The Greenlanders (44 page)

On the day after this, a messenger arrived from Gardar, carrying news for Osmund Thordarson from Sira Jon, but he was not much surprised to discover the fate of Osmund, he said, for such an outcome had been speculated about at Gardar. It was said that a farmer who had a place at Dyrnes would take over two abandoned farms not far from Solar Fell and become lawspeaker. And the other gossip was that the vomiting ill had struck hard at Hvalsey Fjord, where some twenty were dead, and in the southern part of Vatna Hverfi, and around Herjolfsnes. Six had died at Gardar and thirty survived. And Gudrunn counted up the dead they had heard of in Brattahlid and Isafjord, and this came to about twenty-five. Gudrunn said, “There will be others in the lonelier steadings that we will hear of after Easter.” But indeed, this was little the case, and the greatest death occurred at the largest farms, in the most thickly populated districts. After the messenger had spoken to Gudrunn, Margret took him aside and asked about Gunnar and Birgitta, who lived at Lavrans Stead in Hvalsey Fjord, but the boy had not heard their names among the names of the dead. “What then,” she said, “of this name, Olaf Finnbogason?” and the boy said this was not the name of one of the dead. Of Vatna Hverfi, he rattled on. He told her that Sira Nikolaus, of Undir Hofdi church, had been taken, as well as his “wife.” And folk estimated that he was a hundred years old. At least this was true, that when they carried him out, he was as shriveled as a child.

Not the least curse of this general sickness was that it took place so early in the winter, and folk and beasts had to endure many weeks of snow and storming before the coming of spring. Many who were weakened died, and beasts on many farms went hungry for too long too early in the season for them to survive, and so this was a bad winter, with deaths and bouts of hunger stretching past Easter. At Hvalsey Fjord, Orm Guttormsson was among the dead, and Astrid Gunnarsdottir and Maria Gunnarsdottir, one in the morning of the mass of St. Stephen and the other in that evening, and after their corpuses had been wrapped and set into a snowbank, Birgitta came to Gunnar and told him of the sight she had seen these many months before, of all of the children vanishing before her eyes as they were gathering seaweed beside the water. And she said, “It may be that I am being punished for my pride, for I was much taken with Gunnhild’s beauty, and Astrid’s lightheartedness and Maria’s fondness for me, so that now I am afraid to look upon the others, and I seek ways to humble my pride in them and avert this punishment.”

Gunnar asked if she had spoken to anyone of this sight, especially to Sira Pall Hallvardsson, and Birgitta said that she had not, that she had feared to talk of it. And Gunnar said, “Surely the priest can give you a penance, or some prayers to say.”

“But,” said Birgitta, “when I saw this disappearance I had Johanna within me, and it happened that she jumped with glee that I should see it, and therefore it seems that she carries ill luck with her, and spreads it like a contagion, though not suffering from it herself.”

“And it gives you little love for her, that is plain to see.”

“It seems to me that she will live and they will die, just as she, of all of them, has not become ill in this sickness, and she goes about to all the bedclosets and looks in upon them with a curious and unwearying eye.”

But Gunnar would not admit that this sickness was any different than any other spell of the vomiting ill had been, where many live and some die and no man can say ahead of time which way it will go for him. Even so, Birgitta would not be freed of her notion that Johanna was an uncanny child, and she avoided her when she could.

Now it happened that the spring came on, and Sira Jon sent out messengers to every district with the news that he would hold an Easter mass and a feast at Gardar, to celebrate the Resurrection of the Lord and the resurrection of all the souls of the dead into heavenly life, for, the messenger declared, Sira Jon often spoke to the folk at Gardar, and declared that God had much in store for those who suffered among the wastes of the earth, and toiled there for His glory.

There was a woman at Gardar named Olof, who was the daughter of Anna Jonsdottir, who had been in charge of the housekeeping at the steading, and Olof, although she was but twenty winters old or so when Anna herself died in the first year of Bjorn Einarsson’s coming, had taken over her mother’s position and now had the care of Sira Jon and Sira Audun, and the cleaning of the bishop’s chamber, which she carried out with great pains every three days or so, under Sira Jon’s orders, in anticipation of the new bishop. Sira Jon himself had moved into a tiny, dark chamber, much unlike his former room, and all of the furniture in this room consisted of some furs and lengths of wadmal and a small lamp, and this place was only large enough for him to stand up and lie down in, and he seemed to Olof to like it very much, for he spent a great deal of time there.

