Day 27: Sealed Fate

Long were the nights when sir Wilfred rode over the frozen plains of Brauðblóðsokkur, and long did those plains stretch out. Bands of undulating lights spanned the night sky with a mix of rose and green, and green and rose, so fluid that its blinking became indistinguishable from its coiling motions.
So narrow and so winding were the roads of these lands, that sir Wilfred couldn’t tell whether he were travelling them or not, and hadn’t inadvertantly trailed one of the many shallow ditches that sprung up naturally from beneath all the sheets of snow.

Sir Wilfred cursed the name of his lord Dirkguster with every misty white breath. Of course it had seemed as such a noble endeavour when it was just words. Spreading the reach of the Order’s religion, even to remote places. Give room to settlers who wished to make an impact on the world.
Rumours circulated of a hidden road discovered at Ronrike, evidently maintained by whoever traversed it. It led from the shores of Nystiga Lake to an unknown destination in the south. And lord Dirkguster heard destiny.

There was only one problem. Nobody wanted to actually visit those desolate wastelands. Not the clergy. Not any skilled workers. And certainly not Sir Wilfred himself. The only ones who actually went there were outcasts and reformed criminals. Anyone would be better anywhere other than where they were.
But of course, if Dirkguster was to administer the land, then he would have to send someone to take census a little now and again.
And for that, of course, Sir Wilfred was the one who had to suffer. His manor and his family he left behind, to go alone on this reckless trip. At least he had no wife to leave behind, though he was scarcely going to find one out there.

To his left, the brackish sea glistened from the light of the burning skyband. Large ice sheets crawled up along the sandy banks and floated along the still surface as unpleasant reminders of why Sir Wilfred could not make the trip by sail.
To the right, amber glowing in the distance clustered the oppressive darkness over the patches of short dirt-coloured grass which speckled the treeless plains.
Those were torchlights. Well, it seemed he wouldn’t have to spend the entire night riding.

He stroked the black mane of his beloved mare, whispering into her ear, “Easy there, girl. Looks like you will get to rest tonight.”
The brown horse grunted as he steered her towards the lights, leading his second white mare by the reins of his off hand.
Some wayward goats on the lookout for an evening snack shot the traveller some curious gazes as he passed, even from the one goat who had found purchase upon a large tapered stone overlooking the rest of that patch of the plains.
As unsettling as the gaze of those only semi-domesticated beasts were, they did confirm that it was in fact a settlement he was approaching.

Indeed, he found the torches. Fixed atop tall poles from where they illuminated the cluster of stone houses with wooden roofs steep enough to nearly reach the ground. When he approached the hamlet, he dismounted and led his mares on foot, looking for the nearest villager who could offer him assistance.
But no such person was found. Throughout the hamlet, there was not a single soul to be seen. His unsettling feeling increased the more he looked for them, without finding anything.

He did hear people. It came from the village center. It sounded like rabble. The animated masses chanting in unison.
As he approached, he was able to discern what they were crying:
“Burn! Burn! Burn!”

Wilfred wanted to run there immediately, but he couldn't well lead the horses to that bloodhtirsty mob, or whatever had excited them. He found a safe spot for them . The post of a stave-fence, which he tied them to. He then hurried towards the center.
His hauberk rang out with each step towards the swarm of torches gathered at the heart of the tiny village. The brutal song of the horde called out for their malformed idea of justice.

“STOP!”
Wilfred called out.

They did stop. The villagers turned towards him. Most of them, he was surprised to find out, were women.
“Stop whatever you are doing this instance! Have you lost your minds?” He ran to the very center, around where they gathered.
“Sir Knight! We captured a monster!” One of the women shouted, followed by the angry rabble raising their torches and their pitchforks in triumph as they cheered for her declaration, “We were about to see to her undoing!”

Sir Wilfred had rode in battle against many an army that employed monsters. Most of them hardly qualified as proud warriors, but amongst their ranks were those which he respected more than any human fighter. It did not sit well with him to allow one to be executed without a chance to defend herself.
But when he approached, what he saw made him even more confused and upset.
“This… This is just a normal human.”
“Or… Is she!?”
The rabble cried out in bloodlust.

