TLV - 01 - The Golden Horn

by Poul Anderson

  Harald entered the hall, moving with careful arrogance. He had dressed richly for the meeting: fur-trimmed, gold-embroidered red coat, silken shirt, blue linen breeches with leggings of white leather, a good sword at his belt, golden rings on his wrists. Once only had he come to Jaroslav's court as a penniless beggar. That was fourteen years ago, when he was barely sixteen, but he had vowed it should never happen again.

  Svein Estridhsson rose to meet him. The Dane was tall, though well below Harald's seven feet, and rather thin. His long brown hair was carefully combed, but his short beard was scanty. He was still in his mid-twenties. His small blue eyes were set close by a big hooked nose, and his lips were full and red; but he was not bad-looking, nor did he seem unmanly. Indeed, he was known as a mighty drinker and lecher. He smiled with an astonishing charm and said: 'Welcome, Harald Sigurdharson! I have been eager for you to arrive. Perhaps my luck has turned, with so great an ally." He used the Northern tongue with a curious accent, a blend of the Danish, Swedish and English forms but clipped precisely, as if his books and monkish friends had taught him to speak with care.

  "We have made no agreement yet," said Harald curtly.

  "Well, God wilhng, we shall." Svein took his arm and led him to the high seat, where a graying, stately woman gave him a horn of ale. "My mother, Queen Estridh Sveinsdottir."

  Harald thought suddenly of his own mother. It was fifteen years since he had left her, and pride blazed in her eyes when she saw him go. He hoped she still lived; what a welcome he would get!

  Svein sat down beside him, and began talking of his travels. The Dane was eager to learn about Miklagardh; his mind darted squirrel-like to seize and store kernels of knowledge. Harald found it pleasant to converse with him, and began to see why so many men had set their lives at stake for Svein Estridhsson. The queen took part in their talk. It was against custom, but she was a strong sort and must have done much to hold her son to his ambitions.

  Svein gave the whole company a feast that night, and found town quarters for all. It was not till the next day that he began to lay his glowing schemes before Harald.

  "The Danes want me. They have shown it time and again. Once I have them, we can raise a mighty host to fight Magnus. I assure you, he'll not listen to reason; he must be compelled. He has the Norse chiefs with him, and you know what a headstrong lot they are. But the Danes have thrown out Norse kings erenow, and can do it again."

  Harald said little, but remained hidden behind an unstirring face and the one high-cocked eyebrow. "I must know more of how things stand," he replied.

  "Magnus has won three battles with you, and it boots naught to make war if we're but to be spitted on his spears. It may be I can reach some agreement with him which will satisfy all of us."

  "Well," said Svein sullenly, "I cannot stop you, but it's trouble wasted." He remembered himself and broke into a smile. "Still, it's most Christian of you to try for peace. Blessed are the peacemakers, as it says in Holy Writ. I shall not stand in your way, my friend."

  Harald decided that Svein was too smooth for his liking.

  2

  From inquiring of spies and travelers, Harald learned that King Magnus was lying to in the Sound. He had encamped on the Scanian beach to make sure Denmark was well in hand before going home. Leaving Ulf in charge of his men and of Elizabeth, the exile steered down the Swedish coast with Halldor and a picked crew in the long ship. She was a lovely craft, her hull painted red, her head and tail gilt, her sail of costly weave. She danced through the Baltic in a sun-sparked rush of waves, and the wind whistling across her entered Harald's soul. This was the life he had wished for, to stand with a lively ship under him and a band of rough Northern lads at his heel. He was not meant for prolonged intrigues with Svein or for hurt bafflement at his failure to make Ellisif glad.

  Rounding the southern capes, they entered a narrow strait where the land spread low on either side, Sealand to larboard and Scania to starboard. Scudding up the Sound, they raised a great fleet of warships lying at anchor, their complement of men decking the eastern shore with tents. Sunlight streaked through the clouds to glisten off weapons and chain mail; campfire smoke blew raggedly into the pale Northern sky.

  A small boat rowed out to hail them. It was like homecoming to hear the burred Throndish accent of the man in the bow: "Hoy, there! Who are you in the dragon, and what will you here? This is the camp of Magnus, King of Norway and Denmark."

  Something like tears stung Harald's eyes, but he recalled that Norse axes were sharp. His huge form advanced, he cupped hands around his mouth and shouted back: "I bring a message from the king's kinsman, Harald Sigurdharson, who has come back from the South and would know how Magnus intends to receive him."

  The boat returned to shore, and Harald waited a while till it came forth again with the answer: "King Magnus says he will make his uncle welcome and give him good guesting. This he swears."

  "Can we trust him?" muttered Halldor.

  "We must," said Harald. "I hear he's an honorable man." To the Thrond, he bawled, "Then stand by, because this is Harald Sigurdharson himself."

  They rowed slowly toward shore, until the keel grated on pebbled ground. A gangplank was laid, and Harald walked over it to the beach, where the king and his chiefs stood waiting with a big array of guards.

  "Be welcome, kinsman," said Magnus warmly, and took his hand. "This is a rare pleasure. You had become almost a story; I wondered if we should ever see you in the flesh."

