The Snow on the Cross Read Online Free PDF Page A

ship waiting to take me over the sea.  The
emissary from Greenland , the one who had presented Robert
with the gift of the bear, was waiting to take me with him back to Greenland .
    I had never been on a ship before,
and certainly had never traveled as far as they were going to take me.  It took
us two weeks to travel from Le Mans to Bayeux , and as we drew nearer the city, the
air had turned noticeably colder.  I half expected to see large pieces of ice
floating along the Channel as I saw the water that led out into the ocean.  It
was dark and choppy, and it sloshed against the docks as if wanting to drag
them into the sea.  I confess I felt a little sick when I saw the ship that was
going to take me away from France .
    It was moored near the rocks on the
far side of the port.  It was not much to look at upon casual inspection.  It
was long and narrow and looked not so much a sailing vessel as a long rowboat. 
There were men there on board, stomping around the deck tying ropes to small
hooks and pulleys that were dotted all over the sides of the ship.  One of the
men saw me standing on the dock, and he waved and shouted.  Before I could
reply, he had hopped overboard and was taking long strides to meet me.  He was
a bundle of fur and hair, much like the men I would see upon my first sighting
of Greenland .
    “My name is Bjarni,” the man said,
his voice thick.  “Welcome.”
    I nodded and Bjarni glanced at the
sky.  “We will leave at daybreak,” he decided.  “More favorable winds. 
Tonight, we will be your guests in Bayeux .”
    He laughed and clapped me on the
shoulder, almost knocking me off the dock.  The other bundles were making their
way off the ship.  I counted six as they crowded around me and introduced
themselves with names I forgot as quickly as I heard them.
    Although the Vikings invited me to
stay with them, I declined and sought out the monastery of Bayeux as night fell.  The monks welcomed
me and gave me restful accommodations, certainly better than the Vikings, who
were content to camp out near the ocean.
    I lay there that night before we
left, but I could not sleep, even though I was tired from the long trip from Le Mans .  I kept thinking about the vast
contradiction between the two sides of the men I had heard.  They were cruel
enough to burn and slaughter villages for no other reason than their own
wantonness, but they seemed hospitable enough to welcome a man of God to come
to their island.    My mind turned to thoughts of the woman named Thordhild. 
She must have been a strong woman to insist to her husband they needed a man of
God at their home.  If she was serious in her faith, then I would have at least
one ally there.
    I fell asleep after a long while, and
I dreamed about Le Mans .
    ***
    In the morning I joined the monks of Bayeux in prayer, and we broke fast
together.  The morning meal was somber and cold, and I sat and stared at the
brothers all around me.  Most had vowed silence, and my mood was not allowing
me to make conversation with those who could speak.  There was the sound of the
rustle of cloth, and the occasional slurp of the gruel by some of the monks,
but that was all.  I ate lightly, as my stomach kept turning at the thought of
boarding the North Men’s ship.
    The monastery at Bayeux sat atop a hill overlooking the sea,
and after the morning meal, when the brothers went out to tend to their chores,
I left them and climbed to the top tower.  From high above, I could see the
seaport and the expanse beyond.  An endless sea.  It looked frigid and shadowy
as it refused to reflect even the slightest bit of color from the sky.  I did
not want to look at the water.  I would see it close enough too soon.  My gaze
traveled from the sea to the land, and there I could barely make out the
Vikings’ encampment at the base of a hill.  The men were gathered around a
cheerfully blazing fire, and I imagined I could hear their laughter as they ate
their