The Prophets of Eternal Fjord (33 page)

I see. Well, you are young. I feel a certain yearning myself now and then, a budding devotion, whose object I need not divulge here. But I understand you, indeed.

I cannot commit violence against these people, says Bjerg. Besides, they have taken my gun as well. No one would expect me to contain the settlement with my pocket knife, surely?

Be at ease, says Falck. I shall preach for them. We shall practise the grace of free will that was given to us by the Lord at our christening.

Eh? says Bjerg and looks at the priest in puzzlement.

We shall let them decide for themselves. First I shall preach, then Habakuk likewise, and then we shall see which of us wins most favour with our congregation. It will be a duel of words. The Lord will ensure the victory of the just.

The man who has been ringing the little ship's bell steps down. The people fall silent. Falck opens the door and all heads turn at once to the two upon the rock. Habakuk nods. The congregation moves into the church. Bjerg stands beside Falck as people file past. Amanda sends him a sly look; Rosine stares straight ahead. She looks almost cantankerous, he thinks anxiously. Behind them come a number of men, among them Didrik. He looks at Bjerg with animosity and Bjerg feels even more ill at ease.

Falck reaches out and puts a hand on Didrik's shoulder. He halts.

Dear Didrik, you must help me. You must be my interpreter. Will you?

The kayak man nods. I will translate.

The church is quickly filled. There are still some fifty people outside who cannot come in. Bjerg follows Falck through the nave to the choir, where there is a step up. There is no pulpit and no decoration. The church could almost have been a warehouse.

Falck asks him to stand at the side, to his right. Didrik stands next to him. Voices rise to a hum, benches creak and scrape on the floor, a couple of children begin to cry. Then all goes quiet. Bjerg sees Habakuk and Maria Magdalene seated in the front row. He sees that they are holding hands. Further back he sees Rosine and Amanda, her mother and, with any luck, his future mother-in-law. But he senses that something is about to happen. There is a strange feeling in the air.

Falck clears his throat. His voice a-tremble, he thanks the community for the hospitality it has accorded him and his company. Didrik trans­lates. Falck praises the settlement, which in his opinion is much better organized than any colony he has seen, and Bjerg notes that he looks directly upon the two front rows as he speaks. His praise would seem to be well received, many smile and nod in acknowledgement of his words. This bay, Falck continues, this little community, for such it is, indeed, must surely be one of the most splendid spots on the entire earth. A hum of approval ripples through the congregation.

However, says Falck, and pauses. He looks at Didrik and the kayak man translates the word.
Kisjeni
. A silence descends.

However, His Majesty the king was saddened to hear that some of his children have submitted to heresy and false doctrine and have abandoned the only true doctrine, says Falck. He goes on: It is not because our king wishes in any way to determine in what we are to believe, most certainly not. Rather, it is because you are his children, every one of you, and he weeps to hear that his children have offended against the Lord, such that they cannot join him in Paradise. You must understand that the king loves you all, Falck urges. He does not care to lose a single one of you, and if in any case he does, he grieves for a very long time. The king grieves now.

Bjerg observes how the congregation as one is gripped by pangs of conscience. They bow their heads or look away. Some dry their eyes with the sleeves of their garments. A child cries incessantly. Habakuk and his wife stare up at the priest and are unmoved.

I should like to tell you a story about our king, says Falck. The tale concerns how the king, out walking in his city one day, sees a child drowning in one of the canals. He jumps into the water without a thought for his own life, but when he reaches the child, the child does not wish to be saved, but kicks and lashes out, shouting oaths at the king and beseeching him to leave him alone. But the king refuses to give in and eventually he succeeds in bringing the child on to land, where all his escort stands full of admiration and fright at what they have witnessed. Then the child's mother and father come running. They kiss the robes of the king and fall down upon their knees and thank him. It is no matter, says the king. I would do the same for any one of my subjects. Even the child began to cry when he understood that his life had been saved by the king himself, and together with his parents he was given accommo­dation in the palace and received work in the king's gardens, and the family was contented thereby.

