Paths of the Norseman, page 13
part #2 of The Norseman Chronicles Series
I rolled onto my back and stretched my arms toward the ceiling. My Charging Boar tattoo reminded me that I too was a subject of the whims of royal Fate. All I could do was sigh while I moved my hands to support my head. Not sure what to say next I said, “We are all implements – play things of the gods.”
My tired platitude did nothing to improve her mood. Gudrid let out an angry shout before saying with resignation, “Last summer, the year Leif returned, a man named Thorfinn Karlsefni came to Greenland from Iceland. He’s a rich merchant and well liked. Shortly after the Yule, I mean Christmas, celebration, he asked Erik for my hand in marriage. Erik agreed without consulting me.”
“Why didn’t you just offer up a protest? Erik is not so harsh, especially in his age, as to force a woman to marry.”
“How could I do such a thing? He took me in after I could not save his son, Thorstein, from death. He became steward of my father’s estate, Stokknes, when my parents died. How could I oppose the wishes of a man who had done so much for me?”
And there it was, I thought. Gudrid and I were a perfect match for one another. We were both so resigned to our obligations and the destiny which wound around them that we, she and I, were identical. But so bastardized were our fates that the perfect match made it impossible for us to find ourselves together. Shit, was all I thought next.
“You’re right,” I said, stating the obvious. “You had no choice. Because you are a good woman, you had no choice.”
The darkness began to fill in around us so that I just saw her silhouette against the tired flames. Leif had been wrong, I thought. Staying here to mind Leifsbudir only prevented my wedding, it did not ensure it. But I had obeyed my friend and leader. My fate.
“Erik lives?” I finally asked when I accepted the fact that there was no more to say on the matter.
“No, he died some weeks ago. His health had been in decline for most of the last year. He never really came back from his tumble from the horse the day you left.”
Well at least Leif was right about one thing. “Did Leif rescue more men on his return trip?”
Gudrid looked up and through the dim light I saw surprise on her face, “How did you know that?”
I huffed a chuckle, not bothering to answer. So Leif had been right about two things.
Talking and laughing from far away outside the longhouse caused me to tilt my head. Gudrid just said, “The others are returning.”
“Others? By the way, how do you find yourself here alone with me?” I asked.
Gudrid rose, beginning to stoke the fire. She set about preparing the meal she was likely to have already finished. “Yes, there are many others. One hundred forty came on three ships. They’ve been busy adding more houses and fence to Leifsbudir since we came here over a week ago. Several men went out in search of you and came back after two days. You’ve been unconscious for about five days after your fight with the skraelings. I volunteered to nurse you back to health while everyone else worked on bringing down trees or hunting or fishing.”
“Is Karlsefni here too?”
“Of course he is. He wouldn’t miss a chance to find new trading territories. He’s out with the others.”
“Then how does he let you walk about with your hair spilling out like an unmarried woman?”
“He doesn’t,” was Gudrid’s quick reply. “Each day when I was sure everyone would be gone for a time, I unbundled my hair to pretend that I was still eligible to be wooed when you awoke.” Her face was illuminated by the steadily growing flames. “It was a foolish thing to do, I know.”
“Perhaps it was, but I’m glad you did. It allowed us to be together at least once.”
Gudrid smiled while the voices outside grew louder. Some began to head toward the cove where the ships were probably moored. Another group filed into the longhouse where Gudrid and I had spent the last few hours.
The first man through the door was unfamiliar to me. He was a beast of a man – almost as tall as I but with even broader shoulders and a belly that said he provided well for himself. He had a great mass of dusty wheat colored hair encircling his weather-worn face. His eyes were a bright green and immediately showed an adventurous side to the man. He tossed a bloodied spear into a corner with a hand as big as a shield.
“Gudrid, my dear!” he shouted. “I’ve killed one. I killed one of those monsters that carry antlers like those hanging there on the wall.” He pointed to the moose antlers I had mounted in the home when Leif was still in Vinland. “By God that thing was fierce. But I brought it down with my spear and my spear only. None of this bow and arrow goat crap for me!”
