by Derek, Julia
Loke paused again, looking down into the ground, as if to gather strength.
So we were right then, I thought, relieved. Loke had just feigned having something hidden up his sleeve… I doubted most people would believe his testimony over mine. Just as I was about to close my eyes and thank the gods for being on my side for once, I caught the satisfied smile on his lips as he looked up again. The blood froze in my veins.
“And in case anyone doubts my words,” Loke said, “I will call a witness who will testify that what I have told you is indeed the truth. My witness overheard a conversation between my father and Hilda the evening before he died. Will Erik of the Oddulf family please stand up?”
So cold I was barely able to move, I made myself turn around and look in the direction of where Loke and now everyone else in the Assembly were looking, just to verify that I had not imagined Loke’s words. I had not. The person standing up among the many men was in fact my friend Erik. The round-shouldered, unusually dark-haired Swede looked right at Loke, carefully avoiding any eye contact with my family—and especially with me.
I turned back to Loke, just in time to see him signal to Erik for him to start speaking. Erik cleared his throat and then said, “About fourteen days ago, I was out hunting in the woods close to the Jarlabanke estate. The sun was about to set, so I decided to go home. But first I wanted to pay a visit to my good friends Ragnar and Loke. I headed toward the main entrance of their estate. I was about to pass the two large oaks that grow near their fence when I heard a girl and a man screaming at each other on the other side of the trees. It sounded just like Bjorn Jarlabanke and his daughter Hilda, but how could that be? She was dead and buried. I stopped next to one of the trees and peeked around the thick trunk. To my utmost surprise, I did see both Bjorn and Hilda talking with such anger that they didn’t even notice that I had come by. Naturally, I was as shocked as everyone else to see that Hilda wasn’t dead. I couldn’t understand how come she was alive and standing there, but she was. Before I got a chance to ponder this further, Hilda yelled that she would tell everyone that it was Ragnar who had tried to kill her, not Leif, if her father didn’t pardon Leif so that she could marry him. Bjorn said no, the Jarlabankes could not forgive a man like Leif after what he had done, after the disrespect he had shown their family. It was enough that the Jarlabankes had spared his life. He told Hilda that she had to get over her obsession with Leif Blackhair once and for all. He even begged her to understand that Leif was evil, someone who had taken advantage of her and tried to kill her. But Hilda refused to accept what her father said. It was sometime around then that I forced myself to continue my walk.”
“Is that all, Erik?” the Law Speaker said with an odd look on his face. The auburn-haired Swede nodded, clearing his throat again, much louder this time. “You can sit down then.”
Watching Erik take his seat again, I realized what must have happened.
Loke had sought out Erik and offered him an enormous sum of silver in exchange for a testimony in his favor.
The Oddulf family was struggling, never having quite managed to get back on their feet after having lost several sons in recent Viking expeditions and property in the Valstad Massacre. While other families were struggling as well these days, few people were aware of just how severe the Oddulfs’ plight was and how much it continued to bother them. In fact, the Oddulf family had been looking for some deal that would help lift their respected family name back to its old heights. The only reason I knew this was because I had overheard Erik and his father fight about it one day, in nearly the same way Erik had just claimed to have overheard Hilda and her father fight. Approaching Erik was a clever and utterly devious move on Loke’s part, especially since the Oddulf family and its members had a reputation of being extremely honest. I couldn’t help but wonder, though, how Loke had found out about the severity of the Oddulfs’ plight, and how much silver he had been forced to part with. It must have been a considerable amount. Even so, I was surprised—and saddened—that Erik had gone for it.
The Law Speaker rapped his gavel and asked the judges whether they were ready to withdraw for their decision. They were, so they stood up and disappeared behind the partition. No one knew for sure how long they would be gone, just that it was almost certainly not going to be a short time.
My eyes found Hilda, who sat beside me. She looked as devastated as I was feeling. We both knew that it was all but over for us now, and that there was nothing we could do about it. She turned to me and pressed out a smile.
