"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 sunshine, 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 ship 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 ship 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 ship 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 fashion?"

"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?"

"She is well fed here, and has plenty of work to keep her out of trouble."

"This may be, and yet I will not stint my effort to remove her from you. We may be friends even so. A wife's brother does as well in a fight as a brother, and you and I have no brothers."

"What fights could the two of us share in?"

"It is not unknown to you that Ofeig is about."

Kollgrim's face darkened. Jon Andres went on, "It seems to me that the tangle of injuries between us is so snarled that every word does damage, whether or not damage is intended. But even so, I am persuaded now that Ofeig means to do ill in the district, and he is more than one man in his strength and cunning."

"Folk in other districts say he is a devil among us."

"Folk have often said that there is a devil in him. But he may be hunted down as bears are hunted down."

Kollgrim smiled. "Bears are no longer hunted down, are they? So far have the Greenlanders fallen that their bearskin bedclothes are rat-eaten and thin. I have never killed a bear, although my father's uncle killed many."

"But we may kill this bear, if we put off our animosity."

"You are too sanguine about both, it seems to me, but I will not kill you today, as you are unarmed." And Kollgrim turned away and went into the steading, and it was the case that he did put off his feud with the other man, although it was with a taste of great bitterness in his mouth that he did so. And during the spring, the men of Vatna Hverfi looked about the district for Ofeig. It appeared that he had stayed for some time in the priest's house at Undir Hofdi church and left that place in disarray, but no men saw him there. Jon Andres hesitated to kill him before he was outlawed at the Thing. Jon Andres had no meetings with Helga, but through the spring when Kollgrim went off hunting or snaring birds, two of Jon Andres' armed men went to live at Gunnars Stead, and they were rough but polite, and helped around the steading with the lambing and the early spring manure spreading. Now the time for the Thing came on.

This was the summer of 1406, as men reckoned with their stick calendars, and of all of these, that of Finnleif Gudleifsson was the most accurate, and so men remarked among themselves that it had been eight years since the great hunger, and Greenland was full of the sound of children's voices, but it seemed to folk that they could not hear these voices without sadness and fear, for men never know when the heavy hand of the Lord will fall upon them, for the Lord chooses which sins He will punish, and which He will not, and it is His power to know better than men do what pleases Him. Even so, it seemed to the Greenlanders that their children were a great treasure to them, and that they could not have enough of this treasure. In some steadings four or more children followed upon one another year by year, and the wife and all the servingwomen were round with more.

At this Thing, Bjorn Bollason the lawspeaker said all the laws that he could remember in one day, although it had always taken three days in the time of Osmund Thordarson. After that, cases were conducted, and Ofeig Thorkelsson was outlawed, with only a formal defense by his mother's brother Hrolf. Men got together from every district, and the priest Eindridi Andresson with them, the men to discuss how the outlaw might be captured and killed, and the priest to say what would be done if Ofeig was indeed a devil. This priest was a hard and outspoken man, but he was not Sira Audun, and folk recalled with wonder how Sira Audun had knocked Ofeig down and sat upon his chest, praying loudly to the Lord. Sira Eindridi would be hard put to do such a thing, folk said.

Also at this Thing, Jon Andres Erlendsson asked again for the hand of Helga Gunnarsdottir, and Gunnar Asgeirsson did as folk said he should have done the year before, and consented to the marriage. Kollgrim Gunnarsson went about the a.s.sembly field at Brattahlid looking dark and ill-tempered, but indeed, he said nothing and threatened no one. And on the last day of the Thing, a peculiar affair took place, and it went as follows.

