Never Fear (7 page)

Moments later, Berglind
came out of the house. “
Magnús!
I thought you were all going to behave! You are
the eldest. You should know better. Finish up, then come inside and
apologize to Leifur. And here I thought you were trying to be
better children.”

“
We are, Mama, but Leifur
is such a baby. I was only playing with him,” he said and kicked
the doorstep.

“
Have not these last days
shown the seriousness of this all? Did my story of Grýla mean
nothing to you?” Her eyes began to tear.

“
Yes, Mama, it did. I am
sorry. I will apologize to Leifur, and I will let him leave out the
toys for Gluggagaegir tonight. That will make him
happy.”

“
Thank you, Magnús. That
is how you should treat your brother all the time. You must all get
along.” She turned and went inside.

The next morning, the toys, which had
been carefully set out by Leifur, were gone, and Berglind and Lilja
were hard at work making biscuits.

“
MAMA!” The shout came
from outside, and Berglind, fearing something terrible had happened
to one of her sons, bolted to the door and rushed out, yelling,
“Lilja, wait here for me!”

“
Magnús, Leifur… what is
it? What has happened?” she said, rushing out into the yard, fear
and anxiety in her voice.

Rushing from the
snow-covered field, the boys called, “Mama, Mama! Look!
Look
! Over
there.”
The boys pointed
off into the distance.

“
I think it is Father and
Uncle Reynir,” Leifur said.

“
It must be them,” Magnús
added.

Off in the distance, she noticed two
forms trudging through the fields. “SNORRI!” she
screamed.

An arm raised in the distance, hailing
her.

She pulled the children close and
squeezed them. “Children, your father is home. Home at last! Wait
here for us.” She sped off, slogging her way over the snow, and her
husband and his brother hastened their pace to meet her.

They met halfway. Snorri dropped his
pack in the snow and embraced his wife. They held close for a
while.

“
I have missed you,
Berglind,” Snorri said, not even trying to hide the emotion in his
voice.

“
I have missed you as
well, my dear husband.”

Berglind embraced Reynir. “And you,
dear Reynir.”

“
Thank you, Berglind.”
Reynir’s low voice conveyed his feelings as he returned her
embrace.

The three made their way to the house.
The cries of the children grew louder. “Father! Father!” When they
could remain still no longer, the children rushed into the yard and
met their father with the enthusiasm of youth. “We’ve missed you,
Father. You have been gone so long. We have so much to tell
you—”

“
There will be much time
for talk later. Reynir and I have traveled far this day. Let us get
settled and warmed by the fire,” Snorri said, ruffling Leifur’s
hair.

Magnús started, “But
Father—”

Berglind gave him a stern look.
“Please, Magnús, later.”

Chastised, Magnús said, “Yes,
Mama.”

Snorri raised his head in the air and
sniffed. “Biscuits?”

“
Gáttathefur,” Reynir
whispered, his blue eyes darkening.

Berglind’s own eyes grew wide. “Oh,
Snorri…”

Snorri looked at her, concerned. “Is
that who the biscuits are for, Berglind? The Yuletide Lad? What has
been happening here?”

“
Come inside. We have
needed you so much. But we have managed.” Berglind pushed open the
door and ushered everyone inside. The children stayed oddly
quiet.

The men divested themselves of the
packs and outer clothing and positioned themselves by the hearth
while Berglind and Lilja finished up with the biscuits.

Leifur sat on his father’s lap and
said, “Have you brought us gifts, Father?”

“
Leifur, only good
children receive gifts,” Reynir said jokingly, taking a quaff of
mead from a stein Berglind had given him. “Everyone knows what
mischief makers you three are.” He lightly cuffed the boy on the
side of the head.

“
Mischief making—” Snorri
began but was cut off as Berglind thrust a small tray with hot
biscuits in front of them.

“
After we have eaten and
the children are asleep, we will talk,” she said, a shadow crossing
her face.

“
The Yuletide Lads have
been here every day, Father,” Lilja volunteered from the kitchen
area, where she was enjoying her own hot biscuit with Magnús. “But
we have been having fun tricking them.” She took a large bite and
filled her mouth.

“
Berglind, is this true?”
Snorri said.

She sighed heavily. “Aye, it is. We
have only heard the Lads, not seen them. And they have been
mischievous is all, not much of a bother. But now that you and
Reynir are here, we will rest easier. Perhaps your being here will
scare away the last two Lads.”

“
I hope what you say is
true,” Snorri said. A look of worry came over his strong features.
He brushed a long blond lock from his forehead.

“
What is it, Snorri? What
is troubling you?” Berglind grabbed his arm.

“
It is nothing. Reynir and
I… It is nothing.”

Berglind stared at him for another
moment. “Tomorrow Ketrokur comes.”

“
The meat hook,” Reynir
interjected. “For St. Thorlakur’s Day. You will have the smoked
lamb?” He munched on his third biscuit and drank his mead,
apparently content.

Berglind noticed how much the two
brothers had grown alike, while only two years apart in age. Both
were tall, blond, and broad. “I have an extra shank prepared,
should Ketkrókur lower his hook down our chimney.”

“
Perhaps
I shall lay in wait for him and pull
him
down the chimney, instead of his
taking our meat,” Reynir said, taking yet another biscuit from the
tray and another long pull from his stein.

Normally a man of few words, Reynir
seemed to be in a talkative mood, Berglind noted, then said, “No
need, Reynir. We have plenty of lamb. Even enough to fill your big
gullet. Although I may need to make more biscuits for
tonight.”

“
Reynir laughed and took
the remaining biscuit from the tray. “You might. They are quite
good, a little peppery.”

Magnús and Leifur exchanged a
look.

