Early morning. Alvin is in the Jarl's house.

There's a knock at the door and Alvin goes to open it.

Oskar is standing outside with a tray, laden with a bowl of porridge and a bowl of blueberries.

Alvin: Morning, Oskar. I can get that.

Alvin reaches for the tray, but Oskar pulls it back, frowning. Alvin shrugs and stand aside for Oskar to enter.

Oskar puts the food on the table and turns to leave.

Alvin: Hey, stay and have a bite with me. There's something I wanna ask you.

Oskar turns back, hovering uncertainly.

Alvin: Go sit. I'll get another bowl.

Oskar sits rigidly at the table, hands clasped in his lap.

Alvin returns to the table with a silver bowl and spoon from the Jarl's collection. He pours half the porridge into the silver bowl, adds some blueberries to both portions of porridge, and sets the silver bowl in front of Oskar. Oskar looks distressed.

Alvin: It's all right.

Oskar hesitates, takes the silver spoon, and eats a spoonful of porridge from the silver bowl. He lays the spoon in the bowl and looks at Alvin expectantly.

Alvin: So, uh...here's the thing. How would you feel about going home? I mean home to the Redhairs?

Oskar's jaw drops.

Oskar: Mama?

Alvin: Yes, to your mama.

Oskar's face lights up and he wriggles all over. Alvin grins.

Alvin: I'll take that as a yes. High five!

Alvin holds up his palm. Oskar has no idea how to respond. He looks around for some way to express his joy. He picks up the bowl of blueberries and dumps them all into Alvin's porridge.

§

Alvin, Solveig, Gorm, Sten and Erik are sitting around the table in the Jarl's house.

Alvin: Let's see...what else? Erik, how are the new goat pens coming?

Erik: One more to go.

Sten fold his arms and rolls his eyes, ostentatiously bored. Alvin notices, but ignores him.

Alvin: Great. Now just a couple more things -

Gorm: May I interrupt briefly?

Alvin: Sure.

Gorm takes a disc-shaped pebble from his pocket and places it on the table in front of Alvin. The image of a boar with an arrow sticking out of its back is scratched onto its surface.

Gorm: For your Task board. Congratulations.

Alvin darts a glance at Erik, then looks back to Gorm.

Alvin: Thanks. Moving on. Gorm, I had a great idea. One morning a week, I'd like you to teach the children to write.

Gorm cocks his head and considers.

Gorm: It might be better if Sten taught them to fight.

Alvin: To write. To inscribe runes. And read, of course.

Gorm: Teach children to write? All the children?

Alvin: Yes.

Gorm: Why on earth would I teach dozens of grubby little urchins the sacred runes, which Odin the All-Father sacrificed his eye to comprehend!

Sten: Ridiculous!

Alvin: Thanks, Sten. I can always count on you. Here's the thing. Writing is an important skill.

Gorm: For me, yes. For children, why, it's as pointless as... teaching goats to sing!

Alvin sighs.

Alvin: Look. What if you had to get a message to a faraway clan? You could write it down, and send it.

Gorm: Who would bring it?

Alvin: Anyone!

Gorm: Then they can just as easily speak the message!

Alvin's eyes narrow.

Alvin: What if you want to remember something for always? You could write it down.

Gorm: On a tablet?

Alvin: Yes!

Gorm: What if you forget where the tablet is?

Alvin rolls his eyes.

Alvin: I can see this is gonna take a while. Let's table this discussion until I get back.

Erik: Back from where?

Alvin: I want to make a journey to the Redhair clan.

Sten's eyebrows shoot upward. Alvin gives him a sour look.

Alvin: Let me guess. 'Ridiculous?'

Sten: No. It's the first sensible thing you've said since you got here. It's their turn to raid us, so they won't be expecting it. I'll gather the men. I think thirty should do it.

Alvin: Nope - no men. Only me. I'm just gonna bring Oskar home to his family.

Alvin watches storm clouds gather and break across Sten's face.

Sten: You're going to give back my father's slave?

