Sinric the Wanderer

"How large is that fire?" Ragnar asks. "And I can't imagine it would replace ordinary home fires. What is it good for, then?"

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"Not everyone", Childermass points out, "can afford firewood, or has trees they have a right to cut down."

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Sinric laughs softly and shakes his head. "It is set in the forecourt of the grand arena. There any man may come and warm himself and be fed, or be given food for his family. Even in the coldest months, while the fire burns, no man need be without hope."

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"Oh," Ragnar says, "that is a very good custom!"

He scratches his beard.

"I should do something like that, in Kattegat."

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"That is the town you have charge of?" He nods. "Every place has poor and needy."

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"It was started by my Lord's grandfather and a tradition I hope his son will maintain." Sadly, he has very little conviction Leo cares for the people well enough for that.

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Ragnar nods, scratching his beard and pondering.

"Yes," he just says.

One can positively see him thinking.

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"If his son does not want to risk an uprising, he will. The people do not take kindly to traditions being taken away, still less when it might leave them starving."

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Sinric snorts dismissively and shakes his head. "Leo doesn't value the care of the people."

He turns to watch Ragnar's expression, watch the gears turning behind his eyes. "It might be harder for a small village. Much of the food and fuel is paid for donation and small taxes on the arena but I guess you would have less people who might need feeding."

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"And only the people who really need it would come," Ragnar says. "While making sure there is no shame attached to it. Bringing food in and distributing it has worked well in this bad winter."

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"Then Leo is a fool", Childermass says bluntly. "Do you have the means to buy food?"

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Sinric has no answer to Childermass' very correct statement but to sip his drink and lean a little into Ragnar for comfort.

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Ragnar puts his arm around him, holding him affectionately by his side.

"I have the means," Ragnar says, "just not the food to buy, at the moment. I've been bringing in supplies from Milliways, secretly, the last times I was here, and will do so again this time."

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He nods. "The supply never runs out, though I suppose you must be careful if it is not widely known you come here."

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"As must we all." Sinric is deeply grateful for the embrace. "I fear I would be burned for witchcraft if it was known a slip away to a magical place between the worlds."

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"I think," Ragnar says, "half of my men would demand that I bring them so we can raid other worlds."

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"And that would be impossible, as I understand it. Unless someone opened their world to you for the raiding."

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Sinric covers his mouth to stiffle a giggle. "I could just imagine them trying to raid the palace. Half of them would be offered places in the garrison before nightfall."

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"Well," Ragnar says, "somebody might open the door to their world right where their enemies are?"

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"...if they could pull that off", Childermass allows, "it would be a fine revenge. But it might get out of their control."

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"And a fierce surprise to their enemies. I have heard to be Varangian berserkers are as terrible as the Celts of England before the fall of Rome."

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Ragnar nods. "You should see my brother fight," he says. "Where he's been, nothing will grow again. And it would be so inexplicable to their enemies' allies -- oh, surprise Vikings appeared, destroyed and took everything, and disappeared again."

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"Unless they declined to leave. What loyalty would they have to their - employer, for lack of a better word?"

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"The Varangian have always served my lord with honour and loyalty. But he has always taken pains to return that loyalty and reward service."

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