When they got to Brattahlid and encountered others traveling toward the Thing, Eyvind found them places in one of the Brattahlid boats that was going to Gardar, and Margret spoke politely to her former associates when they spoke to her, but mostly she occupied herself in soothing the impatience of Brenna and Freydis, who had never been so far from Isafjord before, and in consoling Finna and Anna, who had earlier been pleased with their clothing, but now were less pleased, when they saw the finery of the wealthy folk from Brattahlid. But, said Margret, it was true enough that some of that finery was stitched from wadmal she had dyed and woven herself while living with Marta, Osmund, and Gudrunn, and it would please her to weave such things for the Eyvindsdottirs, too, and so they passed the time of the boat ride to Gardar talking of weaving patterns and colors and such dyeing plants as there were about Eyvind’s steading. Finna and Anna contented themselves, as women do, with the knowledge that even if they received no offers at this Thing, they would be far better dressed at the next one.
When they came to the Eriks Fjord jetty that belonged to the bishopric, everyone drew their boats up onto the strand or tied them to the rocks that jutted out of the water on the north side of the landing place. Now these northerners began to walk over the hill to Gardar, and to meet others who had come before them, and to linger and look back over the water for others who were behind, and there was a great deal of gossip and talk, and folk, especially womenfolk, saw relatives and friends that they hadn’t seen for many summers. It seemed to Margret that everyone had looked about themselves and thought as Eyvind had thought, that after many years of not going to the Thing, this was a good year to do so, if only to get a look at Bjorn Bollason and his family and his style of speaking and his knowledge of the laws. And as they were walking, an old man that Margret did not recognize told a tale of Osmund Thordarson that Margret had never heard before, and this is how it went:
There was a Greenlander named Oskar Ospaksson who had come to Greenland from Iceland as a small boy, for his father was a poor man in Iceland, and in addition to that had received a sentence of lesser outlawry for attacking a wealthy man. Ospak saw that there was little for him in Iceland, so he came to Greenland, thinking to take to hunting in the Northsetur and make himself a wealthy man, and so he had done so, bringing his son Oskar, but leaving behind his wife. And Ospak and Oskar lived in Greenland for some fifteen summers, mostly in the western settlement, which was closer to the Northsetur. And Ospak was not a bad hunter, and Oskar was not either, although he was hardly so good as he thought himself, for no man could be. These men had one great advantage, and that was that they had had the foresight to bring with them many iron weapons—swords and spears and crossbows with iron-tipped arrows—indeed, Ospak had sold off his patrimony for these weapons, and they were the making of him.
Now it happened when Oskar was some twenty-five winters old, that Ospak grew ill and died suddenly one winter, and Oskar was left alone, and he found just how much he was lacking, as men do when they have only one companion and that companion dies. So Oskar went to the Thing of the western settlement in search of a wife, but none of the girls was to Oskar’s liking, and so he took his boat, which was an open boat he had built himself from driftwood found in the Northsetur, and he rowed to the eastern settlement, where the Thing had already broken up. But he was a man of some resourcefulness, and he carried with him a stock of fine goods from the Northsetur, and he used these goods to gain himself hospitality at all the best houses in Brattahlid and Vatna Hverfi districts, and at Herjolfsnes as well, and he saw many good-looking young women. After the winter had gone by, he looked within his heart and saw there that his fancy was for a young woman named Oddny, who was the daughter of the wealthiest man in Herjolfsnes, and of course she thought little of him, for the Herjolfsnes folk are very proud, refined, and outlandish, and look more to Norway and France than they do to the western settlement for the things they desire.
Now this fellow Oskar was very importunate, so much so that Oddny lost patience and told her father that he had to do something to rid her of this hairy fellow. Oddny’s father, who was a man named Kalf, feared to offend such an unpredictable fellow as Oskar, so he made him a vow, that if he would do something that he had never done before, to prove that he was indeed the best hunter in Greenland, he would give him Oddny’s hand. Oskar asked what this thing might be, and Kalf declared that it would be to go to Markland and bring goods back from there for Oddny’s bridal gift, for as valued as Greenland goods were in Norway at the time, so much more so were goods from Markland. But Kalf knew that there were no ships in Greenland, as none had come at that time in about three years, and so he expected that this would be an impossible task, and he and Oddny were confident that they would now be rid of the northerner.
