02x07 - Iron Fist Ketil

[bunniefuu]

There were two of them.

It must be them again.

Iron Fist Ketil

Their footprints do look similar.

Why'd this have to happen
while the master's gone?

What's the damage?

One bag of flour and some dried meat.

It's no use, boss.

They're all mixed up with
other footprints. I can't track them.

No matter.

They don't steal much,
but they've developed a taste for it.

Do they think we don't know, Snake?

Fine, then.
Sounds like they need to be punished.

What? That's incredible.

That means the old master likes you.

Does he?

Yes, he does.

Not only does he
lend you his tools and horse,

but he invited you to eat
at the same table with him.

He's just paying us back
for doing his chores.

We're slaves.

Normally, people don't pay us back.

Oh, right.

Now that you mention it,
I guess you're right.

That's right.

But why does he like us, then?

Huh? U-Uh...

I'm sorry.

Einar, you're a good person.

You just don't realize it yourself.

What? No, wait, but...

Einar, I'm heading out.

I'm not that special.

Huh? Oh, sure.

Is he trying to be considerate?

He's a good guy, too.
Doesn't talk much, though.

I know.

Arnheid!

Oh, no. It's the mistress.

Sorry for keeping you tied up.

Not at all.

I look forward to every morning
now that I have someone to talk to.

See you later.

See you tomorrow morning.

Yahoo!

She called me a good person.

I'm a good person!

How dare you stay out there chatting
when breakfast isn't even ready yet.

I'm sorry, mistress.

We don't keep you around for fun, you know.

You have to earn your keep.

Yes, mistress.

The master will be returning
from the thing today.

He might be bringing guests back with him,
so prepare accordingly.

I suppose an enslaved man would be
a good match for an enslaved woman.

Hey, they're sprouting.

These are wheat seedlings, Thorfinn.

They look so... feeble.

Do they always look like this?

Yup, they sure do.

How strange. So these become bread?

Surprised?

Yeah.

Impressive, isn't it?

Yeah, it's amazing.

We'll grow and sell, grow and sell,

and eventually buy ourselves back.

It might takes years, but someday...

All right. I'm feeling motivated.

This is our first step toward freedom.

Let's clear these woods,
so we can plant double next year.

Oh...

We can eventually buy our freedom by farming,

but I wonder if Arnheid has a similar deal.

I don't know. Why don't you ask her?

You think it'd be okay to ask that?

More importantly, what are we
doing with these today?

Oh, the wheat?
We won't have anything to do for a while.

I see. So we should keep clearing the woods.

So we'll pray.

What? Pray?

Almighty God!

Make our crops grow!

Make them ripen and grow!

Keep insects and mold away!

Send the rain our way!

Join me.

What?

Who am I supposed to p-pray to?

Anyone.

Yahweh, Freya...
Pray to everyone and everything.

Get down here.

If we want a successful harvest,
all we can do is pray to God.

We have nothing to offer.

But we'll pray extra hard to make up for it.

Make our crops grow!

Come on. Put your hands
together and pray with me.

What? O-Okay...

M-Make our crops grow...

I can't hear you!

Okay!

Make our crops grow!

Don't be so embarrassed.

Nothing's more embarrassing
than doing it half-assed.

O-Okay!

Ready, and...

Keep insects and mold away!

Send the rain our way!

Wow, the farm hasn't changed at all.

Are Mom and Olmar doing well, Dad?

Yeah. Olmar is so full of energy,
he's a pain in my ass.

He's anxious to head off to battle like you.

He hasn't changed since he was little either,

even though he's a coward.

Everyone has their strengths
and weaknesses, Thorgil.

He's not fit for battle.

People should stay where they belong.

I wouldn't be so sure.

Sometimes the b*ttlefield changes a man,
like King Canute.

"King"?

Nobody calls him a prince anymore.

He changed quite a lot in this w*r.

He's a proper general now.

Why not send Olmar to the b*ttlefield
and see how he fares?

You can't be serious.

He'd never survive with his skills.

Isn't that the master?

Perfect timing.

Isn't that...

It really is you, Thorgil.

When did you get back?

Five or six days ago.

I ran into Dad at the thing,
so I thought I'd stop by.

You're a tough one. You haven't d*ed yet?

Thanks to the training
you put me through, Snake.

Snake, what have you got trailing behind you?

Oh, right.

Hey.

Come on, hurry up.

They're thieves.

I was going to hand them over to you.

Thieves?

We'd been experiencing a rash
of similar burglaries recently.

I've got a hunch they're behind all of them.

They may be kids, but theft is theft.

They need to be punished, master.

Sture, my hands hurt.

What's going to happen to us?

Are we going to die?

It's okay. It's all right.

I'm right here with you.

In other words...

people talk about m*llitary units,

but nobody really cares who their
allies or enemies are supposed to be.

Once the fighting starts, you and your
clansmen pick your targets and att*ck.

Everyone's desperate to prove they're
the greatest daredevil on the North Sea.

After the battle,
you enjoy plundering the spoils.

Guys k*ll each other all the time
over women they can sell.

Olmar.

Huh?

What do you say?
Do you want to go to England?

Uh, I...

What? You don't want to?

Oh, o-o-of course I'll go to w*r!

I'd love a chance to prove myself!

That's my little brother!

Ow...

Maybe I'll give you a souvenir.

