“Of course not,” said Erik, giving him a too-understanding nod.
“This will even weaken you,” said Ragnvald.
“I think not,” Erik replied. “Speak to your king.”
Ragnvald returned to Harald and told him what Erik had proposed. Harald sat down heavily on the stump that served as his chair. “I just wed Gyda,” he said. “In fulfillment of my oath.”
“And that wedding was completed and you were bedded,” said Ragnvald. “She may even bear you a son. But you would have to make Ranka’s sons your heirs.”
“For now,” said Harald grimly.
“Yes, for now.” Ragnvald trod back and forth before Harald’s makeshift throne. “Same with the divorces. Pay your wives and their families handsomely to take away the sting of divorce. Once Ranka has borne you a son, remarry your wives. Erik will not be in a position to cause you harm at that point. I will make sure of it.”
“Do you think my wives will accept it?” Harald asked.
“We will make them accept it,” said Ragnvald. “Each of them will have a price. Princess Gyda wants nothing more than to be queen of Hordaland again, so let her have that. We will have to speak with the others. And you already wanted me to put Snaefrid aside for you.”
“What of Svanhild?” Harald replied. “What will she ask?”
Ragnvald did not want to think of that. Like Asa and some of Harald’s earlier wives, Svanhild was now wife to Harald in name only, and she kept her bed empty of all but her ugly old chaperone. She took far more joy of her ship and her duties as one of Harald’s captains than as a wife. Still, she was not a woman who swallowed insults easily.
When Ragnvald did not answer, Harald stood and began pacing the same track that Ragnvald had worn. “Or perhaps my question should be, what will you ask?”
This was his chance. “Three things,” said Ragnvald quickly. “Sogn for Ivar, Maer for Thorir, and . . .” He hesitated for a moment. “And for you to believe me when I tell you Halfdan rebelled against you. He, Melbrid, and Erik had an understanding until Erik had his men take the other two prisoner.”
Harald looked pained. “Then Halfdan is now one of Erik’s captives. He is another son to ransom.”
“Just—if you will not punish him, send him away for a time. Make him an envoy to the Great Danish Army—or Constantinople, perhaps. But do not doubt me. I have always acted in your interests. You are my sworn king, and always will be.”
“What of young Rolli’s crime?” Harald asked.
“Must we discuss this now?” said Ragnvald.
“Yes. Your wife wanted me to trade Sogn for his forgiveness, and I have been advised that it is the best decision for Norway.”
Advised by whom? Ragnvald wanted to ask. Probably Guthorm, urged by Vigdis, trying, as always, to cut Ragnvald off at the knees. It did not matter, though, all that mattered was saving Sogn for his line.
“Rolli deserves outlawry,” Ragnvald said, “but he is young. Make it a short term and let me help him leave Norway safely.” And Harald would send Halfdan overseas, directly into Rolli’s waiting sword.
“Rolli murdered Aldi’s son, and took others as slaves,” Harald reminded him. “I cannot see a sentence of less than seven years being just.”
“Seven years, then,” Ragnvald said. “Sogn for Ivar, Maer for Thorir, and your forgiveness.”
“You fight my wars for me, and make my alliances for me. As I have your loyalty—and your sister’s—so do you have mine.” He gripped Ragnvald’s forearms. “Everyone will be assured of this when I hold Rolli’s trial.”
He sent Ragnvald to tell Erik that they had agreed. It was not until Ragnvald was falling asleep that night that he thought over Harald’s words again, and heard the warning in them. He could never stop fighting Harald’s wars, whatever they might be, never stop making his alliances for him. Ragnvald would defend against threats to Harald’s kingdom until he died, just as Ronhild prophesied.
21
Thorir and Sigurd helped Hilda down from Rolli’s ship onto the Skanian beach. She hugged Thorir fiercely, though she had seen him only a few weeks earlier in Vestfold.
“You are so skinny,” she said, when his shoulders dug into hers. Thorir rolled his eyes, the way boys always did.
Sigurd greeted his son, Olaf, while Thorir told his mother what had happened here, of the parties that had gone off and disappeared, one after the other. Hilda looked toward the gray forest that had captured her husband and eldest son and shivered.
