Meadowland Tom Holt

by Meadowland (lit)

  'Where'd you get that?' Eyvind demanded.

  'Off the blacksmith,' Kari said with his mouth full. 'He had plenty, he won't miss this one.' Eyvind sucked in a deep breath, like a disapproving viper. 'Or this one either,' Kari added, flicking another apple at him with an unexpected twirl of the wrist. Eyvind had to use both hands to catch it before it hit him in the eye.

  'Thanks,' Eyvind grunted; but he took the apple.

  'Welcome.' Kari crunched. 'Not that they're up to much, compared to what we used to have back home. Too small and dry, sort of a dusty taste.'

  Eyvind nodded. 'Same with the pears,' he said. 'But you can't fault them on grapes.'

  Kari looked up and grinned. 'Grapes aren't everything.'

  'That's no lie,' Eyvind said, with feeling. 'Remember that crazy German, Tyrkir? We never did find any more vines.

  'We didn't really look,' Kari answered. 'Not after that autumn, with Thorvald, when there wasn't any booze.'

  'Well, of course not,' Eyvind grumbled. 'No point looking for what isn't there.'

  It was a bit like watching a fencing match, an exhibition bout between two former champions, now old and retired. As they bickered, they deliberately left an opening for the counter-attack, and from time to time they rested, under the guise of momentary agreement. I tried to imagine what it'd be like, this kind of measured, bloodless sparring, day after day for more than fifty years. Was it the itch you never can quite reach with your fingernails, or did there come a time when there was nothing else left? 'Eyvind was telling me,' I broke in, 'about how Freydis the daughter of Red Eirik tried to persuade the Iceland merchants, Helgi and-' I frowned. 'Helgi and what?'

  'Finnbogi,' Eyvind muttered.

  'That's right. Anyway how she tried to talk them into a partnership, to go back to Meadowland and start a logging operation.'

  Kari clucked, like an annoyed chicken. 'That woman,' he said. 'You know, I reckon she was the worst of the lot. Has he got to the bit where-?'

  'No,' Eyvind said sharply 'Don't say anything, you'll ruin the story.'

  Kari smiled. 'I'll leave that job to you, then,' he said. 'Don't mind if I just sit here and finish my apple?'

  Eyvind sighed. 'Go ahead,' he said.

  *

  When they announced their plan (Eyvind said), nobody was all that surprised. Word had got around, so we were all prepared for it.

  The brothers came back from Iceland with a full crew, thirty men - about ten of their original crew and twenty Icelanders, half a dozen of them fetching their wives along with them. When Freydis saw the six women she was livid; the Brattahlid people were sure she was going to call the whole thing off, but she calmed down quite quickly and let the matter drop without saying a word. A term of their deal, we learned, was that Freydis would take thirty men on her ship, and the brothers would have the same number on theirs. Finnbogi said that since he and his brother had allowed some of their crew to bring their wives, it'd only be fair to let Freydis's crew do the same, so that it'd be the same for both parties. Freydis went along with that, and there the matter rested. Finnbogi said he was sorry for breaking the agreement, though he couldn't help mentioning that the agreement said thirty men each, and didn't mention women at all, so there hadn't actually been a breach. Then he thanked her for being so reasonable.

  Freydis had been going to announce who was in her group as soon as the brothers got back to Greenland; but she put it off, saying she'd wait till everything was settled. I think the main reason was that she couldn't find enough men willing to go. All of us who'd been there before said no, we weren't going, no matter what we were offered - money land, anything. That put a lot of people off joining, as you'd expect. There's always some, though, who won't listen; and you can bet that they'll be the ones that no sensible captain'd choose. Time went on; the brothers and their thirty-six Icelanders were sitting around at Brattahlid, waiting for Freydis, and she was getting desperate. She'd managed to scrape together twenty men out of the two Greenland settlements, but that was all.

  The day she came to Herjolfsness, Kari and I were in the barn. I was up in the hayloft, Kari was down below- 'It was the other way around,' Kari interrupted. 'I was in the loft, pitching hay down to you. That's how come she spoke to you first.'

  Eyvind frowned. 'You know what, he's right. I'd been up top in the morning, but at midday we changed places.'

  'Told you,' Kari said with a smirk. 'His memory's not what it was, see.

