Honour is All

by Marianne Whiting

  Kveldulf sighed. He must have thought that was the end of it. I knew better.

  Next there was some wrangling regarding Eysten’s intervention. The Lawman ruled:

  ‘Eysten Mordson, you expected foul acts of Kjeld Gunnarson. You laid hands on a fellow Cumbrian warrior in the holy place during a ceremony. Your lack of trust is deplorable and you will pay Kjeld Gunnarson twenty silver pennies.’ Eysten hung his head but I heard him mutter:

  ‘It was worth it.’ I looked at Kveldulf.

  ‘But Mor,’ he whispered, ‘I don’t understand.’ I squeezed his hand. Despite the miserable situation, my heart sang, I was Mor again. Surely he would realise now that a child from the loins of Kjeld Gunnarson was not for him. I whispered:

  ‘It’s far from over, wait for the rest.’

  The Lawman refreshed himself from his wine beaker. Then he resumed:

  ‘Sigrid Kveldulfsdaughter, even under the greatest duress it is still a great wrong to lift a weapon against another in the holy place. You are to pay a fine of twenty silver pennies.’ I was pleased to get away so lightly and asked:

  ‘To whom do I pay? Surely not to Kjeld Gunnarson?’ Leifr smiled a small, sour twist of the lips.

  ‘Yes, to Kjeld Gunnarson.’ The intake of breath among the assembled was audible. Some laughed, some broke into angry cat-calls.

  Kjeld’s wife screamed: ‘Don’t think yourself above the Law, you false hussy.’ Her step-daughter stood behind her, wide-eyed, looking frightened.

  Aware that I was watched by all, including my son, I managed to bite my lip and keep my comments to myself. There was no denying that I had wielded a knife during a sacred ceremony. My punishment was just. Leifr took another drink from his beaker. Then he lifted his hand to call for silence. He had left the most serious lawsuit till last. I thought this meant that he believed Kjeld guilty and relaxed.

  ‘Kjeld Gunnarson stands accused of a felony which threatens the very foundations of our community. How does a young warrior stand firm in the shieldwall if he believes the man next to him could contemplate sticking a knife in him? But Kjeld claims it was unintentional.’

  ‘And it was,’ shouted Kjeld’s wife. ‘My husband is an honourable man.’

  ‘Be quiet woman,’ said Leifr, ‘or I’ll have you barred from this hearing. I have witnessed that Kveldulf did not move or flinch but held still. It has been known for men in their dotage to have a tremor. This is not the case with Kjeld, his hands are steady. But did he injure with intent? Or did Eysten Mordson’s attack cause the injury? It is Kjeld’s word against that of Eysten Mordson. I was there, I watched but I cannot read the hearts and minds of men.’

  Some of us could see where this was leading. Kjeld would escape his just punishment.

  ‘Don’t challenge him to single combat,’ Eysten hissed in my ear, ‘He always uses champions. There’s no point. You won’t get him that way.’ I nodded but I trembled with fury even before Leifr pronounced the verdict.

  ‘Kjeld Gunnarson, your long-standing feud with Sigrid Kveldulfsdaughter is at the heart of this sad event. You are bound not to approach any land belonging to Sigrid Kveldulfsdaughter closer than ten furlongs. That is the distance to the boundary, not the hall. And it applies to your hird and your family as well. You shall also pay Sigrid Kveldulfsdaughter 40 silver pennies and Kveldulf Ragnarson one hundred silver pennies for the scar he will carry for the rest of his life.’ As was the custom, Leifr made us all shake hands to show that we respected his judgement and would abide by it. I was barely able to touch Kjeld’s hand but Kveldulf grasped his wrist in the traditional warriors’ handshake. Kjeld’s wife sneered but his daughter watched with a relieved smile. Was she really naïve enough to think that was the end of it?

  Eysten, Kohl Ivarson and my relatives from Rannerdale and Buttermere gathered round me below the Thing-mound. They all complained that Kjeld should have been outlawed. I was in a state of utter disbelief. How could this have gone so wrong? Only Kveldulf didn’t seem too worried by the lack of severity in the verdict against Kjeld.

  ‘That’s a good amount of silver,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, almost enough for bridegeld there,’ said Harald and was punched for his trouble. Ylva shook her head and said:

  ‘I really wouldn’t, Kveldulf. You’ll have nothing but grief from there.’ Kveldulf didn’t respond and after a while he left, muttering something about meeting up with the other new warriors. I looked after him as he disappeared in the gloomy light.