Alvin: He's not your father's anymore.

Erik: You can't go to the Redhairs alone. You may as well fall on your own sword and save yourself the journey. It's suicide.

Sten: He's right. You'll never come back alive.

Sten considers what he's just said.

Sten: Tell me more.

Solveig: I'm going too, to show him the way.

Sten: What? You can't go with him! It's dangerous.

Solveig: Why should you care?

Sten hardens his expression.

Sten: I don't.

Gorm and Erik speak simultaneously.

Gorm: This is wonderful!

Erik: This is insane!

Gorm and Erik look at each other.

Gorm: To the Redhairs and back is about ten Vei. Perfect for your horse riding Task!

Erik looks at Alvin with concern.

Erik: You can't go. The Redhairs will slaughter you!

Alvin: You forget I'm married to a Redhair. They're my in-laws!

Solveig: And he's a fire demon.

Alvin: I'm not gonna lead with that. This is a peaceful mission.

Erik: What about the ride? Have you ever ridden a horse?

Alvin thinks.

Alvin: Once. No, twice! The first one might have been a pony, when I was seven.

Erik: Odin preserve you!

Alvin: Listen, how hard can it be? It's basically sitting. Anyway, I'm going. The Jarl has spoken.

§

Alvin and Solveig are standing at the edge of the village, just after dawn. Beside them on the ground are two pairs of plump saddlebags, and another long, skinny package.

Oskar, too excited to stand still, is hopping away on one leg. Solveig goes to retrieve him.

Erik walks up, looking grim, with a bow and a quiver of arrows strapped to his back.

Alvin: Erik, my man!

Alvin punches Erik lightly on the shoulder.

Erik: Are you really going through with this?

Alvin: Yep.

Erik: Where are your bow and arrows?

Alvin: Under my bed.

Erik shakes his head.

Erik: I really can't decide if you're a fool or a madman.

He gives his bow and quiver to Alvin.

Alvin: Probably both. Thanks.

They turn to watch Solveig and Oskar hopping hand-in-hand, giggling. Alvin grins.

Alvin: My god, the kid can laugh!

Erik: Al. Promise me you'll come back.

Alvin: Of course I will.

Alvin gives Erik a sidelong glance.

Alvin: Would you miss me if I didn't?

Erik: Well, I...don't want Sten as my Jarl.

They share a long look, which is interrupted when Sten walks up leading two saddled horses, a large brown one, and a smaller gray one.

Erik: That better not be some wild stallion fresh off the plains.

Sten: Of course not. It's a gelding. I wouldn't dream of giving him one of my stallions.

Erik examines the larger horse's hindquarters and gives a curt nod. He helps Alvin strap the provisions onto the two horses.

Solveig and Oskar hop over to them. Oskar goes quiet and somber at the sight of Sten. Sten speaks to Solveig.

Sten: You can both ride the mare. Do you need help mounting?

Solveig lifts her chin.

Solveig: Of course not.

Solveig laces her fingers and gives Oskar a leg-up into the saddle of the gray mare. She mounts behind him.

Alvin strokes the brown horse's mane.

Alvin: What's his name?

Sten looks disgusted.

Sten: It doesn't have a name.

Sten turns to Solveig.

Sten: It's best if you stick to the shoreline. Easier riding.

Solveig: I disagree. We'll go over the mountain. It's shorter, and we'll avoid the clans along the shore.

Sten looks annoyed, then shrugs.

Alvin tries to put his foot in the stirrup to mount. The horse swings away from him and whinnies. Alvin tries again. The horse dances away and starts nibbling some grass.

Sten grasps the horse's mane and yanks its head up, holding it tightly in place. He nods at Alvin.

Sten: Mount.

Looking alarmed, Alvin sticks his foot in the stirrup and swings up into the saddle.

Sten: You may need to remind this horse who's master.

Alvin: How?

Sten: Pain.

Sten hands Alvin a whip. Alvin is disconcerted. He sticks the whip in his belt.

Sten: Off you go.

Solveig clicks to her horse and the mare starts walking.

