Osiris and Isis Freed from Seth
Feast Night — Part 5
The boastful laughter of men who had just found victory and the clinking of mead fills the hall tonight. These are not the average men of the castle’s normal evening attire. These are warriors who are drinking their fill of the castle’s best stock, usually only saved for the rarest of occasions. Keeping the mead running, the pouring girls walk up and down the tables. The men are full of the night’s festivities, pulling a pouring girl to their laps and burying their mustaches of mead into the firm pillows of the girls.
The curtains of the balcony are thrown back to reveal some approaching entertainment for the night. One woman comes forward. Her appearance is regarded as one of status, one that doesn’t seem to kneel easily. A high-born lady dressed in a long, flowing, fertile green with a long, narrow gold wreath on her forehead. Shoulders are draped with a brown fur cloak to shelter her from the bitter cold. The look of shutter shock shows the truth of her distaste for the actions of these men who have appeared tonight.
One man sits directly in the front middle of the feast, perched comfortably, poised on the throne. His attire is that of a Viking foreigner, an enemy to her father’s crown. Now he sits perched in a matter of moments, headstrong and determined to value every aspect that the castle has in store for him and his men. His eyes are watching, studying the actions of this woman who stands now in the middle of the room, facing him. Her very life depends on whether or not he is pleased with the fruit of his conquering. He rests with both elbows on the edges of the throne. Left hand near his mouth, consulting her very fate this night.
“Sir, I wish to welcome you and your men to my castle tonight. There is much mead and food to fill you and your men’s stomachs for the night. My ladies are pleased to satisfy your men well-fed, with all their appetites. If it pleases you, my lord, I would like to offer you a song from my childhood.”
“It would please me very much, my lady, you may begin,” he commands.
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The musicians begin to play from the right side of the room. Instruments pulled back on strings, to play a calm melody with a relaxing beat. Her voice from the depths of her heart, the room becomes very deadly silent. All tankards now held still, as the crisp, refreshing sound of her heartfelt song keeps every man in the room staring at her.
The warmth of her heart invites them to leave the tables of feasting and dance around her. Enjoyment is felt with the pitch of her song. Smiles now are lively and welcoming as the environment shifts from a raiding feast to a feast of open friendship. Even the man once pitched on the throne is smiling as he watches her perform.
When the music ends, the man on the throne guides her to the balcony where she entered. His board character leans against the balcony. She now knows him to be wider in the body mass than she first noticed. His appearance radiates with such a character that she is more than intrigued. The way he smiles at her, as if they have known each other a long time.
He pulls her forward with an arm around his waist, and his eyebrows wiggling up and down. “You are mine. You have always been mine.”
“Go upstairs and wait for me. I will be there shortly,” he commands.
The noble woman departs from the embrace of these strangers’ arms, that somehow carry the awkwardly familiar embrace of someone she once knew. Each step up the long, narrow stairs bends curving left around the tower. Gathered her long dress with clenched fist to make the steps.
The first door on the left is the only room in this tower. The warmth of the fireplace on the left wall still burns hot enough for the logs to crackle from the heat. Draped over the bed are furs of many sizeable beasts. The tower’s walls enclose the room with only one door to escape. Nervous about this man, she attempts to try to lock the room while shutting the door.
Inches from locking the door, the man walked in. “You weren’t about to lock me out, were you?” His voice is collective and calmly stern. Her alarms widen with shock and more anxiety. “What do you plan to do to me?”
“I plan to use what I have taken,” he admits with a mission. Her eyes widen, and her hands are at her hips. “What do you mean by ‘use what you have taken’?” determined to arrive at an answer by talking it out. “Exactly, what I have said. You are mine. My men and I have stormed your castle, and now I plan to take what already belongs to me, you, my beautiful wife.”
