4 Years later
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In the year 850 AD, a warm breeze swept through the lush greenery, enveloping the village of Faxe with the promise of spring. The morning air was alive with the sound of birdsong, and the vibrant hues of wildflowers danced across the rolling hills.
The sun, its rays bathing the world in golden warmth, peeked through the clouds, illuminating the humble homesteads dotting the grassy plain. It was now summer for Rollo.
On this warm and sunny day, the inhabitants of Faxe were engaged in a variety of activities. Children frolicked and played, while their parents tended to the crops and livestock. A sense of peace and contentment pervaded the landscape, as the village basked in the bounty of the harvest season.
In the centre of the village, the sounds of laughter and merrymaking echoed, as the villagers enjoyed a rare moment of leisure. Rollo peered up to his father
"I want to play with the other children papa," he said, his eyes pleading.
"Alright Rollo but you have to make sure to not cause any trouble"
With his father's permission, Rollo darted off into the sunlight, eager to join his friends.
They were all older than himself by a few years but were similar in height. He looked on as they played a game, one that involved pushing each other to the ground and then running away.
"Hey! Let me play too!" Rollo called out.
"What, are you gonna cry if we say no?" one of the boys sneered.
"No, I'm not," Rollo replied defiantly, puffing out his chest.
"Yeah, you're a crybaby!" another boy chimed in, causing the others to snicker.
"I'm not a crybaby," Rollo insisted. "Come on, let me play."
One of the boys, who seemed to be the leader of the group, came up close towards him. He ruffled his blonde hair making it messy, his green eyes were staring at him with an intent look.
"We don't want to hurt the chiefs only son" the boy said, his words laced with mockery.
The others all agreed, laughing at the statement.
Rollo, his green eyes sparkling, tried to stand his ground, his small frame trembling slightly.
"My Dad is a great warrior, he will beat you up and give your fathers a hard time"
"Haha, he can't do anything to me because my Dad is also a great warrior," the boy said, puffing out his chest.
Rollo's fist clenched, he could feel the anger boiling up inside him. He was not a crybaby, and he could not let them treat him like that. He had to show them that he was tough and brave. Quickly he swung his fist, trying to impale it into the boys face.
"AHHH, HE PUNCHED ME!" the boy yelled, his hand holding his cheek.
Kettil hearing this commotion came rushing towards the group of children. He had been busy talking to the elders, he was planning an expedition.
"What is going on here, who hurt who?" Kettil said, looking at the group.
Seeing that Rollo's hand was stained by the blood from the boys nose he could tell he was guilty.
"Boy, come with me now" he grabbed Rollo by his shirt and pulled him away from the other kids.
Kettil had always been strict with his son, ever since he was born he had been groomed to become a great chief. He wanted him to learn the ways of a great Norseman.
Once far away from the others, he pushed Rollo to the ground.
"Boy, what have I told you about getting into fights. You're supposed to be a future chief, not a street brawler."
Rollo, his bottom lip trembling, tried to meet his father's gaze.
"But they disrespected me, they called me a crybaby"
Kettil looked at his son, his eyes were burning with a fiery determination. He had to be firm, but also show him that he could trust him.
"Well, sometimes you need to use words, not your fists. Remember, a wise man is never afraid to speak his mind."
Rollo's gaze fell to the ground, the weight of his father's words sinking in. He was right, he should have tried to use his words instead of fighting.
"Yes, father, I'm sorry," he said quietly.
Kettil could see the remorse in his son's eyes, the same green eyes that his wife Sigred has.
"Alright, boy, get up," he said, his voice softer.
"You may not have learned the lessons that I wanted to teach you today, but you will soon," he said, as he helped Rollo back onto his feet.
"We will go out into the forest to forage for some berries and herbs, I will let you know which ones are good or if it's poisonous or not"
Kettil had an idea that once his son learns the ways of the woods, he will become one step closer in becoming a man
"Now, go wash yourself up and get ready," Kettil said.
Rollo's face lit up with excitement, his earlier misfortune forgotten.
"Yes, father!"
As the evening approached, the sun cast a golden glow over the rolling hills. The warm light danced across the lush greenery, enveloping the peaceful village of Faxe in its radiance.
Deep in the woods, the faint rustling of leaves could be heard, as a small figure made its way through the underbrush.
Rollo, his green eyes glinting with a youthful exuberance, followed closely behind his father.
