EN113.23 Grievances

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    Ott 2023

    14. Added by Frethorik

    14a. Fryasland Swamped, ca. 305 BCE

    [113/23] My name is Frethorik, surnamed Oera Linda, which means ‘over the Linde’.[1] I was elected magistrate at Liudwardia, a new settlement within the ring dyke of the burg Liudgarda, the name of which has fallen into disrepute.

    During my time, much has transpired, about which I have kept an extensive record. But many things were also reported to me later. Of the one and [114] the other, I will add a selection to this book, to honor the good and to shame the bad.

    In my youth, I heard grievances all over: Bad times would come — bad times had come. Frya had forsaken us; she had withheld her watch maidens because idolatrous images had been found within our borders. I burned with curiosity to see these images. In our neighborhood, there was an old maid who marched in and out of the houses, always heralding bad times. One day, I came up alongside her. She stroked my chin. Now I was emboldended and asked her to teach me about the bad times and the images. She gave a goodly smile and brought me to the burg. An alderman asked me if I could read and write. “No,” I said. “Then first you must go and learn,” he replied, “or else you cannot be taught.” So I went daily to the scribe and studied.

    Eight years later, I heard that our burgmaid had been promiscuous and that some of the lords had betrayed us to the magus. Many people, it was said, were on their side. Dissension grew everywhere. Children revolted against their parents. Righteous folk were murdered in cowardly fashion. The old maid who was revealing it all [115] was found dead in a ditch. My father, who was a judge, wanted her avenged. One night, he was murdered in his home.

    Three years later, the magus ruled unchallenged. The Saxmen had remained faithful and prudent, and all good men fled to them. My mother died in the midst of this, so I fled to the Saxmen like the others.[2]

    The magus was proud of his own cunning, but Earth would show him that she could allow neither a magus nor idols at the holy seat where she bore Frya. Just as the wild horse shakes its mane after throwing its rider onto the grass, Earth shook her woods and mountains. Rivers were spread over the fields, the seas boiled, mountains spewed up to the clouds and, what they had disgorged, the clouds hurled back down upon Earth. At the beginning of the Harvest month,[3] Earth tilted northward and sank down, lower and lower.[4] By the Wolves’ month, the low marks of Fryasland were covered by the sea. The woods where the images had been were heaved up and ravaged by storm. The following year, in the Hard month, frost came and buried old Fryasland under a sheet of ice. In the Sol month, a storm wind came [116] from the North, pushing forth mountains of ice and stones.

    When spring came, Earth righted herself again. The ice melted away, ebb came, and the woods with the images drifted out to sea. In the Winne month, or Love month, all those who dared to do so returned home.

    I came with a maiden to the burg Liudgarda. How sad it looked! The forests of the Linde regions were mostly gone. Where the Liudgarda had been was the sea — its waves lashing the ring dyke. Ice had destroyed the tower and the buildings lay in jumbled heaps. On the slope of the dyke, I found a stone on which our scribe had carved his name. That, to me, was a sign. The other burgs shared similar fates; in the highlands they were crushed by earth, in the lowlands by water. Only Fryasburg at Texland was found intact, but all the land that had lain northwards was under water and still has not been reclaimed.

    Reportedly, the shores of the Flee Lake now had thirty salt marshes — formed where the woods had been swept away with root and soil. West Fleeland had fifty.

    The canal that had run across the land from the Alderga had been blocked by sand and was [117] lost.

    The steersmen and other sailors who were home had saved themselves together with their close relatives and other kin upon their ships. But the black folk of Lydasburg and Alkmarum had done the same and, as they drifted southwards, they rescued many girls. And, since no one came for them later, they kept them as their wives.

    The people who came back all made their homes within the ring dykes of the burgs because, without, all was mud and swampland. The unstable buildings were repaired. Cows and sheep were purchased from the upper lands and the large buildings that had formerly housed the maidens were now used to make cloth and felt for the sake of survival.

    All this happened 1888 years after Atland sank.

    Notes

    Sandbach 1876


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