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Third Day of Christmas: Estrith

Today is the second day I’ve spent in one of Canute’s room. You’d think he’ve snuck into my room, or talk to me, but nope. Yesterday he was out in that wretched cheese barn before the sun was up with a mug of cider, worked until midday, came inside wearing nothing but his smallclothes, drank another mug of cider and then I watched him steal a double handful of Hoigo’s oats much to even the horse’s shock and then scarf it down before returning to the barn giving the hecking horde of merchants a show with their cheese.

I take a moment away from my daydreaming to focus on braising the pork neck on the top half of the dutch oven. Jan told me that his favorite food when he was learning trade was braised pork neck with carrots, onions, chives, and a sort of dumpling that Krystanya is making. I turn around to see Jan reading that treatise on “how to cheddar cheese” he found on the bookshelf. I turn back to the pork sizzling over the fire, the deep red, aged meat sizzling in its juices and butter just like Ma taught me. The meat pops a bit sending a few drops of grease onto my apron adding to the mosaic of grease stains on the tight woolen weave. It’s odd how neither Ma nor Pa were against me dragging my hope chest here, but Krystanya something similar with her, and next to mine. Bounding out of her room Mrs. Koborg rolls a massive bathtub out of the room.

“Once the two of you finished prepping the stew, come and help me set the bathtub on the rack outside, as a reward I’ll let you two have a hot bath and I’ll throw that cheese squirrel in there with you two” She half leers Krystanya and I.

Krystanya’s tail thwacks into the air in either frustration or amusement. I can’t tell what’s going on with that woman, one moment she’s lost in la-la land the next moment she’s stamping hooves like she’s two seconds from boiling over. Perhaps its just travel stresses wearing off. At least that’s what I’ll tell myself.

I wonder how the inn is doing? I hope Ma and Pa are handling the crowd well. I return to mindlessly braising the pork neck.

After the stew is readied, which is long enough for Jan to go back to sleep and wake up again. The lazy git. Mrs. Koborg returned to her room just after moving out the bath and then went back to bed. Lieddi, the reindeer girl is outside “observing” Canute’s cheese moving adventures. I should see what she’s up to.

With that thought now in my head I move towards the coatrack where my winter coat is and venture out into a landscape of snow and ice on hooves. The first step onto the frozen ground is fine. Second step I feel some give and the third doesn’t take. It never does, but I’ve learned how to balance myself on one hoof ever since pa told me that folks with hooves will always slip on a certain step, and after you figure it out you ought to balance it out. I swing my slipped foot down into the frosted ground, cracking it with a crunch and securing me solid. After my display of hoofwork, I continue on my way now with the blessing of Saint Eligius.

The path around the house is well-trodden by Canute and the small yet never ceasing stream of merchants coming to buy mannerhouse, that “cheddared” english-style cheese, and the cheese loved by all Danes, Havarti. I can feel a slight burning in my chest as I get nearer to the open gates where Paul is standing in his mail shirt and helmet from his days in the navy with a sizable club and the typical round shield of marines.

“Mornin’ Estrith, I take it you’re here to look at the goods, or good in you case.” He chuckles

“I came out here to tell him the stew is on and a bath ‘ill soon be drawn” I say careful to make sure I tell no lies.

“Regardless have you seen Lieddi? She’s been out all day.” I ask

Paul’s chuckle breaks into a full laugh. “Seen her? More than you know my fair maiden.” He says throwing his head back with laughter.

I feel my nose pale and chest heat more. “What do you mean by that?!” I demand, losing my temperament.

Paul looks considering at something in the barn for a moment.

“Well it out ya oOoOold seaman.” I demand catching a moo.

“Wait a second more Estrith, you’ll love it.” He says with a lecherous smile and the sort of tone you’d expect to hear from a heckler.

Entering my view is Canute, every muscle on his back seeming to burst under the strain a wheel of mannerhouse as wide as a wagon wheel and as tall as a proper dagger. He’s not even wearing his small clothes and the barn is freezing, Then following him, with a small crate of havarti loaves, huffing under the comparatively light weight. I’ve tried to lift one of those mannerhouse wheels and it requires Harald and Fot to haul up the stairs, but I can take a crate of havarti but it is a struggle.

“Aye Paul, where was that Settiner fellow? I can’t really see his wagon.” He groans.

In a moment a gosling boy rushes out from the awning on the side of the barn with a small sleigh. “S-Set it down ‘ere Master Koberg.” The boy asks.

