Читать книгу Ermentrude's Knot - Candi J.D. Holme - Страница 7

We packed our supplies on our horses, and rode away from the Gepids, as the sun rose from the eastern plains. We were excited, riding together, all eight of us. We were so eager to leave, that we ate our breakfast of bread and cheese on our horses. We were fortunate to have some dried deer meat, along with supplies of grain for our porridge. We would catch fish from the river, and hunt as needed.

“I am tired today, despite retiring early last night,” I expressed, yawning and stretching my back. “I must tell you what I know of the Venethi people,” I continued, the others half listening with drowsiness themselves.

“I hope they are less needy than the poor Fenni tribe, who live without shelter, or horses. At least, that’s what one of the elders told me last night,” Gerulf claimed.

“What do the Fenni people do when they sleep?” asked Saskia.

“I think they sleep under woven branches, or under piles of leaves,” Gerulf explained to Saskia. Gerulf shook his head briefly, as though he was confused. “I know that I could never live that way.”

“Well, soon you might have to for your safety,” I announced, grinning. I was not looking forward to sleeping as the Fenni would, but I was resigned to sleeping with the worms in the soil, if it meant surviving without comfort of a tent or cave. “We have our tents, at least. We can sleep in them if we think there’s no danger lurking.”

“Good, but how do you know danger isn’t lurking, when wild boars, bears, and countless barbarians threaten us?” Saskia pointed out.

“Two of us will guard the rest, while they sleep, of course,” Anselm noted.

“We men have been away from our families before. We know what to do. Don’t be too concerned for your safety,” Gerulf said confidently. He winked at me with those eyes, and I shivered.

“Are you cold, Ermentrude?”

“Ne, I will be fine once the sun rises above the trees,” I assured him. I was looking forward to snuggling with him in the evening, by the fire, though. I tried to think about how it would be—sleeping in the tents, or out in the forest, under the leaves, with him close by. A warmth crept up my spine, as I imagined Gerulf holding me safely in his arms.

“Ermentrude, what else did your father say about the Venethi?” Gernot, Gerulf’s brother, asked, as I returned from my daydream.

“Um . . . let’s see . . . I remember Att-a telling us how they live on floating islands in the middle of great lakes. They use boats to travel between the surrounding land and their homes. They also have large families and live in houses that rest on wooden posts,” I informed him.

“Are they friendly? Or, do you not know this, because the Gutthiuda have never traded with them?” Gernot asked with concern.

“I wouldn’t worry too much, as my father has been in their villages, and he lived to return to us. Of course, that was a long time ago, and things may have changed. Now, more people encroach on their land, so I’m sure they must be vigilant, as are the Gutthiuda and Gepids. At least, they allowed us to settle near them, without too much argument. I think they know what our people did to the Rugii tribe that lives along the sea coast, when our people first migrated to Gothiscandza. King Berig was our king in ancient times. He led us to this fertile land so we could prosper. We have the right to live on this land, just as they do. The Gutthiuda claimed the land where no one else had settled, so it belongs to us.”

“You know your past, Ermentrude,” Alfons spoke in an agreeable tone. He was the younger brother of Gerulf and Gernot.

Erwin, the older brother of Anselm, decided to speak. “Ermentrude, I like the way you demand respect for your people and yourself. Men do not respect someone who does not command respect. I always insist that people respect us for our determination to defend our land and our people. I like you, Ermentrude. I am happy that Gerulf has your friendship.”

“Thanks, Erwin. I am happy that Saskia has a good friend in Anselm, as well,” I chirped.

Gerulf and Anselm grinned at these exchanges, looking as though they were a little too happy themselves. Their faces flushed a bit, as they shifted their weight on their horses. Were they pleased that their brothers liked Saskia and me?

“We hope that we are able to find women so talented and lovely,” Gernot said, “So, Ermentrude and Saskia . . . when you return home, speak well of us to the young women in your village. Maybe you have a friend, or a sister who wants friendship from some brawny brothers?” Bruno nodded his head in agreement. His face began to redden.

Saskia laughed at this and declared her willingness to help them all find suitable partners. Perhaps they would leap over the bonfire of next year’s summer solstice with their girlfriends. I felt as though my heart would leap, if Gerulf ever asked me to jump over the fire with him. I would ride to the end of Middle Earth with him.

Before long, we realized that the sun was at its highest point in the sky. It was a hot day, and we were getting thirsty. We decided to stop for a meal. We found some shade under a clump of trees, once we passed through a wide gap between two enormous boulders. Our eyes examined the tops of the hills for any sudden motion.

“I am a little wary, whenever I see cliffs and hills above us, now. I feel as though someone is watching, ready to shoot us with their arrows,” I revealed, with a queer feeling in my stomach. I spread my blanket and opened a basket of food.

