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“Why have you come again?” The tall man with brown short hair asked with a quiet but annoyed voice, staring at the visitor seemingly irritated.
In front of him there stood a man with short light blond hair and hadn’t said a word in quite some time now. It was a cloudless night and the bright full moon lit up the area. A farmyard with basically four buildings around them. It didn't look like much but the farm with its surrounding wheat fields as far as the eyes could see was quite wealthy. Its owner, a man called Ketil, proved to have a Midas touch and had expanded the farm he had inherited from his father in no time.
„Hey, for how much longer are you planning to stand there?“ As the man in front of him wasn't responding, Einar growled again, trying to keep his voice down. It was in the middle of the night and everyone had gone to sleep already. Nevertheless, the man’s frequent visits had become quite annoying. The more so since he had gotten behind the man’s identity.
It was the man his friend Thorfinn had hated the most. Askeladd. Thorfinn considered him dead but apparently he was alive.
He was a bit shorter than Einar himself and must be about the same age as his master. His short silvery blond hairline was receding and a big long scar stretched down from his balding forehead to his bushy right eyebrow. When the man looked at him, his ice-blue eyes were a mix of indifference and aristocratic arrogance. But when he looked at Thorfinn, his eyes were gentle. Almost longingly.
As Einar was facing his back, he couldn’t be sure, but the old man probably had the same expression in his face right now.
„There is no need to get angry.“ Askeladd sighed with a low husky voice. „The king has decided to retreat to England and I will follow him. You won’t see me around anymore.“
Yes, it would really be the last time. Not like the times before. Usually he was a man of composure and full self-control over his behaviour. But maybe it was due to his age that he had become weak. How many times had he made visits to the farm, promising to himself that he had only come to see the blond young man for a last time, only to give in to his old habit three weeks later? No—, this time would be final.
Askeladd had thought his mind was playing tricks on him when he had spotted Thorfinn’s silhouette far away, small and inconspicuous among the soaring tree trunks, in the woods close to the farm. That time he had been travelling across Jutland in King Canute’s service, to trudge round the kingdom to ensure the feudal lords’s loyalty to his majesty. Although not of royal status, Ketil’s farm had also been on the list. Probably for the tribute.
Suffering a stabbing from the current king, it took him quite a while to recover. He lay in bed for months until he could stand up again and almost a year had passed by until he could leave the palace for extended walks and exercise. It had been over a year until he could actually start researching for Thorfinn’s whereabouts. Although the guards took him into custody, his scent was lost after that.
On the one hand, Askeladd never understood why he actually cared what had happened to someone who was not more than a useful tool to reach his ulterior motifs. On the other hand, Askeladd came to terms that he couldn’t deny that the boy had grown important to him. Even dear.
But after spending another year with no sign of him, Askeladd had given up. If he wasn’t dead, he could be anywhere in the world. And maybe the brat for once in his life took the last honest advice he had given him seconds before his seeming death seriously and had started a new life somewhere else. That would have been for the better, anyway.
It was really a coincidence that he had spotted the young man in the woods back then. After that Askeladd had visited the farm nearby, had a talk with Ketil in the main house and learned that Thorfinn was one of his slaves working there. Obviously, he didn’t reveal too much of his personal interest behind it but disguised his frequent visits as part of his duties.
Nevertheless, Ketil wasn’t a fool and soon got the impression that Askeladd was particularly interested in Thorfinn. At first, he had told the king’s advisor that Thorfinn was not for sale but then rowed back. Selling Thorfinn would bring him closer to his majesty and would maybe earn him his favour so he actually made Askeladd an offer which he declined.
For Askeladd, it was clear from the start it would be best for the young man if their paths didn’t cross anymore. Observing him from afar was enough for him.
Whenever he visited the farm, he made sure Thorfinn wouldn’t see him. He was usually invited to sit in the main house and observed the working slaves on the fields through an open window. That’s when saw that another slave, a tall man around Thorfinn’s age with brown hair, seemed to get along with him quite well. So he had Einar brought to him and had a talk with him.
At first, Einar was quite open towards the stranger but when he learned that he was the man who had killed Thorfinn’s father and manipulated him to become one of his killing tools, he had a hard time pulling himself together. He wanted to have nothing to do with him but as it was Ketil’s order there wasn’t much he could do.
