TLV - 02 - The Road of the Sea Horse Page 15

  "Thirteen men I've had murdered,

  manslaughters unforgotten;

  honor drove me to evil:

  with evil is evil rewarded.

  Ever 'twas hard to answer

  with aught but betrayal a traitor;

  lies bear each other's likeness;

  leechcraft uses a sickness."

  Ulf turned wrathfully away, and it was some time before he yielded his friendship again. But Styrkaar guffawed and repeated the verse for others.

  With Fyen helpless before them, the Norse thrust inland, fighting and burning and taking home a mighty booty. Afterward Harald returned to Oslo to oversee the work there, and got news that Jarl Orm Eilifsson had died.

  5

  Finn Arnason had sat home during the summer, busying himself with small affairs that swarmed like ants to fill a man's days. Toward the end of the season, he ordered butchering and brewing and other preparations made for a great feast, with which he meant to welcome Kalf back.

  It was a day of fine, misty rain when one of the thralls cried that ships were standing in. The sheriff flung a cloak over his shoulders and stumped eagerly out. Through the drizzling air, he could just spy the three dragons which neared his dock, shadow ships in a shadow world. About him, the planks thundered with feet, housefolk getting in each other's way, shouting importantly to fetch hawsers. One little boy leaned too far in his excitement and went into the water; hoo, hoy, a turmoil and a dozen boathooks and a spanking for him! Finn smiled, trying to forget the ache in his bones.

  The nearest vessel drew in her larboard oars, men grabbed flung ropes and pulled, sea-battered strakes thumped against bollards. Her skipper sprang to the dock. "Where's Finn Arnason?" he cried.

  "Here I am." The sheriff groped forward. Raindrops sat in his gray beard. He blinked at the captain. "Who are you? Oh, yes, to be sure, Gautrek Highbreeks; I remember you now. Did you have a good voyage? Where's my brother?"

  The seaman looked away. "Kalf is dead," he answered slowly.

  Finn stood very quiet, leaning on his spear.

  "He died in Fyen," went on Gautrek. "We found a churchyard and buried him there. Our chaplain said Mass for him. . . . The king would not let us go home before he did himself."

  Finn shook his head, as if he had taken a blow.

  "He died bravely," said Gautrek in a clumsy voice. "He fell against heavy odds. Few of us were left after that battle, only enough to man three ships. We burned the rest."

  "Well—" Finn stopped.

  Men were making the other craft fast and stretching sails to shield the cargo; they spoke little, and in hushed tones. The thin rain hid the other shore; water dripped from the boathouse eaves like tears.

  "Well," said Finn, "come up to the hall. We'll have food in a short while."

  "There was never a more valiant man than Kalf Arnason," said Gautrek, matching his slow pace. "All mourn him. It's like, well, an old tree which has stood all your life, and then suddenly lightning strikes it. The sky looks empty afterward."

  "One by one," said Finn. He nodded, the careful nod of an aging man. "One by one."

  Gautrek looked around, then brought his mouth close to the sheriff's ear. "If you want revenge on that wolf we call king, then I'm your man."

  "Eh?" Finn halted. The soaked mantle dripped at his feet; soon he stood in a puddle. "What mean you?"

  "Know you not? Harald Hardrede slew him, as surely as if he'd wielded the blade himself. He sent us to meet an overwhelming force of Danes, and held back his own men till we were beaten and Kalf dead."

  "I cannot believe it," whispered Finn.

  Gautrek spat. "You must be simpleminded indeed, if ever you thought the king would make peace with Kalf."

  Finn stared at the gray blur which was his world. "And I summoned him home," he said.

  Abruptly he straightened, lifting the spear, and shouted forth: "Now God be my witness, from this moment I'm Harald's foe! Here and now, before you all, I curse Harald Hardrede. I swear to do him no less ill than he's done me. Christ above, I ask You, where is Your honor, that You have not already cast him into hell?"