“Well, we did what we could,” she said. “Now we can only hope for the best. Hope that the judges believe us rather than Loke and… and Erik.” She practically spat out his name and shook her head. “What a weakling!”
I just nodded, having lost my will to speak. The stuffiness inside the crowded Assembly suddenly felt suffocating. I needed to leave the building for a while. Maybe getting some fresh air would take the edge off the despair about to overtake me completely. I looked at Hilda and asked her whether she wanted to go with me outside until the judges returned with their verdict.
“No, I’d rather stay here,” she said. “I couldn’t bear it if I ran into any of my brothers out there.”
I nodded, not blaming her. I could only imagine how horrible I would have felt had my own brothers done what hers were doing to her. So I went myself.
It was surprisingly cool outside, considering how warm the sunshine was that glared into my eyes the moment I left the Assembly building. I took a couple of much-needed breaths and walked along the road that led down to the port of Valstad. Approaching the water, misery had sucked me in so deep I barely noticed any of the people that passed by me. I reached the long wooden landing stage onto which little rowing boats and ships were attached, and I took a seat on a wooden stump that anchored an impressive vessel.
It felt good to sit there, to have my eyes rest on the immense glittering sheet of blue that stretched out before me, but it was impossible to let go of all the tension building inside me. Unless a miracle happened, it was over for my family—at least in a bigger sense. If we were truly unlucky, the Jarlabankes would be awarded complete victory. That meant I would become a forest man again and quite possibly be chased, just like the last time. If that were to happen, I doubted I would have the energy to outrun them. However, something told me that this was not what would happen. It was not just a hunch, but I had drawn this conclusion from the mood inside the Assembly: People hadn’t appeared as disgusted by me this time around. Many of the men were aware that my father was so sick he might die, and that this was a result from having worked too hard. This would surely serve as a mitigating circumstance in the final verdict. Unless Loke had something else planned, that is.
Goosebumps formed on my arms. He might very well have more up his sleeve. I had completely forgotten about that possibility. Suddenly, I was sure that this was the case. Loke had something else planned, something that would make his family invincible. After all, he had killed his own father to avoid having to part with any of the Jarlabankes’ properties. Could he have paid off the judges, too? It was enough if only some of them went for it, which they probably would, considering that most of them had been good friends with his father. Surely, they must prefer to believe, after Loke’s brief but forceful denial, that Bjorn’s death had in fact only been an unfortunate accident. Together with those who already believed that I was this terrible man Loke had tried to paint me as, he would have enough judges on his side. Yes, Erik was surely just the beginning.
Powerlessness overwhelmed me at this realization. I stood up and my foot found a pebble on the wooden bridge. I kicked it violently. It flew high up into the air, forming a long arch, and then headed toward the water where it kissed the still surface three times, only to disappear the fourth time. I couldn’t just go back in there and wait for Loke to destroy me and my family. I had to do something.
But how would I do that? The trial would be over in a matter of moments.
&nb
sp; Someone announced loudly that the judges were about to come out with a decision. I turned around, feeling old and tired, and started to walk back to the Assembly.
When I was halfway there, two boys fighting each other with wooden swords on a strip of brown grass caught my attention. One boy must have defeated the other, for he stood up and yelled, “I knew this was the only way I could win over you!”
I stopped and stared at the boy. What if I challenged both Loke and Ragnar with a Holmganga? Yes, I nodded to myself. Yes. It could work... The excitement rose within me. Actually, knowing the people, they would prefer solving the trial this way. I grinned wide. With some cooperation from the Law Speaker, the trial would be ours.
34
It was with renewed confidence that I walked through the Assembly building’s large, splayed open doors. I could feel that big grin still stretching my lips wide. When I sat down between Hilda and Egin, I could tell they must be wondering if I had gone mad already. How could I be so happy when we were well about to lose everything? But I didn’t bother telling them what was on my mind; instead, I just took Hilda’s hand, squeezed it, and gave her a peck on the cheek. Then I looked at the Law Speaker, who was already sitting behind his table on the podium, looking every bit as old as people believed him to be, while waiting for the judges to return.