Ignoring his boast, Gudrid said, “Thorfinn, Halldorr’s awake. I think he has a lot of strength left in him!” She said the last with a twinkle in her eye that only I noticed.
Thorfinn Karlsefni turned his enormous head my way, flashing a genuine grin. His golden beard carried a single braid that was entangled with the rest of the hair dangling on his chest. The braid was adorned with a bright red bit of cloth at the end. The man marched to the platform where I lay – where his wife, Gudrid, had lain only minutes ago – and crouched to my side. He grabbed my good arm and shook it mightily saying, “I am so glad to see you awake, lad!” He said the last even though I was sure he was younger than I. He continued, “I’ve heard nothing but great things about you from Erik and Leif, everyone really.”
“Not from me!” This was said by Erik’s old sporting companion, Thorhall the Huntsman, who had just walked in.
“You never say anything nice about anyone you old shriveled tit!” retorted Thorfinn. “And I only just met you in the past year.”
The Huntsman grumbled something inaudible while stowing his gear along the wall. Thorfinn returned his attention to me, “So everyone who counts spoke highly of you. But then I come here and you are nowhere to be found. I thought that was not like the descriptions of you so Thorvald and some men tracked you down. Here you were playing dress up with some skraelings – what with your combs and everything – and things got out of hand. Did one take a dislike to you when you expressed your true feelings for him?” This last caused him to let out a jumbo laugh. The generally grumpy Huntsman snorted his approval. Gudrid smiled sweetly at her new husband.
I liked the man. And I could see he would be good with Gudrid. I felt a small pang of guilt over what she and I had just done, but decided that the past could not be unwound. I shrugged it off as Thorvald, Leif’s oldest and only remaining brother, came in with some men I recognized but whose names I did not recall.
Thorfinn sprang to his feet and inquired of Gudrid as to the whereabouts of dinner. She thought quickly on her feet saying, “I was so surprised by Halldorr’s recovery that I did not help with any preparations. He needed his bandages replaced.” That explanation sounded reasonable to Thorfinn who shouted outside to his thralls who cleaned the moose to find some dinner for us all.
After eating a meal of fried eggs and cheese like a ravenous wolf, I propped myself up against the wall of the longhouse to hear all the news and stories about life in Greenland and Iceland since I left. After Erik’s passing, Leif had assumed the role of jarl of Greenland. He was popular among those he ruled despite his past banishment. This year would be his first chance to run the Thing at Fridr Rock. I smiled as I heard stories of several of the disputes he had already been called to judge. My favorite involved a wealthy widow, a bull, and a jealous neighbor woman. One of the two people in that story ended up naked lashed atop the bull, but I forget which one.
Each year settlers continued to arrive to the frigid land my second father first discovered, sometimes two or three boats at a time. Many of the far reaches of Eystribyggo’s fjords were now claimed by the existing Norse Greenlanders so Leif was sending the newcomers to Vestribyggo to further colonize that more remote settlement.
Trade with Iceland and the mother land of Norway continued to flourish. Timber of all sorts generally made the long journey from Norway to Iceland. Many enterprising merchants held back some of the stock from the Iceland market in order to continue on to the more lucrative, and desperate, Greenland market. Many men, Thorfinn among them, hoped to find a ready supply of trees to fell in closer proximity. Markland, to the north, fit that need perfectly, but for now, Thorfinn and the rest were content to spend time further exploring the new lands Leif had discovered.
When I asked if trade had been affected by Forkbeard’s ruling of Norway as his vassal state, the individuals around the hearth just shrugged and tried to move on to more fun tales. However, the mentioning of Sweyn Forkbeard reminded Thorvald that he had a package from King Olaf for me. My face was incredulous, for how could the king who was hiding in the Holy Land see that a package was delivered all the way around the world to me in Vinland?
