Emer's Quest (Manannan Trilogy) (10 page)

“May Fr
eyja grant us many sons.” Then she too drank deeply, although the sickly sweetness of the mead made her feel ill. She wondered how she would be able to manage in the next four weeks, when she would be expected to drink honey-wine constantly.

S
he sat down again and Rolf came up to the table, handing Hari a hammer which he carefully laid on her lap, to bless her womb. Blin turned to face the room and spoke the blessing to Frigga, the goddess of childbearing,

Bring the hammer the bride to bless:
On the maiden's lap lay ye Mjolnir;
In Frigga's name  then our wedlock hallow!
 

Emer found it difficult to eat and drink
, even though choice meats were offered to her and even sweetened cakes which she usually liked. She could not help thinking about the night to come and what Hari might expect from her. Her apprehension mounted so much that she thought she might choke. She was heartily glad when, for her at least, the feasting ended. She was led away by some of the women to be put into bed. A hut had been assigned to the newly wed couple for this night and someone had lit lanterns inside. The high bed had already been made, wild flowers strewn across it.

They helped her out of her clothes and into a plain linen s
hift, then they pulled the coverings over her.

“I’ve brought something for you.” Freydis set a wreath of
leaves and flowers on her head, laughing as she did so.

“You can do the same for me when I marry Njall,” she
giggled.

Emer heard the men shouting
outside as they brought her bridegroom to the hut. Hari, too, wore only a smock underneath his cloak. The covers were thrown back and he sat down beside her, quickly pulling the furs over them both. Lots of ribald jokes were made and then, with a bustle and many giggles, everyone left and Emer was alone with Hari. A single lantern lighted the hut and she stole a peek at him, only to find that he was doing the same to her. They both smiled and then he drew back sharply as if he had been stung.

“So we are married.” He
said grimly, taking her hand and gripping it hard. “What next?”

“That is for you to say.”
She looked at him closely. There was an expression on his face which she thought was odd. “What is it?”

“Did
my father tell you that he ordered me not to lie with you, so that you would not quicken with my child?”

“Never!” Emer
bolted upright. “Why would he do such a thing?”

“
You did not know?”

“Of course I did not
know! Atli never said anything to me and neither did any of the women who came to instruct me in these last few days. They spoke about the duties of a wife and how children are made. They said absolutely nothing about
not
making them!”

Hari stared at her, then he
nodded. “Even
Fadir
would not stoop so low as to spread his plots around the village.”

“What did you say to him when he told you?”

“I asked him if he wanted me to proclaim myself a eunuch to all the people. He said it should not matter to me. I wanted to live among the monks and they are celibate. All he was doing was offering me a halfway house — a marriage that is not a true marriage.”

“
Why does he want you to act this way?”

“
If you bear a child, you will lose your powers to see into the future. He values your ability more than he wants a grandchild, from me at least. This way, you would continue to have dreams and still be tied to our family’s interests. I would have the type of life he thinks I want, which is why he wanted me to marry you, not Rolf. Do your dreams matter so much to you?”

“They don’t matter
to me at all. I would rather not dream the things I do, but I promised to obey Atli.”

“He has not spoken to you about this
in any way?”

“No
, please believe me. I knew nothing about it until you told me now.”

“
I do believe you.” He smiled and his smile was not nice. “It seems as if
Fadir
has blundered for once. He’s given
you
no orders, so you
can’t
disobey him. He bid you marry me and you have. I am your husband and it is a wife’s place to obey her husband, not her father-in-law.”

“He gave
you
an order.”

“But I never took an oath
, so I break no vows. I have been disregarding his orders for many years in small things and he has never found out. Not that I would care if he did. What father has the right to tell his son not to sleep with his new wife?”

“
None.” Emer nodded horrified that Atli could even propose such a thing.

“His demand is unreasonable. No one would support him in this if they
knew. He was wrong to ask it of me.”

“
I agree. What do you wish us to do then?”

He grinned at her. “What husbands and wives
usually do on their wedding night.”

“But if I quicken with child, Atli will know you have disobeyed him.”

“We will face that difficulty when and if it arises. Now come to me. The pleasures of the marriage bed are said to be sweet. Let’s find out if they truly are.”

The following morning, Emer was glad she had
obeyed Hari. She was sore, but he had proved to be a kind lover, helping her along, but making very sure that she was no longer a virgin. She could not help wondering how she would have fared if Rolf had been her husband or Finnr. Rolf was unlikely to be the gentle type and she suspected Finnr would have been as fumblingly unpractised as she was herself. In the middle of the night she had asked Hari how he knew how to please her so well. He laughed.