From now on, whenever Askeladd made visits, he talked with Einar. It was reluctant on Einar’s side, but Askeladd made clear from the beginning that he had no intention meeting Thorfinn in person. It was like a deal between them. The method Askeladd always used to get what he wanted. Einar answered all his questions. That way he had found out a lot about Thorfinn’s current life.
Thorfinn had become someone who was considered a good slave. He was obedient. Fulfilled his assigned tasks. Didn’t complain. Didn’t try to run away. What for anyway? Freedom had lost its use for him. What would he do with his life anyway? He had uneasy nights and was haunted by the monsters in his nightmares. Even at daylight. One of the monsters was Askeladd himself.
„Sometimes he calls out your name.“ Einar had told him and that’s when he was all ears. However, he already knew what kinds of dreams he must have. There was no other way, that Thorfinn didn’t dream of him as his father’s killer and the bloodthirsty Viking raiding villages and slaying innocent civilians.
But Einar, as much as the slave hated admitting it, denied his assumptions. „He said that…he doesn’t hate you anymore.“
It was that moment. Something had changed in Askeladd. At the beginning, he had observed Thorfinn out of pure curiosity, to see what had become of the boy, and he was determined to keep it that way. But now it was different. Since Einar had told him that, a deep desire in him had blossomed. One that he had a hard time keeping under control. He wanted to meet Torfinn in person. Wanted to talk to him. See how he reacted if he knew he was alive. See if he would be even the slightest bit happy.
However, he knew he wasn’t allowed to feel that and had to fight the feeling with all he had.
When he had learned that the king had plans to go back to England, he arranged one final visit. He met Einar at night in secret. Ketil didn’t know about it. If it was the last time, Askeladd wanted to get closer to Thorfinn. And he could only do that at night. When he was sleeping.
So Askeladd had been standing there for half an hour at the threshold of the shed. Fearing that Thorfinn might have a light sleep and wake up, he didn’t dare to go inside up close. However, that wasn’t the case. The young man seemed to have another uneasy dream going on and seeing him turning hence and forth in the pile of hay and hearing him whine, ripped his heart apart.
„You’re a fucking coward.“ Einar scolded him from the background. „If you had the guts you wouldn’t stand here in the middle of the night when he’s sleeping. Why don’t you tell him everything?“
Einar was furious. Furious that he was only a slave and had to obey Askeladd who threatened to split on him to Ketil. Furious that Thorfinn had forgiven him. He could never forgive that man for doing all these cruel things to an extent that deeply traumatised him until now. Obviously, he hadn’t told Askeladd but the reason Einar hated him most was, that Thorfinn secretly liked Askeladd.
Einar wasn’t a fool. He had observed Thorfinn well and the light blush on his cheeks and the gentle look in his eyes were unmistakeable. As someone who had been driven by hate and had the habit of shutting down his feelings for the most part of his life, Thorfinn was a novice when it came to understanding his own feelings. Thorfinn hadn’t realised it yet but even a blind man would see it.
Although he was scolding Askeladd the truth was that, if he were honest about himself, he was even more of a coward. Einar didn’t hate Askeladd for his bad deeds but because of his own jealousy. He hated that Thorfinn couldn’t forget about the Viking. That he still thought of that bastard, deep in his heart.
Actually Einar was right. Askeladd was a coward and a fool. But being both wouldn’t change his mind. As sad as it was, Askeladd knew Thorfinn. He had spent ten years with the brat. Raising him. Shaping him. Askeladd knew that, if he showed up in front of him, Thorfinn would follow him. And where would that lead? It would just end on the battlefield again.
„That wouldn’t do any good. For some reason the gods decided to tangle our destiny strands together. It meant nothing but misfortune on Thorfinn’s side. I shouldn’t turn up in his life again. It’s better this way. That he believes I’m dead.“ Askeladd reasoned more with him than with Einar.
Apart from Thorfinn, he couldn’t say that his own relationship to the brat had been a very healthy one either. So it would be best. For both of them.
„Well, you’re right. I should go. Sorry, I bothered you with my old-man’s-talk.“
Askeladd turned but instantly froze as the hay made sounds of movement.
„Askeladd…?“
Shit.
„Is that you?“
Shit. Shit. Shit. Thorfinn had woken up. Fuck.
