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Solveig pats the bed invitingly.
> Solveig: Why should you sleep on the floor, Al? We're husband and wife now. I must share your bed.
>
> Alvin: Must? No. Nuh-uh. Not at all. Nah. You don't have to.
>
> Solveig: Don't you find me desirable?
>
> Alvin: Of course I...I mean...you're a beautiful woman, Solveig. But you only married me because of Sten. This is a marriage of convenience – we both know that. I wouldn't dream of asking you to sleep with me.
>
> Solveig: Al, come sit here beside me.
Solveig sits up and her fur blanket inches downward, showing some cleavage.
Alvin sits beside her, leaning slightly away.
> Solveig: I know you don't love me. But you kindly agreed to marry me, and I'll be forever grateful. I know men have needs. This was a bargain between us, and I mean to hold up my end. Besides, it's our duty as Vikings to have children.
>
> Alvin: Solveig, I...need to confess something.
>
> Solveig: Yes, Al?
Solveig's blanket is sliding perilously lower. Alvin tugs it up and tucks it firmly behind her shoulders.
> Alvin: I don't quite know how to say this.
>
> Solveig: I think I can guess.
>
> Alvin: You can?!
>
> Solveig: Yes. You've never lain with a woman.
>
> Alvin: Oh. Well, I have, actually. But it never went very well.
>
> Solveig: That's all right. I'm a maiden myself. We'll learn together.
>
> Alvin: I appreciate that, I really do, but we've only just met. Instead of...all that, let's get to know each other properly.
>
> Solveig: How?
>
> Alvin: By talking. Like you do with your friends.
>
> Solveig: I have no friends here.
>
> Alvin: You do now.
Solveig considers.
> Solveig: I agree. On one condition.
>
> Alvin: What's that?
>
> Solveig: Get into bed. In a friendly way only. It's cold.
>
> Alvin: Oh. All right.
Alvin gets up and walks around to the other side of the bed. With his back to Solveig, he quickly takes off his jeans, leaving his shirt and boxer shorts on, and dives into bed, pulling furs over himself.
> Solveig: That's better. Now. What shall we talk about?
>
> Alvin: Anything. Did you enjoy the wedding?
>
> Solveig: No.
Alvin laughs at her decisive tone.
> Solveig: No one was happy for us. They hate me and they fear you. Sten looked ready to strangle both of us with our wedding necklaces. I did enjoy that part!
>
> Alvin: Gorm was happy.
>
> Solveig: He always is, when the ale flows freely.
They laugh together.
> Alvin: And Erik. It was really nice of him to make us the wedding swords.
>
> Solveig: It was. He likes you.
>
> Alvin: Really? Do you think so?
Alvin stares at the ceiling, his face dreamy in the firelight.
> Alvin: Do you know if he's, uh...married?
>
> Solveig: He is not.
>
> Alvin: That's interesting. I mean, odd. Isn't it?
>
> Solveig: You mean because he has such a pleasing face and form?
>
> Alvin: Does he? I hadn't really --
>
> Solveig: Perhaps fire demons have different tastes. Here he is considered quite good-looking. But not many girls would have him. Nor would I.
>
> Alvin: Why not?
>
> Solveig: He's never proven himself in battle. He's never killed a man. I'm not long in this clan, but I've heard rumors.
>
> Alvin: What rumors?
>
> Solveig: He would get sick at the sight of blood and start retching in the heat of battle. Once, twice, three times it happened. Finally he was banned from the battlefield, as nothing but a hindrance.
>
> Alvin: So he never got his killing badge.
>
> Solveig: No. Skilled as he is at other things, he is not quite a man.
Alvin looks troubled. Solveig yawns.
> Solveig: I am tired, after all.
>
> Alvin: You know, the Nine Tasks - they're one way to define manhood. But not the only way. Where I come from, there are different ways to be a man.
>
> Solveig: Perhaps. But killing can be the most important thing. The only thing standing between you and your doom. If my brother and my betrothed had been better at it, perhaps I would never have been abducted.
>
> Alvin: Your betrothed! I didn't know you were betrothed!
The silence lengthens. Alvin turns to look at Solveig. Her eyes are closed.
> Alvin: Solveig?
>
> Solveig: Mmm. Tomorrow. Good night.
Alvin stares into the darkness for a while, before finally succumbing to sleep.
§
Solveig opens the shutters a crack and Alvin groans as a sliver of morning light stabs him in the eye.
> Alvin: Ugh. My head. I swear I never used to drink this much before I was a Viking. You got any more of that redleaf stuff?
