While these things happened in Vi'nland, events were continuing in Norway. O'lǫ'vr Tryg'ves'on, the king, had made enemies of the rulers of Denmark and Sweden, who were called heathens. In the fall of the year the Vi'nlandiskar left, O'lǫ'vr was at sea near the place called Svǫlðr when one of his own jarls led him into an ambush. O'lǫ'vr's ships were captured one by one. When the allies boarded his flagship and killed his huskatnar, O'lǫ'vr leapt into the sea and was believed to have drowned.

However, when the victorious allies went to the fjords around Niðaro's', the capital of Norway, they found O'lǫ'vr already waiting for them. Some said that God plucked him out of the sea and put him there. Others said that the orc-man in Niðaro's' claiming to be O'lǫ'vr was an imposter.

After his victory over the Danish and Swedish forces, O'lǫ'vr made himself king of Denmark. He continued to Christianise his realms. Those who were called heathens heard that there was a place far to the west called Ka'nehda where land was good and plentiful and where they would be free to worship as they pleased. Ships from Norway, Denmark, and Iceland started making the voyage to Vi'nland every year so that the plain above Tcise'gawþing was quickly filling up.

As the Vi'nlandiskar grew and thrived, they started building themselves bigger and better houses. Þo'rvalðr and He'lgi built an addition to the house at Gi'sls'tað to turn it into a proper longhouse. They also built sheds and a barn and raised a fence around the place.

Tcise'gawþing itself became a flourishing port town as Greenlanders and Icelanders came to buy lumber, which has never been found in such abundance in their homelands as it was found on the coast of Vi'nland in those days.

Men from the Holtmaðar summer camp also visited Tcise'gawþing often in the summer time. They traded animal skins, jewellery made from shells and bones, and other such things in exchange for iron tools and the like. News of the Vi'nlandiskar spread among the Holtmaðar and people from other bands also started coming to trade. He'lgi expanded his pidgin and taught it to as many as wished to listen, and even those who tried to ignore him. Thanks to him, the Vi'nlandiskar and Holtmaðar were able to communicate and began learning each other's language and customs.

* * *

None of the first settlers had brought bees with them, and honey bees weren't found in Ka'nehda before their arrival. This was known in Greenland. Si'gvejg sent Þo'rvalðr out to cut lumber and store it in a warehouse on the waterfront. When ships from overseas arrived, he stood at the door of the warehouse but refused to sell lumber to any orc who didn't have bees to sell. Finally, a Greenlander named Bjǫrnar Ejri'ks'on1 came with bees in his cargo. He had many livestock in Greenland and intended to build a new barn for them. When he came to the warehouse where Þo'rvalðr was leaning comfortably against the door, Bjǫrnar asked,

“What are you willing to trade for that lumber?”

“Bees.” Replied Þo'rvalðr,

“How many?”

“How many do you have?” Bjǫrnar answered with how many boxes he had. Þo'rvalðr said, “Then that's how many I want.”

Bjǫrnar brought the bees and the two shook hands. While his crew loaded the lumber, Bjǫrnar asked,

“I've heard stories about Vi'nland, but I don't know what's true. Can an orc really just mark out a section of land and start farming it?”

“Not only orcs, but orc-men and men too have a place here.” Þo'rvalðr said, “You can build a homestead and farm wherever you fancy, if it's not already taken. No one will fault you for how you keep your house and no king will tell you what god to devote yourself to.”

“This place sounds even better than the stories.” He clapped Þo'rvalðr on the shoulder, “My good orc-man, you may just find yourself with a new neighbour next summer, or the one after.”

Þo'rvalðr took the bees home and placed them near the house where Si'gvejg said was best.

* * *

Later that summer, U'scna'bew came to visit Gi'sls'tað. He'd learned a bit of Danish and Þo'rvalðr had learned a bit of Holtmaðr, so they were able to communicate. On his way, carrying a bag filled with shell beads to trade, U'scna'bew was stung in the neck by a bee. Þo'rði's was in the yard carrying a bottle of milk when he arrived. She ran over to him excitedly and said,

“Have you got the shell beads?”

