"Saga" - chapter 3
Content - Brokeback Au!Au fic taking place in the Viking era (Scandinavia, ca AD 850).This chapter rated PG.
Disclaimer - The original Ennis and Jack who inspired this fic do not belong to me, but to Annie Proulx, Diana Ossana, Larry McMurtry and Focus Features. I intend no disrespect and make no profit.
A/N - See previous chapters. Explanations of names and terms follow after the chapter. Thank you to Soulan who beta’d this chapter.
Warnings - None for this chapter
Link to previous chapters:
Chapter 1: http://gilli-ann.livejournal.com/22271.html
Chapter 2: http://gilli-ann.livejournal.com/32308.html
Saga - chapter 3
Eoin and the other captives watched and waited while the Raven’s Wing was being secured along one of the wooden wharfs, and her sail, rigging and oars stowed. The warriors were in a hurry and readied themselves eagerly to leave the vessel. They brought forth their various bundles and chests of goods which had been lashed together and stored under the boards. The men shook out their good cloaks, fastened sword belts and put their helmets on.
Laughter, jokes and loud excited talk rang out from to stem to stern. The only silent ones were the thralls.
Eoin could not make sense of the Norse language, which was guttural and strange to his ears, but understood well enough which man considered himself his owner. His eyes followed the young golden-haired warrior who was readying his goods and gear. Eoin studied the man intently with a strangely puzzled frown on his thin, drawn face.
Before long the Norseman signaled to him to come forward. They were about to leave the ship.
Eoin turned to Bronagh and reached out his hands to her, and to the redhead, young Muirenn, who still followed the older woman as if she were her very shadow, though otherwise she was now much more composed.
“I cannot thank you enough, good Bronagh, for your care and your kind company. May the Lord be with you wherever you go in your life. And with you too, Muirenn.”
He made the sign of the cross over each of the disheveled women, and they bowed their heads in response.
“Farewell, and good luck, Eoin of Telach Og,” Bronagh responded, her voice low. “Go with God. I hope we may meet again and that life will treat you kindly till we do.”
“I hope so too. Good luck,” Muirenn added, her face sad and solemn.
Eoin flashed them a bright but slightly lopsided smile, the first he had given anyone since being brought onboard the Raven’s Wing.
“Oh, ladies, have no worries for me. Whatever these Norsemen may throw at me, and however they may treat me, I am quite sure I’ve already had far worse from my father,” he said with a shrug. “I will make it through. And if God wills it, we will meet again back in Ireland and see our home at last.”
Both women smiled bravely at these hopeful words, but as he turned to go the forced cheer abruptly died on their faces.
--
Einnis watched this their exchange from his position by the gangplank, where he stood ready to disembark with his friend Torgeirr. He saw the Irish man making his god’s sign over the two women, and snorted derisively.
Torgeirr shook his head in response. “They keep making their god’s sign often enough, but I haven’t seen what good it ever does them, or that this god of theirs has any kind of help to offer,” he said. “However much they fall to their knees and call out to him to help them when our warriors attack, they are beaten and vanquished. They would have been better off wielding good swords.”
Reflexively Einnis’s hand sought the silver Tor’s hammer he always carried on a thong around his neck, his amulet for luck and the thunder god’s protection.
“Tor is stronger,” he agreed. “Always a powerful helper, as long as you stay on his good side, and perform the offerings, and fight with courage.”
Among the warriors there was no doubt that the fiery-tempered Tor, son of Odin, was due the most respect and admiration. He never rested from his quest to smite the giants and malignant forces surrounding Midgard. His hammer threw devastating bolts of lighting across the skies, and the awe-inspiring sound of his wagon rumbled far and wide over the mountains.
The silver Tor’s hammer still in hand, Einnis watched the Irish man’s features light up with a smile, his whole face transformed and illuminated by that flash of white teeth. Ennis stared, for a moment transfixed in surprise, then hurriedly turned away to stare down at the stones and planks of the wharf.
“Come on now, let’s get going”, he said gruffly.
Torgeirr nodded. It was their turn. “Let’s go,” he agreed.
Einnis once more impatiently waved the thrall to follow. As soon as the man approached, he and Torgeirr descended the gangplank without a backwards look.
They were on firm land, a strange feeling after having lived many a night and day with the sea’s constant motion and at the whim of Ægir’s daughters.
Einnis was lucky in having befriended Torgeirr, who hailed from a farm less than half a day’s ride from Einnis’s own home. Not only had Torgeirr been on a raid before, and knew just where to go and what to do, but his clan also owned a share of a combined storage house and sleeping hall at Kaupang, and Einnis would be staying there till he had conducted his trading activity, purchases and sales, and so would be ready to return home to the farm at last.
The two men walked along the wharf through the hectic bustle of people, Eoin in tow, moving through the press of hawkers of all sorts and warriors eager to get to the inside of an ale hall or a brothel.
Torgeirr looked at Einnis, who like himself was carrying a small chest of possessions on his back, as well as his shield.
“By Tor, why don’t you have this thrall of yours carry your chest for you?” he asked. “The sooner he is shown his place, the better.”
