Runebinder

One: Crimson Falling-3

“Where did it go, Father?” Hakon asked in astonishment.

“I don't know and I don't care. Gods be praised that it is gone.” But it wasn't gone. No, the noise in the void of the forest was very much present. It hid quietly in the shadows and watched from afar, unable to cross the line between the forest and the clearing. It knew it could not cross, it knew that it was not permitted, not in daylight. And so, the creature hid amongst the shadows and the darkness, watching, observing the High-Stones as they fearfully marched back to their home. The feast it had made of the hound had barely silenced its hunger. It required more sustenance if it was to continue its path. And so, the creature that skulked in shadow waited patiently and began plotting its scheme. The departure of Sol would lower the barrier once placed by the ancient ones and the rise of Máni would set the monster free.

“Hakon!” Eirik called to the boy that lingered still too close to the tree line for his comfort. “Get you inside. We need to have a look at Knut's wound.” The small boy grudgingly turned his back on the wood and rushed to help his father carry Knut to their household. As they approached their mother had spotted them from the entryway of the hovel. When they came closer her maternal instincts kicked in and she knew something was amiss. Svanhild dropped a rag from her hands and ran hurriedly to their aid.

“What happened to Knut?” She looked at his leg and then wiped the beads of sweat streaming down from his brow. “Is it broken?” Knut shook his head.

“I don't think so, Mother.” Eirik pressed him onward for fear that the noise would return.

“Best to get him inside and have a look. Hakon, take Tunn with you and fetch Nori. He should be down at the river bend with his nets. Tell him nothing of what you saw. Tell him I sent you and that he needs to get his axe and meet me here. Be quick about it!” Svanhild thought that Knut's injury was merely a hunting accident but now she could see the fear in their eyes all too clearly. Something was terribly wrong indeed.

“What is the matter, my husband?” Svanhild asked, clutching her lover's tunic. Eirik turned his head and gazed back into the dark and foreboding woods. He knew the beast was still there lurking about. He could still feel it in his bones, he could feel it on the nape of his neck. He knew it was still watching with keen eyes from afar, but something kept the beast from running them down. What was it? He returned his eyes to his spouse and looked nervously at the ground.

“We should discuss it inside. I'll not utter a word of it here. Not where the others can hear it.” The trio made their way inside the humble cottage to seek solace and refuge while Hakon called upon Tunn to follow him.

“Tunn! Come here, boy.” The dog whimpered at first, unsure of what direction Hakon would take. The boy took a step towards the river and called him once more. “Tunn! Come! We're going to the river. Come, boy!” Tunn stepped forward cautiously and his tail slowly made its way out from between his wet furry legs. Hakon's thin frame took off at a sprint and Tunn barked frantically at him before catching up. Running between several cottages with pluming smoke stacks, Hakon quickly reached the fishing huts at the edge of the river. A place where nets were stored, strung out and repaired, and where the smoke houses stood to dry heaps of freshwater fish before the harsh winter months.

“Hello, Hakon!” a small voice called out. It was a pale skinned boy, fair of hair and blue of eye. Though a small child would bring cheer and glee to most, Hakon was not fond of this troublesome lot.

“Hello, Sven. Have you seen your father anywhere?”

“Why?” the boy asked suspiciously. “What business do you have with him?”

“Father asked me to fetch him.” Sven's eyebrows raised with distrust.

“For what?” The boy was barely seven and already he was suspicious of the intentions of others. He would make a fine advisor to a Jarl or better yet, supplant the Jarl himself one day. Hakon had known Sven since he was a baby and never really liked him then either.

“That's between them,” Hakon replied confidently. Young Sven stood and blinked his eyes tightly several times. He drew a small iron knife with a worn wooden handle from his belt and turned, pointing outward in the distance.

“He is out there fishing. I suppose he's in the middle of it. Good luck pulling him away. Father does not like to be disturbed when he is working the river. It makes him angry.” Hakon left Sven abruptly without even a nod.

“Thank you, Sven!” he yelled but Sven was displeased with Hakon's discourteous departure.

“Dunga…” the young boy mumbled under his breath as the young High-Stone sprinted away. Hakon tried to keep to the wooden planks laid out in the tall snow-covered grass but the path slowed him down. He cut straight through the frozen reeds until reaching Nori and several other fishermen who were waist deep with nets in the frigid waters. “Nori!” the boy shouted but the men could not hear him over the rushing waters. “Nori!” he yelled louder. The man in the distance heard a faint sound and turned his head back twice before he noticed the small boy at the edge of the river.

“Hakon?” he asked, turning. The boy waved his arms frantically gesturing Nori to come out of the water. Nori quickly realized that something was wrong and though he did not want to drop his end of the net he left the river just the same and slowly slogged his way out. Reaching the shore, he grabbed several wool cloths that had been set out for the men fishing that day and quickly wrapped them around his wet frigid body.

“Young…High-Stone. What is it…boy?” Nori asked, shivering and short of breath.

