Ingvar The Stout
AXE-AGE, SWORD-AGE
Part V

978 A.D.

Kolberg, Germania

..........

Your first sea voyage is not what you expected.

The ship rocks. It sways. The waves toss it back and forth, and while it 
looked like a large, worthy vessel when docked in Birka, it suddenly 
feels more like a tiny piece of wood riding rolling mountains of water, 
now that you're out on the open ocean (albeit rarely out of sight of land), 
and plagued with thunderstorms and driving rain most of the way.

Only the hardy constitution with which you've been blessed all your life, 
and the knowledge that Astrid would find it vastly amusing, keeps you 
from leaning overboard and spewing out the contents of your stomach 
during your first Baltic crossing. As it is, the daydreams you occasionally 
entertained as a youngster, of being a fierce Viking warrior, riding the 
waves on a dragon-headed longship, now have a lot less luster.

Astrid takes the rough journey with equanimity, her sole complaint being 
that the salty air dries her skin. She manages to avoid distracting the 
crew *too* much, and actually seems to enjoy standing on deck, letting 
the wind spray water in her face (and then complaining about her drying 
skin afterwards.)

She also starts teaching you some words of German....if this is a 
language similar to Norse, you'd hate to study one that's different. Sure, 
they *count* almost the same, and there are a few words that are 
identical, but you have to put words in the wrong order, and memorize 
new names for things, and feel even more the block-headed oaf, while 
Astrid patiently drills you in greetings and farewells and inquiries about 
the weather, and you look at the smiling, oh-so-young face of this fair 
maiden and imagine her being able to speak EIGHT languages while 
your tongue stumbles over a second.


The first part of the trip is just traveling south along the east coast of 
Sweden. Only for the last leg do you actually venture away from land, 
making the crossing to the European mainland, and that will bring you 
almost directly to Kolberg.

On the last morning, before the sun is up, Astrid sits on the rail of the 
ship, daring it to lurch to starboard and toss her over the side. She folds 
her arms over her chest, and looks at you with a rare, serious 
expression, for once not making jokes or teasing you, or affecting a vain, 
pouty air.

"Have you really thought about what it's going to mean, if you DO find 
your family, Ingvar?" she asks.

"You're immortal now....that won't change. You won't ever get older. That 
means you've got ten, at MOST twenty years, if you learn to fake 
gradual signs of aging, before people realize you're too young for your 
years. That's assuming your wife never notices when you cut yourself 
with a knife and the cut is gone that evening, or you get injured while 
shooing a horse- all right, you're a carpenter- while building a house. 
You don't dare get in a fight, because you can get punched in the eye, 
or get your teeth knocked out, and be unmarked the next day."

"Assuming you keep your immortality secret, you get to watch your wife, 
eventually your adopted children, grow old, wither, and die."

"There aren't too many happy endings with mortals and immortals, 
Ingvar."

The warrior-woman's voice is wistful, almost longing.

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

This trip is *not* fun!  What had seemed a grand adventure upon setting 
sail had proven to be torment of the most gut-wrenching kind.  Thank the
gods for blessing him with a hardy constitution and strong stomach!

Several times through the course of the voyage, some concern returns 
to nag at the periphery of his consciousness.  At these moments, Ingvar 
seems always to end up standing at the ship's rail, staring absently out 
to sea.  Yet no matter how he strives, he can't drag the thought forward 
for examination.

At Astrid's urging, he *tries* to learn this strange foreign tongue.  He 
knows that it is important for him to master at least the rudiments of the 
language, but it continues to elude him.  Fortuanately, he does start to 
pick up a few words as they near the end of the voyage.

Ingvar approaches Astrid slowly, unsure what her demeanor might 
herald.  Standing quietly, he listens as her words tear into his heart 
worse than any of her taunting or criticism.  "I guess I've been so worried 
about them, I haven't thought about it all that much.  In truth, I'm still 
having some difficulty believing all this stuff about living forever and 
never growing old.  I know you claim to be over a hundred years old, and 
I'm not saying you're lying, but it's a bit hard to really accept."

"I had hoped that we go back to being a normal family, and all this other 
stuff would just kind of disappear.  Going back to my work would be 
good, though I like the idea of being a warrior, too.  Not sure if I could 
take care of the family very well that way, though.  Besides, I-"

Suddenly, the thought that had been bothering him off and on for the few 
weeks burst into full bloom in his mind.  "Oh... *no*.  Astrid, I just 
realized something; if everything you've said is true, and I really have 
died twice, then it's possible that they have *seen* me dead!  I wouldn't 
put it past those b******* to have forced Helgi and maybe even the kids 
to watch as they burned my body on that pyre!  How in Hel am I to 
explain being *alive* to them?!"  Ingvar seems close to panic as he 
considers this problem, sweat beading on his forehead and running 
down his face.  Reflexively, he clenches and unclenches his fists as he 
awaits and answer from Astrid.

<><><><><>

[GM]

"Hmmmm," Astrid says. "That would be inconvenient, wouldn't it?"

She looks at you almost sympathetically. "Well, you really won't know 
until you meet them, IF you do meet them, and keep in mind we're not at 
all assured of finding them here."

"But trust me, this immortal stuff is not going to 'just kind of disappear'. 
Denial won't make anything better."

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

"Yeah, I know," Ingvar replies, still frowning.  "But if I *do* meet them, 
and they *did* see me die, then they may be scared and run away.  I'm 
not sure I can take that."

Hearing Astrid comment that the 'immortality stuff' isn't going to go away, 
Ingvar says, nodding, "You're probably right... Dammit!"

<><><><><>

[GM]

Your first impression of Kolberg is that it isn't much different from Birka, 
or from the other port towns you passed on the way down the Swedish 
coast.

That impression fades as soon as you leave the docks. The people 
dress differently, and they seem darker, more brooding, than the familiar 
Norse townsfolk you're accustomed to. They all speak the German 
tongue Astrid has been trying to teach you (with little success). And the 
style of their buildings is vastly different as well.

Astrid seems at ease here, bothered neither by an alien place nor by the 
stares which she must be used to by now.

She pauses by one building, and turns you towards it.

"I want you to come inside for a moment," she says. You see a cross 
mounted at the top of the steepled roof, and the windows are made of 
expensive colored glass, so it surprises you that what is obviously an 
important structure of some sort is open for anyone to just wander into.

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

Strolling through this foreign city, Ingvar seems to do as much staring as 
those they pass.  Everything seems strange and unfriendly, even the 
buildings.  It's amazing that Astrid seems as comfortable here as in 
Birka.

"Uh... ok," he replies.  He looks up at what may the strangest building in 
town, even as he approaches the door.  "Are you sure they're going to 
let us in?"  Obviously a lot of money has been invested in this structure.  
Why would anyone go to so much trouble just for a building?

<><><><><>

[GM]

"Theoretically, everyone is welcome here," Astrid says. "This is a 
church, to the One God."

She grabs your shoulder when you start to balk. "Oh, stop being a baby! 
Stepping inside won't hurt you any! I'm not trying to convert you, I just 
want you to see something."


As she steers you through the door into the dark interior, an open 
chamber with no furniture, except a wooden podium and a table on a 
raised platform at the front, you feel a strange but not unpleasant 
sensation.....an aura of stillness that seems to permeate your being. It's 
vaguely akin to the Quickening buzz you feel from Astrid's constant 
presence, but it seems to mute that buzz slightly. There's definitely 
something supernatural about it.

"Feel it?" Astrid says. "That's the aura of Sanctuary. I told you we're not 
allowed to fight on holy ground....this reinforces it. I'm told newly-built 
churches, or very old, abandoned holy places, don't have this aura, 
though the Rules still apply. But now you now, holy ground is to be 
respected even if you don't respect the religion that built it. If there was a 
temple or some other special site dedicated to your gods of Valhalla, the 
same rule would apply."

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

"What?!  What are you trying to-" Ingvar growls.  Then it hits him.  The 
anger washes out of him as the peaceful vibration crawls up his spine.  
Ingvar stares at Astrid, dumbfounded.

"'Sanctuary', huh?  I *like* it.  *Any* gods or religion, eh?  What exactly 
have the gods to do with what *we* are?  What's the connection?  Are 
we then *deities* ourselves?"  Ingvar's tone indicates that he's mystified, 
yet strongly doubts that last part.

<><><><><>

[GM]

Astrid shrugs. "I don't know what the 'connection' is. As far as I know, 
every holy place become Sanctuary as soon as it's consecrated. The 
aura fades over time if no one worships there anymore, but the Rules 
say that holy ground is holy ground, even if it's been abandoned."

She laughs. "No, we're not gods, unless you believe that being an 
immortal human makes you a god. Although one does wonder, if some 
of your so-called gods might really have been immortals, hmmm?"

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

Brows bristling, Ingvar looks hard at Astrid, his fists clenching.  "I don't 
doubt that my gods were immortal, but I am *certain* they were no less 
gods.  I can't say as much for the 'god' of these overly-fanciful worship 
houses."  He glances about the interior of this ornate house of worship, 
evidencing disgust at it's ostentatiousness before returning his stare to 
his most maddening 'teacher'.

"Well?  About time we started looking for those we came here to find: my 
family.  I'd like to try to get some idea of where this Harnut lives."