  I remained with my supporters and we discussed the events until there was more shaking of heads than words. Some found the verdict harder to accept than others. Unn hated Kjeld. She had never forgotten that his treason had caused the death of her childhood friend.

  ‘Of course,’ she muttered, ‘there’s nothing saying the nithing will get to sleep safely in his bed as things stand. Might not even get home in one piece.’ Ylva poked an elbow in her side.

  ‘Unn, shush your mouth. What good would that do?’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘it would do no good at all. I have fought sword in hand for our land and our laws. Good friends have died defending them. I shall never go against those laws. I shall obey even when I don’t like the verdict. And so shall my entire household. However bitter we are about this we shall all respect the Law.’

  It was now quite dark. Alone and in small groups people left the area round the Thing-mound and headed for their booths. Tomorrow was the great sacrifice and feast to conclude this year’s gathering. Cooking fires brought light to the camp and the air filled with the smells of meat roasting and broth bubbling in large cauldrons. I wished people a good night and returned to my booth. I was surprised to see Kveldulf there. I had heard the shouting and laughter from the young warriors and had assumed he’d be with them. He sat by the fire with his back to me. Kirsten dabbed some ointment on his face. He turned round. The sight of him struck me like a blow from Thor’s hammer and with a groan I sank to my knees. Harald exclaimed:

  ‘You didn’t! You headless he-goat, how stupid can you get?’

  My handsome son. Instead of the one scar he had from Kjeld’s knife, his face was now a bloody mess. The bandage on his cut cheek had come away and the wound had split open; his other eye was red and so swollen it had closed; his lower lip was split and dripping blood. Bitter fury returned strength to my body and lifted me to my feet. My hand went to my sword. Dragonclaw burned hot against my hip. The peace cord undid itself. Law, what Law? I roared my anger and thirst for revenge. I heard swords leave their sheaths. Unn growled. Anlaf swore. Thing’s peace or not there would be violence done to revenge this hurt and insult to my son.

  ‘Mother, don’t!’ Kveldulf stood in front of me. He slurred through his split lip. ‘I am to blame. Put your weapons away. Tie the peace cords. This is my fight. When I want support I shall ask for it.’

  ‘Quite right too, young man.’ The voice of the Lawman cut through the weapons’ rattle. ‘I shall turn my back while you get yourselves back to normal.’ Dragonclaw buzzed, hungry for blood. I had to grit my teeth to stay still. I forced my blade back inside her fleece lined bed and secured the peace cord with trembling fingers.

  The Lawman turned to Kveldulf.

  ‘It’s too late for a hearing of the full Thing but there’s still time for a gate-trial. Kjeld’s thugs have gone too far this time. I will go as your spokesman. You have enough supporters here to join you. We can go to his booth now, at once.’ Kveldulf shook his head.

  ‘I thank you, Lawman, but it was too dark to see my attackers. I don’t know who to accuse.’ Harald laughed out loud others cried out in disbelief. The Lawman looked cross.

  ‘A group of villains attack you and you are content to leave it?’

  ‘They didn’t get my silver. I don’t wish to accuse anyone when I don’t know.’

  ‘Then there’s nothing for me to do. It grieves me. Such a breach of the peace during a Thing should not go unpunished. Tell me if you remember who they were.’


  Kirsten finished replacing the bandage on Kveldulf’s cheek.

  ‘Just sit still now until this has set and the bleeding stops.’

  ‘But I…’ he began to get up. She pushed him back.

  ‘You’ll not move from this seat until I say.’ When Kirsten spoke in that voice, everyone obeyed. Kveldulf looked around. Harald sighed.

  ‘Don’t worry, Brother. I’ll go.’

  ‘Tonight you’re going nowhere on your own,’ said Anlaf. ‘Coming Ylva? Unn?’

  They left and I moved to sit beside Kveldulf. He drew away.

  ‘Kveldulf, I am your Mor. I want what’s best for you.’

  ‘But do you know what’s best for me?’

  Harald and Anlaf returned, followed by Ylva and Unn. They were in the middle of an argument.

  ‘I told you it was the wrong thing to do,’ said Harald.

