by Jason Born
Sudreyjar was an island in a chain of islands off the northwest coast of Scotland. It was remote and allowed me to ignore most of the world around me. There were times when I looked across the sea to Scotland and thought about Fife. I never learned where in Scotland he was from, but the sight of the land made him spring back to life in my mind. I missed his stubbornness and his amazing counting. How did he do that? Usually this started a stream of thoughts. My dear friend Magnus – he came all the way from Greenland with us, only to fall at Maldon. Charging Boar. Freydis. Freydis and our nights in frigid Greenland. Erik, my second father. Olef, my father who was dead. Olaf my third father.
Olaf was now a Christian, which meant I had become a Christian. I was told to give up the old gods and I did. I still spoke to Thor privately on occasion, but had taken off the hammer amulet I started wearing after Maldon. The amulet now sat in my trunk with the Christian stories carved on its surface. Olaf’s conversion occurred last year and was intertwined with our adventures.
Last year, just three years after he approached us about reclaiming the Danelaw, Sweyn, returned to Dyflin with the same proposal. This time, however, he would not accept anything other than an attack directly on London so that he would be King of England at the end of our operation. Olaf accepted with the understanding he would again command. He was willing to go along with the proposal despite Sweyn’s behavior at Maldon because, after all, Olaf had become richer and more powerful after the famous battle. The thought of expanding both his wealth and clout with another successful campaign was too enticing to miss.
He went to Maldon with sixty ships under his command. He went to London last year with eighty ships. Sweyn contributed another fourteen ships to make the total ninety-four. I remember the number because I counted them in honor of Fife. It took me considerably longer than his count outside Kales.
On the way to London for the invasion, our Norse armada travelled south in the Irish Sea and stopped at the Scilly Islands as we rounded the southwest corner of Wessex. Olaf still worshiped the old gods at that time, but learned of a seer on the island and wanted to hear his fortune. He sent me to pose as himself to test the seer’s ability. The soothsayer saw through the charade and was not fooled, sending me away as an imposter. Olaf became convinced of the man’s talent and so went to see him, dragging me along as well.
I stood back in the fortune teller’s desolate hut while Olaf said, “You sent this man away as an imposter. Can you see now? Am I the real Olaf?”
The seer sat back and scratched his heavily whiskered chin. I could see his blackened teeth as he tugged his lips open. His one, good eye focused on Olaf while the other looked as if it had been torn away in some ancient battle. After pondering the question for a time he answered, “You are he.”
“Good. You’re right. What is my future?” asked Olaf.
The seer didn’t hesitate this time, “We have to establish a fee first. I know you understand profit and commerce. What will you pay?”
Olaf answered him just as quickly, “It depends on the fortune you give me. If it is satisfactory you’ll be paid well. If it is unpleasant you’ll likely be paid in steel.” He said the last with a tap of his sword.
The fortune teller gave a loud swallow and said, “Lord, the fortune will be what the fortune will be. I cannot change your destiny by a wish to avoid your blade. Would you still like to hear your future?”
Olaf liked what he heard. “Seer, you are genuine. I like that. Most people, when threatened by a warlord, tell me what I want to hear.” He tipped his head back toward me and said, “This man doesn’t. He speaks his mind. That’s why he is still around. You’ll be well paid in silver coin, whether my fortune is good or bad.”
The seer nodded and led us to the back of his dirt-floored hut and indicated for us to sit on the ground. He sat cross-legged opposite us and took some chicken bones out of a worn wooden box next to him. The seer dropped them on the ground between him and Olaf then drew a circle with his finger in the dirt around the bones. The man next reached into another box, this one well cared for, complete with a hinged lid. He pulled a Christian cross from the box and stabbed it into the ground among the bones. Finally, he closed his eye and prayed silently for a time. Olaf stared at the man’s scrunched face while I idly looked around the hovel.