Someone at the front begins to sob, Bjerg hears. Didrik must have translated the story well. Bjerg, too, has a lump in his throat from listening to such a touching tale. He pictures the king at Frederiksholms Kanal, heaving the idiotic boy on to the cobbles; how everyone is over­whelmed with gratitude and impressed by what has occurred. Rasmus Bjerg feels for a moment that he is himself the king. He sees that Falck, too, is moved and has produced several handkerchiefs with which to wipe his face. Weeping spreads throughout the congregation.

So now I say unto you, says Falck, taking his time to look his audience in the eye, that the king has confided in me that he cannot be here in person today, and therefore he has appointed me to save you from drowning. I say unto you: return, turn away from this false doctrine and feel the love and forgiveness of the Lord!

He is finished. He steps down from the rostrum, bows politely to Habakuk and his wife, then returns to his place next to Bjerg.

How did I do? he whispers.

The Pastor has converted me, at any rate.

Excellent. Let us hear what the good Habakuk has to say.

Habakuk steps up onto the rostrum. He is a tall, well-built man; his hair is worn in a bowl cut and hangs like a mop over his broad, chiselled forehead. Falck beckons to Didrik to come and translate what he says.

Friends, fellow settlers, Habakuk begins. I will not speak at length and I will not tell stories. Everything the priest says is true. His Majesty the king is saddened. He wants us back where we were before. Do you remember what it was like? He looks out across the assembly and smiles.

Bjerg hears Falck sigh. He feels himself already forgetting what Falck has said and understands that the same is happening in the congregation.

The king is so saddened, Habakuk goes on in a sarcastic tone, that he now requires my own and my wife's presence in his palace in Copenhagen! He waves a piece of paper in the air. Bjerg sees it is the arrest warrant with the red seal.

But we are not to live with the king and look after his gardens, says Habakuk. As all who were present at last night's meeting will know, this is not an invitation to dine at the king's table, but an order to put me and my wife in chains and ship us away to a dungeon in Denmark.

An angry murmur.

I think it best that the priest and Constable Bjerg leave now, says Didrik.

Certainly not, says Falck. We shall remain here. No one will harm us.

His Majesty wishes to remove us, to take us away from our home, our country and our people, and he most surely hopes that everything will then settle and that the rest of you will bow down and return to the fold as the Missionary Falck of Sukkertoppen has asked you to.

Someone shouts from the congregation. Down with the king, Didrik translates.

But we will not bow down to the king, says Habakuk. Again, a shout: Down with the king! He is not our king, says Habakuk, and now he must raise his voice in order to be heard. He is their king. He points at Falck and Bjerg. The angry murmur increases. They come here with their guns and their warrants and their chains and their stories of children drowning. But we are not children, we are grown men and women and this is our country! We shall do as we please in our own country!

A shrill voice cries out: Down with the priest! The words are repeated by others. The commotion is becoming unpleasant; it echoes now from the crowd outside the church. But Habakuk lifts one hand and it is as if the noise is a ball he catches in mid-air, for at once everyone falls silent.

We Greenlanders are polite and friendly people, he says, and hospitable, as the priest has noted. Sometimes we may be too hospitable for our own good. We welcomed the priest and his constable among us, they have eaten our food and slept on our soil. They have done so because we are hospitable people. But our hospitality has been abused. These people have not behaved as guests ought to behave. They have harmed a person in our midst.

Falck and Bjerg exchange glances. Bjerg feels at once stricken by terror, though he has no idea where such a feeling should come from or why it should present itself.

Habakuk beckons to someone in the congregation. Some people come walking up the aisle. At first, Bjerg cannot see who it is, but then he recog­nizes Rosine and Amanda. Together with them are two elderly people. Bjerg recognizes them to be the couple who lay on the sleeping bench in the house in which he spent the night with Rosine. Now Didrik goes over and stands next to Rosine.

Habakuk takes Rosine by the hand and speaks to her in a kind voice. She replies almost inaudibly. He straightens his back and looks directly at Bjerg. He smiles as though in triumph.

