The Bludding

The Gathering happened only once a decade. We traveled over mountains or along winding fjords, only the elderly and the women with suckling babes left behind. I was a swaddling bairn the last time, so this was my first Gathering, and I had talked about nothing else for weeks.

“Do you think there’ll be a dancing bear?” Soren asked me, busily whittling another Freyja figurine.

“I hope so, Lars told me there was one last time.”

We’d been working hard for months, creating items to trade at the Gathering. Soren’s wooden goddesses were rustic but appealing. I wasn’t as good as Soren, but I still hoped to trade enough of my pendants to buy my first real sword.

The markets at the Gathering were legendary. Fat goats roasted on spits, the smell of roasted meat filling the air. People displaying their wares on rugs and tables – warm furs, brightly dyed tunics, home goods, and luxury items as far as the eye could see. I planned to buy some new mittens for Mother Meg, my grandmother. Her twisted old hands felt the cold worse with every year. But mostly my sights were set on a proper weapon. Everyone knew if you wore a sword you were a man, and I couldn’t wait to feel their newfound respect when I returned to our village.

Finally, the week of the Gathering arrived. I bid my goodbye to Mother Meg on the jetty – she would not be attending, her limbs too stiff for the long journey.

“Rasmus,” she said, holding me at arms-length and staring deep into my eyes. “Never forget, you come from a long line of leaders! Rasmus Mikkelson – grandson of Mikkel the great wolf slayer. You have a proud and strong lineage, my boy, and I want you to remember it. I have great hopes for you, child.” She took her torque and pressed it into my hands, the heavy silver cold against my skin.

I stared at it, the two wolves joined together in a loop, their heads fierce, red carnelians for eyes. “I want you to wear this, Rasmus. No – don’t argue, child! It will bring you courage. You can bring It back to me when you return.”

I hugged her tightly, wishing she could come too.

“Hush, child – don’t let the men see you clinging to my skirts!”

I wiped the tears from my eyes and ran up the plank to join Soren on the deck. It was our first time leaving our valley, and we couldn’t wait to see what lay beyond the distant twists in the fjord.

It took several days to reach the Gathering place. Most people were already there when we arrived, their tents set up and billowing in the breeze. The water was wider here than in our own valley, and more than twenty longboats floated at anchor. I had never seen so many people before! They bustled around stalls, choosing wares, or clustered on the beach where two men were fist fighting, their torsos bare. The one closest to the water had a giant coiled serpent tattooed on his back – Jormungand. I hoped he would win.

Before we could join the throng of people, we had to present ourselves to the Chieftains. The Great Hall stood proudly overlooking the bustling market below. Two trees grew intertwined above the entrance, a pear tree and an apple tree. It is said for as long as they are fruitful, our people will prosper.

Inside was even grander than outside - brightly painted pillars carved with bears and owls. A firepit big enough for 40 men to sit around ran along the center, and at the far end, the Chieftains sat upon a raised platform. Our own leader, Magnus led the way, leaping onto the dais and embracing them warmly.

“Well met, my friends! It has been too long,”

“Indeed, Magnus – your years weigh heavy upon you, my friend! Your beard was red when last we met!” They all laughed, and Magnus shrugged good-humoredly.

“Time comes for us all, Harald. I seem to recall you had more hair yourself at the last Gathering.”

Harald slapped his thigh, throwing his head back with laughter. “’Tis true, ‘tis true. What Odin gifts me in wealth, Loki steals from me in hair. And who are these younglings you present here today?”

Soren and I were shoved forward.

“They are Soren Fairhair, Erik Alund and Rasmus Mikkelson. This is their first Gathering, so I present them for the Bludding.”

Everyone in the room gasped in horror, and Soren looked at me in confusion. I had no idea what was going on either, we had never heard of the Bludding before.

Harald stood up with a groan, striding over to the edge of the platform for a better look at us.

“Well lads, step forward, don’t cower behind your mothers!” Everyone laughed, and I felt myself blushing. I stepped forward first, holding my chin high.

“I’m Rasmus.”

“Are you indeed?” Harald stroked his beard a moment, before grabbing my chin in an iron grip and turning my head one way and the other. I felt like a horse being inspected for trade. “You’re small, shouldn’t you be back home with the other babes?” He asked, to more laughter.

I felt my temper flare. “I’m twelve summers old, and stronger than I look! I can get out of my chair without making a noise, too!”

I could see a look of alarm cross Magnus’s face, but Harald kept staring into my eyes, and I forced myself not to look away.

“I’ll bet you can, lad. Though you’re not too old for a thrashing, so you’d best learn to control that tongue.” He moved on to Soren and Erik, taking his time with them, too.

“This one’s got broad shoulders and a good back, Magnus. A fighter born, I’d say.” Erik grinned, and I longed to give him a pinch. He was big as a tree, alright, but not any smarter than one.

