The Long Ships (34 page)

“I do not wish to give less than other men,” said Orm, “for you must know that the blood of the Broad Embrace runs in my veins. When I reach home, I will build a church; you shall baptize all my crew, and I will give you fifteen marks of silver. But in return for this I expect you to speak well of me to God.”

“You are a true chieftain,” cried the Bishop joyfully, “and I will do all that lies in my power to help you.”

Both of them were delighted with the bargain they had struck; but the Bishop wondered if Orm could have been serious when he had said that all the members of his crew were to be baptized with him.

“If I am to be a Christian,” said Orm, “I cannot have heathens aboard my ship. For what would God think of me if I were to allow that? They shall do as I do, and when I tell my crew that such and such a thing is to be, they do not contradict me. I have some men aboard who have already been baptized once, or even twice, but once more cannot hurt them.”

He begged that the Bishops and all their followers would honor him by coming aboard his ship the next morning, so that he might convey them up the river to London and Westminster and they might all be baptized there.

“My ship is large and fine,” he said. “It will be somewhat crowded, with so many guests aboard, but the voyage will not take long, and the weather is fair and calm.”

He was very pressing about this, but the Bishop said that he could not make a decision in so important a matter before discussing it with his brother in office and with others of their company, so Orm had to contain himself patiently until the following day. He parted from the Bishop with many expressions of thanks, and walked back to his lodgings with Brother Willibald. The latter had not said much in the Bishop’s presence, but as soon as they had left the house, he began to cackle mirthfully.

“What are you so amused at?” asked Orm.

“I was only thinking,” replied the little priest, “how much trouble you were putting yourself to for the sake of King Harald’s daughter. But I think you are acquitting yourself very well.”

“If everything goes as it should,” said Orm, “you shall not be left unrewarded. For it seems to me that my luck began to improve from the moment I met you again.”

The Bishop, left to himself, sat for a while smiling to himself, and then bade his servants wake Gudmund. This they at length succeeded in doing, though he grumbled at being thus disturbed.

“I have been thinking about that matter we were speaking of,” said the Bishop, “and, with God’s help, I think I can promise you forty marks if you will allow yourself to be baptized.”

On hearing this, Gudmund became wide awake, and after a brief argument they shook hands on forty-five marks, together with a pound of the spices that the Bishop used to flavor his wine.

    The next day, at Thorkel’s lodgings, the chieftains discussed Orm’s proposal to convey the Bishops by ship to Westminster. On hearing of the plan, Gudmund announced that he would like to join the party. Seeing that the envoys had promised them a safe conduct, and that peace had been concluded between themselves and King Ethelred, he would, he said, like to be present when the King weighed out his silver, to ensure that the ceremony was carried out in a right and proper manner.

Thorkel thought this a reasonable request, and said he would have liked to accompany them himself if his arm had been better. But Jostein said that it was quite sufficient that one of the three chieftains should go; otherwise the English might be tempted to attack them, and it would be rash to weaken the strength of the main body in the camp before the silver was safely in their hands.

The weather was so fine that the Bishops could not find it in themselves to refuse to return by ship. Their only concern was lest they should fall foul of pirates; so at last it was decided that Gudmund should take his ship as well as Orm’s, and that they should sail up to Westminster together. There they were to see the silver weighed out with the least possible delay; and in the event of their meeting the King himself, they were to thank him for his gift and inform him that they intended to start plundering again, on a more extensive scale than before, if he took too long about handing it over.

Orm summoned his crew together and told them that they were now about to sail up to Westminster with the shield of peace upon their masthead and with King Ethelred’s holy envoys aboard.

Several of his men expressed uneasiness at this. They said that it was always dangerous to have a priest on board, as every sailor knew, and that a bishop might prove even worse.

