Runestone (49 page)

Another thought came to him as he helped to gather the ears, pull the husks back, and tie them together to hang in bundles. How was ownership established?

Calling Dove looked at him in amazement at such a question. “It belongs to the People!”

“You mean, everyone?”

“Of course. Everyone eats, no?”

And everyone plants
, he thought. This was a strange idea, that of community property. He turned it over in his head for a little while.

“Who decides its use?” he asked finally.

Again, Dove studied his face as if such a question were unheard of.

“The women, of course.”

The
women?
He had been with the People for nearly a year, and was only now learning some things about their ways. The absence of the idea of property was completely foreign to him. But surely … Yes, there
was
a recognition of personal property. Weapons, clothing, such things. But the food supply belonged to all. So did the lodges, he realized, though each person or family owned a certain area. Maybe “owned” was not the right word. The rules of ownership were quite specific, he now decided, and actually quite strict. When applied to the few items of personal ownership, the rules of ownership were totally inviolable.

“Then why,” he asked Dove, “is it so important to separate the different plots?”

Again, she looked at him as if the question made no sense.

“To keep them apart.”

“But both belong to all!”

“Yes,” Dove said cautiously, “but that has nothing to do with it!”

“Wait … then why keep the fields separate?” he demanded.

“Because they are
different*”

“Different?”

“Yes. I have told you, Wolf, this for meal, this for hominy. …”

They stared at each other for a moment, in complete lack of understanding.

“Their
spirits
are different. They must not be allowed to be together,” she went on.

Slowly, he began to grasp the idea. He was no farmer, but he knew that among livestock it was good to keep bloodlines pure. Could it be the same with plants? He could think of no comparable instance at home. Of course, here was the strange situation with the corn, when the flower and the fruit are at different places on the plant. Was that a part of it?

“How long has it been so?” he asked.

Dove shrugged. “Always, maybe. The People planted corn after they came out of the ground.”

He decided that he must ask Odin about this. It was a thing so completely foreign to him that he was lost in trying to understand it. For reasons still unclear to him, it was necessary to keep the various types of corn from mixing. He could recall nothing similar in the grains familiar to Europe and the Isles. Had he simply overlooked it? Wheat, oats, and barley were quite similar in appearance, though there was nothing like this crop with its huge ears and large hard kernels.

In fact, now that he thought of it, almost none of the crop plants grown here were remotely similar to those at home. Beans, squash, the great golden pumpkins …
There
was an oddity! The largest vegetable he had ever seen. Some were so big that it would be hard to encircle one in a man’s arms. And they grew not in the ground like a turnip, or in a leafy head like cabbages, but on a
vine
. Even to a man not familiar with farming, it was apparent that there was much more here than he had imagined. Primitive though the Skraelings might be in some respects, there was a vast amount of special knowledge and skill involved. Yes, he would speak with Odin about it, when an opportunity offered. Maybe, when it was time to return home, he could take seeds of some of these crops. As a curiosity, at least, corn, beans, and pumpkins.

In the process of the harvest, Nils also noticed that the colors of the corn became important. There was a ceremonial significance, apparently, a religious meaning in the fact that some types were white, some red, some yellow. This was not
exactly the same as the
use
of the different types. Ah, well, no matter …

All of the crops were gathered now, except for a few pumpkins still in the fields. There began to be discussion about what the People should do now, and where they should winter. Almost immediately, the People split into two factions. Those who had spent more time on the improvement of their shelters wished to winter here, where they were. The others, who had assumed that they would travel on before cold weather, argued to move immediately, so that suitable winter lodges could be constructed elsewhere. Arguments became heated.

“The People have seldom moved very far,” Odin explained to the Norsemen. ‘The towns have been where they were, longer than anyone’s lifetime.’

Only now did the magnitude of this move begin to make itself felt to Nils. For the People, it was bigger than a lifetime. It was no wonder that it was causing argument and divisiveness. Especially since the People were unused to long-range planning anyway. Their easy, day-to-day style, governed only by the seasons or the availability of game, did not lend itself well to planning decisions.

Finally a council was called. There were many who spoke, telling and retelling their arguments. It was long and boring to the Norsemen. It seemed that the discussion would never end.

At last, however, a tentative agreement was reached. The headmen and holy men from the three towns would meet in discussion and prayerful consideration. After the appropriate ceremonies and spells, a course of action would be recommended. It was much like the decision earlier about when and where to plant. There was one important difference, from the standpoint of the Norsemen. White Wolf was formally invited to be a part of the meeting of this inner council.

“It is good,” Odin told him. “You were being tested, last spring. Now the crop is good. Your power has been shown.”

“But what do I do?” Nils asked.

Odin shrugged. “Nothing much, maybe. Look wise, nod sometimes. I will help you. First tell Big Tree that you need your assistants. At least, me … That is good, to help you
understand what is being said. I can speak for you, if it is needed. Yes, this is good.”

   The inner council was quite informal, slow-paced, and deliberate. The pipe was passed, discussion ensued, and opinions were exchanged. Nils was startled when finally Big Tree turned to him suddenly.

“How are your thoughts on this, White Wolf?”

Nils gulped, then paused a moment to collect his thoughts.

“My brothers,” he said slowly, “I am still an outsider. I do not know your weather, as I did not know your crops.”

“Do you wish to do your ceremonies?” asked Big Tree.

