Part 17 (1/2)
”Even so, your mind will change, no matter how I feel about it, for you have always sought to thwart me.”
”Nay, my Kollgrim, I have sought to make my way about you with as little disturbance as possible. When you are less overwrought, you will think better of these things.”
”Why is it that my sister's marriage plans must become the topic of general talk before I hear of them?”
”Were you present at the Thing when the offer was made? Have I seen you since then? You do not bang down the door to our steading with your habitual visits.”
”Men laughed at my ignorance and shamed me.”
”That is the occupation of the Greenlanders, to laugh at one another and then fight about it.”
”My sister is well suited to my steading, and she is happy there.”
”Nevertheless, if I receive a suitable offer, I will do as I am accustomed to do, and ask her what her wishes are.” At this they went back to their meat, and there was ill feeling between them, but it was not so apparent to the rest of the hunters.
Now the autumn drew on, and folk went about their work, and although affairs between Kollgrim and Helga were not as pleasant as they had been, they were able to speak to one another with courtesy, at least in front of the servingfolk. One day sometime after the first snowfall, when the snow was hard and crusty on the ground, Helga discovered that she was missing a pair of fine sheep from the fold, and she feared that they had been lost. As Kollgrim was away, snaring ptarmigan, she took Elisabet Thorolfsdottir, of whom she was very fond, and went on skis up into the hills. It was a bright day, cold and still, and Helga was pleased with the change from the inside of the steading, which was close and smoky from the burning of lamps. It seemed to her also that Elisabet Thorolfsdottir was of a mild but melancholy disposition, and much in need of strengthening, and she wished to speak to her, and elicit her replies. Nowhere was there any sign of the sheep, and Helga began to fear that they had been stolen, and to regret it, for they were fine ewes, large and healthy. After they had been searching for a while, Helga stopped and took out her food sack, and spread her cloak upon the snow. The sun on the snow was warm and bright, and she sat in her gown and shawl. Elisabet set out the food between them, and began to chat of the weaving pattern she had been busy with the day before. ”It seems to me that it will never come out right,” she said, ”for no matter how diligently I count, I find extra threads waiting for me at the end of the throw. Even so, my mother's sister in Hvalsey Fjord has a gown of the stuff, and it hangs very full. When she dons it, she looks rich and imposing, even though the dye stuffs they use there are dull as can be, all browns and dirty greens. I wonder that she has eyes in her head.” She let out a large sigh and picked up her trencher of dried reindeer meat.
Helga said, ”It would please me to find a good red somewhere about, but Gunnars Stead folk have never worn red. My mother says that such things are for Brattahlid folk, who care little who sees them going about their business.”
”There were some folk in Hvalsey Fjord who had a nice blue color, but it was almost not worth their trouble, for it took so much extra work. Folk said they got it from sea sh.e.l.ls. Still, sometimes I long for a nice blue. Such a color goes well with fair hair such as yours and mine.”
Now Helga said, ”Do you think of other folk in other places, who wear bright clothing every day? I think of my sister Gunnhild, who went off with Bjorn Einarsson and his foster son Einar. The dress they gave her for her departure was as yellow as b.u.t.tercups.”
”Why should folk in other places have brighter clothing than Greenlanders? I have not heard of this before. Do you think that she wears it every day?”
”Sometimes she wears purple, sometimes green, sometimes blue the color of the day sky, sometimes blue the color of the night sky, sometimes red or yellow or gold, and sometimes her robe is full of all of these colors at once. That is how she appears to me in dreams.”
”Such things are said about Our Lady.”
Now Helga picked up her meat, full of thoughts of Gunnhild, and she was so engaged with them that she failed to notice the approach of some other skiers, until they were right beside her. She caught her breath suddenly in surprise, and she knew that the presence behind her was Jon Andres Erlendsson a moment before she looked up at him.
He said, ”It pleases me little to see you take your rest upon the hillside, here, and for this reason-folk say that Ofeig has come among us.”
”We are seeking after sheep that are lost from our fold,” said Helga.
”You will not find them among the hills,” said Jon Andres. Helga saw that he carried weapons, a short ax, a crossbow, and a small knife. Two of his men had clubs and one had another ax. When she looked at him, she saw, with relief, that he was disinclined to look at her. His cheeks above his beard were red from the glare off the snow. She put her palms to her own cheeks. She said, ”Ofeig Thorkelsson was in the southern part of the district.”
