Paths of the Norseman, page 15
part #2 of The Norseman Chronicles Series
Some of the men began to inspect the damage to the keel as the water leaked out onto the beach, giving them a better view. I did not need to look, for having built two longboats, great warships really, I knew what had to be done.
Picking four of the closest men I said, “You men will be sentries. One go north and one go south a good distance along the beach. You other two go into the forest, spacing yourselves, and keep watch.” Without looking to the captain, they strapped their swords, such as they were, to their waists and were off. Command, I thought, when properly executed and obeyed, was quite satisfying. For the first time I was thankful for all that had happened to me in the past. My time serving Olaf, especially, gave me ample opportunity to develop my abilities to lead men. In his letter, Olaf implored me to seize leadership, so I did.
Walking to the next set of men I shouted, “You twenty take axes from the hold, as many as we brought, and begin bringing down straight trees with a diameter about the size of a single spread hand. Clean them of branches and haul the trunks to this shore. We will prepare them further once they arrive. Start with sixty trunks. Njordr will be in charge.” I suppose my directions were clear because no one asked any questions. They immediately set about tearing apart the hold to get all the axes stowed there. As they then marched their way into the thick forest of pine I yelled, “And did any of you think to take whetstones to make your work easier?” When they looked sheepishly at one another, I reached into my rucksack, producing mine and my spare. I indicated that any other man with the stones on his person should give them up for the cause.
Then I turned to Thorhall. “Huntsman,” I said, “Lead a hunting party to get us some game for dinner tonight.” The sour Huntsman gave a curt nod then poked his finger hard into the chests of the three men he wanted to come with him. As they secured their bows and hunting knives, I rolled my eyes saying, “And I suggest you go south so that on your way you can tell that lazy sentry that he should get his fat ox-like ass off that driftwood and move further than fifty paces from the ship.”
Thorhall and his group said nothing to me, but finished their preparations, soon leaving. When they were gone, Thorvald crossed his arms with visible disgust. “Halldorr, that was some commanding I just witnessed, but I want to explore. After all, we are on a ship christened Glorious Discovery! You’ve sent all my men away.”
Nodding, I began fishing around in my baggage. When I didn’t immediately respond Thorvald’s frustration with me grew. “I am talking to you, Halldorr!”
When I recovered what I was searching for, I stood up to face Thorvald and the two men left at the ship. “Aye, brother Thorvald, you are talking, but making no sense. We stand on a pile of wood only good for a pyre. Until we get the keel repaired, we best not go poking our nose where it may not belong in case we need to flee.”
I adjusted some of the luggage in the hold then plopped down upon it. After sidling my rear into a comfortable position, I leaned back and placed my feet up on a small barrel of ale. I spread my new book across my lap and began to read the text from a page I randomly selected.
“Flee? What could we possibly have to flee from?”
“Deduc me Domine in via tua iustitiae via, dirige in conspectu tuo fac me inimici mei insidiatus,” was my cryptic answer.
“What is it you think you are doing?” questioned the now fully exasperated Thorvald.
I made sure to finish the sentence I was now reading silently before answering with a sweeping motion of my hand, “Dear Thorvald, I am standing watch over our very own Glorious Discovery.”
“Your time away in exile and alone in Vinland has made you impossible to deal with sometimes. I don’t understand you.” I went back to my reading while Thorvald and the other two stood quietly looking down at me. One of the men became uncomfortable with the silence, so he hummed a little tune. It made me smile as I read. Thorvald told him to shut up.
Sometimes I think back to times like that and feel guilty. I loved Thorvald. He was my older brother and I wanted nothing but good for him. Yet I tortured him that day. I don’t know why I did that. I think we torture those we love. At least that is what I tell myself. Eventually he erupted, “By the One God! May Christ himself smite you! What am I to do with all my men gone?”
