Читать книгу The Northlander - John E. Elias - Страница 5

“So,” the fat man laughed as he continued to wipe the already spotless bar. “Did you create a lot of mischief?”

Björn responded somewhat wearily. “Gibbons, why do I tolerate you? How about I just put a sword through you and make Wudo owner of this decrepit tavern?” While speaking, he gestured toward a slow-moving young man sweeping the worn wood floor.

Gibbons colored a bit, showing he was at least a little taken aback, but pressed on, “I guess it is because you find me so lovable, Northlander. Or perhaps it is because everyone passes here at some time and I know all of them.”

The tavern keeper reached behind him and brought forth a sheaf of papers. Some were full sheets of clean, quality paper; some where on dirty and wrinkled scraps. “What would you do without me, Northlander? I am the only person you know who enjoys your company!”

Gibbons handed the papers to Björn, who dropped a gold piece into his waiting palm. “You must be popular. So many messages and so many people wanting you. You must be more likable than I realized.” He laughed loudly at his own humor. “Or is it that you have friends other than me and Wudo?”

Wudo looked up from his sweeping and grinned broadly.

Björn weaved his way through the tables crowded into the room until he came to a bench at a far table. Sitting with his back to the wall, he began reading his messages.

Gibbons, knowing that Björn never drank alcohol, shouted across the room with pseudo generosity, “Can I get you a drink?” Being ignored did not faze him. “The fancy leather pouch is from a king. He wants you to guard his daughter! You have never worked for a princess before. Choose that one and I will give you instructions on how to behave around royalty.” He stepped from behind the bar and skipping nimbly gave a sweeping swing of his arms. “This way, your Björn-ess.” Gibbons guffawed at his own joke.

“Perhaps someone should teach you not to open other people’s messages,” scowled Björn, pulling a long letter from the already opened, ornately adorned leather pouch. Before looking at the message, he examined the pouch.

“Never saw anything so fancy, have you?” Gibbons exclaimed. “He should be able to pay a lot if he can spend that much on the message pouch. Maybe there will be enough gold for the two of us. Anyone who works for a princess must have a manservant, and I will happily be your manservant if the price is right.”

The Northlander tried without success to suppress a grin. “You had best bring along that big club you stash behind the bar for quieting rowdies. Since I am to be a gentlemen mingling with royalty, I will leave it to you to fight the warlocks, ogres, wild beasts and monsters. It would be unbecoming for a dandy like me to engage in such mundane activities.”

Gibbons flexed his muscles jokingly as he straightened his big frame. “So long as those warlocks, ogres, wild beasts and monsters are small and weak, and the pay is right, I think I can handle the job. So, is that the job you are going to take?”

“I will have to look at the rest of these messages before I decide.” Björn sighed. “Perhaps I should stay here for awhile and keep Wudo entertained.”

The young man gave Björn a broad, vacant smile and replied, “Wudo be glad to play with you, Mr. Northlander.”

Giving a visible shudder at the thought, Gibbons said sarcastically, “With you sitting around here with your happy face, I would not have a single customer left within a week. Pick one of those jobs and go somewhere—wreck the countryside!”

Ignoring Gibbons, Björn continued reading through the messages. One was from a wealthy merchant wanting his protection during a long and dangerous trading journey. In another, a baron was requesting him to serve as his bodyguard. There was a plea from a mother asking him to bring back her only son who had been conscripted into an army. A rich landowner wanted him to evict unlawful homesteaders from his land. Some monks were desperate to retrieve the gold, silver and jeweled religious icons stolen by brigands who had stormed and plundered their monastery.

Björn glanced away from the messages, picking up the pouch from the king. It jingled, and he turned the pouch upside down, dropping five gold pieces onto the table. Looking up at Gibbons with his eyes twinkling, he said, “I wonder where the rest of them are.”

“I knew you would say that so I added three to the pouch,” Gibbons said.

Björn laughed at the thought of the barkeeper giving money away, but he also knew Gibbons would not steal from him.

Reading the message, Björn was even more intrigued. King Brewster reigned over the kingdom of Kallthom. He had promised his daughter’s hand in marriage to the elderly king of Carigo. Carigo was a far distance across the plains from Kallthom, and between Kallthom and Carigo was the kingdom of Delph, a kingdom Kallthom had been at war with for centuries. The marriage of King Brewster’s daughter to Carigo’s king would form an alliance between the two kingdoms that would give Kallthom the upper hand so Kallthom could finally defeat the Delphs. King Brewster proposed to send his army to surround the princess and Björn, keeping the Delphs away from them all through the journey. He needed Björn to act as the princess’ personal protector.

While not sympathetic to the purpose of the request, Björn was fascinated by the thought of working for a king. He had never even met a king. Speculating about the young princess, he wondered why she would agree to a marriage that would take her so many miles from her home, especially marriage to an elderly king.

He tapped the edge of the message pouch on the table, musing, “At least I can meet these proud people before deciding.” He imagined he would most likely refuse, for he had no interest in helping them win a centuries-old war.

Rising, he walked to the bar and dropped all but the ornate pouch in front of Gibbons, along with another gold piece.

“Wudo,” he asked, “Do you think you can find the king of Kallthom for me?”

The lad trotted to him, nodding his head vigorously. “Yes,” he said enthusiastically, “yes, I find him, Mr. Björn.”

Björn wrote quickly on the back of the king’s letter, stuffed it back into the pouch and handed it to Wudo, placing two gold coins in his outstretched hand. “Find him as fast as you can, and do not get lost!”

Wudo raced up the stairs to his sleeping quarters to begin packing.

Watching Wudo charge up the stairs, Gibbons said, “I know the lad is simple, Björn, but he is a good reliable boy. He will deliver your message.” He broke into a wide grin. “So! You are going to work for a king! I promise we will treat you with the respect you deserve when you return. We will clean up this tavern and even whitewash the outside! We will have the ground in front swept clean. Wudo and I will even wear fancy uniforms!”

Björn smiled ever so slightly and slipped silently through the door without responding.

