Authors: Frans G. Bengtsson
Thus far all had gone well; but gradually the common members of the assembly began to show signs of increasing unrest as time went on without any good fight developing. A combat had, indeed, been ordered on the second day, as the result of a dispute between a Finnveding and a Göing concerning a horse-theft, for no witnesses could be found and both parties were equally obstinate and equally cunning at prevarication; but when they fronted each other on the combat place, they proved so unskillful that they straightway ran their swords through each other’s belly and fell dead to the ground, like two halves of a broken pitcher, so that nobody gained much pleasure from that contest. The tribesmen made wry faces at one another when this happened, thinking that this was proving a very disappointing Thing.
On the third day, however, they were cheered by the appearance of a complicated and difficult case, which promised excellent results.
Two Virds, both known men of good reputation, named Askman and Glum, came forward and told of an instance of double woman-theft. Both of them had lost their daughters, buxom young women in the prime of their beauty, who had been stolen by two Göing otter-hunters in the wild country east of the Great Ox Ford. The identity of the thieves was known; one of them was called Agne of Sleven, son of Kolbjörn Burnt-in-His-House, and the other Slatte, known as Fox Slatte, nephew to Gudmund of Uvaberg, who was one of the twelve Göing representatives. The theft had taken place a year previously; the two young women, it appeared, were still in the clutches of their captors; and Askman and Glum now demanded treble bride-money for each girl, as well as reasonable compensation for the injury caused to the Widow Gudny, Glum’s sister, who had been with the girls when the theft had taken place and had been so affected by the incident that for a good while after it she had been out of her proper mind. This good widow, they explained, they had brought with them to the Thing; she was well known to have an honest tongue, and, since many could testify that she had by now returned to her full senses, she would, they claimed, be the best witness to tell the assembly exactly what had happened.
The Widow Gudny now came forward. She was of powerful and impressive appearance, not yet old enough to frighten men; and she described clearly and earnestly how the incident had taken place. She and the girls had gone into the wild country to gather medicinal herbs and had had to spend the whole day there, because these herbs were rare and difficult to find. They had wandered farther afield than they had intended, and a terrible storm had suddenly broken over them with thunder and hail and pelting rain. Frightened, and drenched to the skin, they had lost their way; and after wandering for some time without coming upon any track or landmark, they had at last arrived at a scraped-out cave in the earth, in which they had taken shelter. Here they began to feel the effect of cold, hunger, and fatigue. There were two men already in the cave, hunters who lived there while trapping otters; and she was relieved to see that they did not look dangerous. The men had given them a friendly welcome, making room for them at their fire and giving them food and hot ale; and there they had remained until the storm ceased, by which time it was night and very dark.
Up to then, she continued, she had only worried about the storm and the ache that she was beginning to feel in her back as the result of being cold in wet clothes. But now she began to fear for the girls, which worried her much more. For the men were now in high spirits and were saying that this was the best thing that could have happened, for it was a long time since they had seen any women; and they were liberal with their ale, which they kept in a keg in their cave, and warmed more of it against the cold, so that the girls began to grow muzzy, being young and inexperienced. She had asked the men, in a pointed manner, to describe to her the way back to their home, and they had told her; but apart from this they had shown no concern for the girls’ safety except by sitting close to them and feeling them to see if they were dry. This went so far that after a while Fox Slatte picked up two small bits of wood and told the girls that they were now to draw lots to decide which man each was to sleep next to. At this she had declared vigorously that the girls must straightway go home, finding their way as well as they might in the dark. For her own part, she was compelled to remain in the cave because of the severe pain in her back.
“I spoke thus,” she said, “because I thought that the men might give way and let the girls go in peace if I undertook to remain with them. I was ready to make this sacrifice for the girls’ sake, since, whatever the men might do to me, it would be less horrible for me than for them. But instead of being accommodating, the men grew angry and addressed me in the most insulting terms and seized hold of me and threw me out of the cave, saying that they would speed me on my way with arrows if I did not instantly depart from the place. I spent the whole night wandering in the forest, in terror of wild beasts and bogies. When I reached home and told what had happened, people went to the cave and found it empty, with no trace of the men or the girls or the otter skins. For a long while after this I was sick and half crazed because of the treatment I had endured at the hands of these foul ruffians.”
Here the Widow Gudny ended her testimony, having spoken her last few sentences in a voice dimmed by weeping. Gudmund of Uvaberg now rose and said that he would present the case of the two young men. He was doubly qualified to do this, he said, partly because he was wiser than they, and so better able to choose his words, and partly because he had on more than one occasion heard the whole story of events, not only from Agne of Sleven and his nephew Slatte, but also from the mouths of the young women themselves. He therefore was as well informed about this matter as anyone, if not better; and as regards the testimony of the Widow Gudny, to which they had just been listening, he would say this, that much of it was according to the facts, but most of it contrary to them.
“Slatte and Agne both say,” he continued, “that they were sitting in their cave during the storm, which was so severe that they were barely able to keep their fire from blowing out, when they heard groans outside. Slatte crept out and saw three figures moving in the rain with their skirts wrapped round their heads. At first he feared them to be trolls; and the women supposed him to be one when they saw his head suddenly appear from the earth, so that they quaked and screamed with terror. Realizing from this that they must be mortals, he approached and calmed them. They accepted his invitation to join him in his cave and seated themselves round the fire. The girls were very fatigued, and were sniveling with distress; but there were no tears coming from the widow, and she showed little evidence of exhaustion. She kept her eyes fixed upon them incessantly as she sat drying herself before the fire; she wanted her back rubbed, and every part of her body warmed with otter skins; then, after she had drunk of their hot ale like a thirsty mare, she became merry and took off most of her clothes. She did this, she explained to them, so that she might feel the heat more, since heat was what she needed most.
