Scarburg Meadhall

[littlemanpoet]

"If we could be convince Rowenna to stay and take your place in the kitchen, you could help me give direction to a pair of apprentices. What we need is a few more women about the place!"

Ginna laughed.

They talked and joked until they joined the general hubbub of preparations for the wedding. Ginna saw Saeryn first and pointed her out. They went to her and showed her the sword Harreld had chosen.

[Thinlómien]

The night was drawing closer. Saeryn and Eodwine hadn't had anything more for her to do. Frodides and Kara were busy in the kitchen, and she would have been just on the way there. Léothern, who had waken up early and had no nap, had fallen asleep in the kitchen corner and Cnebba and Garmund had disappeared once again. Modtryth would find the kids well in time before the ceremony, but now she had the ideal chance to give the final touch to the preparations.

She made it to the circle of poles they had constructed earlier. She had brought a stool for herself. Standing on it, she started lighting the lanterns. The work was slow, as even with the stool and a long stick dipped in oil she had difficulties in reaching the lanterns. However cleverly she placed the stool, she could only light two lanterns before climbing down and moving the stool again.

"That looks difficult. May I help?" an unfamiliar voice asked from the shadows.
Modtryth turned calmly and saw an old man draped in a cloak.
"You surprised me," she said in a neutral tone. She now remembered seeing the same old man around earlier, evidently he was a new guest.
"For that I am sorry," the man smiled. "But, may I help you?"

Modtryth laughed. "With all respect, sir, you are old, and climbing and reaching out here and there like this is better be left for those younger than you. So, thank you for your kind offer, but I will manage better than fine."
Now it was the stranger's turn to laugh. It was an old man's chuckle, a chuckle at a jest that the youngers are not wise enough to understand. "I was thinking more something like... this." He snapped his fingers and the lantern Modtryth had been about to light was lit with a bright flame.

Despite herself, Modtryth drew a sharp breath. The man smiled, then snapped his fingers once again and another lantern was lit.

"Who are you?" Modtryth asked.
"I'm called Eodwemer, and my craft is the dweomercraft," the old man said, and added, almost apologetically: "I'm no master of fire, that is merely a simple trick any trickster can do."

Any trickster... Modtryth wondered sourly at the man's phrasing, but was glad that the tricksters called Cnebba and Garmund were unlikely to ever learn such a trick.

The man was still looking at her, somewhat expectantly. Yes, indeed, she had forgotten to present herself. "I am Modtryth," she said, climbing down from the stool and extinguishing the lighting stick. "I'm a sort of housekeeper here, as well as a maid, in a way. And I also look after the children. And help at the kitchens." What a very clear introduction, she thought, amused. The man called Eodwemer seemed rather amused too.

"My husband is Stigend, the carpenter," she added. The old man nodded. "I met him. A pleasant young man." Not quite the way Modtryth would have described her husband, but it amused her, once again.

"Shall I light the rest of the lanterns, then?" Eodwemer asked, nodding his head politely.
"If you will, sir, that would be very kind," Modtryth replied formally, but gave the stranger a warm smile.

The old man snapped his fingers several times, and with each snap one lantern was lit. They glowed warmly in the gathering darkness.

"Thank you," Modtryth said. Everything that had been in her power to do was ready now, all she had to do anymore was to wait for the ceremony that would start soon.

[Nogrod]

Stigend looked insecure and reluctant to give any advice on courting. But Garstan decided there was no way out for him.

“Okay guys, just a few more planks to go and we have finished this, then we’ll have ample time for Stigend to tell his story. Would you Balvir go and get us some ale? It sure isn’t an errand for Erbrand…” He gave a pause and smiled widely. “We’ll get this done while you’re on your way.”

Garstan punched Stigend lightly on the shoulder. “C’mon mate, you’ve promised to tell me that part of the story like ten times. Isn’t this the perfect time for it, weddings and all?”

Stigend sighed heavily and shrugged. “Okay then… but I’m afraid it won’t help you Erbrand.”


The platform was soon finished and the men sat on it sharing the ales Balvir had brought them from the kitchens. It had taken him some arguing with Kara, but after she had heard what they had been doing – and that they would be sharing a love-story on this wedding-day – she had finally agreed that they both had earned and needed their ales. It was time for Stigend to tell his story.

Erbrand looked particularly worried, like he was thinking what had Balvir actually told Kara about the topics they would discuss. Garstan couldn’t help noticing it but remained tactfully silent.