  Harald looked down at him, narrowly. Magnus was twenty-one years old now, a slim strong youth of medium height, with a long, sharply cut face, fair skin, large blue eyes and soft yellow hair. Having little beard as yet, he went clean-shaven. His gaze was frank, and his friendliness seemed real enough.

  "I thank you," said Harald. He tried to be gracious, but it was hard. . . . This stripling stood between him and all his hopes. Before God, he had been buffeted about long enough, like a ship without an anchor; now it was time he came home! And he was not going to be any man's underling when he did. He'd had a bellyful of that down in Miklagardh and it had cost him dear.

  Magnus presented his leading men, of whom Einar Thambaskelfir was chief. This was a tall, stout man, hair and beard wolf-gray, eyes squinting in a hard blunt face. He was married to Bergljot, a daughter of Haakon Jarl the Great. Their son Eindridhi stood beside him, as tall as his father but more handsome though somewhat older than Harald. Both of them greeted him coolly.

  Magnus led the way to his own quarters, in a yeoman's garth, talking fast and with much cheer. "It's good to meet you again, uncle. There are too few Ynglings left. But honor enough to be won by all of them, I promise you. If we but stand together, there's naught we cannot overcome. ..."

  They feasted that night, and spent the next day trading memories. Magnus was as anxious as Svein had been to hear about Harald's southern adventures; he himself spoke freely of all that had happened, and of what he planned. "Both kingdoms to be united, don't you think? I can belike marry into the Danish royal family, and my son will inherit both thrones. We can conquer the Wends and make them Christian, thus ending their raids on us, and ..."

  "A fine idea," said Harald dryly, "but a few workaday questions remain. How shall you hold so large a realm together, when it can take days to sail from Nidharos to the Sound, after weeks spent raising a levy? It's not enough to lay a folk under the sword. They must be trained."

  "The people up here are a free race," said Magnus.

  "Aye, I've heard somewhat of this Gray Goose book of yours. Well enough for a single kingdom, perhaps, but what have you had in Denmark save one uprising after another? No, the whole house must be torn down and rebuilt."

  "Those are hard words," said Magnus.

  "This is a hard world," answered Harald.

  "You must remember, those southerners you dwelt with so long are not Northmen. Ride our folk too hard, and you'll be thrown. I found that out."

  "You went about it wrongly."

  "W
ell ..." Magnus changed the subject.

  They did not come to speaking of their own affairs till another day had gone by. Then Harald met Magnus in the hall, with the Norse chiefs present. He himself brought no one, but told Halldor to stand by ready for trouble, because it was plain that none of these leaders liked his way of thinking.

  He cleared his throat and began courteously: "You have been most kind to me, and I hope to repay you well. Nevertheless, I have my own case to bring forward."

  "Have you laid it before Svein Estridhsson?" asked Einar in a chill voice.

  Harald stiffened. This same man who had betrayed Olaf the Saint was now counseling Norway's king! He was doubtless faithful to Magnus, but he and his kind stood for a land divided, for a ruler who could not move without their yea. And so, remorselessly as a glacier grinding down a mountainside, in generations to come they would create a set of toy kings and civil war.

  Holding his temper back, Harald said evenly. "Yes, I met Svein in Sigtuna. He wished me to join him against you, but I felt sure an agreement could be reached."

  "Then what do you ask?" Magnus' tone was very low.

  "My right to the kingdom is as great as yours," said Harald. "Perhaps greater, for you were a child when I fought for Olaf, but we'll not speak of that. And you must understand how it is to be royal but landless, knowing that your sons will be exiles because you failed to claim their due for them. I do not wish to seem greedy, but half the kingdom is only my fair share."

  "You were the one who talked against divided rule," said Magnus with a glint of wry humor.

  "We can work together, I think," answered Harald, though inwardly he had his doubts. "It's not as if I offered you naught in return. I have good men and no small treasure. I have seen much of the world, fought in many battles, and can give you wise redes.

  It was in my mind to take your whole kingdom, but I would liefer be your friend."

  Magnus looked away, uneasy beneath the hard, thrusting words. "In such matters, I will be guided by my counselors," he said.

  Einar Thambaskelfir stood up, locking narrowed eyes with Harald. "It's no small thing you ask," he said, "but peace between us is best. Nevertheless, it's only just that if you have half the kingdom, Magnus should have half your wealth. These Danish wars have left him little gold."

  Harald bristled. "No!" he snapped. "I won that booty in harder battles than you know of, and it's for my own house."

  Hatred glittered in the chief's gaze. He spoke bleakly. "Far away you were, Harald, while we won this kingdom you claim so boldly back from the Knytlings. We have no wish to be split between rulers now when we've gained what is ours. So far we have served only one, and so it shall remain while Magnus lives."

  A rumble of agreement went among the other chiefs. "As for me," finished Einar in a flat tone, "I shall do all in my power to keep you from winning any part of the kingdom."

  Harald sprang to his feet, snatching at his sword. Einar lunged forward. Both checked themselves and stood breathing hard.

  "Magnus ..." Harald struggled for levelness. "Magnus, do you go in on this?"

  Misery looked back at him. "I will not act against my friends," said the king. "But surely we can reach some understanding."

