“That is true,” said Toke. “There is no harm in the girl. Her temper is no worse than yours was when Orm and I first met you in your father’s castle. But you tamed quickly, and I have never heard Orm regret his choice.”
“You talk nonsense, Toke,” said Ylva. “I was never tamed. We of Gorm’s blood do not tame; we are as we are, and shall be so even when we appear before the judgment throne of God Himself. But Orm killed Sigtrygg, you must remember, and gave me Almansur’s chain; and then I knew that he belonged to me, for no other man would have acted thus. But do not speak to me of taming.”
“That chain proved useful,” said Orm. “I do not think anyone can deny that. Perhaps we shall have another such for Ludmilla when we have returned home with the gold. You must now speak to the girl yourself, Olof; and then she shall be regarded as your betrothed. You shall be married to her as soon as we have returned from our voyage if you can get rid of your wives as easily as you claim to be able to.”
Olof said that such matters presented no difficulty in Finnveden; one merely paid one’s women well, and they went. This would take no time, and he saw no reason why the marriage should not take place before they started. But both Orm and Ylva opposed this suggestion, and at length he yielded.
So far all had gone well for Olof Summerbird in this business, even if he had not had matters entirely as he wished them to be. Ludmilla received his suggestion amiably, and they began at once to discuss their plans. It was evident that she was well satisfied with the prospect of becoming his wife, even if she afterwards confided in Oddny and Ylva that she felt that so great a chieftain might have come with his hands full of ornaments. She asked him if he was ill-tempered when he was drunk, and whether he was merrier in the mornings or the evenings; and she wished to know exactly how the two women looked of whose company he was depriving himself for her sake, as well as details concerning his house and cattle, the number of his slaves and serving-maids, and a precise account of all that he had in his coffers. To all these questions he returned satisfactory answers.
But when Father Willibald heard what was afoot, he was by no means pleased. For in their excitement it had not occurred to them that Olof Summerbird was not a Christian, and this fact greatly troubled Father Willibald. A Christian maiden, whom he had baptized with his own hand, could not, he said, be bestowed upon a heathen; and this marriage could only take place if Olof first allowed himself to be baptized. On this point there was now a sharp exchange of opinions among the women, for Asa sided with the priest, while Ylva and Ludmilla opposed him. At length Orm told them to stop arguing and close their mouths; their immediate concern, he said, was to plan the voyage, and they would have time enough to discuss this other matter later. If Olof was prepared to allow himself to be baptized, he said, all would be well; if not, he was to have the girl none the less.
“For she will have plenty of opportunities to convert him,” he said, “if she thinks it worth her while to try.”
Asa rebuked him sharply for this judgment; but Orm bade her think of Are and remember that his present condition was the work of Christian hands.
Father Willibald sat dejected in his chair. He said that since the thousandth year had passed without Christ appearing in the sky, people had shown less willingness to become converted. “If things continue the way they are going,” he added, “the Devil will triumph after all, and you will all become heathens again.”
But Orm bade him be cheerful and not think so ill of them all. “I am content with Christ,” he said, “and I hope He will remain content with me, even if I marry my daughter to the suitor who pleases me best. Much will have to happen before I abandon Him, for He has always helped me well.”
Toke said that this reminded him that he had news from Värend which would interest them all.
“You doubtless remember the priest Rainald,” he said, “the fellow who, for Christ’s sake, knocked old Styrkar down from the Stone. The old woman to whom he was given as a slave is now dead, and he is a free man and much admired and respected. He is still a priest, but no longer serves Christ. For he wearied of Him while he was the old woman’s slave, and now he curses everything that has to do with Him, and follows the old god Frey instead, and is amassing great wealth by his knowledge of witchcraft. All women obey him, whatever he commands them to do, and hold him to be the best priest there has ever been among the Virds. And I have heard it said that he has gathered a band of followers and has set himself up as a chieftain for vagabonds and outlaws.”
Father Willibald heard this news with horror. Hereafter, he said, he would no longer offer prayers for this man; he had never before heard of a Christian priest giving himself openly to the Devil.
Ylva thought that he had had good qualities, and that it was a pity that things had gone so ill with him. But Orm laughed.
“Let him and the Devil do as they please together,” he said. “We have more important matters to worry about.”
He was now no longer doubtful whether or not to voyage after the gold. Between them they decided that if they managed to buy a good ship down at the coast, they would sail at midsummer.
“Our hardest task will be to find a good crew,” said Orm. “We must have good sailors, who know the ways of ships, but there are few of them to be found here, inland, and it will be dangerous to hire men who are not known to us, with such a cargo as we hope to be bringing home. It might be wise to take but a few men, for then we shall have less money to pay out; but it might be wiser to take many, for we do not know what dangers await us.”
CHAPTER FIVE
HOW THEY SAILED TO THE GOTLAND VI
OLOF SUMMERBIRD rode home to make ready for the voyage and to hire men whom he knew in Halland to serve as crew, while Orm, Toke, and Harald Ormsson rode down to the coast in search of a ship. At the mouth of the river they found one for sale. The man who owned it was growing old and wanted to sell it in order to have a good inheritance to leave his daughters when he died. They examined it carefully and found it in good order. It carried twenty-four pairs of oars; ships of such a size were reckoned to be large, but Orm thought it could without harm have been bigger, and Toke agreed with him.
