Isolde was leaning forward, her hands on her knees, intently listening to Magnus as he finished his tale. "You mean to tell me, that the student Bj?rn killed a lesser demon...and Rognald killed a demon?" Isolde''s skepticism was as clear as the blonde of her hair.


    "Well," Magnus explained, in a matter-of-fact tone, "Bj?rn may have been a student, but you have to remember how long they had been traveling through the south, his only past time was rowing a boat or sparring with friends – not to mention, if Bj?rn was here now he would give the credit to the All Father. And Rognald, Rognald was a legend among all of the villages in the north – ALL of them, long before he killed that demon. He too, would give his victory to the All Father, Is?lde. This story is mine to tell, and it is the truth, so help me Allfather." Bj?rn swore, "Many of the folk you see in the village are cousins and distant relations to the other men of that original exploration party.  But me, I am directly related from Bj?rn''s first son to his son, to his son, etc. I can tell you that all of the story is true the same way that I can tell you that the All Father exists. You of all people...or angels should be able to believe as well."


    "Hmm" Isolde hummed, "you''re right, I shouldn''t be skeptical." Is?lde''s body language showing she was having some issue believing the tale, "But I have never heard of a human defeating a lesser demon, let alone a regular demon."


    "So..." Magnus questioned, eyebrows giving a raise, "you know of all the people over all of the world?"


    Isolde smirked at him, "No, you have me there, I have not met all the humans of this world.  But, among angels and demons, if things like this happen, I would think that I would hear about it. Angels are like hens...or nosy aunt – there aren''t really any secrets in a small village."


    "Maybe your family isn''t as tight as you think they are. Only recently, maybe ten years ago, my father killed a demon – it had killed my grandfather, stabbed him in the back during a raid. I don''t know if it was what you call a demon or a lesser demon. What is the difference?"


    "A demon, just a demon, is an angel that has been cast out of heaven. Their eyes are almost all black, just a little of their whites can be seen. There is a black smokey aura that burns around their body. Angels and some humans can just see it against a light surface, otherwise you miss it. Demons normally take over the bodies of humans who don''t have a conscience – those people who lack empathy and enjoy hurting people. Something about these humans leaves a "gate" open for demons. The demon voices though, that is what really gives them away. When they talk, their voices are silky smooth, like a snake oil salesman-all.


    Now, the smooth-talking demons – they are what create the lesser demon. Lesser demons are humans that usually trade their soul for something of value, something of benefit to the human. Power, long life, money... usually something selfish. Their eyes have the whites, but there is no pupil and color, just all black in the middle. The voice of the lesser demon though, it sounds painful when they talk. It''s like they have some sort of sore throat that holds back their voices. The humans that trade their soul, they are typically weak of body with evil intent...they need power to back it up.


    The last type, the most powerful – the greater demons. These are archangels who were cast out of heaven. You won''t see them anywhere around. They live in the pits of hell with Lucifer. If they come to earth – they possess people. These are the same type of people who would sell their souls...except they usually have power already but are much more ambitious...and usually psychotic. Murderer''s, evil kings or queens – often crazy humans with a pension for evil who have power over others. They are bad news. There have been entire civilizations wiped out by a greater demon who possessed the right human. Atlantis...the peak of civilization during their time – wiped out by a greater demon who possessed the Atlantean king''s psychotic brother. That was too bad, such great people – although extremely arrogant. As far as the voice goes, no one know if it is an indicator, as no one has lived to know what it sounds like – the demon has either left, or, those in the know were all killed."


    "Hmmm..." Magnus responded, not even phased by the descriptions he just heard, "I think my father killed a demon, uncles didn''t mention anything about a painful sounding voice on that fella''. I think that would have stood out. Anyway – when my father Erik, saw his father killed by a cowardly stab to the back, he lost his mind - literally. Went full berserker, he did. The stories told by his men had him frothing at the mouth, unable to speak – some men swore there was a fiery halo hanging over his head. They say the demon began to speak – maybe asking for single combat like some of the other stories have told, now that I think about it – but Erik did not even let him form a second word as he struck with his great axe, splitting him diagonally from hip to shoulder, nearly cleaved the demon in two. He was so distraught he proceeded to destroy all of the remaining enemies from the other village – demon, lesser demon, or just a man.


