Smile of the Wolf

Now, take up that sword. Take a shield and step on to the hide with me. And know that we will fight by the old law. The duel ends not with a drop of a man’s blood, but with all of it.

You tell me that you love me. And I love you, but that changes nothing. I cannot come with you to the new lands, for no ship will take a cripple, an outlaw such as I. What is left to me, when you have gone to the new lands? I see myself alone by the fire, weeping like a fool, for unnumbered days. The remainder of my life, and I shall spend it alone. Would you condemn me to that? Would you accept that life if it were offered to you? I think you would not.

Step forward now, one last step. For now we both stand upon the hide and we cannot move away: you shall be a coward if you do, and I know that you cannot bear the shame of that. We must fight, and do not think to go gently against me. For I love you, but I shall fight in earnest. I will kill you or you shall kill me. For it is better to see you dead than see you live as a coward.

It is the fate of poets that we are to die on the hide in a holmgang, our blood upon the leather, speaking the name of the one we love most. Give me the death that I long for. Give me the chance to speak that name. I have lived long enough.

It will not be Sigrid’s name. Or Gunnar’s, or Kari’s, or that of the White Christ. It will be your name, Sumardil, if I have strength for one last breath at the end. Listen for it. Listen for your name.

It is time. There are no words left.

Come. Let us begin.