HOMME FARM:

"I don't know how you can bear even to think about leaving your beloved Homme," Birgit told Jon the next evening as the boys trooped out to the barn for after-supper chores. "Homme is home. So many generations it's been in your family! I know how deeply you care for the old farm."

"I care for Homme, ja, and deeply. But even more I care for you, and for sweet Tone and her brothers." Jon grabbed his daughter as she passed with a stack of well-scraped supper bowls, kissing her on the ear. Five-year-old Tone squealed at his raspy cheek and tickling fingers, and squirmed away, giggling.

"I will always carry Homme in my heart," he told Birgit. "How can I forget the glorious view down from Homme's Crest? But it's our survival at stake. Our fortunes here in the dales are withering away, like barley in a blight. I won't cling to old hopes and watch our children starve. We must take another path."

"And what a path it is." Birgit caught herself shuddering and stiffened her spine. Down out of the fjells and across the sea. It would be an adventure. So she kept telling herself.

ÅKRE FARM:

Up The Dales from Homme at Åkre farm, Såvi managed five subfarms. In one dwelled Tall Såmund's sister Egeleiv Aslaksdotter with her husband and children. Into another, Tall Såmund Aslaksson settled Gunnhild and their five young ones, from one-year-old Bjørgo to thirteen-year-old Young Såmund Såmundsson, as well as Gunnhild's three remaining stepchildren.

Parting this second time came no easier than the first. Gunnhild bade her husband farewell, pressed a hand over her aching heart, and watched his dear figure stride down the trail to Brunkeberg. He wasn't coming back. He wasn't coming back! She must go to find him, next year at this season -- a voyage upon the wide, rolling sea, tossed at the whim of the harsh north wind, skimming over the haunts of the devilish Kraken.