Otter's Tale. Susan D. Guyer
poisonous atmosphere in the house had become much worse since Otter's father Isak died just before Christmas. Björn and Otter had different mothers, but Isak was their common father. Björn also had a younger brother named Elof, but he had moved away a few years before. When Björn and Elof lost their mother as young boys, Isak had moved home to Nordmark to live with his parents on their farm so that they could help look after the boys. After his parents' deaths, he and the two boys got by as well as they could. Then Sunna and her daughter Raija arrived back in Nordmark. Isak took them in, and Sunna soon had the household and family under strict, but benevolent, control. The older man had gradually fallen in love with gentle Raija, and Otter was the result of their marriage. Sadly, Raija had passed away when Otter was only three years old.
"She's a witch!" Jutta cried out again. "Haven't you seen how she smeared butter on our doorframe to attract the devil? And those evil-smelling brews she fed your father just before he died? I'm sure she poisoned him!"
Björn was not a fast-thinker, but he was quick to lose his temper, especially in the morning. Otter could see his neck and then face turning red and feared that he would hit Jutta to knock some sense into her. But then Sunna came hurrying in from outside. She, too, was wet from the rain, but carefully shook out her shawl and wiped her feet before stepping into the room.
"What do you think you're doing?" she confronted Jutta, grabbing the goose head from her outstretched hand. "You're dripping blood all over the floor."
The two women glared at each other, neither of them willing to back down from this battle. Björn looked from one to the other, not sure whose side he should take.
Jutta turned to him and shouted, "If you don't do something about it, I'm going to tell the village priest! I won't have a witch in my house!" When Björn didn't react immediately, she snatched back the goose's head and ran out the door in the direction of the village.
By this time, Björn was so angry and confused that he took a threatening step towards Sunna, his hand raised, ready to strike. This was too much for Otter, who dashed between the two of them and pushed Björn back and away from her grandmother. The blow he then delivered flung Otter across the room, where she landed on the floor in a heap near the hearth.
Shaking with rage, Björn rubbed his mouth and struggled to get himself under control. "You have to leave," he finally told Sunna. "I can't protect you if she goes to the priest. You remember what they did to you the last time."
He turned and looked at Otter lying on the floor. "Take her with you. My wife will make her life hell here. The only peace I'll get is if both of you are gone!"
He quickly pulled on his breeches and shoes, then put his jacket on over his nightshirt, grabbing his hat from a peg as he went out the door. "I'll try to slow them down, but you need to leave fast."
Stunned, Otter watched from the floor as her grandmother went to the table and calmly packed the bread and cheese in a pouch, tying it to her belt. Seeing Otter lying on the floor, she sharply told her to put on as many layers of clothing as she could. In the meantime, Sunna went to her own cupboard bed and began pulling things out of the large drawer at the bottom. By the time Otter had finished getting dressed, Sunna had tied everything together in two bundles - one large one for herself and a smaller one for Otter to carry.
They quickly left the house, walking past the smithy where Isak had worked so hard, training his sons as they grew older to become skilled blacksmiths themselves. When she and Sunna reached the nearby river, Otter looked for the family of otters that lived there and felt relieved to see them frolicking in the water as usual, despite the stormy weather. As she and Sunna began climbing the hill to reach the trail in the forest, Otter looked back and saw the little otter heads popping out of the water to watch her leave, as if they had paused for a moment in their play to say farewell.
She remembered learning how to swim there in the river with her favorite half-brother, Elof. He was the one who had given her the nickname Otter. With her wet brown hair slicked back on her head and her curious, playful eyes watching his every move as she treaded water before diving once again to explore the bottom of the river, he decided she looked like an otter pup and the name stuck. Turning away to follow her grandmother, Otter wondered where Elof was now. If he had been at home that morning, maybe none of this would ever have happened.
Chapter Two
Bliss
In his home in the village of Wira Bruk on the other side of Sweden, Elof gently cradled his baby son in his large, calloused hands, watching his wife, Adelia, as she and their cook prepared the evening meal. The baby caught his attention, flashing charming smiles up at him, so he began making funny faces and cooing noises that imitated the sounds the baby had just started to experiment with. Soon Elof was so entranced by his son that he didn't even notice when Adelia's father walked into their kitchen.
"What a blessed scene!" his father-in-law called out merrily, causing Elof to look up with embarrassment written all over his face.
"Oh, Papa!" Adelia exclaimed as she rushed over to hug her father. "The baby's learned to smile. Come look!" Proudly she led her father over to Elof, who handed him the baby to hold. Adelia's father awkwardly took the child, who looked up at him earnestly and then farted loudly. Looking embarrassed himself, he quickly handed the baby to his daughter and rubbed his hands together as if to wash them clean.
"I just stopped by to see if the roof is holding well enough against all this rain," Adelia's father explained. He pointed to an outside wall and went up closer to examine the corner of the ceiling. Adelia had always lived in this large one-story house, the only child of the well-to-do iron merchant and his wife. Her mother had died young and her father never remarried. Adelia had grown up with a series of housekeepers and a doting father who fulfilled her every wish. When Adelia and Elof got married, her father moved out to a smaller cottage nearby, hoping to leave plenty of space for lots of grandchildren.
"Stay with us for supper," Adelia suggested. "It's almost ready and there is more than enough."
Her father gladly accepted the invitation and sat down at the head of the large wooden table while Elof fetched a pewter mug and poured him some ale. Elof was still amazed that Adelia's father had given them permission to get married. As a wealthy merchant, he was well-accepted in the best circles of the village of Wira Bruk and was active in their parish of the Lutheran Church. Elof, on the other hand, brought no money or connections whatsoever into the marriage.
When he was a young man, Elof's father Isak had been chosen to work in Örebro, where the best blacksmiths of the time were gathered together to make weapons for King Gustav Adolf II and his army, who were off fighting in the Thirty Years' War. After his wife's death, Isak had returned to his home in Nordmark with his two sons. He was a skilled blacksmith, but there was not much money to be earned in that trade in Nordmark. He had given his two sons the best training he could, but it was clear that only one of them could take over the smithy in the small village. When Elof was about 16, his father decided to send him away to Wira Bruk to become a bladesmith.
Wira Bruk was located to the east of Nordmark, just north of Stockholm. It had been founded in 1630 to make arms for Gustav Adolf II and the Swedish army, like the smithy in Örebro, but Wira Bruk was intended especially for blade-making. German bladesmiths were smuggled into the country to teach the men working there the newest methods for edged steel weapons like bayonets, swords and even fancy rapiers for the courtiers attending the King. Now Gustav Adolf II's controversial daughter Christina ruled the country from Stockholm. The demand for fancy swords and daggers at court had not decreased, despite the end of the Thirty Years' War in 1648. Although tools like scythes and axes were also produced in Wira Bruk, Elof had concentrated on learning how to make the more beautiful, though deadly, weapons.
When he first arrived in Wira Bruk, Elof lived with the other apprentices and workmen in a large house near the forges. Most of his time was spent hammering away at a hot forge, but in the evenings he joined his friends at the village tavern to quench his thirst.