“Now, Slatte and Agne are both young,” continued Gudmund, “but not more foolish than the run of men; and they knew well enough what thoughts tend to enter the minds of widows when their glance falls on a man. When, therefore, she suggested that the girls should go into a corner of the cave to sleep, but said that she herself would remain awake to see that no harm came to them, the men’s suspicions were aroused and they exchanged a knowing glance. Both Agne and Slatte have assured me that they would gladly have obliged the widow had she come to them unaccompanied, but that it seemed to them an unmanly and dishonorable thing for the two of them to share a widow when there were two fair young women also present who might well be as eager for pleasure as she was; for had they done so, they would have been laughed at by every right-thinking person to whose ears the story might have come. So they seated themselves beside the young women and spoke calmingly to them and helped them to warm their feet at the fire. By this time the girls were in better spirits, having swallowed food and drink and become warm; they scarcely dared, however, to glance at the men and were shy of speech. This increased the men’s respect for them, for it testified to their modesty and good upbringing; and their liking for them became so strong that eventually they decided to draw lots for them, so that there should be no quarreling over who was to have which, and so that all should be satisfied. But when they suggested this, the widow, who had been growing more and more restless because no attention was being paid to her, jumped to her feet shrieking wildly. She protested that the girls must go home at once or terrible things would happen. They were young, she said, and able to endure the hardships of the night; but for herself she must beg hospitality until morning, since she was too fatigued and racked with backache to undertake the journey. This suggestion astonished the men, who asked her whether it was her intention to kill the girls; for this, they swore, she would certainly do if she drove them out into the wild forest to face the darkness and rain and all the evil things that lurked there. Such cruelty and wickedness they had never before heard the like of, and they would not allow it, for they were determined to protect the girls from her mad caprices. Nor, they told her further, were they so careless of their own safety that they were prepared to allow such a murderous character as she to remain in their cave; for if they did so, they could not be sure what might not happen to them while they were asleep. So they commanded her to go; she looked, they say, as strong as an ox, so that there would be little danger for her in the forest, and if she should encounter a bear or a wolf, the animal would certainly flee at the sight of her. Seizing hold of her, therefore, they ejected her from the cave, throwing her clothes after her. The next morning they thought it best to move on; and the girls, when they heard of this decision, volunteered to accompany them, to help them carry their traps and skins. There are witnesses present here at the Thing who have heard this from the girls’ own mouths. These young women are now married to Agne and Slatte and are well contented, and have already borne their husbands children.
“Now, I do not think,” concluded Gudmund, “that this business can properly be called woman-theft. The fact of the matter is that these men saved these young women’s lives, and that not once but twice; first when they took them into their cave and offered them warmth and shelter, and secondly when they prevented them from being driven out into the forest as the wicked widow would have done with them. The men are therefore willing to pay ordinary bride-money for them, but no more.”
Thus reasoned Gudmund, and his words were greeted with great acclamation by the Göings. The Virds, however, appeared to approve them somewhat less, and Askman and Glum would not relax their demand. Had the two men stolen the widow, they said, they could have had her cheaply; but virgins could not be considered as being in the same category as widows; nor would any wise man place much reliance on the defense that Gudmund had put up for them. They thought it only right that the Widow Gudny should receive compensation for the insults and injuries that had been done to her; they knew her well, and she had never shown herself to be as man-crazy as Gudmund had made her out to be. In this matter of her compensation, however, they would accept whatever sum might be offered, but they were not prepared to haggle over the young women.
Witnesses were then heard for both sides, both those who had heard the story from the young women’s lips, and those who had been addressed on the subject by the Widow Gudny on her return from the cave. Ugge and Sone agreed that this was a difficult case to judge; and the spirits of the assembly rose, for there appeared to be an excellent prospect of a four-handed combat, provided no unlucky chance intervened.
Ugge said that he felt half inclined to allow Sone to judge the case alone, because of his great wisdom and for their ancient friendship’s sake; but he could not persuade his chosen twelve to agree to this, and so Olof Summerbird was co-opted as third judge. This honor, he said, was one that gave him little joy, for much silver and several lives depended on the result of the case, so that whoever judged it would bring upon himself the hatred and abuse of many, however just his decision might be. At first he suggested, as a compromise, that the husbands should pay double bride-money instead of the treble portion that was demanded; but neither the Göings nor the Virds would have any of this. Gudmund said that Slatte was already in strained circumstances, it being impossible for those who lived by trapping otters and beavers to amass a fortune, because of the poor prices that were paid for skins nowadays; while Agne of Sleven had lost his whole inheritance through his father’s having been burned in his house. The most they could afford would be the ordinary bridal portion, and even that they would hardly be able to pay without assistance. The Vird representatives, on the other hand, thought that Glum and Askman were demanding no more than was reasonable.
“For,” they said, “we Virds have, ever since ancient times, held our women in great honor, and our neighbors must not be allowed to suppose that our virgins can be picked up cheap in any forest.”
Several thought that the best solution would be for the four parties concerned to fight it out; they thought that Askman and Glum, despite their disadvantage in age, would emerge with honor from the contest.
The matter was debated this way and that for a good while, but both Sone and Ugge were reluctant to declare that it should be decided by combat.
“Nobody can say,” said Ugge, “that either of the two stolen women has any guilt to bear in this business; and it would be a bad judgment that condemned them to the certain misfortune of having to lose either a husband or a father.”
“If we are to pass unanimous judgment on this case,” said Olof Summerbird, “we must first decide whether woman-theft has been committed or not. I know my opinion, but I should prefer that those who are older should speak before me.”