Leif Erikson and the Frost Giant

by Mark Philipson

  Bjarte went to work. “I think I’ve got it,” he said. “The nearest water hole, as represented by this area of blue color here, is about 12 vika away.”

  “You can reason how far it is in sea miles from the colors on the cloth?” Leif asked.

  “If what the skull says is true, the answer is yes,” Bjarte replied. “I’ll say that what we’re seeing on the cloth is relative to the skull’s position to the objects in front of it and is represented by color change brought on by temperature from ground to plants to water.”

  “What are you saying here?” Leif was puzzled.

  “If this thing works as I think; the areas of color that are not red will appear to be closer as the skull gets closer.”

  Maps that changed with position. Leif thought about this and what it could mean. He could see Miakmoo mounted on a ship, guiding the way across the trackless ocean.

  The party moved on. Bjarte followed Nogwinto, holding the piece of cloth ahead of the skull. As Bjarte said, the areas of blue color on the cloth seemed to grow larger as the day wore on.

  Twenty-six

  At the Ice Wall

  TWO days of following the sled tracks then walking sideways to find the nearest water hole passed. Leif shaded his eyes as he looked ahead to a horizon that narrowed into white cliffs on one side towering over blue water on the other.

  “Nogwinto says you can see the Ice Wall,” Draskawindit said.

  “Indeed,” Leif answered. There could be no mistake. “Are there water holes nearby?” he asked.

  “The water holes are behind us now,” Draskawindit replied.

  Leif didn’t know what to do. If they turned back now, they would have to cover the same distance to get back to this point. They had enough dried fish to last another day. Ice could be melted for water. An idea came into his head: if light could come from Miakmoo, would the same hold true for heat. Bjarte had told Lief that light and heat are one and the same. This was known. In Greenland, if a man stood in the sun and moved into the shade, he could feel the chill. If Miakmoo could provide light and heat and they had food and water there would be no need for a fire. The food could be stretched if the amount each member of the party ate was lessened. The party could camp here and not lose any ground.

  Leif told Bjarte what he was thinking. Bjarte listened carefully. He shifted his weight and rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Captain Erikson, what do you want from me?” Bjarte asked when Leif was done talking.

  “Speak to Miakmoo, ask if he can give us light and heat.”

  “What you’re asking me to do goes against my beliefs,” Bjarte muttered. He hung his head.

  Seeing Bjarte was uneasy, Leif asked the monk, “Which belief cries out the most?”

  “Both seemed to be equally at war with one another.” Bjarte looked up. “I don’t know where to turn. I’m not finding answers in my education and I’m not finding answers in the scriptures.”

  “Where have you found the best answers, in your education, or in the scriptures?” Leif asked.

  “You cut right to the heart of it, Captain Erikson,” Bjarte nodded then looked around. When he saw no one was within earshot he continued, “Speaking honestly, as one man to another, the best answers have come from what I’ve learned in books. My allegiance to the Church outweighs what I’ve learned. I only became educated because of my ties to the Church.”

  Leif could see Bjarte was a man divided by three forces: what he could see in this new world, what he had learned in the old world, and the old world beliefs that nurtured him. Leif took pity on Bjarte. Being a man of letters seemed to carry a weight that couldn’t be measured. Leif would sooner be a man of action every day of the week.

  “Look at it this way,” Leif said. “You may be learning things that lay at the core of science …” Leif let that sink in, then he added, “… and you may be talking to the Holy Spirit.”

  “Captain Erikson, I understand what you mean — find a way to accept all this,” Bjarte said. “I will do this. I will talk to this skull.”

  The back and forth from Norse to Beothuk began. It took three exchanges between the tongues before Nogwinto understood. Nogwinto spoke to Miakmoo then passed Miakmoo’s message on. “Miakmoo wants to know. How much light and how much heat?”

  Bjarte lowered his head and covered his eyes. He seemed to be lost in thought. He raised his head. The dark pieces of his eyes had stretched out to the edges of the colored pieces. Bjarte looked at Nogwinto and replied in the Beothuk tongue.

