Yrsa III
Yrsa walked to Gorm’s blacksmith shop with a small pale of eggs. Once she had finished her chores, Papa told her to bring the eggs to Gorm and offer to help around the blacksmith’s shop for the rest of the afternoon. She didn’t need Papa’s instruction; she would’ve offered to help Gorm regardless.
She found the blacksmith sweeping his shop. He set down his broom and smiled, walking over to greet her. But their conversation never started. Yrsa spun around at the call of her name. Harry ran toward her, panting. He seemed panicked.
“Arne,” Harry doubled over, catching his breath. “Have you…seen Arne?”
“Yeah,” Yrsa replied. “What’s up? You alright?” Harry shook his head.
“Strangers,” he stood upright now, still fighting for air. Running wasn’t a strength of Harry’s. “Strangers in the tavern.”
Yrsa’s focus shifted down the road now. The townie boys were walking their way. The cobbler’s stupid son, Rickard, pointed at Harry. “There’s the needle dick!” He shouted. Gorm walked out from the blacksmith shop now, surprising the group of boys.
Yrsa shouted back at them, waving a fist. “You want your face caved in, chickenshit?”
“Yrsa,” Harry grabbed her attention, whispering. “We need to go.”
“What’s the problem, now?” Gorm looked from Yrsa and Harry to the townie boys. Stupid Rickard smiled like he was proud of himself.
“Strangers in town lookin’ for that bard- there’s a whole gold coin reward.” Rickard pointed at Harry. “I bet they’ll gimme a copper piece for the inbred.” The townie boys snickered. Rickard ran off, and his gang of half-wits followed.
“Get back here, chickenshit!” Gorm caught Yrsa before she could run after them.
“Yrsa,” Gorm said. He looked serious.
“It’s a mob!” Harry blurted. “They have weapons! They wanna take Arne to prison!”
“The magic,” Yrsa realized. Gorm looked confused. “Arne got run out of Water Town for using magic. They must’ve followed him.”
Gorm grumbled, looking thoughtful. “The Movement.”
“That’s what Arne called them!” Yrsa remembered as soon as Gorm said it.
Gorm got low to look her right in the eyes. He never did that. The severity of his face filled Yrsa with dread. “Listen, child.” He looked at Harry. “You too. Go home. Run. Now. Tell Papa what happened. And then go. Take Arne and all his stuff with you. Grab some food and warm clothes. Run into the woods until the sun’s down. Wait a few hours, then light a fire. We’ll come get you when it’s safe.” Gorm stood up. “Say it back to me. What are you going to do?”
Yrsa felt like a child for a moment. Gorm looked at her expectantly. She should be remembering. “Go home. Tell Papa.” Gorm nodded. “Grab food, run into the woods.”
“Arne and warm clothes,” Harry added.
“Grab Arne and warm clothes.” Yrsa continued. “Run until the sun sets. Wait before starting a fire.”
Gorm unbuckled his belt and slid his dagger’s sheath off of it. He handed the dagger to Yrsa hilt first. “If someone stops you: run first. Talk second. Fight only when it is your last option. Repeat. Quickly!”
Yrsa took the dagger and gulped. “Run, talk, fight last.”
“Go!” Gorm urged them. “I’ll buy you some time. But go quickly! Don’t waste a second!”
…
Yrsa burst into her home. Papa and Arne sat at the table talking.
“Woah! Where’s the fire?” Papa asked.
“The Movement’s at the tavern looking for Arne!” Yrsa grabbed her jacket off the post by the door. “Gorm said we should run into the woods!”
Harry huffed and puffed, repeating a mantra: “Food! Warm clothes! Fire!”
Arne’s face went pale. “By Queen’s desire,” he whispered. “They’ve found me.”
“Not yet,” Yrsa replied, moving to the kitchen.
Her Papa was a gentle soul. He was the kindest person Yrsa knew. When she brought Arne home, Papa welcomed him like family. Papa moved slowly and laughed easily. He was always trying to get Yrsa to calm down. But when Harry asked to borrow a coat, something changed in Papa.
“Yes, yes, of course.” Yrsa saw Papa stand and sweep around the table quicker than she’d ever seen him move. “Beans!” He said. “The jars of beans, Yrsa!” She realized she had been staring at the food jars. Her brain had stopped moving. She knew she had to move quickly but couldn’t figure out which jar to grab. “Beans!” It snapped her awake again, and she grabbed a jar from the shelf.
“All your stuff,” Harry told Arne. “Gorm said everything.” Arne snapped a finger.
“Like I wasn’t here! That Gorm!” He shook his head and ran upstairs for his traveling sack.
Yrsa held her coat in one hand and a jar of beans in the other. Harry had one of Papa’s coats and showed Yrsa the flint in his hand.
“The back,” Papa said. “Out the back.” He shooed them. Arne caught up with them outside, holding his lute case and traveling sack. “Take the game trail south,” Papa spun her around to lock eyes. “Follow the river West. Don’t camp too close, but make sure you can hear it wherever you end up.”
“Papa, you’re coming with us.” They had to move; they were wasting a lot of time. Papa shook his head.
“I’ll only slow you down. I’ll help throw them off your scent. Go now!”
“I’m not leaving you,” Yrsa grew angry.
“I cannot run, child,” Papa raised his voice, his face tightening. The first time he had scolded her. He relaxed slightly. “They won’t hurt me. I’ll be fine. I can talk and buy you time. Let me do this. A man needs to be useful!” He embraced her now, hugging her tightly.
Yrsa was embarrassed at the emotion she felt. Her throat burned. Things just happened so quickly. She hugged Papa and nodded, holding the emotion back from her face.
“Now go! I’ll see you soon!”
Previous Chapter: https://therealzsmith.com/2023/03/17/resistance-chapter-10/
Next Chapter: https://therealzsmith.com/2023/03/31/resistance-chapter-12/
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