Emer felt unable to find a reply for a moment and muttered something inane. She hoped Blin would not question her too closely and her answers were few and hesitant. She almost cheered when the old woman departed.
The final step of the steam-bath was a plunge into cold water to close her pores. As Emer dried herself, she shivered a little from the shock. Freydis rubbed a lotion scented with herbs and flowers into her skin.
“This is supposed to make you randy, so you quicken right away,” Freydis giggled. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Get it off me!”
“I can’t. Everyone expects to smell it on you today. They’d think something was wrong otherwise. You never know, Hari might even surprise you with his prowess in bed.”
“That would surprise me,” Emer murmured.
“He’s young and strong, underneath those robes he wears, and for all he drags around like one of those monks he admires. You’re comely enough to tickle his fancy, if he lets it happen. Make sure he drinks a lot of spiced ale and you might even have fun tonight.”
Having fun with Hari seemed unbelievable to Emer, but she thought the conversation had gone far enough and she so gently drew it to an end.
Kolla had come in to dress her for the ceremony. She wore a fine woollen robe of green and a cloak of red. Her hair was brushed and left outspread over her shoulders, as a sign of her virginity. The wedding and the feast would be the last times when she would ever wear her hair unbound and uncovered. Finnr’s face flashed into her mind. It was for him she should be dressing, not for Hari. Finnr would never see her like this now. Resolutely, she pushed the thought of him and the life she had always known away.
To replace the kransen which she had never worn and now never would, Kolla set a bridal-crown upon her head.
“This belonged to Mabil, Hari’s mother,” she said. “Her daughters never lived beyond childhood and Hari is her only son. She would want you to wear it at your wedding and keep it for Hari’s daughter.”
“It’s beautiful.” Emer admired the finely wrought crown of beaten silver, twisted with red and green cords.
“It suits you, on your golden hair,” Freydis said. Ready at last, Emer had some time to wait.
“Atli said he would come and bring you to the wedding,” Kolla told her, “since your father and none of your kinsmen are here.”
As the moments passed, Emer became more and more nervous. Rolf arrived, bringing her sword and increasing the tension in the room. He was more than aware of it, for all conversation stopped. Emer found herself trembling and longing for the waiting to be over.
Then Atli walked through the door. He came over to Emer, looking at her critically and kissing her on the forehead.
“You look lovely,” he said. “Hari is a lucky man. Isn’t he, Rolf?” There was a hard note in his voice but Rolf merely said,
“Very lucky.”
Atli had a ring in his hand which he gave to Emer. “You know what you have to do?” he asked her.
“Yes, Kolla and Drifa told me. I shall not fail you.”
“Good. Come now.”
Atli took her hand and, with a deep breath, Emer stepped out of the hut and into the cool evening air. The smoke from the torches caught at her throat and she was suddenly aware of all the eyes looking in her direction. Rolf walked ahead of her, carrying the sword aloft. Atli was at her side, but it should have been Olaf! Emer clutched the ring she carried convulsively, longing for the one man she was certain loved her unconditionally. She had never imagined that she would go to her wedding among strangers, without either her father or her mother being present. Then she straightened her back and looked steadily in front of her as she walked through the crowd. She reached the centre of the circle and saw Hari waiting for her with the old woman, Blin.
Blin began to chant in a high sing-song voice. Emer found it hard to concentrate on the words, although she realised it was a hymn to Thórr and Freyja. Blin was asking the gods to bless the bridal couple and to send them many fine children. Emer could not help glancing at Hari and saw him suddenly grimace.
Blin stepped aside and gestured Hari to come forward. He did so, holding out his sword. It was dark with age and looked rather battered. Freydis had told her that it had belonged to his great-grandfather. The old man fought many battles with it in his hand. His weapons had been concealed for years, waiting for one of his descendants to dig them up and use them again. Hari had done so yesterday. He would give the sword to Emer and she must keep it safe for her own son. As she had been instructed, Emer took the sword from Hari and gave him the one Rolf had carried before her to the ceremony.
Then Hari put a ring onto the pommel of his new sword and offered it to her. Solemnly, she picked it up and put it on. Her fingers shook a little. She placed the ring which Atli had given her, still warm from her hand, onto Hari’s great-grandfather’s sword. She held it out to him. As he put it on, she realised that his hands, too, were shaking.
Wearing their rings and with their fingers joined upon the sword-hilts, the couple then spoke their vows. The swords would become a threat to either of them, should they ever break their oaths.
Then Blin took the sword from Emer. “Now is the time for the brud-hlaup or bride running. You must sprint as fast as you can,” Blin said to Emer, urgency in her voice and pointing in the direction of the longhouse. “Go. Now!”
Emer picked up her long skirts and ran as quickly as she could, but Hari easily outpaced her and reached the doorway before her. For once he had a smile on his face as he blocked her entrance with his sword.
“So you must serve me with ale tonight, not I you,” he said when she arrived panting.
“My pleasure to do so,” she managed to gasp.
He took her arm and led her into the hall, making sure that she did not stumble over the threshold, which would have brought them both bad luck. Then he walked to the centre of the longhouse and plunged his sword into the rooftree.
