"Saga" - Chapter 12, Part 2
Chapter 12, part 2
For more on content, disclaimers and A/Ns, see the chapter’s part 1.
As soon as Eoin returned to report that the smithy was ready, Ketil wanted to take his rest for the night. Einnis followed him, looking back for a moment to see Eoin disappearing in the darkness. By now the thrall knew every little nook and cranny of the farm site and beyond, so much so that he probably could make his way blindfold.
Ketil ducked through the smithy’s low door and looked around.
“I should think, after having stayed in this miserable little hovel for months, you’ll be more than eager to come back home with me for a spell to enjoy better cheer and comfort than this,” he said, wasting no time in starting to undress.
Einnis stopped just inside the door, holding himself tense and still. “I’ll be back at the farm for Sigrid’s wedding, as you know.”
“No, I need you to come home with me tomorrow,” Ketil said. “I’m leaving behind nine men to work on your farm, you need have no worries on that score.”
“Tomorrow?” Einnis exclaimed. “I don’t think…. I can’t do that, Ketil. There’s too much here that I have to….”
“Are you that fond of breaking your back in the company of some stupid Irish thrall? No reason to be concerned, Einnis. Svein will be staying on here to lead the men. He’s solid, and you know it.”
Having by now shed all his clothes except his under-tunic, Ketil crept onto the pallet and made himself comfortable, drawing the blankets up to his chin. He sniffed loudly and pointedly, and then burst out laughing. “By Freya’s fine and firm behind, Einnis, you can’t deny that you’re desperate to get back home and to have yourself a woman, or two, or three!”
Pumping one hand vigorously up and down in the air over his groin to demonstrate his point, Ketil chuckled. “The smell in here is just like the one in a camp of warriors where there aren’t any whores to go round.”
He smirked knowingly. “Your right hand must be worn out!”
Einnis didn’t reply.
Ketil yawned. “Well, I am tired, let’s talk about serious matters in the morning. I have something to ask of you,” he said, and with that he fell asleep at once, sprawling under the blankets and snoring mightily. He had drunk more than his share of the ale in the course of the evening.
Einnis quietly undressed and lay down next to his brother, as close as possible to the pallet’s edge. He stared towards the closed door with dry unblinking eyes. It took a long time before sleep claimed him at last.
---
Einnis was up very early the next morning, throwing his clothes on and going outside before it was properly light. As he walked towards the men’s hastily erected tents he glimpsed Eoin’s brown cloak by the fire. The thrall was crouching down to feed the flames with new logs, and Einnis hurried in his direction. As he approached he saw that three of Ketil’s men were already up and sitting nearby, mumbling together in low tones, so Einnis restrained himself to a nod in Eoin’s direction, and a non-committal grunt. Saying a brief good-morning to the men, he walked on to the horse’s lean-to, and spent some little time checking on the animals, breathing in their comforting warmth and leaning his forehead against a warm flank. He stroked the animals’ soft muzzles and murmured a few endearments.
“Well now, this is where you’re hiding out!” Ketil looked in through the shed’s door, grinning. ”I might have known, you always seemed to like horses better than people.”
He looked around and shook his head. “It’s too narrow in here, no place to move or breathe - come on out, I’ll tell you what I’ve been planning!”
Einnis silently followed him outside, stamping his feet in the chill morning air and pulling his cloak around himself.
Ketil at once launched into his tale.
“Did you know that the master of Austrum was killed when that farm was burned? I suppose you heard as much, even up here? Well, his widow, Helga Hauksdottir, has since moved back to her own place. It was part of her dowry, as you know - so now she’s our neighbor. She holds a rich inheritance and large properties for herself and her young daughter. Though Austrum burned, its pastures remain!”
His eyes bored into Einnis’s. “If I married her, imagine the respect I would gain from such an alliance, the power I could wield at the Ting! All men would listen to me. I’d be among the mightiest men of the valley! Imagine having such a man for your brother, Einnis - consider the benefits to the clan!”
He drew a breath.
“I want you to come home to speak to Helga for me, to ask for her hand in marriage,” he said, his voice dropping in volume but gaining in intensity. “The matter is most urgent, otherwise I would have sent for father’s brother to travel up here to speak on my behalf. But there’s no time for that, I have had certain word that two chieftains in the valley are also getting ready to woo her!”
Einnis looked down at the old and dirty snow in front of his feet, speckled with mud, horse shit and rotting straw. “Have you had many words with her? Are you sure you two will get along?”
“Oh, bother, what does that have to do with anything?” Ketil flared up, then shrugged. “Forget what I said. I know you’re right. An unhappy wife, or one who’s a shrew, makes for tiresome days at the board, and little joy in bed.”