In Kallthom, King Brewster paced the floor with heavy, jerky steps. His typically florid face was redder than usual, and anger radiated from every movement of his large body. While given to fits of quick anger and sudden violence, he rarely maintained that anger. Usually, his mood was boisterous and full of humor. To him, life was to be embraced, lived, loved and enjoyed. Otherwise, what was it worth? But he did not enjoy this kind of anger, which promised to be slow in passing.

Rathe, King Brewster’s son, was alone in the opulent study with his father. Lounging in an overstuffed chair, Rathe regarded his father with love and trust, but primarily with silent laughter, somewhat as a loving, indulgent parent might look upon a beautiful spoiled child throwing a tantrum.

King Brewster crashed his huge fist down on the massive desk. “This man should have been here at least three weeks ago—where is he? His man said he would be here soon. Before he arrives, that old king in Carigo could be dead! How can Aleanna marry a corpse?” He continued his frustrated pacing.

Despite King Brewster’s behavior, his mood was more than anger it was fear. He had never been fearful in battle; on the contrary, he reveled in fighting. With his big body, incredible strength and considerable fighting skills, he had often led his men into victorious battle. But this was different; he had decisions to make, and decisions that involved the safety of his daughter frightened him. Even though he was still a powerful man, his once heavily muscled body had deteriorated somewhat with age. He feared he might not live many more years, and death seemed nearer. He had never contemplated his own death—in reality, he rarely contemplated anything. He was a man of action, not a man of thought. Now, at this time in his life, when he needed to depend on his wits, he felt unprepared.

King Brewster dearly loved his two children. He loved them more than hunting—which was his passion—and even more than battle. Their mother died when they were very young, and even though governesses, nurses, and later servants were the primary caregivers of Prince Rathe and Princess Aleanna, the three were very close. Their relationship was more as siblings than father and children. Certainly, he had spoiled them, but he devoted a great deal of time to them. Either because of—or in spite of—his parenting, both grew into fine young adults of whom he was enormously proud. His fear now was that, when his children needed him most, he would be least prepared to help them. At his age, it was even possible he might not be alive to protect them. It never occurred to him that their roles had reversed in recent years. Now it was they who looked after and protected him, usually from himself.

Smashing the table again, sending reverberations around the room, the king shouted, “Why not simply fight and be done with it as we have always done?” His coarse voice betrayed his anguish and frustration.

Rathe was taller than his father but without the bulk. He was quick-witted; both children took after their mother in that respect. Rathe assumed his father’s rare bad mood was out of concern for his sister. He soothed, “Surely he will be here soon, Father. It is a long journey. We have heard the Northlander always keeps his word.”

Only slightly soothed, but at least a decibel quieter, his father whined, “But he should be here. We should be on the road.”

Shouts from the courtyard below propelled Rathe to the window. After observing the activity for a moment, he announced with his usual calm, “I believe the Northlander has arrived.”

Despite his age, physical condition and faltering agility, King Brewster took the steps down to the courtyard two and three at a time, Rathe following at his normal quick pace. With a flushed face, the king burst breathlessly into the courtyard. The crowd gathered around the stranger and his horse immediately parted to make way for their ruler.

The Northlander watered Jago at the well, seemingly unaware of the excited crowd. With little fanfare, he turned to Brewster and said, “I am Björn, the Northlander. This is my friend Jago. You sent for me?”

The king’s red face, made redder by his race down the stairs, turned a deep shade of rose. He tried to talk, but only sputtered. The stranger before him was average height and slender, barely more than half the size of the king.

Rathe, far more perceptive than most people, saw immediately that this was no ordinary man. There was nothing overtly unique about him except his dark eyes and his charcoal gray hair. But Rathe sensed something extraordinary about him. The man seemed to radiate danger, similar to a coiled snake that is motionless but prepared to strike.

When Brewster finally recovered his voice, he shouted, “I sent for a warrior, not a boy-sized man!”

The townspeople laughed. The king moved closer until he was towering over the stranger. “Is this a trick? A joke? Well, I tell you right now that this is not funny!” He moved menacingly toward the stranger.

Rathe caught his father by the arm and halted him. “Let us hear what he has to say, Father. There is no harm in talking to him.” Rathe’s instincts told him that while his father was an extremely formidable fighter, he would be less than a match against this hawk-faced stranger with his penetrating eyes.

Björn spoke in common language, but with an unusual accent. “Southlanders frequently fail to accept me as a warrior on first sight. Do you wish me to demonstrate that I am the Northlander for whom you sent? Do you require me to prove that I am capable of doing the job you brought me here to do?”

Brewster bellowed, “And how do you think you might prove that?”

Softly, Björn asked, “Do you have a sword?”

“Of course,” snarled the king, even more loudly.

“Will you please have your sword brought forward?”

Brewster turned to his son, saying gruffly, “Rathe, get my sword.”

It was apparent Rathe did not want to get the sword, especially to confront this stranger. But he shrugged, knowing it was useless to argue with his father, who was obviously determined to make a fool of this man.

Rathe took his time about returning with his father’s huge sword. The sword was almost five feet long, five inches wide, and two inches thick in the middle, with extremely sharp edges. It took a man of Brewster’s size and strength to wield such a sword. In fact, his sword smith had custom-made this sword for him years ago.

Grabbing the heavy sword from Rathe, Brewster swung it lightly into the air and asked Björn, “Now, do we fight to prove you are a warrior? I guess it will not cost me anything if I kill you here and now!”

The familiar cynical smile barely creased Björn’s lips as he turned from the king and walked slowly to his horse. Sliding a long, thin sword from its sheath, he returned with the sword in one hand and a black cloth in the other.

The king laughed. “A shrimp of a warrior comes with a shrimp of a sword! And to think I waited a month for you!”

Björn stepped up to Rathe and handed him the cloth. “Blindfold me,” he said.

Rathe did as instructed and tied the cloth tightly over the stranger’s eyes.

“Not over my ears. I must be able to hear,” said Björn, adjusting the blindfold away from his ears, “Are you satisfied that I cannot see?”

“Is this some kind of foolish trick?” the king roared.

Interjecting, Rathe said to his father, “I do not think it is a trick. I am satisfied that he cannot see.”