“A good deep cut, Brodir,” Rolf said as he came up behind them. “Your marriage will be lucky.”
“I intend to make it so,” Hari said, staring at him for a moment and then turning away.
“Let the feast begin,” Atli said, taking his place at the table with Hari and Emer beside him. “Bring the bridal ale.”
A bowl-like vessel, with handles on either side in the form of animal heads, was carried up to him by Kolla. He gave it to Emer. She took a deep breath, stood and presented the cup to Hari, reciting the verse she had carefully memorised.
Ale I bring thee, thou oak-of-battle,
With strength blended and brightest honour;
It is mixed with magic and mighty songs,
With goodly spells, wish-speeding runes.
“I dedicate this drink to Thorr,” Hari rose, took the bowl from her hand and made the hammer sign over it. “May Odin bless my wife and I.” He drank and passed the cup back to Emer who said, as she had been taught,
“May Freyja grant us many sons.” Then she too drank deeply, although the sickly sweetness of the mead made her feel ill. She wondered how she would be able to manage in the next four weeks, when she would be expected to drink honey-wine constantly.
She sat down again and Rolf came up to the table, handing Hari a hammer which he carefully laid on her lap, to bless her womb. Blin turned to face the room and spoke the blessing to Frigga, the goddess of childbearing,
Bring the hammer the bride to bless:
On the maiden's lap lay ye Mjolnir;
In Frigga's name then our wedlock hallow!
Emer found it difficult to eat and drink, even though choice meats were offered to her and even sweetened cakes which she usually liked. She could not help thinking about the night to come and what Hari might expect from her. Her apprehension mounted so much that she thought she might choke. She was heartily glad when, for her at least, the feasting ended. She was led away by some of the women to be put into bed. A hut had been assigned to the newly wed couple for t
his night and someone had lit lanterns inside. The high bed had already been made, wild flowers strewn across it.
They helped her out of her clothes and into a plain linen shift, then they pulled the coverings over her.
“I’ve brought something for you.” Freydis set a wreath of leaves and flowers on her head, laughing as she did so.
“You can do the same for me when I marry Njall,” she giggled.
Emer heard the men shouting outside as they brought her bridegroom to the hut. Hari, too, wore only a smock underneath his cloak. The covers were thrown back and he sat down beside her, quickly pulling the furs over them both. Lots of ribald jokes were made and then, with a bustle and many giggles, everyone left and Emer was alone with Hari. A single lantern lighted the hut and she stole a peek at him, only to find that he was doing the same to her. They both smiled and then he drew back sharply as if he had been stung.
“So we are married.” He said grimly, taking her hand and gripping it hard. “What next?”
“That is for you to say.” She looked at him closely. There was an expression on his face which she thought was odd. “What is it?”
“Did my father tell you that he ordered me not to lie with you, so that you would not quicken with my child?”
“Never!” Emer bolted upright. “Why would he do such a thing?”
“You did not know?”
“Of course I did not know! Atli never said anything to me and neither did any of the women who came to instruct me in these last few days. They spoke about the duties of a wife and how children are made. They said absolutely nothing about not making them!”
Hari stared at her, then he nodded. “Even Fadir would not stoop so low as to spread his plots around the village.”
“What did you say to him when he told you?”
“I asked him if he wanted me to proclaim myself a eunuch to all the people. He said it should not matter to me. I wanted to live among the monks and they are celibate. All he was doing was offering me a halfway house — a marriage that is not a true marriage.”
“Why does he want you to act this way?”
“If you bear a child, you will lose your powers to see into the future. He values your ability more than he wants a grandchild, from me at least. This way, you would continue to have dreams and still be tied to our family’s interests. I would have the type of life he thinks I want, which is why he wanted me to marry you, not Rolf. Do your dreams matter so much to you?”
“They don’t matter to me at all. I would rather not dream the things I do, but I promised to obey Atli.”
“He has not spoken to you about this in any way?”
“No, please believe me. I knew nothing about it until you told me now.”
“I do believe you.” He smiled and his smile was not nice. “It seems as if Fadir has blundered for once. He’s given you no orders, so you can’t disobey him. He bid you marry me and you have. I am your husband and it is a wife’s place to obey her husband, not her father-in-law.”
“He gave you an order.”
“But I never took an oath, so I break no vows. I have been disregarding his orders for many years in small things and he has never found out. Not that I would care if he did. What father has the right to tell his son not to sleep with his new wife?”
“None.” Emer nodded horrified that Atli could even propose such a thing.
“His demand is unreasonable. No one would support him in this if they knew. He was wrong to ask it of me.”
“I agree. What do you wish us to do then?”
He grinned at her. “What husbands and wives usually do on their wedding night.”
“But if I quicken with child, Atli will know you have disobeyed him.”
“We will face that difficulty when and if it arises. Now come to me. The pleasures of the marriage bed are said to be sweet. Let’s find out if they truly are.”
The following morning, Emer was glad she had obeyed Hari. She was sore, but he had proved to be a kind lover, helping her along, but making very sure that she was no longer a virgin. She could not help wondering how she would have fared if Rolf had been her husband or Finnr. Rolf was unlikely to be the gentle type and she suspected Finnr would have been as fumblingly unpractised as she was herself. In the middle of the night she had asked Hari how he knew how to please her so well. He laughed.
