The Saga of Colm the Slave (32 page)

Some farmers invited Albert to stay with
them for a day or two and tell them about his faith. Most of them
did so in order to win favor with Snorri the godi, who was believed
to be friendly toward the new religion.

Eventually, Albert came by Orm’s farm
and Orm said that he might stay the night and speak to anyone who
cared to listen. Marta was less inclined to be hospitable but she
prepared food for her guests and said nothing insulting. Ljot and
Styr came by and Ljot was taken by Albert’s words. “I think there
is something to this,” he told Styr.

Styr shrugged. “I don’t know. One god is
like another to me. They all drink the blood of your horses and
demand gifts and even then you can’t count on their help.”

Ljot shook his head. “This god doesn’t
want blood. In fact, the Christians do not sacrifice.”

“Don’t sacrifice! Well, how do they
celebrate then? How bring everyone together and feast?”

“I think they still celebrate,” said
Ljot, “But I’m not certain as to the details.”

In the morning, Marta was outside
talking to the land-spirit in the stone when Albert overheard her.
“What superstitious nonsense!” he said. “You will only bring harm
on yourself calling on these idols and false gods.”

Marta became very angry. “What do you
mean, taking food from us and then insulting the being who protects
our farm!”

“There is no being inside that stone,
unless it is an unclean spirit,” said Albert. “I speak to you out
of love so that you may learn the truth and keep your life free of
error. But I will take no more food here, if that concerns
you.”

Others gathered to hear what was going
on. Albert began to preach to them, telling them of the White
Christ and his love and power. Ljot was very interested and began
asking questions. Albert answered them all and preached some more.
Marta stormed inside to a room where she had an altar set up for
Freya. She lit a ritual fire there and made certain preparations,
then she began to chant and pray. Outside the house, whenever
Albert paused, Marta’s chanting was heard. Some people laughed.
Albert paid no attention but went on quietly speaking of his
faith.

Albert had several men accompanying him.
One, named Thorodd, became more and more angry as the laughter
grew. Albert made a statement about Christ and Marta, inside the
house, shouted a chant about horse sacrifice. The two statements
together sounded like someone saying Christ was a horse’s ass.
Asgrim, Thorolf’s grandson, burst out hooting with laughter.
Thorodd raised his sword and rushed at him. “No!” said Albert, but
it was too late. Thorodd brought his sword down and split Asgrim’s
head in two.

Everyone was silent. Albert knelt in
Asgrim’s blood and made the sign of the cross over his broken
skull. “Jesus, accept this man who never had the chance to show his
love for you.” Albert reached in his pouch and drew out a pinch of
salt that he placed between Asgrim’s cold lips.

Thorodd said, “He was a mocking pagan
who deserved to die!”

Albert faced him. “No. You are a fool
and a slayer of men who must throw himself on the mercy of these
people who offered us hospitality.”

“They will kill me!”

“Then pray that your murder will be
forgiven so that you are resurrected in Paradise!”

“No! I will show you that I love
Christ!” Thorodd caught his horse and rode away. Albert knelt by
Asgrim’s body and bowed his head.

Word of what happened soon spread
through the district. Thorolf got together a group of men,
including Hallvard, his other grandson Ahmund, Colm, Gunnar,
Frosti, Ketil, Thrain, and Orm. Styr rode with them, too, but Ljot
stayed with Albert. Thorolf and his followers pursued Thorodd as he
went south. Along the way they came across desecrated shrines and
smashed idols. Thorodd had decided to please Christ that way.

Thorolf was close enough to Thorodd to
see him climb into a boat and sail away to the south. The boat was
headed toward the Vestmann Islands that lay off the coast of
Iceland. Thorodd would find a ship there to take him to Norway.
Thorolf got his own ship, but by the time they reached the islands,
Thorodd was gone.

When Thorolf got back to the mainland,
he found Snorri the godi waiting for him. “This is a terrible
thing,” said Snorri.

“It is terrible that I could not catch
that bastard,” said Thorolf, “I would have nailed him to a tree
like that cursed god of his!”

Snorri nodded. “He committed an evil act
and if he were anywhere around I, myself, would help you capture
and kill him. But he is gone.”

