Turning back to her duties, the door closed behind her and Yeru noticed Karl had cozied up to Cub.
“Viking life has an allure, my boy,” he took a swig of his mead. “And there are fortunes to be claimed by those brave enough to ply the waves.” Cub earnestly listened, Finn seated beside him, peeking around his older brother. “The first battle we settled for Tanglehair was in mid-winter, snows as high as your armpits, and cold, oh I tell you, cold enough to freeze the very spit in your mouth. We were posted on a hillside, under a patch of evergreens, waiting for the enemy troops, a passel of ruffians supporting a renegade jarl name of Olaf one-ear. He had only one ear because Tanglehair had chopped the other off the first time they met!” Karl laughed and took another gulp from his horn. Why is he so interested in Cub? she wondered to herself.
Settling in next to Gurid, Yeru pulled a platter close and helped herself to the quail and pigeon pie. Good, flakey crust and a savory filling thickened with mushrooms, turnip slices and peas. She took a drink from Gurid’s bowl, raising her eyebrows at her cousin—really strong, this bridal ale. Gurid smiled back knowingly, for this was not her first bowl. Her brother, his horn overflowing, pushed between them and sat down, wrapping them both in his arms and spilling the sticky mead down her back.
“Oh, my girls, tis too bad my Meredith couldn’t join us, she would have loved to see you and of course,” he stifled a belch, “the wedding, Willa’s triumphant moment. We will have the boy and her visit, yes, indeed…”
“How many horns have you had, dear brother of mine?” Gurid giggled and poked him in the ribs.
“Now, now, this is excellent ale, and…” Cerdic staggered to his feet, “It is a happy time, eh? I am happy!”
“Yes, a happy time!” saluted Tormod’s man Sven, coming to his aid with a stabilizing hand, although he stood a bit wobbly himself. Agne prompted Espen and Willa to take back their seats of honor, and he set Hildie on the table beside them. Kara sat by her sister’s knee and reached up to hold her hand. He held up his hands and hushed the assembly, the music trailing off as they recognized he intended to speak.
“As we wait for Freja’s sow to cap our festive meal, let us begin a serious,” he hiccuped and continued, “a most serious endeavor. For like every wedding, we must now host the lygisogur!”
The gathering roared their appreciation. Willa squirmed in her seat and Espen leaned forward, elbows on his knees. Yeru laughed and sipped again from Gurid’s bowl. Mae, Tima and Ursep found seats at the table and the farmer’s maids gathered behind them. Tima caught Yeru’s eye, and jerked her thumb back at the servers while lifting her bowl—time to share? Yeru nodded back, and Tima passed a bowl among the girls and lifted a pitcher from the table for them to refill it. A scrape and jostle rose from the tables while the guests settled in their places.
“Wait for me, wait,” Cerdic rounded the table and slid into his seat next to Tormod and one of Inga’s attendants.
“Now for the lying stories,” Agne tried to keep a solemn countenance, but his jolly smile kept creeping across his face, “And who better to start than our wayward skald, come home from his world travels?” Shouts of “Jormander!” and “Make it the best lie you’ve ever told!” rose from around the table.
“Hold!” Jorn, Karl’s man stood and held up his arm for quiet, “Wait a moment! We all know he lies the best, eh?” Jorn tipped his head towards Jormander. “But, who among us is ready to follow this king of lies? I fain it not be me! If it pleases our bride and groom, I would ask to not follow this great courtly skald who has entertained the likes of Tanglehair, the Aldermen of Eddisbury and Orkney. Let those of us willing deliver our wedding lygisogur first. What do you think, Espen and Willa?”
Espen spoke. “So, you propose to hold the best for last?” Willa, nodding, added “Are you then ready to go first?”
Jorn bowed to the bride and groom, and Jormander intoned, “Just no more bragging about your dragon, we beg you.”
“We think this a perfect idea,” Espen pointed at Jorn with his ale horn, his other hand on Willa’s knee giving her a squeeze.
