Towards the evening I was summoned to join Hakon and Jarl Sigurd in the great hall. A look-out had brought the news that a small number of people were approaching on foot. They were some of the Jarl’s household who had taken refuge in the hide-out. My mother and my children were not among them. Also missing were Toki and Jarl Sigurd’s young wife. They had been taken hostage by a group of about fifteen warriors and we were told to expect a messenger from them the next day. I tried to think what my mother would have done in this situation. In my memory she had always remained calm which had reassured the household. I tried to do the same. I supervised the preparation of our evening meal and sat in my mother’s seat while we ate. The only thing I didn’t do was to lead them in Christian prayer. I no longer felt it necessary to keep up the pretence.
The messenger from the hostage-takers was spotted by one of the guards. The King sent for me. I was brought into the Jarl’s private room. He and the King were seated at a table and a stool was brought for me. A rising tide of voices from the hall announced the arrival of the messenger. The heavy drapery separating the Jarl’s room from the main hall was pulled aside. Toki entered supported by one of the housekarls. He limped badly, his tunic was blood-stained and his cloak torn. When he struggled to kneel in front of the King he was offered a seat. He shook his head and instead knelt with downcast eyes.
‘My Lords I have failed you. Your families are at the mercy of the chieftain formerly known as Jarl Olaf and his brother Helgi. I have been sent to tell you their demands.’
The Jarl went up to him and helped him to his feet.
‘Your wounds speak for you. There is no shame in your defeat.’
‘Who are they?’ asked the King. ‘The ships carried the banners of some minor chieftains from Orkney. Are they with the treacherous marauder holding the hostages?’
‘No, none that I know, some of their men perhaps.’
I had fought to stay quiet but now the question uppermost in my mind broke out.
‘My children, my mother, are they hurt?’ Toki shook his head.
‘No, they are unharmed. All the hostages are unharmed,’ he added with a look at the Jarl who nodded.
The King glanced at me and I sat back and managed to remain silent for the rest of the talk. The chieftains wanted parley. The Jarl would speak to them but King Hakon was furious with the one called Olaf. He had once sworn allegiance to Hakon but, after an armed rebellion, had fled the country.
‘We must find them and kill them. I don’t parley with traitors.’
I had heard him say those words once before. He said it to my father before he beheaded him. I closed my eyes, gritted my teeth and reminded myself how I had decided to restore my father’s honour.
‘Impossible,’ said the Jarl. ‘They know the country too well. They will have gone into the mountains, they will keep on the move and they will have look-outs. It’s better they all leave. If they escape into the Upplands they can cause mischief among the chieftains there. If they join up with the crews that escaped after the battle we can expect another attack. Better they go to the other side of the sea. And we must think of the safety of the hostages. I want my wife back.’
They argued some more but the Jarl was determined and, when he offered to pay the ransom himself, the King gave in. Toki went to take the reply to the hostage-takers and horses to enable them to travel to the meeting place. I decided I had to find a way to accompany the King to the parley.
26.
The parley took place the next day. I waited on my horse by the gates. Hakon looked displeased but couldn’t, in front of everyone, send me away after all the praise yesterday.
‘Remember, niece, you are a witness not party to these talks.’ I nodded and followed him and Jarl Sigurd as they rode out onto the plains before Lade.
Rain hung like curtains from the sky and I got soaked while we sat on our horses waiting for the hostage-takers. At the appointed time three horsemen emerged out of the mists. They stopped while still out of range of bows and arrows. King Hakon and Jarl Sigurd rode to meet them. I followed but took care to stay behind the two lords. The Jarl opened the talks:
‘So you’ve had enough of fighting warriors, Olaf. You’re scared of men and prefer to fight women and children. Will that bring you the praise and reputation you crave? The world will laugh when they hear that the cowardly piece of dog-shit called Olaf Biornson runs from the battle to fight with old women and babes in arms?’
