Hrolf Kraki's Saga

by Poul Anderson

  Said Helgi, and his voice clanged: "My fosterfather behaves like this because he will not break his oath to King Frodhi. So he won't speak to us; but nonetheless he wants to help us."

  They closed in on the garth. A few dogs bayed. No man roused, nor did any stand watch. A shadow of looming trees swallowed Regin. The youths heard him speak aloud: "If I had great things to avenge on King Frodhi, I would burn this shaw." Thereupon he spurred his horse to a trot, rounded the main building and was gone from their sight.

  The boys halted. "Burn the holy shaw?" wondered Hroar. 'What can that mean?"

  Helgi seized his brother's arm. "Not the trees themselves. He wishes we'd set the hall afire—as near as may be to its door."

  "How can we do that, two mere lads, with such might against us?"

  "There's no help for it," Helgi snarled. "Sometime we must dare it, if ever we're to get revenge for the harm done us."

  Hroar stood a while until, slowly: "Yes. Right. Here we have men gathered who'll know we're the doers. If we make the first move, some of them will rally to us, for our father's sake and in hopes we'll deal better with them than Frodhi has. A chance like this may never come again."

  "Let's go, then!" Helgi laughed aloud. Eager or no, they moved thereafter with every trick of silence and concealment they had learned in hunting.

  And surely their hearts hammered thickly when they entered the hall itself.

  Stacked weapons gleamed in the foreroom. The chamber beyond was a blindness full of bitter smoke, heat, man-stench, noises of drunken slumber. Fire-trenches glowed dull red, but the pillar-gods upbearing the rafters were lost to sight.

  With unsteady fingers, the athelings took war-gear. Outside once more, they helped each other don padded undercoat and coif, noseguarded helmet, byrnie of ring-mail whose weight they felt only briefly, sword at waist and shield laid handy. What they chose did not fit them too ill, since Hroar was fifteen and Helgi, thirteen, big for his age.

  "Man's arms!" Helgi grew dizzy from gladness. "After three years like thralls—warriors!"

  "Hush," warned Hroar, though hope drove the winter out of him too.

  Most quietly, they flitted everything from the foreroom and laid it on the ground. Then they slipped into the main room. On hands and knees they went, fumbling a way among sprawled bodies. When someone stirred or mumbled, they froze. Yet a tide of sureness carried them. No boy really believes he can die.

  Groping along a trench, they found sticks not quite eaten away and plucked them forth. The light from these made them more sure of not kicking anybody awake. Helgi bore an extra one in his teeth.

  Under the stars, they straightened. They whipped the brands to flapping life. They reached high and put torch to low-sweeping eaves.

  At first these would not catch. Helgi muttered a stream of oaths. Hroar worked patiently, trying first this spot and then that.

  A flame stirred. It was tiny, pale blue, a bird of Surt newly hatched and frail. It trembled in the cold breeze, cowered down between two shakes, peeped a weak little song as if to keep up its own heart. But all the while it fed; and it grew; now strength flowed into it out of the wind; it stood forth boldly, flaunted bright feathers, looked around and crackled a greeting to the sisters it saw.

  The timber of the hall was old and weathered. Moss that chinked the cracks had gone dead-leaf dry. Pitch in the roof drank fire as once in its pine trees it drank a summer sun.

  Helgi took stance near the foredoor. "If they waken in there before this way is blocked," he said, "we'll have to keep them from boiling out." He scowled. "The well-house! Best you go kindle that end right off."

  "What of our mother?" Hroar fretted. In his thrill he had hitherto forgotten Queen Sigridh.

  "Oh, warriors always let women and children and thralls and such go free," said Helgi. "But—" He broke off and spun around. From the courtyard stole a band of armed men.

  At their head was Sævil. He turned to them and said: "Stoke up the fire and help these lads. You have no duty toward King Frodhi."

  They hastened to obey. Many already bore torches, the rest ranked themselves by the athelings. Helgi cheered. Hroar stuttered, "L-l-lord Jarl—"

  Sævil stroked his beard. "I think erelong you will be my lord ... Hrani," he murmured.

  “There's an escape through the wellhouse—“

  "Regin is taking care of that."