<><><><><>

[GM]

"Certain, are you?" Astrid smiles in her infuriating manner that you'd 
consider "cute" from anyone else, then shrugs. "Well, maybe someday 
you'll get a chance to ask them."


"All right, your merchant friend said Harnut is a nobleman here, so 
finding out who he is shouldn't be that difficult. Now let me show you 
another reason for coming to a church."

She walks up the central aisle, and stands before the platform. 
Eventually, a man wearing a brown robe, with a sash wrapped around 
his shoulders, comes walking out of an annex and stands before Astrid. 
He frowns at the armed woman, but she speaks to him with a more 
respectful tone of voice than you usually hear from her, addressing him 
as "Vater", which she taught you is "Father" in German. You hear her 
say the name "Harnut" as well.

After a short conversation, she bows slightly and returns to you. "Priests 
usually know everything that's going on in their community," she says. "If 
you know how to approach them, they can be your most valuable source 
of information." She claps your shoulder. "Harnut lives on a bluff 
overlooking the town. Let's go find ourselves some nice clothes so we 
can visit the man." You don't know about 'fine clothes' for yourself, but 
you can't imagine why Astrid would need *more* clothes.....she already 
has more clothes than your entire family put together, packed in her 
chests.

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

The suggestion that he might 'meet' the Norse gods someday causes a 
very confused look to appear on Ingvar's face.  Nevertheless, he 
chooses not to say anything since he's certain that she's setting him up 
somehow to laugh at him.

Ingvar watches carefully as Astrid speaks with the brown-clad man.  
Listening carefully, he tries to see if he can recognise any words that 
pass between the two; he needs to learn this language if they're going to 
be here very long.  Though not sure, he guesses that the man is some 
kind of priest, like the one they met in Birka.  A sour look crosses his 
face once again.  It certainly seems strange that they would put so much 
money into this 'church' and then dress the priest in a simple robe and 
sash.

Upon returning, Astrid confirms his guess about the man, then continues 
to talk about what a great source of information he is.  However, the only 
thing of interest to Ingvar is what she found out.  "A bluff, huh?  That 
shouldn't be hard to find."  Pausing a moment, he looks down at the 
well-worn clothes that cover his body.  Lifting his gaze to meet Astrids, 
he asks, "More clothes?  What's wrong with the ones we have on?"  
Knowing how some women can be about clothes, he continues, "Surely 
you have something you like in all those chests you brought."

<><><><><>

[GM]

"You just don't understand!" Astrid says, flinging her hair back as she 
sticks her nose in the air. "You should *always* buy new clothes when 
you want to make a good impression!"

This is not a rule of social etiquette you've ever heard before. However, 
Astrid is not to be dissuaded from another shopping trip.

To your way of thinking, showing up at Harnut's home dressed like 
Viking warriors should make just the right impression, but Astrid insists 
that you try a diplomatic approach first.

"He probably has levy troops to guard his home," she says. "He won't be 
easily intimidated by two people. Besides, we don't know he has your 
family."


You spend the rest of the afternoon getting "made over". When Astrid is 
finished, the two of you look like a rich merchant and his (very young, 
very beautiful) wife. She stows most of your weapons and armor at a 
hostel, paying the keeper a silver coin to look after it properly. She 
keeps a shortsword hidden under her skirt, and a dagger tucked down 
her blouse. You carry your sword at your hip, but Astrid makes you leave 
your axe behind. Then she buys a couple of horses, for you to ride to 
Harnut's home on.


She tells you "Since you still can't speak German, I'll have to be 
'translator'. We'll say your family was stolen illegally by raiders, and you 
came here to recover them." She fluffs her hair. "I'm just a new wife you 
picked up along the way...you find me useful for my bilingual 
fluency...among other things." She winks. "He's probably a dirty old man, 
he'll feel like you're a kindred spirit."

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

After a moment of confusion, Ingvar's only response to Astrid's 
insistance is his deep-voiced chuckle.  Though he still feels it's kind of 
silly, he follows her about town on the shopping trip.  He even tries to 
accomodate her on all but the most outrageous suggestions.  At one 
point he has to put his foot down and flat out refuse when she tries to 
get him to wear a bright green jacket.

"I was thinking," Ingvar begins, then grimaces when he realizes how she 
is likely to respond to that, so he rushes on.  "Wouldn't it make more 
sense to take some time to look around his estate before we go 
marching in there?  It might even give us an opportunity to see whether 
my family are actually here or not.  I'm still concerned about whether 
they saw me dead or not, and what to say if they have.  It wouldn't be 
very good if we meet with this Harnut, and he brings my family in the 
room only to have them start screaming that I'm dead, would it?  It would 
also be good to have some idea how he *treats* his 'slaves'."

Looking in the mirror, Ingvar kind of likes the way he looks in these 
clothes, though he's somewhat concerned that they make him look 
unmanly.  He *really* dislikes giving up his axe, and argues about this 
point with Astrid a bit before finally giving in.  At least, he gets to keep 
the sword, and he gives the innkeeper a hard look when she instructs 
the man to look after their things.  On the other hand, the thought of 
having so stunningly beautiful a wife definitely plays to his ego.  A 
*huge* grin spreads across his face at Astrid's not-so-subtle intimations.  
"I think that's a part I can play!" Ingvar replies, followed by the most 
jovial laugh she has yet heard from him.

<><><><><>

[GM]

Astrid's smile turns sardonic. "I'm sure you can," she comments wryly.

"Maybe you're right about looking around a little, though. The problem 
is, you're about as stealthy as a...well, you. If we get seen sneaking 
around, we can forget a diplomatic approach. Tell you what. We'll ride 
part of the way there, then *I'll* do some looking around, come back, and 
we'll proceed."

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

"That sounds good," Ingvar replies.  He gestures vaguely down the road.  
"Lead the way."  With that, he turns and mounts the handsome steed 
that Astrid provided for him.  Ingvar will accompany her to wherever she 
decides is a good place to do her 'sneaking around' from, and wait for 
her there.

<><><><><>

[GM]

You ride up the road from Kolberg, to where you can see it leads to a 
promontory overlooking the sea. Astrid pulls the horses off the road, 
where a cluster of trees obscures the road ahead from view.

She dismounts and says "I can't go skulking around in this dress." She 
rummages in her saddlebag, pulls out a simple wool shift. "All right, turn 
around, farm-boy. If I catch you peeking, you'll be regrowing some of 
your favorite body parts."

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

"Yeah, yeah, all right," he replies.  Ingvar dismounts his horse and walks 
back out to a spot on the road where he can see the promontory.  The 
temptation exists to take a peek back into the woods, but he's not willing 
to pay *that* price, even if it's temporary.  So he just stands there, 
staring up toward where Harnut's home must be.

<><><><><>

[GM]

After a few minutes, Astrid says "All right, you can look now."


Wearing only the grey shift, which ends above her knees, Astrid still 
looks practically undressed to you, and she's probably quite aware of it. 
She grins and picks up her sheathed shortsword. "I'll be back." With 
that, you get a final glimpse of her long white legs, and then she's 
darting between the trees, heading uphill.

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

Turning, Ingvar strolls back over to where Astrid and the horses await.  
His eyes roam over Astrid's minimally-clothed body, perhaps just a bit 
too familiarly.  "Ok, I'll be here," Ingvar responds with a chuckle as she 
departs.  "Enjoy yourself."  Knowing that this could take a while, Ingvar 
decides to make sure the horses get something to eat, and himself as 
well.  That done, he plants himself with his back to a tree and begins to 
work on his sword's edge with his sharpening stone.

<><><><><>

[GM]

Your sword is pretty sharp, and you're pretty bored, when you feel the 
Quickening, a comforting reminder that however stealthy Astrid might 
be, she could never truly sneak up on you.

She emerges from the trees and says "Like I figured, he has a few lazy 
peasants with sharpened sticks to keep unwanted visitors away. If 
something seriously threatened...like Viking raiders, he probably has a 
whole company of militia ready to come running up the road when he 
sounds the bells in his chapel."

"I only saw a few peasants out in the fields, and some doing chores, 
milking cows and the like. No way to be sure if any of them were your 
family, but no one seemed to match the descriptions you've given me."

She heads to her saddlebag, carefully unfolding the dress she wore 
earlier. "Turn around again."

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

As the buzzing starts again in his spine, Ingvar looks up with a grin that 
is just slightly wolfish.  Even before Astrid appears through the trees, he 
inquires, "What did you find out?"

"No sign of Helgi and the kids, huh?" he responds, sounding 
disappointed.  "Still, I suppose they could have been inside.  At least 
there wasn't much in the way of guards, should things get ugly later..."

Without responding, Ingvar stands up and sheathes his sword.  
Reaching around to his back inside his jacket, he pulls out the knife that 
he had stashed in the back of his pants.  Moving around to the far side 
of the tree away from the horses, he sits down and starts working at the 
knife's edge, trying not to think about what's going on on the other side 
of the tree.

<><><><><>

[GM]

"We aren't going to 'get ugly' on this visit," Astrid says. "Supposing we 
discover your family IS here...and Harnut refuses to release or sell them. 
What do you plan to do, jump up and draw your sword? We could kill 
him, and possibly even fight our way out, *maybe* with your family in 
tow, though that part is doubtful. But then how do you plan to get back to 
Kolberg, and onto a ship back to Sweden? Think, farm-boy."