Taking several steps toward Brewster, Björn stopped directly in front of him. “Now, try to touch me with your sword.”

The king seemed reluctant to play such a game, but then he extended his sword quickly in an attempt to touch the stranger on the ankle. Before the sword touched his ankle, Björn casually brushed it away with his own sword.

“Surely that was not your best thrust?” mocked Björn.

Even though Brewster was angry, it wasn’t his nature to hurt another person without reason. He slowly and gently raised his sword, extending it to attempt to touch Björn’s shoulder. Again, with no apparent effort, Björn flicked the sword away at the last moment. He teased again, “How can I show you what a real warrior can do if you paw at me like a baby?”

Sputtering, Brewster fought harder, getting the same result. He began to put serious energy into his attempts.

Björn continued to knock his sword away. The king began to rain blows on his opponent and each time, Björn flicked his sword away at the last moment. Brewster finally grabbed his sword with both hands and began to swing in arcs parallel to the ground. Björn swept them harmlessly away.

Brewster’s breath came faster until he was furiously panting. He hurled himself forward and attacked with all his strength, swinging blows from every direction, aiming at any and every part of Björn’s body. Try as he might, he could not touch him with his sword. Finally, he stopped, sword upraised.

Björn took the initiative in the uneven duel. Faster than an eye could follow, his sword struck the king’s sword slightly above the hilt. Björn’s thin sword cut cleanly through Brewster’s heavy weapon, and the blade fell to the ground with a clatter.

Björn removed the blindfold.

Between gasping breaths, the king demanded, “How did you do that?” Then with more sincerity, “No matter. You have proved your point. You have proven you are the man I sent for.” Crestfallen, he muttered, “Why did you have to ruin my favorite sword?”

Björn wasn’t finished. “If you do not mind, I would like to show you one more trick.” Pointing into the courtyard, he asked, “Of the three bowmen standing guard across the way, which is your best bowman?”

“Strom, the one in the middle,” muttered the king.

“Strom!” shouted Björn, “do you think you could hit me with an arrow from that distance? You may move closer if you must.”

“I can hit you in the gizzard from here if that is what you want,” responded the bowman.

Björn turned directly toward the bowman, touching his chest near his heart. “Try to hit me here if you can.”

Strom turned his open hands to the king and silently expressed his refusal.

“Do it!” commanded Björn. “I promise you will have no better luck than did the king with his sword.”

“Do it!” shouted Brewster.

Strom drew his bow and notched an arrow.

“Wait a moment,” said Björn, holding up his hand. He asked Rathe to bring over the blindfold. “You know what to do.”

Again Rathe placed the blindfold over his eyes. Björn stepped away from everyone, faced the bowman and shouted, “Now, Strom, do your very best!”

Strom bent the bow, aimed and released the arrow in one expert motion. The arrow flew true, directly at Björn’s heart. Björn caught the arrow in flight just before it reached him. He removed the blindfold and handed the arrow to Brewster.

With no emotion showing on his face, Björn said slowly, “Now, Sir Brewster, King of Kallthom, am I fit to do your job?”

The king nodded with a loud guffaw and wrapped his long arm around Björn’s shoulder. “You will do, I suppose,” he said.

At his father’s direction, Rathe gave Björn a tour of the castle. The Northlander noted that it was old but well maintained. Its dual purpose was to provide living quarters for the royal family and their court, and to defend them while they were in residence.

The castle sat in the middle of a village. It was square and surrounded by a towering rock wall as tall as six men. The wall was about one-half as wide at the base as it was tall. At the top was a walkway wide enough for four men to walk abreast. The walkway had a wall on the outside slightly taller than a man and about the width of two men. Along the wall were broken intervals, or ports, for guards to observe anyone approaching. Two towers with open windows rose from the corners and in the center of each side. Sloping staircases of stone, wide enough for at least twenty soldiers marching abreast, reached from the courtyard to the center of the adjacent wall. Björn found it quite impressive.

Later, they ate in a small intimate dining room. Björn was pleased that Brewster saw no need to impress him by dining in one of the great halls he had seen earlier. He thought it showed the down-to-earth attitude of the man.

Dinner was very informal. Brewster sat at the head of the elegant table in a high-backed chair that would have dwarfed an ordinary man. As their guest, Björn sat at the opposite end of the table in a chair of equal magnitude. Prince Rathe, Princess Aleanna and three of the king’s advisors were at the table.

Princess Aleanna had been briefly introduced to Björn prior to dinner. Björn thought her to be very mature for her age. Having no previous experience with royalty, he had expected a spoiled and pampered child. What he met was a tall, slender, attractive self-confident young woman. His original feelings were that she might be too much of a handicap on the trip and had that been the case, he would have rejected the job. He idly wondered what Brewster’s reaction would have been if he had.

Among the meats served from heavy, finely hewn wooden bowls were beef, pork, mutton, and wild game, along with a variety of fresh vegetables and fruits. Dining was a boisterous affair; the guests all talked at once, but Brewster was the loudest. Björn, quiet by nature, observed that Rathe joined in some of the revelry, but the princess did not.

Princess Aleanna demurely studied Björn. Very perceptive, she was perplexed by the affinity she felt for this man. He was like no one she had ever met. Even while he ate, she noticed that he had not a wasted motion. He did not initiate any conversation and spoke only briefly when spoken to. At the same time, she noticed that he seemed to be aware of everything around him.

She decided he was not a handsome man. His hawk-like features precluded that, but she found him oddly attractive. Part of it, she thought, was the contrast between his gray hair and his youthful face. While not young, he certainly wasn’t old; in fact, he seemed to be in the prime of life.

Occasionally he returned her gaze, and she found herself blushing and looking away. But when she thought his attention had moved on, she continued to stare at him, fascinated by his dark, penetrating eyes and the way they changed color. They changed from charcoal to blue to green and back to dark gray. She didn’t know if it was the light, his mood or if he did it on purpose. Whatever the reason, she felt captivated by them. Fleetingly, she was afraid she was making a fool of herself by staring, but she couldn’t help it. She was also afraid of what she must be communicating to this stranger.

