The walk home didn’t take long. It was an hour’s walk inland from where they were fishing. They climbed up into the copse of trees, startling a doe who had wandered close to the shore to graze. The sudden burst of movement and the cracking of twigs and rattling of the underbrush gave the boys a startle.

Through the trees, they eventually found their way to the wide, well-worn path following along the fence line of a paddock. There were white sheep scattered throughout. The occasional black face lifting and sniffing the air before returning to their grazing. Sheep were the predominate livestock raised in the area where the boys lived. Their village had a population near a hundred and twenty people, and while most lived in the village proper, several lived on the produce and sheep farms scattered about the island.

A large shaggy white and grey dog popped out from among the sheep, bounding over to the fence line, tail wagging and barking at the boys. It was not a bark of aggression, but a bark for their attention. “Belkie! Heya, boy!” said Orn with enthusiasm.

“Come on, Orn. We can’t stop and play with him. We need to get these home.” Erik pointed over his shoulder with his thumb.

He looked at his older brother with a pleading expression. “But look at him! He must be so bored, watching fluffy clouds poop and munch grass all day.”

“Come back and see him later.”

Orn’s face changed from pleading to petulant as he responded to his brother’s logic. “Sure, sure. As if Mother will let that happen. She’ll fill the rest of our day with tasks and chores.”

Erik laughed a little as he thought about Orn’s lament. He tilted his head slightly to the side and looked back over his shoulder. “Actually, you have a point there. Even so, we do have to get home.”

With a slight pang of regret, Orn looked back over his shoulder at Belkie as he sat there, the wagging of his tail coming to a stop. “Sorry boy. Maybe tomorrow.”

There were other crops and home vegetable patches, but wool and sheepskins were the primary industry. Because the island’s soil was very nutrient rich, the grass the sheep fed on ensured they produced skins and wool of excellent quality. This made them a valuable commodity within the Grand Duchy of Holvela, the Halder nation that their island was part of. The clothing and boots made from Sofjorland sheep skins and fibres were invaluable further north, where winters were longer and much colder.

The brothers followed the path along the fence line and passed by a farmhouse. They saw Mr Hagen, a man in his forties with greying brown hair and beard, working on his fence. “Quite the haul you lads have caught. No doubt Venna will be pleased. One fish for each Avdlak and Sogard.” He chuckled as he pointed to the larger fish. “That one is clearly Vylder’s.”

The boys beamed in response. Orn pointed over his shoulder to the rod holding the fish. “Most likely Mother will make fish stew, so there’ll be plenty if you want any.”

“No, I couldn’t eat another woman’s food, my boy. My wife will wear my guts for garters.” Then he laughed some more.

They waved to him and continued home. Once they were out of earshot, he turned to his brother. “Erik, is his wife really that mean?”

“No, I’m sure he was being polite and making a joke. His wife is very nice…well, from what I’ve seen.”

Mr Hagen watched after them for a short time, a wistful smile lighting his face as he thought of his own youth long since passed. He shook off his nostalgia before chuckling and returning to his work.

The fence line fell away, and more cottages lined the main path, opening to the well and community area near the village centre. The centrepiece was a carved pole honouring the gods, the village place of worship, celebration, and ceremony. Further on, they came to their home. A simple structure, much like the rest of the village, made of a single structure with a sloped thatch roof, with two chimneys. Smoke floated from the chimney toward the rear of the house, announcing their mother was cooking. The two boys walked around the side toward the back of the house, where their mother was preparing lunch.

Venna was a striking woman. Her face was flawless, except for the gap in her left brow, a reminder of her shield maiden past. The scar resulted from a training partner striking her with a shield edge. Her lean and muscular physique had softened over the years. Despite this, her strength and combat prowess hadn’t diminished. No one would suspect this woman to be a warrior of note, wearing a pale blue homespun dress with a white kitchen apron. Her blonde was hair tied back in a single braid, her slate-coloured eyes added twin splashes of contrast to a pale face with cheeks quick to blush.

She was finishing making vegetable soup over the cooking stove, getting ready to take it to the table for serving. “Mother,” said Erik, “look what me and Orn brought home.”