Jorn smirked at Jormander across the room and addressed the married couple, “Everyone knows that Odin made the first man and woman, fashioning the man from an Ash tree and the woman from an Elder, but have you heard of their marriage? You see…
“Ymir’s eyebrows were recent bent
to form this fair Midgard,
and the land was fertile,
oh, the land was good.
But, Odin and his brothers two
found all mere quiet with none but beasts
to cavort and play in this,
their new hatched middle realm.
That is why our king of gods
plucked trees and shaped
Aske and Embla,
blowing puffs of life deep,
deep into their lungs.
Made of godly hands
they were exquisitely fine forms,
handsome, pleasing in every aspect,
the most attractive couple
ever grown on Midgard,” Jorn began to pace the room as he recited his tale.
“As pretty as our Willa and her groom,
the essence of youthful vigor, chastity
and oh, so glorious in countenance,
Embla with her long, blonde tresses
and Aske with his broad shoulders and fine, red beard.
Born of supple wood and in the care of gods,
they stood in all humility,
unclothed and unbound,
their limbs uncovered and sun warmed,
the apex of physical prowess,
magnificent to behold.
Even the Valkyries broke into song
when set their eyes upon them,
their grandeur was divine, direct from Odin’s hand.”
Standing before the musicians he bounced his hand in a rhythm and nodded to them, indicating his lead and they quickly grasped his meaning, adding a beat to his speech and plucking quietly on the harp in a joyful major key.
“Now Embla, being the first woman,
knew not her nature own,
but Aske when he first laid eyes
upon astounding, unclothed beauty,
felt his sap to rise.
He called to her,” Jorn continued in an affected voice,
“Oh, Embla, my elder bud,
come hither and lie with me.
We shall find your elder flower
and blossom here together,
here under the sky our gods have made.”
Sniggering filled the hall. Jormander, next to the lady he had pressed to dance, nodded encouragement to Jorn. The guests began to snap their fingers along with the music’s beat.
“When she heard his plaintive call,
Young Embla felt yearning in her heart,
… and maybe a bit of longing
in her elder thicket, too.
But a giantess named Gridh,
standing watch on those three Aesir,
took pity on the naïve lass
and resolved to warn her sister,
of treachery of gods and men.
Disguised as a comely mourning dove,
she cooed in Embla’s ear
and distracted her just moments
before her maidenhood a’ splintered
by so strong an ashen timber.
With a hoot and tut,
she led her from that manly trap
and protected her womanly virtue.
Once absent the enchanting lad,
Gridh shed her birdlike form,
took her true shape,
a giantess towering high
above the forlorn, aghast young miss.
‘Fear not,’ she told Embla,
‘For I have saved you, my young maid!
Let not your nature overwhelm your head
—for marry you must this partner,
fair, legal and godly blessed,
if you intend t
o keep him,
here inside your nest!’
And thus, the kindly giantess
described the marital rules,
and how a willing bride governs her man,
no matter the lumber in… his founding!”
His pause in delivery drew a resounding laugh from his audience.
“Armed with great understanding,
deep and mystical too,
Embla returned to Aske her love,
in his forest glade.
With mesmerizing beauty,
she explained proper knowledge gained,
that always marriage must come first,
before kindling is made.
The sacred grove so chosen,
she called on Vile, Odin, Ve,
godly brothers, a powerful three
to bless this their woody union.
And so it was, the first marriage joined
underneath the stars,
man to woman,
ash to elder,
all in all now one.
This matrimonial splendor,
now shared by you as well,
shall bless your saplings yet to come,
love here forever dwell.”
Finished, Jorn offered a stately bow to the bride and groom on their raised chairs. Everyone applauded the recitation.
“What a fine lygisogur, Jorn!” Agne cheered with the men. Karl smiled at his brother and his wife, his man had made him proud. “Perhaps later we shall entice you to tell us the story of the wyrm?”
Cerdic stood and cleared his throat. “It seems even sailors here are poets,” he said to the bride and groom. “I best go next for my talent is not a bard’s tongue.” Espen raised his glass to him and Willa said, “Thank you Uncle.”
