master."

She was flabbergasted. She couldn't believe after
all that has happened, that this man had the gall to make such a
claim against her household and at a time like this.

Angrily she stood up facing the man. "How
dare you make a claim of property upon the death of my husband and
against my household!"

"I mean no disrespect," claimed Oleg.
"With the men of the household gone, the thrall is now without a
legal owner and he is not a freed man. Ownership was available to
whoever first claims him."

Gwenda defiantly pointed out, "my husband's
property belongs to his household which passes to me now by marital
right!"

The argument between them began to heat up until
Jarl Erling had to silence them and call for the lawspeaker to make a
legal decision on the matter.

"Lawspeaker, please recite the law of our
people on this matter so we may put this dispute to rest."
requested Jarl Erling.

Alvis the lawspeaker stood up and said, "It
has been the custom of our people for many generations before I
walked this Earth that when the father dies, the father's property
fell upon to that of the first born son. If the first born was
already dead, then it went to the next born son and so forth."

Oleg then pointed out, "The blacksmith
Bjord's only son had been killed, leaving no other heirs or sons to
claim the property because a wife does not inherit her husband's
property.

Bjord's brother, Thorn spoke up and said, "Then
the property would pass to the man's family. This would make the
thrall and the remaining property owned by Bjord now my property
because I was his brother and his only remaining male blood kin."

The lawspeaker corrected them by saying, "This
is true. However, when a son passes who has not yet become a man by
his own right, then he is a man child and a child's property goes to
the mother. So the thrall and the blacksmith's other properties that
had passed to his son the moment Bjord died will go to the mother."

"How can that be so, when they both died?"
protested Thorn.

"This is because the moment when Bjord died,
his son still lived. At that point, all of what was Bjord's became
that of Sven's. Then when Sven died, all that was Svens went to his
mother, Gwenda." clarified Alvis.

"That is nonsense!" objected Thorn.

"In accordance to the law as has been recited
by the lawspeaker," Jarl Erling declared. "All that was
Bjord's had became Svens and all that was Sven's became the property
of his mother Gwenda. The thrall and all of Bjord's that is now
Sven's is now the property of Gwenda. This is the law, there will be
no further arguments on it."

Oleg sat down hard upon a bench in disappointment,
but accepted the ruling. He had no choice. To go against the law as
recited by the lawspeaker and decreed by the Jarl would make him a
criminal.

Thorn, hoping to gain a thrall and his brother
bjord's properties stormed out of the hall without any further word.

'Woman, take claim of your thrall." said Jarl
Erling as he pointed to Rowan, whom had been standing there confused
as to what all just took place.

"Thank you, my lord."

Gwenda, assisting her mother, left the Hall with
Rowan gratefully following behind them.

Rowan wasn't sure of what all had just taken
place. Everything seemed to have gone by so very quickly in extremes.
Nevertheless, he was glad to be out of the Jarl's Hall. He was no
longer being accused of murder and no longer facing an almost certain
horrible death by execution.

Rowan laid in his bedding, which was essentially
nothing more than a sack made from scrap cloth stuffed with straw and
an old worn deer hide laid over it. But all things considered, it was
more comfortable than sleeping on a bench or on the ground.

He laid there lost in thought as he stared out the
open door into the curtain of darkness outside. It was a humid sticky
night and they'd left the door open to let the cooler breeze of the
night air come in.

It was relaxing to hear the nocturnal creatures at
night go about their nightly routines with the smell of the fresh
night breeze cleansing the stale air inside the building.

His thoughts raced through the events that had
passed over the past few days. Quite a bit had happened. Life
changing events that had forever changed how things would be from now
on. Not only was the household of which he belonged permanently
changed with a now uncertain future, but the line that divided what
was real and what was fantasy was also now blurred and obscured.

As Rowan stared outside he noticed a small pair of
eyes looking back at him from just outside the door in the darkness.

He was instantly alarmed by it and hastily sat up.
Rowan was afraid that perhaps the dead walker had returned in some
other form. Like it did when it showed up shape shifted as a cat. It
could perhaps be some other creature with ill intent as well. He had
no way of really knowing. He only knew that now he trusted nothing.

Rowan reached for his ax while still peering
outside at the eyes cloaked in the darkness. The reflection in the
eyes did not seem to be those of a critter, although by their size
and proximity to the ground, it had to be a small creature.

Armed with his ax, Rowan got out of his bed and
gingerly approached the door. He didn't want to wake anyone else up
in the house, in case it was just a woodland creature or some other
harmless critter looking to nip some food.

