The Saga of Colm the Slave (21 page)

Gwyneth watched all this happen and when
Gunnora refused Thrain, she felt a rush of respect for the woman
and was pleased that she had never voiced a bad opinion of her.
Still, Gwyneth did not warm to Gunnora and kept distant from
her.

Thrain married about two years later.
His wife was named Stein-Unn and she came from a neighboring area.
Stein-Unn had a hare-lip but she brought a large dowry. Some of the
women sneered that, if they had birthed Stein-Unn, they would have
exposed her. Gwyneth kept her thoughts to herself, but she visited
Stein-Unn from time to time and was friendly toward her.

Gunnora, too, was contemptuous of
Stein-Unn and of Thrain for marrying her. She herself never
remarried. Many of the women suspected that she was sleeping with
their husbands. Gunnora never bragged about her conquests, but when
she spoke with other women her superior smile always held a trace
of mockery. So she took a certain place among the women but, except
for her children, she was alone.

16. Ingveld’s Illness

At the Autumn Sacrifice, Gwyneth noticed
that Ingveld did not look well. She spoke to her friend who
shrugged, “I am getting old. We all fade with time.” Ingveld
laughed, then leaned in toward Gwyneth and whispered, “Come visit
me where we can talk privately.”

So, a week or so later, Gwyneth made her
way over to Ingveld’s farm. Thurid was in the yard, busy with some
task or other, and greeted Gwyneth with a great smile. Gwyneth
smiled back, always glad to see this child who brightened
everything around her, at least in Gwyneth’s eyes.

Thurid ran up to her and took her arm.
“Oh, Mother, I am so glad to see you! Did you know, there is a new
litter of kittens? They are so cute! And my calf, Frey-Hyrna, will
be in season soon and will be bred.” She prattled on and Gwyneth
allowed herself to be drawn toward the house, bouyed up by the
child’s energy.

Groa poked her head from the door to an
outbuilding and greeted Gwyneth. Then she called Thurid over,
saying that she had a chore for her to do. “Yes, Mother.” Thurid
ran over to her and Groa looked at Gwyneth over the child’s head
with a serious expression and tilted her head toward the main
house. Gwyneth realized that Groa was getting the girl out of the
way so that she could a private talk with Ingveld. Gwyneth was
apprehensive as she entered the longhall and walked down to the
stove-room where Ingveld sat up on her woman’s platform, toying
with thread but not actually spinning.

Gwyneth sat down on the platform next to
Ingveld and took her hand. She said nothing but waited until
Ingveld should speak. They sat in silence for a time, then Ingveld
said, “Is Mar around?”

“I did not see him. I suppose he is out
in the fields.”

Ingveld nodded, “So he should be. I just
wanted to make sure.”

“What is it?”

Ingveld sighed. “I am not well. In fact,
I think I am very ill. I have pains in my back and my body has
started to swell.” She held out her hand and Gwyneth noticed that
Ingveld’s fingers were swollen and thick. She looked at Ingveld’s
face and saw that it was rounder than she had last seen it and
puffy-looking.

Gwyneth said, “It’s normal to put on
some weight...”

Ingveld shook her head. “This is not
fat, it is water. I have seen this before, in other women, and men
as well, and it is always fatal, given time.”

“Given time, we shall all come to an
end.” Gwyneth wanted to ease her friend’s mind. She tried to think
of some comforting words.

“I have not much time, I think. I doubt
I will attend the Spring Sacrifice.”

Gwyneth squeezed Ingveld’s hand but she
kept quiet.

“What I want to talk about is the farm,”
said Ingveld.

“All right.”

“I want to be certain Mar has a place to
live after I am gone.”

“No one will turn him out,” said
Gwyneth. She set her mouth. “I will speak to Colm and he will
guarantee it.”

Gwyneth nodded. “All right. And I want
Thurid to have a place here, too, along with Groa.”

“Well, I suppose that can be managed,”
said Gwyneth. “I don’t know what the legalities are, but I don’t
see that either person will be driven away. Some day Thurid will
marry and I suppose she may find a new place but Mar is unlikely to
take up with anyone.”

“Then I ask you to see about how this
might be arranged.” Ingveld paused. “And I ask that Colm protect
this farm and these two people that I love.”

