Runes on Parchment

Changing Times ~ A Short Story

I looked back across the pathway that seemed my only route of escape. An open, sodden field. It was not going to be easy to be unseen traversing it. Drawing a deep breath, I ran like the wind was carrying me. My feet were gliding across green moss and grasses leading to the field and as the earth changed from soft green grasses to muddy earth and then to a bed of leaves and although I felt a sense of relief, I could not stop. My hand gripped my leather belt-bag holding the parchment. I tried to recall what the Priestess had said to me just before she gave it to me. Why had she sacrificed her life for this? Father always said to look for the signs. Was I imagining this to be one because I missed him so deeply that my heart still ached for him. The crinkled parchment in my hand was all I had within my power to change destiny. It was all I had that could lead me down the right path. Over and over, I read the runes on parchment, trying to memorise them. I studied the sigil etched with fading charcoal bind onto the brittle goatskin vellum. I needed to memorise it. I dare not open it where anyone could see it, nor could I show it to anyone as they would fear the work of their new ‘devil ghost’ they feared so much. To get caught with it, knowing they feared our language because they thought it to be an evil hex, was not worth even trying to explain as they had shown us quickly, they were ignorant people.

I kept wondering. Why did Sjelesseer, the Priestess, give the parchment to me? The look in Sjelesseer’s eyes when she slipped the fragment of parchment into my hand as the bishop drew his dagger and pierced her chest in front of so many people was still haunting my mind’s eye. The detailed runic imprints so delicate now and open to nature’s desire to take it back.

“Gyldi, you will know what to do” – Sjelesseer’s final words echoing through my mind. 

I struggled to understand why these priests thought it would please their one god to kill women for no crime. They had slaughtered too many good souls, men, women, children, and babies, who if they had skin stains or two different eye colours or used chants and plants to heal these so-called godly men would kill with no guilt, no remorse and far too much pleasure.

After it happened, in a split moment I knew I had to find a place to hide and ran faster than I ever had. My feet felt as if they were floating above the jagged and sharp rocks and ice, the freezing cold-water ways, and through the grasses, my worn leather boots were no match for the elements.

The fighting around the Priestess began so quickly after the bishop stabbed her seemed to cause the village to erupt into chaos, and I knew it would be a serious matter. I knew that these newcomers would use the runic script, the secrets held within it, to punish our kinsmen who refused to take the new faith of ‘one god and one king’. My head spinning, pure fear instinctively told me to hide fast. Hiding would give me time to study the parchment inscription.

The piece of goatskin vellum was worn, incredibly old and falling into pieces every time I touched it. It would not last. I had to try to memorise it. I had only gone to the market to deliver bread for mother. People arguing near the newly built, peculiar shaped out-building they called a place of worship, a ‘church’, had taken my attention from the parcels of bread I had carried over steep, rocky cliffs to deliver to mother at the markets. The route I took daily felt strangely unfamiliar.

I knew the etchings on parchment had to be important and it was not a coincidence that this fragile message was secretly given to me. Fate to us was undeniable and while we didn’t have complete control over fate, we could choose to live a life and live it with honour, to take fate by the hand, and make it work for a worthier destiny for our people. We were not helpless victims at the hands of fate as every choice, every action, every moment we lived determined how fate would play out and what our destiny would be.

My mind returned to the bigger question, why she, the great Priestess, seer, and wand carrier had slipped it into my hand as the dark hooded bishop stuck her with a dagger and took her life. What did it all mean? I had not stopped running since it happened. I had run to the thick ash grove, and I needed to keep the parchment safe. I could sense it was of significant importance for our Priestess to be killed for.

I now followed a small animal pathway and found an earthen mound and circle of shrubs to hide amongst to look at the runes on parchment. I carefully opened the mirky brown, damp parchment. Over and over, I read it, I interpreted it, and I tried to memorise each part knowing by now people would be searching for me. Fewer and fewer people at the market could be trusted in these changing times. Fate was teaching us a harsh lesson. 

Many of the newcomers were travelers, some were slaves who had bought their freedom by impressing a newly converted Christian jarl killing a “heathen,” one of my kindred. They did not even try to blend in with our ways and our trade agreements gave them far more than our own people gained. The eye could not see that our cherished ancient culture was disappearing. The new ‘one god, one king’ idea frightened me more than anything ever had. There seemed to be no way I could remember all of what I was looking at on the parchment. This message is too important for me to get anything wrong. I had to find a safer place to rest and try to understand it all.

