The entire story...may be a few typos but I had to get this out TODAY

Devine Swine

Christmas Pig

Yule Hog

Introduction

by Grandpa Martin

In the board spectrum of events surrounding the events celebrated or mentioned in December especially those involving the twenty-fifth, animals have played some very important roles. In the most widely celebrated event, a donkey carried some important personages, cattle lowed, camels came and sheep and lambs were shepherded. In other stories and legends mice went to church, spiders created tinsel and bob tailed nags and other horses pulled sleighs. Also, according to a variety of sources, Reindeer pull Santa, polar bears drink soda and a whole flock of birds are celebrated in song. But aside from the recently developed idea of Hogsmede and a cartoon pig saving the day, the lowly pig is only mentioned as ham or bacon (which IS important and tasty) in the course of these much celebrated days. (Unless, of course, you count the one about a guinea pig saving the day as well) So as far as I know, pigs have been left to wallow in the platters of Christmas meals...That is...until now.

Please enjoy....

The Legend of

The Yule Hog

The Christmas Pig

The Divine Swine

or Whatever

A simple tale as related to me (Grandpa Martin) by Glugh, one of our two family House Trolls.

It all started one night, long ago, when a small group of Troll folk got bored. Now in case you do not know, Trolls can be very mischievous and are actually known to create trouble for humans and others especially when they have nothing better to do. These problems are rarely permanent or horrendously destructive but they are frequently inconvenient, silly, bothersome and usually messy especially when boredom is involved.

The are where they lived held several humble family farms, a small village with a handful of shops and services essential to survival. They were ruled over by a mayor or governor who protected and taxed the people and though was respected he had chosen not to seek the approval or love of 'his' people. He was also a person who had interests in the not to distant seaport from which he had gained a fair amount of wealth which allowed him to have his town and his people. He was neither hated or admired. He was just a fact of life for his people. This man had three sons the oldest of which was often in the big city overseeing his father's business needs. The second son had joined a shipping firm which served the port and was making a name for himself as the second in command of the firm's flagship. This left the youngest son, Espen, to oversee the town when his Father was away, as he frequently was.

Now this is important to the story because Espen's father had banned or forbidden all traditions and beliefs involving Trolls. There would be no putting of butter or porridge out for the Nisse or house trolls, no talk of how Tann-Verk Trollets ruined teeth. NOTHING troll or trollish could be mentioned without a fine of one silver coin so being a poor land where the people struggled to grow and produce enough to feed themselves and the governor and his household, which was many nobody disobeyed.

BUT this was not the biggest problem, Espen's father did not like Yule and only permitted it to indulge Espen and if the people wanted to indulge in it they all had to pay two silver coins for the privilege for which they got their Yule log and a tree from his property. The people were forced to scrimp and save all year even go without so they could enjoy the day. And since father frequently spent the season in the port city it was left to Espen to collect the tax and make sure the celebration did not get out of hand.

It was toward this isolated town the Troll folk crept on what was just two nights before Yule (Jule). As they arrived they noticed almost each house had a pine tree waiting out back to be brought in and decorated the day or evening before Yule. Other trees already hung with treats for the birds and critters that needed help during the long winter months. At least, for a few days, they would be able to fill their bellies and perhaps nests for the days to come. Outside one home, near the edge of the encircling woods, was a large pile of fodder for the larger animals that might dare forage near the village. Perhaps it was even bait to bring in much needed meat for the villagers.

The Troll folk took their time to plot their antics. There were the trees to be taken and piled outside of the town, their were animals who needed tangles and knots placed in their hair or fur to frustrate brushes and combs and windows on which to smear mud. They could even pile snow so that it blocked doors or made barns hard to close or open. Fodder could be scattered and cream skimmed and eaten. It was going to be fun until dawn when they would scamper away into the dark words to seek out more mischief elsewhere.

The sound of voices brought them up short as they began their 'attack'. Humans, they knew, never stayed out this late at night so curiosity overcame boredom and they crept along a 'wall' of rough stacked stones. As they peaked over it they saw two humans, a man and a women, dressed warmly, standing in the shadows looking at each other. The women had tears in her eyes. They trolls crept a little closer.

