“Sure, there’s lots of stories about Lucky Leif. But which of the stories is true isn’t so easy to tell,” Niko explained. “There are two versions of the Vinland Sagas. One is called Saga of the Greenlanders and the other Saga of Erik the Red. In one Leif is credited with all the glory fer discoverin’ Vinland, and in the other his role is played down and Thorfinn Karlsefni and his wife, Gudrid, are the heroes.”
I’d learned about Leif Eriksson in school, but I’d never heard about the other guy before.
“She wants to hear stories about the shield maidens, Niko. That’s what she’s really interested in.”
I turned to see Louise in her Viking costume. She smiled at me.
“Shield maidens? Well, then fer sure you’ll be wantin’ to hear about Thorfinn Karlsefni. He sailed here with three ships and about a hundred and fifty men, a handful of women, and some young folk, too. We know from the sagas that Gudrid gave birth right here to her first child, a lad they called Snorri. He became the first European born in North America.”
“Snorri?” I snickered. “That’s even worse than my friend’s name — Thorbert.”
“Why Thorbert’s a perfectly respectable name. Don’t you agree, Miss Runa?”
Louise shrugged. “If you’re a Viking. If you’re a kid from the twenty-first century, it’s like wearin’ a sign — DORK HERE.”
“So you know stories about shield maidens?” I asked, changing the subject. “I’d like to hear some.”
“The first thing ya have to understand is how the Norsemen mixed their myths and history together in the sagas. Scholars have been tryin’ to unravel fact from fiction fer centuries.”
“Were shield maidens fiction?”
“No, I tink there really were some female warriors, though some scholars tink they were only Norse fantasy. Have ya heard about Hervor and Brynhildr?” I shook my head. “In that case ya fer sure won’t know about a young warrior who came to this very settlement with Karlsefni and his crew. In the stories she was known as Sigrid the Brave. Like all shield maidens, she rejected the traditional role and expectation of young women of her time. She refused to learn to cook or weave and showed no desire to be a wife or mother. Then along came baby Snorri, and despite her objections, Sigrid became his main caregiver. In fact, it was while he was in her care that she earned the name Sigrid the Brave.”
“Sounds like my kind of girl. Will you tell us about her?” I asked.
Old Niko smiled. “There’s an old Norse saying — ‘A man listens thus he learns.’ So make yerself comfortable, girls, and I’ll tell ya all about the brave young Sigrid.”
I scooted over, and Louise sat next to me. Then Niko began. His voice was just how a storyteller’s should be — deep and soothing. I could feel him take us into the past to a time long ago.
“Now it came to pass that there was a young orphan girl by the name of Sigrid Thorbjornsdottir …”
As soon as Sigrid hears Snorri’s gentle, rhythmic breathing, she slips out of the bed and tucks him in tightly. When she is sure he is fast asleep, she sneaks out of the longhouse and slyly makes her way to the firepit. Hiding in the shadow of the forge, she has a perfect view of the lively meeting. As chief, Uncle Thorfinn sits prominently on his chair while the men debate the issue at hand. Aunt Gudrid sits at his side. To some she might appear calm, but Sigrid notices she is wringing her hands.
“It is too soon to give up on the venture, Thorfinn,” booms Ellandar. “If we’re the kind of men who could be frightened by some wild-haired skraelings, we would never have left Greenland in the first place.”
“It doesn’t make a man a coward to respect his opponent. These savages may be wild, but they’re stealthy,” argues Ingerson. “And if they’re so harmless, why do you sleep so lightly at night? Could it be that you’re like the rest of us and don’t want to die in your sleep?” Many on both sides of the issue groan or grumble.
Uncle Thorfinn interjects. “Come now, Ingerson, we all know it isn’t a question of whether we die here or die at home. The important thing is to live and die in honour. Now don’t question Ellandar’s courage. Stick to the issue. Everyone can see that the best lumber has been depleted already, and over the past two years the hunting has become more difficult with fewer game animals around.”
As she watches, Sigrid’s chest heaves with pride. Her uncle is a wise man and speaks confidently. That is why the other men listen.
