‘I wanted to know what it tasted like,’ Steina offered.
‘It’s too late. Bring him some fresh milk instead. Bring everything in when it’s ready. Actually no, let Kristín. You look like you’ve been rolling in the dirt with the horses.’ Lauga shot a scathing look at the dung on Steina’s clothes and walked back down the corridor.
Bl?ndal was waiting for her. ‘Young lady. I suppose you are wondering at my occasioning your family with a visit.’
‘My name is Sigurlaug. Or Lauga, if you like.’
‘Quite. Sigurlaug.’
‘Is it some business of my father’s? He is –’
‘Southbound, yes, I know. Your sister told me, and . . . Oh look, here she is.’
Lauga turned and saw Steina emerging round the side of the partition, carrying the soft cheese, cream and berries in one grimy hand, and the milk in the other. Lauga gave her sister a vexed look as Steina accidentally dragged the edge of the curtain through the skyr. Fortunately the District Commissioner seemed oblivious.
‘Sir,’ Steina mumbled. She set the bowl and cup on the table in front of him, and then gave an awkward curtsey. ‘May it do you good.’
‘Thank you,’ Bl?ndal replied. He sniffed the skyr appraisingly, then looked up at the two sisters. He smiled thinly. ‘Who is the elder?’
Lauga nudged Steina to prompt her, but she remained silent, gaping at the brilliant red of the man’s coat.
‘I am younger, District Commissioner,’ Lauga said eventually, smiling to show off her dimples. ‘By one year. Steinv?r is twenty-one this month.’
‘Everyone calls me Steina.’
‘You are both very pretty,’ Bl?ndal said.
‘Thank you, sir.’ Lauga nudged Steina again.
‘Thank you,’ Steina mumbled.
‘Both have your father’s fair hair, though I see you have your mother’s blue eyes,’ he said, nodding at Lauga. He pushed the untouched bowl towards her and took up the milk. He sniffed it and set it down on the table again.
‘Please, sir, eat,’ Lauga said, motioning to the bowl.
‘Thank you, but I am suddenly sated.’ Bl?ndal reached into his coat pocket. ‘Now, I would have preferred to discuss this with the master of the house, but as District Officer Jón isn’t here and this cannot wait until his return, I see I must tell his daughters.’ He took up his sheet of paper and unfolded it upon the table for them to read.
‘I trust that you are familiar with the event that occurred at Illugastadir last year?’ he asked.
Steina flinched. ‘Do you mean the murders?’
Lauga nodded, her blue eyes wide with sudden solemnity. ‘The trial was held at your home.’
Bl?ndal inclined his head. ‘Yes. The murders of Natan Ketilsson the herbalist and Pétur Jónsson. As this most unfortunate and grievous tragedy occurred within the Húnavatn District, it was my responsibility to work with the magistrate and Land Court in Reykjavík to come to some sort of arrangement regarding the persons accused.’
Lauga picked up the paper and walked to the window to read by its light. ‘So it is all over.’
‘On the contrary. The three accused were last October found guilty of both murder and arson in the court of this country. The case has now proceeded to the Supreme Court in Copenhagen, Denmark. The King . . .’ and here Bl?ndal paused for effect ‘. . . The King himself must learn of the crime, and agree with my original sentence of execution. As you can read for yourself, they have each received a capital sentence. It is a victory for justice, as I am sure you will agree.’
Lauga nodded absently, still reading. ‘They’re not being sent to Denmark?’
Bl?ndal smiled, and swung back on the wooden chair, lifting the heels of his boots off the ground. ‘No.’