The Greenlanders (56 page)

Folk in Isafjord were not inclined to blame Eyvind for this mishap, but blamed Freydis herself for her melancholy and her high temper, both of which she was well known for. Some blamed the hunger, which maddened folk, or made fools of them. There was an old servingman at another Isafjord farm who had gone out not many days before and lost his way between the byre and the steading, a matter of some twenty paces, so that he had turned round and round and finally fallen in the snow insensible. And another Isafjord man had come upon his wife and beaten her, and his two children as well, so that they had nearly died. Folk in Isafjord were inclined to say that life in Isafjord was harder and more merciless than life elsewhere, and this seemed to Margret to be true. Even so, Eyvind greatly blamed himself, and had many spells of wild grief after the deaths of his daughters. Margret and Finna sat over their spinning and weaving, and each knew that the other was expecting the worst. The food from Gardar lasted through Easter, and then the grass greened, the lambs were born, and there was ewe’s milk to drink.

Death had laid a heavy hand upon every district. Babies were stillborn, mothers died with their infants at the breast, grandfathers went to their beds and failed to rise again, folk wandered away in search of food, and their families were too weak to go after them. Weakened servants lost their footing, fell, and were unable to rise again. Fires went out, and the effort to make them anew or go to the neighbors for more was beyond folk’s strength, so they froze to death with food on the table, or more likely, gorged themselves with what they had as the cold overtook them. Around Easter, Sira Audun went from church to church with Eindridi and the boy Andres, and he said prayers of thanks, but in this year, no one rejoiced as they had after the last hunger, or after the vomiting ill. No sign had come to redeem the sign of the deer, or the sign of Petur’s dream, Petur the Steward, God’s Provisioner. The talk was all of how the following winter would be worse, not better.

Even so, there were those who, through witchcraft, perhaps, had not seemed to go without, but had seemed even to grow fat through the winter, as if feeding on the flesh of others. The most prominent of these was Vigdis of Gunnars Stead, whose gross flesh had diminished not one whit while her neighbors all dropped dead about her. Instead she waxed, red-cheeked and glossy-haired. Was not this suspicious as well, that her hair lay on her seventy-year-old head as dark as it had ever been? In addition, she had grown hard and changeable. Some days she would pet and tease Jon Andres with banter and affection, so that he could not dodge her, and he would go off with his friends to be away from her. Other days she would begin by stripping the bedclothes off the boy and then beating and cuffing him about the head and then serving him offal for his morning meat, and on these days she would follow him about with accusations and scolding, accusing him of hiding her belongings, or stealing them, or of killing the livestock or of feeding poison to the hunting dogs, or of breaking into her stores and giving them away. When she threw bedclothes out of his bedcloset, she always shouted after the servingwomen, demanding to know where he was hiding them. Nor could she remember things as she once had, but called her servants by other names, and even Jon Andres “Erlend,” although he looked not at all as Erlend had looked, even in youth.

In this way, men knew that evil had come into Vigdis. More neighbors than one recalled what a gossip she had been. She was prideful and vain of her looks and her clothing. She had been covetous of Gunnars Stead, and had instigated Erlend into tricking Gunnar out of his farm. She had grieved little for her sons, and of her nursling, Ketil the Unlucky, she had even said, gazing upon his corpus, “Here is some trouble that won’t worry us now.” It is a fact that such sins as these attract demons, as rotting meat attracts dogs. Such were the tales that went around the neighborhood concerning Vigdis Markusdottir. Jon Andres removed to Ketils Stead with some of the younger servants, and Ofeig and Mar and the others of this band of men that had thrown Kollgrim Gunnarsson into the sea were always there with him.

Now it came time for the spring seal hunt, and this year, Gunnar Asgeirsson went along, and Kollgrim Gunnarsson did not, for the case was that the boy still had spells of insensibility and confusion from his dip into the icy water. When all the Greenlanders were gathered at Herjolfsnes and waiting for the seals to appear, Gunnar named witnesses and brought his case against Jon Andres Erlendsson, Ofeig Thorkelsson, and Mar Marsson in accordance with the proper procedures, and as the three young men were nearby, and all of the witnesses from both Hvalsey Fjord and Vatna Hverfi district, Jon Andres had to admit that he had been duly summoned. It turned out that one of Gunnar’s allies against the three men was Thorkel Gellison, Ofeig’s own father, and there was much talk about this.