  The sheriff joined them. Firelight waxed till it skipped across metal and lured stern faces out of shadow. As yet, however, the burning was not far along. Neither noise nor heat aroused King Frodhi.

  He stirred in his shut-bed. One like that is built short, for its users sleep sitting up. The mattress rustled beneath him. "Ugh, ugh!" he choked. "It's close and black in here as a grave." He slid back the panel. A bloody glow crept over him from the trenches.

  Beside him, Sigridh asked, "What's the matter?"

  He sighed heavily before he cried: "Awake! Waken, my men! I've had a dream and it bodes no good."

  Much though they drank, his warriors had remembered to lie near him. The call brought them fast out of their rest. "What was it, lord?" asked a man. In murk and reek, he seemed to bear the shape of a troll.

  Frodhi snapped after air. "I'll tell you how it went. I dreamed I heard a shouting at us: 'Now are you come home, King, you and your men.' I heard an answer, and grim was the tone: 'What home is that?' Then the shout came so near me that I felt the breath of the one who shouted: 'Home to Hel, home to Hell' And I awoke."

  "O-o-oh," crooned Sigridh.

  The dogs indoors had not thus far marked, in their sleep, anything that seemed worth barking at. Now they also stirred, caught the first whiff of death, and set up a hubbub.

  Those outside heard. It was needful to lull fears until the trap was sprung tight. Frodhi had two smiths who were both good handworkers and both called Var, which means Wary. Regin boomed:

  "Outside it is Regin"—which could mean "raining"—

  "and also the king's sons,

  fiercest of foemen;

  say it to Frodhi.

  Wary wrought nails,

  Wary set the heads on,

  and for Wary did Wary

  forge wary nails."

  A guardsman grumbled, "What's this to make a verse about? That it's raining, or the king's smiths are at work, whatever they make—"

  Frodhi answered starkly: "Don't you see these are tidings? We'll find a different meaning, be sure of that. Regin swore an oath to me, and so he warns me of danger. But sly and and underhanded is that fellow."

  Most who thought about it afterward felt that Regin kept his word by thus saying that Hroar—a wary one— was wreaking a crookedness which Helgi—another wary one—put to work, while Regin—a third wary one—gave warning of this to a fourth wary one who was Frodhi himself. The sheriff had never promised not to give news in riddles too twisted for easy reading.

  Finding no rest, Frodhi rose a short time later. He threw a cloak over his nakedness and sought the fore-room. There he saw how the roof was ablaze, the weapons were gone, and armed men waited beyond. After an eyeblink he spoke steadily: "Who rules over this fire?"

  Helgi and Hroar stepped from the line. In their young faces was no ruth. "We do," said Hroar, "the sons of your brother Halfdan whom you slew."

  "What terms of peace do you want?" asked Frodhi. "It's an unseemly doing among us kinsmen, that one should seek the life of the other."

  Helgi spat. "None can have faith in you," he said. "Would you be less ready to betray us than you were our father? This night you pay."

  An ember fell upon Frodhi and scorched his hair. He walked back into the hall and shouted for everyone to make ready for battle.

  The guardsmen had neither mail nor shields nor any arm better than a knife. They fueled the longfires within for light and broke up furnishings for clubs and rams. Some of the guests helped them. The rest were too befuddled, and only stumbled about gibbering and getting in the way.

  In a rush together, as
nearly as the narrow doorways allowed, the king's men attacked. Most fell, speared or sliced or hewn down as they came. A handful, holding a bench between them, smashed through their foes and gained a clear space. Sævil's folk surrounded these. One was a berserker, a shaggy giant upon whom the madness had fallen. He howled, foamed, gnawed his club which was a high seat pillar, and dashed forth heedless of cuts and thrusts into his bare flesh. His weapon crashed on a helmet. It rang and crumpled; the man beneath dropped dead.

  Helgi broke from the line still guarding the door, and sped against the berserker. "No—.'" yelled Sævil and Regin together, aghast. The atheling heard them not. He took stance, feet apart, legs bent and tautened, shield decking his body from just below the eyes, sword slanted back past his shoulder. After three years of planks and sticks, it was as if these well-made things were alive. The club raged downward. He eased his right knee and thus swiftly moved that way. The blow smote merely the rim of his shield. That was enough to stagger him, and leave his left wrist sore for days afterward. But his blade was already moving. Across the top of the shield it whistled. Deeply it bit, into the berserker's neck. Blood spurted. He toppled. For a small time he flopped, struggling to rise. Then he went empty and lay there in a widening pool.