Einnis shook his head. “He is weak still, and looks unwell. I am glad he survived at all. I need to get him in better shape to obtain a decent price.”
Torgeirr held his peace after that, but pointed out to Einnis where the thrall market halls were, in the second row of wooden sheds and low wattle-built houses. As they approached the place, Einnis could see people walking in and out of the doors. Trade seemed to be going very briskly.
--
Einnis left Eoin behind at the well-guarded thrall market, telling the manager of the place to let his thrall rest properly and to feed him well, and to see to it that he was given a shave, warm water and the use of a comb. He paid the tradesman his fee for these goods and services, and confirmed he would be back in a few days’ time to conduct his actual sales business.
That done, Einnis and Torgeirr walked straight on to Torgeirr’s clan’s house.
“I think you are making a mistake, not just selling that thrall today,” Torgeirr said. “You saw how the trade there was lively. In a few days, perhaps, all interested buyers will have found what they came to Kaupang for.”
“I’ll take my chances,” Einnis muttered. “I think I’ll get more, once he looks healthy and rested and well. Without those dark circles round the eyes.”
With that their talk turned to other things.
--
The two men dropped their belongings off at their destination, briefly greeted Torgeirr’s distant kinsfolk who were staying there at that time, got themselves a light meal, and went right on to visit the bath house.
They sat in the low, hot, steam-filled room for the longest time, luxuriating in the feel of muscles relaxing, of sweat and dirt from the long campaign dissolving and being sluiced off their heated skin. They washed, had their hair, beards and moustaches carefully cut and trimmed, and at length emerged back into the fresh air, dressed in clean shirts and trousers, their wild berserker looks completely gone.
Torgeirr was in high spirits, pounding Einnis on the back and laughing.
“You’re a new man! Now it’s possible to see what you look like! I bet I’m no worse than you. Oh, I bet I look way better! Women will be falling over themselves to get close to us,” he chortled. “And the fresh coins and trinkets in our purses will not make our prospects worse!”
Einnis quickly ducked away from his antics, frowning slightly. He started walking. "Well then, what are you waiting for?" he called over his shoulder.
Many of the Raven’s crew had already found their way to the main ale hall, and were sitting on the benches along the wall, well into the serious business of spending their loot, drinking heavily and pawing lecherously at the women, who were present for that very purpose. Shouts of boisterous greeting rang out to welcome Einnis and Torgeirr.
The fire in the middle of the hall was big, and the overly warm hall dense with wood-smoke, so thick it could be cut with a knife. It was more than enough to make Einnis’s eyes burn and itch. He was too used by now to the fresh air of the open seas.
He got himself a helping of good ale, and sat down with Torgeirr, the two of them drinking to each other’s health solemnly, saluting with the mugs before draining them in one go.
Through the din and noise in the dim room Einnis suddenly thought he heard someone calling his name, and looked around searchingly. The speaker was a tall and burly man, clad in a sumptuous green cloak and sporting a noticeable scar down his right cheek, holding a big ale mug in one hand and the other reaching out towards Einnis.
“Einnis? Einnis Elmarson Eldhug, is that you? Look at you, you’re a grown man, I hardly recognize you! Is that really you, brother?”
Einnis stared at the approaching warrior in wonder. Now he recognized the man, though he could hardly believe his eyes.
“Ketil! How come you here? We have thought you dead, and have mourned your passing, these five long years! Ketil!”
Einnis was so stunned, he forgot to move. But his older brother was more agile, grabbing him in a bear hug, thumping his back and grinning at him delightedly.
“I know, I know. It’s a long tale. But I’m alive, and well, and back home to stay at long last. And everyone calls me Ketil Efni now,” he added proudly. “Let’s get out of here, little brother. We have much to talk about!”
And so, Einnis followed him out of the hall, leaving a gaping Torgeirr behind.
Ketil’s unexpected return was unlooked-for and beyond hope, and would delight their sister Sigrid immensely. Yet this changed many things, not least Einnis’s own prospects. His older brother would be first in line for the family farmstead, where Einnis and Arna had agreed to settle.
Einnis would have to make new plans.
Tbc…
Comments and explanations;
- Ægir’s daughters is a Norse poetic term for the ocean waves
- Efni and Eldhug (“Material/means/ability” and “Fiery mind”): KE’s and Einnis’s nicknames and the background for them will be explained in due course. It was common for a lot of Norse men (and some women) to be known by this kind of distinctive nickname, usually referring to the bearer’s looks, character or some deed of his/hers.
- Tor (English Thor): Here’s a link to a romanticized painting of the god, complete with hammer, wagon drawn by goats, and smitten giants. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Thor.jpg
- Tor’s hammer amulets were extremely common among the Norse. A considerable number have been found in connection with archaeological digs etc. They range from small and simple ones in plain silver, to elaborately decorated ones in gold. The below image shows such a characteristic amulet.
- Midgard was the human world in Norse mythology, lying in between the gods’ realm (Asgard) and the giants’ chaotic and dangerous realm of Utgard.