”He is no longer there, though he has left tokens of his stay.” And he spoke in such a dark tone, that Helga was not a little afraid to ask what these might be. Jon Andres looked at her. She said, ”Tokens?”
”The corpus of Arnkel Thorgrimsson, lying upon the corpus of his wife Alfdis, in an obscene posture, for that is Ofeig's pleasure, not only to kill, but to desecrate, as well.” His eyes held hers, until she could no longer look at him, and in spite of her fear and confusion about Ofeig, she saw the shape and color of his eyes so clearly that later she could not put them out of her thoughts. He lifted her to her feet, and shook out her cloak for her, and then the men went with her to Gunnars Stead, and Jon Andres spoke to the servingmen, and left one of his own men there, to stay until Kollgrim should return.
It was the case with Kollgrim that he went out with his weapons, on skis or in his boat, and each day it seemed to him that he should go farther, for he was the sort of man of whom it is said that he is led by the eyes, not the wits. So it was that he never told Helga when to expect his return, for he himself knew not when to expect it. Now it happened that he went on his skis here and there about Einars Fjord, in the hills that rise above Gardar, where men have no steadings. He snared many ptarmigan, and carried them in a large leather sack. He was much distracted by thoughts of Helga as the wife of his enemy, and these thoughts lured evil to him, for as he was making his way along a bluff above Eriks Fjord, he slipped, and in preserving himself from a long fall, he lost his sack with all of his prizes. Much custom of skiing made him nimble enough not to lose his footing, but indeed, the slope was a steep one, and Kollgrim saw the sack break as it rolled down, and birds spun and flew outward, as if still alive. ”Now,” he said aloud, ”news of this event would ill please my mother, it seems to me, for she would see in it an omen of what is to be lost, and so it appears to me, as well.” Now he made his way along the top of the bluff, and toward dusk, he skied down into the dale that formed the northern district of the bishop's holdings at Gardar, and he stayed that night in a sheepherders hut there.
The next day was bright and filled with suns.h.i.+ne, and so Kollgrim donned his dark hood, with only slits for sight, to protect from snow blindness, and he made his way on skis across Eriks Fjord. It seemed to him that he would find more birds more quickly in the hills between Eriks Fjord and Isafjord, and make the longer trek worth the trouble. Men had already made tracks between the Gardar peninsula and the Solar Fell landing, and he skied in them.
It happened that there was a witness to his approach to Solar Fell, and this was Sigrid Bjornsdottir. Although his face was covered with his snow hood, Sigrid knew his figure, and went to her chest, and donned the hood of foxskins that she had made for herself. After that, she went to the storehouse and chose the choicest morsels of food that she could find, and she laid them in a silver plate. Now she went out again, and looked down upon the fjord, and saw that he was getting closer, and she stood silently, awaiting his coming. She saw that he looked about, and then that he looked up, so that his gaze must fall upon her, but in his movement and in his posture, nothing was registered of shock or interest. He only kept coming onward. Now Sigrid turned to the steading, and carried the plate inside. A servingwoman was standing beside the fire, and Sigrid said to her, ”There is a man coming across the fjord. He will be looking for refreshment. He may regale himself with these bits, if you don your cloak and take them to him.” And she went to her bedcloset and lay there in her cloak and hood.
