During these two days, Kollgrim Gunnarsson went away from Gardar, to Vatna Hverfi district, where he sat about Ketils Stead, but he had little to say to Jon Andres, or to Helga, and looked hardly at all at Gunnhild, although she was a comely babe, and lively and full of smiles. And Helga saw him go off without thinking much of his visit, except that he must be full of sorrow at the death of Egil Kollgrimsson. Kollgrim went back to Gardar, and it happened that he met Steinunn Hrafnsdottir at the cathedral door, as she was going back to her room, and he took her in his arms and embraced her tightly, and it seemed to her that her prayers had been answered, and that her longings were stilled forever.
Now it happened some days later that Thorstein Olafsson the tale-teller and another Icelander by the name of Bork, as well as some servants belonging to Magnus Arnason, came on skis to Gardar to have talk with Sira Pall Hallvardsson, and also to carry back to Magnus’ steading some belongings of Thorstein’s and Bork’s that they had left behind. There was now just enough snow on the ground for this skiing, but the going was difficult, and took longer than Thorstein and Bork had expected, and so when they arrived, late in the evening, they were hungry and full of annoyance.
The servants at Gardar had gone off to their bedclosets, and Thorstein and Bork, who was a loud, unrestrained fellow, began walking about the cathedral and the residence, shouting and beating upon the doors, until one of the servingmen got up and let them in. Then it was the case that they demanded food, and so the cook, a woman named Una, got up and began to put some things together. While she was doing this, Thorstein went out of the priest’s house to relieve himself in the privy, and it happened that he went out by the door nearest the chamber occupied by Steinunn Hrafnsdottir, and he heard noises coming from this chamber, namely the cries and moanings of a woman, and he paused and listened for a moment through the door. Then he went outside and did his business, and returned. The sounds had died down, and he thought not of them for a while. After eating, he and Bork and Magnus Arnason’s servants went off to their rest, and all awakened late in the morning, after the day’s work had already begun.
Bork and Thorstein were not anxious to begin the return journey to Vatna Hverfi district, simply because the skiing was so ill, and so they walked about the Gardar fields after they had their morning meat, putting off their errands, and chatting about this and that. Now it was the case that they saw a man down the hillside, dressed in thick furs, doing something among the boats that had been drawn up on the strand and turned over for the winter, and Thorstein saw that this man was Kollgrim Gunnarsson, and so he watched him closely, for it was the case that Thorstein thought highly of Sigrid Bjornsdottir, and often wondered to himself about this fellow Kollgrim, whom the girl had been all set to marry before he, Thorstein, came along.
The fact was that Thorstein didn’t think much of Kollgrim. He was tall enough and well-enough looking, but he had none of the talents that please folk when they are sitting about the steading in the winter, and so was fairly useless, it seemed to Thorstein, but it was also the case that he drew folk’s eyes, and caused them to consider him when they would rather consider something more pleasant, and so Thorstein looked upon Kollgrim, and considered him, when he would rather have been considering something else. It came to him to wonder, in fact, whether the fellow had tupped the young heifer in the course of their betrothal, for Sigrid, as all folk knew, was allowed a great deal of freedom in her coming and going, and in every other way, as well, and so such a thing was certainly possible. Once this thought had come to Thorstein, he could not get it out of his mind, and he stared at Kollgrim until Bork shook him and led him off.
Now the day went on, and Steinunn Hrafnsdottir came out of her room and went into the great hall of the residence, and there she encountered Thorstein Olafsson, who was continuing to put off his departure, and he was as surprised to see her as she was to see him, for he had not known that she was at Gardar. She greeted him kindly, and stepped forward and took his hand, but he saw that she reddened to the roots of her hair, and cast her eyes about as much as she looked upon him, and the thought of Kollgrim Gunnarsson tupping Sigrid Bjornsdottir came into his mind, and after he had had a few moments of talk with Steinunn, and she had gone off to do some weaving, he went to Bork, and declared that they would stay another night, and leave early the next morning.