While carefully turning a page, keeping my eyes fixed on the book, I said, “Thorvald, I do not know what you intend to do, but I do know what you ought to do if you care for a suggestion.”
He sighed, “Oh, what is it? Out with it.”
“Well, since we are likely to be here for a while, why don’t you take these two men and make a camp, using the extra sail cloth for a cover? They can get a fire going and that way when the Huntsman returns we can prepare a feast for all the men who carried out your bidding today.”
Another exasperated grunt told me his pride was hurt, but that he agreed. Soon these last three were gone and I had the boat to myself. I began by devouring the words. Within moments I was devouring page after page. Hours slipped by.
. . .
We left the boat where she lay that night. By the time everyone returned to the new camp from hunting deer or felling trees, dusk had settled in. We placed new sentries while we celebrated our safety with fresh venison steaks. Thorvald led us in a prayer of thanksgiving to the One God for delivering us from the storm, ignoring the Huntsman’s role. He made many mistakes in his words since he never read anything from the One God, not having known his letters and since he rarely attended Thjordhildr’s Church where Torleik the priest now faithfully served. The men did not notice his inaccuracies, however, since they were all new to the faith and also rarely attended the lone church on Greenland.
Following our make-shift feast and prayer vigil I gave instructions for the watch, found a soft patch of earth under the tarp, and slept all the way through to a brilliant morning sun cresting over the horizon atop the sea.
We were busy that day. Njordr and several others helped me cut the logs now strewn across the beach to the length I wanted while Thorhall supervised their placement to the fore of Glorious Discovery. We placed them perpendicular to the keel in a manner so that we could use them to roll the ship ashore. Some of the logs were cut for supports to prop her vertically while sliding across the log rollers. We had just enough of the small logs for props, chocks, and stocks to buttress our wounded boat.
Long, heavy ropes were secured to the ship in two places near the bow. We ran them up to the forest, wrapping each once around broad trees to give us the needed leverage. Then we pulled the ship ashore with the massive Njordr and Volundr acting as anchors on each of our ropes. The men dug their feet into the sand while they struggled to get her moving. Eventually she began to inch her way up the log path while I had three helpers with me to move the props as she went. The last several ells of pulling were difficult indeed for we had made a short ramp to help bring the ship up out of the sand to work. When I finally yelled, “Stop,” the men had to hold the boat steady while we hurriedly set all the chocks in a more permanent place.
After pausing for a mid-day meal of dried meat and the last of the stale bread, I pointed out how I wanted the damaged portion of the keel removed. Parts of the garboards were damaged too, which would lengthen the time needed to complete the repairs.
I left Thorhall, who had a good head, behind to run this project. Meanwhile, Thorvald and several men accompanied me into the forest to select a tree to splice into our keel. Since we only needed a short section to join into the stem, we did not need to be as particular as old Thorberg Skaffhog had been when selecting trees for the long keels of Olaf’s ships. However, we did a fair amount of walking before we came to a small grove of oaks tucked amidst the pines.
From Thorberg’s able tutoring I could tell that any of the nearest trees would have been suitable so I did not hesitate when Thorvald slapped one of the trunks, declaring it would be our keel. Two of us worked our axes rhythmically and brought it down. Then all of us pulled out our axes to clean the branches free. Normally we would let the women and children gather these left over pieces for use in cooking fires or other sections of the ship. This time, however, we let them be.
With huge steel wedges, I halved the great tree, splitting it lengthwise. Njordr then quartered the trunk until we had logs the men could handle, while I rested, dripping sweat to the ground. Even though we did not need all of this lumber today, we decided to take it with us to the boat for future use.
Two days of shaping and fitting the replacement sections of the keel and fractured garboards, then a day of coating these new portions with a thick coat of pine tar, and we were finished. In the opposite fashion the boat was brought to shore, she was slowly set back into the sea. With a hammer I knocked the chocks which held her in place while men dug their feet into the sand holding the ropes to lower her back to her salty berth.