“But I will take care of it all. You and your family just take the log inside and I will tell father, as I have done before, that everyone paid. If he ever checks the books your family will be marked as paid.”

The woman looked down ashamed. “We cannot repay you now but father promises we will.”

“It has been a difficult year for all. The crops were meager and the animals only fared so so.” replied Espen reaching for her hand.

“If only we could get some Troll help. Can't you do anything to change his mind?” she asked pulling back slightly so his hand missed hers as she added. “You cannot love me. I am the daughter of a swineherd and have no way out. As third son your prospects are already limited. When your Father dies your brother will get all. Do you think he will indulge you as your father has?”

“If it makes him a few more coins he will, but he will also watch the ledger closer than my father.” he said sardonically. “But I will give it all up for you. I would make a fine farmer here or somewhere else. Or maybe I will raise hogs as your family. There is always a good market for their meat.”

“True but this year we've had fewer litters so we had fewer to sell. Our male pig is getting old and very few girls were born this year to any of the dames. Fortunately we now have a fine boar father just bought, cost him three months wages. We hope he will sire more litters than we can use. Still a Nisse would help immensely.”

“If you treat them right a Nissen would help.” he paused then looked her straight in the eye. “Natalie, I love you and nothing else matters. If I could get your family a 'house or barn' troll I would sacrifice everything I have.

“And I do love you,” she admitted readily, “but with no dowry or hope your family will not even glance my way except perhaps to comment on my smell. Even some of your help turn their noses up and move away.”

“Tell me which ones and I will have the flogged.”

Natalie shook her head. “That's not your way. Now get going, you have some butter and porridge to put out. Maybe this time you will win their hearts and they will sweep out of the mountains and save the world.”

Espen chuckled. “I do not think there is a Troll within a hundred miles thanks to my father but I cannot let the Yule Eve pass without keeping that tradition alive. It was my mother's favorite and she told dad that said she was really doing it to feed the mice and other small critters so father indulged her. Most of the time it went mostly uneaten but every so often it all but vanished, Dad always blamed a 'herd of cats' when that happened. Mom always claimed it was a wondering Troll. I do not think either of my brothers will let me continue.”

She reached out and touched his still extended hand. “Until then go and live your memory.”

With a sad smile she then turned and vanished onto the night.

After hearing the word's butter and porridge the always hungry Trolls forgot all about mischief and stealthily followed Espen as he trudged back toward his home on the far northern of the town. They watched, peaking through steamy windows and from hidden shadows inside as Espen checked out three great pots of bubbling porridge that by the smell they knew was honey sweetened. From out of a crock another helper (Espen did not like the word 'servant') over the loud objections and threats voiced by the overseer, spooned out a full platter of creamy butter.

“Your father will have a fit. He let your mother get away with this and he indulges you to avoid conflict but he knows and does not like it! He calls it a waste and this year when he hears how much you wasted, and he WILL hear, he will stop your troll foolishness for sure! Your disregard of...”

My disregard for his animosity brings in enough silver to more than pay for this food and if I add some of my allowance to the pot you should not complain either.” exclaimed Espen cutting the rant off. “Now fetch me those polished stones I purchased while we get this treat for the mice and village cats outside. I have seen them mingle without fear as they eat but this year I just have this feeling that we will have a wondering Troll come by. So get those stones and be quick about it.”

“Yes...sir.” muttered the overseer wishing the father would make a sudden appearance.

It was all the Trolls could do to keep from leaping out of hiding and devouring the sweetly scented treats. Espen had sprinkled the butter with a few spoons of honey as well. But Trolls are nothing if not patient and they waited until the lights of the kitchen darkened. While they waited they were entertained by the overseer yelled and vented over the other workers. When the last candle was blown our it was just past midnight but they waited for several long moments before they approached the feast.

As some tasted the still warm porridge others scooped out a handful of butter. They were so intent on the food that all but one failed to notice the outer door of the pantry begin to open. She gave a loud squawk alerting the others as Espen stepped through the door holding a tray of freshly baked bread.

“Oh please don't run.” he cried as loud as he dared not knowing if they could understand him or not. “I have bread for your butter. Please come back!”