Cerdic widened his stance and leaned against the table, straightened his vest and brushed down his beard. “Once, long ago, when we were but wee bairn, the boneless gathered his warriors to invade, and this was a great sorrow in Mercia. We peaceful neighbors were, and unready for battle. Everyone everywhere prepared for coming war, man, woman and child. Now there lived among us a lady of Wessex, a beauty named Aelflaed, with long, blonde hair and skin like sweet cream. She could recite vespers from memory, a good, holy woman, tall and slender and fulsome. She was kind and well-spoken, and all our folk loved her, but men, any men that saw her, they wanted her for their own.” Cerdic paused and glanced about his audience. Everyone listened carefully, both from good manners and because his Mercian accent had become more pronounced with a few horns of bridal ale.
As he paused to wet his throat, the door opened and two men entered, bearing the roast pig on a spit, the warm smell of the pork immediately filling the room. Yeru pushed back from her place and called Tima and the servers to help her. The sow had been laid directly on the coals, scorching off its bristles and thick hide and charring the meat. They settled the spit on the mounts over the fire, and with a heavy knife, began carving huge chunks of the steaming pork to pass along the table. Yeru indicated to Tima to serve the married couple first, and then had the serving girls stand in a line with wooden platters so she could fill each in turn.
“The beauty Aelflaed, she had a habit of bathing in the Trent. You see, Eddisbury women found a secret place where the river bend was hidden from passers, and women there together wash, their clothes, their babes, themselves. They showed this place to Aelflaed, and she went there most days, to sit in quiet, even when weather was cold or raining, or when she must go herself.”
Yeru whispered to Tima to unplug a new cask and start serving all but the newlyweds the regular ale, keeping the bridal ale for Willa and Espen as essential to tradition. Most of the room hung on Cerdic’s words, which provided a space to serve and gather dirtied platters and uneaten courses.
“While the great army of the North battled through Anglia, brave men rode out into the countryside to seek knowledge of defenses and enemies’ strength. A Norse scout for Ivar’s troops came across the beautiful Aelflaed bathing in her glen. It seemed to him, one Bjorn, son of Hans, that this maid was too comely for a human girl, she must have been an elf, no, not an elf, how you say a…” He cast an imploring glance at Gurid.
“A nymph?”
“Yes, a nymph. She bewitched him, and forsaking orders, he grabbed Aelflaed, wrapped her in a bearskin and tied her to his saddle. He rode a full day and night, carrying her away from her people and lands, and far from his own army, too. You see, so jealous was he, Bjorn feared his captain would see and take her for his own.
“Bjorn and Aelflaed, neither spoke the other’s tongue. After Aelflaed stopped weeping, it became clear they did not understand each other. She begged him for release, and he commanded her to be quiet and so they argued, and while the words were gibberish to ears, meaning was soon passed between them. Bjorn gave her a tunic and soldier’s leggings to dress, and a thong to hold her hair. Soon they came to a place neither knew, mountains and rocky ways, and forests thick and dark. It began to storm.”
Yeru half listened to her cousin’s tale as she shuffled the platters and directed the attendants. She ensured the pork roast passed to the guests so all could taste of the sacrifice and so bless the union. Outside, the sun sank behind the stockade wall, the shadows longer and darker, and she could hear faint singing from the tables in the fields.
“Seeking shelter, Bjorn found a cave and tethered his horse outside its mouth. He carried his prisoner where it was dry and hidden from the winds. There he built a fire and they dried their clothes. He shared his soldier’s meal with Aelflaed, and as they sat before the fire, he explained that he saved her from the war to come. Of course, she understood not a word—she sat in fear that, at any moment he would defile her maidenhood. But Bjorn told her he meant to treat her with respect and honor, as he intended to marry her. Her beautiful face had magicked him, more than any wizard spell, and he was entranced by her grace. As he talked and talked, and shared his meager meal with her, Aelflaed began to see that this warrior intended no harm, although she understood not a word of his kind and gentle voice. On the long ride she had lost all sense of direction and she was lost, wet and cold in a cave many leagues from home. Bjorn gave her his bearskin to sleep upon, lying down across the fire from her with the cave exit behind him. Soon he drifted to sleep, while Aelflaed began to sob.