“That stinking priest is still
here!”

“Albert did not murder Asgrim. He tries
to end killings. These Christians desire peace.”

“How can you say that after one of them
killed my grandson!”

“The world does not shift all at once,”
said Snorri. “These things need time. And Christians are no less
human than other men and just as prone to foolish acts. The White
Christ does not end the heat in men’s hearts. Or so Albert says. He
says that Christ’s message is that men must overcome this
heat...”

“I am hot now to spill Albert’s guts on
the ground!”

“There is no honor in that. No one would
oppose you, not even Albert. He would call on his god to receive
his soul and you could slice him to pieces.”

“Then what?”

“Exactly. Neither I nor anyone else
would avenge Albert. You would have his corpse. Then what?”

Thorolf breathed hard. Veins bulged in
his forehead. Tears of rage flowed down his cheeks and he closed
his eyes. Then men saw another party riding toward them. It was a
small group and Ljot and Albert were among its number. Hallvard,
who had been quiet, spurred his horse forward. Albert saw him
coming and dismounted. He knelt on the grass, hands clasped in
prayer. Hallvard swung from his horse and drew his sword. He
hesitated and looked back. “Grandfather?”

Thorolf took in the scene. His eyes
changed expression as he turned his mind to godi duties. Finally he
said, “No. Do not kill him.” He rode up to Albert. “I do not know
how long I can keep myself from killing you, Priest, so best you
leave my district.”

“Yes,” said Albert. “I will leave
Iceland. My mission has failed. I have only brought destruction
here. I am a poor servant to my god and a bad exemplar. I am deeply
sorry.”

“Just leave,” said Thorolf and rode
off.

Ljot told Styr, “I am going with him.
Tell Mother.”

“She will want to hear this from
you.”

“There is no time,” said Ljot. “Tell her
I will be back as soon as I have learned the magic language of
priests and how to make their runes.” He smiled at his brother. “Be
good to Freydis. I think you two were meant to be together.”

So Ljot sailed away with Albert who
promised to take him to a place where he could learn to be a
priest. Gunnora was unhappy, but comforted herself with the thought
that Ljot would return. Styr decided to speak with Freydis at the
first opportunity and, if she seemed suitable, ask his mother to
help him make a match. He worried about that, since he thought his
mother might object to a girl of such low social standing.

Snorri offered Thorolf a handsome gift
worth the blood-price of a grandson, but Thorolf refused, politely,
saying that he was unwilling to indebt himself to a Christian at
that time. “I’m not a Christian,” said Snorri.

“Not yet,” said Thorolf, “But I can see
there will be a decision time and I do not want to commit myself
right now.”

Snorri nodded. Later, he offered the
same gift to Hallvard. Hallvard thought about it for a while and
then he accepted Snorri’s gift.

31. Religious Troubles

These were difficult times in Iceland.
Olaf Tryggvesson was King of Norway now. He had been a fierce
viking, harrying other lands, until the English king Ethelred
converted him to Christianity. Now he spread his faith everywhere,
using all the ferocity he had learned raiding. He sent another
missionary to Iceland, a Frankish priest named Thangbrand who
killed three men who opposed the new faith. Thangbrand’s ship was
wrecked and people said that Thor had done it, but Thangbrand and
his crew reached shore and he killed another man before leaving
Iceland. No one spoke of Thor then.

People were anxious and distraught.
There were reports of hauntings and walking dead. Ominous portents
showed in the sky. People muttered prayers to whatever god they
followed, then looked over their shoulder to see if anyone had
heard them. Some men tore down temples and wrecked idols. Others
attacked them for doing so. Some men refused to pay temple-tax to
their godis. People spoke against the gods and a law was passed
forbidding blasphemy. Hjalti Skeggason was sentenced to lesser
outlawry when he said:

“I don’t mean to blaspheme

But to me it seems

Freya’s a bitch all the same.”

