Lögberg-Heimskringla - 24.02.1995, Page 5

Lögberg-Heimskringla • Föstudagur 24. febrúar 1995 • 5
By Ragnhildur Guttormsson
Edited by Kirsten Wolf
Not long afterwards Þorbjörg saw
him ride off with twelve of his
men. It was the first time since
they became man and wife that he had
gone anywhere without a farewell from
her.
“Did Indriði say where he was going?”
she asked elderly Þórólfr, who had been
with them since the death of her father.
Þórólfr seemed surprised at her question,
yet answered promptly, “I heard him tell
the foreman he was going to Illugi at
Hólmr and would be gone four or five
days.”
The Alþingi was to begin in four days.
When Helgi retumed to Breiðabóls-
taðr, Hörðr questioned him eagerly about
Indriði’s answer to his appeal for aid.
Helgi told him that Indriði had definitely
and unmistakably refused to go to the
Alþingi on his behalf to answer to the
charges laid by Torfi. But he made no
mention of the fact that Indriði had invit-
ed him to come and stay at Indriðastaðr.
Hörðr said little, but it was easy to see
that he was angiy.
“And my sister, Þorbjörg, did she send
no message?”
“She sent her greetings,” Helgi said
shortly.
“Didn’t say one word on my behalf?”
asked Hörðr.
“If she did I didn’t hear it,” answered
Helgi.
For a long while Hörðr sat without
moving or speaking. Helga, sitting beside
him, at last laid her hand upon his arm. It
seemed as if all the anger drained out of
him at her touch.
“I ought not to be surprised, Helga,”
he said slowly. “Little support have I ever
had from my kinsfolk.”
“I’m still at your side,” said Helga.
“That’s all I need. We’ll stand and fall
together. Never again will I go whining to
any of them for help. But Þorbjörg?”
Hörðr’s face twitched for a moment as if
in pain. “I can’t understand Þorbjörg.”
Þorbjörg, on the other hand, could not
understand why she heard nothing from
Hörðr. The long mid-summer days
passed slowly. Every minute her eyes
would be watching for a sign of Hörðr
and his household. But each precious day
dragged wearily by without any news.
Had Hörðr found someone to speak for
him, or had he decided to go to the
Alþingi himself?
At last she decided she had to know.
She called Þórólfr, whom she knew she
could trust. He had served her father well
and was devoted to Þorbjörg, while
Hörðr was his hero.
“I’m anxious to hear what’s taking
place at the Alþingi, Þórólfr; you’re the
only one I can trust to give me a true
account of events.”
“I’ll be glad to go. I’d also like to know
what’s going to happen to Hörðr.”
“Yes, I know you’re well disposed
towards my brother. He needs the few
friends that he has. I only wish I could be
of some use to him. Are you afraid to ride
alone?”
“No I’m not afraid. I know my way
around this country-side. At Þingvellir
I’ve ldnsmen and friends.”
Kinsmen and friends! That was more
than Hörðr had at Þingvellir.
“Ride then, Þórólfr. And may you be a
bearer of good tidings, when you come
back.”
The nineteenth installment ofan unpublished novel
by Ragnhildur Guttormsson, discovered and
edited byKirsten Wolf, Chair, Dept. oflcelandic, University of Manitoba.
The story sofar:
Horðr’s troubles begin to affect everyone,
clouding even the relationship between
Þorbjörg and Indriði.
€iahii wm ]PAm %
Þórólfr was one of the crowd of people
who heard Torfi, when he served notice of
Hörðr’s suit at the Law Rock on the very
first day of the Alþingi. He saw him as he
stepped forwards towards the presiding
chieftain-priest, and, after touching the
blood-sprinkled ring on his hand, recited
the required formula:
“I swear on this ring a lawful oath, so
help me Freyr and Njörðr and Þórr, to
conduct this suit, the calling of witnesses
and home verdict, as I know best and
truest, and most according to law.”
Every word was thrown back, clear
and distinct from the rocky wall of
Almannagjá; towards the multitude stand-
ing there listening.
Next Torfi named his witnesses from
the home verdict, witnesses to the crime
committed by Helgi, the son of Sigmundr,
in the killing of Sigurðr, the son of
Auðunn, and also the crime committed by
Hörðr in the killing of Auðunn and the
burning of the home wherein two old
women perished.
Þórólfr thought every word dripped
venom, as Torfi recited:
“Do I say that Hörðr, the son of
Grímkell, should because of this crime be
declared an outlaw, where anyone feeding
him, transporting him, and in any way
rendering him any assistance becomes
himself an enemy of the law. All his prop-
erty will be confiscated and half revert to
me as chief prosecutor and half be given
to such of my vassals as are eligible for
such fines. I declare this notice hereby
lawfully given for everybody to hear at the
Law Rock.”
At Torfi’s back were his witnesses, his
five men in the home-verdict, all his own
vassals from his constituency who also
swore on the ring as to Hörðr’s guilt.
Next day, at the Court of Laws,
Þórólfr, consumed with impotent
anger, watched Torfi, as he
repeated the charges against Hörðr and
Helgi. Every letter of the law had now
been fulfilled, and Torfi stood beside his
henchmen waiting for the defence to
come forward. His eyes flitted here and
there under lowering brows, and his face
wore a self-righteous smirk. He had done
his part well; he had an iron-proof case;
let Grímkell’s son wriggle out of that.