“Ah! That reminds me. Did anyone discover which tribe the prisoners came from? Did Saskia have to threaten them with her ax?” Anselm asked, laughing and squeezing Saskia’s arm, as he sat down beside her. Saskia elbowed him in the ribs. “Ugh!” Anselm mimicked being in severe pain.

Bruno answered the question with a serious look on his face, “They were a small band of Cotini. I believe they are Celtic. Their arrows were tipped with iron from their mines in the mountains. I have never seen their mines though.” Gerulf asked Bruno if any of the prisoners told the Gepids why they had attacked us. Bruno continued, “They were worried we might be looking to settle near their mines and steal their iron.” He rubbed the top of his hair and ran his fingers through the long, greasy strands, as he stood beside Anselm.

Anselm thought for a minute, “I guess we should be careful, when we ride from now on. There could be enemy scouts around, watching us, thinking we are trouble.”

Saskia added, “Well, if they think they see trouble, they’ll surely have trouble—with us!” She rested her hand on her sword, which lay by her side, as she sat on a blanket, gnawing on some meat. Her back leaned against a tree; her long legs stretched out before her. Anselm’s right hand was settled on her leg. His sword and knife were by his side as well. They made a well-matched couple—hunters at heart.

Gerulf came over to sit beside me. I handed him a strip of dried deer meat, saying, “We will have to search for something to feast upon tonight—at the latest, tomorrow. I hope we find some small scurrying beasts. I want to practice throwing Saskia’s ax again. I may show you what Saskia taught me at camp.”

“I’m sure everyone wants to see your ax-throwing. Just make sure you are to the side of us. We do not intend to become victims,” Gerulf said.

I thumped him on his chest with the back of my hand, saying, “Not unless you are a small beast!” He laughed.

We remounted our horses and hastened to leave this lovely spot . . . a summer storm was brewing to the west. Gloomy, black clouds loomed over the peaks, threatening to rain and perhaps hail on us. We sought shelter under any overhanging rocks that would not wash down upon us, but there wasn’t any such refuge.

Lightning cracked the sky open, as a shell was raggedly split. Punaraz’ thunder spoke, to warn us of some evil event to come. Gerulf took the lead, racing ahead into the lower sloping pasture, dotted with small, craggy trees standing lone guard. Enormous boulders sat as giant game pieces, wedged into the hillocks.

Gerulf shouted over the noise of the grumbling clouds, “Let’s seek refuge under those giant rocks, before Hal-ja (hell) lands on us!”

We were eager to settle our horses near to us and calm them. We were certain of being pelted by hail and sleet from the storm so we flattened ourselves against the shelter of the boulders, with blankets wrapped around us and our heads. The hail from the tumultuous storm collided with the granite rocks; mostly deflecting onto the ground. The green hillocks were quickly covered in white pellets and would prove to be slippery. The storm did not hesitate to give the land, and us, a thorough thrashing. I felt sorry for the horses, which we had covered with skins and blankets. Their legs had to bear most of the punishing weather. We waited for the dark clouds to pass, taking their wrath with them. Had Punaraz battled an enemy; his hammer striking their shields? His voice was thunderous, in the stories I had heard.

At last, the storm passed, a troublesome traveler, eager to menace Middle Earth in its path. It drifted over the land to the east. We shook out our blankets and stomped our leather boots, asserting ourselves as survivors of the punishing storm. Brunhilda nudged me, and I hugged her neck and patted her withers. I felt she was relieved the storm had passed, as well.

“You really love Brunhilda . . . and I believe she loves you, also. There’s nothing such as a horse for friendship, when you have no comfort from another being. I never thought about giving a name to my horse, but since you have one for yours, I should ask you to kindly give mine a name, as well,” Gerulf spoke.

“Really? You never named your horse? What do you say to it when you want to address it?” I asked. I patted his horse and asked, “Would you like the name Gundahar? You look as though you enjoy a good battle. Or, do you prefer the title of Frideger, which makes you seem godly?” Gerulf’s horse lifted its hoof and grazed the pebbles on the ground when it heard the second name. I assumed it preferred the title of Frideger, so I tied my braided rope around its neck and said, “I name you Frideger, the noble horse!”

Gerulf’s eyes winked; he patted my head, and he kissed me on the lips. “Ermentrude, I have never been so entertained by anyone, as I was—watching you name my horse. For that, I thank you. Frideger it is, then! Let’s wish for long and healthy lives—ours and our horses!” I looked up at him, and kissed him back. He gathered me in his arms and kissed me several more times. I held him, standing on my tiptoes to reach his lips. He kissed my neck and ears.