U'scna'bew replied, “Yes. Beads for a pot.” He put the bag down and Þo'rði's plunged her hands in and let them fall out between her fingers.

“You have no idea the plans I have for these!” She announced with a cackle of maniacal laughter.

“Good morning!” Þo'rvalðr greeted as he came out from behind a shed, “Þo'rði's, go get that pot.”

“You get it,” She said, “I'm feeding Vri'nðra!” Þo'rði's jumped to her feet and ran for the barn with milk bottle in hand.

“You're closer!” Þo'rvalðr called,

“No I'm not!”

“That's only because you're running at top speed away from me!”

Before he was done shouting, Þo'rði's was inside the barn and shut the door behind her.

“Who's Vri'nðra?” asked U'scna'bew,

“A baby goat whose mother died last month. Þo'rði's's gotten entirely too attached to her.” Þo'rvalðr looked at U'scna'bew and noticed the red spot on his neck. “What's that?” He asked,

“I got stung by something on the way here. It was a kind of wasp with a fat body.” he replied, “I've never seen anything like it.”

“A fat-bodied wasp? I've never heard of anything like it either. It must have been a bee.” Þo'rvalðr said.

“What's a bee?” U'scna'bew asked,

“It's what stung you. They're like wasps, but their hives have lots more individuals in them.”

“Where did these 'bees' come from?”

“Oh, we've got a hive of them just over there.”

“What?!” U'scna'bew looked at Þo'rvalðr like he was insane; “Why would you keep a giant hive of wasp-like creatures so close to your house?”

“Because they make honey. Honey is sweet and great to eat on its own, or to put on bread, or in tea. Best of all, you can make mead out of it.”

“What's mead?”

“Mead is what makes life worth living. Mead is proof the gods want us to enjoy ourselves.” Þo'rvalðr explained.

U'scna'bew listened with interest and asked, “How can I get my hands on some honey?”

“You can't right now. We can't harvest any honey yet or the bees will die in the winter, and then nobody would have any honey.”

“When can you get some honey?”

“Oh, next year maybe.”

“That long? Why not sooner, like the cows. Don't you milk them every day?”

“That's completely different. Cows only need their milk when they have calves, and it doesn't keep for long so if they don't use it, it'll go sour. Bees on the other hand, are the biggest hoarders in the nine realms. Left to themselves, they'll store up enough honey to last their whole hive for years and years, and honey never goes bad.”

“If they have so much honey, why can't they share a little now?”

“Because they haven't had the chance to make that much yet.”

U'scna'bew grumbled, “You farmers and your livestock.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Bees aren't livestock.” Þo'rvalðr corrected,

“I thought you said 'livestock' meant anything you keep on your farm.”

“Sure, but that doesn't include bees. Bees, you see, they're not livestock, they're... bees.”

“But why aren't they livestock?”

“I don't know, they just aren't!”

Þo'rvalðr and U'scna'bew fell silent for some time. They could hear the bees buzzing from where they were.

“Are you sure they don't have any to spare right now?” U'scna'bew asked,

“Well...” Answered Þo'rvalðr, “I suppose they could spare a little. Just don't tell Mother.”

“Won't she see us do it from a window?”

“She's not home right now, she's helping a sick neighbour.”

Þo'rvalðr put on gloves and a hood and wrapped his face in a cloth, then took a torch with dried cattle dung on the end and lit it on fire. He used this to smoke the bees out and collect some honey in a jar before returning to U'scna'bew. The man took some of the honey and ate it.

His eyes shone as he said, “This is amazing! You must tell me as soon as you start harvesting more!”

“Just wait until you try some mead. It's even better!” Þo'rvalðr grinned.

“I'm gonna tell Mother you've been getting into the honey and she's not gonna be happy!” Þo'rði's called from the barn door,

“You stay out of other people's business you brat!” Þo'rvalðr called back.

