Blood And Stone

Chapter 43: Hersir to the Bloodless

The warmth from the crackling flames in the fireplace slowly melted the thin layer of ice that covered Rissa's furs. She had spent a rather long stint out in the soft snow this morning, hunting for meat to fill their bellies. The hunting party had done well and the experience had been made quite fun with the little slip of a girl, Lyric helping them. Though she had certainly tried to refrain from laughing too much, Rissa had been unable to hide the amusement she had felt as Lyric told them stories of her first few hunting trips. Though Rissa's favorite had to be her silly attempt at killing squirrels with rocks. Rissa had to admit that it could be done but it required skill, not luck. As she sat now, taking the last bite of her stew for the night, her silver eyes looked across the dark table to watch Lyric.

The young woman spooned more of her stew into the bowl of a young boy who looked as though he hadn't had a full belly since he suckled at his mother's breast. Though Lyric herself was rather thin, she never thought twice before giving some of her food to those more hungry than she. Every time she demonstrated her giving nature, a small warm sensation spread across Rissa's chest. Something about this little slave girl intrigued her and she had found herself in Lyric's company more often than not over the passing days. Her quick action with Frandril as they fought the large creatures had greatly impressed Rissa and she demanded that Lyric be brought to her chambers and given a cot close to the fireplace.

Lyric had slowly become part of The Ulfheðnar, earning her place by doing as she was instructed. Though many of the others did not seem to care for the way Lyric was becoming one of them, they knew better than to argue about it. They simply sat and threw her uncertain looks. Rissa disliked this and took it upon herself to train Lyric with different weapons. She learned quite a bit, her skills growing rapidly around the seax and dagger-type blades.

Rissa had nearly been cut by one of her blades two days ago. A fact that normally would have angered her but this time, she found herself strangely aroused. No one had ever been able to cut her. Of course, Lyric had cut some fur away from her clothing when they first fought but this was different. Lyric's blade had run across her skin, the cold metal sending an undeniably strong shiver through her spine. Sadly, she had not left a scratch and that had cost Lyric the fight. She quickly found herself on her knees, looking up at Rissa with her blade against her throat, a sight that Rissa liked a little too much.

Frandril's dull voice floated through the air, mumbling about some sort of spice that Lyric had taught him about. Rissa paid no attention to him, her mind filled with questions she longed to ask Lyric. After a few more torturous minutes of Frandril's yammering, Rissa drained her horn and rose from her place, walking away without a single hint of goodbye to her right-hand man. Carrying her bowl, Rissa approached Lyric and the boy, casually dumping the remains of her stew into his bowl. His nervous eyes met hers. He stood, put his fist over his heart, and bowed. "Th-thank you, Jarl Bloodless."

Rissa bowed to the boy and replied, "The honor is mine, young Ulfheðnar. Shall we consider thus a trade?"

The boy looked at her, confused as he tilted his head to the side. "Trade?"

"Stew for the company of Ms Lyric?"

The boy considered this for a few moments. He looked from the steaming food to Lyric and back several times. Having made his decision, he carefully lifted the bowl to Rissa. "You can have your stew back."

Rissa roared with laughter, the boy's sheepish grin bringing up a bubble of amusement that had settled in her stomach earlier that day. Lyric giggled with delight as she ruffled the boy's hair. "Keep your food, Palit. The Jarl needs me but I will always be your girl, young warrior." Lyric stood and smiled at the boy who quickly bowed to her before sitting and quickly eating more.