The policemen glanced at each other, but Sigurbjorn continued: “And then there’s that Danish fellow. You can find parallels with his fate in the Flatey Book, too, but I guess you don’t know that story either, do you?”
Thorolfur shook his head. “How did that one go?” he asked.
“It’s in the saga of Olaf Tryggvason. Eyvindur Kelda went to Ogvaldsnes with the intention of killing King Olaf. Using magic he summoned a dark mist so that the king wouldn’t be able to see them, but it blinded them, too, and made them walk around in circles. The king’s protectors spotted the men and arrested them. The king then invited them to abandon their evil ways and to believe in the true God. But when Eyvindur and his men categorically refused to do so, they were taken to a skerry in the sea and left there to die of exposure. Since then it’s been called the Devil’s Skerry. That’s how it went. I think you’ll have to start reading the Flatey Book before you try solving the Breidafjordur mysteries.”
“Is it long, this book?” Thorolfur asked.
“Not really. Thormodur Krakur has an edition that came out straight after the war. It’s four volumes of about six hundred pages each. You could finish reading it by the fall if you really put your head down.”
Thorolfur looked at Grimur. “Can you get us a copy of this work?”
Question twenty-seven: The most cunning chieftain. Second letter. The Norsemen who were on the rampage in Constantinople were known as the Varangians. Their chieftain was Harald, who was called Nordbrigt…They besieged another town that was both bigger and harder to overtake. There were lush and open fields close to the town with beautiful trees in blossom. The birds always flew there from the town during the day and then flew back to their nests on the rooftops of the houses in the evening. Nordbrigt addressed his men: “There is some clay here just outside the town, which we shall collect and knead until it turns into a kind of mortar. Then we will rub this wet mortar on the trees outside the town.” The birds then stuck to the trees when they came looking for food, and many small birds were caught in this manner. Then Nordbrigt said, “Now let’s collect dry and highly flammable wood and ignite a little fire in it by adding sulfur and enveloping it with wax. Then we will attach this load to each of the birds’ backs so that they can fly with it. When night falls we will release them all together, and my guess is that they will fly back to their nests in the town, as is their habit.” This was done, and the birds flew back to their nests and young ones. All the houses on which the birds had made their nests were thatched, and it did not take long for the birds’ feathers to catch fire and then the rooftops, with one thing igniting another. At the same time, the besiegers armed themselves and attacked the town. The townspeople then had to fend off both the fire and the fierce attack, and they were unable to cope with both. The answer is “Harald,” and the second letter is a.
Kjartan said, “Here Lund wrote the name ‘Nordbrigt.’”
“Then the answer is either a or o.”
CHAPTER 44
Hogni went off to collect Thormodur Krakur, who, as was to be expected, arrived for the questioning in his Sunday suit, and with his walking stick and medal of honor pinned to his chest. His clothes were still damp after the night, although he had made a worthy attempt at drying them over the stove that morning. He had brought along his copies of the printed version of the Flatey Book, at Grimur’s request, and clutched them firmly in his arms.
Thorolfur contemplated the deacon at length from head to toe before starting the interrogation.
“Did you meet the deceased Bryngeir on Sunday?” he asked.
“Bryngeir came to my cowshed at around dinnertime on Sunday,” Thormodur Krakur haughtily replied. “He offered me a sip of rum, and I gave him a cup of milk and some dried fish instead. I sometimes have some stockfish hanging in the corner of the barn to nibble at between meals, and it came in handy that evening. Then we sat there and chatted a little.”
“What did you chat about?”
“We spoke about dreams and the extrasensory powers of some thinking beings. The late Bryngeir was knowledgeable on the subject, and it then transpired that he was very apt at deciphering unusual dreams. He’d also studied spiritism at night school with some famous medium in Reykjavik. Unfortunately, one doesn’t often meet evolved souls of this kind on the island. He was slightly psychic when he was sober. That’s why he drank so much, he told me. Some people can’t handle the power and try to suppress their talents. They need help. But he was willing and capable of reading dreams. He was able to solve the calf dream I’d been grappling with for so long. The dream is as follows: I sense I’m inside this church and then…”
“Thanks, that’s enough,” Thorolfur interrupted. “Where did he go after he left you?”
“He said he was going to find some way of getting to Stykkisholmur but that he was going to see the doctor first.”
“Was Bryngeir ill in some way?”
“No, it wasn’t a medical visit. I told him the old man’s body was in the house. He told me was going to offer his condolences to Johanna. I asked him to show some respect when he got there.”
“Did you expect him not to?”
“Naturally, he was a bit tipsy, but easy enough to handle, although in between he could be quite mischievous.”
“Did he ever mention the Dane?”
“No, not to me.”
“Do you know how he was going to get to Stykkisholmur?”
“Well, he was going to talk to the islanders who have boats or the small boat fishermen, but I doubt anyone would have been foolish enough to take him that night. The weather was getting worse.”
“Did he talk about where he would stay on Flatey if he didn’t get to Stykkisholmur?”
“No. I couldn’t put him up at my place because I don’t have an extra bed in the house, but I told him he could sleep in my barn if he wanted to. I just asked him to be careful with fire.”
“Do you think he stayed in the barn?”
“His things were still there when I walked into the barn yesterday morning.”
“What time did he leave your place?”
Thormodur Krakur thought a moment. “Let me see…I took the milk over to Reverend Hannes at around eight and went home for dinner. Then I went back up to the shed at around ten to give water to the cows and prepare for the night. He was gone by then.”
“Didn’t you see him again?”
“No, not alive.”
Question twenty-eight: Augurs a lucky journey. First letter. King Magnus and Earl Erling’s fleet anchored near Brottueyri, outside Skipacrook, and the men landed there. As the earl leaped on shore, he fell on his knees. Thrusting both hands into the ground, he said, “A fall augurs a lucky journey.” The answer is “fall,” and the first letter is f.
CHAPTER 45
Dagbjartur arrived early at the National Hospital in Reykjavik and asked for Dr. Thorgerdur Fridriksdottir. After a number of enquiries, it transpired that she was in the operating room.
“I’ll wait,” said Dagbjartur, smiling patiently.
He had been waiting for three hours when a young woman approached him.
“I was told you were looking for me,” she said.
She was wearing a white coat with large splatters of blood on the front.
“I was just removing some tonsils. There can be a lot of bleeding sometimes,” she added when she noticed he was staring at the stains.
Dagbjartur smiled awkwardly. “Sorry to disturb you. This won’t take long.”