The Constant Queen (53 page)

The swirling current stills. Her scudding heart slows. The water catches her arms and legs and for a moment she is lost, but then, slowly, it warms as if a volcanic heat is surging through
it. Then, in a liquid haze, she sees the ripple of a warrior before her, his strong body sinuous in the flow, his coffin cast aside, his scar washed away, and his hair, caught in the last spin of
the bubbles, shining golden in the sunshine.

As with
The Chosen Queen
, the first book in
The Queens of the Conquest
series, I have loved doing the research for this novel. The battle has been more about what
to force myself to leave out than what to include. I have done my very best to keep the plot within the bounds of the known facts but in the end I did not seek to write a summary of the period, but
Elizaveta’s story. As a result, some of the amazing characters and places that I discovered during my research could not be allowed much space within the final novel.

I am aware that there will be misinterpretations within my work but here at least are some explanations of areas where I chose to bend the facts a little for the sake of the narrative, as well
as some added details that may help curious readers to explore this fascinating period of history further.

Elizaveta’s Neck Chain

This is a product of my imagination, but based on a key piece of information from a known love poem by Harald himself, written during his service in the Byzantine Empire and
reported by Snorri Sturluson (an Icelandic saga-writer, author of
King Harald’s Saga
, written in the twelfth century) as referring to Elizaveta. It includes the verse:
Yet the
goddess in Russia / will not accept my gold rings
, which can also be translated to describe Elizaveta as Harald’s bracelet goddess or necklace goddess. The
Morkinskinna
(an early
thirteenth-century Norse saga telling the history of the Norwegian kings) suggests that Harald had spoken with Yaroslav during his first time in Rus, requesting to marry Elizaveta, only to be
rejected because he was not yet wealthy enough. During his mercenary work in the Byzantine Empire he seems to have regularly sent his gains to Yaroslav’s vaults for safekeeping and from these
shadowy facts I derived the idea of Elizaveta becoming his ‘treasure-keeper’ and their romance progressed from there.

Harald’s Raven Banner

It was traditional for war leaders in this period to have a personal flag or banner carried before them into battle. Harold of Wessex was known by his ‘fighting
man’ and King Olaf fought beneath a dragon, as described in the novel. The traditional Viking flag, however, was known as the ‘landwaster’, for obvious reasons, and usually bore a
raven – the bird of the battlefield. This classic symbol is the one Harald chose to use for himself.

There is a tantalising possibility that a part of Harald’s banner still exists, in the form of the legendary ‘fairy flag’ of the chiefs of Clan MacLeod. This tattered and
fragile 46cm
²
piece of yellow-brown silk is kept in Dunvegan Castle in Scotland. The silk is believed to have come from the Far East and when it was examined in the early twentieth
century, it was suggested that it may have come to England with Harald, believed to be an ancestor of Leod, the first leader of the MacLeod clan.

Later this flag was associated with a whole range of myths about its magical properties, including the belief that it extinguished a fire at Dunvegan Castle in the mid-twentieth century, and
that it brought luck to servicemen flying bombing missions in the Second World War. We will probably never know the truth of its origin (or its magical properties!) but it is very pleasing to
imagine that it might be possible to stand before the very banner that Harald carried into the terrible Battle of Stamford Bridge and I could not resist weaving its creation into Elizaveta and
Tora’s stories.

Harald’s Return to Norway

Harald married Elizaveta in early 1043. The marriage probably took place at the time of the Winter Festival (see below for more on this midwinter celebration) as suggested
rather dramatically in the novel. The pair moved from Kiev to Novgorod and then at some point on to Ladoga to make the sea crossing to Scandinavia but they do not seem to have actually set sail
until 1045. This gap of two whole years remains unexplained.

It is certainly possible that, as I suggest in Chapter Seventeen, they were detained helping Vladimir fight rebels in the north as this was a perennial problem. It is also true that in this
period Magnus was locked in bitter battles with Svein, who had seized Denmark, and Harald may have been hoping that they would kill each other, leaving the way clear – or, at least, clearer
– for him to take the throne.

When they finally did sail, their return to Norway was not as simple as I have – for the sake of not labouring or clogging the narrative – suggested here. Harald’s acceptance
as joint King of Norway with his nephew was peacefully made in 1046, but only after some classic medieval raiding and looting to impose his terms on Magnus.

In fact, when Harald and Elizaveta arrived in Sigtuna, Svein was also there, in exile from his wars with Magnus. He and Harald allied (at least superficially) and raided Denmark all summer
before Magnus’s men secretly approached Harald to offer him a share in Norway in return for his help against Svein and a share of his vast treasure. At this, Harald unceremoniously ditched
his tentative ally and left for Norway, where negotiations were almost certainly held, as I have described, in the borderlands and the uneasy joint tenure began.

The Solstice Festivals of Midsummer and Midwinter

The Viking (and Anglo-Saxon) year was still, in this period, ruled by divisions into seasonal quarters, with the summer and winter solstices on the longest and shortest days
and the equinoxes in between. These ‘quarter days’ were often when servants were hired and rents paid so they had a vital influence on daily life and were marked with celebrations.

Much of this also tapped into pagan practices as the early church was careful to adopt ancient ceremonies and adapt them into Christian ones to ensure continuity and therefore encourage people
to move easily to the new religion. Thus, Easter grew out of Mithras and Christmas out of Yule, and the other divisions of the calendar were also cunningly tied into key feast days on the quarterly
divisions of the calendar.

Much of this assimilation was cleverly managed but the two solstice celebrations could, for the Christian church, be considered as ‘the ones that got away’ and they remain (bar maybe
Halloween) as the most pagan of all celebrations.

