by Alan Gordon
“No one should be killing children,” said Magnus. He picked up his spear and went outside.
* * *
“Did you find that fool and the boy yet?” asked Fengi.
“Not yet,” said Gorm miserably. “So many people ran in so many directions last night that it was impossible to trace his tracks. I’ve sent patrols in every direction.”
“Good,” said Fengi. “His mother will be frantic if we don’t find him soon.”
“How did she take it?” asked Gorm.
Fengi snorted for a moment.
“She took it well enough,” he said. “Don’t worry about her.”
“But..” Gorm began in confusion.
“Fengi,” cried Gerutha, running out of the great hall. “I can’t find Amleth anywhere.”
“I know,” he said, taking her hands in his. “We’re looking for him. I’ve sent patrols out in every direction.”
“Why isn’t he here?” she demanded. “How could you let him slip out like that?”
“Now, my dear, the boy is understandably upset,” he said, leading her back into the hall.
Gorm watched them in astonishment.
“Doesn’t seem to be mourning much, does she?” said Lars, his captain.
“They are all whores, no matter how fancy the trappings,” spat Gorm. “Each and every one of them.”
He stormed off.
“Amen, and thank God for it,” said Lars, and the soldiers laughed.
* * *
Alfhild sat watching the wet nurse feed her brother. She was hungry. In all of the morning’s excitement, no one had bothered to feed her. She didn’t know what was going on. When she woke up at dawn, she heard noises from the upper room. That wasn’t unusual. She was used to hearing Ørvendil and Gerutha making those noises. But although she recognized Gerutha’s noises, the man was different. She crept upstairs just as that brother of Ørvendil’s opened the door while throwing his cloak on. They looked at each other in surprise.
“So, you are the one I heard coming up,” he said, kneeling to face her.
She nodded.
“You’re a pretty little thing,” he said, patting her head. “You look like your mother.”
She nodded again, her thumb in her mouth. Behind him, she could see Gerutha asleep.
“Where’s Ørvendil?” she asked.
“He’s not here anymore,” said Fengi. “I am.”
“Oh,” she said, and went back downstairs.
Now, she sat by her brother, who didn’t even know enough to know that things were different. Through the window she could see the soldiers running more than they usually did. She realized that she hadn’t seen Amleth this morning. Or Yorick. They could explain things to her, especially Yorick. It was strange for them to be out this early in the morning, but maybe they had gone fishing. She decided to go out and wait for their return.
She cut through the great hall. Gerutha and Fengi were in there. Gerutha was yelling something about an agreement, something about Amleth being missing. Fengi kept nodding. She wondered why Ørvendil wasn’t there. Maybe he was out looking for Amleth. That’s what fathers were supposed to do when children got lost.
There was a commotion by the gate as she came out of the great hall. She went over to a corner by one of the barracks and watched. Soldiers on horses were dragging in somebody in a net. When the horses halted, the person in the net rolled a few feet, then tried to stand up. A soldier went over to the man in the net and kicked him hard. The man fell down.
Her father walked up to the man, his sword in his hand, looking very angry. He was angry a lot, ever since her mother died. She had often tried to comfort him, but every time she hugged him or sat in his lap, he would push her away and say mean, horrible things. She wondered what the man in the net had done to make her father so angry. He was kicking the man in the net, too. She had never seen him do that to anyone. She inched closer, then with a small shriek saw that the man in the net was Yorick.
“Where is he?” shouted Gorm. “Talk.”
“My dear Appollonius,” gasped Terence, struggling to his feet. “For so many years, you have begged me to shut up. Now that I finally have, you want me to speak. Make up your mind for once.”
“Tell me where Amleth is, or I will rip out your tongue,” said Gorm.
“A counterproductive measure, don’t you think?” replied Terence, then he spat blood as the drosts fist crashed into his jaw. “I had no idea how much you enjoyed this sort of thing.”
“I will put myself into the very ecstasy of torture if you don’t tell me where to find the boy.”
“I speak only to Ørvendil’s brother,” said Terence. “Not his brother’s fool.”
Gorm turned nearly purple and raised his sword. Before she even knew what she was doing, Alfhild ran forward.
“Don’t hurt him!” she screamed, clinging to her father.
He looked down at her, then back at the fool.
“Have you turned even my daughter against me?” said Gorm.
“She lacks your capacity for betrayal,” replied Terence. “She is trying to save you from yourself, Signor Appollonius. Listen to her.”
Gorm felt his rage draining, replaced by a dull weariness. He sheathed his sword.
“Get the Duke,” he said. One of his men went running.
“Oh, was there an election?” asked Terence innocently. “I missed that part. Must have been right after the murder.”
“Father?” said Alfhild, still hanging on to Gorm’s leg.
He pried her off, then handed her to Lars.
“Take her back to my quarters,” he ordered. “Wait with her there. I don’t want her to see any more of this.”
Lars led Alfhild away.
“Judas had no family, as I recall,” said Terence pleasantly. “That must have made things easier for him.”
“hou’re making things easier for me every time you open your mouth,” said Gorm.
Fengi came out and stood in front of Terence.
“Well?” he said.