“No great mystery to it. All boys are told
what to do when they come to manhood and I lost my virginity years ago.”

“Kara?”

“Amongst others. We enjoyed each other for a little while before I left for
Eyin Helga.
”

“
Where you decided to be a monk and forget women for ever.”

“After having you, I am not so sure
it would have been the right choice. Perhaps there are more pleasant things in life than peace from strife and painting golden letters.”

Emer
slept deeply and it was well after dawn when she was awoken by a scratch on the door. It was pushed back and she saw Freydis’ smiling face, Kolla and Blin right behind her. There was no sign of Drifa or Halla, for which she gave thanks to Freyja. The women’s faces were agog.

“Get up, lazybones,” Freydis said, pulling back the covers. As she rose,
Kolla and Blin looked closely at the smears of blood that marked the bed underneath her. She had a vivid memory of Hari staring at them last night before he took a knife and cut his arm, adding more blood to that which was there. When she had asked him what he was doing, he said,

“My father
told me there was no need to proclaim myself a eunuch. All I had to do was cut myself and rub some blood on the bed so no one would know.”

“But it is marked already,” she
argued.

“He w
on’t know that and I can show him this scratch if he asks.” He tried to tie a piece of cloth round his arm to stem the bleeding but he was awkward, one-handed.

“Let me do that,” Emer had said, taking
the piece of linen from his hand and binding up the small wound.

“Caring for me now?” he asked
with amusement.

“If you will
allow me.”

“What’s he like in bed?” Freydis asked
her later.

“Good.
You were right. We did have fun.”

“Glad to hear it.
Tell me. Perhaps Njall and I can try a few new things ourselves.”

“Certainly not.
Wait for your own wedding night.”

“
Stop gossiping, girls.” Kolla said sharply, although she had been listening as eagerly as Freydis.

“
We’re here to help you dress and to show you how to arrange your hair now you are a married woman,” Blin said to Emer. “This is how you wear it.”
She braided Emer’s hair and bound it round her head. Kolla handed Blin a long, white, finely-pleated linen cloth called a
hustrulinet
. This was secured on top of Emer’s braids, hiding her hair.

When she was dressed, Emer was led into the
hall to complete the final legal requirements of the marriage. Before his father and most of the community and guests, Hari fastened his morning-gift, a silver broach onto Emer’s cloak. He also put into her hands a bunch of keys, which fitted various locks around the settlement. The keys symbolised Emer’s new authority as the mistress of Hari’s household.

In the week that followed, the
feasting and merriment continued. Dancing, wrestling, and good-natured insult-contests were fun for everyone in the village. A couple of people told
lygisogur
, or “lying stories”, which they invented for the occasion, including tales about famous warriors, locals and animals. Others read verses or sang ballads about romance, travel, fighting and the supernatural. Emer enjoyed it all, but found that the continual merrymaking exhausting, when she was the focus of it all. She felt secretly glad when the last guests took to their boats and normal life began again.

10

A couple of days later, Rolf and his men also left on another trading voyage.
This was Atli’s idea, so Hari told Emer. She could not help breathing a sigh of relief. In Rolf’s presence she was always on edge. Now she had a chance to discover more about the place where she would spend the rest of her life. Rolf had made no attempt to speak to her before he left, for which she was profoundly grateful. He did speak to Hari, though, as he was stepping aboard the boat, and there was something uncomfortable in both their stances that caught her eye.

“What did he say to you?” Emer asked
when Hari returned to her side and they both watched the ship slide out into the bay.

“He wished me joy in my marriage.”

“A very proper thing for him to say,” she murmured, feeling surprised.

“Not the way he said it.” H
ari’s eyes were angry and Emer slipped her hand into his, pulling him away from the crowd who had gathered to watch the departure.

“I
’m glad he’s gone,” she said. “When he’s here, it’s as if I’m waiting for a storm to break.”

“Rolf would rejoice to hear you say so.
He likes unsettling people. You should ignore him like I do.”

Yet Emer knew that
, in this, he lied. Hari might pretend to ignore his brother in public, but she knew just how much he seethed when no one else was present. Rolf had discovered exactly how to anger and irritate Hari long ago. Without him, for a while at least, their lives could gain some peace and normality.

Now she was married, Emer was given more duties in the household. She found that her mother had taught her many of the skills she needed
. Emer was grateful to her, but Niamh had never run as big an establishment as the one on
Skuy
. The size of the place, with its varied activities, seemed daunting to a young girl. Emer was unsure of many of her decisions. At first, she deferred to others until Blin took her to one side and told her,

“Stand up for yourself. Make a decision and don’t be argued out of it by
anyone. You’re the wife of Atli’s eldest son. You stand second only to Drifa among the women in this place.”