While the king roared, even with food in his mouth, Björn noticed that the prince and princess showed better manners. He wondered if that was from the influence of their mother, whom he learned had died when they were young; it was certainly not from the king. The kitchen maids brought in more filled bowls as the food disappeared. As was his custom, Björn ate sparingly, sampling the meat dishes and consuming some of each of the vegetables and fruits offered.

At the conclusion of the meal, the king ordered the servants to clear the table. Björn noticed that while they acted quickly to remove the remnants of the meal, they did not seem to be at all intimidated by the bark of their king. It was apparent that there was great rapport between the royalty and the servants. Shortly, the kitchen maids returned with mugs of ale and a plate of cheeses.

“Well, Northlander,” Brewster began, “we should be ready to leave in a few days, as it will take some time to assemble our army again.” With a scowling voice, he berated his guest, “We tried to be ready for your arrival, but had to send our men home to work their farms when you took so long to get here.”

Björn gave no indication that he noticed the implied criticism. He watched wordlessly as the King arose and picked up some clean ale mugs from the sideboard.

“Here we are,” he said, placing a mug in front of him, “and this is Carigo.” He indicated its location with another mug. “And here is Delph.” He placed a mug between the other two. “We will have to fight our way through Delph’s army to get to Carigo. Your job is to stay with Aleanna at all times. We will have our best men close to her also, but you will be responsible for her safety.” He frowned. “I do not like taking our army into the plains against the Delphs, but we do not have a choice. We will group soldiers into an arrow formation with Aleanna and you in the center. When you have a chance to get through, you will go on. When we see you are safe, we will withdraw.”

Brewster looked expectantly at Björn, who sat quietly, his hands clasped in front of him and his eyes staring down at the table in front of him.

The king couldn’t take the silence. “Well, what do you think of our plan? Can you protect Aleanna? Of course, we will have to choose a horse for you. That pony of yours cannot keep up.”

Björn ignored the comment about Jago, and finally looked up at Brewster. “I can see that you have given this a great deal of thought. Have you also considered how many men you will lose in the battle? Do you realize how much this will weaken your defenses, leaving the Kallthom castle vulnerable to the Delphs if they defeat you on the plains?”

Hitting the table and bouncing the mugs, Brewster bellowed, “They will not defeat us!”

“Perhaps not,” replied Björn, “but you will suffer severe losses. That will leave your army weakened if the Delphs decide to attack your castle.”

Brewster responded quickly. “We have thought of that. Of course we do not like the possibility of that happening, but uniting with Carigo will enable us to easily defeat the Delphs. It is worth the risk. Anyway, that is not your concern. Your job is to escort my daughter safely to Carigo, not to protect our castle.”

The two men glared at one another, measuring each other’s resolve. It was painfully quiet for several moments.

When Björn spoke again, shoulders forward and eyes probing into Brewster’s, it was with disapproval. “The reason I took longer than you expected to get to Kallthom was because I was exploring the safest and best options for getting Aleanna to Carigo,” he said. “I will not take the risk of trying to guard your daughter in the midst of a battle because too many things can happen—we cannot be sure she and I would not get separated. I cannot accept the responsibility for her safety when events along the way are out of my control.”

The king stared open-mouthed at the Northlander, and Rathe seemed puzzled. Aleanna surprisingly looked disappointed, and Brewster’s advisors all began shouting accusations.

“Why did you bother to come here if you were not going to take the job we offered?” shouted one of the them.

When they had quieted, Björn spoke again, “I was not simply wasting my time while you were waiting for me. I traveled through the plains from Kallthom to Carigo, studying the layout of the land carefully.”

“So do you have a better plan?” asked Rathe.

“I have a plan that I believe gives us a better chance of getting Aleanna safely to Carigo. We will cross the mountains you call the Ice Mountains and travel behind the Delph plains.”

The king drew an audible gasped, then yelled, “You are insane! No one can cross those mountains!”

An advisor added loudly, “Even if you could, there are monsters on the other side!”

Confidently, Björn spoke again. “You are mistaken about crossing the mountains, because I crossed them, and here I am. You are correct about the monsters; they do exist in the mountains, plains and forests on the other side. In addition to the monsters, there are brigands and other dangers, but I found nothing that would stop us from reaching Carigo.”

Astonished silence met Björn’s statement, then the king and his advisors all began to shout at once. Rathe and Aleanna did not say a word. They studied Björn in silence.

Rathe finally asked, “How many soldiers do you plan to accompany you?”

Björn answered, knowing that his answer would not be well accepted, “Soldiers will not be necessary. The Princess and I will travel alone.”

“You are absolutely insane,” Brewster wailed. “There is no way I will allow you to take my daughter unescorted by our army.”

Again, silence reigned, and everyone looked at the Northlander.

Finally Rathe spoke. “Are you certain you can reach Carigo safely by crossing the mountains?”

The Northlander replied forcefully, “Nothing is ever certain. There are grave dangers involved in taking this route around the mountains and passing behind Delph, but I still believe it is far less dangerous than attempting to take the princess through a battle on the plains. I am more than willing to escort the princess to Carigo, but not through a pitched battle between your soldiers and the Delphs.”

Again the room resounded with shouted objections. Rathe finally quieted his father and his advisors by saying, “We know the Northlander’s reputation. He is renowned as the best. By demonstrating what he did outside in the courtyard, I am convinced that he is the man to direct this expedition. I am convinced that he should take the back route, over the mountains. I only insist on one change in the plan. I will accompany Björn and Aleanna. However, the final decision is yours to make, Father.”

Everyone looked toward Brewster. He looked anguished and in emotional turmoil, his eyes on his daughter as he attempted to absorb Rathe’s suggestion. Finally he said, “I left it to you to decide upon the marriage, but I cannot leave this decision to you, Aleanna.”

Aleanna replied calmly, “I have complete faith in the Northlander, Father. We should follow his advice.”

In a much softer tone, Brewster said, “We shall rest on this. It may look different in the morning.”