Canute drops the wheel of cheese onto the toy-like sleigh and the it sends the runners and their support flying in either way. I jump up to avoid them and Paul drops his shield. Out from the awning runs two more geesemen one with something of a feathered beard dropping from his face and one that’s wearing one of those stupid german caps.

The bearded one turns to the younger. “What were ya doin’ Burchard? You were supposed to have the cargo sled ready?” He demands smacking the back of younger-looking goose.

Canute stands there before the three geesemen, sweating in the ice and snow like he’s fresh out of a sauna. “I hope I ain’t done nothin’ wrong.” He says.

“Nothin’ nothin’ at all Master Canute.” The eldest goose says handing a coin purse to paul.

“Any more orders?” Canute calls into the empty snow laden field as if he can’t see.

“No more Canute, the last four merchants decided they’d be back tomorrow, they didn’t want you working too much, not without a son yet anyways.” Paul says in rather serious tone.

Canute just laughs and falls into the snow. Out from the barn runs out Lieddi, chasing after the leaving geese with their crate of havarti. “Master Rothaven, you forgot your havarti!” She calls having the man called Burchard relieve her of the crate. She then struts next to Canute and falls breast-first across his stomach.

“Good work Lieddi, I haven’t yet met a woman who’s been able to keep even-half pace with me until you showed up.” He praises giving her a pat with his free right arm right on her rump.

I can feel that heat in my chest roar into a fire. “Afternoon Canute.” I announce forcing my finest hospitality smile onto my face.

“It’s afternoon?!” He frantically asks Lieddi getting her nose out the snow to look just as shocked as he with wide eyes and ears that seemingly grew legs with how straight they’re standing.

“Yeah Krystanya and I have been working on what Jan says is your favorite stew, the polish one with braised pork neck, carrots, onions, dumplings, and herbs.” I answer a tad too snappily.

“Anyways, I wanted- needed to know if you wanted a bath? Your mother is asking and says you reek of cheese.” I inform

“I’d love a bath!” He cheers, grabbing Lieddi by the thigh and arm and swings her over his head like a hunter does a deer.

AND THEN SHE FLUSTERS LIKE ANY OTHER HOOVEN GIRL AND GETS THE EYES OF A LUSTFUL MAIDEN ABOUT HER. GAH. What is it with Canute, he makes my heart flutter, he makes Krystanya’s heart flutter and now he’s got a Sami girl’s heart fluttering. I swear- I think this man’s got either a curse or a blessing on him that makes any proper hooven girl go tails up when they see him. First I ought to give up my room at home now I ought to fight over a man in my own town with a Pole and a Sami. I stamp my hoof and give a proper huff to the who thing.

“You mind pointin’ me towards the bath?” He asks like he hasn’t a naked girl hung over his shoulder like proper trophy hunt.

“We haven’t yet taken the bathtub outside the house, Canute.” I lament, hoping I don’t have to see his excited smile fade.

He just nods. “No matter, I can lend you a hand with that, you and Krystanya can join me if you want.” He offers his smile not changing.

Part of me hates that his smile didn’t change and offered Krystanya. The other is excited because I haven’t had a proper bath with Canute since he left under Jan’s wing. “I think Krystanya and I have got it.” I say before rushing back to the house, stamping my hoof on the the third step like always in winter.

I swing open the door and am greeted by a now unamused Mrs. Hosten. “Close the door Estrith or are finally taking the bath out?” She demands.

“I’m takin’ the bath out, Krystanya can you led me hand and hoof for it?” I ask in rush.

“Yeah sure!” Krystanya beams with her heavy Polish accent.

As soon as she rushes over to the large wooden tub she leans in across it with her long neck. “So you find Lieddi and are we getting some time alone with Canute?” She whispers.

“Lieddi was helping him in the barn, eyes like a fawn and following him like a puppy. As for time alone, yes.” I hushedly snap.

The two of us tilt the thing on its side and roll it onto out into the snow. Mrs. Koborg slamming the door with a curse to send us on our way. “AND NEXT TIME CRACK THE DOOR LIKE CANUTE!” She shouts through the window.

Krystanya’s serious face twists into a wicked grin. “I wouldn’t worry about Canute doin’ anything sinful' Estrith, but between the two of us, we might have a third rope tugging on that man.” She says.

My nose heats and ears go cold with those words. She’s known about the contest? How? How long? “You knew?” I stammer.

Krystanya lets out a whinny-like laugh like horses do when they find something funny. “Wh-wh-wait, you thought I didn't know!” she laughs.

“N-no I didn’t” I confess.

