Chapter 12: Sally Forth to Friendship

Stefan escorted the group to Dover's large home where the village meeting was being held. Katalin followed Rollo into the spacious hut. As she entered her gaze swept over the assembled faces - eight men including Stefan, with village elders Henry and Barni beside the imposing ox driver Dover at the head of the long table. Only two other women were present, Widow Helga and an unknown elderly woman seated together against the far wall. Katalin recognized the familiar auras in the room - mostly white, yellow, and soft brown, signaling neutrality. However, Helga stood out with her calming aura of soft blue and green.

Katalin studied Dover carefully, standing authoritatively before them. His craggy features suddenly contorted in anger upon seeing Rollo enter and his aura immediately changed to a mix of red, and an ugly green. Lurching into motion, Dover circumvented the heavy table with a stagger-stepped limp.

"You!" Dover bellowed, closing swiftly as he bore down on Rollo. Henry threw up calming hands but was roughly shoved aside as the ox driver remained solely focused on Rollo.

Katalin froze, stunned by the venomous outburst as the man she had rescued from the deadly river loomed toward Rollo's tense form. "You dung-faced whoremonger's brat!" Dover thundered.

Dover grasped Rollo's leather jerkin tightly with both hands, his muscular body quivering as he lifted Rollo off the ground. The force sent Rollo crashing into the wall and a pained gasp escaped his lips.

Reflexively, Katalin locked a hand onto Dover's hair and twisted back violently. As his scalp burned, Dover cried out. His grip failed and Rollo crashed down, knees striking the floor harshly.

As Dover fell backwards Katalin shook the tufts of hair free from her grip and reached to her belt for her warhammer.

Dover stumbled into the table, hampered by his injured foot. The crash of wood and pottery pierced the room. Finally toppled by his failing balance, Dover sprawled upon the worn floor planks. An agonized shout torn from his throat.

The ringing clatter of Dover's collapse had scarcely faded when two forms filled the doorway. Wulfgar was the first through, followed by Garren's steady presence.

Sneering curses at his impossible overthrow by Katalin, Dover struggled to rise. But his words fell away as he saw her standing before him gripping her hammer with Wulfgar stepping beside her, axe in hand.

The room hung still as stone. Until Helga burst forward, distress furrowing her sturdy features. "You barrel-headed lout! Attacking these good folk after they risked their lives for you!"

Dover stood and staggered back, fists hard by his sides. His glare swept Rollo still bracing against the wall, "I'd not been in the river if that spineless pigeon had moved the cart like I told him!"

Katalin lowered her hammer, elbowing Wulfgar to stand down as well. They each took a cautious step back but kept their weapons loosely gripped in case the blustering cart driver renewed his aggression.

At her side Rollo spoke up, failing to mask lingering pain from his violent introduction to the planked wall. "I tried getting that damned rig moving for you. It wouldn't move and you wouldn't take my hand when offered neither..."

Dover cut him off with a derisive snort, favoring his bandaged leg. "As if I'd need some mewling pup's help! My leg was pinned by the weight of the cart on the boards. If not, I'd have freed myself well enough."

Before tensions sparked further, Helga inserted herself between - sturdy hands anchored disapprovingly on broad hips. Before her, Dover loomed with his barrel chest puffed up, sucking in loud, furious breaths that echoed in the large room.

Katalin kept her tone level addressing the glowering man, "That wagon was perched halfway to ruin, pinned and twisting your ox in its traces. There was no way to move it."

Dover dismissed her with an imperial sweep of his hand and a curled lip. "Little girl, don't pretend at grasping what a man can or can't do!"

At that Wulfgar took a half step forward, but Katalin placed a hand on his arm, gently holding him back.

"Enough," Helga barked, palms raised. "Dover, I thought you called us here to discuss recovery from the storm's damages, not trade petty grievances?"

Dover shot Katalin one last scalding sneer before pointedly turning his back and stomping to his chair at the head of the long table. He slumped down and glared at those around him until they were also seated.

