TLV - 03 - The Sign of the Raven (4 page)

Of a sudden they were in the lee of the island. It lifted bleak and stony, the sea tossed and bellowed even here and wind came around the cliffs with claws of rain. But they might be safe. "Out anchors!" Even this small shelter seemed to hold a ringing, shuddering stillness after what they had just weathered.

The iron hook went overboard, and stone anchors followed. Their cables stretched, drew taut. If the lines broke or the ship dragged there would be an end to Harald Hardrede. Men still clutched their oars, trying to hold the vessel steady while their comrades bailed. It was a weary while before the darkness began to lift and the storm to lessen.

Thjodholf went up to where Harald stood, Thora by his side. His verse could just reach their ears above the racket:

"The king now lets his keel boards

cleave the ground of billows;

all that tow and tackle

can take, he sets on trial;

the heavy storm-blows harshly

haul upon our cables,

anchor claws are eaten

by angry waves and sea stones."

Harald smiled shakily. "Well, at least you've not had your gifts of speech blown away," he said. Looking about, he saw that two other ships lay close; the rest must be scattered into every shelter for miles about.

It was not a good sign. "Ill is our luck," he said to Thora.

She held his arm tightly. Her lips passed over his, a wet cold kiss, to reach his ear, and she answered merrily: "No, this is the best of tokens. If we overcame such weather, we can trample down anything which stands against us."

2

The fleet had suffered astonishingly little loss, and rallied itself the next day. Though seas still ran heavy, the Norse reached the Gota mouth in a short time and steered into the bay on the evening. By then there was a flat calm.

Harald frowned when he saw the water empty of Danish ships. A little smoke rose from the nearby thorp, but no one was in sight, the people must have fled. Foreboding stabbed through him. Did Svein once more mean to avoid battle?

"They may also have been held up by the storm," said Eystein Gorcock when he met the king on shore.

"The wind would have favored them," replied Harald. "Even if they waited out the gale, they should be here now. Take some men and go find news. There must be someone about who knows."

Eystein nodded. His sister asked anxiously: "What if Svein does refuse to meet us?"

"Then we must seek him out
...
or burn his country down around his ears," said Harald.

"The yeomen will not like a long campaign at this time of year," said Haakon Ivarsson. "Bad enough to call them out just when their hay was getting ready. If their grain rots in the field, we may look for rebellion."

Harald gave him a cold stare. "So now you too will go home with your belly dragging the ground?"

Haakon flushed red. "I'll stay, my lord," he responded angrily. "It's not my fault if you won't listen to sensible redes."

"There's no luck in this voyage," muttered Ulf. "It's what comes of taking a woman along."

Thora stamped her foot. "And you'd liefer be lounging at home?"

"Be still, all of you!" said Harald.

A jag of pain ran over Ulf's ugly face; he turned and walked with faltering steps toward his tent. Harald had half a mind to run after him. It must be lonely to feel death gnawing in your breast. But the bitterness of Svein's betrayal was too thick in his mouth.

He would scarcely say a word throughout that evening.

On the morrow he called a Thing of his men and related his challenge to them, bidding Svein be all men's nidhing did he not accept. Thereafter it was a dreary waiting, while Eystein and Gunnar and others were out after word. The thorp saw much carousing, ball games, fights between such horses as had been carried along; but the host was as sullen as its leader.

Eystein's band came back in three days. The sheriff rode up to the king's tent, and Harald sprang out and almost dragged him from his steed. "Well?" barked the king. "What have you learned?"

"We stole up on a steading which seemed rich, and took the folk prisoner." Eystein tugged his mustache unhappily. "They said Svein has his fleet out indeed, but far to the south, near Fyen. They know because two of their sons had gone to join him—"

Harald whirled and grabbed a tent stay. The whole thing came down under that, and he took the ridge pole and broke it across his knee. "God curse that craven," he choked. "Hell take his worthless soul and fry it. That whelp of a mangy dog, that dead and rotting fish, that eater of maggots—"

Thora listened in awe till he fell silent. Then she said briskly: "Well, put the torch to Denmark."

"Seek him out," said Magnus. "Hunt him down and spit him."

Haakon Jarl had come up with the other chiefs and now shook his curly head. "My lord, the yeomen will not stand for such a chase. What boots victory if they starve this winter?"

"Aye . . . aye
..."
Harald's knuckles were white on his fists, he stared before him like a blind man, but his tone came soft: "Yes, I suppose you have right. We'll call the Thing together, offer rich reward to those who'll remain true, and then sail on."

"Svein will have a larger fleet if our yeomen go home," said Thora. "Is it not so?"

"Yes," nodded Ulf. "The Danes care less for their crops than for revenge—or for safety. They know we'll fire their fields if we can."

H
arald sighed. "I've a greater foe than Svein Estridhsson," he said. "It is the old woman who wrestled Thor to a fall, the hag who eats years. I'll not waste what's left in this sour corner of the earth. St. Olaf witness, we'll end the war this time, one way or another."

Thora's nostrils flared. "There speaks Harald Hardrede!" she cried.

At the Thing, most of the yeomen said stubbornly they would return. "What use is gold? My children can't chew on it this winter." But enough of the younger sons were ready to fight that Harald could man a hundred and eighty ships. He steered from the Gota, southward along Halland, and wherever there was settlement he landed to sack and burn. It was his hope that news of this would draw Svein up to him. But if he must, he vowed, he'd ride into Roskilde and cut the Dane king down in his own hall.

