by Henry Treece
And German Tyrkir came up and said in his thick voice, ‘When you are as old as I am, Leif, you will know that it does not matter too much. All that matters is for a man to be a man and not a brute.’
10. Vinland the Good
Tyrkir of Bremen sat whittling a stick under the mast. He said, ‘It is all very well to sing going down the green-banked fjord. It is another thing to make carols when the sea puts its green fangs round the throat. The songs are pitched on a higher note then. One could mistake them for screams.’
One of the oarsmen, a youth from Orkney called Kol, said sneering, ‘Stick to your sticks, we’ll swing to our songs, German. There was never an old man but he warned of grief.’
Tyrkir nodded to him and said, ‘I have reared wolf-cubs that could have taken your head in their jaws like a plum and not have noticed they had eaten.’
Kol lost his stroke on the oar and got cursed by the men on either side of him. He said, ‘I shall not forget that, Tyrkir, when it comes to land-fall-reckoning.’
Tyrkir said, ‘Suit yourself, my boy. I shall not be running away.’
Thorhall, beside Leif at the steerboard, said smiling wryly, ‘ I have taken a great fancy to your foster-father. He may not be much with the sword and axe, but he is a proper man. We shall advise you well between us, the German and I.’
Leif said, ‘I have no doubt about that, fat-nose. You are very loud of giving advice.’
Then the wind swung as they came into open sea, and took the steerboard round against Leif’s pulling, leading them eastwards. Thorhall and Thorstein lent their weight on the elm handle, but they could not beat the sea-drag. Leif said, ‘Enough is as good as a feast. If we do more we shall have our shoulders wrenched out. Let go and we’ll come back to it later.’
So they hit the fogs and wallowed, and the next thing was they saw old Snaefellsness. Thorhall said, ‘I’m not going ashore there to be made a song about. Give me the elm-haft, boy, and I’ll swing her about or break my arm.’
Leif gave him the helm, and Thorhall wrestled with it for a time. At last he grinned and said, ‘Now we are set right. It needs a seaman to steer old Wolf-snout. This is not one of your narrow-hipped barges - it is a true Viking’s ship. It will only obey a big man, one who could wrestle with bears.’
But when they sighted flat green fields and sea-gulls following the ploughmen inland, even Thorhall said, ‘Well, this is like nothing but Ireland, lads. I must have given the stick a turn too far. Shall we go ashore and ask them who the king is?’
Leif said sternly, ‘I am this ship’s master, baresark. And while it is afloat I am the king here. Now that you know where we are, set our nose towards western Greenland and I will take over from there.’
And this Thorhall did, though with bad grace since he still had his mind set on Wicklow gold. But inside three days Leif said to him, ‘Right now, I think I can smell the Greenland shoals, and tell the colour of the water up here. Go aft and sleep. I will take the steerboard.’
Two days later he called out to them and said, ‘Look, away to steerboard, at all those slabs of rocks lying about on the headland. This is somewhere else than Greenland. This is Slabland, the place Bjarni saw.’
Tyrkir said nodding over his knife, ‘Aye, it is Slabland. But I have no wish to land there.’
Thorhall woke and said, ‘I just saw a fox scampering across the grey rocks. I shall come here another time to get my furs.’
Then the wind came from the north and almost lifted them out of the water. It roared round them like heat from a furnace and Leif said, ‘Ship your oars, boys, or we shall have nothing left but fire-wood.’
And for two days the wind kept at them, and on the third day the watch-out man called, ‘Hey, hey, dead ahead, look at the green woods! Look at the white sand beaches!’
Leif looked and said, ‘This is good - but not good enough. This we will call Markland. I see the woods and the shores, but I do not see the vines. We shall go on.’
Then Thorhall came aft and stood over him, saying, ‘Are you daft, lad? This is no land I ever saw. This must be the edge of the world. If we go farther we shall fall over the lip of the dish into the everlasting darkness.’
But Leif was feeling lucky now and said, ‘Right, we shall fall. Would the falling darkness be any worse than Greenland through the winter?’
