What else is there to say about my first season? There is nothing much more to it that I can add. At least nothing interesting. I worked two months on the sea and the shore. I grew calluses on my hands and learnt how to do hard work. Sleeping in the open without the skills nor equipment drove every lesson in fieldcraft home. Every moment spent at work was a blessing. Any break or lack of supervision was an opportunity for Hass to have his fun. I do not know when or why but at some point, his harassment turned into genuine hate. I avoided him when I could. Eric saw to it that any attempt to fight back would end in a one-sided beating.

Winston had caught Hass burning my belongings and put an end to that by throwing him into sea. Erik took an offense to that beat Winston bloody. He didn’t like it when somebody picked on someone weaker. He held him pinned to the sand and began mashing his face in with his fists. Everybody stood aside and just watched it happen. I had a problem with people being self-righteous pricks, so I picked up a stone and struck him with my sling. I got his shoulder and the stone fractured something there.

Everybody was none too pleased by my action. Apparently, I had crossed a line with my intervention. Winston lost an eye for me that day. Erik had blinded him in his left but that was acceptable. Interrupting a fight between two men with a weapon was dishonorable. I didn’t see much honor in a bigger man hitting first and hitting hard from behind. Wulfric told me to apologize to Erik, I told him to go fuck himself. He struck me across my face and drew blood. It was the second time somebody bigger than me split my lip. You would have expected me to have learnt my lesson the first time. What can I say, I’m a slow learner. I spat a glob of blood at his boots. He broke my arm. So much for his oath to see me no harm.

Winston recovered in a fashion. I set his nose right and did my best for his face. He healed up well and would later tell me that the women found his scars exciting. How much of that was true I leave for your own speculation. What I could not do was fix his left eye. That was gone and would not come back. He never held me responsible for what happened that day. He may have never thought more of the event after that, but I did. It was typical of him to be like that…

It was a strange time. Did I enjoy the hardships and rigorous? In a strange way I did. I learnt more about life in those two months than I had ever done at home. My father did his best to shield me from it all but the truth is that life is a shithole. Duplicity and ruthlessness are virtues if not necessities. Oskar gave me the finest piece of advice on that trip. “Win. Nobody cares how you won just that you did.” It took me a while to understand the entirety of his words, but I get it now. Honor and justice do exist after a fashion, but they are sole reserve of the privileged. In some ways it makes it even more hypocritical. I… Pay me no heed. I am the Briar Thorn, what would I know of honor?

Some of you may be surprised that I continued to work for Wulfric until the very end. Despite his proclivities I wanted his approval. Yes, even after I told him to go forth and multiply. He was larger than life and could be both generous and petty. I recognize it as a childish attachment to someone who would never reciprocate the relationship I wanted. He was not my father, nor would he have made a good one. I suppose I was little better when it was my turn.

What else is there to say? Like I said before there wasn’t much. We worked hard and we went home. We ended the season well with our holds full of clear oil. There was some truth to Wulfric’s dream of wealth when I discovered several pounds of ambergris. I would have to thank Hass for that discovery. It was late at night and I was asleep in my bedroll. I was woken by the weight of something pressing on my face. I opened my eyes in a panic to see what was happening. Somebody was pressing something down into my mouth to keep me gagged. The shadows made things hard to see but I tried to push my assailant off me. I had no luck as I was wrapped tight in my bedroll and blankets. Unable to shout I squirmed as hard as I could. A blow to my midriff knocked all the struggle out of me. I was winded and my eyes watered. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw Hass and two other tying up my blanket with me in it. He caught my eye and put a knife to his lips. The gesture was obvious. Make a racket and things will get a lot worse.

They carried me off into the darkness away from the camp. I feared for my life and lay limp in their grasp. I honestly do not know if Hass would have killed me there and then. He was no killer, I learnt of that when I went to war. One thing I did know then was that he hated me and liked hurting me. To everyone else he was a witty and likeable young man. They carried me off into the night. There was some snickering and muttered conversation but none of it was addressed to me. After a sudden stop they unceremoniously dumped me into something soft and rank. For a moment I feared they dropped me into the ocean, but the impact of ground drove the air from my lungs. I took a gasp of putrid air and gagged on it. Looking around helplessly I never saw the boot that came to my face.