At Helga's gentle urging, Garren, Wulfgar and Rollo took seats along the right-side bench. Katalin moved to join them, but Helga redirected her toward an elderly woman standing at the rear of the long hall.

"Katalin - may I present Thora, the mother of Orso, seamstress of our little village."

Thora gave a kind smile as recognition sparked in Katalin's eyes. "So, you're the brave dear I mended those hose for! The state they were in, I don't know how your toes weren't frozen."

Katalin interjected earnest thanks for repairing the almost ruined stockings she had worn during that desperate flight here. As they took places on the hard plank bench however, an uneasy realization grew. Glancing meaningfully toward the men lining the head table, she started to rise in objection...

But Helga placed a hand on her knee and with a subtle shake of her head and pleading eyes, whispered for her to stay. With grudging restraint, Katalin retook her seat beside the women along the back wall, holding her tongue as Dover began the meeting with officious bluster.

Dover started barking orders on what everyone was to do regarding the crisis and recovery efforts.

Barni and Thora were instructed to go to town and see the carpenters, explaining they needed people to thoroughly inspect the damaged bridge span and determine what materials and effort would be required for repairs.

Helga was told to join them going to the junction and speak with the mayor and arrange for carters or packers to be dispatched daily up the river trail. These would retrieve loads of their stockpiled charcoal until his cart was back in use.

Henry was ordered to organize the rest of the village women and children. Their task would be loading the empty kiln as much as they could. The men would finish it when they returned and start the burn. Dover reasoned that they would only lose two days of production at most if they worked hard and followed his directions.

While he spoke Katalin whispered a question to Helga, "Is Dover the village mayor?"

Helga answer, "No. My Arktos was our leader, but when he died Dover just took charge and no one has ever challenged him about it."

Turning her attention back to the front she saw that Dover was scanning the faces around the room as he asked bluntly if anyone objected or had additions to his commands. Silence held for a moment until Garren spoke up from the side bench asking how they might best assist the recovery.

Dover informed him the remainder of the village men were going to retrieve the wagon from where it lay in the river shallows. If the visitors felt up to wet, heavy work they were welcomed to lend their backs and shoulders to help.

As the brusque ox driver concluded, Katalin expected the room to empty quickly as villagers hurried to their assigned tasks. But surprisingly no one moved to depart.

Instead, faces turned eagerly toward Helga as she stood smoothing her woolen skirt. "Let's not keep our sweet darling waiting!" the sturdy woman decreed with a playful smile. Young Stefan dutifully pulled open the entry door.

Sally darted swiftly inside, making straight for Helga with her cherished sack clutched tight. Seeing the girl take her accustomed place, smiles creased weathered faces. The men shuffled into an orderly queue as villagers - women and eager children alike - started filtering into the back of the room.

Katalin's curiosity piqued at this clearly long-held tradition in the remote hamlet. She watched as Henry, the first man in line, stooped before little Sally, meeting the smiling girl at eye-level to receive a gift drawn reverently from her bulging travel-sack.

"Apple!" Henry declared jubilantly, displaying his gift for all to observe. "Apple!" the crowded room resounded.

Henry smiled broadly and leaned in to give Sally a hug and to kiss her cheek, thanking her sincerely. Sally's face lit up with pleasure.

Henry rose to depart as the next villager knelt for an apple, following the same routine. Holding the fruit up and calling out "Apple!" to have it happily chorused back, followed by a hug and a kiss for Sally.

Katalin joined her friends standing aside watching events unfold with bemusement. Wulfgar said to her, "Our girl's smile warms brighter with each humble gift. If it were darkest night, I believe she would light the room."

Katalin nodded in agreement and noted the wetness rimming Garren's eyes despite his broad smile. Seeing her watching him, Garren just shrugged and joined in with the villagers shouting "Apple!" with each presented gift.

When the elder Barni was up, Sally delved shoulder-deep within the bag. Bypassing the fruit, she presented a prize raising laughter in the thinning crowd - "Onion!" Barni announced proudly.