  Sævil hugged Helgi. "Your first man, your first man!" Regin hastened to the back of the hall.

  Frodhi had not been in that doomed charge. He took his wife by the arm. "Come," he said. "Maybe a way is still open." They ran to the wellhouse. At its outer doorway stood Regin's men and the sheriff himself.

  "We Skjoldungs are not a long-lived breed," said Frodhi, and returned.

  The last king's man died. The flames stood ever taller and ate their way ever further back along the roof. Walls caught. Heat hammered. The house thundered and flared. Helgi bawled in his uneven boy-voice: "Let women and servants, men who are friends to the sons of Halfdan, come forth. Quick, before too late!"

  They were not many. Most hirelings, thralls, and beggars had slept elsewhere and were gathered terrified at the uneasy edge of firelight. A few crept out, and rather more yeoman guests, those who had not unforgiveably worked on Frodhi's behalf. They babbled of how they had hoped for this wonderful day.

  "But where is my mother?" Hroar called.

  Sigridh came to the door. Pillars of flame stood on either side and above. "Hurry!" shouted Helgi. She stopped, cloak drawn tightly around the gown she had donned, and looked upon her sons.

  At last she said—they could barely hear her through the roaring—"Well have you wrought, Hroar and Helgi, and everything good do I wish for you in all of your life to come. But myself, I forsook one husband after he was dead. Ill would they speak of your mother, my darlings, did she forsake another husband while yet he lived." She raised a hand. "Upon you, my blessing." She walked back into the hall.

  The brothers shrieked and tried to follow. Men held them fast. The doorway crashed asunder. The roof began to fall in. Sparks drowned every star. The noise grew even greater. It smothered the weeping of Hroar and Helgi.

  III

  THE TALE OF THE BROTHERS

  I

  Jarl and sheriff took the athelings to Leidhra. There they called a Thing, and when men were gathered, they told what had happened. Standing on the high stone, the youths saw blades flash free, gleam aloft and bang upon shields, while the throng shouted to hail them its kings.

  They in their turn promised to abide by olden law, give justice, and restore the lands which Frodhi's gang had grabbed. They thanked their sister's husband Sævil for good help, and likewise Regin their fosterfather, and the men of these; and they handed out gifts to many, taken from the great hall and storehouses which now were theirs.

  Thence they traveled about Denmark with their two elders and a well-armed troop. In each shire they got themselves taken as lords.

  On the way, Hroar asked Helgi if he wished to split the rule between them, one in Zealand and one in Scania. Regin tugged his beard and said, "I'm not sure that would be wise, remembering what happened before."

  Helgi flushed. "Never will I bear a spear against my brother!" he said. "Well dwell together and share all things."

  This would be at Leidhra. Since Scania needed a trusty man in charge, they bade Sævil be theirs. He agreed, moved thither with Signy and their children, and lived long in peace. Often he and his brothers-in-law guested each other; but on the whole, he is now out of the saga.

  The new kings were very unlike. Hroar remained small, albeit quick and deft. He was soft-spoken, not given to more show than he must put on, mild, friendly, and deep-minded. Helgi, though, grew uncommonly tall and strong, until he was reckoned to be about the mightiest warrior in the land. He was gustily merry when not crossed, openhanded, one whose house folk made excuses to seek because they knew how the food and drink and mirth would flow. He either dressed as roughly as the meanest smallholder, or in the costliest furs and stuffs, a dragon's hoard of gold on his arms and about his neck. Against this can be set that he was headlong, short-tempered, unsparing of whoever thwarted his will, and too early restless when seated in council.

  Some men felt Hroar was like the father Halfdan and Helgi like the uncle Frodhi, and dreaded a breach. But it never came. The love between the brothers stayed unshakeable while they both lived.

  The first year they must keep moving, learning the ins and outs of their realm, binding its headmen to them. Thereafter was no reason to look for trouble from that quarter. Hroar settled down quietly to master the skills of kingship. Helgi trained himself in fighting and in the ways of the sea.

