Chapter 11 (pp 267–292)

A haunting account of Fridrick’s ten-year-old brother Bjarni’s testimony is recorded as this chapter opens. It states that although he was urged to remain quiet about it, Fridrick had slaughtered some of Natan’s livestock last autumn. He would speak nothing further about his brother but it serves as an example of the angst between Fridrick and Natan and of the course system that, with both ‘toughness and gentleness’ (p267), interrogated the young child for more information.

Margret takes Toti’s place as the recipient of Agnes’ confidence; a natural progression as the ‘two dying women’ (p269) are plagued with sleepless nights and begin to find solace in one another’s company. Margret’s respiratory distress continues as she begins to consistently cough up blood, and Agnes has gathered enough information over her time in service to know that little can be done for the woman. Margret’s seemingly innocuous comment that there’s ‘more than one way a body can die’ (p271) resonates, given what the future holds for the both of them.

Whether it’s because she is a woman or more world-wise than Toti, Margret tends to understand Agnes’ complaints about Natan’s cruelty with acuity. He refuses to release young Sigga so that she may marry Fridrick, but his blatant lack of conscience does not qualm at taking the young suitor’s money as a dowry regardless. As Agnes’ story comes closer to its climax, Kent’s imagery is vivid as she draws the motifs from the novel together; the ravens reappear as sinister reminders of the dangers that lurk near to her, the driftwood erupting into flames is synonymous with the homestead being set alight days later, and Fridrick’s bludgeoning of the young livestock reminds readers of the brutality that is to follow.

Chapter 11 Quotes

Margret paused. ‘A mother always thinks of her children,’ she repeated. ‘Your mother, Fridrick’s mother, Sigga’s mother. All mothers.’ (Margret to Agnes) Chapter 11

‘I asked him why he had taken the money if he seemed so set against it, and Natan laughed and said that only a fool refuses money freely offered.’ (Agnes, about Natan) Chapter 11

‘Seeing Fridrick hack at the sheep with his boots unsettled something within me. It was portentous: the rapid limbs, dark against the snow, colliding with the soft corpse until a fine mist of blood floated above.’ (Agnes to Margret) Chapter 11

Chapter 12 (pp 293–303)

This chapter begins with a hefty excerpt from the Laxdaela Saga, the inter-textual link when Gundrun incites her brother to murder her lover, keeping the possibility of Agnes’ guilt alive.

When the situation at Illugastadir becomes too much, Agnes, Fridrik and Sigga plot to flee the homestead. When Natan arrives home unexpectedly, he brings ‘Sheepkiller-Petur’ (p296) with him and tensions flare, leading to Fridrik bludgeoning Petur and stabbing Natan in the neck. Fridrick’s decision to ‘sort this out once and for all’ (p298) releases Agnes from the premeditated blame of the crimes and allows readers to see that what happened at the isolated farm was the play of men, to which the women were merely spectators.

Fridrick’s shock after the event does little to lessen the violent nature of the attack on Petur whose head had been caved in by a striking of a hammer, and Natan, who’s life-blood gushed out onto the floor. Despite her horror, Agnes’ strength prevails as she finds it in her to do what she believes is the right thing, to plunge the knife into Natan’s side and end his pain and misery. All the time, Sigga sits crouched in the corner, cowering.

Chapter 12 Quotes

Natan laughed. ‘You never mean what you say, Agnes. You say one thing, and a different meaning lurks beneath it. You want to leave? Leave!’ (Natan to Agnes) Chapter 12

‘… as the light crept across the bed I saw that Petur’s head was crushed. Blood darkened the pillow. Something glistened on the wall, and when I looked I saw several drops of blood slowly running down the planks.’ (Agnes recollecting to Margret) Chapter 12

‘The knife went in easily. It pierced Natan’s shirt with neat rips, sounding like an ill-practised kiss – I couldn’t have stopped if I’d wanted to. My fist jerked, until I felt sudden, close warmth over my wrist and realised that his blood covered my hand.’ (Agnes recollecting to Margret) Chapter 12

Chapter 13 (pp 305–328)

One of the most official documents prefaces this chapter denoting Sigga’s imprisonment for life at a work prison in Copenhagen, that the executions will be suitably carried out in the district (among those who know of the crimes to minimise the chance of riot), and that the beheading shall be swiftly exacted by Gudmundur Ketilsson, Natan’s brother. The careful details of the instructions are chilling and so clinical that it seems like a common event; the reality of Kent’s novel is that Agnes (in real life) was the last woman ever to be executed in Iceland. In addition, readers have spent so long alongside Agnes as she bides her time that such a blunt reminder of her impending execution is jarring. Finally, Blondal’s letter to the custodians at Midhop, who have been striving with Sigga for her pardon, reminds us of the unconventional manner of Toti’s approach with Agnes. Blondal has worked to reinforce his authority to Toti from his first correspondence to their initial meeting, and this is aptly juxtaposed with Blondal’s familiar address to the Br. P. Petursson of Midhop as his ‘truthful, loving friend’ (p311) unmasks a congeniality to which we have yet to be privy.