The meeting broke up, and Aleanna showed Björn to his room. It was large and most pleasant, with a blazing fire in a huge fireplace that warmed the room. Björn was not aware that Aleanna had prepared the room herself. For reasons not apparent even to her, she had wanted to make a good impression on him.

As she prepared to leave the room, setting a small lamp on the table beside the bed, she asked, “Will this be satisfactory?”

Björn gave an appreciative glance around the room. “This is real luxury for me. I usually sleep on the ground!” Then, with penetrating eyes, he said softly, “As a princess, you are not anything like I expected.”

Aleanna, blushing, answered, “How many daughters of kings have you known? How would you know what to expect of a princess?”

He brightened with an elusive smile and barely audible chuckle. “You are the first princess I have ever known, but from what I have heard about royal families, I expected a spoiled young girl, weak and frail.”

“So,” she teased, “do you naturally assume that I am just a spoiled princess who is weak and frail?”

“No,” Björn assured her. “You seem to be a mature and confident young woman, capable of taking care of yourself. I honestly expected you to be a burden. Your brother also impresses me as a formidable warrior, which is more than I expected of a prince.”

Feeling that propriety demanded that she make her exit, a blushing Aleanna bid him good night. While seldom concerned with propriety, she did not want Björn to think ill of her.

Later, at her dressing table, Aleanna brushed her hair, something she rarely asked her personal maid to do. She preferred attending to her personal needs because it allowed her rare private time to think. As she brushed slowly through her hair, she thought of the Northlander. What a unique man! She recalled blushing in his presence, and she couldn’t recall blushing since she was a very young girl. Why did she find him so fascinating? She really knew very little about him, yet she trusted him instinctively. Were the tales she heard about him true? One tale said he prevailed in battle against twenty soldiers. Why did she have this sense of security that she would be safe with him in any situation and any circumstance? Why did she feel his respect when they had first met?

Finally putting her brush aside, she slipped into bed, still thinking of this unusual man, the Northlander Björn. She decided she would have time to learn more about him in the days ahead. Turning on her side, she pulled the down-filled blanket around her and fell into a peaceful sleep.

In the morning, after Aleanna had bathed and dressed herself, again without the attendance of her personal maid, she walked to the stables and found Björn grooming his horse. She walked up casually and commented, “You are up early.”

“I need little sleep,” said Björn, “I came here to spend some time with Jago. He is not accustomed to confinement and is not very comfortable in a stable. I keep telling him it will not be long and we will be out in the open again.”

Aleanna asked, “His name is Jago?”

“Yes,” Björn answered, “I named him when we were very young—shortly after we first met.”

“What do you mean?” she asked. “How do you meet a horse?”

“I think we were looking for each other.” Smiling, he continued, “We were both much younger, in the Northland. We were both learning to survive pretty much on our own.”

She started to touch Jago, who stood quite still and tense. “You trained him well.”

“Do not try to touch him,” Björn cautioned, and she drew back. “He does not know you. And I did not train him. Rather I won his trust and confidence. He seems to just enjoy my company.”

Björn smoothed his hand over Jago’s back. “This horse probably is much different to me than your animals are to you. We are more like partners. He does what I ask only because he wants to, not because I could ever force him to perform. And, of course, I usually do what he wants.”

Aleanna leaned against a stall. “He must be very intelligent.

“I think Jago is much smarter than me,” Björn responded.

Aleanna continued to study Jago. “He seems small for a warrior’s horse, but very muscular. I imagine this horse can run all day long without tiring,” she said. She glanced at Björn. “We should go up and have some breakfast, then while my father and his advisors are arguing about the plan to get me to Carigo, let us come back and I will give you a tour of the castle lands. Would you like that?”

Enthusiastically, Björn replied, “I would like that very much.”

When they entered the castle for breakfast, they heard the king and his advisors continuing their loud discussion about the plan to escort the princess to Carigo. Aleanna placed her hand softly on Björn’s shoulder and said, “We must not allow them to ruin our morning.” She led him into a small dining area, where she addressed one lone servant. “Please bring in some breakfast for Björn and me.” As she led him to a small table, she said, “We can have our breakfast here in peace.” A servant almost immediately brought fresh coffee, breads, eggs and an assortment of breakfast meats and fresh fruits.

When the princess and Björn finished eating, Aleanna asked him to go on to the stables and wait for her while she donned her riding apparel.

When Björn arrived at the stables, there were two castle horses saddled and waiting. He wanted to take Jago out because he had been confined in the stable since their arrival, but would do as Aleanna wished. When she arrived, dressed in knee-high black boots, black trousers and a tan man’s shirt, she walked to the sleek gray mare. Stroking the mare’s neck, she said, “I selected this mare as my own because I was there at her birth.”

Jago’s head was reaching out over the stable gates. Björn took the reins of the horse the stable boy had selected for him to ride and finally, with an apologetic tone asked, “Can Jago come with us? I mentioned before how he hates to be confined.”

Aleanna, with true understanding, said, “Yes, of course. I am sure you would prefer to give him some freedom. You may ride your own horse if you like.”

Björn answered, “No. I rarely ride Jago; he prefers to walk beside me.”

Björn and Aleanna rode out side by side, and she began pointing out distinct things about the village as they rode into the countryside. Small unique homes and outbuildings dotted the landscape, with wood and stone fencing marking off homesteads and pastures.

After they rode a small distance, Björn stopped and turned back to study the castle.

“Is there something wrong?” Aleanna followed his gaze, as if expecting to see some attacker coming at them.

“No, nothing is wrong,” Björn answered, “I was noting how similar Kallthom Castle is to others I have seen. Almost all of the defenses are at the front of the castle where the rolling land comes up from the plains. There are few defense areas at the back of the castle. Your father counts on those rough hills to keep it protected. If I were to attack your castle, I would feint at the front, but send my major forces around and attack from the back.”

In a worried tone, Aleanna asked, “Do you really believe an army could get close enough to the castle to attack from the rear undetected?”

Björn didn’t want to cause her anxiety but felt compelled to reply. “By moving at night and with the distraction of a fake attack from the front, I think it is very possible.”

“I will definitely tell my father of this possibility,” she said, “but, as usual, I doubt he will listen.”

