King's Man (31 page)

perhaps I was not as solitary and self-possessed as I had always imagined myself to be. During the days I had spent with him and his family, I had experienced a sense of quiet harmony that I had never expected. Gazing into the flames of our cooking fire, I found myself wondering if my advancing years were having their effect, and whether the time had come when I should consider forsaking my rootless life and, if not settling down, at least having a place where I could stay and rest. So I allowed myself the luxury of calculating just how quickly I could complete my mission to Denmark and get back to Vaster Gotland.

Odinn must have favoured me because snow fell the very next morning and the ground froze hard. Travelling across a frozen landscape is far easier and quicker than in spring or autumn mud, and I made the journey to Denmark in less than two weeks' travel. I found that I neither liked nor trusted Svein Estrithson. He was stout, foul-mouthed and a great womaniser. He was also a powerful advocate for the White Christ, whose priests overlooked his lewd behaviour. For some reason, the Danes were very loyal to him, and rallied to his cause whenever Magnus's Norwegians threatened. I judged that Harald would find it almost as hard to dislodge Svein as to replace Magnus.

It was no hardship to cut short my visit and retrace my steps to Vaster Gotland. On the way there I stopped in a trading station to make some purchases and hire a carter. The man demanded a substantial sum to make such a long journey, but I was wealthy and his payment barely touched my store of ready funds. Thus, soon after I was once again back with Folkmar's family, a shout brought them to the door. Outside stood two small and sturdy horses with shaggy winter coats, their breath steaming in the cold air. Fitted to their hooves were the spiked shoes that had allowed them to traverse the icy ground as they dragged the sled that contained the furs, cloth, utensils and extra food that I now presented to Folkmar and his family as my guest offering.

Runa and I were joined as man and wife soon after the Jol festival, and no one in that remote community was in the least
surprised. Runa and I had discovered that we were quietly suited, as if we had known one another for many years. We shared a mutual understanding, which neither of us mentioned because we already knew that the other was equally sensitive to it. In the confines of the little cabin our harmony occasionally revealed itself in a shared glance, or a half smile that passed between us. But more often it was simply that Runa and I were gladdened by each other's presence, and savoured the contentment that flowed from being together. Naturally Folkmar and his wife had noticed what was happening, and took care not to intrude.

Our wedding was not, of course, a marriage in the Christian rite, all priest and prayers. As a young man I had married that way in Iceland, and the union had been a humiliating failure. This time Folkmar himself performed the ceremony, because Runa and her sister had been orphaned at an early age and this left him as her senior male relative. Folkmar made a simple declaration to the Gods, and then, standing before the images of Frey and Freyja, took steel and flint, and, striking one against the other, produced a trail of sparks. It was to show that within each substance, stone and metal, as in man and woman, lived a vital element which, when brought together, provided life.

Next day he hosted a feast for our immediate neighbours, at which they consumed the smoked and salted delicacies that I had earlier provided, and toasted our happiness in mead made from forest honey and shoots of bog myrtle in place of hops. During their toasts, several guests gave praise to Frey and Freyja, saying that the Gods had surely arranged for Runa to marry me. The Gods had taken her first husband when he was far away in Serkland, they said, and from Serkland they had sent his successor. They were fulsome in their congratulations, and during the winter months several of them came to help to construct the small extension that was built on Folkmar's cabin where Runa and I had our bedchamber. I could have told them to wait until the spring, when I could hire professional builders and purchase costly materials because
I
was rich. But I desisted. I liked my haven and I feared to disturb its equilibrium.

From the outset Runa herself took great comfort from her sister's open approval of our union, and she went on to make me very happy. She was to prove to be an ideal wife, loving and supportive. On our wedding night she told me that when she heard of her first husband's death, she had prayed to Freyja, pleading that she did not wish to spend the rest of her life as a widow. 'Freyja heard my prayers,' she said quietly, looking down at the earthen floor.

'But I'm fifteen years older than you,' I pointed out. 'Don't you worry that you will again be a widow one day?'

'That is for the Gods to decide. Some men they bless with health and allow to live. To others they give a life of drudgery which brings them to an early death. To me you seem no older than men of my own age, for already they are half worn out by toil.' Then she snuggled down against me, and proved that Freyja was indeed the goddess of sensual joy.

I was so utterly content all that winter and the following spring that I might have set aside my promise to serve Harald had not Odinn reminded me of my duty. He did so with a dream that was both shocking and, as it turned out much later, a deception. In my sleep I saw a fleet of ships coming across the sea and disembarking an army whose commander sought to seize a throne. The leader's face was never visible but always turned away from me, and I took him to be my liege lord Harald, for the man was uncommonly tall. He boldly led his army inland, his troops marching across baked and barren fields until they were brought to battle by their enemy. The fighting was intense, but gradually the invaders were gaining the upper hand. Then, just on the point of victory, an arrow flew out from nowhere and struck the tall commander in the throat. I saw his hands go up — his face was still turned away — and I heard the breath whistle in his torn windpipe. Then he fell, dying.

I
woke in a cold sweat of alarm. Beside me Runa reached out to comfort me. 'What is the matter?' she asked.

'I have just seen my lord Harald die,'
I
said, still shivering. 'Perhaps
I
can avert catastrophe.
I
must warn him.'

'Of course you must,' she agreed soothingly. 'That is your duty. But sleep now and rest, so that in the morning you have a clearer head.'

