The Long Ships (29 page)

Among those who had joined his banner was Orm Tostesson, known as Red Orm, from the Mound in Skania. He had brought with him a large and well-manned ship. Thorkel remembered him from the Christmas feast at King Harald’s castle and welcomed him joyfully.

It had so turned out with Orm that he had quickly wearied of sitting at home and arranging the affairs of cattle and farmhands; and he had found it difficult to live peaceably with Asa, though she did her best to make him happy. For she still regarded him as a half-grown boy and fussed continually over him with motherly counsel, as though he lacked the sagacity to manage things for himself. He did his best to explain to her that he had, for some years, been accustomed to deciding the affairs of other men as well as his own, but this information did not appear to impress her; nor did her zealous endeavors to convert him to her new religion and find him a wife improve his humor.

The news of King Harald’s death had come as a great relief to them both; for when Asa had first learned the truth about how Toke had got his woman, she had been overcome with terror and had been convinced that there was nothing for it but to sell the house and flee to the estate she had inherited from her father in the forests on the Smaland border, where even King Harald’s arm would scarcely be able to reach them. Her fear had been ended by the news of King Harald’s death; but Orm could not keep his thoughts from Ylva, and he worried more about her safety than about his own. Often he wondered what had become of her when her father had died; whether King Sven had taken her under his wing, as a prospective wife for one of his berserks, or whether, perhaps, she had fallen into the hands of the Swedes, the thought of which troubled him no less. Since he was on evil terms with King Sven, he could not think of any way in which he might regain her for himself, least of all while war was raging through and around the islands.

He said nothing about Ylva to Asa, for he had no wish to listen to the fruitless advice he knew she would immediately shower upon him. But he profited little thereby, for Asa knew several maidens in the district who would admirably suit his needs, and their mothers, being of the same mind as she, brought them to the house and displayed them newly washed, with their plaits fastened with red silk ribbons. The maidens came willingly and sat high-bosomed, a-clink with ornaments, shooting large-eyed glances at him; but he showed no enthusiasm for any of them, for none of them resembled Ylva or was as witty and ready-tongued as she was, so that in the end Asa grew impatient with him, and thought that even Odd had hardly been more difficult to please.

When, therefore, the news came that Thorkel intended to fare forth a-viking, Orm lost no time in procuring himself a good ship and hiring men from the district to come with him, paying little heed to Asa’s tears and entreaties. Everybody knew him to be a widely traveled man who had returned with much gold from his voyage, so that he found little difficulty in assembling a good crew. He told Asa that he did not expect to be away for as long this time as when he had previously set forth, and promised her that, when he returned, he would settle down to a peaceful life and take up farming in earnest. Asa wept, and protested that she could not endure such sorrow and loneliness, but Orm assured her that she would live much longer than he, and would help to birch his children, and his grandchildren to boot. But this only caused her to weep the more bitterly. So they parted, and Orm sailed to join Thorkel.

While Thorkel was still lying off Hven, waiting for a favorable wind, a fleet of twenty-eight ships came rowing up from the south; and from their banners and the cut of their stems it was apparent that they were Swedish. The weather was calm and good for fighting, and both sides made ready for battle; but Thorkel shouted across the water to the strangers, proclaiming his identity, and stating that he wished to speak with their chieftain. The Swedes were under the command of two chieftains, of equal sway. One was called Jostein, a man from Uppland, and the other Gudmund, an East Gute. They said they had come to help King Erik plunder in Denmark, and asked what more he wished to know.

“If our fleets join battle,” shouted Thorkel, “there will be little booty for the winners, and many men will be killed on both sides. I tell you this, though I am the more likely to prevail.”

“We have five ships more than you,” roared the strangers.

“That may be,” replied Thorkel. “But mine are all picked men, and we have just eaten our morning meal, while your men are weary from rowing, which makes a man less skillful with his spear and sword. But I have a better suggestion to make, which would redound to the advantage of us all; for I can name a more rewarding place than Denmark to go a-viking in.”