Bring me my necklace.

Yes, sir.

What is this, jerky? Can I eat it?

Sure, but ears don't taste very good.

Huh?

They're the ears of Englishmen.

Ears?

Oh, uh...

You really are a scaredy-cat.

How are you going to fight like that?

We're sons of Iron Fist Ketil.

Iron...

Iron Fist?

You don't know?

Our dad was a legend when he was young.

As soon as the fighting started, his w*apon
would shatter under his own strength,

so he'd fight the rest
of the battle bare-handed.

He accomplished more than
anyone fighting like that.

What? Our dad?

When I talk to the veterans,
the name Iron Fist comes up a lot.

You should show more respect to Dad.

Thorgil, you must be tired from your journey.

Why don't you rest inside?

I'm not that weak.

Thorgil.

If the great Iron Fist Ketil commands it.

Master.

I'm sorry, but could you take care of
those two before you go off to rest?

First, why don't you tell me your names?

Come on, tell him your names.

Don't do that.

They can't speak because they're frightened.

Sorry.

Tell me your names.

I-I'm Sture. My younger sister's name is Thora.

I see, I see. Sture and Thora.

Do you have anyone who could
speak in your defense?

Besides them, their family consists of
their mother and a baby.

Their mother was sick in bed,
so I didn't bring her here.

Their father is missing.

What's your father's name? Is he well?

Answer him.

My d-dad is Snorri.

Last fall, he went out to sell vegetables
and never came back.

Is your grandfather's name by any chance Bo?

Yes.

Their father is Snorri, son of Bo.

He owes money on the land
he rents from you.

Ah, that Snorri.

I knew I hadn't seen him recently.

He must be dead.

He hasn't come back in a year.

He's not coming back.

A thief probably k*lled—

You're wrong! Dad's just out on an errand!

Traditionally, families that have
lost their breadwinner

are hired by other families to do work.

These children may be healthy,
but they have a sick mother and a baby.

Nobody would take them in.

What's the matter, honey?

J-Just got a bit of dust in my eye.

So, what did these two steal?

Their crimes are numerous, but they
confessed to stealing one bag of flour.

My men and I can attest to that.

You didn't thr*aten them
into saying that, did you?

No, of course not.
Though I did convince them to talk.

I'll wait until this bag is empty.

You'll get off easy as long as you're honest.

I told them your name's written
on the bottom of our bags.

That's practically threatening them!

What? That wouldn't have been enough to
make them confess if they weren't guilty.

Then it's simple. One arm.

M-My sister's still little!
Please go easy on her!

Oh? Then you'll accept
your sister's punishment, too.

We'll cut off both your arms.

No... Sture...

Well... I know what I said, but I'd like
to ask you to go easy on them, too.

Then it's decided. Right, Dad?

He's horrifying.

I can hardly believe he's my son.

Why did you have to steal from me?

I have no choice but to punish you.

I'm against it.

You'd be practically executing him.

It's too great a punishment for theft.

Pater...

May I offer my opinion, master?

Yes. Yes, speak, Pater.

As one who helps run this farm,

I don't think it's right to harshly
punish such a young boy.

Cutting off both his arms
would make him useless.

Sture, how old are you?

Twelve.

Good. That's old enough
to start working with the adults.

You must be compensated for their theft,
and their father's debt must be repaid.

They can pay you back by working.

I recommend that you hire these children
and their mother to work on your farm.

They can grow crops on the
land you lent to their father.

I'll teach Sture what to do.

If he grows into a good worker,
you'll be fully compensated for this matter.

They won't need to steal anymore, either.

It solves the problem.

Yes, yes. I couldn't agree more.

I must be compensated
for the loss, yes. In that case—

For the aforementioned reasons, I believe a
b*ating would be an appropriate punishment.

What?

Well, I understand your argument.

No. No, wait. They can pay back
what they stole by working for me.

Paying off their debt
can be their punishment.

They can't get off with
no punishment at all, master.

If you don't, people won't take us seriously.

And nobody likes a kid with sticky fingers.

Punishing them is for their own good.

How many strokes will it be?

Five... Ten. Ten strokes.

That's ten strokes each.

You're first, boy. Bite down hard.

Sture...

Stay back!

Sture!

Twenty! Hit me times!

Just please, please don't hit my sister!

Oh? Now this is interesting.
You've got some guts.

Dad, let me do it.

What? But you don't know how to hold back.

N-No...

Don't k*ll him.

Yeah, yeah.

Be gentle.

Yeah, yeah.

Don't hit his head or anything.

Okay, okay.

Gentle, right? Here we go, kid.

Sture!

One.

Sture!

W-Wait. Stop, Thorgil.

I'll do it. I'll do it myself.

Where's Dad?

He went to bed.

Good grief. Iron Fist Ketil
must be getting old.

All that Iron Fist stuff is a lie.

A Norse man can't be a coward
and make it in this world.

Everyone expects me to be brave.

Nobody suspects a "great man"
like me would lie about that.

I'm afraid of Thorgil, my own son.

I'm afraid of w*r. I'm afraid of v*olence.

Being kind can't possibly be a bad thing.

I know your pain.

You're the only one who'd say that to me.

You're the only one I can tell everything.

Stay with me.

Without you, my world is full of darkness.

An Empty Man

"An Empty Man."