Northern Traditions
Holding to the Old Ways and Gods - Odin and Thor
The men of Torvaldsland, on the whole, I knew, while tending to respect
Priest-Kings, did not accord them special reverence. They held to old
gods, and old ways. The religion of the Priest-Kings, institutionalized
and ritualized by the castle of Initiates, had made little headway among
the primitive men to the north. It had, however, taken hold in many towns,
such as Kassau. Initiates often used their influence and their gold, and
pressures on trade and goods, to spread their beliefs and rituals.
Sometimes a Chieftain, converted to their ways, would enforce his own
commitments on his subordinates. Indeed, this was not unusual. Too, often,
a chief's conversion would bring with it, even without force, those of his
people who felt bound to him in loyalty. Sometimes, too, the religion of
the Priest-Kings, under the control of the initiates, utilizing secular
rulers, was propagated by fire and sword. Sometimes those who insisted on
retaining the old ways, or were caught making the sign of the fist, the
hammer, over their ale were subjected to death by torture. One that I had
heard of had been boiled alive in one of the great sunken wood-lined tubs
in which meat was boiled for retainers. The water is heated by placing
rocks, taken from a fire, into the water. When the rock has been in the
water, it is removed with a rake and then reheated. Another had been
roasted alive on a spit over a long fire. It was said that he did not
utter a sound. Another was slain when an adder forced into his mouth tore
its way free through the side of his face.
Marauders of Gor - page 26
But now the Forkbeard was dead.
It was said that he wished, in regret for the wickedness of his life, to
be carried in death to the temple of Priest-Kings in Kassau, that the High
Initiate there might, if it be his mercy, draw on his bones in the sacred
grease the sign of the Priest-Kings.It would thus indicate that he,
Forkbeard, if not in life, had in death acknowledged the error of his
way, and embraced the will and wisdom of the faith of the Priest-Kings.
Such a conversion, even though it be in death, would be a great coup for
the initiates.
I could sense the triumph of the High Initiate on his throne, though his
cold face betrayed little sign of his victory.
Marauders of Gor - page 27
But Ivar Forksbeard had come in death, if not in life, to the temple of
Priest-Kings, betraying the old gods, to have his bones anointed with the
grease of Priest-Kings. No more would he make over his ale, with his
closed fist, the sign of the hammer.
Marauders of Gor - page 38
With a roar of laughter, hurling the shroud from him, to the horror of
the High Initiate, and other initiates, and the congregation, Ivar
Forksbeard, almost seven feet in height, leaped to his feet, in his right
hand clutching a great, curved, single-bladed ax of hardened iron.
"Praise be to Odin!" he cried.
Then he with his ax, with a single swing, splattering blood on the sheets
of gold, cut the head from the body of the High Initiate of Kassau, and
leaped, booted, to the height of the very altar of the temple itself.
Marauders of Gor - page 39
Runes, Priests and the Peace of the Thing
We saw thralls, too, in the crowd, and rune-priests, with long hair, in
white robes, a spiral ring of gold on their left arms, about their waist a
bag of omen chips, pieces of wood soaked in the blood of the sacrificial
bosk, slain to open the thing; these chips are thrown like dice, sometimes
several times, and are then read by the priests; the thing-temple, in
which the ring of the temple is kept, is made of wood; nearby, in a grove,
hung from poles, were the bodies of six bosk, one of them the ceremonial
bosk, six tarsk, and six verr; in past days, it is my understanding, there
might have been hung there, in place of the six verr, six thralls; it had
been decided, however, a generation ago, by one of the rare meetings of
the high council of rune-priests, attended by the high rune-priest of each
district, that thralls should no longer be sacrificed; this was not
defended, however, on grounds of the advance of civilization, or such, but
rather on the grounds that thralls, like urts and tiny, six-toed
tharlarion, were not objects worthy of sacrifice; there had been a famine
and many thralls had been sacrificed; in spite of this the famine had not
abated for more than four growing seasons; this period, too, incidentally,
was noted for the large number of raids to the south, often involving
whole fleets from Torvaldsland; it had been further speculated that the
gods had no need for thralls, or, if they did, they might supply this need
themselves, or make this need known through suitable signs; no signs,
however, luckily for thralls, were forthcoming; this was taken as a
vindication of the judgment of the high council of rune-priests; after the
council, the status of rune-priests had risen in Torvaldsland; this may
also have had something to do with the fact the famine, finally, after
four seasons, abated; the status of the thrall, correspondingly, however,
such as it was, declined; he was now regarded as much in the same category
with the urts that one clubs in the Sa-Tarna sheds, or are pursued by
small pet sleen, kept there for that purpose, or with the tiny, six-toed
rock tharlarion of southern Torvaldsland, favored for their legs and
tails, which are speared by children.
