TLV - 02 - The Road of the Sea Horse (2 page)

Thither Magnus and Harald steered in the fall, agreeing that next year they would come with a real army and quell the Danes for good. Magnus went straight to Nidharos, but Harald, who wished to see more of this lan
d he had won, entered the Sogne
fjord.

In and in his ships went, under tall cliffs helmed with forest through which showed occasionally the slender gleam of a waterfall, a gnarled tree clinging within a cleft, a steading perched, tiny, on the heights. The water was cold and darkly clear; clouds blowing over the steeps made it seem they
were endlessly toppling; an eagle hovered far aloft on sun-gold wings.

"So this is your country," said Elizabeth. Her voice was very low, as if crushed by the hugeness around her. "I see now what shaped you."

"My shire is less grand," Harald answered. "But my blood comes from such wellsprings as you see here. The very word 'Viking' means a man of the
vik,
the inlet."

She shivered a little.

Leaving his vesssels beached under guard, Harald rode off into the mountains at the head of such warriors as there were horses for, mounts either carried aboard or bought from folk of the neighborhood. Through a high wilderness they fared, where rivers brawled down into the tangle-wood of glens, flushed birds rose skyward in thunderous thousands, wolves howled, oftimes the mighty form of elk or aurochs shook horns against heaven. Dwellings were few, far apart, mostly small and poor, in the middle of fields carved out of the forest. A house could give shelter to the king, the queen, maybe two or three more, but the rest of the troop must spread sleeping bags outside. Then in the evening, the guests would likely hear fearsome tales of what haunted the land: elf and drow, were-bear and troll; no housewife failed to set out a bowl of milk for the hearth goblin, and on feast days offerings were made at the howes of long-dead chieftains. Hai, was that a rush of rain and wind in the night, or a ghost thumping his heels on the roof? Some men swore they had seen the Asgardh's Ride, one-eyed Odhinn leading the unhallowed dead on their endless hunt through the air, with screaming horns and baying hounds whose jaws dripped flame.

Beyond those parts, slopes led downward to the great valley called the Gudhbrandsdal. There folk were well off. Thori of Steig made Harald welcome, and the king stayed with him for some time, while letting his strength grow. Besides his picked followers, he drew many young men who had heard of him and thought they might do well in his service. Erelong he had a good-sized court of his own.

Having no settled home as yet, Harald left Elizabeth and Maria with Thori and renewed the olden practice: that a king should visit chief after chief, the cost of his stay with them being reckoned as part of their scot. He heard that Magnus was doing likewise this winter.

Riding through the Uplands, he was always questioning folk, to learn how the realm stood. Money was his worry; much though he already had, it would not last unless he could start gathering in the taxes due him. At one lordly hall, he was told that the harvest had been bad and there was not enough ready money to pay.

"Well," said Harald, "you have broad lands. You can sell some."

"My lord, this is odal land," protested the chief. "By law, it cannot be sold out of the family, and none of my kin would want to buy it of me."

"I know the law," said Harald impatiently. "But I know too you can borrow against your cattle or next year's crop."

The chief swallowed his anger as he saw the armed guardsmen. "If you could but wait a year, my lord . . . The interest is so high."

Harald cocked his brow. "No," he said. "I know your kind; let the king yield a finger, and you'll eat his whole arm. If the scot be not paid by spring, I will seize the land."

As he rode off, one of those who had lately joined him said, "My lord, this is no way to win their friendship. I've heard them talking when you were out of earshot, that good King Magnus would not fare thus against them."

"Magnus is a fool," said Harald bitterly. "He thinks this is a hundred years ago. I say it's not. Unless the king is strong, the kingdom will be weak—a prey for the first wild beast that comes along."

"How much of your fret is for the realm," asked Halldor, "and how much for yourself? Be not too greedy, Harald. He who reaches too far will fall."

"You have the soul of a yeoman," said Ulf.

"I'm following the rest of you," said Halldor. "When have I hung back from trouble? But I will not be a party to this sort of thing much longer."

Harald remained silent; he was used to Halldor's tongue, but he brooded over Magnus. This split rule could lead to no good, and it seemed to him that the younger man was buying the people's love with the people's strength.

At a large garth in the Uplands, he found his nephew also guesting. Magnus greeted him without warmth, and when they found themselves alone, blurted:

"Harald, I've been hearing talk of your doings.

Not thus did I plan to reign."

"You promised me my share of the royal power and income," replied Harald. "I was but taking it."

Magnus looked up the towering height of his uncle, to the lean unsmiling face. "You go too harshly," he said. "Kings have lost their thrones, sometimes their lives, for that."

"Because the chiefs and the commoners would not have change, even when change was needed," snapped Harald. "When I was in the South, I saw how one realm after another went under because it was weakly ruled. The empire was strong because all the power lay in one place, yet it could have been stronger had the emperors taken the reins themselves instead of letting geldings run their affairs."

"I even wonder about the wisdom of our strife with Svein," said Magnus unhappily. "God has given us Norway, and we could keep it peacefully. Trying to grasp more may but lead us to our doom."

"Is this Olaf's son?" mocked Harald.

Magnus reddened. "I and my friends drove out Knut's creature and smote the Wends while you were tumbling about the world to no more good than enriching yourself. Don't call me coward unless you are ready to fight."

Harald turned and left him, not trusting himself to speak further.