But he did send me a package along with a letter written in his own hand using the runes of our people. Thorvald went to the sleeping platform on the opposite side of the hearth, pulled a small, tightly packed hudfat from underneath, and plopped the heavy bag across my legs. I nearly jumped out of my skin from the pain, but withheld a scream, clenching my teeth. I eagerly untied the drawstring, loosening the top of the bag. Olaf’s neatly folded letter toppled out first. I moved to open it for immediate reading, but the eyes of all were on me and they protested, demanding to see the gifts.
Setting the letter to the side I pulled out the pelt of a strange beast with tan fur speckled with black spots. This caused a stir among my companions as they passed it around, holding it up in the firelight. Out next, came a handsome suit of mail. Olaf remembered that I lost my brilliantly expensive chain coat in the sea battle with Sweyn. In fact, I had lost two suits while serving my king. Since then I had used the chain mail that I had carried with me for countless years, old, rusted, and sporting broken links. The new suit had long sleeves, extended to my knees, and even had a separate hood of chain to place under a helmet. It was heavy, perhaps forty-five pounds, as I held it out with my good arm. Its shine was gone from the long journey likely completed amidst rain, fog, snow, and the sea-salt air. However, a vigorous scrubbing from a thrall would have it back to perfect condition.
Out next came a small bag gathered with string, holding some gold trinkets and coins with a flowing script form of writing unknown to me stamped across them. Finally, I reached deep into the sack to pull out the last item. It was box-like and wrapped in a sturdy leather purse. Pulling back the covering revealed a book! Olaf had been the one to force me to learn my letters under Crevan’s tutoring. I smiled to myself remembering how I initially bristled at the command. However, I had grown to love reading and writing, and my third father must have seen that for I never said anything to him.
This new book was written in the language of the long dead Romans, Latin. I was thankful for that had become the word in which I was most proficient. I opened the well-worn cover to reveal words closely packed on the pages. There was no artwork, other than the penmanship of the writer. It was the detailed drawing in my first book that even compelled me to keep it. Now I jumped from page to page in this book, not missing pictures in the slightest. How I had changed.
The onlookers quickly tired of me paging through the book and returned to their chattering. But Thorvald again had his simple memory jogged by a mention of Leif and reached into a pocket hidden beneath his jerkin to pull out bit of wrinkled parchment. He threw it atop the book opened on my lap saying simply, “I was to give you that too.”
Leif, too, had sent me a letter. The parchment had originally been rolled up, but Thorvald had probably found it cumbersome to transport it in that manner, so I had to pick away at the creases in the letter to reveal Leif’s words. They were few, and what was there was written in runes.
Halldorr, Jarl of Vinland, Good Steward of all Properties of Erik, Dear Brother, I conveyed your words to our father, Erik. He expressed his pleasure in having you as an adopted son before his passing.
I thank you for staying in Vinland. By now you know that Gudrid is wed. Please know that my vision remains true. You will wed. It was necessary that you stay in Tyrkr’s land of the grapes.
Thorfinn is a good man. I like him. Please help Thorvald in all his endeavors; he will need a good advisor.
Your Brother in Christ, Leif
“I’ll go farther than Leif and farther than Thorstein ever went,” Thorvald was shouting as I finished Leif’s note. The mention of our two brothers piqued my interest, and I returned to the conversation.
“What was that, Thorvald?” I asked.
“I said that I will explore farther from home than any of Erik’s sons have before. I’m taking my ship next spring and going to claim more and better land than this!”
“Oh,” was my only response.
“I was happy to serve my father for many years while on Greenland, but that place is now Leif’s land. He has his son, Thorgils, to pass it onto. I do not intend to serve behind my brother and his snot-faced son. I’ll claim land for us, for our new God, and bring Gro there to rule with me.”
