Curse Of Blood: Gods & Monsters

Chapter XXI - Heida

Thing — Throughout the Norse world, open-air governmental assemblies called þing (things) met regularly, usually once a year in most of the Norse lands.

Local þing, regional þing, and (as in he case of Iceland) a national þing existed, called the Alþing (Althing) which is what I based my 'Klanerting' on. These meetings were open to virtually all free men. At these sessions, complaints were heard, decisions were rendered, and laws were passed.

Fifteen years later...

Heida had never been to a thing before, not even a local gathering. The Klanerting was, by comparison, the largest and most impressive assembly of clans in all of Nordrlund; and every freeman worth his salt would be attending this one. Some small part of her young heart was rather excited to be attending this most illustrious of things, but the greater portion — where she was most pragmatic — loathed the idea of being one amongst such a congested crowd of clan-folk.

They would only judge her and whisper behind their hands or, worse still, raise their voices purposefully so that their hurtful epithets would carry. Each of the barbs that were aimed, every vile appellation conceived, invariably hit their mark, and in most cases reduced her to tears. But not this time. Nay, she would make Aila proud and hold her emotions steady should any seek to injure her. And they would try. They always did.

With that resolve uppermost in mind, she endeavored to absorb her mind with more positive distractions. She had never walked so far in her life, but they were almost within sight of the Klanerting and the valley, Tingdal, in which it was held each summer. At least their journey had been only a mere two day's travel; some clans were wont to trek for weeks to reach Tingdal.

Casting her eyes up along the well-trodden path, she descried a group of travelers in the distance that were some ways ahead of their own large company. Since the other clan was far too distant to be of much interest to her, she focused her gaze instead to where Aila's brother was ruffling Søren's hair and laughing with the boy's father, Ragnar.

Eirik was a score and nearly four years now, but as yet unmarried and seemingly in no hurry to change that fact. Heida perforce found herself admiring his muscled back and lean waist far too often of late, and was engaged in that very pastime when he turned around suddenly to scan the hills behind them. His eyes inadvertently caught hers staring and so she hurriedly seized them upon a nearby tree instead, as though the study of its aged, black bark were of outmost medicinal importance to her.

You ninny! she groaned inwardly, blushing like fool. A man such as he would never look at a girl of her youth and inconsequence in that way. Heida was but fifteen — gangly, pallid, and gauche. Practically androgynous!

He, by contrast, was everything she was not: well-loved, respected, handsome, and sagacious despite his youth. Would that his features were not so expertly wrought, she might not love him so well, but they were that and more. It was an extremely warm day and all the men had by now removed their tunics, including Eirik. 

The beads of perspiration that clung to his nape had already moistened and darkened the sun-kissed hair that rested atop his brawny shoulders, affecting a lankness where his curls might elsewise have been. He had kept his hair shorter this summer and to that end, his and every other beard, at least those that were old enough to grow one, was cropped almost flush against the skin since 'twas far too humid to leave it otherwise.

However, they could all be naked and she'd not see them. Only Eirik held her attention now. Had the gods blessed her with Brenna's lithe beauty and matured proportions, she might have attracted his notice for herself. But as fate would have it, her lot was instead to observe how her idol's regard would flit ever and anon in her friend's direction whenever they shared propinquity.