“Where’s Gerutha?” asked Terence. “Is she alive?”
“See for yourself,” said Fengi, beckoning for her to come out.
She walked forward, looking at Terence with hatred.
“Where is Amleth, Fool?” she asked.
Terence looked at her, then at Fengi.
“Milady, I am glad to see you well,” he said, managing to bow despite the net. “My condolences on your loss.”
“Where is my son?” she screamed.
“Alive and safe,” replied Terence. “I take care of my own.”
“Tell us where he is, Fool,” said Fengi.
“Not until I know that he will live,” said Terence.
“And if I have the information tortured out of you?” asked Fengi.
“I will die first,” replied Terence. “Amleth will be on his way out of the country before you get anything out of me. The arrangements have already been made. Only I can stop them.”
“He’s bluffing,” said Gorm.
Fengi walked around the fool, examining him. Terence ignored him, even when Fengi put a sword to his neck.
“Speak, Fool,” he said.
“Whose sword is that?” asked Terence, “”four brother broke yours last night. You have taken everything else that belonged to him. Is that his as well?”
Fengi grabbed Terence’s neck.
“What do you want? Money?” he said.
“I want your oath in front of everyone here that you will guarantee Amleth’s life,” shouted Terence. “Nothing else.”
Fengi stepped back and swung the sword with all of his might. Gerutha screamed, and every man present flinched.
Except for Terence, who stood calmly as the net separated around him.
“A good trick,” he said. “Ym missed your calling. You should have been an entertainer.”
Fengi walked back to Gerutha and took her hand.
“To assure an easy transition, I have agreed to
take my brother’s widow to wife,” he said.
“Given the family alliances that she brings to the table, a powerful match,” said Terence.
“Do you really think that I would let any harm come to her son?” asked Fengi.
“Did you love your mother?” asked Terence. “For you killed her son last night. I take little stock in blood ties in this part of the world.”
“But you would trust my oath?” asked Fengi.
Terence spread his arms and indicated the soldiers surrounding them. “I trust the soldiers,” said Terence. “Make your oath to them, and they shall be honor bound to enforce it.”
There was a murmur of approval at this.
“Very well,” said Fengi. He stuck the sword in the ground and knelt before it. “I swear on the honor of all the soldiers present that I shall guarantee the life of Amleth, or my own blood be forfeit by their swords. Will that suffice?”
“It will,” said Terence. “Now, get me a fast horse.”
“Where is the boy?” asked Fengi, rising to his feet.
“I will return with him,” said Terence. “But I am weary. I need a horse, and I want no one to follow me. Is that understood?”
“Give him a horse,” commanded Fengi, and a soldier took Terence by the arm and led him away.
“When he returns with the boy, I want the fool’s throat slit,” said Fengi to Gorm.
“No,” said Gerutha. The other two looked at her. “Amleth has lost his father, and will take our alliance ill. If he loses Terence as well right now, it may destroy him. I can’t let that happen. Let him have this fool until he’s older. Then do what you want.”
Fengi bowed slightly.
“I am your servant in this as in every matter,” he said.
* * *
Alfhild sat on her pallet while Lars made funny faces at her. She was too distracted to laugh at him. She had not only made her father angry, she had made him tired. She had seen him when he was tired like that before, and it never boded well.
Lars stood as he heard Gorm’s footsteps approaching the door. The drost entered, nodded at his captain, and sat down on a bench opposite his daughter.
“That will be all, Captain,” he said.
Lars left, winking at Alfhild. Gorm looked at his daughter, his eyes sunk deep into their sockets, his expression bleak.
“You are still young,” he said. “You must learn this, and learn this now. Never disobey me. Never disrespect me. Never dishonor me. If you ever do anything like that again, I will make sure that no man ever looks at you again. Do you understand me, daughter?”
She nodded.
“Good,” he said. “Now, come here.”
She got up and ran forward, arms extended. As she reached him, he slapped her once across the face. She stumbled and fell, crying. He left her there and went to wait for Amleth’s return.
* * *
Terence galloped along the river road, bouncing awkwardly on the saddle. He wasn’t used to riding, and the horse sensed it, taking every opportunity to pull against the reins and go its own way. By the time he reached Magnus’s farm, it was past noon.
Magnus was tending his vegetable gardens near the house, an innocent activity that allowed him to keep a sturdy spade handy. His spear was leaning against the front of the house. He nodded with relief when he saw that the rider was Terence.
“Everything is well?” he asked. Then he got a closer look at the fool’s face, the bruises clearly visible under the remains of his whiteface. “Everything is not well,” said Terence. “But Amleth will be safe.”
“What about you?” asked Magnus.
“Who knows?” replied the fool. “It doesn’t matter much what happens to me. Where’s Amleth?”
“Hiding in the barn,” said Magnus. “Come, I will take you there.” The barn was a few hundred paces back from the road, a simple wooden structure with a thatched roof. There was hay piled into the rafters, and it was there that they found Amleth, burrowed into the deepest part of it. He cried out with joy when he saw Terence and swung down into the fool’s arms.