After a long stretch of absolute silence, Espen placed the bread, which now steamed in the chilling air, on a crate outside the door and slowly backed toward the door until he stood just inside the threshold. As he turned to enter he heard a strange sound.

“Man.”

Espen tuned back and took a small step into the outside. To his utmost surprise one of the trolls, standing about a half meter tall, was standing next to the bread. The young man smiled and nodded.

“Trold.” He gave a short bow and reentered the building.

“Tak for food.”

This time it was a chorus of voices. Espen again turned and to his delight and surprise saw at least a half dozen Troll Folk standing in the open. He smiled then made a wide sweeping gesture with his arm.

“You are most welcome.” He then entered his home, closed the door quietly and went to bed.

The next morning, being commonly called Yule Eve by the townsfolk, Espen and his household bustled with urgent energy and preparation. There was now a feast to prepare for late last night a messenger had arrived early with news that Espen's father would arrive by noon with a party of over a dozen friends and family including both of his brothers. Everything the hirelings or workers had planned suddenly lost priority as orders came from the Overseer of the estate. Before Espen said a word the manor Overseer also sent word down to those in the village and their plans too were put in abeyance. Cleaning had to be done in the village according to the very inconvenient and thoughtless decree that went out into the town. Shops had to open to prepare items the manner did not have on hand and of course they had to be cheerfully gifted to the 'Town Master' who provided them with his protection and status. The people were even 'advised' to be on their best, most joyous behavior. Everything had to be in perfect order according to the Overseer and his aides.

For his part, Espen's first act was to go out and look at where he had left the food. He had been told strictly, by his father, that even though he was 'in charge' he was to automatically differ to the Overseer when it came to the 'care and keeping' (as he put it) of the home and the operation thereof especially in special cases. This choice rankled a few of his 'friends' as well as some workers who feared or did not like the Overseer. Some even said Espen should show a more commanding presence but the young man knew that anything he said would be countered or ignored unless it was of little matter to the Overseer. He chose, instead, to say out of the way, to support the Overseer and to do things he felt were important additions to the cause.

His first choice was to clean up the mess that was left by the Trolls. When he got outside and surveyed the area, to his delight there was not a crumb nor dob of bread nor porridge remaining and the butter platter held not one smudge of grease. What was also surprising was the fact that there was no evidence of trampling or even disturbed snow that would indicate the presence of Trolls in any number. Only the prints of cats, mice and a number of larger forest dwellers gave any indication of what might have happened there. Smiling he started to clean up the area.

When the kitchen mistress unexpectedly came out a few minutes later she snorted and muttered something about a waste of good food as she took the things he had gathered from him. She then picked up the remaining containers and took them in to be washed. Espen, feeling a bit chagrined, said nothing but nodded approvingly complimenting her on her efforts as he strode 'purposely' away from the area. Inside he was giddy at the affirmation of what he had seen earlier. It was not a dream.

When he reached the path that lead down to the village he met a group of the household workers who were going in to gather the last minute items that one of the Overseer had thought of. Out of a need to do something, he attached himself as 'leader' of the group and ambled into town.

He had no sooner set foot in the village when his ear caught a familiar voice screaming at the top of her lungs. The tone held a pleading tenor and he immediately recognized an urgency he did not like.

With a cursory excuse Espen trotted toward what sounded like a growing roe.

“You are not taking our hog! Even if you had the courtesy to offer what we paid for it you can not buy it!” Natalie was fit to be tied. Her father and sister were being 'restrained' by two of the villagers in the manor's staff. Nearby another two other staffers clung to a rope attached to 'her prize boar'. The Overseer was standing resolute and Espen was very surprised to actually see him there in person. The short balding man, who fancied himself above all his fellow villagers, stood resolutely in Natalie's yard. Espen knew that there had been no offer to pay and no excuse accepted because this is 'what the master' wanted. A large rust toned boar was being dragged by two of the manor's staff toward a cart parked almost in the family garden. Natalie seemed to be begging him not to take 'this pig'.

Espen sprinted forward and just as he hit the group the Overseer pulled a gun from his belt and aimed it at the boar's head. Without thinking Espen grabbed the arm and shoved it toward the sky as it went off with a near deafening concussion. Before the Overseer could respond Espen's fist slammed into his jaw knocking him flat into the snowy mud.