Svanhild’s laugh drew her attention as she joked with Sigurd as though she were his brother, not his sister, kicking his shin when she thought he took too long to tell his tale. On board Rolli’s ship, Hilda had watched Svanhild order her men around with an ease that did not seem natural.
At least she had Rolli with her. Hilda cooked for Svanhild’s and Rolli’s crews and the few men that Ragnvald had left behind on the shore, and when that did not take up enough of her time, she washed some of the men’s soiled garments in seawater.
Three days later, Harald, Ragnvald, and their warriors returned, marching out of the woods in waves. Ragnvald looked fierce and tired, like a graying old wolf, with more threads of silver in his hair than Hilda remembered from even a few weeks ago. He did not even look happy to see Svanhild, and his frown deepened when Rolli greeted him.
“Wife, what are you doing here?” he asked, giving her a perfunctory embrace. “This is the last place—”
“You!” Hilda heard Aldi shout. She turned to see Aldi advancing on Rolli, with his sword drawn. “You have the gall to come here? You should have fled. You should have stayed away forever.”
“Aldi!” said Hilda, interposing herself between them. That brought Aldi up short, even as Ragnvald gripped her arm painfully to pull her back.
“Mother, get out of the way,” said Rolli, drawing his own sword. He advanced on Aldi, pressing him back toward the shore until waves lapped at his ankles. “Let us duel now, Aldulf Atlisson, and end this.”
Harald waded into the surf behind Aldi. He was still a finger’s breadth taller than Rolli, and together they looked like envoys from a race of giants.
“Stop,” Harald roared. “I have forbidden unsanctioned dueling. Even here, you are my subjects and you will accept my justice.”
“I want to duel,” said Rolli. “Give us permission.”
Hilda had a memory of her father reciting the law that was so strong it felt more real than the scene taking place in front of her. “First blood,” she cried out. “Rolli, take three years’ outlawry if Aldi wins, and if Rolli wins, Aldi will take the standard wergild for a jarl’s son.”
“Yes,” said Rolli, “I accept this. Aldi?”
Harald looked from Rolli to Aldi and back again, and finally at Hilda, seeming to notice her for the first time. “Aldi, do you accept this?”
Aldi glanced at Hilda and shook his head slightly. “No,” he said. “I want your justice. My king’s justice.” He sheathed his sword.
“Very well,” said Harald. “You shall have it.”
* * *
Hilda found Sigurd working by her side during her tasks that night, a pleasure she had not had in a long time. His son, Olaf, too, worked shyly next to him, pounding fish with his skinny arms. For a few moments Hilda forgot about the trial that was coming, happy with her simple tasks and the pleasure of seeing her family together in one place, Einar and Ivar sitting side by side again, as though Ragnvald had never parted them.
It had been a rare occurrence these past few years, with Ragnvald always away. And then Rolli had his ship, and Ivar and Einar their errands, taking them away from her side. This was her family as it was meant to be, even on a foreign beach, with tension running high around the various campfires.
During dinner, though, Ragnvald would barely look at any of his sons. Vigdis had been right: he would rather let them be punished for what he saw as their failures than use his power to help them.
Rolli ate a small dinner even for a no
rmal-size man, much less a giant who was still growing. When he had finished, he tucked his hands under his thighs, and leaned forward. “Father, I know you are angry with me—”
“My anger does not matter,” said Ragnvald, his voice harsh. “Your crime does.”
“But I came to tell you something important,” Rolli cried. “Halfdan is going to betray King Harald, and he has lots of allies. All the Scottish vikings! Thorstein the Red said so!”
“Thorstein,” said Ragnvald, more thoughtfully. “I remember him as a young man.” He rubbed his knuckles on hearing the name. Thorstein had been one of Solvi’s captains in the battle of Hafrsfjord, and before then one of Ragnvald’s captors, present when Ragnvald’s hands were broken under torture.
“He’s a big man with a big red beard now,” said Rolli. “Not as big as me though.”
“He could hardly grow a beard before,” said Ragnvald, half to himself.