  Light leaked from every part of the skull. The area around Miakmoo glowed as if it were cast in the mid-day sun. After three more exchanges between monk and skull, Bjarte lowered his head again. He rubbed his eyes then looked up. The darks of his eyes had shrunk. “It is done,” Bjarte told Leif. “Miakmoo will spread heat into the light as the night wears on. We can make camp here.” Bjarte laid out his bedroll. He was snoring as Leif said, “Get some sleep.”

  ■ ■ ■ ■

  After walking most of the next day, the sled trail ended. Cliffs covered in ice rose above a narrow strip of low lying land leading to the water. Rumbling and crashing noises could be heard in the distance.

  “What are we hearing?” Leif asked Draskawindit.

  “What you hear is what happens when the Ice Wall meets the water.”

  The party pressed on. They rounded a point of the wall that jutted out into the land. On the other side of the point, the narrow strip separating the cliff from the waters of the bay became even thinner until disappearing in the distance. It was at this point that the Ice Wall and the bay became as one. It was at that moment Leif saw the source of the noise: a great shard of ice splintered from the wall. It cracked as loud as ten thunderclaps filling the air. The massive piece of ice fell into the bay. Streams of white water rushed up then fell back down. Waves rose up from the calm waters. A circle of swells headed out to sea and slammed into the base of the cliff.

  “We should find a place to climb soon,” Leif said. They had to get above the falling ice before they got much closer to it. Drowning or being crushed, or both, lay ahead. The only option left was to go up.

  The party pressed on, the sun was low on the horizon when Leif, Nogwinto, and Jarl all saw a section of the wall that was not sheer from top to bottom. Outcroppings and ridges rose up the face. “We will make camp here tonight and climb in the morning,” Leif said.

  The party dropped their packs. Nogwinto set Miakmoo up on the spear-tip.

  Twenty-seven

  The Watcher in the Wall

  NOGWINTO looked up at the wall. He reached up, standing on his toes. Nogwinto’s fingers barely reached the first outcropping on the face of the wall. Standing back, Nogwinto set an ice knife at about knee height. He set one foot on the knife and stood, grasping the narrow ledge with his hands.

  On the ground, Jarl fed the end of a line through the hole in the hilt of the knife. With the line tied to a harness on his back, Jarl began the climb. Halvar secured the line to a knife into the ice at the base of the wall. He held it taught to keep it from fouling Jarl as he climbed.

  Nogwinto and Jarl made their way up the cliff. At the midway point, Halvar said to Leif, “We’ll be out of line soon.”

  “Three short tugs on the line,” Leif said. This was the signal that had been worked out before the climb began.

  Nogwinto and Jarl had stopped on a ledge wide enough for them to both stand on. They waited for the signal to move on.

  Halvar untied the line from the hilt of the knife. Kanute removed some coiled rope from his pack and handed it to Halvar. Halvar fed the line through the round hole in the hilt of the ice knife. He made a loop out of the incoming line. Halvar fed the tail end of the line going up the wall through the loop. He spun twelve even wraps of the wall line around the loop. The free end of the wall line went into the now tightened loop.

  With the two ends secured Halvar looked to Leif.

  “Three short tugs on the line,” Leif repeated.
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  Halfway up the Ice Wall, standing on the narrow ledge, Jarl felt the signal from below. The climbers pressed on. They followed the ledge as it wound its way up the face. Jarl rigged the line as Nogwinto led the way.

  Nogwinto stopped and raised his hand. The ledge dropped off then started again. Nogwinto balanced on the narrow ledge. Pressing his back into the wall, he spread his arms wide.

  On the ground, Leif had seen Nogwinto stop and throw the signal. Leif looked at the ledge. Sunlight glinting off the uneven surface of the ledge faded into the light blue shine coming off the sheer face of the cliff.

  Above the climbers, the next ledge looked to be about the height of two tall men. The ledge widened as it neared the top of the cliff.

  On the cliff, Nogwinto turned to Jarl and pointed to the ledge on the other side. He pulled out four knives from his pouch then set the pouch on the ledge. Leaning on one knee, Nogwinto drove a knife into the wall on the low side.

