The prince nodded. His head was bare, the yellow locks aflutter, and his reply could scarce be heard above the deep noise of waves: "Yes. King Harald fell at Stamford Bridge, and nigh all our men beside him."
"Oh God ..." The queen's fingers strained against each other.
"I was not there," said Olaf. "Would I had been, but— He fell in battle; it was a quick death."
Ingigerdh wept, but her mother seemed too far from the world. She said tonelessly: "Ever I knew it would end thus. Someday he would leave me and not come back. But I knew not how hollow our lives would be afterward."
She stood another moment. "Did Eystein Thorbergsson fall?" she asked.
"Yes," said Olaf.
"God's ways are strange," said Elizabeth. "Maria is dead too." Olaf stood numbly.
"It was a ... I know not what. A sudden fever, where she lay calling on Eystein, and in two days she was gone." Elizabeth bowed her head. "Thy will be done."
"Come," said Olaf. "Let us to the hall."
"Have you your father's body with you?" asked the queen.
"No." Olaf stood with his hands empty at his sides. "The English king gave him Christian burial, and I thought ..."
"We must fetch it when we can," said Elizabeth. "He would want to lie in Norway."
She shook her head, dazedly. "I still cannot believe it. There was too much life in him for this."
The wind howled out over the sea.
Olaf and his folk remained in Orkney during the winter, where the Thorbergssons guested them well. The prince grew in size and strength; it was said there had never been so handsome a chief. He was mild of manner, short-spoken in daily life and at the Things, though cheerful among close friends. His intention was to build peaceable trade at home, and not to embark on foreign wars. Folk called him Olaf the Yeoman, or the Quiet, but did not lack respect for him.
Late in the year came word that Harold Godwinsson was dead and the Normans ruled England. In the spring Queen Elizabeth sent ships down to greet King William and ask for Harald Sigurdharson's bones. This was readily granted, and the Fafnir bore back the coffin. The queen watched over it for the first night, alone.
Thereafter the Norse steered home, to land at Nidharos where Magnus met them. Thora Thorbergsdottir was not present, and when her sons sat privately in a small room, by a sputtering birch-log fire, Olaf asked about her.
Magnus shook his head gloomily. "It is not well with our mother," he said. "When no word came for so long, she grew more and more wild, and at last sent a ship through winter seas to find what had happened. It was not heard from again, and she sent another, wasting her wealth to hire sailors. They brought the news, and since then she has been grieving and drinking overly much."
"I'll seek her out," said Olaf.
Magnus regarded his brother for a while, then asked: "What are your plans?"
"I want to share the kingship with you," said Olaf calmly.
The older youth jerked in his chair. "Are you mad?" he cried. "Father had me named king when ..."
"I know you too well, Magnus," said Olaf. "You have too much of our father in you. Stripped and poor our land is, after this last faring; but you would plunge us into war and finish us. You need another hand on the reins, and I . . . have followers."
"We will talk of this later," said Magnus harshly.
Olaf left him and went to see Thora. The tall red woman sat listlessly weaving in the ladies' bower. She dismissed the servant maids and bade him sit. Her face was haggard, and a half-empty wine flask stood beside her.
"Long is it since we met," said the prince.
"Yes, I know I should have greeted you," answered Thora dully. "But naught seems worth doing anymore."
"You're not old," he said. "Forty winters . . . you have half your life before you."
"A barren life," she said. Her hands curved into claws. "Had I been there! I would have torn out Godwinsson's eyes and flung them to the ravens."
"He was a valiant and gentle man."
"Aye, you men are free to praise each other and drink in good fellowship after a battle. But what of the women whose men never come back? What of them?"
"Ellisif takes this more bravely than you," said Olaf, hoping to sting his mother into quiet.
She nodded bitterly. "I would have known it. She has her God and her one fat daughter left. But you two are grown from me, and I have naught." She turned her face away. "Go. Let me be."
3
Olaf was hailed king with Magnus at the fall Thing. They ruled together, bickering less than might have been expected.
Great was the glee of Svein Estridhsson when he learned his old ogre was dead. He said the peace between Norway and Denmark was over, since it had been sworn only for so long as both he and King Harald were alive; and in both lands a great host was called up the following year. Magnus was eager to fight, but Olaf thought the realm could hardly stand it and sent messengers to Denmark urging peace. His word was that the Norsemen did not wish war, but were it forced on them they would teach their foes sorrow. The end was that Svein met the young kings in a friendly way and swore to a renewal of the treaty. This was confirmed by Olaf's taking in marriage Ingiridh Sveinsdottir, a clever and good-looking maiden.
