Saga - Chapter 28, Part 2
For content, rating, A/Ns and disclaimers, see the chapter’s part 1.
The day after his return home Einnis exited his room in the early morning hours and came into the hall slowly, looking like a ghost - but acting like the ghost of the farm’s master. Without talking to anyone, he sat down in the High Seat and forced down the breakfast porridge and the strained sour milk that the servant woman put before him on the table, her eyes averted and her motions nervous. Then he called for Svein.
That first day they went through every house together; barn, byre, stable, animal sheds and storage houses, in order to determine the situation. They spent the day carefully taking stock of what Arna had left behind, and what the farm would need replenished and replaced in order to keep going. Einnis spoke very little and said not a single word that did not have to do with the farm. Svein glanced at the master furtively now and then, but Einnis’s bleakly forbidding look stopped him from asking questions, offering his sympathy, or indeed from speaking up at all.
As they walked about, Einnis on occasion would reach out to touch farm implements, his finger sliding along the ancient wood in the storage bins, the plough and sleighs and carved poles. It was as if he needed to imprint all of it on his mind, committing them to memory using as many of his senses as possible.
Not until evening-time did Einnis walk over to the thrall’s house to see Freidis. His daughter’s wet-nurse Tekla was clearly frightened by his appearance, but handed him the little girl and sat down to the side, eying the two of them wordlessly, and hugging her son, a fine boy of close to two years.
Einnis looked down into the contented little face of his daughter. She had grown in the short weeks since he saw her last, and was smiling up at him, obviously safe and happy and well cared for. Einnis held her and rocked her for a while, his face inscrutable, an expressionless mask. As he gave his little girl back to Tekla, he looked at the wall behind her and spoke in a rusty voice. “I can see that you continue to care well for my daughter. Thank you.”
With that he turned and left, and went straight to bed in the bare and empty room where no-one stayed now except him, - him and the memories of those that once belonged there but who now were gone for good.
Einnis didn’t speak to anyone except Svein. As the days wore on he looked almost as if he was sleep-walking around his own farm. His face was blank, his hollow eyes distant and dull; there was no spring to his steps, and no life in his movements. Nevertheless he wasted no time in deciding what to do and carrying the decisions through.
The people at the farm, from Svein to the lowliest thrall, by and by calmed down. Despite his forbidding mood they felt comforted by Einnis’s handling of the crisis, reassured that life at the farm would go on in proper forms. Nevertheless there was much speculation, and many hushed whispers. Servants and thralls alike argued back and forth over the possible reasons Arna might have had for divorcing her husband so abruptly. Arna had been a well liked and well respected mistress, capable and fair. For her to behave so decisively her husband had to have committed a truly heinous act. They debated whether he would go to the ting to contest the divorce or not, and a few secret bets were placed. Tongues set to wagging as soon as Einnis was out of sight.
Several times when Einnis entered the hall or the yard, everyone present would suddenly fall silent and avert their eyes. Each time he squared his shoulders and walked on by, staring ahead, face pale. One time when loud laughter suddenly floated through the air from the cow-shed just as Einnis was crossing from the stable, he visibly winced and involuntarily ducked his head. But he set his jaw, straightened his back, and kept walking.
The farm needed new pigs, freshly brewed ale and more milking cows. Milk provided the staple for most everyday meals at the farm - sour milk, skyr, cheeses, butter - and they couldn’t manage with the few animals Arna had left behind.
Einnis went alone out into the woods behind the farm and dug up his hidden box of silver coins and broken jewelry. He had placed it there himself upon return from his summer of raiding, his purpose to ensure that no matter what misfortune the gods might send, he and his family would never be completely destitute. He sent Svein and several of the farm’s free-men down the valley with the silver to buy ale, cows and pigs at the neighboring farms.