Marauders of Gor - page 152
The issues seemed reasonably clear, though I could catch only snatches
of what was said; they concerned the pleasures of boiling the Forkbeard
and his retinue alive as opposed to the dangerous precedent which might be
set if the peace of the thing was sundered, and the loss of credit which
might accrue to Svein Blue Tooth if he reneged on his pledged oaths, deep
oaths publicly and voluntarily given. There were also considerations to
the effect that the rune-priests would be distressed if the oaths were
broken, and that the gods, too, might not look lightly upon such a
violation of faith, and might, too, more seriously, evidence their
displeasure by such tokens as blights, plagues, hurricanes and famines.
Against these considerations it was argued that not even the gods
themselves could blame Svein Blue Tooth, under these circumstances, for
not honoring a piddling oath, extracted under false pretenses; one bold
fellow even went so far as to insist that, under these special
circumstances, it was a solemn obligation incumbent on the Blue Tooth to
renounce his oath and commit the Forkbeard and his followers, with the
exception of slaves, who would be confiscated, to the oil pots.
Fortunately, in the midst of his eloquence, this fellow sneezed, which
omen at once, decisively, wiped away the weightiness of his point.
Marauders of Gor - page 189
Signals
Across the valley, there were others, men, waiting, too. The signal
would be a shield signal, taking the morning sun, a flash, and then the
attack. Hundreds of war cries would be mingled as men poured down the
slopes. There were men here, too, even from Hunjer, Skjern, Helmutsport
and Scagnar itself, on whose cliffs Thorgard's fortress ruled.
Marauders of Gor - page 239
It held, in sign of truce, over its head, the two parts of a broken
ax.
Marauders of Gor - page 269
Sitting above the Salt and the High Table
The interior hall, not counting rooms leading from it on various
sides, or the balcony which lined it, leading to other rooms, was some
forty feet high, and forty feet in width, some two hundred feet in length.
It, on the western side, was lined with a great, long table. Behind this
table, its back to the western wall, facing the length of the hall, facing
east, was the high seat, or the rightful seat, the seat of the master of
the house. It was wide enough for three or four men to sit together on it,
and, as a great honor, sometimes others were invited to share the high
seat. On each side of this high seat were two pillars, about eight inches
in diameter, and some eight feet high, the high-seat pillars, or
rightful-seat pillars. They marked the seat, or bench, which might be
placed between them as the high seat, or rightful seat. These pillars had
been carved by craftsmen in the time of Svein Blue Tooth"s great
grandfather, and bore the luck signs of his house. On each side of the
high seat were long benches. Opposite, on the other side of the table,
too, were long benches. A seat of honor, incidentally, was that opposite
the high seat, where one might converse with the host. The high seat,
though spoken of as "high," was the same height as the other benches. The
men of Torvaldsland, thus, look across the table at one another, not one
down upon the other. The seat is "high" in the sense of being a seat of
great honor. There was, extending almost the length of the hall, a pit for
a "long fire," over which food was prepared for retainers. On the long
sides of the hall, on the north and south, there were long tables, with
benches. Salt, in its bowls on the tables, divided men into rankings.