  ‘We couldn’t let her go alone. There’s all sorts abroad, from this world and without. How could we leave the girl?’

  ‘I told you how. She knows the safe paths, we all do, boys and girls. I bet you did as well when you were a lad.’

  Gyda laughed: ‘Oh yes, we did. But he’s forgotten that.’

  Anlaf cleared his throat and looked out of the corner of his eye at his two young daughters.

  ‘It’s a long time ago,’ he muttered. ‘And you girls can stop that. Show some respect for your Sire.’

  ‘Come Husband,’ said Gyda, ‘it’s time for sleep. Old men need a lot of that.’ She and her giggling daughters left for their own tent.

  ‘What happened?’ I asked. Ylva replied:

  ‘Nanna was waiting where she’d arranged to meet Kveldulf. Anlaf wouldn’t let her go home alone. Unfortunately, Kjeld saw us with her. He gave her a thrashing. It was not nice. Stay in your seat Kveldulf, there’s nothing you or we can do. We’d help you, you know that, but it would only make it worse for the poor girl if we went there now.’

  Kveldulf didn’t argue. He was half asleep from the potion Kirsten had given him. I insisted that he slept inside the booth instead of in the tent he shared with Harald. He was unconscious when Kirsten and I tucked him inside his sleep bag.

  My mind in turmoil I stayed up after the others had settled for the night. The fire burnt itself out and I sat in the dark with only my thoughts for company. They were not pleasant thoughts; my son wooing the daughter of my mortal enemy, a man who had tried to have him killed when he was an infant, who had tried to burn his home and who had now set his ruffians to beat him up. Why was he so lacking in pride and honour that he accepted this treatment? How could I explain to him that the girl too could not be trusted? He knew that her sister and brother had both tried to burn Becklund and still… How could he…?

  My unhappy thoughts were disrupted by a sound not belonging to the usual night noises. A scratching; something clawing at a tent cover. Out of the dark came a weak whisper:

  ‘Kveldulf. Kveldulf.’

  I withdrew to stand in the shadows by the booth. It must be her. After another pleading whisper Harald’s head emerged. He crawled out and looked around.

  ‘Here,’ he whispered and stirred life into the fire. They sat down with their backs to me. I couldn’t see the girl’s face but it had to be Nanna Kjeldsdaughter.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Harald. ‘I tried.’

  ‘Not your fault,’ said Nanna. ‘Kveldulf, where is he?’

  ‘Asleep. You know he was beaten up by your father’s thugs?’

  ‘Is he badly hurt?’

  ‘He’ll have a nasty scar but Kirsten says he’ll mend. And you?’

  ‘He beat me. He was savage. My step-mother had to stop him. He’s always been so kind to me. I thought he loved me. Oh Harald, I thought he would kill me.’

  ‘Will he come looking for you? If he finds you here it will start a war.’ The girl sobbed. Then she said:

  ‘He threw me out; called me some awful things; told me never to come back. I can’t believe it. I was so sure. And now I’m homeless. I have nobody but Kveldulf.’ She sobbed, heedless of Harald’s efforts to get her quiet. After a while he put another log on the fire and said:

  ‘You’ll have to sleep in the tent tonight and I’ll sleep here. Tomorrow we’ll… we’ll think of something.’

  I stepped out of the shadows.

  ‘No, Nanna Kjeldsdaughter, you can not stay here even one night. Harald is right. If Kjeld finds you here there will be violence. I shall give you a warm blanket but you must be on your way. You are not the responsibility of my son, either of my sons. You are a danger to them. Your father must never find out that you came here. Harald go to your bed.’ Harald obeyed without a word. I sensed that he felt out of his depth and was glad to get away. Nanna stared at me. Her lips trembled. ‘Soon,’ I said, ‘it will be light. Find your way to Keskadale. I shall tell Eysten Mordson to take you to a safe place. Nothing will happen to you but I do not want to set eyes on you again. You and your family have caused enough pain to this family.’

  ‘But…’

  ‘Here,’ I handed her a blanket, ‘now go. Eysten will catch up with you in the morning.’ I watched her melt away into the darkness. I stayed by the fire until sunrise but not even her shadow appeared again.

  The next morning I told Harald not to tell Kveldulf about Nanna’s visit.

