Shieldmaiden (33 page)

The hostage-takers lined up on the beach, close to the water's edge, fidgeting and adjusting their weapons. The hostages stood in front of them and the chieftain Olaf Biornson and his brother in front of them. The Lade housekarls stayed out of range. The silence was broken only by the screams of the gulls and the waves breaking on the sand. I felt sweat trickling down my back and my stomach was in a hard knot as I went to stand next to the Jarl and Hakon. They took no notice of me. They stepped forward, cloaks thrown back to show they were unarmed, and faced the two leaders of the hostagetakers. I went with them, stiff with anticipation. Hakon looked at me then. His eyebrows met over the bridge of his nose and his chin tightened but he didn't send me away. Olaf Biornson opened the lid of the chest and I saw the glow of gold as he lifted pieces aside to be able to see the coins at the bottom. The splendid jewellery, drinking horns, bowls and coins caused a murmur of anticipation among the hostage-takers. I fixed my gaze at the men and tried to figure out who would make a move on the King. I managed not to look at my children but I could not shut out the sound of Kveldulf 's voice as he called out:

‘Look, there's Mummy! Mummy, Mummy!'

I heard my mother shush him. The eager little voice tugged at me and I had an overwhelming urge to rush over to him and cover his dear little face with kisses. My hands shook, my eyes watered and my vision began to blur. I shook my head and blinked away my tears. The chieftain and his brother lifted the chest and staggered with it down to the water. They loaded it on to a small rowing boat and took it out to the knorr. Their men followed wading through the shallow water towards the boat. When the two men with the chest passed them the hostages began to walk towards us. In this general movement three men turned from the water and rushed for the King.

One came from the left. Toki saw him, stepped in front of him and threw his arms around him. He took the man's knife in his chest and they fell together. Hakon's men were with them in an instant.

The other two came from the right. I ran in front of Hakon and drew the short sword I had concealed under my pinafore. The two assailants were distracted and called out warnings to each other. The one in front pointed his dagger at me but my sword pierced his belly and he fell writhing to the ground. The other changed direction and ran away from us with great lumbering strides. I pulled out the other weapon I had managed to secret under my clothes, a small, sharp throwing axe. I raised it and took aim.

‘Don't kill him! Sigrid, don't kill him!'

It was my mother. Her cry startled me and my aim failed. Instead of landing, sharp edge first, between his shoulder-blades the axe glanced off the side of his head. He staggered and lost pace. Two housekarls caught up with him and cut him down. They dumped his twitching body at the King's feet.

The rest of the hostage-takers had the oars out and were escaping. The air filled with noise, screams and curses. Olaf Biornson stood in the stern of the knorr cupping his hands round his mouth to make himself heard.

‘None of my doing!' he shouted. ‘Not my men!'

All that was no longer of any concern to me. Shaking with relief, I ran to embrace my children. I took Harald from my mother's arms and knelt next to Kveldulf, holding both my sons close. I kissed their soft, round cheeks and told them again and again how much I'd missed them. Through Kveldulf 's excited chatter, Harald's crying and my own sobs I heard my mother quietly keening. It took some moments before I realised and got up to look at her. She stood with her eyes fixed on the dead assassin. Her voice was barely audible as she intoned the lamentation for the dead.

‘Mother?'

But she was unable to speak. Olvir arrived and took Harald and Kveldulf from my arms. I rose and grabbed my mother by her shoulders. I didn't want to but I had to know. I heard my own voice, shrill and trembling.

‘Mother, who is that man? The man who tried to kill Hakon. Who is he?'

She looked at me with dead eyes and whispered:

‘Be quiet… your brother.'

I turned to run across to where Steinar was breathing his last. My mother threw her arms around me from behind and held me close.

‘Don't move,' she hissed into my ear. ‘Think of your children! Whatever you do, stay away from him.'

That brought me to my senses. I clung to her. I buried my face in her shoulder and the material of her dress muffled my agonised scream.

‘I killed him!'

‘You didn't know. It's not your doing.'

‘Yes it is. It is. I killed my brother.'