After the summoning, men sat at Herjolfsnes for three days, awaiting the seals, and not a few grew discouraged, remembering the failure of the seals the previous year. But on the third day, the seals came as usual, perhaps not quite so numerous, but numerous enough. The men set off in their boats, and went among the pods of quarry, but indeed, though there were seals, they seemed enchanted, so elusive were they. They seemed to look upon the hunters with men’s eyes, as if these seals, coming late, were not the usual seals of the spring, but were the souls of drowned men come to wreak their vengeance on the living. At any rate, the seals would not be driven upon the shore, and those few that were raced back to the water, eluding every kind of weapon. Spears thrust into their throats turned and slid harmlessly off their backs. Clubs brought down upon their heads bounced off the ice. Arrows went above them, or into the ice in front of them. The most able hunters, like Finn Thormodsson, had the same luck as the least experienced. And the seals swam fast, faster than a man in a boat could row, so that the men were exhausted and weakened at the end of each day, and the main body of seals was farther and farther away from them. The hunt lasted until they reached Kambstead Fjord, and then could go on no longer. The hunters had not the strength. In addition to this, three boats were smashed and lost, and countless spears and arrows. Two men were drowned when they tried to spear a seal from their boat.

It was also the case that Ofeig Thorkelsson kept his boat near Gunnar’s and Finn’s boat, and gazed upon them with a glowering eye, and in addition threatened them with his weapons in a peculiar way, making as if to aim his arrows at them, or the blows of his spear at their boat, when he could maneuver himself close enough. He was also full of taunts and curses, and these did not diminish when others were around, even when Thorkel was around, although they were directed only at Gunnar. On the first evening, when Ofeig would not go off, Gunnar called to him that he was prejudicing the case against himself by trying to provoke further conflict, but Ofeig was not silenced, and so Gunnar attempted to ignore him. The next day, Gunnar had Magnus Arnason, Ofeig’s foster father, speak to Jon Andres Erlendsson, but if Jon Andres in turn made any attempt to control his friend, nothing was the result. Ofeig’s taunts continued unabated. Now Thorkel himself went to his son, and was so angered by Ofeig’s behavior that the two came to blows. Thorkel was a vigorous man for his age, but indeed, he was more than twice the age of Ofeig, and where Thorkel was wiry and not very tall, Ofeig was both tall and fat, but round and hard with big fists and frightening strength. Now Thorkel came at him with his hand raised, as a father comes at a child and chastises him, and Ofeig seemed not to know who was before him, but attacked his father as if attacking his bitterest enemy, pushing him down and kicking him and stomping him. And when Thorkel got to his feet, Ofeig lowered his head and ran at the older man, so that those standing around saw that Ofeig would not stop at killing his father. Four or five men now attacked Ofeig and held him, and he was so big and strong that this was no simple task. Thorkel was carried off senseless, but it turned out later that he had suffered no real injuries besides having his nose broken. Ofeig seemed not to know what he had done or who it was he had been fighting, but continued to rail against Gunnar Asgeirsson and interfere with his hunting. Now a few of the farmers considered that this spell Ofeig seemed to be under came from the enchanted seals, although there was no hint that he had eaten more of their meat than other men. A few others of the farmers declared that the charm went the contrary way, that the enmity of Gunnar and Jon Andres had driven off the wholesome seals and attracted these enchanted ones. When the hunt came to the islands at the mouth of Einars Fjord, Ofeig and his friends departed, but things were ruined anyway. With low spirits, men divided up the little meat that was obtained and returned to their steadings to wait for the Thing.