The Law Speaker, or Karl the Wit as his name was, was said to be the oldest in Valstad. It was the tradition of the districts to elect one of their eldest for the treasured and crucial post as Law Speaker, and preferably a son of the incumbent Law Speaker. Karl had merely been a distant nephew, but as someone murdered the previous Speaker, the Valstad Assembly had to rapidly find a good replacement. According to common knowledge, the murdered cousin’s cousin, Karl, had been the best one at the time and he more than filled the two other prerequisites: great wisdom and excellent memory. The Law Speaker had to not only fairly and correctly interpret the expansive Ostgota Law Code—a collection of laws and ordinances that was revamped and added to nearly every year—but also to memorize it exactly. Karl the Wit had demonstrated time and again that he deserved his place. As a young fellow, smaller than most and born with his left forearm missing, he had been forced to develop a sharp and cunning intellect to settle his disputes. He always settled these in public because he knew the one winning the people’s approval would be the one getting his way. Already winning most of his quarrels, he became unbeatable when he discovered that he had a talent for logic and the absurd in the world. This talent combined with his brainpower gave him a unique weapon. No one could come up with such funny and clever retorts as Karl, much to his audience’s delight. Whatever his opponent said, Karl would make it sound somehow ridiculous. Seeing him in action, most spectators ended up rolling around on the ground, laughing so hard they couldn’t stop for hours. How could they not award him the victory? A rich merchant-warrior eventually heard of Karl and offered him a position as his personal scald and entertainer. And so Karl’s cleverness was publicly endorsed.
Most people were happy with Karl the Wit as the Law Speaker, even though he had long since stopped trying to make people laugh. Dour or not, he had gained a reputation for being exceedingly fair, never fearing to go against the will of the judges on behalf of the will of the people. And that was what mattered most. He rapped his gavel a few times to make the murmur inside the hall settle down.
“The judges have reached a verdict and will now return to give it to us,” he said, looking toward the scarlet silk partition behind which the judges still sat. They filed out one after the other in an even row and took a seat on their long bench, their faces blank.
The Chief Judge stood up and turned so that he faced the people. But he didn’t say anything.
The Law Speaker looked at him. “Did you reach a verdict, Judge?”
The tall, bald judge nodded slowly. “Yes, sir Law Speaker, I think we might have—when I finally make up my mind. I’m the last to cast a vote.” He paused, pursing his mouth in thought. “And now I know what it will be: it will be in favor of the Blackhairs. That means we have five votes for the Blackhairs and five for the Jarlabankes. I suggest that each party employs the help of oath-helpers. That will make it easier for us to come up with a more unanimous decision.”
“Thank you, Chief Judge,” the Law Speaker said, and the man took a seat.
Stunned, I stared at the Chief Judge. The verdict was far better than what I could have hoped for, setting the stage perfectly for what I had planned.
The Law Speaker glanced out over the crowds of people and said, “Like the judge suggested, both parties will have to bring in oath-helpers, so that we can come up with a final verdict. We will have to set a new date for the day when you bring in your oath-helpers. Would any of the parties care to suggest an appropriate date?”
The old Law Speaker looked first at the Jarlabankes and then at us, the Blackhairs. I let Loke speak first because I needed a couple of moments to gain control of the excitement that bubbled within me.
I was sure now that the people would prefer my solution rather than the one the Chief Judge had suggested. The people hated it when feuds were settled with the help of oath-helpers. If the Law Speaker did indeed overhear Ragnar as he lost his temper and ran up to tell me, right below the podium, that I had still lost Thora despite not getting sentenced to die a blood eagle, he would surely help me convince the judges as well.
