A short elderly woman emerges from one of the doors and flinches when seeing me. She warmly greets me in Svealandr tongue. “Välkommen främling! Vad kan jag hjälpa dig med?” (Welcome stranger! What can I do for you?) She is obviously good people, “I’m only here to seek the service of Lord Eyvisl and to rest my horse. May I sleep in the stables?” She responds to my Angle”s tongue with no accent at all. “You are welcome here traveler, you need food, as does your horse. My name is Bodil, what is yours?”
A long day riding, my horse is exhausted & thirsty. I come upon a large great-hall made of stone. The dis-repaired thatched roof shows that there are stone shingles or tiles beneath. This is a fortress. The few windows are made for archers, not for sunlight. This looks like a family home though, Chickens scurry under foot, the goat shit stinks & the horses and sheep run free. Dogs run around the herds & flocks fending predators.