30. The Missionary And The Sacred Stone

When Orm’s farm was built, a great stone was found thrusting up from the earth. No other stone like it stood anywhere nearby. It was about as tall as a man with features that were worn but very noticeable and some said they could see a face or faces in the stone. Everyone thought there was something special about it and men refused to pull it down when they built Orm’s house. So now it stood there in the yard.

Marta thought that a land-spirit lived inside the stone. Sometimes she spoke to it, just acknowledging its presence and the primacy of the spirit in that place. Other times, she asked for the land-spirit’s aid and then she left it gifts, dishes of milk that she placed on the ground or bits of silver that she buried in the earth. The farm did well and Marta’s children were healthy so far, so she thought that the land-spirit looked after them.

A Christian missionary named Albert had landed in the east and was going about talking to people about his religion. Eventually he came to Thorolf’s district. “I think this could be a problem,” said Thorolf, but he did not force the man to leave. Later, he regretted this.

Some farmers invited Albert to stay with them for a day or two and tell them about his faith. Most of them did so in order to win favor with Snorri the godi, who was believed to be friendly toward the new religion.

Eventually, Albert came by Orm’s farm and Orm said that he might stay the night and speak to anyone who cared to listen. Marta was less inclined to be hospitable but she prepared food for her guests and said nothing insulting. Ljot and Styr came by and Ljot was taken by Albert’s words. “I think there is something to this,” he told Styr.

Styr shrugged. “I don’t know. One god is like another to me. They all drink the blood of your horses and demand gifts and even then you can’t count on their help.”

Ljot shook his head. “This god doesn’t want blood. In fact, the Christians do not sacrifice.”

“Don’t sacrifice! Well, how do they celebrate then? How bring everyone together and feast?”

“I think they still celebrate,” said Ljot, “But I’m not certain as to the details.”

In the morning, Marta was outside talking to the land-spirit in the stone when Albert overheard her. “What superstitious nonsense!” he said. “You will only bring harm on yourself calling on these idols and false gods.”

Marta became very angry. “What do you mean, taking food from us and then insulting the being who protects our farm!”

“There is no being inside that stone, unless it is an unclean spirit,” said Albert. “I speak to you out of love so that you may learn the truth and keep your life free of error. But I will take no more food here, if that concerns you.”

Others gathered to hear what was going on. Albert began to preach to them, telling them of the White Christ and his love and power. Ljot was very interested and began asking questions. Albert answered them all and preached some more. Marta stormed inside to a room where she had an altar set up for Freya. She lit a ritual fire there and made certain preparations, then she began to chant and pray. Outside the house, whenever Albert paused, Marta’s chanting was heard. Some people laughed. Albert paid no attention but went on quietly speaking of his faith.

Albert had several men accompanying him. One, named Thorodd, became more and more angry as the laughter grew. Albert made a statement about Christ and Marta, inside the house, shouted a chant about horse sacrifice. The two statements together sounded like someone saying Christ was a horse’s ass. Asgrim, Thorolf’s grandson, burst out hooting with laughter. Thorodd raised his sword and rushed at him. “No!” said Albert, but it was too late. Thorodd brought his sword down and split Asgrim’s head in two.

Everyone was silent. Albert knelt in Asgrim’s blood and made the sign of the cross over his broken skull. “Jesus, accept this man who never had the chance to show his love for you.” Albert reached in his pouch and drew out a pinch of salt that he placed between Asgrim’s cold lips.

Thorodd said, “He was a mocking pagan who deserved to die!”

Albert faced him. “No. You are a fool and a slayer of men who must throw himself on the mercy of these people who offered us hospitality.”

“They will kill me!”

“Then pray that your murder will be forgiven so that you are resurrected in Paradise!”

“No! I will show you that I love Christ!” Thorodd caught his horse and rode away. Albert knelt by Asgrim’s body and bowed his head.

 

Word of what happened soon spread through the district. Thorolf got together a group of men, including Hallvard, his other grandson Ahmund, Colm, Gunnar, Frosti, Ketil, Thrain, and Orm. Styr rode with them, too, but Ljot stayed with Albert. Thorolf and his followers pursued Thorodd as he went south. Along the way they came across desecrated shrines and smashed idols. Thorodd had decided to please Christ that way.

Thorolf was close enough to Thorodd to see him climb into a boat and sail away to the south. The boat was headed toward the Vestmann Islands that lay off the coast of Iceland. Thorodd would find a ship there to take him to Norway. Thorolf got his own ship, but by the time they reached the islands, Thorodd was gone.

When Thorolf got back to the mainland, he found Snorri the godi waiting for him. “This is a terrible thing,” said Snorri.

“It is terrible that I could not catch that bastard,” said Thorolf, “I would have nailed him to a tree like that cursed god of his!”

Snorri nodded. “He committed an evil act and if he were anywhere around I, myself, would help you capture and kill him. But he is gone.”

“That stinking priest is still here!”

“Albert did not murder Asgrim. He tries to end killings. These Christians desire peace.”

“How can you say that after one of them killed my grandson!”

“The world does not shift all at once,” said Snorri. “These things need time. And Christians are no less human than other men and just as prone to foolish acts. The White Christ does not end the heat in men’s hearts. Or so Albert says. He says that Christ’s message is that men must overcome this heat...”

“I am hot now to spill Albert’s guts on the ground!”

“There is no honor in that. No one would oppose you, not even Albert. He would call on his god to receive his soul and you could slice him to pieces.”

“Then what?”

“Exactly. Neither I nor anyone else would avenge Albert. You would have his corpse. Then what?”

Thorolf breathed hard. Veins bulged in his forehead. Tears of rage flowed down his cheeks and he closed his eyes. Then men saw another party riding toward them. It was a small group and Ljot and Albert were among its number. Hallvard, who had been quiet, spurred his horse forward. Albert saw him coming and dismounted. He knelt on the grass, hands clasped in prayer. Hallvard swung from his horse and drew his sword. He hesitated and looked back. “Grandfather?”

Thorolf took in the scene. His eyes changed expression as he turned his mind to godi duties. Finally he said, “No. Do not kill him.” He rode up to Albert. “I do not know how long I can keep myself from killing you, Priest, so best you leave my district.”

“Yes,” said Albert. “I will leave Iceland. My mission has failed. I have only brought destruction here. I am a poor servant to my god and a bad exemplar. I am deeply sorry.”

“Just leave,” said Thorolf and rode off.

Ljot told Styr, “I am going with him. Tell Mother.”

“She will want to hear this from you.”

“There is no time,” said Ljot. “Tell her I will be back as soon as I have learned the magic language of priests and how to make their runes.” He smiled at his brother. “Be good to Freydis. I think you two were meant to be together.”

So Ljot sailed away with Albert who promised to take him to a place where he could learn to be a priest. Gunnora was unhappy, but comforted herself with the thought that Ljot would return. Styr decided to speak with Freydis at the first opportunity and, if she seemed suitable, ask his mother to help him make a match. He worried about that, since he thought his mother might object to a girl of such low social standing.

Snorri offered Thorolf a handsome gift worth the blood-price of a grandson, but Thorolf refused, politely, saying that he was unwilling to indebt himself to a Christian at that time. “I’m not a Christian,” said Snorri.

“Not yet,” said Thorolf, “But I can see there will be a decision time and I do not want to commit myself right now.”

Snorri nodded. Later, he offered the same gift to Hallvard. Hallvard thought about it for a while and then he accepted Snorri’s gift.