‘The housekarls killed him.'

‘Oh, Steinar!'

‘Shh Sigrid, be quiet, be quiet! The King must not know who he was. He must not find out. The children, think of the children.' I knew she was right and I clenched my teeth to stifle my crying. ‘Sigrid, we shall grieve later.'

We held each other in a trembling embrace. My mother kept repeating: 'The children, the children…' and it helped to steady us so, when Hakon came towards us, we were able to greet him. He seemed to think our tears were those of joy and relief at our reunion. I never knew how much he noticed or understood. Maybe he knew it was Steinar but he never let on and so we never had to answer for my brother's attempt on his life.

Toki died from his wound and was given a hero's funeral. My brother Steinar's head was cut off and displayed on a stake next to those of the other two would-be assassins. Their bodies were thrown to the dogs.

PART SIX

VENGEANCE OF THE GODS

27.

A ship was launched to follow and capture the other hostagetakers. It took too long to get going and the men returned and confessed they had lost sight of the knorr. The King was in bad humour with the Jarl who kept to his belief that the assassins had acted without the knowledge of Olaf Biornson. The Jarl seemed not to care about anything else than the joy of having his wife safe with him again. He laid on a great feast to celebrate the victory over the attackers, the return of the hostages and the foiling of the conspiracy to kill the King. All I wanted was to be with my children, to grieve for my brother and try to come to terms with what had happened to him and the part I had played in that. But my mother and I were both required to attend the feast. With death in our hearts we dressed in our best clothes, coiled our hair and straightened our shoulders.

We greeted King Hakon and Jarl Sigurd where they sat at the head table on the dais. The Jarl's wife sat by his side and next to her sat one of the Jarl's younger brothers. Next to the King were two empty seats and when we rose from our curtseys he beckoned us forward and placed us there with me next to him in the place of honour. The hall was silent and I felt all eyes on me. My hands shook and my legs were so weak I had to be helped up on to the dais. Hakon spoke in a loud voice for all to hear.

‘Niece you have earned my trust and my gratitude these last few days. I shall have to think of a suitable reward for you.'

It felt like the chair and the dais disappeared from under me and I floated on thin air. Becklund and a pardon for Ragnar, they were there for the asking. But now the moment was here I couldn't find the words. My lips wouldn't move, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I tried to swallow and find my voice. Hakon's eyes were on me. I had to speak.

‘I… ahh, I…' My mother tugged at my dress.

‘It's honour enough to be here,' she hissed.

I'm sure Hakon heard but he didn't move a muscle in his handsome face. I saw the cold strength of the man and the ruthlessness of the King in those features.

‘Sire, it is honour enough to be here and to be allowed to serve you.'

He bowed his head in recognition.

‘We shall consider and return to the question later. Now tell me, niece,' he sat back as a wench served me with meat and wine, ‘ about the battle of Brunnanburh.'

Back in my mother's house we argued about what I should request from Hakon.

‘Ask for Becklund but no more,' said my mother. ‘Don't overreach yourself or you'll end up with nothing. Don't even think about a pardon for your father so soon after Steinar tried to avenge him. And as for the son of that Jarl Swein…'

‘I saved his life! He owes me more than a farm.'

‘Hakon is King and will decide for himself how to reward you. He may prefer to give you land here in Norway. It would keep the land in the family and still show him as generous and fair.'

‘Land, here in Norway! But I…'

‘There are worse places, Sigrid. You and the children will be very far away from me if you return to Cumbria. I may never see you again.'

‘But Becklund, Mother, Becklund! How can you bear to be away from there?'

‘You forget I grew up here. My last memory of Becklund still haunts me.'

‘But you'd come back there with me, wouldn't you?'

‘My darling girl,' she laughed and shook her head. ‘There's only room for one mistress at Becklund. Here I have my own household and, if the Good Lord so wishes, I shall have a community of believers to look after too. And besides, it really wouldn't suit me to live at Becklund with you in charge. Don't look at me like that. I know you did very well here in my absence and you have run your own household too. I don't doubt your ability but I am no Aisgerd, there's no use pretending I would sit quietly while you ruled.'