    He was never the same after that. No more raids, no fighting - he went up to live with the monks for a few years; we rarely saw him. When he finally did come home for good, he went straight to the boat yards and began building, every day, just building boats. When I was old enough to swing a hammer, he brought me to the yard too, and every day we just worked on boats.


    He did not discourage me from learning how to fight from my uncles, but he never gave me his blessing either. Mother kept me from fretting – she told me that his NOT dissuading me from fighting was as close to getting his blessing to fight, that I would ever get. That last battle where he lost his father had broken him, but the brothers at the monastery were able to help him get past the hardest healing.


    Anyway, that is a story for another day. What do you say about going back to camp for some dinner? It should be getting close to time."


    Is?lde stood up and stretched, "That sounds like fun, maybe a bit interesting. Just so you know, I don''t eat for the same reasons you do, I like the taste of food, but  don''t need to eat. I''ll like to see how your food compares to the Sumerians, or the Egyptians. Now Egypt, there are some tasty morsels."


    The pair stepped out of the little hut, Magnus shouted down to the boat yard, "You guys head up to the longhouse for dinner when it''s time. My new friend, Is?lde, and myself are heading up now." The crew leads gave him affirmative nods, and Magnus began leading up to the longhouse.


    "So", Isolde said questioningly "when did your grandfather return to the village, how long were they away?"


    "He and the explorers were there for many years, maybe six...or seven just in Byzantium. There were many months of travel in just creating those trade partners that we still have today, many decades of good partnerships.


    Bj?rn and the other two smiths from the village worked with the Byzantium craftsmen. They learned about crucible steel and the benefit of adding other metals in the correct amounts, to make a much higher quality steel. This is the main reason our tools and boats are so highly desired – steel is the key.


    Being in the center of so many cultures, they were also introduced to many types of other weapons and armor they had never seen– most of them were specific to the culture and terrain of the people who used it. Back home, when they finally made it back, Bj?rn began to unleash his creative imagination and developed many of the special tools, armor and weapons we use today. He encouraged his people to take his designs and make them better. Nearly all of his creations have been modified – made better than he would have even thought."


    Magnus continued pleasantly, enjoying regaling Is?lde with the history of his family, "Ragnold and the other warriors were paid by the king to fight the enemies of the crown, Heraclius I, from Constantinople. The king sent the Vikings to worst places possible, always to the places that were close to getting conquered – they were deemed expendable – but they were never defeated. Rognald and Felix always came out on top. Even though their battle prowess could not be surpassed, the duo never underestimated the enemy, even learning things from their enemy to use against them. So, not just tools and weapons were improved, but battle tactics strategies as well.


    The warriors made a king''s ransom from the ruler of Constantinople. Every time they threatened to leave, Heraclius would heap gold and weapons on them to encourage them to stay. They were so well known in the years just before they did leave, Viking or none, anyone who showed up on the king''s side for battle, dressed in the colors of Rognald, the enemy would simply flee. I am sure the king was able to use that ploy for at least a couple of years after Bj?rn and Rognald left, before the easterners caught on."


    Is?lde cut in, "I''ve spent time in the middle east – your Bj?rn and Rognald are nothing short of amazing. Easterners can be very hard to get along with. I am very impressed with those boys. But, as you know, once you are in with them, you are in forever so long as you don''t disgrace them. How are the other trade partners doing?"


    "Bj?rn established many partners that we still maintain today, along the Elbe River from Constantinople to Elg Hjem. Not just trade, mind you, we lend money in the larger trading cities. We also buy slaves in order to set them free or bring them north to be part of the family. Our village is very well known throughout the north and the east – for many reasons."


    "So", Is?lde questioned, "how do you keep people honest and protect your assets from bandits? How do you get the money back to the village – I have so many questions about your system. I know people, most are only honest to a certain point. Not just your people that lend money and such maybe skimming off the top, but it''s easy for magistrates, sheriffs, or mayors see your profit, and demand unfair taxes tribute."