Departing amid chorused cries of "Onion!", Barni bit firmly into his beloved treat and smiled at Garren as he exited, "Fruits and sweetbreads make the youngsters soft, lad! Best toughen your fellows on honest roots."

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Katalin tallied the parade of gift recipients, not counting Thora and Helga who had yet to receive an apple, she had counted eight village men, three women, four rosy-cheeked girls of whom Adrianne was the oldest, and a duo of young boys. She noted that Dover had not come forward for a gift, and looking around saw that he was no longer in the hut. Katalin did not doubt that the girl's father felt this whole scene was beneath him.

After Thora received her gift, only Helga remained. She knelt in front of Sally to receive her apple and gave Sally a long, tight hug. Standing, the sturdy woman went to Katalin and gripped her arm tightly in earnest gratitude.

Sally hefted the bag and looked inside. Then beaming happily she extracted another apple and extended it to Katalin. With a wide smile Katalin knelt, accepting the fruit passed from the small hand into her own rough palm. "Apple," Katalin spoke clearly, displaying the symbol of sweetness and joy over her head and those still gathered joyfully chorused it back.

In turn, each of Katalin's companions took a knee before the girl - Rollo abashed yet proud, Garren's face split by a pleased grin. When only Wulfgar remained he knelt and watched as little Sally pawed deep into her sack to unearth a singular prize. Up came a large gleaming apple, polished smooth and full bodied, which the beaming girl bestowed with bright eyes upon her new friend. But before taking the gift Wulfgar ask if she had saved any for herself. Sally nodded and lifted the sack and knocked it on the floor showing it was not empty. At that Wulfgar accepted the gift and followed the established routine. Only then did Sally reach into the bag and pull out another apple which she happily bit into.

"Run along to Henry now, Sally dear," Helga directed, and watched the beaming girl darted eagerly to join her peers.

The sturdy woman then turned to Katalin and her companions. "Right, the men are likely already heading to the river to recover the wagon." Leading them outside she started them walking toward the road to the bridge, "Come along with Thora, Henry and me. We'll drop you at the work site and the three of us will continue on into town."

Katalin fell in step beside her. "Will there be a problem getting transportation secured?"

"I don't think so," Helga said. "The junction has other sources of wood and coal, but it would hurt to lose ours for overly long. He will have carters or packers coming to us in a day or two."

As their group crossed the village center, Katalin spotted old Barni leading the women and children toward the largest building. Helga explained that was where the cut wood was stored and dried before being fed to a kiln. She gestured at the seven large beehive like structures in a semi-circle around the village. Smoke curled from all the kilns but two. Helga described the normal everyday process of charcoal burning. Henry and Thora would go into the forest and tag which trees were due to be cut. They would sometimes take Stefan or Arni so they could learn how to manage the trees. Every day at least half the men would be out in the forest either cutting trees or dragging them back to the village using Fluffy's brother, Otto.

Hearing the name of the other ox Katalin raised an eyebrow and Helga shrugged, "Generally we let the children pick names for the animals."

Helga paused as Thora and Barni joined them, then continued with her description, "The rest of the men and women would work stripping the fresh trees as they were brought in or working with the kilns. One kiln would be loaded and the burn started. One would be unloaded either into the cart or into the storage shed, here Helga gestured to another of the buildings about the same size as their huts. "We have about a week's worth of deliveries saved up. That should cover any lapse if we get behind."

Helga waved a hand to one of the two smokeless kilns, "Henry's crew will start filling that one while we march down to the river muck. If it doesn't take too long to pull out the cart, the men will be back, and finish loading it this afternoon and start the burn. That will leave us just one day off." She pointed to the other kiln with no smoke rising from it, "That one was to be unloaded today and most of it loaded onto the cart with the rest put into the shed. Tomorrow we can unload and reload it in one day but keeping more of the men here to do that will put us behind on the cutting. But better to reduce the wood we have on hand than let one of the kilns sit idle. There is going to be hard work for a bit while we catch up but we should be alright."