What she said made sense but it meant I had found her only to be separated from her again. And yet I felt such a longing for Becklund. I spent my whole carefree, happy childhood there and I wanted that for my children. Norway was beautiful but it was not my home.

‘I shall ask for Becklund and a pardon for Ragnar.'

‘No, leave the pardon. When dealing with kings and chieftains it is better to ask for too little than too much. Make it easy for Hakon. Land is easy it doesn't involve honour.'

When night fell and all went quiet I could no longer keep the thought of Steinar away. When I closed my eyes I saw his head on the stake, his eyes being pecked at by carrion birds and his mouth open in an agonised howl. Afraid of sleep I got up and wrapped a shawl around my shoulders. The fire had been banked up for the night but I stirred it to life and got some warmth. Resting my feet on the hearth I sat with my elbows on my knees and looked into the glowing embers searching for some answers to the senseless death of my brother. What could I have done differently?

A movement in the dark hall made me look up. My mother sat down beside me and put her arm round my shoulder. She knew my thoughts.

‘It was not you who killed him. They would have caught him sooner or later and they would have given him a slow, painful death. Remember, it was his choice. The Lord knows I tried to talk him out of it but in the end I couldn't stop him and he did what he thought he had to do.'

‘He stayed true. He followed the path of honour.'

‘Oh, honour – where did it get him and your father for that matter? No, you did the right thing and your children will thank you.'

‘Down in the harbour, when there was fighting, I turned on Hakon. I was going to…'

My mother put her hand over my mouth.

‘Sigrid! Shhh, don't say it. In the end you served your king. You saved his life. That's all that matters.'

‘But I betrayed my father.'

‘No, you found a different way to serve his memory. Hakon will never pay weirgeld. A king does not admit to a wrong killing. He must always be seen to be right. But if he gives you Becklund it would be the same as both pardon and weirgeld without Hakon having to say it. That's justice enough and you have to be content. People will understand. They will know you restored your father's honour.'

‘And Steinar?'

‘There was nothing you could have done to change his fate.' I nodded, thinking I had understood her.

‘No, we can't change the destiny the Norns have woven for us.'

‘Oh Sigrid, that's wrong. It's not what I meant. The Bible teaches that the Good Lord gave us all a free will. We make our own decisions. Steinar chose his destiny. I grieve but I have to accept and so do you. I pray for his soul. I ask Christ, the merciful, to take pity on the poor, misguided man who was my son. I shall pay the priest to hold masses and say prayers to speed Steinar's soul through purgatory. He had the mind of a child and Jesus said to let the children come unto him. Thanks to you he does not have blood on his hands and I'm sure the Lord will know that and take it into account.'

My mother's belief didn't help me. Steinar had remained true to the Old Religion and he fulfilled his duty. Later, I thought about him arriving in Odin's great hall. Nobody had considered him a warrior before. My father would, at last, be proud of what his son had tried to achieve. That was some comfort to me but didn't absolve me from my part in my brother's death. I didn't sleep that night. My mother said her prayers over and over. I envied her certainty and her belief in forgiveness. I was far from convinced that my gods would be so merciful and I knew I had a debt to pay.

The next day there was a steady stream of people entering the court. Farmers and local chieftains came to show their loyalty to Hakon, to account for loot and thralls they had taken and to listen to the stories of the battle, already exaggerated and glorified. I was surprised to hear that I had single-handedly fought off ten berserkers before they even had time to step off the ship. Would this have been when I stood with Ulf and Anlaf on the roof throwing axes and spears at them? Or was it when I followed in the wake of Hakon's hird chasing the attackers towards the beach? I learned much about the forging of poems and songs that day and I never looked at a hero in quite the same way again.

Anlaf revelled in the attention he got as my karl. With Toki dead and not yet replaced Anlaf was accepted into my mother's household. The women fussed and fawned over him and he made the most of his injured leg. Odin only knows what lies he told about his courage and mine. Olvir too had stories and information about the battle and he wasn't even there when it happened.