The Norseman

by Jason Born

  When Serpent was fully stocked I found Kenna and asked her to walk in the village with me. I held her small hand in mine and we toured the many houses that had sprung up; so many that there were now streets between them. I was looking for something specific and we talked along the way. “Your Latin has become excellent,” Kenna complimented.

  “Thank you,” I said. “I read my book everyday and spoke the words out loud, pretending I was talking to you.” My book was now stowed on the ship, but it had spent the day in Kenna’s hands. She had poured over it and understood, I think, my passion for it. It was like we had our hands on each other, though at separate times. “How did you come to know Latin?” I asked. I wondered about it all year since our time writing the successful marriage proposal for Olaf.

  “Same as you, well almost the same, except it was the head mother of a nunnery,” she answered matter-of-factly. “I’m the youngest daughter and not the pretty sister so my mother thought I should join a convent for lack of a husband. I had, but Olaf and my family came here and my mother asked me to come take care of her and to watch Thordis.” She giggled as she said the last and added, “Thordis can be mischievous.” Her mother had so wanted Kenna back from the convent when they left Ireland that she had stolen the keys from her husband’s chest and bribed the nuns with silver to release her daughter.

  “Your father was a Christian before Olaf converted us?” the thought surprised me.

  “Oh no! My mother is Irish and was raised a Christian. My father cares more about adventure than what faith he or we profess.” We rounded a corner where men were gathered in a circle. Some of the faces looked angry and others looked ecstatic as money changed hands. Cnute wore a downtrodden expression while holding dice in his hands. People never changed. Cnute still gambled his wealth away and would, therefore, always be someone else’s man. Had I ever changed? We converted from the old gods, but were we any different from before? Olaf still killed and led men. I still killed for profit. Men didn’t change. On we ambled.

  “People say you speak other languages too. Do you?” I asked as I surveyed house after house in the row where we walked.

  “Yes, I do. Because of my mother, I speak Gaelic, of course. A group of the nuns in the convent were Franks and so I learned French from them.” She bit her thin lip a bit as she thought, “I never really added up the number of tongues I speak. I can speak Latin, Gaelic, Norse, and French. Oh, and Swedish and Danish too. As you know, the thralls in Dyflin came from all over the world and I took time to learn language from them.” She saw my stunned expression and added cheerfully, “I have a gift for language. You must too, because you learned Latin so quickly.”

  As she finished I held up my hand and gently said to Kenna, “I found it, please excuse me. I’ll be right back.” She stood in the street with a confused, but patient look on her face in the fading light of the day.

  I walked up to one of the houses on the street and knocked on the door. A small blonde-haired boy wearing boots several sizes too big opened the door. Inside his father sat at a table eating his evening dinner and called, “Who is it?”

  “It’s Halldorr Olefsson, Berserker to the King.” I said. I thought invoking the king would make the man more willing to interrupt his meal. He set down the meat he was eating and walked over to me, ducking his head through the door.

  “What is it you need?” he asked.

  “Who built your house?”

  “I did. Why do you care?”

  “Because I’d like to hire you to build one for me, for us really,” I said pointing back to Kenna who stood looking at the ground. “We‘ve looked at all the houses in the city and yours is the best constructed. I have to leave with the king tomorrow and so I won’t have time to build one this summer.”

  The man was quiet for a few moments, thinking over my offer. If he agreed, he would probably have to fit the construction into his summer plans of farming, hunting, and taking his turn on the wall. Another boy, this one younger than the first, toddled out and grabbed his father’s leg. He looked down at the boy, smiled, and picked his foot up. The boy laughed with joy as he rode the foot into the sky. He brought it down with a crash and the boy tipped off the foot rolling in the dirt. The little one whined and his older brother and father both laughed. Finally the man said, “What price do you offer?”

  “It will be worth your time and it will be in silver. We can discuss the amount in Olaf’s hall later tonight if you are willing to join me for ale.”