Thorhall said, ‘If anyone but you had said that, I would have put my axe into his head.’
Leif said, ‘That is no way to end an argument, friend. Then you would not know what the truth was. Only I would know.’
Old Tyrkir under the mast whittling said quietly, ‘He would know as much truth as you did, son; I should put my ivory knife under his ribs, axe or no axe.’
Thorhall heard him and smiled. ‘You take things too seriously, German,’ he said.
Tyrkir answered, ‘Aye, and I need to, with men like you about.’
But there was no real quarrelling, and in two days the voyagers saw something they never forgot, however long they lived. There was land before them, with an island standing off it, all lush and green in the sunlight, with the deep blue sky over all. The men stopped rowing, shipped their oars, and gazed astounded. Those of them who had been bom in Greenland had never seen such paradise, for this place swarmed with white geese, green trees, low hills, shoals of fish and fluttering moths. Even Kol of Orkney said, ‘Well, Leif, I see no vines or wheat - but any man who went past this place into utter darkness would be a madman, and I would not go with him. Put into haven here, or I shall jump overboard and take myself ashore.’
Most of the others said the same. So Leif headed round the island and towards the mainland; and when he had gone a way, he saw that they were at the mouth of an inlet or river, so he went on along it against the deep blue stream, and at last they came to a great peaceful lake, surrounded with tall dark green trees, and with the waters swarming with fish, and birds flying everywhere without fear.
The Vikings jumped waist-deep into the water and dragged the longship ashore, laughing and singing whatever came into their heads.
Leif said, ‘Well, whether it was the Whitechrist or Thor who brought us here, I do not care. If this is the edge of the world, then those who live in its centre are getting the worst of the bargain.’
Now, among the tall grasses, they saw red and blue flowers of such delicate colouring that they almost wept. Deep scarlet butterflies fluttered among the flowers, and wild bees, heavy with honey, droned from stem to stem. A family of plump brownish birds like partridges stopped and stared at the Vikings without trying to escape. A lazy young brown bear with his muzzle all sticky from honey came out from a hole in a green bank and made a playful dab at Thorhall with his paw. Thorhall stepped aside quickly and said, ‘Hey, comrade, take care. You will rip my best leggings off me, boy. Will your father make me another pair?’
The rovers laughed at the bear’s bewildered expression. Then they passed on to a flat place by the shore where Leif pointed and said, ‘This is where the houses shall be built.’
They made the huts of stone and turf, cut with their swords and axes from the mild soil, and roofed them with tarpaulins from the ship. And when the houses were complete, they made rods and lines and stood in the lake and caught the biggest salmon they had ever clapped eyes on.
As they sat about their many fires in that settlement, Leif said, ‘King Olaf spoke much about Heaven. But if it is better than this, I shall be surprised.’
Thorhall scratched at his beard and said, ‘Well, I have never taken the end of life too seriously, boy, but I do not think that I would change this for the Valhalla our bards sing of. Let us stay here.’
Old Tyrkir the German was dissatisfied. He said, ‘Friends, I came here to taste the good wine we had been promised. But I see no vines, and I shall not rest easy in my mind until I have.’
Leif said recklessly, ‘Well, if you would like to go and look for them, foster-father, you are at liberty to do so. Never say that I forbade you.’
So Tyrkir filled his skin flask with fresh lake water and went off towards the west. The others carried on with their feasting and forgot about him for the time being.
But the next morning Leif was in a fury. ‘Where is Tyrkir?’ he yelled. ‘Has no one had the sense to go out and look for him?
Don’t you fools understand that he is an old man, and could easily fall into a hole, or have a fit, or something? Well, this decides it, you are not capable of being left to decide for yourselves. Now you will obey me in all things. Divide into two parties, and one of you go to west and the other to east; and if, by the day’s end, you have not found my foster-father, then God help you, for I shall have every second man flogged.’
Even Thorhall looked shaken at these words. He helped to select the men for the two parties and then gave them the order to set off. But just as he spoke, they saw old Tyrkir come staggering out from a dense wood at the far side of the lake. He walked like a sick or wounded man.
