A personal challenge

Well things have slowed a little this month at Zatobo, with the programmer having other commitments for several weeks, and the business guy out of the country, the decision was taken to halt development work for two months.

Of course I am sad not to be hurtling forward with our new project(s), but the big upside is that I can get back to working on the book full time for that period. My plan is basically to undertake the National Novel Writing Month (but in September), and challenge myself to write 50,000 words, and hopefully bring Vinland to a conclusion in the process.

Things have been fairly slow so far (but then for me, the beginning always is) as I try to dive back into the fascinating world of the Vikings. Thankfully my reams of notes have served me well in reminding me just what was happening, and what is to be occur in the future. The book is currently in two parts, the early stuff in Greenland and then their sailing to Vinland without anything really connecting the two events. My ambition therefore is to fill this in, introducing another character or two and filling those who already exist in.

Throughout work on Vinland, there has always been one major antagonist, but without spoiling too much, they are at some distance to events directly going on with the people in Vinland. I have therefore created another character (or rather re-written one) to full fill a more direct conflict with Leif and his crew who I hope will spice things up rather more. It’s been a while since I have shown things off, so here is a little slip that I have recently been working on. Please bear in mind that this is still very much a part of the manuscript and as such has not been treated with the spit and polish of a published work;

“Citizens of Hvalsey!” Thorstein began, a warm smile on his face which Iva immediately hated.

“I come here before you today, not to complain about injuries received during my duties as an enforcer of peace in the town, but rather to ensure that this man is never again allowed to perpetrate such violence. I am a fighter, a man well used to taking blows from my foes, but next time we may not be so lucky. Imagine, if then it was your wife, or your son, or even gods be so cruel, your daughter.” As he said this, Iva noticed her father sitting on the other side of the room, watching the proceedings with a frown on his face. He was so intent on the words of the young noble, that she was sure he had no idea that she was present.

“My mother and I were doing our rounds of the town, but hearing a commotion in Gorran’s home decided to investigate. On arrival, we encountered a brawl going on between two strangers to the town. We managed to stop this in short order, and determined that the cause had been women, not just any women but a mere thrall and a wayward girl.”Again Iva looked over to her father, and saw that now his fists were balled up, and a vein was throbbing in his neck. Clearly he had understood whom Thorstein was talking about.

“I am sorry to inform you all that this girl, a daughter of Hvalsey no less, was the spark that caused an argument to descend into violence, with her misguided attack on our guest...” Iva tried to shrink further into the shadows, but it seemed that still no one had noticed her, all were intent on Thorstein’s words. She observed however that Thjodhilde threw her another glance from her place at the table, but she made no indication that she had recognised the young woman. While she was watching Thjodhilde, she felt another pair of eyes on her, and looking up the table saw Gorran was also watching at her, and as their eyes met, his widened in recognition. Meanwhile Thorstein had continued his speech.

“Perhaps we are wrong to lament so about her actions however. How can we hope to protect the young when there are all these foreign interferences coming to Greenland, there seem to be more strangers in town at the moment than citizens, and this my friends worries me greatly.” Thorstein said, beginning to pace in front of the table, using his hands to articulate his points. He had dressed this up in such a way that the audience failed to realise that he was of the same age as the girl he was chastising. At these words, the massive thrall lifted his head to regard his accuser, moving for the first time.

“It is not on this lady’s misdeeds however, that we are here in deliberation about, but rather on the aftermath of her actions. I was busily restraining her, prepared to make her put things right like a good citizen of this fair settlement should, when this barbarian launched himself from the shadows and went at me like a savage animal.” Thorstein observed, watching as the captive began to struggle against his bonds, clearly becoming more agitated. From the audience there were a number of jeers, which only incensed the thrall more, much to Thorstein’s obvious satisfaction.

“With such influences as this, how can we expect better from our children? It is clear that this creature here before us has no morals, no conception of good or evil. He is an animal and deserves to be treated as such. When a dog bites its owner, we put it down, and so it should be here. Put this mad beast down!”Thorstein instructed.

The thrall began making moaning sounds, his jaw working furiously but unable to make any comprehensible sound. The attempt just made the calls from the crowd worse, a sentiment that Thorstein was quick to seize upon.

“Rruf! Down boy!” he called out, making a growling noise and snapping his teeth together like the jaws of a dog. The crowd responded wildly, many barking at the thrall, making him twist and bend with fury.

“And what if you kicked the dog, and it bit you then?” Leif interjected, rising from his place. Thorstein turned to face him, but said nothing. The thrall seemed to calm a little, but continued to make whimpering noises.

“On whom would the fault fall? Surely then, the dog has been provoked, and is only then acting in a manner that is natural. Are we so different? Many fights begin because one party feels threatened, can they then be held accountable for the attack? On whom does the blame lie?” he continued, rounding the table to join his brother. Iva raised her head on hearing this, pleased that the man was putting up such an eloquent defence.

“The blame brother, lies with the one to strikes first. Words are bandied around like ale, men like banter it keeps their minds sharp, but only rarely does it descend into violence as we are describing here.” Thorstein responded, clearly warming to the intellectual cut and thrust. Iva felt sickened, it was clear he was doing this for the sheer pleasure of watching his victim writhe. The difference between the brothers could not be more pronounced.

“You ask many questions brother, but answer few questions. Riddle me this; what separates us from the animals?” Thorstein continued, his smile still fixed, but the warmth in it was gone. When Leif did not immediately reply, he answered for himself.

“The difference, lies in that we can separate words and actions. You accuse me of being a liar...” Thorstein began, then seeing Leif was finally about to rally continued, purposefully cutting him off, holding his palms up to his brother.

“...yet here I stand, my hands are empty of weapons, neither have they formed a fist with which to strike you. You come before us to defend this animal, why? Can he not defend himself? Father said we were both to speak our parts, yet instead he struggles against his bonds. Is that the mark of a civilised person, or a beast? ” Thorstein exclaimed, his argument hammering home, his smile had faded, replaced by a look of expectation, smugness even. Leif remained silent, his face stony.

“Your arguments seem to claim that he was provoked to violence, why then did he not call out a warning first? Viking law states, does it not, that the difference between a sanctioned killing and that of murder is that a killing requires both parties to be willing combatants, on an equal footing when neither man’s back is turned. Otherwise, it is murder. Could we not apply the same logic to assault?” Thorstein continued to press his advantage. Turning, he had addressed Rhuntyr directly, as if to get confirmation. The lawspeaker was quiet for a while, considering the implications, and Iva watched the man closely, trying to read some kind of emotion from his flat face.

The room fell silent, waiting for the decision.

After a pause, he gave a nod. Iva felt her chest seize up at the judgement, knowing in her heart that the priest had just issued the brave thrall’s death warrant. The room erupted in shouts, men calling to their neighbours about the outcome, while others yelled for the slave’s head.

Leif, his face still like rock, walked down to the thrall and the voices in the room fell quiet, waiting to see what the heir would do. He crouched down in front of the German, and the slave raised his head to regard his defender. Iva could only imagine the anguish on the poor man’s face, and was touched to see Leif’s own cool exterior shed some of its ice at what he must have seen in the thrall’s eyes.

“Can you understand me?” he asked softly. The big man was still for a moment, then slowly inclined his head.

“I know you have a secret, it may save your life. Can I share it?” Leif continued, his voice still gentle.

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