“I thought I would never see you again,” he said, hugging him tightly. “No fear of that,” said Terence cheerfully. “It takes more than a mere army to slow me down.”
“Is my mother alive?” asked the boy.
“She is.”
“And is she all right?”
Terence hesitated. “Yes,” he said. “A little too all right.”
“What is it?” stammered Amleth. “What’s wrong?”
Terence put him down, then sat next to him.
“Amleth, there is no easy way to tell you this,” he said. “Your mother has agreed to marry Fengi.”
Amleth turned pale.
“But she can’t,” he whispered. “She is married to father. She can’t marry anyone else.”
“I’m sorry,” said Terence.
The boy sat next to Terence in silence. Slowly, his body sagged against that of the fool, but he did not weep.
“Take me to England,” he said suddenly.
“What?”
“Take me to England. I’ll learn how to be a fool. I’ll be your son. He looked forlornly up at the fool. “I can’t go back there. Not now.” Terence looked at the boy, and thought his heart would break.
“I cannot,” he said softly. “I have to go back to Slesvig.”
“But why?” wailed the boy.
“I have my reasons,” said Terence.
“My uncle will be there?” asked Amleth.
“Yes.”
The boy fingered the sword at his waist.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Gerald found Valdemar in much the same position as when he had left him, and in much the same mood.
“Ready to be cheered up yet?” asked the fool.
“Where have you been?” responded the King. “No one has seen you for days.”
“I am surprised anyone even took notice of my absence,” said Gerald. “I count for so little around here.”
“Well?” said Valdemar.
“I have been to Slesvig,” said Gerald. “You have to stop Fengi.”
“What do you know about it?” demanded Valdemar.
“Enough to know that you are making a grievous mistake,” said Gerald. “Ørvendil is loyal to you.”
“Not according to his drost,” said Valdemar.
“His drost has been deceived or corrupted,” said Gerald. “Fengi has had a spy in Slesvig for months. I suspect that he is the one working on the drosts sympathies.”
“You suspect,” said the King mockingly. “Everyone tells me to suspect everyone else but them. It is a miracle that I can govern the household thralls, much less the entire kingdom, given the reputed disloyalty of men who have served me for years.”
“I am one of them,” Gerald reminded him.
“But you don’t serve me,” said Valdemar. “You are like some cat who has taken up residence, and wanders in and out as he pleases. Very entertaining creatures, cats, but no one ever thinks them loyal.”
“Cats are good at catching rats,” said Gerald. “That’s why most people keep them around.”
“And you say that Fengi is a rat, to continue the metaphor,” said Valdemar.
“Yes,” said Gerald.
“I say that you are wrong!” shouted Valdemar. “Get out of here, Fool. I have depended upon you too much. I should have remembered my history. There have been kings in Denmark before me who were deceived by mimes and jugglers. Find some other household to amuse. Worm your way in, build up your favor, then turn on someone else. I don’t need your help ruling my kingdom.”
“Very good, sire,” said Gerald, bowing stiffly. “Should you ever require my services, you know where to find me. But I urge you to reconsider your actions as to Ørvendil.”
“I considered them carefully before I made them,” said Valdemar. “What’s done is done. Leave me, Fool.”
The fool left.
<
br /> * * *
Terence and Amleth rode into Slesvig, the boy sitting behind the fool. They ignored the stares of the curious, the sympathetic, and the hostile as they passed, the fool fixing his gaze on the road ahead, the boy watching the river flow by on the right. When the island fortress came into sight, the fool slowed the horse down to a walk.
“Your safety depends upon your mother,” he said quietly, feeling Amleth tense behind him. “I suggest that you humor her for now, and keep your head down. I will protect you as much as I can, but I don’t know how much I can protect myself anymore.”
“Then I will protect you,” said Amleth. “As much as I can.”
“I accept,” said Terence, smiling wryly. “And no matter what, keep up the juggling. It helps concentrate the mind.”
They turned onto the drawbridge and rode into the fortress. Gerutha rushed forward and hauled him off the horse, embracing him and covering his face with kisses.
“I thought I might never see you again,” she said, sobbing.
“I know,” said Amleth. “I’m back, mother.”
“Did he tell you?” she asked. “I must marry Fengi.”
“Must you?” he asked.
Terence, getting down from the horse, winced at the boy’s tone, but Gerutha either did not notice it or chose to disregard it.
“I am doing it to protect you,” she whispered. “You will become Fengi’s son and heir this way. He is going to be a great man, even greater than he is today.”
Amleth suddenly pushed himself away from her, his face seething with hatred.
“You!” he shouted, pointing at his uncle who stood watching from the entrance to the great hall. “You killed my father.”
“Yes,” said Fengi. “I had to. He challenged me. I wish that there had been some other way.”
Amleth drew his sword and faced his uncle, who watched him with barely concealed amusement. Terence leaned over and plucked it from his hand.
“Your father taught you better than that,” he said to the boy. “You cannot kill him, and you should not be prepared to die so young.” He stuck the boy’s sword back in its sheath.
Amleth looked around him. Everywhere there were adults looking down at him, betraying him. He bit down hard on his lower lip to keep himself from bursting into tears and ran toward the rear of the island.