Read The Saga of Colm the Slave Online
Authors: Mike Culpepper
Tags: #iceland, #x, #viking age, #history medieval, #iceland history
On the hanging, the sea was deep blue,
great strands of wool pulled through the woven cloak in a rolling
pattern. Floki’s ships were red and yellow, bright against the
blue. A black raven made its way across the water to the brilliant
green shores of Iceland. Colored threads had been twisted into
decorative strips running along the top and bottom of the scene. It
was very pretty to look at and the sort of thing a man could be
proud to have on the wall behind him when he sat in the high seat
at his own bench.
Gwyneth was hovering nearby and Colm
called her over. “Look, Gwyneth, isn’t this fine?”
“Oh, yes! It is wonderful! I wonder, did
Gunnar’s wife do this work?”
“She had two slaves do it,” said the
farm hand. “It took them almost three weeks.”
This was important information. Now Colm
knew approximately how much the gift was worth: it was local and
not exotic; it was good craftsmanship that cost five or so
woman-weeks of labor plus the value of the cloaks; thus it was
valuable but not enormously so. This was a gift that he could
accept.
“Well, they did a fine job,” said
Gwyneth. “This is a wonderful hanging and we’ll certainly use it on
special occasions.” She called one of the serving girls and had her
fetch common cloaks to wrap the hanging as dust covers. She tied
the cloaks down with her own hands and had the servant girls take
it to the big chest where she stored bedding. So the hanging passed
from the category of gifts to that of household goods.
Colm saw off the farmhand. “Tell Gunnar
I am very pleased with his gift.” The man rode away and Colm stood
thinking of what he should do next. It was to be expected that
Gunnar would send him a gift after the incident and, if Colm simply
accepted it with thanks, everything would be fine. But there was
another possibility that came to Colm: he could respond by sending
Gunnar a gift of his own.
Colm kept certain items of value in a
locked wooden chest. There was silver there, including several
large strips of the metal. And there was a fine carved wrist
bracelet, far more valuable than the hanging. A chieftain would
close a silver bracelet on the arm of a chosen follower. Colm was
hesitant to give Gunnar anything like a chieftain’s gift. After
all, he was only a freedman. Colm shook his head. He did not want
to ape Thorolf’s authority.
There were a few loose precious stones,
two of them cracked, and some excellent cloth. These were women’s
gifts. Then there were some unique items that had caught Colm’s eye
when he looked over traders’ wares. Now Colm picked through
them.
There was a pair of fine Irish shoes,
good leather, nicely carved and decorated with silver buttons. The
shoes were worth somewhat more than the hanging, but not so much as
to cause comment. This would be a good gift.
There was a dagger from Andalusia. The
blade was thin but very sharp. Colm thought it the best steel he
had ever seen. It was a fine knife but it lacked ornamentation and
Colm thought Gunnar would not appreciate it. He set it aside.
There was a walrus tusk carved into a
likeness of the god Frey when he was overcome by lust for a
beautiful young giantess. The god’s eyes bulged from his face and
he grasped an enormous erection. Colm smiled at the carving. So
would most people; it was meant not as an idol to be revered but as
a humorous object. The walrus ivory was valuable and the carving
was good but it seemed a slight gift somehow, something one might
give a close friend for the sake of seeing him laugh. It was not
right for Gunnar.
“I have been considering how to respond
to Gunnar’s gift,” Colm said. Gwyneth nodded. She understood these
matters. “I think I must give him a gift in return.”
“Of course. You don’t want to look like
a lesser man than Gunnar.”
“No. The question is, do I want to look
like more than him.”
Gwyneth attended to her spinning for a
while. Then she said, “Perhaps you should speak to Thorolf
first.”
“That’s good advice. I’ll ride over
there now.”
Thorolf came outside to greet Colm with
outstretched palms. Hallvard was right behind him. They ushered
Colm inside and gave him food and drink. Thorolf said, “You did
everyone a fine service by finding those cows.” Hallvard
nodded.
“It was easy enough,” said Colm, “My dog
did the hard part.”
“It was smart of you to take him up the
mountain then. You did well, Colm.” Thorolf drank some beer, then
he looked deep into Colm’s face. “It is important that people live
together in peace. If folks are quarrelling then they can’t count
on one another in times of trouble. You know, looking at the world
around us, we are very small and, compared to all the other people
in the world, we are very few. Only if we act together can we
prevail.”
