Besides baskets, sickles, and hoes, some of Tallev’s group carried axes over their shoulders, others had short swords hanging at their waists, and each of them bore a round shield.
They were fully equipped—
all except Ga, who looked strangely bare and thin among them.
And so, in noisy formation, they marched north toward the forests beyond Sandvika.
On the way, they passed the farm they had originally been assigned to. Children from other houses were already there, busy harvesting and gathering. The moment they saw Tallev leading his housemates off-script again instead of working, they understood at once—
Trouble.
Laughter spread across the fields.
“Look, it’s that madman again.”
“Hey, Tallev! Going off to play and not inviting us?”
“Don’t let Lagertha carry you back! I’ll die of jealousy!”
Laughter erupted.
The farm children kept shouting after them. A few younger boys even whistled at Lagertha, grinning stupidly.
Tallev stuck out his tongue in response.
“Next time! Lord Tallev has grand business to attend to!”
Lagertha waved cheerfully, adding with playful cruelty,
“Don’t worry. I won’t carry him back. I’ll make him cry all the way home.”
Sten flushed at the scene, as if he had been lumped into the same category of fools. He turned his head aside in deliberate indifference—only for several girls on the farm, who had been watching him, to sigh in disappointed whispers.
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Badji merely offered an awkward smile and waved briefly to familiar faces, accepting the attention with resignation.
Ga walked at the rear of the group. She lifted her eyes and briefly met the gazes from the farm.
Then she turned away, expression hard.
The laughter gradually faded.
They remembered.
The fragile little white rabbit who had tried to run—
who had been dragged into a bear cage and nearly killed—
whom they themselves had tossed and mocked, fully intending to see her break dow and die.
And now she walked again.
Alive.
And worse—she had joined Tallev’s reckless, dangerous little warband.
There was no laughter now.
No cheers.
Only something unsettled and unclear.
As they neared the edge of the settlement, they encountered a bullock cart convoy driven by Viking youths. The cargo was hidden beneath rough cloth, piled high.
Two Jarls rode upon the wagons—
Synvar, master of the forge and workshops,
and Viggo.
Viggo spotted the fully armed little warband approaching and called out eagerly:
“Hold it there! Tallev, where are you off to fight? Planning to fill those baskets with heads?”
Tallev didn’t stop walking. He marched proudly ahead.
“Bruuutu-tu-tu! Dwarf Hiiiill!”
Sten straightened his posture while walking.
“Reporting, Jarl. We’re not fighting. Just gathering in the deep forest.”
“Hi, Brother Viggo! Brother Synvar!” Badji waved as he passed.
“Good morning, Jarl Viggo. Jarl Synvar.”
Lagertha paused briefly to bow politely.
“Hmph. Your house never knows how to stay quiet… Hmm?”
Viggo’s eyes met Ga’s at the rear of the group.
Ga immediately looked away.
Viggo grinned.
“Oh? Isn’t that the little white rabbit who almost got killed by a bear? And you’re bringing him out again? Careful a wolf doesn’t snatch him up!”
Tallev turned back while walking.
“No worries. He beat the bear. He’s strong. And don’t call him little white rabbit—he’ll get mad.”
“Tch. He doesn’t even understand Viking. It’s fine, right? Little white rabbit?”
Ga stopped.
Turned.
Glared.
And shouted in flawless Viking:
“Fuck you! Don’t call me that.”
There was a beat of silence—
Then the Viking youths burst into roaring laughter.
“Did you hear that? Perfect Viking profanity!”
“That rabbit speaks Viking?”
“He’s Viking? Doesn’t look like it.”
“Jarl, should we call them back?”
Viggo waved dismissively.
“Nah. That’s Tallev. No one stops him except the King. Let’s deliver the cargo first. We’ll see what nonsense they’re up to later.”
Leaning against the cart, Viggo watched with amused eyes as Tallev and his little warband disappeared into the thinning mountain mist.
