A Whisper to the North

Chapter XVII ✠ First Love

It was already dusk when Una, Frey, and Yvar made it to the main River Severn, leaving behind their kingdom in Snowdon in the north. They had followed a branch of the river to guide them there. Una knew it by heart. Anything beyond that was out of Una's territory. She had never crossed beyond the Severn, only the little branches that stretched north into her kingdom. They knew that this bend in the river meant they would eventually find Offa's dyke if they head East. Beyond this was the realms of English Mercia, home of the not so warm Anglo-Saxons.

"Before we cross, I think we should camp here, you know, so we don't have those Saxons trying to slice us open if we ride over the dyke." Frey said.

"Are you tired?" Yvar looked at Una and then looked at Frey and began to speak Norse to him.

"I don't like secrets." Una laughed as she slid off her horse.

"But it's no secret that we are all tired." She winked at Frey and patted Roosa's neck.

"It's good you don't know what we are saying, Yvar has a nasty tongue." Frey laughed as he slid off Gwen.

Frey moaned when his feet touched the ground, both in pain and pleasure.

"It feels so good to stand!" He laughed, trying to walk.

Una watched as his legs trembled and shook as he walked.

"It's obviously been a while since you've ridden for so long." Una laughed, walking over to him, her legs barely shaking or bowing.

"Guess that's our answer," Yvar said, dismounting Balder.

"Should we build a fire?" Frey meekly said.

"A fire? Out here!? You want to die so badly!" Yvar laughed.

"Seriously, no fire?" He asked.

"Unless you want someone to come and raid us. I'm assuming you had a roaring fire when those brigands came along." Una laughed.

Frey gulped and sat down in the tall grass.

"I suppose it isn't a good idea. I'm just so cold!" Frey said, holding his arms close.

"It's going to get colder the further north we go, so it would be best if you started putting on some flesh you lost." Una laughed as she walked over to her saddlebag and pulled out a large piece of greasy stag meat.

"Here, this will bolster you up in no time." Una smiled and tossed him a piece.

He looked at the glistening piece of meat and ate it, slowly, like a rabbit nibbles on the grass.

"You don't like it?" Una laughed as she pulled out a large wool blanket and laid it on the ground.

"I prefer lamb, but this is a bit thicker and drier than I like. Still good, though." He laughed.

Una could tell he was trying to be excellent. It is true. It tasted like the way a barn smells, but it was meat, and it didn't rot with rain, heat, or snow. This is what Una and her soldiers all ate when traveling or in battle. It was lightweight, easy to make, and lasted forever, it seemed. It was an acquired taste, even Una still has trouble eating it, and Una's favorite food was usually offal, the sections of meat used in soups and stews, not to be eaten as a main dish.

"I brought my bow, so if we see any stag or bear, I can hunt us one so we won't have to eat those shingles of meat every day." Una laughed.

Frey's eyes glistened.

"Oh, I love beer and fruit!" He smiled.

Yvar looked at Frey and then at Una with a laugh.

"Keep your eye's peeled then!" Una said, taking her pack off her back and laying down.