“We have come to aid King Erik,” shouted the Upplander.

“I do not doubt it,” replied Thorkel; “and if I join battle with you, I shall have given good aid to King Sven. But if, instead of fighting each other, we join forces and sail together to lands ripe for plunder, we shall have served our kings just as usefully as if we stay and battle it out here. For in either case none of us will take any further part in this war; and the difference will be that, if we do as I suggest, we shall all still be alive, with much fine booty waiting for us to come and collect it.”

“You use words skillfully,” said Gudmund. “There is wisdom in what you say, and I think we might profitably continue this discussion at closer quarters.”

“I know from report that you are both noble chieftains and honorable men,” said Thorkel. “Therefore I am not afraid that you will act treacherously if we meet to debate the matter.”

“I know your brother Sigvalde,” said Jostein, “but I have often heard it said that you, Thorkel, are of stouter mettle than he.”

So they agreed to meet on the island to debate the matter, on the beach at the foot of a cliff, in sight of the ships. Jostein and Gudmund were each to bring three men with them, and Thorkel five, bearing swords but no casting weapons. This was done, and from the ships the men of the opposing fleets marked how, at first, the chieftains kept their distance from each other, with their men standing close behind them. Then Thorkel ordered ale to be offered to the Swedes, together with pork and bread; and soon they were seen to sit down in a circle and talk as friends.

The more Jostein and Gudmund considered Thorkel’s proposition, the more excellent it appeared to them to be, and before long Gudmund was anxiously supporting it. Jostein at first held out against it, saying that King Erik had a savage memory for men who betrayed his trust in them; but Thorkel regaled them with details of the splendid plunder that awaited sea-rovers in the islands of the west, and Gudmund reckoned that they could worry about King Erik’s memory when the time came. Then they came to an agreement regarding the division of command during the voyage, and how the booty was to be shared out, so that no disputes should arise later; and Gudmund observed that so much meat and talk gave a man a fine thirst, and praised the excellence of Thorkel’s ale. Thorkel shook his head and said that it was, in truth, the best that he could offer them for the moment, but that it was nothing compared with the ale in England, where the best hops in the world grew. Then even Jostein had to agree that this sounded like a land worth voyaging to. So they took each other by the hand and swore to be faithful and to keep their word; then, when they had returned to their ships, three sheep were slaughtered over the bows of each chieftain’s vessel, as a sacrifice to the sea people for weather-luck and a good voyage. All the crews were well satisfied with the agreement that their chieftains had made; and Thorkel’s reputation, which was already great in the eyes of his men, waxed because of the wisdom he had displayed in this matter.

Several more ships came to join Thorkel, from Skania and Halland; and when, at last, a favorable wind arose, the fleet put forth, fifty-five sails strong, and spent the autumn plundering in Frisia, and wintered there.

Orm inquired of Thorkel and others of his comrades whether they knew what had become of King Harald’s household. Some said they had heard that Jellinge had been burned, others that Bishop Poppo had calmed the sea with psalms and escaped by ship, though King Sven had done his best to catch him. But none of them knew what had happened to the King’s women.

    In England things were beginning to be as they had been in the old days, in the time of the sons of Ragnar Hairy-Breeks; for King Ethelred had come to the throne. He had not long come of age and taken the reins of government into his own hands before men began to call him the Irresolute, or the Redeless; and honest seafarers from the north flocked joyfully to his coasts to give him the chance to justify his reputation.

At first they came in small bodies and were easily repelled. Beacons were lit along the coasts to signify their arrival, and stout warriors armed with broad shields rushed to meet them and drive them back into the sea. But King Ethelred yawned at his table and offered up prayers against the Northmen, and lay cheerfully with his chieftains’ women. He screamed with rage when they brought word to him in his boudoir that in spite of his prayers the long ships had returned; he listened, fatigued, to much counsel and complained loudly at being thus inconvenienced, and otherwise did nothing. Then the invaders began to arrive more frequently and in stronger companies, till the King’s levies became inadequate to deal with them, and the larger bands of them would sometimes drive deep inland and return to their ships bent double under the weight of their booty; and the word spread abroad, and many believed it, that no kingdom could now compare with King Ethelred’s in wealth and fatness for valiant seafarers who came in good strength. For it was by now many years since England had been properly plundered, save in her coastal areas.

