Buku The Hall of Tyr by Octavia Randolph
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The Hall of Tyr by Octavia Randolph

Author:Octavia Randolph [Randolph, Octavia]

Language: eng

Format: epub

Publisher: Pyewacket Press

Published: 2014-06-19T00:00:00+00:00

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The Hall of Tyr by Octavia Randolph

The light of the days dwindled as the cold and snows increased; Yule had come. To herald the shortest day and longest night we held a feast, and Rannveig and Gudfrid, her cook, walked up the hill and stayed the night with us. Gunnvor made us special treats, not only her loved honey cakes, but a pudding as well, made by stirring eggs and milk together over a low fire. When it thickened she added honey and the crumbled flecks of lavender blossoms from Rannveig’s garden, and I thought I had never eaten anything so good as that. Eggs were precious, as our hens gave us few in these dim days, but she had saved what Sparrow had gathered and used them to full account in this pudding. Gunnvor and Gudfrid laughed and chaffed at each other, the two sisters teasing about who was the better cook; Gudfrid claiming it was only Tindr’s honey and Rannveig’s lavender that had made the pudding so good; Gunnvor saucing back that it took a deft hand to preserve eggs until Yule, and an even better one to stir up such a smooth pudding from them.

Sparrow followed them about the hall and tramped with them to the kitchen outbuildings, watching everything they did as she helped, and I thought she might herself have the makings of a cook. Sitting together around our big table laden with smoked deer meat, roasted goose, a barley browis of turnips and carrots, wheaten loaves and butter, honey cakes and the grand milk-pudding we were all gladsome. I felt a deep liking for the ways of my new land, for here in Gotland we ate all at one table, Sidroc and serving woman alike. This made us like unto a family in my eyes, and in my heart as well, and within that heart I gave thanks to Freyja and all the Gods to know such bounty as this.

The Sun died, the Sun was reborn. From here the days would grow steadily longer, tho’ it was hard to see the stretching of them. A few days after Yule I awoke snug and warm in our bed. Drawing breath I could tell how cold the room was, and snuggled in again a while longer. I reached out to touch Sidroc’s shoulder, and then raised myself as I turned towards him. Of a sudden my stomach lurched and my head began to spin. I shut my eyes tight and rolled into a ball at his back. My Moon-flow had been late and now I knew why.

 

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The Hall of Tyr by Octavia Randolph

Author:Octavia Randolph [Randolph, Octavia] , Date: June 6, 2019

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Author:Octavia Randolph [Randolph, Octavia]

Language: eng

Format: epub

Publisher: Pyewacket Press

Published: 2014-06-19T00:00:00+00:00
The light of the days dwindled as the cold and snows increased; Yule had come. To herald the shortest day and longest night we held a feast, and Rannveig and Gudfrid, her cook, walked up the hill and stayed the night with us. Gunnvor made us special treats, not only her loved honey cakes, but a pudding as well, made by stirring eggs and milk together over a low fire. When it thickened she added honey and the crumbled flecks of lavender blossoms from Rannveig’s garden, and I thought I had never eaten anything so good as that. Eggs were precious, as our hens gave us few in these dim days, but she had saved what Sparrow had gathered and used them to full account in this pudding. Gunnvor and Gudfrid laughed and chaffed at each other, the two sisters teasing about who was the better cook; Gudfrid claiming it was only Tindr’s honey and Rannveig’s lavender that had made the pudding so good; Gunnvor saucing back that it took a deft hand to preserve eggs until Yule, and an even better one to stir up such a smooth pudding from them.

Sparrow followed them about the hall and tramped with them to the kitchen outbuildings, watching everything they did as she helped, and I thought she might herself have the makings of a cook. Sitting together around our big table laden with smoked deer meat, roasted goose, a barley browis of turnips and carrots, wheaten loaves and butter, honey cakes and the grand milk-pudding we were all gladsome. I felt a deep liking for the ways of my new land, for here in Gotland we ate all at one table, Sidroc and serving woman alike. This made us like unto a family in my eyes, and in my heart as well, and within that heart I gave thanks to Freyja and all the Gods to know such bounty as this.

The Sun died, the Sun was reborn. From here the days would grow steadily longer, tho’ it was hard to see the stretching of them. A few days after Yule I awoke snug and warm in our bed. Drawing breath I could tell how cold the room was, and snuggled in again a while longer. I reached out to touch Sidroc’s shoulder, and then raised myself as I turned towards him. Of a sudden my stomach lurched and my head began to spin. I shut my eyes tight and rolled into a ball at his back. My Moon-flow had been late and now I knew why.

“What…?” he asked, waking up. He put his hand on my shoulder as if to turn me to him. “Are you laughing, or crying?” he asked, for with my face muffed he could not tell.

I raised my face to him. “Both. And for joy,” I told him. “I have got your babe.”

“Ah,” he cried out, and pulled me close. “The Gods will withhold nothing from us.”

“Já,” I said, and kept my eyes closed a moment, savouring this discovery, the beauty of his answering words, his warmth about me.

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