You hear rustling sounds, and finally she steps out from around the 
horse, dressed like a wealthy merchant's wife again. "We're going to be 
polite and friendly, and if Harnut acts like a toad, we'll express 
disappointment, but we won't threaten him, or he'll have more guards 
and your family watched especially closely, when we come back under 
cover of darkness."

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

"I never said *anything* about 'getting ugly' *on this visit*!" Ingvar replies 
angrily, his face turning red and his fists clenching.  "You talk a lot about 
*thinking*, little girl - perhaps you should try it *yourself* some time!  Or 
are you just too in love with the sound of your own voice to bother 
thinking *before* you speak?  And you're supposed to my *teacher*.  
HA!  Seems you have little more to teach than how to shoot off your 
mouth."

When Astrid finally emerges, Ingvar seems far less interested in her 
appearance than before.  Standing, he slips the knife back into the 
sheathe tucked in his pants and stomps over to his horse.  "Fine.  Let's 
just get this over with.  Ok?"  His mood at this point doesn't seem to 
bode well for any possible negotiations with Harnut...

<><><><><>

[GM]

Astrid folds her arms and taps her foot. "Look at you! You can't even 
hold your temper for one sentence! You're going to start a fight, I know 
it!"

She pulls herself up onto the saddle. "And *don't* call me 'little-girl'!"

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

Ingvar glares in Astrid's direction for just a moment before returning his 
gaze to the road ahead.  "Fine.  I won't call you 'little girl' if you don't call 
me 'farm boy'."  His words come out as nearly a hiss.  "If you find 
treating me with some respect to be beyond your capability, then don't 
expect to receive it from me."

"As for fighting, it seems to me that *you* are the one itching for battle, 
as it is all you seem to be able to talk about."  With that, he kicks his 
horse into motion and begins to head down the road in the general 
direction of the hill.

<><><><><>

[GM]

"Ooooooh!" She fumes and stamps her foot, and for someone 
supposedly over a hundred years old, she certainly LOOKS like a 
spoiled brat on the verge of throwing a tantrum.

"I never knew training a fledgling was this hard! I'm glad *I* never gave 
MY mentor this much trouble!" she says. And continues muttering 
angrily, in her own language, as you ride uphill.


The day is overcast and gloomy, which lends the manor at the top of the 
bluff a rather sinister appearance, particularly with the low stone tower, 
something alien to Norse builders.

Peasants lower their farming implements and watch the wealthy riders 
approach curiously. A milkmaid picks up her skirts and goes scurrying 
inside, no doubt to alert the household.

"All right, 'husband'" Astrid says, putting on a cheerful, slightly vacuous 
smile. "Let's see that even temper of yours now." Still smiling, she 
continues towards the house.

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

Despite Astrid's claim, Ingvar suspects that she was just as troublesome 
for *her* mentor.  However, having dealt with children quite a bit, he 
decides not to mention this to her.  Thus, he ends up riding along beside 
her for a ways.

As they approach Harnut's house, Ingvar finds that he doesn't like the 
looks of this abode.  The peasants / slaves certainly don't seem overly 
friendly.

Astrid's comment does nothing to help his mood, but Ingvar knows that 
the next few minutes are crucial.  He struggles to subdue his temper and 
has *some* success.  Nevertheless, it is still apparent that he is 
disgruntled about *something*.  He has never been one to 'forgive and 
forget' very quickly...

"Alright," he replies.  "This is it."  He rides the last few yards to the 
house.  Once close, he dismounts and ties off his horse to a tree or post.  
When he and Astrid both appear ready, he approaches the door.

<><><><><>

[GM]

A tall man in hose comes out to greet you, as you dismount before the 
main gate.

"I am Theo," he says, and then something with "Harnut" in it. Astrid 
replies, in a sweet, ingratiating tone, smiling pleasantly at the servant. 
She gestures at you, and the man looks over at you before returning his 
gaze to your "wife".

They speak for a minute before the man bows and retreats inside, 
beckoning for you to follow.

"Harnut can't just turn us away at the door, after we've come so far to 
see him, can he?" Astrid says. Stableboys come out to take the reins of 
your horses. Astrid hands them over, and smooths her skirts. "Well, let's 
go." She takes your arm and walks alongside you like a dutiful, affection 
wife.

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

"Good day, Theo," he replies, attempting a friendly smile.  "I'm glad we 
finally found you."

Handing his reins to the stable boy, Ingvar accepts Astrid's arm with 
another attempt at a smile,  and accompanies her into the house.  As he 
walks, he looks about at the house and it's furnishings, quite certain that 
this man will be far wealthier than he has ever been.

<><><><><>

[GM]

Harnut is definitely wealthy. He has a lot of servants, and a lot of fine 
furniture, even some frivolous artwork.

You and Astrid are led into a medium-sized hall, and shown a place to 
sit, and then Harnut enters.

He's a rather heavy man, with thick jowls, and unfriendly eyes. His 
greying hair curls around his temples, and falls in the back to just above 
his shoulders. He's wearing rich imported green brocade, and carrying a 
goblet. While he nods curtly, a servant comes forward to offer both of 
you drinks also.

He introduces himself to you, and then Astrid speaks. Harnut's eyes 
snap to her- and stay there. While she nods towards you, no doubt 
explaining that you don't speak German, and she will translate, his eyes 
travel down her face, and lower still, to fix on her bosom. He finally takes 
his gaze off her chest when she stops talking.

You're sure she must have noticed his oggling, but she shows no sign. 
Harnut speaks, and she translates, "He wants you to describe your 
family for him. But he says he doubts he has them, since he hasn't 
bought any slaves from the north."

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

Sitting, Ingvar watches the noble Harnut enter.  Returning the man's 
nod, he accepts the proffered drink, though he forces himself to all but 
ignore it in his hand.  He watches the exchange between Astrid and 
Harnut; it doesn't take him long to decide that he doesn't much like the 
man.  Nevertheless, he tries not to show it as he returns the greeting, 
though his already poor mood does little to help.

Turning to Astrid when she addresses him, Ingvar finds that his is 
impressed by her restraint so far.  "Ok," he replies.  "I know you've heard 
it many times and could describe them quite well yourself, but I will 
proceed."  Ingvar describes Helgi, Istrid and Hammar once again in fine 
detail, adding, "I will leave it to your judgement as to when to bring up 
the subject of 'buying' them back.  Also, it might be a good idea to 
mention that Reinn gave us his name, if you can find a way to do so 
without calling him a liar - though I have little doubt that he would lie if 
he thought it would benefit him."  That said, he looks over at Harnug and 
gives him what might pass for a friendly smile.

<><><><><>

[GM]

"It might also be a good idea to remember he *may* understand more 
Norse than he admits," Astrid whispers back, still smiling at Harnut.

She translates your descriptions, and you hear the name "Reinn" 
mentioned. Harnut scratches his beard, thinking, and shakes his head.

They speak for a short while, and finally Harnut points at you as he 
speaks. Astrid says "He wants to know what you trade in. Describe 
something, in case he knows Norse terms for trade goods. I think he 
thinks I've been doing too much talking for you. Also, he says he doesn't 
remember Reinn, and doesn't have your family."

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

"Oh. Uh... yeah," he replies, feeling foolish at not having thought of it 
himself.

Ingvar tries to follow the conversation, but with his few words of German, 
he has little success.  Suspended somewhere between frustration and 
boredom, he starts slightly when Astrid finally turns to address him.  
Thinking back on the weeks he has spent in Birka, Ingvar recalls the 
profusion of furs at market there.  With his smattering of experience with 
hunters, he figures that this is a good choice.  "I deal in furs.  I buy them 
from hunters and trappers in the outer lands and bring them to market in 
Birka.  As for my family, any chance he re-sold them after getting them 
from Reinn?  If they were with him a short time, that might explain his 
poor recall."

<><><><><>

[GM]

Astrid talks to Harnut a little longer. Harnut shrugs and looks apologetic.

"He says he can't help us," Astrid says. "Such a shame." She sighs, still 
smiling. "Well, we'd be be returning to town then, husband." She stands.

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

"Damn.  Very well.  Let us go."  Ingvar stands and gives Harnut a nod, 
accompanied by a grim smile.  "Good day, sir."  He accepts Astrid's arm 
and accompanies her outside.

Once outside, Ingvar looks for the groom and his horse.  He rides in 
silence for a while, until he's certain they are well out of hearing distance 
of the manor.  "Well, Astrid?  What did you think?  Do you believe him?"

<><><><><>

[GM]

"Nope," Astrid replies. By her tone, she seems completely unconcerned 
as she says, "He was lying through his teeth. If he doesn't have your 
family, he at least knows exactly who you were talking about."

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

"I'm not surprised.  He seemed like a dishonorable sort.  Then again, I 
am surprised that he wasn't interested in the money."  Ingvar's voice 
bears the grimness of hammer on stone, yet lacks the volatility that 
usually indicates anger.

He continues to ride back toward town at a comfortable pace.  "Ok.  It 
seems the next step is to try to determine whether my family are actually 
there or not.  You are best qualified to do this by spying on them for the 
next few days.  Then again, this sneaking about stuff may be valuable to 
one such as us.  Perhaps this would be a good time to start teaching 
*me* this skill..."

