Seidhrman

It was winter, and night had erased the day. Here in Norway, from Novembris until Januarius, the sun did not bother to rise above the horizon. Must be wonderful for vampires, thought Kenneth Hutchinson.

Of course, in this modern age of the year 2744, they were blessed with hydroelectric power, of which great blessing Norway produced more than almost any other country in the Empire. Norwegian homes, Norwegian businesses, and Norwegian streets blazed with light, 24 hours a day, lest evil spirits from the Otherworld attack.

Out here, in the wilderness, Hutch was less fortunate. Or more fortunate, depending on one's point of view. His campsite was lit only by the fire, the moon and the stars. It was the way Hutch preferred things, when he had a choice. He feared no attack from the Otherworld, or rather was he prepared to handle any attack that came.

A wolf howled, off in the distance, and was answered, close at hand. Hutch looked up, and smiled. Viggo sat above him, on a hill overlooking the fjord. Again he raised his head, and joined in the chorus of howls. It was some time before the exchange of wolfish information concluded, and Viggo came to join him by the fire.

'So,' said Hutch. 'What do your friends have to say for themselves?'

Viggo grinned, and butted his head against Hutch's shoulder. An array of bright images coursed through Hutch's mind.  A storm out at sea. A ship in distress. Crew and passengers abandoning the ship for the lifeboats. One of the boats making its way here. Here to this fjord. A man in the boat. Alive, but cold, hungry and afraid. A man who knew not the ways of this land of night. It seemed that the whales had been passing on a lot of information via whalesong.

'Keep an eye out,' said Hutch.

Viggo woofed his agreement, but Hutch had the feeling that the wolf was laughing at him. More images flicked across his mind. Images of ears twitching and turning, and noses raised and sniffing. Viggo was right. In darkness, ears and noses were of far more use than eyes. Hutch went off to gather more firewood, which he piled high on the beach below his campsite. There were few safe harbours along this particular stretch of the fjord, making the beach the most likely place for a lifeboat to land. Indeed, that was why Hutch had chosen to camp here in the first place.

He lit the large bonfire, and it flared up like a beacon in the dark, lonely, eternal night.

***************************************

David Starsky was miserable. The sun in this accursed place had crawled up some evil God's ass and died, and he felt much like doing the same. He reminded himself that he had never wanted this mission in the first place, but when one was a rather low-ranking officer in the Vigil Militarius, the Military Police, one did what one was told.

The mission itself was intended to improve relationships with Norway. Norway was a client state of the empire, not under direct military command, and the Emperor preferred that to a war which could cost many lives. The Roman Pax had been in effect for so many years, that Starsky sometimes wondered if there was anyone left in the Empire who knew how to fight. Yes, they carried out exercises, played war games. But real war? That was the question.

No matter. That wasn't Starsky's problem at the moment. He had come along as a personal bodyguard for the delegation sent to effect a new energy treaty between Norway and the rest of the Empire. Norway produced a lot of energy. The Empire needed a lot of energy. A simple equation, one would think. Offer Norway what it wanted in trade, and acquire the energy in return.

Except that things were never so simple. There was the matter of the environment for one, though Starsky was at a loss to explain why anyone would care about such a dark and cold and dangerous thing as the environment. Then there was something or other about religion, as usual. The Norse had a different one, of course, worshipping Odin and Freya and Thor, or something, instead of Jupiter and Juno, or Zeus and Hera and Apollo. That was fine. No one cared what names you called your Gods.

However, there was now this cult that had stayed underground where it belonged, until recently. What was it called again? Starsky couldn't say to save his life, which was sad considering his current predicament. Anyway, they only worshipped one god, or goddess. Starsky wasn't sure which one it was. Eros would be a good choice if he ever had to make one, though Starsky hoped he never did. Picking one God to worship could be dangerous. The other Gods might get jealous, and a jealous God was an angry God. No future in that.

It seemed, however, that this cult had been causing a lot of problems lately, and one of the places they had been causing the problems was here, in Norway. Something about sin, that was it. They were always yelling about sin, and sin seemed to involve anything that was worth doing.

What would be worth doing right now, was finding a safe harbour, near a town with lights and food and people, and a warm bed, with a warm body in it to keep him company. Man or woman, it didn't matter. Starsky hated being cold and hungry, but, even more, he hated to be alone.

Something disturbed his lonely internal monologue. A sound. A long lonely howl. Wolves! Oh, that was perfect. There were wolves out there in the dark. If he managed to find a safe place to land the boat, he'd be eaten by wolves. If he stayed in the boat, he'd die of exposure, eventually. Great choice.

David Starsky, he thought, you are doomed.

A light flared up, a bonfire, just ahead, on what appeared to be a safe beach. A bonfire meant human life, protection against the elements and the wolves. But were the humans here civilized? Starsky hadn't heard any stories about the Norse being cannibals, but who knew what rites some strange religious cult practised?

There was someone standing near the fire, Starsky could now see. It was a tall someone, perhaps a man, though it was difficult to tell, because of how he was dressed. He wore an atrocious, barbarian assortment of skins and furs, that probably kept him nice and warm, instead of the proper Roman army fatigues and overcoat that Starsky wore. The army fatigues and overcoat that had no real warmth here in Norway. Starsky wondered if the Barbarian could be persuaded to trade.

But now what? Sit in the boat and starve, or venture on land and get eaten, courtesy of wolf or Barbarian?

As Starsky thus contended with himself, the boat itself decided the issue, and started for the shore. Starsky frantically backpaddled, but it was no use. In a few moments, he both heard and felt the boat make contact with the land.