Leif said grimly, ‘Someone will suffer for this, and no mistake.’ Then he went into his hut and buried his head in his blanket.
And at last Thorhall brought Tyrkir in to Leif and said, ‘The wound he has will heal itself, shipmaster. I have suffered the same sickness many times, after the Yuletide feasting. See, he cannot walk without help, but he has shed no blood at all.’ Thorhall was laughing.
Then Leif looked up into Tyrkir’s swaying eyes. The German said thickly, ‘Hey, old Leif, I found the vines. Yes, the vines I found. And what rich vines! What wine they made in the sun, unpicked.’
He fell on to the bed and they saw that he was clutching bunches of dark purple grapes in both hands. He looked up at Thorhall and said, ‘Then truly we have arrived at where we set out for. This is indeed Vinland the Good. Aye, this is Wine Land. Here life will be one long feast.’
11. Thorhall’s Warning
They built more houses by the lake, roofed them with timber from the woods, and spent the winter in Vinland. That year the climate was so mild there that the grass scarcely withered as the year turned and there were no frosts at all. Men walked out at Yuletide without their hide-jerkins. Some of them even wore no shirts as they fished, thigh-deep in the lake’s blue waters.
Thorstein came to his brother Leif and said, ‘I have never known Norway or even Iceland, so I cannot judge what a land should be like. But I can tell you, brother, that this is so fair a place, I would happily stay here for the rest of my life.’
Leif clapped him on the shoulder and said, ‘Aye, brother, and I hope that we may. But first we must go back to Greenland and tell the folk there what we have found. Our father isn’t getting any younger, and I’d like to see our Red Hand sitting in the sunshine for a few years before he goes to wherever such an old heathen goes.’
Thorstein laughed in the blue sunlight and said, ‘Aye, and our mother should build herself a good church here, with the timber that lies so easy to the hand. In this gay place she will forget her dreams of ice and terror coming down from the north. Shall we go back and fetch them, as soon as the winds start blowing up from the south?’
Leif nodded, then went away and set the men building a tow-boat of fir-wood, so that he could take a heavy load of timber home. He also got Tyrkir to transplant some of the vines he had found in tubs, so that the Greenlanders should taste their wonderful fruits.
Only Thorhall the Hunter had any doubts about it all. He was in a bad mood that day. He screwed up his dark face and said, ‘Lads, in this life no man ever gets without giving. You will find that this Vinland is not the soft place of dreams you think. You will find that it will ask its price before we have done.’
Thorstein said, ‘Why, you croaking old raven, you!’
But Thorhall answered, ‘You were only a baby-boy when I fetched you out of a wolf’s mouth near the Western Settlement, Thorstein. In truth, you do not even remember that I did so. I can tell by your eyes. But I did, and asked no reward for it. I may be getting old; I may be a hard-handed axe-swinger and not a Whitechrist wafer-gobbler - but I have seen some life and death in my time. I have seen great kings come and go. They come with their cloaks flying like the clouds at sunset; they go like a little drizzle of grey rain, hardly noticed.’
Leif nodded and frowned with impatience. ‘Come, come, baresark,’ he said, ‘we know all this. You have said it all our lives. What do you want to tell us that is new?’
The Hunter said shortly, ‘I shall tell you, Leif, since you arc the master of this trip.’
‘Aye, do that,’ said Leif smiling into the sun and pushing his fox-fur cap on to the back of his red head.
Thorhall said, chewing a grass-stalk, ‘This place will kill many of us. We have found it, whereas it had been a secret place. Soon we must pay the price for finding it whether we go or stay. Thor did not put it here to be pried into. I shall say no more; but when death comes, remember my words.’
Thorstein laughed at him and said, ‘You are not the only old counsellor with us, you know. There is Tyrkir the German. He knows a few things too. He has not sat by the fireside all his life.’
Thorhall nodded unsmiling and said, ‘Then go to him and ask his opinion.’ Then he walked into the lake and caught three salmon in his bare hands without trying.
Old Tyrkir was carving the prow of the tow-boat with a chisel he had made of copper. He wiped his brow and said, ‘Aye, the old murderer is right enough. This place will kill you.’