Those sitting above the salt were accorded greater prestige than those
sitting below it. If one sat between the salt and the high seat, one sat
"above" the salt; if one sat between the salt and the entrance to the
hall, one sat "below" the salt. At the high-seat table, that at which the
high seat sat, all counted as being "above the salt." Similarly, at the
tables parallel to the high-seat table, smaller tables flanking the long
fire on both sides, the tables nearest the high seat counted as being
above the salt, those farthest away being below the salt. The division
was made approximately at the third of the hall closest to the high seat,
but could shift, depending on the numbers of those in attendance worthy to
be above the salt. The line, so to speak, imaginary to be sure, but
definitely felt as a social reality, dividing those above from those
below the salt, was uniformly "drawn" across the width of the hall. Thus,
it was not the case that one at a long side table, who was above the
salt, would be farther away from the high seat than one at one of the
center tables, who was "below" the salt. In Ivar Forkbeard"s hall,
incidentally, the salt distinctions were not drawn; in his hall, all
being comrades in arms, all were "above the salt." Svein Blue Tooth's
holdings, on the other hand, were quite large and complexly organized. It
would not have seemed proper, at least in the eyes of Svein Blue Tooth
and others, for a high officer to sit at the same table with a fellow
whose main occupation was supervising thralls in the tending of verr.
Salt, incidentally, is obtained by the men of Torvaldsland, most
commonly, from sea water or from the burning of seaweed. It is also,
however, a trade commodity, and is sometimes taken in raids. The red
and yellow salts of the south, some of which I saw on the tables, are not
domestic to Torvaldsland. The arrangements of tables, incidentally,
varies in different halls. I describe those appointments characterizing
the hall of Blue Tooth. It is common, however, for the entrance of the
hall to be oriented toward the morning sun, and for the high seat to
face the entrance. None may enter without being seen from the high seat.
Similarly, none are allowed to sit behind the high seat. In a rude
country, these defensive measures are doubtless a sensible precaution.
Marauders of Gor - pages 186 - 187
Tasting of Salt
"Friend", he had said. "Friend," I had said. We had then tasted salt,
each from the back of the wrist of the other.
Marauders of Gor - page 70
Welcoming of Guests to the Jarl's Hall
"Guests!" shouted a man. "Guests to enter the hall Svein Blue Tooth!"
We looked to where once had stood the mighty portals the hall of Svein
Blue Tooth. "Bid them welcome," said the Blue Tooth, and he himself left
the table, taking a bowl of water and towel to meet the guests at the
portal. "Refresh yourselves," said he to them, "and enter." Two men, with
followers, acknowledged the greeting Svein Blue Tooth; they washed their
hands, and their faces and they came forward. I stood. "We have sought
you," said Samos of Port Kar. "I had feared we might be too late."
Marauders of Gor - page 281.
Drinking Horns
I held up the large drinking horn of the north. "There is no way for this to stand upright," I said to him, puzzled. He threw back his head
again and roared once more with laughter.
"If you cannot drain it," he said, "give it to another!"
I threw back my head and drained the horn."
Marauders of Gor - page 89
"Here Jarl," said Thyri, again handing me the horn. It was filled with
the mead of Torvaldsland, brewed from fermented, honey, thick and sweet."
Marauders of Gor - page 90
Worship and the Sign of the Hammer
Standing on the fragments of of the circle, Ivar Forkbeard cried out,
his ax lifted, and his left hand too, "Praise to Odin!" And then,
throwing his ax to his left shoulder, holding it there by his left hand
he turned and faced the Sardar, and lifted his fist, clenched. It was not
only a sign of defiance to the Priest-Kings, but the fist, the sign of
the hammer. It was the sign of Thor."
Marauders of Gor - page 48
The Forkbeard himself now, from a wooden keg, poured a great tankard of
ale, which must have been the measure of five gallons. Over this he then
closed his fist. It was the sign of the hammer, the sign of Thor...
Marauders of Gor - page 82
The Frenzy of Odin
It seemed strange to me that men, only men, would dare to pit
themselves against Kurii. I did not know then, of course, about the fury.
Svein Blue Tooth had his head down.
I sensed it first in the giant, Rollo. It was not a human noise. It was a
snarl, a growl, like the sound of a larl, awakening from its sleep. The
hair on my neck stood on end. I turned. The giant head was slowly lifting
itself, and turning. Its eyes were closed. I could see blood beginning to
move through the veins of its forehead. Then the eyes opened, and no
longer were they vacant, but deep within them, as though beginning from
far away, there seemed the glint of some terrible light. I saw his fists
close and open. His shoulders were hunched down. He half crouched, as
though waiting, tense, while the thing, the frenzy, the madness, began to
burn within him.