The elegiac tone of the accompanying Icelandic Burial Hymn reflect Toti’s sentiments more than Agnes’ as the narrative shifts to him awakening at his home with the news that the beheading will take place in six days. Despite his father’s constant concern for his welfare after having miraculously survived his illness, Toti hastens to Kornsa to tell the news. Agnes is naturally distraught and there is little anyone can say or do to ease the shock; Toti’s repetition that he will stay ‘here for you [her]’ and ‘be there with you [her]’ becomes a mantra as the days pass and in the end, it seems that may be all she ever required of the young minister. To exacerbate the trauma that the news has brought, the point of view of the narrative changes from one small section to the next, bouncing around the characters that stand in the badstofa as the news is delivered.

One final revisit to the fateful night at Illugastadir explains the arson charge that Agnes and Fridrick are sentenced with, as they investigate the large trunk of expensive whale fat and blubber that Natan stored like a precious cargo for the stolen money. In their clumsiness, a lamp smashes to the floor and the house goes up in flames, immolating the dead bodies of Petur and Natan, reducing them to ash and dust.

Keen to combat the creeping darkness of the night before the execution, the Jonsson family huddle together with every lamp lit in the badstofa. Margret’s illness is still declining yet she is resolved to gift Agnes a lovely dress with an embroided bodice, the likes of which Agnes would never have worn, and the brooch that she once accused Agnes of trying to steal. Admitting it’s the ‘least we [they] can do’ (p323), no one objects and she lovingly lays the items out on Agnes’ trundle bed and returns to her knitting.

In her distress, the morning of the execution is interlaced with snatches of the dreamlike state that Agnes’ consciousness has moved itself into as a form of preservation, and the touching tributes from each of the Jonsson family members. Steina embraces Agnes like a sister, sobbing into her shoulder; Lauga collapses with the weight of her conflicting feelings for this woman and perhaps the guilt of having shunned her so readily. But it is Margret’s parting words that render Agnes finally able to spit out the stone that her mother gifted her as a memento, when she exclaims ‘we’ll remember you, Agnes… my girl’ (p324). The metaphoric ‘spit’ (p324) is lost on Margret, naturally, but as Agnes is lifted onto a horse for her final ride, Jon appears and gives both Agnes and Toti a swig of alcohol to steady their nerves.

The execution is dealt with swiftly by Kent, in much the same fashion as Blondal ordered his executioner to do. The language is brutal, describing the ‘strange mounds’ (p326) on the hillside where the crudely erected wooden platform and chin block are located, and the unfamiliar flock of ‘forty men… all dressed in black’ (p327) standing as witnesses to justice being enacted. Despite her bluster throughout the novel, Agnes behaves as anyone might, losing control of her bowel and bladder, falling to her knees as her shivering legs can take her no further and the final but predictable pleading for more time as she implores Toti to ‘make them [the executioners] wait’ (p328). Toti revisits his earlier promises that ‘I’m [he’s] right here’ (p327) and stays with her till the end.

Chapter 13 Quotes

Toti read the letter three times, then let it rest on his knee as he stared into the fire. It could not be happening. Not like this. Not with so much unsaid and undone, and him not even by her side. (Toti after receiving the news that Agnes’ execution was less than a week away) Chapter 13

Toti heard Margret click her tongue. ‘It’s not right,’ she was muttering. ‘It wasn’t her fault.’ (Margret to Toti) Chapter 13

She took out a dark skirt with an embroidered pattern about the hem and laid it carefully on the blankets beside her. Then she did the same with a white cotton shirt, an embroidered bodice, and finally a striped apron. She smoothed the wrinkles out of the folds of material with both hands. (Margret laying out clothes for Agnes’ execution) Chapter 13

Epilogue (pp 329–330)

The epilogue consists of a final historical document that confirms the executions have been a success and that the headsman Gunmundur has expertly delivered the fatal blow to both accused with little hesitation. In a traditional that harks back to medieval practices, the heads of Fridrick and Agnes are mounted on spikes on the hill and their bodies buried in untreated coffins, with no burial rites for either of them being afforded. This record was written in the Magistrate’s Book for the Hunavatn District; the date was 1830.

Epilogue Quotes

The farmer Gudmundur Ketilsson, who had been ordered to be executioner, committed the work that he had been asked to do with dexterity and fearlessness. (From Blondal’s letter confirmed the executions) Epilogue

While the deed took place, and there until it was finished, everything was appropriately quiet and well-ordered… (From Blondal’s letter confirmed the executions) Epilogue