    "We did of course, deal with some rough times. Now we trade post managers out yearly. We send several longboats south with warriors and new post managers, to take the place of the previous year''s post managers. We share the burden of being away, while at the same time trying and keep people from becoming corrupted with too much wealth or responsibility at their sole hands. We keep garrisons of our own warriors in several of the popular trading towns. They are there to deter black mail and keep people from stealing our interests. In return, we assist local magistrates or sheriffs with problems too large for them to handle. It keeps a semblance of security amongst our holdings and the garrisons are close enough together, in the event a sheriff or magistrate gets brave enough to think they could take from us, we are close enough to respond with additional Vikings."


    Is?lde was genuinely amazed, "You guys really have this together. You have a huge distribution ring and maintain command and control over thousands of miles. This is truly amazing."


    "Well, "Magnus responded, "we did have some problems, but Bj?rn had trust and faith in the All Father. He spoke often with the All Father asking for guidance in order to maintain control. It''s hard to explain, but we just know who to send and when. Our post managers and garrison commanders seem to always know when something wrong is on the winds – and they are ready for whatever it is. We have certain things that we support, for the All Father, with our money. We free slaves and assist villages that need it, without asking for anything in return, because it''s the right thing to do. The All Father returns our kindness. It is the benefit of believing, it''s like a supernatural sixth sense."


    "My friend" Is?lde piped up, "you guys are absolutely amazing! Ooh, is that the longhouse?"


    "Yes, yes - here we are." Magnus grabbed Is?lde''s hand and pulled her down the large side street, passed the shops and houses, ignoring the confused stares of his people. "You are going to love this. We have the largest longhouse of all the clans. We love to feast and dance. We wanted to make sure there was room for the entire village. It just so happens we are having a feast, and you are here to enjoy it. Come, come..." Magnus called as he was dragging Is?lde with him.


    "Stop Magnus" an authoritative female voice grumbled, "Just because you''re the Jarl, doesn''t mean you get to go into the feast early. You have to wait, just like everyone else."


    Magnus looked down, to see Hilde - her right index finger jammed into his chest, right in his diaphragm. "Hilde" Magnus grinned, "I have a special guest I need to show around before the feasting starts. I won''t be able to keep her safe from the hens and show her around if I wait – please let me take her now. I promise I won''t sample the feastings...too much." He smiled lovingly at her, "Besides auntie, who loves you the most, huh?" and pulled her into a caring bear/bull hug, placing his chin on her head.


    "Okay you giant brute, you do love me the most. BUT don''t put your fingers in the desserts – unless you clean up well. Wash your friend up too, I don''t know where her fingers have been either." She pushed back from Magnus and as she turned away, she shot a wink at Is?lde. The pair kept walking toward the longhouse, Magnus excited to show Is?lde the village crown jewel.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    They approached the front of the longhouse, Is?lde could see it was twice again as long as it was wide, and as tall as four of five men – gigantic for Vikings. The front doors were sturdy on silent hinges when Magnus pulled them open. As the pair entered, she noticed the interior was surprisingly bright – at that moment, Isolde felt as if she had been transported to an emperor''s palace in the middle east. There were imported oil lamps built on to the roof support columns, straight out of the Byzantine empire. They each had clear glass shrouds that split the lantern light, making them more efficient. Mirrors on the back walls reflected light back to the center, and more lanterns adorned the three chandeliers that hung overhead along the length of the longhouse. Mildly stunned, Is?lde let out a small breath, "Magnus – you guys are amazing. This is beautiful." Still grinning, Magnus replied, "Thank you. Our village has worked on this for many generations. Our trade with Constantinople has allowed us many inventions that we have not shared with others – yet. We like to keep our edge; it reminds those others that we have knowledge unknown to them. It makes arrogant Jarls take a second though about raiding our village.


    Okay, let''s keep going. The blue, black, and white fabrics are hung on the wall and the tops of the columns to keep the echo down while we sing and dance. See how the centers of the outside walls fold down – this is where we put the food when we feast. Now, the two banquet tables are set just far enough apart to allow two people to pass each other if needed. We also separated them, so you can pass from side to side without having to walk all the way to either end."


