Village

Village Part 7

Coast of Denmark 985 A.D.

Asger awoke in a mild panic. His dreams were of a tumultuous sea that was swallowing boats whole, people screaming in vain as they were sucked down into the cold deep. He had heard something outside. But perhaps it was a noise from his dreams or Ebba moving nearby. Hard to say in the ensuing silence.

He peered over at Ebba. She was awake.

"Did you hear that?" he whispered. The embers glowed softly in the corner and the small room was frigid.

Ebba shook her head yes without speaking. Asger quietly moved the pelts from atop them and crawled to his feet. The room was now almost completely dark from the lack of firelight. He knew the room well and could navigate it blind if need be, but now the shadows seemed to be hiding things. Perhaps Odin was displeased for some reason. Perhaps he had come to the small village in the form of this small girl to sweep them all into the sea. He had let nothing into their home, but he stared at the corners and under the stacked chests. He looked for movement in the darkness. A sign of the end.

Sword in hand, he walked toward the door. A small crackled escaped the fireplace as the last piece of whole wood crumbled into the dying embers. Ebba watched from her place beside their bed, cleaver in hand. Asger reached the door and surveyed his handiwork with the spikes. They were still in place and holding. He was surprised to see that one was driven to the hilt, deep in the timber. He had been in a heightened state the night before, his fearful but purposeful hands working hectically to shield Ebba and his child-to-be from this night terror, whatever it was.

They both listened in silence. Time passed slowly. The anticipation was agonizing for Ebba. She broke into tears again, silently.

Asger stood a few feet from the door, waiting; for what he did not know. It seemed that this thing could not come in unless they wanted it to. But while it could not come in, they could not leave. Asger thought of how much wood they had inside. Not much. And it was cold, very cold. He thought of how much food they had. Dried meat in the chest. Enough for a week if taken lightly. But the rest was in a small underground spot outside the cottage. It was salt packed and not just theirs, but belonged to several other villagers also.

And there were other necessities. How long would this carry on? Was this thing toying with them? Perhaps it could come in any time it liked. Perhaps it was just having a little fun with them. A game.

This angered Asger. He was frightened for Ebba. He had seen women with child become excitable and lose the baby. One woman bled to death in front of half the village. There was nothing they could do. Best to keep her calm.

A sound. A soft rapping. Coming from the door.

Asger and Ebba froze. Silence again. The noise had been so soft. Maybe their minds were playing tricks on them. Had they really heard anything? Was it the water?

They waited in silence again. Then the rapping again. Soft as snow falling against the door. Three or four times in succession. This time they knew it was real. Someone or something was knocking at the door. Asger tried to figure out where the tapping was coming from. Was it lower on the door? The height of the small girl? Was it higher?

The knock again. Louder this time. Then again. A little louder. Asger remained silent, but began thinking about the noise. It was starting to ring louder and louder in the night air. If it wasn't the girl, if it was some unlucky villager, it could very well bring the girl to them.

Rapping louder still. A full-fledged pounding.

"Who is there!" yelled Asger.

There was a muffled sound from the other side of the door.