Maybe if he didn’t move, he would fall back asleep. But no. Askeladd had turned his back to the young man but from the sound the hay made, he could clearly hear Thorfinn sitting up. Einar had been quick and hid outside at the bottom of the shed wall. The old man didn’t move, didn’t even try to breath. He felt Thorfinn’s eyes on him. What should he do?
For a long time there was silence. Thorfinn didn’t say a word and just kept staring at the silhouette lit up by the full moon. Short hair glittered silvery. A coat was swayed by the breezes of the wind. There was only one man with a presence like that. Even if he just saw his back, he would recognise him among thousands of people. The man that haunted his dreams. The reason why his soul could never rest.
„No, you can’t be. You’re dead. My mind is playing tricks on me again.“ Thorfinn told himself and rubbed his eyes. He even pinched his cheeks and slapped his face a few times to figure out if he was awake or sleeping.
But it must be a dream. There was no way this could be reality. It wouldn’t be the first time, anyway. How many times had he seen visions of Askeladd somewhere in the woods between the soaring trees around him? Usually he wore his black armour. It was the first time, he wore a dark blue coat like tonight. He had never seen it on him. But with the ornaments it looked like something Askeladd would wear. He always had a liking for extravagant garments.
„Why can’t you let go of me?“
Now this really must be a dream. Or a vision. Or maybe a mix of both. Usually his visions didn’t speak to him. But Askeladd in his dreams did. Thorfinn didn’t know if he was awake or still sleeping. It felt like he was awake, but then he wouldn’t be able to speak to Askeladd.
Gods, he was such a lunatic. Although he had told Einar of his dreams, he hadn’t said a word about the visions. He was too afraid that Einar would call him crazy. However, that’s what he was. He couldn’t let Askeladd go. Or maybe it was the other way round. That he was haunted by Askeladd’s ghost.
„It’s wicked, I know.“ Thorfinn admitted. “For ten years I wanted to kill you and now I’m crying my eyes out like a baby because I want to be at your side so desperately. I’m so pathetic.“
Pathetic and insane. But it was nice to being able to talk to his visions for a change. Only a lunatic like him could be so happy about that. About having a conversation with the ghost of a dead person.
Thorfinn hugged his knees and pressed his face in the space between thighs and chest, desperately hiding his excitement. There was no way he could be that happy to hear Askeladd’s voice. So happy that it evoke that strange feeling in his stomach. Like there were butterflies flying around, lightly brushing over the inner walls there.
As Thorfinn didn’t show the slightest inclination to get actually up and close up the space between them, Askeladd dared and turned halfway around.
The young man sat huddled on the pile of hay, but avoided looking at him. His fingers were nervously playing with the ragged clothes he wore.
Askeladd was nervous, too. He was not going to lie about that. Even though, it was himself who had put these chains on him, he never thought he would ever have the chance to talk to Thorfinn again. He was lucky, too. The young man didn’t seem to realise that Askeladd was real. How could he? Askeladd had died in his arms. He had witnessed it with his own eyes.
At first, he thought the gods were playing a mean trick on him. It was certainly not a coincidence that Thorfinn had woken up that moment. But now, he thought of it as a blessing. This way he could put things right between him and Thorfinn. Maybe he could even free Thorfinn’s tormented soul from the guilt he felt. This way he could free both of them. So that they finally could make a cut and move on in their lives.
„You should forget about me.“ Askeladd said distantly. Hopefully, Thorfinn didn’t notice the hesitation in his voice.
„I can’t.“ Thorfinn instantly replied and made Askeladd raise his brows in astonishment.
And he would just ignore that his heart made a slight leap over it.
„You’re on my mind. Night and day. I see you everywhere. You’re with me. In the forest. On the fields. And at night I dream of you.“
Not that Askeladd didn’t know all of that. However, hearing it from the young man, he couldn’t help but being the slightest bit happy over it.
„And now you’re here again. It must be a dream, but it feels so real. Your presence. Like I could touch you.“
Now Thorfinn looked at him and Askeladd froze again alarmed. Their eyes met and locked. Thorfinn’s honey-brown pair of ambers and his ice-blue sapphires. A heartbeat passed. Askeladd panicked but didn’t dare to move.
Suddenly, Thorfinn reached out his hand.