“Yes. Look at her. That’s obviously a costume.” He points at an obvious seam, “Look, you can even see a button.”
The woman tied to the stakes had indeed been outfitted with a thick ‘mermaid tail’ costume of grey fur. Because of that, her bottom half rather resembled a seal. But she wasn’t overcome with despair or terror. Just annoyed.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell them.” She said with a grunt.

“Don’t listen to her lies!” The same woman shouted, followed by the rabble, “She’s a monster, all right! A selkie! A hideous monstrosity who drapes herself in beast fur when swimming in the sea! But, she can wander on land too by shedding the disguise and walk like any woman!”
The rabble ignited in vibrant shouts, emboldened by that explanation, which was both satisfactory and comprehensive.

“Hang on! Hang on! Hang on!” The knight cried, “So you are telling me she is a monster.”
“Yes!”
“Because she looks like a woman?”
“Yes!”
“And that she dresses in fur?”
“Yes!”
The crowd roared once again.

“Hey! Stop it!” The knight shouted, raising his arm, “How do you tell her apart from any woman dressed in fur?”
The crowd went silent, but a red-haired woman stepped up, “Why would a woman wear fur if it makes us think she’s a monster?”
The crowd thundered in triumph again.
The knight took his helmet off to scratch his head. What they said did make sense, but…
“They dressed me up like this!” The woman in the stakes cried.
“No we didn’t!” The red-haired woman from before shouted, followed by the rabble again.
“Hang on again!” The knight cried, “Did you or did you not dress her up like this?”
“Of-of course not!”
“Well, it’s just …” Sir Wilfred started, “Earlier you said, the selkie only dresses in fur while in water, right?”
“Yeah!” The rabble shouted as one.
“And is she in the water now?”
“No! Yes! No! No! No! Yes! Yes…!”
The red haired woman had to step in and calm down the crowd.
“No. She isn’t.”
“But she is wearing the fur?” The knight pointed at her with his open palm.
“Well…”
He stepped up, “Did you or did you not dress her up like this?”
“...We might have done the tail.”
“The tail?”

“And the furry top.” One of the women admitted.
“Uh huh…” Sir Wilfred folded his arm.
“Look, sir… I appreciate the effort.” Said a blonde woman, “But we already built the stakes here. You got any idea how hard those things are to set up?”

“Yeah! And I lit up my torch!” A woman with brown hair tied to a plait pointed at her burning torch, “These things don’t grow on trees, you know?”
“Well… They can.” Her friend corrected her.
“Oh yes. Sure, they can.” She admitted with a nod, “But they shouldn’t!”
The rabble masses nodded in unison with that.

“So you see, it’d be a shame to go to bed tonight without burning even a single person!”
“Yeah! I mean, just because we orchestrated this, it’s not like she couldn’t be a monster!”
The knight pinched the ridge of her nose.
“By the Chief God… Look, she should at least have a trial.”
The crowd grumbled between itself confused, “Trial? How come? What’s that about?”

“Just some kind of test to determine if she’s a monster or not. Think about it. Would you really want to burn every woman you can’t prove is a monster.”
“Yeah!!” The crowd burst out, shouting in approval.

“Now, now!” The blonde woman stepped up and waved her arms, “He’s got a point there! If we did that, then there’s no one left to burn all the monsters!”
“Thank you!” Sir Wilfred sighed. Not the direction he wished this to go exactly, but at least they got the gist of it.
“So… How do you tell if she’s a selkie?”

That brought sir Wilfred to a pause. It really was the question, wasn’t it? If all that distinguished a selkie from a human was her outfit, then without the outfit you really wasn’t able to tell them apart at all. Sir Wilfred had never heard of the selkie before. Was it just something the villagers made up to justify their arbitrary bloodlust?
Maybe he could just make up whatever test, and let the poor girl be on her way.

But before he could speak, a woman with a headdress stepped up.
“If I may, I believe that I have devised a way most cunning to tell a selkie apart from a human.”
Wilfred got a bad feeling from that. He could interpret it like these ladies finally coming to their senses. But based on what he had seen so far, he wasn’t holding his breath.