“A blessing for our children, please Kongr. We have a long way to travel, but our feet are happy for the journey."

"Of course. I will gladly...Daughter, there you are."

"Father." Lyssia bent her head to him and then again to the man thin, brightly clothed standing before him. "Karlsman. You and your family are set on a journey?"

The man smiled at the acknowledgment. "Drottine. Vas heill et adhuil."

Lyssia nodded again as he bobbed before her, bowing once, twice, up and down. His every movement had a bounce to it. She did not know the purpose of this man’s journey, but it was clearly a joyful one.

"No, Drottine, not my family. My family is large, but not so large as this. This is the pilgrimage my village makes every year so that our young animals celebrating their first year of life may drink from the water that flows at the foot of the mountain Vatn."

Mountain lake. How...appropriate.

"You do this every year?"

"Every year we have births enough to celebrate, and we have not gone a year without since the first pilgrimage of blessing. Do you not believe in the good fortune of a Yute blessing, my lady?"

Lyssia forced her gaze to remain fixed on the stranger. What was she to say? She would not look to her father or Bjarke like a child who needed an answer provided for her, and she would not look back at the Jarlsons gathered behind her, though the need to see how they were reacting to this turn of events was like an itch at the base of her spine that she couldn't reach.

"Yes, of course. I just wasn’t expecting...The hunt. Will it be safe for pilgrims to be sharing the forest paths?"

"We do not have much farther to go,” her father answered. “The herd has been detained a mile from the path. These pilgrims are journeying to the mountains. They will not be anywhere near when the hunt begins."

"And we will set watchmen to ensure similar parties entering the forest are not taken by surprise,” Bjarke said, sidling forward. “My Kongr, if you will allow me to ride ahead, I will take care of appointing men to stand watch."

"Do as you see fit, Skald. Azerian, Roakev, go with him. See it done."

The leader of the villagers watched their horses canter off into the woods with an appreciative eye.

"I hope we are not scaring away your aim."

"Elken are not easily spooked."

"Elken? Oh, what I would give to see one of those fair beasts up close."

Elken? Lyssia thought. This far from the mountain paths? Sickness that ate trees and the Elken herd moved.

What did it mean?

"Was it a blessing for your children you asked for?"

"Yes. My son." The Karlsman grabbed hold of a boy's arm and dragged him forward.

"And mine as well," another man said, stepping forward with a young boy and a calf in two.

"And for my daughter, Kongr. Please."

"Dro-ine…" a soft voice called up to Lyssia.

Lyssia looked down into the sweet gaze of a girl whose head did not even reach Lyssia's stirrups. She was holding a babe swaddled in an old shirt in her arms. "B-essing for my baby sis-ser?"

Lyssia gestured for her to raise the babe higher so she could take the girl's tiny fist in her hand. When she had finished speaking, another child was lifted to her. She spoke practiced phrases that came easily to her, well wishes for the children's health and happiness.

And that's all it was. A wish. A chance to connect with her people and see the smiles on the children’s faces as Lyssia reached out to them.

She hated how her tone sounded as she spoke the same phrases over and over. She tried to make up the difference with a wider smile, but she did wish that she could dismount and move among these people, receiving blessings as she handed them out.

She was considering doing just that when three people with a child - a woman and two men pushed to the front of the crowd. Paying no mind to the line that had formed before her, the woman addressed Lyssia. Her wispy voice did not match her haughty demeanor, and Lyssia was caught off momentarily by the question she posed.

"Are you the daughter of Erina the kind, the girl who settled the dispute between Karlsmen Ardbon and Liefer so that no blood was spilled?"

Erina the kind…Seaka! The Lach’s name echoed like a growl in her thoughts.

"I am Lyssia Erinasdaughter."

Lyssia did not speak of the incident at the Mart the woman alluded to, but she would not be swayed off her course.

"You are the young Drottine they are calling wise. You brokered peace between the farmer and the blacksmith."

Lyssia gritted her teeth against the inevitable feeling of walking into a trap. "Yes. I settled their dispute. I reasoned with them."

The woman relaxed, taking a step back and dropping into a deep curtsy. "I beg of you, Drottine. Please speak to my husband and our neighbor before this goes any further."

"You wish me to…?"

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"Speak reason. Be our judge."

She was being petitioned before her father and the entire hunting party. She was being called to decide the fate of these unknown people plagued with some unknown problem.

Her eyes darted past the crowd to the trees. She sensed the need for this conversation to be conducted in private, but there was little chance she would be able to leave with them. And if they did not balk at the watching crowd, why should she.

"What has happened?" she asked.

"Drottine, my wife and I have done no wrong."

“What have you done?”

"Only tried to reclaim what belongs to us. I have had part of my land taken from me. My neighbor took it upon himself to till his field early, and he took over two lengths of my field as his own."

"Two lengths...That is worth a lot?"

"It is worth a lot of time and resources to prepare," the second man answered. "That is worth something."

"The land is mine!"

"But it had been tiled by my hand. And what of the early wheat I have already sown in that part of the field? That belongs to me."