“We do NOT behave like brigands and scoundrels.” exclaimed Espen taking a stand for perhaps the first time in his life. “ You are, as of this moment, terminated. Remove your belongings from the house before I have you placed in confinement.”

“We will see what your Father has to say about that.” he spat back starting to rise.

Espen almost hit him again but instead stepped very close and growled. “Get out of here.”

The Overseer moved slowly as if he expected to be hit again. As turned and started to walk away he paused after taking only three steps, looked over his shoulder and uttered the word 'come'.

The staff begin to automatically follow.

Without hesitation Espen simple said 'Stay”. A handful of those who had turned to leave continued forward, the rest turned back or remained where they were.

“Now I will demonstrate how it is done.” said Espen firmly. “First, put that hog back. I have no intention of making this the Yule hog for the feasting pleasure of my father. Even if everybody feasted for three days there would be waste from this great animal.”

The two handlers, who had been ineffective in moving the hog now found themselves almost trotting to keep up with the eager swine who somehow sensed that he had been reprieved.

“I am sure that this young lady has a beast much more appropriate in size to fit the needs of this special occasion.” he said in a cheery voice that belied his internal trepidations. “After all the Yule celebration is just that, a celebration of life and nature. We should always pay for what we have so please, fair lady, if you or your father would select a proper pig and ask a fair price we will do business. And while we are at it you who are here, take my pouch and pay for that which was 'purchased' so far along with anything else then return to the manor to continue your skillful preparations. My father, if he is not here already he will be soon and we would not want him to be disappointed in our efforts would we?”

His comment brought a couple of soft chuckles as he tossed his full pouch to the nearest worker. When everyone was gone he turned to Natalie.

“I am so sorry.” he stammered softly.

“You will be punished for that.” she said softly.

“Perhaps, but not today.” he whispered then louder asked: “Do you have a pig, perhaps a bit smaller, that we can buy for my father's feast?”

Natalie nodded and turned away. “Father, will you help these fine folk select a proper pig. Perhaps the speckle with the heavy jowls. I shall negotiate a price with Master Espen.”

Her father chuckled and motioned for the two servants to the follow leading the large reddish skinned boar back to his sty.

When he was out of ear shot she all but collapsed into his arm but managed to catch herself and remain erect.

“I need ten silver or more for the pig.” she forced herself to say.

Espen looked perplexed.

“We have...rather you have got to save yourself. When that man tells your father what you did you will be disowned. You will have nothing.”

This time he managed to take her hand. “Will you still love me when I have nothing?” he asked.

“Nothing will change.” she replied.

After a moment of fidgeting he produced a second smaller pouch and handed her twelve silver coins. “Put one on the post of the pig's sty for the trolls. They really do not need money except to trade with people. Make sure you polish it up before you put it down. The tribute will serve you well. If it is not gone in three days the coin is yours.”

“Because there are no Trolls in the area.”

“Thanks to my father.” concluded Espen. “Make sure that pig slaughtered, cleaned and if you can, please deliver it to the manor kitchen before dusk.”

Fighting tears she nodded.
“Now I have to go face my father. I suggest you get that prize boar away from here.”

The next morning the pig was gone....and so was the coin. ….

….and Natalie had no idea where either had gone.

The third son had been very wrong about not being punished at once. Retribution was swift and the hammer fell almost the moment he returned with the select pig, all butchered and cleaned for the cooks. The Overseer had acted swiftly and with two men to back him up gleefully told the father of all his son's unwarranted attacks and actions since the father was last in the manor. The mini tyrant reported in detail the waste of food to attract trolls and how willfully he put tasks on the humble Overseer so he could flirt with the swineherd's daughter in the village below.

Espen's two brothers did not refrain from showing contempt and cruel humor toward their sibling as their father berated him while stripping him of what little power he had and relegating him to the cleaner of hearth and stove. His duties would only be that of making sure they were cleaned and readied each time they were set. He would start immediately and would eat and rest after all the manor business was completed and the Yule eve festivities were complete.