>
> Solveig: Yes. You can have it in the bath. Come, I've prepared one for you.
Alvin gets up slowly, clutching his head, and walks over to where Solveig is pouring more hot water into a large steaming barrel.
Alvin takes off his shirt and looks at Solveig.
> Alvin: Uh...
Solveig sighs and turns around so her back is facing Alvin. He quickly strips off his boxers and lowers himself into the bath.
> Solveig: I'll brew a fresh pot.
Solveig takes the long-handled brew pot, dips some bath water into it, swirls it around, opens the door and flings the dregs from the pot onto the ground.
She looks up at the sound of a cough. Gorm and Sten are standing a few feet away. Gorm has a leather sack strapped across his chest. Solveig eyes the men suspiciously.
> Gorm: Good morning, Solveig.
>
> Solveig: What are you doing here?
>
> Gorm: I'm here to award Jarl Al his marriage token. After we see the marriage sheet, of course.
Solveig looks at Sten.
> Solveig: 'We'?
>
> Sten: I thought there should be another witness.
>
> Solveig: Did you. Wait here.
Solveig enters the house and slams the door. She gnaws anxiously on her thumbnail, thinking. Alvin calls to her from the bath.
> Alvin: Who's that outside?
>
> Solveig: Gorm and Sten. They want to see the wedding sheet.
>
> Alvin: The wedding what? Oh, sheet! Oh, shit.
>
> This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
>
> Solveig: Keep your voice down!
Alvin's voice drops to a whisper.
> Alvin: That's why Gorm said he'd only give me the token this morning. Shit! What do we do? What's our story? No. We'll tell them the truth. We'll just explain that we decided to take it slow. They'll understand.
>
> Solveig: Al, no Viking in the history of time has ever delayed consummation. They will not understand. Did you or did you not swear you'd complete the Nine Tasks?
>
> Alvin: I did, but --
Solveig goes over to rummage in a box of cooking utensils.
> Solveig: No one will say my husband is not a man, least of all Sten.
Solveig finds what she's looking for. She holds up a kitchen knife and examines its wickedly sharp blade.
> Alvin: Oh my god, Solveig! What are you doing?
>
> Solveig: Don't worry. Get dressed.
Solveig goes over to the bed and pushes all the furs onto the floor. She places the knife blade on her left forefinger, then shakes her head sharply.
> Solveig: Stupid. He'll see.
She takes off her left shoe, sits on the bed, and cuts her left big toe with the knife, gasping with pain. She stands, leans her hand against the wall and rubs her bleeding toe on the linen sheet, making a small red stain in the middle.
Al sloshes out of the tub, puts on his boxers and starts drying off with his shirt, watching Solveig in alarm.
She wipes the knife off on one of the furs, puts her shoe back on, and rips the sheet off the bed. She limps over to Al and holds out the bloodstained sheet for him to see.
> Solveig: This is our story. Understand?
Al nods.
Solveig limps quickly to the door, wincing, with the sheet in one hand and the knife in the other. She stops and arranges her face into a calm expression.
She goes outside and shuts the door. Gorm and Sten are still waiting. She puts the sheet against the outer wall of the house, arranges its folds so the stain is visible, and stabs the knife through the cloth into the wood, pinning the sheet to the wall.
> Solveig: Are you satisfied?
>
> Gorm: Perfectly! May I come in to give Jarl Al his token?
>
> Solveig: Certainly.
Solveig holds the door open; Gorm enters. Sten steps forward, but Solveig blocks his way, looking at him challengingly. He meets her gaze for a moment, then turns and walks away.
§
Outside, Sten hears the door close. He waits a few seconds, then walks back to the Jarl's house. He pinches the sheet's bloodstained center between his thumb and forefinger, then examines them. His fingers are red with the still-wet blood. His eyes narrow.
§
Alvin is putting on a dry shirt when Gorm enters the house. Solveig goes to pile the furs back onto the bed, grimacing when Gorm can't see her face, but taking care not to limp. Al watches her with concern, then turns back to Gorm.
> Gorm: Good morning, Jarl Al! I am pleased and honored to award your first merit badge. Where is your Task Board?
>
> Alvin: Over here.
Al leads Gorm over to the table. Gorm rummages in his leather bag and comes up with a fistful of smooth, round pebbles.
> Gorm: I collected them on my morning beach hunt and made the etching myself. Well, then. Where's the one I want?
Gorm picks through the pebbles until he finds one with the crude image of a woman scratched into its surface. He places it ceremoniously into the board's top-left hollow.
> Gorm: Congratulations. You are now a married man. Well, married, and on your way to being a man.
