Burial Rites

‘I can’t leave you alone without some disaster befalling the lot of us.’


‘It’s hardly a disaster, Natan. You accepted Fridrik’s money for her; you should have known this was coming.’

‘I suppose you’re happy about this,’ he grunted.

‘Me? What has any of this got to do with me?’

‘You’ve been playing matchmaker all autumn long.’

I held out my hands for the bridle as he unsaddled his horse. ‘I have been doing no such thing.’

‘I suppose you have all been celebrating.’

‘No. Even Sigga seems confused about what has happened.’

He turned around to face me properly, raising an eyebrow. ‘Is that so?’

I nodded. ‘Fridrik’s leaping out of his pants for joy, but Sigga doesn’t seem so thrilled.’

Natan smiled then, and shook his head. ‘A couple of young idiots, the both of them.’ He gently took the bridle and saddlecloth out of my hand and placed them on the snow. His face was sober. ‘Agnes. My Agnes, I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have hit you.’

I didn’t say anything, but I didn’t resist when he took up my hand.

‘I have been talking with Worm, and he thinks I am distracted. Travelling too much in the damp. The dreams, they . . .’ His voice trailed off. ‘We’ve all behaved badly towards one another. I have not been myself.’

He released my hand and picked up the bridle and cloth. ‘Here,’ he said, giving them to me. ‘Put these away and I’ll see you inside.’ I turned to leave, but he held onto me. ‘Agnes,’ he said, gently. ‘I’m glad to see you.’

That night we shook with the same desires that possessed us as before. And when we woke in the wintered darkness, my body flushed with happiness at the knowledge that he slept beside me. If Sigga or Daníel woke and saw us lying there together they said nothing. I stripped his bed of blankets and placed them at the foot of my own.




MARGRéT RETURNED FROM THE DAIRY with another pan of milk. Outside the wind blew so hard that a hollow moaning could be heard.

Agnes leaned over and prodded the coals of the fire. ‘Shall I use peat or dung?’ she asked.

Margrét pointed to the dung. ‘Go on. We may as well keep the fire burning for as long as we sit here.’

‘Where was I?’

‘You were saying that Fridrik proposed to Sigga.’ Margrét gently poured more milk into the pot. It hissed as it touched the hot metal.

‘Sigga was terrified to see Natan after she’d agreed to marry Fridrik. Natan found her hiding in the storeroom. She told me later that he said he’d been unreasonable, and let his own grievances with Fridrik blind him. He’d given her his blessing, and said that if she wanted to marry a boy with neither a coin nor a name to be proud of, then that was her choice. He told me he was not going to stop two puppies from playing with one another.

‘I thought perhaps he’d realised that if Sigga married Fridrik, he wouldn’t have to see the boy’s face again. Wouldn’t have to worry about his money, hidden about the place.

‘The days of Yuletide flew past, and we did little to mark them. Natan sent Daníel back to Geitaskard, and I thought it would be like the old days when it was just Sigga and me. I wanted to clean the croft and prepare skate for St Thorlak’s Mass, but she’d lost interest in talking to me since her engagement to Fridrik. She’d become moody, lax with her work and forever gazing out the window. She’d jump when spoken to. Avoid eye contact. Natan had told her she might invite Fridrik to Illugastadir for a drink to mark Yuletide, but he hadn’t come. Perhaps Sigga didn’t trust Natan’s sudden goodwill towards Fridrik. I believe she was anxious to keep the two men apart.’




LATE ONE NIGHT I DECIDED to tell him.

‘Natan, I know that you have had Sigga.’

He had been dozing, but his eyes opened at this.

‘I know, Natan. I forgive you.’

He looked at me, and then suddenly laughed. ‘You forgive me?’

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