***By the Tenth Century, the peoples of Northern Scotland, the Faeroes, Orkneys and Shetland Islands all found their ways of speaking being supplanted by a language that is today known as Old Norse. The more southerly groups regionalized this even more with what is now known as Norn, a rather insular variant which is now extinct other than as a flavoring in the language they use today.
As the Witcher's Daughter and her friends head out onto the road again, they run into a pair who even manage to add a little of a Gaelic flavoring to that.
It's likely not correct, but that's how I hear them.
0_o
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It had taken another full day to get much more out of him. During that time, Cuilén sometimes appeared to be a little catatonic. He spent the rest of the night weeping softly and during that time, Louhi and Annikki never left him, just holding him if they could and often crying themselves from the intense feelings which came to them from him. Later on, he just sat in silence, looking into space with only his occasional blinks, his breathing, and the almost-continual tears which ran from his eyes.
He was not totally unresponsive later on. Cuilén would look if spoken to and his answers to questions were most often only silent nods or slow shakes of his head. But it was the early afternoon before he would speak in much more than monosyllables.
Before then, however, Louhi had gone to pay for another night and the extra cost and even a little more once she'd learned that Cuilén had a horse. She asked to be shown which one and that was when the innkeeper had tried for a little more coin out of her, saying that it was required because of the brushing of the animal because he was so large.
Louhi had looked, "This one?"
She pointed again then, wanting no misunderstanding, "This horse here?"
The man nodded, knowing that sticking to his guns this way often spelled the difference between a fee and an even bigger fee. But he found himself being backed up against the back end of someone else's horse on the other side of the aisle then.
"That animal has not seen a brush in several days," Louhi snarled as she pointed back, "He has no water, and I see no feed for him. He stands with his saddle still on him. How do you brush a saddled horse? What is it that you charge for, the shade or your stories?"
The animal behind the innkeeper decided that the presence of someone back there was not wanted and the kick which came an instant later left the man groaning on his face.
But it didn't get the angry woman out of his hair.
"I will pay your fettling fee, but no more and when I come back in an hour, that animal will stand there brushed, fettled and fed - and there had better be fresh water in front of him, innkeeper."
The serving woman from the night before watched from the doorway and though she and the innkeeper were married, they weren't married to each other, not that it had stopped anything between them. So she felt a little justified in wanting to storm out then to deal with the woman's demands herself.
And she found herself in a pile of shit then – in a literal sense.
She hadn't seen the dropping that she must have slipped on, though she'd held up her hem as she'd come out into the stables in a bit of bluster. All the same, she now sat in the scraped-together pile which had not been removed yet that day. Louhi said nothing; she only smirked as she walked out.
She found Cuilén looking uncomfortable and wanting to push Annikki away when she returned. "I want nothing now," he said, "You are so lovely to me, but I, ..."
Louhi knelt and placed her hand on his shoulder, "Not all loving is only fucking, Cuilén. You know this yourself, or you would not have been so high in your wife's view. I see what Nikki seeks to give to you."
She leaned down and kissed his forehead for a moment and then she sat back on her knees again. "Nikki is a little close in size to the one that you grieve for. She wishes to know what that one looked like and she wants to give comfort in a way that she can. She knows that she cannot be Gretta, but I see that she wishes to be as Gretta to you for this time. Allow her this, if it is in you, and I think that it could help a little."
Louhi ate a little of what remained and then she changed her clothes, almost knowing what she would find when she returned to the stables.
When she returned, Louhi saw a more contented animal who wore no saddle, had been brushed and was now watered and fed. But there was a new issue then.
"When I last looked, there was a sword in a scabbard tied to the saddle and I see none there now where the saddle hangs over that rail. Unless you know ways of some strong magic, I would say that it has been taken. I want it. Please give it to me. I do not think that you would want to have to explain anything else to the man that you sent to us. Or am I wrong?"
The innkeeper looked to be about ready to panic. He looked around a little frantically and then he ran to the doorway which led to a bit of a paddock and beckoned for Louhi to come there.
She saw the stableboy there, looking to be engaged in trying to practise a little swordplay against an imaginary foe of some kind. It might have looked a little impressive to some, she thought, particularly the girl who stood watching him.
But a stablehand playing at something with a sword is most likely to only result in damage to the sword or the man and while a stablehand might sometimes need to use a sword in his defense now and then, it wasn't the same thing as being proficient with the thing at all. As well, most swords - even the ones belonging to Northmen - tend to vary a little in length between 33 and 36 inches long and weigh in at rather close to two and one-half pounds.
What this lad was swinging around looked to be somewhat longer and by his motions and the way that he most often swung it only once, seemed to have difficulty in stopping the swing, and never practised a reversal told Louhi that the blade likely weighed considerably more.
"Set that down," she said, "it is not yours and if it is harmed, you will work a long time to repay your master for what he would need to pay me for the ruined blade."
The young man spun around and dropped the blade in his surprise at being caught doing something other than working. Louhi rolled her eyes and stepped out to retrieve the blade as the man stared at her.
Picking it up, she noticed that it was indeed heavier and that the crosspiece of the guard was not the simple welded bar slotted to fit over the tang, but was bent in a U-shape with the points facing the tip. She was a little more surprised to see that the tips were sharpened themselves. Whoever Cuilén had killed to get the weapon must have been a fairly large man and one who had a fair bit of strength and skill – or fancied himself to have had.
Her eyes fell to the edges and she felt a brief want in herself to hurt this fool for damaging the thing. If he'd tried to hack at a piece of wood, ...
But then she noticed that the nicks were old and the thought left her.
"You should not touch what does not belong to you," she said, "it will hurt your master's business if the patrons feel that their belongings are not safe in his care." She placed the point against the ground to get the length and then she swung it overhand once with a whoosh that left the blade as a semicircular blur as it came around.
The man backed away, but she smiled at him, "It is a little long for me and too heavy for you."
"It's not too heavy," he said, "I –"
"It is not too heavy to swing once," she said, the smile remaining, "but now you speak as a man who feels a little insult when I meant nothing of the kind. You were playing at sword work and from it I saw that you rarely if ever get to touch a blade. If you spent any time at sword work, you would not want to play at it much. You might have strength, but not in your wrists and arms from swinging a long blade, friend. And sword work is a grisly business and often goes on and on long after you would stop to rest. Where is the scabbard?"
He pointed and the young woman held it up, "Here," she said.
Louhi walked over and as she took it, she smiled into the brown eyes of the girl, "Do not wish that he was any good at this if you care for him. Wish only that he finds the chance to be good enough at it to keep himself and you safe if he holds your heart at all."
The young woman looked down, blushing furiously and Louhi chuckled, "I might have hit a tender place there. Are you together?"
"No," she girl whispered, "but, ..."
"Then I will not make him feel any more foolish," Louhi grinned a little as she turned away and walked back to the stablehand.
"If you have the want to know more, then you might seek out either an armorer if this place has one, or ask at the town guard, if there is one of those. But I think that your time would serve you better to do your work and then work at something sweeter with the girl there, friend."
She walked away, stopping only to threaten the innkeeper if she heard too much noise over the lad wasting his time. "A stableboy works better if he does not feel ill-used. I think that he only wanted to try and no harm has been done while he showed off a little."