His oldest brother dubbed him the new ash lad while the middle brother called him 'troll' and pig girl lover. Espen said nothing in his defense acting in obedience to his father's orders to 'not make it worse or less humiliating to him'. Still his heart ached as the Overseer was given his former duties and status. He wanted to protest or run but instead, after he was dismissed, he dutifully went to the kitchen to get his assignment.

The manor had five large fireplaces, three of which were always lit at any given time. There were also two large cooking ovens they alternated between. When he was not cleaning he was commanded to cut and chop wood alongside the woodmen. His special task would be to create the kindling which was usually the task of an apprentice or a child.

As he entered the kitchen area, his ears still burning from his 'thrashing', it was alive as every worker was entrenched in their task of the welcoming and Yule eve feast preparation. Espen had some idea of how things were the night before the Yule but his father had been right about one thing, he had left too much to the Overseer and done to little to become aware of the households real needs. He had done so because that is what his father expected and it did give him time to try and win Natalie.

He looked around for a friendly face but word had traveled fast and no one dare even look at him. Only the long disapproving kitchen head bothered to approach him. She told him that since everything would be kept burning for the guests and the feast. His task was to clean up spills and prevent slips and falls that might slow progress. To do this he had to get down on his knees and use rags to clean and wipe the floor without becoming a hazard himself.

“And,” she concluded, 'the Master does not like waste so whatever is still useable put aside for your trolls or yourself. We can't have waste now, can we?”

Espen looked down and again said nothing. The events of the past few hours stung and were totally unjust. He new that his father and bothers were wrong and more importantly, ignorant. As he silently wondered around the kitchen picking up scraps and wiping up splashes his mind raced and analyzed, not, as most men, with the intent of revenge, but with the intent of building something from his very real and current nothing.

The Welcome Feast went off without a hitch. Trees were decorated, small gifts exchanged and the joyous revelry held. Midnight had past and now the last foot or two of the Yule logs burned in each fireplace, all carefully placed and tended through the night by the new ash lad. If anyone bothered to think of in, no one asked about Espen and under the soot and the worker's clothes no one recognized him. For this he was both saddened and glad. Midnight had passed hours ago and as he closed off the flames and restocked to allow the flames to heat the house for the guests he watched the final touches being done to remove all traces of the mess the party had left. He was actually grateful that all the fires needed to remain burning because it meant that he could eat and rest until dawn when preparation for the Yule day, now being referred to as Christmas in the nearby port and other metro areas. It was this 'new' tradition he had seen growing in America that his father was implementing. To make it easier his father was blending, temporarily, the old 'tried and true with the new Christmas ideas. As he worked and listened in and from the obscurity of his punishment, Espen realized that his father's efforts to purge the trolls and the Nissan was part of the plan. Now Saint Nicolas had come for the half dozen children now residing in the manor. In a few hours the festivities were set to start anew after all had a good nights rest, except, of course, the staff whose own celebrations were going to be done 'later'.

As Espen walked into the kitchen to seek out some of the pig and other trimmings the head of the kitchen and the Overseer were talking. Espen stepped into the shadows and listened.

“I agree.” the kitchen head was saying. “We need another pig for today's festivities.”

“And I know just the one to get. Roust me Master's three strong men and have them meet me out front as fast as they can. We have a boar to fetch.”

The chief chuckled and shuffled toward the servants quarters. She turned, startled, as Espen gasped and sprinted from hiding toward the rear door.

It took Espen less time than ever before to reach the village. All the homes and shops were, as expected all but dark, except, to his surprise, Natalie's. Her home was alive with people holding torches. As he drew nearer the cries of “here pig” or “come pig” could be heard not only around the surrounding homes and shops but out in the nearby fields.

It took several minutes for Espen to find Natalie. She, her father and two closest siblings were half the village away searching the garbage pits for the animal. When she saw him she screamed that their prize pig was gone. She accused him or the Overseer of sneaking back and taking it. He told her what he had heard and when she saw his servile clothes she believed him and leaving the others the pair rushed back to the pig farm just as the three brutish men arrived. Three men who were not from the village itself. Each was armed with a long thin club and the immediately demanded the pig or they would start knocking heads, beginning with the new ash lad.

Espen stepped forward defiantly. “He's not here. He got out. Why do you think we are all out searching for him. Go to sty's and see for yourself if you doubt me.”