So the country was in turmoil over large
matters, but most people still had to deal with the more usual
common concerns. Colm didn’t trouble himself over religion. Though
he had been nominally a Christian when he was taken into slavery,
he scarcely thought about that now. He seldom thought of the Norse
gods, either. He shared the meat at sacrifices and made toasts in
broth across the fire, but he never prayed. There were many like
Colm in Iceland, men who tended their farms and paid little
attention to religion. A few said they believed in no gods at all
but trusted only their own strength. Others just shrugged and said
that if there were any gods, then they believed in them. They
attended sacrifices and enjoyed the celebration but it can’t be
said that they worshipped.

32. Thurid Is Unhappy

Braga sent for Colm and he rode over to
Helgafeld. Braga and Freydis were outside in the yard. Each held a
baby. Freydis had Ingveld in her arms. The girl was almost two and
just learning to walk. Braga held the new baby, a boy named Magnus.
Colm thought that Thurid had probably picked this name, after the
step-father, Ingveld's husband, who had died before she was born,
and he hoped that the child might show more sense than his
namesake. He himself could not recall the name of the slave that
had probably fathered Frosti and he wondered if Braga did.

Magnus was crying lustily while Braga
held him close and rocked him against her. Colm could hear Thurid
shouting at someone in the house. A slave, he thought. He seated
himself between the women and greeted Braga, then Freydis. “That’s
a fine-looking bundle you have there,” he said to the girl. Freydis
sat erect, her chin up. She did not reply but she returned Colm’s
smile. What’s all this? he wondered.

Braga finally got Magnus quiet. “I want
to speak to you,” she said, “About Freydis.”

Colm felt the girl stiffen beside him.
He said nothing but nodded at Braga. She said, “Styr seems to want
to marry her.” Colm nodded again, wondering what was required of
him in this matter. “Neither of these young people has a man to
speak for them in this contract." She paused. "Frosti is not
willing to do this at this time. I ask you to speak for Freydis.”
Braga sat back and waited.

“Well,” said Colm, “I would be proud.”
He thought Braga meant him to offer something to sweeten the deal
with Gunnora and he was willing to do that. He wanted Frosti and
his family to do well. “Freydis seems to me an honorable
hard-working young woman that would make a fine wife to any man.
But how do you feel about this offer?” He turned to Freydis.

The girl sat with the baby in her lap.
Ingveld was big and well-formed and, holding her, Freydis seemed
very small and young. “I don’t know,” she said. Then she closed her
mouth and said no more.

Colm waited a moment, then began, “Well,
Freydis, if you don’t want to marry Styr...”

“No! It’s not that. I like him well
enough, I suppose. I just don’t know about being married.”

“Then why not put this off for a little
while?”

Braga spoke. “You mustn’t let the
problems of others keep you from happiness.”

“But I don’t know that I would be
happy!” said Freydis.

“Ah,” said Colm, “Well, I think Gunnora
would not be so harsh to...”

“It’s not Gunnora I’m thinking
about!”

Then Colm thought Freydis was concerned
about leaving her mother alone to deal with Frosti and Thurid’s
family. Most women did not conceive while nursing, but Thurid
seemed an exception. “You know,” he said, “Perhaps another
serving-girl is needed here at Helgafeld. I think I could find
one...” But Freydis was already shaking her head and now Colm was
stumped. He looked off across the yard trying to think.

There was a sudden commotion in the
house and Frosti burst out of the entryway. He saw Colm but didn’t
greet him, just ducked his head and ran across the yard toward the
home field. Thurid emerged from the house shaking her fist and
yelling, “Keep going, you good-for-nothing...” then she caught
sight of Colm and stopped shouting. She smoothed her apron and
said, “Oh, I didn’t know we had company. You should have called me,
Braga.”

“Actually,” said Colm, “I just came to
see Braga for a moment. I... uh... that is, Gwyneth wanted to know
if she might come by the Trollfarm and pick up some things we were
going to send down here.”

“Oh? What things?”

Colm improvised. “I’m not entirely
certain. Some baby clothes, I think, and the bilberries were
abundant so that she dried a lot, more than we can use.” He
shrugged and threw up his helpless male hands to show that he
understood little of women’s commerce.

Thurid nodded, looking into his eyes.
“And how is Gwyneth?”

“She is well,” said Colm. “I think she
means to come visit you soon.”

“I am always pleased to see my mother,”
said Thurid.