Lindorm Princess

Chapter 2

The field was never hard to find. It swam on the flat plains in a shimmering sea of gold, a sharp contrast to the azure summer skies. In the distance, I could see Far and his two farm hands, Søren and Troels. Each held a sickle, and was commencing the back-breaking work of stooping, cutting, and leaving the resulting grain in windrows to dry. I secretly thanked the lord that Far considered this work too harsh for me. Families poorer than ours had no choice, and their women had to work in the fields until their backs were stooped and hunched.

Luckily, Far only expected me to help with the threshing and winnowing. Both could be done in the barn, out of the sun. I would dance on the sacks of wheat to thresh them, removing the grains from the hay.  It was hard work, but fun work, and I liked to sing as I did it, to keep a nice rhythm. Then, in front of the open barn door, I would sift the grains from one washbasin to the other, until all the chaff flew away, and we were left with smooth pearls of wheat. Wheat that would become seed or animal feed, and wheat that would become bread for our winters. Troels and Søren were paid with a bag each, and then we would sell the excess at market.

Troels was in his late twenties, quiet, and from a small farm a few kilometers away. He already had a wife and babe to feed, and was keen to help for extra coin every harvest. He reminded me of a field mouse. Small, sweet, and with a cozy burrow to return to.

Søren on the other hand, was the same age that I was. Twenty-one. This far away, he seemed rather harmless, especially since you couldn't smell the fermented, gelatinous fish smell on him from here. By all accounts, Søren was far more handsome than I was, and I knew that I should consider his attentions flattering. He was straw-haired, and neatly clean shaven every day. When he smiled, a dimple appeared in his left cheek, and all his teeth were still in his head.

The problem was, Søren had a cruel streak. I had seen him behead a mole in the field with his spade, and kick Grey Mis when he thought no one was looking. His attempts to woo me were pinches that left red marks in sensitive spots, and an ill-begotten cart ride that had left me with a bite mark on my neck from an overzealous kiss. I knew though, that if I became his wife, I'd become just like Mor. Except Søren's cruelty was not marked by a temper. He always seemed clearheaded and calm, and seemed to derive pleasure from hurting others.

"Like a boy pulling the pigtails of a girl in class," Mor said dismissively. "He just likes you, that's all." And that was that. I knew that there was no chance of her understanding my concerns. My only hope was to rebuff him enough, to keep him from proposing. If he proposed, Mor and Far would pressure me until I accepted. Who else would have me?

As I walked down the mud encrusted lane, the sun shone heavily on my head. I was beginning to sweat again. I resisted the urge to strip down to my stays, like I did when I helped Far with the threshing. As soon as I had dropped off Far's lunch, I planned to immediately head to the forest. 

The floors of the forest were always cool, with tendrils of mist peeking through the few sunbeams lucky enough to penetrate the pine cover. 

To be able to experience the forest, unchaperoned, was one of the reasons why berry-picking was secretly my favorite time of the year. My white linen apron was always stained purple from my hands that deftly plucked, agilely avoiding thorns. The best part was eating surreptitiously as I worked, and I always returned home with the roof of my mouth caked in sticky, sweet summer.

Meanwhile, in the midday heatwave, Far and Søren both had already undressed to their linen undershirts. Troels worked without a shirt on his back. His skin was blistering and cracked, but he seemed used to it. Men never had to adhere to the same standards women did. Even when I helped in harvest season, I always had to keep my bonnet on, even as my head began to stream rivulets of sweat. In the evening, when I took my hair down, it would be damp from perspire and grease. Only a cold bath and lye soap would remove the stench.