Alvin clicks to his horse. He leans forward. He bounces in his saddle. He flaps the reins. The horse is unimpressed.

Sten: Whip him.

Alvin: No!

Disgusted, Sten takes out his sword, and jabs the horse's hindquarters. The horse bolts after the mare.

Alvin pulls frantically at the reins, but the horse continues to gallop at a breakneck pace. As Alvin overtakes Solveig and Oskar on their mare, he hears Solveig yelling after him.

Solveig: Head for the mountain!

§

Alvin and his horse are working their way up the mountainside. Tired out after its mad gallop, the horse has slowed to a crawl.

Alvin hears hoofbeats behind him. Solveig and Oskar trot up to ride beside him.

Solveig: Al! You kept your seat. Thank the gods.

Alvin: And no thanks to Sten. Do you think he gave me this crazy horse on purpose?

Solveig: Very likely.

Alvin: Oskar, you all right, buddy?

Oskar nods and smiles.

Solveig: Maybe you should whip him a little, to bring him in line.

Alvin: Sten? Good idea.

Solveig laughs. Alvin smiles, then grows serious.

Alvin: I won't use the whip. I won't be cruel to animals. It's bad enough they have to carry us.

Solveig: But can you manage him? It's a three day journey each way. I wonder if we shouldn't turn back and switch horses.

Alvin: Nah. We've come this far. I bet I can make friends with him. And we've already got him going in this direction...

Solveig gestures to the long bundle strapped to Alvin's horse.

Solveig: What's in the package?

Alvin: My...fire sword.

Solveig: Oh! Will you tell them you're Surtur?

Alvin: No. It's just in case. Like I said, this is a peaceful mission. In fact, there's something I didn't tell Sten.

Solveig: What?

Alvin: I want to arrange a truce with the Redhairs. All this raiding and counter-raiding. It's crazy! Whatever they think they're gaining can't possibly be worth the death and misery. Everybody should just...stay home!

Solveig looks perplexed.

Alvin: Well? Don't you agree?

Solveig: Yeeees...

Alvin: But?

Solveig: Well...after too much quiet, the men, they get...bored. Worse than bored. Itchy. Twitchy. Battle-thirsty. And then they start fighting with each other and tormenting their own women.

Alvin: Well, that's just plain stupid. It's a stupid habit that I intend to break.

Solveig: All right.

Alvin: You'll help me? They're your people.

Solveig: I'll do what I can.

Alvin: Thanks.

They ride on in silence for a moment, then Alvin starts singing.

You see, I've been through the desert

On a horse with no name

It felt good to be out of the rain.

In the desert, you can remember your name

And there ain't no one for to give you no pain.

La la la la la la la la...

§

The sun sinks lower and the light fades. The ground begins to level off as the riders reach the mountaintop. Alvin, Solveig and Oskar ride single file through a black and ashy gray landscape.

Alvin: This place is creepy. Why is it so...dead?

Solveig: We're riding up the lava's path. The plants were scorched away.

Alvin: Shit, Solveig! I distinctly heard you say, 'Head for the mountain.' Not 'Head for the volcano.' Is it safe?

Solveig: It should be. It's been quiet for a few years. Look over to your left - there's a little bit of green.

Alvin looks left and sees some scrubby vegetation and a few stunted trees. As if following the direction of Alvin's gaze, his horse goes left, steps off the path and starts nibbling at a tiny bush. Solveig reins in her horse and stops.

Solveig: Al?

Alvin: Hey, horse. C'mon, horse.

Alvin pulls the reins to the right. The horse jerks its head to the left and continues farther off the path, in search of more greenery. It snorts.

Solveig speaks in a worried voice.

Solveig: Al, you've got to get him back on the path. There's a steep drop in that direction.

Alvin: Horse!

The horse starts off toward the mountainside with a determined pace, snorting angrily. Alvin yanks on the reins. The horse speeds its pace up to gallop, heading towards the sharply etched edge of the cliff.

Alvin: Horse!

Solveig: Al!