    "Umm", Is?lde pondered, "where is the big fire pit that most longhouse have?  Isn''t that a normal thing to have?"


    "Normal longhouses have them because they don''t have what we have – let''s go back there" as he nodded his head to the far back wall. "The stone wall here, is actually the chimney and the back of the ovens that are used in the kitchen. The stones stay hot for a very long time, which keeps this end of the hall the warmest – the guests and lamps keep the rest of the hall warm enough for everyone else. Also, our village shares smaller longhouse with each other – we don''t all sleep here. It is dangerous, we could potentially lose almost all of the village if someone decides to bar the doors and set us on fire. Okay, that is a topic for another day. Let''s see the kitchen."


    Magnus took Is?lde to the right side of the large chimney and into the kitchen. The main thing that stood out to her, was the impressive amount of steel cook tops that these Vikings utilized. Stone and mortar firepits had the giant steel plates over the tops of them, where men and women could cook all manner of meat and vegetables. The ovens were filled with breads, pastries – they were large enough to bake the quantities needed to feed the village.


    "Is?lde, you can see how the food starts in the middle there, with the hottest fires for baking and meat preparation. As the hearths move to everyone''s right, the fires are reduced in temperature to make vegetables and keep cooked food warm, to then move it easily out into the sitting area. The idea was brought back a few generations ago from the emperor of the Byzantine at the time – one of the greatest entertainers of the world.


    What do you think? Do you have any questions?"


    Is?lde looked around the kitchen for a minute, "Magnus your people are just ingenious. I can truly appreciate what you have done. I can''t wait to try some of this amazing looking food."


    The pair was standing close to the ovens, as well as the food getting ready to be put out for the guests – and nobody was looking at Jarl Magnus. He discreetly tugged her hand moving back out the way as he palmed a couple of berry filled pastries on their way out. Moving just out of sight of the kitchen, handed one to Is?lde and took a big bite of one for himself, looking her in the eye awaiting her reaction. Is?lde took a bite and closed her eyes, savoring the taste of the sweet treat. She chewed slowly and finished the last of the crumbs. Having nothing else on hand, she grabbed the apron attached to her skirt and gently wiped the crumbs from her lips, and offered it to Magnus, as he clearly needed it. He chuckled lightly and wiped his face.


    "We are early, let''s go back out and close the doors – I need to set a good example as Hilde pointed out. The village will begin arriving soon and it''s my duty to welcome them all. We can talk some more about what you are actually doing here, later." Magnus gently took Is?lde''s hand and led her back outside, to the front of the longhouse, closed the doors, and sat down at one of the benches lining the road to the building.


    "So," Magnus started "I know about Demons, but more clearly now. I have met an angel of the Allfather, so I just have to wonder what else is out in the world that I have heard about, but thought was a tale...?" his tone indicating his longing question.


    Is?lde pursed her lips before starting to answer, "Pretty much everything you have ever heard of; faeries, dwarves, vampyr, werewolves, witches – even other so-called gods, but with the lower case "g" ...are all based in some sort of truth, and they exist in one way or another. The Allfather has more than one story and has been around for eternity, humans have a limited understanding of their surroundings, but with your short life spans you can''t be expected to keep it all strait. The Allfather adapted his creations – human and non-human – to fit these limitations in understanding.


    Beings have existed for so many eons, and before the Allfather walked the world as Christ, humans and angels lived together. Angels were initially on earth to protect humans from the fallen. But the sneaky nature of the fallen made it extremely hard for angels to protect all humanity – so of course demons took advantage of the humans, spawning pretty much all of the non-human ''beings'' that you know of in this day.


    Now, this is heavily debated among those who are in the know, but the Allfather eventually tired of the fallen mixing the blood of former angels and humans, which was spawning non-human offspring – so he sent the fallen to the pit and took all the angels'' home. As I am sure you know, there are Nephilim that were the offspring of angels and humans, so not all angels are innocent either. The debate though, is, did the Allfather allow the creation of the non-humans or did the fallen do this without him ''knowing''... anyway, all of the non-humans were offspring of fallen angels and humans. When angels fell and became demons, their nature changed therefore changing the nature of the offspring – they were NOT ''normal'' Nephilim.