Krystanya just shakes her head while my ears go hot. “Estrith, I consider you a friend, and I accept that Canute is cursed to have women with hooves love him. You should’ve seen how he was when he and Jan went to cater the Mayor of Warsaw’s Christmast feast. You had the Abbess, two duchesses, and a score of local craftsmen and merchant’s daughters pinching, poking, and trying to get him alone and he didn’t give an inch. If there’s two virtues Canute possesses its the patience if not the chastity of a saint.” She remarks, huffing in obvious frustration at the word chastity.

“Sounds like a priest would’ve grabbed him by the scruff of his neck a forced him into a seminary for that!’ I giggle.

“Oh believe me they tried it took half the merchants, the mayor, and those same counts to get us out of town and not not come back until he was wed or a bishop.” Krystanya laughs. “For me, learning you had your wits about you was the best thing I ever learned upon returning-” She stops suddenly and stares at something above me. “What was that?” She mumbles.

“What is something wrong?” I ask.

“I think I saw a krasnal. Either that or a blue mouse.” Krystanya answers.

“It's probably a mouse that got into the Lomand’s dyes. It's a winter game since they always forget about one barrel of powdered dye” I answer. It's not the first time I’ve seen an oddly colored mouse, last year there were red ones, the year before yellow, and before that green mice because every single year the Lomand’s forget to secure a barrel of dye.

Krystanya shrugs. “Alright, now let’s move this tub under the awning by the barn and then we’ll pester Mrs. Koborg for a heating pot.” She declares.

“Oh, before Erik left he built an old pot into a contraption that allows anyone really to lift and pour the water. It’s in the back of the stable.” I reply.

“I know Erik left to be a soldier but I heard of an Italian engineer taking a young norseman under his wing when I was last in Prague.” Krystanya mentions offhandedly.

“Wouldn’t surprise men, he loved castles and joined the army for a while, after that he up and vanished like Sywen.” I scoff

“Poor boy’s vanished, no rumors about a zealot of a Dane in Germany, but he could be in Livonia, Spain, or the Holy Land.” Krystanya replies.

“Eh he’s probably dead.” I say, even if the truth of the matter is uncomfortable.

“Maybe but I’ve seen stranger folks in faraway lands. I’ve seen a Saracen in Hamburg selling pork and an Irishman in Marienburg who swore off drink.” Krystanya offers earnestly.

I shrug. “Let's move this bath already.” I proclaim.

Between the two of us the iron-bound tub is easily moved through the snow. I stamp my hoof at the third step and Krystanya at her ninth. The heavy tub rolls easily enough through the snow passing Paul eating cheese inside the cheese barn while Canute laying back down in the snow and Lieddi laying on top of Canute this time with her breasts pressed against him. Worse still he’s scratching her head.

I kiss, I hug, I offer a yes if he’d only ask for my hand, but this Sami girl he met two days ago is the one he decides to be most handsy with and lying in the snow in the nude. Gah. Irksome. I turn to Krystanya on our side of the tub. Her eye is twitching but her tail is swaying like she’s pleased. There is something off though, Canute is rarely this friendly with women of any age he doesn’t know, not that I’ve seen. Wasn’t he standing with her earlier?

Krystanya starts angrily muttering in polish after we move ourselves and the tub beneath the awning. “Now, Estrith, would you mind showing me that water heater thing?” She says in the most annoyed tone I’ve heard yet.

“Sure. Follow. I’ll probably even need a hand.” I say not hiding my frustration either.

The two of us stalk. STALK. Past Canute and Lieddi, I get a better look at Canute who doesn’t seem to be moving much at all. Actually he might be sleeping, it wouldn’t be the first time I caught him sleeping in the snow after a day of moving cheese though usually his mother would drag him like a corpse back inside before dark. Still doesn’t excuse him rolling in the snow with her earlier, or why she’s laying on him now.

The two of us find the water heating contraption in the back of Hoigo’s stable like I expected. Hoigo gets some scratches from the both of us and a scoop of oats from me for the one Canute stole so unceremoniously earlier today. The thing is actually mounted to hand-wagon wheels and I’m able to haul it out on my own while Krystanya finds a bucket for heating the water.

As I pass Canute and Lieddi again I realize he is actually asleep while Lieddi just observes him like a curiosity. I refused the notion of a longing lover in Lieddi if not for anyone else’s sake than my own. Krystanya returns from the house with a massive bronze pot with ERIK stamped into the side. The two of us go over to the well by the pasture and by the bucketload fill the pot with water. Once done we set a fire and set the water to heat. It takes maybe an hour and the sun starts to set by the time the four pots boil and cool enough to sit in. Mrs. Koborg brings us the soap and a tent that Lieddi sets up over the pot of hot water. Lieddi vanishes again only to be found carrying Canute into the tent. Eventually, everything’s ready and Jan and Mrs. Koborg brings out a warming pot of the stew and a heating iron full of hot coals.