“It's Father. He's asking for you.” Nori looked in the distance towards the High-Stone cottage. He gripped his beard tightly and strained out the water as one would a wet cloth. His brow became heavy and he looked sternly at the child.

“What is it he wants? I won't be but a moment longer here. The waters too cold you know.” Hakon's eyes were wide with fright and now Nori appeared anxious. “What's the matter boy? What are you scared of?” Hakon looked away from Nori's heavy gaze.

“He said to get your axe and meet him straight away.” Nori's face became hard, the chill of his body disappeared being replaced by resolve and without delay he ran loudly ahead along the planks. The other fisherman looked on with curiosity but continued to hold their ends of the net while Hakon gave chase. Nori cleared the reeds and picked up the pace on the dirt with his wet long brown hair floating behind him. He reached his cottage and pulled his axe from the tree stump where it had rested and rushed just two hovels over to the High-Stone dwelling. With axe firmly in hand, Nori burst inside.

“Eirik!” Knut lay prostrate out on a table, his injured leg bleeding heavily into the grains of the timber. The occupants were startled and Nori quickly realized there was no impending danger.

“Nori, it's good you've come,” replied Eirik. Hakon entered just behind and gently pushed Nori inside. “Hakon, get the door closed. Be quick about it.” The boy did as his father told him and quickly secured the door, giving it a tug afterwards to ensure it was indeed closed.

“What happened to him?” Nori walked over to Knut and look him up and down. “Is it bad?” Knut shook his head.

“No, it's…”

“Nori, you're all wet.” Svanhild interrupted her injured son. “You will catch a chill.” Svanhild quickly grabbed some spare clothing and a few woolen linens from a woven basket on the floor and handed them to Nori to dry off with. “Here, take these and change your clothes. Can't have you freezing to death.” Nori happily accepted the gesture.

“Much appreciated.” Nori first dried his hair and beard and then turned his back to Svanhild to change his clothing. Removing his tunic, Hakon spotted a large tattoo on Nori's back, Yggdrasil, the world tree. The ink had faded with time but Nori was proud of the heritage carved into his flesh. Svanhild averted her eyes as Nori stood completely n***d and finished drying himself off before throwing on the dry tunic. He turned back around securing his leather belt to his waist and gestured to the older brother. “Knut, what is it?”

“It's just a sprain and a small cut,” Svanhild interjected. “He will be fine. My husband on the other hand has lost his wits. You should see to his mind. It sounds as if he has been into the mead stores again.” Nori was confused. He leaned his axe gently against planks of the wall and crossed his large forearms. His brow hung heavy and worrisome over his dark brown eyes. Eirik was not one to lose his wits, quite the opposite in fact. It was for this reason that Nori now felt a sudden twinge of fear enter his blood.

“Well? Is someone going to tell me what in the gods' names is going on here? Or shall we play at riddles like Loki amongst his kin?” Svanhild shot a stern look towards Eirik and waved her hand in his direction.

“Well? Go on, Eirik, tell him what you saw. No sense in hiding it now.” Eirik was hesitant to impart to his longtime friend what he had seen in the woods but Nori was becoming impatient.

“Come, brother, you can tell me. What was it? You can speak plainly, friend. What could you possibly have to say that would turn me away?” Eirik rolled his eyes and took a deep breath before staring calmly at Nori.

“One of my dogs was killed in the wood.” Nori grinned and c****d his head to one side.

“Is that all? We've all lost hunting dogs, brother. What was it? A wolf or a bear? Did he fall down a ravine?” Eirik looked down at the plank covered floor and shook his head.

“Neither,” he replied fiercely. “Something ate Hund's insides. His stomach, heart, lungs, even his blood, all gone. I've never seen anything like it my whole life.” Nori shook his head.

“Well, that's impossible. What kind of a creature could do such a thing? Did they not feast on the Hund's flesh as well?” Knut slammed his fist in anger against the table.

“It was the wind, dammit! That damned wind!” Knut blurted out as he sat himself up. Nori threw his head back and burst into laughter. “Shut up!” Knut snapped. “It was the wind. I swear it, Nori. I would never lie to you.” Nori ceased his laughter and clenched his jaw tightly as he lifted his hand to his eyes and rubbed them so coarsely that you could hear them squeaking in their sockets.

“You must have fallen harder than you thought. Did you hit your head against a rock on the way down?” Eirik sat down heavily on a timber chair next to his son and placed his hand firmly on the young man's shoulder.

“Knut is many things, my brother, but he is not one to tell lies or embellish tales. It was the wind, a foul and terrible wind.” Nori looked at Svanhild and then back at Hakon placing his hands on his hips. He adjusted his newly borrowed tunic and rubbed his forehead coarsely.

“See, I told you,” Svanhild remarked. “He's gone mad. Did you give him mushrooms again? You know how I hate it when you do that. His mind has gone soft in his old age.” Hakon stepped in front of Nori.