* * *

Every year, He'lgi would spend some time living with the Holtmaðar and learned to speak their language. Not many summers passed like this when one summer, He'lgi made an extended stay. As the summer wore on, before it came to late summer2, they seemed to be preparing to leave.

Then, as now, it was the custom among the Holtmaðar for many bands to come together for a few weeks each summer before the leaves started to turn. They would trade, exchange news, settle disputes, and give their sons and daughters in marriage, much like Vi'nlandiskar do at the þingyt of today. But at that time, no Vi'nlandisk had ever been to one of these gatherings.

This year, however, U'scna'bew told He'lgi that they should come. “Some of the bands from far to the west have been wanting to trade, but it's too far to come all the way here. Also, since we've known each other for some time now, it'd be rude not to invite you.”

He'lgi went back to Gi'sls'tað and told them to make ready their ship.

“What's so great about this gathering anyway?” Asked Þo'rvalðr, “I'd rather stay here and watch the farm.”

“Has U'scna'bew ever told you he has a young, pretty, and unmarried daughter?” He'lgi asked;

“No...” Þo'rvalðr stared into the distance with a contemplative look in his eye, “He hasn't.”

Þo'rvalðr wore his green tunic and brown trousers for the occasion. He and the family prepared their ship, leaving behind a few huskatnar to watch Gi'sls'tað while Þo'rði's and Erma were sent to Ro'n'og's house. Among other Vi'nlandiskar, Ulvrin' came with them along with his son and some reindeer.

“What are those for?” Þo'rvalðr asked,

“One of the native bands wants to start a herd of their own. They're intrigued by the idea of living with reindeer. You heard of Caribou Man?”

“No.”

“Well, apparently he's a guy who went off to live with reindeer a long time ago and became their chief. They think maybe my people learned about reindeer herding from him.”

“Did they?”

“I don't know, I wasn't alive back then.”

The meeting place was in the end of a bay west of Tcise'gawþing, at the mouth of the river now called Mikin'fljo't3 at the place still called Ma'mwajtu'n4. When the Vi'nlandisk ship arrived at the mouth of Mikin'fljo't, they found the gathering in full swing. Holtmaðar from all around had come in canoes, which were drawn up on the beach. Each band had a cluster of wigwams made of sticks covered in caribou hides. People came out to watch as the longship anchored nearby.

Ulvrin' disembarked first, along with his son—who was in wolf form—and their reindeer. Þo'rvalðr, He'lgi, and Si'gvejg disembarked next and were greeted by U'scna'bew. In the centre of the camp there was ample open space where they brought their trade goods: knives, arrows, pots, axes, and other things made of metal. Si'gvejg stayed there a long time haggling over prices. Holtmaðar would come to trade pelts, beads, and carved objects of wood and bone, and He'lgi would interpret for them.

But Þo'rvalðr went with U'scna'bew, chatting amiably with him as they sat outside his wigwam. They were sitting talking about this and that for some time when they were interrupted by people shouting and screaming in shock. They looked up and saw Ulvrin' and his son Gjorbu, who was now in human form, surrounded by Holtmaðar. Ulvrin' was calmly explaining something to the crowd using the pidgin that was developing between the two peoples, but since neither language was his mother tongue, he was having a difficult time of it. The women were frightened and backing away and some of the men were fingering their weapons.

“What's got those people riled up?” Asked U'scna'bew,

“I imagine Gjorbu just transformed.” Þo'rvalðr answered,

“He what?”

“Transformed. His body went from the form of a wolf to the form of a boy.”

“How does that work? Are they close to the spirit of the Wolf Chief as well?”

Þo'rvalðr shrugged, “I don't know. Our two peoples may be neighbours back home, but the Finns have their own secrets, and they keep them well.”

He went and helped Ulvrin' calm people down before returning to U'scna'bew. He was only gone for a minute, but the man was suddenly nowhere to be seen. Instead, his daughter Mɨnu'tjew was there. She was wearing a white caribou hide dress that shone in the sunlight. It had red and blue patterns running in lines along length of it from neck to hem and on the sleeves too. The young woman was stitching pieces of caribou hide together.

