The All Thing at the Law Rock (A Norse Tale)

“It’s nice to have a day off from weaving just to catch up on what’s happening in the community,” said Freyja, spreading her course blanket on the grass. “We should have a good view from here.”

“I agree,” said Hildur.

Baldur, the Gothi, scrambled along the edges of the cataract, reaching the traditional outcropping that was designated as the Law Rock. Waiting patiently until the others arranged themselves, he began to speak.

“Brothers and Sisters, today, as is custom, I will announce the results of the deliberations at the All Thing, where such complaints as such have been submitted have been noted and resolved. As you know, I am doing this all from memory, so let me know if I leave anything out.”

“Rolfe can write, and he finds this a great convenience,” called out Freyja, helpfully. Baldur did not respond or appear to attend to this.

“First of all,” said Baldur. “The blood feud between the Magnussons and the Waage clans continues. Fighting will commence again next Tuesday, at the meadows adjacent to the lava fields. The combat will begin at and sunrise, and will continue until the parties are no longer able to battle, or until nightfall, whichever comes first. Grass seating is first come, first served.”

“Go Mangnussons,” someone called out. “Your ancestors pick their teeth with the bones of your enemies, in this case the Waage.”

“Olaf has requested a curfew of 10 p.m. be enforced, as he has a new baby in the house, and his neighbors are fond of after hours feasting, and loud music, which leaves him unable to work the next day. This is noted, and will be passed into the law of the colony. There will be no feasting and no loud music past the time when the moon rises above Vestrahorn Mount, which is about 10 pm, I guess, give or take. So it shall be noted. Also, Olaf has baby clothes for sale or trade, as his stalwart male offspring fast outgrows his raiment. In relation to this, coming to my mind next, is the issue of Freyja’s divorce.”

“WTF!” shouted Finnur.

“Freyja states that Finnur has adopted female dress, and this shame to his manhood shows that he prefers the company of other male sexual partners.”

“WTF!” should Finnur. “Freyja makes my clothes!”

“Freyja, perhaps you better speak to this,” suggested Baldur, and Freyja stood.

“It is true, I do the weaving and spinning, but it is also true that Finnur has long made his clothing preferences known, and, in deference to his wishes, I have tried to comply, odd as it seemed. However, I continued to wonder at it, and it seems that the two of us are better parted.”

“Is this so, Finnur?” shouted Sveinn, quickly, eagerly waiting upon the reply.

“It is true, these mesh half shirts appeared strange to me, but I did not want to say anything to Freyja, fearing that if I did so, she would cease spinning and weaving altogether. In time, I found the low cut fashion-breathable and commodious-you might say. From spear fishing to the tavern. Still-I did not suppose-”

“You would think he would be shamed to appear next to his best friend Rolfe, who remains yet unmarried, and who is manly and excels in all things, in such feminine clothing,” offered Freyja. “How can he appear as anything but inferior to the feminine eye, in such weird adornments!”

‘Don’t worry, Freyja, Ulfr and I can take you in,” chimed in Hildur.

“What?” said Ulfr.

“This bring to mind the case of Ulfr.”

“Yes, it does,” agreed Ulfr.

“There is a certain Sara, who is inclined to lodge with Ulfr and Hildur when her husband leaves town with his stock, and at various other times as she sees fit. Sometimes, for instance, Sara and her husband quarrel, and Sara seeks lodging with Ulfr and Hildur. Ulfr states that sometimes this goes on as long as a month, that the lady takes the best bedroom, and has diet requirements such as honey and salt that place a strain on the family budget. As he and Hildur take the lady in out of kindness, Ulfr is requesting reimbursement from Sara’s husband, in the amount of ten cakes of salt, and two new beehives.”

“Sara, I had nothing to do with this, and I am so ashamed,” cried out Hildur.

“This request has been deliberated at the All Thing, and the men agree, Ulfr shall receive his reimbursement,” said Baldur.

“The last piece of business was the discussion of the raiding season. We have not formalized the itinerary, but we’re thinking monasteries, we’re thinking loosely guarded forts, and the smaller novelty items, hapless villagers who can be robbed and sold into slavery, abandoned Roman coin hoards but-” here Baldur waved his hand, “That gets technical really quickly. I know some of you have to sacrifice a fatted calf to Odin before the mists rise. I just want you to be thinking about it. Every time we ride into Lindisfarne, and Thor knows we have, each and every one of you, in his own small way, is riding with us. That’s all for now!”

Without further preamble, Baldur slowly and carefully made his way down from the Law Rock.

“Yes, as I always say, a nice day out, a time to think of the community,” burbled Freya, folding up her blanket, thinking of what to make for supper.