I tensed in my saddle and almost cried out. How could he say such things? At such an insult surely the chieftain would either draw a concealed weapon and attack the Jarl or ride away and send us the severed heads of his hostages. But he gave a loud, braying laugh and stayed sitting on his horse, rain dripping from his wet clothes. Then Hakon spoke:
‘Olaf Biornson, oath-breaker and traitor, trying to buy your miserable life with the lives of women and children. Return your captives or be cursed by the Lord God and his son Jesus Christ for all eternity’
The chieftain bent forward and spat on the ground.
‘That’s what I think of your god Hakon Haraldson, usurper and traitor to the Old Religion. And as for the toothless old mongrel at your side, tell him I shall enjoy his woman tonight. She is already looking forward to the feel of a real man.’
The Jarl retaliated with a sneer: ‘We shall catch up with you and your mangy crew long before that and, by the time we’re finished with you, my dogs will be feasting on your entrails and your heads will be set on spikes for the crows to peck.’
It was the other chieftain’s turn.
‘You two old women couldn’t catch a crippled crone. We’re armed and ready. We’ll make you eat your own turds!’
The trading of insults and threats seemed to go on and on. I felt impatient at this time-wasting but despite being drenched by the persistent rain neither side showed any sign of urgency.
Finally something changed.
‘Your wife is worth something to you then, Sigurd?’ The comment was so casual in the middle of the abuse, I almost missed it. The Jarl ignored it. Olaf continued:
‘She’s worth a lot to me. My manhood stirs when I think about her soft body.’ Jarl Sigurd had to clear his throat and Hakon took over with a stream of threats. The hostage takers turned their horses round and began to slowly ride away. I couldn’t hold back a cry. This earned me a sharp look from Hakon. Olaf and his companion turned back.
‘For a free passage and three chests of gold, I might decide to return her to you.’ Hakon replied with derisive laughter. This marked the beginning of the real negotiations. Several times one party or the other turned their horses and threatened to ride away. Then at last, the ransom was decided. The hostage-takers would get free passage, a knorr to take them across the sea and a quantity of gold. The gold was the main stumbling block. Hakon had none to spare for traitors but the Jarl was both able and willing to pay as Olaf Biornson must have known. He settled for a chest full of gold, one third coins and the rest ornaments and jewellery. They decided to meet the next day on the beach below Lade. The knorr would be there but no other vessels, the gold would be handed over, the chieftain and his men would leave and the hostages would be free. When that had been made clear the men dismounted and for the first time, got within reach of each other. They spat in the palms of their hands and shook on the deal.
‘How do you know they won’t kill the hostages or take them away?’ I asked the Jarl as we rode back to the farm.
‘Oh no, I have known Olaf Biornson since we were both young. He is a man of honour. He won’t break his word.’
The rain continued through the day and into the night. I performed my duties as head of household and tried not to think of my mother and children, wet and frightened, and all the things that could go wrong with the release of the hostages. We were finishing the evening meal when there was a knock on the door. A serving woman went to open.
‘Olvir!! Oh, my dear little boy. Where have you been all this time? We’ve been s
o worried about you.’ She fussed and exclaimed while bringing a soaked and exhausted Olvir up to the fire. I leaped out of my seat and embraced the wet, dishevelled little figure. He was out of breath and shaking with cold. I refused to let him talk until he had been dried off and given hot gruel to eat. He insisted he must talk to the King.
‘Olvir, you’ll never be admitted to the King. Even I am not allowed to just go and talk to him any time I want.’
‘But his life is in danger. I must see him and tell him.’ He looked flushed. I wondered if he had a fever.
‘Tell me first and we’ll decide what to do.’
‘When they hand over the gold tomorrow some of the men will run over and kill the King.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘I heard them.’
‘Who? Odin’s beard Olvir! What have you been up to?’