With our Priestess now gone, I did not know who I could truly trust. She was who led us when we needed certainty and now, she was gone. Tears fell. I could see her in the grove the last time all the women gathered there. Tall and adorned in a gold woven cape. The crown of white raven feathers and jewels adorned her head. At the break of dawn, a beam of sun shone on her in the center of the circle. Women softly singing and chanting and in what seemed a split moment in time she chose her next student. She turned to me and beckoned me into the center of the circle. I also could feel the scornful glare coming from sister Leva who had always sought power and control, but I would not disrespect the Priestess in reacting to my sister’s jealousy.

It was only last autumn when the ‘choosing time ritual’ took place, and I was yet to live with her and travel alongside her in the spring to come. As if speaking to me now, I could hear her guide me to gather my thoughts and focus on what is now. I saw a thick row of trees across a large sodden paddock. Could I try to run there it unseen? I did not feel that I had a choice.

A mundane life, with an arranged marriage had never felt like my destiny. Some of the women made it a happy and worthy life and thrived bringing up their families. They appeared to love it. I admired the work they did day and night. The games they would play while preparing a paddock for seeding, or helping the sheep birth their lambs. The songs they had sung around the weaving hut tables all seemed to suit them. Yet, in my heart I knew I had a different life than one of raising children, tending the farm, making market items, not to mention clothing and feeding the entire household. Those women who travelled to trade and the women who fought alongside men when needed, I admired them greatly. I thought I would be far more suited to those ways of shaping my future. Especially now that the King’s men had started taking tribute and much of what we made, giving us nothing in return. I would not become another one of his followers.

I had vowed it on my father Alvar’s death bed. As he drew his final breaths, I whispered my plans to travel far away in his ear.  

“Papa, the dreams I have told you I have, I vow I will follow them. I will get a strong boat and it will carry me far away from here as I know you want me to.” –He smiled and then passed onto the afterlife.

His last smile to me meant that I was right to feel as I did. My father had given his entire life to the ugly new king, and for what? Battle scars, hunger, and illness that left him unable to live a full life. I knew why he chose to die. Why he gave in. The hope I held onto was that one day we would meet again in Freyja’s meadow. Before he stopped speaking, he asked me one thing

“Gyldi-Lumi my daughter, promise me that you will not fall victim to the ways of this king and do all that you can to find your freedom.” – I promised him that I would.

“Yes Papa, I will fight if I need to and be wise like you in deals that I make but mostly Papa, I promise you to be all you dreamed I could be and never lose our old faith. I will remind the old and teach the young.” –

I remembered his words every time I thought of him.

“My beautiful Gyldi – you radiate night and day. Never let them steal that away. Look for the sign’s child. I will be with you always.” –His final advice to me one day returning from his last fishing trip. I knew that day he would not live for long, and I wished I had some way to help him stay, yet I knew he had lived a full and valued life, and the new ways were bringing much doom and gloom to his soul.

My mother, Wendela, was always preoccupied with her mountain of duties and her devotion to my two married older sisters and their children. I felt like an outsider and one sister, Leva, always liked to remind me of my place in the family. Last, I was designated last. The last to get whatever was left whether clothing, food, duties, or my mother’s energy and attention. My father saw this, he noticed and compensated for it which showed me he understood what it was like for me. His attempts to compensate led me to know how to wield a sword and fight for my life. I could trap game like a man, hunt, and ride my horse, Gyldglifer, on a whisp of wind, and importantly how to be unseen in a crowd of people. I recalled more of his advice given to me over the years –

“You do not need false attention like an arrogant rooster, your sister fulfils that role well. Little one you have a greater destiny, and I shall prepare you as much as I can. It is your choice as I am asking much of a young woman to diverge from that path expected for you. It is a lonely road my child.”