This was at the end of winter, during Lent, and after hearing these words, Oskar went off and was not heard of for a while, and the folk at Herjolfsnes were pleased enough at that. But then the summer began, and it was just time for the seal hunt, and shortly after the seal hunt was over, news came to Kalf that Oskar had persuaded seventeen men to go with him in his open boat to Markland. And Kalf laughed at this and declared that Oskar had chosen death, not Oddny’s hand.
One of these men who chose to go to Markland was Osmund Thordarson, who was then about twenty-two winters of age, and a big strong fellow, though not much of a hunter. He was a good rower, though, so Oskar consented to his coming, and he was the youngest fellow on the boat. Such a thing as this had never been done before, to take an open boat to Markland, and many folk considered Oskar exceptionally foolhardy, but it must be said that he had little trouble finding folk to go with him, especially folk from the west, who never lived as comfortably as folk in the east.
Now it did seem that Kalf and Oddny would be out of luck, for the men in the boat had exceptionally good weather, and came to the forests of Markland in a very short time, some twenty days or so, with nine men rowing half the time and the other nine rowing the other half of the time, and when they got there, they had good hunting and no encounters with the skraelings, and they got so many furs that Oskar tore the benches out of the boat and piled furs where they had been, and the men sat on these for the trip homeward. Now it happened that one night Osmund came to Oskar and said, “It seems to me that our luck is about to turn and unless we prepare ourselves properly, we will lose all these riches that we have already counted as ours and already used to pay for many things in our mind’s eye.” But because Osmund was the youngest man on the voyage, Oskar merely smiled upon him and paid him little heed. Perhaps, as Osmund said, Oskar considered Oddny to be his, and in his dreams he was already enjoying her. At any rate, there was little to bear out Osmund’s prediction, for the good weather and the good luck held, and they cast off from Markland around the time of the feast of Mary Magdalen, as they thought, for Oskar carried a stick calendar that he had made the previous winter. And they had good weather and rowed vigorously, and by this time Oskar was already counting his sons and daughters.
After some days it happened that some of the men sighted flocks of birds off in the distance, and Oskar thought that he was close to Greenland indeed, and as Herjolfsnes is the first stopping place in Greenland, he began to brag about how he would row into the harborage at Kalf’s steading and throw the furs on the ground in front of the old man, and then claim his wife, but as he was speaking, the birds all disappeared, and within moments a great storm blew up, a storm such as would swamp a ship, much less an open boat that should have been used for coasting from farmstead to farmstead among the fjords of the eastern settlement. The little boat shipped a great deal of water, and the men were often in fear of their lives, and it happened that Osmund, who was indeed prepared, raised his voice in prayer both to the Lord and the Virgin, and also to St. Nikolaus, who once saved a boatload of sailors and since has often interceded for them. And so Osmund rowed and prayed and prayed and rowed, and after some time, the storm died down, but indeed, there was no sign of
land, and none of the men recognized anything, for there was nothing to recognize, only open sea and the occasional iceberg. And so they drifted and rowed for many days, and their supply of water began to run low, and with his lips now parched, Osmund raised his voice in prayer again.
Now Oskar lamented his fate, and began to blame Oddny and declared that her hand was little worth such a trial. After a few days, and when they were in great fear of their lives, they awakened one morning to discover that they had drifted within sight of land—great black cliffs and green valleys. And this land was Borgarfjord in the west of Iceland, and they were not a little glad to see it, and they took up their oars with renewed strength, though they were greatly debilitated by their journey, and they rowed into Borgarfjord.