Stigend took a deep draught of the ale and began.

“Some of you know part of the story already so I’ll keep those parts short. Modtryth is a daughter of an Eorling lord and a Dunleding servant-girl. She has the pride of an Eorling and the stubborness of a Dunleding…” Stigend shook his head smiling slightly. Garstan nodded knowingly.

“Anyway… I had my troubles in my youth like we all had. I ran away from my family and joined the militia when I was sixteen. I was trained to be a man-at-arms, a spearman to be more precise. But I never got used to the discipline and the hierarchical system and came back.”

Stigend took another draught and looked at the men around him. “I took to my father’s trade then, carpentry. But only then I actually realised Modtryth’s presence in the village. I had known there was a mysterious half-Dunleding in our village but I had been younger then and she had been like a child as well. But while I had been a way I had kind of become a man… and she had become a woman. But she was a Dunleding-woman for the villagers. A Dunleding meant war, filth and treachery back in my village. A Dunleding was spelled either ‘enemy’ or ‘slave’ back there. Well you can see it. Our village was in the Westfold, near the Fords of Isen… so the people had their reasons to hate those people. I only understand it now with calm reason. But those times… oh, those times I thought it was petty, malicious and unjustified witch-hunt whose target was a totally innocent… and beautiful girl. Indeed the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. And what made me fall in love with her in the end were her guts… Even as scolded, beaten and harassed she kept her pride, like there was no force to break her.” Stigend fell down to his thoughts for a moment but then raised his head up again and took a sip from his pint.

“So? How did it go?”, Balvir asked.

“Well, there were these two ruffians, Thanneth and Melden, both sons of wealthy farmers in our village. And they had decided to have their fun with her, violently. But I happened to catch them before they had done anything else but beaten her… I did beat the two black and blue with a hay pole…”

“Wooo, a hero defending a good lady in trouble!” Garstan smiled and raised his pint. “To our hero!”, he toasted and smiled even wider.

“Well, that wasn’t so heroic... They were just slackers who only had courage to tease those weaker than themselves, preferably two against one… and I had military training, remember.”

It looked like Stigend felt very much relieved after finally telling that part of his story with Modtryth. Garstan wondered to himself why it had been so hard for him to tell the story in the first place. It was a story of courage and love after all. He would ask Stigend about it later.

“And then?”, Balvir was clearly excited and even Erbrand and Lithor looked keen on hearing the rest.

“Hmm…” Stigend took another long draught and almost laughed. “Well, I did learn that Dunledings – half-Dunledings at least – are quite quick with their passion”. He winked an eye to Garstan and all bursted into a knowing laughter shared by men in so many occasions.

But Stigend soon got more serious again. “But I was probably the first Eorling who had treated her as a human being worthy of being saved from harassment… Others would have just looked on or turned their heads away had they dropped in while Thanneth and Melden were having their fun.”

Balvir was quick to lighten up the situation again. “Like you said Stigend, you Erbrand should not try to do what he did. I suggest you do not go bruising people to prove your love to Kara…”

“Like he hadn’t tried that already!” Garstan put in. And they all laughed so much that tears ran from their eyes. Only Garstan wondered whether Stigend’s tears were solely due to laughter.

[Folwren]

Saeryn and Rowenna had just come out of the tent when Ginna spotted them. Saeryn’s face was flushed with a healthy pink. Her eyes shone with a bright light as she and Rowenna laughed together. Ginna and Harreld came hurrying towards them. Saeryn reached out her hands in greeting.

“Ginna, I’m so excited. . .and nervous,” Saeryn said breathlessly.

Ginna took her hands and the two girls kissed lightly. “Of course you are, Saeryn dear,” Ginna said. “That’s only natural. You’ve accomplished the hard thing now, the rest is easy.”

“What hard thing?” Saeryn asked.

“Making him fall in love with you and actually asking,” Ginna replied, a twinkle in her eye.

Saeryn laughed, but it ended somewhat abruptly, and her eyes darted past Harreld and Ginna to where everyone was beginning to gather. She laid her hand on her fluttering stomach. Was she actually frightened? No, it was only the sheer magnitude of her excitement that caused her stomach to tighten so.

“Harreld and I wanted to show you the sword," Ginna said. "If you approve, you may have it to give to Eodwine.” Harreld put the sword forward, extending the hilts to Saeryn. She reached out her hand and drew it from the scabbard.