  "You know what I want," said Harald.

  Magnus' anger leaped up. "Then you must take it!" he shouted.

  "I will," said Harald. He bowed ironically. "Until we meet again, kinsman."

  He stalked from the hall and down to his ship. Silently, the Norse army watched him leave.

  When they were rowing back down the Sound, Harald told Halldor what had occurred. "That was ill done of you," said the Icelander.

  "So I should knuckle under to that lout Thambaskelfir?" snarled Harald. "So I should meekly settle down to farm as my father did? No, by unholy Thor, I'm a king!"

  Halldor made no reply.

  Harald gnawed his wrath all the way back to Sigtuna. There had been too many years, too many hurts. He had seen Olaf fall, he had housed in a forest hovel, he had fled out of the land, he had served foreign kings with homesickness black in his heart, he had left the only woman he loved because he was powerless to take her with him. It was enough!

  When he docked, Elizabeth was there to meet him with Ulf and his own troops. "How went it?" she asked timidly.

  He gave her a hurried look. She seemed pale and tired. "Not well," he said. "I shall have to join with Svein after all."

  "Harald ..." She wet her lips and whispered in a rush: "Harald, my darling, be careful. We have too much to lose. I think I am with child."

  "Oh?" For a startled moment, he gazed down at her. "But that is wonderful," he said dutifully. "You must not weary yourself. Don't worry, all will be well—now I must hasten, I'll see you later." Rapidly, he strode down the wharf.

  She stared after him, till tears blurred the tall shape. Ulf heard the small gulp in her throat, and took her arm. "There," he said gently. "He has too much to think about. Be sure he's happy over it, but there's a kingdom to win for the child, isn't there?"

  "Yes"

  "Come back to the hall and lie down for a while." He guided her off the dock and toward their wagon.

  3

  Svein had been gathering a large host, Danish exiles and Swedish men. Tactfully, he said little about Harald's encounter with Magnus, but plunged him at once into the work of readying. By early summer, it was a good-sized fleet that stood out to sea and made for Denmark. Elizabeth was left behind in Sigtuna. Harald had not had much time with her but she wished him Godspeed with all the cheer she could muster. The slight form standing and waving on the dock was soon lost to sight.

  When the ships reached Sealand, Harald steered for the nearest hamlet, cut down the folk on the beaches who tried to stop him, and plundered and burned. Svein, coming later, reproached him in a shocked tone: "Is this the way to gain the good will of the Danes?"

  "They're pledged to Magnus," said Harald grimly. "Let them come over to us if they'd be spared."

  "But—"

  "I've no time to waste!" Harald roared him down. "This is the quickest way to get them back under you. If you mislike my ideas, we need not remain allied."

  Svein bit his lip and said nothing.

  Like a viking host, their men swept over the islands, fire and sword and bondage for those who fought against them. Valgardh the skald later put the story in verse:

  "The whole of Sealand, Harald,

  was harried by you;

  wolf packs fed upon the fallen;

  foemen did you slaughter.

  With many folk, you mighty,

  made you then your landfall;

  hot it was 'neath host-men's helms,

  and shields were sundered.

  "Brightly fire was burning

  buildings south of Roskilde;

  king's men down did cast

  the coal-swart, smoking houses;

  high the slain were heaped up,

  here no few found Doomsday;

  horror-stricken hid

  the hinds themselves in forests.

  "Still were many, stricken,

  who stayed behind made captive.

  When folk had taken flight,

  then fair young girls were captured;

  loaded down with links,

  they were led to where ships waited;

  links bit in the limbs

  of lovely Danish maidens."

  Halldor said to Harald, when they stood watching a garth blaze while weeping folk were hurried out under guard: "This is no way to fight . . . against women and harmless farmers."

  "You're too tender-hearted," said Harald roughly. "They can be ransomed, or set free when the country has yielded. If men are slain, well, they didn't have to stand against us."

  "Still . . . caught between you and Magnus, like ants between two millstones!"

  "That's true." Harald gripped Halldor's arm with bruising force. Teeth gleamed in his flame-splashed face. "Can you not understand? Can no one understand? This
is the only way to make sure that someday my own wife and children won't walk out in chains while the house burns behind them. It's the only way to make sure that the whole North is not overrun."

  Halldor regarded him gravely. "The world has wounded you," he said at length. "It's hurt you more than you perhaps know yourself. God be praised, I've not been so knocked about in my youth that now I must think all are my foes who are not my thralls."

  Harald spat an oath and went from him. They did not speak for some days.

  Through most of that summer, Harald and Svein made war in the islands. Where folk yielded to them, they gave peace, but elsewhere they fared ruthlessly. No outcry was raised. Thus did all men fight; the Danes themselves had looted and burned and killed where they went. Magnus had set the land afire, and all knew that the Normans in France were more cruel than this. Harald felt neither guilt nor pleasure. This was merely the road he must walk to reach his goal. Like Ulf, he slept with a number of Danish girls, who were not unwilling to try new men when they had an excuse, and feasted merrily after each victorious battle. His banner Landwaster, which Elizabeth had made for him, seemed to carry luck with it.