Sira Jon often fell into a state which the folk at Gardar referred to as “out of sorts,” and when he was in this condition he was especially alert to every sound and every trick of the light, and he looked at his servants as if searching through them. In these times, only Olof could approach him, and also in these times, he would go to his tiny chamber and come out again somewhat relieved. He would be especially impatient with his steward, a man about his age, whose name was Petur, and rage at him no matter what the news was; whether two cows had calved handsomely or whether seventeen lambs and goats had died, Jon took both sorts of news with equal anger. And so it came about that the servants at Gardar watched their master with even more vigilance than is usual among servants, and the great topic of conversation every morning and every evening was how Sira Jon seemed to be. Sira Audun often arranged his trips to other districts suddenly, when the general opinion was that Sira Jon was out of sorts. Folk considered that the two priests were not friends, although not yet enemies.

During the sickness it was the case that most people at Gardar fell ill, but some did not. Sira Jon did not, and Sira Audun did, although he recovered, and Petur the steward did not, and Olof did, and when this happened, Sira Jon went one day to where Petur was standing among the sheep, and he berated Petur. “Indeed,” he said, “you are beset with devils and abandoned by the Lord, and therefore it is you, Petur, who should die and take up your abode in Hell.” And then he declared, “It has come to me in a dream that the beasts of the field and the fjord are going to rise up and conquer, and you will be trampled by horses, then gored by cows, then trod upon by scores of sheep, and crushed in the embrace of a walrus, then carried to the depths of the sea by a whale, but even after all of these things are done, there will still be a stone of evil in you, and so you will be carried off to the icy wastes and left there.” And Petur, although a strong man, was somewhat frightened by this speech, and began to walk away from his master, which enraged Sira Jon even further, so that his voice, which had been low, and directed to Petur alone, now rose, and all nearby could hear it, and another man, an old servingman, led the priest away. Someone went to find Sira Audun, and though the door to his chamber was closed, he did not answer a knock, and could not be found. When Olof got up from her sickbed, Sira Jon improved, and he gave Petur some sheepskins. It was this miracle, the recovery of Olof, that prompted Sira Jon to celebrate Easter with a feast.

Sira Jon was much delighted with the coming occasion, and seemed hardly out of sorts at all. He especially enjoyed going among the storage chests and taking out the handsome silks and wallhangings, and adorning the altar and the walls of the cathedral with them. For his own wear he took out two separate suits of vestments, one white, shot with gold thread, for the early mass, and one gold with scarlet borders for the later mass. These articles had been carefully kept, and so were in good condition except for one or two small rents where the cloth had worn away. After the vestments, he went among all the altar furniture that had ever been gathered, and found the very best pieces, without dents or missing bits, and he cleaned these himself, with fine, pure sand brought in some years before especially for the purpose. After that he went to the kitchen house and among the storehouses, and he looked upon all of the stored food and ancient vessels of wine, and he brought out vats of honey, and wine from the time of Bishop Arni.

As the time grew closer, it seemed that he even wanted to look in upon the rooms where the guests would be staying, and watch the servingwomen beat out the reindeer skins and sweep down the floors. But as Good Friday drew on, Sira Jon seemed to Olof to grow more and more out of sorts, so that the servingfolk were afraid of his coming, and Petur the steward would not go into his presence. Now Olof went to Sira Audun’s chamber and beat upon the door so that he could not ignore her, and after some while of this beating and calling, he opened the door and let her in. And Olof told Sira Audun what she wished to do to assure good masses and a pleasant feast, but she said that she could not do this thing by herself, for Sira Jon was her master and she was a servant and a woman to boot. Sira Audun was greatly reluctant, and Olof sat with him for almost an entire morning, and would not leave his room, although he ordered her to. This was on the morning of Good Friday. At last, because of duties that Sira Audun needed to perform, he agreed with Olof, and she went away.

That night, Olof carried an especially rich dinner to Sira Jon in his room, with many kinds of food and in greater quantity than he could eat, and then she went out, closing the door, as usual. Sira Audun then barred the door so that the other priest could not open it, and Sira Jon stayed in there, sometimes crying out and sometimes silent, until dawn on Easter morning. When they let him out, he was not out of sorts at all. So it was that all the folk who came to Gardar for the feast were much pleased with Sira Jon, and remarked at how calm he seemed, and even Sira Pall Hallvardsson was happy with the other priest’s demeanor.

It happened that many folk carried with them the best gifts that they could afford, and placed them on the altar in front of the finger bone of St. Olaf as a thank-offering for bringing them through the winter. Thorkel Gellison gave a stool, carved from olive wood from Jerusalem, that his great-grandfather had carried from Ireland, where it had come from the crusades, and this stool had many fantastic beasts carved upon it in the Eastern manner. Thorkel was pleased to have survived the winter with his wife.