“It’s a beautiful sword, Harreld,” she said. “I wish I could repay you for it.”

[littlemanpoet]

"If you could convince Ginna's father to bless our handfasting I'd consider the debt paid, lady."

Eodwine came out of his tend with Thornden.

"What have we here?" he asked.

"Lord," said Harreld, "Lady Saeryn has decided that this sword is a fitting gift for your handfasting."

Eodwine examined the blade and his eyes widened. "I daresay it is better than the one I give away! Harreld, you are a wonder!" He included them al with a glance. "It appears that all arrangements have been made and our friends our gathering yonder. Let us go, shall we?"

Eodwine offered his arm to Saeryn who took it; Harreld did the same to Ginna who took his. Thornden and Rowenna were left standing, facing each other. She broke the short silence.

"Well, Thornden, are you going to offer me your arm, or should I offer you mine?" She allowed an amused half grin to play on her lips.

[Folwren]

Thornden smiled in return, and almost laughed. “That would hardly be proper,” he answered, as he offered his arm. Rowenna’s hand slid under it and together they turned to follow the others.

“You have made Lady Saeryn look like an elven maiden,” Thornden said, looking ahead at Saeryn and Eodwine.

“It was not difficult to bring out her beauty,” Rowenna replied. “It took little skill on my part.”

Thornden looked from Saeryn to Rowenna and back again. All he could see of the bride was the back of her head, but even that view was rewarding, for Rowenna had fashioned her hair in such a way that long braids twisted and intertwined about her head, but still allowed long locks of auburn hair to tumble curling down her back. It was beautiful piece of handiwork and Thornden knew it, and appreciated it.

He smiled, then, as he looked at Rowenna, knowing well that she could rightfully take more credit for her work. “You are very lovely tonight, too,” he said.

[Groin Redbeard]

Erbrand felt his face grow red with embarrassment and anger. Stigend’s joke seemed to strike a chord of familiarity with those who shared in it. Even if Stigend was in jest, his prying words cut deep; especially since Erbrand did not take the matter lightly. Thornden was now his enemy even more so than the vagabond Crabannan. Crabannan was Erbrand’s enemy for the fact of prying too much and Thornden was his enemy for interfering. The bruises on Erbrand’s body flared up in pain as he thought with black hatred of Thornden and the fight.

“Come now, Erbrand, do not look so glum.” Lithor said. His voice and face were happy, but he was no longer laughing. “What do say to Stigend’s story, does it help you any?”

Erbrand’s dry expression moved from Lithor to Stigend and then bowed his head for a second in thought. Stigend’s story had certainly been revealing about Modryth and certainly of Stigend’s character, but it helped Erbrand little in his case with Kara. In Stigend’s case, Modryth did not seem to like Stigend much; however, Erbrand knew that Kara liked him (at least she let on to like him). Then a light came into Erband’s eyes as he went over the story in his head. The point in the story where Stigend’s relationship changed was when he proved his worth to Modryth by saving her. A situation of such dire consequences might not arise in his-own case but there were certainly other ways to prove his worth to Kara. He smiled as the idea of how he would prove himself unfolded in his mind. A deep enduring fire was at that moment lit in Erbrand’s heart and he vowed that he would not let it die until Kara accepted or rejected him

“What are thinking?” Lithor asked, after seeing that Erbrand was lost in thought. Erbrand jumped slightly as if being suddenly roused from a pleasant sleep.

“Nothing,” Erbrand said unconvincingly, “The story has indeed been of great help, Stigend, and I thank you for telling it to me. I now understand what I must do.” Erbrand smiled and nodded his head to say a silent ‘thanks.’ Stigend returned the smile and gesture.

“Look yonder.” Lithor stepped down from the platform and was immediately joined by Balvir and Matrim. They could see Eodwine along with Saeryn, Thornden, and Rowenna slowly nearing the crowd. “Our Lord and Lady have finally come. To our posts men!”

Stigend and Erbrand melted into the crowd in search of wife and sweet-heart, while the soldiers slowly formed a walkway in crowd for the lord and lady to walk down. More soldiers came bearing torches and took their places along the walkway to form a majestical sight. The more important of the Eorl’s Household (meaning the chief guards and honored guest) stood on either end of the platform and waited with silent reverence for the ceremony to commence.