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Chapter 13

A week and a half into their journey, on a wet and rainy Thorsday morning, the Silvermane expedition finally re-entered civilisation. Admittedly in this case civilization was a tiny woodcutters hamlet filled with rough drunks and lumber consortium agents… but it had a bath and that was Erika’s main concern.

The town was called Lindholm and it consisted of a few hundred rough houses spread across both sides of the Burning Road joined by a large stone bridge that crossed over the sparking runes. The houses had white washed walls and old dull thatch and stank of rotting plants and beer, a few taverns supplied the workers with a night’s reprieve with two proper halls watching over them, Erika saw the sigil of the Skjöldung clan on one of them and the mark of the lumber consortium on the other. As the expedition had arrived dozens flocked towards it, eager for stories and news from the world outside, but the rest kept trooping stolidly into the Wold bearing axes and returning covered in sap and burdened under huge branches shaved from the Wolds great trees, distant sawing could be heard as treetops visibly shook in the distance, the smell of fresh cut wood clashed with the funk of the Lindholm’s obvious lack of a sewer system.

Erika had been invited along with the expedition to partake in jarl Einar Skjöldung’s hospitality in his hall, after listening to a few boasts and watching Sigurn demolish an entire keg of mead Erika had taken a nice hot bath, drawn for her by the Jarl’s thralls, and then headed out into town.

Erika wasn't sure what to actually do, she didn’t particularly want anything from the tiny dirty market and she wasn't going anywhere near the tavern, which already rang with the sound of fighting, so instead she wandered back and forth along the cluttered trails that served as Lindholm’s streets, Helga didn’t seem to mind.

Erika hadn't asked her to come along but she certainly hadn't complained but she was complaining about…

“The guards here are terrible! I bet I could burn the village down before they stopped me.”

“Your ladyship ah does my eyes deceive me? Your beauty is as a manifestation of Freya herself, your skin as smooth as… AH!”

“Calm down my fine canyons please.”

Erika sighed and turned away from her date? Was it a date? Did Helga think it was, what did that mean, did she mind? Did Helga mind? And looked at the agents of the Silvermane syndicate trailing in her wake.

Apparently “kill the vitki first” was standard bandit protocol for low circle vitki like Erika (after about the fourth circle that changed to “run”), plus Wold bandits and raiders weren’t the only trouble they might have, Alvis explained to Erika that a number of the Clans might benefit from the expedition failing and might have sent mercenaries after them to sabotage or assault them.

So the newly terrified Erika, who was once again cursing her luck, hadn't complained much when Alvis had assigned his three subordinate agents to follow her around town. Apart from Tathra the trap smith there was Solvor, who’d reintroduced herself as an archer, and a wirery middle aged man called Snorri, an aspiring Skald and former soldier whose nose was flattened across half his face from some decades gone bar brawl.

“Do you lot have to stay so close by?” asked Erika after a moment as the moving argument slammed to a halt behind her. “I’ve got Helga with me so can’t you… step back a bit?”

“No can-do lady vitki,” replied Snorri with a respectful but firm tone of voice. “The boss said to stick to you like glue which is what we’re gonna do.”

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“Gotta obey orders, yes.” Added Tathra without much rancour.

“It is our duty to always be most subtractive in obeying our orders.” Solvor said, obviously trying to sound wise.

Erika stopped moving for a moment as she deciphered that then sighed and shook her head, her ash blonde hair waved in the evening light as she ran a hand nervously through it.

“I know I know but it’s just… I thought I… I mean I thought this place would be safe! That I wouldn’t…”

Erika felt tears misting her eyes, she hated this but it was overwhelming her, the dirty droogs, the boredom and the worry, now people might try to assassinate her! She’d just wanted a day to be…

“Erika.” Helga cut off the burgeoning tearful rant with a single word and a kind smile. “I get it, I really do… but I think I can help.”

“How?” Asked Erika trying not to sound like a child, she wasn’t sure if she succeeded by the indulgent look in Helga’s eyes.

“Why don’t we all get something to eat.” With that Helga pointed to the side where sat a tiny open-air restaurant consisting of an oven on wheels an umbrella and a handful of benches. Plumes of smoke vented from the ball shaped oven occasionally overwriting the stench of the street with the sweet smell of roasting meat.

“What do they have?” Asked Erika trying to buy some time to recover from her near breakdown, Helga patted her shoulder and squinted at the distant kitchen. “I can see leathe soup.”

“… I like leathe.”

Without another word Helga dragged Erika over a table and sat her down the Silvermane agents surrounding her as Helga wandered over to the chef. A few shards of hacksilver later and Helga came back with a tray covered in steaming bowls and cool flagons.

Erika took one and smiled up at Helga. “Thank you.” She murmured before settling into her soup, it was very good leathe, freshly pickled and a nice light blue colour and the beer it was served with was good as well.

“Its fine to be overwhelmed kid, this IS your first time out.” Erika was surprised to see Snorri giving her a reassuring smile. “I mean the three of us have been through a LOT together, years and years in the syndicate and even then, they said…” He stopped and gritted his teeth.

“Said what?” Erika asked.

“Apparently most beauteous Speaker none of us are… well… fully qualified to be on this expedition, according to the Silvermane guidelines at least, yes.”

That stalled Erika for a moment, even Helga seemed surprised.

“But you ARE part of the expedition?”

Solvor shrugged, an expressive gesture that forced Erika to keep her eyes firmly on the woman’s face. “We were the only Silvermane team within radish of the mission.”

“We’re still pretty damn good.” Said Tathra, Erika wasn't sure if he was trying to persuade her or his friends. “We have journey together for many years, vanquishing evil and rescuing fair damsels, yes yes.”

Erika decided to ease the mood by asking the obvious question. “Oh, got any good stories?”

That seemed to be just the thing to say, the three agents perked up and began to talk at cross purposes, interrupting each other, poking and prodding, as the story traded mouths like a runner’s baton.

“We took down a Terrorclaw once, twice as big as any I’ve ever seen and three times as angry.”

“It had been ramparting a trade route, swimming up from the sea and hiding in the delta…”

“…Then Snorri came up with a plan, he camped out in the swamp alone, trying to bait in it, day after day until… he dropped his lunch!”

“It was a good plan and it worked! My special hot sauce in the water attracted it, it came rising up out of the deep like a black ship filled with teeth.”

“Solvor was the one who actually dealt with it of course, I mean Tathra isn't a bad shot and I’m decent with a sword but something that big… it was terrify, she leapt onto its side, stuck her axe in its eye and pulled its jaw out of its head!”

“I did what was expectorated of an agent in good standing, nothing more, your praise is most gyroscopic.”

Erika found herself actually relaxed, the three agents suddenly seemed like… well, like three people. They teased and laughed and acted normal, the minutes turned to hours, bowls were refilled, flagons emptied, Helga told a few tales, even Erika was coaxed into it regaling them all with her best story (Not an incredible one even she admitted but helping a squad of blackhelms hunt down a lokispawn in the sewers of Lindholm was still pretty decent, even if she’d been hiding behind her mother all day).

In the end the group staggered back to the encampment and their tents and Erika felt… well the best she had since leaving home.