TLV - 03 - The Sign of the Raven (8 page)

The room became altogether still. Gunnar looked out at the day, which seemed suddenly less bright.

The whole way down to Oslo, he brooded over what he had heard. Surely such a thing could not be true of the great Haakon Jarl. And yet, and yet!

He looked at Eystein. The sheriff rode like a rainbow, all in gold and green and scarlet. What to do? Eystein would know . . . but suppose Eystein said to keep the story secret.

The king was God's chosen man, and he had spoken kindly to Gunnar Geiroddsson. If there was treachery abroad, it would be a worse treason not to warn him.

Eystein was Haakon's near friend, but he was also close to the king. Which would he choose, if it came to that? If he stood by the jarl, what should his man, who was also sworn to the king, do?

The warrior groaned aloud. His chief turned a concerned face. "Are you ill, Gunnar?" he asked. "You were ever the loudest and merriest among us, but today you sit like a sack of meal."

"I . . . drank too much yesterday."

"Ah, so. Well, watch your health. Spring is a devilish time for colds." Eystein began whistling.

They traveled easily, overnighted at another farm garth and reached Oslo the next afternoon. Harald bade the sheriff welcome and gave lodging to his men. It was to be seen that the king was less cheerful than of yore.

Gunnar sat moodily that evening. He had no heed for the fair young women who served. It was late before he got up the courage to do what must be done.

The fires were low, and men were yawning. Harald left the high seat to go to bed. Gunnar stumbled after him. "My lord!"

"Yes?"

"I . . . I'd speak to you . . . under four eyes."

Harald searched the broad freckled face. "Is it important?" he asked.

"Aye, my lord." Gunnar's fingers twisted together.

"Then come." Harald's tall form went to the foreroom door.

An old carline beyond was sweeping by a rushlight. Harald waved her out and closed the door. He sat down, crossed his legs, and regarded Gunnar over bridged fingers.

"Well?" he asked.

The warrior could not meet that gaze. He dug his toes at the floor. "We was to Jarl Haakon's two days agone," he said. "I heard somewhat there.
..."

Harald's face remained a lean mask. He waited. "One of the jarl's men, he said he had it from another, that 'twas Haakon himself what spared
King Svein.
..."

Harald's foot crashed to the ground. He sat bolt upright. "What?"

"Aye, 'tis but a tale, my lord, and yet the man what told it swore he had it from one of they what set the king ashore that day. He said Svein came in a boat and talked to the jarl, and the jarl had two men set him aland. So he said. It may be a lie."

Harald rose, very slowly and carefully, and went to the door. "Eystein!" he shouted.

The sheriff came running. "What is it, my lord?"

Harald grabbed his shirt and pulled him inside and cracked the door shut again. The king's face was terrible to see. "This man tells me that it was Haakon Ivarsson who saved Svein Estridhsson's life at the Niss. What know you of it?"

Eystein broke free. "Not a word, my lord," he whispered. "Whence came so foul a story?"

Gunnar stared at the floor. "We was drinking," he said miserably. "The tale came from a drunk lad's mouth."

"In
vino Veritas,"
said Harald. It was eerie to hear so much venom in priest language.

"It may be a lie, a brag," said Eystein. "Who knows?"

Harald spoke grimly. "Would one of Haakon's own men slander him, even when drunk? We know Svein escaped, and with all the traffic there was on the water, all the men watching for any Dane they might clap hands on for ransom, how else could he win free but by help of a Norse traitor? And who else in our host had any love for Svein? To what other man would he even have turned for help? Oh, yes, there's but one answer, and we are fools for not having seen it erenow."

"At least hear him out," begged Eystein. "Let him defend himself."

"He may do so . . . with a sword," snarled Harald.

"But . . ."

"With whom do you stand, Eystein?"

The sheriff doubled his fists. "I stand with you," he said at last.

"Good!" Harald went to the door. "Up, every man! Busk yourselves! We ride tonight!"

3

At the head of a dozen score warriors, the king stormed northward over roads of darkness. Each man had been ordered to take an extra horse, and use the mounts in turn, for they would not halt and were bound into hill country. No word passed Harald's lips the whole way and none dared speak to him.

