52 Thenn

"Look there, Magnar, there are at least half a hundred tents."

"I see them, go back and give a warning to the warriors, let them prepare their weapons and come as soon as possible."

Styr frowned at the savages stationed at the gates of his valley, because of the storms, his men had not been aware of their presence until they were only half a day's ride away.

"Have you no lookouts?"

"No, Magnar, we have sent men over the gorge, and they have seen no lookouts, it is as if they do not care or know of our presence."

Styr's facial muscles relaxed slightly, this made things much easier, they would surround these savages and slaughter them with a pincer attack, with their archers firing arrows from the top of the gorge, and it would be very easy to kill them all.

"Let's get a little closer!"

With Styr's orders, his 16 men got off their horses and walked a little closer to the camp, realizing how well-established it was.

"No, something's not right, let's fall back!"

Styr looked at the tents and knew instantly that these men were well organized, it was impossible for them not to leave lookouts, maybe it was a trap.

"CRACK!"

As they were about to turn back, a large arrow stuck in the ground, cutting them off.

"Who?!"

Styr drew his sword along with all his men, and watched, with some tension, as a person showed himself from the shadows of the gorge several meters up.

It was still dark, for it was not yet dawn, but the black silhouette slowly showed itself from the shadows, revealing the figure of a young man, perhaps 12 or 13 years old, and in his hands carrying a Weirwood longbow, which was even larger than himself.

3 of Styr's men raised shortbow aiming at the young man, but Styr raised his hand causing them to stop as he watched the young man place another arrow on the string of the longbow, as the huge arrow the young man had just shot had embedded itself deep into the stone, revealing the monstrous strength of his carrier, it would not have been difficult for him to pierce 2 or 3 of his men if he had wanted to. Should a confrontation begin, he did not know how many of his men or he would die.

"We are members of the black axe tribe, we come to trade with the people of Thenn."

Blake said in the ancient tongue, he had seen them since they approached the camp, as he had been standing guard all night while the other tribesmen slept.

"Black axe tribe?!"

"It's Oswin, he came again!"

Several of Thenn's men said, in excited voices.

Styr's eyes bore into Blake, assessing him for a moment before speaking.

"I am Styr, Magnar of the Thenns, guard your Bow if you have come to trade!"

Blake detailed the man, his head was hidden behind a bronze helmet, and he wore bronze plate armor, at the same time he had unsheathed a bronze claymore, Blake managed to see through the openings in the helmet gray eyes peering warily at him.

"Crack!"

Blake put the longbow away, leaping from a height of 4 meters, causing Thenn's men to back up a step at his sudden actions.

"I am Blake, son of Oswin, I have heard of Styr, Magnar of the Thenn from my father."

Blake walked until he was within 10 feet of Styr and his men, since he had come down the gorge, he looked much shorter than the Thenn men, still, they all noted wary of him.

"Well then, Blake son of Oswin, did your father come too in this group or are you the one who came to trade with the Thenn!"

Since Blake had left his bow and the high position where he could cut them off and attack them, Styr and his men were not as pressured, so Styr stood upright as he asked.

"!!!!!!"

Blake didn't answer, but instead sounded the horn strapped to his waist, and in less than a minute all the men, fully armed, came out of the tents in alarm.

"What has happened!"

"It's Blake's horn!"

"Have 20 men guard the rear and another 20 climb the gorge!"

Oswin came out of his tent organizing the men and walking with several of his warriors towards the direction where the horn was heard.

"Magnar Styr!"

"Magnar Oswin!"

Styr and Oswin shook hands as if they were old friends upon meeting.

The goods Oswin brought last time to the Thenn Valley were highly prized by the whole village, for they were of great quality.

"You met my son Blake."

Oswin put a hand on Blake's shoulder as he spoke.

"We surrounded the camp without knowing it was the black axe tribe, but we didn't manage to see your son and were surprised..."

"Hahahahaha, naturally, my son has the best view of the tribe, no one could get close without him seeing them."

Oswin laughed, proudly.

"You can take this as a goodwill gift from the black axe tribe."

Blake stepped forward, offering Styr a rope with 17 white-feathered partridges, tied together, that he managed to capture from a nest that night.

Although they would initially be part of the tribe's breakfast, it was better to give them as a gift and earn the Thenn's goodwill.

"How many men did you bring this time, Oswin?"

Styr took the partridges in satisfaction and asked. It was not like a Magnar to refuse a gift.

"About 150, we brought food, wine, and clothing, as we are in the middle of winter, but the storms have slowed us down a lot and the men are tired."

"Good, organize your men, I will lead them into the valley."

Styr nodded at Oswin's words and walked beside the latter as they led the way to Thenn.

It didn't take long, and they encountered a hundred warriors on the road.

"I thought they were enemies so I was organizing my warriors."