  Gautrek shuddered and crossed himself. "Speak not so—" he began, but Finn did not hear. He raved for minutes before silence returned to him. Then he stood shaking as if with an ague.

  When finally he spoke again, it was in a dulled voice. "Come with me to the hall, friends. We've much to talk about." He led the way and himself told Bergljot the news.

  In the next few days he worked calmly, setting his affairs in order and gathering ships and men. With no small following, he bade Norway farewell and sailed off for Denmark.

  There he sought out Svein, who gave him a friendly welcome and spoke long with him in private. It ended with Finn and his family swearing troth to the Danish king, who made him jarl in Holland. Here he steered the defenses against his countrymen, the Norse Vikings, and was often in battle with them.

  He had thought to meet Haakon Ivarsson and lay plans for a return under the rebel banner. But this was not to be.

  XI

  How Haakon Ivarsson Came Home

  1

  There was a man named Asmund, son of King Svein's lately dead brother Björn. As a boy he was handsome, brave, and gallant, so that all adored him, not least the king his uncle. When his beard started to grow, he was taken into the royal guard and shown every honor. He was now a big, thick-shouldered youth, with good-looking features, dark hair, and sulky lips, and was rich enough to keep a following of his own. But these were a raffish, murderous crew, and their wildness soon entered Asmund's blood until he was guilty of no few manslayings himself.

  After upbraiding him vainly for some months, Svein discharged him from the guard, but gave him a fief to support him with his men and mistresses. Scarcely had Asmund moved there, when he began gathering more companions of the same sort, until his lawful income could not be stretched to feed them. So he laid hands on much more of the king's goods than was his right.

  When Svein heard of this, he summoned Asmund to him and said: "For the sake of our kinship and the love I ever bore you and your father, as well as because Christ tells us to forgive those who work harm, I will still be patient with you. Give up your fief and your evil friends, come back to the guards, and this shall be forgotten. Otherwise it will go ill for you, my friend."

  The youngster agreed gloomily, and behaved himself for a time. Then one night he could endure it no longer, so he fled, and sought out his old comrades. They lived in northern Sealand for a while like robbers, stealing and killing and raping among the folk. Finally Svein rode thither with a troop, surrounded Asmund's house, and had him brought back in chains to Roskilde. There he was locked away for a while, it being the king's hope that this would make him repent.

  But no sooner was Asmund released than he broke every promise he had given and left. He gathered men and goods to outfit a longship, and in this he went as Viking both abroad and at home, sparing naught that came under his sword.

  Haakon Ivarsson had lain out summer and winter with his ships. When he heard of heathen raiders, he attacked and slew those he could catch, and sometimes sought their own lands to punish them with fire and iron. But most of the time it was only a dreary lying at anchor, in rain and snow and paint-blistering sun, and his soul chafed. When he visited the king, he was always shown honor and given fine gifts, but it still seemed to him he was making little headway in the world; and often the image of Ragnhild Magnusdottir drifted through his thoughts.

  In the same summer that Harald Hardrede plundered across Fyen, Asmund Bjarnarson's ship came to Lolland, where he sacked and burned no few thorps. The yeoman and fishers looked at ash which had been their homes, buried stripped and bloody things which had been dear to them, and sent men to put their grievance before the king.

  Svein was in a black temper, the news from Fyen was a knife at his soul. . . . Dear God, how long must the land hold out? When could he lay his weary bones to rest? He looked at the hairy, rough-handed m
en who stood half afright to plead with him, and snapped:

  "Why do you come to me? Why go you not to Haakon Ivarsson? He's my chief of defenses down there, and it's his task to give you cotters peace and block off the Vikings." His lip lifted. "I've heard tell that Haakon is a valiant man; but now it seems he's fain to keep away from such places as danger may visit."

  When the commoners had gone, Svein sat for a while with his face buried in his hands. Thereafter he called for his chaplain, for it seemed he must have sinned in laying his own faults at another man's door.