As they continued their leisurely ride through the countryside, Aleanna pointed out the numerous small hamlets, where small stores, sawmills and other businesses provided inhabitants with jobs and made the hamlets as self-sufficient as possible. She explained that the people were all free to own their own land, as long as they paid their taxes and served in the Kallthom army when necessary. She explained that the kingdom’s inhabitants had the usual complaints, but she thought, in general, that they were a fairly happy and contented community.

As they passed through one small hamlet, a handsome young man at the sawmill gave Aleanna a big smile and a knowing wink. Blushing, she tried to avoid his glance, remembering an afternoon when the two of them rolled in the hay in the young man’s family barn. She knew Björn was probably a man who rarely missed anything, and she was sure he noticed the byplay between the two of them. Her cheeks colored even more at what he must be thinking. Here she barely knew the man and he was assuming a place of importance in her thoughts.

The riders and Jago topped a hill that provided a back view to the castle and a forward view of the hamlets upcoming. As they paused to enjoy the view, Aleanna asked, “Why did you leave your home in the Northland?”

Björn hesitated a moment before replying. “I had no real home there. The land is hard and unforgiving, and the soil is poor for growing food and crops. The land can only provide for a certain number of people, so some of us must go and make our way in other lands. I am only one of many who left.”

“Why does a man become a mercenary?” she asked.

“When we leave the Northland, we are highly skilled warriors, as you saw. I am as equally skilled with a bow as with a sword. It is the most appropriate occupation available to us.”

“But I have heard such horrible things about mercenaries.”

Björn looked into her eyes for such a long moment that she became uncomfortable. Finally, he looked away and answered, “It is a profession for honorable individuals. Mercenaries are in great need, but there are too few honorable ones. I consider myself a mercenary who behaves honorably.”

Considering his reply, she ventured on, “You must lead a very exciting life.”

Taking some time again to think on her statement, Björn said, “For the most part, it is not so exciting. There are times of battle and fighting, but they are few and far between. Most of it is rather boring.”

“Well, if it is so boring,” she uttered with amazement, “why do you do it?”

“Oh,” he said with a half-smile, “There is some excitement, it pays well, and I am very good at it, but it is not as adventuresome as you would think.” He turned to face her squarely. “But what about you, Princess? As I told you before, you are not what I expected.”

Demurely lowering her eyes, she asked, “And how am I so different?” She raised her eyes to meet his.

“I do not know.” He gazed at her intently, and she was caught up in his look. “I thought that a young princess with numerous servants to attend her every need would not be quite like you. You do so many things for yourself. Most surprising is the way you ride.” He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, so he averted his eyes and looked out over the castle lands. “You are truly an excellent horsewoman and you carry a sword and bow. While I have not observed your use of these weapons, you are obviously no stranger to them. I did not expect the daughter of a king to be a woman warrior!”

“Of course you know,” she said, “my mother died when I was born. I was wet-nursed by a servant and she lovingly mothered me until I could walk. My father did not know much about raising a girl. I tagged along after him and Rathe until they got so tired of me falling off horses and cutting myself on the weapons that they began teaching me how to ride and use the sword.” She laughed. “It was much more fun than doing women’s things!”

Björn asked, “Does he let you go into battle?”

“We have not had any real battles since I was born. There are skirmishes in the countryside occasionally, but no real fighting. If there was a battle, I am sure the old fogies would try to keep me out of it,” she teased, tossing her head and sending her black hair flying. “What do you think of women fighting?”

Björn hesitated. “For my people, there are no distinctions made between men and women when it comes to fighting. I have been among other people of other lands where it is also common. In most countries, though, the men go out fighting and hunting while the women stay home cooking and having babies.”

“The women of Kallthom stay home cooking and having babies. But that is not for me,” Aleanna said forcefully. “What about those lands where the women fight? Who looks after the children?”

“The old men and women. They also do the cooking and cleaning. In these cultures, the women are treated equal to the men.”

“How about other cultures?”

“I guess they are pretty much like they are here.”

“You mean the man is the boss and takes a switch to the woman’s backside if she does not do what he says.”

“I am afraid that is the way it is.”

They were quiet for a bit as they walked their horses, but Björn had to ask, “If you will pardon me for asking, why are you marrying an old man?”

“You have to understand that Delph is constantly absorbing more and more of the nomadic tribes of the desert,” Aleanna said, her brow furrowing. “They grow stronger and have been instigating more and more skirmishes. When they feel they are strong enough, they will attack us. When I marry the king of Carigo, we will have an alliance, then Delph will leave us alone.”

Frowning, he asked, “But you are personally sacrificing a great deal. Surely there are other ways to protect Kallthom. You might employ a mercenary army, or increase the defenses of the village and the castle. I am sure there are a number of other things that could be done. It seems you are paying a very high price.”

“What are you trying to do, Northlander,” she said with a smile, “get out of earning your fee? Are you sorry you contracted with us and are stuck with me?” She continued more seriously, “Both Rathe and I were raised to believe we had a responsibility and duty to the people of our kingdom. This is my duty—to do what I can to make the kingdom safe for our people. No one asked me or forced me to undertake this. It is my idea.” She paused, leaning against her mare. “Yes, I do have some regrets. I am giving up marrying and raising children in my own land, and I will be a stranger in Carigo, never seeing those I love again. But I believe the benefits will be worth much more than my sacrifices.”

Björn shook his head. “I do not know if I can agree with you, but I certainly respect you for what you are doing. It is extremely brave of you.” He threw his reins over his horse’s head and mounted, then waited for Aleanna to follow suit.

When she was seated securely in her saddle, she said, “Enough about me. Tell me about your homeland, that place you call the Northland.”

They urged their horses into a gentle walk. Björn closed his eyes for a moment, as if gathering up his memories of home. “We call it by a different name, but ‘Northland’ is what people who speak about it call it. It is far to the north and west of here. The mountains are high and cold, and the ice and snow never melt from their peaks. Spring and summer only last for a few months, so we have to grow a great deal during that time. It is a hard and unforgiving land for men, beasts and vegetation, but the land makes us what we are.”