I woke with a shudder. It was frightfully cold, and the air was stifling. My body felt slimy and I was utterly disoriented. Something fowl was in my mouth and I tried to rise from the cold moist slurry. I yelped when I realized that I had been sleeping in a pile of gore. I spat out what was in my mouth to discover that I had been stripped naked and thrown up on myself. An overwhelming panic seized me, and I found it hard to breath. Collapsing to the ground I dragged myself through the butcher’s waste. Along the way something hard pressed into my body. I fished my hands through the mess to find a strange rock the size of my forearm. I moved it away but kept ahold of it. I don’t know why I did it, but I was glad I did. When was I free of the gore I lay on the grass shuddering. I cried and threw up bile until there was nothing left in me. I don’t know how long I remained that way, but I regained control when I felt the sun on my skin. It was warm. Something changed that day. Rather all the things leading up to this moment had culminated in this lesson. Rising from the waste I walked away towards the sound of the sea.

I returned to the camp naked but clean. In one hand I held the strange stone that came the gore with me. It was oddly light and waxy in its properties. Onlookers laughed as I entered camp cold and shivering. I laughed as well because it was good to laugh. Everybody shut up then, I think I made them uneasy. As naked as the day I was born I felt no shame. Why should anyone? Walking to my sleeping spot I found that my belongings were missing. It turned out that Winston had kept them safe when he discovered that I had gone missing. He found me warming myself by a fire. He asked where I had disappeared to and if I was alright. I just smiled at him. He flinched for some reason and handed me my belongings.

I dressed into a fresh shirt but was missing a pair of pants. Winston offered me a spare pair, but I knew somewhere where I could get some. I let my shirt hang low and found my belt untouched in my bag. I had taken it off to sleep and I was thankful I had. Strapping it on I tucked my rock and penknife into a pouch and loop. I took my shillelagh and wandered off into camp. Wulfric had us all beached to help render the grease. We had caught a juvenile leviathan a few days prior. It was a sperm whale, a giant larger than the full-grown mink. It was in its refuse I was thrown into. What was deemed useful was being rendered in large cauldrons. The smell of ash and blood was still in the morning air.

Walking through camp I found a face I was looking for. He was one of the younger hires a part of the crew. Small and not very well liked he was nevertheless a part of Erik’s sycophants, ergo a friend of Hass. More importantly he had the closest size fit of trousers. When he saw me, he leered and sidled up to me.

“Hey where are your pants kid?”

He was barely older than me.

“Good morning isn’t it?”

“I said where are your pants. Did you go to Stans tent - “?

I struck him between the legs and felt a satisfying give. He wheezed and fell to his knees.

“What the- “

Now that his head was in a better position, I went on to bludgeon him repeatedly. Meaty thwacks ended in a crack and a burst of fluid. He fell over and leaked a clear liquid onto the ground. There wasn’t all that much blood to be told. There were some flecks of flesh and hair stuck to my cane, but I picked that off with the boy’s shirt. I think his name was Ewan or something other. It was all over very quickly. One of the adults approached me while I was stripping the pants off the body. He had voided his bowels in that short time but his under garments had caught all of it. He must have lost control in terror; it takes a while before corpses loosen theirs. The man looked at me in a mixture of awe and disgust.

“What have you done boy? Why did you kill him?”

“I needed pants. Look I can pay for them.”

I raised the waxy chunk I took for a stone and waved it at his face.

“Get Wulfric.”

In the impromptu trial that followed afterwards, Wulfric administered justice as he was both captain and a speaker of the law. Ewan had attacked me out of avarice when he recognized that I was holding on to several pounds of ambergris. I had responded in self-defense and accidently killed my assailant. I was reprimanded for making such an overt display of wealth. I was told that I should take steps to keep such things hidden and safe. Out of gratitude for his wisdom I donated a hefty share of my find to the Captain and the senior members of the crew. I had just won myself a reputation and allies from my morning’s actions. Along with a pair of trousers.

We made a long triangular voyage back home. Our holds were full, and I had a boat load of new enemies and allies coming back. Once you get close to the Isles there isn’t much of a view at sea. A thick fog surrounds the surrounding oceans and seeing the sun itself is a rarity. For now, Wulfric held me in a fine regard. The ambergris I had picked up was worth as nearly as much as the entire seasons haul in oil. The profits were sweeter because none of it was going to be factored into the crews share. I had enough sense to say that I found it on the beach on my way back and not in the whales’ innards. That way it was a private find not a product of the crews work. We would not be sharing the money as was stipulated in the contract. Winston had not seen what I had done and wholeheartedly trusted Wulfric’s verdict. Erik and Hass wanted justice. Too bad they had no leverage.

“Should you find yourself needing work, come and find me. I’ll be in Lighthouse Keep until I get my money.”

“What kind of work?”

“The kind you will be good at.”

