The Castle People: Another Pennsylvania - 2, page 2
“I am so glad to see you, Philip,” she announced. “It seemed like you were gone for a lifetime.”
“And I am glad to see you, Revna. I always miss you when we are apart. But come, let’s get back to the castle. The men are tired from the trip.”
We walked arm-in-arm towards the village. As we passed the mill, I could hear the splashing around the water wheel and the rhythmic saw blade. The work had continued while we were gone, and I noticed several stacks of milled cedar stacked outside to dry. After the last Indian invasion burned the thatched roofs, the villagers were motivated to replace them with cedar shakes.
“We had our first harvest of vegetables,” Revna said, nodding to the field workers. “Peas and beans. We have had rain, and everything is growing well.”
“The barley and flax look good,” I commented.
“I think we will have another year of abundance.”
“And how is my wife?” I asked.
“Your wife is well,” she grinned. “The babe keeps me awake at night. He is lively.”
“He?”
“I think we will have a boy. I would like that.”
“As long as the child is healthy,” I replied. “We just have to trust in our God.”
“Of course. And some of the men have started attending my reading lessons.”
“That is interesting. What do they say about the Bible?”
“They are asking questions,” she said. “I did not know the answers to many of the things they said. I told them they should speak with you.”
“And will be happy to speak with them.”
“How did your throwing machine work?” she asked.
“It worked well until the gut-straps broke.”
“And did you fire the Indian village?”
I nodded. “It worked better than we hoped. I think their village burned to the ground.”
“Good. Perhaps they will leave us alone,” she asserted. “I do not know what was wrong with them.”
“I think I would have to go along with what the Kanosoni said. They are simply crazy.”
The Kanosoni were another tribe we had encountered. This group was friendly and happy to trade with us. When they visited, we exchanged some of our tools for the foodstuffs they carried. It seemed like everyone was delighted with the outcome, and I expected the relationship to continue.
When we entered the castle, she led me into the common room where the women were setting a feast on the table. It was a bit past lunchtime, and we were all ready to eat. It was a celebration as none of our warriors were killed or even injured, other than Birgir’s mishap with the catapult.
Revna prepared a platter for me as I sat at my assigned seat at the head of the table. It had slices of turkey, venison, and fish. The peas and beans were represented, as were some early carrots. The village women had begun brewing beer after last year’s barley harvest, but I had a mug of cold water before me. I didn’t like beer, which, as usual, the villagers found funny. But the meal was satisfying.
Following the meal, I remained at my place as several villagers waited to report to me. Joro, the sawyer, was first.
“What do you have, Joro?” I asked.
“While you were gone, we sawed five cedar trees and two oak.”
“Very good. Did you have any problems?”
He laughed. “We always have problems. The cedar is fairly soft. But running the oak through the mill is difficult. We have broken the walking beam twice.”
“Ouch,” I winced, “Is the blade still okay?”
“We must sharpen it repeatedly.”
I nodded. “Whenever we get enough iron, I want Bragi to make a round blade. It will work better, but it will also be more dangerous.”
“Why is that, Philip?”
“The edge of the spinning blade moves much faster than the long blade. If you get a hand or an arm in the way, the body part will be gone. And it would happen quickly. Also, if the blade shatters, you could be injured by the flying parts.”
“Then we must be careful,” Joro said.
I smiled at him. “Yes, we must. Rather, you must.”
Bragi was next. He laid a small dagger in front of me.
“What is this?” I asked.
“Take a close look.”
I picked it up and examined it. The metal was smooth and silvery. And it had a superb edge.
“Is this steel?”
He nodded. “Yes. I finally was able to collect enough from the smelting process.”
I studied the handle. It looked like a ruby was embedded in the hickory. But it was so smooth I could not feel the joint between the two materials.
“This is fine workmanship,” I said. “Did you do the handle?”
“No, actually, Dagny did it. She also did the leather sheath for it.”
He laid the sheath on the table. Once again, the workmanship was spectacular, I thought.
“Dagny has a gift,” I said. “This is amazing.”
“I think she is the best in the village at fine work like this.”
“It’s the best I’ve ever seen. I would like to reward her work. Maybe you could think about that and give me some suggestions. Oh, and the blade is fine.”
I studied it closely. “Is this Damascene?”
He nodded. During one of our conversations, I had explained to him about Damascene blades. Once again, he had taken an idea and run with it.
“Revna,” I leaned over to my wife. “Please bring a gold coin from my strongbox.”
“Of course, Philip.”
One of the items that had accompanied me on my trip to this world was a supply of gold coins. I had asked Grant to purchase them for me, and he gave them to me on the day of our hunting trip. Not wanting to leave them in the truck, I had carried them in my backpack. Ironically, they had proved useful.
Two minutes later, Revna was back in the room and handed me the tenth-ounce Krugerrand. I gave it to Bragi.
“This is for you, Bragi. You never ask for anything, and I want to reward you.”
The smith looked at me, speechless. He studied the coin in his hand and looked back at me. He bowed three times and backed out of the room. I grinned at Revna.
“I think he was impressed.”