Midsummer

It is at this festival, celebrated on the beach at Giske in Chapter Six, where we first meet Tora. I hope this scene captures the very natural feel of this ancient day.
Although 24 June was proclaimed as the feast day of St John the Baptist and the observance of St John’s – or Sankt Hans in Norse – was accepted, it remained as much a celebration
of nature as of religion.

In England Mayday became the predominant summer festival, as shown in Chapter Twenty-nine of
The Chosen Queen
, but in Scandinavia, where the solstice in most places means a
twenty-four-hour daytime, this was the key celebration. It remains so important even now that in Sweden the government are still considering changing their national day from 6 June to
Midsummer’s Eve.

Midwinter

It is at this mirror festival, celebrated on the Dnieper, where Harald finally secures Elizaveta’s hand with his dramatic proposal from the burning dragon-ship in Chapter
Fifteen. This celebration has its roots very firmly in pagan tradition, echoing the classic cremation of great chieftains in their ships, accompanied by all their belongings to see them comfortable
in Valhalla – the great feasting hall in the sky. It also draws on the ancient practice of sacrificing a ship to welcome the sun back as the days begin to lengthen and to ensure the
gods’ favour on travels for the coming year.

Readers who wish to know more of this would do best to visit the Shetlands in January as the festival of Up Helly Aa, held in Lerwick on the last Tuesday of that month, still upholds many
ancient Viking traditions, including Viking dress, torchlit processions and a burning ship.

Norwegian Assemblies

At the start of Part Three, Harald addresses a great assembly of his people and these governmental meetings, much like those of the ‘Witan’ or royal council in
England, were central to Norwegian rule in this period. In Norse they were called ‘Things’ but for ease of comprehension (as ‘thing’ is clearly a common word in English with
a very different meaning), I have referred to them simply as assemblies.

Smaller Things operated at a local level, but there were three supra-Things led by the king for higher-level law cases and crucial issues of law and government. The Eidsivathing was for central
Uppland about Lake Mjosa (in the east). The Eyrathing was near the mouth of the River Nid for Trondelag (in the north). The Gulathing (as seen in the novel) was for Sogndal, Hardaland and the
fjords just south of the mouth of Sognafjord (in the west). It seems to have been the model for the great Icelandic Thing around which the world’s earliest-known democracy was established and
I was delighted to be able to take Elizaveta to this amazing country in Chapter Thirty-two. I very much hope that including this scene shows the reader that the Vikings, at least by this late
period, were not just bloodthirsty raiders but also settled men of intelligence, rational organisation and culture.

The Rapids Races

These great races, both in Kiev and subsequently in Oslo, are, I must confess, a product of my own imagination, though based on geographical possibility. The rapids of the
Dnieper were legendary. The river was only navigable in a short window during the early summer, after the winter thaws had dropped enough to calm the raging currents, but before they dropped so far
as to expose the great rocks on the river bed.

Viking traders always gathered in Kiev in spring to collate the goods collected from all over the lands of the Rus during the winter tribute gathering and to load them onto boats at the docking
station at Vitichev (a few miles south of the city) ready for the great trip down to Constantinople once the water level was deemed navigable. It is therefore, I hope, more than likely that some
form of race could have marked the readiness of the waters for this vital trading run.

Winter Tribute Gathering

Prince Edward of England, Prince Andrew of Hungary and Harald are all mentioned in the novel as taking part in Grand Prince Yaroslav’s winter tribute gathering. This was
a punishing task that involved riding all over the vast lands of the Rus to collect tax from the various remote tribes in the form of goods – often furs. This collection was made during the
winter because the simplest way to travel was up the frozen rivers. The tribute-gatherers and their considerable armed guard would ride on horses wearing specially spiked shoes to grip the ice and
would draw sleds to transport the goods. No doubt the collected furs were more than welcome in Russia’s freezing winters!

Halldor’s Tales

All of Halldor’s extravagant tales are based on known facts, as discussed below:

Darkness at Stikelstad

In Chapter Two, Halldor tells how, in the Battle of Stikelstad, darkness fell at the crucial point in the fighting. His interpretation of it as King Cnut sending ‘a devil
with a black cloak across the sun’ is clearly imaginative, but there was a recorded solar eclipse in that year. It took place on 31 August 1030, rather than the traditional date of the
battle, 29 July. Dates at this period do not seem to have been as vital as they are to us now and are often confused and there is a clear oral tradition that the battle was fought in darkness. The
eclipse started at 13.40, becoming total by 14.53 and over by 16.00, so it may well have overshadowed the battlefield at a crucial point.

Jumping the Chain at Miklegard

Halldor’s grand tale of Harald’s men jumping the great chain across the harbour at Miklegard in Chapter Thirteen is also based on a known story, recorded by the
famous Icelandic saga-writer Snorri Sturluson (see above). He was not a man known to be a slave to facts, but the dramatic trick of tipping the boat over the chain by running from one end to the
other is recorded in detail so I considered it worthy of inclusion here.

Greek Fire

Halldor also delights, in Chapter Seven, in telling of ‘Greek fire’. This mysterious weapon of the Byzantines, first recorded in the 600s, was a huge fascination
for storytellers and audiences throughout this period and, intriguingly, remains an unexplained weapon. ‘Greek fire’ was the name given – along with others like ‘sea
fire’, ‘liquid fire’ and ‘sticky fire’ – to flames projected at speed from some sort of pressurised nozzle. It was held in awe and fear by other nations as it
burned on water so was a huge advantage in naval warfare, although clearly it had its limitations, including the need for calm seas and close-range deployment.