“Ouch!” she cries out when something hard hits her head. Fortunately, the debate is now lively and no one hears her.
“Shh,” Gunnar whispers. “What do you think Thorfinn will do if he catches you here?” He sidles up to his cousin.
“You brat. What did you throw at my head?”
Gunnar bends down and picks up a piece of slag left from the day’s forging.
She snatches it from his fingers and flicks it at him. “Now shut up. I’m trying to hear the debate. They may be close to a decision.”
“My father says there’s no way a hundred and fifty Norsemen will come to an agreement in one night.”
“Then, if he must, Uncle Thorfinn will decide the matter. He’s the leader, after all — hand-picked by Erik the Red himself.”
“We all know what Thorfinn wants to do — he’d have us tuck our tails like frightened dogs and let the skraelings have this land.”
“Careful with your words, Gunnar. You already know I can best you with the sword and in arm wrestling. Want to find out what I can do with my knuckles?”
Gunnar frowns. “You know, one day I’ll be a full-grown man. I’d like to see you take me then.”
Sigrid leaps onto her cousin and pins him to the ground. “Do you think I want to return to Greenland? I assure you, nothing awaits me there but a very old man who wants me for his bride. But Uncle Thorfinn is wise, and if he says we must leave, then so be it.” She frees the boy and sits on the ground next to him. “He says our best chance to get home before winter sets in means we’ll have to leave within the next two fimmts, perhaps on Odin’s day or Thor’s day.”
As the two watch silently from their hiding place, Sigrid cannot help think what her future offers. Her uncle said that the ways of the Norsemen have changed and many warriors had turned their hand to farming instead. If there is no chance for her to fight in battles, then what is left for the likes of her?
The Thing drags on, and Gunnar loses interest. After he slips away to his warm bed, Sigrid decides she, too, has had enough of hiding in the shadows. She will learn what is to happen soon enough, she thinks, and steals back to the longhouse. Sigrid is chilled and would like to crawl in beside Snorri. But after a quick feel of his damp bed she changes her mind and slides into her own bed instead without a bit of guilt. Let Aunt Gudrid clean him for once, she thinks as she drifts off to sleep.
Long after the cock crows the settlers sleep on. Sigrid can feel that the morning is wearing on by the cracks of light that seep through the chinks in the sod house. Soon she hears the banging of pots as Aunt Gudrid makes ready the morning meal.
“What was decided last night?” Sigrid asks while her aunt heats the fish stew.
“I thought you knew? You were spying, weren’t you?”
Sigrid’s face feels warm. “Spying? I, ah … well, maybe just a little. Gunnar was, too. But I couldn’t stay until the end.”
Sigrid notices for the first time that Gudrid looks almost happy. “We’re leaving soon, girl, and there’s much to do in preparation. We must start right away, and everyone will need to help.”
Sigrid feels numb and flops onto the bench.
“We’ve all been assigned jobs. You’re to boil and prepare the fungus mats,” says Gudrid.
Suddenly wide awake, Sigrid howls, “Me? Why me? That’s the most disgusting job in the world. I don’t want to stand over a stinking pot of Norsemen urine. I’d rather die at the hand of an ogre.”
“I thought you might feel that way. But since dying isn’t an option, you’ll be in charge of the fungus mats. You
’re always saying you don’t like women’s work, so there you have it.” Gudrid can barely conceal her glee. For once she has the upper hand.
“Perhaps I should watch over Snorri instead and let you do that work. After all, I’m just a girl. I can help dry the fish and collect firewood, too.”
Gudrid snickers into her apron.
“Thanks, Niko. I really enjoyed hearing about Sigrid the Brave,” I said when Niko’s story came to an end. “It’s really cool the way the Beothuk tried to help her.”
“Yah, the settlers realized this the moment they found the bear’s body riddled with arrowheads. Then they realized the arrow points were made from discarded iron slag and spent iron nails from behind the forge. It was most unsettlin’,” said Niko.
“Is that because it showed the Beothuk were capable of sneaking into their village?” asked Louise.