“But what if I make a mistake?”

“You won’t be the first and you won’t be the last. That’s how everybody learns. If it’s something important come to me or to Kolla. Neither of us will lead you wrong, if only for
Mabil’s sake. Make the small decisions yourself. Even a bad decision is better than no decision and hesitating over everything will only make you unpopular in the end.”

Taking Blin’s words to heart, Emer began to
make progress. She expected opposition and grumbling but unexpectedly she found very little of either. She did make mistakes and she tried to learn from them. Most of the women were helpful or, at worst, indifferent. Only Drifa, Halla and their friends looked on, offering no help and speaking critically of her occasional blunders. She stayed away from them as much as she was able.

“How am I
really doing?” she asked Freydis, after once such incident, when they were in the bathhouse alone.

“Better than you did at first.”

“Gabbi keeps grumbling at me.”

“Gabbi grumbles at everyone. Pay her no mind. Kolla
says you’re doing well.”

“How do you know that?”

“I overheard her telling Blin.”

Emer smiled. “Thank you for telling me. You’ve made me feel much better.”

“I’d better warn you though…”

“About what?” Emer felt a pang of dismay.

“Drifa thought you’d get into a terrible mess, that’s why she left you alone and gave you no advice. You haven’t and she’s not pleased. She wanted to nag Atli about the bad bargain he made and keep chortling about your lack of skill.”

“
Modir
taught me well. I hope I get a chance to tell her so one day.”

“You will. Hari will take you if you ask. He seems smitten with you. I’d never thought he would be interested in any woman after Kata.”

“Did you know her?”

“I did.”

“Tell me about her.”

“Little to tell. A beautiful face and an empty mind. She’d have driven Hari mad if he’d married her. He’s not the one to tolerate his wife messing around with other men and that was her favourite pastime. He had a lucky escape when she ran off with
Dagfinn. I never thought to say it, but he’s changed since he’s been with you and for the better.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Emer said with a grin. “
What do you think Drifa will do now I’ve disappointed her?”

“
Drifa
won’t do anything; that’s not her way. If anything nasty has to be done, she gets Halla or one of the others who toady up to her to do it. Halla’s clever in a twisted way, so watch out for her.”

“Thank you for warning me. I will.”  

That night, Emer mentioned to Hari the things Freydis had said.

“Kolla
’s right. You’re doing well. Even
Fadir
has noticed it. He is very pleased with you.”

“I’m glad, but do you think Freydis is right about Halla?”

“Probably. Halla thinks she’s better than she is, because Drifa confides in her. They grew up together in
Myl
and Halla came here with her when she married
Fadir
. Both of them are nasty women but there’s a limit to what they can do. Neither of them likes me, yet I’ve managed to survive all these years in spite of them.”

“Why doesn’t Drifa like you?”

“The obvious reason. When Atli dies, part of his property goes to me. As his eldest son, I would expect to inherit more than her precious Rolf. She begrudges me every piece of silver or plot of land. Fortunately,
Fadir
is a healthy man and likely to live for many years, especially if he stops going on trading voyages.”

Emer turned away, so he should not see the sudden emotion on her face
. She changed the subject rather abruptly, asking him about what he had been doing that day. He looked startled but answered her question and their talk drifted to other matters.

That night, w
ith Hari sleeping beside her, Emer deliberately recalled her last dream. In it Atli was dead, ‘with no mark on his body’. Sickness often killed without leaving a mark, but so could poison. Did anyone have a good reason to kill him? Atli had led an adventurous life up to this point, but it was true he was leaving more things to his sons now, especially to Rolf. He did not go on every voyage, nor did he travel around
Skuy
, as had once been his custom. He seemed calm, expecting no danger. The only thing that had changed recently was her marriage to Hari. Atli expected their union to be barren, so nothing else would change, but what if she bore a child? Should the baby survive, he or she would be another person with a claim to Atli’s wealth. She rubbed her flat stomach. She did not think she had quickened yet, but her monthly courses were due soon and then she would find out. If she
was
with child, they would have to make some decisions about their future. Certainly they would have displeased many people, important ones, and she had little doubt that there would be consequences.

As she became more adept in her tasks, Emer was able to f
inish them more quickly. This left her time for other pastimes. She often sat with Freydis and the other young women telling stories or playing at riddles. A girl called Romi taught her how to dance. Another girl, Tirsa, showed her how to sew in brightly coloured patterns. She liked both of them and a couple of others called Laara and Arla. Arla was said to be the best female archer in the settlement.