“Halfdan has allied with King Erik of Jutland. Also Ketil Flatnose, Melbrid Tooth. We saw him—Halfdan—when we rescued Svanhild.” Rolli sat back, looking pleased.
“King Harald has allied with King Erik now, and his son’s rebellion is broken,” said Ragnvald. “You come bearing old news.”
Rolli slumped forward. He had put so much hope into the intelligence he carried. “What can I do, then, Father?” he asked.
Ragnvald stood and brushed the crumbs off his trousers. “Hope that Harald is feeling merciful,” he said, and went off to visit one of the other cook-fires.
While Sigurd banked the fire to keep the coals burning through the night, Hilda stood and pulled her stepson Einar aside. “You know the law,” she said. “You must help me.”
“You did well enough on the beach,” he said, with an ironic twist to his lips. Ragnvald looked like that because of his scar, but Einar had let his own spirit do this to him.
“Please,” said Hilda.
“I cannot do anything against Father’s wishes again,” said Einar. He looked very like Ragnvald in the twilight that faded his golden hair to dark. “Do not ask me.”
Hilda twisted her hands together. “You would not be working against him if you helped me remember some law that would help Rolli. Please. He is not even of age yet.”
Einar’s mouth was a thin line. “If he is not tried as a man, then Father will be held responsible for his actions and pay the wergild.”
“Aldi will ask for Sogn,” said Hilda.
“But Rolli commands a ship and wields a sword,” Einar continued, as if he had not heard her. “He acts as a man, and can be tried as one. Do you think Father will take responsibility for this?”
Hilda shook her head. “But leave your father aside,” she said. “Help me with the law. What can I do? I cannot lose him.”
“Beg for him,” said Einar. “Harald will decide what he will decide. He is king, and kings do not care very much for the law.”
“You are a poet—give me the words,” said Hilda.
“Tell me what you would say,” said Einar.
Hilda took a deep breath and spoke before she could think too much and grow nervous. “I would say . . . ,” she began. “I would tell him that I am a mother whose joy is my sons. My two eldest are heirs to Norway’s finest districts, but my youngest is my own comfort. In outlawry any may slay him, and he is only a boy. There is nothing I would not give to keep him by my side. Please do not take away the son of my heart.”
“That is well said,” said Einar, with a deep sadness in his voice. “I can think of no way to better phrase it.”
* * *
Harald called a full gathering the next morning. He stood on top of a dune, where the shape of the sand forced his men to stand in a semicircle below him.
“My friends and followers,” he said, “there is much to discuss. King Erik is bringing his ships here from the Skanian camp, so we can make plans for the future. There is more to be done to root out these rebels and keep Norway safe, with King Erik’s aid. But before he arrives—”
“Justice for my son,” called out Aldi. “You promised me swift justice if I brought my ships to Skane.”
“They are my ships,” said Ragnvald. “You will have your justice, but you cannot demand that the king of all Norway bow to your whims.” That seemed good to Hilda. At least Ragnvald was doing something.
“This crime is an unhealed wound,” said Aldi. “I will have my justice.”
“I did promise,” said Harald. “And I keep my promises.”
Something flickered across Ragnvald’s face at Harald’s words.
“Good,” said Aldi. “You are a fair and just king. I will tell you what has happened, and this whelp will tell his story, and you will see what is just. My family line descends from the same as King Ragnvald’s. At his request, I have been guarding Sogn for him for these past fourteen years, while he rules Maer from Tafjord. Some time ago, he sent his niece, Freydis, to me, and she was among those that we were taking with us to Vestfold. Again, at King Ragnvald’s command. I have done nothing without his command for fourteen years, even though he set in motion the events that led to my father’s death. He pit King Hakon against my father, and they both killed one another. Hakon’s son Oddi and I both refrained from taking revenge, but how long can I ignore the cries of my father’s blood?”
The crowd of warriors murmured to one another.
“Silence,” said Harald. “Do you ask for justice for the duel your father and King Hakon fought, or do you ask for justice for your son?”
“My son,” said Aldi, bitterly. “It is too late for justice for my father.”
Aldi continued his tale then, the one that Hilda had heard from his own lips and Rolli’s too now. He did not know whose blade had ended his son’s life, but Rolli’s other crimes, and his complicity, demanded a great punishment.