Then he laughed at the young men’s faces and said, ‘And so will any place, lads. For it is man’s nature to die in due course, whatever heaven he finds for himself. We cannot drink the good wine for ever, now can we? Every feast must end.’
They began to laugh then, and he went on chiselling. And soon after spring broke, they set off back to Greenland, having covered Leif’s houses well against storms. The journey was so tireless they wondered why half the world was not there in Vinland, drinking the good wine, eating the good bread, catching the fat fish.
They never lost sight of land for a week, with a stiff breeze at their back and the warm sun over them. And when they had come alongside Slabland again, Leif said, ‘Well, now we should swing to steerboard and cross into the open sea.’ And just as though some god had heard him the wind changed and took them where he wished.
And when they had been going into the green waste for two days, with almost a gale behind them, they saw a jagged reef on the horizon; and as they came towards it, a longship lying smashed on the rocks and about fifteen folk standing among the jagged black teeth and waving like madmen to them in case they swept on.
Leif said, ‘It is a good thing we came this way. These folk would have been clawed off their steading by the green fingers before long.’
He lowered the sail and the men back-paddled to keep Wolf-snout on the rein; then he put off in the small boat and fetched the stranded folk in, making three trips backwards and forwards.
They turned out to be from Norway. Their captain was a brown-haired youth called Thorir who had with him a pretty wife called Gudrid. Her hair was the colour of sun-bleached hay and her eyes were the dark blue of cornflowers. Thorstein said to Leif, ‘It is wrong to envy a man of his holdings, brother - but I tell you, I wish I had been first on the scene when this beautiful lady chose a husband.’
Leif thumped him on the chest and said, ‘Why, you must be even sillier than I thought. A wife like that is not for men like us. We do not need pretty dolls in our houses; we need bigarmed corn-scythers and bread-makers.’
The brothers almost came to quarrelling about this; but just then Thorhall came up to the after-awning and said, ‘These folk we have picked up, they are not well.’ Tyrkir, who stood behind him, said, ‘I do not like their pale skins, mottled with red. The eyes of some of them seem sunk into their heads and are all black-rimmed.’
Leif said, ‘So would your eyes be sunk into your head, old Bremen, if you had been through what these poor souls have. Night after night on a small reef, with all the world’s green sea roar
ing about you. Nay, I shall take them into haven up Eiriksfjord, and that is the Christian thing to do.’
Black-browed Thorhall said, ‘Aye, it may be your soft Christian thing to do, but it is not what I would do.’
Thorstein said, ‘Well, then, old heathen, and what would you do, in your great wisdom?’
Thorhall said, ‘I should pitch them all back into the sea without any delay, master. And when I had done that I should see that my ship-boards were scrubbed clean with fresh saltwater. I should scrub them till I had half worn them away, oak or not.’
After that he and Tyrkir stayed together, not going near the Norwegians at all. Gudrid was merry enough, but the others lay about by the prow and were not very interested even when Wolf-snout nosed up Eiriksfjord.
There was much feasting when the news got round that Leif had come home again, and with a tow-boat so laden with timber, vines and furs.
Thjodhild wept without stopping to see her sons again. Even sullen Freydis kissed her brothers as though she bore them no grudge for being men.
But Eirik came from the feast-hall late that night and meeting Leif by the stackyard wall said, ‘Why did you not throw them back into the sea, as you would if you caught a rotten fish?’
Leif said, ‘You have been talking to that heathen Thorhall, father.’
Eirik said, ‘I do not need to talk to Thorhall on such matters. I do not need him to tell me what the plague looks like.’
Leif said, ‘These good folk from Norway? These shipwrecked folk? I do not understand.’
Eirik said, ‘Then I will tell you, my son; they were trying to escape a plague that has swept Bergen. But though they went to the edge of the world it caught them up at the end. You should have left them on their reef, where good Thor had put them for safety’s sake. Now, by your Christian meddling, you have brought their disease into our clean settlement.’
He turned and went away. Leif did not follow him.