He clapped Einnis on the shoulder. “She’s a fine and strong woman, good-looking, and shrewd when it comes to increasing her riches. It would be a good match, and I am sure she realizes that just as much as we do.”
He grinned. “And let’s not forget, I’m not half bad to look at, and in bed I’ve got the size and stamina of Frey himself!” He winked. “They do say she’s a hot-blooded woman. We’ll be well matched.”
Ketil drew a breath. “So, will you come with me today now that you know what’s at stake? Our clan will be strengthened by this marriage. Her brothers are mighty men in Hadeland, and very well connected.
Einnis swallowed a sigh, and looked up. “Of course I’ll come with you, Ketil. This would be a truly advantageous match for you, and for all of us.”
Ketil beamed. “I’m glad, brother! That’s settled then. When we’ve eaten, have that thrall of yours pack up your belongings on a horse before he goes on to the tree-felling. We’ll leave as soon as we may!”
Einnis hesitated. “I’ll do that, Ketil, but I’ll have you know Eoin himself is one belonging that’ll be coming home with me.”
Ketil looked up sharply. “Eoin?”
Einnis bit his lip. “I meant Jaran, of course. He’s coming back home with me.”
“I see no reason for that. We have enough thralls at home, and you need workers to get the farm erected. Leave him here.”
Einnis shook his head insistently, not meeting his brother’s eyes.
Ketil pressed on. “Why are you so strangely occupied with this thrall’s wellbeing?”
“I’m not. I’m trying to be fair. He’s served me well and faithfully, day by day all this winter. He’s worked hard without fail. Look at all the lumber out there - do you think I managed all that on my own?”
“He’s a thrall, for Tor’s sake! I think you’ve forgotten that, alone here with him for so long. He’s supposed to work hard! That’s all they’re good for, what other reason to feed them and clothe them and keep them alive?”
Einnis looked up sharply. “Now that you mention keeping him alive - I think two of your men plan on harming Jaran,” he said coldly. “Do you know anything about that?”
“Maybe I do, and maybe I don’t, Einnis Eldhug,” Ketil said challengingly. “What of it? You’ll be much better off without this miserable being who has witnessed you working like a thrall yourself, like a poor wretch without kin or clan. He shouldn’t be allowed to spread such tales of you around, and you know he will, if given the chance. Thralls have no honor, they keep no secrets. Before you know it, people will start calling you Einnis the Thrall-turned! Your renown will be ruined, and the clan will suffer. It’s doubtful Helga Hauksdottir would abide calling a man of such dubious fame her brother-in-law.”
Einnis ground his teeth and balled his fists. “Be careful what you say to me, Ketil! Such insults can hardly be overlooked, even when a brother speaks them!”
“I’m not insulting you, I’m speaking the truth where you chose to disregard it! Hard truths maybe, but no less real for that!”
“You’re exaggerating, Ketil. People know why I was up here alone. They’ll say I stay true to my oaths and keep my word, in good times and bad - and better renown I think a man can hardly earn himself.”
Ketil drew a steadying breath. “I’ll gift you with another thrall, just as strong and able” he said earnestly. “Let my men deal with this one.”
Einnis looked at him, his eyes turning to slits in his drawn face. “Do you remember that beat-up thrall father cut down right in front of us when we were boys, killing him for no good reason at all? Is that the fate you think Jaran deserves?”
“He’s just a thrall! A thrall, Einnis! You seem to be dealing with him as if he were a family member. For shame! The creature probably thinks that he must be your long lost brother!”
Ketil shook his head angrily. “If he isn’t around to boast about the generosity you’ve apparently been showing him, no-one will ever know enough to embellish the stories about your lowering yourself to treat a thrall almost as if he were your equal. Kill him and such tales die with him. Your good name as a courageous man and a strong warrior will be secure, and the renown of the clan will not be tarnished.”
Einnis looked over to the camp site, where all the men were now gathering for the morning meal. In addition to Eoin there were eleven men, loyal to Ketil, the free-men well trained in arms-play, strong and rested.
“I’m no thrall-friend! I remember my station, and my worth! You’ve put me down before, you once called me a girl,” Einnis grated. “Do you recall how that turned out?”
“I do remember,” Ketil said evenly, stretching himself to his full well-muscled height. “I am not saying you lack balls, brother, and back then you proved that you don’t. But we’re grown men now, and ill-advised deeds may be due to thoughtlessness or lack of foresight and judgment, not lack of courage. In such cases a brother is the closest one to intervene.”