Bjorn Bollason had a large new booth, as befitted the lawspeaker, and his wife Signy and his daughter Sigrid arranged it attractively, and were hospitable about serving food to folk who were nearby, and so it was that not a few folk made it their business to be nearby. But among these, there was never anyone from Hvalsey Fjord, for the Hvalsey Fjorders were not especially interesting to the folk from Solar Fell, nor interested in them. But now every time anyone went into the booth, Bjorn Bollason asked after some of the Hvalsey Fjord folk, and about every fourth time he brought up the name of Gunnar Asgeirsson: was Gunnar at the Thing; where was his booth; had he brought any of his folk with him; did Kollgrim Gunnarsson come with him or have a booth of his own; were the father and son on good terms, or were they estranged, as some folk said; was it true that the daughter had been betrothed to a family enemy, and at this very Thing, did Gunnars Stead belong to Gunnar or to Kollgrim; what sort of steading was it, as prosperous as it had once been, or fallen off; was it intact, with two large fields, or had it only the one; what would happen concerning these matters when the marriage took place between Helga and Jon Andres? In short, Bjorn Bollason's curiosity about Gunnar's affairs could not be satisfied, and news of this got back to Gunnar, who sat outside his booth and smiled to himself, for he thought that surely Bjorn was thinking to make an offer for Johanna on behalf of one of his sons, and though folk said that the sons were all but indistinguishable from each other, Gunnar thought it would be a good household for Johanna, and he recollected that as matters had turned out, he had not done badly for his daughters after all. But although many folk reported to Gunnar that his name was always in the lawspeaker's mouth, the lawspeaker himself never appeared, and so Gunnar began to get annoyed, and decided to strike his booth and pack up a little early-on the morning of the fourth day rather than toward evening. And so he was packing his furnishings when a boy who must have been one of the sons came up to him and said in a polite but authoritative way, "Gunnar Asgeirsson, Bjorn Bollason the lawspeaker wishes to see you privily in his booth." Such was not the courteous procedure for betrothal, so Gunnar took his time in finishing his task and arranging his clothing and walking over to the lawspeaker's booth.

The lawspeaker had grown heavy in the years since the great hunger, for indeed, there was no stint of provisions at Solar Fell. He was also finely dressed, and the weaving of the stuff of his robe attracted Gunnar's gaze with its softness and the complexity of the pattern. It was not dyed at all, for the lawspeaker was known to affect clothing that was as white as possible. As soon as Gunnar entered the booth, Bjorn bustled about to put him in the high seat and find him refreshment. Then he turned to everyone else in the booth and sent them away, even Signy, his wife, and Bolli, his eldest son. It seemed to Gunnar that he might be a little offended, if the procedure weren't so unusual. Now Gunnar sat with his bowl of sourmilk, and Bjorn watched him taste it, and nodded, smiling, as if he wished Gunnar to appreciate especially its smoothness and thickness. Gunnar said nothing and looked boldly about. The booth was a rich one, made partly of reindeer skins and partly of foxskins, with decorated wadmal hung about inside. Finally, Bjorn began in this way: "It seems to me that the marriages of one's children turn out to call for more care and effort than they should. Why is it that they can't simply be matched up as a father sees that they should be? Instead of this, there is much exertion of will and a great deal of noise about the steading."

"No father would disagree with what you say."

"And yet, two of your daughters have made great matches."

"Folk say so."

"It seems to me that it must be different for you than it is for me, as you have many daughters and I have many sons. Sons are said to be more rowdy and troublesome, but all of my four sons give me less grief than my one daughter."

Gunnar smiled. "Folk would say the same of my one son. Folk would say that trouble is in his nature."

"Indeed, I am not a little sorry to hear these words of you, for my troublesome daughter has set her heart upon your troublesome son, and is fixed in her resolution to be married into Gunnars Stead."

"I had not thought that Kollgrim would ever be wed."

"He is a handsome and skilled fellow, the best man for hunting of all the Greenlanders, folk say."

"Even so, he is like my father's brother, Hauk Gunnarsson. He has not the faculty for living with a wife. The concerns of women are so remote from him, that he thinks not of them. It seems to me that it would surprise him to know that such concerns exist." Gunnar fell silent, in thought, then went on, "But perhaps I am speaking of my uncle and not of my son, for Kollgrim is greatly attached to his sister, and grieves at her marriage more than a brother should."

"Does he treat her well or ill?"

"Well, she says, but she has devoted herself to him since he was an infant swaddled in the bedcloset."

"But now she is going off."

"Sisters go off, in the course of events." Now the two men fell silent and looked carefully at each other. After a bit of time, Bjorn Bollason said, "Folk must have told you the whereabouts of Margret Asgeirsdottir."

Gunnar colored. "Folk know better than to tell me of her."

