The Extremely Epic Viking Tale of Yondersaay

by Aoife Lennon-Ritchie

  “‘No,’ Ursula said with finality. ‘Because you fell off the ice and cracked your head.’

  “‘Oh. So, it didn’t mean anything to you?’

  “‘Not at all,’ she said, and Dudo thought, hoped, she looked a little uncertain.

  “‘So why bother?’ King Dudo asked in a huff.

  “‘I could hardly let you drown, now, could I? You looked so pathetic.’

  “‘Pathetic?’

  “‘Like a wet rat.’ Ursula stifled a grin.

  “‘I have had enough of this insolence, peasant! Servant girl! Away with you!’ Dudo snapped around and turned his back on Ursula.

  “‘You did ask!’ Ursula said as she got up from the blanket and walked into the woods, humming, in the direction of Brunhilda and Thorar. From the woods, Dudo could hear Brunhilda and Thorar burst into laughter, clearly at something Ursula had just told them.

  “Dudo strode across the clearing and stood at the edge of the trees. ‘Brunhilda, Brunhilda, come away. Our picnic has been ruined by these interlopers. I am taking you eagle gliding.’

  “‘Oh, no no no no,’ Brunhilda said, emerging panicked from the trees. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, my liege. I’d much rather go back to strolling. Strolling was good. I liked strolling. Let’s do some more strolling.’

  “The following morning, the day after the eagle gliding date, on Brunhilda’s last day before heading south, she and Dudo went for brunch in the harbor. Dudo was not comfortable. He still hadn’t gotten used to the brace on his neck. The cast on his leg was itching like madness, and the bruises all over the rest of his body still hurt like all hell.

  “‘This is just lovely,’ Brunhilda said, ‘even nicer than strolling, which, of course, you’ll be able to do again in six to eight weeks depending on how that break heals. Just lovely. I never much cared for eagle gliding anyway. It’s overrated. Of course it was not your fault at all that you careened headfirst off the mountain as soon as you took flight. It was a bad day for wind.’

  “‘Brunhilda, beautiful Brunhilda, I’ve been thinking,’ Dudo said through his wired jaw.

  “‘Yes?’ Brunhilda replied, sipping elegantly on a beverage.

  “‘I have something to ask you.’ “Dudo heaved himself off his seat and painfully got himself into a position which from certain angles could look like he was on one knee. ‘Ow, ow, ow, ow ow,’ he said. ‘You are a very nice person, and we get on quite nicely, don’t we?’

  “‘I think we do, yes, and thank you. You are a very nice person too. Not very sporty but very nice, yes,’ Brunhilda said.

  “‘One comes to a point in one’s life,’ King Dudo continued, ‘when one thinks one might be better off being with someone else, someone nice, to do things with and share things with and bear heirs with. Do you agree?’

  “‘Yes, I think I do agree, King Dudo. I think I do. Someone nice is far preferable to someone who is not nice. And one really should get around to bearing heirs before it is too late for one.’

  “‘In that case, Brunhilda, and I know we don’t know each other very well as yet, but I was wondering …’

  “‘Yes?’

  “‘I was wondering’—Dudo took Brunhilda’s hand and looked earnestly into her eyes and screeched—‘you have got to be kidding me!’ For just then, Ursula and Thorar, laughing hysterically as usual, came speeding into the harbor riding on the backs of two dolphins. ‘No, seriously, come on! Does that servant girl ever do any work? Seriously!’

  “Ursula and Thorar came to a sharp halt at the water’s edge next to where Dudo was kneeling before Brunhilda. They sent a wave of saltwater into the air as they halted. Brunhilda nimbly dove out of the way, but Dudo, slow to react, was sent sprawling by masses of icy-cold saltwater.

  “Dudo glared at Ursula. Ursula looked back coyly. ‘Oops,’ she said as she leaped off the dolphin’s back onto the promenade beside King Dudo.

