Shivery Winter's Woe

18 -The Nordic Way

"He's alive." The vassal scratched his beard toiling with his curls. He sat at the morning breakfast. Shepherds came and ate quickly. It begun raining the night before and the sheep hid under any tree available. Soaked boots and shoes pilled at the entry. Bare feet clapped against the wood floor at each step shepherds took.

Spencer starred down at an empty plate. Some crumbs were left behind on his porcelain plate.

'Are you going to eat?" Axel asked. For a moment, Spencer stared at nothing. He was quiet and barely breathed. Of the whole dinning hall, he was the only one silent. "Would you mind telling me later what's wrong?" and Axel turned to his own plate.

"William is awake. Why isn't he moving?" Spencer bellowed like the Nord he was. He was angry. His friend was awake but still sleeping; do nothing. "We're getting lazy. My mud dragon grows fatter every day. Soon it will be William; fatter every day and night."

"Well aren't you quick to conclusions." Penelope held a hand out for Spencer's plate. For the day, her business was the dishes. Spencer leaned away for her to take it. Penelope raised her nose and spilt the crumbs at Spencer's lap. "He's not getting any fatter. Must I remind you he hasn't eaten a thing in nearly two weeks?"

"I see." Said Spencer.

"You see, it's a funny thing how men work. If they catch a cold, you'd think they're dying. If you think they're dying, they think it's just a scratch." Penelope went on her way collecting the plates that remained.

Spencer couldn't hind a chuckle. "First time I ever agreed with women."

"Boys." Said Conner Valien. Axel and Spencer turned to their master with low heads. "If William is awake and moving, I suggest finding him medicine to boost his health."

"Like what, father? We had plenty of ointments and elixirs here." Said Axel.

"Not those sorts." Said the vassal. "Herbs. Powerful herbs able to beat a different sickness."

"In town?" Spencer asked.

The vassal only nodded.

"Certainly." Axel stood and fixed his bracers back over each shoulder.

*****

Before Spencer had any choice in anything, he was quickly taken, not lead, but taken from the manor and down the path to the busy town of Hallowsted. The rain continued soaking the remainder of any dry clothing Spencer and Axel wore. There was no mud in the streets of Hallowsted. There wasn't anything to make mud. There were no animals, nor carts, nor creatures that made any prints in the dirt. The water flowed down the streets to the gutter. It wasn't until Spencer realized all the roads were brick why everything was so undisturbed; the roads weren't dirt, they were simply dirty.

Occasionally, Spencer would catch a glance of faces peeping through glass windows. He once saw a set of eyes through a mail slot (though he did not know what a mail slot was). They were all elderly, ridged, and silent. They were all alone and never found together or in anyway unified. Spencer looked back an ally only to see an old hag standing under a rainspout to wash her face. Her face didn't stretch with the motions she washed her cheeks; she was scribbled like a stale fruit. All the moisture was sucked from her by the years.

"It really has been sixty years? Not a single child was born?" Spencer tagged behind as Axel led through the city.

"Yup." Said the youth.

"Though, why?"

Axel shrugged. "No one knows, not even my father and he's lived in Hallowsted all his life."