5

Siiri

Onni leads the way through the woods back towards our house. I walk behind him on silent feet, a basket of vegetables from Milja on my hip. The building to our left is a small structure with a thatched roof. It used to be a barn, but the family moved north two summers ago. The Christian priests use it now. Onni takes a deer path that brings us closer to the side of the building.

“We should stay away,” I warn.

“This way is faster,” he replies, not slowing down.

I peer through the trees, noting the new addition on the roof. A large wooden cross casts its shadow over the clearing. An ominous feeling of wrongness tickles the back of my neck. “Onni, please, let’s go around.”

Onni stops, and I nearly walk right into him. He puts out a hand, catching me by the shoulder. I tense, my gaze locking on Brother Abbi?rn at the far end of the clearing, standing on an oaken stump. A dozen villagers stand between us, listening to him speak.

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 Abbi?rn 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 was not wicked,” I shout, startling some of the gathered men.

“Siiri, don’t,” Onni warns.

Brother Abbi?rn 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 Abbi?rn replies from atop his stump. “In word and deed, we have sinned. But some of us can be spared. You were 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 Abbi?rn 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 of my hand!”

Anyone in my reach edges away.

“No Christian devil took Aina last night,” I go on. “It was Kalma! I was there, I saw her. 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 Abbi?rn 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. Our gods still rule this land—”

“Siiri, come on .” 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 Abbi?rn 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—”

“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 that priest believes it should be so,” he counters. “Did you see a single woman in that crowd assembled today? Have you ever seen 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 Abbi?rn 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 for us.”

“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 Abbi?rn 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’re men ,” 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 P?ij?nne 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 Abbi?rn will return, 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.”

“I did see 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 you will do, 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.