Without the fore ballast stones in place, Glorious Discovery sat at an awkward angle as she floated in the surf. I would have preferred to balance her while sitting in smooth waters, but I decided that we would do a rough job this day and be more precise in the future. I played the part of Thorberg, the old master shipwright, sending men onto the ship to set large stones amongst the ribs to balance the ship, shouting instructions as to their proper placement based upon my view of the ship.
Thorvald demanded that several of the men who were not thus occupied with any current chores dig a deep hole in the beach near our worksite. I heard their grumbling from behind me, not sure what my adopted brother was up to. When they were finished he had them drag the damaged keel into it so that the massive log stood pointing to the sky. They filled in the hole around the section of the keel and it now looked like a branchless tree growing straight out of the beach.
Thorvald smiled while admiring his commissioned artwork. Our two crews finished their work simultaneously so I walked to where he stood. Thorvald felt my presence creep up behind him. Without turning he spread his arms asking, “Magnificent is it not?”
I simply pretended that he spoke of the forest that sat majestically behind the upright keel so as not to discourage his enthusiasm. “It is. It truly is.”
Thorvald turned and grabbed me at the shoulders, a joyful smile carved into his face. “I’m so glad you think so! I had the keel raised to signify our first glorious discovery in the name of the One God!”
Again looking past the damaged stick planted in the sand, “It is glorious, Thorvald! This land would support many thousands of Norseman! What will you call it?”
A look of gleeful surprise sprung onto his face for he had forgotten the right of an explorer in bestowing a name on new worlds. However, his countenance quickly shifted to one of concern as he pondered how he would signify these lands for all time. Running his hand through his thick red-brown mane which was flecked with many grey hairs now, he dropped onto the beach thinking.
I chuckled so he raised his head inquiring, “What is it? Why do you laugh?”
“You just surprise me, brother. I’ve never known you to worry of such details as this. You are more like your father than either of your brothers in so many ways, but even the inquisitive Leif came up with names for lands without fretting like an old maid.” Thorvald, like Erik, had typically felt completely at ease allowing his instincts, right or wrong, to guide his decisions.
“You are right, but I’ve never before given a name to something. All my children have died in birth. I’ve never even bothered to name my dogs, preferring to call them dog instead.” Now I rolled my eyes, which, thankfully, he did not see. I did not wish to mock him. “How do you name something?” he asked.
I felt I was surrounded by children, “Just look around you. What do you see? Name the land as such.”
Thorvald peered around while his backside was still firmly in the sand. As quickly as he surveyed the land, he was immediately done. Wagging his finger at me with the broad smile returning, he said, “You are wise, Halldorr. Wiser than I have ever thought.” He jumped to his feet proclaiming to the few men within earshot, “This land will forever be known by the marker we raised to the heavens today! Men, this marker will tell all future travelers, traders, or settlers that this land is called Kjalarnes!”
Now, I venture to say that anyone reading this has probably never heard of Kjalarnes, which means Keel Point. It is more likely that the splendid monument Thorvald buried in the beach that day was swept to sea during the first or second severe storm that fell upon the shore. I use the word “likely” because I only saw the buried keel one more time in my life.
We did not have time to settle Kjalarnes as my brother and I hoped. We barely had time to perform a cursory exploration of the discovery. His dreams would shortly be extinguished. For that day, the day Thorvald buried the keel in the sand, was also the day that he would direct the building of another memorial – the marker for his own grave.
. . .
After spending so much time repairing the Glorious Discovery’s keel and garboards, our men, including Thorvald, were eager to find whatever riches awaited them in Kjalarnes. Led by their captain, they were already beginning to haphazardly disperse across the sand when I yelled, “Thorvald, don’t you think we ought to have the men arm themselves, at least with some leather mail, and post a watch before we all go traipsing into this still unknown land?”