<><><><><>

[GM]

"This 'sneaking around stuff' is very valuable to ones such as us, but it's 
not something you can pick up on one outing," Astrid says. "Still, I 
suppose you'll have to learn sooner or later, and this is a less hazardous 
venture than some I've been on." She shudders for a moment.

"You didn't bring along clothes suitable for sneaking, though. Well, you 
could sneak around in those, it's not like you're wearing armor, but it 
would be a shame to get your best outfit all muddied up and torn." She 
laughs. "Let's go back to town and plan our next move."

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

"Very well," he responds, mildly surprised that the subject of 
'appropriate' clothing has arisen yet again.  Ingvar continues to ride 
along toward town.  As he travels, the carpenter in him looks about, 
evaluating the trees in the woods as they pass.  Mentally naming the 
species he is familiar with, he searches for any new ones that might bear 
investigating.

<><><><><>

[GM]

Back in Kolberg, Astrid makes you put on dark clothes, and once again 
refuses to let you wear armor.

"You *can* pad armor so it makes less noise, but it's easier to go light."

She dresses in a dark blue blouse and black wool breeches, and then 
produces a long black scarf that she wraps around her long golden hair 
(which she has coiled in a tight braid close to her skull). She places a 
matching cowl over her head and shoulders, and then draws a light 
piece of black fabric across her face and secures it under the head-
covering.

"I learned to do this in Ifriquiya," she says. "A hijaab does have *some* 
uses."

Now that her head is completely enshrouded, she looks rather sinister, 
riding next to you in a man's clothing with face hidden, on the road back 
up to Harnut's lands.

Pulling off the road at a place where you can tether your horses in the 
trees, she dismounts.

"I'll let you follow me as far as the edge of his fields," she says. "But I'll 
proceed to the manor itself by myself. I don't trust your ability to stay 
silent and in the shadows when there are people close enough to hear 
or see you....especially if you actually see your wife or kids."

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

Grumbling about having to go into danger all but naked, Ingvar yet does 
as he is told.  Unfortunately, he has little in the way of dark clothes.  The 
best he can manage is a pair of dark green pants and a jacket of 
medium-brown.  Of course, the jacket is still over a shirt in an off-white.  
Fortunately, at least his boots are dark brown, though his hair is only a 
little darker than his skin.

Finally, he emerges to find an ominous wraith standing before him.  It 
takes several moments to realize that this is the same Astrid that he has 
travelled with for so long.  "'Eefree'-what?  'Heejab'?  Thor's stones, you 
speak strangely.  And you look like a ghost out of legend.  God's!  What 
will you come up with next?"

Ingvar mounts up and follows Astrid to her choice of location to 
dismount.  "You're going to leave me *behind*?  S***, woman!  You go in 
*that* close, they'll see you too.  Especially in a getup like *that*."

<><><><><>

[GM]

"I don't intend to meet them face to face," Astrid replies. "The idea is not 
to be spotted in the first place. Now think about this carefully, farm-b- 
Ingvar. If you're looking for something in the dark, what's harder to 
see....something black, or something white?"

She raises her veil, so her face flashes palely in the dim moonlight. 
"From right there where you're standing, yes, I look like a strange 
woman wrapped in black cloth." Her voice is slow, even, and a bit 
patronizing. "From ten paces away, I look like little more than a 
shadow....farther than that, and I'm invisible."

"I'm not going to go *into* the manor....just sneak around outside, and 
peek through some windows."

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

Though her tone is still condescending, Ingvar smiles as Astrid corrects 
herself and uses his name for the first time in a *very* long time.  
Frowning, he scrtaches his chin for a moment.  "Hmmm... I think I see 
your point, Astrid.  Then again, those clothes would seem less useful 
during daylight hours."

Ingvar looks around, having not noted the last rays of the sun before it 
set.  It has become fairly dark without him really noticing.  This is 
something he *must* work on!  It occurs to him that if other immortals 
and even mortals are this sneaky, being unaware of his surroundings 
could prove quite *fatal*.  "You're going to peek in the *windows*?  
Surely it is not common to spy on others in such a manner!"  Ingvar's 
tone leaves no doubt that he is shocked by the very idea.  "This 
sneaking around seems somewhat less than honorable, though certainly 
useful to those willing to do so.  You're right that I need to learn 
something of this skill."

<><><><><>

[GM]

"Of course I'm right!" Astrid says confidently. "You need to learn a LOT 
of skills. That reminds me, I need to have a talk with you about soap."

She finishes tethering the horses.

"Listen, there's honor and there's honor. We're not going to find out 
about your family by asking Harnut politely; we already tried that. So 
now we do things the subtle way, or the unsubtle way. You'd probably 
enjoy the unsubtle way more, but as I keep reminding you, if you plan to 
escape from here WITH your family, doing so without a mob of 
screaming militiamen on our tail would be a good idea."

"Now," she continues, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Follow me, and 
try to step where I step. And especially try NOT to step on nice big 
branches that will break underfoot. And crouch down! And don't swear 
when branches scratch your face!"

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

The look of surprise on Ingvar's face quickly turns to one of dismissal.  
"*I* know about soap.  I'll have you know I took a bath just... let's see... 
*4* days ago.  Or was it 5..?"

Once again, Astrid is starting to get on Ingvar's nerves with her wild talk.  
"Reminding me *unnecessarily*, I might add!  While I still believe *you* 
would enjoy the 'unsubtle way' just as much as *me*, you have *yet* to 
see me charge the house swinging my sword above my head!  Nor will 
until it's agreed as our plan.  Anyway, I *still* don't like this peeking-in-
windows stuff."

"Ok, ok," Ingvar responds.  "Lead the way."  And he really does try to 
follow and do as she does.  Nevertheless, his attempt to walk crouched 
looks as awkward as it feels, and just a bit ridiculous.  Carefully placing 
his feet as nearly exactly where she does requires virtually all his 
attention - he may not notice a tree branch until it strikes him in the 
head.

<><><><><>

[GM]

Astrid wrinkles her nose. "Five days ago? Are you counting standing on 
deck during a thunderstorm as taking a bath?"


To the surprise of both of you, you actually manage to follow Astrid fairly 
quietly. You don't step on any major twigs or branches, and you manage 
not to yell when a branch Astrid pushed aside snaps back in your face. 
The two of you reach the edge of Harnut's fields.

She crouches down, and gestures for you to do the same.

"Not bad, farm-boy, you might learn a thing or two after all. Now wait 
here until I return." With that, she takes off across the fields, not giving 
you a chance to retort to being called 'farm-boy' again. She appears to 
be just a shadow flitting over the open ground, until she melts into the 
shadows surrounding Harnut's manor.

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

"No, no.  At one point when you were napping, I bathed with the rest of 
the crew.  We used buckets of seawater and, yes, even soap!  Damn, 
that water was *cold*."


No one is more surprised than Ingvar at his passable success at moving 
quietly.  By carefully watching and imitating Astrid, he manages to walk 
with a stride other than his usual stomp.  The branch in the face causes 
him to grumble and growl, but he restrains his impulse to yell at her - 
especially impressive considering that he suspects that she did it on 
purpose!

Squatting next to Astrid, Ingvar takes his first look across the grounds of 
Harnut's estate.  Wow!  That *one man* could own so much.  It beggars 
comprehension to one such as Ingvar.  Hearing her speak, Ingvar soaks 
up the meager, back-handed praise that she bestows.  He almost misses 
her slipping back into the hated nickname, and by time he notices and 
tries to reply, she is already gone.

Ingvar watches as Astrid floats across the open spaces like a phantom.  
Did he not know she was there, and watching her carefully, he realizes 
that he would likely never see her.  As the nightship makes it's slow 
journey across the sky, he continues to watch her progress in 
amazement.

<><><><><>

[GM]

Astrid leaves you sitting in the darkness for quite a while, before she 
finally returns. You feel rather pleased with yourself, that you spot her 
running back across the fields, a black-on-black shape, even before you 
sense the Quickening.

She crouches down next to you and pulls her veil off, with a disdainful 
snort. "Never did actually *like* wearing the things."

"There are perhaps a dozen people in the house itself, and ten more- 
stablehands, pig-herders, other peasants- living in shacks or in the barn, 
surrounding it. A small village- barely even large enough to be called 
that- is on the other side of the house."

She looks at you seriously. "Now- I saw a girl who *might* be your 
daughter, and a woman who *might* be Helgi." She leans back. "Ingvar, 
you have considered the possibility that Harnut might be employing 
them- well, your wife anyway, God forbid he be that much of a dirty old 
man- as more than houseservants?"

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

Ingvar watches as suddenly Astrid appears, running toward him.  He 
marvels at her ability to move about almost as though the breeze itself.  
It is almost a shock when she pulls off the veil to reveal a human still 
within.  Astrid's comment about the swath of cloth elicits a smile from the 
grim Norseman.

"And... and he *owns* all those people?!"  Ingvar can't keep the shock 
and amazement out of his voice at the idea that Harnut would have so 
many people to work his lands.  They must be extensive indeed!