“
I like you, Berglind,”
Reynir continued. “You speak your mind. You are a good woman. And I
trust you have enough hay in the barn for me to rest my ‘big
gullet’ on?” He laughed again and finished his drink.

Berglind took his stein to refill it.
“You will stay through Christmas and the new year then?”

“
Aye, if you will have
me?”

“
Of course.” She returned
the filled stein to him. “But perhaps you should stay in the
house.”

“
Berglind,” Snorri said.
“Are you worried Reynir will hear the animals talk on Christmas
Eve? That is an old story to scare children.”

“
There are stranger things
in this world, Snorri, as you should well know.” Berglind had
raised her voice. “Come now, it is time to eat. Children?” She made
her way to the table. “Lilja, help your Mama with the food. Do you
not remember what I said?”

“
I am sorry, Mama,” the
little girl said and rushed to help.

That night the biscuits were
taken—pepper and all. Magnús had seen fit to add his own extra
helping to the additional mix Berglind had prepared before retiring
for the evening.

And as expected, the following night,
the Yuletide Lad known as the Meat Hook arrived and snagged the leg
of lamb set out for him by Berglind. The appearance of Snorri and
Reynir had done nothing to deter the Lad’s visit.

Christmas Eve. Kertasníkir, the candle
beggar.

And tragedy struck.

The children were being rambunctious
that afternoon. Reynir had brought the family a large candle,
something very rare in Iceland, and in high demand. He had paid
quite the sum for it, and if used sparingly, would last most of the
long winter. For this particular candle was made from whale
blubber, Reynir told them, and when lit, smelled of the
sea.

“
Thank you much, Reynir,”
Berglind said that morning when she awoke to see the large candle
sitting by the hearth. “Children, we will light it this eve and you
may remain awake and enjoy its wondrous beauty. Your uncle is too
generous and you must thank him appropriately.”

“
We will, Mama,” the three
agreed, ogling the amazing treasure.

That evening, the family sat around
the candle and enjoyed freshly baked cookies and warm ewe’s
milk.

“
Mama, will Kertasníkir
come to take our candle?” Lilja asked, taking a bite of her third
cookie.

“
No, Lilja. He only begs
for candles. He does not take like his mischievous brethren. Hush
now, and let us speak no more of them. Enjoy your
cookie.”

After the cookies and milk, and the
enjoyment of Reynir’s generous gift, they retired to their beds.
Reynir went to his hay mound in the barn.

A scream rent the night.

Magnús.

Outside.

Berglind and Snorri bolted from their
bed and ran for the door.

“
What is it, Mama?” a
sleepy-eyed Lilja said, following behind them.

“
You and Leifur stay in
the house,” Snorri said.

The parents grabbed furs and headed
out the door.

They didn’t have far to go. The full
moon shone brilliantly, lighting the snow-covered earth. And there
in front of them, naked, running in circles, was Magnús.

“
Stop! Stop! Stop!” It was
an endless, mindless chant Magnús screamed, his hands clutched
tightly over his ears.

Snorri ran up to the boy and tried to
grab him.

Magnús screamed louder and lunged away
from Snorri and off into a stand of trees at the edge of the field
and…

THUD!
…rushed headlong into the first tree. He hit hard, face
first, and fell back violently to the ground. Still.

Snorri reached the boy and gently,
then more agitatedly, tried to make him stir.

Nothing.

Blood seeped from a split in Magnús’
forehead. It ran into the corners of his open and lifeless
eyes.

Snorri’s grief was overwhelming. He
fell to his knees in the snow next to Magnús. A soft mewling sound
came from him. He brushed the bloody hair from Magnús’ forehead,
then brought the lolling head to his chest. His eyes burned and the
tears ran down his cheeks. “Magnús… my Magnús… my—”

Another scream.

Inside the barn.

Reynir.

Snorri scooped up his dead
son.

Leifur and Lilja came running from the
house, Lilja to Berglind and Leifur to Snorri. Berglind held Lilja
close to her and yelled, “Leifur, no! Get back here!” Berglind
didn’t move, keeping her terrified daughter close to her, shielded
from Snorri and Magnús. She was too afraid of what she was seeing
to call out to Snorri and discover her son’s fate. Reynir was in
the barn. She stood there numb, unable to move, knowing only that
she needed to protect her daughter.

Leifur reached Snorri.
“Father, Father! I tried to stop him, but Magnús… he wanted to see
if the animals really do talk. I told him if he heard them, they
would make him insane. I
told
him!” He was gasping and crying. “Is Magnús all
right, Father? Father?”

Snorri stood motionless, the lifeless
body of his son draped in his arms.

Berglind could contain herself no
longer. “Snorri, what is it? Is Magnús all right?”

“
AAAAGH!”
Another scream from
the barn.

Snorri snapped out of his stupor.
“Reynir. I must go to him. Leifur, stay here and watch your
brother.” He gently set Magnús down in the snow. Leifur sat down
next to him, picked up his brother’s cold hand, and held it. His
eyes fixed on his brother’s face. He neither cried nor moaned. His
body began to rock back and forth and he played with his brother’s
fingers.

Berglind screamed, and grabbing Lilja,
rushed to her sons. She dropped down opposite Leifur and pulled
Magnús’ head up to her breast. “Magnús, Magnús,” she softly
uttered, her tears falling on her dead son’s white skin. “Why could
you not obey me? Foolish boy. Foolish.”

Lilja knelt next to Leifur in the snow
and buried her face in his cloak, crying but saying nothing. Still
playing with Magnús’ fingers, Leifur mumbled, “He only wanted to
hear the animals speak.”

“
AAAAAHH!”
An agonizing scream
tore through the night, chilling them all to their
bones.

Snorri was at the barn. He threw open
the door just in time to see the gargantuan Yuletide Cat close its
mouth around his brother’s head and silence him.