Canute finally wakes up just before Krystanya and I are about to strip. He turns around, looking at the tent and stew and bath. “Did I freeze to death or something?” He asks before moving at all.

“What makes you think that?” I ask a bit too quickly.

“Well Estrith I’m surrounded by my two, now three favorite women, one in nothing, and two in their small clothes. Not to mention Jan’s favorite stew, and a hot bath in a tent. If I move and I’m not sore to the bone I’ll know I lived a good life.” He exclaims proudly.

He tries to get up, winces. Tries again, groans, winces, and falls back down. Deciding not to watch him fail again I get up grab his hand and bring him to his feet with a huff of exertion.

“Nope you're not dead yet Canute.” I scold.

I lean closer to his face. By the heavens he reeks of cheese and sweat, and I give him a peck on the lips before pushing him straight into the bath with a chunk of soap that smells of rosemary, juniper, and sage. A far cry from the kiss I wanted to give him. With a sigh I untie my breast wrap letting the lasses breathe for the first time today. Afterwards I rid myself of those accursed woolen hoses finally being free in the nude.

“My goodness Estrith, you’ve got breasts for three babes!” Krystanya exclaims as she rids herself of her own hosen, revealing powerful, well curved legs obscured by the shortest fur I’ve ever seen on a hooven girl.

“You’ve got well shaped legs Krystanya.” I return in kind.

Lieddi, already being naked edges her way into the hot water. “Am I supposed to go in here.” She asks Canute.

I take one stride over to where Lieddie is figuring out a bath, take a step into the hot water and drag her down with me. I find myself plopped right on Canute’s lap while Lieddi rubs her hot-water soaked coat against his shoulder. I can feel heat in my chest, and ears while my nose feels cold enough that ice should be forming on it. Krystanya elegantly steps into the tub, letting herself down on Canute’s right and lays her left arm on his shoulder and her right on my midsection.

From where I’m sitting I take a good look of the women next to me. Of my competition. Krystanya is perhaps a half-foot taller than me and of similar height to Canute, with muscular lower body and overall a well-shaped petite body with fist-sized breasts that don’t extend past her horsen snout. Her brown fur, with black hair and cuffs both ankle and wrist with the smallest bit of white fur at the edge of her hands and ankles. Her deep golden yellow eyes have an exotic allure about her contrasting with her familiar form and manners. Lieddi by contrast is a menagerie of browns, tans, and beiges. Her neck down to her breasts and abdomen and I assume leading down to her womb or even intimacy is all a light beige color. A band of lighter brown takes her face and outlines the beige and expands, I think to the thighs, while it fades into a dark brown speckled with tan and light brown dots. She’s beautiful in a natural sense, where Krystanya and I are like a farm at harvest or a beautiful store in our senses of beauty, she’s more like the forest on a mountain-

“HEY IT'S ONE OF THOSE BLUE MICE!” Krystanya shouts pointing at what very much seems to be a blue mouse at the entrance to the tent. Except I think I saw it scatter on two feet. Odd, but I’ve heard weirder.

After a while the smell of cheese and sweat comes off of Canute as the three of us women have to go about cleaning him properly since he’s too sore to move. I can’t help but think at this rate one of us will think “he’s too cold and wet so we need to drain his wet humor with heat. Oh I know I’ll use my hand for friction and get some semen out since he probably can’t handle bloodletting. Father Ulf told us that unwed man often experience build ups of wet humors by not expelling it.”

I go back to scrubbing and Krystanya is staring at me. Lieddi is giggling. Canute is as still and hard as a stone. “Oh I said that aloud didn’t I?” I ask.

Krystanya’s horsen face nods. Lieddi answers with the oddest noise I’ve ever heard, and Canute begins to laugh, wince, and laugh again.

“Well go then Estrith! Relieve his humors!” Krystanya challenges.

“No!” I protest. “Not in the bath anyways.” I mutter.

“I’d do it!” Lieddi asks. “But haven’t a clue how yous’d go about “extracting” semen.” the reindeer admits.

“...give me the strength to turn from sin oh father who ‘art in heav’n…” I can hear Canute praying.

And I can hear giggling from outside the tent that sounds like a mouse-sized man snickering.