The Thrall (The Viking Hero Series Book 1) by Njord Kane

blood kin."
    The lawspeaker corrected them by saying, "This
is true. However, when a son passes who has not yet become a man by
his own right, then he is a man child and a child's property goes to
the mother. So the thrall and the blacksmith's other properties that
had passed to his son the moment Bjord died will go to the mother."
    "How can that be so, when they both died?"
protested Thorn.
    "This is because the moment when Bjord died,
his son still lived. At that point, all of what was Bjord's became
that of Sven's. Then when Sven died, all that was Svens went to his
mother, Gwenda." clarified Alvis.
    "That is nonsense!" objected Thorn.
    "In accordance to the law as has been recited
by the lawspeaker," Jarl Erling declared. "All that was
Bjord's had became Svens and all that was Sven's became the property
of his mother Gwenda. The thrall and all of Bjord's that is now
Sven's is now the property of Gwenda. This is the law, there will be
no further arguments on it."
    Oleg sat down hard upon a bench in disappointment,
but accepted the ruling. He had no choice. To go against the law as
recited by the lawspeaker and decreed by the Jarl would make him a
criminal.
    Thorn, hoping to gain a thrall and his brother
bjord's properties stormed out of the hall without any further word.
    'Woman, take claim of your thrall." said Jarl
Erling as he pointed to Rowan, whom had been standing there confused
as to what all just took place.
    "Thank you, my lord."
    Gwenda, assisting her mother, left the Hall with
Rowan gratefully following behind them.
    Rowan wasn't sure of what all had just taken
place. Everything seemed to have gone by so very quickly in extremes.
Nevertheless, he was glad to be out of the Jarl's Hall. He was no
longer being accused of murder and no longer facing an almost certain
horrible death by execution.

Chapter 11 - A Plan

    Rowan laid in his bedding, which was essentially
nothing more than a sack made from scrap cloth stuffed with straw and
an old worn deer hide laid over it. But all things considered, it was
more comfortable than sleeping on a bench or on the ground.
    He laid there lost in thought as he stared out the
open door into the curtain of darkness outside. It was a humid sticky
night and they'd left the door open to let the cooler breeze of the
night air come in.
    It was relaxing to hear the nocturnal creatures at
night go about their nightly routines with the smell of the fresh
night breeze cleansing the stale air inside the building.
    His thoughts raced through the events that had
passed over the past few days. Quite a bit had happened. Life
changing events that had forever changed how things would be from now
on. Not only was the household of which he belonged permanently
changed with a now uncertain future, but the line that divided what
was real and what was fantasy was also now blurred and obscured.
    As Rowan stared outside he noticed a small pair of
eyes looking back at him from just outside the door in the darkness.
    He was instantly alarmed by it and hastily sat up.
Rowan was afraid that perhaps the dead walker had returned in some
other form. Like it did when it showed up shape shifted as a cat. It
could perhaps be some other creature with ill intent as well. He had
no way of really knowing. He only knew that now he trusted nothing.
    Rowan reached for his ax while still peering
outside at the eyes cloaked in the darkness. The reflection in the
eyes did not seem to be those of a critter, although by their size
and proximity to the ground, it had to be a small creature.
    Armed with his ax, Rowan got out of his bed and
gingerly approached the door. He didn't want to wake anyone else up
in the house, in case it was just a woodland creature or some other
harmless critter looking to nip some food.
    As he got closer to it, there was a degree of
familiarity about it. Yes, the eyes in the darkness were familiar to
him. Indeed the eyes were not those of a hare, lynx, or even a fox.
    As soon as he stepped outside