The Ice Dragon King & The Slave-Queen

Chapter 13 - Sparring With Trouble

King Einar walked toward the small village on the flatlands not far from his castle. The slight downhill allowed him to see the full view of the small village and the things that were going on in its center. Typical to the Varangian setup, the small village comprises small houses fit for families of up to eight people. Most Varangians only have four children maximum, because Varangian women have the power to say yes or no to the number of children and they usually stop at four. Sometimes they have their elderly parents or any single family member living with them too.

These small houses surround the main field in the middle of the flatland — a large field that is divided into four sections. The first section was for the livestock where the villagers reared cows, sheep, chickens, ducks, rabbits, and more. The second section was for produce, including fruits and vegetables. The third section was where the womenfolk would gather together daily and where they would cook together in huge batches so that they could share the food amongst the families. The final section was the training grounds where the men would train in the morning or the evening, but most of the time they just trained whenever they preferred. His subjects worked harmoniously together for generations. They did not require any strict guidelines on this matter, only continuing the tradition and cycle of what their parents had done and their parents before that.

Right at that moment, as King Einar walked and enjoyed the view of the flatlands, his eyes were trained on one particular individual; a young woman with neatly braided long red hair behind her back, flipping and whipping in the air as she turned and dived from her opponent with a large sword slashing at her. She was wearing trousers made fit for females, slightly looser than men’s trousers with a loose top that was cinched at the waist with a belt. She looked glorious as the sun shone on her hair, deep in concentration as she trained, like a warrior princess in history books.

King Einar slowed down his pace as he arrived at the livestock area. He leaned his shoulder on one of the planked fences, watching the training from afar. A young brown foal came up to him, nudging her nose at his elbow from behind the fence, asking for food. He gave her a fresh apple that was placed in a basin nearby mindlessly, as his mind was occupied with the young woman dodging blow after blow that was coming at her on the training field.

“Brava!” King Einar heard his general and first commander, Stig, clapping his hand from the opposite side of the training grounds, cheering his Queen as she danced away from the large sword gracefully. She didn’t even get a second of rest or pause from her opponent, as both of them were deep in concentration.

“Now attack!” Stig shouted, and King Einar noticed his wife immediately change the way she stood in front of her opponent, charging at the man from an angle that he did not expect, not giving him any time to react or even think. She managed to jab him on his side with her fist before twisting around and quickly grabbing the short knife that was sticking out from the ground. She swiveled the knife in her hand and tried to jab it into the makeshift armor on her opponent’s body but he was too fast, jumping out of her reach, almost making her stumble.

King Einar could see how his wife’s body became more tense, like a coiled spring, her eyes sharp, searching for an opening, maybe a delicate part of the body in her opponent, before she would attack.

King Einar pushed himself away from the fence so that he could move closer, not wanting to take any attention away from the two individuals sparring on the training ground but wanting to see his queen clearly. He walked slowly, in between the stalls of the livestock, slightly hidden from view. Before he got to where his men were standing, all of them transfixed with the way the two contenders were sparring on the field, he squatted down to get a better view.

Taryn was watching the man in front of her intently. Sweat was dripping from her forehead and temples, marking trails on her face, a few drops wetting her long eyelashes as she looked for an opening on her opponent. She was planning to use the element of surprise on him, just like how she punched him in the side earlier, but she also knew that she couldn’t use the same trick anymore. She must think quickly and try to defeat him since she was starting to feel tired.

The man in front of Taryn was older and more experienced than the few young men she had been paired with as her training partners before. King Einar’s general and best friend, Stig Torstenson had been true to his promise and helped introduce Taryn to training. It didn’t take too long for Taryn and Stig to be able to convince the king to allow her to train. Once King Einar had agreed to let Taryn train like a warrior, they immediately took off to the training grounds with Taryn laughing giddily, her skirts flying behind her.

Stig had first paired her with young boys to train, trying to gauge her strength, technique, and abilities. Even though she was a petite girl, she was strong — mainly due to the heavy work she had done throughout the years as a slave — and was quick to beat her young opponents. Taryn was a quick learner too, one of the qualities that Stig was highly impressed with, and not long after, he began teaching Taryn the techniques that are usually taught to men who had been training for long months and even years.

Two days ago, Stig had paired her with the man that was currently standing in front of her right now, holding a long sword in his hand. Taryn was open for a new partner so she asked if anyone would train with her and the man volunteered. Even though their pairing began with the basic training technique, it quickly progressed into harmless sparring, and right at that moment, as she stood facing him, Taryn instinctively felt that the man was not taking the contest between them lightly. He had been swinging his long sword right and left as if he really wanted to take Taryn down. Taryn was a little surprised in the beginning as she dodged the man’s sword easily, thanks to her small lithe body and quick thinking. But now, she was not playing either.

“Quickly, Your Grace!” She heard Stig’s voice telling her to go in there, to make her “kill” before she lost the game.