‘I saw the people run from the attack and I followed them. Kveldulf and the baby were there. I wanted to help. But then I saw Toki so I didn’t go to them I just followed at a distance. Then the men came and took your mother and Kveldulf and the baby and some others and I stayed hidden and followed them too and today when the chieftain came back he told them all they would get lots of gold for the hostages and then I saw some of the men nodding to each other and they went away like if they were going for a piss and I heard them talk and they hate the King and they want to kill him and they’re going to.’
I thought for a moment. Olvir did have a knack of creeping up on people and listening in. But he was very young and didn’t always understand what he heard.
‘Who were the men?’
‘I don’t know. How am I supposed to know that? Sigrid you must believe me! If I don’t tell the King he’ll die and it’ll be your fault.’ He cried and a deep cough rattled in his thin chest. I put another shawl around him and together we went to seek the King.
We were stopped at the entrance to the hall. I explained to the burly housekarls and after a delay we were admitted. The King and the Jarl sat together close to the fire. They didn’t believe us. Jarl Sigurd had heard from Toki about Olvir’s lies about the trader and now he was outraged by Olvir’s slander of yet another man of high standing.
‘But it isn’t the chieftain himself. He doesn’t even know.’ Olvir trembled in his frustration at not being believed. The Jarl looked furious.
‘Olaf ’s men will all be under oath to him. There is no threat. The hostages will be freed.’
I wondered how much of the Jarl’s conviction was made up of his desperate wish to see his wife again. I turned to the King.
‘Forgive me uncle. I would feel easier in my mind if you would at least have your housekarls around you.’
‘No!’ interrupted Jarl Sigurd. ‘It would be the end of the exchange. We must show that we trust Olaf and personally I have no reason to take the word of this urchin over his.’ With that we were dismissed.
Olvir cried so hard I had to give him some mead before he was in a fit state to listen to me.
‘We need Ragnar to help us with this. You must tell me where he is.’
He shook his head. ‘They’ve gone west, the other side of Nid. It’s another five days before I meet them again. I don’t know where they are.’
It was up to me. There was no one else. I must not despair. I thought for a while. Maybe there was a way to thwart the assassins’ plot.
‘I must act on my own and rely on Odin and Thor to help me.’
‘And me!’ Olvir, pale and exhausted but always at my side.
‘Yes, be alert and ready to get Kveldulf and Harald to safety if anything happens.’ There was nothing else he or anyone could do. I was alone in this.
The next morning Hakon ordered the beach to be cleared of people and a small knorr was pulled as close to the shore as it would go. A chest was carried down and left in the sand under the guard of Jarl Sigurd’s most trusted housekarls. It was not long after midday when the horn sounded for the arrival of the hostages and their abductors. The people of Lade were kept well away by King Hakon’s housekarls and stood in silent rows watching the event. The hostages had been on horseback but were now helped to dismount. Double lines of Olaf ’s warriors walked, swords drawn, on each side of Toki, the two women and my two children. The Jarl’s wife was in front with one of the abductors holding a knife to her throat. Behind her my mother carried Harald and Kveldulf walked between her and Toki holding on to their hands. Having seen that they were unhurt I looked away before any emotion could cloud my judgement. I had to keep calm and concentrate on the task ahead. I concentrated on the hostagetakers and tried to read their intent on their faces.
The hostage-takers lined up on the beach, close to the water’s edge, fidgeting and adjusting their weapons. The hostages stood in front of them and the chieftain Olaf Biornson and his brother in front of them. The Lade housekarls stayed out of range. The silence was broken only by the screams of the gulls and the waves breaking on the sand. I felt sweat trickling down my back and my stomach was in a hard knot as I went to stand next to the Jarl and Hakon. They took no notice of me. They stepped forward, cloaks thrown back to show they were unarmed, and faced the two leaders of the hostagetakers. I went with them, stiff with anticipation. Hakon looked at me then. His eyebrows met over the bridge of his nose and his chin tightened but he didn’t send me away. Olaf Biornson opened the lid of the chest and I saw the glow of gold as he lifted pieces aside to be able to see the coins at the bottom. The splendid jewellery, drinking horns, bowls and coins caused a murmur of anticipation among the hostage-takers. I fixed my gaze at the men and tried to figure out who would make a move on the King. I managed not to look at my children but I could not shut out the sound of Kveldulf ’s voice as he called out:
‘Look, there’s Mummy! Mummy, Mummy!’