I remembered Leif’s request in his letter that I was to be a helper to Thorvald. I wondered just how much of my fellow exile’s appeal was part of his visions. I said, “Then count me among your crew.” In many ways Thorvald had always lived in his more prominent brothers’ shadows, even though he was the oldest. He had been a reliable hunter and provider to his wife and a reliable aid to his father, but Thorstein’s wit and Leif’s intelligence outshined any and all of Thorvald’s deeds. I looked forward to helping the man, now in his late thirties, in making a name for himself, to step out from the shadows of his accomplished brothers.
Thorhall the Huntsman piped up from his place in the corner while he rocked back and forth on the legs of a short stool, “I’ll be with you, Thorvald Eriksson. Even though you are even more of a turd than your father, I must go to be rid of all these women.” His head pointed to Gudrid. We all, even Gudrid, laughed at the curmudgeon’s words.
Karlsefni raised a mug of ale exclaiming, “To exploring a new world. May it be profitable to you, Thorvald!”
The night finished like that, much boasting and ale drinking, though as I stated in my first writing, I gave up drinking to excess following my drunkenness after Kenna’s death. My awakening that day was being used as an excuse for an impromptu celebration. One by one, sleep came to the others in the longhouse. Even Thorfinn and Gudrid retired to their place next to one another on the platform. I watched them with only a tinge of regret as they snuggled. He would make a good husband, and I had to admit that, like Leif, I liked the man.
Eventually there were only two of us left with our eyes open. Thorhall the Huntsman babbled on about how he would make a name for himself one day. He speculated that he would end up taking a long journey that no one had ever before conceived. I silently looked at the old man’s dark complexion and sullen expression, thinking that his time had passed long ago. But I liked him too. He was honest to his thoughts, unafraid to give his opinion, which put him in high stead in my estimation.
When the Huntsman’s chin finally lay on his chest, I impatiently lifted Olaf’s letter from the bench and held it in the fading firelight. I wanted it to be for me only.
Halldorr, Captain of the King’s Guard, Faithful Warrior, Dear Son, I write this letter to you in my own hand mere months from my arrival in Jerusalem. I have had much regret in my heart since we were forced to part company. I fear that I was not the king the One God wished I would be. You and I led many to His Name, but my leadership ultimately failed in securing a free Norse. Now our people are subjects to the rarely sober Forkbeard. How pitiful I feel in this regard.
However, you should know that my heart also has bouts of extreme elation. I think about your service to me and the Norse. I think of your unfailing dedication to that thrall boy and how we may have won at Maldon as a result of him. You are wise beyond what you choose to exhibit, dear son. You should know that your life until now has demonstrated nothing but exceptional judgment, except perhaps your fondness for me. When you are given the opportunity to lead men, please seize it, they will be the better for it.
The One God has seen fit to present me with more than I need at this time. The Holy Land is a marvelous place with more skin colors of men than I knew existed. The hide I included in this package is from a cat-like beast called a leopard. I saw a living one at a traveling carnival just last week. It comes from the land south, beyond the Red Sea.
Unfortunately, I know you will find a good use for the coat of mail. I still laugh to myself when I think about how one of your suits nearly caused you to drown because you could not hang on to the prow of your own ship. I recall you did manage to hang on to your father’s old saex which speaks volumes of your character.
As you can likely tell, the coins are of high value. They are solid gold and stamped with words in the Arabic language honoring one of their gods called Allah. They are a curious people, even claiming some of the patriarchs of the Jewish faith as their own. But despite that, they seem to exhibit open hostility toward both Jews and Christians alike. I fear I may find myself in battle against them one day.
The Holy Land is a wonderful place of learning and many books. It seems as if there are more books here than water. The people must live on the words that sprout from the vellum. This reminds me of the One God’s word saying that man does not live on bread alone. Certainly, on my journey here, I needed my faith more than I needed a meal. For years, I observed your love of the written word and hope you find my gift appealing. It is the text of the One God’s word before he sent his glorious Son, Jesus the Christ to us.