“Exactly. It showed the Norsemen the potential danger they faced as long as the two were enemies.”
It was time I went back to the cook tent. I was already in the doghouse with too many people. I couldn’t risk being late and upsetting Bertha again. “Thanks, Niko. Can I come again and hear more stories?”
“Absolutely, Peggy. It’s what I do.”
Louise followed me when I left. “So when are the hob snobs goin’ to let us help with the excavation?”
There wasn’t an easy way to say this. “Ah, well … I don’t … I mean, it doesn’t seem …”
“I knew it. They’re not goin’ to let us, are they? I told ya this would happen,” Louise growled. I could see her anger simmering. “That’s my cave, you know. I found it. So what about that friend of yers? I thought ya said she wasn’t like the others.”
“She’s not, Louise. But Professor Brant has it in for her now, too. I don’t think she has any say in the matter.”
Louise growled some more. “What a big mistake it was to let ya see my cave. Now look where it’s got me.”
“I’d probably feel the same way, but I still think it’s better that the cave is going to get the kind of expert treatment it deserves. There’s no arguing that it’s going to be one of the most important sites in eastern Canada. They’ll probably make a documentary about it and show it on the History Channel.”
“Really? And who do ya think will get all the credit fer discoverin’ it?” Louise’s eyebrows were furrowed deeply. “Ya know, it isn’t so much that they’re goin’ to get all the credit. What hurts more is that they won’t even let me be part of the excavation.”
Louise was right. It was bad enough I’d been banned, but they didn’t need to punish her, too. If she hadn’t been curious and made the discovery, they’d still be digging in a pretend excavation site with Tinkertoys and other junk in place of real artifacts.
“If I can, I’ll try to talk to Eddy, okay? I know they’ll never let me, but maybe she can find a way for you to get in there.” When we parted, Louise looked a tiny bit hopeful.
After I got back to the cook tent, Bertha had already cooked the noodles for the lasagna. “Good, just in time to do the layerin’,” she said. “I’ve got to start on the pies.”
As I worked, I played over in my mind the story Niko had told about Sigrid the Brave. She was definitely my kind of girl. When I accidently poured tomato sauce onto my shirt, it made me think about Sigrid’s bloodstained tunic and how her life had ended. Then there was me — destined to die of boredom.
“Hi, Peggy,” Eddy said when she came in for supper. My face flushed, and I tried to avoid eye contact. “I thought you might want to eat your supper with me.”
I looked over at the tables of students and the other professors and knew what their reaction would be if I was to pull up a seat with them all.
“I meant just the two of us. I thought you’d like to hear what’s been happening.”
“Thanks, Eddy, I’d like that. But I don’t know if Bertha will —”
“If Bertha will what? I’m not the ogre’s wife, ya know. Ya have to eat, after all. Ya might as well do it with yer friend.” Bertha smiled as she held out a tray to me. “Well … go on then.”
“How have you been holding out?” Eddy asked after we tucked ourselves at a table far from the crowd.
I shrugged. “Oh, you know — hunky-dory, peachy-keen, A-okay. And despite Bertha’s best efforts, I’m still not a very good cook.” I fiddled with my food while trying to think of the words I needed to say. “I hope you know how sorry I am about all the trouble I’ve caused you, Eddy. And I hope you believed me when I said I wanted to tell you all about the cave when I first learned about it. That day I went there, I was hoping to figure out how to honour Louise’s wish while also letting you know about it. I would have told —”
“Peggy, I know you have a good head on your shoulders. That’s all water under the bridge now.”
I thought about what Niko had said about the pole of scorn and was glad Eddy wasn’t a Viking and that vengeance wasn’t her style.
“Don’t you want to hear what’s going on at the cave site?” Eddy asked.
“You know I do,” I protested. “It’s been on my mind practically non-stop.”
“It’s incredible. I’ve never seen a cave like it. The pictographs alone will keep some lucky archaeologist busy for years. Then there are the artifacts littered throughout the cave. You probably didn’t see them because it was too dark. And, of course, there’s the rock cairn, too.”
