Chapter Fifty-six *NEW*

Having been at the manor for a few days tending to the new livestock and maintaining the homestead, Gaalin found himself sheltered indoors for the night as a roaring storm shook the floorboards of the manor. The dark clouds came rolling in, casting thick shadows on the foliage surrounding the manor: erasing the skies that just shortly earlier were such a vibrant blue. With the ominous cloud cover, lightning sparked from Thor's hammer against his anvil, and rumbling thunder echoed from his strikes.

Upon watching the storm come closer, retreating indoors proved to be the best option. So now, he stood beside a window and peered out into the early evening storm. Watching the trees bend against the strong winds, the wooden shutters on the barn and manor fluttering against the wooden walls. Heavy raindrops struck the ground, forming concave puddles in the soil, each one threatening to join to ultimately flood the manor.

Amongst the dire looking clouds, the quaking thunder, the monstrous wind, fell balls of ice that pinged off the roof. Covering the ground in mock snow before melting away and joining the pools of water. Gaalin sighed, running his hands over his face at the sight of the destructive storm. At the sight of frightened animals stampeding within their paddocks, the strong gusts of wind threatening to lift their home from the ground, come morning he knew work would need to be done once more.

His attempt at sleep for the night was restless and unsettling, finding himself tossing and turning about on his bed and staring at the flicking light against the ceiling of his room. Thor worked hard throughout the night, the sound of his mighty hammer clamoring away, spiking curiosity in Gaalin of what the Aesir might be crafting tonight. Except the Aesir's work was keeping him from his own dreams, a sleepless night lost in interrupted thoughts.

Nights like this, nights that shook through him to his bones, were nights he knew Libelle hated the most. She had been gone for a longer time than he had expected, and he had been finding himself asking for the gods and goddesses to keep her safe. He wondered what she was doing atop the highest mountain with those annoying priests, especially on a night like this one.

These sorts of nights, when she was younger, he would wake to find her crawling into his bed. The storms would bring back her worst memories, and she would seek comfort at his side. He quite enjoyed those nights, when she would lift the covers and push herself up against his side, wrap his arm around her shoulder. Then, only then would she fall asleep on these types of nights.

As she grew older, more mature, she sought out his comfort less and less. Instead, she took to the comfort of a bottle. So, on nights like these, he would find her the following morning listless in her bedroom, typically limp on her bed and sometimes the floor. Bottles littering her room, and the stench of foul ale would linger on her until he forced her to bathe. She would usually growl at him like a feral creature until she sobered up enough to slightly tolerate the sound of his voice. Tonight, he would experience neither of those.

Yet the morning came swiftly, faster than he had hoped as he was able to sleep only very little. So, when the morning sunlight peered through his window, he glowered at the vibrant rays that promised him a full day of work. The storm had passed, and the rain had ceased, yet he knew with how the storm will was throughout the night there was bound to be required repairs around the property.

He pushed himself upwards from his bed, stretching and yawning before dressing himself to withstand the early mornings cool temperatures. Snatching a half loaf of bread, he exited the front door from the manor and groaned in frustration at the sight of the immediate area. Tree limbs had snapped and fallen, an old oak appeared to have been struck by lightning and snapped in half, the weakest portion of it falling onto the fence line that contained the cattle. Boards from the barn had shaken loose, some completely flown from free from the nails that were supposed to hold them down.

Cattle were loose and he wondered how far they had roamed, seeing that some were wandering off into the forest. Thankful though he was that he had secured the newest arrivals within the barn. He would need to repair the paddock fence, round up the cattle, repair the barn, and clean up the downed lumber and chop it into logs for the fire. He had at least two full days work ahead of him, if not more.

Gaalin grumbled about the chores, although he proceeded to get to work. Clearing the downed trees, utilizing one of their horses to drag the large timbers with a harness. The horse pulled enough broken tree to work itself into a foamy sweat, and well into the midafternoon the pair dragged lumber into a large pile beside the workshop. There were still twigs and small timbers scattered about the yard, deep puddles that he periodically stumbled in. Yet finding the cattle and returning them to their paddock would be his next task, one that needed completion before night fell.

Finding them was a difficult chore, and he spent most of the remaining daylight riding through the forest finding one stray and then the next. They were damp, frightened and skittish, attempting to flee from his horse's presence whenever he got close. Two were not far off, a third appeared to have slipped down a steep hill and broke its leg and was bellowing out as it lay trapped at its base. The damned beast had to be slaughtered on the spot, and without gutting it and butchering it there: the meat was wasted. The final steer, proved stubborn and repeatedly charged his horse with its horns, trying to defer its capture. Creatures of habit though, it wanted to remain with its herd and eventually followed him.

The horse stepped carefully, walking on a loose rein to return to the manor's property with the cattle in front of it. The cattle continued to make noise as they continued up stone covered paths, periodically wandering off from his guidance, only to be lead back. Reaching the paddock took longer than he had anticipated, although what he found at his arrival was even more surprising.