  'My memory's fine,' Eyvind snapped, as though Kari had touched a nerve. 'But it's just a detail, it's not like it matters, and it was a long time ago. All right?'

  Kari shrugged. 'I was just pointing out, you got it wrong. 'Fine. I got it wrong. Can I get on now, please?'

  Like he just said (Eyvind continued), I was down below; he was chucking the hay down, I was picking it up and pitching it into the back of the small cart, so we could take it up to the stock on the middle pasture. We'd been at it all day and I had a headache, so when I saw a shadow in the doorway, I was glad of the interruption. I wasn't expecting Freydis Eiriksdaughter to come through the door.

  'You Kari?' she asked.

  Well, she caught me off guard. 'No,' I said.

  'Right, so you must be the other one, Bare-arse Eyvind.' I nodded. 'I'm Freydis, Red Eirik's daughter. But you know that.'

  'Yes,' I said.

  'Fine.' Freydis sat down on the tailgate of the cart and spread her skirts out; she was wearing blue, and the hem was muddy 'In that case, you know I'm sailing for Meadowland any day now I need you two with me.'

  Really, I didn't want to hear her say that, not when my head was already hurting. 'It's nice of you to say that,' I said. 'But it's not possible. Sorry.'

  'Balls,' said Freydis. 'I just saw Bjarni Herjolfson, he said he could spare you. So there's no problem.'

  That set my head off worse than ever. 'It's not as simple as that,' I said. 'For one thing, I've got a wife. Baby on the way'

  She shrugged, like I'd said something irrelevant. 'So? They can come too.'

  'Yes, but-' It's difficult, when you're talking to a farmer, and you're just a hired man. You don't know what you can say and what you can't. Sure, Freydis wasn't my farmer; but you can't tell someone who owns a whole fjord to fuck off and die. She'd complain to Bjarni and get me thrown out; or if she felt really insulted she'd send one of her men up to put his axe in my head, and then sort out compensation with Bjari afterwards. (Twelve ounces of silver was the going rate for a hired man back in the Old Country, but that was if the killing was unprovoked; if I insulted Freydis, in law that'd be assault, so she could claim a discount. I'd heard stories that back at Gardar she had a big wooden chest full of leather bags of silver, all weighed out and ready - twelve ounces for a hired man, a hundred for a farmer's son, and so on, to save mucking about. It'd belonged to Red Eirik, apparently and she'd helped herself to it when he died.)

  'Yes, but what?' she said. 'Look, I need a couple of men who know the country. I'm offering good terms: share in the profits and five ounces of silver each on top. That's more than either of you two deadbeats'll ever see.

  'You're right,' I said, 'it's a lot. But I'll be honest with you, I really don't want to go there again. That's all there is to it.'

  Freydis pulled a face. 'Scared.'

  'Yes,' I replied. 'And not just the leather-boat people. I have a bad feeling about the place. In fact, if you want my advice, forget about the whole idea. No good'll come of it if you go.'

  'Shut your mouth; she said, like she was scolding a dog. 'I don't give a fuck what you want, I need somebody who knows Meadowland, and you two've been there more times than anybody else. I've arranged it with Bjarni. You'll be well paid. That's the end of the discussion.'

  'Sorry,' I said. 'No.'

  'I don't take no from the likes of you,' she said. 'Call that friend of yours down here.'

  Well, I could do that. I shouted 'Kari!' a couple of times, but he stayed up there, and who could blame him? So after a bit she push
ed past me and scrambled up the ladder. 'You,'

  I heard her yell.

  A bit later she came down again, alone. 'Well,' she said, brushing hay off her skirts, 'that's settled, then.'

  I looked at her. 'Kari's agreed to go?'

  'He's coming,' she said, 'same as you, whether you like it or not. I'll send a cart for you when we're ready to leave.' Then she stomped out.

  'Has she gone?' Kari hissed down from the loft. I looked up, and saw his face peering at me round the edge of the hay

  'What did you say to her?' I asked.

  'Same as you,' he replied, 'but she wouldn't listen.'

  'Are you going?'

  'To Meadowland? Fuck that. No, I'm staying.'

  'She doesn't seem to think so,' I said.