  He thought briefly then extended his hand, “I’m Aki Tree-Arm and I’ll gladly build you two a home.” We shook hands and I saw that he received his nickname in a straightforward manner. Aki’s forearms were the diameter of tree trunks.

  “Thank you. Come to Olaf’s hall tonight and we’ll drink, sing, and agree on the price.”

  We said goodbyes. He went into his house and I returned to Kenna.

  “I want to learn. Can you teach me?”

  “What do you mean?” Kenna asked.

  “Your languages, I want you to teach me your languages.”

  She smiled when she realized that I didn’t forget my place in our conversation, “Yes, absolutely. Olaf called you an enigma when he stood on the embankment – he was right. A warrior scribe. You may be the only one in the world.” We both giggled at the thought and finished our slow walk to the great hall. Olaf hosted a large banquet inside as the full round moon rose over the trees. We stood beside the hall listening to the singing and storytelling going on inside, unwilling to interrupt our time together. “Thank you for building us a home in which to live. Te amo.” I pulled Kenna close to me. She cuddled her hands to her breast and laid her head on my chest. After a several moments she softly pushed off, looked up in my eyes, and said, “Bra och rattvist drottning. Wise och bara. Olaf har forestallt din skonhet, men hans fantasia ar bevisad svag. That’s your first lesson in Swedish and you can say it to the queen when you meet her. It may go a long way in helping Olaf secure a marriage with Sigrid”

  “What did you just say?” I asked.

  “Good and fair queen. Wise and just. Olaf has imagined your beauty, but his imagination is proven weak.”

  I pulled her closer and said with a chuckle, “What if she is anything but beautiful?”

  Kenna spoke into my chest feigning exasperation, “Halldorr, she’s a queen. She’s beautiful, and if she’s not, you say she is.”

  I practiced, and butchered, the line several times with Kenna so I would recall it when the time was right. At last we entered the hall. I planted my feet just inside the door for a moment to survey the scene while Kenna walked to her family who sat assembled near one end of the hall. Thordis sat next to Einar with the baby nursing quietly on her breast. Thordis’s mother, Auda, was on her other side with their father, Meili, next to her. Kenna sprang on her mother’s lap and whispered something in her ear. When she was done speaking, both of the women looked up at me across the hall with wide smiles. I smiled back and Aki walked into the hall behind me. We greeted one another warmly then went to spend the evening drinking and eating with the men of Serpent and talking the business of building houses.

  The letter that arrived for Olaf in Kaupangen told us to go to King’s Rock in Gotaland and so we came ashore in the River Gota. Mounted soldiers from Sigrid’s guard greeted us with their unhappy faces to escort us inland to one of the queen’s summer residences. We were swiftly embarrassed for lack of horses so, through an interpreter, Olaf made several of the guides dismount to provide us with horses since he normally travelled everywhere by boat or foot. We never took horses with us as most armies did at the time; less room for plunder said Olaf on many occasions, though I am not sure if he intended to plunder his new bride’s realm. A particularly grim looking Swede had to surrender his courser to me. I climbed the stirrup to the saddle and marveled at the height of the horse. He was spirited and bobbed his head, turning to bite at his new master. Cnute and Einar received similar horses to mine from other well-outfitted
riders. Olaf was given the strongest destrier of the lot, tall and broad. His original rider was the Swede cavalry leader who now rode a short rouncey, but accepted this plight with a smile.

  We rode four abreast along a path through a forest of Birch trees. Olaf, the Swedish interpreter, the cavalry leader who was called Truls, and I were in the first row. Einar, Cnute, and two Swedes were in the second row. Several more rows of mounted Swedish cavalry followed. Those men who gave up horses stayed behind at our longboats with our crews and drank Olaf’s mead in an effort to alter their current negative disposition. Crevan stayed back with the boats, disappointed that he came all that way yet had to remain behind to mind Vigi. Through the interpreter Truls said, “We have a two or three hour ride until we arrive at the queen’s summer residence.”