"Even so, should anything come of this talk we are having-"

"It seems to me better for your daughter that nothing come of it. Many years ago, Kollgrim was dunked into the ocean as a trick. The event has left its marks. It is not for the carefully raised only daughter of the lawspeaker to take this upon herself. When I have seen her about, for example at Thorkel Gellison's feast, I have seen that she is a merry one, very pert and full of talk. It seems to me that Kollgrim would confuse her, and also that she would confuse him."

Now Bjorn Bollason sat long in thought, and Gunnar could see that he was discontented with the outcome of this talk. At last he said, "But is it not better to let them discover their own foolishness in their own way?"

"But Kollgrim has never spoken of Sigrid Bjornsdottir. And my Helga tells me that a servingmaid at Gunnars Stead is with child. These things do not seem auspicious to me. Kollgrim is nearly thirty winters of age. I favor early marriage, as I was myself but nineteen and my Birgitta but fourteen when I gained her at the Thing from Lavrans Kollgrimsson."

"I will tell her it cannot be, then." And he smiled sheepishly, and Gunnar envied him not at all for carrying this news. Then Bjorn said, "But let it be that we part as friends, for you have done your best to save my folk from injury. If trouble should arise for you, from whatever quarter, you may say that the lawspeaker is as a brother to you, and will help you in every way."

"Folk say that I am an unlucky fellow, and so I pray that you will not live to regret such liberal words." And the two men stood up, and parted, and it seemed to them that they had decided the outcome of the matter, and they were both much satisfied.

Now it also happened on the last day of the Thing that Kollgrim was standing outside his booth, and he had just finished washing himself in a basin of water, when Sigrid Bjornsdottir ambled past. She was dressed very richly, and Kollgrim saw that she had made a fine hood for herself out of the foxskins he had given her. She pa.s.sed him without looking up or speaking, and he let her go for a bit, until she was well past him. Then he called out, "Indeed, Sigrid Bjornsdottir, it would befit you to thank me for those foxskins you are so vain of."

She spoke without turning around. "Have I not made my trade, and paid their full worth? Can there be more that you want from me?"

Now Kollgrim went after her, and stepped in front of her, and said, "You have a merry smile. A sight of that would be good thanks, except that perhaps it is the case that I would wish for more payments after I had the one."

Sigrid laughed. Kollgrim said, "Indeed, I do wish for more."

"Men are not to wish for such things. It is discourteous."

Now Kollgrim laughed. "I am a Hvalsey Fjorder. It is not for me to know what is discourteous, as the daughter of the lawspeaker herself does."

"Folk say you are a Vatna Hverfi man, though."

"And folk say that you are living at Solar Fell, but I happen to know that you were born elsewhere, in Dyrnes."

"We share something then." She smiled brightly, and Kollgrim looked her up and down. She was much unlike Helga, small and trim and lively, with those curls spilling out of her hood and falling about her face. He said, "It seems to me that we might share more things, if events turned out a certain way."

"Even so, folk know nothing of what is to come. At any rate, the Thing is breaking up today, and when our servants have our booth down, then we must depart. But indeed, it is a large booth, and my father has brought along many furnishings. Of course, also there are not a few servants." After saying this, Sigrid began to walk up the hillside, and Kollgrim followed her, and they had more conversation. At the top of the hill, Kollgrim turned off, and went to Gunnar's booth, which was nearby. Gunnar was beginning to separate the reindeer skins from one another, when Kollgrim entered the booth. He said, "My father, I will not mince words with you. It is my intention to wed Sigrid Bjornsdottir of Solar Fell," and this speech was so unexpected to Gunnar, that he let out a great noise that was half a gasp and half a groan. Now Kollgrim went on, and said, "I see that it is your wish to thwart me in this matter, too."

"It seems to me an ill-omened match, especially as we hear from Helga that Elisabet Thorolfsdottir is with child. A wife and a concubine on the same steading always bring trouble, and the sons know not how they stand with one another."

"Elisabet Thorolfsdottir may return to Lavrans Stead. Whatever the outcome of the birth, there will be room for the child on one steading or the other. But it is not for a servingmaid to stand in the way of a good match. Helga is leaving me, and it pleases me to have a woman about the place."

"Sigrid Bjornsdottir seems more like a girl to me."

"She is a good many winters older than Birgitta Lavransdottir was when you brought her to Gunnars Stead. Solar Fell is a well-arranged steading. I doubt that her training has been lacking."