Odin´s Wraith Returns

There he stood at Olaf's gate,
wrapped in blue, a one eyed wraith.

As a guest he enters the hall,
and speaks to a king as if he were a thrall.

His words fall upon Olaf's ears like thunder,
and the fear the king feels causes him to wonder.

If this is Odin the All-Father himself,
why doesn't Christ appear as well?

Does he shake in fear as the king now does,
or does Jehovah himself lack the courage to come?

None the less the king retires,
to his chamber and well lit fires.

Trying to convince himself that Odin is dead,
yet shuddering fearfully in his bed.

He shuts his eyes and prays aloud,
in hopes that he will not be found.

To no avail: He feels the wind,
and knows that Odin is now within.

He opens his eyes and gasps with fear
as the one eyed man in blue draws near.

With dire intent the old man smiles,
"Hello Olaf, it's been awhile.

The time has come for me to rest,
perhaps an intermission would be best.

So pray to your Christ to save you this day,
for he is as hollow as the words you say.

I will return to take my place again,
when the world is ready, but not till then.

But those that are true will await my return,
within their hearts my fire still burns."

Odin then turned to walk away,
as the coward beneath the sheets still prayed.

For he knew that Odin was not dead,
and his life would be forfeit instead.

© Gunnolfr Odinsson

 

The snow fell heavy on that winter's night,
Wounded and battered from that morning's fight.
The banging of steel rang loud in his head,
He lay the day unconscious, but not yet dead.

When he rose he saw that the battle was done,
He searched for his brethren, but found not a one.
Snow covered bodies littered the ground,
Only the dead in that field would be found.

His wounds ceased to bleed though the pain was still there,
He started to walk though he knew not to where.
He limped through the snow bearing his pain,
In hopes that his brethren had not all been slain.

Hours had passed, yet he saw no one's fires,
And his will to survive began to expire.
He fell to the snow and looked forward to death
When a whisper roared aloud in his head.

This is not your time, a beautiful voice spoke,
And he saw Odin's daughter appear out of smoke.
She waved her hand and beckoned him to come,
Towards a light that appeared where there had been none.

Again he walked forward toward the light she had shown,
And in just a moment his courage had grown.
His Valkyrie had inspired him to live and move on,
So he focused on the light and walked until dawn.

In the morning he saw that the light was a fire,
And the smoke in the air rose higher and higher.
He wondered if the camp was of friend or of foe,
He knew he'd been seen, so soon he would know.

As he gazed at their standard, the winged death head,
His brother he embraced who had thought he was dead.
He was helped to the camp where he would be safe,
And he spoke of his Valkyrie, his brothers amazed.

They thought of the Vikings of old, Odin's men
And wondered if the blessings were extended to them.
But one of them knew for a fact that they were,
For if not for his Valkyrie he'd be dead for sure.

© Gunnolfr Odinsson

 

The sibbe was gathered, celebrating. They shared drink and food.
Good times and laughter. The joker of the group, you know the crazy
old guy who drinks just a bit too much, was making everyone laugh. He
was retelling stories of the Chieftain when he was young.

"He stepped in a huge pile of auroch dung!! When he yelled his father
reached back and slapped him. In a whisper he said 'Boy you'll get us
all killed! That's fresh, the beast is just around here.'"

He then told the rest of the story. How the man they called
Cheiftain, at age 14, single handedly killed an auroch and became a man.

The chieftain was a kind man. Generous and openhanded. Brave and
Tru. And rich beyond belief. Yule was a good time for the sibbe.
Each year their wealth grew as the surrounding encampments agreed to
pay for protection.. .protection from the sibbe.

Of course fellow tribal families were never asked to pay. No tribe
was the most important thing in the world to the leader of this sib.

"The innengard is the source of our luck! Our power! It is tribe
that will remember us when we are gone, and will ensure we feast with
Baldag in Hel, and Woden in Valhol." he used to say.

The wind whipped outside, and the fire turned to coals. Candles and
torches grew dim and the men and women and children found their way to
their skins for the evening. But not the Chief. He sat awake,
surveying his folk.

He was a leader, a chieftain and a drohtin. A tear ran down the side
of his weather beaten face as he thought of his folk's love for him,
and his love for them.

They had chosen him first among equals. They followed him not because
they had to, but because they loved him and he brought luck to them.
His heart swelled and he remembered what his father had told him when
he was young.

It was just after his auroch hunt, and the retelling of it reminded
him of his fathers words. To the best of his knowledge he was the
only one to ever hear them... to even know his father had spoken them.

"Boy, one day you'll lead these folk. I see it in your eyes. You are
a leader of men. The boys look to you for instruction when you play.
Remember, they never have to follow you. They follow where you lead
only because they trust you. And when they stop trusting, they stop
following. So remember, always put your folk first, because what is
easy for you may not be right for them. And what is right for them is
ALWAYS right for you. Listen to them and lead them. I'm proud of you,
and one day I'll look down from the halls of our fathers and you'll
know I am proud. We'll all be proud."

He was just drifting off the sleep, last in the hall to float away,
when he heard a strange noise. He opened his eyes and thought "could
it be, that sounds like horse hooves?"

Then he heard dogs....dogs? ...DOGS!! !!

"Up!! Up all of you Up!! Men bar the door, Did you leave the wheat
out side!?!?"

His wife didn't answer.

"DID YOU LEAVE THE WHEAT OUTSIDE, WOMAN!!! ANSWER ME!!"

"Y-Yes. It's just out side like you instructed, like every year.
Why? What's wrong?"

"He's coming." The chieftain turned his head, "bar the door, gather
the woman and children in the center of the room. Thule! Thule where
are you?"

"Here Milord. What's wrong"

"The Ash Rider comes with his hunt. Call the wights and the
ancestors. Call on their luck. We shall not be taken up!"

This had happened once when he was young. One of his father's friends
went with the hunt, by his own accord, and never came back. No one
wanted to go this time and so they barred the doors, called on the
luck of the family and the local wights. They gathered in the center
of the room. Children crying and women scared. Man shaking in their
boots.

Not their leader, and his courage gave them courage. He knew there
was nothing to fear. They'd made their offering for the 8-legged
steed, and they were inside. He also knew it would be tense for a few
minutes.

Then it started, the roof began to clatter with horse hooves. The
sound of dogs, but not normal dogs, dogs not of this world, filled
their ears. Yelling, the screams of those who were caught by the
hunt, unwilling to go. To dull to avoid it. Hollow screams. Fearful
screams.

The walls shook with the force of the hunt. Creeks and pops as the
wood was strained to its breaking point and beyond.

And the smell of rotten flash filled the air.

They heard a laugh and an other worldly voice say "They've left food
for you my steed."

Then it all stopped. As quick as it started it was over. The wind
howled but no more hooves... no more ghostly dogs... No more screams.

The sib looked to their leader. What would he do?

He knew what he said next would instill them with fear or make their
chest burst with pride. What would he say?

The mime cup in his hand, he raised it in the air and said "Now we
shall have a story to tell!!"

And the Yule feast began again.

Glad Yule to our friends, brothers and sisters in Hildulf Kindred from
Osprey Bay.

Hail the Southlands!
Uuela!

 

Everte Farnell/Chieftan-Osprey Bay