“That was generous of you, Philip,” she replied.
“No, it was the least I could do for him. He is the most important man in the village.”
I received reports on the fields and the farming progress. Another group of villagers stayed busy digging coal out of the nearby hills. Bragi had managed to find some iron ore. I was not aware of ore deposits in this part of Pennsylvania, but apparently, there were some around. I wondered how far we would be able to advance our nascent civilization during my lifetime.
3
After the long hike and then a longer day catching up with needy villagers, I toppled into bed completely spent. Revna looked forward to bedtime since I had been gone for several days, but I think I fell asleep moments after pulling the linen coverlet up. It was warm overnight, so we didn’t need the fur blanket.
I awakened to her insistent shaking sometime in the depths of the night. As the village chief, I stayed alert to trouble, and the sleep fled immediately. Assuming she wanted attention, I rolled over and pulled her into my arms.
“No, no, Lackwit,” she exclaimed. “I think the baby is here.”
Any remaining tendrils of sleepiness were then blown out of my mind. I rolled out and climbed into my clothes in the dim light of a tallow candle we kept burning.
“I’ll go get Valdis,” I told her. “Do you need anything?”
She gritted her teeth. “No, just get back here quickly to hold my hand.”
“Right.”
As I hurried along the hallway, I met Valdis as she came up the stairs. Valdis was perhaps the oldest woman in the village. Her husband had died years before, and she hadn’t taken another. Unlike Mrs. Feather, for whom stocky was a mild adjective, Valdis was tall, thin, and wiry. Her iron-gray hair was tied back, and she was dressed in her buckskin daily wear.
“You are up already?” I asked.
“When you two went to bed last night, Revna had the look. I had thought to check on her, and so, here I am.”
I turned and walked back to our room with Valdis following.
Revna looked up when we returned to the room. “Oh, Valdis, thank you for coming so soon. I’m sure the baby is coming.”
“That’s what I am here for,” she turned to me. “Go collect as many candles as you are able. I will need as much light as we can find. Then you must make yourself scarce.”
“No,” Revna insisted. “Philip will stay here with me during the birthing process.”
To tell the truth, I was not anxious to attend the birth of my child. I was perfectly happy to wait outside and worry.
“That is not the way we do things here, Child.”
“I am not a child, Valdis. And this is the way we will do things.”
Valdis grumbled, but quickly got down to work. I trotted down the hall to find more candles. During the winter, the village women had boiled down deer tallow and poured it into whatever small containers they could find. Clay cups were pressed into use along with some four-inch trees, which were then sliced into five- or six-inch pucks and hollowed out.
I returned with several of the candles and helped Valdis arrange them so she could see. I retreated to the chair next to Revna’s head, where she grabbed my hand. I couldn’t see from there, and I didn’t want to see. I would have been happy if Valdis had insisted that I leave the room, except that Revna really wanted me there. And I didn’t want to deny her.
So, we settled into the birthing process. And nothing happened. Periodically, she would squeeze my hand as she experienced contractions. Eventually, I heard people moving around in the castle as the morning began. I was permitted a short respite to preside over the village breakfast. If I were at home, the people expected me to preside over the meals.
Afterwards, the villagers went about their business. They were bemused that I remained with Revna during the day. In this culture, people continued working and were surprised by a new child at the end of the day. I suppose that my culture had its influence. Revna had learned from me that fathers were often in the delivery room to witness the birth. She immediately decided that this was a great idea. Sometimes I talk too much.
It was consequently a long day for me, although not nearly so strenuous as Revna’s. Sometime in the middle of the afternoon, we were blessed with a squalling baby boy. We had agreed on a name, and she wanted to follow my customs. So rather than a single name, Grant Viggo Smart now honored my deceased friend, Grant, and Revna’s fiancé, who was out hunting and missed the translation of her village into this world, wherever it was.
She had cautioned me not to mention the name until the name-giving ceremony in nine days. Revna agreed with me that we would avoid the pagan prayers. But the name-giving would be an occasion for a feast in the village.
On this day, however, I escaped our room and walked over to the forge where Bragi was building a second furnace. He and I were serious about smelting whatever ore we could find, and this new furnace was our first attempt at scaling up the smithy. My goal was to refine enough iron to make a circular saw blade for the mill and some other larger implements.
Bragi was also interested in building a cast-iron stove. I suggested that we first try some flat iron plate to replace the top of our stone stoves. This would make cooking much more efficient and radiate more heat throughout the castle. I thought that despite our efforts, quality iron would remain somewhat scarce.
“I have a son, Bragi,” I said to the smith.
Bragi laughed and clapped me on the shoulder. “That is good news, Phil. And is Revna well?”
“She is doing well, although very tired. I took the opportunity to escape.”
“Ah, yes. Everyone is amused that you listened to her demands to stay with her.”
I made brawking sounds and pecking motions into my hand. He laughed uproariously. This was apparently yet another Philipism that would soon spread through the village. I had a sudden concern. I hoped that one wouldn’t get back to Revna. She wouldn’t appreciate it.