“Now the cave that Bjorn had found was an ancient place. Unknown to them, it was haunted. As Bjorn slept, a tall woman dressed in strange garb came out of the darkness and surprised Aelflaed. The ghost spoke and knew her name.
“’Aelflaed, Aelflaed, why doth thou cry?’
“‘I am doomed, for this warrior has stolen me and I know not why.’
“’Aelflaed, this man is struck dumb with love for you. Heed my words, he is blind to all others now that his eyes have seen you. To his own peril, he has turned from his king’s command to protect you. His fate is entwined with yours. This very night he will protect and save you. Because of love for you, he shall take Mercia’s cause to Ivar the Boneless and save all your lands. Too late you will return his love, when you learn of his good and stalwart heart, for he shall die to defend you, and that is when you will truly weep.’” The ghost told her this and was gone. Startled and afraid, Aelflaed remained awake that night, confused by the ghostly warning.
“Before dawn there was a sound of horses pushing through the brush outside the cavern. Aelflaed woke Bjorn and crept into the shadows to hide. Bjorn unsheathed his sword and stood to the side of the entrance in darkness unlit by glowing coals. He could hear their whispers, and the scuffs of boots as they crept forward in the dark. A band of bandits had come to hide in the cave, wet and chilly with rain, mutters and curses in the night. Just as they realized the cave was fire warmed, Bjorn fell upon them. His surprise gave him advantage, but their numbers evened the fight. With a quick hand, snick-snick, he laid two upon the ground, a loud clack ringing in the close quarters as his parry met with iron. His sword beat back their attack, clang, clang, swish
, swish, clang. The noise in close quarters, oh, it was loud—Aelflaed covered her ears in fear. She could smell the stink of these bandits, unwashed and uncouth, the room filled with foul curses and death screams, words seldom heard by ladies of Eddisbury. They battled, three remaining outlaws jabbing and hacking, while Bjorn parried and stabbed, and bit by bit his skill overcame brute force. One fell from a blow to his side, a howl of pain ringing in the cave, and after a feint and parry, another dropped beside him, a deep, gurgling bite to his neck. The final thief, sensing his end was near, turned and ran from the cave. Checking his wounds, Bjorn found none to threaten his life, and he bandaged his leg where an axe blow had sliced his thigh. Bjorn finished the dying men and to his surprise found that their purses were heavy, a poor waylaid merchant’s loss had fattened their bags. He found a sack of clothes, including silk tunics and a fine brocaded woman’s dress. He called Aelflaed from hiding and gave her the clothes to change into a more befitting costume. Outside he found two horses heavy with packs tied to a tree near where his mount stood quiet watch. He returned to Aelflaed. ‘It’s time we should go,’ and she understood his meaning if not the words. As dawn rose, morning light fell on the gold thread sewn into her dress. Bjorn placed Aelflaed on her own mare and they rode together, side by side.
“Bjorn, now worried of more bandits, turned east, determined to find the camp of Boneless Ivar and gain his brother’s protection for himself and his beautiful charge. He decided better to be with his own clan than to face the wilderness alone—a next time may not go so well. So, he set jealousy aside and led his treasure into lands held by Ivar and his North men.
“As she rode, Aelflaed thought on the ghostly words. This man had protected her—who knows what would have happened if he had fallen and those evil men had found her? Their route took them past a few villages, a thane and armed men at guard in each, wary of every traveler and watchful for the great heathen army. Bjorn avoided all, keeping a wide and safe distance between them….” Cerdic paused and held his horn to be refilled, Tima stepping forward with the newly tapped ale, filling until froth bubbled from the top and over his hand. He licked his hand and took a swig. The bride and groom smiled at him, Espen asking him to continue.
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