Taryn took a deep breath. She didn’t want to lose to this man. Since she started training in the past couple of weeks, she had only seen this man twice, and on both occasions, he never acknowledged her the way that befits her station, even though he knew she was the queen. She had seen him walking around the training grounds, his head bowed, but on both occasions, she had caught him staring at Stig and the other few trainers from the corner of his eye, as if he was planning something and was up to no good. Taryn didn’t mind if he didn’t like her, understanding that everyone has the right to choose whom they want to like or not, but she was cautious of him from the very beginning, which is why she was prepared when he dived head-on right then just to surprise her.

In truth, Taryn only wanted to train. If she could learn her own strengths and gain knowledge from them, then that was a bonus. She just wanted to know the ways to protect herself and maybe even those she loved if there ever came a time when she needed to fight.

Taryn hopped once, twice, and then lunged for the man’s right side, aiming for the soft part under his arm. But the man was too quick. The man jumped to his left, out of Taryn’s reach, before he lowered himself to the ground, shot out his leg, and kicked Taryn from under her feet. Taryn lost her balance and fell hard to the ground. She felt the breath kick out of her lungs as she winced in pain. The man stood up and turned, aiming the pointy end of the sword close to Taryn’s throat.

A flurry of action and noises came about.

“Stop! Stop now!” Taryn heard Stig yell and jog loudly toward them both as the crowd grew louder.

A few seconds later, everything became silent. As Taryn lay on her back, looking at the tip of the blade that was inches away from her face and the blue sky behind her opponent, she could only hear the sound of blood rushing to her head. She thought it was odd that there was complete silence in the open field. When her opponent moved the sword and backed away from her, she turned her head to the side to see what was happening and saw her husband, the king, rushing toward her. She also saw some of his people were too confused to either run toward her to check on her injuries or to bow at him as he dashed past them.

The more Taryn focused on the people’s reactions, the more she found it funny and she couldn’t control the gurgle of laughter that escaped her lips.

“My lady!” King Einar was alarmed when he saw his wife’s body twitching on the ground. When he kneeled next to her, he found his wife red-faced, trying to control her mirth without much success.

“Are you hurt?” King Einar asked Taryn quietly, his eyes searching her face, her shoulders, and her body that was still lying on the ground.

“I am fine, my lord. Just the wind knocked out of my body,” Taryn giggled as she pushed herself up off the ground, King Einar assisting her. “And a little embarrassed,” she whispered as she stood in front of the king, dusting her behind.

King Einar let out a sigh of relief when he saw that she was actually all right. He pushed a stray hair from his wife’s face, concern marring his forehead as he looked down at her upturned face. He heard Stig reprimanding Taryn’s opponent loudly behind him, and when he turned to look at his general, he saw the giant man was clutching his fists as if ready to punch the smaller man.

“General, stand down. Everything is all right. The queen is fine,” King Einar quickly tried to diffuse the situation, tapping his general’s shoulder lightly as he looked at the man who was responsible for felling his wife.

Up close, the man was unfamiliar to King Einar, especially since he knew everybody in the little village located close to his castle. Even though King Einar’s kingdom and lands were vast in size, he tried to get to know his people, at least those he could meet every day and who lived closest to him. He didn’t think he had ever seen the man in front of him and Stig before.

The man was quite tall, only about two or three inches shorter than King Einar. He had curly golden hair dusted with dark brown that was covering his face at the moment. The man was bowing his head low and King Einar couldn’t see his face. King Einar wondered who the man’s parents were.

Varangians are usually identified by their parents and ancestral heritage. This is one of the reasons why most Varangians seek glory during their lives so that their bloodline will be easily distinguished and their legacy will live on for generations — for the benefit of their children and children’s children.

In King Einar’s kingdom, there were about twenty villages scattered all over his lands. The base or outline of the other villages is similar to the one he was standing in at the moment, comprising three tiers of people. They are the Karls, the Jarls, and the ruling monarch. The Karls are the working-class people in his kingdom. The most important Karls are his warriors, followed by the farmers, craftsmen, fishermen, merchants, and boat builders, who also fall under the same category. The Jarls are the chieftains of a particular territory. In his kingdom, the chieftains control the villages they live in, following the basic rules set by the ruling monarch, managing the livelihood of the middle-class people in those villages, and having to answer to the king about whatever is going on in their village. Then, of course, there’s the king, King Einar Asgerson, who rules the kingdom.

When King Einar’s great-grandfather first arrived in these lands, he abolished another tier of people from the kingdom, which were called the Thralls. Thralls are slaves and used to be one of the most important commodities traded by King Einar’s ancestors. But King Einar’s great-grandfather disliked the idea of having a slave and decided to eliminate the possibility of anyone having or being a slave. So in King Einar’s kingdom, everyone is a free man and woman.

“What is your name?” King Einar asked after Stig relaxed and King Einar held Taryn close next to him.

Taryn’s opponent kept quiet, the sword in his hand now snatched away by Stig. The man kept his head lowered, which made it harder for King Einar to see his face clearly.

