Northern Frights
Page 37
My mother and Uncle Robert lit a torch and together walked through the snow to the side of the boat and touched an edge of the kindling. It burst into flames, circling Grandpa's coffin. The Akraborg pulled the funeral boat out onto the water, towards the horizon, then let it go. The flames grew higher and brighter and began to fade as the boat drifted into the distance.
We stood for a long time, watching. My mother and father held me between them and we wept.
Later the family went to Uncle Thordy's and drank a lot of coffee and people talked and sang and told stories about Grandpa, celebrating his life. Even we grandchildren threw in a few of the tall tales he had told us.
My mother gave me what Afi had left for me. It was a book he had carried with him his whole life, old and faded and written in Icelandic.
It was called Grettir's Saga.
40.
The next few days were a blur of meeting other family members and seeing a little of the country. I hobbled around on my sore foot and took as many pictures as I could. There was never much light, so I was pretty sure only a handful would turn out. We did celebrate Christmas at a relative's home east of Hvammstangi. There was lots of food, most of it looked wonderful, some of it gross, but I couldn't really eat much.
On our last day, as I was laying out stuff to pack, Sarah burst into our room. "Mordur's awake," she said, "and he wants to see you."
My father drove me to town and dropped me off in front of the small hospital, saying he'd come back in a little while. I went straight to Mordur's room.
He was propped up in bed, dozing. When I sat down in the chair next to him, he slowly opened his eyes.
"Angie, I have a big hurt in my head."
I laughed. "I'm not surprised. You've been through the wringer."
"Tell me what happened."
I told him what I could remember, but I knew I'd left quite a few details out. "I'll give you the full story in a letter," I said. I handed him back hid father's spearhead.
He took if from me and softly said, "thanks. This means lots to me." He smiled. "My last real good memory is sitting by the fire talking to you. You were going to speak all about yourself."
"I already did." I chuckled. He gave me a confused look. I explained that I had visited him while he was unconscious.
"I guess I was a good listener, I didn't interrupt you." He blinked. "You leave, today, right?"
I nodded. "In a few hours."
"Thank you for letting me show you around. It was ... " he struggled for words, " ... it was an honour."
"No problem," I said, getting up. I felt tears in my eyes, but blinked them back. "We could have had a lot of fun. If everything had worked out differently." I leaned over him and kissed him on the lips. "Promise me you'll take care of yourself."
"As long as you promise to come back."
"I will."
41.
Soon Iceland was far behind us and we were high in the air, the sun over one wing tip. Sarah was sitting beside me and Michael and our parents sat in front of us. The journey was quiet compared to our trip there, with Grandpa's long story about our Great Grandfather.
"They never end happily, do they?" Sarah said. "The old Viking sagas. They're not like fairy tales; they don't end happily."
"No, they don't," I said. Then it struck me how one saga kept leading into the next. Story after story. "But Sarah," I said, raising an eyebrow, "when you think of it, the sagas never, ever really end."
The End
Glossary.
Afi — Grandfather.
Bjúgnakrækir — A Christmas Lad whose name means "sausage snatcher".
Bless — Goodbye.
Draugr — Ghost.
Fardu burt — Go away.
Flydu — Fly or flee.
Fellivetur — Slaughter winter.
Flatkökur — Hard bread charred without fat on a griddle.
Gluggagægir — A Christmas Lad whose name means "window peeper".
Gódan dag — Good afternoon.
Gott kvöld — Good Evening.
Gravlax — Raw salmon cured in rock salt and dill.
Hangikjöt — Smoked lamb.
Hardfiskur — Cod, haddock, halibut or catfish that has been beaten and hung up to dry on racks.
Huldu Folk — The "hidden people", little elf — like people of Icelandic folklore.
Jólasveinar — Yuletide/Christmas Lads. 13 imps in the Icelandic Christmas tradition who visit, one a day,13 days before Christmas Eve. They leave little presents for the children in shoes that have been put on the window sill the night before. If the children have been naughty, the imps leave a potato, or a reminder that good behaviour is better.
Logga — Slang, shortened version of logreglumadur which means police officer.
Loup-garou — Werewolf. (French)
Lupinus — Wolf. (Latin)
Nordurleid — A bus line whose name means "North Way" or "North Route".
Pottasleikir — A Christmas Lad whose name means "pot licker".
Ragnarok — The final battle between the gods and the giants in Old Norse Mythology.
Skyr — A butter -like spread made from milk and sour cream. Icelanders eat skyr as a dessert with sugar or cream or fruit.
Stúfur — A Christmas Lad whose name means "itty bitty".
Svid — Singed sheep's head, sawn in two, boiled and eaten fresh, pickled or jellied.
úlfr-madr — Wolf man.
úlfslikid — Wolf thing.
Uppvakníngur — A spirit that has been awakened from the dead. Zombie.
Author's Note.
The question I am most often asked about the Northern Frights series is: "Where did you get your ideas?" It's a common question from teachers, students and other readers. The ideas for the stories about Sarah, Michael, and Angie came from some wonderful, inspirational Icelandic Sagas and Old Norse Myths. There are far too many to list, but I thought I'd mention a few of the most influential collections:
Myths of the Norsemen by Roger Lancelyn Green, published by Penguin Books ISBN 0 — 14 — 030464 — 9. This is a fairly easy read with illustrations. There's a good selection of myths and folktales, including Sigurd's epic battle with Fafnir the dragon.
The Norse Myths by Kevin Crossley-Holland, published by Penguin Books ISBN 0 — 14 — 00.6056 — 1. This is one of the most eloquent adaptations of the Norse Myths about Loki, Thor, Odin, and all the other gods. It's full of poetic language and extensive notes on the text. A warning though, it is also true to the bawdy nature of the original myths.
Grettir's Saga translated by Denton Fox and Hermann Pálsson, published by University of Toronto Press. ISBN 0 — 8020 — 6165 — 6. This would be tough slogging for younger readers, but you librarian and adult readers (I know you're out there) might be interested in reading this account of Grettir the Strong's life.
For anyone who wants to know more about Iceland just visit http://www.samkoma.com. Samkoma means "meeting place" and you can search for any topic under the Icelandic sun.
And finally if you have any comments or want to know more about the Northern Frights series, or about me, just drop by http://www.arthurslade.com
Bless,
Art
About the Author
Arthur Slade was raised in the Cypress Hills of southwest Saskatchewan and began writing at an early age. He received an English Honours degree from the University of Saskatchewan, spent several years writing advertising and has been writing fiction full time for fifteen years. He is the author of fifteen books, including "Dust" (which won the Governor General's award), "Tribes," and "The Hunchback Assignments." He currently lives in Saskatoon, Canada.
Connect with Arthur Slade online:
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Table of Contents
Book 1: Draugr
Book 2: The Haunting of Drang Island
Book 3: The Loki Wolf
Glossary