Emer's Quest (Manannan Trilogy) (9 page)

“You are brave,” he said. “I might not want to wed you, but I admire the way you kept your word. I thought surely you would ask your kin and friends to
take you away with them.”

“Are you sorry I did not?” Emer murmured.

“A little.” Suddenly he grinned and the sullen look he habitually wore vanished. For a moment she saw the bright happy child he had once been and she smiled at him in return, in spite of her inner turmoil.

“Since it is my father’s will that I marry, better someone who is honest and keeps her word
, than a faithless wench who thinks only of herself.” He stood up and Emer stared at him in astonishment.

“I will try to make you a dutiful wife,” she s
pluttered, repeating the conventional words.

“
If my father is happy, I will be well satisfied,” he replied and then he walked away.

Atli had been watching them and
he came over to her at once, taking the place Hari had left.

“I
’m glad you are reaching an accord with my son. Parting from your father and kin was a hard thing to do.”

“The first part of my dream came true
; I hope the second part does too, where my father returns safely to my mother.”

“I would add my
wish to yours, but that is no longer in my hands. Dag seems to be a good man, with friendship for you and your family. I am sure he intends to bring your father home and the weather is fair. They will soon reach the island. But your dream had another part, between your father’s return and your wedding, did it not?”

“
Another part?” She felt startled at the question. “There wasn’t one.”

“Did you think I missed the hesitation in your voice when you were telling
your tale? Or the way you hurried on? What was it that you didn’t tell us?”

“I can
’t say.”

“Can
’t or won’t? You promised to obey me. Now is the time for you to tell me and I am ordering you to speak.”

“Please don’t. My g
randfather said that if I did, I would bring down the wrath of the gods upon myself and those who listened to me. I dare not. I was only shown what would happen, so I could try to prevent it.”

“Does this concern me?” Atli looked at her closely and then drew back. “You need not speak
; I can read the answer in your face. Evil is coming to me. Is it soon?”

“I don’t know. I saw only the thing itself
, not when it would occur.”

“And you w
ill not tell me.”

“I w
ant no harm come to you, if there is any way I can turn fate aside. I cannot tell you, but I will try to make sure that that part of my dream does not come true.”

“Let us leave it at that then, at least until after your wedding.”

9

Drums beat
. Torches burned, throwing patches of light into the darkening sky. People laughed and talked. They stood in a huge circle on the open space in the middle of the village. It was Friday, Frigga's-Day three days after the trading vessel returned. Frigga's-Day was said to be lucky for weddings and Emer hoped that the saying would prove true. If she
had
to be married, she wanted to find a level of peace in her future life, rather than constant strife.

She stood in the doorway of one of the huts, her heart
racing and her breath coming in shallow gasps. Since they landed on
Skuy
, she felt that she had no time to think; no time to do anything but agree with what they did to her. Already she had stood with Hari and his father to exchange dowries before witnesses. She had wondered how this would be accomplished, since she brought nothing to the bonding save her own person and her gift, which of course would not be mentioned. Atli waived this consideration away and even gifted her with the sword she needed for the wedding. Drifa did not look too pleased when he did this, but she obviously had her orders for she made no protest, in public at least.

With
the financial considerations out of the way, the religious ceremony was about to begin. Emer was waiting for Atli to escort her and Rolf waited with her. She had chosen him to bear her sword before her in the procession. None of her male relatives were present, so, as Hari’s brother, it was his right to do so. She thought of it as a peace offering and hoped it would smooth his ruffled feelings. From the look in his eye, she did not think her gesture had succeeded. He kept looking at her speculatively and she found it hard to stop herself from squirming. Perhaps that was why he was doing it, as a punishment for rejecting him. He was certainly making her more and more uncomfortable with every moment that passed. They were not alone. Kolla stood with them and so did Faraldr, a friend of Hari’s to whom he was teaching the skill of reckoning. The silence between Emer and Rolf rang with subtle tensions. Rolf held Emer’s sword in his hand, fiddling with it and twirling it round on its point. This was the sword which would be her wedding gift to her new husband. Rolf was treating it like a child’s toy, of little worth. Several times she had opened her mouth to protest, then thought better of it. The atmosphere had obviously affected the others, for they said nothing either.

Earlier that day, Emer had been
stripped of her old clothing in readiness for the change in her status. She had smiled sadly as she thought of her
kransen
, the gilt circlet that she should have worn on her outspread hair as the token of her virginity. It was lying in her chest at home and she would never wear it now. Perhaps one day she could reclaim it and keep it for
a daughter of her own.