Thorvald craned his weathered neck to see that I was taking my time to dress in my new coat of mail from Olaf aboard the beached longboat. I never did have someone put a sheen on it, so the suit still looked tarnished from weather. Thorhall, too, dressed in his simple leather coat, strapping a sword to his waist afterwards. “Halldorr, you delay discovery! Yet we will wait for you if you are afraid that some skraeling woman will slit your throat.”
His good-natured taunt brought an expected round of laughter from the men. I did my best to goad the men right back in order for them to choose the wisest course on their own. “It’s not my throat I worry about, nor is it a skraeling woman. I think of my soft belly and how much damage a lucky spear thrust from one of their warriors will do. If I were some of these men with their women back home, I would also make sure I protected my stick. Who knows which Norseman will find his way into a woman’s bed when her man has been castrated by a skraeling axe.” I paused before adding, “But it’s up to you, commander.”
Thorvald took the hint, partially. Tossing his hands up, he said, “Whichever man wants to suit up should do so. I’ll not because I am a confident leader, like my father, who trusts my men completely.” I remember thinking, you’ll be a dead confident leader.
A handful of our companions returned to the ship while I finished tying my belt and sword to my waist over top the thinner belt that always held my father’s saex. I yanked up my shield from its place in the hold where it was stowed when we were not on a strandhogg. At last I hooked my helmet at the rear of my belt and splashed down into the shallow water next to the beach. I was glad the water slowed my precipitous drop, with the added weight of the mail coat, because that was the first time in my life I noticed a pain in my knees from the jolt. Was I so old, then?
When all were made ready, I set a watch of four men led by Njordr, who was most displeased at having to remain behind. Thorvald led our clamoring band, plunging into the forest. We quickly passed the area in the wood where we had harvested our lumber and soon found ourselves in virgin territory.
Here the forest floor was relatively clear and the sun was shaded by a massive canopy of leaves and needles above our heads. Despite our raucous march, I spied a dark brown marten with a smart looking orange throat patch chasing a red squirrel down a tree. I recall this because of how astounding it was to see the marten pursuing his prey at such speed and agility down the pine, head first. I had never seen one during the day – this marten must have been particularly hungry.
Since we were on a sharp point of land, after a time we came to another beach opposite where Glorious Discovery sat. The sea was calmer here because there was a small natural harbor. Dramatic rock formations rose from the sea several ells away from the shore. These rocks looked like enormous mushrooms because the working of the sea at their bases for generations had carved them narrower than the rock heads above. I thought about gathering some wild mushrooms that night for my meal.
On shore, smooth giant rocks sat strewn about. Many looked like they had been shaved from a mountain with the blade of the One God or his son Jesus then dropped into the sand, like seed strewn by a sower. For a short time, we walked along the beach, further and further from Glorious Discovery, toward a particularly large heap of these boulders. I’d like to say the men trailing behind us were silent as an army in unfamiliar territory should be, but they were not. They chatted among themselves. Laughing and telling jokes at each other’s expense. They were confident in their ignorance as men so often are wont to be.
I would also like to say that I acted as a leader of men that day. Men had granted me their permission to lead them at different times during my life even though, based upon our ranks in Norse society, it was Thorvald who led us. I should have seized the leadership crown bestowed upon me that day. I should have directed them more fully – even countermanding Thorvald’s orders. I did not, regretting it still.
As we neared the heap of hewn boulders, we heard a hushed chattering of men’s voices coming from the other side. We then heard rustling in the sand followed by a hollow thud. Silence came next.
Thorvald called to the men, “Weapons. Draw your weapons, charge over the stones and dispatch whatever it is you find.”
“But . . .” was all I got out before the men did their duty and starting scampering over the rocks with their swords and spears clanging against the stones. Thorhall was shaking his head in disgust as he faithfully complied with the order, among the last to make the short trip. For a time I stood alone on the sand looking foolish, I am sure. But reluctantly I too drew my sword and joined the men’s attack on what, God only knew.