Colm nodded. “I see that. I am glad to
be part of this community.”
“All right then,” said Thorolf, “And you
should be rewarded for your service to it.” He took a heavy ring
from his arm, a band of silver, and closed it around Colm’s arm. “I
wanted to do this where everyone could see, but since you are
here...”
“I am most grateful,” said Colm, “And
you must know I will do anything you ask of me. Now I have this, I
have been richly rewarded for my dog’s work.”
Thorolf raised an eyebrow, “Gunnar gave
you a gift?”
“Yes.” Colm described the hanging. “Now
I want to give him something in return.” He hesitated. “Possibly
something a little more valuable then the gift he gave me.”
Thorolf nodded. “Quite right, too.”
Colm said, “I wonder what would be
appropriate in this situation.”
“Silver,” said Thorolf immediately.
“Give the man silver, not coins, mind you, but some silver object.”
He gestured at the ring he had closed on Colm’s arm. “Something
like that.”
Colm touched the bracelet. “I think
something of less weight will be sufficient for Gunnar.”
“Don’t be too cautious here. Bind the
man to you! The community is bound together with cords of silver.
Let him know he is to follow you.” Thorolf laughed. “You won’t
embarrass me.” Colm laughed too, but he determined never to test
that statement. “Now,” said Thorolf, “There is another matter of
importance I want to discuss with you.”
“All right.” Colm waited in trepidation,
wondering what service Thorolf would demand in exchange for the
silver arm ring.
“Now that Bjorn is gone I need someone
to sit with me at the Logretta. I want you to sit behind me and
whisper advice in my ear. Hallvard will sit in front of me and
receive my explanation of what is happening.”
Colm was speechless. He nodded and tried
to find his voice. “I... I am honored.”
“Well, don’t be so honored that you are
silent when you sit with me. You are a man of sense and I value
your counsel.” Thorolf leaned forward. “But you must have enough
belly to offer it. Speak up!”
“All right!” Colm almost shouted. The
three men laughed together and drank beer for a while before Colm
rode home.
“How did it go?” Gwyneth sniffed at
Colm’s beard. “Well, I see there was beer to be had.”
“Yes,” said Colm, “And other things.” He
pointed to the silver arm ring.
“Thorolf gave you that?”
“Yes. He closed it on my arm. And I am
to sit on the Logretta with him.”
“Oh.” Gwyneth sat back. “That is... That
is...” When she was with Ingveld or other friends she could forget
her status as a freedwoman. But at feasts and sacrifices she had to
sit far from the center of the women’s table. Now that would be
changed. Her eyes filled with tears. “I am so happy.”
“Then I am twice glad,” said Colm, and
he began some sweet talk but Gwyneth stopped him.
“Did you get advice on a gift for
Gunnar?”
“Yes. Thorolf said to give him silver,
but not coins. He said not to be concerned about giving too much,
but to make certain I give enough to bind Gunnar to me.”
“Yes,” breathed Gwyneth, “Enough to make
him your man.”
“I have a carved silver wrist band from
Sweden. Not as much silver by weight as this,” he touched his
bracelet, “But very fine all the same. It’s worth quite a bit more
than the hanging.”
“It sounds right,” said Gwyneth, “Will
you give it to Gunnar in person?”
“Yes, but I will not close it on his
wrist. I will hand it to him.”
“All right. I will give you some cloth
for his wife as well,”
“This will be an expensive gift.”
“Good,” said Gwyneth, “This is for
Geirrid.” Their son would inherit this status.
“Yes,” said Colm, “This is for
Geirrid.”
15. Gunnora And Thrain
A man named Thrain took over Thorgils’
farm. He was from the southeast of Iceland. Two years before, a
terrible flood caused by a volcanic eruption had wiped out his farm
there and also swept away his wife and children. Thrain worked hard
and it wasn’t long before Gunnora took notice of him. Gwyneth
wasn’t at all surprised but she kept her thoughts to herself.
Soon enough there was talk that Gunnora
and Thrain might marry. Although Gunnora had some distant relations
in the district, she did not consult with them. She was a widow
free to make her own contract with anyone she wished. Most people
thought that she had enough sense to decide on these matters for
herself and some thought she was capable of driving a very hard
bargain, if it came to that.