  But his words were carried, with additions, to Haakon. The Norseman sat quiet during his meal, then said frostily: "Busk yourselves, my boys, we've got work to do."

  His ships slipped from the harbor, out into choppy seas under a long slant of rain. At Lolland he made inquiries and learned that Asmund had last been seen going northeast, toward Mon. The wind was strong and favoring; he crammed on sail recklessly and steered thither while his crews bailed out what waves broke over the sides.

  Erelong the chalk cliffs of Mon Island lifted before him. Haakon ran close to them, ignoring the chance of shipwreck. Several days' rain ended as he sailed, a dirty wrack of clouds whipped over the sky, and the pale hurrying sun slipped westward. There was still daylight when he descried a dragon lying to under the steeps.

  He waved his steersman to edge nearer, and stood up. The drenched cloak hung soggily about his rust-spattered byrnie, one splash of red in a world all gray and white; even at war, Haakon was careful about his dress. "Hoy, there!" he bawled. "Halloo, this is the king's coastal defense. Who are you?"

  A man's voice returned through the din of surf: "This is the ship of Asmund Bjarnarson, the king's kinsman. Go your way. We have this anchorage already."

  "Strike the masts," cried Haakon to his little fleet, "and ready for battle."

  His own longship rowed ahead of the others, up toward Asmund's where the Vikings were donning mail and snatching shields. Haakon took a bow and shot at them. The string hummed and sang without rest. Arrows and spears made answer, until the two ships grated together and grappling hooks bit into bulwarks. Then Haakon took his sword and led the boarding party.

  A richly clad youth in the bows shouted: "You'll hang for this! I'm the king's nephew!" Haakon was too busy to reply.

  Another ship lay alongside. Now the Vikings were outnumbered; and still more guardsmen poured in, crossing decks to do so. The Vikings fought hard, Asmund not the worst, but their luck was over. Erelong Haakon's folk had cleared the hull and won up to the raider captain and his last men.

  Haakon himself encountered the youth. Ever his skill laid shield in the path of enemy sword. And his own blade carved. Asmund began crying, less in fear than in rage. He lunged forward, blind with the blood running into his eyes. Haakon chopped at his leg and the Viking toppled. The last thing Asmund saw was the Norseman stooping above to cut off his head.

  Haakon ordered the few prisoners killed and every Viking body cast overboard; but he kept Asmund's head. Next morning, with his own dead honorably wrapped, he ordered a course for Hafn.

  Two days later King Svein was at meat when hoofbeats clattered outside. His mood was better than formerly, since he had just been sent a Book of Hours from Italy. It lay on the table beside him; he would not touch the lovely binding with greased fingers, but his eyes caressed it.

  "What's that?" he asked absently when the noise resounded. Turning to Bishop William, his guest, he went on: "This makes the two hundred and fourth book I have. Not so ill for a once landless outlaw, think you? I hope to have a thousand before I die."

  "Beware the sin of pride, my lord," said the bishop.

  "But who could not be proud of this? Wait till I show it to you, Your Reverence. Never have I seen such work with gold leaf, and the little figures are almost alive; ho, ho, an elfin kingdom for my own!"

  Haakon Ivarsson entered. The travel-stained cloak swirled from his shoulders, and his face was trenched with wrathful lines. "Greeting, my lord," he said. The sword rattled at his waist as he held forth something bundled in cloth. "I have a gift for you."

  "Well," smiled Svein, "let me see."

  "Do you know this?" asked Haakon. He drew the cloth aside and threw Asmund's head on the table. It rolled to a halt by the royal place and gaped sightlessly up at the king.

  Svein's face flamed, but he spoke not a word. Haakon bowed, wheeled, and left again.

  A few days later the Norseman got a message from the king that he had best take himself elsewhere. "I will do you no harm, but I cannot answer for our relatives."

