The Northlander. John E. Elias

immediately brought fresh coffee, breads, eggs and an assortment of breakfast meats and fresh fruits.

      When the princess and Björn finished eating, Aleanna asked him to go on to the stables and wait for her while she donned her riding apparel.

      When Björn arrived at the stables, there were two castle horses saddled and waiting. He wanted to take Jago out because he had been confined in the stable since their arrival, but would do as Aleanna wished. When she arrived, dressed in knee-high black boots, black trousers and a tan man’s shirt, she walked to the sleek gray mare. Stroking the mare’s neck, she said, “I selected this mare as my own because I was there at her birth.”

      Jago’s head was reaching out over the stable gates. Björn took the reins of the horse the stable boy had selected for him to ride and finally, with an apologetic tone asked, “Can Jago come with us? I mentioned before how he hates to be confined.”

      Aleanna, with true understanding, said, “Yes, of course. I am sure you would prefer to give him some freedom. You may ride your own horse if you like.”

      Björn answered, “No. I rarely ride Jago; he prefers to walk beside me.”

      Björn and Aleanna rode out side by side, and she began pointing out distinct things about the village as they rode into the countryside. Small unique homes and outbuildings dotted the landscape, with wood and stone fencing marking off homesteads and pastures.

      After they rode a small distance, Björn stopped and turned back to study the castle.

      “Is there something wrong?” Aleanna followed his gaze, as if expecting to see some attacker coming at them.

      “No, nothing is wrong,” Björn answered, “I was noting how similar Kallthom Castle is to others I have seen. Almost all of the defenses are at the front of the castle where the rolling land comes up from the plains. There are few defense areas at the back of the castle. Your father counts on those rough hills to keep it protected. If I were to attack your castle, I would feint at the front, but send my major forces around and attack from the back.”

      In a worried tone, Aleanna asked, “Do you really believe an army could get close enough to the castle to attack from the rear undetected?”

      Björn didn’t want to cause her anxiety but felt compelled to reply. “By moving at night and with the distraction of a fake attack from the front, I think it is very possible.”

      “I will definitely tell my father of this possibility,” she said, “but, as usual, I doubt he will listen.”

      As they continued their leisurely ride through the countryside, Aleanna pointed out the numerous small hamlets, where small stores, sawmills and other businesses provided inhabitants with jobs and made the hamlets as self-sufficient as possible. She explained that the people were all free to own their own land, as long as they paid their taxes and served in the Kallthom army when necessary. She explained that the kingdom’s inhabitants had the usual complaints, but she thought, in general, that they were a fairly happy and contented community.

      As they passed through one small hamlet, a handsome young man at the sawmill gave Aleanna a big smile and a knowing wink. Blushing, she tried to avoid his glance, remembering an afternoon when the two of them rolled in the hay in the young man’s family barn. She knew Björn was probably a man who rarely missed anything, and she was sure he noticed the byplay between the two of them. Her cheeks colored even more at what he must be thinking. Here she barely knew the man and he was assuming a place of importance in her thoughts.

      The riders and Jago topped a hill that provided a back view to the castle and a forward view of the hamlets upcoming. As they paused to enjoy the view, Aleanna asked, “Why did you leave your home in the Northland?”

      Björn hesitated a moment before replying. “I had no real home there. The land is hard and unforgiving, and the soil is poor for growing food and crops. The land can only provide for a certain number of people, so some of us must go and make our way in other lands. I am only one of many who left.”

      “Why does a man become a mercenary?” she asked.

      “When we leave the Northland, we are highly skilled warriors, as you saw. I am as equally skilled with a bow as with a sword. It is the most appropriate occupation available to us.”

      “But I have heard such horrible things about mercenaries.”

      Björn looked into her eyes for such a long moment that she became uncomfortable. Finally, he looked away and answered, “It is a profession for honorable individuals. Mercenaries are in great need, but there are too few honorable ones. I consider myself a mercenary who behaves honorably.”

      Considering his reply, she ventured on, “You must lead a very exciting life.”

      Taking some time again to think on her statement, Björn said, “For the most part, it is not so exciting. There are times of battle and fighting, but they are few and far between. Most of it is rather boring.”

      “Well, if it is so boring,” she uttered with amazement, “why do you do it?”

      “Oh,” he said with a half-smile, “There is some excitement, it pays well, and I am very good at it, but it is not as adventuresome as you would think.” He turned to face her squarely. “But what about you, Princess? As I told you before, you are not what I expected.”

      Demurely lowering her eyes, she asked, “And how am I so different?” She raised her eyes to meet his.

      “I do not know.” He gazed at her intently, and she was caught up in his look. “I thought that a young princess with numerous servants to attend her every need would not be quite like you. You do so many things for yourself. Most surprising is the way you ride.” He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, so he averted his eyes and looked out over the castle lands. “You are truly an excellent horsewoman and you carry a sword and bow. While I have not observed your use of these weapons, you are obviously no stranger to them. I did not expect the daughter of a king to be a woman warrior!”

      “Of course you know,” she said, “my mother died when I was born. I was wet-nursed by a servant and she lovingly mothered me until I could walk. My father did not know much about raising a girl. I tagged along after him and Rathe until they got so tired of me falling off horses and cutting myself on the weapons that they began teaching me how to ride and use the sword.” She laughed. “It was much more fun than doing women’s things!”

      Björn asked, “Does he let you go into battle?”

      “We have not had any real battles since I was born. There are skirmishes in the countryside occasionally, but no real fighting. If there was a battle, I am sure the old fogies would try to keep me out of it,” she teased, tossing her head and sending her black hair flying. “What do you think of women fighting?”

      Björn hesitated. “For my people, there are no distinctions made between men and women when it comes to fighting. I have been among other people of other lands where it is also common. In most countries, though, the men go out fighting and hunting while the women stay home cooking and having babies.”

      “The women of Kallthom stay home cooking and having babies. But that is not for me,” Aleanna said forcefully. “What about those lands where the women fight? Who looks after the children?”

      “The old men and women. They also do the cooking and cleaning. In these cultures, the women are treated equal to the men.”

      “How about other cultures?”

      “I guess they are pretty much like they are here.”

      “You mean the man is the boss and takes a switch to the woman’s backside if she does not do what he says.”

      “I am afraid that is the way it is.”

      They were quiet for a bit as they walked their horses, but Björn had to ask, “If you will pardon me for asking, why are you marrying an old man?”

      “You have to understand that Delph is constantly