Now Steinunn sat at her weaving, and she could hardly lift her hands to grasp the shuttle, for she saw that the presence of Thorstein Olafsson must put off any meetings with Kollgrim, but indeed, it seemed to her that these meetings were so necessary to her peace of mind that to put them off would be insupportable, and as she thought of these things, her longings, which had been quiet enough before seeing Thorstein, rose up and battered her, so that it was not enough to meet him later in the afternoon, as she had planned, but she must see him right now, and speak to him, and touch his sleeve, his arm, lay her head upon his breast, entwine her fingers with his. And she put her hands down and grasped her bench to prevent herself from rising up and running to where she knew he was, which was down by the strand, sorting his snares. And so she sat, gripping her bench and staring at the unfinished weaving in the great Gardar loom.
Now it came to her that Thorstein had seen the mark of sin upon her, for it is said that this is readily visible to men of astute vision, and certainly Thorstein had that reputation, and now Steinunn became curious to know what she looked like, and she looked down at her robe, and saw that it lay smoothly across her belly and breasts. And she felt her headdress, and felt that it was neatly arranged, and she was somewhat relieved, and grew convinced that all things could be hidden within, at least from the sight of men. Was not Thorgrim assured of her pleasure in his caresses, even though she took none? But now she recalled how her face had grown hot when first she laid her eyes upon Thorstein, and how her hand had trembled, just a bit, when she put it into his, and how she had looked about the Gardar hall rather than into his face, and it was hard to know what he would make, if anything, of these signs, or indeed, what the servants, who knew him from the previous winter, would say to him. Now her flesh chilled and hardened at this thought, and her breath left her, for she had been careless about the servingfolk, and at Gardar they were everywhere. She had been careless of everything, in fact, except of seeing Kollgrim, for he had filled her mind and driven out all other thoughts. It seemed to her that he could save her from these consequences that she was turning over in her mind, and the urge to run to where he was was nearly uncontrollable, but then it seemed to her that nothing could save her from them, and she sat still on her bench.
It happened then that Sira Pall Hallvardsson came into the hall and asked Steinunn if she was warm enough, for she appeared to be blanched with the cold, and she said, “I was occupied with my thoughts, and I did not notice the cold, but now that you speak of it, it seems to me that I am chilled to the bone.”
He took off his cloak, which was of sealskin, and placed it around her, and as he did this, she began to shiver under his touch. He sat down beside her on the weaving bench and smiled upon her, and she clutched the sealskin cloak about her shoulders, but indeed, it seemed to her that she was chilled, not with the Greenland winter that folk made so much of, but with the frost of sin, and this cold sat in her bones and floated out of her and chilled the room, the hall, the world itself. Sira Pall Hallvardsson’s kindly smile offered to warm her as the sun warms the green hillside, and news of her sin came into her mouth. She saw that prayers had been no relief, but instead had brought her to thinking upon her desires without ceasing. It seemed to her a clear and simple act, to confess that she was an adulteress, and ask forgiveness, and abase herself before the priest, the Lord, the Icelanders, and the Greenlanders. Such words as she needed were simply formed, and he was waiting for them, rubbing his knee with his hand, as she had noticed he often did, his old head, nearly bald, cocked quizzically. Such tidings as she had to tell him he made seem like a gift that he longed to receive. Surely it was a gif
t that she longed to give. She touched his hand, the one that was rubbing his knee, with her finger, and turned her eyes to his, but at the end, she could not divide herself from Kollgrim. Were she to speak these words that hung on her lips, it came to her that she would never see nor speak to Kollgrim again, not feel his presence nor move under the touch of his hand nor know the weight of his gaze. Most of all, he would never again carry to her the peace of mind that she craved, and that he never failed to give her. And so it happened that she swallowed her words, put her hand in her lap, and smiled as women do when they are open and free of deceit. Sira Pall sat with her in silence for some little while, then a servingmaid came to him with a message from the cook, about meat for Sira Jon, and he went off. And so it was that all was lost.
Now Thorstein went to one of the servingmaids, with whom he had been friendly in the previous winter, and he asked her where the woman Steinunn might have her chamber, and the servingmaid pointed out the chamber where Thorstein had listened at the door the previous evening, and now Thorstein said, “And where does the Vatna Hverfi fellow, Kollgrim Gunnarsson, have his chamber?” And the girl glanced up at him, and smiled slightly, and said, “Nay, sir, Kollgrim has no chamber here,” and from this Thorstein knew all he needed to know, and toward dusk he went up the hillside, taking Bork with him, and it was his plan to find Thorgrim Solvason and Snorri Torfason and bring them back with him to Gardar.