  This was to a good end. As soon as weather allowed next year, he led warriors forth. Bands of robbers and nests of vikings had always harassed the land, and gotten worse under Frodhi. Helgi scoured woods and waters, going in with fire and sword, ax and noose; yeomen blessed his name. At first he fared under the guidance of experienced leaders. By fall they admitted that he had no further call on them.

  He spent the winter in a cheery round of feasts, also in planning the summer's faring. That was a cruise along as much of Jutland, Fyn, and other islands as he could make, trading, fighting, and scouting out these lands against a later day.

  While Helgi was gone that year, Regin, now a jarl, came to Hroar. They went aside and spoke under four eyes, as the saying is. "I am unwell," the king's foster-father told him. "Ever oftener my heart pains me and flutters like a bird trying to escape a cage. It would gladden me if, before I go hence, I can lay one more strong timber to the house of the Skjoldungs."

  Hroar gripped his hand. Nothing else was needful between those two.

  He went on: "I've asked about, and sent men of mine to look. I think I've found you a wife, who'd not only bring a rich dower and stout friends. She'd be the right lady for you."

  "I've always done well to follow your redes," said Hroar low.

  She was Valthjona, daughter of Ægthjof, the chief jarl in Götaland and near kin to its king. Thus Hroar would gain spokesmen for himself in that realm between his own and the Yngling-led Swedes.

  There went more talk, with faring of messengers and gifts. Ere Yule, Valthjona reached Leidhra. She was a big, good-looking woman, firm at need but otherwise kindly, shrewd and steadfast She and Hroar dwelt together in happiness.

  Soon after the Hammer had hallowed them, Regin died. Folk called that great scathe. The kings gave him burial in a ship laden with costly goods, and raised a howe which reared high above the Isefjord, as if trying to see where old Vifil had laid his bones. Aasta did not long outlive her man. She too got a mound and farewell gifts from her fosterlings.

  Hroar said sadly, "Now we must lean on our own wisdom, such as it is."

  "If that fails," answered his brother, "we have our strength."

  "Our great-grandfather owned more might than we do, yet he went under." Hroar ran fingers through his thin new beard. They sat alone in a loftroom, with only a stone lamp to hold off night. The air was winter-bleak. "We're safer eastward than erstwhile, thanks to Reg
in. But few are our kinfolk westward across the Great Belt"

  "Are you saying I should seek a wife of my own?"

  "Well, we'd better begin thinking about it"

  "H'm. I'm young for that" "Not as we Skjoldungs go."

  From time to time in the following months, Hroar brought the matter up. Helgi put him off, usually with a jest. This was not because of shyness. Almost the first thing Helgi did when they came to Leidhra, after the slaying of Frodhi, was beckon a thrall girl to his bed. Since then, if he wasn't at sea, he seldom slept alone.

  "You're breeding sons who may well bring down the kingdom in grasping after it," Hroar scolded him.

  "Oh, I've not had to take one on my knee and give him a name," Helgi laughed. "I never keep a wench long enough. I send her back to work, or home with a gift if she's free-born, and that's that"

  "Still, you should have acknowledged children, not to speak of in-laws."

  "Let me be, will you?" And Helgi stalked from the house.

  He brooded, however, until in the end he decided to astonish the world by showing how he could steer his own affairs—and, at the same time, do a thing which would make him famous far beyond Denmark. Therefore he sent spies out in secret. Openly, he gathered ships and men, promising a cruise come summer which ought to win wealth.

  There was no dearth of younger sons glad to join him. After sowing season a big fleet rowed out of Haven.

  Hroar had spoken against this—"We've plenty of vikings and foemen close to home, without turning vikings ourselves"—but Helgi said, "Men won't stay willing to go beneath our banners unless we give them a chance at real booty," and would not be swayed.

  His ships went down the Sound, their avowed aim to harry the southern Baltic coasts. Then at Mon, camped ashore, he told his skippers that first they would turn west. After he broached his wish, a few said it was too reckless. But they were shouted down and soon gave in. Remember, these were young men. Helgi himself had but sixteen winters.

  II