As he got closer to it, there was a degree of
familiarity about it. Yes, the eyes in the darkness were familiar to
him. Indeed the eyes were not those of a hare, lynx, or even a fox.

As soon as he stepped outside the door, he heard
it say, "come over here."

It was Tom Tay, that unusual creature that was in
the hallow with him.

He was unsure about this Tom character, but he did
save him from being discovered by the troll and Tom did lead him in
the right direction to get back to his village.

Tom noticed Rowan's hesitation as he stood in the
doorway pondering where to go out there or not.

"It's okay, come on out. I don't want to
disturb anyone in the house. We need to talk."

At this point, curiosity was what pushed Rowan out
the door. He walked outside and could see the outline of Tom hiding
in the shadows. Tom looked like a very, very small man. No taller
than a house cat or hare. This was very strange and made Rowan
extremely nervous. He'd never seen a man so small. What kind a
queer folk was Tom, he pondered.

"Why do you hide yourself?" asked Rowan.

"I don't think you're ready to gaze upon me,"
replied Tom. "The sight of me may frighten you and that is not
my intent."

"I don't think I would be frightened,"
said Rowan bravely. "Especially after the things I've seen
recently." he pointed out.

"Ah yes, your problem with the drauger. That
is why I have called upon you this very night." said Tom. "and
it's not just your problem, but a problem to your whole village."

Rowan thought about this for a moment and nodded
in agreement.

'But it's not just you and your village's problem,
it's a problem with all the creatures and beings in the forest as
well." Tom added.

"What do you mean?" Rowan asked,

"This thing is a horrible creature that
causes havoc and death to not only your people but to other things
that are nature in the forest. It is an unnatural abomination that
needs to be put to rest and I think you are just the person to do
it."

"Oh no," said Rowan "I barely
escaped with my life on both accounts of dealing with it. Both times
I survived my encounters with it were nothing short of pure luck, I
might add."

"Yes, but that is only because you went about
it all wrong. There is something you don't know about it. That
creature, like many unseen beings, has a great weakness to it."

"What do you mean, are you like the dead
walker?

"No, not even close. But there is something
about it that we do share in common and that is a great weakness to
iron."

"Iron? Why iron?" inquired Rowan.

"It's a very long story as to why, but do
know that iron burns us. We can't stand it. It has something to with
its unnaturalness. It is why I never enter the longhouse of your
master. He is a blacksmith and there are bits of iron from his trade
everywhere. Even the scent of it is foul to me and my kind. It is
foul to me now as I speak to you near it."

"But the dead walker entered this longhouse,
when it tried to kill me and then ran off the sheep." Rowan
pointed out.

"Yes, that was very unusual. It must have
been very determined to enter. At first I thought it might be as
immune to iron as mankind is, but then I seen that it was hurt by
iron. When you stuck the ax into it. It wasn't the ax blow that hurt
it, but the fact that there was iron embedded in its flesh. The ax's
iron head burned it as did the arrows that had iron tips on them."

"I did notice that, but I wasn't sure what
caused it. The iron seemed to burn it as if it was red hot from the
forge."

"Yes and that is how you will be able to
defeat it."

"Defeat it? Like I mentioned, I barely
escaped with my life ...twice. There is no way I intend to face it
again. That beast killed trained warriors, some of the Jarl's best
men and they were armed with iron weapons as well."

"You are right, you won't be able to defeat
it directly in combat. It is too strong." Tom said.

Rowan interrupted him by reiterating, "I have
no plans on battling or defeating it. My plan is to never go into the
cursed forest ever again. I plan to avoid it the best as I can."

"You don't have a choice, Rowan. That
creature has its mindset on you and everyone in this village. It
won't stop until it kills each and everyone of you. Especially you.
It seeks vengeance on you. You have to put an end to it, before it
ends you."

"Why, what did I do to it?" Rowan
gasped, "I'm just a thrall."

"You are not just a mere thrall, Rowan of
Juteland, Son of Ingvald." said Tom.

Rowan had never heard his name in such a title
before. He was always, 'Rowan the thrall' or simply, the thrall.

"You have a destiny that you do not even know
of yet. You do not know who you are or where you come from. You were
not just a discovered orphan that was placed into servitude as a
thrall. You were made as a thrall to hide you and your identity until
the time had come for you to know who you are." Tom explained.

Rowan laughed at this notion and then said, "Now
that I hear the name Ingvald, I do remember that my father's name was
Ingvald. But I do not believe that I am anybody of any significance.
I have always been just a thrall."