“He will do so,” said Gwyneth firmly. “I
swear it!”

“This is not an easy thing I ask of you.
I know that it may lead to trouble and I do not want to make your
life difficult.”

“There will be no trouble. Colm will see
to it. And I will do anything you ask, easy or not.” Gwyneth began
to cry. The two women comforted one another and then they spoke for
a long time, trying to make plans.

That night, Gwyneth approached Colm and
told him of her pledge to Ingveld. Colm saw that he had to agree.
“It is only just,” he said, “That Mar continue to work the farm.
And of course, there must be provision for Thurid...” He trailed
off, weighing these considerations in his mind. Already he could
see certain problems that might arise. “I need to speak to Mar,” he
said.

“Not yet,” said Gwyneth. “Ingveld
doesn’t want people to treat her like a corpse-in-waiting. Later,
when her sickness has progressed so far that it is obvious, then
talk to him.”

Colm nodded. He was a little dubious
about this scheme, but he saw that the women had decided and that
there was no undoing that. About a month after his talk with
Gwyneth, as winter came on, he had a quiet chat with Thorolf and
Hallvard, letting them know he counted on their backing.

“No one will steal the farm,” said
Thorolf. “I promise that.” His brow furrowed and he pulled at his
grey beard. “No, any problems will come from other places, but I do
not see what we can do about that right now.”

That winter, Ingveld became so swollen
that she could not easily shift her body about. She was in pain all
the time. Mar and Thurid tended her and tried to ease her suffering
but there was little anyone could do for her. Colm tried to talk to
Mar but he was too distracted to listen. It was not until Ingveld’s
final days that he began to think of his own future. Ingveld took
his hand and told him that he would have the farm, along with
Thurid, but that just worried Mar all the more. He had no family or
friends to defend him and he saw that he was dependent on the good
will of others.

After Ingveld was buried, Mar went to
Colm’s farm. “I know what the best solution is to this difficulty,”
he said, “I will marry Thurid.”

Gwyneth gasped. “Oh, no,” she said,
“Thurid is still a child. She is only eleven!”

“Girls have married at that age before,”
said Mar.

Colm said, “This is not the answer.
Listen, you will have that farm until you die and no one will
trouble you about it. I swear this to you, Mar! I will not allow
you to be displaced. And Thorolf and Hallvard are with me on this.
You will have the farm.”

Mar sat with his head bowed. He said
nothing. Colm went on, “You have been Thurid’s father. You cannot
now become her husband.”

“I was never her father. She had too
many mothers for that.”

“Yes,” said Gwyneth, “And now she will
come to live with this mother. And Groa, too.”

Colm was taken aback. Gwyneth had not
told him of this, but he saw at once that it was best to move
Thurid away from Mar. “Yes. I will help you find hands in the
spring, Mar, and someone to look after the house. I think you will
find little difference there.”

Mar said nothing.

Colm said, “What can I do to convince
you that this is the best course?”

Mar had nothing to offer and soon left,
dissatisfied.

So Gwyneth brought Thurid and Groa into
Colm’s household. She loved having the girl about – Geirrid was
almost man’s age now and it seemed to her a long while since there
was a child at the Trollfarm – and she spent quite a lot of time
talking to Groa.

Colm went over to see Mar when he could.
They discussed the herds, the slaves that had belonged to Ingveld –
they went with the farm, said Colm, and Thorolf agreed. This was
shaky legal ground but none of the slaves could sue about it. Colm
could see that Gwyneth was working on her own plan as well. He said
nothing but hoped that she would give him some warning before
putting it into effect.

One day, Gwyneth said, “Groa went over
to see Mar today.”

“What about?”

“About marriage. She is old enough to
speak for herself in these matters.”

“But she is a slave,” said Colm.

“Why, no,” said Gwyneth. She looked at
Colm with wide eyes. “Ingveld freed her at the end. Don’t you
remember?”

Colm remembered that Ingveld had been so
distracted and confused at the end that she had said little that
was coherent. He sighed. “I suppose she would have freed Groa if
she had thought clearly.”

“There,” said Gwyneth, “I knew you would
remember.” Colm sighed again. Gwyneth said, “I suppose we could
make some contribution to Groa’s dowry, too. At least, that is what
I told her.” This time Colm did not sigh, but only nodded in dumb
silence.