“No great mystery to it. All boys are told what to do when they come to manhood and I lost my virginity years ago.”
“Kara?”
“Amongst others. We enjoyed each other for a little while before I left for Eyin Helga.”
“Where you decided to be a monk and forget women for ever.”
“After having you, I am not so sure it would have been the right choice. Perhaps there are more pleasant things in life than peace from strife and painting golden letters.”
Emer slept deeply and it was well after dawn when she was awoken by a scratch on the door. It was pushed back and she saw Freydis’ smiling face, Kolla and Blin right behind her. There was no sign of Drifa or Halla, for which she gave thanks to Freyja. The women’s faces were agog.
“Get up, lazybones,” Freydis said, pulling back the covers. As she rose, Kolla and Blin looked closely at the smears of blood that marked the bed underneath her. She had a vivid memory of Hari staring at them last night before he took a knife and cut his arm, adding more blood to that which was there. When she had asked him what he was doing, he said,
“My father told me there was no need to proclaim myself a eunuch. All I had to do was cut myself and rub some blood on the bed so no one would know.”
“But it is marked already,” she argued.
“He won’t know that and I can show him this scratch if he asks.” He tried to tie a piece of cloth round his arm to stem the bleeding but he was awkward, one-handed.
“Let me do that,” Emer had said, taking the piece of linen from his hand and binding up the small wound.
“Caring for me now?” he asked with amusement.
“If you will allow me.”
“What’s he like in bed?” Freydis asked her later.
“Good. You were right. We did have fun.”
“Glad to hear it. Tell me. Perhaps Njall and I can try a few new things ourselves.”
“Certainly not. Wait for your own wedding night.”
“Stop gossiping, girls.” Kolla said sharply, although she had been listening as eagerly as Freydis.
“We’re here to help you dress and to show you how to arrange your hair now you are a married woman,” Blin said to Emer. “This is how you wear it.” She braided Emer’s hair and bound it round her head. Kolla handed Blin a long, white, finely-pleated linen cloth called a hustrulinet. This was secured on top of Emer’s braids, hiding her hair.
When she was dressed, Emer was led into the hall to complete the final legal requirements of the marriage. Before his father and most of the community and guests, Hari fastened his morning-gift, a silver broach onto Emer’s cloak. He also put into her hands a bunch of keys, which fitted various locks around the settlement. The keys symbolised Emer’s new authority as the mistress of Hari’s household.
In the week that followed, the feasting and merriment continued. Dancing, wrestling, and good-natured insult-contests were fun for everyone in the village. A couple of people told lygisogur, or “lying stories”, which they invented for the occasion, including tales about famous warriors, locals and animals. Others read verses or sang ballads about romance, travel, fighting and the supernatural. Emer enjoyed it all, but found that the continual merrymaking exhausting, when she was the focus of it all. She felt secretly glad when the last guests took to their boats and normal life began again.
10
A couple of days later, Rolf and his men also left on another trading voyage. This was Atli’s idea, so Hari told Emer. She could not help breathing a sigh of relief. In Rolf’s presence she was always on edge. Now she had a chance to discover more about the place where she would spend
the rest of her life. Rolf had made no attempt to speak to her before he left, for which she was profoundly grateful. He did speak to Hari, though, as he was stepping aboard the boat, and there was something uncomfortable in both their stances that caught her eye.
“What did he say to you?” Emer asked when Hari returned to her side and they both watched the ship slide out into the bay.
“He wished me joy in my marriage.”
“A very proper thing for him to say,” she murmured, feeling surprised.
“Not the way he said it.” Hari’s eyes were angry and Emer slipped her hand into his, pulling him away from the crowd who had gathered to watch the departure.
“I’m glad he’s gone,” she said. “When he’s here, it’s as if I’m waiting for a storm to break.”
“Rolf would rejoice to hear you say so. He likes unsettling people. You should ignore him like I do.”
Yet Emer knew that, in this, he lied. Hari might pretend to ignore his brother in public, but she knew just how much he seethed when no one else was present. Rolf had discovered exactly how to anger and irritate Hari long ago. Without him, for a while at least, their lives could gain some peace and normality.
Now she was married, Emer was given more duties in the household. She found that her mother had taught her many of the skills she needed. Emer was grateful to her, but Niamh had never run as big an establishment as the one on Skuy. The size of the place, with its varied activities, seemed daunting to a young girl. Emer was unsure of many of her decisions. At first, she deferred to others until Blin took her to one side and told her,
“Stand up for yourself. Make a decision and don’t be argued out of it by anyone. You’re the wife of Atli’s eldest son. You stand second only to Drifa among the women in this place.”
“But what if I make a mistake?”
“You won’t be the first and you won’t be the last. That’s how everybody learns. If it’s something important come to me or to Kolla. Neither of us will lead you wrong, if only for Mabil’s sake. Make the small decisions yourself. Even a bad decision is better than no decision and hesitating over everything will only make you unpopular in the end.”
Emer's Quest (Manannan Trilogy) Page 9