One of the men broke from the others and strode back behind the house. Moments later he returned and confirmed the pig was not there. Another of the men accused the village of an elaborate ruse to keep the pig safe.

The leader shook his head “They are too simple for that and they had no way of knowing we were coming. A dozen silver coins to the one who finds the pig and gives him to us.” he shouted then turning to Natalie demanded a drink for them and a place inside to sit and wait.

“Just go away.” Espen growled stepping up to block their way.

The big man raised his arm but Espen ducked under it and hit the man as hard as he could in the side. The blow barely phased him and his arm came back catching the lad in the middle of the back sending him slamming into the mud path.

Espen barely had time to roll over and sit up as the other two men grabbed him and jerked him to his feet.

Suddenly one of the men yelped and grabbing the back of his leg stumbled forward letting go of his captive. The second would have laughed but instead grunted and fell to his knees as they buckled painfully beneath him.

The leader raised his club but shrank back as two meter and a half tall trolls emerged from the shadows. All the humans jaws dropped as one and there were several gasps of “TROLL” as they fell away from the looming and ugly creatures. Only Espen stepped forward bowing slightly toward the pair when he stopped. As he straightened he was taken aback because one of them was the spitting image of the Troll with whom he had talked a few hours ago.

Behind him the ruffian leader raised his club again in with intent to take Espen with him but something stopped the club from coming down. Behind him a third and taller Troll had simply reached out and taken the end of the club and held it in place.

Terrified the three men got up and scrambled off toward the manor.

“Tak for food.” said the familiar looking Troll as he turned back from watching them flee.

“You are most welcome.” replied Espen. “We are in your debt now. Thank YOU!”

The Troll smiled and gave a low chirping whistle like tone.

From somewhere inside the nearby woods they heard a loud grunt followed by what sounded like a cross between a coughing spell and an excited laugh followed by the sound of a large creature tromping through the trees toward them. No one was sure what to do as the large boar 'galloped' out of the dark with two half meter size trolls clinging awkwardly to his bristly hair while having the time of their lives. Even the most terrified and stalwart observers could not stifle a laugh or a smile.

Hearing the commotion the other villagers were soon gathered near the pig farm. Explanations and exaggerations flowed freely as the six Trolls, now quite unhidden, stood close to Espen unsure of what was next. The big pig took the pause as is opportunity to return to his sty and lie down in the mud under his shelter.

“They will be back.' said Natalie breaking the spell. “This time with guns and more men.”

“Men from our village.” said Espen softly.

“But they will follow the orders of your father.” said Natalie's father. “They will not risk their jobs and family comfort for a pig or even you.”

“Nor should we ask them to.” said Espen. “I must take the pig to them. I will save all I can to repay you as fast as I can.”

Before anyone could answer he turned to the Trolls. “You must leave. It is not safe for you to stay.”

“Let them take the pig.” said Natalie. “He is already lost so if they hid him once they can do so again,”

“We can always offer another pig..let them pick what they want if it saves you and our Troll friends.” said Natalie's father.

“But if someone talks in hopes of getting favor with my father.” started Espen.

“You mean 'squeeels' ?” came a voice from the crowd followed by a few snickers.

Espen thought for a moment. Already he could sense his father 'gathering his forces' to march on the village.

“Would you do this? Take and hide the pig again?” asked Natalie. “We...I will make him a gift to see he lives.”

The Troll that talked nodded. “Pig lives. Give Troll folk much more pigs.”

“Then go.” said Espen. “We owe you. Thanks to Trolls.”

Espen glanced at Natalie who was fighting back tears. When he turned back the six Trolls were moving swiftly to collect the large reddish pig and move it out into the dark. The listened to the fading sounds of Trolls and pig until the sounds of the approaching Manor folk filled their ears.

It did not take long to establish the large pig was still gone and the villagers claimed they were going to continue the search in the light. Everybody laughed at the mention of Trolls when Espen told his father that the three had been bested by some of the village lads and must have made up the story to save face and though he and a couple others were cuffed around Espen and the others kept their ranks closed and the Manor folk left with three fine pigs, a basket of fish and ten loaves of bread they had saved for their Yule breakfast. No one fought back but when Espen was told to return he refused and said he quit the manor and the family because of the way they had treated everyone.