Oskar’s offer was unexpected but welcome. I had no intention of taking him up, but events would necessitate otherwise. I was more interested in going home. I had no thoughts for the future or what I would do. I just wanted to lie in my bed and curl up with a book under a blanket. I think I wanted to be a child again. I know, it is a laughable sentiment… I apologies I am at it again.

We entered the harbor on a foggy morning. Then again, every morning was foggy on the Isles. We had spent the night at the benches. There are no close moorings near the Isles, so we had to spend a night on the waves. It played havoc with our backs and legs but there was little of the sourness to be expected from such an evening. We were going home and all that separated us from it were a last few mile of smooth sailing. We caught sight of the eponymous lighthouse a day ago at sea. We all knew it was close by the strange effect it had on all of us. But seeing it was something else. Now under the shadow of the colossus we knew we were safe.

On our final approach we passed one of the giant quinquereme’s that served in the Averntide Fleet. I watched in awe as the double deck rowing compartments bustled with activity. The very wake of the warship sent waves to our smaller vessels. Atop the fighting platforms stood the marines and huskarls of the Lord Protector. I should say housecarl not huskarl, the latter is the Northmen way of saying it. For all our similarities we had notably diverged from each other. The housecarl of today has more in common with the continental knight than their traditional northern cousins. Wulfric spat when he saw the ship pass by. He disapproved of all southern influences; they were all effete merchants in his eyes. He had yet to face the terror that was a highborn aristocrat in battle.

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When we finally landed on shore, I was tempted to just drop everything and walk home. I stayed behind in the end and helped with the unloading of the ship. We were literally handling barrels of our pay, so the load seemed less burdensome. Whilst we were hauling away a harbor official had approached our landing and was handled customs. He would tax a percentage of our cargos worth according to current market prices. Wulfric haggled and he was probably charged more than he should have been. It was typical of him to have no idea how much anything cost. I could have helped but I had no enthusiasm for that task.

Taxes paid and cargo unloaded we were all free to go back home. We would be paid upon the sale of our goods. Whalers usually had two options on how they sold their catch. The more reliable captains pre negotiated the price of their cargo prior to setting sale. There were all sorts of rates and stipulations, but it was the most reliable way to earn profits. The other was to gamble on the market and hope you could find a generous buyer. Wulfric despite having reliable returns, more or less opted for the latter whenever he sold. He was a habitual gambler. Again, I could have tried to say something, but I just wanted to go home. So, I did.

Winston and I walked up the cobbled street to our respective houses. I planned on waving him off but when it became time to part, he lifted me in a bear hug. I normally would have struggled and thrown a fit to get him off me. But I could not say a word when I saw the milky orb of his left eye blindly looking at me. I just gently hugged him back until he let me down.

“Be careful Eddie. I don’t like the looks the other boys were giving you. If you have any trouble come find me.”

Gods that hurt. His one good eye held nothing but concern for me. The other was the legacy of him trying to help me. I just nodded unable to get any words out.

“Well it’s been an adventure and then some little brother. I don’t think it was quite like anything we expected but I’m glad we’re back. I’m going to be a cooper. I know that for sure now. That will be my first and last adventure. See you around.”

He left and we both went our separate ways. I think it was the whales that really put him off going to sea. He hated their desperate moans and the pain we caused. Bless him I think he truly felt no rancor for his injuries. It was the nature of the work was distasteful to him. Unfortunately, that would not be his last adventure. He was right about the other thing though. The boys had not taken kindly to my acquisition of new pants. It was ironic that they had never liked Ewan in the first place but were now up in arms about him. He had been the butt of their jokes and abuse. When they took to me, he had joined in the with no small amount of relish. Suffering does not teach you empathy, it just makes you mean.

Ah you disagree with my killing of the boy. Is it so egregious that I did? I merely escalated the eventual conflict to its natural conclusion. Someone would have died if I carried on the way I did. Most likely me. I carried out the most beneficial course of action and was rewarded for it. My only mistake was thinking that everything would end there and that there would be no repercussions. Never leave a job unfinished.

My homecoming was… difficult. Not to say that my family were unwelcoming. They were jubilant with my return. My sister was half besides herself with stern lecturing and concerned fussing. Father closed shop early and gave me one of his rare smiles. We had an impromptu feast that night. Stan sent us all home with several pounds of salted whale. We had largely filled our holds with oil but we each packed some goods of our own. We were not poor, but meat was a luxury not always on the table. We ate a lot of oats, barley, root vegetables, and fish. It was mutton or goat on the few days we purchased any. It’s not like the south where it is temperate enough for wheat or flat enough for grazing. I admit that the average peasant does not enjoy fine dining wherever they are. Auburn however is far more blessed with abundance than any other land I have ever seen. Father prepared the bounty I had bought with me. We enjoyed the meal and I bragged that it tasted like beef. Not that I had ever tasted beef by that point, but in retrospect it does taste similar.