After a week or so of thus harrying, he entered the shallow curve of Lofufjord, where the river Niss empties into the sea. Hills rolled gently back from the beach, yellow with ripening grain, dark with patches of woods; a sizable hamlet lay under thatch roofs near the shore. As the Norse rowed closer, they saw a line of armed yeomen forming.

"They haven't the hope of a snowflake in hell," said Thjodholf. Sadness crossed his face. "Those are brave men."

"They are Danes," said Harald.

He let the anchor drop and the horns blow to summon his captains for council. Haakon Jarl was First aboard, with troubled mien. "I have a boon to ask of you, my king," he said.

"Well?" Harald waited, arms folded on his breast.

Haakon met his gaze steadily, though Harald's eyes smoldered. "When I was serving Svein," he said, "I lay to at this spot for a while, being sick. One of the folk here took me in and treated me kindly—Carl, his name is. It would be an ill repayment to slay him and make his children thralls."

"Aye, so." The jarl was astonished to get a mild answer; he had been ready to use strong words and even threats. "Well, we can spare this one thorp since you ask it. Go you and tell them we will grant peace if they lay down their arms and give us such provisions as we need."

Haakon bowed deeply, and sprang into his boat with a joyful face. Thora gave her man a puzzled look. "It's not your wont to do thus," she murmured, "especially when it's a favor to one you distrust."

Harald stared across the quiet waters. The jarl was in his boat, holding empty hands aloft as he was rowed close to the strand. "That fellow stands by his friends," he replied. "It was well to make him ours, if we can."

Agreement was quickly reached, and the Norse swarmed merrily ashore. That night there was cheer in the hamlet, and Harald supposed a number of new souls would be added to it nine months hence. He himself tented with Thora on the beach, but Haakon was a guest in Carl's home.

The next day Harald led his host inland, where they slaughtered cattle and robbed houses as before.

It was a mighty strand hewing, and the countryside smoked when they came back that evening. Haakon felt that his host Carl's eyes were reproachful, and gave the man a good horse.

In the misty morning, Harald ordered the fleet to ready itself. That went slowly, for there was much to take aboard, and they were still there after noon.

Then a shout rose up. Harald ran from the beached
Fafnir
and stared west. A bright hard glimmer was on the horizon, sunlight bouncing off gilt.

"Ships!" exclaimed Ulf. "A whole fleet!"

"Svein, by God!" Harald whooped it forth. He tossed his hat in the air and hugged his marshal and danced Thora across the sward. "Blow the battle call! On armor, out swords, here comes the end of the war!"

By the time the chiefs were gathered, it was plain that the nearing force was of overwhelming size, easily twice their own number. The ships spilled over the sea, it was dark with them; against the dazzle of the westering sun they swarmed like midges.

Eystein frowned uneasily. "So Svein has used his old trick once more," he said, "and this time we cannot escape unless we start soon."

"Yeomen!" snorted Styrkaar. "We can cut them into flitches and eat them for breakfast."

"I've seen a pack of dogs pull down a boar," said Haakon. "What think you, my lord? Shall we stand and fight, or shall we take to our heels? It's no dishonor to run from such odds."

Harald's tawny head lifted as he answered: "Sooner shall we fall man by man, one atop the other, than fly."

Magnus' eyes glowed.

3

Thora refused to stay ashore, and Harald had no time to compel her. "Keep down below the foredeck, then," he said as he put his shoulder to the longship. "The men will have work to do."

Wading out and pulling himself over the side, he scrambled into helmet and byrnie, hung a sword at his waist, and laid shield and ax nearby. For the shooting that would come First, he had a six-foot bow from Finland and a chestful of goose-feathered arrows, each a yard long with barbed iron head. He told off one of the younger men to steer, while he placed himself in the bows. As they rowed slowly off, he took out his banner and lashed it to the figurehead. A light breeze caught the red and gold, the raven seemed to beat hungry wings, Landwaster was going to sea.

Ulf's ship, a dragon smaller only than the
Fafnir,
slipped alongside to larboard. The marshal paced up and down the plank laid across the benches, urging his crew to readiness—a bearlike form in bright helmet and rattling mail, eyes greenly alight. To starboard, Styrkaar yelled oaths and orders. Further along on that side was Magnus, his boy's face drawn white and tense, shivering in his costly armor; beyond him were the Throndheim men under Ey-stein's command. Larboard were the ships of the Dale and other southern districts, farthest out the Upland fleet of Haakon Ivarsson.

They had not come a great way when they found sea room. Harald snapped an order, and ropes were tossed, linking ship to ship with his own at the point of a blunt wedge. On the wings of it, many remained free to go where their captains should see need; among these were Jarl Haakon's.

Svein steered closer, the evening sun ablaze behind him. It was hard to see against that glare of molten gold, but Harald descried the royal banner of Denmark on the foremost enemy craft, and beside it a ship flying Finn Arnason's standard. Harald smiled sleepily. Calm had come over him. All waiting and yearning were past; now it was only to fight.

The Danish force was indeed mighty, bound together into a many-legged giant. This was going to be a hard battle, and Harald hoped the men on his wings could keep the enemy from flanking him. He thought so. His host was only half as great, but proven warriors, not bewildered yeomen.

Through the rise and fall of voices, clank of arms, rattle and splash of oars, he heard a skald on Ulf's ship chanting. Thjodholf was silent, hefting a spear. Rags blew above helmeted heads; it could almost have been a May queen's pageant. But . . .

"Sound the attack," said Harald.

Thjodholf set a horn to his lips, and the hooting lifted, wild. Answers cried down the line, and the fleet lumbered forward.