Coming out into the sunshine on such a day, free from the cares and toil of everyday life, the heart seemed filled with a natural desire to give thanks and praise to God for the blessing of life.
But on this Sunday, there were few in all Hofsfjordur whose minds were bent on praising the Lord. Folk hastened to the service, but their thoughts were not with God. This day, the first Sunday after Ormarr Ørlygsson’s homecoming, was a day of mark; something, all knew, was about to happen. And all repaired to the church to see. Even tiny children were brought thither; no one was willing to stay at home minding children today.
Sera Ketill was up and about before any of his people at Hof. He moved about restlessly outside the house, avoiding the grass, which was still thickly drenched with dew.
Again and again he glanced over in the direction of Borg. A thin bluish column of smoke could be seen rising straight up above the chimneys of his old home. And involuntarily he found in it something like a symbol of peace. There was something of a covenant in the ray of smoke that rose as it were from some sacrifice acceptable to the Lord.
How was this day to end? Sera Ketill asked himself the question, and wondered who would be coming to church from Borg that day.
Ørlygur and Ormarr moved about in silence, each bent upon his own tasks. There was much to be done; they had made no attempt as yet to secure new hands. It had been agreed that Ørlygur should go to church, the others remaining at home. Had it not been for his duties there, Ørlygur himself would rather have stayed away.
Early that morning he had fetched in Sleipnir, his saddle-horse, from the fields, and stabled it without fodder to be ready for the road. He let another animal into the box to keep it company, and the pair remained there during the morning, relieving the tedium of their confinement by licking each other.
At last it was time to start. Ørlygur had saddled his horse, but delayed moving off, finding this thing and that to attend to, as if loth to leave the place. Now and again he stopped still, looking out over the country round; from all quarters he could see his fellow-parishioners come riding; all moving towards Hof as the centre of attraction. He noticed, too, that the enclosure round the vicarage was already dark with the crowd of those who had come early.
Finally, realizing that he had no time to spare if he wished to arrive in time, he stepped off resolutely. Then he turned and stopped.
Ormarr was in the courtyard, teaching a new-born lamb to suck. He had been an adept at the work in his younger days, but had forgotten his deftness now, and was fumbling awkwardly.