  Nogwinto stood, holding a knife in his left hand. He reached out to Jarl. As soon as he felt Jarl’s grasp Nogwinto stepped out onto the low knife and set the high knife into the ice.

  With the first two knives set, Nogwinto shifted his hand holds from left hand to right hand and footholds from left foot to right foot. The moment he changed holds Nogwinto reached out and set a high knife. Nogwinto fed a short line through the eyelet of the knife and tied it off. He lowered himself the set another knife for a foothold. Two more pairs of knives set in this manner brought Nogwinto to the other side.

  Nogwinto waited on the ledge while Jarl clambered across the gap and rigged the high and low knives.

  The rest of the climb was simple. Nogwinto and Jarl walked the ever widening ledge to the top. They set knives rigged with guide lines on the way.

  Jarl secured the guideline rig to the top with three ice knives. He tied short lines to the eyelets then fastened the lines to the main guideline coming up the face. When he finished Jarl walked to the edge. He raised his hands in the air and waved his arms — the signal for the rest of the party to climb up.

  As set forth by Leif, Nogwinto stayed at the top and Jarl climbed back down. Leif had decided to make Jarl the lead man on the guideline.

  As Leif stared at the wall he realized something he hadn’t thought of: what should the party bring with them — full packs or just enough supplies for each person to carry without endangering themselves and the rest of the party. Leif put the question to Bjarte.

  As always, Bjarte paid close attention, nodding as he listened. “As for the first part — even trying to carry full packs up that face would be asking to die. I think it would be better for each person to carry the least amount of weight. It is hard to foresee what would happen if we tried to haul full packs up by rope.”

  Leif had thought the same thing. He needed to consult Bjarte about it. Leif ordered the stores of dried fish to be passed out equally. When the pieces of dried poroshawn meat were handed over he said, “Draskawindit, being the lightest, will climb first. Bjarte will follow her. Kanute and Eluf will come next. Halvar will come after Eluf. I will be the last.”

  ■ ■ ■ ■

  Carathuk floated in a flooded cavern high up on the Ice Wall. From this vantage point — and looking through the white stone eye cups — he could clearly see the Vikings and the Beothuk woman scaling the wall. Much like the spear Carathuk carried and the rails on the sled he rode, the eye cups sent mind waves that effected his vision. Objects in water or on the other side of many layers of ice were as if being seen through air.

  Carathuk turned and swam away from the wall. He continued through the caverns that crossed the ice field. He followed the mind waves cast from white stones embedded in the ice. Every stone marker had been placed near an air pocket. At these air pockets Carathuk stopped and took in deep breaths then swam on.

  Twenty-eight

  On the Ice Field

  DRASKAWINDIT listened to Jarl above her as she climbed. He told her where to set her feet and how to hold onto the guideline. When they reached the first ledge Jarl crossed the rigged rope bridge first. Draskawindit watched closely. He waited on the other side. Draskawindit stood on the edge, shuffling her feet closer to the drop-off. With her back pressed against the Ice Wall, Draskawindit reached up and grabbed onto the nearest ice knife. She stepped out and swung over. Draskawindit faced the wall. One more swing put her back against the wall. She paused for a few seconds, setting her weight on the ice knife under foot. Draskawindit made the final swing to the opposite ledge. Jarl reached out and pulled her in.

  From his perch on the top of the Ice Wall, Nogwinto looked over while Draskawindit made the final ascent on the terraced ledge.

  Leif felt a two-pronged sense of relief: one, the wall had been cleared for the second climber, two, Draskawindit, the woman whose voice echoed in his thoughts, had made it to the top without incident.

  Now it was Bjarte’s turn. The monk stopped praying. He stepped up to the wall.

  “Perhaps you should have been watching Draskawindit climb instead of handling those prayer beads,” Leif said as Bjarte walked by.

  Bjarte, his face white as a sheet, turned and replied, “I called on the Rosary, asking for God’s guidance in this.”

  “Very well,” Leif shrugged.