Styr said as he marched his warriors alongside the group, who rode woolly horses, more like goats than horses.

"We received news from the Hornfoots about the black axe tribe, they said they had wiped out the Ice-river clans, is it true?"

Styr asked Oswin.

"Yes, the last time I visited Thenn, my men and I were almost killed by an ambush by the Ice-river clans, shortly after that we received another attack on our stronghold, we had no choice but to go to war after that."

Oswin explained, pointing to Blake finally.

"My son Blake was the one who made the final attack, destroying all the settlements on the banks of the Milkwater River."

Styr looked back at Blake, who was walking behind Oswin, next to Zafar and Wymond.

"He's almost as young as my son Sigorn."

It was quite incredible that such a young boy would be left in charge of such an attack, but Styr had seen Blake's archer skills, so he believed he had commanded from the rear, something that was not so shocking.

The Magnar were the only ones to speak all the way, and Oswin showed a good command of the ancient tongue.

The black axe tribe was too close to the great wall, and they spoke the common tongue of Westeros, but Oswin had wandered all over the land beyond the wall in his youth, so he knew the ancient tongue.

"The fiendish storm is finally over."

Oswin said as they emerged from the gorge, the mountains covered most of the winter breeze, and no snow was falling, so the weather was very good compared to before.

Blake noticed traces of cultivation on the land, even though it was currently covered with snow, so he concluded that Thenn's men were growing their food.

There were fur huts, log cabins, and uncemented stone houses along the road, some propped up by trees and others half buried under the earth, they gave Blake the feeling of an old, out-of-the-way village.

They walked for hours, passing streams and a large lake fed by a waterfall cascading down a mountain, and finally came to a square fortress made of logs, at least twice as big as the outpost fortress.

"So there are places like this to the north as well."

Blake said looking at the fortress surrounded by houses.

"The walls are as high as those of our fortress in the second settlement, but this one is at least 4 times bigger. The first time I saw it I was also impressed. But it's not what it looks like, the walls are simple logs stacked together, and they don't have the defensive capabilities of the fortress city or the tribe."

Wymond replied.

Blake noticed that despite the fortress being larger, it had rotten logs, unrepaired holes, and almost fallen walls, it had not received proper maintenance in a long time, and if it were to receive an attack, it would be very easy to breach the walls.

There was a large group of people waiting in front of the fortress, and several approached to greet Oswin and Wymond.

"Bless the gods, Oswin, it's good to see you!!!"

A burly Thenn man, bald, and scarred face, greeted Oswin.

"Gerd, with a demon, the clothes I left you in last time already look like rags, don't you understand that you're already ugly enough to look so shabby besides!"

"And the only thing that has changed with you is that you have more ornaments in your beard, soon it will weigh so much that it won't let you look up!"

Blake noticed that the robes worn by the man from Thenn were indeed one of the outfits he had sent on the last caravan, only they were torn, dirty, and haggard.

"This is my son, the one I told you about, accompanying me on this expedition."

Oswin reintroduced Blake, who stepped forward to greet Gerd.

"You said he was pale, but with a demon, if he stays on the snow he could camouflage himself better than a Shadowcat during the night."

"Hahahahaha that may be so, but he is a better hunter than many of my men, plus he can build forts and houses, cultivate the land, keep livestock, and heal wounds. He is the pride of our tribe."

Oswin said, boastfully.

"Bring the skins and horns, Oswin brought food and clothing to trade."

Styr ordered Gerd.

Styr looked at all the food, regalia, wine, and different carvings Oswin was unloading from the wagons and frowned.

It had only been 3 years since Oswin last went to Thenn, so they hadn't prepared enough goods to trade since he had emptied his stores back then.

And when Gerd returned with a large number of people from Thenn carrying all the furs and a few other things, it became obvious.

Oswin unloaded 20 wagons full of food and clothing, but all the goods Styr had would only be enough to trade for ¼ of all the merchandise.

"Have the men gather animal skins from all the houses in Thenn, bring also 10 bronze armor, 10 helmets, 20 sheep, and 5 horses."

"Are you sure Styr?"

Gerd asked with a worried look, they had worked hard to make those armors, not to mention the sheep and horses.

"Follow my order!"

Styr shouted, causing Gerd to look down with a nod.

They had used up much of their food reserves, and Oswin brought not just meat, but fresh vegetables, salt, and wine. They needed these provisions as they did not know how long the winter would last. As for the clothes, they were custom-made, with no holes and worked fur, it was much better than what they wore, so they would never lose out by offering furs.

"It will take two or three days to get everything together, you can pitch your tents in this area."

Styr said.

He was secretly amazed at the black axe tribe's ability to get food and make clothing, Theen was the largest and most organized group of men this side of the great wall, and yet they were far behind the black axe tribe.