    Anyway, yes – all of the ''supernatural'' beings you have heard of do exist. Through the years these creatures roamed freely causing much harm to people, often using their strength and power to enslave them, feed on them, or use them like humans used animals. Humans always rose up and took down their harsh masters. Many millennia of confrontation have set fear into the human psyche, making it almost instinctual to destroy anything they don''t understand. This is why we don''t see the supernatural''s in the open today, they have been hunted to near extinction."


    Magnus rubbed his head with both hands, "Deep in my mind I thought that would be your answer, but I really hoped it wouldn''t be true. Obviously, we don''t have any problems around here – I have never heard any stories of shape shifters or blood suckers. On a rare occasion, a hunter has come home talking about faeries or gnomes, but the village is apt to blame them for eating strange mushrooms or other foods that caused them to hallucinate.  I will have to consult the counsel and see when the last time a story was told about them.


    Well, it looks like you will get to tell me why you are really here another time – here come our first guests." Magnus stood up and moved to the large barn doors, currently sealing off the longhouse. He grabbed them both, tugging backwards and letting them move outwards. His massive strength heaving them away from the opening, silently, to have the snap into the ingenious steel brackets that would hold them open until they needed to be closed. Magnus turned around, his solid arms opened wide and a huge grin on his face, "Welcome friends" he boomed, "come and be seated, the Allfather and I welcome you with open arms and the peace of Christ to the home and hearth of the place you helped to create!"


    Summer Feast


    It did not take that long for the villagers to arrive and fill the longhouse – it was like church; everyone has their seats; they just have to plant their butts in the right spot. In order to avoid overcrowding the walkways, each family had one or two people to assist in getting horns of mead and water, while everyone else moved through the food line - in typical Elg Hjem fashion...engineered ''eating'' just like everything in the village. They loved efficiency, especially when it meant they could eat sooner than later. Along with eating, there was much banter, back slapping, and hugging as the people gathered from all corners of the village to drink and celebrate.


    Jarl Magnus, by tradition, was the first one to receive his horn of mead, but the last one to get his food. It was the Jarl''s traditional responsibility to ensure all the families were fed – even though there was clearly enough food on this day, this was not always the case, therefore the tradition is always observed.


    Magnus''s large chair sat on a slightly elevated platform, positioned at the halfway point of the long banquet tables. Some Jarls proclaimed they sat upon a throne in their longhouses, but these people refused to use that term. The Jarl of Elg Hjem was one of the people, he or she was not the king, or the ruler; their Jarl was one of the people who worked, bled, and sometimes died along them in order to protect them. The platform and chair only elevated the Jarl because it was easier to speak to all the people.


    Is?lde sat on a padded chair to Magnus''s left, observing the activity. In turn, quite a bit of the commotion was the folk, observing Is?lde. She sat quietly with her own horn of mead and a good natured, friendly smile adorning her face. The smells of the kitchen mixed with the smells of the hard-working family of villagers, made her appreciate the type of loving and respectful nature of these people. Jarl Magnus was jovially bantering with anyone who would listen to his words, everyone was listening - he was a highly respected and beloved leader of these people.


    In much less time than Is?lde would have guessed, Hilde had brought a wooden plate of food to her and instructed Magnus to "get your ass over there and get some food so we can eat". He stepped down from the platform and gently spun Hilde to face him, reached under her armpits, held up and out just a bit from himself, then dropped her into bear hug and spun with her – legs swinging out by the force – and screaming for dear life. Magnus stopped after two revolutions and set her down facing the village. He placed his arm across her small but strong shoulders, "Listen up people" Magnus shouted over the din of conversation, "Let us shout Skald to the flawless engineer of feasting and revelry...skald to Hilde. One – two – three -Skald to Hilde!" He raised her left hand in his right, along with his left in a show of triumph. He looked over the crowd, and nearly the entire village shared the same pose. He dropped his hands, still holding Hilde''s, he turned to her seeing her flushed cheeks, dropped her hand and pulled her into a gentle embrace. He whispered into her ear, "Thank you Auntie, all silliness aside – I miss father too. He will come back one day, until then, thank you for blessing us with your gifts. You make all of us feel like we are home."


