Chapter 2 — Fair Winters, Harder Summers
I anticipate
the first spring gusts, ending
winter seclusion.
Though the shining wind
carries spring clouds, soon will come
summer’s fragrant breeze.
- A haiku common in the Særnt
Lord Sar did not dispose of Ækyl’s gift. It’s exterior beauty beguiled him, and over the ugly blade itself captivated him. It’s lumps and imperfections reminded him of the flawed lands he ruled over. He kept the blade close, hanging in his hall near to his throne.
Each year as the nights grow longer and harsher, the people of the Særnt retreat to the firesides of their longhouses to hibernate. That winter, the nights seemed blessedly forgiving and the usual seasonal sickness that accompanies the cold passed fleetingly.
The bitter, reliable snow never arrived. The farmers soon returned to their fields and a fruitful spring came early. To Lord Sar, a superstitious man, the blade became something of a good luck token, its scorch-marks a reminder of the sun’s gift of heat to his lands.
The summer brought with it a rich harvest, and the people of the Særnt prospered. But the Særnt’s northern neighbour, Bristhölm, was not so lucky — their winter had been far harder than usual and they had not adequately prepared.
Though the usual snow never arrived, they endured near constant rainfall, which soaked deep into the Bristhölm soil until it could take not a drop more. Yet the rain continued, eroding farmland and washing away paths trodden for hundreds of years. The sodden land struggled to recover, and the summer’s harvest was poor.
By Autumn, hungry and desperate villagers bordering the Særnt were venturing across the border in search of the food they lacked. When the villagers there would not aid them, they took what they could by force.
When news of the fighting arrived at the hall of Lord Sar, he rallied his noblemen and troops and took the road north, leaving his eldest son, Lorest, to rule in his stead. Skirmishes with the marauding northerners went smoothly, with Sar’s men easily dispatching the poorly armed invaders. The scorched blade by his side, Sar felt blissfully confident.
