Summary: A fanciful alternate history of early Estonia and Denmark, told as a legend. One man can sing the wind, and the other covets it. Rated E for Everyone.
Notes: Written May 22 2009; revised July 04 2010. Was written for an Anonymous friend, who asked to be told a bed time story, one they had never heard before.
The Man Who Sang The Wind
Come here. Sit by me - yes. Now, listen.
Many years ago by the coast of the cold sea there lived a man whose words wove the wind. He could be found sitting on a rock by the shore, and the people who lived in the nearby town would come to him if they were to go out. He was the master at that spell, and in exchange for some kind words and drink he would sing the wind-song for those who needed to go out upon the water. In that way, he would give them good fortune and swift sailing.
When sailors travelled far across the sea they brought with them stories of the man who sang the wind. Those stories reached many who craved those spells for themselves, as the sea and the wind are cruel, rough mistresses to sailors. There was one man in particular who coveted the wind. He was a tall, rough warrior with a grin like a wolf, and when he heard the stories he decided to take his men and follow the trail, even if it meant travelling all the way across the cold sea.
And so that raider with the wolf-like grin took his warriors and sailed across the Baltic in search of the man who sang the wind. They sailed east, always searching and following the stories, until finally they had sailed almost the entire length of that stretch of dark water. Finally they came to the place where the wind-weaver lived.
The people of the town sighted the vessels of the boat-people, and in worry they shut themselves up in their homes, but the wind-singer did not move from his flat rock on the shore, and even when the boat-people landed, he did not move an inch. The warrior with the wolf-smile saw him and knew he was the man of the stories, and so he went up to him and spoke in the words of the people of the west.
The wind-weaver knew this language, and so when the raider demanded he tell him the spell he understood him completely. So he told that great pirate that he would give him the words, if in exchange he would never return with his ships and his men to that place. Well, the warrior smiled and told him that of course he would not return, as there was nothing in that far corner of the world that he and his people would want.
The wind-singer knew that this was a lie. He had seen the ships of the boat-people, and he had heard stories of them, and he knew that his own people had been attacked by them many a time in the years before. Even so, he smiled as if he knew nothing, and said that he would gladly tell the words. And so he gave the raider words, and they were in his own language. He told that leader to repeat the words three times, so that he would remember them.
The wind-weaver said that the spell only worked when one was a certain distance from shore, and that when it was to be spoken, one should shout the words as loudly as possible. Then he bid the warrior farewell.
The raider and his warriors went off again, knowing they would return to that very spot the next day, as they would pillage and then raze the town. However, the pirate desired to test his new spell, and so when they were upon the water and a good distance from shore, he stood in the middle of his boat and shouted as loudly as he could the words the wind-weaver had given him.
He did not know that language of the north and the east, and so he did not understand that those words were not the spell to weave gentle wind, but a spell to bring storms. And the wind-gods heard, and the thunder-god too, and they gathered together in response. Their call was the call of the greatest thunder, and they roared and pounded the sea with their fists, and the air was dark and filled with flashes of the brightest lightning. The sea heard this, and it lifted its hands and swept up the ships and brought them deep down to the bottom, where no man would ever see them again.
The man who wove wind sat on his rock on the shore and watched this. When he knew that his enemies were gone and his people were safe, he whispered the wind-song. His words were carried on the breeze, and soon the darkness went away, and the wind was made gentle, and the sea was made still.
The stories carried on after that day, but no raider dared attack the town again as long as the wind-singer lived.