It is the case that Solar Fell lies in a less foggy district than other parts of Greenland, and for this reason is named after the sun. The land there has a southern slope and a friendly aspect, and the steading has always been desirable. It seemed so to Kollgrim as he approached it on his skis. Sheep decorated the hillsides, and their thin cries made welcome music in the crystalline air. Now it seemed to Kollgrim that he was voraciously hungry, for he had had nothing to sup upon after losing his sack of game, and even as he was thinking of this, he saw a woman pa.s.s the little shrine to St. Olaf the Greenlander, and begin to descend to the strand. He followed the ski tracks until he met her, and, as if she were an angel, she carried a dazzling silver plate, and upon the plate were such bites of ewe cheese, and stewed meat, and roast meat with b.u.t.ter, and goat cheese as men are not often allowed in the fallen world, or so it seemed to Kollgrim. And this, too, appeared to him as a sign, and so he said only that the giver of these gifts must be thanked, and he went into his pocket and he pulled forth a walrus tooth that had been carved to look as a whale looks, rounded and slick, and he set it upon the plate, and turned his skis and went on. Four days later, he returned to Vatna Hverfi district and found one of Jon Andres Erlendsson's men fixed at Gunnars Stead. This was the case with Ofeig, that men did not see him, but saw the evidence of his presence, from Yule, through Lent, and into the spring. Some folk, hearing of his work with Arnkel, sought to propitiate him by leaving out such articles as they could spare-some shoes or woven stockings or a hood to distract him from the sheep byre. Other folk sat alert, day and night, watching over their steadings and waiting for his coming. Still other folk said this, that he would come for them or not, such a thing was in the hands of the Lord, and it ill behooved men to antic.i.p.ate the ways of the Lord. He was the tallest man in Greenland, it was said, and as round as two men. His feet were reputed to be so large that he could walk across crusty snow without breaking through, but with all his size, he was a light-footed fellow, and could enter a steading or leave it without the sleeping folk knowing of it. He was not to be seen, although some men looked for him diligently. This was taken as a manifestation of Ofeig Thorkelsson's devilish nature, and some folk, mindful of the words of Larus the Prophet, declared that the folk on the s.h.i.+p that would soon arrive would see Ofeig without the cover of invisibility that hid him from other folk, and they would rid the Greenlanders of his burden. Larus, himself, however, spoke nothing about Ofeig, neither at Yule, nor through Lent, when he went about to various farms on skis and related what he had learned in the autumn from St. Olaf the Norwegian, who, as all men know, was a renowned warrior, and fought a man who resisted Christ and dealt him his death blow with a great crucifix, although the man carried a sword and an ax.
Toward Easter, the spring came on early, and the winds off the glacier started up, and soon the ice in the fjords broke into pieces and was blown out into the ocean, and at Easter, Bjorn Bollason declared that he had accepted a betrothal offer from Ari Snaebjornsson of Herjolfsnes, for a marriage between Sigrid and Ari's eldest son, Njal, with this provision, that the couple would have a large farm in the north, to be given them by Hoskuld, Bjorn's foster father, and they would live at this steading for part of each year, and they would have enough servingfolk to do the work on both steadings. And at this news, Sigrid swooned away at her place beside the table, and when she was revived, she lost herself in a flood of weeping.
Bjorn said, ”It is the case, right enough, that Njal is but a boy, some fourteen winters old, but he is well grown, already half a head taller than the bride. The Herjolfsnes folk are said to fill out late, but indeed, they are st.u.r.dy men.” But as he said this, he looked about the gathering as if disconcerted. Now Signy, his wife, went to Sigrid, and commanded that she stop weeping, for such a course showed that she had not been married soon enough, and fixed her, Signy, in her resolution to see that the marriage should take place as soon as possible. But indeed, Sigrid could not stop weeping or laughing, and no amount of shaking or remonstrance would remove the fit from her. She was carried into her bedcloset and left there to find herself, and later in the evening, she began letting out terrible screams, as if being pinched by red hot pincers, or bitten by devils. Bjorn Bollason was much distraught, and refused the advice of both Signy and Hoskuld that the maiden must be beaten into silence.
Now the time for sleeping came on, and Margret Asgeirsdottir donned her sleeping gown and went to the bedcloset that she usually shared with Sigrid, where Sigrid had fallen into croaking moans, and she climbed into the bedcloset and took the girl onto her lap. She said, ”My Sigrid, I will tell you a tale now, if you quiet yourself, and if you make up your mind to listen to hard words, although you are not in the practice of hearing them.”
”I have heard hard words tonight, have I not?” said Sigrid.