With his one eye still closed he said, “You will become a celebrated king and perform legendary deeds. You will bring many men to the faith, the true Christian faith, and baptize them.” His eye remained closed. Olaf and I exchanged glances. This did not sound at all possible because Olaf still followed our mighty gods of Odin, Thor, and the rest from the god-realm of Asgard. Not the weeping Christian God. Olaf opened his mouth to protest but before he could utter a sound the seer continued, “Because you doubt the answer, I will give you these tokens so that you may know its truth. When you come to your camp among your ships and your men, you will be ambushed by mutineers. A short battle will rage, many of your men will fall, and you will be severely wounded – almost to death. Your near-lifeless body will be carried to your own ship upon a shield. Nonetheless, in seven days you will awaken completely healed and you will immediately let yourself be baptized.”
Olaf openly scoffed at the seer who now held out his hand for payment. The warlord stood and strode out of the hut without dropping so much as a coin in the man’s hand. The fortune teller turned to me with his extended hand and said, “Halldorr, your lord owes me payment. I know he doesn’t believe his fortune but it is and will be so.” I rolled my eyes and pulled several coins from my pocket and set them in his hand. As quick as lightning and with surprising force he snatched my wrist with his other hand, pulling me close to his face. I looked into his one eye while smelling his fetid breath. He hissed, “Halldorr, I did not finish his fortune for him, but will for you because of your good faith in making the payment. He will be king, but for only a short time. His deeds will be legendary, but will return to him. His days as king will be numbered.”
I wrenched my wrist free and stood up. He was just a swindler who was angry that Olaf had skipped his payment. As I crossed his threshold to the outside he called, “Halldorr, you will survive. You will see your father again. You will see love again.” I stopped in my tracks and spun around. Seeing my confused look he continued from his cross-legged position on the floor, “Halldorr, I know you forsake women for the love of one who rejected you. You will survive to love again.”
At this I stepped back into the hut and sat with the seer. We talked for many minutes. How he knew my name and my past I do not understand. The future he gave me was one of pain, revenge, death, and yet it still contained the hope of love. When we finished speaking I paid him again and walked slowly and circuitously back to where our Norse armada rested in order to reflect on my new-found knowledge.
There were bodies everywhere. At least twenty men lay dead on the shingle. I knew some by their faces but none by name, as Olaf’s army had grown so large. The bodies had already been picked over as if they were beaten in battle by an enemy, but our own Norsemen stepped over the bodies, busying themselves with the duties of seafarers. I shouted to the nearest man, “What happened here!”
“Mutiny! These bastards killed Olaf to take his command and treasure, but we killed them instead. Leif Eriksson told us to leave the bodies of the traitors to rot in the summer sun; the bodies of men who fell defending Olaf were taken back to the Serpent with Olaf’s body.”
“Olaf is dead?” I said in wonder to no one but myself; another father gone. I ran in a panic to Serpent and saw at least sixty men on deck gathered around something. Many other men stood guard around the ship on the beach but they let me pass because I was known to them. Now onboard, I pushed my way through the throng until I came to Leif and a doctor crouched over Olaf’s bloodied body. His head had a large lump on it with a gory wound that had been cleaned. There was a small amount of blood on his arm.
“Father!” I shouted. The name just came out – I couldn’t help
it. I had felt more and more like he was my father since Maldon. Gytha had finally conceived in the year following our triumph in Essex, but both mother and child died in childbirth. Olaf was without a son and I felt that I had been banished from my second father to fill that void.
The doctor looked up at me confused and said, “Don’t worry, Halldorr. We won’t need any Christian priest or father. Olaf is too much of a warrior to be killed by those traitorous fiends.” So he wasn’t dead. I pushed the doctor to the side and knelt next to my fallen lord. His breathing was shallow, but steady. I placed my hand upon his chest and felt the heartbeat inside. It was a strong heart. My hand rested on his chest for a time, moving up and down with each breath. I wanted to give the man a hug, but thought better of it in front of the men. As I stirred to stand again, my knee hit something hard sticking out from underneath Olaf. I looked down and saw that he lay on a shield with his own blood pooled on top. The seer was correct! My heart leapt with joy. My third father would fully recover in seven days. Olaf would become a king and I would find the love of a woman.
