The Hulders

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Issue #3 September 1998-5101

The Hulders
by William Knight

Greybeard leaned his staff against the long table and lowered himself to the short stool before it. Along the table sat the village children, waiting for their morning breakfast. He couldn't help but smile. Before him sat the village's future, and from where he was, it looked good and promising. As the food and milk were brought about, a child called out for a story. "A story? What shall we talk about today? Any suggestions my children?"

"Tell us about the trolls." Called one.

"No, tell us about Fro Ing's elves." Said another.

"I wanna hear about the underground people." Yelled someone from the back.

Raising his hands, Old Greybeard motioned for them to quite down. Pointing to the girl in the back, he said. "Yes, I think the underground people would be a good story. But we call them 'Hulders'. And some of them do live underground, much like the Svartalf's do."

A boy raised his hand, "I met a Hulder once." He said. The other children laughed at him. He frowned. "It's true. I did." He protested. "And he told me about this magical drinking horn that was taken from his mound years ago that would make crops grow."

Graybeard watched the boy closely. "A magical drinking horn." He nodded.

"He speaks the truth children." With this, the others stopped their laughing and taunting. If Old Graybeard said it was the truth, then it was so and none doubted him. The boy's friend turned and looked at him with a little more respect now.

"The Hulder people have such horns. In fact, they are so prized for their powers, that many humans will try to get them, though it can be a dangerous thing at times. Now listen closely children as I tell you about these wondrous little people who can bring you weal, or bring you wight." With that, Old Graybeard began to weave his tale of fiction and fact, of what was known by some, and some of what was known by none.

"In the village of Haoughrburg there was a young farmer named Var Ingerson and a maiden from a nearby farm named Olayf Kriegssdottir. Var and Olayf were very taken with one another. In the spring they took walks through the fields together, meet at the local well and made wishes to the wight living within for a long life together. At the summer festivals, they would dance with one another, and give offerings to the Fro and Frau. In the fall Var and Olayf would take part with the other villagers in remembrance of their faith's fallen hero's; where as, in winter, when it came time to give honor to Skadi and Uller.

"Olayf and Var were happy together with one exception. Olayf's father, Kveldred, didn't like Var. In his younger days Kveldred had been a fighter, who'd gone on many trips to the neighboring countries in which he'd fought many battles and acquired much wealth. While Var was accomplished with the sword as well as the plow he was not proven in battle, nor was he wealthy. To Kveldred, Var was unproven and as such, not worthy of his daughter. At every opportunity, he let Var know that.

"One day, as Kveldred was telling his this, Var decided he'd had enough.

"Hold your tongue!" He cried out. "I will prove you wrong."

"Bahhhh. You aren't even worthy of being able to get me the horn of a hulder." Said Kveldred with a snort. "They'd catch you and whisk you away under their mound where you'd spend all time till twilight of the gods."

"Without a word, Var left, vowing to himself that he would get such a horn and do so that very night. To his brother's farm he went and with his permission, took a fast horse from within the stables.

"As the glow of Manni's eye lit the evening sky, Var upon his swift horse rode to the place which the locals called the "Gray Mound" for the hulders within.

As Manni rose higher into the night sky, Var could soon hear the sound of voices from the mounds direction, which became the sound of merriment mingled with the clatter of drinking horns.

"Urging the horse on, he approached the mound slowly and called out with a strong, clear voice, "Ho! Within the mound. I hear the sounds of good cheer and drink. Would you help a traveler in need with a simple drink to quench my thirst?"

"'Go away traveler, this drink is to good to be shared with the likes of you.'

"'Oih! But I have come far today. Surely you have even a drop to share' Said Var.

"'Be gone with you.' Came back the reply.

"'Ah, I have only heard poor hosts talk like that, or those with bad drink.' As he spoke Var urged the horse to a faster trot.

"'Bad drink to you then.' Yelled an angry voice, the shape a short hulder becoming visible as it hurled a drinking horn at Var, who caught it with a loud cry of triumph. With a laugh he rode off, heedless of the shouts behind.

"The next morning, Var went to Kveldred's farm, proudly displaying the horn from a cord about his neck. Upon seeing this Olayf shouted with a joy while Kveldred merely scowled.

"'What is this?' He said. "A trick would not be good. If you bring me a lowlydrinking horn in mock or is this the splendid drinking horn of the Hulder's you boasted of getting?"

"Not letting the harsh words sting him, Var repleid. "Tonight, when Manni's eye reaches high, meet at your fields with some mead and I will show you."

"Sensing no good from this, Kveldred had a barrel of his worst drink set ready for that night. As the bright glow of Manni shinned down upon his fields, Kveldred with his men went to the fields and waited until Var showed, with Olayf at his side.

"'Show me Mighty Var, this great horn and what it can do."

"Handing him the horn, Var also drew out a jar of drink. "Fill the horn with this and let your crops drink from it."

"'Ha! As I thought, a trick. The horn is worthless and the drink is magic."

"Shaking his head sadly, Var pointed to the barrel by Kveldred's retainers.

"Then use your own. Fill the horn and let your crops drink of it."

"With a look of doubt, Kveldred did as told. Pouring from the horn onto his fields, he expected nothing to happen and when the sprouts began to grow, new growth quickly forming on them, he gasped in amazement. Filling the horn again and again, he ran from spot to spot, pouring it's contents out onto the crops till the barrel was dry.

"Stepping before Kveldred, Var looked him in the eyes. "Now, as you see before you, your crops prosper from this magic horn. It is my gift to you and from you, I will have your say in being able to share my life with your daughter."

"Nodding his head, Kveldred clasped his hands upon Var's shoulders. "It will be as you say. Though you aren't a viking, you have the spirit to overcome. As fiery haired Thunor would like that, so do I. We will feast in your honor."

"And to this day, the kin of Var and Olayf still thrive in this village."

Greybeard smiled as he ended his story, his hand affectionately rubbing the head of the girl who originally mentioned the hulders, his eyes meeting those of the child's parents, both smiling knowingly themselves.

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