The Memory Painter

Leif nodded with excitement. Everyone had heard the stories of Bjarni’s discovery, but he had never told anyone how to find it. Bjarni had always hoped that one day he would give his son the Gata and let him explore the new land. How many times had he contemplated packing up their belongings and taking Garnissa and Anssonno there while they were still young? If he had, Tarr would never have known how to find them. Instead every dream died the day Anssonno had been murdered. Now Bjarni only wanted to follow his son to the grave.

“Take this.” He placed Garnissa’s vegvísir in Leif’s hand. “It was made by my wife.” He swallowed, forcing himself to continue. “It will help you find your way.”

“You do me a great honor, Bjarni Herjólfsson.” Leif bowed his head and pocketed the vegvísir. “I will find your land.” He swore a solemn oath and they finished their mead in silence.

*

As Bjarni lay on the snow, he wondered where Leif was. Their talk had only been last spring and yet now it seemed like years ago. Bjarni had made the decision to end his life as he had watched the Gata set sail without him, with another captain holding Garnissa’s compass. In the weeks that had followed, he had given away the remainder of his possessions and cleared out his house—then he waited.