After seven days Olaf awoke. As soon as I was done telling him what happened he marched off to the Benedictine Monastery on the island to find a monk or priest or anyone who would baptize him. After convincing the monks hidden behind the barred door that he meant no harm, he became so impatient to be baptized that he kneeled in the arched stone doorway while a monk baptized him with water from an old wooden cup.
The next day we embarked on the last leg of our journey to meet Forkbeard’s ships to sail up the Thames and lay siege to London. For weeks we encamped outside the city walls and made countless attempts to take the city. Olaf again counseled Sweyn to prudence and we withdrew to the countryside to sack and loot Essex, Kent, Sussex, and Hampshire. Aethelred, whom we came to call Aethelred the Unraed, which meant the poorly counseled, following his tribute of the Danegeld after Maldon, sent a priest to negotiate with us on his behalf. The priest was named Aelfheah and, I was told, held a position in the English church of some importance as the Archbishop of Canterbury. He was a sincerely devout man in the Christian faith. When he discovered the incredible story of Olaf’s conversion and baptism, he gladly offered to introduce him to Aethelred following the negotiation.
Once again Aethelred was poorly counseled and agreed to an even larger Danegeld paying sixteen thousand pounds of silver to be rid of us! Olaf rode to London with Aelfheah, the bishop, to personally receive the tribute from the king. As one of his captains, I and many others accompanied Olaf on the trip. Like the bishop, Aethelred was moved by Olaf’s conversion tale. They became fast friends and we spent several weeks in London as his guests. The king became Olaf’s sponsor in a confirmation of his baptism covenant performed by Aelfheah himself. In truth, I think Aethelred finally saw a way of limiting Olaf’s attack and plundering of his country, for he asked Olaf to consider that he should no longer attack fellow Christian kingdoms. Instead, he should spend his energies converting others to the true faith. Olaf wholeheartedly agreed and promised to never again come to England to make war. He further demanded that all of us be baptized as his first converts. So now I am a Christian and am no longer permitted to call the King of England Aethelred the Unraed because he is a friend to my lord.
Our armada sailed from Essex several days later with the Serpent heavily weighted with silver. Sweyn’s ships continued east to his capital of Roskilde, Denmark and we returned west to Dyflin. Entirely due to greed, Leif, Randulfr, and I restocked our ships and left for one more strandhogg, this time to Scotland, late in the season. However, an early winter storm blew in unexpectedly, taking us from our planned course and that is how we found ourselves in Sudreyjar. The lord of the island was a gracious Norseman and invited us to stay while the storm blew through. But Leif found Thorgunna’s bed so we stayed the entire winter.
Winter was over and the equinox had come and gone. It was time to return to our homes in Dyflin and return to our lord, my father, Olaf. Yet Leif loitered. He had drawn close to his bed companion and did not show his usual excitement for adventure when the seas calmed after the wind and snow. To my mind he had already fulfilled his destiny of leading men to greatness, to adventure, to victory so it was right that he would expect to find a good woman and make babies. Over the years since our exile it seemed he had continued to grow without pause. He was now as large as I remembered Erik, with enormous forearms and a broad, strong chest. He even began to let his red beard grow longer, resembling his father, my second father, more and more by the day. But, his temperament remained like that of Thjordhildr with intelligence and cunning.
My heart yearned for the excitement of the waves and the salty sea air. I had changed much since Greenland where all I wanted was to raise sheep, fish, hunt, and go to bed with Freydis. I had begun to crave exploits and raiding. Leif and I had argued four weeks after the equinox because he lingered. We came to no understanding and, out of frustration, I took a small crew on the Boar out into the sea to fish for several days. I drank ale with the men and we caught many fish. The diversion did much to improve my mood. With a hold full of fish and an extra ten pounds of ale around my waist we made our way back to Sudreyjar.
