Page 15 of North Is the Night
“Don’t bother denying it,” he shouts. “Onni told me everything.”
I knew he would. He dragged me home and all but threw me inside the house, slamming the door shut and threatening to sink me in the bog if I dared to leave before Father came home. I cross my arms. “Father, that priest called Aina wicked. He said she deserved what she got. You would expect me to do nothing?”
He groans, dragging both hands through his sweaty hair. “Gods help me, you’re not a child, Siiri! You’re a woman grown, and it’s time you started acting like one.”
Indignation hums through me. “And is a woman not allowed to stand up for the honor of her friends?”
“A woman should know when to hold her tongue!”
I gasp, reeling back. “You believe a woman can have no voice, then?”
“I believe thatpriestbelieves it should be so,” he counters. “Did you see a single woman in that crowd assembled today? Have youeverseen the Swedish priests take women aside and share with them any mystical truths about this formless god?”
I let the truth of his words sink in. No, never once has Brother Abbiørn sought out the women of my village to speak with us about his god.
“There is no place for women with the Swedes and their one god,” he goes on. “It is a god of men, Siiri. A god of wars and conquest. A god of blood and death and destruction. And if it keeps moving north, it will swallow us all. Why do you think I left Turku when I did? You think I wanted to leave? You think life is easier for us out here in this godsforsaken wilderness?”
My eyes go wide. “Wait... you’re not running from the Swedes at all, are you? You’re running from their god. You’re running forus.”
“Of course I ran for you,” he replies, his tone softening. “For Liisa, for your mummi, for your brothers and their future wives and children. Our gods demand balance, Siiri. They believe in justice and fairness and equality. The Swedish god stands against everything I hold most dear. It is jealous and vindictive. It demands total fealty and seeks only subjugation and violence. I fear the only way to stem the tide will be to meet it with more violence. And we’re not ready. The Finns aren’t ready to face a people united under one bloodthirsty god. We’re not ready for a war.”
I glance from Mummi back to him. “So, what happens now? How do we get the people ready?”
He sighs. “We don’t, Siiri. It’s not possible. All I can do is keep you all alive. I’ll keep you fed, keep you sheltered, and the Swedes will come as they will. Brother Abbiørn must be allowed to say and do what he wants. You must not antagonize him further. It’s not safe, Siiri. Do you see that now? Please tell me you understand.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I suppose we’re to be a family of rabbits, then, always hiding, always giving ground.” I huff in disdain. “I thought Finns were the brothers and sisters of Otso. We are bears, Father. We don’t run from a fight. We are strong. We protect our land—”
“We are not bears, we’remen,” he shouts. “And we are weak... and hungry... and few. And our gods have abandoned us.”
I shake my head, not wanting to believe him.
He lets out a heavy breath. “I need you to go to that priest, Siiri. I need you to apologize to him.”
“Never,” I hiss, angry tears stinging my eyes.
“Godsdamn it,” he bellows, slamming both fists on the table, rattling the wooden cups and bowls. “What do you think will happen when that priest travels south in a month and tells the Swedes in Turku that the people of Lake Päijänne are saying the old gods have returned?”
I cross my arms again. “Maybe they’ll finally leave us alone.”
Father scoffs. “That dream is as futile as a flower blooming in winter. Brother Abbiørnwillreturn, and he won’t be alone. Where there was one meddlesome priest, there will now be three. And if we don’t listen to their bleating and pretend to care, more will come: five... then ten. They will burn our sacred groves and smash our cup-stones to dust. If we don’t supplicate ourselves before that priest now, he’ll tear this village down around us. Mark me, Siiri, he will never forget the insult of a girl who claims to have seen Kalma.”
“Ididsee Kalma! Father, you know I did—ah—”
He lunges forward, smacking the unbruised side of my face, knocking me backwards. Tears sting my eyes as I touch the spot on my cheek with a shaky hand.
“Enough, Jari,” Mummi calls, getting to her feet at last.
I can see in his eyes that he’s just as shocked by his actions as I. He blinks twice, grunting with frustration. Then he points a finger at me. “You’ll go first thing in the morning and apologize to that priest. You’ll ask him polite questions about his god and listen quietly as he explains.”
“Father—”
“This youwilldo, or by all the gods, Siiri, I’ll belt you until your backside matches your face!”
Mummi steps forward. “Jari, that’s enough—”
“Quiet,” he snaps at her. “Better my belt on her stubborn back than militant priests putting a rope around her neck.” Chest heaving, he holds my gaze. “I’ll give you the night to think it over, and pray you make the right choice.” With that, he takes his axe off the table and storms out.
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