"It is beginning," said Ivar Forkbeard to me.
"I do not understand," I said.
"Be quiet," said he. "It is beginning."
I saw then Svein Blue Tooth, the mighty jarl of Torvaldsland, lift his own
head, but it did not seem, then, to be him. It seemed rather a face I had
not seen before. The eyes did not seem those of the noble Blue Tooth, but
of something else, unaccountable, not understood. I saw him suddenly
thrust his left forearm against the broad blade of his spear. To my
horror I saw him sucking at his own blood.
I saw a man, fighting the frenzy, tear handfuls of his own hair from his
head. But it was coming upon him, and he could not subdue it.
Other men were restless. Some dug at the earth with their boots. Others
looked about themselves, frightened. The eyes of one man began to roll in
his head; his body seemed shaken, trembling; he muttered incoherently.
Another man threw aside his shield and jerked open the shirt at his chest,
looking into the valley. I heard others moan, and then the moans give way
to the sounds of beasts, utterances of incontinent rage. Those who had not
yet been touched stood terrified among their comrades in arms. They stood
among monsters.
"Kurii," I heard someone say.
"Kill Kurii," I heard. "Kill Kurii." "What is it?" I asked Ivar Forkbeard.
I saw a man, with his fingernails, blind himself, and feel no pain. With
his one remaining eye he stared into the valley. I could see foam at the
side of his mouth. His breathing was deep and terrible.
"Look upon Rollo," said the Forkbeard.
The veins in the neck, and on the forehead, of the giant bulged, swollen
with pounding blood. His head was bent to one side. I could not look upon
his eyes. He bit at the rim of his shield, tearing the wood, splintering
it with his teeth.
"It is the frenzy of Odin," said the Forkbeard. "It is the frenzy of Odin."
Man by man, heart by heart, the fury gripped the host of Svein Blue Tooth.
It coursed through the thronged warriors; it seemed a tangible thing,
communicating itself from one to another; it was almost as though one
could see it, but one could not see it, only its effects. I could trace
its passage. It seemed first a ghastly infection, a plague; then it seemed
like a fire, invisible and consuming; then it seemed like the touching of
these men by the hands of gods, but no gods I knew, none to whom a woman
or child might dare pray, but the gods of men, and of the men of
Torvaldsland, the dread, harsh divinities of the cruel north, the gods of
Torvaldsland. And the touch of these gods, like their will, was terrible.
Ivar Forkbeard suddenly threw back his head and, silently, screamed at the sky.
The thing had touched him.
The breathing of the men, their energy, their rage, the fury, was all
about me.
A bowstring was being drawn taut. I heard the grinding of teeth on steel,
the sound of men biting at their own flesh.
I could no longer look on Ivar Forkbeard. He was not the man I had known.
In his stead there stood a beast.
I looked down into the valley. There were the lodges of the Kurri. I
recalled them. Well did I remember their treachery, well did I remember
the massacre, hideous, merciless, in the hall of Svein Blue Tooth.
"Kill Kurii," I heard.
Within me then, irrational, like lava, I felt the beginning of a strange
sensation.
"I must consider the beauty of the Torvaldsberg," I told myself. But I
could not look again at the cold, bleak beauty of the mountain. I could
look only into the valley, where, unsuspecting, lay the enemy.
"It is madness," I told myself. "Madness!" In the lodges below slept Kurii,
who had killed, who had massacred in the night. In my pouch, even now,
there lay the golden armlet, which once had been worn by the woman,
Telima.
Below, unsuspecting, they lay, the enemy, the Kurii. "No," I said. "I must
resist this thing."
I drew forth the golden armlet which had been worn by Telima.
On a bit of fiber I tied it about my neck. I held it. Below lay the enemy.
I closed my eyes. Then I sucked in the air between my teeth
.
Somewhere, far off, on another world, lit by the same star, men hurried to
work.
I fought the feelings which were rearing within me. As well might I have
fought the eruption of the volcano, the shifting of the strata of the
earth.
I heard the growling, the fury, of those about me.