“No woman has ever beaten her and few of the men. If she was stronger, they wouldn’t either.”

“Can you shoot?” Arla asked Emer one day.

“
Yes, but I left my bow and arrows at home.”

“No matter. I have several
sets and you can borrow mine. Would you like to try your skill against me?”

“
Perhaps.” Emer could see Freydis shaking her head violently and mouthing the word ‘no’.

“
With a small wager against the outcome?”

“Don’t do it, Emer,” Freydis said. “
Arla never loses.”

Emer smiled. “I have little to wager, as you probably know.”

“The green stone from around your neck?”

Automatically Emer’s hand flew to her neck and clasped
the stone tightly. “Not that, it is all I have to remind me of home. I could never part from it. If I lose the contest, though, I will do all your sewing for a week. How is that for a wager?” Everyone laughed. Arla’s fingers were clumsy and she hated sewing.

“And if I lose?”
Arla asked but her expression said that it was not something she expected to happen.

“Whatever you think the win is worth.”

“Good. Shall we go then?”

All the girls went outside while
Arla fetched several bows and quivers of arrows.

“You shouldn’t have
agreed,” Freydis whispered to Emer. “Can you shoot at all?”

“Certainly I can
, although I am out of practice these last few months,” Emer replied. “No great matter if I lose. I like sewing.”

“What’s going on?”
Atli came over to them.

“
Arla challenged Emer to a shooting contest.”

“And you accepted?”
Atli’s eyebrows rose. “You’re either brave or very foolish. Which is it?”

“We’ll see.” Emer smiled. S
he was a good shot. Olaf, who always told her the truth, had said so years ago. She had competed against few opponents, but she had shot hares and birds for the pot. She relished the chance to pit her skill against others.

Emer tested
the bows Arla offered her until she found one to her liking. Word had spread through the village and a small crowd gathered to see the outcome of the contest.

“I
’m ready,” Emer said.

A row of posts had been erected
permanently along the beach to serve as targets. They had marks painted upon them at various levels and it was at these marks that the girls aimed.

“You first,”
Arla said.

“No, I am a stranger here. Show me how it is done.”

Arla shrugged, stepped forward, drew her bow and shot. The arrow hit the nearest post and stayed quivering, a little below the mark and to the right. Arla smiled and stepped back.

Emer glanced at the sea, taking note of the slight wind that ruffled the waves. It was blowing from her left. She adjusted the way she stood, to compensate. Then she deliberately aimed at a post a little distance beyond the one w
hich Arla had hit. The bow drew smoothly. She released the arrow and watched it as it flew straight, hitting the post exactly on the mark.

“You’re good,”
Arla said, frowning. She stared at Emer as if she was measuring her as an opponent. “Shoot another one to prove neither of our shots was lucky?”

“Of course.”

The girls shot again. This time Arla aimed at the furthest post and her arrow hit it in the middle but near the bottom. Emer drew her bow, whispering the little prayer that Olaf had taught her,

“Odin, guide my aim.”

She aimed at the same post as Arla, waited for the wind and then loosed the string. She could not help holding her breath as the arrow flew. It hit the wood with a thunk right in the centre of the mark.

“Good,” Atli said, “continue.”

Both girls shot until their quivers were almost empty. Emer won every time except once when her arrow was deflected by a gust of wind. Arla was frankly scowling now and barely spoke to anyone. She loosed her last arrow, another good shot but not quite good enough. Emer stood still, holding her arrow and starting to draw her bow when she noticed a goose flying low over the water. Could she? It was a difficult target but she had hunted geese before and brought them down. The memories and the temptation were too much. She swung around and sent her arrow straight at the flying bird. It struck through the breast and the goose tumbled down into the water. A shout went up and a dog was sent to bring the bird to land.

“A good addition to the cooking pot,” Atli said with a smile.
“Who taught you to shoot?”

“My father.”

“A good teacher and a good pupil. Olaf must be skilled.”

“He is. We often went shooting at home. My mother likes the taste of
grey goose.”

“They are
difficult birds to hunt.”

“
But the shot was foul,” Arla cried. “We were shooting at the posts not birds. You did not hit the post with the last shot. I claim the victory.” She sounded shrill. She stood with her feet apart, hands on her hips, glaring at Emer.

“Then you would be unwise to do so,” Atli replied. He turned to the other girls. “Was there any agreement made to shoot only at the posts?”