Good Morning, Smár Einn!
Thank you to Mel and Jill.
.: Þrír Tigir ok Átta :.
It is nine, painfully long days at sea before there is any sight of land. The moment the cliffs are in view, I want to weep. I trust Edvard, and he seemed unconcerned about being lost to sea, but I couldn't help my panic.
Perhaps the sea messed with some people more than it messed with others. Based on this experience, I plan to make Ísland my forever home.
I never want to sail that again.
It takes several more hours, but soon, we are near enough to the shore to see the landscape. It is unlike anything I've ever seen. Steep grassy slopes topped with jagged rock, cliffs as sudden and sharp as razors, and water somehow more blue near the shore than any water I've ever seen before.
I thought before that I could never feel more out of place than when I had landed in this strange world, but now that feeling has come back tenfold.
We have entered an alien planet.
It's past noon when we see the first hints of human habitation: smoke rising from buildings in a small group near the water. The rowers direct our ship to shore, and the women around me begin readying the children to depart. I'm in charge of Katla again, which is easy, as she is happy to stay by my side.
I wrap a fur around her, because it's colder here than it was when we left, and tuck another fur around myself. We sit, waiting to pull up to shore, anticipation and excitement starting to liven up every person on the ship.
We are all eager to land.
The ship is shallow and can be rowed almost completely onto the black sandy beaches. When we are close enough, the rowers jump out, hauling the ship up farther onto shore. When it stops moving, the rest of us get up to begin unloading.
I want to spend time gazing up at the strange, foreign landscape, but there is work to be done, and I don't want to embarrass my family for shirking my responsibility.
We gather what we can with the children in our arms before disembarking from the ship. There is a group of people I don't recognize standing on the beach, waiting for us.
Eydís surprises me by pushing through the crowd unloading from the ship and running straight to the other group.
There is a tall blond man in front that she immediately launches herself at, and there is laughter and cheering as they kiss.
It's a side of Eydís I've never seen before.
The group on the beach start to make their way down, coming to greet us, and I'm surprised by how many people have loved ones they are meeting.
A man with sandier hair but a similar build to the man Eydís has launched at, makes his way to Arni, embracing him in welcome. He turns to pull Rúna into a hug before seeking out his grandchildren.
When he sees me with Katla, he pauses, looking back at his son.
"Have you found yourself a beðþrællr?"
Rúna smacks his chest lightly. "Oddi, do not be crass. This is Bella Egildottír," she says, her tone chastising. He offers me an easy, impish smile that I've often seen on his son.
"My apologies," he says, dipping his head at me. "I am Oddr Einarrson, but you may call me Oddi, as all my kin do."
It is impossible not to smile at him. He has the same dimples as his son and grandchildren, and a lighthearted spirit that would have probably soothed me, even before I could speak their language.
"It is nice to meet you," I tell him, setting Katla down. Oddi grins, turning his attention to his granddaughter.
I see Eydís make her way over to us, and I look up at her.
"We need to keep working," she tells the group. Her husband is beside her, looking amused at his wife's brusk focus.
I take a minute to look around. Egil and Tove are not greeting anyone, and I wonder if Egil's brother is at the beach. I move to Tove's side, offering her a small smile as I help her carry goods off the ship.
"Egil's brother lives far," she explains as we work. "We will spend several nights here before we set out."
I nod, wondering where we will stay. It seems an inappropriate time to ask, so instead, I focus on the tasks at hand.
It is late by the time we finish unloading the ship, though the sun still sits fairly high in the sky. We have passed midsummer, though the days are still long.
Egil's family gathers our few belongings—I am in charge of the goat as well as several bedrolls of furs—before we head up the beach. To my surprise, it is Eydís who comes to us. "Here," she says, taking the bedrolls from me. I nod to her gratefully as I urge the stubborn goat along. "Come, my husband's farm is not far."
I'm surprised, though I shouldn't be at this point, to hear we are spending time there. I'm excited, one to get to see Edvard more, but also to meet his father. I am eager to know the man brave enough to marry Eydís.
The passengers of the ship begin to scatter as we all head to different farmsteads. Most of us are slow, having much weighing us down, but the general spirit of everyone is joyful.
From what I gather, not all crossings are as smooth as ours was.
It is a long walk up a very steep hill. I wonder what it is about Eydís' family living high up, but I suppose most people here would have to. The slopes are steep and vast and there is very little flat land in sight.
As hard as it's been, I'm excited to be in Ísland. There is much possibility for me here; all I have to do is choose it.