[Image description: A person standing with their back to the camera in a flower-filled field. He wears a blue hood with a blue tunic and hose. On his back is a basket backpack.]
Daily life of Vikings
Picture by Sebastien “Myskia” Dusart
(Association viking de reconstitution historique Grävlingar - Lyon, France)
Manuscript Leaf with Initial P, from an Antiphonary, second quarter 15th century, Metropolitan Museum of Art: Medieval Art
Gift of Miss Alice M. Dike, in memory of her father, Henry A. Dike, 1928
Size: 20 3/16 x 14 15/16 in. (51.2 x 38 cm)
Medium: Tempera, ink, and metal leaf on parchment
Whatever heat of the day had long since disappeared with the sun. As a lone breeze swirled kitchen scraps off of trash heaps and rippled water in the gutters, a chill crept along the exposed flesh of Betony’s chest and hands. Its icy fingers clawed at her skirt, and she was thankful for the thicker wool of her winter hose.
“Could you walk a bit closer?” Betony asked, looking up to see Edwards familiar silhouette. He was the only bit of warmth she’d have until they reached cordwainer’s lane, and it was quite a walk from Thames and Harp.
Thankfully, Edward was a gentleman, when he chose. He stepped closer, and his hands reached up to his shoulder before pausing. “I’ve forgotten my cloak.”
total words: 2,005
a favorite section:
“Perhaps,” Edward stalked forward, his eyes meeting hers. “We can create a need for new wine.” Carefully, he reached over her shoulder to close the door of the cupboard behind her, and a smile flickered across his lips.
Betony’s heartbeat fluttered, and her face grew hot. “I couldn’t lie to my mother.”
“It’s not a lie,” Edward backed away from her space, “It’s…an adjusted truth. The wine we have is from the last season, which is hardly desirable for such esteemed guests. Especially when your household now stands in such a position of honor.”