~ ~ ~
OVER AT LAUGAR, IN SÆLINGSDALE, Gudrún rose early as soon as the sun was up. She went to the room where her brothers were sleeping, and shook Ospak. Ospak and his brothers woke up at once; and when he saw it was his sister he asked her what she wanted, to be up so early in the morning. Gudrún said she wanted to know what they were planning to do that day. Ospak said they would be having a quiet day — ‘for there isn’t much work to be done just now.’
Gudrún said, ‘You would have had just the right temper if you had been peasants’ daughters — you do nothing about anything, whether good or bad. Despite all the disgrace and dishonour that Kjartan has done you, you lose no sleep over it even when he rides past your door with only a single companion. It’s obviously futile to hope that you will ever dare to attack Kjartan at home if you haven’t the nerve to face him now when he is travelling with only one or two companions. You just sit at home pretending to be men, and there are always too many of you about.’
Ospak said she was making too much of this, but admitted that it was difficult to argue against her. He jumped out of bed at once and dressed, as did all the brothers one after another; then they made ready to lay an ambush for Kjartan.
Laxdæla Saga
~ ~ ~
NATAN WAS NOT HOME WHEN Fridrik and I arrived at Illugastadir. I’m not sure what would have happened if he had been. It took several minutes of knocking before Sigga opened the door to let us in. She carried Natan’s daughter on her hip.
‘He told me to refuse you if you came back,’ she said, but she let us in anyway.
I accepted the coffee she gave us. ‘Where is Natan?’ I asked.
‘A messenger from Geitaskard arrived. Worm’s not well. Natan left early this morning.’
‘How has he been?’
Sigga gave me a look. ‘He’s been in a bad temper.’
‘Has he forced you again?’ Fridrik was examining Natan’s shelf by his bed. Sigga watched anxiously as he picked up a few boxes and rattled them.
‘What are you looking for?’
‘Compensation,’ Fridrik muttered. He peered out the window at the snow outside. ‘I bet I was right. I bet he’s buried it all in the yard.’
I looked at Sigga. ‘Has he said anything about me?’
Sigga shook her head.
I attempted a grim smile. ‘Nothing you’d like to repeat to my face.’
Fridrik dusted the snow off his shoulders and sat down next to Sigga, drawing her onto his lap. ‘My little bird,’ he said. ‘My wife.’
Sigga resisted his caresses and sat back down on the bed. ‘Don’t call me that,’ she said.
Fridrik flushed red. ‘Why not? You’re mine.’
‘Natan told me he’s changed his mind. He won’t allow it.’ Her voice broke into a sob. ‘Not ever.’
‘Goddamn Natan!’
Despite the sombre mood of our gathering, it was hard not to smile at Fridrik’s dramatic cry. ‘I’m sure Natan will get over it,’ I said.
Sigga wiped her eyes and shook her head. ‘He says he will be the one to marry me if anyone does.’
My stomach dropped, and I noticed Fridrik turn pale. ‘What?’
‘That’s what he said,’ Sigga sniffed.
‘What did you say?’ My voice sounded thin and shaky.
Sigga burst into a fresh bout of sobbing.
‘You didn’t say yes, did you?’ Fridrik placed an arm around her, and Sigga pushed her face into his neck. She howled.
We three spent the next two days together at Illugastadir, making plans to leave. Sigga thought that she might be able to return to Stóra-Borg, and I offered to take her with me back to the valley as soon as the weather allowed. Fridrik suggested that I go to Ásbjarnarstadir to ask for work until winter’s end. He said the farmer there did not like Natan; he might take me on out of sympathy.
We were talking in this way one afternoon when we saw travellers coming down the mountain pass. We’d been so wrapped up in our plans to escape that we hadn’t seen them appear. We were outside in the yard, taking some air in the finer weather, and it was too late for us to hide. They would have seen us.
‘Agnes!’ Sigga hissed. ‘It’s Natan. He’ll tan me when he sees you.’
My heart was beating like a battle drum, but I dared not show it. ‘He’s not alone, Sigga. He won’t do anything with company about.’
We three stood waiting for the pair of riders. When they came close enough, I was surprised to see Sheepkiller-Pétur riding with Natan.
‘Look, Pétur,’ Natan said. ‘Three little foxes sneaking about the place.’ He smiled, but his eyes were cold. I thought he might attack Fridrik, but instead he dismounted and walked up to me.
‘What is she doing here?’ His smile vanished. I flushed red, and stole a glance at Pétur. He seemed taken aback.
‘Please let her come back, just until winter is over,’ Sigga protested.
‘I’ve had enough of you, Agnes.’
‘What have I even done?’ I was pretending to be calm.
‘You said you wanted to go, so go!’ He took another step towards me. ‘Leave!’
Sigga looked anxious. ‘She’s got no place to stay, Natan. It’s going to snow.’
Natan laughed. ‘You never mean what you say, Agnes. You say one thing, and a different meaning lurks beneath it. You want to leave? Leave!’
I wanted to tell Natan that I wanted him; that I wanted him to love me back. But I said nothing. There was nothing I could have said.
It was Fridrik who broke the silence.
‘You’re not going to marry her,’ he announced through gritted teeth.
Natan laughed. ‘Not this again.’ He turned to Pétur. ‘See what happens when you live with children? They draw you into their little games.’
Pétur gave a thin smile.
‘Fine.’ Natan started to lead his horse towards the field. ‘Agnes can stay, but not in the badstofa. Pétur and I are going to sleep here tonight, and then we’re going to Geitaskard again in the morning. If you’re still here when we return, I’m handing you over to the District Commissioner as a trespasser. Fridrik, leave before I get Pétur to slit your throat.’ He laughed, but Pétur looked at the ground.
I slept in the cowshed again that night. It wasn’t so cold as when Natan first threw me out, and Sigga helped me make up a little bed before returning inside. It stank of shit, and the floor was alive with lice, but eventually I fell asleep.
When I woke, it was dark. I stood up and went to the doorway, and saw light still issuing from the window in the croft. I felt clearheaded after my rest, and was about to walk back to the farm to see if I couldn’t make it up with Natan when I heard footsteps in the snow behind the cowshed.
‘Sigga?’
The footsteps stopped, then I heard their soft crunch again. They were coming towards me. I retreated into the darkness of the shed and pressed my back against the wall.
I heard a low whisper. ‘Agnes?’
It was Fridrik.
He slipped inside the entrance.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’
He was breathing hard. I couldn’t see him in the shadows, but I could smell his sweat. Something clinked.
‘Did you walk here from Katadalur?’
He coughed and spat. ‘Yes.’
‘Natan’s going to kill you if he sees you.’
‘I’ll wait until he’s asleep.’
‘To do what? If he wakes up and catches you and Sigga whispering sweet nothings in the bed next to his he’ll have you hung and quartered before day breaks.’
I heard Fridrik sniff.