Þórólfr thought of the story he had
heard so often, when Grímkell forced
Torfi to pay Brynjólfr for the opal neck-
lace and struck him with the flat of his
sword. Now Torfi was exacting payment
in full.
The Law Speaker was talking,
“Whoever has the authority to defend this
case, come forward and do so!”
There was no movement. Again he
repeated his summons, with the same
result. A whisper of awe and constema-
tion passed over the crowd. Nobody here
to defend Hörðr, the son of law-abiding
Grímkell; he himself a hero, famous for
his valor and strength, brother-in-law. of
Indriði and Illugi the Red and the hus-
band of an Earl’s daughter.
The third time the Law Speaker
called for the defence, and still there
was no response. Þórólfr thought
Torfi looked a little crestfallen as if robbed
of some of the sweetness of his victoiy.
“The curse! The curse! His mother’s
curse!” The hissing syllables spread over
the crowd from mouth to mouth like a
wave. Everybody knew what the verdict
must be with no one to defend.
Outlawry. Hörðr would be declared an
outlaw beyond all kindness, decency,
and hope of justice.
The judges seemed reluctant to pass
the judgment, but there was no other
course open to them. Such was the law
of the land; nobody had come forward to
bring countercharges or to offer fines for
the crimes committed. Helgi, the son of
Sigmundr, the despised beggar, and
Hörðr, the son of proud, respected
Grímkell were declared outlaws in the
hearing of all the multitude at the
Aiþingi.
“Oh no! No!” It was the lone voice of
Þórólfr, the only protest which nobody
heard nor heeded. A hush of awe settled
upon the crowd.
Þórólfr was horrified. He lmew what
outlawry meant; he had seen outlaws,
hunted, shunned outcasts; gaunt with
hunger, and snarling with hate. He felt
sick and sat down on a rock. Then the
crowd began to move past him ,and he
heard their comments as they passed.
“It’s Torfi who should’ve been out-
lawed.”
“Grímkell must lie uneasy in his caim
today.”
“It’s not good when a man like Hörðr
is outlawed.”
“Where were his brothers-in-law?”
“They were spearing salmon two days
ago.”
“Surely they knew what was going to
happen. Why didn’t they stand by
Hörðr?”
“Don’tknow. MaybeafraidofTorfi.”
Þórólfr knew Indriði and Illugi could
have prevented this dire thing from hap-
pening, and they had done nothing. And
now he must be the one to tell Þorbjörg
what had taken place at the Alþingi.
Two days later Þórólfr guided his
tired, lathered steed up the roadway to
Indriðastaðr. Indriði had just arrived
with his men; the horses were being
unsaddled and led away. On the horse-
stone lay a giant salmon, glistening in the
sun. Þórólfr heard the loud, hearty voice
of Indriði as he entered the hall. He was
talking to Þorbjörg. “No, I haven’t been
to the Alþingi. There was a great mn of
salmon. The men will be bringing home
several horse loads. It was great sport.”
Þorbjörg said something Þórólfr
could not hear.
“No,” Indriði answered, still in his
full, hearty voice. “No, Torfi didn’t come
to Keelness Thing. I was hoping he
would, then Illugi and I could’ve met his
charges. Illugi won his lawsuit. Haven’t
you heard from Hörðr?”
“No, but there’s Þórólfr now. I sent
him to the Alþingi for news.”
There was such hope in her eyes that
it hurt, knowing that he must tell her. At
the moment he hated Indriði with his
hearty talk, hated him, hated him!
“What is it Þórólfr? Bad news?”
“Yes,” he heard himself saying. “Yes,
bad news.”
Þorbjörg looked pityingly at Þórólfr.
He had driven himself relentlessly
through copse and wood and across
deep rivers. One could read the story of
his joumey in his tom, wet clothes, and
his scratched face and hands.
“What is it, Þórólfr? Is it Hörðr?”
Þorbjöig asked again.
“Yes. Hörðr has been declared an
outlaw.”
For a long time there was silence.
Þórólfr stole a glance at Þorbjörg. Her
face was stem and white like a frozen
mask. Even Indriði’s usually placid face
was filled with dismay. He was the first
to break the silence.
“Don’t take on so, Þorbjörg. This was
bound to happen, sooner or later
between Helgi, the blundering mischief-
maker, and Torfi, the plotter. Hörðr had
no chance at Broad Acres.”
Þorbjörg did not seem to hear him.
“My poorbrother. From early child-
hood he was marked for a cruel
fate, and we’ve done nothing to avert it.”
“I’ve offered him refuge here, and if
he accepts my offer, I’ll see that he gets
off to Norway on a merchant ship this
summer. That’s his only chance while
Torfi’s above ground.”
“Seems to me you’ve left undone the
one thing most necessary. Many must
have found it strange there was nobody
to speak for Hörðr at the Alþingi.”
“That’s right,” Þórólfr broke in. “I
heard people say as much.”
Indriði’s face went cold and hard at
Þórólfr’s words. “Nobody asked you for
a song,” he said. “Go and clean the
salmon on the horse-stone still lying in
the sun.”
That was one of the lowest of menial
tasks usually left for a slave, but Þórólfr
went off with his head held high.
Þorbjörg gave Indriði a long, search-
ing look. “Why punish Þóróliir? He only
spoke the truth.”
Cont’d. page 6