"You could not simply give back to your neighbor what is his? Or bequeath him two lengths of your land for the growing season?"

"I do not work for free."

"And you would not share resources? Give him a portion of your seeds or crops in payment for his work on your field?" she asked the first man.

"Why would I pay someone to prepare my fields when I have children enough to help me?"

"And you would not want to wait a year to reclaim your fields even if you were compensated for them?"

His wife provided a quick answer for him. "He cannot provide compensation enough to make sure our family is fed and our tithe paid."

Lyssia fought the urge to hide her face behind her arm. Every easy solution had been met with disdain. Why? Because they had already fought over them and declared no winner.

What did these people expect from her? They only wanted someone to make the hard decision for them.

"How many mouths do you have to feed?"

"Nine, my lady," the woman replied and glanced sidelong at her opponent so that Lyssia knew what to expect from his answer.

"Six, my lady," he said, bending his head in anticipation of a reprimand. He thought his cause lost, but Lyssia did not plan to force anyone into a losing position.

“If you are seeking my opinion, it would seem that both of you have a stake in the land.”

“Yes, but what should be done about it?” the woman asked. The same question was mirrored in the eyes of everyone gathered to listen.

“Here is what I would say. You should…” Lyssia took a deep breath - in-out-in. “You will share it. Two-thirds will remain in your family possession, but you shall loan one-third of the land from the section that has been sown to the man who tilled it. Next year, the boundaries of your fields shall revert to where they once were, and you shall share the burden of making sure they are properly marked and protected.”

When Lyssia had brokered peace between the farmer and the blacksmith, they had put up more of a fight before accepting her decision. There were no arguments provided this time. Only a single question spoken in a toneless voice from the man that stood alone.

“And if that is not enough for either of us?”

“Then you will do as you must to provide for your neighbor. If no help can be found among friends, you will go to the man to whom you pay your tithe, or you will journey to my father’s stead. Food, clothing, shelter - whatever you need. Your families will be provided for. All you have to do is make your needs known.”

The man’s eyes shone with tears as he bowed his head before her. “Thank you, Drottine. Thank you.”

“Who owns your fealty?” Lyssia’s father asked.

“Jarl Angar, my lord.”

“Angar! These are your men?”

Jarl Angar rode forward. He had chosen to wear his yellow cloak again. It was a poor choice for a hunt, but it ensured that he stood out in a crowd.

“I do not recognize them. But if they say they are, they must be.”

“Have you heard their worries?”

“Yes, and I am impressed with the Drottine’s solution. I will back it with my own promise.” He turned from Lyssia and her father and held out his hand toward her supplicants. “I will cut your tithe in half this year. And if that is not enough, of course, you must come to me. Your families will not go hungry.”

“Thank you, my Lord Angar.”

“Yes, thank you, my lord.”

“I have no token to give you, but you can rest assured that my word is good.”

Lyssia frowned. That did not ring true. “Have you any coin, Jarl Angar?”

“Coin, Drottine? No. I had no need to pack any.” He chuckled at the thought, but no one joined him.

“I have a thought…”

She reached into her saddlebag, searching blindly for the pouch of coins she had taken to the Mart. This is the last time I’m doing this, else my bag will need repairing, she thought, as she plucked several long strings from the frayed corner.

“I have little need of coin. Let these be put to good use. If you find yourselves in need, you may spend them or use them or as tokens of my esteem. Will you recognize them, Angar?”

She held four coins threaded through with string up for his inspection. He nodded in assent, watching carefully as she handed two coins each to the men standing before her.

“My lady, you are too generous.”

“And wise.”

“Yes, and wise.”

“Truly, she is,” Jarl Angar murmured, making Lyssia blush. His fingers tangled up in his beard as he stared at her and scratched at his chin. “You must be proud of her, Dizean.”

Her father’s single nod was not enough to quiet the whispers that had risen among the crowd. Lyssia heard her name spoken by dozens of voices, and for some reason unknown to her reasoning mind, the sound filled her heart with fear.

“We must be off now,” Lyssia’s father said, preparing to ride on. The crowd parted before him and closed around him again like slow-moving honey. “Travel with our blessing for safety and a swift return to your homes.”

Lyssia watched him leave, unsure of her position.

“Lyssia, join me!”

“Yes, father! Goodbye. Good day. Vas daginnen.” She waved to the children at her feet and had Arvid walk forward slowly, careful to make sure he didn’t step on any little toes.

Her father stopped once they were far enough away from the crowd and motioned for her to join him. “You will participate in the hunt today, Lyssia.”

“I...yes, father.”

“Head east from here. You will find the herd. Tell the outriders to expect our arrival soon and take your position. We will get this hunt over with quickly and return to see our other work completed.”

“Yes, father. I will find them.”

He glanced back over his shoulder to the rest of the party, each man riding forward with curious eyes and eager smiles focused squarely on her.

"Go! Now!"

Lyssia did not question the order. Without a second thought, she wheeled Arvid about and took off into the solitude of the trees, her favorite companions.

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