In 1069 three of Svein's sons brought a large fleet to England, where Edgar Atheling, Earl Waltheof, and others met them. The Northumbrian folk welcomed them joyously, rising against the hard Norman rule, and they captured York. But William came up, drove them away, and made such havoc in the shires that northern England was empty of people for many years. Svein decided ruefully that God had not meant for him to be a warrior, and thereafter sat quiet at home.
The same year Magnus Haraldsson took sick and died. He had been a well-loved king, and was mourned by the folk. Thereafter Olaf reigned alone. About this time, Ingigerdh Haraldsdottir wed the Danish prince Olaf Sveinsson, who became king years later.
Queen Elizabeth remained in the North only long enough to be sure her daughter had made a good marriage and to see her first grandchild. Then she returned to Kiev, where despite the troubles in the land her kin received her well. She took the veil, and rose to be abbess of the cloister Jaroslav had built in the city.
* * *
One day in the summer, anno Domini 1088, a troop of men came riding through the streets of Kiev to Russia's lone convent. They drew rein before the walls, and their leader dismounted. In broken Russian he asked if he might see the abbess, and after some scurrying this was granted him. They were not overly strict about the rules here, Christendom being new and the sisters helping with a hospital and other charitable works.
He walked through the courtyard, a tall stout man of weather-roughened countenance and dark reddish beard; in the crook of his arm he bore a helmet, but had left his ax outside. Folk looked timidly at him, not only the nuns but the poor who had found refuge among them. Into the main building he came, and bowed clumsily before the woman who sat there. She was old and thin, but her back was straight and her lined face still good to watch.
"God bless you," she said. "What would you with me?"
"I . . ." The man cleared his throat and said in Norse: "I hight Jon Ulfsson, my lady, from Throndheim. I came hither on a trading voyage, and having heard that Queen Ellisif lived here, thought to greet her."
The abbess leaned forward. Her frail hands tightened on the arms of the chair. "Not the son of Ulf Marshal?" she asked. The Northern language came slowly from her tongue, unused for many years.
"The same, my lady."
"Then do be seated. . . No, no, come, let us walk in the garden." The nuns had never seen their superior thus shaken; and by an outland heretic at that!
Roses bloomed in neat rows between ivied walls. A sleepy hum of bees filled the sunlight. Man and woman went side by side down graveled paths.
"It's peaceful," said Jon.
"Yes. This has not been an ill life, helping and healing where we could, guiding as well as we are able, and ..." Elizabeth looked at the ground. "
It was my thought that such prayers as I offer might carry more weight."
"I came through Denmark, reverend lady," said Jon. "Your daughter fares well."
The coiffed head nodded. "Thanks be to God. I get letters from her now and then. But how goes it with you?"
"Not badly. I have lands and children and gold enough. These are good times, easy times."
"As if after a storm," said Elizabeth. "The world is never so still as when wind and lightning have passed by. . . But tell me of others I once knew. I heard that King Svein died some years ago. But what of Thora Thorbergsdottir, who was queen with me?"
Jon gave her a sharp look, but could find no malice; it seemed the friendliest of tones. Surely this woman had made her peace with the whole world.
"She married a sheriff in Sogn, one Hallkell Bjarnarson," he said. "A man much younger than she. From what I hear, she leads him a devilish life."
Elizabeth bowed her head. "God help her," she murmured. "It cannot be easy for her, who once had the greatest of men."
After a moment: "And how fares the land itself? Often have I remembered Norway."
Jon shook his head, puzzled. "I cannot understand everything that is happening," he said. "King Olaf steers well, and is a merry man with his friends and concubines; but he brings in much that is strange."
"How so?"
"Oh . . . well, he founded a town at Bergen, you may have heard, and all the towns have waxed greatly. Now the tradesfolk are forming guilds and becoming a power in their own right. The halls must be spread with rushes both summer and winter; and the high seat is at one end instead of in the middle; and they build hearths with chimneys rather than fire pits down on the floor; and the rich folk must have glass in their windows. The king's court is twice as big as ever erenow, and their dress runs wild—tight hose, long puffy sleeves, high-heeled shoes. Priests swarm over the land, and churches rise on every side. ..." Jon coughed. "I meant no disrespect, my lady. But I was brought up in the old ways, and these outland customs jar me."
