The Viking Seal

CHAPTER 12 - Let The Lesson Begin

The professor fired up and puffed on his pipe, and beamed at his audience, pleased to be the wise educator. "Another type of poetry more complex and metaphorical, known as the skaldic poetry, was performed by skalds. These were bards or court poets. The earliest known skald was a Norwegian, Bragi Boddason, who lived in the first half of the 9th century.

When skaldic poetry ceased in Norway, it continued in Iceland. A somewhat later development of Old Norse literature, evolving from the poetry, is the saga, a prose epic or narrative. These sagas were told by the Icelanders but were not concerned solely with Icelandic events. This poem is one such tale."

"It's about the map, isn't it?" Melanie couldn't resist.

"Partly, my dear, we think." He puffed another blast of smoke into the air, giving her a shrewd look. "The raids of the Vikings in the 9th and 10th centuries are among the best-known episodes of early medieval history. Their attacks fell on the British Isles, the Atlantic and North Sea shoreline of the Carolingian Empire, which included most of what are now France, Germany, and the Low Countries, and to the east on what became Russia.

At the same time, the Vikings were developing new outposts of settlement in Iceland, Greenland, North America, and the North Atlantic where they set up kingdoms in Scandinavia along the lines of those in Europe. We believe the map we- Mister Stone's client- found in Egypt is the depiction of one of these latter explorations—specifically the new world—North America."

"Do you think it's from the original discoveries or some later period?" Melanie was getting right into the discussion, and Stone made a comical face behind her back.

"Our belief is that this was indeed an original route and possibly even that of the man who preceded Leif Ericson— Bjarni Herjólfsson!"

"So how does this poem or saga or whatever, help?" Gretta asked.

"It tells of a journey taken across wide waters to an unknown world where a man could gather fish with his hands, where there was boundless, fertile land for farming and an abundance of grape vines. I'm paraphrasing of course. There are some geographical references in the poem that coincide with some of the markings on our fragment of the map.

If the poem and the map are a unit and if what we think these references mean turns out to be true, the value to our historical knowledge will be staggering and worth more than one could imagine." He puffed again and removed the pipe from his mouth, giving them his most serious look. "We think this map—in its entirety— shows the location of a store of Viking goods that was left hidden for future explorations. When the analysis is finished we should know for certain. That's why Wayne Jenner is so keen to get his hands on what we have—and vice versa."

"You knew about this before we went north." Arny sat up, frowning.

"About Wayne? Yes. I told you about a competing group." Cheesy's pipe clicked against his teeth, his annoyance growing again. "We have covered this ground over and over and I think it's time to get past the sometimes necessary distasteful aspects of our work and move on." He removed his pipe and hammered it on the edge of the ashtray, sending a large dollop of tobacco onto the table.

"You are only here on my sufferance, Arnold." The threat landed with a thump in the middle of the table, drawing everyone's eyes away from their neighbour.

"Fine!" Arnold stood up, pushing his chair back. "You can stop suffering me as of now."

"Oh no we can't," Gretta shouted angrily. "Sit down there and stop behaving like a kid." She turned to the professor, "And as for you, Cheesy, let's quit moaning about Arny's opposition. A dissenting voice is sometimes a good brake for over eagerness, which is a trait we've all experienced."

The two men looked at one another with a mix of hostility and embarrassment from Gretta's scolding.

"Listen, Arny," Stone broke the awkward silence, pointing to Gretta and himself, "we knew about Jenner and his favourite emissary, Moira, from our initial briefing. It was no surprise. The people I've run across in this business place very little value on anything but the prize. I'm not saying we expected what happened, but it goes with the job. Moira has crossed my radar before—not directly, but her presence was known—and like the group you dealt with in Mexico, she has but one mandate."

Gretta looked down at the table and then at Melanie to see how she accepted Stone's statement.

"I don't see how innocent people's lives can be worth some historical piece of paper. It doesn't change anything. Who cares who discovered North America?" Arny persisted.

"If the world took that attitude, Arny, we would have no art treasures or museums or libraries. There would be no points of reference for mankind to move forward from." Melanie placed a hand on his arm, "My father devoted his entire life to the discovery and preservation of history and frankly, his discoveries did change some things. Research and discovery are big buzz phrases today for good reason. They are necessary if we expect to continue discovering things, to improve the lives of this planet's inhabitants. Remember your promise?"

****

The room was deadly quiet. Melanie's impromptu support had taken them all by surprise with its intensity and the seriousness of her delivery, and the last part gave both Stone and Gretta a look of eye-opening wonder.

"I didn't mean- I wasn't saying that the people who did like your dad . . ."

"Don't apologize, Arny. I probably came on a little too preachy and stuffy." Melanie blushed and shrank a bit into her seat.

"Maybe," he grinned begrudgingly, "but your point is taken, I do remember." The mood lightened and Cheesy managed to expel another cloud of smoke from his relit pipe as everyone relaxed.

"So then, what else does this poem tell us, Professor?" Stone slipped his arm over the back of Mel's chair, looking at her with a mix of pride and curiosity, and she leaned toward him comfortably.

"Let me quote a bit of it, of course I'll be paraphrasing again, our linguistic team is still examining it but they've given me a broad outline of its content." He placed his pipe in a large copper ashtray by his elbow and eagerly picked up a typewritten sheet from his file folder. "Generally it tells of a people whose land was running out, that is to say, for farming and such. Game was getting scarce and the urgent need for supplies drove them to exploration, raids and war. I must warn you up front, skalds are not iambic pentameter."

He squared his shoulders and began to read.