Espen watched as his family all turned away and started back toward the manor.

“People of the village.” Espen called out. “Stay here with those you love and quit the manor. We will find a way and the manor cannot keep without you.”

Someone muttered a repeat of those words and then it grew louder and soon a chorus of villagers were pleading with their loved ones to stay.

Suddenly there was a loud crack of thunder followed by a second and a third. The toughs, both embarrassed and angry had turned and fired at the defiant young man at the front of the villagers. In a heartbeat the leader of the ruffians flew straight up into the air as he was seemingly flung far into the darkness. The other two toughs, who had also fired their weapons also disappeared from the group from the manor, their terrified screams fading as they too flew away.

The startled people gazed around stunned as the echo of the gunshot faded into the distance. The silence gave way to gasps and cries of surprise as the flickering flames caught the eyes and forms of three giant four meter tall Trolls still concealed in the rocks and woods of the path to the manor.

Espen lay on the ground bleeding from a wound to his shoulder. Natalie cried out for the village healer who was soon stuffing bandages into the area to stop the bleeding.

Most of those who were from the village broke ranks from Espen's father and rushed to the sides of their friends and family. The bullets had found another mark and Natalie's father lay silent on the ground.

Chagrined and horrified the Father and his two sons stood along with a few of their guests who had chosen to join the 'adventure'. The Overseer and kitchen head stood silently before slipping off into the night never to be seen or heard from in the region again. For many long and agonizing minutes time seemed to stand still. Past, present and future hung in the balance in the depths of the Yule morn that slowly began to enlighten the darkness even though the sun would remain below the horizon for some days to come.

The large trolls faded back into the rocks and shadows but the villagers knew or perhaps just sensed that they were still nearby.

Only Natalie's soft sobs and the clucking of the physiker ordering warm water and more clean rags, broke the silence of the arrival of Yule day.

No one, except Espen, noticed 'the talking troll' slip in from the shadows to where Natalie knelt by her father. Gently he touched the old man's body then shook his head. Espen knew there was nothing that could be done.

The lad became aware of someone kneeling or bending down near by with two others standing behind him. As Espen turned his head he saw his Father's tear streaked face gazing at him and behind him his two older brothers starred at him concern etched on their faces.

“Will he live?” the father managed to choke out after a while.

The physiker grunted. “He is strong and the wound could have been worse.”

Feeling a slight surge of energy Espen turned. “Natalie.... I am so sorry.”

The 'words' Yule or Christmas were all but forgotten that day but with the mourning of Natalie's father and the burial by early afternoon an air or spirit of renewal and forgiveness seemed to settle on the village. Espen, supported by his brothers stood silently next to Natalie while his father hung back behind the villagers as an elder spoke of the hope and rest in the next world.

When the service was over Natalie and Espen went into her home with her family and the village Elder. Espen's family and their guests trudged back to the manor along with a few villagers who chose to support their despondent employer for a time. Outside the villagers decided to pool their resources and prepare a group meal so fires were build, great black pots were filled and inside the bread building loaves were created for the feast.

Inside the swineherd's home a discussion was going on as Espen expressed his sorrow and his love for Natalie and his desire to care for her and her sister. He plead for forgiveness for what his father had caused. The village elder listened and only spoke to declare that Espen was not responsible for the actions of those from the manor which was a big relief to Natalie and his sister. This revelation was followed by several minutes of silence and then a voice came from the shadows.

“Pig will be returned.”

Everyone looked down and the 'talking troll' stood smiling in the flickering light of the candles

Espen shook his head. “No. A bargain is a bargain and the pig must be with the Trolls. We owe the Trolls more than we can repay.”

'Voice' bowed his head. “We had hoped this and now our clans are one.”

“Will you have me as your husband?” Espen turned and gazed at Natalie.

“Yes...”

“Do you love him. Think carefully.” said the Elder

“Be truthful.” said 'Voice'.

Natalie did not hesitate. “Yes!” she cried throwing her arms around Espen. “Yes!”