  'Fuck her,' Kari said. 'Look, she can't make us go. What do you think she told Bjarni?'

  I shrugged. 'God knows; I said. 'We'd better have a word with him:

  So we did, that evening. When we told him we'd been talking to Freydis, he pulled a sour face. 'Her,' he said. 'Bloody woman. Look, you sure you want to go to Meadowland with her? She's nothing but trouble.'

  Kari opened his mouth to say something, but I got in first. 'Is that what she told you?' I said. 'That we want to go?'

  He raised an eyebrow. 'Don't you?'

  'Of course not,' I said. 'Told her so, as well.'

  'Oh.' He shrugged. 'She came busting in while I was in the smithy, told me you two'd sent a message to Gardar asking if you could join up. She'd come to ask me, as a matter of courtesy, if I minded. I said it'd be a pain in the arse, since it'd leave us short-handed, but if you two were dead set on going, I reckoned I owed it to you.' He frowned. 'That's not how it is, then?'

  'Too bloody right it's not,' Kari broke in. 'We wouldn't go back there for the otter's ransom, not after last time. We like it here,' he added. 'Don't we?'

  I nodded like crazy, and Bjarni shook his head. 'Well; he said, 'I'm glad to hear it. Quite apart from not wanting to lose two hands at this time of year, I wouldn't want you two to come to harm. And any trip she's organising-' He sighed. 'You two'd better watch your step,' he said. 'It's a bad idea, getting on the wrong side of Red Eirik's lot, any of them. But she's worse than Leif, if you ask me. Tell you what,' he went on, 'I'll put you on inside work and yard work till after she's sailed. I have an idea it wouldn't be safe for you out in the fields while she's still in the country.'

  We thanked him and went into the hall. Very thoughtful and considerate of him, but not exactly calculated to cheer us up. The best thing, we decided as we talked it over that night, would be if she found the extra men she was looking for pretty quick; then she wouldn't need us, and maybe she'd leave us alone. It wasn't looking hopeful, though, if she was prepared to come all the way from Gardar on the off chance of bullying us into joining.

  The next few days were a bit tense, but then we heard some good news: Freydis had found ten more men, which meant that she now had the full thirty she was allowed by the deal she'd struck with the Icelanders, and Kari and me were off the hook.

  The story of how she came by her new recruits made me all the more glad I wasn't going. By all accounts, they were the survivors of the crew of a ship that had belonged to a couple of berserkers, from somewhere in the Hebrides. Now you don't know what a berserker is, and you can count yourself lucky; they're a real pain in the bum, and it's a good thing that you don't hear of them nearly as much as we used to when I was a kid.

  Berserkers are men who like to fight; in fact, it's what they like best, more than good food or land or money or sex or anything. They aren't necessarily the best fighters around, but they always win, because they really aren't bothered one way or another whether they survive the fight or not - what they care about is killing you. You can't beat that. Doesn't matter how fast you are on your feet or how good your reflexes are or how hard you can hit or how long you practise sparring; deep down, you and me, what we want most out of a fight is to still be alive at the end of it. That's why the berserker wins the fight before it starts. They make the most of this, of course. They don't bother with mail shirts or helmets, because armour only weighs you down; but they'll have beautiful old swords, gifts from earls or dug up out of graves. Once they've got a reputation, they go around taking anything they want, doing what they like, anything to provoke a fight. Mostly, of course, sensible people clear out till they've gone away, but from time to time you get some fool who wants to make a name for himself, or who thinks that's what he wants until it's too late. Very occasionally, you'll hear of some farmer's son who's taken on one or two berserkers and sorted them out; and there's no better start in life for an ambitious young man, always provided he lives to tell the tale.

  These two berserkers - brothers, they were - started off in Denmark, till they got chased out by the king's men, so they got hold of a ship and thirty-odd men who were past caring what they did, and went raiding along the southern coast of Norway The king got fed up with this and sent five ships to deal with them, but they cleared out in time and headed for Iceland, where there aren't any kings to spoil things. They had a rare old time in the Eastfjords; and then for some reason they took it into their heads to try their luck in Greenland. But a storm caught them on the second day out, blew them way off south; one of the berserkers went over the side, and his brother jumped in to save him and got drowned too. By the time they made it to Gardar, only twelve of them were left, what with one thing and another; and two of them didn't fancy any more long sea voyages. Freydis gave the other ten a choice: join up with her, or get back in what was left of their ship and take a chance on getting back to Iceland.

