Kjartan was on his way back to the district administrative officer’s home when he suddenly remembered that a new name had cropped up in connection with the Danish visitor. The farmer Sigurbjorn had told him that Hallbjorg in Innstibaer had allowed the guest into the library. It could do no harm to hear more details about that side of the story. The young boy who had taken the priest’s message down to Grimur was now on Kjartan’s path and was able to direct him toward Innstibaer. It was easy enough. There was only one path in that direction, and Innstibaer was the last croft on the sea side of the path. Two amicable orphaned lambs greeted him with their bleating by a quaint little house. Two women were sitting on wooden footstools on the sidewalk, knitting woolen socks in the sunshine. One of them was in her seventies, tall and stout. The other might have been just over fifty and was small with delicate features.
Kjartan greeted them and introduced himself. The women returned the greeting, intrigued, but did not introduce themselves in return.
“Is one of you called Hallbjorg?” Kjartan then asked.
“Yes, that’s good old me, young man,” the eldest answered.
Kjartan recounted his conversation with Sigurbjorn to her and asked if she remembered the Danish visitor.
“Yes, that’s my job in the village, to take care of the key to the library. Anyone who wants to borrow a book has to get the key from me first. But when strangers come and want to take a look at the library, I take them there myself. That’s the general rule, dear.”
“Do you remember this Danish man?” Kjartan asked.
“Yes, yes. He wanted to have a go at the old riddle.”
“Do you mean the questions in the Flatey Book?”
“Yes, it’s a terribly innocent little riddle, but they haven’t managed to solve it yet.”
“Who’s they?”
“All kinds of bigheads who claim to know things about the Flatey Book.”
“Do you know if Professor Lund was able to solve the riddle?”
“No. I don’t think so. Not that I was peeping over his shoulder when he was having a go at it. He worked on it until the early hours.”
“Can I get to see the list of questions?”
“Yes, I don’t see any danger in that. I’ll lend you the key and you can have a look yourself. My leg’s bad today.”
The woman stood up stiffly and vanished into the croft.
The other woman silently glanced at Kjartan but immediately averted her gaze and focused on her knitting when he returned her gaze. She must have been a pretty woman in her day, and even though age was clearly creeping up on her, she still possessed a graceful air.
Kjartan stooped over the lambs that had settled by his feet and patted them until Hallbjorg returned.
“Here,” she said, handing him an old key, which Kjartan took.
“Will I be able to find it on my own?” he asked.
“Yes. The Munksgaard book is in a glass case against the northern wall. You can’t miss it. It’s not a big building. You can open the drawer, and the enigma sheets are slipped inside the beginning of the book. Just remember not to take the sheets out of the library. Misfortune and bad luck will follow anyone who takes those pages out or copies them.”
“Why’s that?”
“It’s just a fact, everyone knows. An old curse, dear. There are ancient magical runes on the sheets, and no one knows what curse they unleash if they’re not treated carefully. The key to the riddle can only be found on those sheets, and they can never be taken out of the library. Unless, of course, the riddle has been solved, in which case the winner can keep the sheets.”
“Is that the winner’s prize then?”
“Yes, and the honor, of course. The person who solves the enigma will become famous.”
“Is it a very old enigma?”
“Not that old, but a good hundred years at least.”
“Have the sheets been in the library all that time?”
“No, no. The old librarian who received the Munksgaard book for the library’s centenary celebration received the riddle with it. Before that it had been kept by the king in Copenhagen. These are very important documents.”
Kjartan was on the point of leaving when Hallbjorg beckoned him over and shoved something into the palm of his hand.
“Here’s a piece of candy, dear. Something sweet’ll do you good.” She gave him a warm smile.
Kjartan looked at the dark piece of candy in his hand and thanked her. He then said good-bye, and the lambs followed him as he headed toward the village.
Question four: Who was the cruelest woman? First letter. The saga of the Greenlanders talks about Freydis, the daughter of Eirik the Red, and how she reached an agreement with the brothers Helgi and Finnbogi to travel with her to Vinland. But after they arrived, Freydis’s real wickedness was revealed and she got her men to enter their lodge and kill them. When all the men were dead, there were five women left that no one wanted to kill. Then Freydis picked up an axe, struck the women, and killed them. The answer is “Freydis,” and the first letter is f.
He said, “Here the guest writes the name Sigrid, the daughter of Skogul-Tosti.”
She browsed through the book and said, “This one is also possible. Harald Grenski came to the estate of Queen Sigrid the daughter of Skogul-Tosti. That same evening another six kings had arrived there, and all proposed to Sigrid. The kings sat in the ancient hall. There was no shortage of drink, so everyone got very drunk and fell asleep. Then in the night Sigrid bade her men fall on them with fire and weapons. The hall was burned down with the seven kings and their men inside. Sigrid said that this would dissuade puny kings from other lands from coming to her and trying to woo her. The letter is therefore s.”