Einnis himself avoided contact with the neighbors and did not leave the farm, except that he rode off to Einstad, and there briefly spoke to his in-laws, Torgeirr’s sister Jorunn and her husband Ottar Kvite. What was said between those three no-one else knew for sure, and Einnis didn’t linger at his own smaller farm for more than a few hours. He brought home a flock of his sheep and goats, two good milking cows and a thrall from Einstad.
They were in the important weeks now of high summer. Haying was about to begin, the customary late-summer blot would be next, and then it would be harvest-time, with more than enough work for every hand. The year’s cycle was running its even course, and so far all the signs were good. The grass in the outfields stood lush and green, the grain harvest looked promising, and animals in fields and sheds were fine and healthy, their young ones growing day by day. Luck seemed still to follow Einnis where his farm was concerned, and this appeased everyone there.
Only Einnis seemed not to be thriving. It was obvious to all at the farm that he was not sleeping well, and he remained as taciturn as ever. No-one had seen him smile since his return from the south. They followed him with wary, concerned and curious eyes - the frequent talk about the divorce did not abate, but it was mixed now with worries over the master’s health and the clan’s future.
One evening Einnis walked about on the farm, once more looking everything over, moving slowly and pensively as if in a world apart. He stopped as before at the thralls’ house to hold little Freidis for a spell, watched her crawl around on the floor, and spoke privately for a while with Tekla. Then he moved on to the stable. Making sure that he was alone, he noiselessly climbed up to feel along the top of the beam above his horse’s stall. He found what he was searching for; a raven’s feather, placed there several years ago when he moved down from Einstad, and long hidden from view.
Carefully blowing on the feather to remove dust and debris from its smooth black silk, making it shimmer anew, he let the tip of his index finger slide along the shiny length. Emotion kindled and flared in his eyes for a moment as he looked at this secret and humble treasure. He hid it inside his tunic, tucked against his chest, and moved quietly on to the hall. There he collected a large bowl of ale.
Einnis walked back out into the summer evening, across the yard and through the gate towards his ancestors’ barrows. The sun had dipped behind the mountains to the west, but the subdued day still held on to the light. Long bluish shadows were reaching out over the fields, stretching across the valley and off into the distance. A pleasant warm glow lingered in the calm air. Distant laughter could be heard from one of the fields, and there were some whinnies followed by the noise of horses trotting about in the paddock near the stable, but otherwise the evening was quiet and peaceful.
The birds were no longer chirping and trilling in the copses and fields. They had finished courting and mating, and had raised their young. Song was a redundant luxury now in their short and hectic lives.
Einnis stopped in front of Einnis Everwake’s barrow, and remained standing there, looking at the long green grasses and bright flowers covering it. The ancient mound looked the same as always, and its occupant seemed to be sleeping undisturbed. With a barely perceptible sigh Einnis bent down to carefully place the bowl of ale at the barrow’s base, righting himself slowly. After a brief moment he started speaking out loud, his low voice earnest.
“My ancestors, I have disappointed you, and the clan. I have shamed you, and myself. I cannot fulfill my vow that I took when I ascended the High Seat. The farm has been weakened and the clan’s dignity lessened. I have lost honor that can never fully be restored. People look at me and laugh now, talk behind my back like they know.” He sighed again. “I am sorry that I have failed you. I have done my best to set things right. Now there is nothing left than I can do, except to leave, and to promise that one day soon I will die with honor. I will not give men further cause to jeer.”
Einnis paused to draw a slightly shuddering breath, but his voice was firm when he continued. “I have given the clan two daughters. Please look after them and grant them long lives. Hopefully they will succeed where I failed. I ask you my ancestors to care for their luck and prosperity when I cannot do so - and in exchange I will give you this…“ His voice broke as he dipped his right hand into his tunic to fish out the raven’s feather, warm and slightly moist from lying against his bare skin. He glanced at it quickly, kissed it once, and placed it under the sacrificial ale bowl, bending his head and closing his eyes. “It is all I have to offer. Everything I can give. I hope that this is enough, and that you will require no further sacrifice from any other, and exact no vengeance on….”