But as yet no large fleet had sailed there, and no chieftains had learned the art of demanding danegeld in minted silver from King Ethelred’s coffers. But in the year of grace 991 both these deficiencies were remedied; and thereafter there was no lack of men willing to be instructed in this art as long as King Ethelred was there to pay good silver to such as came and asked for it.

Soon after the Easter of that year, which was the fifth year after King Ethelred’s coming of age, the beacons were lit along the Kentish coasts. Men gazed pale-faced into the morning mists and turned and ran to hide what they could and drive their cattle into the forests and take themselves into hiding with them, and word was sent to King Ethelred and his jarls as fast as horse could ride that the biggest fleet that had been sighted for many years was rowing along his coasts, and that the heathens had already begun to wade ashore.

The levies were assembled, but could achieve nothing against the invaders, who split up into powerful bands and plundered the district, gathering into one place everything that they laid hands on. Then the English fell into a panic lest they should drive inland, and the Archbishop of Canterbury betook himself in person to the King to crave help for his city. However, after the invaders had enjoyed themselves for a short while in the coastal area and had carried off to their ships everything that they found worth taking, they embarked again and sailed away up the coast. Then they landed in the country of the East Saxons and did likewise there.

King Ethelred and his Archbishop, whose name was Sigerik, promptly offered up longer prayers than ever; and when they heard that the heathens, after sacking a few villages, had put out to sea again, they had rich gifts distributed among those priests who had prayed most assiduously, believing themselves to be rid at last of these unwelcome visitors. No sooner had this been done than the Vikings rowed in to a town called Maldon, at the mouth of the river Pant, pitched camp on an island in the middle of the estuary, and prepared to assault the town.

The Jarl of the East Saxons was called Byrhtnoth. He had a great name in his country, and was bigger than other men and very proud and fearless. He assembled a powerful army and marched against them, to see whether blows might prove more effectual than prayers against the invaders. On reaching Maldon, he marched past the town toward the Vikings’ camp until only the arm of the river separated the two forces. But now it was difficult for him to attack the Vikings, and equally difficult for them to attack him. The tide came in, filling the river arm to the level of its banks. It was no broader than a spear’s-throw, so that the armies were able to hail one another, but it did not appear as though they would be able to come to close grips. So they stood facing each other in merry spring weather.

A herald of Thorkel the Tall’s army, a man skilled in speech, stepped forward to the river’s edge, raised his shield, and cried across the water: “The seamen of the north, who fear no man, bid me address you thus: give us silver and gold, and we will give you peace. You are richer than we, and it will be better for you to buy peace with tribute than to meet men of our mettle with spear and sword. If you have wealth enough, it will not be necessary for us to kill each other. Then, when you have bought your freedom, and freedom for your families and your houses and all that you possess, we shall be your friends and will return to our ships with your freeing-money and will sail away from this place and will remain faithful to our word.”

But Byrhtnoth himself stepped forward and, brandishing his spear, roared back: “Hearken well, sea-rover, to our reply! Here is all the tribute you will get from us: pointed spears and keenedged swords! It would ill become such a jarl as I, Byrhtnoth, Byrhthelm’s son, whose name is without spot, not to defend my country and the land of my King. This matter shall be settled by point and blade, and hard indeed must you hew before you find aught else in this land.”

They stood facing each other until the tide turned and began again to run toward the sea.

Then the herald of the Vikings cried across the river: “Now we have stood idle long enough. Come over to us, and we will let you have our soil as battleground; or, if you prefer it, choose a place on your bank and we will come over to you.”