Orm calmed their fears, however, and assured them that everything would be all right; for, he explained, these god-men were so holy that no harm could possibly come to them, however cunningly the sea people might contrive against them. He continued: “When we reach Westminster, I am going to get myself baptized. I have discussed the subject thoroughly with these holy men, and they have convinced me that it is an excellent thing to worship Christ; so I intend to begin doing so as soon as possible. Now, in a ship it is always best that everyone should be of the same mind and should follow the same customs. It is therefore my wish that you shall all be baptized with me. This will be to the advantage of you all. You can be certain of this, for I, who know, tell you that it will be so. If any of you is unwilling to do this, let him speak up at once; but he shall leave my ship and take his belongings with him, and shall not be a follower of mine any more.”

Many of the men glanced doubtfully at one another and scratched behind their ears; but Rapp the One-Eyed, who was the ship’s helmsman, and who was feared by most of the men, was standing in front of the crew as they listened, and he nodded calmly when he heard Orm say this, having heard him speak thus on a similar occasion once before. When the others saw Rapp do this, they offered no objection.

Orm continued: “I know that there are among you men who have already been baptized at home in Skania, perhaps receiving a shirt or a tunic for your pains, or a little cross to wear on a band round your neck. Sometimes it happens that one hears one of these men say that he cannot see that he has profited much from being baptized. But these were cheap baptisms, fit only for women and children. This time we are going to be baptized differently, by holier men, and are going to get protection from God and better luck for the rest of our lives. It would not be a right thing that we should gain such advantages without paying for them. I myself am giving a large sum for the protection and luck that I expect to receive; and each of you shall pay a penny.”

There was murmuring at this, and some of the men were heard to say that this was a new idea, that a man should pay to be baptized, and that a penny was no small sum.

“I am not forcing anyone to do this,” said Orm. “Anyone who thinks this suggestion unreasonable can save his money by meeting me in combat as soon as the baptizing is finished. If he wins, nobody is going to make him pay; and if he loses, he will also save his money.”

Most of the men thought that this was well spoken, and several of them challenged any member of the crew who had a mind to be closefisted to declare himself. But the ones to whom these words were addressed grinned weakly, thinking that they would have to make the best of whatever advantages their money might bring them.

Gudmund and Orm each took one of the god-men aboard his ship, the elder Bishop and his suite going with Gudmund, and the Bishop of London with Orm, who also took with him Brother Willibald. The Bishops blessed their ships, prayed for a lucky voyage, and set up their standards; then the ships put out and at once got a good breeze and fine weather, which made the men regard the Bishops with increased respect. They entered the river Thames on the flood tide, spent the night in the estuary, and next morning, in a clear dawn light, began to row up the river.

People stood at their hut doors among the trees that lined the riverbank, staring at the ships fearfully, and men fishing in the river prepared to flee as the ships hove into sight; they were calmed, however, by the sight of the Bishops’ standards. Here and there they saw burned villages lying deserted after one of the Vikings’ visits; then, farther up, they came to a place where the river was blocked by four rows of piles, with only a small channel left free in the middle. Three large watch-ships lay there, filled with armed men. The Vikings were forced to stop rowing, for the watch-ships stood in the midst of the channel with all their men prepared for battle, and blocked further progress.

“Are you blind?” roared Gudmund across the water, “or have you lost your wits? Do you not see that we come with a shield of peace on our masthead, and have holy bishops aboard?”

“Do not try to fool us,” replied a voice from the watch-ships. “We want no pirates here.”

“We have your own King’s envoys aboard,” roared Gudmund.

“We know you,” came the reply. “You are full of cunning and devilry.”

“We are coming to be baptized,” shouted Orm impatiently.

At this, there was loud laughter on the watch-ships, and a voice shouted back: “Have you grown tired of your lord and master the Devil?”

“Yes!” roared Orm furiously, and at this the laughter on the other ships was redoubled.

