Historical Setting: 789 C.E. Jutland
The hollowed horns of cow are passed around among those seated at the board filled with a beverage. Shaped, as they are, the horns can’t be set down on the board while filled, so they are guzzled then passed along to the next and all around the table, until they are nearly empty enough to set down without wasting any beer, but then they are filled again.
Here, seated at the board, are the fellows with the sled and the chain I was wrapped in for nearly a night. They seem not even to recognize me now as that man. I was pretty sure all they really cared about was the chain and I did set that free for them. Maybe not knowing how a stranger came to this table now, one of these fellows invites me to sit with them. My new host insists I share in the beverage as the horn is passed. I find that it is a strong beer in that horn, at least at the first passing around the board.
Still new to this language, I have no idea what the conversation is about at this table but as the evening wears on I see it might be about trading slaves.
At the masters’ table the few of the women and, once in a while a man also, will rise and go to the place where the thralls are seated. One or two of the thralls are selected and called out from the group to be “inspected.” The masters seem to be negotiating buys and trades of these captives even within this village.
A few more rounds, and now the keg is brimmed up with well water, so I suppose this feast is drawing to a close.
One woman has taken a piece of Marian’s fine braid of bread over to the thrall line, and she picks out Marian, using no words, only lots of pointing and gestures, assuming Marian doesn’t know the dialect here. It is easy to see she is telling Marian the bread is delicious. Had she spoken to Marian, who does know the language, it might not have caught the attention of the elder smiðr Marian looks after. It seems we all know what this woman is proposing here, and the smiðr of our household, tipsy on beers as he is, goes to the woman with his dagger drawn. Apparently, our smiðr and this woman are willing to bleed over the possession of a child slave.
(Continues tomorrow)
Lazarus Ink 