Arjeormas Black'd Bone

VII

A raindrop and another and another rolled together and dripped off of a drooping leaf. Abjorn the Later was consumed by greenery, crouched and still, hiding in the camouflage. His men were all hidden as well, and although he could not see a one of them, he knew they were everything. They had been ordered to surround the boarder of the Christian community. Another raindrop fell, and he shifted his gaze to the left. There was his battle-axe, strapped to his side, ready for any moment's notice. A thousand sword-tips dances across the back of his neck, and he jerked his chin up to see the face of boy. Close. He had seen him. The boy lifted his hand over his mouth, and without even looking round, he started to creep forward, towards the over-grown foliage.

Abjorn the Later's heart was a pounded drum, but his body was stone. The boy was now right before him, with his hand reached forward to push aside a branch. Abjorn the Later snatched the boy's wrist and slammed him against an oak tree. He then pinned him there by pressing his knee into the boy's stomach and holding his neck against the bark with his one right arm. Their eyes locked gaze, their panting, gasping breaths froze still in the air. The boy dared to stare at the stump of on the left side of this terrifying beast's body, and then he found the arm. Horrified, wondering pale blue eyes looked back up. He tried to gulp for air, but he throat was firmly held captive. Abjorn the Later saw this, and loosened his hold, slightly. He understood mutual fear.

"Hvor gammel er du, gutt?" He huffed in a low growl. Tears began to dwell in the boy's eye. "I said, how old are you at this time? Answer if you care for your breath."

"I-I am ten and nine since the warmer times. I am called Aiken."

"Almost a score, almost a man. Tell me, Aiken, I see wisdom in your eyes, so why did you not run far from me?"

"I am not to hold fear in my heart, else for the Lord. If I am almost a man, then what, may I ask, are you?" Curiosity over took the control of Aiken's speak, and he forgot his fear.

The chief paused, looking at the boy before him, then spoke softly, "I am chieftain Abjorn the Later of the late Wulf-Viking's men, bearing from the mighty Nord. Are all your people as you are in your spirit?"

"Spirit? Ay, we are people of good spirits, and serve the Lord faithfully. Are your people here to pillage us, like you have done to those like us?"

"My people are not here from before this time. Who is your lord? The one god of whom I have heard tell?" His goal and gold almost in sight, he pressed on.

"There is none other than the one Lord God, high above. It is in Christ we trust, and in him alone we trust."

"Do you think you could trust in any legend? Would you be fool enough to trust your enemy as well? Would you trust me?" Abjorn the Later scoffed, for he saw he had no reason for fear from this boy.

"Well, are you sent by the Lord?" He considered, to himself, that any man may be a man sent from God, especially those you would not expect at a church's door.

"Ja, ja, I am sent by your lord, or my own whim, for your lord is nothing more. By Thor's hammer, this be true." He made light of all the boy held true, yet as soon as the last word left his lips, his mind felt not quite settled.

"Did you lose your arm to this hammer?" Eyeing the axe once more.

"I lost no arm, for I have it always by my side. Show no disrespect for the god of thunder, else you may be struck." He had meant this as a threat, but it came as a sincere warning.

"I will not know a strike of fire from the heaven's, as you claim, for although I trust in the Lord, I also trust in the love I see in your eyes."

"What bravery or ignorance you have. You do not see heart. There must be a stray light in your eyes." The sun was quite low now, caressing the earth behind a distant hill.

"You spake it yourself, I hold a wisdom, and with it, I say, one may peer into your eyes and see your soul. I see the love, the agape, in them."

The foreign sound confused him, "Agape?" he repeated.

"A thing I have learned from my elder sister, since she began her new life with the sisters of the church."

"Never mind that. Listen quick. If you answer me this, I shall set you free to fly away from this place. Are there treasures in this church of yours?"

"Ay, an entire kingdom, one may dare say... Yet stay a moment. Why free me? I had been warned that those of the Nord were savages, murderers. Is not this true? Had not some of your likeness attacked my kind far down the coast just this year?"

"All be that true, brethren of a kind may have done so, but as you aid me in my quest, I shall not harm you. Do not expect this from any other Nord man, however."

"What has made you different?"

"Too long a tale. What has made you so different that you should not call for help upon sight of me?"

"Too long a tale. How shall I thank thee for sparing my life this day? Will I see you again soon, Abjorn the Later, chief of Nordic folk? Ask of me any thing." His voice was hopeful, although Abjorn the Later could not understand why.

"I must be content with only willing to see you again, since I will be returning home by the end of tomorrow. I will not let the image of your face leave my memory, and I may even wonder after you. You may give me a name, as a token. Nothing more." This he said in manner that was both stern and soft.

"I will not waste any more time by asking why. May I call you Arjeormas? It was my name before I was christened."

"That you may, and I shall keep it for you, as it is a fair enough token. Now, fly as an eagle, and keep safe from the outskirts of towne while you do so. My wulvs, my men, they are under orders to kill on sight. Be out of sight by nightfall, and thus safe from the fires to come."

"Your wulvs, as you call them, they will harm my people, will they not?"

"Fly." Abjorn the Later uttered, his face once again becoming a cold stone. The boy found flight the moment he was released, his head often peeking back over his shoulder at the man he just met.