He stood for a little while longer, barely breathing, listening to the silence, to his own defeated heartbeat and the faint rush of evening breezes slipping unseen through the mounds’ grasses. His hand rose to clasp the small silver Tor’s hammer at his neck. Perhaps he was waiting for an answer or a sign, but there was none. One single whispered word escaped his lips like a prayer. “Please….”
Eventually he turned and went back through the gate into the shadowed courtyard, and from then on straight to bed, closing the door to his dark and lonely room firmly behind himself.
---
The next day Einnis gathered all the people of the farm, temporarily left the task of master to Svein and the task of mistress to the servant woman who had filled in for Arna since she left, thanked everyone for their service and loyalty to the clan through the years, assured them of the clan’s continuance and asked for their care for the farm and their patience till the new mistress could take over.
“My daughter Arna is my heiress, and one day she will be the mistress of this farm. The clan’s future rests with her, and with her sister. Till then I am leaving you in the hands of my sister Sigrid and my brother-in-law Torgeirr Haraldson, who you all know to be resourceful, courageous, wise, and generous. They will decide what is to be done here and see to it that this farm is always properly kept and well defended. To them I will also entrust the fostering of my daughter Freidis.” Einnis stood for a moment, gathering his thoughts, looking into the distance above everyone’s heads. His shoulders slumped, and he nodded. “May the powers be benevolent to you all, and the Norns grant you good fates.”
Soon thereafter, when everyone was still standing about, too stunned to speak much or to dare voice objections or questions, Einnis rode out of the yard and away from the farm, staring straight ahead, his face carefully neutral, a strangely agonized relief in his eyes. He rode fully armed, and was followed by one of his armed free-men, Tekla, her common-law husband, their little son and Freidis.
Einnis rode steadily southwards, leaving his old life and all its joys and sorrows, its duties and longings, its crushed hopes and broken promises behind. He did not once look back.
Tbc…..
Notes and explanations;
Norse leech-craft - Men with abdominal wounds were made to drink onion soup in order to ascertain whether their intestines had been punctured. If so, the wound would smell of onions. There was leech-craft enough among the Vikings for men to survive quite serious wounds (and many men apparently suffered sword wounds in the course of their lives). My oft-trusted Laxdoela saga tells of a man named Aan, who was maimed in a battle to the point that his intestines were actually hanging out of his wound while he fought on, - he survived and made a full recovery.
Taking legal responsibility / paying fines - even when acting in self-defense it was required that a man who killed or maimed someone should announce the matter publicly. If he did not, he might be deemed responsible for manslaughter. Fines were the main punishment under Norse laws. If vengeance beyond that was to be exacted, each clan had to arrange it for themselves.
Tyr - Ancient god of war and battles. He had lost importance by the time of the Viking era. Tyr had only one hand, as the other was bitten off by the Fenris wolf, one of the monsters who will bring about the end of the world, Ragnarok.
Hidden cache of silver - Several such finds of viking-time caches of jewelry (frequently broken), foreign coins and other valuables have been found buried or otherwise hidden away around Scandinavia. They are the main source of jewelry finds. It’s believed these caches were hidden when the owner had to flee or was attacked - or sometimes perhaps they were offerings to the gods and powers.
Skyr, and milk products - Skyr is a dairy product that resembles strained yogurt, technically a very soft cheese, made from raw milk. It has always been popular in Iceland and a huge part of everyday consumption, but recently new variations with fruit flavoring etc. have been made available and become popular, also outside of Iceland. Cow milk and all the products made from milk were very important in the Norse cuisine, and at times a farm’s size was measured by how many cows it supported. The reconstructed farm at Stong, Iceland, which was originally abandoned after the eruption of the volcano Mt. Hekla in AD 1104, (and since then well-preserved under a layer of volcanic ash) had its own dairy wing and large vats for milk processing. http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3627/3370130487_f3bb6dcd7c.jpg
The Norse ancestor “cult” in relation to the grave barrows was further explained in the notes to chapter 13.