The Boar headed east toward the narrow channel separating the island chain from Scotland. Our sails were full of the wind and we flew across the sunlit sea. On the southern horizon I saw another sail appear on an intersecting course. We were lightly manned, so I wished for no conflict. It was important for us to make landfall before anyone came close enough to pirate our ship. I kicked Cnute, who lay passed out in an ale-induced haze at my feet by the rudder. He didn’t stir. I shrugged it off and hoped that the Boar had swiftness today. We had the wind gauge and perhaps I could make the turn north before the other ship caught us.
I kept my eye on the steadily growing sail while guiding the Boar. Then another sail showed on the horizon. Then five more sails showed on the horizon. I panicked and kicked Cnute harder this time. He rolled over and curled up under his brown cloak. Two of the men aboard seemed less drunk than the rest and I shouted to them to awaken the crew, such as it was. Ten new sails. By Thor I thought! Then remembered I was to be a Christian and so changed my curse to By Jesus! We would be lost today for another group of ships appeared, confirming this was a not a small raiding party but an entire fleet. The foremost ship was close now and I saw the men preparing for battle, hoisting their shields from the gunwale. I shouted louder at my drunken, skeleton crew hoping that would enliven them. My shout surprised just one, who tripped and fell from the deck into the hold with the fish. He remained there, passed out.
I couldn’t count all the ships dotting the sea. This would be a pathetic death. But I would fight with my saex in one hand and my sword in the other among my slumbering crew. Then my panic turned to joy. My winter of tedium had ended. I let go of the rudder and ran to a trunk, throwing open the lid. I rustled through the contents, grabbed a swath of fabric, and raised it up the mast. The men on the nearest ship saw the white banner bearing a serpent, flapping atop my ship, and cheered. They veered away from the Boar and continued on their path. In the distance I had seen the unmistakable sail of the Serpent. This meant Olaf sailed for glory and I was saved from the boredom of domestic life.
Olaf’s terrific fleet of over one hundred twenty ships tarried for two days on Sudreyjar as guests of Thorgunna’s father. Olaf was excited. His chance had come, the chance foretold by the seer. It was time to claim the throne of Norway. He had a legitimate claim for he was the great grandson of Harald Fairhair, who founded a united Norway. Olaf was already the most famous and most feared warlord in the North, the Baltic, and the Irish Seas. The exploits into England, combined with his other wanderings, likely made him the richest ruler anywhere. So when a messenger named Thorir came to Dyflin last fall after our crews had left, saying that Jarl Haakon, the current ruler of the Trondelag region of Norway, had fallen into extreme disfavor with the people, Olaf seized the chance and spent the winter planning his ascent
to the throne. According to Thorir, Jarl Haakon squandered any good will he had when he began claiming the right as effective king to take any man’s wife into his bed. He would take them, have his way with them, and then return them in a week after he grew tired.
Olaf also wanted to use the chance as king to bring more people to the true faith. His missionary zeal had increased over the winter and he now talked incessantly about it. In his mind he linked re-uniting Norway under one king with uniting the country under the One True God. On the second night Olaf called a private dinner with Leif; Randulfr, the level-headed commander of The Whale; and me. Also in attendance was Crevan, the man who had become Olaf’s personal priest. Crevan was an old Irishman who figured out how to survive in Dyflin among the Norse raiders and our many pagan gods, so I assumed he was shrewd. “We leave tomorrow and I want your ships to come with us. You’re all good men and even better fighters,” Olaf said.
In my mind there was not even a choice. Destiny and duty required me and my crew to go so I answered immediately, “Of course, lord, you’ll have Charging Boar and her crew.”
Crevan answered before Olaf had the chance, “You will be repaid handsomely in heavenly treasure, my son, for the masses you will help convert.” I remember thinking that I preferred treasure from the earth like gold and silver, but held my thoughts from the man who was a stranger to me.