“If the People wish it,” Nils answered. “But I am made to think the answer would be the same. My gifts are powerful, but not as great as those of these other holy men in decisions of the People.”

“It is good!” whispered Odin in Nordic. “Offer again to ask your guides.”

“Still,” Nils continued, “I would ask the advice of my guides if this council wishes.”

“White Wolf,” one of the holy men from the other bands spoke, “I am told that your ceremony changes the color of a stone.”

It was a question, of a sort. Probably, it was based on curiosity.

“That is true,” said Nils.

“Yet we have not seen it happen,” the other said thoughtfully. “In the spring, your ceremony? …”

The question was left hanging, an open challenge now. This man was questioning the validity of the powers of White Wolf. He must be faced.

“My brother,” Nils began, but Odin interrupted angrily.

“Wait! You have no right—”

“Stop!” The booming voice of Big Tree broke in. “Cat Skin, I have seen the powers of this holy man. I have seen the stone change. White Wolf will show you his gifts at the right time. This is not the time. You should know better than to ask another holy man to prove his powers!”

There was a heavy silence, finally broken by Odin, who spoke directly to Cat Skin.

“White Wolf will show you when the time is right, Uncle.”

The disgruntled holy man merely nodded. Nils hoped that he had not made an enemy here, though he did not see what he could have done to avoid this confrontation.

Eventually, the decision was made to winter where the People were now camped. There was a scurry of activity, to build protection against the onslaught of winter.

It was only as they waited expectantly for Cold Maker to attack that Nils realized something. In all of the discussion, the choice had been considered that of staying here or moving on. There had not even been a mention of going back toward Straumfjord. Even staying here seemed to take them farther from the return journey home.

T
here seemed to be little organization among the People, once the decision had been made to winter where they now camped. It was understandable. The major responsibility for the year, the growing and harvesting of the grain, was behind them. There would be some hunting, maybe a fall hunt, but with the grain safe and the pumpkins and beans ready for storage, there seemed no urgency. Always before, for several generations, the People had merely readied the big communal lodges for the winter. They were already built, ready to move into when Cold Maker came roaring down. Now few people seemed to notice that there was no such refuge.

There was, of course, a scurry of activity to improve the flimsy family dwellings of brush and skins. It was apparent to some, however, that this would not be sufficient protection. Odin, who had seen more of the world than others of the

People, was quite concerned over this lack of foresight. He attempted to initiate the construction of more substantial shelter.

“But we are not to stay here,” a man protested. “It is useless to build a town.”

This was, admittedly, a valid point. The construction of the massive earth-lodges, sheltering as many as fifty people of an extended family group, was a major undertaking. It required heavy digging and moving of earth, not to mention the felling of sizable trees for the central posts and roof beams. This was not to be the answer, Odin realized. The problem, as he finally identified it, was that the People had no ready alternative. In his methodical way of thinking, a problem must have a solution. Hence, an alternative shelter of some sort, to be used for a season.

He considered the dwellings of the Downstream Enemy, which were adequate. Not as good as the lodges of the People. They had a tendency to be cold and drafty. Not as warm, even, as the structures built by the Norsemen at Straumfjord.

The thought had come to him unexpectedly as he pondered the situation. Now it had ail his attention. There were things about that construction that he could not quite remember. … Four posts, at the corners rather than the center. More along the long walls. … Most importantly, these were structures that the colonists had built for exactly the same purpose that the People needed now: shelter for the winter. The Norse were building more permanent dwellings now, but the big longhouses had housed the entire colony at first. He must speak with Thorsson.

“I am not sure,” Nils mused in answer to the question. “I am not a builder of lodges, you know.”

“But you have lived in them.”

“Yes. I see the need for this, Odin. Let us ask Fire Man.”

Between the three of them, they began to piece together the general idea for a longhouse. It would be above the ground, to avoid the heavy digging. A row of posts to form each side wall, poles for the peaked roof. There would be an almost solid wall of poles, tied in place to form the sides and the flat slope of the roof. The cracks would be chinked together with dry grass and plastered outside with mud.

“The walls would be of stone in a place where we would stay longer,” Nils commented.

Odin nodded. “I am made to think we can do this, Thorsson.”

Svenson’s battle-ax now came into a more peaceful use, that of felling and trimming trees for poles. Others of the extended family lodge watched for a little while, and then began to join in the construction. The longhouse rose quickly. Big Tree came to observe, and in another day or two another structure was rising a few paces away. The people working on this one were the relatives of the headman and his family.

People from the other towns came, saw, and started their own shelters for the winter. There need not be so many lodges, or so large as the permanent earth-lodges. These were for one winter, it was already understood.

Odin had some concern about the project. Not about the longhouse shelters. That was working well. His concern was twofold. First, that this construction might prove too successful, leading some to avoid the building of proper lodges later.

His other concern was about the two Norsemen who were now part of the People. He had seen the doubt in the face of Thorsson, now White Wolf, his sister’s husband. Not doubt about the winter shelters, but about the original move. He, Odin, had deliberately been quite vague about the long-range goals of the People. He had implied in talking to the Norsemen that it was likely that the People would move back to a place near the coast in a year or two. That, he knew, was unlikely. He must, without seeming to do so, try to bring the outsiders into the ways of the People so completely that they would not
want
to go back.