As they walked, Garren queried, "Who bears the cost of rebuilding the crossing and hauling the coal to town?"

"We answer to the mayor who in turn answers to Lord Alaric - all this land is Stonehaven's domain," Helga replied. “Though His Grace doesn’t travel out himself much, unless it is to hunt or put down some beast that has come from the deep woods. It's usually his man Sir Lysander or one of his assistants handling affairs in the forest hamlets."

She shook her head wryly. "Hopefully the Duke's coin covers repairs without cutting from our wages. He is a just ruler, but well...purse strings oft pinch closest to common pockets, as my Arktos used to say..."

They continued conversing about life at the collier hamlet until the group arrived at the river bend where Dover's ox cart was mired about twenty feet from shore.

Katalin noted ropes already anchored the sunken rig in place to prevent it from washing further down river. Several of the men were stripping down preparing to wade into the muddy shallows of the freezing river.

Helga and company bid temporary farewells then headed onward to the junction to make the needed arrangements. Witnessing the scene, another man from the village Katalin had not met approached and introduced himself as Orso Skyforson. He then pointed to one of the men already sloshing into the water and identified him as his son Arni and said he believed Katalin already knew his mother, Thora. The grizzled villager told the four strangers that he was glad for extra hands and offered grateful thanks for their efforts.

Orso turned to Katalin saying "Word is you were in the flooding yesterday and even managed to pull our overgrown leader from the river. Care to lend your skills where the cart sank down?"

Katalin instinctively drew back at the thought of going back into the freezing river. "I'm sorry, but I would prefer to avoid the water for a while."

Orso chuckled, "No matter. We regularly go into the river during winter. The heat of the sauna followed by a roll in the snow or a dip in the water enlivens the soul. Makes you healthy."

Katalin nodded, taking in Orso's words. "I'll keep that in mind," she replied with a faint smile.

As they spoke, Orso gestured toward a group of men setting up a wooden frame nearby. "If you men don't mind, you can help us haul the cart out while those in the water lift," he offered.

Curious, Katalin asked about the unfamiliar men.

Orso explained that they were journeymen carpenters, early that morning a runner went to town to ask them to assist with the recovery efforts. He described how the carpenters would put ropes over the frame before tying them to the cart. Additionally, two ropes would be run out to the sides to aid in pulling the cart out of the river.

Garren nodded at the way things were being set up. "We'll gladly lend a hand with one of the ropes." Orso nodded in agreement and moved to join the group at the frame.

Two ropes were put over the frame and two ropes were run out to the sides, then one end of each was pulled out to the cart and tied off. Garren, Wulfgar, Rollo, and Katalin moved to the rope on one side and positioned themselves alongside the line, ready to lend their strength to the task at hand.

Garren glanced across to where Orso stood alone by the rope on the opposite side of the cart. He nodded to Rollo, gesturing for him to join him. Rollo, ever obedient, hurried to the other side without hesitation.

While the ropes were being run out and tied, Dover had undressed and attempted to enter the icy river. However, the moment his wounded foot touched the frigid water, a sharp cry of agony escaped his lips. Grimacing, he stumbled backward and fell, cursing vehemently as he massaged his throbbing foot. The men of the village made it a studious point to not stare, or even glance at the fallen giant. With frustration etched on his face, he swiftly donned his clothes and limped over to the three men at the frame and seized one of the ropes for himself, his grip tight and unwavering. Two of the men took the second rope, acknowledging his presence with deference. The third man went to the rope where Rollo and Orso stood.

Katalin observed intently as Stefan, Arni, and another man submerged themselves in the icy water, repeatedly diving down and resurfacing. Wulfgar leaned in to explain that they were working to remove as much mud as possible from the wagon's submerged frame.

After what seemed an eternity of toiling in the frigid river, the men signaled to those at the ropes, indicating that they were ready to lift the cart. With synchronized effort, the men in the water strained to free the cart from the mud, their muscles bulging with exertion as they hoisted the heavy cart. As the cart finally came free, the river's current tugged at it, threatening to drag it downstream.

