Chapter Twenty Eight

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As Harold opened his eyes, he found himself laying down in a Nordic house. It had been a while since he felt comfortable; it was an alien feeling to him. Not only that, but he could not even feel his wound again. It was as if he had returned back to his home. But it felt too cold, and he still saw his armour dangling in front of him. He was very well in the far reaches of Nordlund. And last he had remembered, he did not see so much snow in even winter at Westhaven. 

He opened his shirt to reveal a few of his scars. Most of them were just minor wounds with a few cuts and bruises. Then he saw the wound on his right shoulder. The arrow had left quite a large scar. 

Harold then remembered how long it had been since he made a prayer. Despite the constant fear of death throughout the journey, he was still alive. And thus, he knew it was only fair that he give his thanks to God. He knelt down and made his converse to God in the corner of his room. A small, fleeting moment was special, as the silence and peace permeated throughout the atmosphere. Something that had never happened for a long time. The small fire that was still there permeated the warmth in the room, and Harold specifically chose to be near it.

Why would the Nords provide such hospitality? Even if they consider their service of escorting the seeress, he would have been deemed a liability soon afterwards. Harold asked himself. He did not want to dwell too much on this question, as it only served as a distraction for him. He was quick to prepare himself; gathering his sword and his mail armour before he walked outside of the house. He did take a moment to appreciate that the house he currently dwells in looked homely, which was something Harold did not expect to live in.

By right, he did not have to wear such armour, as those Nords had no intention to harm him. But he knew better than to let his guard down too quickly. The wound was quick to remind him of that. 

He opened the door to greet the cool air outside. The air massaged his skin as Harold felt at peace. A strange feeling as he saw the children running past him without a care. Harold nearly unsheaths his sword, only to hear their juvenile voices. Indeed, his guard was always up, and he could not let his mind go idle. 

Harold saw the residents of the village going about their daily lives. Despite their seemingly peaceful appearance, Harold could not bring himself to rest. The wound still reminded him that anything could happen. Especially surviving such a large wound. He took a bit of pleasure to see the goats being herded. He saw the carts moving in front of him, where he spots a familiar face helping several Nordic farmers with their supplies.

"Edwin?" Harold asked as he saw his cousin carrying another sack of grain for them. 

"I just thought I could do some good for the time being," Edwin replied seeing his cousin surprised. "Have you woken up only recently? It would be great if you can help me."

"Since when you started carrying sacks of grain?" Harold chuckled as he carried the last sack that was on the cart. In a way, he was proud of how Edwin could carry those sacks by himself, albeit with a struggle. The Nords even thanked Edwin for his help, which was a gesture Harold did not expect to happen. 

"Didn't know you have taken a liking to them," Harold said. Edwin blushed at his cousin's remark. 

"What? Is wanting to help people considered as fraternizing with the enemy?" Edwin said. "I may very well fear that woman, but I am not going to just stay idle."

"I never said you were fraternizing," Harold said as he could not help but had his lips curl into a smirk. "But I did not see you carrying many goods on our journey. What made you convinced to help them?"

"That's not fair Harold," Edwin replied back sharply. "I do carry my share. And no, they did not convince me. I just thought it wouldn't hurt to help."

"Your shield does not count Edwin," Harold remarked, as he always thought the shield was a heavy burden for him. Now, at least Edwin could barely stand up straight with his shield on him. It was his family's shield, so there was no debate on whether he should not keep it. Even if it meant having a sack of rocks strapped at his back. Edwin made a point to say his farewells to the farmers he had helped. 

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