”None harder than other girls hear. Perhaps less hard, for your father has made it his purpose to satisfy your wish to be near Solar Fell.” Sigrid lay silently. Margret went on, ”This tale that I have to tell takes place in the time of King Sverri, for folk in Greenland were very prosperous then, and thought nothing of getting whatever fine things they wished for from Norway or Iceland or England or even France. Bits of lace and a pattern or two from France were not unknown at that time, and the folk at Herjolfsnes always had what there was to be had, for they are great seafarers, and a good folk to live among. The fortunes of the Greenlanders are not always the same as the fortunes of Herjolfsnes folk, and that is the truth. Anyway, at the time of this tale, there was a young girl in the Vatna Hverfi district, who was without a mother, for her mother had died in birth with the girl's brother. This girl's name was Marta, let us say, and she was much accustomed to having things her own way. She had the raising of her brother all to herself, for her father was not much interested in the boy. It was her pleasure to watch this child, and draw his gaze to herself, and then arouse his smile, and this pleasure never ceased for her, nor grew empty, not when he was a baby nor when he was a child, nor when he was a young man. Folk in the district declared that he was the loveliest child that they had ever known, and folk often say this, but it seemed to Marta that they meant it in the case of this child, who was named Gudmund. Another pleasure that she had, from her earliest years, was in feeling the weight of this child on her back, for she would carry him about in a sling, out into the hills, or up along the fjord. It so happened that the child spent so much time with Marta that he was disinclined to go among the men of the farm, and do the work he was born to do, for no Greenlander has ever been so prosperous that he was able to give over working his steading with his own hands. But this Gudmund was a great disappointment, for he detested any kind of work, and cared only to be with Marta. He was a great disappointment to everyone but Marta herself, for her longing to be with him, to listen to his prattle and feed him and draw his smile to her face never was still, and never was satisfied. He grew into a handsome wastrel, not unkind or unloving, but worthless. Even so, Marta doted upon him, and so did their old nurse, who died about this time.
”Now it happened that the father died, and through some mischance, part of the farm was lost-not the best part but the most gratifying part, the part that set the steading apart from the steadings of the neighbors, and formed the pride of the farmers there for many generations. Now Gudmund was the master of the farm, but he had little skill and less interest in the place, and the only way the work got done was through a foster son, a low fellow who was especially dear, but also especially repugnant to Marta. His name was Odd. He had lived upon the farm for many years, and always it had been the case that when Odd came into a room, Marta felt the wish to go out of the room. This repugnance was something that Marta prayed over and castigated herself for daily, for it had only to do with low, physical things, and the priests tell us that these things are like the clothes we put on for the duration of our lives, and when we lie down in death, we will take them off again, and all our souls will be indistinguishable. This truth was what Marta made herself ponder when Odd was in the room, but it had little effect, for he seemed to fill the s.p.a.ce with his odors and breathings, and she seemed to herself to be choking.
”Now one day Gudmund got up out of his bed, and donned his clothing, and announced that he was going to the Thing, for that was the duty of men. And when he went off in his old boat, with his father's booth, he gave Marta a smile of such dazzling love and care that she saw herself and him living quietly on their steading, poor as it was, for the rest of their lives, and such a thing seemed enough, seemed to fill her completely. But the case was that he returned from the Thing with the news that he was betrothed, that the wedding would take place in the autumn.
”Now it seemed to Marta that she was filled with a vapor, such a smoke as folk have in their steadings toward the end of winter, that is the accretion of all the fires that have been made over the winter, and all the food that has been cooked, and all the breaths that have been taken. This vapor filled her and surrounded her, so that it fogged her thoughts and slowed her actions, and separated her from Gudmund, and it seemed to her that the last thing she had seen clearly was that departing smile, as transparent as the water in some of the high tarns above Solar Fell. Now the autumn came on, and Gudmund went to be married, and returned to Vatna Hverfi district with a woman who was but a child, little and thin, and without skills, but withal very opinionated and clear sighted, and Marta did not tell the girl that she must go into her husband's bedcloset as his wife, but kept the girl in ignorance, and slept with her in her own bedcloset, and also during the day used up the girl's time with this task and that, so that the husband and wife had little talk with each other. But this was true also, that Gudmund was much confused by his new responsibilities, and only Odd kept the farm going, and one day when Odd was called away, Marta saw that they would all die. On that day when Odd was called away, Marta went out into the hills to look for plants, as she always did, and she fell down in sleep and had a little dream, and the dream was of two things, that is, that a great polar bear skin was lying across her and preventing her from breathing, but at the same time, she was being fed delicious morsels of reindeer meat, and also the sweetest bilberries. And this dream meant that it was for her to marry Odd, and keep him on the farm, so that Gudmund might live as he wished, for it was Marta's only desire that Gudmund would have things as he wished them. A few days later, when it seemed that Odd might come back if Marta would agree to marry him, then Marta agreed without an eyeblink, and her intention was to save Gudmund, but also to hurt him. And so she and Odd were married. It was the case that they lived without disagreement for a number of years.