“Did you begin excavating it?” I asked anxiously.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. It’s amazing and yet puzzling, too.”
“What’s amazing and puzzling?” I asked impatiently.
“We don’t understand what it means yet. And maybe we never will.”
“Are you trying to drive me out of my mind? What’s so amazing and puzzling, Eddy?”
She laughed. “Some things never change. Okay, when we removed the pile of rocks we found —” she bent closer to me as if she were telling a secret “— a huge animal skull. We think it’s a bear, but we’re not certain. We have a zooarchaeologist coming tomorrow to help us identify it.”
“A zooarchaeologist?”
“Yes, an archaeologist who specializes in animal remains and how they relate to human activity.”
“So this person is going to be able to determine what kind of animal it is?”
“Yes, and most likely tell us the exact species, something about how the head was severed from the animal’s body, the age of the animal, maybe a cause of death — all sorts of things, I imagine.”
“Maybe the Beothuk worshipped bears. Or maybe they were honouring it after they killed it for its fur,” I said.
“Those are good suggestions for why they might have buried an animal’s skull in what was clearly a very sacred place. The cave paintings seem related, too. But I’m glad the zooarchaeologist is coming. She’ll be able to help us solve some of this. I’ll keep you posted.”
I was totally bummed out and excited at the same time. What I wouldn’t give to be at the site the next day. “Thanks, Eddy. I appreciate hearing the news. No one else will even speak to me, let alone give me any information. So I’m glad things between us are good.”
“You’re a good kid, Peggy. Impulsive and misguided at times, but I know you care and would always try to do what’s best for the protection of the site. And when the others take the time to get to know you, they’ll see that, too.”
Then I remembered Louise. “You know, none of this would be going on if it wasn’t for Louise. If she hadn’t found the cave, who knows if or when it would have been discovered. It’s not fair that she’s not allowed to be part of this excavation.”
“I know what you mean. And I agree she hasn’t been given the recognition she deserves. I’ll put a good word in but can’t promise anything. After all, my name is mud, too.”
Knowing that Eddy’s reputation was marred because of me made my heart ache. “I’m sorry, Eddy. I know that’s my fault.”
“No hard f
eelings. Do you think this is the first time I’ve been in hot water? Why, I’ve probably been in more trouble than you ever will.”
Now that seemed hard to believe. “Really? You always know what the right thing is to do.”
“Sure … now, but I was young once … and impulsive, lacked judgment, and got into plenty of trouble. Seems for some of us it’s the way we learn.” Eddy smiled and ruffled my hair.
That night I fell into bed and dropped off to sleep without any trouble. Even Bertha and all her noises didn’t bother me. It definitely helped hearing about what was going on at the site, but mostly I was happy knowing Eddy and I were still good friends.
Chapter Nine
I’d been at L’Anse aux Meadows for two weeks. In that time I’d managed to turn the entire archaeology field school against me, botch a lot of meals and jeopardize Bertha’s job, get Louise banned from the cave she’d found, and ruin Eddy’s good reputation.
I came to Newfoundland thinking I’d be her teaching assistant and take part in an excavation. Instead I’d been banned from getting anywhere near the field school, the students, and the cave site. On top of that I was now Bertha’s kitchen elf, allowed out only when every pot was washed and the next meal prepared. The only thing I had to look forward to was news from Eddy about the cave excavation. Beyond that, my only goal was to stay out of further trouble.
At lunchime that day Eddy said, “Peggy, this is Dr. Natasha Soleil. She’s the expert in animal remains I told you about.”
“You’re a zooarchaeologist, right?” I hoped I’d said it right.
“Yes, I am. And you, I hear, plan to be an archaeologist, too, one day. What area do you think you’ll specialize in?” Dr. Soleil asked.
“I want to be an osteologist, like Eddy.”
Eddy smiled. “You might change your mind when you get older. Perhaps you’ll find animal bones more to your liking — learning how early people used them for tools and weapons and how they harvested them. I know I’ve learned a lot from Dr. Soleil already.”
A Bone to Pick Page 10