"Heya," he sighed, shaking his head sadly. We sat together in silence for a moment-but only for a moment, for he suddenly smiled, and said, "But I have a daughter now-born in the spring after I left. She is just like her mother, and I have named her Karin."
His smile grew wistful. "Ylva is my wife now, so it is not so bad. Ah, but I miss Karin, Aeddan. She was good to me, and I miss her." He paused, remembering his good wife, then added, "But everyone dies, and I will see her again in heaven, heya?"
Despair cast its dark cloak over me, and I said, "You see how unreliable this God is, and yet you still want to build a church? Truly, Gunnar, you are better off without it."
Gunnar regarded me in disbelief. "How can you speak so, Aeddan-especially after all we have seen?"
"It is because of all we have seen that I speak as I do," I retorted. "God cares nothing for us. Pray if it makes you feel better; do good if it pleases you, but God remains unmoved and unconcerned either way."
Gunnar was quiet for a moment, gazing at the little stone chapel. "The people of Skania pray to many gods who neither hear nor care," Gunnar said. "But I remember the day you told me about Jesu who came to live among the fisherfolk, and was nailed to a tree by the skalds and Romans and hung up to die. And I remember thinking, this Hanging God is unlike any of the others; this god suffers, too, just like his people.
"I remember also that you told me he was a god of love and not revenge, so that anyone who calls on his name can join him in his great feasting hall. I ask you now, does Odin do this for those who worship him? Does Thor suffer with us?"
"This is the great glory of our faith," I murmured, thinking of Ruadh's words to me-but changing them to reflect Gunnar's sentiment, "that Christ suffers with us and, through his suffering, draws us near to himself."
"Just so!" agreed Gunnar eagerly. "You are a wise man, Aeddan. I knew you would understand. This is most important, I think."
"You find this comforting?"
"Heya," he said. "Do you remember when the mine overseer was going to kill us? There we were, our bodies were broken, our skin blackened by the sun-how hot it was! Remember?"
"Sure, it is not a thing a man easily forgets."
"Well, I was thinking this very thing. I was thinking: I am going to die today, but Jesu also died, so he knows how it is with me. And I was thinking, would he know me when I came to him? Yes! Sitting in his hall, he will see me sail into the bay, and he will run down to meet me on the shore; he will wade into the sea and pull my boat onto the sand and welcome me as his wayfaring brother. Why will he do this? Because he too has suffered, and he knows, Aeddan, he knows." Beaming, Gunnar concluded, "Is that not good news?"
I agreed that it was, and Gunnar was so full of joy at this thought that I did not have the heart to tell him I could not come and be his priest. Later that night, after our guests had been made as comfortable as possible in the guest lodge, I lay down to sleep and instead found myself thinking how strange it was that Gunnar should come to faith this way.
Sure, I myself had told him most of what he knew. But he had endured the same hardships, and suffered all that I had suffered, and more-at least, I had not lost wife and friends to fever while a slave in foreign lands-yet Gunnar's travails created in him a kinship with Christ, while mine produced only separation. This seemed very strange to me. Stranger still, I fell asleep wondering not what was wrong with Gunnar, but what was wrong with me?
The thought dogged me into the next day. It was Passion Day, the commemoration of Christ's death, and the beginning of the Eastertide celebrations. The monks do no work on this day, and so we had leisure to entertain our guests. Abbot Fraoch, never one to miss an opportunity of spreading the faith, called me to him and asked me to assemble the Danes so that he could address them. This I did, and he extended to them the invitation to be baptized.
"Do you think this wise?" I asked, while Harald and the others considered the offer. "They know nothing of Christianity. They have had no instruction."
"I merely open the door," the abb told me. "Let the Good Lord bring in whoever he will." Lifting a hand to where the Danes conferred, he said, "Look at them, Aidan. They have come here to get a priest and build a church. This is the favourable Day of the Lord! Let them seal their faith-now while the spirit is moving. There will be plenty of time for instruction later."
Harald spoke up then, saying, "We have held council over this matter, and it is decided that Gunnar is willing. Therefore, he should be baptized now."