”Now it happened that a s.h.i.+p came from Norway, carrying some men who were sent by the king, Sverri that was, to take care of royal business in Greenland, and on this s.h.i.+p was a man who had been in Greenland before, and who had befriended Marta's father, and this was the first thing that recommended him to her. His name was Sigurd. Sigurd looked not at all like a Greenlander, for he wore bright clothing, and walked about as if he wished to, rather than because he had work to do. About all of his actions and ways there was something added, something that was given away without thought. Greenlanders considered him careless, for Greenlanders are a very conserving folk, who stick tightly to what they have, whether words or sheep or turves about the steadings. Nevertheless, he was a popular man, and soon got into the habit of making visits all about most of the districts, and he was welcome wherever he came. He came often to Marta's steading, and when he was there, Marta felt this vapor go out of her, and drift away from her, and she determined not to think of anything at all except how to be near him, and to talk with him, and to draw his smile to her, as she had once drawn Gudmund's smile to her, and her will was met and matched by his, and they fell into sin without remorse. The short result of these things was that Gudmund and Odd did as they must have done, and killed Sigurd where he stood weaponless, and the long result of this was that Marta was bereft of her Gudmund for the rest of her life.
”Now these are the hard words that I must say to you: The Lord in Heaven lays out His punishments in a great array for women who follow their own will. If they will themselves to marry in deceit, then their punishment is always to be smothered and crushed by the presence of the unloved husband, whose every innocent action seems monstrous and repellent, who cannot sit at his meat without bringing vomit into the wife's mouth, or, worse, bitter reproaches. And swallowing back the one is not less difficult than swallowing back the other. If, however, women will themselves to have whom they desire in their weakness, the punishment is even greater, for everything is lost-the lover, the comforts of the family, the issue of the union, if there be one, and the woman is rubbed down to a stone, and is certain of eternal d.a.m.nation in addition to this. Thus it is that I say to you, Sigrid, that you must have no desires and no will, for they cannot go against the desires of the Lord. The grief that lies in the heart is never emptied out, but is always fresh and bitter, and the very sights that once called forth joy turn upon themselves and then call forth torment.”
Now Sigrid lay silent for a long time, but Margret saw that she was awake, although from the other bedclosets came the snores and shufflings of sleep. After a long while, she said in a croak, ”It seems to me that I must have him.”
Margret smiled, and said, ”It is not a bad thing. The Herjolfsnes folk are said to be-”
”Not this child from Herjolfsnes, but Kollgrim Gunnarsson.”
”Is it the case that you heard nothing that I have told you?”
”But the flaw in your story is this, that Sigurd came too late. If Marta had married him instead of this low fellow, there would have been no punishments.”
”Nay, it is the will itself that leads a woman into sin.”
”Nay, it is not, it is that men and women work their will without thought or plan.” And it seemed to Margret that this was spoken from the mouth of Bjorn Bollason himself. And she took Sigrid in her arms, and lay with her until she slept, but Margret did not sleep.
It happened that when Kollgrim had returned to Gunnars Stead and found one of Jon Andres Erlendsson's men sitting at his table and eating up the game he had caught, he was extremely wrathful, and he sent him off with dire threats. Early in the spring, Jon Andres Erlendsson himself came to Gunnars Stead, and he came on foot and without arms, wearing only a thin gown and no hood, so that it would appear that he had nowhere to conceal even the smallest knife. And Jon Andres boldly walked up to Kollgrim, without waiting to be beckoned, and he said, ”Kollgrim Gunnarsson, you may wish to kill me, and for this you may have good enough reason, or you may not. It seems to me that mischief is not always unprovoked, and when our case was argued at the Thing, other men agreed with me.”
Kollgrim stared at the other man, and then said, ”So you made them think, for you have a trick of speaking, just as now you have a trick of looking helpless, but not being so.”
”Indeed, you are a skilled man with weapons, and you have some axes at hand. I will neither run, nor lift my arm against you.”
”Why do you tease me and provoke me in this fas.h.i.+on?”
”Such is not my intention.” Jon Andres Erlendsson spoke mildly.
”Then speak your intention out as a man should and be gone from this steading.”
”It is my intention that the history of enmity that lies between these two steadings be broken up as the ice in the fjord is broken up in the spring, and blown out to sea. I give it to you to decide how this shall come to pa.s.s.”
”Nay, indeed, this is the greatest trick of all, for soon enough you will ask again for the hand of my sister, and she will be stolen from me.”
”Indeed, that is my plan for the Thing a.s.sembly this year, I will not deceive you in this. But men may not look to their sisters to keep house for them all their lives. Is it not better for a sister to marry around the hill than to go off to another district?”