19 Chapter 19

The baptism ceremony was performed just before the wedding, and Leif accepted the entire process with obvious indifference. He hardly heard the pompous voice of Father Wilhelm, pronouncing with great importance the words of the prayer, hardly felt the holy water touching his brow.

In the middle of the ceremony, just as he was about to be entered under the wings of Jesus Christ, the face of Nathan the Jew suddenly appeared before his eyes, and he understood that it is all nonsense. He would have preferred to avoid the baptism if he could, but in his circumstances he had no choice, and eventually, it didn't matter much after all. She saw his excited mother - she was very pleased by him being baptised and marrying a Christian woman, while his father will not be very gratified by this circumstance. It will be interesting to observe the power struggle between him and Mother in Brattahlid, thought Leif, amused despite himself. The ability to find something amusing even in the most morose situations have long become a saving anchor for him.

Right after he was baptised, the priest began the wedding ceremony. He ordered Leif to kneel by Thorgunna's side, and made the appropriate blessings with a voice not too impressive, and without excessive piety. The reason for this, decided Leif, was probably that the church was nearly empty. The wedding was performed secretly, and the only ones present besides the couple were Thjodhild, Freydis, and His Grace the king. The bride and groom were dressed in simple, everyday attire, Thorgunna in a dress much more humble than those she used to wear everyday while she was a princess, a position she had just lost. Well, she has no choice but to get used to this, Leif thought to himself with resignation.

After they exchanged rings, Father Wilhelm pronounced them to be man and wife, and wished them a long, happy life. He sounded perfectly serious, and Leif wondered where he learned to be so reserved and self-controlled. He had no idea that this wedding did not particularly surprise the holy father, except for the groom's identity - a detail that became known to him only yesterday and caused him great wonder. He hastened, naturally, to share the interesting news with Ingvar Haraldson, and the two admitted this is a very fascinating turn of events. Soon, it will become widely known that Thorgunna, so beloved by the smallfolk, was married with such secrecy, without a proper ceremony, without a feast - poor child! - and banished from Norway in shame. This will not cause the people to love King Olaf better.

Thjodhild was the only one among the invited whose face expressed unbound joy, though she attempted to be more reserved due to the presence of the king, who approached the newlyweds with a grave expression.

"You are my niece, Thorgunna, blood of my blood," he said, "and despite the righteous anger that I feel, and the fair punishment I cast upon you, I hope you will find reasonable contentment in your life - and most of all, hope that it will be a life of sensible humility, as is appropriate for a woman in a position in which you chose to place yourself."

"Thank you, Your Grace," the princess replied humbly, "I hope a day will come when you are able to forgive me."

"It is a great comfort to me," the king went on, "to know that even there, in the remote corner of the world where you are about to make your journey, the purifying presence and good advice of Father Wilhelm will continue to guide you."

"What does His Grace mean?" Thorgunna asked in confusion

"Yes, what?" Father Wilhelm joined the inquiry, paling.

The king looked at him gravely, and continued in a tone of fake heartiness.

"I understand this is quite a surprise for you, o holy Father, but this decision enlightened my heart only today, just before dawn, when I was tossing in my bed and sleep evaded me. I cannot permit my niece to sail to a place full of idol worship, a place without a priest and a church. There must be a holy man who will take care to spread the message of our Lord Jesus, and who can accomplish this task better than you, Father Wilhelm?"

"I... I... I mean..." mumbled the horrified priest, whose fluent, convincing eloquence was suddenly all gone.

"What a good idea, simply wonderful, Your Grace!" Thjodhild exclaimed happily. "I will personally take charge of constructing the church, and I am certain my husband will give his consent as soon as the light of the true faith shines upon him. He cannot remain indifferent after meeting Father Wilhelm."

The king bestowed upon her a nod of consent.

Father Wilhelm remained mute with indignation. What a terrible notion! The king could not have thought of anything worse! That he should go to Greenland, in a place full of pagans, to freeze half to death and go out of his mind with boredom and loneliness! And one can easily imagine what the situation there is like regarding food and drink, and clothes and firewood! And anyway, why should he put himself at risk? And why did the king decide to be rid of him so suddenly? The question burned in his mind, torturing him, but naturally, he could not put it in words, and only said with a slight inclination of his head:

"Of course, Your Grace. Your word is law."

Leif noticed the lack of enthusiasm on the priest's side and pitied him slightly. He is about to arrive at Brattahlid, the stronghold of Erik the Red, who despises Christianity! He is not to be envied. The destiny of the priest, however, occupied Leif for no longer than a moment. He had more important things to consider just then. He looked at his bride's face, her beautiful young face, which lit up with innocent simple happiness. The narrow golden ring he had given her shone on her slim finger.