>
> Alvin: Thanks.
Alvin eyes Gorm's bag curiously.
> Alvin: What else did you find on the beach?
>
> Gorm: Two fascinating artifacts! This is one.
Gorm reaches into his bag and takes out a clear plastic cup bearing a green mermaid logo and the words "Starbucks Coffee."
> Gorm: See the image? It must belong to the Margygr.
>
> Alvin: The Margygr?
>
> Gorm: The sea people. And look -- another item with the same strange markings.
Gorm takes out Alvin's "message in a bottle" – the waterskin with "SOS" singed into the side. Alvin gasps.
> Gorm: I know what you're thinking. Why would the Margygr need a waterskin? I cannot fathom it myself.
Gorm picks up the Starbucks cup again and studies it raptly.
> Gorm: If only I could read their runes. What secrets and mysteries they might reveal!
§
Alvin is alone in the house, sitting at the table and sipping more redleaf brew. There's a knock at the door.
> Alvin: Come in.
The door opens and Oskar enters, carrying a breakfast tray.
> Alvin: Hey, Oskar.
Oskar sets the tray on the table and goes to build up the fire.
> Alvin: Thanks, buddy. Uh...can you come here a second?
Oskar walks back to the table and stands with his hands clasped and his head bowed, peeking up at Alvin.
> Alvin: Listen, I really appreciate everything you did for Ulf, and for me of course, but I don't want you to be my slave. So from now on, you're not. You're free! You don't have to bring me breakfast, or do anything else for me. I want you to just...go out and play with the other kids.
Oskar's face crumples. He turns and runs out of the house, slamming the door behind him.
Alvin gapes after him in dismay.
§
Erik is sitting on a wooden fence surrounding a small field. Alvin is squatting in the field, taking seeds from a leather pouch and planting them.
> Erik: Al, try to keep them in rows, and evenly spaced. A drunken man's footsteps make straighter lines than you.
>
> Alvin: Sorry. You're not far off.
Erik smiles.
> Erik: Too much ale last night? And too little sleep, I imagine.
>
> Alvin: Uh...yeah. So how long will it take these to grow?
>
> Erik: Nine weeks should be just about enough until harvest. Carrots are easy. Just check the soil once a week, and water them if it's dry.
The sun comes out from behind a cloud. The lenses of Alvin's glasses darken. Erik gasps.
> Erik: Al, your eyes!
>
> Alvin: What? Oh.
Alvin takes off his glasses, wincing in the sunlight, and shows them to Erik.
> Alvin: It's just my glasses. They...they're...well, they're magic. They go dark in the sun to protect my actual eyes.
Erik stares into Alvin's eyes.
> Erik: Your actual eyes are such a dark brown. I've never seen that color.
Alvin stares back, then hastily puts his glasses back on and returns to his planting.
> Alvin: So, uh...have you ever thought about getting married?
>
> Erik: No. But I suppose I'll have to, someday. If anyone will have me.
>
> Alvin: 'Have to'?
>
> Erik: It's a Viking's duty to marry and have children.
>
> Alvin: So I've heard. But what about personal freedom?
>
> Erik: What do you mean?
>
> Alvin: I mean a person should be able to marry whoever he wants. Someone he loves. Or not marry at all.
Erik shakes his head dismissively.
> Erik: No.
>
> Alvin: No?
>
> Erik: No, it doesn't work that way when you're part of a clan.
>
> Alvin: How does it work, then?
Erik thinks.
> Erik: Look. When the clan builds a boat, or a new house, everyone helps. You can't just sit idly by the fire and say: 'That's not my house.' It's your village, and you have to help build it. A clan also needs new people.
>
> Alvin: But marriage – that's personal. No one should feel they have to marry.
>
> Erik: If a person belongs to a clan, he can choose to. Anyway, why are you arguing? Didn't you just get married yesterday, to uphold your Viking duty?
>
> Alvin: I guess. And because I owe Solveig my life.
>
> Erik: So you agree love doesn't necessarily come into it.
>
> Alvin: I didn't say that! It's complicated.
>
> Erik: On that we are agreed. Anyway, let's tend to the things we have more control over. Such as not crowding your carrots by putting ten seeds in one hole. When you're done, we could try some archery.
§
Erik and Alvin are standing in a field, twenty yards away from a strawman mounted on a post. Alvin is holding a bow and arrow. Erik is standing behind him, placing his hands on Alvin's hips, shoulders and elbow, to correct his posture.
> Erik: Line your feet up towards the target. Lift your elbow so you use your shoulder muscles. Now shoot!
Alvin looses the arrow and it arcs into the strawman's left leg.