“And what,” she asked, “is that?”

“Strong, lean and medium-sized,” he responded. “And very alert and quick. We became what was necessary to survive in our environment.”

Aleanna thought about his reply, then asked, “How old were you when you left the Northland?”

“Oh, I was in my twenties, I guess. Most children of the Northlanders leave home about that age,” he said.

“Tell me about your life. What was it like?”

Grinning, Björn said, “You ask too many questions, young lady. Be patient and I will attempt to answer all your questions in time. What about you, Princess? How do you spend your time?”

“I wish you would stop calling me princess. Please call me Aleanna. And what shall I call you, Mr. Bodyguard?”

“Call me Björn.”

“Is Björn your first or last name?”

“I guess it is both since it is my only name. I was taken from my parents at a very early age and my trainer named me. But tell me, since it appears you are being evasive, Aleanna, what do you do to fill your time?”

“Are you making fun of me again?”

“No. Knowing you, I am sure it is something important and useful, and I am sure it will be unusual for a girl.”

“I suppose you are right about that. I noticed, as I got older, there was little order in the land. The largest landowners did pretty much as they chose. But at least there was a form of peace in that the landowners rarely fought with each other. They knew my father would stop that,” she said, looking out over the countryside. “I convinced my father to let me organize and be in charge of a legal system. I think he thought it was only a girlish whim and I would tire of it quickly without doing too much harm.

“I selected twelve good, honest men and trained them to be judges. Their job was to travel the kingdom and settle disputes and punish miscreants. I divided the kingdom into twelve units with one judge for each unit, and convinced my father to pay them well so they could be professionals. They met with me in the castle for several days and we went over their jobs, how they would judge lawbreakers and how they would settle disputes.”

Her face was intent as she explained her tasks to Björn. “Initially, I sent soldiers with the judges and had them build jails in central locations, then I went from hamlet to hamlet explaining the legal system we were developing. I had to call out soldiers a few times at first, but it has been some time since I have had to do that. Everyone seems to have adapted to the system and accepted it. I travel a great deal meeting with the judges, checking to see what is happening in each village and overseeing the system. The only real problems I have are with the people in the hills. They are scattered and fiercely independent. We get along fine on a personal level but I have had to call out soldiers numerous times to enforce a judge’s decision. This is a full-time job for me.”

“That is how you know people by name in the village we just passed through. Is that the same throughout the kingdom?” Björn asked.

“Pretty much. I have made sure that I am highly visible. I want everyone to know me and know that I care about them. I try to present myself as the head of a fair and just legal system, and I think I can say I have done that.”

They entered another hamlet. Recognizing Aleanna, people enthusiastically stopped what they were doing and rushed out to greet them calling, “Princess Aleanna!” Aleanna seemed to know them all by name.

One woman insisted they dine with her for lunch, or dinner as she called it, and would not take no for an answer. The cottage they entered was small but well constructed, with a few bright rag rugs scattered about on a wooden floor. Colorful curtains covered the windows. It had one large room with a kitchen, a dining area containing a large wooden table and benches, a sleeping area for the parents in one corner piled with bear rugs for both warmth and comfort, and a large fireplace for cooking and heating. Bear rugs were also piled in front of the fireplace.

“The children sleep up there,” the woman said, pointing to a loft area.

They had mutton stew with slabs of bread and cold milk with vegetables from the woman’s garden. It was a fine meal, especially for Björn. The two children talked excitedly to Aleanna until their mother quieted them. She explained that she was particularly pleased to have company, as her husband and some of the other men were in the far pastures and would not return until evening. Then she and Aleanna talked about the livestock, the crops, the affairs of the village and the woman related the latest gossip. When they were finished eating, the children rose and without being asked, gathered the utensils from the table and took them outside. Björn had seen a spring as they approached the woman’s home, and he assumed the children were taking the dishes and utensils to wash them in the nearby water.

The woman who had hosted their dinner led the way out of the cottage to find villagers gathered. Björn noticed a number of young women gathered together looking at him and laughing.

“What is it about me that the girls find so funny?” he asked Aleanna.

“They are wondering if you are my boyfriend.”

“What will you tell them?” He grinned impishly.

“I will tell them you are my bodyguard hired by my father to protect me and I am showing you around the kingdom.” She glanced up at him coyly. “Or perhaps I will simply smile and tell them nothing. That will get their tongues wagging!”

The villagers started to gather around six people who began to play musical instruments. A man and a woman played flutes, one man played a drum, another woman was blowing into a long curved horn, and two men played rectangular wooden-box like instruments with heavy strings.

As soon as he saw Aleanna, an old man approached her, took her hands and led her into the middle of the street. The musicians started to play, and the music started slowly. The couple began to dance with their arms raised over their heads. The music grew faster and louder, and the old man and Aleanna danced faster to the beat. The music grew faster and even louder, and the dancers moved to keep the rhythm. The old man was amazingly quick on his feet; as fast as she moved, the old man kept up with Aleanna. His feet stomped the ground so fast they were a blur.

But Björn’s eyes were on Aleanna. He thought she was quite sensuous. The music rose to a crescendo and stopped abruptly. The absolute silence in the village was astounding, then the people began to clap vigorously. When the music started again, they paired off and began dancing.

Aleanna returned to Björn with her face flushed and her breasts heaving.

“You were magnificent,” he told her.

“Thank you,” she said. “I love to dance.”

“I can tell.”

Taking his hand, she led him toward the center of the street. “If you are my boyfriend, we must dance. We do not want to disappoint all those young ladies.”

“I have never danced,” he said, refusing to move even though she was dancing up and down to the music.

“Oh, come on,” she said. “The people will be so disappointed, and so will I.”

With a twinkle in his eye, he began to dance in rhythm with her.

“You said you had never danced!” she said.

“I have not. I have learned from watching you and the old man.”

Just as before, the music grew louder and faster. The music continued its frenetic pattern, and the dancers danced faster. Some couples started dropping out, but Aleanna and Björn continued dancing. Finally it was down to only the two of them.

The music stopped, and the villagers’ applause was deafening.