It happened that the farmer who controlled much of the land along the southern shores of Borgarfjord was a man named Elias Egilsson, and he and his folk came down to the fjord to greet the newcomers. And when Elias Egilsson the Icelander saw the open boat, he was not a little amazed at the journey the Greenlanders had undertaken, and he doubted their words, but when Oskar, in his brash way, began to lift out the furs he had gotten in Markland and show them off, Elias Egilsson was seized by greed, for indeed he saw that the eighteen Greenlanders were much weakened by hunger, and from their tale he knew that it would be assumed that they had been lost at sea. He could take the furs, which were tied up in bundles, and declare that they had washed ashore on his strand, and he therefore had the rights over them. And so he told his servants to say nothing of the coming of these visitors. But to the visitors he showed nothing but open hospitality, and all of the Greenlanders were taken in, and congratulated themselves on their luck. All except Osmund Thordarson, who saw at once that Elias was planning to tempt them with food until they had eaten themselves sick and then kill them all in their beds. And so Osmund only ate a little and pretended to eat and drink more, but actually passed his meat between his legs to the dogs under the table. And the rest of the Greenlanders were greatly undone by intoxicating drink, which Greenlanders are unaccustomed to.
Now all the men went to their benches for sleep, if they could indeed make it, so drunk were they, and Osmund went too, and pretended to sleep, but when all was quiet, he slipped out of his blankets, only bunching them up to look like a sleeping person, and he hid in a corner near the stacks of furs. Some while later, the door of the guest house opened quietly, and men entered, with Elias at their head. And as Elias was tiptoeing toward Oskar with his ax raised, Osmund sank far back into the dark, put a cup with a broken-out bottom to his mouth, and let out a great howl, using the broken cup to change and draw out the music so that it sounded like the wailing of a spirit. Elias hesitated, for he was somewhat afraid of spirits. The howling stopped. The Greenlanders, far gone in drink, only shifted in their sleep. Elias raised his ax again, and Osmund began to howl again, this time louder, as if he were calling across the fjord in the wind, so loud that he thought that his voice would give out, but indeed, he howled so loudly and so inhumanly long, that Elias was convinced that there was a spirit present in the room, and he dropped his ax and left.
In the morning, when Oskar woke up, Osmund related what had happened to him, and Oskar was much put out. That evening it was apparent to everyone that Elias hoped to try again, for he pressed food and drink upon the Greenlanders with unstinting generosity. But this time all of the Greenlanders did as Osmund had done, and only pretended to fall over in a stupor at the proper time. They went to their sleeping benches, and when all was quiet they moved off, and gathered in the shadows around the walls of the hall and waited. When Elias and his servants entered sometime later, they fell upon them and beat them, and Oskar, as a punishment, put a thong around Elias’ neck and strung him up over the roof beam for a time, not killing him but hurting him very badly. And after this the Greenlanders were in possession of Elias’ steading for the rest of the winter, and it happened that the next spring Oskar went looking for his relations in the western fjords of Iceland, for he was a rich man and a show-off, and he became acquainted with a wealthy widow who was a second cousin of his, and she persuaded him to stay with her in Iceland, and he did so. The others, including Osmund, took ship to Norway, where they sold their portion of the furs and found passage back to Greenland, and after these exploits, Osmund Thordarson was a rich man with a great reputation for cleverness, and it was true that he knew the laws very well, almost until the end of his life.
And when this tale was finished, the company had arrived at Gardar, where it looked as though the booths of the whole settlement were arrayed about the Thing field. The pile of weapons, for men lay down their weapons at the Thing to ensure that there will be no fighting, was large and impressive.
One of Eyvind’s daughters, Anna, was pretty and well spoken, although slight. Eyvind found her a husband on the first day, and he was a man from Dyrnes, not rich but not poor. “Most important,” said Eyvind, “not an Isafjord man,” and Anna was happy enough, for this fellow, whose name was Ulf, was a young man to boot.
