Amputation draft 1

“Amputation.”

Stoick the Vast jerked his head around at the word. Gothi rarely spoke, though she was capable of it. Gobber had served her for years, and Stoick, accustomed to injury and death as he was, heard the grief in her tone. The Isle of Berk had many amputees, but to lose both an arm and a leg was a cruel blow.

The one word said everything. Without it, any attempt to save Gobber’s limbs would lead to his death. It she was to amputate, it must be soon. Stoick, as Chief of Berk, must provide her with permission.

“Do it.” Stoick walked outside and bellowed for his men: Hoark, Ack, Spitelout, Hardnut. They would have to hold Gobber down to take his arm and leg. For all Gothi’s skill, she was child-sized. Stoick would make the cuts, his brute strength making the procedure swift for his friend.

The men came, eleven of them, and Stoick chose five to help him with the removing the leg. Gothi had poured mead over the injuries, and Spitelout forced even more down his throat, rubbing Gobber’s neck to make him swallow.

The axe blade was heated, and the men took their stations, Spitelout pinning his chest. Stoick grabbed the wad of leather from Gothi and picked up the axe.

The strike connected cleanly, and Gobber thrashed, screaming. He was incoherent, and Spitelout fought to keep him down. The junior healers threw the lost leg into the fire and doused the open stump a second time. Gothi raised a hand to stop Stoick from taking the arm. One healer poured more mead into his mouth, and while Gobber fought the ministrations, he fought less than before.

Stoick called for the Lord Marshal to assist Spitelout, and released the first group of men. He would not force them to endure the next amputation.

The room was hot. Gobber was pale. “His skin is cold,” someone said. Stoick looked to Gothi, who nodded.

“Hold on,” he commanded. The men held firm. Stoick hit below his friend’s elbow, and Gobber screeched as the axe sliced through. The healers poured more mead into the wound, and Gobber howled in anguish. Only one of the men turned green, thank Thor. Gobber’s screams turned to whimpers, and Gothi knelt next to her nephew and stroked his forehead. She shook.

Gothi rarely showed grief. On Berk, debilitating injuries and death were regular visitors; Stoick presided over too many funerals to fall apart when he conducted another. Gothi held her feelings inside because a grieving healer frightens people.

Gothi had no husband nor children, and Gobber was the nearest thing she had to a son. Gobber never married, and the absence of a crying wife and distraught children was likely why the priestess let herself mourn.

Stoick felt a tug on his cloak. Gothi’s apprentice looked at his Chief, then the bloodied axe. Stoick released the weapon to him. It occurred to him that the axe required cleaning and sharpening, a job for the blacksmith who’d lost two limbs. The heat was stifling, and the men holding Gobber looked lost now he was still.

“Return to the village. There’s a dragon raid to recover from, and you’re needed there. Spite,” Stoick told his brother, “find the council members and tell them what happened, then report to the smithy. Hardnut, begin the cleanup protocol. We need to rebuild, check food stores, and arrange to replace what we can. The work needs to go on. Claim all the help you need,” Stoick told him, “and don’t take no as an answer.”

“What about you, Chief?”

“I’ll be along soon. “ Tears streaked his cheeks, and he said nothing else. The Lord Marshal prodded the men out the door.

It was the three of them then—Gothi, Gobber, and himself. Others worked, but Stoick didn’t see them. He knelt beside Gothi, his height almost even with hers, and gently dropped a hand to her shoulder. “He’ll be all right. Gobber wouldn’t dare leave you, not when you’d drag him back anyway. The Norns are well aware you’d hunt them down. He’ll live, you’ll see.”

She nodded, exhaling, and placed her hand on his. It was a thank you, and when next she looked at Stoick, she flapped both hands at him. He left, making a list of things to do. Someone else could run the cleanup and recovery today. Stoick had weapons to sharpen and nails to make.