The Greenlanders - Jane Smiley [240]
“But it has not turned out to be dangerous. In addition to that, I have slept here seven times now, and have never heard a sound nor felt a thing. Anyway, they say that her son had priests in the place shortly afterward, and that they have purged the spirits.” And so they looked about the steading, at the buildings and the furniture and the stalls of the byre, and they saw that all of these things were much finer and more conveniently made than they were at Lavrans Stead, and Kollgrim saw that the greed for such a life as one might live on such a fine steading was rising in Helga as it had risen in him. Helga found herself reluctant to leave, although the day was drawing on. They were standing in the byre remarking at the numbers of cows that had once been wintered there, when a figure appeared in the doorway, and startled them.
Kollgrim glanced up, and then glanced away, and stood as still as a post. Helga put her hand upon his shoulder, and felt that it was trembling, but then he shook her off and seemed to come to himself. He called out, “We are but looking over the abandoned steading. We have stolen nothing and mean no harm.” The figure stepped out of the doorway and disappeared, and Helga said, “I do fear to go out and gaze upon this spirit. They say that such things are so horrible that they enter one’s dreams forever afterward.”
“Nay, it is no spirit, but it is an enemy nonetheless. It is Jon Andres Erlendsson. We must not skulk about, but must go forth boldly if we intend to be his neighbors.”
“Perhaps such enmity is good reason for not being neighbors. If he strikes such confusion and fear into you—”
Kollgrim flared up. “Speak not of that again! Jon Andres Erlendsson is but a man, and neither as tall nor as broad as I am. Without Ofeig and his other accomplices he is nothing.”
“Then what is stopping us from going out?”
“Nothing.” But still he waited a moment before taking her hand and pulling her toward the entrance.
Jon Andres was sitting on the slope in front of the byre with his back to them, watching his horse crop the grass in the homefield a little ways off. He turned and looked upon them, and Helga, like everyone who had ever seen him, noticed his handsome looks and graceful manner. He said, “I was passing and I saw your belongings in front of the house. The steading is indeed abandoned, and therefore no more a concern of mine, but I do not wish its furnishings to be destroyed or stolen. You may look about as you wish.”
Helga replied, “I am Helga Gunnarsdottir, and although I was born here, it is entirely new to me, and of great interest.”
“I know who you are. I saw you from afar when I was carrying game and sheep to your father’s steading some years ago.”
Kollgrim flushed angrily and gripped Helga’s hand so that it hurt, but said nothing. Helga said, “We had intended to make our way back to Lavrans Stead this evening, and as it is a long journey, we had better be off.”
“Will you take meat with me at Ketils Stead? It is not far.”
Now Kollgrim was gripping her hand so tightly that it was only with difficulty that she didn’t cry out. “Nay,” she said, “we must not take the time, but you are kind to invite us.” Jon Andres nodded his head, and called his horse to him and mounted the beast. Only when he had ridden off did Kollgrim relax his grip. Helga turned upon him. “Now you have nearly broken my hand!” she exclaimed angrily. “And met his courtesy with rude silence! If you are so tall and so broad and so unafraid, then why have you let a woman speak for you?”
But Kollgrim, too, was angry. “I see that your eyes leapt to his quick enough, and your cheeks flushed when you talked to him! He is my bitter enemy, and he paid a compensation that was insultingly low for the injury he did to me!”
“It is you who has brought me here! If he is your bitter enemy, then it were best that you did not live cheek by jowl with him. But I can see in your eyes that such proximity is part of the attraction of this steading for you! Always it has been the case that you cannot bear not to look upon the trouble that you