Part of Tale 1 - Butterfly.

The Ögurr People existed in a different world, a vastly different time where humans were spiritually connected to the magic of the earth. The myths that surrounded the Ögurr People were many but most vanished as the centuries slowly rolled past.
Human interest in these ancient people was cyclical. Men, full of the importance of their own science, became interested in the Ögurr People in the 16th century and then lost interest. The interest was revived in the 18th century and again in the 20th and 21st centuries.
With all the authority that only human science can muster, even when they are wrong, humans confidently decreed all they knew about these somewhat mythical people. In Reynolds' Guide to Ancient Peoples, Doctor Reynolds allocates two paragraphs to the Ögurr People:

‘There is no substantive evidence to indicate where the Ögurr People came from. For all intents and purposes, it seems they just appeared and inhabited the lands to the north of the Jut River in the mists of human history. From descriptions in ancient writings, it seems these people were more civilised than their contemporaries and possessed skills that others did not. Of course, most of these writings were created in retrospect and so it is almost impossible to assess their validity.
The last reference to the Ögurr People was in the 9th century and it is as if they disappeared as mysteriously as they had appeared. There have been claims in the past from academics that, frankly, should have known better, that these people did exist, and that they had evidence to prove it. To date, such evidence has not been tabled.’

But I know more.
Formerly a nomadic people with a tradition of hunting, the Ögurr people slowly evolved to herding animals as well as continuing as hunters and gatherers.
As their herds of horses and cattle grew, the Ögurr People, under the warrior Lord Maiko, settled between two camps; the mountain camp in the summer where the grass was lush and their winter camp on the banks of the Jut River, where the grass survived the few snow falls.
There was much talk that the Ögurr would soon choose only one camp and the nomadic ways would be forgotten forever. There were others, though, who argued that the Ögurr people should return to the ancient ways of a life of wandering.
There are many tales of the Ögurr People and this first tale is but one - the story of the butterfly, Arnkatla.
 

My name was Nota.

There it is; a simple statement that, perhaps, could simply be accepted and not really examined. Let me rephrase it.

I was Nota.

And this is the story of my birth, the beginning of a life. Not a simple story, but then, perhaps it is simple; it always depends how one reads the signs, the signs of life.

And what a life it has been; what lives I have lived as part of the Ögurr People!

Life, or at least the first part of it, was not happy for me.

A Yallikio raiding party killed my father when they found his hunting party on their lands. My mother had been young enough to be taken as a wife to another man but she, and what would have been my half-sister, died in birth, so I was left alone.

Although born into the tribe, I have always felt apart and alone. I was different in many ways and always felt that difference, especially under the cold eyes of the warriors.

Most men of the Ögurr People have broad shoulders and thick necks and arms. They have always been expert horsemen and are the hunters, the warriors of the tribe. All boys are given the opportunity to be warriors and to follow through the steps of initiation to manhood. Not all are successful and some fail those first steps.

Those boys that cannot hunt are herdsmen, relegated to care for the cattle and the horses - an important role but not as glamorous or as dangerous as the life of a warrior. The herdsmen were denied many of the rewards of the warrior but accepted their lot stoically and without complaint.

In the Ögurr community, it did not matter whether a male was a warrior or a herdsman. Men had to fend for themselves and, as I was on the cusp of manhood when my father died, I had no choice but to provide for myself.

I was not as physically powerful as the other men; I was thin and small, a physical difference that caused much teasing from the older boys and the warriors. The teasing became harsher when it was plain that I would never be good horseman.
The truth was, I was afraid of horses, a fact that soon became glaringly obvious, no matter how I tried to gentle those cantankerous beasts. It was impossible for me to befriend horses and stepping near them made me tremble with an irrational and obvious fear. This, of course, brought much ridicule upon my head.

I was not meant to be a warrior and I was instructed to join the small group of old men and youths with addled minds who watered and fed the horses and cattle. The herdsmen did accept me, even gave me advice but I retreated into myself and lived day to day.

It was apparent I became morose and a little bitter. Úlfr, a young herdsman, tried to jolly me out of my moods, telling me that any life was better than none at all but I ignored his best efforts until even he left me alone.

Every day, I would tie the cows up and watch the thin line of girls walk up the hill to milk them. As was the custom, I would leave them to it, leave them to their women’s work and walk over to the herdsmen’s fire to cook a small bird or rabbit I had trapped.

The girls and the woman who cared for them would watch me leave and then begin their milking. It was women’s work to milk the cows, so, I comforted myself, that I had not sunk that low.

