Yuletide Treasure (December 3010) - [Eorlingas]
Jan 30, 2019 0:28:47 GMT -5
Post by Ceolmund on Jan 30, 2019 0:28:47 GMT -5
“Well, I daresay I’ve made no nuisance of myself, have I, Captain?”
Ceolmund had overheard; but there was no part of his soul which would interrupt the wife of Heruthain’s command. The woman’s voice not so loud as that of her husband, but twice as serious; even Ceolmund of all people had felt the tug of her hand against his ear once or twice in his younger days when his words had stumbled and his answer came to vague for her ears.
The man merely reached for the ladle as the horn boiled, and he would soon as let a minute pass while Avila was dismissed, and then fish the small toy from the waters.
“Ceolmund, empty that pot out back for me,” Katla ordered, and the man looked up, a nod given as Avila had stormed out the door and a voice he well recognized came after. A side glance to his brother-in-law, and Ceolmund said nothing, slipping out the back to pour the pot onto the frozen earth where steam vapor rose and gusted away swiftly in the wind.
Inside the shop, Katla was bustling behind the counter for the small shield painted as a field of green with a white horse head upon it. It was placed upon the counter for inspection; as Katla moved about the room with a rag dipped in vinegar, brushing across countertops and shelves where the former woman may have touched. The pungent odor would linger through the room until it evaporated.
“And would you have a word with Balder for me?” Katla asked afterward. “His wife… must make her orders as always. Nothing has changed in that.” She could not help that the family had come downtrodden, but she moved for the horn that Ceolmund had left upon the counter after the boil, and wrapped it up in a cloth, almost smirking to herself. “A boy as Njall should have a horn that sounds clear, don’t you think?” she asked as she sat it aside, the intention for Beorhtric to deliver. Even after the boil she was uncertain that she would wish to send it home with Ceolmund, and Avila could use a little noise in her life.
Ceolmund returned to the main room, seeing the horn vanished, he looked inquisitively at Katla, and she motioned for the shelf. “Take the other, dear.” When the man brought it to the counter, along with deciding he would collect a broom from the corner, and the rest of the supplies on Runa’s list, he offered the payment. “Beorhtric,” he said stiffly, not bothering to glance upon what the man was buying. Katla looked between the two men though she said her farewells to Ceolmund as he seemed swift for the door, juggling his sack, the broom, and the cask of mead.
But one more stop was required of the man. The bakery and the smell of fresh bread and honey wafted out into the chilled air, and when he entered his senses were overwhelmed. Honeycakes require, and extra honeycakes, and so arms laden the man set off again for home, down the hill from the market, and then back up the hill again as he came to the house beneath the watchtower.
Paega and Jodis had not yet tired of the chill and he saw them behind the house where they’d smoothed the falling snow to make slick down the hill for sliding, and as was the way of the children of the hill city they wove between homes, and Deoric was there making a path for the young ones to slide upon. It gave Ceolmund pause to look around the house and watch for a moment, seeing himself the same age, in the same place, but alone. Now his nephew and daughter were surrounded by other children playing and laughing, and none dismayed for the cold; and best of all, none dismayed for the loneliness he had felt himself.
Kitta who was watching with a muff over her hands and a shawl pulled tight over her ears saw the large man with his packages juggled, and she rushed to push open the door for them.
“Mama sent me over to help with the baby when she heard the crying, but baby’s asleep,” she shrugged haphazardly. It wasn’t the baby who Ceolmund found crying as he entered the home. “She said she was just hungry. I offered to cook supper, but there isn’t a thing in that house she wanted, so I left her there… I figured...”
Ceolmund gave Kitta a half nod, and wide eyed, stepped into the house.
“Runa…” he muttered, when he saw his wife, and giving a nod to Kitta to dismiss her, the girl shut the door behind him as he unloaded his arms upon the table, and leaned the broom against the wall. “Did you have a fever?” he asked, concerned as he went to her, and his hand was upon her forehead.
Ceolmund had overheard; but there was no part of his soul which would interrupt the wife of Heruthain’s command. The woman’s voice not so loud as that of her husband, but twice as serious; even Ceolmund of all people had felt the tug of her hand against his ear once or twice in his younger days when his words had stumbled and his answer came to vague for her ears.
The man merely reached for the ladle as the horn boiled, and he would soon as let a minute pass while Avila was dismissed, and then fish the small toy from the waters.
“Ceolmund, empty that pot out back for me,” Katla ordered, and the man looked up, a nod given as Avila had stormed out the door and a voice he well recognized came after. A side glance to his brother-in-law, and Ceolmund said nothing, slipping out the back to pour the pot onto the frozen earth where steam vapor rose and gusted away swiftly in the wind.
Inside the shop, Katla was bustling behind the counter for the small shield painted as a field of green with a white horse head upon it. It was placed upon the counter for inspection; as Katla moved about the room with a rag dipped in vinegar, brushing across countertops and shelves where the former woman may have touched. The pungent odor would linger through the room until it evaporated.
“And would you have a word with Balder for me?” Katla asked afterward. “His wife… must make her orders as always. Nothing has changed in that.” She could not help that the family had come downtrodden, but she moved for the horn that Ceolmund had left upon the counter after the boil, and wrapped it up in a cloth, almost smirking to herself. “A boy as Njall should have a horn that sounds clear, don’t you think?” she asked as she sat it aside, the intention for Beorhtric to deliver. Even after the boil she was uncertain that she would wish to send it home with Ceolmund, and Avila could use a little noise in her life.
Ceolmund returned to the main room, seeing the horn vanished, he looked inquisitively at Katla, and she motioned for the shelf. “Take the other, dear.” When the man brought it to the counter, along with deciding he would collect a broom from the corner, and the rest of the supplies on Runa’s list, he offered the payment. “Beorhtric,” he said stiffly, not bothering to glance upon what the man was buying. Katla looked between the two men though she said her farewells to Ceolmund as he seemed swift for the door, juggling his sack, the broom, and the cask of mead.
But one more stop was required of the man. The bakery and the smell of fresh bread and honey wafted out into the chilled air, and when he entered his senses were overwhelmed. Honeycakes require, and extra honeycakes, and so arms laden the man set off again for home, down the hill from the market, and then back up the hill again as he came to the house beneath the watchtower.
Paega and Jodis had not yet tired of the chill and he saw them behind the house where they’d smoothed the falling snow to make slick down the hill for sliding, and as was the way of the children of the hill city they wove between homes, and Deoric was there making a path for the young ones to slide upon. It gave Ceolmund pause to look around the house and watch for a moment, seeing himself the same age, in the same place, but alone. Now his nephew and daughter were surrounded by other children playing and laughing, and none dismayed for the cold; and best of all, none dismayed for the loneliness he had felt himself.
Kitta who was watching with a muff over her hands and a shawl pulled tight over her ears saw the large man with his packages juggled, and she rushed to push open the door for them.
“Mama sent me over to help with the baby when she heard the crying, but baby’s asleep,” she shrugged haphazardly. It wasn’t the baby who Ceolmund found crying as he entered the home. “She said she was just hungry. I offered to cook supper, but there isn’t a thing in that house she wanted, so I left her there… I figured...”
Ceolmund gave Kitta a half nod, and wide eyed, stepped into the house.
“Runa…” he muttered, when he saw his wife, and giving a nod to Kitta to dismiss her, the girl shut the door behind him as he unloaded his arms upon the table, and leaned the broom against the wall. “Did you have a fever?” he asked, concerned as he went to her, and his hand was upon her forehead.