People gathered at the Summer Sacrifice
and Gwyneth, as always, took note of the children. There were the
new infants, of course, and the toddlers just off the breast. There
were her own son and his friends, just this side of adulthood and
courtship. And in between there were a great crowd of children that
separated themselves into various age divisions. Egil’s son, Styr,
was about six and so was his cousin Thorgils’ son, Ljot. This was
the first time that Ljot had been seen in the area since his father
was killed. He and Styr knew each other quite well and the two boys
were happy to be with each other again.
Gunnora saw them playing together and
came closer. Ljot raised his head and Gunnora was struck at seeing
Thorgils in his eyes and manner. She watched the boys for a while,
then went to speak with the woman who had taken Ljot into her
household.
Braga was married to Adals and they
lived on the farm near Helgafeld where the witch couple had died.
Braga had a son, Frosti, that she had borne as a slave. Frosti
Bragason was a little older than Geirrid. Braga also had a daughter
by Adals named Freydis. Since she became a freedwoman, Braga had
stopped trying to appear simple all the time. Even so, the other
women regarded her as less than bright.
Gunnora said, “Braga, it was good of you
to take in Thorgils’child.”
Braga shrugged. “One more never
overloads the wagon.”
“But sometimes one calls for company,”
said Gunnora. “My own child has neither brother nor sister and I
don’t know that this will ever change.”
“Well,” said Braga, “From what I hear,
that will depend on Thrain.”
“Perhaps,” said Gunnora, “But I think it
would be good to have another child now. Suppose I were to offer to
take him off your hands, Braga?”
“Well, as to that, he’s a good lad and
one that will be of great help to our household as he gets
older.”
“If he survives,” said Gunnora, and both
women nodded sagely for they knew that many children did not live
to adulthood. They died in falls or drowned or contracted
disease.
Gunnora said, “I would like to take that
child on. Of course, I would compensate you for your loss.”
Now Braga’s ears perked up for she had
no wealth of her own and Gunnora was reputed to be rich. “I
couldn’t say what would be right in this situation,” she said, but
her eyes narrowed with greed.
Gunnora smiled. She mentioned a ring
that she had, set with a green stone, a pendant of amber, and a few
yards of silk cloth from Greekland. “Of course, if there was money
involved, people might say I had bought the boy as a slave, and
that isn’t the way it is.”
“No,” said Braga, who was a little
disappointed.
“But your husband should benefit, too. I
have not decided what to do with Egil’s favorite horse. I was even
thinking of offering him for sacrifice.” This horse was a fine
stallion and victor in several horse-fights. “The animal might
bring in some income for your household. At least, it would allow
your husband a good horse to bet on.” Adals loved horse-fighting
and was inclined to gamble.
Braga nodded. She had become a little
concerned about the steady drain on their finances of Adals’
losses. “Suppose I speak to my husband and see what he says.”
So the two women parted, each knowing
that a bargain had been struck. Later, Braga brought Ljot over to
Gunnora. “This is your new mother,” she said.
Gunnora asked Styr, “How do you like
your new brother?” And Styr said that he was happy to be brother to
his friend, Ljot.
Meanwhile, Thrain had caught wind of
what was going on and came over. “Aren’t you going to ask my
opinion?”
Gunnora said that she didn’t think that
necessary.
Thrain said, “Well, if I am to have an
extra mouth to feed, I should be consulted.” He looked hard at
Ljot. “He seems scrawny to me. I doubt he will grow into much.”
Gunnora saw the future then, as Thrain’s
wife. She saw him bullying and tormenting the orphan, Ljot, and
making his life miserable. She said, “I don’t see that this
concerns you in any way. Ljot will no more be part of your
household than I will.”
Thrain had thought it a great thing to
combine his property with Gunnora’s. She had more money than he
did, but he had planned on making her pregnant as soon as he could
so that one of his own children would have a claim on some of the
cash. In the meantime, he thought he would work her farm and rent
out his own land. He had a great many plans in his mind and now he
saw them all coming to nothing. He tried to take back his words
about Ljot and said that he would look after the boy as his own,
but Gunnora would have none of it. She said flatly that they would
never marry and that was an end to it.