What I had in mind didn’t exactly follow the current writings of the Ostgota People’s Assembly Law Code. It was based on a simple Tva-tur—Two-time—a kind of wrestling created in a time when an unprecedented amount of twins were born in the province. The oldest of each pair of brothers wrestled each other first in a Tva-tur. The winner would fight the other, younger brother without having rested after the first match. If he won again, he would fight a third time, meeting the initial brother, who was now rested, once more. Were he to beat the initial brother a second time, the men who had betted on him would win a Store Thor—Big Thor—which meant that the losing men would have to pay three times the original amount betted. A Lille Thor—Little Thor—paid two times the betted money. To reach a Lille Thor, the second brother entering the game had to win three matches in a row. First, he had to meet the winning brother from the first fight—fairly easy, as the winner was often tired—then he had to meet the second brother, who had yet to wrestle. If he beat him, too, he had to fight brother number one once more. Did he win this one as well, he would have won a Lille Thor.
Somewhere in the periphery of my hearing, I picked up on Loke saying that he would like to bring his oath-helpers in one week. The Law Speaker turned to me and asked if I agreed with the day Loke had suggested. I got to my feet, feeling everyone’s eyes on me now. I scanned the big hall and the many men. Just as I had done during my pleading, I made sure to establish eye contact with as many of them as possible before I spoke. I only had one chance, so I better get it right. “If I may, sir Law Speaker,” I began. “Before I give my day, I would like to suggest another solution to this dispute. A solution that I hope everyone in here will find more satisfactory.”
People were whispering amongst themselves.
“I would like to settle my differences with the Jarlabanke clan through a Holmganga. I propose that I meet Loke and Ragnar Jarlabanke in a Tva-tur. I will only win if I win the fight against both brothers. If I lose any of the two fights, I will become a forest man again, and my family’s farm will go back to becoming a tenant farm under the Jarlabankes.” I paused, letting my words gain traction. The entire hall held its breath, waiting for more. “But if I win both, my family will get ownership over the entire Jarlabanke estate.” I was about to end my statement there, but then something else hit me. “One more thing. If I am killed, I think it is only fair to request that my family will get the ownership of their own farm.”
Complete silence ensued as I sat back down. One of the judges, the one who sat farthest away from me on the long bench, rose then. He looked like an aging hen, hi
s round, fur-covered body hunched up and angry. I recognized him immediately as a friend of the Jarlabanke clan, maybe someone who Loke had tried to bribe to become an even better friend.
The hen man looked at his fellow judges, at the Law Speaker, and then back at the judges before he said, “Well, Leif Blackhair’s suggestion sounds like a good solution. The only problem is that Holmgangas are no longer legal. I think we have to take that into consideration. We have to maintain respect for our laws, don’t you agree, honored judges?”
Some of the judges nodded with wary conviction, while others turned to talk to the one next to them; yet others looked at a loss.
For a moment that felt like an eternity, the Assembly filled with such stifling silence, like the charged moment before a thunderstorm, that I could hear the beating of my own heart loud and clear. It beat faster and faster, louder and louder. As I turned my head to look at the Law Speaker, I wondered if others could hear it, too. There was a pensive expression in the old man’s wrinkled face, and his eyes were fixed at a point far beyond me. Suddenly, he turned his head and looked straight at me. The tiniest smile appeared on his lips, so tiny it was barely there, yet I could feel its power plowing through the room. So he must have heard then, I thought.
I returned his smile with small one of my own, though with the relief and happiness that expanded within me, it was nearly impossible not to laugh out loud. The Law Speaker stood up from his chair and looked out over the crowds.
“I think what Leif Blackhair has suggested is the best solution to this dispute,” he said. “We are after all men. A man who can show Leif’s fearlessness deserves a chance to settle his dispute in this way. Our province needs fearless men—real men—for without them we are nothing. I recommend that the People’s Assembly let Leif have his Holmganga even though it is no longer legal. Those who feel that we need a community of brave men, please rise!”