Next day she was just as sensible and made me repeat the details of the dream, then asked, 'Is this the first time that you have seen omens in your dreams?'

'No, there was a time when I had many dreams that hinted at the future if they were correctly understood. It's something that I have inherited from my mother. I hardly knew her, but she was a volva, a seeress gifted with the second sight. When I was in Miklagard among the Christians, such dreams were very rare, and certainly there was nothing so disturbing as what I saw last night.'

'Maybe your dreaming has returned because you are among people who still hold to the Old Ways. The Gods reveal themselves more readily in such places.'

'A wise woman once told me something similar. She herself possessed second sight and said
I
was a spirit mirror, and that I was more likely to have visions when I was in the company of others who also possessed the same ability. I suppose that being among Old Believers has the same effect.'

'Then you already know that we would want you to heed what the Gods are trying to tell you. You should seek Harald out and try to warn him. I am content to wait here for your return. I don't have to have second sight to know that you will surely come back to me. The sooner you set out, the sooner you will return.'

I left that same afternoon, taking the same eastward path that Folkmar and I had followed when we went to the Great Hof. On the third day I found someone to sell me a horse, and within a week I had reached the coast, and just in time. A fisherman mending his nets on the beach told me there was a rumour that a remarkable warship was under construction somewhere in the north, the like of which had never been seen before. The builders had been told to use only the finest timber and to install the best fittings, and that no imperfection would be tolerated. 'Must be costing someone a fortune,' said the fisherman, spitting towards his grubby little skiff as if to emphasise his point. 'Don't know who the client is, but he must be made of money.'

'Is the vessel launched yet, do you know?'

'Can't say as I do,' he replied, 'but it will be a sight to see.'

'I'll pay you to take me to see it.'

'Beats hauling on lines and baiting hooks,' he answered readily. 'Give me a couple of hours to pick up some extra gear and a bit of food and water, and off we go. Mind if my lad accompanies us? He's handy in a boat, and could come in useful. Breeze is in the north so it'll be rowing to start with.'

W
e
had
barely
cleared the bay when Harald's ship came into view, sailing southward and less than a mile offshore, and silently I thanked Runa for insisting that I hurried. Another couple of hours and I would have missed him.

There was no mistaking that it was Harald's ship. No one else would have required that his vessel be so extravagant and colourful. In later years, during frontier raids on the Danes, I was to sail aboard the largest vessel Harald ever commissioned, his
Great Dragon,
which had thirty-five oar benches, making her one of the biggest longships ever known. But that giant still does not compare in my memory with the vessel I saw that pleasant summer afternoon as Harald sailed to claim his inheritance. His longship was a blaze of colour. Immaculate display shields of red and white were slotted in the shield rack. The snarling serpent's head on the prow was gilded bronze, and flashed back the sun as the ship eased across the swells. A long scarlet pennant floated from her masthead, her rigging had been whitened, and the upper plank along her entire length had been decorated with gold leaf.

But that was not the reason why I knew for sure that she was Harald's ship. Who else would have ordered his sailmakers to use a cloth that, weight for weight, was as expensive as gold: every third panel of the mainsail had been cut and stitched from peach silk.

I
stood up on the thwart of the fishing skiff and waved an oar. An alert lookout on the longship saw me, and a moment later the vessel altered course. Soon
I
was scrambling over the side and making my way to the stern deck where Harald stood with his councillors. I knew all of them - Halldor, his marshal Ulf Ospaksson, and the others.

'Welcome aboard, councillor. What do you have to report?' Harald demanded as if I had seen him only yesterday.

'I
have visited both Magnus of Norway and Earl Estrithson, my lord,'
I
began, when Harald interrupted me.

'We have already met the Danish earl. He came north to ask help from the Swedes in his conflict with Magnus, and by chance we encountered him. How did he impress you?'

I paused, not wanting to sound pessimistic. But there was no getting round my opinion. 'He's not to be trusted,' I said bluntly.

'And my nephew Magnus?'

'My lord, he seems to be well regarded by his people.'

It was a tactless thing to say, and Harald rudely turned to look out across the sea, ignoring me. I suppose he felt that I was hinting he might not be so popular. Meekly I crossed the deck to join the other councillors.

Halldor commiserated. 'He needs someone to tell him the true facts from time to time.'

'There's more,' I said. 'I wanted to give him a warning, but now is not the moment.' 'What's the warning?'

'A dream I had recentl
y, a portent.'

'You were always an odd one, Thorgils. Even when you first came to my father's house, my brothers and I wondered why he took you in and gave you such special treatment. Is it to do with your second sight? What have you seen?' 'Harald's death,' I answered.

Halldor shot me a sideways glance. 'How will it happen?' 'An arrow in the throat during a great battle.' 'When?'

'I don't know. The dreams are never precise. It could happen soon, or many years from now.'

'You had better tell me the details. Together we might be able to persuade Harald to avoid an open battle, if not now then at least for some time.'

So I told Halldor what I had dreamed. I described the fleet, the invading army, the tall man, the march across a dry land under a blazing sun, and his death.

When I finished, Halldor was looking at me with a mixture of relief and awe.

'Thorgils,' he said, 'my father was right. You really do have the second sight. But this time you have misinterpreted your vision. Harald is safe.'

'What do you mean?'

'It was not Harald you saw die. It was Maniakes, the tall Greek general who led us in the campaign in Sicily.'