When morning came, they were on a narrow, slippery upward track. Ahead of them, the land climbed for the clouds. Men chewed hastily snatched bread and cheese, passed jugs from hand to hand, and forced their tired bodies to stay in the saddle. The horses went with drooping heads and eyes that pleaded for rest.

Several oxcarts came creaking the other way, bound to Oslo market with meal and malt. The yeomen stared fearfully at the mailed men who rattled by them, and muttered to each other.

One of the troopers drew rein and squinted at a farmer who rode a horse. "Is it you, Skafti?" he asked.

"Aye . . . and you are Gamall Eiriksson," nodded the yeoman, who had been his neighbor of old. "Whither fare you?"

Gamall looked around. The guardsmen were going past at a walk, and no one paid him any heed. He laid his mouth near Skafti's ear and whispered: "I've a boon to ask of you. It's a matter of life and death."

"So? Tell me and I'll think on it."

"I'll reward you well, if you'll ride as fast as your horse can take you, by the shortest bypaths you know, straight to Haakon Jarl. Tell him the king is out after his life, because he's now learned it was the jarl who helped King Svein ashore at the Niss."

Skafti's eyes snapped wide. He crossed himself. "That's a dangerous errand," he said.

"Not so loud, man! I told you I'd pay for the help."

"What the jarl's life to you?" asked Skafti shrewdly.

"Jesu Kristi! Who else can stand up for the folk's right against this overweening king we have? Now quickly, be off!"

Skafti rubbed his chin. "How much did you say you'd give?"

"Half a mark in silver. Here, I have it in my pouch."

"Silver's no use to a dead man, and that's what I'll be if ever the king hears of this. I should be a true soul and tell him what you just said, but for old times' sake
..."

"A full mark!" groaned Gamall.

"Two marks, and I'm your man."

"One and a half. I'm not rich, you dog."

"Calling me a dog will cost you another half mark, Gamall."

"Well, then, two and a half. You shall have it. . . . Here's my pouch, I'll give you the rest in Oslo and hope you fry in hell. Be quick!" Gamall wheeled his horse and clattered back into the troop.

Skafti sighed. "It's a chancy life," he said to the boy on his lead oxcart. "Sell our loads as best you can without me, but not a copper less than half a mark." He steered his mount off the road, found a trail that cut into the forest, and settled down to urge speed out of the nag.

The early dusk was turning to night when Skafti came to Haakon's hall. He dismounted stiffly and rapped his ax on the door. The steward opened it.

"I've word for the jarl," said the yeoman. "Do you rub down my horse and give him some water, but not enough to founder him."

"And who are you to speak so bold?" asked the steward.

"Well," said Skafti, "if you want to be hanged from the same tree as your master when the king comes, I'll go home."

He was hastily led inside. Haakon and Ragnhild were not yet abed, but sat drinking by a low fire. The jarl nodded pleasantly. "What brings you here, fellow, and what's your name?"

Skafti kept to the shadow. "My name's of no moment, but my news is." He told the story in a few words. "The way the men was riding, they should be here ere midnight."

Haakon sprang to his feet. "Christ have mercy!" he said in a shattered voice. "Is the man a warlock that he knows?"

Ragnhild came to him. "The tale is true?" she whispered.

"Yes. . . ." Haakon bent his face into his hands. "I could not refuse him when he stood there, alone and friendless—he who had only sought to keep what was his lawful right. But now I've lost all for both of us,"

"No," she said softly. "Not while we live." Pride rang in her tone. "I'd not have had my man do otherwise."

Haakon clutched her to him, and it was as if he drew strength from the slim body. When he stepped from her, he was the chief who had conquered at Niss River.

"Thorkell, Sve
rting, Sigurdh, Hallvardh, Saem
ing—up, every man and woman, if you want to see dawn again! Lights! Here, to me, and break open the weapon chests!"

The garth burst into a roar. Folk hurried about, stowing, packing, provisioning, while Haakon moved among them giving orders. Some were to take the monies and movable goods into the forest and hide them, some were to arm themselves and follow him, there must not be a living soul to meet Harald Hardrede when he came.