The Ögurr women are curvy and petite. They rear the children, gather food where they can, milk the cows, and cook the meat provided by the warriors. It was traditional that after the women had cooked the food and fed the children and themselves, they served the men who had provided the food. A warrior always ate after the women and children had been fed.
There were always a much smaller number of females than men within the tribe and women had the power to choose their mates. I knew I was not brave or powerful enough to be chosen by a woman as her husband as no woman would select me, that thin boy who walked behind cows and who, the rumour was muttered, was simple in thought and good for nothing.

I was destined to be alone.

I was cruelly ignored or publicly humiliated by the warriors and I had no standing in the community. It was impossible for me to even talk to the young women in their ochre gowns, let alone ask them for a smile.

A smile.
The first sign of formal courtship between a man and a woman. A warrior would formally ask the woman he was attracted to for a smile and always before witnesses.

If a young woman was attracted to the young man, she would bring the cloth of her headpiece up to the tip of her nose, hold it there for a moment and then let it fall aside to smile at him while he gazed upon her face. It was a signal that she considered him to be suitable as a suitor and was a momentous event.

The women were not veiled and their faces were visible, but it was tradition to give the smile to the suitor, just as it was traditional to take the smile from a man the girl rejected.

If the young woman was not interested, she would pull the cloth up to her nose, stare at the poor man and then turn her face away. Usually the warriors would laugh and slap the shoulder of the rejected, blushing man, offer consolation and point out other pretty girls.

I knew that I would never be a part of that small ceremony. In Ögurr society, I was at the lowest point in the social hierarchy - even the herdsmen now treated me with a dull contempt.

The warriors, I thought, had a golden life. Of course, it was dangerous and in some cases, a brief life. But it was glorious while they were alive and I envied that.

To me and, I’m sure, the women, they seemed more colourful than life itself. They would stride from their tents and call for their horses, jostling each other in a good humoured way as they winked at the young unmarried women in their ochre gowns. The young women pretended to ignore them as they guided the girls in their grey gowns past the joking men.

Sometimes though, I saw some of the young women offer fleeting and shy looks to the warriors, but the older women in the group would quickly say something to the warrior who immediately appeared chagrined while the others laughed.

That was the most dangerous time for me as the warriors seemed to delight in teasing me when the silent women were around to watch.

Some of the warriors enjoyed making me bring their horses to them, laughing as I struggled with their beasts, often laughing loudest when a horse knocked me to the ground. I often wished I could overcome my fear of those animals, but I could not.

Ketill, a young powerful warrior, enjoyed teasing and humiliating me. He would pick me up easily with both arms wrapped around me like a wrestler and throw me into the stream in the mountain camp or the river in summer or, worse, into horse droppings on the small path.

I would glare at him but he was a powerful swordsman and, as I had no training in the art of the sword, I was powerless and would hang my head in shame. He hated me for my physical difference and claimed I had Yallikio blood in my veins. He would laugh before his eyes grew cold and then he would spit on me.

‘Freak! Fool!’ He would call all manner of curses upon me before he leapt to his horse and rode off with the hunting party.

Slowly, I would pick myself up, red face down to avoid the silent women and hurry away before I saw the contempt or, even worse, pity in their eyes.

I hated Ketill as much as he hated me and wished I were brave enough to do something about his relentless teasing and humiliation. It was a futile hope; even if I somehow found the courage, I did not have the skills and he would slaughter me in a second.
 

As the cold winds that announced the coming of winter began to blow, the Ögurr people moved from their mountain camp down to the plains, moving to the banks of the River Jut, where the horses and cattle could graze and the snow was not heavy.

That year, the snows came early. The women and children - with some trusted warriors to guard them - walked down with the wagons to the Jut to set up camp while the rest of us slowly followed with the horses and cattle.

I watched the women laughing and chattering as they loaded the wagons. Some were singing softly and I strained my ears to listen. Music had always appealed to me in a way I could never understand and I often used to sing to myself, experimenting with sounds when I was alone in the forest.

The sounds of laughter, voices, singing and the colourful mixture of the grey, ochre and dark gowns made it appear like a carnival, especially with the children running around, playing and calling out. The warriors would casually ride past, appealing to young women and flirting while the women worked.

Slowly the wagons, driven by a selected few of the older married men, began their journey down to River Jut. Those women heavy with child rode in the wagons with the very young children, but most of the women walked, still talking and laughing, some even holding hands, and their faces partially hidden by the headpieces of their gowns to protect against the sudden cold winds. Some carried babies wrapped tightly against them, other walked with children in a mass of three main colours - the grey of the girls, the ochre of the unmarried women and the striking dark blue of the married women and mothers.

It was a great honour to be chosen by Maiko to be one of the warriors to guard the woman and children. Those chosen ones rode high in their saddles, their hands brushing swords as they tried to look dangerous and forbidding, all the time hoping one of the women would glance their way.

