At first, I couldn't understand why Ragnar would plan such an elaborate funeral for the man who burned his previous home, tortured his brother, and threatened his wife and children. That level of forgiveness and care for one's mortal enemies seemed so at odds with what I had come to know of this culture. Then I figured it out, it had to do with honor, honor was the backbone of this place. Though Earl Haraldson had acted dishonorably, by starting a blood feud against a man who had been deemed innocent, that didn't mean that Ragnar could return that dishonor by not properly honoring his predecessor in death. Honoring his predecessor's accomplishments in life by giving him a funeral indicative of a man of his stature, despite everything that Earl Haraldson had done, was a show of forgiveness, respect, and honor that I hadn't expected to be part of this culture's framework.
This was the first time I became consciously aware of something I'd be noticing for some time by then, that many of the values taught by Christ, the prophets, and apostles in the Holy Scriptures, were not absent in this world, they simply took a different form and expressed themselves in different ways.
Christians acted with mercy and justice to everyone we met because this is how Christ taught us to live while he was alive on Earth. The Northmen were ruthless to those who opposed and threatened them, and to outsiders if doing so meant a better life for themselves and their children, while they were steadfast and honorable toward their own people even when there was some emotional reason for them not to be.
The Northmen like to cremate their dead at sea, by turning boats filled with weapons and goods into floating, burning tombs. Their funerals were also a far cry from the As strange and as foreign as this might seem, their method of burial was not what I found most difficult to understand.
Before the funeral, Ragnar introduced me to a young woman who had been one of Earl Haraldson's slaves, the first thing that I noticed about this girl, was there she had clearly been drinking. Now, this was, and is, common place in this society. However, this particular girl seemed to no longer be aware of her surroundings or what was happening around her. I found this rather odd, until Ragnar told me that she had chosen to die along with her master and that the two servants tending to her were preparing her to be sacrificed as part of her master's funeral goods.
This out of all I had seen so far, was almost too difficult to take. The thought of it made me heave as though I would throw up, but I knew to hold my tongue. As a slave, I wasn't expected to be used to the way things are done in Kattegat, as a freeman, one who chose to remain among my former captors, I was expected to accept the way things worked.
When I left the tent where she was, I wandered for a while, watched the others having fun, yes, fun. In the culture of the Northmen just about everything that marks human life, marriages, festivals, battles, and even funerals, all involved rather joyous affairs with lots and lots of pleasure. I still wasn't quite used to that, having grown up in a monastery, I was even less used to this sort of thing than I would have been had I grown up in my actual hometown. For the most part I just watched awkwardly from the sidelines.
I hadn't gotten very far in my wanderings when Bjorn saw me, though he'd grown less openly antagonistic toward me since I'd brought him to Kattegat to see his parents return home, I still never knew what to expect from Bjorn. Despite the fact that his father had granted me my freedom, it was obvious that he still didn't see me as an equal. This time, he was kind and offered me a drink, which I took.
When the actual funeral started, Haraldson's wife, daughter, and servants came and placed offerings on his boat, only then did the slave girl step forward, closely guarded by the other two servant girls who had cleaned her and gotten her drunk. Knowing what was about to happen to her made me tense up, everything I'd ever learned in my monastic training, every instinct I had was screaming that what I saw in front of me was wrong.
"I can't watch this…" I said aloud almost without realizing it, then I turned to leave; but Bjorn stopped me, he was standing on a barrel to get a better view, and as soon as I spoke he put a hand on my shoulder and looked down at me with a look that was stern and angry.
"What is the problem? It is only death! You stay and you watch, everyone must.
Knowing that this was one of those things where I had less leniency as a freeman than I'd had as a slave, I did my best to watch, though it broke my heart to do so.
When they reached the point of cutting her throat and actually killing her, my stomach lurched, all the while the onlookers around me were cheering as though they were watching something great, it was more than I could bear, and it was then that I slipped away from the crowd, not knowing what to think. It was all I could do to get to the edge of the village before throwing up.
Once I was confident that no one had seen me leave, I started off toward home, Ragnar had told me that I could stay in and use the old farmhouse on the outskirts of town for the time being but knowing that I wasn't much of a farmer, he'd promised to have a small cottage ready for me to move into by the time winter came. By the time I arrived back at the farm I was more physically, emotionally, and spiritually exhausted than I'd ever been in my life. I collapsed on my bed, said my prayers without even bothering to kneel, and went to sleep.
After the funeral, Ragnar launched one final raid for the year, and again he did not take me with him. Lagertha was with child so she did not go either. It would be quite some time before I learned what exactly happened on that raid, but though I couldn't possibly have known it back then, it would pave the way for both great and terrible things none of us could have imagined. Unfortunately, all was not peaceful in Kattegat while the raiding party was gone, Lagertha miscarried and this too would have far reaching consequences beyond my wildest imaginings.