SWANHILDE

CHAPTER TWO: THE SPIDER.

CHAPTER TWO: THE SPIDER.

'This is ... intolerable!' said Swanhilde, shaking her head as Tora tried to comb her blonde locks for her. 'How can the Gods do this to me ... us,' she hastily concluded.

Tora had been crying earlier and this almost started her off again. 'I can't believe it! My wonderful brother ... gone. Oh but I must not be selfish and think of myself when you have suffered so, dear Swanhilde. Two months betrothed to Haakon and now ... Ohhh it is just too much.'

'A fever!' raged Swanhilde. 'First poor Sveyn and now Haakon and I am still unwed! Oh Tora dear, I am seventeen now and an old maid! What will become of me!'

Tora, overwrought as she was, reacted instantly to the older girl's assumption of what could be a lengthy session of weeping. 'Oh please Swanhilde, do not cry, sister! I cannot bear it!'

This caused the blonde beauty to wail some more. 'Sister! That we shall never be now, sweet Tora. Oh why oh why do these tragedies continue to blight my life!'

Tora, though only twelve was a very sensible girl. 'Please Swanhilde, you must not cry and wrinkle your beautiful face. Sverre is father's heir now and he would never let the beloved of his brother ... er brothers, be forsaken.'

Swanhilde looked up, her tears somehow miraculously halting in an instant. 'Oh! I hadn't thought of that. I have neglected your poor dear brother who must surely be suffering immensely.'

'Both my brothers are. Hrolf is ...'

'Hrolf is a sweetheart,' interrupted the ditsy blonde, carried away on a new track of thoughts and anxious not to lose it. 'But now Sverre will be burdened by new responsibilities which will make it harder for him. As the betrothed of his departed brother, I feel it my duty to offer my support. Ah but tell me, is he still ... involved with that dark haired wench, Helgi?'

'Ah no, I believe he called it off.'

'She is from foreign parts I believe!' sniffed Swanhilde. 'Jutland, yes? No matter, if it is ended then Sverre has saved himself much pain and heartache. These Jutes are not our kind of people, very common and no manners.'

'Yes Swanhilde,' agreed Tora meekly, not wishing to upset her.

Swanhilde graced the child with a smile. 'Do be so good as to pass on a message to dear Sverre. Let him know I am always here for him ... if he needs to talk.'

*

Sverre laughed loudly and munched into an apple. 'On my travels abroad I have heard tell of a creature ... an insect called a spider. The female mates with the male and then the male dies. While I think that it is probably the first time anyone has likened the lovely Swanhilde to such an eight legged creature, there is a remarkable similarity here although somehow she manages it while keeping her maidenhood intact!'

Hrolf glowered at his brother. 'Don't be crude, Sverre. Swanhilde is merely showing concern for you as Tora so plainly put it.'

'Concern for me you say? Funnily enough she always shows concern for the eldest when her latest swain dies. I don't see her offering to comfort you!'

Hrolf turned away and said nothing.

'In any case my dearest and only remaining brother, you're welcome to her ...comfort. I want none of it ... I can get that from Helgi or one of another dozen wenches if needs be!'

'Sverre, you are our father's successor now and that entails certain responsibilities and a change in lifestyle.'

Sverre threw away the apple core. 'Actually brother, I spoke long into the night with father, on a subject that came up while Haakon still breathed.'

'What subject?'

'A plan I made last year, one that I don't intend to alter due to changed circumstances.'

'What plan?'

'You know how my appetite to adventure and to see more of the world has been whetted? Well I am done with our little stretch of coast and I want none of it. My friend Oli went off last year to Byzantium, where there is good money and adventure to be had. They are crying out for Norsemen in the Varangian Guard. Father wasn't pleased but he accepted that this is where my destiny lies!'

Hrolf was taken aback. 'But brother, you will be Jarl.'

Sverre grinned. 'No, I won't. You will become heir to these lands and much good may they do you. I leave in two days but not without giving you this advice ... do not be the male spider!'

*

'He is doing what!?' Swanhilde was amazed and asked Tora to repeat what she had said!

'Well it is not death to be sure, but with Sverre gone, poor Hrolf will be without any brothers! I must go to him!'

All of a sudden it was as if a cloud had lifted from Swanhilde's sight. She suddenly realised that brave and noble Hrolf ... oh how handsome he is and what a fool I was to have never seen it! Suddenly Swanhilde knew ... Hrolf had always loved her and now she knew she had always loved him. Their love was pre destined.

*

Hrolf was sickened. How could he ever have felt an attraction to this empty headed, vacuous ... child. Sverre had predicted she would come to him and now he saw her for what she really was. Yes, her beauty was enough to make a more foolish man launch a thousand ships, quest across the world to win her hand by performing derring feats of unheard of bravery. Poets could write a thousand love songs praising her lovely face and body and yet ...

Now he knew her and the tint of love that had clouded his judgment for so long, had lifted, the new heir to Trousbjorg saw Swanhilde in a different light. She had ignored him and courted the attention of his brothers one by one, seeking only to be a rich and powerful lady. She had nothing sensible or interesting to say - there was a vacant look in her eyes and in fact she no longer appeared beautiful to him.

Swanhilde was ugly inside. She was disgusting, despicable, clawing, black hearted and she was a user. She was ugly indeed!

But then Hrolf calmed down. Yes, he was done with her, but to call her those names, even in his head, was unworthy of the man he was. In truth Swanhilde was just a girl, whose over abundance of beauty came at the cost of wit and character. She wasn't stupid, just wilfully ignorant and ready to believe in her own superiority because that was what she had always been told by the words and actions of others who flattered her.

Hrolf took the next steps at that moment, towards his own long fated destiny as a hero that sagas would talk of for a thousand years. His rejection of Swanhilde was merely a footnote at the beginnings of his own glorious destiny.

Swanhilde would be forgotten and leave no legacy. Her devastation over losing the last heir of Trousbjorg would prevent her accepting any lesser suitors over the next few years and by that time it would be too late.