Not looking back, it was now safe to slow and catch my breath. I chose a large birch tree trunk to lean against as I sat to rest and think. In my mind I could see the dark face of the hooded man, the new bishop who had come to our village making promises of glory and riches if we took the vow of ‘one god – one king’. None of it made sense. I cupped my face in my hands to steady their shaking. My face was saturated with sweat and tears. Tears that now saturated my heart. In my mind’s eye I saw my father’s face smiling at me, nodding. The Priestess, Sjelesseer, had followed me that morning. I could recall her ways were like those of the far northern peoples as if guiding life magically, appearing suddenly as if sorcery had kept her invisible when she needed it. Her hair was smooth and shining. A sheathed blade half exposed under her cape. Her hand grasping her staff that bore resemblance to a spear apart from the adornments near her hand. She had spoken and gestured to me, and said –

“Papa’s ships, look into the messages golden one of pure heart, run, run to the river’s edge, find all he hid and decide for yourself.”

She had gestured towards the river that led to the sea. ‘Golden-One’ she had called me, yet only my father had ever called me that. She must have known him. I knew he hoped one day she would come to stay at our farm as she travelled the country. He had grand feasts for such a small homestead. He proudly shared food, drink, a warm hearth, and places for all to sleep. I wondered about the “ships” she had spoken of. The ships up the river? And what riddle was this about things he had hidden that I had to decide on? There seemed so much to take in all at one time. Like a storm hitting our boat at sea, I knew I had to survive and look for safe passage through the storm. I had to harness these emotions like a wild stallion and ride them to guide my energy.

By now mother might have noticed my absence at cleaning time at the markets. Although she may be beastly careless if my sisters were with her. One less mouth to feed Leva would say. Maja our elder sister would try to scold her, and she did all she could to curb Leva’s hatred and open cruelty to me, but I knew she did not want to be on the receiving end so only intercepted in private, and quietly. 

Maja now had her own family to care for, so I did not expect her to defend me my entire life. I was used to it and knew my ways of dealing with Leva’s vulgarity and jealous grudges to bear. My mind was jumping from thought to thought and not the things I should have been giving my thoughts to.

Suddenly I understood something the Sjelesseer had said to me, and I knew she meant the river’s edge, where Papa’s boats were moored. She had said he had hidden something there she and he wanted me to find. I had to reach there – I had to understand the runes and symbols on the parchment I kept now safely clasped in my hand. I carefully opened the fragment of fragile parchment and saw a line of runes and a sigil. I could read what they said – “look for rainbows” – and I also knew from the rune poems spoken and sung that each letter could also mean something, so I had to think fast and take in the sigil to understand it too. Then it dawned on me the sigil was a map of sorts!

The layout felt familiar and the lines in it I knew were to guide and protect me. That was the reassurance I needed, and it felt as if the insight was coming to me from the spirits, through the earth and even the tree I was leaning on. This energy was new yet felt familiar. I knew what I had to do, yet I did not yet know why. I trusted father and Sjelesseer more than anyone. I drew a deep breath and quietly shifted to look around and gain my bearings on which way to go.

Following the line of birch trees seemed the safest route. I could follow it and reach the river and wharf where I had seen father often working in his hut night and day. I saw no other people and now that it was dusk knew that most people would be inside by their warm hearths now. I felt safer now. I got to my feel and again felt as if they were gliding over the earth. I began to see the wharf. Through the shadows I made my way, cloaked by my warm hood, to my father’s hut. No one was there. 

In the distance I could hear the din of voices from the main hall and laughter and cheers. I was relieved they had settled in for the night. Now standing in my father’s hut I could see over the water of the fjord and past the mouth that led out to the open sea. The jagged, crystalline cliff faces such a dauting and powerful presence. My mind was wondering what did I need to look for in the hut or around the wharf? What would father have kept a secret? And where would he hide something worth keeping secret? 

“Remember Golden Child, keep your secrets hidden in plain sight” – I remembered my father telling me often.

My eyes moved around the barrels, the fishing nets, the wood he saved to repair his boat. “Wait!”, I thought – there seemed a lot of wood stored to repair a small boat he used to travel to trade and even his smaller fishing boat! I began to shift quietly and carefully prepared planks to see if there was a clue there. A murmuring of voices grew louder. Torch flames flickering increasingly growing brighter. I stood still and quietly. 

