TLV - 03 - The Sign of the Raven (12 page)

"That will be harder," said Eystein. A wryness twisted his mouth. "They are Norse. I like it not."

"Nor I," said Harald, "but the task must be done." His glance fell on Magnus, who had come with this band and fought well. "I'd not leave you a kingdom where men dared rebel, my son."

The youth's face kindled.

The host worked busily, binding up hurt friends and putting these with their fallen comrades on litters chopped from branches. Thereafter they stripped the Swedish dead, for a good plunder of weapons and ornaments, but let the wounded foemen, fallen into their hands, go home as best they might. It was some time before the conquerors started back to the ships.

That would be several hours' walk, but Harald had no wish to camp in the snow. He mounted his stallion and led the way. Behind him, torches flickered down the trail, like a snake with scales of fire. Overhead the sky was clearing, stars glistened out and the moon threw an eldritch whiteness on the land.

Ulf rode too. "Walk alongside me, Gunnar," he asked. "I'm like t' fall off. Wha' the Devil'd you put in 'at jug?"

"Wine, I bought some wine off a chapman ere we left Oslo. Methought 'twould serve well."

"So it has, so it has." Ulf hiccupped. "I'll be less happy t'morr'w, but tonight . . . stars, moon, aye, i's cold an' well I'd like t' get into a good warm woman."

"I know some in Oslo," said Gunnar.

"No." The marshal shook his head dolefully. "Back at home I'm good steady househol'er. One at a time. . . Got good wife. Sweet li'l woman once she's shouted at enough. No' th' man I use't' be. Time was when
...
I ramble. All women're alike, saving only one, see you. So why mus' a man ever be looking f'r a new one, she's but more o' th' same, an' yet t'night . . ."

He threw back his head and broke into bawdy song. The men nearby grinned and took it up. Soon the whole host was roaring it out.

Harald hunched in the saddle. He had taken off his chill ar
mor and donned a thick coat, but
still the winter struck at him. There was time. . . . His head lifted, defiantly. Before God, he was not yet old, he would still stand the world on its tail!

They had crossed the open ground and now entered the main forest. It gloomed about them, tangled brush and frost-glittery beech, a wall on either side. Stars flickered in the twigs, as if netted there. So narrow was the trail that just one at a time could pass. Harald's standard-bearers rode in front of him and behind, the leader carrying the bear flag of King Magnus. Its white folds glimmered like victory.

Ulf was wandering off on a long discourse. His words drifted faintly to Harald:
"...
see you, many ways t' buil' a ship, down south th' galleys
're clumsy, but they've a thought with decking o'er the whole of 'em. Woul'n' y' like t' row dry f'r once? An' warm—Hell take me, 's cold! No more in that jug, Gunnar? No? Well, well, I'd but have more o' headache t'morr'w. . . ."

The king smiled. A drowsy warmth rose inside him. Good it was to ride victorious with friends at his back.

He heard brushwood snap to the right, and started awake. The broken moonlight shuddered off steel. A man was leaping across the path—a tall man who bore a spear in one hand.

"Hoy!" shouted Harald, and snatched for his sword.

The tall man lifted the spear and hurled it. The king heard it smack in flesh; suddenly the point gleamed out of his foremost standard-bearer's back. The youth gave a scream as he fell from the saddle.

Ere Harald could draw blade, the tall man had seized Magnus' banner and was gone with it.

The Norse line jarred to a halt. Torches bobbed, throwing eyes and teeth out of night. "What is it, what happened? In Christ's name what's this latest ill?"

Harald drew a shaking breath. He felt the cold crackle around and through him.

"Give me my byrnie," he said. "The jarl lives."

VII

How Ellisif Was
Angry

1

In that part of the night which remained, the Norse stayed aboard their ships. By dawn the chill had deepened, and in the first light men saw that the river had frozen over again, this time so thickly that one could walk on the ice.

Magnus came sliding merrily down it, until he reached his father's craft; there he caught the stem and twirled to a halt. "What shall we do?" he asked.

The king glowered over the side. It was a gnawing in his soul that Haakon had escaped; he told himself it mattered not, the jarl's power was broken, but that was a frosty comfort. "We must chop a way clear," he said. "The Uplanders shall not enjoy their insolence a day longer than I can help."

"So be it. Whoo-oo!" Magnus skated back on his boot soles. His ship had been last to enter the river, and thus lay closest to the lake. He cried orders to the crew, and took a hand himself.

Though the air was searingly cold, it was a bright
morning, with blue shadows across an utter whiteness of snow and the ice ashimmer. The sound of axes and boat hooks made echoes bounce over the stream and back from the woods. Tired though they were from yesterday, the men worked fast, if only to keep warm; the cooks wavered across the ice with food and drink for them, and water swirled blackly in the holes they cut.

Erelong they were in sight of the lake. The ships behind Magnus' were using the channel, so that their men had less to do and came to help his. Last of all was the king's vessel. From it sprang a guardsman, Hall Otryggsson, who was renowned for his great deeds and stood high in Harald's favor. He fell to with a wild strength; the ax was blurred in his hand.

One of Magnus' crew stopped to watch, and said admiringly: "There you see it, as often before; no one can lay so much power where it's needed as Hall Kodhran's bane. See how it goes!"

A young man in the prince's following grew suddenly pale. This was Thormodh Eindridhason, who had but lately joined Magnus from the North country; it was his first taste of war, though he had already made himself a good friend of the king's son.

"Is that . . ." He gulped and asked through dry lips: "Is that indeed the Hall who slew Kodhran Gudhmundarson many years ago?"

