The Portland daily press., 1878-05-04
[Harper's Bazar.l
ThOrek's Wife.
A LEGEND OF sKJoN CASTLE.

know who Thorek was; for, as one of Odin's
warriors and having lived in the twilight be-
tween myth aud history, his deeds OF valor
and TOO often his very name, have been
merged in the glory of the hero god. The
ruined window in the top story of the great
tower at Ssjon has happily been the means
of preserving living interest in at least a
few episodes OF his eVentful history. The
legend appears written out in saga, but it
will perhaps be acceptable given in more
modern idiom, and somewhat as it is tamil
iarly told by Scandinavian fresides at this
day.
Thorek, it recounts, was intrusted with
vast projects of conquest and depreciation; he
was important too, in all state matters and
could negotiate abroad and conciliate at
home. In short, he was the envy of less able
warriors, and admired with awe by the peo-
pie. Nobody seemed to think that such
successful man must needs be very busy
one, and when Regina and Eymund and the
other chiefs rode by Skjon Castle they never
considered the strategy, keen judgment and
strength of arm bywhch Thorek had wrested
the stronghold from its former owner. A
good many people in those days were mon
grel divinities, and came at success by the
power of luck in respect to having had thun-
der or lightning or the spirits of the deep
somewhere in their family tree; but Thorek.
as will be illustrated by this legend, was only
mortal, and what he accomplished was Away
by thoroughly correct and natural processes.
He had handsome wife -Gerda-and to his
credit be it said, he kept her like lady. She
lived at Skjon and had fresh rushes on her
floors every day, many jewels, slaves and
maidens; she had pearls in her long yellow
braids, and palfreys to ride, and every other
luxury of the locality and period. Gerda was
beauty, and all the chiefs swore it seemed
part of Thorek's good luck to get not only
the greatest fame, the greatest favor from
Odin, the finest and strongest castle in the
country, but the handsomest and gentlest
woman that could exist ont of Valhalla.
Those chiefs didn't know much more about
the true state of Thorek's domestic concerns
than ones friends nowadays know of such
matters. They never suspected that though
Gerda was beautiful, fond, accomplished and
had no scolding tongue, there was hidden at
Skj0n, still, an ugly little skeleton that made
Thorek feel Odin's favor, fame, wealth, life
itself, very unsatisfying, and drove him al
most to desperation at times.
To describe just what this trouble was
would be more difficult than to illustrate its
nature by dalogue-a fair sample of what
awaited him every evening, when, throwing
off with his weighty armor the burden of care
and toll, he sought the peace and comfort of
his wife's society. He would say for instance,
'Gerda, my life, thy warrior is rejoiced to
greet thee" this being the exact diction pc
culiar to all remote ages.
81 welcome thee, Thorek,'' Gerda re-
sponded while he inhaled kiss from her
fower-like face.
Sab! my fair spouse, tits pleasant to reach
our stronghold and be warmed by this noble
blaze of oak wood, and still better by the
glow of thy peerless beauty" Gerda smiled
languidly and sighed with little air of resIg-
nation.
"Art sad, my own?"
.'Sadp'-as one who should say, eye gods,
hear himp'
"My wife should not be sad.''
'Should not! have cares, Thorek."
"But thou shouldst not have cares, nv
Gerda."
IT'S easy to say sshouldst not but there
are the castle feasts to be provided"
"But there are our hunters and the
slaves"
Sand fine feasts would we have did trust
to them! No, no; the roast birds would be
out before ye had half supped, did not look
after everything"
1t must be remembered that the luxury of
those DAYS was not the hot house luxury of
ours. Even King Sigurd, the sages tell us
wore blouse and broad hat, and oversaw his
own farm, while Aasta, his wife, spun among
her girls, and herself directed the feast in
honor of their famous son Olaf. The cares of
noble matron of those times might have
been about as burdensome as those of fair
ly wel-to-do citizens's wife of ours.
"Come, come, my fair Gerda," Thorek
much about household matters. Why not on
the morrow don thy brave dress of scarlet
and gold, mount thy palfrey caparisoned with
the jeweled trappings, and to the hunt or to
our neighbor, the noble Viking's?"
81 do think in my soul that the Vikings
wife is jealous of me-" sail Gerda with an
injured air; and quite oblivious to any cheer.
full sentiment, she went on in the same tone
of mild complaint, rather high in pitch, but
the slaves have scratched the fine chased
golden cups the Viking brought from his
last voyage?"
"They must be more careful"
SAY, SO say to them twenty times day,
and wearying saying it,
"Try not to weary thyself, Gerda. Play
thy golden harp as in those happy days when
wooed thee in thy fathers house"
"Alas, my poor tatherp'
"Whaps the matter with thy father?n
''Naught, naught; but he little DIR cams
that 1 SO soon must lose my cunning on the
harp"
swell, never mind the harp; but why not
read sweet runes to glad thy soul wthal?'
'.Runes there are no hours for runes"
'Why, the evening hours"
''Thou art here and we have guests to co.
tertain."
True; but the afternoon
81 must have that time with my chi!drcn.''
swell, the morning hours, then"
"The morningW exclaimed Gerda, with
mild triumph in her blue eyes: "the morning
must fiud me at the wheel, else the maidens
will grow, idle and neither flax nor wool will
be spun."
"But can't the girls take care OF them
'ImpossibleW'
"Why not let the eldest of thy women, the
old Blavor, take this household changer"
full"
"Well, Isol or Lanfey then-any of the
maidens,"
"The maidens, indeedv' Gerda replied with
some spirit, ''they are the plague of my life as
1t is"-or ancient Scandinavian words to
that effect.
'sBut Gerda, am not a slave to nv armv.
and my men fight well enough. / do not
fret and harass my soul with details of our
exploits and invasions, yet they say Pm
successful warrior,
go to, my lord thou knowest naught of
women's affairs. There is much sorrow and
pain in woman's life, particularly in house.
hold matters. Ye men know nothing of our
trials, and We pity us not"
But, by Odin it seems to me We make the
malt of them for yourself, while we men take
broader views and let these small Matters
Thorek stopped short for his wife was looking
nurt and very sad. He stared in a helpless
iashlon alternately at her aud at the fire,
then Ventured to remark in an off-hand fash.
ion to change the character of their talk:
"What noble blazep'
SAY; yet the wood is not sound, The
woodmen bring only rotten trees of Late"
sit seems good enough"
''Tis not fit to roast venson withal. and
the wheaton cakes are spoiled with smoke"
Then, with the manner of one who has
song to sing through. she went on; "The
last brewing of mead was ruined; 1 hear bad
news from my married sister; my new robe
is not made up in graceful fashion; the guests
we have please me not; aad the rushes for
the floor the slave hath brought in are so
damp that have pains in every Joint, and
fear my health is destroyed forever.'
Glad of some excuse for an outburst Thorek
exclaimed, "By Odinl The slave that
hath done this thing shall not live an hour
Name him.
"Tis naught, tits naught; have more
than that to suffer, and trust suffer meelr-