The someone standing by the fire came forward and spoke in a deep voice, definitely male. Also definitely cultured. So, not a Barbarian.

He said, in perfectly accented Latin, 'Greetings! Welcome to my home. Would you care for some tea, or something stronger?'

Starsky stared at the tall stranger, who so casually and graciously greeted shipwrecked sailors who washed up along deserted fjords in the dead of winter, as though he were a courtier at the Palace of the Empress at Byzantium, greeting some client King or Queen come for a garden party.

'My apologies! You must have been sitting in that boat for some time. Need a hand out?'

'No! I'm fine,' Starsky protested. But he was wrong, and the tall stranger gave him his arm to lean on as they walked to the bonfire.

The heat seemed to set Starsky's very bones on fire, after the long, cold journey. The stranger offered him a flask of something, and Starsky took a long swig. Whatever it was, it burned going down. Wonderful! He took another.

'Hey! Careful there,' said the stranger, and gently took the flask back.

'Wait,' said Starsky, forgetting to be polite. 'I wasn't finished with that.'

'Don't worry. There's more where that came from. Look, you need to get warmed up, and you probably haven't eaten in some time. If you drink too much now, you'll pass out. Come on inside.'

'Inside? Inside where?'

Starsky looked around. There was the fjord. The mountains ahead. Trees. And the everliving snow. And that was it.

'Come here, I'll show you. See? A cave. Nice and warm.'

It was warm, both heated and lit by a small fire at the entrance.

'Sit down,' the stranger said, indicating a pile of skins.

Starsky sat. The stranger handed him a bowl of stew, and Starsky ate. It was the most delicious meal he could ever remember eating.

All this time, the stranger had been watching him, quietly. His eyes were strange, a light silvery blue. Starsky was used to darker eyes, brown, or black, or dark blue like his own.

'Are you feeling better now? Need some sleep?' 'Yes. That would be good.' Starsky felt lost, and so tired he could scarcely keep his eyes open. To be given permission to close them, was wonderful.

'Then sleep,' said the stranger. 'My name is Kenneth Hutchinson, and I will protect you from the evil spirits of the night.'

'Dave Starsky,' he answered, automatically. Then he put his head down on the pile of furs and slept.

Some time later, he awoke. He was alone in the cave, but, when he glanced outside, he saw that his host was there, sitting outside, perhaps guarding him against those evil spirits. That was kind of him.

Sitting before him was a giant wolf.

By Jupiter's Balls! Starsky did not hate wolves, nor would he ever kill one, unless in self defense. Wolves were sacred to the Romans and much admired. But to have a tamed one sit at your feet! Who was this man? A true descendant of Romulus or Remus? A male witch?

'Viggo.' said Hutchinson, and then something else incomprehensible. The wolf barked in reply, then looked up at Starsky. Hutchinson turned and saw Starsky at the cave entrance.

'Hello. Have you had enough rest for now? Would you like more food? Don't let Viggo bother you. He's harmless.'

'I'm sure he is,' muttered Starsky. But, by Jupiter, he would not show more fear than some skin-wearing Barbarian. He came and sat beside Hutchinson, and the wolf looked at him and grinned.

Starsky accepted another bowl of the stew from his host, and thanked him.

'It's nothing,' said Hutchinson.

'Not nothing at all,' answered Starsky. 'You have saved my life. But how? Why? Whatever are you doing out here?'

'Here?' Hutchinson looked around, as if the wilderness were the marketplace at Rome, or Ostia. 'Waiting for you.'

Starsky choked on his stew, and Hutchinson handed him the flask. Starsky nearly emptied it before Hutchinson grabbed it back.

'What do you mean, waiting for me?'

'I had a vision that told me to come here, and wait for someone else who would join me by sea. I've been waiting here a week.'

'A vision? You are a seer?'

'A Seidhrman, we call it. I suppose a kind of seer.'

'And you've been here a week? Waiting for me? Well, I must thank you, but I don't know how to repay you. I'm only a poor soldier, and I have no money.'

'I don't want money, or indeed any payment. You are now my guest friend. That is a sacred vow.'

'We could go back in the cave, if you like.'

'Hmm?'

'You know? Fuck?'

Starsky looked at Hutchinson's face. He nearly laughed. Never had Starsky thought to see a grown man blush like a Vestal Virgin over a simple common word or suggestion. Perhaps he was one of those strange people who only liked one gender?

'Ah. My apologies,' he managed. 'I didn't mean to offend against your customs, or...'

A warm, strong hand covered his own. 'You haven't offended me.' Then, as if reading his mind, Hutchinson added, 'And I'm perfectly normal, too, so I enjoy sex with men or women. Maybe later, when you've had more rest. How's that?'

'That's fine,' Starsky said. 'But wait.'

He leaned in close, and touched his lips to Hutchinson's. They were warm and sweet, and he felt the other man tremble. The response to his kiss was remarkable for its innocence, as if Hutchinson had not had much experience, despite his words. Starsky deepened the kiss, and when he slipped his tongue inside the other man's mouth, Hutchinson gasped.

Starsky drew back a little, and looked up, wondering. It had been perhaps the most enjoyable kiss he had ever engaged in. The other man still looked a little flushed. Starsky smiled.

'That's enough for now, I think. But I want to take you up on your offer for later.'

'It's a deal,' said Hutchinson.

Yes, thought Starsky. The deal of a lifetime. Boy, do I have a lot to teach you. And what fun that is going to be, out here with no one but the wolves to hear you howl and scream.

Overhead, the sky flickered and glowed with strange lights. Starsky had seen nothing like them. An omen, perhaps, he thought. Perhaps I have found my destiny.

*** The End ***

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