  2

  Haakon gathered those of his countrymen who had followed him and told them how matters stood. "We are ill repaid wherever we go," he said, "and the question is who shall next have the chance to kick us."

  "We could try England," said one warrior. "The great earls are known to be open-handed."

  "Or Thorfinn Jarl in Orkney would make us welcome," added another.

  "But do you wish to be homeless all your lives?" countered Haakon. "It's been long since we saw kith and kin, or slept in-our own halls, or walked the hills we know. What say you we go back to Norway?"

  "King Harald is no near friend of yours," remarked someone.

  "No. But perhaps we can be reconciled. I may have been somewhat hasty, my temper was always overly quick." Haakon's fair head lifted. "Or if we must, we can fight. Better to bear shield for our own hearth fires than for a stranger whose quarrels mean naught to us."

  That seemed a rash venture, but Haakon urged it with all the charm and cunning he could muster, and in the end they agreed. The next day they loaded a ship and embarked.

  Haakon sailed through the nights as well as the days. His longing gripped him; however far he fared, his heart was always anchored. When he stood at the steering oar, his crew hidden by darkness and sleep, joy dwelt in him.

  The ship rocked and surged, her timbers creaked, waves struck the hull and boomed far out across a shadowy horizon. Down the length of the vessel was a cargo of night; the sail rose above in a murmurous wall, ropes sang as the cold dew tautened them, the wind lulled in the sky. Up there flashed uncounted stars, gleaming and glittering in a chill crystal black: the mighty sprawl of Carl's Wain, six misty glimmers from Freyja's Spindle, the Milky Way spilling and foaming across heaven, and always and always the far keen blink of the North Star. Somehow Haakon did not feel alone. Up ahead lay the dear lost dales of Norway. An eagle would be flying over Hardanger Falls and Dofra's gaunt peaks storming the moon; he was home-bound.

  When they entered Oslofjord and stopped overnight at one of the fisher thorps, they learned that King Harald was at his new town. Haakon's men look alarmed, but the chief's jaws clicked together and he said: "As well have it out now as later."

  "Should we not seek your garth first and raise some men?"

  "Then would indeed be war. I'll go by myself to him, if the rest of you are frightened."

  After those words, they must needs all follow, as he had known when he spoke. Inwardly, he grinned.

  Nonetheless, there was a thickening in his throat when the ship tied up at Oslo dock. He looked at the folk bustling about, the skeleton frames of more buildings than he could tell; he listened to hammer clack and saw rip, and thought this might be his last day to sense the world. And a lovely world it was, broad and fair, where the fjord sparkled blue and the hills smoldered with early autumn. When he donned helmet and shut the wind's hand off from his hair, it was like closing a coffin.

  Armed and armored, the sixty men of his longship tramped from the harbor and up a muddy new street toward the king's half-finished hall. They met stares, whispers, a few daring cheers. The crowd drifted in their wake, to the courtyard where a guardsman slanted his spear across their path.

  The chief wet his lips and said: 'Tell the king that Haakon Ivarsson has come back in peace and wishes audience with him."

  The warrior gaped. He gave the word to another, who stumbled over his own feet a
s he ran to bring the message. Haakon waited for what seemed a long time.

  The man came back, panting. "King Harald will see Haakon alone. He pledges safe-conduct whatever may be said."

  "How much are his promises worth?" muttered one of the crew. "Best we go back to the ship before—"

  "No. Wait here." Haakon stepped briskly inside.

  He found Harald sitting on a balk of timber while workmen scrambled above him. A few guards stood near, but their blades remained sheathed. Haakon bent the knee and then faced the king boldly.

  "Well." Harald stroked his beard. "You have come back."

  He looked tired, the skin was burned brown and stretched tight over the big bones, his eyes seemed unnaturally large and alive. But even seated, it was as if he filled the place, leaving scant room for others.

  "Yes, my lord."

  "So I'm your lord again? What brought you home?"