  “A dripping Dudo, shivering from the icy water, turned to Brunhilda. ‘Beautiful Brunhilda,’ he said, and as he waited for Brunhilda to come back to him from the dry part of the verge, Dudo thought he saw Ursula’s smile fade as she moved away to allow Brunhilda space. But he couldn’t be sure. It was this uncertainty that cut Dudo to his core. When the others had laughed at him under the canopy of trees, he knew Ursula had laughed with them, but the timbre of her laugh had lacked the vigour of theirs. When they emerged, he thought he caught a look of sadness on her face. An admission that what she’d said and done did not reflect how she felt about him. It was an impression only, a feeling, and a fleeting one at that. Nothing he could count on; nothing he could grasp firmly and say ‘Here, look. This is what you did or this is what you said, and this is how I know my love reflects yours. This is how I’m sure your heart beats in time with mine. And why I can never love another, even the fabulous Brunhilda with her hair of sleek ebony and her thighs of thunder.’ But he didn’t have that certainty, and with noon blazing its silken presence on Brunhilda’s last day on Yondersaay, Dudo’s mind was set.

  “‘Brunhilda,’ he mumbled through his wired jaw as he heaved himself back onto his one good knee, ‘Darling delightful Brunhilda, will you marry me, today, at sunset?’

  “Brunhilda, undoubtedly startled by the sudden mumbling, gasped before eloquently answering, ‘Um, all right.’

  “Dudo rose and wetly limped as quickly as he could, so not very quickly at all, with as much dignity as he could muster, which wasn’t very much at all, away from the harbor toward the dwelling place. ‘Wonderful,’ he threw back over his shoulder, ‘until sunset!’

  “His last glance backward took in a startled Brunhilda, a gorgeous Thorar the Smouldering, and although Dudo could not be certain of this, a pale and stricken Ursula, who with an almost imperceptible step back clutched the dirty rock that hung on her neck. As Dudo left, he heard the faintest whisper of Ursula’s voice as she hummed sadly and strolled away.

  The Wedding of Dudo and Brunhilda

  “The wedding of Dudo and Brunhilda,” Granny began.

  “That can’t be right, Granny. Are you sure you’re remembering the story correctly?” Dani asked.

  “Yes, Granny, how can Dudo marry Brunhilda when Ursula is his Heart’s True Love? You sure you’re not mixing it up?”

  “Do you want to hear the story or not?” Granny said sternly.

  “Yes,” Dani and Ruairi replied.

  “Do you want me to tell it to you the way it really happened, or do you want me to make something up so it all ends Happily Ever After?”

  “The real way, Granny,” Ruairi said.

  “Well, all righty then.” Granny looked at Dani and Ruairi and sighed. “We’d better take it upstairs. It is ludicrously late. Go brush your teeth and get into bed, and I’ll come up and finish the story up there. I’ll just make myself a quick snack while you’re getting into your jammies. I’ve barely eaten a thing all day.”

  “We’re ready!” Dani and Ruairi shouted from their bedroom a few minutes later.

  Granny vigorously bounded up the stairs and threw herself into the giant beanbag on the floor of the bedroom with her feet sticking up and out. “Where were we?” Granny settled down deep and began again. “Word of the proposal spread quickly, and as everyone on the island always wanted in on a good party, they all came together in the village and got stuck into preparations for the wedding feast.

  “The island’s men—fishermen and farmers naturally but also warriors to the core—were a little saddened that the chances of bloody battle between them and the Danes were seriously diminished. They had hoped Dudo would take Rarelief’s first option and go off, find his men, ixnay the jarl’s line, and scootch back to the island for battle. However, they bore the disappointment stoically and got into the party spirit instead. There was much goat sacrificing and mead drinking in honor of the happy couple.

  “As the day wore on, smells of cooking mingled with the smell of the sea and wafted all over the island. V
illagers hung banners and lights for the sundown ceremony. As the hour approached, men and women, dressed in their finest gear, which happened to be their battle gear, paraded down the main thoroughfare of the island. They held aloft huge flaming torches, which lit hundreds of giant candles placed all over the settlement.

  “They also carried a longship on their shoulders. Usually in Viking times, and you may not know this, Dani and Ruairi, a longship was burned only at funerals. But not on Yondersaay. There have always been lots of very old people on Yondersaay, and not that many funerals. Yondersaanians rarely got a chance to burn a longship because of the lack of people dying. So it was long the tradition on Yondersaay that longship torching was no longer confined just to funerals, and the locals could and did perform the ritual at any big occasion, happy or sad.