“I am telling you Thorfin she will be lurking here somewhere and if she finds it before we I do I swear I will send her off to be with her precious father!” –

I gasped and covered my mouth – Leva and her husband Thorfin? How do they know? I slipped as far back into the shadows of darkness of the hut and crouched into a small ball behind the wood pile. The light grew brighter. 

“I am going to find you dear little sister!” Leva sang out in a nasty taunting way. –

“I tell you she will have gone to the forest Leva, and we are wasting our time here. There is nowhere to hide it or herself here. It is too open. We should go now!” – Thorfin said in a frustrated tone. 

I heard Leva heave a sigh as she often did like a spoiled child.

“Yes, she would be too cowardly to see people now. I want to what the priestess gave her, and I want that Priestess title! She has no claim to it. The little fool doesn’t even know she was born to that Finn woman father visited often. How mother puts up with the little troll I will never understand. Yes, move Thorfin go – go you fool of a man!”

I wanted to scream and cry and slap her mouth for such ugly words and lies. Although I didn’t want to believe her words my heart told me there was truth in them. My heart was aching. Mother is not my mother? The Finn woman?

“Father, I need you”, I whispered as I heard their footsteps grow distant. 

I hugged my arms around my knees where I sat in silent screams, anger, and shock. Never had I felt the energy I felt now. My body became fueled by emotions and as I got to my feet, I caught a glimpse of a shiny metal object under the wood. Quietly and carefully, I moved just enough wood to see it was the clasp of a small chest that I had never seen. Although the night was dark my eyes had adjusted enough to see there were fine carvings all over the box. 

I took the small chest into my hands and lifted the latch. I did not need light to see there were fine silver bands, rings, coins and amber in it. That was a small fortune for a family like ours. A flint stone lay on top with a small pouch that was a message. “Never be without fire ‘Golden Child”, father would often say. I gathered a small pile of wood shaving and sticks, enough to light a tiny fire to see the parchment properly. Now I could see and study it and the small chest of treasures balanced carefully in my lap. Among the amber, the beads, silver rings and what looked to be foreign coins I saw a familiar wood carving of a wolf’s head. I carefully cradled it closer to the firelight and it dawned on me what it was. It was Ulf’s token! “But why would Papa have outlaw Ulf’s token among such treasures?” I wondered.

I had never seen a bad side to Ulf, but the law was the law and after the judgement of Outlawry following Leva’s claims, to the 12-man Althing, that Ulf had taken her hostage and had his way with her. I held a deep feeling of sadness when he was sent to live in the forest as his punishment, and to have no further contact with anyone from our village or any village in our realm seemed cruel. One time I followed Papa sneaking away and saw him meeting Ulf near the caves at the foot of the majestic mountain range. They hugged, warmly greeting each other, and then exchanged bags. Papa’s bag was much bigger, and it had food and supplies in it, while Ulf’s was so small Papa had fit it in his waist pouch. Could it have been the carved wolf’s head I was now holding? Knowing Papa had himself broken the law in visiting Ulf and could himself face Outlawry if anyone found out, I kept what I had seen silent and secret, yet I wanted desperately to know why Papa had gone there as he was not a man to break our laws. If anyone needed his advice on law-matters he always helped and defended them with his witty words, or his strong manner. A part of me knew father didn’t believe Ulf was guilty of Leva’s accusation and I did not believe her either, which I made noticeably clear to her.

A chill ran through my body. The wind seemed to whisper to me. I closed my eyes to listen as I had watched Sjelesseer the Priestess do so often. – “Find Ulf – Find the way – Find the truth.” – My eyes sprang open partly in fright yet excitedly that I had ‘heard’ the words so clearly. I knew what I had to do. I had to find Ulf.

My father had taken him in when he was nine winters old and alone. We were told his family had sent him from Lapland as his parents had been told by the gods to do so. He was an immense help to Papa and mother on the farm, in the boats and anything he did, he did well. He was bigger than the other boys his age in our village and always ridiculed by others for being different. He always was on the fringe of life here. I had thought his fringe dwelling was one of the reasons Leva’s claims were believed so quickly and why Ulf was being given such a harsh punishment. It made me sad for him as he was always kind, thoughtful and caring to me. If I fell, he would gently help up, and if I were upset, he would always make the time to listen to my pitiful sibling rivalry tales of woe. He helped Papa teach me axe, knife, and dagger skills and not once in our training had he hurt me.