“For great chieftains will be sailing in it,” he said, “and thirty pairs of oars would not be too many for us.”
“When we come to the portage, which Olof Summerbird has told us of,” said Harald Ormsson, “we may be glad that it is no larger.”
“You are luckier even than I had supposed you to be, Orm,” said Toke, “for I see that wisdom does not reside in you only, but in your children also.”
“It is a bad thing when a man receives instruction from his son,” said Orm, “and it shall not happen in my house, so long as I retain my tongue and my good right arm. But in this instance I admit that the boy is right. This will be heavier work than when we dragged St. James’ bell.”
“We were young men then,” said Toke. “Now we are great chieftains and shall not need to touch the rope ourselves. The young men will strain at the harness, while we walk beside them with our thumbs in our belts, marveling at the paucity of their strength. But it may be that a ship such as this will be too big for them to manage.”
At length, after much bargaining, Orm bought the ship.
Around the mouth of the river, there lay great houses; and from these he bought malt, hogs, and oxen and arranged with the farmers that they should brew, butcher, and smoke his purchases, that the ship might be well provided with food and drink. He was astonished when he discovered how much all this was to cost him in silver; his astonishment became even greater when he sought to hire a number of young men from the houses for a year’s voyage; and he rode dejectedly home with the others, mumbling that this Bulgar gold would surely bring him into poverty and wretchedness.
“One thing I have learned,” said Harald Ormsson, “namely, that a man needs to have much silver before he can go in search of gold.”
“That is well said,” said Toke. “If you continue as you have
begun, you will, with experience, become as wise as your mother’s father was. The old ones used to say that from Odin’s bracelet a new bracelet used to issue every Wednesday, so that he came to have many; but that if he had not had the first, he would never have had any. Never set yourself up as a Viking if you have not plenty of silver; nor as a skin-trader, neither. That is my advice to you. Only poets can win wealth with empty hands; but then they must make better songs than other poets, and competition spoils the pleasures of composition.”
On their way home, they rode in to speak with Sone the Sharp-Sighted, for Orm had a request that he wished to make to him.
Sone’s house was large, with many rooms, and was everywhere full of his sons and their children. He himself, by this time, was immeasurably old and very frozen, and spent all his time sitting by the fire and mumbling to himself. Orm greeted him respectfully. After a few moments Sone recognized him, nodded amiably, asked him for news, and began to talk about his health. This was less good than it had been, but nothing to grumble about; and one good thing, he said, was that he still had his understanding left to him, in prime condition, so that it was still, as before, better than other men’s.
A crowd of his sons had come in to greet the visitors and listen to them. They were powerful men, and of all ages. When they heard their father speak of his understanding, they cried that the old man was talking nonsense; there was, they said, nothing left of his understanding, but only his tongue and chatter. Resenting this, Sone brandished his stick and quieted them.
“They are foolish boys,” he said to Orm. “They think that my understanding has been used up by begetting all of them, and that I have none left for myself. But that, as may easily be observed, is not the case; for little of it have they inherited from me. Sometimes it happens that I confuse their names, or forget one altogether, and that angers them, so that they talk ill of me. But the truth is that names are not a thing that it is important to remember.”
“I have come here partly to see you,” said Orm, “and partly to see your sons. I intend to sail forth shortly on a long voyage, to Gardarike, to claim an inheritance. I have already bought a ship. It may be that I shall need good fighting-men on this voyage. Now I have always heard your sons praised as bold men, and it therefore seemed to me that it would be a good thing if I could have some of them with me in my ship. I shall pay them honorably, and if all goes well, there may be silver to be shared out among such of us as survive the voyage.”
Sone became excited at this news. Better tidings he had not heard for many a day, he said, and he would be glad to send a flock of his sons to aid Orm. It was time that they went out into the world and learned wisdom and understanding. Besides which, he said, it would make things less crowded in the house.
“They are too many for me, now that I am old,” he said. “Take half of them with you, and it will be to the advantage of us both. Do not take the eldest ones, nor yet the youngest, but a half score of those between. They have never been in a ship, but will serve for fighting.”
Some of his sons were immediately willing to go; others pondered the matter and then agreed to come. They had heard tell how Orm had killed his two berserks, and thought him a chieftain after their liking. They conferred with Orm about the voyage late into the evening, and the end of it was that eleven of them agreed to come with him. They promised to be ready by midsummer, when Orm would come to collect them.
Toke thought this a good addition to their strength, for these men looked to him likely to render good service. Orm, too, was pleased, so that when they rode away on the following morning, his dejection had left him.