She spent several hours in the
bathhouse, soaking in the wooden tub of water and in the steam room. While she was bathing, some of the older women came to instruct her on the duties of being a good wife. Drifa was formal and spoke mainly of the religious rites to be followed by married women. It seemed as if the words were almost torn from her against her will and she did not stay long. Emer was glad when she hurried off, Halla at her heels.

Kolla made
Emer laugh, telling her about the best ways to live with a man and to deal with his foibles.

“Even Njall will be like that, one day,” she said to Freydis, “much as I love him. All men are grumpy in the end, so make your husband care for you in the beginning and then you need have no fear when age lines your face and twists your limbs.
”

“Don’t worry, I shall,” Freydis replied.

“See you do, or I’ll never hear the last of it,” Njall’s mother said, with a grin. Then she turned back to Emer. “Hari is a different man entirely and you must be subtle when you deal with him. Take the trouble to find out what pleases him. You will have to dig deep because he has learned, since Mabil died, to conceal his thoughts and desires. It will be a hard task for you, but worth it to win his friendship and respect. Once given, Hari will be loyal to you until his death. Atli didn’t handle him correctly after he married Drifa. He did not bother about the boy when Rolf was born and Hari does not forget that either. Keep the peace between them if you can, for all our sakes.”

Emer nodded. It was good advice. She
was sorry when Kolla finished what she had to say and left, although she giggled with Freydis about some of the things she had been told. Old Blin, the wise-woman who was to perform the marriage, came in next and sent Freydis away.

“Why can’t I stay?” Freydis protested. “I’ll be married
to Njall Knutsson some day.”

“When that day ever comes, if it does, we’ll see.”
Blin shook her stick at her. “More fool him if he takes you. Get away quick before I turn you into a toad!”

Freydis grinned
, but she did as she was told and went out of the bathhouse.

“Why couldn’t she stay,
Blin?” Emer asked. “It’s true she’ll marry some day. She’s pretty enough.”

“Pretty, yes, sensible no.
I pity the man who weds her but it’s not her time yet. I sent her away, because I want to give you the magical knowledge a housewife needs to care for her home and her people. You will have to advise and guide your husband in the future. A sensible man listens to his wife and Hari Atlisson is a sensible man. Now, listen.”

Emer
learned several new things, although her mother had taught her well, which was comforting. It was at the end of their conversation that Blin gave Emer a shock. Blin asked,

“
You have your own magic, though, don’t you? Or at least, so I’ve been told.”

Emer
felt unable to find a reply for a moment and muttered something inane. She hoped Blin would not question her too closely and her answers were few and hesitant. She almost cheered when the old woman departed.

T
he final step of the steam-bath was a plunge into cold water to close her pores. As Emer dried herself, she shivered a little from the shock. Freydis rubbed a lotion scented with herbs and flowers into her skin.

“This is supposed to make you randy, so you quicken right away,” Freydis giggled. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Get it off me!”

“
I can’t. Everyone expects to smell it on you today. They’d think something was wrong otherwise. You never know, Hari might even surprise you with his prowess in bed.”

“That
would
surprise me,” Emer murmured.

“He’s young and strong, underneath those robes he wears
, and for all he drags around like one of those monks he admires. You’re comely enough to tickle his fancy, if he lets it happen. Make sure he drinks a lot of spiced ale and you might even have fun tonight.”

Having fun with Hari seemed unbelievable to Emer, but she thought the conversation had gone far enough and she
so gently drew it to an end.

Kolla
had come in to dress her for the ceremony. She wore a fine woollen robe of green and a cloak of red. Her hair was brushed and left outspread over her shoulders, as a sign of her virginity. The wedding and the feast would be the last times when she would ever wear her hair unbound and uncovered. Finnr’s face flashed into her mind. It was for him she should be dressing, not for Hari. Finnr would never see her like this now. Resolutely, she pushed the thought of him and the life she had always known away.

To replace the
 
kransen
 which she had never worn and now never would, Kolla set a bridal-crown upon her head.

“This belonged to
Mabil,
Hari’s mother,” she said. “Her daughters never lived beyond childhood and Hari is her only son. She would want you to wear it at your wedding and keep it for Hari’s daughter.”