I heard my mother shush him. The eager little voice tugged at me and I had an overwhelming urge to rush over to him and cover his dear little face with kisses. My hands shook, my eyes watered and my vision began to blur. I shook my head and blinked away my tears. The chieftain and his brother lifted the chest and staggered with it down to the water. They loaded it on to a small rowing boat and took it out to the knorr. Their men followed wading through the shallow water towards the boat. When the two men with the chest passed them the hostages began to walk towards us. In this general movement three men turned from the water and rushed for the King.
One came from the left. Toki saw him, stepped in front of him and threw his arms around him. He took the man’s knife in his chest and they fell together. Hakon’s men were with them in an instant.
The other two came from the right. I ran in front of Hakon and drew the short sword I had concealed under my pinafore. The two assailants were distracted and called out warnings to each other. The one in front pointed his dagger at me but my sword pierced his belly and he fell writhing to the ground. The other changed direction and ran away from us with great lumbering strides. I pulled out the other weapon I had managed to secret under my clothes, a small, sharp throwing axe. I raised it and took aim.
‘Don’t kill him! Sigrid, don’t kill him!’
It was my mother. Her cry startled me and my aim failed. Instead of landing, sharp edge first, between his shoulder-blades the axe glanced off the side of his head. He staggered and lost pace. Two housekarls caught up with him and cut him down. They dumped his twitching body at the King’s feet.
The rest of the hostage-takers had the oars out and were escaping. The air filled with noise, screams and curses. Olaf Biornson stood in the stern of the knorr cupping his hands round his mouth to make himself heard.
‘None of my doing!’ he shouted. ‘Not my men!’
All that was no longer of any concern to me. Shaking with relief, I ran to embrace my children. I took Harald from my mother’s arms and knelt next to Kveldulf, holding both my sons close. I kissed their soft, round cheeks and told them again and again how much I’d missed them. Through Kveldulf ’s excited chatter, Harald’s crying and
my own sobs I heard my mother quietly keening. It took some moments before I realised and got up to look at her. She stood with her eyes fixed on the dead assassin. Her voice was barely audible as she intoned the lamentation for the dead.
‘Mother?’
But she was unable to speak. Olvir arrived and took Harald and Kveldulf from my arms. I rose and grabbed my mother by her shoulders. I didn’t want to but I had to know. I heard my own voice, shrill and trembling.
‘Mother, who is that man? The man who tried to kill Hakon. Who is he?’
She looked at me with dead eyes and whispered:
‘Be quiet… your brother.’
I turned to run across to where Steinar was breathing his last. My mother threw her arms around me from behind and held me close.
‘Don’t move,’ she hissed into my ear. ‘Think of your children! Whatever you do, stay away from him.’
That brought me to my senses. I clung to her. I buried my face in her shoulder and the material of her dress muffled my agonised scream.
‘I killed him!’
‘You didn’t know. It’s not your doing.’
‘Yes it is. It is. I killed my brother.’
‘The housekarls killed him.’
‘Oh, Steinar!’
‘Shh Sigrid, be quiet, be quiet! The King must not know who he was. He must not find out. The children, think of the children.’ I knew she was right and I clenched my teeth to stifle my crying. ‘Sigrid, we shall grieve later.’
We held each other in a trembling embrace. My mother kept repeating: ’The children, the children…’ and it helped to steady us so, when Hakon came towards us, we were able to greet him. He seemed to think our tears were those of joy and relief at our reunion. I never knew how much he noticed or understood. Maybe he knew it was Steinar but he never let on and so we never had to answer for my brother’s attempt on his life.
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