Page 14 of North Is the Night
This priest started showing up several summers ago. He travels up and down the lakeshore, visiting different villages, always talking with the young men. He’s short, with large, round eyes. He wears his hair in an odd style, with the top of his head shaved. And he has no beard. He wears a long dress like a woman, tied at the hip with a corded belt. A small cross hangs around his neck on a leather cord. His crisp, baritone voice carries over the crowd to Onni and me on the path, no longer concealed by the trees. Instinctively, I adjust my hood, trying to hide my face.
“This is a warning, brothers,” the priest calls out. “It is a sign of the Devil’s power over this place. But it is also a victory cry to the Believer. God will take the wicked and cast them into the pit of eternal darkness, but the righteous of the Lord will be sent heavenward.”
“Is he talking about Aina?” I hiss at my brother.
“But why was she taken?” one of the men calls out.
Brother Abbiørn turns to him. “The Devil will always claim the wicked. We must have faith that all those who walk in the light of the one true God will be free of the powers of darkness!”
Rage courses through me as I drop my basket of vegetables. “Aina wasnotwicked,” I shout, startling some of the gathered men.
“Siiri, don’t,” Onni warns.
Brother Abbiørn gazes across the crowd, his dark eyes settling on me. Slowly, he smiles. “You saw the Devil last night, didn’t you, child? You felt the hot breath of Hell on your face.” Looking around at the group, he points to me. “All of you, look now! The Lord placed His hand upon her head and spared her from the wrath of Satan. The good shall always be spared.”
“Are you saying Aina wasn’t good?” I shout. “Are you saying she deserved what happened to her?”
Onni grabs my arm. “Siiri, stop.”
I jerk myself loose, taking two full steps into the clearing. My hood slips back, revealing the ugly bruise on my face. Those closest to me move back.
“We are all sinners, child,” Brother Abbiørn replies from atop his stump. “In word and deed, we have sinned. But some of us can be spared.Youwere spared. The Lord is not done with you yet.”
My hands curl into fists. “And where was Aina’s sin? She is the truest person I’ve ever known. I defy any man here to disagree!”
A few mumbles of assent reach my ears.
“If she is so pure of heart, why did the Devil take her?” Brother Abbiørn challenges.
Squaring my shoulders, I make the sign of Ukko with my left hand and shout, “By Ukonvasara, I swear that the first person to side with this scheming foreigner and blacken Aina’s name will get a knife in the back, courtesy ofmyhand!”
Anyone in my reach edges away.
“No Christian devil took Aina last night,” I go on. “It was Kalma! I was there, Isawher. Please, you have to believe me!”
“Siiri, enough,” Onni growls, wrapping both arms around me from behind. He lifts me clean off the ground. A few men chuckle as I fight and kick, trying to get myself free from his iron grip.
“Onni, put me down,” I snarl, but he just backs away.
“The Lord has plans for you, girl,” Brother Abbiørn calls after us. “He spared you from the fires of Hell!”
“It’s called Tuonela, you ignorant swine!”
Now the villagers are muttering, backing away from us. Onni tightens his grip.
“It was Kalma,” I shout again, pointing at the priest. “His god is not here.Ourgods still rule this land—”
“Siiri, comeon.” Onni drags me down the path towards home, our boots squelching in the mud.
“You will be His acolyte in the end, Siiri Jarinsdotter,” Brother Abbiørn calls through the trees. “You will be a true Believer!”
That afternoon, the door to the cabin snaps open, and Father marches in. His eyes narrow, a deep scowl on his face as he takes me in, sitting on the floor before the hearth with Liisa’s cat asleep in my lap. “What have you done?” he bellows.
I flinch as the terrified cat scampers off. “Father?”
He jerks his axe out of his belt, slamming it down on the table. “Did you insult the priest? Did you threaten him?”
I glance over at Mummi, who sits quietly peeling carrots, only recently returned to the house herself from a visit to Milja. Then I rise to my feet. “Father, listen—”