I was now shifting through the shadows of the town to work my way to the birch forest and to the foot of the mountain where I knew I could find Ulf. I realised the carved wolf head was a sign that I could trust Ulf. I had the chest and its contents firmly locked in my grip. I knew I was on the right path and as I thought that it dawned on me that the route I had taken so and was no on uncannily resembled the shape of the sigil on the parchment now safely in my belt pouch.

“Am I imagining things now” I wondered. I growled at myself, a little annoyed at my overactive mind. I should have been more focused but as I chastised myself, I saw a dark shadowy figure glide towards me in an otherworldly way. I gasped as it came closer. “Sjelesseer?” –

“You must listen Gyldi Lumi, listen to it all…” and she tapped the side of her now black raven feather adorned crown, and vanished. I rubbed my eyes. I knew I was tired but not tired enough to have imagined what I just saw. “Alright, I hear, and I see you, please guide me Sjelesseer”, I whispered, and as I finished her name the wind rustled the loose turf and shrubs and with power that I never imagined I suddenly knew exactly where I needed to be.

I took the shortest and safest route and was there. The caves as the base of Mount Galdhøpiggen. Unsure of how to safely approach Ulf I used a whistle call he had taught me on our hunts. I heard his whistle reply and he was close. “Ulf!” I dropped the small chest of treasures I had carried from the boat hut and ran into his strong arms. Tears flowing again, my body shivering I felt as if I was finally safe,

“I know… I know Gyldi – he is with Freyja now…” he gently whispered –

“But how do you know Ulf, and now being so close when I …”  he interrupted –

“I have been watching it all as your father asked and I gladly gave him my oath. Now we have no time to get distracted. Have this drink and sit by the fire and rest while get Gyldglifer ready.” –

“Gyldglifer, my horse, but how…?” –

“Please Gyldi-Lumi, trust me, this was your father’s plan. I swear to you on my life…” – “But Sjelesseer is…” –

“I know, I saw” he said with a sadness in his voice –

“How?” – He firmly cut me off this time, “Gyldi it will al become clear soon, but I must get ready, and you must drink – we have a long journey ahead.” –

I knew I could trust him, and only had him to trust in life now, so I quietly sipped the leather flask.

Before I knew it, we were riding Gyldglifer together back to town and on yet another path. Again, the sigil came to my mind and again the route was the same as the symbol on the parchment. I knew in my soul it was fated. Getting closer to the wharf we slowed a little but kept a steady pace. We could see torch flames alight around the main hall, but no other people seemed to be out now. I saw the mast of Papa’s biggest boat and knew that was where we were heading. At the wharf Papa’s boat was tied to there were several other smaller boats and two other larger ones for longer journeys. It looked as if the larger of his boats had been set to sail already, which I was confused but relieved to see.

We dismounted Gyldglifer and my heart sank to think I had to say goodbye to my dear companion of so many years, but instead Ulf led her steadily along the wharf and onto the boat, tying her up onboard. I joined them. As I was storing the chest in the main boat’s trunk, I heard voices coming towards us and one I could distinguish was Leva’s. A group of people was headed towards us yelling, with Leva in the lead. Fear took hold of my body and I saw Ulf leap off the boat and back onto the wharf with a fire torch. With one foot he kicked a barrel of oil over and its contents flowed out towards to crowd of people coming towards us and then he dropped his torch flame into the oil and fire took hold like a raging wall of flames it took hold of the wharf leading to us preventing anyone from coming closer. Ulf pushed the boat away from the wharf and leapt back on it. He hoisted the sail, and I could see Leva and the mean on the other side of the flames in a disorganised flurry of panic and pushing on the wharf with several people falling into the water. Was I truly safe now? But what now?

Ulf set the rudder stick on a direct path for the fjord mouth that led to the open ocean. Gyldglifer was calmly standing as if nothing unusual had happened and as if she knew where we were going. I took my lead from her. I turned to face Ulf as I stroked Gyldglifer, “Ulf?” was all I could manage to say. He wrapped a bearskin cloak around me and again his strong reassuring arms told me that somehow everything was going to be okay. Even though I knew that now I would be banished from the village and my family I seemed not to care. After Papa died my love for that place had died too. I never felt a sense of home there yet didn’t realise it until this moment how disconnected I really was to it.