    Magnus turned back toward the tables, and gently pushed Hilde in front of him, toward food, "You know I eat last, and I know you haven''t eaten yet." The pair walked toward the food as Is?lde lightly grazed over her own, impressed at the feeling of family camaraderie the was thick in the air. In most other villages, the warriors would have come to the feast drunk and started to fight almost as soon as they entered the doors. The Odinsson village was happy without the compromise of copious amounts of alcohol.


    Magnus ate his food quickly – he was in a hurry for some reason that Is?lde could not quite understand... yet. He set his ceramic plate down on the dais and stepped off of it. Just to his right she noticed a beautiful brass gong she hadn''t seen before. Magnus grabbed the mallet hanging off of the stand – it was covered in the same blue, black, and white cloth as the rest of the interior. He pulled his hand back and gently but forcefully struck the gong one time directly in the center. Less than two heartbeats later the entire longhouse was as silent as a graveyard on a Sunday night. All eyes were on Magnus as he stepped up on the dais of his chair, but he did not sit down.


    His eyes passed back and forth over villagers. His hands were clasped in front of him, fingers intertwined just below his leather belt. The look on his face did not betray anything – no joy, anger, or sadness – he was the perfect visage of absolute impassivity. His voice boomed powerfully throughout the longhouse, "I know that by now, you have all heard of my – our... run in with Jarl Sigurd''s men early this afternoon. Sigurd''s men were trying to force us into making his boat out of turn...first by trying to convince me that Sigurd is somehow better than everyone else, then for the second insult – those men thought to threaten my family - you. Well, in order to keep Airica Leifsdotter from outright killing them for that trespass, I immediately knocked them unconscious." As Magnus finished his sentence, he was looking across the aisle at a well-built brunet who looked, on one hand, irritated to be in her skirt – and, on the other hand, a large grin on her face. He continued, "Sigurds three men were doused in salt water and either dragged or stumbled to the edge of village, then given a boot to the arse. Some of Tor''s scouts watched them leave from the treetops, making sure they actually left our land, no double cross. They even dropped their weapons in the spot where their boat had been – knowing if they return to the same spot, their clan mates will probably find the discarded weapons. Should be fairly uncomfortable for somebody.


    What say you family – how is this for fortune?" The village erupted in a cheer...completely not what Is?lde thought should be going on. She looked up at Magnus who noticed her and shot her a wink. "Sigurd Halfdan and Leif''s sons are here...did you know that?" He shouted over the dull cheer that turned into a big cheer. Is?lde was obviously missing something, just like Magnus said she was. "We have two days to prepare, and one more day before Sigurd, more than likely, show up with his men. I have the feeling that he will bring all of his warriors, but he won''t have enough time to pull in his vassals from the outlying villages. He will probably have one hundred, maybe – maybe, one hundred and fifty seasoned fighters. I think this will be easier than we originally thought.


    Tor, have your scouts set up the archery warning system and have the archers in place by the morning of day three. I think we should prep oil and lard to torch half of his boats while they are fighting us. Teach them to mess with their betters...especially when they know they should leave us alone." The crowd was still shouting jovially and talking excitedly among themselves.


    Magnus continued, "Aivar, the eve of day two after most go to bed, uncover the pit and post guards to nobody sleepwalks into it. Also, that eve – Airica, make sure the blunt shooters are set up. If for some reason Sigurd gets here early day three, or for some reason they don''t beach at the same spot, we don''t want to be surprised." The room began to chatter with some excitement, "HEY!!" Magnus bellowed, and the revelers quieted down, "The rest of you, dust off your hammers and prep your bows. We don''t want to kill anyone – we are just going to give them all incredible headaches...and a ship load of broken bones – woop!! Okay, serious talk is done, we are taking tomorrow off from work – finish the feast, let''s dance!"