He stepped right up in Einnis’s face, his voice low and insistent. “I’m telling you, if you keep that thrall with you, if you let him live to talk about this winter and your companionship, you’ll be deemed less of a man, and men of good standing will scorn you for having demeaned yourself so. And don’t forget, nothing travels as fast as the ugliest lies and most slanderous tales, so have a care, little brother!”
Einnis grew deathly pale. “What do you mean?” he whispered hoarsely.
Ketil’s voice sank to a mere whisper in turn. “Think about how people are always eager to believe the very worst, Einnis. You two have been alone here for months without womenfolk. If your long-haired and foreign thrall speaks too well of your kindness and care some might take it into their heads to wonder whether you grew soft enough to use him as your woman.”
Einnis recoiled, stepping back swiftly, a growl escaping his constricted throat even as his fists came up.
Ketil quickly held out his hands, placatingly. “I know you, Einnis. I know you would rather die than ever commit such shameful, unmanly acts. But idle tongues are too easily set to wagging. You can’t take that risk.”
Einnis closed his eyes and shuddered, lowering his head. His shoulders slumped. Eventually he responded, softly as a sigh.
“Perhaps you’ve got a point, Ketil. Yet if I were to let you do this deed, all men would call me an oath-breaker for sure, for I have already traded Jaran off to Torgeirr. We shook hands on the deal at yuletide.”
Ketil started in surprise. “What?”
“We agreed about this when I rode with him on his return journey. He’ll take Jaran back with him when he leaves your farm after the marriage.”
Ketil shrugged. “So, we’ll just give him another fit thrall.”
“No. He needs an Irish thrall, and one who already knows his ambatt and how to deal with her. She’s carrying Torgeirr’s child and he wants to do well by her when he sends her away. He wants Jaran and no other.”
“Do well by his ambatt?” Ketil spat, incredulous. “Torgeirr seems far too soft-hearted when it comes to women. Next thing you know, he’ll go even further and make a free-woman of the slut!”
“It’s hardly a bad thing that the man who’s marrying our sister is kind to his women,” Einnis said, a hint of sharpness and exasperation returning to his voice. “No need to bad-mouth him overly much on that score! And however all that is, I’ve made a deal. Would you have me break my word to our brother-in-law as the first thing I do when he marries Sigrid?”
Ketil frowned. “No. I want us to be on the best of terms with Torgeirr. It would make no sense to annoy him for such a little reason. The kinship with him is important. Especially now, when I need to prove our clan’s worth to Helga.”
Einnis pushed his advantage, trying to regain a small sliver of all the ground he’d lost. “Do I have your word then that you’ll let Jaran be, till Torgeirr takes him away in a few weeks’ time?”
Ketil's jaws clenched and his eyes blazed, but he nodded.
“Yes, brother. You have my word.”
He made to leave, but looked back at Einnis over his shoulder to deliver a harsh parting shot. "Now mind you keep yourself far away from that annoying thrall of yours. Don't give my men or our people at the farm the slightest further reason to talk about the two of you, or I’ll consider my promise void!"
With that Ketil abruptly marched back to the fire where the men had gathered, his costly cloak billowing out behind him like the sail of a longship leaving for distant shores.
Einnis stood rooted to the spot for a while, staring after him with unseeing eyes.
---
Soon thereafter the brothers left for home, riding in front of a small retinue consisting of two men-at-arms and Eoin, who followed last trailing a packhorse.
The brothers found few things to say to each other, and the whole company’s mood was somber and uneasy. They all huddled in their cloaks, heads down, shielding their faces from occasional flurries of stinging hailstones. It was a long ride home.
Tbc………
Note and explanations;
Second marriages - A woman’s first marriage was arranged by her family and certainly required the consent of her clan, or she would be considered her husband’s ambatt and her inheritance (and that of her children) would be forfeit. Widows and divorcees of independent means however had the unilateral right to give themselves away in a new marriage, although it was considered good form to consult with the clan.
Giving thralls freedom - Thralls could under fortunate circumstances manage to buy themselves free, or could on rare occasions be given freedom by their masters. Such events by Norse law required considerable legal process and ceremony. The Norse sagas have some (few) examples of women who were given freedom after mothering the son of a king or a wealthy man. The practice probably became more frequent after AD 1,000; but at the time of this story it was a rare exception, and not something that most thrall owners would ever consider. The rigid class system, the cheap thrall labor and the strong belief in every person’s fate being preordained contributed to this situation.
Kill the thrall to keep him silent - Some Norse sagas mention such practices. For instance, one of the Norse kings’ sagas contain the tale of a man who breaks into a barrow to get hold of certain buried heirlooms. He brings along a thrall to do the digging for him, and immediately afterwards kills the poor thrall to keep him from talking.