This woman, he says in Danish, tells me that you, Rasmus Bjerg, committed an outrageous offence against her own and her husband's dignity.

A hundred faces turn and two hundred eyes fall upon Bjerg. He stands paralysed. He registers that those in his immediate vicinity step back from him.

Is the Constable not aware, says Habakuk, that violation of marriage contravenes the laws and regulations set out by both the Bible and the Royal Greenland Trade?

Falck speaks. Violation of marriage? How so? It may be the case that Constable Bjerg has acted inappropriately, that he has taken liberties and has allowed himself to be led into temptation, in brief that he has erred. But the dear little Rosine cannot be married, surely?

She is now, says Habakuk, and smiles. I married her myself yesterday in the name of the Lord and to this young man. He points at Didrik, who glares furiously back at Bjerg.

You have no authority, says Falck calmly.

I have the authority invested in me by my own people, Habakuk snaps. And now we wish the priest and his constable to take their leave.

You are a sly scoundrel indeed, says Falck. Your sin, sir, surpasses by far Constable Bjerg's human error. You and those who dance to your tune will burn in Hell for an eternity of eternities! Come, my dear Bjerg, come with me.

There is only one way out, and it leads them past Habakuk and the small group gathered around him. Bjerg fixes Rosine's eyes in his gaze, yearning for one last look from her. He still feels her skin against his palms and the salty taste of her sex on his tongue. She stands with Didrik. Amanda is beside them. He sees, or senses, that all three laugh at him with malice, and the feeling of it is more than he can contain. He expels a scream and hurls himself at the kayak man. The surrounding congre­gation steps back; they are given space in which to fight. Bjerg has floored him; he fumbles around for something to grab, finds a wrist, only for it to twist from his grasp. He takes him by the collar, then feels the other man's hand clutch at his hair and heave. He senses a searing pain in his scalp and thinks that if he does not do something fast the skin and its attached hair will be torn from his skull. He thrashes his fists, but the men are too entangled, they roll this way and that on the floor of the church. He endeavours to thrust his knee into Didrik's groin. Seemingly, he succeeds, for Didrik emits a cry and curls into a ball. Bjerg twists free and as he glances up he sees the ring of people surrounding them begin to close in. They will string me up in their gateway! he thinks to himself. He reaches swiftly into his boot and pulls out his pocket knife, locks his arm around Didrik's neck and hauls him to his feet. He holds the blade of the knife against his throat, turning it slightly in the light so that all may glimpse the steel. They step backwards.

I arrest you in His Majesty's name, he splutters, for assaulting a king's officer and putting his life at peril.

He begins to drag Didrik towards the church door. A path opens up in the congregation before them. The people stare at the two men, then all eyes turn to Habakuk, who smiles and nods and waves his hand dismissively. Let them go. And for that reason no one tries to prevent him as he bundles the kayak man away.

In the king's name, Bjerg repeats, and then again. In the king's name. He waves the knife in the air, then puts it to Didrik's throat once more. Mr Falck! he shouts. Please follow me! We have a long journey to row!

With puzzlement he realizes they will be allowed to go. Some even offer to help him with his prisoner. Down at the boat they find a thin rope and tie the man's wrists together behind his back, then throw him into the vessel. He remains lying there, protesting vociferously. Bjerg cannot understand why no one attempts to free him.

Falck has followed on at a trot with a handful of men to help them put out. He has Bjerg's flintlock with him.

I took it to prevent you doing yourself harm, he says.

So you knew what would happen?

Only in part. Someone was kind enough to send me a warning. I think it came from Maria Magdalene. But I had not reckoned on them turning against us in such manner.

But now they will let us sail away with this man?

I suppose they consider it a small price. He is not one of their own. Perhaps they feel obliged to give something up to the king.

And who is going to come with us?

We are on our own, I fear, says Falck. The two of us and our prisoner. The women prefer to remain here, and who can blame them?

Are we to row all the way home?

I'm afraid it is all most unfortunate, says Falck. I cannot help but feel it would have been better had we not come here at all.