Styr had realized that the wagons Oswin unloaded were not half as many as he had brought, concluding that he would negotiate with tribes other than the Thenn.

The camp was set up, and half a hundred tents surrounded the fortress. The party still had wood left, so they lit fires in various parts of the camp.

They roasted partridges and salted meat, Styr provided a sheep for them to eat, and thus fulfilled the old customs of hospitality.

In front of the largest tent, Oswin and Styr sat and chatted.

Surrounding them were Wymond, Zafar, and Sigorn, Styr's son, who was about the same age as Blake looked, Sigorn sported big black hair, and though he tried to look fierce in front of the black axe tribe, he was handsome, small, gray-eyed boy.

"Hopefully another storm won't hit and set us back even further, we lost the guide who would take us to the giants, and we need to get back to the tribe."

Oswin folded his arms as he said, losing old Lopt was a real problem, as they would have to find another guide from the fortress city, and Lopt was the one who knew the way best, so the journey would be more dangerous now.

"Do you plan to trade with the giants?"

Styr asked, and Oswin told him of his intentions to go towards the lands of eternal winter.

"I do not recommend it, in those lands there is nothing but death. Our men have made expeditions a few times throughout history, and no one has returned. It would be a shame to lose a good friend by being taken by the others."

Styr told him.

"The others... That's exactly what we're going to look for."

Oswin took a drink of goat's milk, responding to Styr and gaining the attention of everyone at the campfire.

Styr looked at Oswin for a few seconds.

"If so, I've never seen a man as smart as you march to his death so willingly."

Oswin gave a laugh, but his men made no gesture to follow their Magnar's laughter, and several of their gazes were lost, thinking of where they were going.

"If we are successful, we will pass this way again, you might want to march along with the black axe tribe south of the great wall when you see what we will be looking for."

Styr furrowed his eyebrows at the comment.

The Thenn had never left the valley where they lived they had never seen the great wall, but from the way Owin spoke it was clear that something was up.

"Tell me, what evil so afflicts the black axe tribe as to make them want to abandon their ancestral homes."

Since Oswin's last visit to Thenn, Styr considered him a good friend, and someone worthy of being called Magnar, so he asked him sincerely.

"Have you ever seen the others, Magnar of Thenn?"

"There have been stories passed down through the generations among the Thenn, many have said they have seen them, they say they are almost invisible to the eye, that their voices sound like ice when it breaks, that they ride dead Mammoths and carry ice swords capable of cutting through any armor."

Oswin glanced at Styr, answering him as he looked him in the eye.

"I have seen them, I fought and killed one of them when it was about to take Blake."

Everyone's gaze fell on Blake, who was standing a bit away from the campfire as he made clothes from the skins of the animals he had hunted during the journey. He didn't have all of his tools, but he brought enough to repair the broken regalia during the march and it wouldn't be hard for him to work with.

Blake looked up, glancing at them in response, and continued working on the regalia, it was not his time to intervene in his father's talk.

"The tribal witch offered him to the others, and I was just in time to assassinate her and save him, but I was too late, the others cursed him."

Oswin looked into the flames of the campfire.

"The others are as real as you and I, and soon, they will leave the lands of eternal winter to invade the territory of men, at that time, for those who remain north of the great wall only death awaits."

Styr looked down processing Oswin's words, it wasn't that he didn't believe him, but what he said sounded too unbelievable to be true, he almost thought Oswin was mocking him.

"I have another gift I wish to offer to the Magnar of Thenn so that he will remember my words."

Oswin pulled a sword from the tent.

The hilt was wood and leather, the guard was bronze and the pommel was a ring of ivory, it was nearly six feet long, and the sheath was black leather, Styr noticed that the sheath was weeping water.

Oswin drew the sword, revealing a translucent crystal blade, which seemed to gleam in the last rays of the day's sun.

"You said the others use ice swords, how about this sword?"

Styr briefly hesitated to hold the sword when Oswin offered it to him, for if it was a simple ice sword, he might fall into embarrassment at the sight of his men, who were already frowning at the behavior of the Magnar of the black axe tribe. Something seemed odd to Styr though, as he had been sitting outside the tent for a couple of hours, and if the sword was real ice, it would have melted by now

"Don't worry, it's not just a piece of ice."

Oswin pulled out another bronze sword, handing it to Wymond, who held it up immediately.

"Look at this."

"Crack!"

Oswin clashed the ice sword against the bronze sword in Wymond's hands, and everyone watched as the bronze sword shattered into fragments before the onslaught of the ice sword.

Sigorn reached over to take one of the fragments of the bronze sword, incredulous at what he had just seen.

"Mark my words, Magnar of Thenn, if you decide too late and the black axe tribe is already on the other side of the great wall, your people will suffer the consequences."

Oswin put the sword away in the sheath, offering it to Styr, who, looking again at the pieces of bronze on the floor, took it in his hands.