"Go, go!" someone shouted, and the groups at the ropes pulled with determination. However, the arduous task took its toll, and the men in the river were forced to stop every few feet to rest and reposition before lifting again. With each exertion, inch by hard-won inch, they battled against the river's pull until finally, with grunts of effort and strained muscles, they succeeded in dragging the cart to the safety of the shore.

The men emerging from the river quickly sought warmth, grabbing wool towels laid out by the fire to dry off before wrapping themselves in cloaks and huddling around the crackling flames.

Meanwhile, Orso and one of the carpenters led the rest of the men in examining the cart, carefully pointing out the extent of the damage. One of the front wheels bore the brunt of the impact, several spokes and a section of the rim were broken, and the tyre—an iron band encircling the wheel—was dented, though thankfully the iron hub, and the axle remained intact. Orso highlighted several bent support brackets, and where some were missing altogether.

Dover, ever the leader and eager to contribute, asked Orso if he could make the repairs. Orso nodded, "I can fix the bent brackets and replace the missing ones easily enough," he explained, "but we'll need to take the wheel to town."

Katalin studied the wheel and shook her head, it was a simple job and she had done similar work countless times. "Too bad you don't have a forge and the tools I need. If you had the wheel parts, I could fix this," she remarked wistfully.

The villagers glanced at her in surprise, prompting Orso to speak up. "I have a forge, of sorts," he admitted. "I maintain the axes and saws and handle simple repairs around the village."

Katalin turned to Garren, her eyes earnest as she asked, "Can we stay a bit to help?"

Garren glanced at Wulfgar, silently deferring to his judgment. Wulfgar, ever pragmatic, studied the sky for a moment before responding, "The day is more than half over. We wouldn't get far before dark anyway."

Garren nodded in agreement, then turned back to Katalin. "Alright," he conceded, "but we leave in the morning."

Encouraged by the decision, Katalin turned to Orso and the carpenters. "Can you get the parts to replace the broken spokes?" she inquired.

Orso's expression brightened with assurance. "We should," he replied looking to the carpenters who nodded in agreement. "It's a standard wheel; we should have them to hand."

The swimmers quickly dressed, while the fire was put out and the ropes were recovered and coiled. Stefan, Arni and one of the carpenters set off beside the river heading to the junction to procure the necessary parts, while the remaining two carpenters began disassembling their wooden frame.

Left behind, the remaining villagers carefully maneuvered the cart, rolling it with cautious precision back to the safety of the village. Each step was taken with care, mindful of the wagon's fragile state. The villagers had to support the corner with the broken wheel, ensuring it stayed off the ground while they rolled forward. It was a delicate balance, but with united effort, they guided the cart along the familiar path, eager to see it restored to its former state.

Once back at the village Orso led Katalin around the back of his home, where a simple hearth for a forge awaited. The mid-afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the outdoor workshop, illuminating the familiar tools of her trade. It had been at least a week since the fire last roared to life, leaving the hearth now silent and still. Yet, despite the absence of its fiery glow, the sight still stirred something deep within her--a longing for the familiar rhythms of the forge, the dance of metal in the flames, and the symphony of hammer striking anvil.

With each step, Orso pointed out the key features of his setup--a large wooden block with a thick iron top serving as an anvil, a water trough nearby fed by a hand pump, and a shed housing an assortment of tools. Inside, a small bellows lay dormant, surrounded by an array of hammers, tongs, files, and rasps. Leather gloves and an apron hung nearby, waiting to be donned by skilled hands.

As Orso finished his tour and stepped back, allowing Katalin to take in the sight before her, she felt a growing excitement that bubbled up from deep within her chest. It had been too long since she had last practiced her craft, too long since she had felt the weight of a hammer in her hand or the familiar touch of metal against her skin. But now, standing amidst the familiar tools of her trade, she felt a renewed sense of purpose--a determination to reclaim her identity as a blacksmith, no matter the challenges that lay ahead.