Thereafter, when he chanced to meet Magnus again on their travels, there were often hot words between them. A relation of the Haarekssons in
Haalogaland, who had never forgiven Magnus, told Harald that his nephew was plotting against him. Harald doubted that—willful and wrong-headed though he thought the young man, he believed him honest—but perhaps someday it would come true; t
he more likely since Einar Tham
baskelfir's friends were always deriding Harald to Magnus.

They were still outwardly friends, though, when they came together at Nidharos.

2

Despite its size, the Throndhelimsfjord had not the grandeur of other inlets, for here a great gash across the mountains formed the broad, wealthy Throndlaw. Where the river Nidh ran into the bay, a town had grown large and become the seat of the king. Harald thought it lay too far from the rest of the world; northward the land lost itself in the wastes of Finnmark and the cold Lofoten fishing grounds, ice and forest, and marsh and bleak hills. Better to have a capital further south, say on the Oslofjord, where Denmark was close and the folk less unruly. But he looked about with interest as he rode into Nidharos.

The wooden houses hemmed him in, galleries along the lofts, gaily painted gables, snow heavy on high-peaked roofs. He saw shops, stables, smithies, shipyards, warehouses; a few thousand people lived here. From an open square, he could see the ground rise steeply above the town, on its slope the half-finished Olaf's church and a stone hall Magnus was building. The dwellers, shaggy men and tall strong-boned women, waddled in many layers of clothing against the chill damp wind, but they all seemed well fed. Harald noticed that most of the men leaned on spear or ax and watched him go by with a silent wariness. The Thronds had broken more than one king who displeased them.

Dismounting at the royal hall, Harald entered with his nearest followers. As was usual even in town, its outbuildings formed a square around a cobbled yard. The hall itself, used for eating and drinking, was spacious: at one end the entryroom and foreroom, the rest taken up with a single great chamber. The shutters were opened on the small high windows, feeble light came through the thin-scraped gut that covered them and through the smoke hole in the roof; but most of the light was from the jumping fires in three long trenches. The pillars and panels were richly carved with vines and snakes and figures; the walls were hung with skins, antlers, weapons, and tapestries; the floor was thickly strewn with rushes. Men sat about on the benches lining the walls, dogs slumbering at their feet. These were the stolid stubborn Norse chiefs and warriors who were Magnus's court. They rose as Harald came in, but no great friendliness lay in the seamed faces.

He stopped. Trouble dwelt in this smoky air; he could almost smell it. The other king was not in sight, so he went up and put himself in the high seat and beckoned to a woman for mead.

"Where is Magnus?" he asked one of the men near him.

"Talking alone with his mother." His tone was insolent, but Harald decided not to quarrel with him. Trying to ease the tautness, he asked aloud: "Is there no skald here who can give us a verse?"

A young man, thick bodied, with blunt freckled features, ruddy hair and beard, stood up. "I am one of the king's skalds," he said. "I'll make a stave for you." He paused a moment, then spoke:

"Well-known king, you clove

with keels the sea horse road,

when duly west to Denmark

dragons plowed the waters.

Sithence Olaf's son

did soon with you share lordship:

kinsmen shared their kindness,

kingship was divided."

"You are an Icelander, I can hear," said Harald. He liked the way of this fellow. Not everyone would have dared thus to remind him of his bargain, or have been so courteous about it. "What is your name?"

"Thjodholf Arnason, my lord."

Harald took a gold coil off his arm, broke it, and gave half to the skald, a good payment. "Take this," he said, "and stand by me."

"I follow Norway's king, my lord," answered Thjodhalf, reaching for the reward. His meaning could be double, but he was at least not scheming behind a man's back.

"Why so many long faces?" asked Harald. "You may as well tell me, I'll know soon enough."

Thjodholf shuffled his feet unhappily. "It's about this Jutish leader, Thorkell Geysa," he said. "You remember he was caught last summer and brought here. King Magnus ordered that he be treated honorably, but now it seems the king's mother Alfhild has given him a ship and crew and let him go."

"So!" Harald stormed furiously to his feet. "It's not enough to let a hostage slip without ransom, but I who caught him am not even told! Where is she?"

"She's with the king her son, and—" Thjodholf broke off in relief. "No, here comes my lord now."

Magnus entered the room with his brows knotted together. He went to the high seat, and Harald loomed over him, barking: "What is this I hear about Thorkell the Jute?"

"He has been freed," said Magnus. "Does it concern you?"

"Aye, it does. If I am half a king, I bear half a danger. That was one of Svein's strongest chiefs."

"The matter has been settled."

"How? What did your mother have in mind?"

"My mother need not enter this," said Magnus shakily. "And now, Harald, if you remember the oaths we swore last spring, that seat is mine."

It was wide enough for two. Harald bit his teeth till the jaws ached, but rose and let him have it. "This is a cold welcome you give me," he said, "so I will not trouble you further. Good day." He walked from the hall and to the dwelling set aside for his own use.

Once there, he thrust back his rage and told the foot boy to get Ulf. The Icelander came in staggering a bit. "Whoof! This Throndish mead is a hearty brew. What a head I'll have tomorrow!"

"If you're not too drunk and too busy chasing women," said Harald, "find out for me why Queen Alfhild let Thorkell Geysa go. If there are plots against me, I want to know about them."

"Oh, that," said Ulf. He belched and leaned against the door post. "I already know that. I was getting rich off one of Magnus's guards, he has
no
luck with the dice, when your boy came, and we were gossiping. There's naught juicy to tell. Alfhild was merely being forehanded."

"In God's name, what was she after?"

"Oh
...
a place of refuge, in case something should happen to Magnus, her son. Naught else. Was that all you wished? Then I'll be off again."