Askeladd looked handsome, lit up by the moonlight like that. Until now it had been enough for him that his vision actually responded and he wasn’t just talking to himself (or maybe he was). It made him feel less lonely. It was strange. The excitement in him became stronger. So much that he even felt daring.
Thorfinn wanted to test how much of a lunatic he had become. Yes, maybe it was possible that he could even touch the vision in front of him. As if Askeladd’s blue eyes casted a spell on him. Why else would he be able to speak to Askeladd’s ghost? The truth was that he was desperate. He needed Askeladd. There was probably nothing in the whole world he wanted more than that. To be with him.
Thorfinn extended his arm even more. But even that way he had to get up fully.
Don’t!
Askeladd didn’t say a word but stared at him intently. Commanding him wordlessly not to come. Just like he had when he fought in the audience hall shortly after killing the former king. That time Thorfinn hadn’t listened and had rushed to him, catching him in his arms. This time it proved effective.
Thorfinn paused.
If he tried to touch Askeladd and he would vanish in front of him, it would prove that this was just another of his hallucinations. If it was a ghost, he might lose his trust and never be able to see him again. But if he refrained, he could keep this little flame in him. The hope. That Askeladd might really stand in front of him.
Finally, Thorfinn held back his hand and decided to stay where he was.
Askeladd wouldn’t show, but it took a load off his mind and his shoulders dropped in relief. That way he could keep his secret.
Thorfinn yawned and it brought a smile to Askeladd’s lips. „You should sleep. Tomorrow will be a hard day.“
„You’re right.“ Thorfinn couldn’t help another yawn.
Yesterday had been a hard day full of work, too. Thorfinn had almost forgotten how exhausted he had felt the evening before and how he had fallen into the hay dead tired.
When Thorfinn lay down, he heard Askeladd’s soft voice praising him. „Good boy.“
That’s when Askeladd decided, it was really time to go, and turned. He didn’t want to exceed his luck. The gods had granted him a last talk with Thorfinn so he could properly bid his farewells. It was not like a cruel man like him would have deserved such kindness, anyway. And especially not because he wasn’t the man who made frequent sacrifices to earn the gods’s favour.
„Askeladd?“
The old man paused as Thorfinn’s voice held him back.
The young man lay on his side, his sleepy eyes half open, watching Askeladd’s back once more while falling asleep. Suddenly, a pleasant memory appeared in his mind, which was quite rare. The way Askeladd stood there with his back on him while he lay in the hay reminded him of the moments his father had kissed him goodnight when he was still a child and he watched him leave the room. Covered in the warm furs he would fall asleep instantly while watching his father’s back.
He used those moments to tell his father a final message before the end of the day. Sometimes he apologised because he had been a bad boy. Sometimes it had been a nice day and he let his father know about it. Those were happy times and he couldn’t help but having the same warm feeling in his chest right now.
„Thank you. For being with me. You know, I’ve been wondering why I have these visions of you and I started realising that you’re actually very kind. You cared for me. You have always been watching over me. And you keep on doing it.“
Everything in Askeladd started to scream. Although he remained motionless on the outside, he shook inside. He wanted to shout in protest. But he pulled himself together not to and kept still.
Fucking stupid brat!
Instead he cleared his throat, „You should really sleep now.“ His voice sounded graver than he intended.
He made a step forward, but was instantly called back again.
„Askeladd?“
Gods, this was worse than torture. This way he was drawn closer to reveal his secret. It really took all his willpower to keep his feelings under control and constantly remind himself that it was for the better if he made a cut here and now. The longer he stayed the more he wanted to take Thorfinn with him. Well, if everything else failed, he would just knock the brat unconscious.
„Will I ever see you again?“
Shit. This was the hardest thing he had ever done.
I really wish we would.
It broke his heart but to make it easier for both of them he said. „Yes. In another dream.“
With a smile Thorfinn closed his eyes. For the first time he was looking forward to another dream like this when he got the chance to meet and talk with Askeladd.
Askeladd stayed in place until he heard Thorfinn’s calm and steady breath. He turned to look at the young man lying in the pile of hay for a final last time. That’s when he was completely thrown back. With big steps, he walked towards the sleeping body, loosened the string of his coat around his neck and swung it over Thorfinn.
Now it was well and truly over.
He spinned on his heels and without looking back another time, he left the shed, mounted his horse and rode his way.
When Thorfinn woke up the next morning, Askeladd was already on the ship to England.