Thorberg was the Wise Woman's name. She was the last alive of a family
of nine, all women and all wise in the art of reading the days to come.
It was supposed that she had come from Iceland, but nobody remembered
to have brought her, nor knew of her origin. In these days she lived
by herself in a hut of the Settlement at the Ness, and crouched over a
peat fire all the winter, singing songs to herself which nobody could
understand. In the summer she was often seen about among the pastures
below the hills, but always by herself. When she was asked she might
go out and show herself at men's houses where there was a feast going
on; if she was treated according to her fancy she might foretell the
fortune of the householder or of some guest of his, or the upshot of
the coming harvest, whether of the sea or of the land. But everything
must be exactly as she pleased. There was no telling what she would do
or say.
Heriolf was the greatest man at the Ness, and kept the best table. He
seldom lacked of guests during the dark months. He was a most
hospitable man--loving, as he said, everything on two legs. He had
never accepted the new religion, and stood well with Thorberg, but had
such respect for her that he would never ask her to come to a feast
unless the entertainment were what he thought worthy of her. This
year, with Thorbeorn and Gudrid in the house, he felt that she ought to
be asked up, so sent a man out to invite her, naming the day when the
feast would be ready. Thorberg returned word that she would come, but
made no promises of what she would say.
Immediately, Heriolf set about his preparations and, immediately, there
was trouble with Thorbeorn. He did not like it at all. He took it ill
that there should be such a fuss. Thorberg, it seemed, must have a
high seat; she must be escorted to the feast; she must have her
particular food, dressed just so; she must be treated with great
respect, let alone, never crossed, never importuned. And he a
Christian! "Heathen customs!" he said. "Friend, you shall have me
excused. These things smell of brimstone. I could not be present by
any means, and don't desire that Gudrid should be involved."
But Heriolf scouted him. "Hey," he said, "please yourself! But as for
Gudrid, let her alone. Why should she not hear what the world has to
say to her? What harm can come to a good girl? All kinds make this
world."
Gudrid, whose hair he pulled, as he spoke, in a very friendly way,
seeing his eyes twinkling and his lips twitching, coloured, but said
that she should like to be at the feast. It was true, but apart from
the truth, she would not hurt Heriolf's feelings.
"Of course you would like it," said Heriolf, greatly pleased. "I never
knew a handsome girl yet who did not like to be told about it.
Thorberg thinks a deal of handsome persons. You will find that she has
a wonder-deal to tell about you. And perhaps we shall learn what my
son Biorn means to do with himself when he comes home here, and finds a
flower in the garth." Gudrid coloured more than ever at this; but she
liked it. Thorbeorn waved his hand before him as though to brush
gossamer from his path, and stalked away with his chin in the air, and
his beard jutting out like a willow in the wind. He kept his word,
though; and took himself to bed when the feast began.
These were the preparations made for Thorberg's visit. A high seat was
set for her at the right hand of Heriolf's own, and upon it a cushion
worked with runes and dragons in knots, stuffed with hen's feathers.
That had to be wherever she went. Then she must sit in the chief place
at the table, beside the giver of the feast, and her food must be seen
to. First she must have a mess of oats seethed in kids' milk; then,
for her meat, a dish made of the hearts of animals. Gizzards, too, of
birds, and their livers, must be in it. There were to be set for her a
brass spoon, and an ivory-hilted knife with rings of bronze upon the
handle. She had a great horn for a beaker, adorned with silver; and
then her drink was to be hot mead, with spices and apples floating in
it. Heriolf saw to everything.
When all was ready, and the guests expected, a man was sent out to her
house to bring Thorberg to the feast; and when all the guests were
gathered, but by no means before, in she came. She was a tall fair
woman, blue-eyed, broad-shouldered and of large presence. She had a
wild, rich, comely face. She was dressed in a black robe which gleamed
and reflected light. It clung to her as if she had been dipped in
water. Silver clasps held it under the bosom, and from neck to foot it
was set with large blue stones. Round her neck she had a string of
beads, of red amber, as large as seagulls' eggs. She walked with a
staff, knotted with amber; on her head was a hood of black lambskin,
lined with white. There was a girdle round her loins made of dried
puff-balls strung together, and a fishskin pouch hung from that, in
which were the charms she used in her prophesying. Her shoes were
calfskin with the hair outside, and were bound to her ankles with broad
leather thongs. She had gloves on when she came in--catskin gloves
with the hair turned inwards. So dressed, holding herself high and
queenly, she stood in the doorway, and said, "Hail to this house," in a
deep voice, like a bell. Then she took off her hood and gloves and
gave them to him who attended upon her, while Heriolf came up to her,
took her hands and kissed them, saying, "Sibyl, you are welcome."
After Heriolf all the company came crowding about her and saluted her
as if she were a princess. To some she was gracious, at some she
stared as if she could see through them to the wall beyond, at some she
muttered with her lips and looked about, as if she were uneasy till
they were gone. All the women curtseyed and kissed her hand, and
presently Heriolf brought Gudrid to her. Gudrid did not kiss her hand,
but curtseyed and spoke her fairly. Thorberg frowned, not unkindly.
"And who art thou, my child?"
Gudrid said, "I am a stranger, not long come to Greenland. I am
Thorbeorn's daughter, of Bathbrink in Iceland."
"You have a good face, and a fair one," said Thorberg, "and yet you
will not kiss my hands." Gudrid coloured and looked down. "Perhaps
the day will come when you will kiss them," Thorberg said. "It would
be no shame to you to do it."
Gudrid then said, "I will do it now if you will let me." But Thorberg
patted her cheek and said, "By and by." The people thought that Gudrid
had shown good manners by offering and that Thorberg was pleased with
her.
They spread the table for the feast, and Gudrid served the guests with
the other girls of the house. Thorberg sat by Heriolf, and said very
little, which was all to the good, since it made men treasure what she
did say, and find more in it than may have been there. Then, when the
tables had been cleared, Heriolf stood up and asked her if she had been
well-treated. Thorberg said, "You have given me your best, Franklin.
No one can look for more."
"Would it please you, then, to reveal certain things to the company?"