Venna hid her smile, and without looking back, said “Orn and I.” She waited a second before chiding, “Don’t roll your eyes at me, Erik”.

Erik looked at Orn with an incredulous expression on his face that said without words, ‘How does she always know?’, to which Orn responded with an equally puzzled look as he shrugged his shoulders.

Venna turned, carrying the large pot full of soup, moved to the table. She placed the pot down before regarding her boys and inspecting their morning’s work. “Lovely. And I see you remembered to clean them this time. All right, place them over there on the bench.”

Watching as her sons walked to the bench, they were about to dump everything on top before she sighed in exasperation. “No! Take them off of the stick first, then toss the stick in the fire.”

“Don’t roll your eyes, Mother,” Erik said sarcastically as Orn buried his face in his shoulder to stifle his laugh. This comment earned him a slap to the back of his head from Venna, who, although she delivered it in admonishment, couldn’t hold back her own chuckle as she shook her head.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Once you’ve taken care of that, Orn, can you set the table and then head out to the forge to tell your father that lunch is ready? Erik, you can take that large fish to the Sogard’s place.”

Orn groaned and complained, “But mother, we worked hard this morning catching dinner. Can’t we go...”

Venna cut him off with, “And while I appreciate your efforts, now you must appreciate mine. Unless you want to eat hot soup with your hands, get the bowls, spoons, breadboard, and knife onto the table, and go get your father.”

Orn’s shoulders sunk in defeat, and his face wore a comical expression of fake despair. This made Venna’s eyes twinkle with amusement as she grabbed Orn’s cheeks, leaned forward, and kissed his forehead. She then turned him by the shoulders towards the dish cabinet and tapped his backside as he trudged disconsolately towards it.

Erik was blushing furiously and had grown nervous, almost dropping the fish as he fumbled while picking it up. Venna, noticing her older son’s struggle, smiled, approaching behind and slightly to his side. She gently grasped his shoulders and said to him, “Erik, relax. Take some deep breaths.” Erik did as she told him. “Better?” she asked.

Erik nodded as a sickly expression clouded his face. Venna looked at her son. “I know you like Selti, but there’s no need to worry. All you need to be is you, because if you try to be something else, then you’ll never really know if Selti likes you or this other thing. Besides, chances are she isn’t even home. Now, pick it up, off you go”.

Venna smiled and ruffled Erik’s hair as he picked up the fish and made his way out of the kitchen, along the side of their home, and across the path diagonally towards the Sogard’s cottage.

Orn had set the table and went out the back to their father’s forge. As he approached, he could see the smoke from the centre of the roof, where it was open to allow the smoke to escape. The structure was an open-sided wooden roof on posts. Within at the centre was a large furnace, with bellows for increasing the fire’s intensity enough to melt metal. Next to the furnace were three different sized anvils. Surrounding the centre were neat shelves and racks containing various tools, moulds and other metal working implements. From the moment he stepped out of the cottage, he could hear the ringing of a hammer on steel.

He saw a flash of movement near the front of the house as he looked around, and considered investigating it. However, he dismissed it as most likely Erik rehearsing for what he would say to Selti. Orn chuckled to himself at that thought and continued on to the forge.

He entered the side of the structure, where within was a sight that would cause a stranger to the village quite the shock. Vylder was a giant man with a barrel chest and thick, tree trunk-like legs. He was a head taller than most other Haldermen, who were on average, a rather tall people to begin with. He had blue eyes with long black hair that was threaded with grey, braided at the temples and small braids in his greying beard as well.

As Orn entered, Vylder picked up what he was hammering with some tongs and dunked it into the cooling tub. The piece made a loud hissing noise as it hit the water, where it started bubbling as steam billowed up from it. The forge was hot inside, and Orn was already beginning to perspire on his forehead, chest, and back. His father looked up and saw Orn, causing a broad smile to crease his face. He went back to finishing what he was doing, and looked back to Orn as he said, “Well, son, how was it?”

Orn looked confused for a moment and then realised his father meant fishing. He replied, “Oh, good actually. We caught three each. Erik caught one that was almost double the size of the rest.”