'Voice' looked at the elder who nodded. Smiling, the Troll stepped back into the shadows and was gone.

The Elder stood and hurried out of the house to spread the word.

Natalie's sister hugged Espen then wrapped herself in a warm coat and headed out. Her parting words were...”The feast is now a wedding feast.”

Espen turned to his betrothed. “We must send a message to my father. He deserves to be here too and make sure all his guests are invited too.”

She nodded and went out to find a messenger.

Espen lay carefully down on the cot. He knew he had been lucky as the ball had only been able to penetrate the shoulder to the bone which had stopped it. It hurt and he knew it might not move the same but he physiker and taken out the ball and the bits of cloth from the wound and liberally bathed it with wine which burned worse than the original wound.

As he settled in and stretched out his legs he heard a rustle and turned his head. 'Voice' stood next to him.

“You and your friends must come to my wedding feast. There will be plenty and our folk must be united.” said the young man.

'Voice' smiled a genuine smile that seemed sad. “It cannot yet be.” he said softly.

“But we must. We can feed and help each other.” said Espen.

“We can, but not all. They are not ready.” 'Voice' paused and handed him a heavy bag. “From the pig. He is most grateful.”

Espen struggled to a sitting position then carefully opened the pouch. It was full of what looked like pig droppings but they were silver, Espen guessed, pure silver. From the weight it felt like enough to pay all taxes and fees for a year and more. Espen was very puzzled, especially since the Troll was speaking like most humans.

“We call him 'Yule Hog' to remind us of when he came to us. He is very smart and will give us a great number of hogs in the future. He is happy about that too.”

“But why this magnificent gift?” asked Espen.

“Time will show.” replied the Troll. “We trolls will be here to help if you promise to share.”

Natalie, who had been listening as she opened the door entered her home. “We can make clothes and share our food and be as friends...no , as family.” she said softly. “My father would have wanted us to be united in some way. It is not your fault evil men took him from us.”

“Your bride is wise.” said 'Voice' as he nodded in her direction and before any more could be said he was into the shadows and gone just as one of the men entered the door.

“The messenger has been dispatched and the people are clamoring for the groom.” he said. “The Elder says he is hungry and wants to say the final words so the celebration can begin.”

“I will be right out but first I must talk to my bride to be.” said Espen with a smile.

The man nodded and went back outside.

When she saw the bag of silver 'pig droppings' Natalie was speechless but they quickly decided to keep enough to buy a few boars and sows to help the herd grow and then give the rest to the elder to distribute. Espen also told her that he would make new arrangements with his family to make sure that all would be treated fairly.

The last thing they did, before joining in the festivities, was to fill six large bowls full of hot honey and butter laced porridge and set them beside a cold picture of milk. A plate of poor man cookies was also placed next to them.

Hours later after a wedding, some negotiations and a Yule/Christmas/Celebratory feast that would be remembered for generations, the new husband and wife went back inside their home. As the checked out the place they had left the treats, they were not surprised to find the dishes completely cleaned off. What did take them by surprise was sitting on the floor was another silver pig turd.

Snip, Snap, Snout... This tales told out!

Final thoughts: So why the weird title? The story is set around 1830 and as I mentioned the Yule boar or pig was almost always synonymous with food. It was reported by Glugh that because of the events in this tale, this small village somewhere in Scandinavia prospered through thick and thin for many years. He also told me that only those influenced by Espen and Natalie know of and celebrate the events reported/revealed in this story. Sadly, he also told me that as the years past the children's children move on and some moved in as spouses or those searching for a home. Modern communications and new customs grew and the beliefs in the old ways gradually faded. Still there were enough who remembered the tale to keep it going in their own homes as they spread through out the world. Over time some have altered the 'title' to suite the area where they lived. Europeans tend to lean toward “Yule Hog”. Those in the USA use “Christmas Pig”. The name or title “Divine Swine” is found among those who, using tongue in cheek, are more secular minded.. The 'or whatever' is me saying..”It does not matter. I just want you to enjoy the story and perhaps add a little pig or boar into your families traditions and who knows..perhaps one day, if you do it right, you may find a chunk of silver that looks strangely like a pig dropping.

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Christmas pig, American custom

Divine swine, alternate name and appearance