  “The villagers began gathering at the point chosen by the bride as the wedding venue. Brunhilda had decided against having the wedding at the harbor, an obvious choice since the sunset over the waves is exquisitely beautiful. It was too close to the promenade, the site of her groom’s embarrassment on not one but two occasions. She had decided against the clearing in the Crimson Forest for similar reasons, despite that spot coming alive in a chorus of animal music upon the setting of the sun. She didn’t choose anywhere on Mount Violaceous because her groom had fallen off the mountain so disastrously the day before. Instead, running out of options, Brunhilda chose as her wedding site the banks of the gargling brook by the clearing just beyond the dwelling place with the woods behind them and the shimmering sea in front.

  “A stunning location without doubt, but Brunhilda was not to know that this was where Dudo had seen Ursula for the first time after his escape from the ice. Brunhilda was not to know that this was where, believing Ursula to be his Heart’s True Love, Dudo spoke to her for the very first time. Brunhilda was not to know that this was the spot upon which her groom was hurt more deeply than he had ever been hurt by any savage beast or by an adversary in battle.

  “It was here on the banks of the gargling brook by the clearing just beyond the dwelling place with the woods behind them and the shimmering sea in front, that Dudo the Mightily Impressive, arriving for his marriage to the beautiful Brunhilda Thunder Thighs, realized that forevermore he would go through life an incomplete man. For it was on this spot that King Dudo the Mightily Impressive, crushed and broken, was coming to understand that he would never spend a year, a month, or even a day with his Heart’s True Love.

  “Brunhilda was not to know this.

  “He stood, balancing on his crutches, taking care not to move his wired jaw too much, thinking and waiting, as the islanders settled onto chairs and benches and stools behind him. Ursula approached him.

  “‘Wintersuckle flowers,’ she said as she pinned some tiny flowers to his sleeve. ‘The bride’s handmaiden traditionally bestows these as a gift to the groom on the day of his wedding. They grow wild on the island and survive even the harshest of conditions. They represent continuity, stability, and fertility. May you and your bride have a long and loving life together, and may the gods reward your devotion to each other with many healthy children.’

  “Dudo was taken aback by the sweetness and sincerity with which Ursula spoke to him. He saw a gentleness in her face that he had never seen before as she fastened the flowering buds to his clothing. ‘I am grateful for this gift,’ Dudo said to Ursula, and he looked into her eyes, deep into her eyes for the first time since he saw her on the ice. ‘Thank you. You make things seem very clear to me.’

  “‘I do?’

  “‘Yes, yes, you do.’

  “Ursula blushed and started walking away. ‘I will bring your bride to you. As you are alone here on the island, Thorar will stand with you.’

  “Dudo turned and welcomed the resplendent Thorar the Smoldering. Thorar smiled and slapped Dudo on the back. ‘My congratulations to you both,’ he said. ‘It is my pleasure to stand with you today.’

  “Dudo instinctively turned to watch Ursula leave. He didn’t even realize he was doing it. Just as he was about to turn back and chat with Thorar, Ursula glanced back at him.

  “Ursula saw Dudo looking at her, and Dudo saw Ursula looking at him. His heart soared. She reddened and looked away. Dudo turned back to Thorar, but he could not concentrate on what the warrior was saying. All he could think about was Ursula and the way she had looked at him just now.

  “While he was deep in thought, soft music started up. The village musicians had fanned out along the bridge across the brook and were now playing sultry music that echoed and enhanced the atmosphere of the latening day. They played in the glow of the setting sun and the thousand candles laid out across the bridge.

  “The birds were singing their evening tunes, and the night insects had started their mating songs when Brunhilda emerged.

  “She truly was a striking bride—beautiful and radiant. White and flowing, her dress set off her raven hair, her blue eyes, her red lips, and ably presented the perfection of her form. It was clear to Dudo, as it was to everyone present, that this woman, his bride, was a natural beauty. From his conversations with her, Dudo knew her heart was just as pure and beautiful.

  “Nevertheless, Dudo could not help his heart from yearning for the woman simply attired in an everyday dress with neither makeup nor jeweled adornment, who was walking quietly, her eyes on the ground, behind his bride.