"Remember, boy, we are not hunting today. We are simply foraging for herbs and berries," Kettil reminded his son.
Rollo nodded, his mind focused on the task at hand. It was his first time trying to differentiate the plants that he saw his father pick and the ones that he wouldn't dare touch.
The two continued their exploration, the sun's rays illuminating their path.
As they walked, Kettil would occasionally stop to show Rollo a particular plant or berry, explaining its uses and how to tell if it was safe to eat.
He also taught him that when he's out in the forest, he must be cautious. The forest was home to many dangerous creatures, and a single misstep could mean the difference between life and death.
"But, Papa, what if I see a bear?" Rollo asked, his voice trembling slightly.
"Well, if you see a bear, you must be quiet and do not run. The bear will most likely leave you alone if you do not bother it," Kettil replied.
"But what if it doesn't leave me alone?" Rollo asked, his eyes wide with fear.
"Then you must stand your ground and fight. Remember, Rollo, as a Norseman, you must always be brave."
Rollo nodded, the weight of his father's words sinking in.He knew that he needed to be brave, to show the other children that he was not a crybaby.
"I will be brave, Papa," he said, his voice filled with conviction.
Kettil smiled, his eyes filled with pride. His son was a strong boy, and he knew that he would grow up to be a great man one day.
As the sun began to set, casting a fiery glow across the horizon, the two made their way back to the village. The forest, now bathed in a crimson light, was a sight to behold.
"Papa, did I do well?" Rollo asked, his gaze fixed on the sunset.
"You did very well, boy," Kettil replied, his hand ruffling his son's hair
On the dirt path back towards their house, Rollo was eager to tell his mother how his day went. She had always been kind and supportive, and he knew that she would be proud of him too.
"I can't wait to tell Mama," he said, his voice brimming with excitement.
Kettil nodded, his mind deep in thought. He knew that his son was growing up fast, and that he would soon have to be taught the ways of the world.
"Boy, listen to me when I say this. The world is not always a kind place. There will be times when you will be tested, and you will have to make tough decisions. But remember, you must always remain true to yourself, and you must always follow your heart," Kettil said, his gaze fixed on the horizon.
Rollo nodded, the weight of his father's words sinking in. He knew that he would have to be strong, and that he would have to face many challenges in his life.
But he also knew that, as long as he had his family by his side, he could overcome anything.
"Thank you, Papa," Rollo said, his green eyes filled with resolve.
"You're welcome, boy," Kettil said, his voice filled with pride.
They entered their home, and Sigred was waiting for them. She could see the exhaustion on Rollo's face, but his eyes were shining with excitement.
"What happened today?" Sigred asked.
"Oh, Mama, Papa took me to the woods to learn which plants are good to eat, and I learned so much," Rollo exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement.
"He's growing up so fast, Kettil," she said, her eyes brimming with tears.
"Yes, he is," Kettil replied, his hand resting on Rollo's shoulder.
"Time for dinner than, the stew is ready," Sigred said, stirring the contents of the pot.
Rollo, his stomach rumbling, quickly sat down at the table. He eagerly grabbed his spoon, his mouth watering in anticipation.
As the stew was served, the aroma of spices and herbs permeated the air. Rollo took a bite, the taste of the warm broth sending a wave of satisfaction through his body.
"This is delicious, Mama!" he exclaimed, his face beaming with delight.
Sigred smiled, her heart filled with happiness at the sight of her son enjoying his meal.
"Eat up, there is plenty more," she said, her eyes shining with love.
After eating for a while Rollo was building up the confidence to try to convince his father
"When will I be able to learn sword fighting like you and the other warriors? I want to be a great warrior too."
The question caught Kettil off guard, he wasn't prepared to answer it so soon. He wanted to say that it will be a long time before he will be able to hold a weapon.
"When your bigger, you have to be at least twelve winters old first" he said, hoping that would be the end of the conversation.
"But, Papa, I want to be strong like you," Rollo said, his green eyes pleading.
Sigred, sensing the tension between father and her son, placed a comforting hand on Kettil's arm.
"He's just a boy, Kettil, he doesn't know what he's saying," she said, her voice gentle.
"All right, I'll try to find a small wooden sword for yo to play with first, before I can give you a real one. But for now you need to keep learning about the forest, herbs, food and plants. You first have to be a man, learn how to survive on land and water" Kettil said, a compromise he decided upon on.