My thoughts were broken when I heard Ulf speak,

“Gyldi, your father was told by Sjelesseer this day would come. I now must tell you some things that might be hard to hear. Firstly, remember your father loved you more than anything else and all he did he did because of that love. Remember that no matter what I tell you.”. 

I nodded eager and desperate to understand all that had taken place in the space of one day of my life. “The woman you think of as mother is not your birth mother. I am taking you to meet your mother, Vadi. She lives in the Lapps and is a Finn woman that your father fell in love with and together they had you. They decided you should grow up with your father and his wife as if you were her child because of the hostilities growing in Lapland.  They knew that a child as special as you would have been taken as a trophy. Your mother is a great shaman and healer of her clan, and she will know you are now on your way home. Gyldi, I am your older brother. I came to live with Papa Alvar to help watch over you. His mother was of the same clan as your mother, and you know how frowned upon that is in Norway, so it was all decided long ago that the secret be guarded.”

I was now in complete shock, yet I felt as if I already knew what Ulf was telling me –

“We have the same parents’ little sister. Our mother will be glad to finally have you home to teach you your true ways of our people. I would like to have given you a choice and more time, but you know that was not possible and for that I am terribly sorry my sweet little sister, the Golden One.” –

I couldn’t speak and for the first time I could recall my mind felt empty, yet full and I felt calm. I let out a great sigh and nodding said, “yes”, and it was all I was able to say in such an overwhelmed state of excitement and shock.

In the light of the moon saw whales breaching ahead of our boat. My eyes now fixed on them I saw water spraying from their spouts and as if by magic rainbows appeared from each spout.

“Follow the rainbows!” I blurted out in excitement. Ulf smiled knowingly,

“Ah you read the parchment message well.” –

“So, you knew about that too?” I asked.

His smile was so bright that I knew the answer to that and knew that he knew the answers to many things I was yet to learn.

“Those whales are all your grandmothers’ little sister. They are guiding you home. The symbol on the hide skin is both the map Sjelesseer said you would take, and she imbued it to guide you with protection as she knew she would not be there to help you. Now, we have several days at sea so have a rest little sister and I will tell you all about it.”

I held the piece of parchment in my hand without all the fear I had felt since first holding it. I would keep this treasured piece of goatskin to remind me of my path, and to hold a piece of Sjelesseer’s energy close to me.

I felt safe and surrounded by love for the first time since Papa had died. I knew I was on the right path. As Grandmothers whale songs filled the night air Gyldglifer, my beautiful golden mare settled into the area Ulf had prepared for her. I nestled into a pile of furs and thought,

“Destiny is such a curious thing. My story has just ended, yet it is just beginning too.”

End Notes

In Norse-Icelandic literature Finns referred to are in fact Saami peoples of Lapland thus Finns referred to here, refers to the Saami peoples.

Name Meanings

Most of the names are either directly translatable in Old Norse to these meanings, however some creative license has been used for the purposes of this short story

Central Character: Gyldi Lumi (Golden Light of Life) Alvarsdóttir

Father: Alvar (Elf Warrior)

Stepmother: Wendela Ólafsdóttir

Birth mother: Vadi (Strong Woman) Terosdóttir of the ALU Clan – Lapland

Sisters: Maja Alvarsdóttir (eldest) and Leva Alvarsdóttir

Seeress/Priestess: Sjelesseer (Soul Seer)

Horse: Gyldglifer (Golden Glider)

Brother: Ulf Alvarsson

Other: Thorfinn – husband of Leva

Runes and Sigil on parchment in picture

The sigil pictured and depicted in the story is a real design created which denotes the protected pathway when Gyldi takes her journey and returns, always rooted to “home”, with this it has also been designed to invoke success, insight, love, abundance, recognition, and a new life beginning – also waterways denoted that lead to wonderous places

The runes in the picture featured in this story translate to:

ᛚᛅᛁᛏᛅ᛫ᛅᚦ᛫ᚱᛅᚴᚾᛒᚬᚴᚢᛘ

leita að regnbogum

Look for rainbows

Susie j Folmer ©

© Susie J Folmer