  Olaf answered happily, “This gives us an opportunity to explore what will become a new part of the kingdom.” When the interpreter finished saying this to Truls his smile faded and we rode most of the way in silence. I used the quiet to pull out the small piece of parchment Kenna gave me when we left Norway. On it she had written the Swedish phrase I was to say to the queen to help Olaf win her favor. I mumbled the words as I rode on in my inexperienced way. More than once my horse raised its head, thinking of a way to lose me, but Truls always gave a low clicking sound which calmed the beast.

  The trees gave way to neatly laid out farms where workers toiled away for their queen. As we passed a field of wheat, that with one or two more rains would provide a healthy yield, Olaf said with admiration, “With this valley alone we could feed two or even three armies! A base here could rule the south Baltic as well Norway and Sweden.” He said it to no one in particular, but the interpreter still performed his duty. When the interpreter finished speaking, Truls’s expressionless face hardened, which Olaf ignored.

  At last we came to the queen’s residence. The hall sat on a rise amidst the wide valley. Rich farmland surrounded the hill and it looked like it had been an exceptional spring and summer for all the crops looked hearty. It was a hall of a similar fashion to Olaf’s own; it was made of wood and thatch, but larger than Olaf’s with wings jutting from each side at right angles to the main structure. Several outbuildings sat around the main hall for animals, soldiers and thralls. A pasture occupied one side of the hill and contained a variety of war and work horses lazily grazing. Men-at-arms practiced their sword craft along the path and paused to see the King of Norway ascend the hill on a familiar destrier. We knew him to be a fearless and cunning leader, but they, no doubt, looked at the soiled clothes covering his stocky frame with derision. I could tell by their faces that they ridiculed Olaf as we made our way past.

  A gaggle of young boys and thralls came out to take our reins when we halted outside the door to the central hall. Olaf dismounted and gave a broad smile as he surveyed the countryside around the hill. To me, Olaf raised his eyebrows in a roguish manner and then indicated to Truls we ought to enter. The cavalryman nodded and led the way through the short door. We all stooped slightly as we entered the residence in single file behind Truls. Like our halls, this one was dark inside and it took a few moments for our eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight outside. Any curtains which separated the rooms were pulled back revealing what I thought was an enormous space. A hearth burned brightly in the center, not for warmth, rather for light. Two thralls worked at the hearth cooking something in a large pot suspended from a stout chain hanging from the rafters. The floor was earth, brushed smooth. A temporary wooden platform had been assembled at the far end of the hall atop which sat a simple chair and an even plainer woman, the queen.

  Sigrid was talking with several women who looked like they were more of the house servants. They dutifully nodded now and then as she spoke without pause. She had a broad nose perched on the front of an unremarkable face. In the dim light I guessed her to be about thirty years old. On her head she wore a type of kerchief and I could not see the color of her hair. Her white dress hung to the floor, but her seated position allowed me to see just a small amount of her leather shoes poking from underneath. Like our women, she wore a tunic over the dress. It was blue and held at the top with twin brooches like those I had purchased for Freydis, though not as striking.

  Truls indicated we should wait by the door while he strode through the hall to his queen. Sigrid acted surprised when he put one foot on the platform and leaned in to whisper. As he spoke she looked across the room to us. She asked him a question and Truls pointed directly at Olaf while still speaking. Sigrid nodded, spoke something abruptly to the women, and Truls came back to fetch us. The women faded into the recesses of the hall.

  Truls led us with the interpreter to Sigrid. Olaf followed with Einar on the left and me on the right side. Cnute followed behind. Sigrid’s plain face betrayed no emotion. She held something in her lap and I then recognized the bag Olaf had sent to her carrying the giant gold ring from the Ladir temple. I looked to Olaf out of the corner of my eye and he, too, had his gaze fixed on the bag. Truls moved to one side and allowed us to approach the platform. Once we were at its end we three Berserkers bowed to one knee out of respect to the queen. Olaf remained standing but tipped his head in a respectful gesture. I peaked up to the queen and for the first time noticed Eirik and a man who could only be Sveinn, the sons of Haakon who fled when Olaf seized his crown, standing in the shadows behind Sigrid. They wore twin disdainful scowls. Sveinn’s was directed at Olaf, but Eirik’s was shot straight at me, for I had sent an arrow into his brother that day on the beach. I returned his gaze and when I was sure no one else was looking, gave him a wink. That startled him and I barely contained my laughter.

