Cursed Blessings

Cursed Blessings: Chapter One

Chapter 1

         "Times are changing," said King Sigmund as he sat upon his steed atop the hill that designated the southern border to his lands.  "What once were many kingdoms is now one nation.  And now we ride into the Southern Kingdom as guests who are invited by King Thorgrum and not as warriors to conquer.  This marks the beginnings of the peace we have fought so long and hard for."  With a triumphant thrust of his fist to the heavens he added, "This is our legacy!"

         The twelve men which accompanied him repeated his gesture and let out their victory cries.

         Satisfied that his men were of good heart he turned and took the first step across his border.  He was immediately followed by his lifelong friend and commander of his armies, Groud.

         A man who was average in height with shoulder length, curly blond hair and a well groomed mustache that fell into his neatly cropped beard Groud was by far the bravest warrior Sigmund had ever known.  His opinion was respected by the king and never was he taken lightly.  The king motioned for his friend to take his place at his side.

         "Do we dare to hope, Groud," He asked as his companion settled next to him.

         "Hope is all we have," was the simple reply of the man of few words.  He reminisced over a lifetime of battles.  Some won.  Some lost.  All with purpose, so he believed.  And he let escape the slightest of sighs.

         The two men were fast approaching the winter of their lives and maybe now they could live out their days in peace.  Hope was all they had.

         King Thorgrum of the Northern Kingdom had sent a messenger to his neighbor, Sigmund, king of the newly united Southern Kingdom inviting him to be the honored guest in his Great Hall for negotiations.  The messenger was not specific about what the talks would be, but an invitation warranted safe passage to and from according to Druidic Law.  To violate this would mean death and dishonor.  Something no king would afford.

         Thorgrum could not be held responsible for those who lived outside the law, so caution had to be exercised in setting up camp.  Groud ordered two scouts to ride ahead to locate a defensible site.

         When the ground was reached, the warriors needed no orders.  Their security was always effective.  They dismounted their steeds and formed a circle and fanned outward slowly for half a mile eyeing the surrounding wood from treetop to ground looking for any sign of danger.  The exercise served not only for security, but also hunting for the evening provision of meat.  The perimeter was set and watches were ordered.  Camp was ready to be made.


         Groud sat across the fire from Sigmund.  It was the best way for the two warriors to watch out for one another.  He studied his friend for a hint of what was in his head.

         Sigmund had always been at least a head taller than Groud.  His black hair suggested an air of mystery to those around him, but those closest to him knew there was nothing strange about him.  His beard was a long braid the length of a hand-width.  Sideburns, braided also, falling over his shoulders to mid chest giving him the appearance of a true North man.  The life of a warrior had taught him to give away no thought through expression.  The thoughts of a king are his own and Groud knew that it was not wise to ask.

         By mid-day on the third day of travel in the Southern Kingdom the village of King Thorgrum was in sight.  As they exited the woodland they heard immediately the sounding of the watchtower gong.  From their position they could hear the drumming begin.  As they approached the village in what seemed like an agonizingly slow trot, they could identify the drumming and singing as a festival not only welcoming them, but also thanking the gods for their safe arrival.

         The town, which was also the capitol of the territory, was no different than any other tribal city of the North men.  At its center was a huge, round, hut-like structure at the top of a hill built of wood and mortar as were the habitats of the people surrounding it.  This was the dwelling of the king, also known as the Great Hall.  The buildings encompassing it were small and simple.  Some were homes.  Some were workshops for the skilled tradesmen such as blacksmiths, tanners, winemakers and healers.  On the outer rim of the town were the liveries.  All of this was encircled by a rather large wall made of stone and mortar.  It was an opposing force to any army attempting to lay siege.

         As the band of men entered the gates they were greeted with a parade of citizens who danced in the streets with the celebration of their arrival.  The tide of people separated, allowing them to pass, while throwing white flower petals at the feet of their horses making it seem as though they were trotting on a carpet of white hides.  This honor led them the entire way to the Great Hall.

         A young herald greeted them with a successfully grand bow, welcoming them, then turned and ran swiftly up the steps leading to the Great Hall to announce their arrival.

         "That boy can be no more than thirteen moons past his right of passage," Groud observed aloud.

         "My Lord Thorgrum," the young man began with an air of nobility, "it is my honor to present the first king to unite the Northern Kingdom of Germany, Lord Sigmund, and his First Commander, Groud, here at your request."  After finishing he bowed out respectfully as King Thorgrum rose from his throne with a smile that said he was very pleased.

         "Welcome to the Southern Kingdom of Germany, King Sigmund.  I hope your journey was a safe and pleasant one."

         This was the first time anyone outside of his homeland had referred to as the king of a united country.  This made him swell with pride because it meant that his lands and he were being accepted as a nation by rulers other than those within his borders.

         Sigmund took in the whole of Thorgrum, a man not much different than himself accepting that he was fair of skin and hair.

         Kneeling to one knee and bowing his head, Sigmund answered, "Our journey was a good one.  I thank the Lord for his invitation."

         "I am most pleased to hear this news and hope you find comfort in my home.  And Groud, how do you fare?"

         Thorgrum's attention being turned to Groud was a sign that Sigmund could rise to his feet and also that Groud must step forward and repeat the gesture.  "I fare well, my Lord.  I thank you for your invitation and pray the All Father grants you health and strength to match your hospitality."

         "Now that the formalities are over, I imagine that you and your men are parched and hungry.  Come, let us retire to the table where there is much nourishment and you may take your leave of the road."

         Immediately servants entered the room through an entrance just behind the throne.  This door led to a series of walkways.  These tunnels would lead a person into the hill the town was built around.  The passages were used to hide not only the living quarters of the king and his family as well as food, supplies and weapons, but also to protect and shelter the citizens who could not fight in a time of siege.

         The people hustled to and from so quickly that in a matter of less than one minute the table was set and laden with food.  The warriors were left in amazement, though they did not show it.

         Each man was given his own bowl of water so that he may wash the dust of travel from his hands and face.  When these bowls were taken away they were replaced with plates that were heavy with bread, cheese and fruit.  In the center of the table was wild sow, pheasant, stag and beef.  All a man had to do was take the meat he wanted.  In their place settings were also large drinking horns.  It was a feast.

         As a man raised his cup it was filled with mead.  He would make a toast to both kings and drink the sweet honey nectar in several large gulps, emptying his vessel, and finally he could sit.

         Being the one to extend the invitation, Thorgrum was not required to offer a salute, but he had other plans and felt that these brave soldiers at his table deserved more than just a nonchalant wave of his hand.  He motioned for each man to have his horn filled again and offered his own homage to the men whose actions had earned his respect.  The final, and best, was saved for Sigmund.

         "The tales of your brave deeds has traveled far and wide.  It is my greatest honor to be the first to have you sit at my table and dine with me as the king who has united a divided people.  It shall be the beginning of a long celebration of peace."

         There was silence, though not awkward, while Thorgrum made his speech.  He then studied the dark gaze of Sigmund, who rose from his seat, raised his horn and proclaimed, "Peace," in a thunderous voice.  His men followed suit, raising their crude chalices to the gods, and drank.  The bargain of peace had been made.