Also toward dusk, Kollgrim Gunnarsson went away from Gardar in another direction, around the bottom of the fjord and up the side of the big mountain, called Bishops Fell, that stands above Gardar to the east. He was intending to lay some snares for ptarmigan, and gather them up the next morning, and take them, with some other meat, to Gunnars Stead, for he rather feared for Elisabet Thorolfsdottir. It happened, however, that as Kollgrim climbed the mountain, he was overtaken with a great fatigue, and the desire to lie down and sleep possessed him, and so he did so, and he dreamed the following dream:
A man was sitting beside a small booth that had been pitched in a great icefield, and he had with him some weapons—two or three fine spears and a bow with some bird arrows. He also had an ax, but this ax was in poor shape, with the handle broken and the blade almost rusted away. The man sat very still, and looked off into the whiteness, and he did not wear a hood against snow blindness. Now it happened in Kollgrim’s dream that a group of seals came out of the water, and began moving toward the man with that great swishing and flapping noise that seals make, and that reverberates across the ice. The man sat up straight and brought his weapons near to his hands, for he intended to kill some seals for winter meat. The seals came closer and closer, in a great group, many at the front and many more behind, and the man thought how easy it would be to kill any number he cared to have, and he was very pleased with himself. The seals drew closer. As they neared him, and he saw their faces, the man saw that the seals had the smiles of men, and that they were not seals, but the souls of drowned men, and the man knew that it was great ill luck to kill any such seals, and so he put his weapons away from him, and vowed to do no harm. But still the seals came on, and drew closer to him, and did not swerve to avoid him, so he stood up and waved his arms at them, and now the dream changed, and the man was underneath the seals, and they were eating the flesh off his bones, though his arms and legs still flailed about, showing that the life was still in him. And after this dream, Kollgrim awakened, and looked about, and saw that it was completely dark, except for the light of the stars in the arctic sky, and he thought to set his snares, as he had planned, for as a rule, he thought little of dreams. But after such a dream, the taking of game seemed distasteful to him, and so he turned down the mountain, and sought the chamber of Steinunn Hrafnsdottir, and she was much gratified to receive him.
Always it was a pleasure to Steinunn simply to sit in the presence of Kollgrim Gunnarsson, for silence seemed to be his natural state, and this silence flowed over her like a balm, especially after the sting of desire had been eased. But on this evening, there was another quality to the silence, the quality of something withheld rather than of everything given, and Steinunn found herself fidgeting after him—touching his arm more than she meant to, or putting her hand in his hair, as if to draw his attention toward her, when she had never had to make this gesture before, and she was much cast down by this, for she saw that in the space of the day, what she had sought to keep for herself through sin and deceit had been lost anyway, and she went off from him, and sat by herself on the edge of the bedcloset, and he did not follow her, but sat abstracted and deep in thought. Now she put off her shoes and pulled on her bed socks, and climbed into the bedcloset, and lay there without speaking for a long while, and it happened that the small seal oil lamp that had been illuminating the chamber went out, and the chamber grew dark.
Sometime after this, Steinunn heard Kollgrim stand up from his stool, and begin to remove his shirt and reindeer hide boots. Then she heard his footsteps approach across the stones and the rushes of the floor, and then she sensed his presence, and felt his hand in the straw, and then upon her, upon her shoulder, and as he climbed into the bedcloset with her, he said, “My Steinunn, I have had a dream, and I wish for you to interpret it for me, for I know little of such things,” and he told her the dream that had come to him on the mountainside, and she lay for a long while after that, turning the dream over in her mind, and finally she said, “My Kollgrim, it seems to me that this dream predicts your death, and that these creatures were not seals with the smiles of men, but men with the shapes of seals. It is not in the wastelands that you will find your death, but among men, and it also seems to me that you should go in haste right now, and leave this chamber and this steading, and seek Gunnars Stead. That is how I interpret your dream.” But Kollgrim made no reply, nor did he release the woman that he held in his arms, but instead gripped her more tightly and she him, and they lay there in perfect silence for most of the night.