  Well, that more or less put the lid on it, as far as we were concerned at Herjolfsness. If Freydis had men like that staying at Gardar, the sooner she set off on her expedition, the happier we'd all be. As it happened, the two men who didn't want to join up got slung out of Gardar and turned up on our doorstep. Bjarni Herjolfson was a hospitable sort as a rule, but even he was in two minds about having them under his roof. They told us their sorry tale, and promised faithfully that they were through with all the raiding and stealing and the viking stuff. Also, they said, they'd been wanting to quit for some time, but the berserkers were vicious bastards who didn't like anybody leaving the crew, so they hadn't dared. There might have been some truth in that.

  'It was terrible,' one of them said, a short, wide man called Bersi. 'They'd pace up and down the ship, grabbing people and bashing their faces and saying they'd chuck them overboard. One man tried to leave; he swam ashore during the night, and the brothers made us turn back and go looking for the poor bugger, and when we caught him they killed him right there, on the spot. They just didn't care what they did when they were in one of their moods.'

  Bjarni, who was obviously in two minds, asked them why the whole crew hadn't got together and stuck a knife in them while they were asleep, or rolled them over the side.

  'You wouldn't dare,' the other one said - Starkad, his name was. 'We talked about it, when they weren't there sometimes, but nobody had the guts for it. You'd make your mind up, but then you'd think, what if I'm stood over one of the bastards with a knife in my hand, and just as I'm about to do the business the bugger wakes up and sees what I'm about? No, we kept our faces shut and tried to get on with it. But we're really glad we're here now and not on that ship any more.

  As far as that went, I could see what he meant: he was glad to be out of a bad place, and so was I. Even so, I didn't want to have anything to do with either of them, just in case they changed their minds about giving up on the old ways. They gave the impression that they weren't in any hurry to leave, but they didn't seem inclined to work either, and that was unusual. When you go to someone's house and you're not anybody important, you can't just sit round in the hall all day with the women, when all the men are outside working; you feel an idiot, for one thing, and it's boring. Also, your host may be patient or laid-back, or he may not. I mean, everybody works, don't they? Even
rich farmers and earls get outside and work, if they're not crippled or anything like that.

  'Not here; I pointed out. 'Or hadn't you noticed?'

  Fyvind shrugged. 'Never could understand that,' he said. 'But then, you're Greeks. And it's so fucking hot here most of the time, I can see why you'd rather stay indoors and keep still, if you've got the choice.'

  I shook my head. 'That's not the point,' I said. 'Our nobles and rich men don't work - not what you mean by the word, anyhow - because it'd be demeaning. The fact that you don't have to shows you're one of the better sort.'

  'Well.' Kari made a gesture with his hands that was intended to signify universal tolerance. 'Like he said, you're Greeks, you've got a funny way of looking at the world. Mostly I guess it's because you value everything in terms of things - money, gold and silver, furniture, clothes, whatever. The man with the most stuff is on top. Back home, everything's about people. So, if you want everyone to think you're better than they are, you prove it by what you do, not what you have. Which is probably,' he added with a grin, 'the reason why the Eiriksons went to Meadowland. They had to outdo their father, or else they'd just be the Eiriksons for ever and ever; the only thing anybody'd have known about them was who their dad was. That's failure, far as we're concerned. Here, though, it means status and glory and power, which-' He sighed. 'I'm glad I don't understand you people,' he said. 'You could hurt your head bending it round that kind of notion.'

  Anyway (Eyvind went on), Freydis made her mind up about when she was setting off. Now she had her thirty men, she was in a hurry to get moving, so there'd be time to fell a load of timber and load the ships up before the end of the sailing season. She'd be cutting it pretty fine as it was, but the dangers didn't seem to bother her. She didn't come round Herjolfsness again, or send messages or anything, so we reckoned we'd been let off the hook.

  The night before she was due to set sail, me and Kari were up on the roof, patching a few places where the turf was getting thin, when the two berserkers' men, Bersi and Starkad- 'Maybe I should tell this bit; Kari interrupted.