Surprise turns to delight at the mention of those who *might* be his 
family.  "*Really*...?!"  However, the joy in his heart is frozen in moments 
by Astrid's next words.  In truth, he hadn't even considered the 
possibility.  Yet, she's right, it *is* a possibility.  Anger rises as an all-
consuming flame in his breast, yet he has no words that are sufficient.  
Thus, he sputters and spews, "But... He... It's... S***!"

<><><><><>

[GM]

"Slavery is even more common to the south," Astrid says. She smirks at 
you. "Where do you think all that wealth flowing inland comes from? 
Slavery and pillage, farm-boy. You may never have been involved in it, 
but you're sure proud enough of what your people have accomplished 
by perpetrating it. Doesn't seem so glorious when your own kin are 
victims, does it?"


She leans back against a tree and regards you. "So, the question is, do 
you still *want* your wife back, if she's been sleeping in Harnut's bed?"

"What if she *enjoyed* it? For that matter, what if she doesn't *want* to 
go back? You're probably assuming no one would want to stay in 
slavery, but the slaves of a rich man often live better than free peasants. 
Would your little homestead back in Sweden appeal to someone who's 
lived in an estate like this?"

"Assuming you still want to proceed- can you do it *without* insisting on 
wreaking vengeance on Harnut as well? Leaving his dead body behind 
is another complication we could do without. And what if your wife 
*didn't* enjoy being with him? What if he even touched your daughter? 
You going to keep your temper?"

"Of course," she adds, while you try to assimilate all these questions, 
"this is assuming that the females I saw *are* yours."

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

At the use of 'farm-boy' once again, Ingvar's right eyebrow rises.  
Obviously, Astrid's not yet ready to relinquish her over-arching 
superiority.  "You're right, *little one*, I don't know all that much about 
what my people have been doing overseas, or where all the money 
comes from.  And, no, I don't much like the idea of losing my family.  
How they are being treated has been one of my biggest concerns.  They 
may be slaves, but even slaves have a right to be treated well.  Whether 
you believe it or not, Ebe was always a respected member of our 
household."


"Yes.  I would very much like to have my family back," Ingvar replies with 
heartfelt conviction.  "As you noted some time ago, the children aren't 
mine, so our marriage wasn't based on her being a virgin.  I must admit 
that I hadn't considered the possibility that she was sharing Harnut's 
bed, either by choice or otherwise.  On the other hand, the thought that 
she might have a better life here *had* occurred to me.  Certainly, by our 
laws, she has the right to choose to disolve our marriage if she wants.  
That's why I have been trying to find a way to talk to her before we 
attempt anything 'messy'."

The grimness that had abated slightly while talking about wanting his 
family back returns in earnest.  "I think you misunderstand me.  I don't 
hate Harnut just for having slaves that happen to be my family.  While I 
don't like my family being torn apart by it, I accept that slavery is part of 
the way things are.  We had a slave - Ebe - in our house, as I mentioned 
before.  If they are here and they wanted to leave, then I would be glad 
to take them and depart, and leave Harnut to his life."  Ingvar's voice 
deepens to a growl.  "If, however, he has raped Helgi or laid his dirty 
hands on Istrid, then I will find it *very* hard not to carve him up into little 
pieces.  Would *you* find it so easy to accept those things?"

After a few moments, Ingvar settles a bit.  "Ok.  It seems like the first 
step is to determine whether it was actually Helgi and Istrid that you saw.  
Is there anyplace over on the other side from which I might be able to 
watch this 'village' you mentioned during the day tomorrow?"

<><><><><>

[GM]

Astrid simply laughs derisively, interrupting your reply, when you call her 
'little one'. Somehow, it doesn't seem to be having the desired effect.

She listens to the rest, though, and says "Oh, don't get me wrong, some 
people are probably born to be slaves. I'm not really criticizing your 
people for that, everybody has slaves. Just remember, things always 
look different from the other side."

That might have passed for something resembling a moral lesson, but 
your wise old granny she is not, no matter what her age. You get the 
impression Astrid thinks she's a lot more profound than she is.

She does consider your last question about Harnut, though, her blue 
eyes serious for once. "No, I guess not," she answers. "I'd probably gut 
him too. I never said you should *accept* it, just try to keep our priorities 
straight. If it comes to a choice between getting away clean, or getting 
even with Harnut, I assume you'll know which to choose."

"Now, I'm not sure about watching the village- if these slaves are 
houseservants, they may not even go to the village much. They may 
stay indoors all the time." She frowns. "Now, if they're up early, they'll 
have to leave the house at some point, to use the privvy if nothing else." 
She smiles. "I know! I'll lie in wait for one of them, grab her, tie her up, 
and carry her back here. If it's your wife or daughter, you can talk to her, 
and we'll decide what to do next. If it isn't, we'll know Harnut doesn't 
have your family. Then I let her go, and we ride away- very fast."

"Of course, if more than one comes out at a time, it gets trickier." She 
presses a hand over her mouth, stifling a yawn. "Oh drat. I never have 
been that good at planning. *Doing* is easy."

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

Depending on the circumstances, Ingvar is not so certain that he will be 
able to make the choice that Astrid obviously feels is right.  However, he 
chooses not to tell her, as it might not come to that.  On the other hand, 
dying has not been exactly *pleasant* the past few times, and he is not 
anxious to repeat the experience.

Ingvar shifts nervously; Astrid's plan doesn't sound all that wise.  "You're 
likely to *scare* Istrid to death doing something like that.  If they come 
out to use the privvy, it will probably be out the back door.  How about 
we move to the absolute closest place where you feel I can hide with a 
decent chance of not being spotted, and that has a view of the back 
door, and then I'll wait for a chance to identify them.  I suspect that I can 
recognise any of my family from a fair ways away.  Even if I can't see 
their face in detail, things like how they move will tell me a lot."  Ingvar 
catches himself yawning in response to Astrid's almost before he 
realizes it.  "Let's get into position, and then we can rest a little before 
dawn."

<><><><><>

[GM]

"the closest place that will give you a view of the back door is close 
enough that getting away without being seen will be purely a matter of 
luck," Astrid replies. She kicks the ground irritably. "Oh fine, let's go." 
She stands up. "You'll never learn if you don't take a few risks, after all."

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

Astrid's childish display draws a smirk from Ingvar.  "You're right.  
Besides, if the only way to get away safely is to wait until nightfall, then 
I'll damn well lie there all day.  Probably take a nap while I'm at it..."  It's 
hard to imagine Ingvar displaying that kind of patience, but then again, 
in his quest to regain his family, he has already done many things that 
those who know him would not have thought him capable of.  With a 
small grunt, he rises to his feet and follows Astrid to the new hiding 
place, doing his best to move quietly as before.

<><><><><>

[GM]

The two of you stalk quietly over the fields and back to the area behind 
the manor, near the privies. Not far away, there is the first of several 
barns, and the least-used, apparently, as no animals are housed there, 
just piles of hay and sacks of grain, and a jumble of farming implements, 
most of them broken. It's used as a combination storage warehouse and 
garbage dump by the sloppy peasants working Harnuts land. Astrid 
begins walking up the small mountain of hay and sacks, to a spot on top 
where the two of you can hide.

"Oh, gross!" she spits, as spiderwebs wrap around her face. She makes 
disgusted sounds as the webs snare in her hair, and tries to wipe it all 
off against her pants. She motions for you to lie down next to her, up 
here in the darkness. Where it is probably going to become stiflingly hot, 
once the sun rises.

From here, you will be able to see the *legs* of anyone emerging from 
the manor to use the privies, as the roof will cut off your view of anything 
else. Astrid realizes this fact at the same time you do, and sighs. "All 
right, move a little further down, but be ready to jump to the ground and 
run if we're spotted. Try to stay in the shadows. If we're here until sun-up 
and no sign of your family, we'll just have to crawl back up to the top and 
stay there."

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

A chuckle escapes Ingvar's lips at Astrid's reaction to the webs, even as 
he wipes several off himself.  The presense of the webs seems to 
indicate that people don't come up here very often.  He lowers himself 
onto the hay where Astrid indicates, and attempts to peer out toward the 
house.

Before he can mention the obvious problem with the view, Astrid is 
already moving down into a better position.  As instructed, he adjusts his 
new position back and a little to the side in order to be well into the 
shadows.  Another look towards the manor house verifies that he has a 
passable view of the required area.  "Ok.  I think I'm set.  About how long 
do you figure till dawn and people moving around?  Do we have time for 
some shut-eye?"  Already, the hay is beginning to irritate.

<><><><><>

[GM]

"Maybe an hour," Astrid says. "Go ahead and sleep, I'll wake you up."


It seems like you just shut your eyes when she smacks you on the leg, 
then hisses "Ssssh!" when you start to growl in protest. "S'zat her?"


There's a girl making her way out the back door of the manor...about the 
right age- but it's not Istrid.

You barely have enough time to be disappointed, when Istrid follows the 
first girl out.

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

Upon being woken, it's hard to say whether the stout Norseman is more 
or less tired than before.  At Astrid's prodding, he puts one hand over his 
mouth as he yawns, then quickly rolls over to look toward the house.