As Rolli stepped forward to tell his version of the story, Hilda rushed forward to stop him. “My son must have someone to speak for him,” she said, ignoring the murmurs even louder than at Aldi’s interruption. She saw the dark shape of Ragnvald standing within her field of vision but kept her eyes only on Harald—his opinion mattered right now, and Ragnvald’s did not. “His is not yet of the age of majority, and may have someone speak on his behalf.”
Harald looked surprised. Hilda drew herself up to her full height. The habit of dressing in dark colors, making herself smaller, held her strongly, but she had dressed to be noticed today, in her richest and most vibrant dress. She had polished the turtle-shaped brooches that held up her overdress so they gleamed.
“He can waive that right,” said Harald mildly, “if my memory serves.”
“It does,” said Hilda. “My father was law-speaker of Sogn for forty years. Before he died, he taught me everything he knew. I have memorized the laws as well as any man. I will speak for my son.”
“Women may not testify,” Aldi called out. “Or may, only if no man can be found to testify.”
Einar stepped forward. “Let her speak,” he said. “She is versed in the law. We studied it together, and she remembers far more than I do.” Hilda flushed and nodded her thanks at Einar.
Harald shifted from one foot to the other. “Let Einar Ragnvaldsson speak for his brother then. But Rolli must tell his own tale first.”
Einar looked at Hilda helplessly. “Einar has two half-brothers mixed up in this,” she protested. “How can it be fair for him to argue for Rolli?”
“Enough of this,” said Harald. “No speakers, then. I will decide.”
Einar gave Hilda an apologetic glance and fell back into the crowd. Hilda twisted her fingers together as Rolli stepped forward into the open space below Harald.
He told a story that did not contradict Aldi’s in the least. “I do not know if it was me, or Hallbjorn, or another of our crew who caused the death of Aldi’s son. I will accept my punishment,” he said, “as long as it is not my own death. But I ask that you weigh some of my other deeds against this one. I have rescued your beloved wife, my aunt Svanh
ild Eysteinsdatter, and I bring news from the Orkney Islands. Your own son Halfdan has allied with the king of Skane, and Ketil Flatnose of the Outer Hebrides, and together they plan to make war against you.”
Rolli looked around, as though he still expected cheers, and his shoulders sagged when only murmuring greeted his announcement.
“That would have been useful to know if you had arrived earlier,” said Harald. “But I’m afraid this cannot change your sentence. The lady Svanhild was already safe through our negotiations when she escaped. King Erik has allied with me against his former friends. My son is reconciled to my side. We have agreed to sail together to the Orkneys to root out these raiders.”
He looked down at the assembled crowd. “I am known for my swift justice,” he said, “so I pronounce this: in compensation for his loss, Aldi’s line will inherit the district of Sogn, and he and his sons will be called jarls.”
Ragnvald stepped forward. “My king, you cannot do this. You swore an oath that Sogn should be mine.”
“My uncle, my first and most trusted adviser, has counseled me to do this,” said Harald.
“He should have more care for your honor,” said Ragnvald, angrily. “You and I discussed the gifts that you would owe for this alliance with Erik, and among them was not stripping my family of its ancestral land.”
Hilda had never heard Ragnvald speak to Harald that way, and from the expressions she saw around her, none of them had either.
“I have been assured that this is the best way to keep peace in Norway,” said Harald. He frowned at Ragnvald sternly, but his voice sounded uncertain. “I know that you are loyal to me, but some have questioned it. If you accept this, that will prove it. I cannot make your son a favorite, or make you a favorite by allowing your sons to inherit two of Norway’s districts, while Aldi has a just claim.”
“What you do here will be remembered,” said Ragnvald. “If you deal unfairly with me, no other king in Norway will expect better. Think on it.”
Hilda felt sick at what she had set in motion. As though the power of a seeress touched her, she saw the future in Ragnvald’s words: war, with every district of Norway against the others, as they had been in Hilda’s youth, when even a king might lose everything he possessed to a rapacious neighbor or raiders from the seas. It need not come to pass, but it would, if Ragnvald made it so.
The Golden Wolf Page 23