In fact, most of the village of Houllebec did. And the only people in the village (that I knew of) who didn’t were people I had not met.
My adventure may have not started all that great but it got a whole lot better.
First, I found a side saddle in the stable (as well as a big washing tub with one of those grinder things to wring out clothes so I could wash my clothes and I did, using that thing, though, it must be said it wasn’t my favorite thing to do especially since I had to hang everything all around the house and it took forever to dry and messed with the cozy, rustic cabin vibe I had going).
I knew how to ride, just not side saddle, but I loaded the saddle on one of my grays, figured out how to lug my ass up on it and, the very next day after I arrived, I followed our tracks into the village I quickly learned was called Houllebec.
And I’d gone every day since.
The village was awesome. It didn’t only look cool, it was cool. It had two warm, clean, fun pubs, both that served excellent food and both had inns because people travelled there to use the hot springs that were hidden all through the hills – this a moneymaker for the townsfolk as the hot springs were well known and the people who sought them brought loads of “coin”. It had a bakery that made magnificent bread, tarts, cakes and even pastries. They had a butcher, a small dressmaker, a market that had staples and not-so-staples including some fresh veg on occasion and even bright-colored delicious candy and sumptuous chocolate they brought in (stocked all the time!) and homemade fudge they made right in the window. It had a blacksmith, an iron works, a stable, a mill and other such cool-as-shit, remote village-in-a-frozen-parallel-world stuff.
I wandered the town daily and sometimes stayed as late as dinner, which I ate in the pubs, and beyond so I could have a few ales, chat and play cards with new friends.
I was friendly, talkative and anyway, they knew who I was because they heard about me marrying The Drakkar who, I discovered, was actually named Drakkar, as in Frey Drakkar, this I learned luckily if coincidentally on my fourth (but not last) stop to buy chocolate croissants from the bakery. They also knew me because my hair was well-known and many of them told me they’d know me from miles away with just one glimpse of my Lunwyn-wide, famous, beautiful white-blonde hair (this I thought was sweet).
And they were in fits of ecstasy because their country’s only princess was in their midst, she was friendly and chatty, liked their wares and spent her husband’s coin freely.
I was in fits of ecstasy because Houllebec was awesome, no matter how many times I went, there were always new things to discover, they were nice and, when I started to hang, I found they were fun to be around.
So I hung around… lots.
Even when I was at home, I was never bored and found ways to entertain myself. I tried on all my clothes and underwear (all fabulous). And I might have had a fantastic bakery a ten minute horse ride away but I’d also befriended Audrey and Cedric, the baker’s wife and baker, and they’d told me how to make bread, cakes and tarts in the oven at home. I bought the stuff from Maria at the market and I had to admit the first few goes weren’t anything to write home about (this included normal cooking) but I got the hang of the fire-burning stove. It was a pain in the ass but the results were worth it.
Every day prior to going to town, I also got on one of my grays (they were on a rotation so they could all get some exercise) and started slow circles of the land around Drakkar’s cabin. I did this just to check things out and I did it steady and smart, noting landmarks so I wouldn’t get lost. My circles widened by the day and at first I found there wasn’t much but the good news was, it was all pretty.
That was, there wasn’t much until I found Drakkar had his own personal hot spring.
Yep, his own personal hot spring!
It was an oasis in the middle of the frigid forest of gray, slick stone that, because of the spring, was warm to the touch, steam rising from the water which was sublime.
I went there every day too, mostly because this was where I bathed. It was much better than starting a fire hours before to heat the bathroom space, then boiling water on the stove and lugging it to the tub then the back and forth with buckets to empty it, finally, when I could shift it, dragging the whole damn thing to tip it out around the house where the slosh of water wouldn’t make my walkways too icy.
Hell, after I did all that, I was sweaty and needed another freaking bath.
The hot springs were way better in more ways than one. I freaking loved sitting out in the beauty of the frosty forest and luxuriating in the hot, splendiferous water. It was the bomb.
I had also adopted a cat, a huge, fat, ginger named Penelope. This was from Lindy, the bar wench, whose new husband was allergic and she couldn’t find anywhere for her cat to go. Penelope had been relegated to the stables, something she did not like, until I took her home. My gray didn’t like her much on her back, and Penelope was not all fired up about the ride, but we made it to the cabin without (major) incident and Penelope did like the cabin. And she especially liked a Momma who liked to cuddle and didn’t mind getting up every ten minutes to let her out to explore then getting up ten minutes later to let her in because it was fucking cold outside.
She made sleep a dream because she purred me straight to slumberland and her big, fat body was warm on my feet.
And lastly, I had five books that were packed for me and I discovered that Sjofn had not screwed me as badly as I thought she had (though she did still screw me) once I cracked them open.
The first was a history of the Northlands including Lunwyn, where I was princess, my father was king and my mother queen. The Northlands also included Middleland (where I discovered my Uncle Baldur was king though I found this strange since I didn’t have an uncle at home and anyway, I’d never heard of a man with a name like Baldur). I also learned the House of Drakkar (which I wondered if my husband was a part of) used to rule the land ages ago. Though I couldn’t know about my husband’s House for the book focused more on recent history rather than past history, he wasn’t mentioned and I reckoned Sjofn chose it so I’d know what I was dealing with in the present.
I’d learned from this book that also in the Northlands there was the country of Hawkvale, a small city state called Bellebryn and another country at the south border called Fleuridia.
This book was written well and was interesting and I knew Sjofn chose it not only for informational purposes but also because the information was put forward in an entertaining way. Therefore, I was entertained.
The second was the story of the gods and the third was a slim tome about religious practices in Lunwyn which explained the whole church thing.
The six statues at the church, or Dwelling of the Gods as they called it here, were their six gods: Wohden, god of power (his color was dark blue, and those who prayed to him or made offerings did so to shrines bearing his color or with gifts in his color), Hermia, goddess of motherhood (her color, light blue), Meer, god of war (his color, red), Adele, goddess of passion (her color, deep violet), Keer, god of destiny, (his color, gold) and Alabasta, goddess of wisdom and overseer of the earth (her color, green).
Holy people, known as Vallees, were all men and all ceremonies, including Friday night sermons, were delivered in what was known as the “ancient tongue” or what the Lunwynian people spoke centuries ago. The reason for this was traditional, and, in my opinion, a little idiotic seeing as only Vallees spoke the ancient tongue (but usually, they didn’t actually know it, only a few religious scholars did, they just recited it which meant that dude jabbering on at our wedding had memorized that whole thing which, I had to admit, was kind of remarkable) with everyone else in Lunwyn knowing only a few words.
My bundle of twigs was a traditional bundle held by brides. It was gathered from the adela tree, a tree spiritual belief had it that Adele, goddess of passion, caused to glitter through her magic and, if you steeped its twigs and drank it, it was supposed to be an aphrodisiac but seemed, upon reading in the book a description of what it could do, more like something to use simply to have one hell of an almighty trip.
The fourth and fifth books I wouldn’t understand until I found my true note that Sjofn stuffed in one of them.
They were also slim tomes but they told the tales of the “Raiders” or, what others called the “Voyagers”. These were men who sailed the many seas of this world, finding treasure (or taking it by looting and pillaging). They seemed somewhat like what the legends told of old Vikings from my world.
I would understand the inclusion of these because Sjofn’s note said this:
Seoafin,