“Hmm, we must continue this later, I’m afraid,” as I noticed everyone else staring at us, already mounted on their horses. Saskia, in particular, was glaring at me. She was, no doubt, thinking that I couldn’t have chosen a more inconsiderate time for romance. They were all ready to ride, and here we were, kissing behind the horses.

“Don’t think we can’t see you both, behind your horses,” Saskia shouted. “Ready?”

“Um, quite ready, I think. We just named Gerulf’s horse. It was cause for . . .” I was cut off by Gerulf,

“ . . . a celebration of thank you kisses!” Gerulf looked at me with enthusiasm. “Let’s ride, my dear Ermentrude; and see what our future holds. He kissed me again, and jumped on his steed. I rode along the side of him, thinking of the days ahead of us.

The evening was upon us, and we had only seen a few rabbits to capture for dinner. Where were the deer? We had some provisions left, some bread and grain for porridge. That would have to suffice. Perhaps tomorrow we would find something larger to eat. There were supposedly wolves, voles, lynx, bears, and a multitude of other animals within the Carpathian Mountains, but on the slopes below, the animals seemed scarce. The climate was pleasant and warm most of the year, even in the winter, so animals were supposedly abundant. Yet, we had difficulty finding them. Did they sense that we were here to hunt them?

We set up the tents after a fire was started. There were three tents and eight of us. We decided that Saskia and I would share one tent, and the men would have to draw sticks to decide who would share the remaining tents. Erwin and Alfons were left with the long sticks; they were to guard our camp and horses as we slept. Saskia and I felt it would be fun to share our secrets at night in our own tent.

The night was clear and cool after the storm. We sat around the fire and spoke about the unusual things we had experienced in the past. When it was my turn, I could only say that I had witnessed the birth of a two-headed goat. Gerulf had seen Romans south of the Carpathians. Each of his brothers had seen mostly mass destruction of villages, and Anselm had been to the sea coast, collecting amber that washed up on the rocky shore. Saskia had seen wolves hunting in packs and bear cubs with their mother. I realized that I had not experienced very much in this world. I thought about what I would see and experience in the future, and on this long journey.

The next morning, I heard snuffling outside our tent. The horses must be eager to eat their oats and ride, I thought. I looked over at Saskia’s spot, but she had left, perhaps to hunt. Why did she leave without waking me? I wanted to use her ax again. I hurried to style my hair in the usual knot, which was much easier to accomplish with the use of the polished bronze mirror. When finished, I tucked the mirror into my bag.

I stepped outside, to look around, but I saw no one. I turned to search in the other direction, when a coarse hand clamped over my mouth, muffling my screams. I was blindfolded, gagged, and carried off to a horse; lifted, and thrown on top as though a sack of grain. My hands and legs were bound. I heard men yelling in the distance, above our camp, followed by other voices. Then, there was silence. Fear swelled in my head and my heart. My stomach writhed as snakes in a pit. Again, I heard muffled sounds of someone in pain. He or she was within a few feet of me.

“Saskia!” I tried to say, but couldn’t, with the gag binding my mouth. I was in trouble, and I knew the others were also in danger. I tried to wriggle, but I was tied to the horse. Sick from not eating much the night before, I didn’t dare vomit, or I’d choke and suffocate. So I waited, impatiently, on the horse. I wondered if it was Brunhilda or Frideger.

I was terrified. Who had captured me? What had happened to Saskia? Where were Gerulf and Anselm? Why hadn’t Erwin and Alfons warned us of intruders? I wanted to scream again. I shivered with perspiration evaporating from my body in the cool morning air. The horse began to move—my body bounced along on its back. Where was I being taken? Were the others being taken as well? Oh, gods! Please save me! Strike these cruel men with your hammer, Punaraz! These heathens must be struck by the gods I call upon to save me. Where are your swords? I called to every god I knew for help, but none saved me.

I heard men speaking in a language that was different from ours. It was not Gutan, my language. They were laughing and speaking loudly to each other. They seemed to be walking, as I heard their footsteps. They most likely weren’t from any of the tribes that I knew. Of course, I was not familiar with many tribes, due to my limited experiences. I decided to scream again, to see what would happen. Perhaps someone would speak to me, and I could hear their words better.

“Huuuuuh!” I screamed in a muffled tone. “Huuuuuuuh!” again, I screamed, until finally, someone spoke to me, saying,

“Quiet! You are loud!”—and smacked me on my bottom hard. I was offended, but I stopped screaming immediately. They continued walking beside me, if I planned to scream again, for I could hear their heavy breathing.

Later in the day, as I was counting, so I could judge the time, I heard two men talking, although I couldn’t understand what they were saying. I also heard another muffled sound coming from somewhere near my horse. I wondered if this was Saskia trying to scream or get attention. All I knew was, I needed to empty my bladder. The motion of the horse was making it more urgent by the minute. I hoped whoever it was, would allow this simple necessity. Hours seemed to go by, before my horse stopped. Rough hands untied me from my horse and released my feet and hands. The blindfold and gag remained.

