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Authors: Judson Roberts
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chest and clothes.
"What is it?" I asked, not understanding how she could have anything for me.
"These were Sigrid's. She saved the feast clothes she made you, for Hrorik's funeral feast. And some of Harald's things are here, too. Sigrid kept them. She did not wish any of Toke's men to end up with them. I am certain she would want you to have them."
I took the chest and clothes from Astrid's hands and set them on the bed, beside the pile of silver. I saw her eyes widen when she saw the mound of coins.
The chest was small—less than a third the size of my sea chest—but of much finer quality. The wood was a dark, lustrous walnut, and the hinges and catch—which included a lock, from which a key protruded—were of bronze, cast in an ornate design that included a serpent coiled around each piece. I opened it and began removing its contents, one by one.
As Astrid had said, among them were the feast clothes Sigrid and my mother had made for me by altering some of Harald's clothing, while he and I had labored to build the death ship in which the bodies of Hrorik and my mother would be burned. The white linen tunic, with embroidery around the sleeves and neck, I folded and added to my sea chest. It would make a comfortable under-tunic to wear beneath a wool one. The green wool trousers I added to my sea chest, too. They were in good condition, and looked much finer now than the brown ones—also made for me by Sigrid—I was currently wearing, which over the past months had acquired a number of stains and showed considerable wear.
The short cloak I'd worn at the funeral feast I folded and placed on the bed. It was a garment designed more for appearance than usefulness, and would provide little protection from wind and rain on a sea voyage. The fancy silver brooch I'd worn to secure it at the feast I added to my pile of silver coins and treasure that I intended to leave here. I preferred to fasten my cloak with the much simpler ring brooch I had been using ever since my journey north to the Limfjord with Harald.
The next item my hands pulled from the chest caused me to suck in my breath in surprise when I realized what it was: a small sealskin pouch, containing the scroll whose writings, about the White Christ, my mother had used to teach me Latin. I'd thought it long lost.
"Sigrid kept it, to remember Derdriu by," Astrid said.
It was all I had left now of my mother's, besides the small comb she had given me. I was glad the scroll had not been lost. I was glad Sigrid had kept it.
The rest of the chest's contents had belonged to Harald. There was much less than I would have expected: a small knife, a comb made from walrus ivory, and a pair of short but sturdy leather boots. I tried them on. They were a little large, but if I wrapped my feet with rags or stuffed dried grass in the toes to fill the space, they would do, and would provide far greater protection from winter weather than my own well-worn shoes. I added them to my sea chest.
When I picked up the knife to examine it, Astrid volunteered, "Sigrid gave that to Harald, as a gift." Its blade was short—no longer than my forefinger—and its handle was formed from a piece of deer antler. A dark brown leather scabbard encased the blade and half of the handle. I remembered that Harald had sometimes used this knife to cut his meat with, at meals. It was a handy size. The dagger I wore at my belt—a gift from Harald, given to me on the night he had died—had a long blade that could be unwieldy for delicate work. I added the knife, too, to the contents of my sea chest.
"Is this all?" I asked. I remembered a silver cup Harald had often used. Where was it? For that matter, what of Harald's inheritance, his share of Hrorik's treasure? And what had happened to Sigrid's share? Was their treasure what Toke had dug up the floor of this chamber looking for? Had he found it?
"Sigrid gave most of Harald's things to his closest comrades, after we learned of his death. She kept
"What is it?" I asked, not understanding how she could have anything for me.
"These were Sigrid's. She saved the feast clothes she made you, for Hrorik's funeral feast. And some of Harald's things are here, too. Sigrid kept them. She did not wish any of Toke's men to end up with them. I am certain she would want you to have them."
I took the chest and clothes from Astrid's hands and set them on the bed, beside the pile of silver. I saw her eyes widen when she saw the mound of coins.
The chest was small—less than a third the size of my sea chest—but of much finer quality. The wood was a dark, lustrous walnut, and the hinges and catch—which included a lock, from which a key protruded—were of bronze, cast in an ornate design that included a serpent coiled around each piece. I opened it and began removing its contents, one by one.
As Astrid had said, among them were the feast clothes Sigrid and my mother had made for me by altering some of Harald's clothing, while he and I had labored to build the death ship in which the bodies of Hrorik and my mother would be burned. The white linen tunic, with embroidery around the sleeves and neck, I folded and added to my sea chest. It would make a comfortable under-tunic to wear beneath a wool one. The green wool trousers I added to my sea chest, too. They were in good condition, and looked much finer now than the brown ones—also made for me by Sigrid—I was currently wearing, which over the past months had acquired a number of stains and showed considerable wear.
The short cloak I'd worn at the funeral feast I folded and placed on the bed. It was a garment designed more for appearance than usefulness, and would provide little protection from wind and rain on a sea voyage. The fancy silver brooch I'd worn to secure it at the feast I added to my pile of silver coins and treasure that I intended to leave here. I preferred to fasten my cloak with the much simpler ring brooch I had been using ever since my journey north to the Limfjord with Harald.
The next item my hands pulled from the chest caused me to suck in my breath in surprise when I realized what it was: a small sealskin pouch, containing the scroll whose writings, about the White Christ, my mother had used to teach me Latin. I'd thought it long lost.
"Sigrid kept it, to remember Derdriu by," Astrid said.
It was all I had left now of my mother's, besides the small comb she had given me. I was glad the scroll had not been lost. I was glad Sigrid had kept it.
The rest of the chest's contents had belonged to Harald. There was much less than I would have expected: a small knife, a comb made from walrus ivory, and a pair of short but sturdy leather boots. I tried them on. They were a little large, but if I wrapped my feet with rags or stuffed dried grass in the toes to fill the space, they would do, and would provide far greater protection from winter weather than my own well-worn shoes. I added them to my sea chest.
When I picked up the knife to examine it, Astrid volunteered, "Sigrid gave that to Harald, as a gift." Its blade was short—no longer than my forefinger—and its handle was formed from a piece of deer antler. A dark brown leather scabbard encased the blade and half of the handle. I remembered that Harald had sometimes used this knife to cut his meat with, at meals. It was a handy size. The dagger I wore at my belt—a gift from Harald, given to me on the night he had died—had a long blade that could be unwieldy for delicate work. I added the knife, too, to the contents of my sea chest.
"Is this all?" I asked. I remembered a silver cup Harald had often used. Where was it? For that matter, what of Harald's inheritance, his share of Hrorik's treasure? And what had happened to Sigrid's share? Was their treasure what Toke had dug up the floor of this chamber looking for? Had he found it?
"Sigrid gave most of Harald's things to his closest comrades, after we learned of his death. She kept
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