Spotting the first girl, Ingvar can tell immediately that it isn't the right 
one, though he can see why Astrid would mistake her.  His heart begins 
to sink as he shakes his head for Astrid's benefit when out of the door 
steps another girl.  He had been about to turn away, and almost missed 
seeing it - *this* is his daughter, *Istrid*!  Oh... Istrid!  The impulse to 
shout out to her is nearly overwhelming, but he clamps it down, not 
wanting to endanger her or the success of his purpose here.  Shaking 
with excitement, he points toward the girls with one hand, and holds up 
two fingers of the other.  He looks over at Astrid for a moment to see if 
she understands, then returns his gaze to the house, not wanting to miss 
it if Helgi or Hammar should appear.

<><><><><>

[GM]

Astrid nods, and watches as the two girls visit the privies, then return 
inside. Over the next hour, more servants come out, both to use the 
privies, and begin performing chores such as feeding the pigs and 
milking the cows, but you don't see Helgi or Hammar. Astrid elbows you 
and indicates you should climb back up to the top of the haystack.

Once you're out of sight, Astrid leans back and stretches out, murmuring 
"Looks like we'll be stuck here the rest of the day after all. Might as well 
get some sleep." She closes her eyes, and begins breathing slowly and 
steadily.

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

Reluctantly, Ingvar climbs up to where Astrid lies.  Sleep sounds *so* 
good, but he can't get his mind off Istrid and Helgi and Hammar.  He lies 
in the straw, staring out through whatever crack remains, hoping for 
some glimpse of one of his family.  Yet sleep pulls at him; Ingvar slowly 
drifts from intense watching to daydreaming of a reunion to come to 
slumber.  Even in his sleep, his dreams are dominated by his family.  He 
sleeps better than he has in a long time.

<><><><><>

[GM]

Unfortunately, you wake up when it's still several hours until dusk, and 
spend the remaining time very uncomfortably, as the sun has raised the 
temperature here inside the musty barn, and the dust and cobwebs are 
increasingly irritating your nose. The hay is becoming prickly and your 
limbs are stiff, and you could use those privvies yourself. You have a 
small skin of water to drink from, but your rumbling stomach seems like 
it's loud enough to alert the people constantly passing back and forth 
outside.

Astrid wakes up too, and begins tossing and turning and rolling over in 
her own efforts to become comfortable, and starts muttering incessantly 
about what a stupid idea this was, and how she should have just 
executed her first plan, to grab the poor girl and bring her to you. She 
starts idly sticking her dagger into the hay- *chunk!* *chunk!* *chunk!*

At one point, you hear Harnut's voice, but can't make out what he's 
saying. Children squeal, or cry, and servants carry things around, 
animals wander near, and several times, someone comes into the barn, 
either to grab a hay bale or a sack, or to toss a bucket or stick clumsily 
into the corner. Astrid and you lie quietly atop the pile. As the sun begins 
to go down, you realize you're not sure what you're going to do once you 
*can* get down.

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

The muggy heat in this hay-filled barn is almost more than Ingvar can 
take.  Sweat runs down his face and soaks his clothes.  He is starting to 
feel like a pincushion from the hay, and his joints are starting to ache.  
All in all, a pretty miserable afternoon.

Astrid whines and plays with her dagger, while Ingvar thinks about how 
badly he needs to relieve himself.  He considers just crawling over to a 
corner and dampening the hay, and he may well do it if he has to wait 
much longer.  What he wouldn't give for some food about now...

After an hour or two, he's hardly paying any attention to the people 
below.  Ingvar turns to Astrid.  "Ok.  We've determined that at least Istrid 
is here.  Hopefully, they're unlikely to separate the kids from their 
mother.  So there's a fair chance that Helgi and Hammar are still here.  
The next problem is to find a way to talk to Helgi and find out if she 
wants to leave with me.  Any ideas on how to do that?"

<><><><><>

[GM]

Astrid hisses irritably. "How the hell should I know?" She starts muttering 
in her language, or some other one that you don't understand. Then she 
lays back with a sigh.

"Ooooh.....look, I've heard your daughter come outside several times. I 
think we should go back to my original plan. I'll hide down at the 
entrance to the barn, wait for a chance to grab her, the next time she 
comes outside, and carry her back up here. Of course that's *if* I get a 
moment when no one else is looking. Either that or we keep staking out 
this place for however many days it takes to spot your wife and maybe 
speak to her alone, which isn't likely. And I probably can't grab a grown 
woman and haul her away without a commotion quite so easily. Or we 
confront Harnut at sword-point, which is starting to sound more 
appealing, but it's still probably not very smart." The woman is definitely 
feeling even more impatient than you.

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

Hunching over slightly, Ingvar waits out Astrid's outburst.  Staring at the 
ceiling of the barn, he tries to come up with a better plan.  Failing and 
feeling trapped and frustrated, he sighs loudly.  "Alright.  I guess we'll 
have to go with your plan.  Do you have anything to write a message 
with.  It might help convince her mother to come meet with me.  One 
thing: *please* be gentle with Istrid.  She is going to be *very* frightened, 
and I don't want her hurt as well."

<><><><><>

[GM]

"No, I don't have anything to write a message with," Astrid mutters. "Can 
your wife even read?" She begins slipping down towards the bottom of 
the haystack. "Don't worry, I'm not going to break the poor kid."

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

For a moment, the big Norseman appears stricken, then he admits 
bashfully, "Well... I don't think so.  Uh, for that matter, um, I don't really 
know how to *write* either.  Guess it was a bad idea at that..."

As Astrid departs, Ingvar calls softly after her, "Please don't..."  He then 
turns and starts to think about how he can best do this.  After some 
moments, he seats himself on the hay, well back but facing the opening 
from which Astrid departed.

<><><><><>

[GM]

You're actually starting to doze off again, as the sun sets and the air 
slowly cools in here, when Astrid makes a hissing noise.

Shortly thereafter, she comes crawling back up the haystack, with a 
squirming bundle under one arm, squeals muffled behind the other hand 
she has placed over the girl's mouth.

"Ow! She bit me!" Astrid snaps, hauling Istrid up towards you. But she 
grins. "I figured I'd get lucky. Kid came out all by herself. My mentor 
once told me I'm too lucky for my own good- ow!" She frowns again as 
Istrid apparently continues trying to bite through Astrid's hand.

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

A million emotions flood through Ingvar's broad frame as Astrid totes 
Istrid into view.  Joy at finally seeing her.  Pride at her fiestiness.  
Apprehension at her possible reaction to himself.  A tangle of feelings 
that he finds nearly impossible to sort out or even comprehend.

"Istrid."  Ingvar's voice is steady and low as he forces the emotion out of 
his voice.  As hard as this is for him, he knows it is about to be *much* 
more difficult for her.  "Please, little one, sit down."  Ingvar remains 
sitting, watching her reaction to his voice and words carefully.

<><><><><>

[GM]

Istrid's eyes become impossibly wide when she sees you, and she 
makes a gurgling scream, loud even through Astrid's hand. Then 
squirms frantically, whether because she wants to throw herself into your 
arms, or run away from you, you can't tell. She cannot sit down, 
however, as Astrid still has her tucked under one arm.

The woman inclines her head and shifts her burden so her mouth is 
closer to Istrid's ear, and snaps "Quiet! Stop wriggling! Stop it, I say!" 
She shakes the girl. Istrid subsides a little, but her feet still kick as they 
dangle in the air. Astrid swears as she almost loses her balance on the 
sloped stack of hay, trying to step closer to you and hold onto Istrid at 
the same time. "Listen- I'll let go of you IF you promise not to scream, all 
right?" Istrid makes another noise behind Astrid's hand, eyes fixed on 
you, but of course her reply is impossible to decipher.

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

Wincing at her scream, Ingvar yet smiles with pride and love at his 
daughter.  Nevertheless, a shiver a fear climbs his spine from the look 
on her face and the shock/fear in her eyes.  He is committed to this 
course of action now, and has no choice but to see it through.

Astrid's shaking of the girl draws another grimace and a "Gently please, 
Astrid," from the worried step-father.  As Istrid considers Astrid's offer of 
release, Ingvar speaks once again, concern and a touch of pleading 
tinge his voice.  "Please, Istrid.  Sit.  Talk with me."

<><><><><>

[GM]

Istrid relaxes slightly, making a whimpering noise. Very cautiously, Astrid 
takes her hand off the girl's face. Istrid sputters. "D-d-daaady!" She 
chokes. "You're s'posed to be dead!"

"Well, that's not a very nice thing to say to your father!" Astrid says, 
plopping the girl down on the hay next to you. Istrid blinks and looks 
back at Astrid, still stunned and not appreciating at all that Astrid is 
teasing her.

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

Istrid's outburst causes Ingvar to chuckle softly, which ends abruptly at 
Astrid's response.  Obviously, she has much to learn about dealing with 
children.  "Not now, Astrid," he growls.  Not wanting to anger this woman 
who has helped him so much, he softens his tone, "Can you give us a 
few moments, please?"

Without waiting for a reply, he returns his gaze to Istrid.  Gods, she's 
beautiful!  "You're right, Istrid.  I guess in some ways I am 'supposed' to 
be dead.  But I'm not."  Concern becomes apparent in his tone.  "How 
are *you*?  And how is your mother?  And Hammar?"

<><><><><>

[GM]

"We don't like it!" Istrid sniffs. "We're slaves now, but Harnut doesn't 
treat us as nice as you treated Ebe." She looks up at you. "Are you 
going to take us home now?" she asks in a pleading voice.

