[The British Isles, Wessex , March of 793]
"We have arrived, my lord. Welcome to Fulford," said Athelstan.
William looked past him. Village? That was generous. What he saw was a scatter of huts, a few ragged fields, and more mud than earth. He doubted the place could feed itself, let alone him.
"Tell me, Athelstan, I carry no coin. Is there anywhere here I might find food, Or work enough to earn it?" William asked.
"My lord," Athelstan replied, bowing his head, "we would be honored to share our home with you. Humble as it is, you shall not go hungry." Alder, standing beside him, nodded quickly in agreement.
William laughed "Careful, then. I can eat more than your field can grow."
"Nonsense, my lord," Alder said. "To host you is no burden, but a blessing." Food could always be grown again, crops re-sown and harvested anew , But the chance to win a lord's good graces might not come again in ten lifetimes.
William shifted his gaze. "And what of you, little lady? Am I welcome at your hearth, or must I beg elsewhere?" he asked, trying to catch a glimpse of the girl still perched on him like he was her warhorse.
Edith flushed crimson. No one had ever spoken to her so directly, and certainly not like that. She managed out a shy, "Yes," and lowered her eyes. That was enough. They all turned toward one of the cottages.
Of course, William's arrival had not gone unnoticed. Village life was nothing but monotony: wake, pray, toil in the fields, serve the lord's hall, tend the livestock, sleep, and repeat.
The only breaks came from the occasional merchant who came to barter. A visitor like this , whatever he was was no passing peddler.
William and his company stopped before one of the huts , A rectangular of timber and thatch, no more than four or five meters long, three wide.
Athelstan raised his voice. "Hilda! Open the door, dear. We have returned… and we brought a guest with us."
There was a pause and then the shuffle of feet inside. Then the door-lintel creaked, and a woman appeared, apron in hand, eyes darting at once to the armed figure before her. She stiffened, dipped her head, and pulled the door wider ,"My lord," she murmured, voice small, "you are welcome to our hearth, such as it is."
She did not meet his gaze again. Instead she turned inward, retreating with the practiced swiftness of one who knew her place, leaving the way clear for her husband and the guest he had brought.
William ducked beneath the low lintel and stepped inside. The place was little more than a single smoky chamber, half cave, half shelter. A hearth burned in the center, its thin column of smoke crawling upward to escape through the thatch. The air stung his eyes , a mix of woodsmoke, damp earth, and the sharp smell of animals.
Goats shifted in the back, tethered near the wall; a pair of hens scratched in the dirt floor, clucking irritably at the intrusion. A piglet nosed about by the hearth, squealing when Alder nudged it aside with his boot.
Four walls to keep out the wind, and a roof to keep off the rain. Yet to its owners, it was the world entire.
Athelstan cleared his throat, "Hilda , see to the fire. And." he hesitated, then set his jaw, "take two of the hens. We'll make a meal worthy of our guest."
The woman's eyes flicked up for a heartbeat, wide with the cost of the order. Two chickens were no small gift. But she only bowed her head, gathered her apron tighter, and went to the corner where a wicker pen held the family's few birds. The children followed, whispering with excitement, as she bent to snatch up the squawking fowl.
He sat for a moment, helm still on, warhammer across his knees. Then he gave a short laugh. "Ah… where are my manners?"
With a steady motion he lifted the helmet free and set it on the floor. white hair fell loose around his face, and when he raised his head, eyes of clear purple caught the firelight.
He leaned forward, setting the warhammer down beside him. Its weight thudded against the packed earth.
The silence stretched until Alder cleared his throat. "Forgive us, my lord," he said, almost stumbling over the words. "It is only… we have never seen hair so pale. Nor eyes of such color. Not in all our days."
William's smile deepened, though it never touched his eyes. "Strange to you, perhaps. But where I come from, such things are common. Among my people, you would not give me a second glance."
Alder leaned forward despite himself. "And where is that, my lord?"
William let the question hang a moment, then answered softly, "Far. So far you could walk ten lifetimes and still not reach it."