Snaebjorn Bjarnarson of Herjolfsnes and his two sons who had not died made the gift of a French ivory folding altar, which men of their family had always carried with them on sea journeys, and which had afforded them great good luck. These men gave thanks for the survival of their children, eleven in all, though Siggtryg and two of the wives had died.

Magnus Arnason could not bring his gift inside the church, for it was a large and handsome roan stallion, some five winters old and well broke to both drawing and riding, the best of Magnus’ fine group of horses, and one of the best of the offspring of Thorkel Gellison’s old gray stallion. Magnus gave thanks for the life of his concubine and his other servants as well, for his skraeling-born wife had died many years before.

Bjorn Bollason, the new lawspeaker, gave a chair for the priest to sit in during the mass, and carved along the back of this chair, which was made from driftwood gathered over a number of seasons, were an eagle and a bear, for St. Jon and St. Kolumban. This was the most magnificent gift, as was appropriate, and many folk pressed in to get a look at it.

Vigdis of Gunnars Stead and Ketils Stead gave a soapstone bowl, shaped and carved with twelve figures holding hands, and these were the twelve apostles. There had once been a face in the bottom of the bowl, the face of Jesus, but Vigdis had this face smoothed away because she declared that it was a sin to cover such a face with sourmilk or broth. This bowl had been among the furniture at Ketils Stead for as long as anyone knew, and its origin and maker were lost.

Ragnleif and his uncle’s wife, Gudrunn Jonsdottir, gave a gift together, and this was a pair of walrus tusks that Osmund Thordarson had owned for many years, since the last time a party of men went to the Northsetur, and also these two announced that it was their fixed intention to wed each other at the following Yule, and while some folk disapproved of the haste with which they went about their courtship, others said that the time of courteous formalities was past for Greenlanders, and that a woman and a large steading should not be without a strong farmer for the summer’s work.

Gunnar Asgeirsson and Birgitta Lavransdottir made a gift of a length of red silk, sewn into a priest’s cope. Folk saw that much elaborate stitching concealed where the lengths had been pieced out.

Other gifts, of wadmal and weaving and furs and sealskins, were plentiful as well, and many were given by unknown folk, in the dark of the night, and among these was a lovely carved olive wood cup wrapped in a woven blue and white border. And after Margret Asgeirsdottir placed these with the other things, she owned nothing more that had once belonged to Skuli Gudmundsson.

After the giving of the gifts, Sira Jon conducted the first mass, with Sira Audun assisting him, and Sira Audun spoke the following prayer:

Lord, we lie in our turf houses
,
As in graves covered with snow
,
And our prayers rise to you as loudly
As the voices of the dead
.

Lord, You break the ice for us
,
And call forth the green grass
,
And so we rise out of our houses
And come forth singing
.

But folk did not consider this prayer as good as others of Sira Audun’s, and only a few praised it.

Now at this feast, the great topic of talk besides the sickness and the harsh winter was Bjorn Einarsson, and folk recalled how he had acted and the belongings he had brought with him, and the articles of dress Solveig had worn about in every sort of weather. Folk who were interested in ships and boats, as the Hvalsey Fjord folk were, recalled the trim lines and fine carving of his four ships. Folk from Vatna Hverfi recalled the expert way that he had chosen for himself the very best horses in the district. Thord of Siglufjord recalled the types of food he had sent during the hunger of 1388—only wholesome and delicate and tasty items, nothing from the back of the storehouse. Gardar folk recalled his tales of Rome and Jerusalem and France and Iceland, and the way that Einar always stood by to correct and add to these tales. Sira Audun recalled some jokes that Bjorn had made while settling his dispute with the Alptafjorders about where they should worship, and others were led to recall Kollbein Sigurdsson, and his wooden-headed manner of doing the same thing, so that everyone felt cheated when Kollbein was through, and everyone felt benefited when Bjorn was through. Those who had not known Bjorn, or had seen him only from afar, related to their neighbors what they had heard about him. This became a topic of controversy, whether Bjorn in his four ships had carried as many goods to Greenland as Thorleif had in his one ship, and there was great disagreement about this. The result of this was that at the end of the evening, it seemed to folk that visitors such as Bjorn were too good to be true, and some doubted in their minds that he and his ships and his tales had ever really been among them, or declared that he couldn’t have been a man, but must have been a ghost or an angel or a devil sent to try or to bless the Greenlanders, and as they went back to their booths and chambers, folk recalled other uncanny things, both those that they had not seen and those that they had seen.