Groa made several visits to Mar and
began staying overnight. One day they announced that they were wed.
“Well,” said Gwyneth, “I think you could have allowed us all the
pleasure of a celebration.”

“We are too old for that,” said Groa.
“We celebrate every day the fact that we have life left to live.”
Groa was somewhere around thirty-five years old. She might be older
or younger than that; no one paid much attention to a slave’s
birthday. Mar was about fifty. The two got on well and Mar lost the
pinched look about the eyes that he had developed after Ingveld’s
death.

Thurid remained at the Trollfarm. After
a time, Colm and Gwyneth asked to foster her. They made a formal
request of Mar and Groa together, acknowledging them as the girl’s
parents. Usually children were fostered by people of lesser birth.
Three of these people were ex-slaves, but Colm and Gwyneth had
enough stature so no one mentioned that. So this arrangement was
still unusual. Groa said to Gwyneth, “You are already Thurid’s
mother.”

Gwyneth said, “You bore her and are her
true mother, Groa. Everyone knows that. But I love her and wish to
have as much of her as I can.” Groa wept a little and Gwyneth
embraced her.

Mar told Colm, “You are already the
girl’s protector.”

“And yours, Mar. I have pledged to keep
you and this farm and this girl safe. I mean to honor that pledge
but this is another nail to fasten things together so that everyone
may understand the relationships here.”

“I am in your debt.”

“No, I am in yours, for you have
provided my wife with a child that gladdens her heart.”

“Not so much my child.”

“Every bit! And I am pleased and humble
that you allow me to share that fatherhood.”

So Thurid was fostered by Colm and
Gwyneth and spent about half the year at the Trollfarm. Most seemed
pleased with the way events turned out though no one asked Geirrid
what he thought of having a new sister. He said nothing about the
matter and things seemed happy and steady for a time.

17. The Amber Pendant

Geirrid’s beard began to come in.
Sometimes his mother caught him looking into a mirror and rubbing
the sparse hairs on his chin. Gwyneth tried not to embarrass the
boy but she was amused. She was amused but she also felt a pang in
her heart at the thought of her child growing up.

Geirrid began paying more attention to
his appearance. He wore colored clothes when he could and kept them
clean. He combed oil into his hair and braided it tight. Sometimes,
if he knew he would be meeting girls, he would braid a strip of
blue cloth in with his hair. His friends, Frosti and Orm, also
looked to their appearance and tried to appear impressive rather
than young and foolish. The girls their age played fortune-telling
games and drew lots that were supposed to name their future
husbands. They made dream-pillows full of certain dried flowers and
plants that they might see the face of their intended while they
slept. They got up at dawn and rubbed dew on their faces to enhance
their beauty so they might attract the best of the young men.

Marta Bjornsdottir was a pretty girl.
Geirrid, Orm, and Frosti all took notice of her. Geirrid and Orm
came into their sixteenth year and began thinking seriously about
courting Marta, who was about a year younger. Frosti was about
eighteen. He also thought of Marta. Marta was considered a good
match since the farm that her father, Bjorn, had left to Gerda was
a good one and because she was granddaughter to the current godi
and sister to his chosen successor. Orm’s father, Ketil Tree-foot,
had a good farm but Colm’s was at least its equal. Of course
Geirrid was the son of former slaves but Colm had won a high
reputation and everyone thought well of him, especially Thorolf. So
Geirrid was favored by many to win Marta’s hand. No one thought
that Frosti Bragason, whose mother had been a slave when he was
conceived, had any chance at all. But Frosti was determined to
try.

Frosti spoke with his mother, Braga,
about Marta. Braga thought that the match was beyond Frosti’s grasp
but she promised to do what she could. Later, she spoke with her
husband Adals. “My son is thinking of marriage,” she said.

“Well, it’s time, I suppose,” said
Adals. “But I don’t know how much we can offer for his side of the
contract.” Adals didn’t mention that they also had a daughter,
Freydis, who would need backing at some point. That was a few years
off and Adals took little heed of the future.

“We need to offer quite a bit for the
match Frosti has in mind. He wants to court Marta
Bjornsdottir.”