Then it looked as though there was going to be fighting, for Orm was enraged by their laughter and bade Rapp heave to and grapple the nearest ship, which was doing most of the laughing. But by this time the Bishops had hastily donned their robes, and now, raising their staffs aloft, they cried to both sides to be still. Orm was unwilling to obey, and Gudmund, too, thought that this was asking too much. Then the Bishops cried across the water to their countrymen, addressing them sternly, so that at last they realized that the holy men were what they appeared to be, and not prisoners or pirates in disguise. So the ships were allowed to pass, and nothing came of the encounter, apart from smart exchanges of insults between the rival crews as the Vikings rowed past.

Orm stood with a spear in his hand, staring at the watch-ships, still white with wrath.

“I should have liked to teach them some manners,” he said to Brother Willibald, who was standing beside him, and who had not shown any evidence of fear when the fighting had seemed about to begin.

“He who lives by the sword shall perish by the sword,” replied the little priest. “Thus it is written in the holy book, where all wisdom is. How could you have come to King Harald’s daughter if you had fought with King Ethelred’s ships? But you are a man of violence, and will always remain one. And you will suffer sorely for it.”

Orm sighed and threw down his spear.

“When I have won her,” he said, “I shall be a man of peace.”

But the little priest shook his head sadly.

“Can the leopard change its spots?” he said. “Or the blue man his skin? Thus, too, is it written in the holy book. But thank God and the blessed Bishops that they have helped you now.”

Soon they rounded a curve in the river and saw London lying before them on the right bank. It was a sight that struck the Vikings speechless with wonder, for the town was so great that, from the river, they could not see its end, and the priests told them it had been calculated that more than thirty thousand men dwelt there. Many of the Vikings found it difficult to imagine what so many men could find to live on in such a crowded place, with no fields or cattle. But the wise ones among them knew and said that such town-dwellers were an evil and cunning race, who understood well how to earn a livelihood from honest countryfolk without themselves ever setting their hands to a plow or a flail. It was therefore, these wise men argued, a good thing for bold sailors to pay occasional visits to these people and relieve them of what they had stolen from other folk. So they all gazed spellbound at the town as they rowed slowly up against the tide, thinking that here indeed there must be riches worth the taking.

But Orm and Rapp the One-Eyed said that they had seen bigger cities, and that this was only a village compared with Córdoba.

    So they rowed on toward the great bridge, which was built of huge tree trunks, and which was so high that the biggest ships could row under it, once they had lowered their masts. Many people rushed out to see them, including armed men, yelling at the tops of their voices about heathens and devils; but they broke into shouts of jubilation when they heard their Bishops cry resonantly to them that all was well and that peace had been concluded with the men from the sea. As the ships approached, people crowded on to the bridge to catch a glimpse of them at close quarters. When the crews caught sight of several fine young women among them, they shouted enthusiastically to them to make haste and come down, promising that they would find good prizes aboard, silver and merriment and bold men, as well as plenty of priests to pardon their sins in the best Christian manner. One or two of the young women giggled coyly and answered that they had a mind to do as the men bade them, but that it was a long way to jump; whereupon they were immediately grabbed by the hair by furious kinsfolk, who promised them the birch on their bare bodies for indulging in such lewd chatter with heathen men.

Brother Willibald shook his head sadly and said that young people were very difficult nowadays, even in Christian communities. And Rapp, too, standing at his steering-oar, shook his head as they passed beneath the bridge, and muttered sullenly that women were always full of useless chatter, wherever you found them.

“They ought to have kept their mouths shut,” he said, “and to have jumped at once, as they were told to do.”

They were now approaching Westminster and could see tall spires rising up behind the trees. The Bishops clothed themselves once more in all their finery; and the priests attending them began to chant an ancient hymn, which St. Columbanus had been wont to sing when baptizing heathens.

Lo! Here’s a host from darkness won
—Do not reject them, Lord!—
Who late in need and peril spun
Upon the sinful flood.
To the cross which the wide world o’er hath blazed
They lift their eyes, and Thy name is praised
By souls which late with the Devil grazed.
—Do not reject them, Lord!