Elin's Song
"Do you not know Maiden-Songs are forbidden by law? They imply an intimacy that should not exist. How would a man know a woman in such a way without tasting the mead? Both men and women fear falling under their magical ensnarement due to the power of the verses. I could have this guard imprison you even for suggesting such a thing, and her family may do even worse to you." -- the words of Jórunn Skaldmaer in my story, Maiden-Song.
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Chapter 1
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CLANG!
Two steel swords met once again as the duel continued. An older man yelled to his opponent, "Your sword arm weakens. If I hold out for a few more minutes, you will be forced to withdraw."
His opponent scowled, "It is you that weakens, old man!" A furious rush, followed by three clever and forceful sword strokes, did not yield the expected result.
"My eyes grow weak, but I saw your moves coming," cried out the older man. "They are ones I have seen many times."
"Father, I use that same sequence when dueling the young men in our village, and it has never failed to force them to yield."
"Elin, I know. I am the one who taught you those moves when you were younger. My advantage today is knowing what you are going to do. When fighting someone of nearly equal ability, you must be careful if the duel wears on. You must see and learn his favorite moves, but if he is a worthy adversary, he will try to learn yours. You must become unpredictable. Now, try again."
The young woman raised her sword and made a half-hearted attempt to continue. Her father, Ivor, noticed her reluctant sword and used a series of slashes and stabs to drive her back toward their longhouse.
"Do not try to decoy me!" yelled Ivor. Drawing his right arm back, he swung his sword in a wide arc. Elin raised her sword to parry. But Ivor stepped back, allowing his sword to move swiftly past the attempted block. Bending his knees, he arrested the movement and reversed his sword, aiming at her legs. Elin jumped and the sword found only air as it passed beneath her.
"Well done," said Ivor.
"It would be easier if I didn't have to wear this dress!" snapped Elin.
With her father slightly off balance, Elin began a furious attack, driving him back. Passing a fence, she leaped to her right, her foot finding the bottom rail, and quickly jumped behind her father. He tried to turn to face her but was not fast enough, and her blade struck a forceful blow against his lower back. He fell forward and dropped to his knees. A line of red formed where the blade struck.
"Are you hurt, father?" yelled Elin. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't arrest my blade. There is a gash in your leather vest."
"Only my pride is hurt," Ivor replied. "It is but a scratch. You made an interesting move, graceful and quick. It was as if you were an elf or Huldra. Unpredictable. Tell me, how would such a move be best put to use?"
"We are both tired, so it is effective in a long fight."
"When else? Think of the young men you have fought against."
Elin replied, "It would work against a slow opponent with poor footwork. Or, one who is much larger and cannot easily turn."
"Or, against an old man like me."
"You are not old, father."
"I have spent forty-two years in Odin's realm. That is old, Elin. Few men in our village reach the age of fifty."
"But you are still an excellent swordsman, Father. Equal to any of the young men I practice against."
"I may have once been considered skilled twenty years ago when I fought with the King against the Swedes. But after your mother died in childbirth, I stopped fighting to raise you, and switched my trade to that of a silversmith."
Elin said, "Twenty years of your sword-fighting knowledge flows through my veins and lives in my heart."
"When I am gone, you will need that knowledge, Elin. That is all for today. It is almost time for the market. We need money right now, so take my jewelry and try to get a good price."
Both Elin and her father went into their longhouse. He removed his vest and tunic, and Elin wrapped the wound. Then she picked up a basket with two dozen pieces of jewelry her father had made.
"If you cannot find any buyers, try to trade some of the lesser pieces for a goat. We will need one for your wedding to Tormod."
"I will do my best, Father."
"As always," he replied.
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Chapter 2
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Elin walked toward the center of the village and in the corner of her eye noticed movement. She turned her head quickly but saw nothing there. As she continued walking, she felt she was being followed, but whoever was doing so was well-skilled. Arriving at the square, she found a spot next to a farmer selling cabbage and potatoes, laid her wool blanket on the ground, and spread out the pieces of silver jewelry.
While looking down at the jewelry, a pair of well-worn boots appeared before her. She raised her eyes and cried out, "Bragi! Where have you been? I missed you so much."
Bragi responded, "I have been on a quest to the King's Fortress and have brought this back for you." He showed her a roll of parchment.
"What need have I for a roll of parchment?" asked Elin.
"It is not the parchment that is important, Elin. Rather, it is the words upon the parchment."
"Tell me what they say!" demanded Elin.
"Meet me after the market, at our spot in the fir trees," was his reply. Pointing to the jewelry, he said, "That piece is exquisite. I would like to see that piece on the neck of the woman I wish to marry. Would you mind trying it on for me?"
Elin placed the necklace around her neck and said, "Before you is one of my father's finest works. He has placed a high value upon it."
Bragi smiled, "His daughter or his necklace? Or perhaps both?"
Elin blushed. Then she removed the necklace and held it in her hand. "Do you wish to make a purchase?" she asked.
"I cannot lay claim to such magnificence at the moment, but I promise to work hard and perhaps own it one day in the future."
"Own?" laughed Elin. "Perhaps you will be the one who is owned!"
Just then, Tormod, the Jarl's son, approached with two of his friends. "Excuse us, Bragi, but this space is reserved for customers who can afford to pay."
Bragi was embarrassed by his family's low status, so he tucked the parchment into the leather pouch on his belt, then stepped back and turned away.
"Elin, that piece you are holding looked quite lovely around your neck. I wish to buy it."
"My father values it highly," said Elin.
"I am the Jarl's son. I will pay whatever price I need to win my prize. If it cannot be bought, then I will take it."
Tormod paid the price Elin's father had set, then stepped behind Elin and placed the necklace on her. His right hand dropped down and squeezed Elin's bum cheek, and he whispered into Elin's ear, "I can't wait until I bed you on our wedding night. I will be like a stallion mounting a mare."
Elin drew a sharp breath, displeased at Tormod's use of such coarse language. Tormod noticed her reaction and said, "I see you can't wait either."
By the time the market ended, Elin managed to sell six more pieces of silver jewelry and knew her father would be pleased. But before going home with the good news, she wanted to meet with Bragi to hear the words on the parchment.
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Chapter 3
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Elin left the village and found a little used trail alongside a small stream. She passed through willows taller than her and knew she would be unseen. Leaving the trail, she climbed a small hill and entered a grove of fir trees. Scant sunlight penetrated the overlapping boughs, leaving a dappled pattern of light and shadow on the soft needles underfoot. Elin found Bragi waiting for her. Placing the basket of jewelry on the ground, she ran up to him, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him.
After a month-long separation, their kisses rose in intensity as each tried to make up for all the lost time. Breathless, they finally separated. Elin said, "Tell me about your journey. What was the King's Fortress like? Did you get to see the King?"
