The Skabelse

Guess

When they arrived, the two Gladeswomen made their way to the river with the fellow Daughters and began preparing their food. Rowan stood into eh slow flowing river up to her ankles, thankful for her water resistant boots, and brushed her mare. She wondered how her open was faring at the Skabelse and hoped she was being taken care of.

Thoughts of the encampment made her thoughts trickle to Darsa and Tursa as she wondered how their pregnancies were faring. She knew their bellies would not be swollen yet, but still imagined them to be showing in her mind as the thought made her happy. She then looked down to her own stomach and wondered if she would soon be carrying Bjorn's child from their intimate night.

Suddenly, a splash of frigid water on her back brought her from her thoughts and she whipped her head around and scowled. Bjorn stood to the edge, whistling a merry tune and looking up at the sky.

"How old are you, twelve? Act your age Prince of Rorik," she spat playfully, then kicked some water up with her boot at him.

"Hey! I didn't get you that bad..." he complained, looking down at his soaked clothing.

"Maybe that will serve as a lesson when it comes to messing with me," she said, turning back and brushing her horse. She heard his feet trample into the water so she wasn't sure why she was surprised when she heard him laugh close behind her in her ear, causing her to jump.

His breath was hot and felt nice as the cold air bit at her skin and she shivered. As he rested his hands on her shoulders she founder herself forgetting about her horse and leaned back into his body. "I was never any good when it came to learning lessons. Just ask the teacher back in Rorik, Vestra."

She smirked to herself even though she knew he couldn't see it and let out a huff of air. "Come to the Glade then, give it a week and you'd learn many lessons. Perhaps even some manners," she teased.

Bjorn chuckled deeply and kissed the back of her neck, "I've missed you. It's a shame we cannot ride together," he said as Rowan turned around. He then shrugged and wagged his eyebrows, "At least you will accompany me in my tent, yes?"

Rowan blushed and playfully pushed him away, almost causing him to trip over a large rock that was hidden under the murky water. She threw her head back in laughter, then again when Bjorn gave her an exaggerated bow and a "Farewell mi' lady."

After she ate and relieved herself, the army set out once more for the Vernanda woodlands with women of Morrstick leading, followed by the Gladeswomen, then men of Loria, the Bluegardes, the Starkes, the High Palace's soilders, the women of Wayland Wood, and the Roriks, and finally the men from Olandry.

It had taken them three hours to reach the thriving and succulent woods and Rowan felt relieved as she realized that soon she would be able to rest.

Once the sun had set, King Olfriq decided that it would be a good place settle down for the night to which everyone agreed.

Rowan let out a sigh of relief and jumped of her horse and made haste of readying her tent as the sun set. Soon, as darkness fell, tents littered the forest floor and it wasn't long before the Bluegardes whipped out bottles of spirits and mead as the chilly evening air settled in.

The sound of chatter and a few tunes as one of Caspian's men sang filled the air and Rowan relaxed by one of the many fires when Bjorn joined her along with Hvitserk and Leif.

"Good evening princess," Leif greeted, sipping from a flask that he brought.

Rowan smiled and motioned to the metal canteen, "Do you always drink before a battle?" She couldn't imagine feeling hungover in the morning or allowing anything to cloud her mind when she needed to focus the most.

Hvitserk let out a chortle as he snagged off a piece of his jerky that one of the maids had given him, "He claims it settles his nerves but I think it's just an excuse so we wont look like a drunk."

Leif scowled and smacked the back of Hvitserk's head, messing up his hair but said nothing, earning a round of laughs from those who were watching.

After another hour had passed, many of the Bluegardes were drunk and almost half the camp had gone to bed.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom and probably to bed after," Bjorn said, stretching.

Rowan nodded and yawned, "I'll meet you in the tent," she said, then stood up and brushed herself off of the dirt and leafs from the forest floor.

"I'll come with you," Hvitserk said, then followed Bjorn into the dark woods.

The fires light was not able to reach this far, leaving them in almost pitch black darkness save for the small amount of light the crescent moon was able to give.

Laughter, chatter, and the distant sound of crickets drowned out any indication that the two Roriks were not alone. Bjorn stood a few feet away from Hvitserk and had just started fiddling with his trousers when a strong muscular arm came from behind him and cut off his air ways.

"Guess who?" a deep voice said as he dragged Bjorn away.