“Your king demands an answer man!” Stig’s booming voice came out like a whip, shocking everyone within earshot, including Taryn, who jerked in surprise.

“My apologies, Your Grace, General. My name is Harald, Your Grace,” the man replied, his head still bowed.

“I have never seen you here before, Harald. You’re not from this village, are you?” King Einar asked bluntly.

The man paused for a while. Then, he shook his head. “No, I am not, Your Grace. I come from Breidrheim, next to the valley bordering Taserhaig Lake, south of this kingdom,” Harald replied.

“What is your father’s name?” King Einar asked, curious, still trying to see the man’s face.

Once again, the man didn’t answer the king’s question immediately. King Einar did not like this, disturbed by his slow responses. Earlier, he thought the man was quick with his sword and his footwork, but he was fairly certain that a person who was as quick in his movements on the field of battle would be just as quick in his mind.

“Speak!” Stig’s booming voice once again surprised everyone there. He was clearly as annoyed as the king, if not more.

“I do not know who my father was, Your Grace. I am a bastard son,” Harald answered, his voice low, not wanting anybody to listen in.

“Who is your mother then? You must be named after your mother if you did not know who your father was,” King Einar continued, his patience wearing thin.

“Helga,” he answered quickly.

“So, you are Harald Helgason from Breidrheim?” King Einar asked the man once again, as confirmation.

“Yes, Your Grace,” he bowed, lower still.

“You have any families here?”

“No, Your Grace,” Harald answered quickly again.

“Then what are your living arrangements in this village if you had no family members? Not to mention that you came all the way from the South,” King Einar tried to understand but couldn’t find the logic behind the man’s explanation.

It was not uncommon for his people to visit family members that lived in another village during special times of the year, like the seasonal feasts during Winter Nights and Jul. Sometimes they would gather with their extended families at the harvest festivals like Mabon or during religious rituals in remembrance of their dead ancestors. Then there are, of course, the more personal reasons, like a wedding celebration or a successful raiding voyage, but they don’t usually travel to a different village — especially from somewhere hundreds of miles away for no particular reason. The weather in King Einar’s kingdom is not particularly best for long journeys, especially when it is not during the summer. And right now, winter was right around the corner.

Since the man didn’t answer as quickly as he did before, King Einar began to lose interest. He just sighed and turned to his side to look at his wife and his general, who was standing next to her. He communicated something to Stig with a look that only a best friend would understand.

“You do not have to answer me. I do not want to know anymore. You may go,” King Einar said, clearly exasperated by the man.

The man bowed his head lower and turned, not even looking at King Einar or his wife and general. He jogged slowly to the edge of the training field, his hair flying about him, his back swallowed by the crowd of people walking and crossing the field. As King Einar watched the man jog away, he tried hard to recall the man, just in case if he had met the man before, but to no avail.

Even though things had started to quiet down the past couple of weeks after the burning of his warship and the information shared by the now-dead prisoner, he was still on full alert and always making sure they would be prepared for any surprises from enemies.

King Einar indicated to Stig to wrap everything up with his eyes before turning to look at his wife.

“Shall we return to the castle, my lady? I think you have had more than enough excitement for today,” King Einar chuckled, his eyes twinkling as he looked at his wife tenderly.

Taryn smiled at his words and nodded in agreement. She still felt slightly sore in her behind where she fell flat on the ground. She knew that this was how it was going to be when a person is training, but she was also very glad to see her husband during one of her embarrassing moments.

As they walked slowly out of the field, hand in hand, Stig walked up next to the king to whisper something to him. Yet, like always, Stig couldn’t whisper even if his life depended on it and so Taryn was able to hear more than a whispered Norse word or two about the man who knocked her down earlier. Taryn was getting better with the Norse language and she thought she could understand some of what her husband and his general were talking about.

“Would you like me to check on that man?” Stig asked the king.

“Yes, I do not like the way that he is. It felt like he had something hidden up his sleeves,” King Einar replied.

“I feel the same way too, Your Grace. You know I have a third cousin in Breidrheim who is a blacksmith. I can ask him to find out about that man, Harald, son of Helga, and see if we know anything about him,” Stig suggested.

“Yes, you do that. And Stig?” King Einar called out to Stig one last time.

“Yes, Your Grace?” Stig answered, turning to look at the king.

“Don’t ever let anybody touch or hurt my wife in any way. Ever,” King Einar said in a low voice, but there was danger lurking in his undertone, warning anybody who dared to touch his queen.

“Understood, Your Grace,” was Stig’s reply as he bowed his head to King Einar and Taryn before he turned around to get back to the training grounds — as well as to convey King Einar’s message to his men in the field.

King Einar turned back to look at his wife, who was now smiling sweetly at him. He pulled her close to his side, his nose on top of her head, inhaling the smell of wild lilies that had become his favorite scent before they both walked slowly to the castle side by side, enjoying the crisp early winter air.