Fiddle music wound like ribbons from ahead on the forest path. Liv glanced back for the hundredth time at Torjus, riding behind her pony-cart. Her heart thrilled at how handsome he looked in his fine waistcoat and jacket, breeches, knee stockings and buckled shoes.

A chuckle rose from the pile of cushions beside her. "I declare, Liv," rasped her ninety-year-old grandmother, Gunnhild. "Your eyes sparkle brighter than the sun on your silver crown! Watch out, it's slipping."

Liv straightened the wide-brimmed headpiece, but spared it no more thought in spite of the glittering bangles dancing on all sides. She didn't feel the weight of all that filigree work, her spirits so light and thrumming. Head in a whirl, she didn't recognize her surroundings. "How much further?"

Gunnhild creaked another laugh, patting Liv's knee. "It's not even time for second breakfast. We've a long ride yet to go."

Liv sighed. "Feels like days since we set out. So slow! Makes me want to lash the pony into a gallop."

"And run over the fiddler at the head of the line? What an impression to make on your soon-to-be father-in-law! Hoof prints and tire tracks across poor Jon's back. Look. We're coming to Homme farm now."

Farm owners Sveinung and Åsne joined the bridal procession with glad greetings. Liv grinned back. She'd been just a child when she'd seen such delight and anticipation on Sveinung's face, that day when it had been her cousin's turn to wear the crown. Now the anticipation belonged to her and Torjus.

When Sveinung and Åsne moved on, their sons Halvor and Tarald flung handfuls of barley at Liv, up on her pony-cart perch, then ran away giggling while old Gunnhild sputtered and brushed herself off. "Rogues and rapscallions!"

"It's fine, Grandmother," Liv said, laughing. "That much less grain to pelt me at the proper time."

"Who were those little monsters?"

"Tarald Sveinungsson, same age as Åmund—"

"Åmund who?"

"My little brother, Grandmother!"

"Oh ja, him." Gunnhild nodded as the cart bounced along the trail.

"And his big brother Halvor. They were in and out of Moen all winter, remember? Taking lessons with Åmund."

"What lessons?"

"It was our turn to host the roving teacher—" Liv began.

"That funny-talking fellow with the spectacles who kept inviting himself to our meals?"

"We gave him room and board in exchange for teaching the boys to read."

"They're much too young for all that bother, aren't they?" Gunnhild crossed her arms.

"Åmund and Tarald are eight, Halvor is twelve, and Parliament says they must learn to read. It's required for confirmation now, remember?"

"I got confirmed without being able to read, and so did you."

Liv cradled her new hymnbook. "Ja, but I can read just fine now, after sitting in on the boys' lessons. I can write, too." She smiled bright as sunshine, remembering one particular birch tree sporting letters she'd carved into the bark: TORJUS and LIV.

Soon never to part. If only Brunkeberg church would come into sight!

to be continued...

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BEHIND THE SCENES

We don't have a wedding date for Liv and Torjus, but their first child was born in 1745. Torjus' age is an estimate since his birthdate is not recorded, but his younger brother Olav was born in 1719.

We have no death date for grandmother Gunnhild.

Parts of the Old Testament were translated into Old Norse in the 13th century. In the 1500's and 1600's several translations came out in Danish, since Norway was under Danish rule. In the late 1800's arose a nationalistic movement to modify spelling to match actual pronunciation, and the first truly Norwegian Bible was produced. Liv would have been reading and writing Danish, if she indeed participated in the newly mandated education.

Today, there are two official written forms of Norwegian in Norway: Bokmål, which still bears a heavy Danish flavor, and Nynorsk, which tries to more closely approximate the dialects unique to Norway. Problem is, there are many, many local variations of dialect!

Today's Norwegian Bible is titled: Bibelen – Den Hellige Skrift: "The Bible – The Holy Scriptures."

It was traditional for a bride to carry her hymnbook on her way to her wedding.