Olav Audunssøn by Sigrid Undset

Author:Sigrid Undset [Undset, Sigrid]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC004000 Fiction / Classics, FIC014000 Fiction / Historical, FIC019000 Fiction / Literary
Publisher: University of Minnesota Press
Published: 2021-10-05T00:00:00+00:00

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Autumn came early that year. Around Michaelmas, bad weather set in. Rain fell as the wind howled day in and day out, except at those times when the storm was so strong that the clouds couldn’t release any showers. This weather lasted for seven weeks.

At Hestviken the water rose over the wharves. One night the sea ripped away the posts under the farthermost warehouse. When the men went down there at daybreak, they found the old structure’s back wall, which faced the mountain slope, leaning forward while the gable wall facing the fjord had sunk until the water reached halfway up. The whole thing was pitching on the rough sea like a moored boat. Each time the wrecked building was lifted up by a wave, it would sink down again, with water gushing between the timbers and even more pouring from a small slot under the gable eaves. Anki thought it looked like a drunken man hunched over the gunnel of a boat, vomiting.

Using broad axes, boat hooks, and ropes, the men had to free the wreckage and tow it away. Otherwise it would most likely end up slamming against the wharf and the warehouse where Olav had stored all the salt they had gathered during the summer, as well as the fish, what little there was of it. The fishing had been poor that autumn. While they were laboring at this task, Olav badly injured his right arm.

He paid little mind to it while he was toiling in the sea spray and stormy weather, which was so fierce that occasionally the men had to lie flat and crawl across the ground. But at dusk, as they walked back up the slope to the estate, Olav noticed that his arm hurt when he moved it. As he was opening the door to the main house, a burst of wind blew the whole door inward, pulling Olav along with it. His injured arm was yanked straight as he tumbled across the threshold and fell full-length onto the antechamber floor. Once inside, he had to be helped out of his soaked clothing, and Torhild put his arm in a sling.

The main hall was a loathsome place that evening. The entire room was filled with smoke, for it would have been unwise to prop open the door or the hearth vent in such weather. The smoke stung everyone’s eyes and tore at their throats. When the men’s wet garments also began to steam from where they had been draped over the rafters, the air soon grew so thick that they could have cut it with a knife.

Ingunn had retreated to the alcove with both children. There was less smoke, but it was so cold that they had to burrow under the covers. The men left the hall as soon as they finished eating. Olav tossed a few furs and cushions onto the floor next to the hearth and lay down so as to be lower than the smoke.

His arm was now swollen. His

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