Fehu: A Tale of Cattle

Britta's family owns the most valuable treasure in all the village, but often times men forget where true wealth lies.

Ula came to the Thorstein family as a gift.

They said a beautiful woman, wearing a necklace made of stars, had come to their household one day and requested shelter for the night. In exchange, she had offered her hosts a cow named Ula.

Ula looked like any ordinary cow, but the woman told them that it was actually very special: when this cow was slaughtered and eaten, if all her bones were collected and buried in one place, she would be whole again by the next morning. The family accepted the gift, if a little skeptically.

Despite their doubts, they followed the woman’s instructions and buried Ula’s bones together after they had slaughtered her. The next morning, they found the cow standing and chewing grass as if nothing had happened.

With this magic animal, the Thorstein family was able to drink fresh milk every morning and feast on tender meat every evening. Generations passed, and Ula continued to nourish them. The family did not know scarcity or uncertainty.

This was how Britta grew up. She had never gone hungry, never wondered if her household’s food stores would last through the winter. She cared for Ula, as she did for every animal on the Thorstein family farm. Ula was special though, in more ways than one. Britta knew that Ula would be there no matter how many days or years passed, unaffected by illness or, well, slaughter. She spent many days milking the cow, sitting with her and bringing her treats to keep her happy. Ula’s milk seemed sweeter, and her meat more tender when the cow was kept happy.

One day Britta walked to the stable, as she did often, to where Ula had been buried the night before. This day, however, the cow was not there.

Dread filled Britta. She dug up the earth and found that Ula’s bones were missing. Britta ran to the house to tell her parents. She found her mother inside, standing at the dinner table. Laid out before her were several bags, some of them open and spilling their contents visibly: golden coins. Britta delivered the terrible news to her mother as the latter counted the coins from one bag.   

“Yes,” her mother replied without looking up. “We sold Ula earlier today.” Britta was horrified, but her mother told her not to fret. “Now you shall have fine dresses and jewelry, and we have enough money to buy as much food as we need without going through all that trouble of slaughtering the cow and burying the bones all the time.”

This did not fully ease Britta’s concern, but she said no more.

Over the next weeks, Britta’s parents brought home beautiful tapestries, clothes and ornaments. Everywhere you looked in the house, something glittered. Their wooden utensils were replaced with silver and gold. Their itchy clothes became silky smooth. Sweet perfume wafted through halls instead of the smell of cattle drifting in through windows. For a while, they basked in their wealth.

Then the rains came. It rained for weeks, without reprieve. Crops failed.

“We have our cattle,” Britta’s mother dismissed their worries. “Plenty of meat to store.”

But the cattle began to die off. A sickness took them, spreading rapidly. They were forced to slaughter their animals and use whatever meat they could before they all succumbed to disease.

“We will buy what we need,” said Britta’s mother.

There was nothing to buy, however. Their whole village had suffered these misfortunes. No one had anything to offer; the only thing to do was to brace themselves and hope they survived until better fortune came.

Except Britta knew there was another solution. She waited until her family was asleep one evening, and she set to work. She gathered as many of the fancy items and clothes in the household as she could fit into two saddlebags, which she mounted on their one surviving horse. She climbed onto it and rode off in the dead of night.

Britta had to travel far, but eventually she found the merchant that had bought Ula. Upon meeting her, the man regarded her indifferently.

“This cow is rightfully mine,” he said. “I would not part with her for the few trinkets which you offer.”

Britta begged. “Please, I’d offer more if I had.” She saw Ula looking back at her, and had an idea: “Let Ula decide.”

She explained that if Ula chose to go with her, she would give the merchant all her possessions, even the horse she had ridden to meet him, in exchange. If Ula chose him, then he could keep the cow and the possessions she’d brought as well.

The man could not resist such an offer.

“But,” Britta said. “We have to find a space where Ula can choose without distractions. I see many bilberry bushes nearby, which are her favorite treat and they may entice her one way. We need a clear field.”

The merchant agreed happily, for he believed Britta had just shown him the key to winning this contest. He led the way toward a nearby field, but not before slipping a handful of bilberries into his pocket when he thought the girl wasn’t looking.

Britta hid a smile. The merchant’s greed had been plain on his face, and Britta had known just what he would do when she mentioned the berries. She did not call him out on his actions, nor did she say anything else as she followed him to the clearing where Ula would choose a master.

The merchant and Britta stood on opposite ends of the field; Ula was placed halfway between them. Then it was up to the cow to join one of them.

“Come ’ere,” the merchant called, smiling confidently. Ula took a few tentative steps toward him. His smile widened. Ula’s nostrils flared as she sniffed the air. “Come now,” he coaxed.

Ula took one more step in his direction, then snorted and shook her head. She turned around and started walking toward Britta.

It was Britta’s turn to smile. “Come now, Ula,” she spoke gently to the cow. Ula quickened her step, ignoring the merchant’s increasingly angry calls. She reached Britta within minutes, licking her face affectionately. “I’ve missed you too,” Britta said as she stroked the cow’s neck. “Let’s go home.”

Before taking her leave, Britta remarked, “Oh, actually, I can’t quite recall now. Ula either loves bilberries, or, really, really hates them.” She shrugged. “No matter. We did well to leave them behind either way.”

The sight of the enraged merchant’s red face was the last thing Britta saw before she started her journey home.

After Britta returned with Ula, the Thorsteins’ home no longer glittered with silver and gold. Its halls did not smell of perfume, and there were no tapestries decorating the walls. But their stomachs were full. In fact, now that they had Ula, the Thorsteins were able to provide food for the rest of their village to get through the difficult season as well.

Never again did the family consider selling their most valuable possession, and any additional wealth they gained was used to make sure that Ula was happy. Best of all, the villagers agreed to burn every bilberry bush in the village.

Eventually bilberries were banned entirely from the village: in gratitude to the magic cow to which they owned their lives.

Author's Note

First story in a collection of tales based on the lore of the nordic Rune alphabet.

Reviews

[Miss Fedelm]

A great story. Well written.

[Fefibela]

Thank you!