  “When the heiress reached the king, their hands were joined by an ancient man in flowing green robes. He was the resident ceremony-official-maker. Dudo had noticed him earlier, snoozing on the ground, propped up against a rock. He had been hoisted into position by the jarl and Thorar while everyone else’s attention was diverted by Brunhilda’s arrival. Dudo had never seen anyone so old.

  “The ceremony-official-maker raised his arms, and the crowd quieted. He began, ‘It is with very heavy hearts that we gather here to mourn the loss—’ The jarl leaped with great speed to the ceremony-official-maker and whispered something in his ear.

  “‘What?’ the old man shouted. The jarl whispered a bit louder. ‘Oh, I see! A marriage, not a funeral.’ The old man turned to the bride and groom and smiled. He slowly raised his arms, closed his eyes, and lowered his head. The assembled wedding guests, everybody on the island, awaited the old man’s pronouncement.

  “The old man did not move. The jarl cleared his throat. The ceremony-official-maker was standing upright, his head bowed down as though in preparation, and his arms were raised in the air. After a minute, a soft snoring sound came from the old man and carried all the way to the back of the crowd. The jarl gave the old man a swift kick to the ankle. He roused himself with a snort and started speaking again as though he’d never stopped.

  “‘We are here on this beautiful evening to celebrate the coming together in marriage of’—and here the old man paused, and his eyes flickered toward the jarl who coughed.

  “‘Cough—Hilda!’

  “‘Brunhilda! And …’ Again, the old man glanced toward the jarl.

  “‘Cough—Udo.’

  “‘And King Dudo of the Danes! Let us hear from the groom,’ the old man said and bowed his head again.

  “Dudo turned to the assembled crowd. He looked into the faces of his would-be subjects. He thought briefly of the treasures buried deep beneath Rarelief’s roots.

  “‘My liege,’ King Dudo said. He spoke loud enough for the entire congregation to hear, but he was addressing the jarl— a man who had been hospitable and generous when he had not needed to be. ‘This island represents the culmination of a lifetime’s dreaming. Yondersaay would be the jewel in the crown of Denmark. The young men of the island would be a huge asset to my Viking fleet. I would be honored and proud to go into battle with any one of you. My fellow countrymen would hail me as their greatest king for centuries if I were to sail home and proclaim Yondersaay mine.

  “‘As you know, there have been songs sung and legends told of the mighty king who will single-h
andedly engineer the island’s surrender, who will possess the island despite its being hidden from view in the northern-most seas and inaccessible to the merest mortal. I have come to love this island over the past few days; it has come to feel like home to me. I have seen myself so many nights in my dreams as this one heroic king.’

  “Here, King Dudo paused for a moment. He drew a deep breath and continued, ‘Your daughter is a genuine beauty. Brunhilda possesses a perfection of heart, mind, and body so pure as to bring light and hope to the most dejected. So it is, indeed, with the heaviest of hearts that I say to you’—and Dudo looked at the jarl and then turned to his bride—‘that I lay bare my soul and confess: I am not the king of the legends.’ Here King Dudo looked back at the jarl. ‘It sorrows me deeply to say I cannot marry your daughter.’

  “The crowd drew a collective intake of breath. They gasped in shock. Soxolf the Unshod, silent when Dudo first met him, could plainly be heard, by everyone, to say, ‘He’s ditching her at the altar? What cretin would do such a thing?’

  “‘I’m sure he has his reasons,’ Pal the Friendly whispered back.

  “‘My lord,’ Dudo continued, despite the crowd’s rumblings getting louder and louder, ‘I must relinquish my life’s dream and leave your island disconsolate, empty-handed, and alone. I hope, nevertheless, my lord, that I will always be welcome at your table. You and yours will always be welcome at mine.’

  “King Dudo turned to face Brunhilda. ‘It is with the utmost sadness and regret, Brunhilda, that I renege on my promise to marry you. That I should do it today of all days, on your wedding day, while you stand before me at the altar, is unforgivable. I have been a coward and a fool, and I should never have allowed myself to take our courtship this far. You have done nothing wrong, and I will be eternally ashamed at the way I have treated you, at the humiliation I have brought upon you, and the disappointment you must feel.’