Now in this year, with provisions so low, and so much farm work lying upon the hands of those left to do it, there was some grumbling that the Thing had been moved back to Brattahlid, for Gardar was more centrally located, and easier for those from the south to get to. For this reason, the assembly was very poorly attended, and lasted only three days, instead of four. In addition to this, more than half of the judges from the southern districts had either died in the winter or were unable to attend, and there was continuous discussion about whether any cases decided would be legal. One case came up, the case of the Isafjord man who had beaten his wife and children, and this was decided by men from Dyrnes, Isafjord, and Brattahlid. After this case, not a few grumbled that they might as well have stayed home and decided the case amongst themselves. But in the midst of all this grumbling, Bjorn Bollason the lawspeaker walked forth among the booths, and greeted everyone, and asked how they did, and what was happening in their districts. He had many small discussions, and folk began recalling how he had gotten to the stores at Gardar, and saved the Greenlanders from starvation, and it was recalled that after all, Bjorn Bollason had had good reasons for moving the Thing back to Brattahlid, to the ancient fields of Erik the Red. And at the end of that day, which was the second, Bjorn Bollason established a new type of judge, to be known as an at-large judge, and to be appointed by the lawspeaker to sit in on cases when judges failed to come to the Thing, and these new judges were to be appointed from among the most prosperous farmers at the Thing who did not have cases pending, and they were to remain judges-at-large until they should have cases before the Thing, which would disqualify them for that year and two years after that. And even though most of the farmers had never heard of such a procedure, Sira Isleif reassured those who came to him that this was a legal procedure, considering the straits that the Greenlanders now found themselves in. And so Bjorn Bollason appointed six more judges, and they were all Brattahlid men, for Brattahlid men were the most prosperous in the absence of men from the south.

On the third day, Gunnar brought his case before these new judges. He called witnesses and described how his son Kollgrim, of some twenty winters of age now, and an able hunter, had been rendered periodically unsound of mind through a malicious trick played upon him by these three men, to wit, Jon Andres Erlendsson of Gunnars Stead in Vatna Hverfi district, Ofeig Thorkelsson of Hestur Stead in Vatna Hverfi district, and Mar Marsson of Vatna Stead, in the same district. And he told how these men had come upon his son where he was sitting beside his dogs, and had torn his clothing and tied him so as to render him incapable of helping himself, and then forced him into a boat and rowed out a ways into the western ocean, where they had thrown him in. And this had been at the end of the autumn seal hunt, not long before the ice comes up from the south, and so the water had been cold enough to render him insensible within a very short time, and since then he had suffered many spells of insensibility and foolishness, although these were fewer now than they had been.

Could the boy feed himself, the judges said, could he dress himself, and speak as usual, and do farm work and hunt. Yes, Gunnar answered, he could do all these things most of the time, but even so, he was unlike himself. He needed repeated instructions. His mind wandered, although more on some days than on others. Where was he? the judges asked. In Hvalsey Fjord, said Gunnar. And the judges conferred among themselves, asking why Gunnar had left the boy at home if his injuries were the subject of the case. Finally, they asked, what sentence against the three perpetrators did Gunnar wish to receive? Lesser outlawry, said Gunnar, for the law states that greater outlawry is not an appropriate punishment for such a transgression.

Now it was Jon Andres’ turn to defend himself, and folk spoke together in low tones about Erlend Ketilsson, his father, who had been very fond of bringing cases before the Thing, and who had known many of the laws that even the lawspeaker had nearly forgotten. Jon Andres strode into the circle where men were accustomed to speak of their cases and looked about at the judges and at the other Greenlanders. He had Erlend’s dark coloring, but the open countenance of Vigdis, or even more, to those who remembered her, of Thordis, Vigdis’ daughter. He was by far the best-looking of the Erlendssons, a sign, folk said to each other, that the cross between the ill-tempered ram and the imperious ewe had not been such a big mistake. He was as tall as Gunnar, who was among the tallest of the Greenlanders, but broader, and by contrast not so angular or stiff seeming. The eyes of the judges, and of the farmers standing around, fell upon him with pleasure, for indeed, it was the case that these were northerners, men not so familiar with the mischief Jon Andres, Ofeig, and their friends had done about Vatna Hverfi district in the past few years. Jon Andres smiled, and his smile was sudden and bright, like the smile of a young child. It came and went, and it had this effect, that folk wished to see it again. Gunnar was a well-known man, well known at least for his ill luck, and not uncharming in his leisurely way, but it was the case that eyes and thoughts that had drifted off to other things while he was talking now turned alertly to the young man in the circle, and stayed there. Gunnar saw this even before Jon Andres began talking. And the six new judges, at least, were inexperienced enough to gaze upon the pleader, where older and wiser men would not do this, but would look away most of the time, and only listen closely to the words. Now Gunnar looked at Bjorn Bollason, and saw that Bjorn Bollason was impressed by the young man, and indeed, there was something about the one that was like the other. Gunnar smiled. It was easy to see that the case would not go as he wished.