test drive / milliways

[gods_that_haunt_me]

A tall, lanky man, seemingly made up entirely of long lines and angles, wanders into the bar through the back door.

He's been out all day, exploring the forest. Listening to the trees.

(They were quite talkative.)

The waitrats scatter as he crosses the room. They probably don't like the hatchet tucked into his belt. Or the knife. Or the sword.

He snickers at their fright. He's harmless! Really!

(No, he isn't.)

"Lady Bar, a cup of mead, if you please," he says in Old Norse. A horn cup appears, and he takes a swig.

Comments

[athelstanthescribe]

"Why do you do anything?" he asks quietly. "Nobody can predict you."

[gods_that_haunt_me]

Floki lets out one of his familiar snickers.

"You are wrong about many things, priest, but in this, you are right."

[athelstanthescribe]

He nods and changes the subject, opting for a polite question because he doesn't really want to provoke Floki.

"How do you find the place?"

[gods_that_haunt_me]

"I like it," he declares, accepting the subject change.

"There is no shortage of food and drink. Like Ragnar's hall, except without the pretty servant girls."

[athelstanthescribe]

"No human servers at all that I've seen", he agrees, "except for one hour each night. But plenty of pretty girls."

...what, he has eyes. More than that, he's not admitting.

[gods_that_haunt_me]

Floki has eyes, too, but he also has Helga. Who, incidentally, has eyes as well. He would never begrudge her that, as long as it isn't behind his back.

But Athelstan? Well, he just left himself wide open with that one.

"Oh, so you are not a eunuch after all?"

[athelstanthescribe]

"That", Athelstan says with dignity, "has never been general practice for monks. We're supposed to exert self-control, not have it forced on us."

[gods_that_haunt_me]

"Why not simply cut off the source of your troubles instead of making it so difficult for yourselves?"

[athelstanthescribe]

"Because it isn't meant to be easy", is the simple answer. "Think of it as a kind of sacrifice."

[gods_that_haunt_me]

"But you can sacrifice your balls. That is a legitimate sacrifice, to be sure!"

[athelstanthescribe]

"A single legitimate sacrifice. A monk must devote his life to the service of God, and the requirement to deny the urges of the body - all of them, for we should eat and drink only what we need to live - and to remain... intact... makes that continued denial more difficult to maintain."

[gods_that_haunt_me]

Floki rolls his eyes and utters a dismissive noise and waves an equally dismissive hand at him.

"It is a cruel and unnatural thing for you to deny yourself essential pleasures. Your god must really want you to be miserable."

[athelstanthescribe]

"Suffering of body strengthens the spirit", he says, but it sounds even to him like a rote response.

[gods_that_haunt_me]

"Suffering of body makes one an irritable asshole," Floki retorts.

[athelstanthescribe]

"Perhaps for some." He shrugs. "Some brothers take it further and mortify themselves."

[gods_that_haunt_me]

"There, you see?" he scoffs. "More misery. It is always misery with you Christians. Even the wine you use in your ceremonies tastes like piss."

[athelstanthescribe]

"That's because it's cheap", he says dryly, with a touch of humour and no denial whatsoever. "It wouldn't be fit for a king's table, that I know."

[gods_that_haunt_me]

"Yet in your temples, you hoard such extravagant riches! Could you not spare a few more coins to get the good wine?"

Because really!

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan shrugs.

"That was never my decision. But the gold and riches were there for the glory of God - like that beautiful building at Uppsala, for your gods."