“It
’s beautiful.” Emer admired the finely wrought crown of beaten silver, twisted with red and green cords.

“It suits you,
on your golden hair,” Freydis said. Ready at last, Emer had some time to wait.

“Atli said he would come and bring you to the wedding,” Kolla told her, “since your father and none of your kinsmen are here.”

As the moments passed,
Emer became more and more nervous. Rolf arrived, bringing her sword and increasing the tension in the room. He was more than aware of it, for all conversation stopped. Emer found herself trembling and longing for the waiting to be over.

Then
Atli walked through the door. He came over to Emer, looking at her critically and kissing her on the forehead.

“You look lovely,” he said. “Hari is a lucky man. Isn’t he, Rolf?” There was a
hard note in his voice but Rolf merely said,

“Very lucky.”

Atli had a ring in his hand which he gave to Emer. “You know what you have to do?” he asked her.

“Yes,
Kolla and Drifa told me. I shall not fail you.”

“Good. Come now.”

Atli took her hand and, with a deep breath, Emer stepped out of the hut and into the cool evening air. The smoke from the torches caught at her throat and she was suddenly aware of all the eyes looking in her direction. Rolf walked ahead of her, carrying the sword aloft. Atli was at her side, but it should have been Olaf! Emer clutched the ring she carried convulsively, longing for the one man she was certain loved her unconditionally. She had never imagined that she would go to her wedding among strangers, without either her father or her mother being present. Then she straightened her back and looked steadily in front of her as she walked through the crowd. She reached the centre of the circle and saw Hari waiting for her with the old woman, Blin.

Blin b
egan to chant in a high sing-song voice. Emer found it hard to concentrate on the words, although she realised it was a hymn to Thórr and Freyja. Blin was asking the gods to bless the bridal couple and to send them many fine children. Emer could not help glancing at Hari and saw him suddenly grimace.

Blin
stepped aside and gestured Hari to come forward. He did so, holding out his sword. It was dark with age and looked rather battered. Freydis had told her that it had belonged to his great-grandfather. The old man fought many battles with it in his hand. His weapons had been concealed for years, waiting for one of his descendants to dig them up and use them again. Hari had done so yesterday. He would give the sword to Emer and she must keep it safe for her own son. As she had been instructed, Emer took the sword from Hari and gave him the
one Rolf had carried before her to the ceremony.

Then Hari put a ring onto the pommel of his
new sword and offered it to her. Solemnly, she picked it up and put it on. Her fingers shook a little. She placed the ring which Atli had given her, still warm from her hand, onto Hari’s
great-grandfather’s
sword. She held it out to him. As he put it on, she realised that his hands, too, were shaking.

W
earing their rings and with their fingers joined upon the sword-hilts, the couple then spoke their vows. The swords would become a threat to either of them, should they ever break their oaths.

Then
Blin took the sword from Emer. “Now is the time for the
brud-hlaup
 or bride running. You must sprint as fast as you can,” Blin said to Emer, urgency in her voice and pointing in the direction of the longhouse. “Go.
Now
!”

Emer picked up her
long skirts and ran as quickly as she could, but Hari easily outpaced her and reached the doorway before her. For once he had a smile on his face as he blocked her entrance with his sword.

“So you must serve me with
ale tonight, not I you,” he said when she arrived panting.

“My pleasure to do so,” she managed to gasp.

He took her arm and led her into the hall
, making sure that she did not stumble over the threshold, which would have brought them both bad luck. Then he walked to the centre of the longhouse and plunged his sword into the rooftree.

“A good deep cut,
Brodir
,” Rolf said as he came up behind them. “Your marriage will be lucky.”

“I intend to make it so,” Hari said, staring at him for a moment and then turning away.

“Let the feast begin,” Atli said, taking his place at the table with Hari and Emer beside him. “Bring the bridal ale.”

A
bowl-like vessel, with handles on either side in the form of animal heads, was carried up to him by Kolla. He gave it to Emer. She took a deep breath, stood and pr
esented the cup to Hari, reciting the verse she had carefully memorised.

Ale I bring thee, thou oak-of-battle,
With strength blended and brightest honour;
It is mixed with magic and mighty songs,
With goodly spells, wish-speeding runes.

“I dedicate this drink to Thorr,” Hari rose, took the bowl from her hand and made the hammer sign over it. “May Odin bless my wife and I.” He drank and passed the cup back to Emer who said, as she had been taught,