by Asotir
* * *
GUDRUDA’S EARS BURNED, hearing those two up to their tricks: shame filled her breast, and anger. All at once she rose up out of bed and made as if to open the curtains; but then she stopped. Staying there, listening to those sounds, she seemed already older than the day before. Her broad back was bent, and her shoulders low, and her heavy bosom fallen. Nor might even that dying firelight take away from her all the care-lines on her face.
Gudruda sat upon the bedside, and looked down at the floor. She shook her head, she shuddered. There seemed to be no heart left in her.
Then she looked up, over the curtains and walls of the shutbed, to where the red firelight set the roof-beams glowing, and the turf-roots dangled through the birchbark of the roof. Truly it seemed to her than that she was dead and sent under the earth to the fiery Hell for all her sins. With that thought, she might stay there no longer, but stood and put a mantle over her shoulders, and softly went behind the highseat and out through the women’s door.
But that night was all beclouded, with neither moon nor star to light her way: only the faint, dull light of the longfire gleaming murkily out the smoke-hole. It was windy, and all the window-slits were shut.
For a while Gudruda felt her way about the garth; and how small she seemed, and lost, there in the dark night’s hugeness.
Once she went and stood before the gate, as though to go up on the hilltop; but she dared not leave the garth. And in the end she shivered and waxed so cold that she went back in again, back to the shutbed where she would sleep alone.
She lay down again, and drew the covers over her: still, she was not quick to get warm. There she lay unsleeping and staring at the rafters. The fire now had fallen into embers, and there was no sound in the hall save for the love-grunts of her stepdaughter.
It was some time later, and Gudruda rose out of bed and knelt upon the floor. Then she began her prayer, and called on her god and the white Jesus, and begged them for their help: ‘for I have worked so hard, and hoped for so much, but now things go from bad to worse, and I see nought but trouble; but I cannot learn my error or my sin. Teach me then, and let me uncover it. Where, where am I wanting? Only a few months ago, all my prayers seemed answered: now Olaf is dead, and the men still swear by Thor and cast their runes, and will not leave off their devils’ ways, even though they kneel each Sunday and sing the mass. Help me, O Lord God, for You are as great as any King of the south-lands, and all men must do as you shall wish. I am weary now, and lone, and need help and charity. O Lord, I do not doubt you, I only ask that this trial of mine be ended shortly: for the day is coming, when all men will gladly do your bidding. And then all the dead will waken from their graves, and stand into the east, and praise the sun. There will be no trials then, nor labor nor toil, nor death nor sickness, but all will dwell together in peace and cheer, and winter and night and wickedness will be known no more.’
And so Gudruda wiped away her tears and got once more into her bed. Nor was it long afterward that she let close her eyes and slept, and seemed happy.