For many years now, the Thing judges had had little work to do, for the bishop, or Sira Jon, or Bjorn Einarsson, or the Greenlanders in their own districts had decided cases and dispensed punishments. But now it seemed to some powerful men in the largest districts that certain benefits of the Thing assemblies that had once gone unremarked upon, such as the opportunity to view prospective brides, or to trade goods, or to make plans for the seal hunts and the reindeer hunt, had come to be distinctly missed. Bjorn Bollason the new lawspeaker was one such, and he had gathered about himself a few other powerful folk who thought the same way, and who had sent messengers about to call people to the Thing. Outside of the booths of these men, tables of food were set up, and all who cared to were invited to partake, and usually while a man was eating, one of these men, perhaps even Bjorn Bollason himself, might begin speaking idly about this or that, but always ended up speaking about how the Greenlanders might dispose of their cases before the next bishop should arrive. And these men were strongly in favor of moving the Thing back to Brattahlid as in early days, and taking power out of the hands of the bishopric, at least until it should happen that another bishop should present himself. There was much talk then of Erik the Red and Leif the Lucky and other Greenlanders of the early days and their exploits, and also much talk of how heavily the tithe and the Peter’s pence fell upon farmers these days, since the closing of the Northsetur. A man need only to look about himself at Gardar and see that the place was the richest steading in the settlement already, with the thickest grass and the most elaborate water system and the sleekest cattle and the most sheep and goats. And yet, said Bjorn Bollason, here was where a poor man was expected to come, rowing his little boat with difficulty against the storms of the fjord, risking his boat, if not his life, merely to bring more goods to the spot where the most goods in Greenland were already kept.
And, Bjorn Bollason or one of his friends went on, wasn’t everyone nowadays a more or less poor man? The summer came later every year, more and more cows were carried out of the byre next to dead, the grass grew thinner, the hay crop smaller, the summer shorter every year, and then, in the fall, men went out again, in their small and ramshackle boats, and they caught the reindeer, and paid for them, with not only a tithe, but another fee as well. And at this point, Bjorn Bollason would fall silent, as if thinking, and then begin speaking again about something else, and the result was that there was a great deal of talk at this Thing about how hard conditions were and how magnificent Gardar was and how long it had been (fifteen summers now) since the death of Bishop Alf.
Some of this talk got back to Sira Pall Hallvardsson, and men watched how he took it, expecting him to blaze up and denounce the talkers, for indeed, someone must speak for the Lord, who is jealous of His rightful belongings. But Sira Pall Hallvardsson only smiled, as he usually did, and spoke politely to all men, and the Greenlanders were a little perplexed by this.
Six cases were decided by the T
hing court, and of the thirteen justices that should have sat, ten were present, two having died in the previous year and one having fallen ill, and to fill out the court, Bjorn Bollason named two friends of his from Brattahlid and himself as judges, and in this way he broke with the traditional laws, which state that the lawspeaker shall have no vote on the court, but only sit as an adviser to it on the nature of the law, but Bjorn Bollason made himself head of the court, and made Isleif Isleifsson, who knew the law, the adviser, and so the law was changed. But there was little grumbling, as men were pleased enough to have the Thing busy again after so many years. Bjorn Bollason was a good-looking man and he had a loud, deep voice and a pleasing manner, for he spoke to everyone by name after he had met him one time, and asked after wives and children and servants as if he were an old acquaintance.
Of the six cases, two concerned killings, one concerned stranding rights over driftwood, one concerned a marriage annulment, and two concerned disputes over abandoned farmsteads, and all were decided fairly, in the eyes of most of the Greenlanders, but it was also noticed that Bjorn Bollason depended a great deal upon Isleif Isleifsson for the details of the law. Some folk said that yes, indeed, this was true, and regrettable, but then Isleif had been at Bjorn Bollason’s steading only since Easter, and after another year, he could well have poured more of his knowledge into the neatly made, but apparently empty, vessel of Bjorn Bollason’s head. In general, folk were well satisfied with what they found and what they themselves had to say about it.