It happened that the sounds of newcomers came to the ears of Kollgrim Gunnarsson as the snufflings of hares in the snow would come to him, noises that would go unheard by others, and so he kissed Steinunn Hrafnsdottir upon the lips, and slipped out of the bedcloset and put on his long shirt, then he took up his weapons and sat down on the stool that was in the room. There was no light, only the clamor of men approaching, and then of the door being beaten upon, and falling inward with a crash. Light came into the room, and the faces of the Icelanders, eager to see what could be seen, and they saw that Kollgrim was fully armed and ready, with a sharp ax and a dagger. His bow and sets of arrows, for birds and hares and foxes, lay behind him with some spears.
Thorstein carried a sword and Thorgrim his ax. They stopped and looked about the room, and at length, Thorgrim said, “Where is the whore?”
“Steinunn Hrafnsdottir lies in the bedcloset.”
“It is permitted in law,” said Bjorn Bollason, “for the husband to kill you, Kollgrim Gunnarsson.”
“He may try to do it,” said Kollgrim. “It is not written in the law, I’ll warrant, that I may not try to kill him, as well. My father’s uncle, Hauk Gunnarsson, was a great bear killer in the Northsetur, it is said. A man is smaller than a bear. I have never killed a man before, but I am ready to do it.”
“There are six of us,” said Bjorn Bollason.
“But you are my father’s sworn friend,” said Kollgrim. “I do not think that you or most of these folk have the stomach to do it, and I do not think the others have the prowess to escape unscathed. Thorgrim Solvason, you should have asked yourself whether being cuckolded was preferable to being killed. Many folk consider that it is.” He picked up his ax. “At any rate, Bolli should be off to fetch the priest, for some of us need to be shriven now, and no man can say who that might be.” Bolli looked to Bjorn, but Bjorn looked not at him, for indeed, as always, he did not quite know what to do. Now Snorri the shipmaster spoke up. “Not every plan goes aright the first time, and this plan seems to me doomed. Our blood is not so hot as
it was in the passage, and men need hot blood for fighting. But there are ways, when blood has cooled, for punishing those who sin without care. It seems to me that for now it is best to take the woman to her sister and let the cock go off to his own coop. But these doings are not finished as yet.” And so, while Kollgrim sat upon the stool, Thorgrim and Bork went to the bedcloset, and brought forth Steinunn Hrafnsdottir, who was pliant, but nearly insensible, and could not stand or sit, and had to be carried off in the arms of her husband; indeed, she could not even hold her arms around his neck. After these folk left, Kollgrim went off on his skis to Vatna Hverfi district, and stayed there for the rest of the winter, until nearly Easter.
It seemed to Thorunn Hrafnsdottir that her sister had been bewitched, for she could neither speak nor lift her hands, but only lay in her bedcloset with her eyes half closed. The broth that was spooned between her lips ran out the sides of her mouth. If she was pinched or slapped, she winced not, nor showed any pain. Neither Thorunn nor Signy had ever seen such a thing, except that Thorunn had heard of a child in Hordaland and another man in Borgarfjord in Iceland, who had had these spells put over them by witches, and they spoke frequently of such things—for indeed, said Thorunn, the priests in Norway were much concerned with witches and sorcery and devilish practices. Through talking, Signy and Thorunn became convinced that Steinunn had been bewitched, for otherwise her actions were unaccountable, they agreed. Thorstein half agreed with them, as well, for he had gone about among the Norwegians for a number of winters, and had himself heard numerous tales of these sorts of practices, done in secret. Besides, he told the women, how else would such a fellow as Kollgrim Gunnarsson make himself attractive to a woman such as Steinunn, whose husband was a respectable man, handsome and personable and talkative, as well as prosperous and well-mannered? Now Signy took issue with this, and maintained that Kollgrim was a fine Greenlandic man, with a good farmstead and many skills, but the others dismissed her opinion, for indeed, she had been in favor of Sigrid’s marriage to the fellow, had she not? Sigrid herself had been sent with Margret Asgeirsdottir to Dyrnes, to her uncle’s steading, along with the two younger boys, so that the sight of Steinunn Hrafnsdottir would not weigh upon their spirits too much.