I was guided into a forest or a group of trees close to a river off in the distance. I could hear water gurgling, which made me want to void my bladder. I lowered my trousers, removing them and stooping down, as if to sit, with my feet spread apart, relieving myself—I hoped, not on my boots. I tried to pull my blindfold down off my eyes, but a hand grabbed mine. I was handed some leaves instead. I hoped they looked the other way. I was a bit modest as a young woman.

I redressed and the person guided me back to the horse saying, “Eat!” . . . handing me some bread. It smelled wonderful and tasted delicious. My stomach settled a bit. I drank some water from a wooden cup that a man touched to my lips, which gave me relief from thirst. I drank more water and ate more bread, until I was satisfied. We were allowed to rest and digest the meal for a while, standing or sitting in the coolness of something that provided respite from the hot sun.

“Move along!” a man said to me, grabbing me by the arm and yanking me into a standing position. They lifted me back onto my horse and bound my hands and feet again; tying me onto the horse. I didn’t struggle this time, as I felt they would be abusive if I tried to get free. I heard someone else being lifted and tied up, as well, only they struggled and growled at being restrained. Whoever was standing near them, thumped them hard. The once struggling person stopped their movement and growling. I hoped it was Saskia. She was a fighter and a biter. If she had been captured and subdued without her weapons, it would have been after much resistance. I rode on my abdomen, on top of a horse, for a long time that day, thinking of such a struggle.

I could feel the cooler air; the day seemed darker through the blindfold. Would we stop for the night? The probing of a man’s rough hands releasing knots that had kept me tied up for hours, answered my question. I was detached from the horse and carried into a structure with warmth. My captor set me down on a wooden bench. I could feel the splintery wood with my hands, still bound behind my back. My feet were released from the rope, so I could stand if needed.

Voices spoke in the corner, “Captured . . . forest,” were the only uttered words I heard. Perhaps they were explaining my capture and where they found me. Maybe they were giving orders to someone for my care. I hoped they would soon release me from my wrist bindings and remove my blindfold and gag. I heard footsteps coming toward me; I felt my heart pounding in my chest. What would they do?

“Who are you? Guci?” the gruff voice asked, as my gag was removed. When I heard the word, Guci, I knew they might be asking me who I was, or where I was from. I spoke for the first time all day.

“I am Gutthiuda; I live with my family on the Wisla River. I want to go there, now!” I demanded, in a voice that showed no sign of weakness.

The voice spoke a little of my language now. “You have—name?”

“Yes, it’s Ermentrude. My father is Ansgar of the Spears. Do you know my father?” I asked.

“Ne! I am friend of Dragan—you know this man?” he said, “I do not care where you from—you are otrok—slave, now. You will stay here and work—help out.” I heard this disturbing news and held my breath, apprehensive of what this meant. My mouth hung open.

“You are gift to Draga! She tell you what to do—where to sleep,” the voice said. I felt weak and almost cried. I had to remind myself that I was strong. It was Draga, who removed the binding rope around my wrist, along with my blindfold once the man was gone. She was kind and spoke to me in a soft voice.

“You are young,” she said, “You married?” Her face was youthful, but much older than mine. Her eyes seemed sad, but wise.

“Ne, I am not married,” I shook my head, “I was told to marry, but I ran away from home with my friend,” I tried to explain, using hand gestures, “Is my friend, Saskia here?”

She nodded, and my heart leaped with excitement! “May I see her? Please, let me talk to her, Draga,” I pleaded.

“Ne, you must go to sleep now,” she told me resting her hand on my shoulder. “Mir (peace),” she added.

“I will sleep for now, but please tell me I may speak to Saskia tomorrow.” I knew she understood what I was saying. She could hear my pleading voice.

“I will see,” she replied. She left the room, and I got into my bed, which was quite comfortable. It was a frame of wood, with straw filled into it, and covered with soft material, not the same as the woolen blankets I used at home. My pillow was a roll of soft fabric. I soon drifted off to sleep, tired from my journey. I dreamed of Saskia and Gerulf riding horses across the meadows, the hillocks, and up into the mountains. I missed them terribly. I wondered where Brunhilda was, too.

In the middle of the night, a man entered my room. He had a lecherous expression on his face. He came closer, and I screamed. Saskia entered my room and comforted me, after the man had left my room.

“I will never forget his face, Saskia. Is he here on the farm? Who is he?” I asked. “We‘ll find out tomorrow. I must have dreamt this. It wasn’t real—right?” Saskia did not answer.