𝑨𝒓𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒉 | ✔️

5 | Dinner At the Tavern

Summer, 5th June 864 AD - Evening

During dinner, I barely touched the roast hare lying on my plate. Since there wasn't really much to eat at home, father insisted we dine at a tavern in the village square, run by the barkeep, Wildred. While the venue wasn't as large as the Meade Hall, it still had its rustic charm.

Tattered old tapestries draped over the timbered walls, displaying bloody battles between armored warriors on horseback, men on long ships and deceased kings on thrones. Rings of wax candles hung suspended on chains in the ceiling, igniting the dim room.
Bartenders served customers while smiling waitresses went around tables, taking orders and delivering meals.

Usually the tavern was full of life, but tonight, it had become a ghost town. I don't usually come here, but during the times I did, I would witness men engaging to drunken fights, which resulted in someone losing a tooth or two. I even saw somebody getting kicked out for inappropriate behavior with one of the barmaids.
Tonight, only a few customers hung around chugging their drinks. Slurred conversations and uplifting laughter surrounded the bleak atmosphere, indicating people were already knocked down with intoxication.

After a day of being swarmed by excited villagers, and trading exotic goods, I could tell father had become overwhelmed. The shadows under his wrinkled eye bags showed he hasn't really had any decent sleep.
Honestly, how are you able to when you're steering a ship for days and having to watch your backs for invaders?

So tonight I agreed to come along with father to the tavern to enjoy a quiet meal. Edwyn was with Aidan and Cwenhild in the Meade Hall.
I imagined the three of them in hysterics as Edwyn shared one of his ridiculous jokes, and maybe even his ludicrous encounters with magical forest beings. He had always been quite a jester among us.
That was probably one of the reasons why Edwyn was so well loved by most people – he was easy going and enjoyed living his life.
Thinking back to the encounter in the forest, I wondered if word had slipped out about the cloaked figure. Aidan trusted Edwyn, who had always been his close childhood friend. Surely, he couldn't help himself from bringing up the intruder.

Then again, before I parted with him at the village outskirts, Aidan made it clear he wasn't going to speak about our encounter since there was very little information about that intruder. Still, I found it odd how the intruder had not attacked when he had the chance.

"Ardith, you haven't touched your meal." Father's voice ripped me out of my thoughts. Blinking, I looked up to see father had torn a chicken leg.

My eyes stared at my meal with distaste. I fiddled around the hare's carcass, losing my appetite. What a grim fate this poor animal had to endure.
I wondered what sort of life this innocent creature lived before its death. Perhaps the creature spent its glorious days roaming freely in the woods, savoring the taste of pasture and carrots, and naively thinking nothing horrid could ever change their life forever.

Ironically, my life was similar to the hare as a child. Growing up, I would spend my days running around with Edwyn in our garden, laughing as we played a game of tag. Whenever father returned from his travels, he would place me on his lap, and I hung onto his every word as he shared his exciting adventures across the vast ocean. Mother would serve us her wonderful cooking as we huddled around the warmth of the fire exchanging innocent conversations.

I had been naïve to think nothing will change our simple, adequate life. Though, I was proven wrong when I watched everything be taken away so soon. One fateful night, my tear-stricken nine-year-old self had witnessed my own mother being snatched away by Vikings, who had broken into our home. Mother's screaming and cussing nor was her violently thrashing any match against their strong grasp. These burly men were desperate for slaves, so they thought mother would be perfect.