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

Hearing that she is unhappy tears at his heart.  But hearing that she 
wants to come with him helps; now if Helgi will just feel the same way...  
"I hope to, Istrid, but the decision is up to your mother.  We still have to 
convince her that I'm really alive, and find out if she wants to be my wife 
again.  Even so, I don't know if things will ever be exactly as they were 
before, but we can try."

Ingvar smiles at his daughter, trying to look more hopeful than he feels, 
and pats his broad thigh.  "Come here, little one, and I will tell you how 
you can help."

<><><><><>

[GM]

Very cautiously, Istrid lowers herself onto your lap. "Why wouldn't 
momma want to still be your wife?" she asks. "I'm sure she wants to 
leave here and go home!"

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

The burly woodcutter beams at Istrid as she summons the courage to sit 
on his lap.  He knows that this is quite a feat for her after believing him 
dead for so long.  Once she has settled herself and starts to talk again, 
he places his large, rough hand against her back for support, in a 
manner deceptively gentle for one so large and strong.  "I don't know, 
my little one.  Maybe she won't be able to accept that I am really alive.  
Maybe she will have some other reason.  It is up to her; she will have to 
decide what she wants and thinks is best for you and Hammar."

Knowing that how this works out depends on this young girl, Ingvar's 
face becomes more serious.  "This is where it gets difficult, Istrid.  I have 
no way of getting to talk to your mother.  For this, I must rely on you.  
Please listen very carefully.  Sometime today or tonight, I want you to tell 
your mom about me.  Tell her that I'm alive and that you have talked to 
me.  Tell her that I very much want to talk with her about us being a 
family again.  Hold on a moment."  He holds up one finger to Istrid in a 
gesture that she knows well.

With that, Ingvar looks over toward Astrid.  "Astrid?  Where would be the 
best place for Helgi to meet to talk with me?  Here, or over by that tree 
where we hid earlier, or somewhere else?"

<><><><><>

[GM]

Astrid is lying back on the hay, staring at the ceiling and looking bored. 
She turns her head to look at you and Istrid.

"Farther from the house would be better," she says, in an "Isn't-that-
obvious?" tone of voice.

"Harnut doesn't let momma go very far, usually," Istrid says. She is 
staring at the warrior woman with frank curiousity, and a little fear.

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

"That makes sense," he replies matter-of-factly to Astrid.  Either Ingvar 
doesn't notice the tone in her voice or chooses not to respond to it.

Almost immediately, his attention is drawn back to Istrid.  "Hmm.  I'm not 
surprised," he says, rubbing his chin.  "Ok.  Let's go with the tree then."  
He leans forward slowly so that Istrid is gently forced off his lap.  Lying 
down on the edge of the haystack, he gestures to Istrid to do likewise.  
"See that big tree over there past the edge of the fields," he asks, 
pointing out the tree to his step-daughter.  "Tell Helgi that I will wait 
there each evening for the next three nights, from when the sun first 
touches the treetops to when the moon reaches the middle of it's pass.  I 
will also be there each morning after from first light to when the sun rises 
above the trees on the other side.  If I don't see your mother by the end 
of the third morning, I will assume that she is not willing to go with me.  
Ok?  Can you remember all I have told you?  Can you do as I have 
instructed?  And don't forget - *only* speak to her where no one else can 
overhear.  Got it?"

<><><><><>

[GM]

Istrid nods, but looks concerned. "What if she doesn't want to go back? 
*I* want to go back!" she sniffs.

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

A deep frown creases Ingvar's face; he hears the pain and pleading in 
her voice.  "I understand, little one.  *I* want you to too, but I cannot and 
*will* not take you from your mother.  That would be wrong.  It has to be 
*Helgi's* decision."  He knows that this is not the answer she wants to 
hear, and he hates having to disappoint her, but he has no other answer 
to give her.

<><><><><>

[GM]

As expected, Istrid doesn't look entirely pleased with this answer, but 
reluctantly nods her head and says "All right," looking down.

She awkwardly rises to her feet and tries to maneuver her way down the 
haystack, then pauses to throw herself back at you, wrapping her arms 
around your neck and crying.

Astrid rolls over, sticking a piece of straw in her mouth to chew on. She 
gazes up at you and your daughter silently, with an odd, introspective 
look.

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

As Istrid falls into his arms, Ingvar clasps her tight and hugs her fiercely, 
though he is yet careful not to hurt her.  "I love you," he murmurs softly 
into her hair, words that must sound strange coming from so rough and 
brutish a man.  

After a few moments, his grip relaxes.  Ingvar gently pries the girl from 
his neck and holds her out at arm's length, looking down into her tear-
filled eyes.  Louder than before, "I'm counting on you, Istrid.  Can you 
remember all that I told you?"  He gazes deeply into her eyes in 
anticipation of her answer.

Once she responds, he releases his grip on her shoulders.  "It's up to 
you now.  I know you'll do your best.  Hopefully, I'll be seeing you again 
in a few days..."

<><><><><>

[GM]

Istrid nods solemnly, with moist eyes. "I will," she whispers.

She slides down the haystack, with a hand from Astrid. The two of you 
watch her run inside, just as you hear someone yelling from within the 
house.


Astrid is silent for a while, though she glances at you now and then with 
a little smile. Finally she says "Your wife may not enjoy her 
choice...staying with a man who's enslaved her, or fleeing with a man 
who claims to be her husband, risen from the dead."

She chuckles. "It's amazing how different people are up close. I've done 
a fair bit of traveling. You know, everyone else in the world considers 
you Norse to be barbaric, vicious monsters. Not entirely without cause- 
the atrocities your Vikings have committed in the lands you've raided, 
the things they do to women there, things that would drive you into a 
mad rage if they were done to *your* women- have given your people a 
well-earned reputation for brutality."

She leans back in the hay. "But at home, you treat your own women 
more decently than most other cultures I've seen. Where I grew up, a 
woman had hardly any say at all, about anything. There wouldn't be any 
questioning as to whether she *wanted* to return with her husband, or if 
she would *allow* her husband to take charge of her children. It's rare 
for a woman to even have a say about *who* she marries, or when." She 
laughs softly. "And then I married into an even more restrictive culture, 
where women were little better than furniture. Yet my husband treated 
me far better than most husbands in my native land treat their wives. 
And there was much to be admired in his culture, though I certainly 
didn't recognize it at the time."

She stops talking then, and simply stares up at the ceiling, chewing on 
the end of a stalk of hay.

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

The stout father's eyes trail Istrid every step of the way back to the 
house, until she disappears from view.  With an audible sigh, he slumps 
back onto the hay.


Astrid's words only serve to reinforce what Ingvar already knows in his 
heart to be true.  "You're right; it's not much of a choice for *any* 
woman," he replies with a frown, sadness and worry engraved in his 
voice.  "I wish that I had better to offer her."

Something in Astrid's tone as she proceeds tells him that she isn't 
criticizing him or his people, but rather just stating facts.  Thus, there is 
no anger in his voice when he responds, just weariness.  "As you have 
pointed out so often, I have not been to any other lands - except now - 
and know nothing of other peoples.  Yet, if what you say is true, then the 
lives of women may be far harder than I had known.  And I don't think 
they can be considered *easy* even among my people."  Ingvar pauses 
for just a moment.  "There is much that is strange in the world, isn't 
there..?"

<><><><><>

[GM]

Astrid laughs ruefully. "Honestly, Ingvar, have you ever actually 
*thought* about what a woman's life is like, in your own culture, much 
less anyone else's? I doubt it!"

She rolls over onto her stomach and looks up at you with a disconcerting 
blend of world-weary cynicism coming from a beautiful, youthful face. 
"Strange? That depends on your point of view, doesn't it? I don't think 
anything is strange to people who are used to whatever it is. Your 
people are strange to everyone else, and everyone else is strange to 
you."

She gets a distant, distracted look, then rises to her feet. "Now I have to 
use those privvies!" She begins sliding down the haystack. "I guess we 
need to make our way to that tree anyway. Instead of waiting around all 
day in a barn, now we get to wait around all night in the woods." She 
sighs.

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

His first response consists mostly of grumbling.  "Yeah, well, probably as 
much as you have about men's lives..."

"Yeah, well, I guess that makes sense..."  Yet his tone belies that he 
may not quite understand the issue of perspective.

"Fine with me!  I'll be glad to get off this damn hay!"  Ingvar climbs to his 
feet, stopping to itch at several places where the hay was scratching him 
through his woolen pants.  He follows her down the haystack and out 
into the woods.  Once she returns from using the facilities, Ingvar looks 
up at her from his seat on the ground by the tree.  "If you don't want to 
wait, I can stay by myself.  I think I can find my way back to town.  I'll 
look for you around the inn where we stayed.  I might as well spend my 
days there, rather than out in this damned heat."

<><><><><>

[GM]

"What, you think I can't stand to stay out here in the woods just as well 
as you can?" Astrid protests indignantly, suddenly reverting to the more 
petulant behavior you've seen before. She may be over a century old, 
but if everything she's told you is true, she can't have been long out of 
her maidenhood when she "died" for the first time and her aging halted- 
and sometimes, it seems to show.