“Huh,” said Vylder with raised eyebrows and an impressed look on his face.

Orn said with a sly grin, “He took that one to Selti’s home for a wedding present.”

Vylder’s laugh filled the forge, a booming laugh as big as the man himself. “Aw son, you tease now but, your day will come.”

“No way. That will never happen.” Orn retorted just a little too quickly and a little too forcefully. “Oh, right, Mother told me to get you for lunch.”

“That time already? Ok, let me finish up quickly and I’ll be right in.” Orn smiled and headed back to the cottage.

On the other side of the main path, Erik approached the Sogard cottage and called out with a slight croak in his voice, “Hello?” to which a woman’s voice responded, “Just a moment.”

Erik waited just outside the front door, holding the fish and deliberately breathing slowly, as his mother had told him. After about a minute or two had passed, a woman appeared.

Mrs Brenda Sogard had on a plain blue cotton dress with a half apron tied at her waist. Although not slim, she was still an attractive woman. She kept her wavey auburn hair tied back in a simple ponytail. A light dusting of freckles covered her fair skin, and she had hazel-green eyes under thin, arched brows, with high cheekbones in an apple-shaped face.

“What have we here?” she said as she wiped her hands on her apron while regarding the nervous boy standing before her. Selti, a slender girl of fifteen, stepped out from behind her.

The girl’s resemblance to her mother was obvious. However, whereas Mrs Sogard was curvy and full-figured, Selti was a slender, waif-like creature. She had large green eyes and had her long auburn hair arranged in thick, twin shoulder length braids that ran down behind her ears.

“M-Mrs Sogard, hello. Me an…er Orn and I went fishing this morning, and I thought you might…” Erik’s voice trailed off as he noticed Selti smiling at him.

Brenda, pursing her lips to control her smirk, demanded, “Well, what is it, child? Out with it!”

Erik found himself struck dumb. He had no clue what to say or do. Instead, he thrust the fish forward with a pleading expression. Brenda regarded him, and whilst secretly impressed by the fish and by the gesture, merely stated, “Not bad. Will you bring it to the kitchen for me, please?”

Inclining her head slightly, she turned and led the way back inside her cottage. Once Erik was behind her, Brenda dropped the façade and grinned broadly. She knew the boy liked her Selti. While she knew him as a genuinely decent young man, and secretly hoped for a union between the two families, she needed to maintain appearances. After all, Sogard ladies are not loose women. The lad would have to work for it.

She lived alone with Selti. Her husband had taken ill and never recovered, succumbing late in the last year. Selti’s two older brothers, Sorgi and Svein, were both at sea, giving their required service to the crown. Venna and Brenda had grown close since her husband died, and Venna often helped her by going to her, or sending Vylder and the boys over to assist her as needed. Sorgi, already twenty-one years old, would be returning home after the annual Halder Royal Conference in Fludavera.

Behind Brenda, Selti walked alongside Erik, deliberately bumping shoulders gently and staring at him while secretly revelling in his discomfort. She was nervous around him too, only she was better at hiding it. Not to mention teasing him made her feelings easier to contain, while getting revenge for all the times he had played pranks on her. Her fair, freckled cheeks turned rosy as she imagined what his lips might feel like against hers, but quickly dismissed from her mind as her cheeks threatened to become more inflamed.

In the kitchen, Brenda gestured for him to place the fish on the bench. He did that and then dipped his hands in the water bucket to wash them. She saw him and grabbed a bar of soap from the windowsill and passed it to him. “This should help with the smell”.

“Thank you, Ma’am.” Erik finished washing his hands and looked around for a cloth to dry them. Selti approaching him from behind, held out a towel for him.

She poked him in the back, and he turned to face her. She didn’t make eye contact. Instead, she focused on drying his hands. Her flowery scent filled Erik’s nose, making his heart beat faster and making him feel lightheaded.

“There, all done,” said Selti softly.

Erik, finally finding his voice, said, “Thanks. I-I er, I’d better get going. My mother is expecting me for lunch.”

“All right, Erik. Give my love to your family.”