"So it is; they had some quarrel. What of it?"

"Only this," whispered Thormodh, "that Kodhran was my mother's cousin. I was scarce a year old when he was killed, but
..."

Stumbling on the ice, he went over. Hall looked at him, puzzled, and Thormodh's ax came down. It split Hall's head to the jaws.

A bellow went up. Magnus came jumping from one loose floe to the next. "What is it?" he cried. "Have you gone mad, Thormodh?"

"No
..."
The youth crossed himself and stared at the corpse. Blood and brains steamed as they flowed out onto the ice. "I was but avenging my kin."

Magnus bit his lip. "Ill is this. The king will make short work of you if he gets his hands . . . No, I'll stand by you, my friend. Quickly, let's away!"

Silent, half stunned, his crew finished their task under his barked orders. They entered the ship, got oars, and pushed into the unfrozen lake. An east wind had come up, and Magnus had mast and sail raised. The light vessel surge
d ahead, westward over Lake Van
em.

It was some time before the others were clear. Harald's craft was the last one out. By then he had heard the tale, and wrath boiled in him.

"That he would dare! That the lout would dare murder my own guardsman! For this I'll hang him myself.
...
Set sail and after them!"

The king took the steering oar himself and nursed what speed his ship could make out of her. His face was stiff, but he gnawed his mustache and muttered to himself.

Thjodholf the skald ventured to speak: "This was a matter of blood feud, my lord."

"If Thormodh had a lawful complaint, he could have brought it before me and the Thing," said Harald. "There's been enough of men who think they are the law."

Only one man has that right? wondered the skald, but did not dare say it aloud.

The short day had worn thin when Harald's ships reached the agreed anchorage. He saw Magnus' beached there, and sprang ashore and stormed toward his son.

"Where is the murderer?" he snapped. "Bring him to me!"

The prince flinched, then gathered courage to look up into his father's eyes. "He is gone. I let him go free."

"You—!"

"He is my friend. I myself will pay the weregild and whatever fine you levy-."

Harald seized the boy's coat in both hands and shook him till his teeth rattled. "I want no monies, you cub! I want that rascal's life. Are you too in rebellion against me?"

Magnus wrenched free and clapped a hand on his sword hilt; rage darkened his cheeks and drove out fear. "Have a care, father," he said shakily. "I'm not one of your dogs."

"No—a dog keeps faith!" Harald lifted his arm and shouted through the winter dusk: "Hoy guardsmen! Come bind this puppy for judgment."

Magnus looked around; his crew, young men like himself, mustered heart and bristled behind him. "If anyone lays hands on me," said the prince, "he is a dead man."

"Then see if you dare fall on your own father!" Harald's blade whined out. Ulf and Eystein arrived. The marshal thrust his own body between the two. "What witch has been working here?" he cried. "Are you mad, that you make war on your own flesh?"

Magnus stuttered in his wrath; Harald cuffed at Ulf. "Stand aside or it'll be the worse for you. I am the king."

"Horse shit!" spat the marshal. "Take those tin swords, both of you, and cram them where they'll do the most good. Else I'll turn you brats over my knee and send you hungry to bed!"

Eystein spoke more soothingly, but his voice was not heard until the anger of father and son had bent toward Ulf. Meanwhile, Thjodholf threatened Styrkaar, who was ready to fall single-handed on Magnus' crew: "Hold back, you ruffian, or I'll spit you myself and eat you raw." The skald's sword was poised at the warrior's neck,

"Have done," begged Eystein. "In Christ's holy name, have done. Truly there must be witchcraft here; this quarrel can please none but our foes."

"Well . . ." Harald's blade drooped. "If we can lay hands on the murderer
...
if you will help in that task, Magnus
..."

"That I will not," said the prince, "but I offer again to pay the fines, also one for any insult I may have shown you. A man stands behind his friends."

"You call yourself a man?" growled Harald. He clashed his sword back into the sheath. "Well, then, so be it, if you give me self-doom. I warn you the fines will be heavy."

"I can afford that." Magnus drew breath and grinned with stiff lips. "A warrior grows wealthy following you."

Harald's mouth twitched, ever so faintly. He set the penalties, and
they were high, but men noted
that his humor was good that evening and that he looked on his son with pride.

2

Svein Estridhsson was holding court at Roskilde when word came that a shipful of Swedes had landed and were on their way to see him. The Danish king wondered at this, but had a feast readied.

It was late the next day when the party reached him. Svein sat at his ease in the high seat. The hard-won peace had lifted care from him, he could sleep of nights and was putting on flesh; but there were thin gray streaks in his hair, and sometimes he woke up whimpering. He was richly clad, in scarlet Southland hose, a silken Eastern blouse, a broidered Russian coat trimmed in ermine, velvet shoes, and gold on his arms and at his throat. The great men who sat below him were scarcely less colorful.

Firelight splashed red and yellow on the man who entered. He was a tall and strongly built warrior, with curly yellow hair and a well-trimmed mustache, a tilted nose and forthright gray eyes. Behind him came a young woman of exceeding fairness, four children about her skirts, and after her the Swedish crew. All were weary and sea-stained.

"So." King Svein tugged his short beard. "We meet again, Haakon Ivarsson."

"Aye, my lord." The jarl strode boldly up, but bowed as courtesy required. "It seems I must claim your friendship."

"Well . . . you saved my life and kingdom," said Svein. "Is this your wife and family? Come, sit beside me and we'll talk of it."

Haakon sighed and gulped down the cup of wine handed him. "Know you what has happened, my lord?"

"I heard somewhat of a battle between you and King Harald."