The king turned to go. He was a clever man and knew how to make the best of every situation. He knew he had attained his goal, even though at a dearer price than he planned to pay - Leif Erikson had been baptised, and his own priest will be sent to Greenland, what will create firm ties between that place and Christian Norway. Also, hints he had received lately made him think that perhaps he might benefit from a greater distance between himself and Father Wilhelm. In remote Greenland the holy father will have no temptation to get himself involved in lowly intrigues.

Of course, having to give up his niece was a painful blow. It was bitter humiliation - a humiliation that would only grow when more details of the business are revealed, as will inevitaly happen, to the smallfolk. But if Greenland will declare its fealty to Norway in a clear, irrevocable way, perhaps his sacrifice might well be worth it, after all.

When Freydis heard him calling her name she recognized his voice, of course, but attempted to feign deafness. She went on with measured steps, not too fast or too slow, and ignored his steps, unusually brisk, that gained distance towards her.

"Freydis!"

She turned around. He stood before her, dressed, as was his habit, in well-cut, costly garb. He stool tall as always, and his back was as straight as usual, but a hint of discomfort stole into the smile that spread over his fox-like face.

"Ingvar."

"I thought I would not be able to catch up with you. I wanted to give your brother my most sincere wishes of happiness, health and wealth, and a prosperous long life, on the occasion of his marriage."

She looked surprised, but not too much so. "So you already know this as well?"

"I might not be a very ardent follower of the church," Ingvar Haraldson replied, "but this doesn't prevent my close ties of friendship with Father Wilhelm."

"And have you never thought," Freydis spoke in a whisper that shook with anger, "that this insolent priest might be the one who..."

"Who revealed our plan? No, it seems unlikely. I have never told him, and he is too cautious to ask such a thing. No, our mistake was in involving too many people, far too soon. I am certain that is how our plan was uncovered."

She did not reply, she merely looked at him, and her face was expressionless. He looked around, to make sure no one is eavesdropping, and went on in a lower voice:

"I still maintain that it was an excellent plan. It is a pity everything went so badly wrong. Perhaps after some time had passed..." he trailed off.

"Well," Freydis said indifferently, "what you do is no concern of mine anymore."

The expression of discomfort upon Haraldson's face became more prominent, and his voice, when he spoke, was unusually quiet.

"I have heard of what... what had happened to you," he said, "and I am glad Svein Einarson got what he deserved. I always knew he is a beast in a man's garb, but I never imagined he could..."

"That he could take off the mask at the moment he believes he has no more reason to restrain himself?" Freydis snapped bitterly. "I don't suppose you have given it enough consideration, Ingvar."

"Trust me," he said, and she had never heard such sincerity in his voice before, "I will never deal with people of this kind again."

"Again, this no longer concerns me," repeated Freydis.

"I am truly sorry..."

"Do not bother to pretend that you care!" Freydis said angrily, forgetting to lower her voice. "You never cared - not about what happens to me, anyway!"

"Why do you speak so, Freydis?" he looked hurt. "I have always liked you. If only I had known..."

"You would have given up on everything, just so as not to put me in danger, wouldn't you?" the corners of her mouth twisted in a bitter smile.

"I would have given up on the liaison with Svein Einarson. I should never have trusted him, I felt relieved when I heard that we are rid of him... and according to the rumours," he went on cautiously, "it was your husband, Thorvard 'the Bull'..."

"I do not know what else you heard and from what source, but from me you will obtain no more knowledge, Ingvar," Freydis said decisively.

"But he sails with you, does he not?" inquired Ingvar, and there was something more than usually sly in his look. "The very man to whom, as you expressed yourself so warmly, you are no longer connected in any way?"

"I wish I were never connected to you in any way," Freydis hauled at him bitterly and began walking away. She no longer heard the sound of footsteps behind her back. It appeared that Ingvar remained rooted to his spot.

While he stood on board of the ship and watched the coast of Norway fading away, Leif pondered all that had happened since he arrived at the shores of this land, now better known to him, but in many ways still foreign. He thought that the possibility of him ever returning here is now very unlikely. Like his father, he was now an exile, a man destined to look for his place overseas. This didn't make him too sorry as far as only he was concerned, but in his heart rose once more feelings of guilt and pity towards the lovely young woman by his side, as she threw a last, desperate glance at the homeland that was fading away before her eyes.

He looked at Freydis standing beside Thorvard, close to him, happy, and Sygni held tightly in her arms. Both of them, thought Leif - he and Freydis - were determined not to be bound by marriage again, and now Freydis has reunited with her husband, while he found himself unexpectedly thrown into the arms of a woman whom he would never presume to address a mere few months ago.

The only one who looked displeased was Father Wilhelm. The expression of the priest's face was a mixture of sour, frustrated and cautious. The kind-hearted Thjodhild tried as much as she could to speak to him in soothing words and quieten his fears at the face of the journey. Well, thought Leif, if Mother decided to stand by his side, perhaps this fool might be able to present himself before Erik the Red without his knees buckling.

As for himself, he decided, he will try not to miss the moment when his father meets the priest. This promises to be highly amusing.