Þo'rvalðr sat next to her and asked, “What are you doing?”

“I'm making boots for the one I will marry.”

“Who're you marrying? Is it that Na'nɨmyswa't fellow?”

“He's already married—to my sister. I'm still looking for a man, I'm just starting on the boots now so I'm ready when the time comes.”

“A woman who can make a good pair of boots would be a valuable wife to any man or orc-man.” He said,

“Indeed.” She replied, “In winter, they'll keep him warm when he's outside, and I'll keep him warm when he's inside.”

“That sounds great, but,” Þo'rvalðr took the boot she was working on and compared it to his foot; “I think it's too small for my size.”

Mɨnu'tjew looked him in the eye, then let her eyes wander lower; “I think I'm too small for your size too.” She took the boot back and added, “Why don't you look to one of your own kind, orc-man? There must be a orc-woman for you.”

“I tried that already. Orc-women are bitches. Maybe a woman who can make a caribou boot will be different.”

“Why's that?”

“There's magic out of the shoe.”

“Oh really? What kind of magic?”

Þo'rvalðr said:

“There's magic out of the shoe: the soul of the female.

The orc-woman: her rigid foot-abode.

The woman, her shoes are this way: and she now steps goodly.

You witness the shoe: you witness the soul.”5

Mɨnu'tjew stopped stitching and looked at him. “Give me that foot.” She said, “Just for an entirely theoretical point of reference, of course.”

They hit it off very well after that, talking on and on for hours.

Evening came, but that didn't end the event: on the contrary, things were just getting started. In the dying light of the sun, musical instruments were brought out and there were many songs and dances. Later, when everyone was tired, they sat down and stories were told about gods, heroes, beasts, and spirits as the Vi'nlandiskar and Holtmaðar traded tales deep into the night.

Vi'nlandiskar told tales of Þo'r's mighty exploits: of his many killings of his enemies, of the time when he went fishing for the world-serpent, and of how he will meet his end fighting that same serpent. They told of the trickster Lo'ki, and of the time when he traded insults with all the gods and goddesses in Ægir's hall.

Holtmaðar then got up and told stories of their own.

There once was a man who was greeted by a passing caribou. The caribou asked if he would like to come and live with him and his herd, to see how he liked life as a caribou. The man said that he didn't think he could do that. Men don't have fur coats like caribou. How could he make it through the winter? Men don't eat moss like caribou. How could he keep from starving? The caribou told him it would be fine, that he should take the risk and try the life of a caribou anyway. The man did, and eventually he became the chief of the caribou and all land animals, coming to be known as Caribou Man. Hunters must respect Caribou Man if they want to see any success in their endeavours.

Then there was the story of Ni'ba'de'n U'tci'maw6. Ni'ba'de'n U'tci'maw took the form of a human skeleton, blacker than the sky on a starless night. He stalks the night in search of prey and will take those who wander too far from home, or may even take children in their beds. He often sends nightmares to disturb people and disrupt communication with the other world. Yet, as a master of stealth, those who want to set an ambush for an enemy or stalk their prey properly must see to it that he, too, is respected.

Mɨnu'tjew leaned against Þo'rvalðr as they sat together and soon fell asleep. When nearly everyone else had gone to bed, Þo'rvalðr left her at the door to her family's wigwam and went to his ship, which had been tented over for the night.

On the second and third days, many weddings took place. These were extravagant affairs with excessive drum-playing, singing, and dancing. On the fourth day, Þo'rvalðr wore a red tunic, green trousers, and a beaver felt hat. First thing in the morning, he went to U'scna'bew's wigwam, where he found the family finishing breakfast at the door.

“U'scna'bew, I must propose to you,” he said, “that I should marry your daughter Mɨnu'tjew next summer.” They discussed the details then and there, and it was decided that two parties would be held. One would be at Ma'mwajtu'n the next year, the second would be a few weeks later at Gi'sls'tað.