Toni Sihvonen (order #92780) 62.142.248.1

Toni Sihvonen (order #92780) 6
cheese-curd pastries in the fire pit, and ask about distant
news and relatives.
The ford’s red-braided daughter wears a simple green
gown with silver hems, fastened by a saucer-shaped
broach at each shoulder and cinched at the waist by a
small belt hidden in its folds. The sister-in-law and niece
come from a treaty marriage and have the strange ways
of Kentish women. They wear Irish linen gowns under
Saxon wool gowns, under blue-dyed shawls, clasped with
cruciform broaches from Gaul. Both thegns and noble
wives glint with jewelry: armbands, bracelets, buckles,
brooches, and gift-rings on many fingers (the more rings,
the more rewards). The women hang silver spoons and
amber beads from their belts, and the Kentish wife hangs
a crystal, to see her cynn’s future.
At the doorway, an old heorthgeneat leans on his spear
watching the men and women. Though crippled, and
always drunk, he is still fast against troublemakers.
The welsh slave girl who tends the fire has a broken nose.
Coel reminds his brother that, in Welsh courts, they allow
love-talking - the women are not safe from flirting
guests, even with husbands nearby! The Kentish daughter
chastely picks away a curd from Cadda’s drooping brown
mustache, and another from his braids.
Coel, Cadda, and the ceorls drink silently, looking
around. It is good to see fine things after a long, cold trip.
By day’s end, ealdormen, thegns, and ceorls fill the hall.
The deer is cleaned, cooked, and served with jelly. Some
ceorls bring fennel and trout to grill, and the lord’s wife
pours mead after each boast, until it is half gone (but better
to serve it all at once than to cheat guests with weak
beer or berry wine.) By midnight, the men cannot pronounce
their praise-words, and many ceorls are snoring.
A song would serve well before bed, but this lord’s scop
was killed last year by a nithing. Cadda pulls a harp from
his shoulder-bag and sings staves he has practiced:
“ Widsuth the Wanderer saw many mead-halls (the
Scylding’s, the Volsung’s, the Roman King’s) but saw
none so fine as this. . . “
After the song, the lord smiles, handing Cadda a silver
ring, and the drunken men struggle to their feet in praise.
Others try to sing, but the lord discretely yawns. Guests
trudge off to the sleeping-benches that ring the walls. Two
ealdormen stay up at chess. then draughts. A clutch of
ceorls roll long, wand-shaped dice.
Tomorrow there may be a hunt or a swimming contest, if
the snow lets up. If not, the warriors will wrestle, bolstered
by boasts, trying to pull each other down by their
belts. Then, another night of drinking by the fire. But
soon the Glory-month approaches, and men already plan
the first raid of spring.
The Raid
Saxons raid by land, like other folk, but they are more
feared for raiding by sea. Their targets are commercial
shipping, harbor and river towns that have stores of
goods and coins, and whatever Roman sites are still
unplundered. The rise of Christian monasteries provides
them with new targets, both rich and defenseless. A boat
can enrich the cynn that shares it, through raiding and
trading.
Sea-raiders hug the coasts by day and beach their boats at
night. If they sail too near to land they may be seen and
met on the beach by soldiers: if they go too far from land
they may lose their bearings, especially if hit by a squall.
With luck, they might meet another boat of raiders or
traders on the same route. They will close alongside the
second boat: with their ceorls rowing, a thegn steering,
and their leader and his heorthwerod crouched in the
forepeak (the fighting platform at the front of the boat),
ready to swarm over the target’s sides.
At their destination, the raiders steal horses near the landing
site and raid deep into enemy territory. If opposed,
they dismount and release the horses. A man is less likely
to flee if he cannot ride, and if they win the battle they
can always find more mounts. The raiders rarely find a
coin hoard, but they can make off with furs, weapons,
small luxuries like mirrors or candleholders, and yearling
livestock or preadolescent slaves. They row quickly on
the way home, and may even risk sailing in the dark, for
fear that their laden boat will be caught by other Saxons
I i ke themselves.
War
The theod is at war. The cyning plans to carve new land
from Britain, so he sends gerefas to each folkmoot to
muster the fyrd, called only for defense or for
invasion. The news spreads from hearth to hearth within
a day: by the next morning, all free men between 15
and 60 have grabbed spear and shield, kissed cynn goodbye,
and reported to their ealdormen, who will lead
them. Soon a great column of ceorls is tramping down
the gravel of a formerly Roman road, heading west with
the sun. It is a river flood that takes chickens, squealing