The difficulty came in the following days. I checked in with Wulfric and he told me that he was in negotiations with a buyer for the oil. It would take a few days, but I was in no rush. He had managed to flog the ambergris immediately though. I knew he would cheat me, but I went along with it anyway. It was more a bribe more than anything. Besides, I did not have the means or ability to dispute him.

I walked home with a full purse heavy with schillings. Back then we only had silver pennies and schillings, we had yet to adopt the gold pound. I am sure we northerners give you continentals headaches with our money system. And as tangential as all this is, I would like to highlight just how poor we were as a nation. Well quasi-federated nation. It will help you understand what comes later. We had so little spending power we did not need gold currency. Transactions of that size was solely done in bullion.

My father raised an eyebrow when he saw the money I had come back with. It was several months’ worth of what he made. I had expected him to be pleased with me or at least be impressed. I recognized the stillness he had that moment and knew he was not very pleased with me. He told me to keep the money and that we would talk once the day was done. He dismissed me saying he did think it appropriate for me to work the shop. I felt like I had been slapped in the face.

Dinner eaten in silence that day. Hilda tried to make conversation, but she was unsuccessful. I had an idea of what my father wanted to talk about. So, I waited for the eventual conversation to happen. My sister was sent to her room after the meal. He wanted to have this talk just between us.

“The Stockton’s visit the shop this morning.”

“The who?”

He grimaced but tried to keep a neutral tone.

“Ewan’s parents visited. They had some disturbing things to say about what happened on your trip.”

“Did they?”

“They said that he died.”

“He did.”

I knew that I was pushing him, but I could not help myself. The madness was in me again. I wanted him to get angry. I wanted to be angry. It was an irrational and unworthy sentiment, and I knew that. I reigned in the rising impertinence.

“He died on the trip, yes. It was self-defense.”

“That is not what I was told.”

“What did they say?”

“Is that important?”

“Yes.”

We sat staring at each other from across the table. Again, I felt the desire to be flippant.

“They said you murdered him in cold blood.”

“Do they? And what does the magistrate say?”

“I do not know. Is that what is what is important!”

“Frankly yes. It was a lawful act of…”

I think he knew I had killed the kid. He was my father; he knew me too well. I crossed an irreversible line between us that day. The magistrate was informed by Wulfric and he had far more influential witnesses than the Stockton’s. My actions were just, and I walked as a free man. A letter was sent to our house informing us of the situation. The whole process had taken less than a day and I had never seen the magistrate at all. A quick review and the stroke of a quill. Justice had been arbitrated. Outwardly my father took the pronouncement at face value. Not because he believed it but because he needed to. I laughed so hard at the letter I cried myself to sleep that night.

Wulfric’s buyer was must have been dragging his heels because the wait turned days and the days into a week. The money did not bother me but the attention I received did. Erik and Hass had started a racket about getting a lynching mob out for my head. The Stockton’s were too poor to hire a lawyer, and they were far too intimidated by Wulfric to raise a hand against him. Hass on the other hand knew that Wulfric cared only so as much to not have his authority unchallenged. If I were killed in some back alley, he would not care any less.

My ankle had recovered but I took to carrying my shillelagh everywhere I went. Thrown stones and damages to our house became ever increasingly common. I made the mistake of thinking that things would settle down if I gave it time. I knew that it would only boil over into violence, but I wanted to believe that I had a future here. It was a fantasy. I did not even know what I would do next if there was no conflict. Things grew distant between me and my family. I avoided Winston and the house as much as I could. That way they felt the least amount of the backlash from my actions. I returned home late with blood on my face and torn clothing. A gulf had opened between us that would not close.

The week turned to weeks and now tensions were boiling amongst the crew. We had not been paid and the men not from the city were burning through their expenses to collect their pay. A rumor had begun floating around that I was responsible for the holdup. How a twelve-year-old child could do that was far from certain. They had seen me do the books and apparently that was enough. I have come to discover that the plausibility of a scapegoat is secondary to having one. This suited Wulfric just fine as it turned their ire away from him. He made no efforts to quash the rumors. Either way I started receiving far more brazen attacks.

