Page 65 of My Fair Viking

"So be it. I wish you well, physician."

"And I wish you well, soldier."

They nodded at each other.

Their conversation was presumably ended, but they both stood staring at one another.

Finally he said, "We are so different. You let blood, I stanch blood."

"There is no future together for the likes of us," she agreed, reading his inner meaning. But then she asked, "Have you never killed anyone, Adam?"

He stared at her for a long moment. "I have."

"More than once?"

He laughed grimly. "Yea, Tyra, more than once, and I did not like it any more the second and third and fourth time than the first."

"I do not enjoy it either, you know, but it is a fact of my life."

"I do not judge you, Tyra. I really don't. It's just that I have chosen a different path.

She nodded her understanding. "And so you will never take a life again."

"I did not say that."

She arched her brows in question.

"If I needed to defend myself, I would fight to the death. If the lives of Tykir and Alinor, Eirik and Eadyth, or their families were in jeopardy, I would not hesitate to take up the sword." He reached out a hand to her chin and raised it so that she would meet his gaze. "I would kill in a trice to save you."

Tyra was touched by his regard, but the fact remained that they were opposites. She sighed at the hopelessness of the attraction that thrummed between them.

"Will you take my shield Brave Wolf as a token?" Adam asked, looking down at the shield that she still held in her right hand. "It belonged to my stepfather, Selik. He claimed it carried much battle luck."

"I will be honored to carry it, Adam." The words came out hoarse over the lump in her throat.

He leaned forward, kissed her lightly, and whispered against her mouth, "Be safe."

Then he was gone.

But not from Tyra's mind… or heart.

Ingrith sniffed the air that morning, noticed the frost on the herbs in her kitchen garden and a few snow flurries in the sky. Clear signs that winter was almost here.

Satisfied, she gave a hearty shout of "Butchering day!" in the great hall where everyone was breaking fast.

She was not the least deterred by the equally hearty communal groan, nor by the few youthlings who attempted futilely to escape.

Tyra and Rafn and a hundred soldiers were off on patrol. Adam and Rashid were engaged in doctoring duties. But everyone else was forced to heed Ingrith's call to arms.

It was only early October, but already there was frost on the ground at night. Soon the days would grow shorter. In fact, this far north, there were long periods of time when daylight appeared only one or two hours a day. And so frigid cold was it that a person could not venture outdoors unless they were covered with numerous layers of furs.

It was a harsh land, but one which suited the Vikings well.

Throughout that day, everyone at Stoneheim, regardless of age, except for the guardsmen on duty, was enlisted to help with the fall butchering of the pigs… one hundred fat acorn-fed hogs. Eventually, the animals would hang by their tied hind legs from long poles susspended across tripods, which had been constructed by Breanne. The poles extended the Length of one of the far fields. Huge cauldrons of boiling water were ready to scald the skin for scraping, then to make the various dishes that would be savored on winter nights far distant.

A gruesome, smelly process it was, but one of many that were necessary for their survival during the winter months. Hay was already stored for winter silage. Massive amounts of wood had been cut to fuel the many hearths. Fruit and vegetables had been preserved. Hundreds of fish had been dried or salted. There were many other jobs to be done before snow and ice cut them off from the rest of the world, but the hog butchering could not wait.

By the end of the long day, every part of the hogs was put to good use, even the tongues and brains. The skins would be dried for leather. Hams, shoulders, and sides were cut and salted away in the smokehouse. The ears, head, and feet were boiled for many hours, then chopped and put back into the liquid to gel and be sliced into a delicacy called souse… an acquired taste, some said. Intestines and the stomach were cleaned and used to make sausages. Rendered lard that settled on the top of the boiling liquids was scraped off to be saved for cooking or making soap.