‘Tend the cattle, you addled fool!’ I turned and saw the chief herdsmen glowering at me and sighing, I used my Elm switch to flick the lead cow to begin the slow march down to the new camp.

We would take several days longer than the women as we had to allow the animals to graze as much as they could on the way. Even at River Jut, fodder would become scarce once the winter closed in and we had to fatten the animals as much as possible before the snows came.

The remainder of the warriors were left to guard us and they were surly, as they felt slighted, all wishing they were with the women. They brightened considerably when they saw that Lord Maiko was riding with us, accompanied by Kamien, his advisor and Magus.

Kamien rode up to the herdsmen and peered down at us, his eyes searching for something or someone, and we lowered our eyes in fear. His eyes fell on me for a moment and I thought he was signaling me out for some task or punishment, but I was relieved to discover he was simply selecting a suitable horse for his new servant, Dkut.

The servant, as we discovered, was mute and some whispered that Kamien had removed Dkut’s tongue so he could be trusted to keep the secrets of the powerful magician.

As he chose the horse, we kept a respectful distance and watched. The servant, so big he made the horse look small, pulled himself onto its back and then rode to the head of our caravan.

The winds were cold and after two days’ march, snow flurried around us in small gusts as we walked. The warriors were wrapped in bearskins and we envied them the warmth but dare not complain. We had rough coats of rabbit or cow leather to keep the cold from our bones and that would have to be sufficient.

After we had made camp, Maiko and a small party of warriors rode on to make sure of the safety of the women at Jut and left the young Ludic in command of us. It was a great honour indeed but Ludic showed no emotion, just nodded and immediately issued orders.

Ketill was jealous of Ludic and was in a foul temper so I cautiously avoided him for the rest of the night and the next day’s march. We walked by day and at night we sat around roaring campfires while wolves who could smell the cattle, howled in the darkness.

On the fourth night of our journey, I was on watch at one end of the camp with the cows and I was exhausted, dreaming of a better life in a better world. The animals had been restless, perhaps sensing the wolves and I had walked amongst them softly singing until they were reasonably calm.

At last, I sat against a tree trunk, wrapped the thin rabbit skins around me and stared moodily at the dark shapes of the cows. Tiredness weighed on me and I did not notice a cow had wandered off, the wooden bell around its neck making a hollow sound in the darkness. I also did not notice that the howls of the wolves had suddenly stopped, a sign they were about to attack. Wolves leapt from the darkness and took down the stray, its anguished cries renting the night.

Instantly, the warriors silently moved through the darkness, fighting the wolves with their swords. Finally, three wolves lay dead but alas, so did the cow.

Ketill, of course, took the opportunity to be furious and cursed me for my laziness, hitting me hard in the face and I fell to the ground, tasting my own blood on my lips.

‘Were you asleep?’ he shouted, standing over me, his drawn sword glistening with wolf blood. ‘You allowed a cow to wander and now it is dead! You must die; it is the way of our people!’

He raised his sword but Ludic stepped forward and held Ketill’s sword hand.

‘No,’ he said calmly and Ketill’s eyes glittered at him in the firelight. Ludic coolly held his eyes until Ketill turned away.

‘We must kill him,’ Ketill called out to the watching warriors, ‘it will tell all how important their watch is! We are touching Yallikio lands, and we must be vigilant! Nota is useless with a useless mouth to feed!’

Dkut, servant to the Magus, slipped into the firelight and made gestures with his hands in the direction of the River Jut. No one could understand Dkut but Ludic guessed his meaning or, perhaps applied his own meaning to those strange gestures.
‘It is the law that he be punished,’ Ludic called strongly, ‘but his fate must be decided by Maiko. Bind him and we will wait until we are at the winter camp.’

Ludic shook his head sadly at me as I cowered in the dirt. ‘You have been foolish, Nota,’ he said to me, ‘but perhaps Maiko will be merciful. We have lost beasts on the journey before.’

He turned his back on Ketill, who scowled at me, and Ludic calmly issued instructions to the warriors. ‘Those who are on watch, go to your posts and beware of wolves and Yallikio. Herdsmen, cut the meat from the cow and pack it for our march. The rest of you, sleep. We should be at the Jut soon.’

The next day, with my hands bound in front of me, I was dragged by Ketill down the trail by a long rope tied to his saddle. He rode faster than usual to make sure I spent most of the time on my belly in the mire, choking on dirty snow. The warriors would ride past me and make gestures that indicated my throat was going to be cut and I dully accepted my life was over.

What a life, I thought miserably, it is no life to be concerned with. There may be a better life for me in the Golden Fields.