I was alone and directionless. I felt high strung and was tired of everything. Wulfric eventually got his money and we were paid. There was no small amount of grumbling when the crew collected their shares. The money was good, but it came too late for their liking. As we left the dockside warehouse Wulfric had rented out, I overheard greater sentiments of dissatisfaction. Most went to drink houses to drain their pay. I had the notion to follow them at a distance. Hass was going from group to group and that made me suspicious. My hackles were raised, and I knew he was up to no good. It was a decision that would set into motion the course of my life.

I had never tailed anyone before, but I found it to be an easier task than expected. Especially so if your target does not know they have a tail. They were there to drink, and I was particularly cautious with my approach. Erik had entered an ale house with his friends. I waited outside for a while before slipping in myself. They were at a table with drinks and were enjoying themselves. A child my age had no business in a tavern, so I did my best to improvise. Approaching the bar, I waited for the attention of the proprietor.

“I’d like a bottle of the clear stuff please. Me pa told me to come get some.”

“Did he now young man? Ow’ much?”

“Pa said to get a schilling worth of the rough stuff. The kind at would poison the fishes.”

I apologies for the dockside dialect. My father never touched drink outside the occasional cup of ale. I had however seen and heard enough from the streets to have a decent enough grasp of things. Confidence is often all that is required to pull off a ruse. Not that the barkeep needed much convincing. I was a paying customer after all. You seem surprised about the whole affair Messer Martin. Ah you are surprised that a child so young was allowed into an ale house. Of all the thing you could be… never mind.

The proprietor returned in a moment and placed a featureless green bottle on the bar. I placed my silver in return. Having justified my reason to be here I now needed to collect information before I drew any attention. The alehouse was a two-story building that had a single taproom which served as the front of commerce. There was a bar and a few low tables to seat patrons. It was a typical alehouse that served its namesake and a few other more potent options. There were a healthy number of patrons about and I tried to blend in.

I did not need to be especially perceptive nor patient to hear all that I needed to. They were loud and boisterous with their conversation. When you are young and have a pocket full of silver, what need do you have for moderation? They were well on the way to intoxication within their first few rounds. They drank like fishes and grew ever more vocal. I noticed that Hass had taken his drinks slowly. He was less tipsy than his compatriots. Their conversation soon came to the topic I was most concerned of, me. I will not go into details. It was all very unpleasant but relatively un-concerning. Just bluster and bravado, it was no worse than I expected. I grew more attentive when Hass bought Winston up in their conversation. He was a talented manipulator. I did not catch much of what he was saying but he never overtly said anything. He just bought up desired points and nudged the flow of conversation to his desired conclusions. He was thwarted in his attempts to bring Winston into this. My brother whilst not a part of their group was still liked by most. Many of Erik’s cronies disagreed with him blinding Winston, they too just never overtly vocalized their dissatisfaction. That bought a smile to my face. Everybody liked Winston. They could hurt me, and I would take it. Hass’ next words however made my blood go cold.

“I know he has a sister.”

“Oh?”

“Skinny bitch. Looks pretty enough.”

Enough for what though? He just dropped in comments and waited for his intentions to form in the minds of others. Hass was dangerous and I needed to do something before he hurt my family.

I returned home late that night. The lights were out, and everybody had gone to sleep. Whilst I had usually come home late, I never stayed out till dark like this. Nobody had waited for me nor do I think looked for me. It was a lonely feeling as I quietly went to my bedroom. I closed the door and sat heavily on my bed. I had to go. This place was not my home anymore. I knew that there was no place for me here. I lay on my bed staring at the familiar ceiling. It was ironic. How many times had I dreamed of leaving as I lay there? Maybe I could spend one more night in my bed before I was gone for good. Footsteps in the hallway interrupted my thoughts. I lay still as they passed my door and went to the end of the corridor. From the sound of things, it was my sister going to the outhouse. The thought of facing my family made the decision for me. I would leave tonight.

I waited for my sister to returned to her room before I changed my clothes. From beneath my bed I removed a canvas bag I had prepared. Ever since I returned from sea, I had packed everything that I learnt I needed. I confess I lingered a while before I could leave. But leave I eventually did. On my table I left my pay from seasons work. I kept the blood money as my father called it. Walking downstairs and exiting the house, I closed the door for the last time. I walked into the night and never came back home. I took up Oskar’s offer and we left the city at dawn. We were going to the highlands where there was coin to be made in the blood feuds and cattle raids.

What of Hass? Curious you ask of him. Unfortunately, the young man was found dead in an alleyway that morning. He had drowned himself on a bottle poteen. It is not uncommon for the young to drink recklessly. A shame really. He had gagged on the rough liquid and choked on his own vomit. It was an undignified death. His body was found with his pants down in a puddle of what was presumed to be his own urine.