  Bjarte stood and stared up at the towering Ice Wall. He reached out, steadying himself then fell to one knee, retching and spitting the food from his belly onto the ground. “I don’t know if I can do this,” He said when Leif walked up.

  “Perhaps not in that manner,” Leif replied. He had an idea: once a climber was on the ledge and across the rope bridge, it was a simple walk to the top. If lines were dropped from the top and fastened to a harness a climber wore, the climb up the sheer face could be aided by the people on the top.

  “Jarl!” Leif called out.

  Jarl climbed down, “Yes, skipper,” he said.

  “I don’t know if Bjarte can make it,” Leif said.

  “The monk looks weak,” Jarl nodded.

  “Halvar will go next. Climb after him. Take enough line to reach from the second terrace. Fasten the line to an ice knife.”

  Leif watched as Jarl climbed, playing out the line as he went. Jarl stood and waved when the line was secured.

  Bjarte strapped on a harness. Leif tied the end of the line hanging from the wall to the harness. “Remember,” Leif said, “this rig is meant to help in pulling you up, don’t keep your full weight on it. You must use your own strength to ease the tension on the line. Draskawindit, Halvar, and Jarl will keep tension from above.”

  “I can see that.” Bjarte looked up at the line hanging from the ledge. “‘What happens when I have to cross the rope bridge?” He asked.

  “You won’t have to cross the ropes. Jarl is bridging the gap between the first and second terrace now.” High on the face of the wall, Jarl stood on the narrow ledge of the first terrace. He tossed the end of the long line to Halvar. While Halvar secured the line Jarl set an ice knife low. He stepped up onto the hilt then reached up and set another. Jarl ran a short line through the eyelets of the knives as he continued toward the outcropping. The ledge jutted out above Jarl’s head. Halvar kneeled close to the edge. He called out to Jarl. Jarl pulled himself high, pushing his toes off the hilt of the ice knife. He drove the ice knife clenched in his outstretched hand into the outcropping. The blade tilted back toward the ground. Halvar grabbed onto Jarl’s arm and pulled him up onto the ledge just as the blade of the knife slipped out. Jarl caught the knife in his free hand.

  Leif watched Bjarte scale the wall. It took some time for the monk to get used to the feel of the tension on the line pulling up and how much he needed to pull with his arms and legs to offset this and find a balance. Bjarte was about two dozen stikas on the wall when he began making smooth hand over hand progress. He braced himself with his legs, easing the strain on his arms and shoulders.

  Bjarte stood on the wide ledge with the others. Jarl removed the harness and lowered i
t back down, Eluf went next. Kanute, the heaviest of the party, followed. Lief climbed last.

  ■ ■ ■ ■

  Carathuk saw a light ahead. He swam toward the glow. The light grew brighter as he neared the source. Carathuk surfaced in an air pocket. He looked up. A piece of sacred stone, cut into a shape taller than wide, lay on the ceiling of the cave. Carathuk knew these markers were made and put in place by the First Ones. The First Ones had settled this land long ago. They died out and passed it onto Carathuk’s people, the Second Ones. Now Carathuk was the last of the Second Ones left alive.

  Carathuk studied the etchings on the face of the stone. He searched his mind waves to recall what the etchings told him.

  Taking a deep breath, Carathuk dove and swam to a shaft leading up. Shafts of light fell from a hole in the distance.

  When Carathuk broke the surface he was in a lake stretching to sheer walls of rock and ice. Carathuk turned. He faced an island. A tower of solid ice rose from the center of the island to the ceiling of the massive cavern enclosing the lake.

  Carathuk swam to the island and walked ashore. He passed through an opening at the base of the tower. Carathuk climbed a circular stairway to the top of the tower. The highest point of the tower rose out of the lake and broke through the ice field. From where he stood, Carathuk could see the Vikings and Beothuk approaching.

  Twenty-nine

  Inside the Ice Tower

  CARATHUK reached up and pulled the long spear from its holder over the door. He walked through the tunnel and stood on the Ice Field. He walked across the frozen plain. Soon, the party of Vikings and Beothuk faced off with the White Bear-man.