Word Count: 12,029
Summary of Events:
Friðljót's mother informed her that a special guest was coming to call; alluding to the idea that something significant was going to happen to Friðljót, so she snooped on the guest's arrival and saw that it was Snerrigeírr the king of Gammelhjem's southern neighbour, Uppodlingland, which left Friðljót full of foreboding. Aðalbjörn's father determined to send a warrior to investigate the reports of the merchantmen, but yet felt foreboding that an evil lurked in Gammelhjem, so he and Aðalbjörn went to visit a vitki* so as to allay his concerns. At the banquet held in honour of Snerrigeírr of Uppodlingland, Friðljót felt ill and unsettled and wanted to get away, but she had to wait until the eating was done before she could do so . . .
Excerpt of the Day:
Before she could open her mouth to get her mother’s attention and proclaim her false complaint so as to escape the gathering, her mother rose to her feet and, instead of politely tapping the edge of her goblet with her knife, causing a soft ringing that got people’s attention in a rather civilised fashion, took up the jar of wine in front of her, and threw it to the floor.
“Let everyone be quiet!” she shouted.
Many people looked warily at her, those of Uppodlingland looked somewhat horrified at the fact that wine had willingly been wasted when it was so hard to get.
“I wish to make an announcement on behalf of my husband, Marfrið, lord and king of Gammelhjem,” her mother went on.
All the silent people now looked curious, attentive. She felt the bit of food she’d eaten tossing about in her stomach like the ocean’s waters tossed about in great gales.
“An agreement has been reached between Marfrið of Gammelhjem and Snerrigeírr of Uppodlingland, to forge an alliance, a brotherhood, that will see us help one another, and have the peace between each other which has not been known before this time,” her mother proclaimed. “As the seal of this alliance, Marfrið of Gammelhjem has agreed to grant Snerrigeírr of Uppodlingland the hand of Friðljót, his only daughter, in marriage to his new ally.”
It took an immense amount of effort for Friðljót not to regurgitate her food, scream, or burst into tears — or even do all three simultaneously. This declaration was worse than all her worst nightmares; she had feared merely to be wedded to one of Snerrigeírr’s equally lecherous sons by one of his first four wives, but to think that she was to become his fifth when he was more than old enough to be her father, for he was slightly older than her father, such a horrific thought had never come to her mind.
Now it was fact, and she saw the horror she felt hidden behind the stoic masks of some of her father’s subjects on the main floor of the hall before her. They were no more pleased with the news than she was, although she was sure they were hiding it better, as she felt as if she were as white and cold as snow itself.
“Let the ale be brought!” her mother cried. “And let us rejoice in this alliance.”
With that, her mother sat down and, as she looked toward her mother to make her escape, she found the watery eyes of Snerrigeírr looking at her, while a too-wide, too-happy, too-lecherous smile curled his lips.
She pried her gaze away from him, not wanting to know what he was thinking, lest the bile rising within her get so high that she couldn’t push it back down, and turned her gaze toward her mother.
“Please, may I, may I go?” she asked.
Her mother turned quickly and looked at her sharply. “Go?”
“I ate too much,” she lied.
“You look quite ill,” her mother said condescendingly. “What a wretched time for you to come down with something. Go.”
Pronunciations:
Snerrigeírr: snehrihg'ayr
Uppodlingland: uhpaw'dlinglahnd
Vitki: vihtkee
*vitki (pl. vitkar): wise women (and occasionally men) of Svärtaland who possess supernatural abilities and a lifespan that is on average triple that of normal people.
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