The herdsmen kept their eyes from me, afraid that they would also become the target of Ketill’s rage and even Úlfr turned his eyes from me with sadness.

That night, I slumped by the horses, watching the warriors huddle around the fire. It was then I knew my fate was sealed when Ketill suddenly appeared and loudly claimed that he had found food hidden in my belongings. There was a hiss from the watching warriors and the other herdsmen. Men did not steal and hoard food; they were providers, and even though they might be hungry, the women, children and the animals must be fed first.

‘This,’ Ketill said loudly, holding fresh meat in the air, ‘is food provided by warriors! This,’ he sneered at me, ‘is a herdsmen, he has stolen food!’

Even though it was not true and I suspected that Ketill had planted the food, I did not speak out; I knew I would not be believed. What was the point? Head down, I blinked and tried to stop the tears forming, trying to spare myself from one last humiliation.

I don’t know why he hates me, I thought, we must have unresolved trouble from our previous lives.
The warriors kicked me as they chained me far from the fires and spat on me before walking away, leaving me to shiver in the darkness. The cold was bitter and I believed I would freeze to death during the night and, at least, would be spared death by sword.

A few hours later, Ludic’s dark shape appeared and I shrank back, fearing he had decided to kill me after all. Instead, without a word, he threw an old bearskin to me for warmth and left some food and water before melting back into the darkness.
 

The winter camp was alive with colours, a line of large colourful lodges clustered around high ground overlooking the banks of the Jut River. The grass was long and plentiful and the cattle were allowed to spread and munch contentedly.
It was not as cold as the mountains but was still cool and smoke drifted from the chimney holes in the tents. The dogs huddled together for warmth, their heads jerking up as the horses trotted past.

The women and children stood silently in front of their lodges and watched me being dragged past, whispering amongst themselves and pointing. I imagined I saw pity in their eyes but told myself not to be stupid; the women did not know I existed.

The priestess Gunnvör stood by a large tent, her dark shawl wrapped around her as she watched my progress through the camp. Her eyes appeared to keenly follow me and I wondered what she saw.

Maiko’s lodge was large with smoke drifting from its chimney hole and its entrance draped with banners where warriors stood on guard. The women, who were serving the meal, looked at me askance as they passed with steaming bowls of food.
Ketill took great delight in dragging me into the great lodge, where I prostrated myself in front of Maiko, who sat on a large skin covered bench. His wife, swollen with child, stood beside him and Kamien stood to his right.

Ludic explained the charges and the watching warriors and women murmured when he told of Ketill discovering hoarded food.

Maiko stared down at me and asked, ‘How do you answer, Nota?’ His voice was even but without a trace of kindness and I knew there would be no mercy for me here. I was, in his eyes, a useless male mouth to feed and the tribe would be better off without me. It was impossible to think a woman would select me to give her child so I could not even help to produce children. In short, I had no value.

Voice breaking, I admitted I had allowed the cow to stray but denied hoarding of food. Maiko instructed Ketill to tell how he discovered the food.

‘It was a deduction, Lord Maiko,’ he said proudly. ‘Look at him! He is weak and cannot hunt. How else could he provide for himself?’

That’s not true, I wanted to scream. I hunt small rabbits with snares, and I sometimes fish and gather berries, but I chose not to speak. They would not have believed me and would have laughed at me for gathering berries, which was women’s work.
Maiko studied me as I lay before him.

'From what I understand, Nota,’ he said, ‘you are not a warrior. A man who is afraid of horses could never be brave enough to be a warrior. You cannot even be trusted with the cattle. It is man’s duty to provide for the women and children first, followed by the animals, and then himself. Execute him,’ he said calmly, motioning dismissively with his fingers.

Ketill removed his sword swiftly and shouted, ‘Lord Maiko, I will behead him now, it will be my honour!’
Horrified, I cowered before them as Ketill raised his sword, its blade glinting in the torchlight, but then I saw Kamien quickly whisper in Maiko’s ear.

‘No,’ Maiko called, ‘The Magus has reminded me that beheading is a warrior’s death and this,’ he said gesturing at me, ‘is not a warrior!’ Some of warrior leaders watching laughed, but Ludic looked down impassively at me.

‘Take him to Kamien’s lodge,’ Maiko commanded, ‘where he will be given the choice of poison, a woman’s death. If he refuses the poison and decides to die with honour, Ketill can behead him when the sun rises. Take him away.’

Cowering with fear and sick to my stomach, Ludic and Ketill dragged me to the lodge of the Magus and threw me inside while they waited outside. Kamien followed me in and gestured with his fingers to Dkut who immediately began mixing and measuring potions.

 

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