  ‘He’ll rush off in search of her and fall prey to Kjeld’s ruffians. He needs rest to help him heal.’ He accepted and I sent him off to make the most of his last day of games and competitions with his friends. I told Kirsten to keep Kveldulf sleepy and she agreed to give him weak draughts of calming herbs.

  ‘He must keep still,’ she said, ‘so it’s for the best anyway.’

  My next conversation was with Eysten Mordson.

  ‘I understand,’ he said, ‘that it wouldn’t be safe for any of you if you gave her a home. But Sigrid, a maiden living in my hall, just think what people would make of that. I will support you in anything but not this.’

  ‘No, I know and I’m not asking that. Your step-mother is still living with her father in Keswick, isn’t she?’

  ‘As far as I know, yes. For obvious reasons we have severed all contact.’

  ‘I need a favour of her. She owes me, she will not refuse.’ He smiled.

  ‘I’ll send a servant ahead. He can leave now before the cosseted little creature gets lost and dies on us.’

  ‘Cosseted? I can’t see Kjeld being kind to anyone.’

  ‘He doted on the girl. She’s pretty. I think he planned a good marriage for her but not to a son of yours.’

  Kveldulf dozed through what should have been his first experience of the great sacrifice. Kjeld Gunnarson and his entourage left early that morning and were also absent from the festivities. I was exhausted after a sleepless night. Maybe that was why I felt the ceremony lacked excitement.

  Chapter 5

  A Hollow Victory

  December 949

  Ragnar arrived three weeks before Yule. Our children lined up to pay their respects. Ragnar took one look at Kveldulf.

  ‘What happened here? Been in a fight, son?’ He didn’t look put out at the prospect.

  ‘It’s a long story,’ I said. ‘We’ll talk about it when all your warriors have been welcomed and refreshed.’

  ‘So be it,’ he said. ‘And what have we here? A warrior, a young maid and a big sturdy lad, who might you be?’ Harald bent his knee and grinned, Gudrun curtsied and giggled, Thorstein burst out crying and buried his head in my pinafore.

  ‘Reminds me of my first encounter with Scarface, here,’ said Ragnar.

  ‘Ragnar, really! Shame on you, name-calling your eldest son.’

  ‘Oh Mor,’ said Harald, ‘we all call him that. He’s used to it.’

  When the men had cleansed and refreshed themselves I took Ragnar to our private alcove.

  ‘You sounded a bit mysterious out there, Shieldmaiden.’

  ‘I didn’t want to rake it over with everyone there listening. There are enough rumours
and gossip as it is.’

  I told him the whole story about Kveldulf and Nanna Kjeldsdaughter, not leaving out the fact that Veste Kjeldson had been one of the hall-burners.

  ‘Stop, stop, wait, it’s too much. What hall-burning? Here? What happened? Not many survive that.’

  ‘I was awake because I had to speak to Gerda about…’

  ‘And Gerda is…?’

  ‘Odin’s balls, Ragnar, you stay away for a year and then I‘m supposed to tell you all in a few words.’

  ‘If I promise to hang around for a while, will you stop this chattering? There are more important things to see to just now.’ He drew the hanging across the opening to the rest of the hall. ‘Come here Shieldmaiden and I’ll show you how much I’ve missed you.’

  A knock on the wooden partition alerted us to the need for our presence at the welcome feast. As usual Ragnar’s sworn men had accompanied him home and they filled the hall with boisterous noise and laughter. Cerdic was teased about leaving the raiding.

  ‘Finally admitted you’re too old then?’

  ‘No, no,’ he said, ‘no such thing. But I was the only one who could be trusted with the safety of Master Kveldulf.’ This was met with a derisive roar. Orm the Unhurt was, as always, the butt of everyone’s jokes and protested that this time he had been injured. His ships mates dismissed his broken finger as a scratch. I enjoyed the good-natured teasing and bawdy jokes. It was good to have a hall full of warriors. But I noticed that Kveldulf sat quietly through the jokes and tales that lasted the whole evening.

  Eventually I managed to tell Ragnar everything in roughly the right order. I made light of the hall-burning. The Lawman had made it quite clear that there was insufficient evidence for Kjeld’s involvement. Anyway, the perpetrator was dead and nobody else had been harmed. There was no point in pursuing a lawsuit. My main concern was to make Ragnar understand Kveldulf’s strangeness.