milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

athelstan,
autor

(no subject)

Athelstan steps into the bar today with a bulging pouch slung over his shoulder, heads for a table and starts unpacking it.

He quickly has an odd assortment of items spread on the table, from tree bark to scraps of rough-tanned pale leather, all covered with small cramped writing - mostly done in the best ink he could make, meaning soot mixed with animal fat, with a goose feather pen. There's even a few pieces of wood with the writing scratched directly into them.

He's soon absorbed in sorting them into a logical order, but would be quite willing to be interrupted.

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"Absolutely," Autor says, nodding. "It sounds gripping and poignant. Are you planning to describe the whole of the Northmen's society or just the point of view of the slaves?"

"I haven't seen the whole of their society. I'll describe the parts of it I know - now Ragnar has risen, I may have access to more, through him."

"Ah, point," Autor says, clasping his hands behind his back again. "Still, this will be a very useful resource when it's finished. How much of the book do you think you have completed?"

"It's hard to say. I've written down... perhaps a third to a half of what I know? But I expect it will grow longer with time."

"Naturally, and then once you have written all that you can, you cut everything down again," Autor says, smiling a little.

He may be a bit too excited about the editing process.

Athelstan chuckles. "No doubt, or it would take far too much time to arrange and recopy it all."

"Is there anything I can do to help with this process?" Autor says, giving into temptation by gesturing to the pieces of wood.

"Well... what I'm doing now is to put it into some sort of order. It's been rather a process of writing things as they occur to me, I'm afraid, and it's jumbled."

"I understand, and you have your other duties as well," Autor says, inclining his head. "When do you get time to write?"

"After the household has gone to bed, mostly. I'm used to working in poor light, a candle is enough for me - or even the moonlight through the window, if it's a clear night."

"Ah, yes, I know that state well," Autor says, nodding. "I, too, am used to working by candlelight and oil lamps. Not so much moonlight, though. Your dedication to the craft is impressive."

He smiles and glances down.

"It seems to me having the ability to do the work, I shouldn't neglect it."

"Absolutely," Autor says, inclining his head. "To do so would be a great waste, nearly a crime. I hope that you can exercise your calling. What is your favorite part of the society that you've observed?"

He thinks about that.

"I suppose it would be how they are with their children. You might think sons would be more prized, and in some ways they are, but daughters can be doted on."

"Ah, I see," Autor says, smiling a little. "It is good to love one's children. What about your least favorite?"

The smile vanishes.

"The attitude to life. There was something Bjorn said as the girl was being sacrificed. I found it hard to watch, and he said 'What's the matter with you? It's only death.' The boy is twelve years old."

"Good heavens, that's awful," Autor says, his eyes widening. "It seems odd to me that they can prize their children, and yet be so dismissive towards life in that manner."

"Perhaps it comes of the way they live. They seem to count death as meaning little, if the man - or woman, I suppose, women must be able to earn Valhalla - has died in a way they consider good."

"Well, that's one way to take fear away from the concept," Autor says, adjusting his glasses. "What are good ways to die, according to them?"

"In battle, for one. It's the best way they know for a man to die, to the point there seems to be some shame in reaching old age. And some of the women choose that path, but for those who don't, I'm told dying in childbed or as a sacrifice guarantees entry to Valhalla."

"Hm! Similar to the Spartans," Autor says, furrowing his brow. "To willingly sacrifice oneself--I can't even imagine it. To whom or what do they sacrifice?"

"To their gods. Thor, Odin, Freyr... they are many. Each person seems to favour one or more, and the sacrifices - not always a person, more often an animal - may be offered to one or to all."

In that case, Autor would be amused to know Thor actually comes here.

"So clearly religion is a large part of their lives, and will be covered, I suspect, in your book," Autor says. "What is their educational system like? Do they have formal schooling, or is everyone taught at home?"

"The parents teach the children what they need to know. Their runes, and to fight for boys and those girls who wish it, and the crafts of the home."

"Runes?" Autor says, tilting his head. "Does everyone learn the crafts of the home? That's a good thing, if so."