Iron Axe by Steven Harper

“Friend, you really need to go to the earl about Alfgeir.”
    â€œThe earl won’t listen to someone like me,” Danr said quietly, repeating his earlier thoughts. “And even if he did, what would it get me? Once my bond ends, I have nowhere to go. I don’t own land, and no one will hire a monster.”
    â€œDidn’t we already talk about this?” Talfi asked.
    â€œYou are no monster,” Aisa said at the same time. Hertone was sharp. Startled, Danr looked from one to the other, and it occurred to him that he was now entertaining two people in his—for lack of a better word—home. A slow flush crept over him, and he wished he had something better to offer them than the leftovers from the food Talfi’s foster mother had given him. Aisa was good and kind, and he was filled with a sudden desire to sit with her, put his arm around her, and feel her softness against him.
    â€œWhatever you might tell me,” he said gruffly, “
they
see me as inhuman, and it’s what they think that counts.”
    Talfi looked ready to object, then closed his mouth instead. Aisa just looked at him over her scarf. Not for the first time, he wished—even ached—to know her face.
    â€œTalfi told me of the injury to your leg,” Aisa said, changing the subject. “May I see?”
    Glad of the distraction, Danr drew his torn trouser leg up. Aisa leaned over it with the candle, and her closeness sent a small shiver over him.
    â€œThe cuts have scabbed over well,” she said. “I see no sign of infection, but that may not come for two or three days. Talfi, do you have strong ale in your bag?”
    Talfi handed over a clay bottle, and Aisa poured it over Danr’s leg. He winced as ants of pain scurried across his skin. From a pouch at her waist, Aisa took several dried leaves, mixed them with more ale, and applied them to some of the wounds.
    â€œThis will deaden pain and help block infection,” she said. “If you were anyone else, I would tell you to keep this leg warm for the next day or so, but I doubt Alfgeir will allow this. So I will only say that you should exercise care that you do not strain yourself. If it hurts, stop what you are doing.”
    â€œI heal fast,” Danr said gruffly. “You don’t have to worry.”
    â€œHmm.” Aisa sat back on her heels and pulled his trouser leg down. “You are welcome.”
    Danr flushed. “Thank you,” he blurted. “I know you usually charge for . . . I mean, I don’t have any money . . . that is, I don’t . . .”
    She held up a hand. “I will take my payment in the form of three extra guesses today.”
    â€œGuesses?” Talfi said.
    â€œOh . . . uh . . .” The flush deepened. This was the first time anyone else had ever heard of the name game, and he wasn’t sure what Talfi would think.
    â€œIs it Magnus?”
    â€œEr . . . no.”
    â€œWhat are you doing?” Talfi asked.
    â€œPerhaps Klaus?”
    Danr chewed a thumbnail, both pleased and embarrassed by her attentions. “No.”
    â€œIs it Hudl Knopfenstropfer?”
    A small smile snuck across his face. “Afraid not.”
    â€œWhat the Vik?” Talfi demanded.
    â€œHe won’t tell me his true name, so I am guessing,” Aisa said. “Perhaps you can help.”
    Light dawned on Talfi’s face. “Oh! I want to know, too. Is it Fred?”
    â€œYou don’t get to play,” Danr said shortly.
    â€œHmm. So, what now?” Talfi asked, to Danr’s relief.
    â€œThe village is holding a funeral for the Noss brothers tomorrow,” Aisa said. “At noon.”
    â€œI should probably stay away from that,” Danr said.
    â€œYou should not,” Talfi replied emphatically. “You should stand up front, show everyone you’re not afraid to be there. You certainly bought