been priceless, not to mention its symbolic value to a passionate collector such as him.
'And what did he want to know about Brynjolfur Sveinsson?' Thora asked.
'That was quite interesting,' the young man said. 'At first he was only interested in seeing his gravewhich is impossible because it hasn't been found yet.'
Thora interrupted him. 'Not found yet? Wasn't he buried here?'
'Yes, he was, but he asked to be buried outside the church, beside his wife and children. There's an account of the location, but it still hasn't been excavated. He wanted to rest in an unmarked grave.'
'Wasn't that unusual?' Thora asked.
'Very much so. In fact, the grave was marked later with a wooden fence that stood for thirty years. Then it began to fall down and wasn't maintained, in defiance of the church's orders. No one really knows why he didn't give himself a tomb beneath the nave, as was the custom at that time. It's thought that he found it too cramped when he attended the funeral of one of his clergymen here. Maybe he wanted to put an end to the practice.'
'And did it end?' asked Matthew.
'No, not at all. But there may have been another reason. He died a broken man. Understandablydying alone, that remarkable figure, with all his family dead and no descendants. Most people find his fate very moving.'
'But you said Harald was interested in seeing Brynjolfur's grave at firstdid he move on to something else?' asked Thora.
'Yes, he did. I started talking to him about Brynjolfur when I saw how upset he was about the grave. I took him into the crypt and the archaeological exhibition there. Then I showed him the excavations outside. We got onto the subject of Brynjolfur's libraryyou know that he owned a large collection of Icelandic and foreign manuscripts?' Thora and Matthew shook their headsneither had any idea. 'And you know that he gave some of Iceland's most remarkable calfskin books to King Frederik of Denmark?' Thora shook her head again.
'Your friend got very excited when I started telling him about the manuscripts and wanted to know what had happened to them when Brynjolfur died. I couldn't tell him exactly, but I did know that he gave his foreign books to the infant son of the governor of Iceland at the time, who was a Dane named Johann Klein, and that he shared out the Icelandic ones between his cousin Helga and his sister-in-law Sigridur. As far as I recall, some of the Icelandic books went astray; at least, some were missing when Johann Klein came to collect them. The clergy at Skalholt are suspected of hiding them to stop them from being sent to Denmark. Those books and manuscripts have never been found. No one even knows the titles.'
'Where could they have hidden them?' Thora asked, looking all around.
The young man smiled. 'Not in here. This building dates from 1956. The old church that Brynjolfur had built in 165051 collapsed in an earthquake in 1784.'
'And you haven't looked for them?'
'We still haven't found the graves of Brynjolfur and his family, in spite of the description of the location. He died in 1675. We certainly wouldn't look for books that were only rumored to have been buried here at that time. And the fate of the books he bequeathed is uncertain. Apparently Arni Magnusson came across a few when he began collecting manuscripts. Some of Brynjolfur's books can be recognized from his monogram.'
'BS?' Thora asked, for the sake of contributing something.
'No. LL.' The young man smiled.
Thora repeated in surprise: 'LL?'
'
Their conversation soon came to an end. Matthew and Thora thanked the young man for his patience. Before starting the car, Matthew turned to Thora and said: '
'Definitely,' Thora said with a smile. 'Let's start with the cemetery.'
'You'll have to do the shoveling, thenyou're dressed for the part. I'll sit in the car and light you up with the headlights.'
They left Skalholt. 'I know where we could go next,' Thora said, with an air of innocence. 'There are caves near Hella that were probably dug out by Irish monks. Maybe we can find an explanation there for Harald's interest in the hermits. I have a hunch Harald borrowed the flashlight to take a look around there.'
Matthew shrugged. 'It's worth looking intowon't we need a flashlight too?'
'Maybe we can pick one up at a gas station.'
By the time they reached Hella it was pitch-dark. They began by buying two flashlights at a gas station. The attendant told them they could find information about the caves at Hotel Mosfell. It was only a stone's throw away, so they left the Jeep and walked. At the hotel a friendly elderly man followed them outside to point out the caves, which were just visible beyond the main road on the other side of the river. He also showed them the best path to take, since the caves could not be approached by car. After thanking him, they returned to the Jeep and drove straight over the bridge to where he had advised them to park. Much to Thora's delight they had to walk a fair distance over a meadow that appeared to belong to the farm there. Matthew kept stumbling in his slippery shoes but always managed to keep his balance by flapping his arms like he was trying to fly. When they reached the edge of the slope down to the caves, Thora was in excellent spirits.
'There,' she said, pointing with her flashlight. She feigned concern. 'Do you think you'll make it down there, Fred Astaire?'
Frowning back, Matthew tried to suck it up. He inched his way down the slope like a ninety-year-old man while Thora bounded down like a spring lamb. She struck a pose in front of him, determined to enjoy the moment, and called out mischievously: 'Chop-chop!' Matthew ignored her and finally made it all the way.
'What a rush you're in,' he said as he caught up with her. 'Are you that excited about having dinner with me afterward?'
Thora swung her flashlight up and shone it in Matthew's eyes. 'Hardly. Come on.' She turned round and they entered the first cave. 'Wow, how on earth did they think of this?' she said in astonishment, casting the beam of light around the wide space. Unless she had misunderstood, the caves had been carved into sandstone by Irish monks using primitive tools.
'What do you think they were for?' Matthew asked.
'Shelter, mainly,' said a voice from the mouth of the cave.
Thora let out a piercing shriek and dropped her flashlight. As it rolled along the bumpy floor of the cave, the beam bounced along the facing wall until it stopped. 'God, you made me jump out of my skin,' she said, bending down to pick up the flashlight. 'We didn't know anyone was in here.'
'Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,' said the man, whose voice gave the impression that he was quite elderly. 'We're even actually,' he added. 'It's a long time since I've had a shock like the one your scream gave me. They phoned me from the hotel to say some sightseers were on the way to the caves. I thought you might want a guide. My name's Grimur and I own the farm above here. The caves are on my land.'
'Oh, yes,' said Thora. Not a bad property to own, she thought. 'We'd be delighted to have a guidewe don't really know very much about what we're looking at.'
The man walked inside the cave and began explaining what they could see. He spoke Icelandic and Thora translated the gist for Matthew. Grimur showed them where beds had presumably been arranged by the walls. Then they examined a chimney that had been carved out through the ceiling to let air in, or smoke out. He pointed out an altar and cross that the monks must have chiseled or carved in the wall behind it. 'Well, well,' Thora said, surprised and impressed. 'This is quite remarkable.'
'Yes, it is,' the man said feelingly. 'This has never been an easy land to live off ofor in, for that matter. Any efforts to acquire shelter would have paid off for the early settlers in the long run.'
'I can imagine.' Thora took another look all around with the help of her flashlight. 'Have the caves been investigatedI mean, couldn't there be valuables hidden away in here?'
'Valuables?' He looked surprised and then laughed. 'It was used as a cattle shed until around 1950. You couldn't really hide anything here. It would have to be very carefully concealed, I can tell you that.'
'Ah,' Thora said, disappointed. 'So it's all been searched?'
'No, I didn't say that,' the man replied. 'As far as I know my caves have only been studied once.'