When they reached home, everyone came running out to meet them with sad news. Are was dead; his body had lately been fished up out of the river. Blackhair was the only person who had seen what had happened, and he had little to tell. He and Are had been sitting together fishing, and Are had been as usual, save that he had, once and then again, stroked Blackhair across his cheeks and hair. After a short while he had risen suddenly to his feet, made the sign of the cross thrice upon his breast, and had then strode forth into the river with bold steps until, reaching that part where the water was deepest, he had disappeared. He had not been seen again, and Blackhair had been unable to do anything to save him. It had been a long time before Rapp had found his body.
When the news of this had been brought to Asa, she had taken to her bed and prayed that she might die. Orm sat with her and comforted her as well as he could. Any man, he said, who had been treated as Are had been treated might be forgiven for wearying of life; and it was clear that he longed to escape from his wretchedness and seek peace with God, now that he had imparted to his kinsfolk his knowledge of the Bulgar gold.
“From God,” he said, “he will by now have received back his sight, his tongue, and his right hand; besides which, I doubt not, he has also found his son again. That is no small sum of things to win, and any wise man would have done the same.”
Asa agreed with his reasoning; none the less, she found his death a hard thing to endure, and it was three days before she was able to move about again. They buried Are beside the church, near the place where Father Willibald had interred the two heads that Östen of Öre had hewn from the holy men. Asa chose a place for herself next to Are, for she thought it would not be long before she would go to join him.
Toke now rode home to make preparations for the voyage, and shortly before midsummer he and Olof Summerbird arrived at Gröning with good men accompanying them. Olof had had much to do; he had given his two wives rich compensation and driven them out of his house, though one of them had been unwilling to go and had resisted stubbornly. There was, therefore, now no obstacle to his taking Ludmilla in honorable marriage, and when he appeared at Gröning he expressed his wish that the ceremony might be performed immediately. But Orm held to his decision, finding it foolish of Olof to think of marrying the girl before the voyage was completed.
“She is betrothed to you,” he said, “and with that you must rest satisfied. A newly married man is a poor comrade to have on a long voyage. We have shaken hands upon the bargain, and you must stand by our original agreement. First let us get the gold; then, when that is done, you shall have my daughter as reward for your good help. But it is, I think, nowhere customary to pay first and receive help afterwards.”
Olof Summerbird was a reasonable-minded man in all matters, and he could not deny that Orm had spoken wisely; he himself had no argument to advance but the great desire he felt for the girl, which was such that it was a source of merriment to them all. She could not come near him but his voice changed and he struggled hard for breath; he said himself that such a thing had never happened to him before. Ludmilla was as eager as he was that the marriage should take place as soon as possible, but knew that Orm was not to be persuaded from his original decision. Olof and she agreed, however, that there was no reason for them to be downhearted, seeing that they felt the same toward each other.
Before his departure Orm made careful plans to arrange how everything should be in the house during his absence. Rapp was to remain at home and be in charge of everything, though up to the last moment he grumbled in the hope that Orm might change his mind and allow him to go with the others. Orm saw to it that he had sufficient men left with him to do the work and protect the house. Ylva was to see to the house itself and all that went on inside it, and nothing important was to be done without her consent. Harald was to remain at home, for Orm was unwilling to risk his first-born on so dangerous a voyage, and Harald himself showed no particular desire to go; but Glad Ulf was allowed to come with them and, at length, Blackhair also, after he had besought Orm and Ylva with many prayers. The obstinacy of his desire to go drove Ylva more than once to weep tears of grief and rage. She asked him what he thought a thirteen-year-old boy could do in a company of full-grown fighting-men; but he said that if he was not permitted to sail in this ship, he would run away and join another, and Glad Ulf promised to take better care of Black
-hair than of himself. That, thought Blackhair, was not necessary; however, he promised always to be careful, though he said that he fully intended to do his worst to men who robbed honest people of their eyes, if he should happen to encounter any of them. He now had both a sword and a spear, and regarded himself as a fully-fledged warrior. Orm was pleased at the prospect of having him with him, though he did not allow Ylva to know this.
Father Willibald preached a great sermon about people going down to the sea in ships, and blessed them all with a lengthy blessing. Toke and Olof Summerbird and the heathen men they had brought with them sat and listened to the sermon with the others and agreed that they all felt hugely strengthened after the blessing. Many of them after the service went to the priest and, drawing their swords, asked for a blessing on them also.
When the time came for their departure, the women wept loudly, and among those who were going away there were not a few who felt grief. But most of them were glad at the prospect of adventure and promised to bring fine things home with them when they returned; and Orm felt well contented to be riding at the head of so proud a company.
They came to Sone the Sharp-Sighted to collect his sons, who speedily made themselves ready. The old man was sitting on a bench against the house wall, warming himself in the sun. He ordered his sons, the eleven who were leaving him, to come to him one by one, that he might bid them each farewell. They did so, and he gazed earnestly at them, mumbling their names and addressing each one correctly without exception. When the last of them had saluted him, he sat silent, staring straight before him; then a tremor ran through his limbs, and he laid his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. At this his sons shifted their feet and murmured uneasily: “Now he sees! He sees!” After a while he opened his eyes again and looked around with an absent expression, as though he had just awakened from a long sleep. Then he blinked, moistened his lips, nodded to his sons, and said that they might now start on their voyage.
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