  Olaf opened his mouth to greet Sigrid, but she beat him to it and said, “Olaf, King. Thank you for coming in peace to Sweden. If not for your poetic letter, you would have been greeted by the sharp end of my men’s spears because of that insult.” When she finished her greeting, she tossed the bag contemptuously onto the floor at Olaf’s feet. I expected it to land with a single heavy thud, but instead it clattered noisily. Both Eirik and Sveinn smiled smugly.

  I was proud of Olaf’s response. He said nothing, which was disrespectful to the queen. He only nudged my leg with his foot for me to retrieve the bag lying on the hard dirt. I snatched the bag and stood next to Olaf, holding it open. He reached inside and pulled out the golden ring, but it was cut in two semicircles. I panicked when I saw the reason for her anger. The core of the ring was made of copper and was merely plated with gold. My fright caused me to blurt out my well-rehearsed line, “Bra och rattvist drottning. Wise och bara. Olaf har forestallt din skonhet, men hans fantasia ar bevisad svag.” Einar looked horrified that I broke accepted behavior by speaking then, Olaf just looked surprised, and Sigrid looked confused and then a smile curled her lips. Finally, a genuine laugh broke forth from her plain face. Olaf soon joined her and they were both laughing at my expense. That wasn’t what the line was supposed to produce, but at least they were sharing in the experience.

  As their laughter trickled off to giggles and snickers, Olaf spoke through the interpreter, “Queen Sigrid. Thank you for complimenting my letter to you. The ring was not to be a slight. I was led to believe by the unscrupulous father of these two boys,” Olaf pointed in turn to Eirik and Sveinn, “that the ring was solid gold. What may I asked caused you to cut the ring?”

  She considered his answer for the insult and it was to her satisfaction for her face softened and she said, “King, it is an interesting story. I have two smiths who work for me, they are brothers and prone to argue. I had them take the ring one day to hold it for me. Truls, whom you have met, overheard them arguing again, but this time about the ring. I summoned the brother smiths and one told me that he could tell when he carried it that it was not solid gold metal. The other said it was. I grew tired of their bickering so had them cut it on the spot. You can see that it was not solid gold.” She paused her story and giggled at the thought of what came next, “I gave the smith who knew his business,
a pound of silver. His idiot brother, I sent him away to work in some unnamed icy town in northern Sweden.” Sigrid turned in her seat to face the Haakonsson brothers and said with some mockery, “You boys should leave now. Your presence seems to be causing a breakdown in trust between our two kingdoms.”

  Eirik and Sveinn looked like angry, whipped dogs, but said politely, “Yes Lady Sigrid,” and left the room into one of the wings.

  When they were gone, Sigrid stood and led us all to a broad table. We found our places, our mail clanking as we sat on long benches. The kitchen thralls served a soup in earthenware bowls and ale in silver cups. Olaf removed the soft leather gloves he had worn for riding and tucked them into his belt. The royals sat across from each other making pleasant conversation. At first they talked about the favorable weather in the spring. Then they discussed some of Olaf’s interesting past. Things he remembered from his enslavement, how he escaped, and his first hunt all piqued her interest. Sigrid listened intently and showed great interest when our raids on England came up. She was visibly surprised that we had fought at Maldon. It seems Forkbeard spread news to Sweden that he led the assault on his own with a force consisting of only Danes. She was also surprised when she discovered that we brought no horses and in a sign of good favor, immediately offered Truls’s horse and the others as gifts. Olaf accepted the gift and promised that he would give her gold worth twice as much as what he originally thought the ring was worth.