The stubborn woman-warrior sits herself down next to you, folding her 
arms and raising her nose with a haughty "Hmph!" And sits there silently 
after that, except for occasionally shifting to keep her legs or derriere 
from going numb, being pressed uncomfortably, like yours, against the 
cold ground.

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

Apparently all the built-up stress within the burly man has been looking 
for release and Astrid has just provided it, for Ingvar bursts out laughing 
at her sudden petulance.   "Actually, I just thought that it was likely to be 
a long wait and you might have other things you want to do.  Besides, it 
isn't *your* wife we are waiting on.  If it wasn't *mine*, I doubt *I'd* be 
here.  Anyway, so be it."

With that, he lies down and attempts to find a 'comfortable' spot, as 
though about to nap for a while.  However, after a few moments, Ingvar 
speaks up again.  "Well, since we have a lot of time before us, how 
about telling me about someplace you've been or one of your 
experiences over the years?"

<><><><><>

[GM]

"Places I've been?" Astrid leans her head back against the tree, and 
exhales slowly.



"I was born in Rome," she says. "You know....that ancient city you said 
you'd heard of?"

"And my travels began before I even became an immortal-"



Astrid tells you about her abduction from a villa outside Rome when she 
was sixteen, by Saracen raiders, how she was befriended by another 
woman, a fellow captive, whom she only later learned was an immortal, 
and how she was taken to another continent, and a desert land called 
"Ifriquiya".

She tells you how she was a slave at first, and how her "master", Kemal 
ibn-Hakim, freed her and his other slave, and then married them both. A 
strange arrangement, as it sounds like slavery in this foreign land must 
be a bit different than it is among the Norse.

They traveled with Kemal on one of his crusades against some tribe of 
horsemen that worshipped other gods (a disturbing parallel with the 
Christian priests now trying to spread their influence in your homeland).

She tells you about her husband being captured during the first skirmish, 
and how she and Agnes decided to set out to rescue him. And how they 
were captured by the Berbers, and threatened with torture and death to 
extort their husband to abandon his cause, which he refused to do. Even 
now, Astrid sounds indignant.

"We tried then to escape ourselves, a second time, but we failed," she 
says. "That's when Agnes, she....she stabbed me."

She's quiet for a moment. "You see, they- Kemal and Agnes- both 
*knew* that I was an immortal! Once you're immortal, you can sometimes 
tell, when a person is going to be an immortal but hasn't died their first 
death yet. But I didn't know. I didn't even know that my husband and 
cowife were both immortals, not yet. So Agnes was trying to spare me 
from being permanently scarred. The Qaid, he...he was going to...have 
me whipped, almost to death..." her voice trails off.

"Anyway," she says again, after a long moment, "I thought she was just 
trying to spare me from being tortured to death. But I survived the 
stabbing- she missed my heart- and then....the next morning- the 
Sheykh turned on the Qaid. The lecherous dog's desire to possess the 
two of us actually saved us. We escaped in the confusion, but the 
Sheykh's men caught up to us. Agnes managed to fight them off- I was 
still too weak to be much use- and then the Sheykh himself fought her, 
and he lost." Astrid laughs. "He was an immortal too, you see. I was 
practically surrounded by immortals, and everyone but me knew that *I* 
was an immortal!"

She relates their flight across the desert, until the Qaid's men caught up 
to them, how Kemal appeared as if by miracle, having already slain the 
Qaid, and how the Sheykh then turned on Agnes, breaking their 
truce...and how she barely succeeded in killing him, and then finally took 
his head. And how the Rules prevented their husband from intervening, 
which still seems to anger Astrid a bit, though she concedes now that, 
strictly following the Rules and not knowing the Sheykh had already 
violated them, Kemal felt he had no other choice.

"I saw the Quickening," Astrid says. "A fantastic display of fire and 
lightning, like the northern lights you have up here, but all at once, in a 
small circle. It was Agnes, taking the Sheykh's Quickening. That was the 
first time I ever saw what happens when an immortal loses his head to 
another immortal."

"So after the three of us got back to Kemal's camp, and Agnes began 
tending to my wounds, she told me about herself. How she was an 
immortal, and that the Sheykh was one too....she didn't tell me right 
away that Kemal was also an immortal, I figured that out myself, shortly."

"But what they *didn't* tell me, even after all that, was that *I* was 
destined to be an immortal! We lived together for two years after that, 
and then Agnes continued looking after me when we returned to Rome, 
but in all that time, they *never* told me about myself! I thought I was just 
a mortal, who'd become a....a brief, temporary part of their lives..." to 
your surprise, you actually hear old pain entering her voice.

"I didn't find out the whole truth until-"

Astrid's voice cuts off, and then you realize she's staring across the field 
between here and Harnut's house. From the direction of the manor, you 
can see a shadowy figure carefully making its way towards you.

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

Ingvar gapes at Astrid as her tale winds on and on.  Astonishment and 
disbelief war in his head and across his face.  If her tone and facial 
expressions didn't convince him that *she* believes what she is saying, 
he would be inclined to believe that it was the children's fairy tale to end 
all fairy tales.

He's just about to start asking her questions about all these immortals 
she was surrounded by, when suddenly she reacts to something he 
hadn't noticed.  Ingvar's gaze naturally follows Astrid's out across the 
grounds toward the house, and his heart nearly stops as he sees the 
figure moving in their direction.

Having actually thought about this moment for quite some time, Ingvar 
looks around for a good spot of moonlight and moves to stand there.  
The last thing he wants to do is shock Helgi by appearing suddenly in 
front of her, so he will stand where she can see him as she approaches.  
Then, he waits.

<><><><><>

[GM]

You're surprised and perhaps a little disappointed when the shadow 
comes closer, and turns out to be much too small to be Helgi.

It's Istrid, looking around furtively, and crying out as she stumbles over a 
rock. She heads towards you as soon as you step into the moonlight.

"Daaaa!" she cries out, panting, as she reaches you. She stops, and 
falls against you, clinging to your waist.

"She didn't believe me!" Istrid sobs. "I tried to tell Momma, but she yelled 
at me...told me I was making things up-" Your daughter looks up at you 
miserably. "She's not going to come out here because she thinks I'm 
telling tales. She even threatened to have Harnut give me a beating if I 
spoke of it further!"

Your wife must be greatly distressed- at home, she would never have 
asked you to thrash Istrid. On the rare occasions when her daughter 
needed such harsh discipline, she would administer it herself.

"Now I *am* going to get a beating for running off, but I had to tell you!" 
Istrid sniffles.

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

His first reaction is disappointment that Helgi has not come, though he 
can't be unhappy to see Istrid again, if even for these few moments.  He 
holds her to himself and rubs her head, reveling in the feel of her love 
for him.  As her tale spins out, Ingvar's heart grows heavy with concern.  
Surely this is most difficult for Helgi, to be acting in so strange a manner.

"I'm sorry, little one.  I know this is hard for both of you.  I certainly never 
expected to see you again, either."  Ingvar grows quiet, and spends 
several minutes in deep thought.  Thinking back, he realizes that he has 
nothing left from his past life.  No identifiable object that he could send 
back with Istrid to demonstrate his authenticity.  Even Ebe's belt buckle 
was destroyed in the fire that consumed him after his second 'death'.  
Even *thinking* that word still gives him chills.  He will have to come up 
with something else.

Finally, a memory comes to him.  A time many years back.  Something 
she must surely remember.

Ingvar kneels down and looks Istrid in the eye.  "I have an idea.  Maybe 
it will help convince your mother.  There is something that happened 
shortly after Helgi married me, that only she, Sigtrygg and myself know 
about.  Wait and give your mother time to settle down, maybe even a 
day if needed, then bring it up carefully with her."  Ingvar then proceeds 
to tell Istrid about the time he punched Ebe, in sufficient detail that there 
can be no mistaking.

"Do your best, little one, and maybe this will be enough.  I will continue 
to wait here as I told you before.  Go now, and get your rest."  He gives 
her another hug, knowing it may be his last, then sends her on her way.  
He continues to stand there, watching, as she makes her way back to 
the house at last.

<><><><><>

[GM]

Istrid listens to you gravely, nodding her head at each detail you're trying 
to make sure she remembers.

"I will!" she promises, giving you another hug. To your chagrin, you 
notice she is also shivering with cold. She turns around quickly and 
hurries back across the dark field, towards Harnut's house, and probably 
a beating- under the best of circumstances, Helgi would *certainly* 
blister her bottom for taking off into the woods in the middle of the night 
like this.


Astrid says "Well, it's a sure thing she won't be telling that tale tonight, 
so why don't we return to Kolberg, and come back tomorrow night?"

<><><><><>

Ingvar:

Worries crisscross through his mind as Istrid returns to the big dark 
house.  If that shivering is any indication, she may well have a cold 
tomorrow, as well as a sore bottom.  It saddens the brawny woodcutter 
to think that she will have to pay a steep price for loving him and wanting 
to be with him.  If Helgi still is not willing to meet with him, he really will 
have to leave so as not to cause them any more pain...  Damn!  
Frustration floods into and mixes with the sadness.

Astrid's words catch him almost by surprise, though the idea doesn't.  
"Just as I was about to suggest," he replies, his voice low and full of 
melancholy.  "But I doubt I can find the way in this dark; guess it's up to 
you."  Rising to his feet, he turns to follow in whatever direction she 
leads, not really paying attention to where they are going.