The Play Rite. Chapter two.

Josefine woke with a start. Her forehead was sweaty and her head was pounding like one of the old tribes’ war drums. She tried to remember her dream. After the ceremony she had come down here and, when she couldn’t find Viviane anywhere, went to sleep. She had dreamed about a ship. A great big ship with everyone she’d ever loved on board (she hadn’t recognized the people, just the feeling). The boat had left before she could get on it. Get to her mother.

This was the first time Josefine had ever dreamt about her mother. Josefine’s mother had died only a few days after she was born. Viviane had taken care of her since and, no matter how much she had asked as a child, she wouldn’t tell Josefine anything about her mother. Sooner or later she had stopped asking.

Alfred’s head ached. He had drunk far too much mead last night. He was about to get up when he realized that there was a girl in his bed. Again. Her hair was blond this time and she was thin, but he could hardly see why he had chosen her last night. She was no great beauty, to say the least. His eyes rolled down her back and then he gave her a little shove. She woke up, arms flailing, and then sat up. She looked at him, blushed, and kissed him. He sat there and waited. Once she realized that he was sitting there, not kissing her back and, quite frankly, not reacting at all, she slapped him hard on the face, grabbed her clothes, and slapped him again. This was a normal reaction to his cruelty. Alfred knew that it was a horrible thing to do, but he didn’t really care. He wasn’t getting married anytime soon, for he enjoyed being single far too much. Why should he get married? He had no children- that he knew of- and more than enough time to make some.