> Erik: Good! Ready to try one on your own?
>
> Alvin: I think you should show me again.
Alvin notches another arrow onto the bowstring and lifts his bow. Erik adjusts his stance again.
Alvin shoots another arrow and hits the strawman in the stomach.
> Erik: Excellent! Now by yourself.
In quick succession, Alvin shoots three arrows into the strawman's heart and both eyes.
> Erik: Al!
Alvin smiles innocently.
> Alvin: Yes?
>
> Erik: You've done this before! Why didn't you say so?
>
> Alvin: I did take archery lessons in coll...when I was younger. But it's been a while.
>
> Erik: I'm impressed! You must be quite the hunter.
>
> Alvin: Oh, well, I'm, uh...
>
> Erik: What's your favorite prey?
>
> Alvin: Have you heard of...cockroaches?
>
> Erik: No. But they sound fearful.
>
> Alvin: Most people think they're terrifying.
>
> Erik: How big were they?
>
> Alvin: Huge!
>
> Erik: How many kills?
>
> Alvin: Oh, hundreds.
Alvin and Erik hear a whacking sound coming from the direction of the target. They turn to see Sten lopping off the strawman's head and arms with three brutal slices of his sword.
Sten walks toward them.
> Erik: Why would you do that?
>
> Sten: Just checking to see if my sword needs sharpening. I think it will serve. I'm sorry, were you not done killing it? I would think it's easier when your foe is tied to a post.
>
> Alvin: What do you want, Sten?
>
> Sten: I came to do you a favor, Jarl Al.
Sten lands on the "Jarl" with withering scorn.
> Alvin: Can it wait? We're busy.
>
> Sten: No, it won't wait. I spotted fresh boar spoor up on the ridge, at the edge of the yew forest. From the size of it, it looks like a big one. I was sure you'd want to take advantage of such good fortune.
>
> Alvin: Thanks, but no thanks. I need more practice.
>
> Sten: Come, now, I'm sure you're just being modest.
>
> Erik: He is, actually. Al is an accomplished hunter and an excellent marksman. Better than you, in fact.
Sten sneers.
> Sten: I'm happy to hear that. We must have a competition some time. Now remember, if you find the boar, the Jarl must be the one to make the kill. Otherwise he won't fulfill the Task.
>
> Erik: Thank you, Sten. What would we do without your sage advice?
>
> Sten: I do wonder. Good hunting. May your day end in blood.
§
Erik and Alvin are stalking through the woods, with Erik in the lead. Bows and quivers are strapped to their backs.
> Alvin: You know, maybe we should take a moment to think about this. Do we really have the right to take the life of a living being? Morally speaking. I mean, a boar eats and breathes. It feels pain and has emotions. It has babies. Really, when you think about it, a boar is no different than you and me.
>
> Erik: With one crucial difference. Morally speaking.
>
> Alvin: What?
>
> Erik: It's delicious with dill sauce.
>
> Alvin: Erik, try and open up your mind. I know you can if you want to.
Erik doesn't reply, but continues to stride through the forest, treading silently on the carpet of yew needles. Alvin is panting with the exertion of simultaneously jogging and lecturing. He crunches heavily over twigs and pebbles.
> Alvin: I can see you don't want to. But listen, we've been out here forever. This boar's long gone, if he ever existed in the first place.
>
> Erik: He's out there.
>
> Alvin: How do you know Sten isn't playing a trick on us? I wouldn't put it past him.
>
> Erik: Vikings don't joke about spoor.
>
> Alvin: Really? Fire demons do nothing but joke about spoor. Don't spoor where you eat. Same spoor, different day. Spoor happens.
Erik turns back to look at him.
> Erik: Quiet, Al! You make enough noise to scare off fifty boars.
Alvin mouths "Sorry", waits for Erik to look away, and jumps on a fallen branch, producing a loud crack.
> Alvin: Oops.
They continue to weave their way through the trees. Erik suddenly stops and points. Alvin collides with his back.
In a small clearing, a boar the size of a young bear is snuffling at roots.
Erik steps behind Alvin and whispers.
> Erik: Shoot for the eye. Quick! Before he smells us.
Alvin notches an arrow and lifts his bow. He hesitates, grimacing. He aims carefully at the middle of a tree trunk.
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The boar jerks its head up, looking in Alvin's direction.
Alvin is startled by the sudden movement and releases his arrow reflexively, without correcting his aim. The arrow arcs towards the boar and pierces its ear. The boar squeals in rage, and with the arrow flapping from its ear, aims its sharp tusks at Alvin, and charges.