Below us lay the Kurii.
I opened my eyes.
The valley seemed to me red with rage, the sky red, the faces of those
about me. I felt a surge of frenzy building within me. I wanted to tear,
to cut, to strike, to destroy.
It had touched me, and I stood then within its grip, in that red, burning
world of rage.
The bowstring was taut.
There was foam at the mouth of Svein Blue Tooth. His eyes were those of a
madman.
I lifted my ax.
The thousands of the men of Torvaldsland, on either side of the valley,
made ready. One could sense their seething, the unbearable power, the
tenseness.
The signal spear, in the hand of the frenzied Blue Tooth, its scarlet
talmit wrapped at the base of its blade, was lifted. The breathing of
thousands of men, waiting to be unleashed, to plunge to the valley, for
an instant was held. The sun flashed on the shield. The signal spear
thrust to the valley. With one frenzied cry the host, in its fury, from
either side of the valley, plunged downward.
"The men of Torvaldsland," they cried, "are upon you!"
Marauders of Gor - pages 245 - 248
The Bond Circle
He then drew with the handle of his ax a circle, some twenty feet in
diameter, in the dirt floor of the temple. It was a bond-maid circle.
Marauders of Gor - page 44
Go to the bond-maid circle," said Ivar Forkbeard, indicating the circle
he had drawn in the dirt. The women cried out in misery. To enter the
circle, if one is a female, is, by the laws of Torvaldsland, to declare
oneself a bond-maid. A woman, of course, need not enter the circle of her
own free will. She may, for example be thrown within it naked and bound.
Howsoever, she enters the circle, voluntarily or by force, free or
secured, she emerges from it, by the laws of Torvaldsland, as a bond-maid."
Marauders of Gor - pages 44 - 45
Collars of Torvaldsland
About her neck, riveted, was a collar of black iron, with a welded
ring, to which a chain might be attached.
Marauders of Gor - page 85
""Look up at me," said the smith. The slender, blond girl, tears in her
eyes, looked up at him. He opened the hinged collar of black iron, about a
half inch in height. He put it about her throat. It also contained a
welded ring, suitable for the attachment of a chain. "Put your head beside
the anvil," he said. He took her hair and threw it forward, and thrust her
neck against the left side of the anvil. Over the anvil lay the joining
ends of the two pieces of the collar. The inside of the collar was
separated by a quarter of an inch from her neck. I saw the fine hairs on
the back of her neck. On one part of the collar are two, small, flat,
thick rings. On the other is a single such ring. These rings, when the
wings of the collar are joined, are aligned, those on one wing on top and
bottom, that on the other in the center. They fit closely together, one on
top of the other. The holes in each, about three-eighths of an inch in
diameter, too, of course, are perfectly aligned. The smith, with his
thumbs, forcibly, pushed a metal rivet through the three holes. The rivet
fits snuggly. "Do not move your head, Bond-maid," said the smith. Then,
with great blows of the iron hammer, he riveted the iron collar about her
throat. A man then pulled her by the hair from the anvil and threw her to
one side. She lay there weeping, a naked bond-maid, marked and collared."
Marauders of Gor - page 87
There were some one hundred bond-maids for sale in the shed. They all
wore the collars of the north, with the projecting iron ring."
Marauders of Gor - page 158
From my pouch I drew forth a leather Kur collar, with its lock, and
sewn in leather, its large, rounded ring. "What is it?" she asked a
pprehensively, I took it behind her neck, and then, closing it about her
throat, thrust the large, flattish bolt, snapping it, into the lock
breech. The two edges of metal, bordered by the leather, fitted closely
together. the collar is some three inches in height. the girl must keep
her chin up. "It is the collar of a Kur cow," I told her.
Marauders of Gor - page 275
Brand of the North
The brand used by Forkbeard, found rather frequently in the north,
consisted of a half circle, with at its right tip, adjoining it, a
steep, diagonal line. The half circle is about an inch and a quarter in
width, and the diagonal line about an inch and a quarter in height. The
brand is, like many, symbolic. In the north, the bond-maid is sometimes
referred to as a woman whose belly lies beneath the sword.
Marauders of Gor - page 87