“Do you boys wish to put yourself forward for the Bludding?” Harald asked, returning to his throne. “It is a great honor, but I will not accept your sacrifice lightly. You must return in the morning and tell me your decision.”

We left the Great Barn in a state of terror and confusion.

“What sacrifice? What did he mean?” Erik asked, kicking the rocks as we headed into the busy market.

“Does he plan to kill us, like an offering to the Gods?” I pondered. “I thought we only sacrificed animals and slaves?”

“Whatever it is, I don’t want to die!” Soren muttered. “How come Lars never told us about this? Why have we never heard of the Bludding before?”

“Maybe it is too terrible to speak of. I mean, if you knew about it, would you still have come?” I said, the smell of roasted meat and manure turning my stomach.

My Father saw us, beckoning me over to help set up his wares. I pulled out my own trinkets to sell alongside his, but my heart was no longer in it. When nobody was listening, I tried to question him.

“What is the Bludding, Father? Why have you never spoken of it before?”

He looked scared, his eyes darting from side to side to be sure we weren’t being watched.

“I didn’t want to frighten you, Rasmus. It’s a special ceremony held only at the gatherings, and few are selected. 'Tis a great honor for our family, but it comes with great sadness. Those who choose to undertake the Bludding are sacrificed for the good of their village, to bring hope and strength for the future of their families.”

“Sacrificed? You mean…” I couldn’t force myself to speak the words, my heart raced.

Father nodded. “You would not return home with us, son.”

“But what about Mother Meg?” I was feeling panicked now. Had she been trying to warn me, back when I bade her farewell?

“We will tell her you were chosen, and you were brave. Or, you can choose to return with us, and we will never speak of it again. But it must be your choice, Rasmus. Nobody can force you either way.”

Our stall became busy, people buying bracelets and torques, a few even choosing my crude pendants. I saw a woman reaching for one carved with the rune ‘B’ – Boerc. I picked it up, slipping it into my pouch. The rune meant healing and purification, and was said to calm a troubled mind. I could surely use its strength right now.

Night fell, and though we joined the celebrations in the Great Barn, my heart was not in it. I felt the weight of my decision hanging over me. Soren and Erik were somber, too. It was a relief when everyone began slipping back to their tents; I longed to be alone.

I did not expect to sleep, but the excitement of the day must have worn me out, and I awoke at dawn to a violent shaking. It was Mother, her hair mussed up from sleeping on the hay, her eyes wild.

“Rasmus! Rasmus, wake up!” I sat up and she held me close, pressing my face into her bosom.

“Please Rasmus, I can’t lose you – I love you too much, child! Reject the Bludding, and come home with me, where you belong. Please!”

I felt hot tears fall from my eyes as I clung to her. I wanted so badly to say yes, and forget the horrors that lay ahead of me.

Just then Father stirred, and Mother let go, hurrying to fetch some food for us all.

As the Sun rose over the Great Barn, I found myself looking at it one last time. It seemed impossible to believe that I might not see another day. I felt like this was all a bad dream.

In front of the dais, a stone was placed - stained red with blood. Beside it leaned an axe. Soren and Erik joined me, pushed forward till we were alone inside the growing circle of onlookers.

Magnus stood before us, dressed in a bearskin, the teeth hanging over his face ominously. I could feel Soren shaking beside me. I could barely stand myself.

“Well, lads? You’ve had time to think. Which of you will step up and accept their fate? Who will offer themselves to the Bludding?”

Soren stepped back, rushing to his mother’s side. I looked at Erik in panic – was he going to do it? He looked at his feet, shuffling awkwardly. Finally, he stepped back too.

“What about you, boy? Or are you a coward also?” Harald taunted.

I closed my eyes, gripping the wolf torque. I remembered Mother Meg’s words – the strength of my fore-bears. I couldn’t let them down.

I stepped forward. “Please, give this to Mother Meg,” I said, handing Magnus my runestone. I walked over to the stone slab, kneeling before it and placing my neck on the edge. I tried not to think about the wickedly sharp axe blade. I closed my eyes.

The axe swung down with a hefty thud! I felt blood pouring over me, sticky and warm, with a coppery smell. But no pain…

Suddenly the room erupted into cheers. Magnus grabbed my arm, hoisting me to my feet.

“Well done, boy! You did it!” He slapped me on the back, tossing the limp body of a rooster over his shoulder – the source of all the blood.

“Did what?” I asked, my knees weak.

“You chose to sacrifice yourself for your village!” Harald boomed, a massive grin on his face. “Every strong leader needs to be willing to die for his people. By accepting your fate, you showed great courage. Now you will stay here with me until the next Gathering, and learn how to become a great leader to rule your people.”

I thought of Mother Meg, back home in the village. How she must have known it might be the last time she would see me. I pushed her wolf torque further up my arm – I would never take it off. I knew now what she wanted for me.