Aleanna wondered if there was anything this man couldn’t do.

The music started again and a middle-aged woman grabbed Björn and started to dance. He grinned back at Aleanna and let himself be caught up in the fun. The music and dancing went on for several hours. Finally the dancers stopped. Aleanna and Björn, dancing together again, were among the last to stop. The musicians began to play a softer tune.

Catching her breath, Aleanna announced that it was drawing late. Despite pleas to stay, she asked for their horses.

Saying their good-byes, they mounted their horses and rode out of the village with the people shouting good wishes after them and children running beside them shouting,” Goodbye! Goodbye!”

As they left the hamlet and children behind, Aleanna turned her mare in the direction of the castle. “We should be getting back. Perhaps they have finished their discussion.”

Rathe took a walk around the castle grounds. He was capable of being quite introspective, and he wondered if his reason for supporting Björn’s plan was truly because he believed it was the better plan or that he selfishly wanted to spend that time with Aleanna, They had never been separated since she was born. She was his beloved sister, his best friend and playmate. He remembered when she was young how she would try to follow him everywhere. He was constantly afraid she would hurt herself or be hurt. She was a tomboy and by the time she was a teenager, she could win fights with boys her age, and he taught her to use a sword and bow until she became as good as most soldiers. Because she wore her hair cut short, visitors to the castle sometimes mistook her for a boy. It wasn’t until she was nineteen or twenty that she began to let it grow long.

But what he remembered most were the talks they had. From the time she was able to play with him, they shared almost everything. At first, it was children chatter, but as they grew older, the talks grew more serious. He told her of his plans for when he was king, that they would conquer Delph, not to subjugate it, but to stop the centuries-old war, and the Delphs would have the same individual freedoms as the citizens in Kallthom.

Rathe was different from his father. Although skilled in the arts of war, he did not like fighting and thought fighting and war should only be a last resort when negotiation failed. As a boy, he did not enjoy fighting with other boys and even used his authority as prince to avoid them.

Aleanna was the opposite. He was always having to pull her out of fights with boys. She wouldn’t fight with girls; she said they were no fun because they couldn’t fight. It wasn’t until her late teens or perhaps as late as twenty that she gave up her competitive tendencies and started to become a lady, but her independence grew stronger. She was envious of Rathe as he had his future planned out for him and would do great things while she had no such future. She also wanted to do great things. He smiled, remembering when she had first come up with the idea of a legal system. They were on one of their many trips through the kingdom when Aleanna became offended because the peasants and their families had no power against the large landowners and no recourse against their actions. She was also frustrated with the people and the way they bickered, fought and tried to take advantage of each other. Like her brother, she had a keen sense of justice and fairness and the wisdom to know that they were not always the same thing. They discussed and planned her system in detail and, when they were satisfied with it, together presented it to their father. They knew that he most likely would have refused if Aleanna alone had presented it. The king still had delusions that his daughter would marry, settle down and give him grandchildren. Even though he humored her current behavior, he assumed she would correct it as soon as she grew up.

Rathe realized he had made three trips around the courtyard and people were beginning to stare at him. He knew walking helped him think better and was tempted to go to his room, but he knew he would simply pace the floor so he decided to leave the courtyard and go into the countryside.

Rathe’s only weakness was women. His conquests started with women in the court but quickly spread to women in the countryside. Aleanna was extremely critical of his behavior when he confided in her, but he defended it by stating truthfully that he never used his position to take advantage of a woman and his relationships were limited to single women and widows. Her rejoinder was that no woman, especially those who were not of royal birth, could refuse a prince for fear of repercussions. Thinking that over, he gave some credence to what she said and told her that in the future he would be as careful as possible to ensure that any encounter was mutual.

He was both pleased and offended when Aleanna told him of an adventure she had one afternoon with a boy from a village—pleased that she was open enough with him to confide such intimate behavior, but offended and infuriated that a young man had taken advantage of his sister. His anger made him demand who the man was so he could beat him to a pulp. Her response was that she had initiated the encounter and did not see how this was any different from his behavior. She had enjoyed it so much that she intended to continue the same as her brother.

Her attitude stunned him. He remembered his little sister was no longer little and how she always followed him, and he suddenly realized what a responsibility he had. He promised her that he would be celibate until he married as long as she would not repeat her adventure. They both agreed and as far as Rathe knew both upheld the bargain.

They discussed their ideas for significant ways to improve life for the inhabitants of the kingdom. In the process, they developed a sense of great responsibility for the kingdom and its people.

Rathe was convinced that his first duty was to end the war with Delph. First he would attempt negotiation and, if that provided no hope, war was the answer. Then he would work with his sister to make life better for both the people in their kingdom and the people in Delph.

Aleanna and Björn rode leisurely side by side back to the castle, even though dusk was approaching. It was dark when they arrived at the stable.

“Your father and Rathe took some men and went out looking for you,” a stable boy told them.

“Those old fuddy duddies,” Aleanna exclaimed in disgust, “when will they realize I am an adult and can take care of myself. Besides,” she smiled at Björn, “you were with me.”

They left their horses with the boy and entered the quiet castle. Aleanna asked a servant if her father and Rathe had eaten and was told they had not, so she told the servant to have the kitchen staff bring dinner for them to the dining room where they had eaten the first night.

“We should wash up and meet in the dining room in about a quarter of an hour,” she said to Björn.

“I will be delighted to dine with you, Princess,” Björn said with a courtly bow that made Aleanna smile.

They had just begun to eat when they heard the sound of her father and his men arrive in the courtyard. There was no mistaking Brewster’s voice as he vaulted up the stairs.

Charging into the dining room, he said, “Where have you been and why did you go off like that without letting anyone know?”

Aleanna smiled sweetly up at him. “And why are you charging about the countryside like an old fool when you know I do that all of the time,” she cooed. “Besides, Björn was with me.”

Brewster hung his head, a bit embarrassed. “I was worried about you. You know how much I love you.”

Getting up, she went to him, planting a kiss on his cheek and giving him a tight hug. “I know, Father. What will you do when I am gone and married in Carigo? Now let us sit down and eat.”