Elizabeth smiled. "I think it is not the looks of your country that disturb," she answered. "It is another spirit."
"Aye," said Jon eagerly. "You make it clear for me. Time was when the North was herself. Now we become like all the rest. I like it not."
"God sends much which none of us like," Elizabeth told him. "The old North died at Stamford Bridge. Would you have your sons live in dead men's ways?"
They walked mutely for a while. The sky stood huge over the low green land.
Jon looked at the woman beside him. She seemed as remote and inhumanly serene as one of her mosaic saints. He found it hard to believe his father had cared for her.
But who could know what the dead had thought? They were down in dust, mold in their mouths and darkness on their eyes; they would not speak again.
"Can I do aught for you, my lady?" he asked. "I could bring you whatever you need."
"No. I thank you, Jon, but unless you wish to give to the poor we have enough here." Elizabeth met his eyes. "You bear somewhat of Ulf in you," she said. "Your folk will be strong, in this or any age."
Somehow that made him flush like a boy.
"God has been good to me," said Elizabeth. "He gave me what shall not be forgotten; and then He spared me throughout these later years, to do what a mortal can for my love's salvation."
Briefly, the calm broke in her, and Jon looked away. "But if he had lived!" she whispered.
After a silence, the Norseman said awkwardly: "Best I go, reverend lady. My men await me."
"Yes. You were good to come. God bless you."
Jon was unsure of the proper usage, but kissed her hand. She smiled after him as he left, and stood listening till the hoofbeats faded into stillness.
Table of Contents
Dedication
Contents
The Golden horn
Contents
FOREWORD
Early Kings of Norway
Epigraph
Prologue Of Olaf the Stout and his KinOver the land came a troop of men riding. They were the guards of Norway's king, and he was on his way to see his mother.
Chapter I: How They Fought at Stiklastadh
Chapter II: How They Fared to Miklagardh
Chapter III: Of Kings in Miklagardh
Chapter IV: How Three Made Merry
Chapter V: Of Harald and Gyrgi
Chapter VI: How Gyrgi Was Angered
Chapter VII: How Harald Was Betrothed
Chapter VIII: How Emperor Michael Went to his Weird
Chapter IX: How the Caulker Reigned
Chapter X: How Zoe Was Ungrateful
Chapter XI: How Harald Was Imprisoned
Chapter XII: Of Maria Skleraina
Chapter XIII: How Harald Was Wedded
Chapter XIV: Of Magnus the Good and Svein Estridharson
Chapter XV: How Harald Came Home
Chapter XVI: How Svein Was Angry
The Road of the Sea Horse
Contents
FOREWORD
Epigraph
Chapter I: Of Kings in Norway
Chapter II: How King Magnus Went to his Weird
Chapter III: Of Thora Thorbergsdottir
Chapter IV: How Anchors Were Dropped
Chapter V: How Harald Reigned
Chapter VI: How Svein Was Clever
Chapter VII: Of Einar Thambaskelfir
Chapter VIII: How Haakon Ivarsson Went Wooing
Chapter IX: How Anger Spoke
Chapter X: How Kalf Was Rewarded
Chapter XI: How Haakon Ivarsson Came Home
Chapter XII: Of Earl Godwin and His Sons
Chapter XIII: How Gunnar Geiroddsson Fared to Nidharos
Chapter XIV: How Harald Sailed North
The Sign of the Raven
Contents
FOREWORD
Epigraph
Chapter I: How a Ship Was Launched
Chapter II: How They Fought at the River Niss
Chapter III: How a War Was Lost
Chapter IV: Of Haakon Ivarsson
Chapter V: How Peace Was Made
Chapter VI: How They Fought in Sweden
Chapter VII: How Ellisif Was Angry
Chapter VIII: Of Harold Godwinsson and Tosti
Chapter IX: How St. Michael Drew His Sword
Chapter X: How Ulf Uspaksson Fared Alone
Chapter XI: How the Host Was Gathered
Chapter XII: How They Fared to Orkney
Chapter XIII: Of Kings in England
Chapter XIV: How They Fought at Stamford Bridge
Epilogue Of Olaf the Quiet
The Last Viking Page 59