I interrupted his laughter with a question. “How goes the new furnace?”
“As you can see, it is nearly done. I should have it complete today, or maybe in the morning. Some of the women have suggested we do a furnace for making brick.”
“That’s a good idea,” I commented.
“Yes, I think so, too. But we probably aren’t making enough coke for another oven. The smelter will take everything we’ve got and then some.”
“Do you have someone in mind to train on tending the coking oven?”
He shrugged. “I have two in mind, but they don’t seem very interested. Thorkil is interested, but he breaks things.”
“And we don’t need that right now,” I snorted.
Thorkil was the village’s walking accident. He was willing and smart enough to tackle just about any task, but things just seemed to go wrong for him. When he went into the woods to help cut timber, he managed to break the two-man saw. Helping to collect coal at the mine, he effortlessly hoisted two bags to haul back to the village. Along the way, he tripped and scattered coal over several hundred feet of hillside. Helping to reinforce the dam, he nearly managed to drown Ivar.
“You see my problem, then?” Bragi asked.
“I just wish Thorkil wasn’t such a living disaster. Where I come from, we had a saying about people like him.”
“And what would that be?” Bragi leaned forward in anticipation.
“He is someone who could break an anvil.”
The smith burst into loud raucous laughter. He leaned over and slapped his knees.
“That is a fine description, Philip.”
“I may have to take him by the hand and teach him to avoid accidents.”
“Can you do something like that?” Bragi asked.
“It means that you have to watch for all the possibilities. If you think ahead about all the things that could go wrong, you are more likely to not step into that groundhog hole.”
My friend nodded sagely, “I think I understand. Like we have learned not to stand too close to the catapult in case the deer gut snaps.”
“That is it exactly,” I agreed. “Thorkil tries too hard to be helpful and doesn’t stop to think first. Of course, when I come out here to see how things are going, I look ahead and see that you will use the interruption to stop working.”
“That spear was dull, Philip,” Bragi laughed, holding his hand to his chest. “But you are right, I need to get back to the furnace. I’ve been neglecting my smithing to get this done.”
Dag staggered over to the new furnace and dropped a large rock.
“Dag,” I called, “don’t try to show off with how big a rock you can carry. When you are your da’s age, your back will remind you of the things you did in your youth, and not in a good way.”
The sheepish grin on Dag’s face indicated that I had scored.
“He thinks he is as strong as his da,” Bragi commented.
“Is he?”
“He hasn’t beaten me in our wrestling matches so far. But he is pretty strong.”
I looked over at Dag, who was grinning. “When you can beat your da in wrestling, I will let you carry the big rocks.”
“Would that be the smart thing to do?” he immediately challenged.
I shook my finger at him. “I won’t have to wrestle with you to show you who is smart.”
The villagers had picked up on Grant’s teasing me about my last name. They thought it was hysterically funny to point out that somebody was smart. Bringing back my memories of Grant threatened to depress me, but I was happy they felt they could tease me. Many of them had a sense of humor that was on the far side of wicked.
“I suppose I should check on Revna.”
Bragi grinned. “You do that.”
The smith specialized in subtle humor, and I barely felt the blade between my ribs. I raised an eyebrow back at him and turned to walk back to the castle. I was growing weary. I had made a long trek yesterday and was short on sleep. After our evening meal, I planned to turn in early. I fully expected to be awake several times during the night.
When I entered the castle common room, Revna was sitting in the corner nursing the baby.
“Should you be out of bed so soon?” I asked.
“I was in bed all day,” she responded. “I needed to be up. Besides, I feel well.”
“And how is young Mr. Smart doing?”
“He is a little piglet. He eats, burps, and then goes to sleep.”
“Ah, a good baby, then,” I said.
“Yes, and I hope he continues that way.”
“This is my first child, too, Revna. But I have heard stories.”
She giggled. “As have I. But I will take the good days since the bad ones will surely come.”
The rest of the adults filtered in for the meal. There was not enough room for everyone, so the children ate later. I noticed during the meal how many of the wives were with child. I guess I knew it, but hadn’t really absorbed what that meant. The village would experience healthy growth, though much of our energy would be devoted to raising children.
The women clustered around Revna to see the baby and to congratulate her. While some of their customs mystified me, there was no doubt that they highly valued each new life that came into the group.
After spending time answering questions and resolving arguments, I toddled off to bed. And I was correct in my assumptions. I did not get as much sleep as I had hoped.
4
“Will you be exploring to the north?”
I looked up quickly as Mrs. Feather posed the question. I always wondered what drove her suggestions, and I knew I wouldn’t get a direct answer.
“Is there some reason we should explore to the north? And how far north?” I ask Mrs. Feather.
“You have not looked in that direction yet, Mr. Smart,” she stated. “It’s always good to be aware of your surroundings.”
I studied her scowl and understood I would not get any more information from her. She loved to play these little games, and that is precisely what it was – her little game. Of course, I had become adept at poking back with responses that only drove her impatience. The trick was to avoid tipping her over into outright rage. She had once admitted to me that her kind, whatever that was, was impatient and ill-tempered.
