He drew from his shirt the little gold cross and held it in front of the Bishop’s nose.
“I found this in a rich man’s house,” he said. “It cost me two men’s lives, and a prettier plaything I never set eyes on. I intend to give this to my small son when I return home. His name is Folke, and women call him Filbyter. He is a sturdy little ruffian, with a particular fondness for silver and gold, and once he has got his hands on a thing, it is no easy matter to get it away from him. He will hardly be able to contain himself when he sees this cross. It would be a fine thing if you could bless it and make it lucky, for I want him to become rich and powerful, so that he will be able to sit at home in his house and be honored by men, and see his crops flourish and his cattle wax fat, and have no need to rove the sea for his livelihood, faring ill among foreigners and their arms.”
The Bishop smiled and took the cross and mumbled over it. Gudmund, greatly delighted, stuffed it back into his shirt.
“You shall return to your home a wealthy man,” said the Bishop, “thanks to good King Ethelred’s openhandedness and meek love of peace. But you must believe me when I tell you that your luck would be even greater if you were to come over to Christ.”
“A man can never have too much luck,” said Gudmund, pulling thoughtfully at his beard. “I have already decided which neighbor’s land I shall purchase when I return home, and what manner of house I shall build on it. It shall be large, with many rooms, built of the finest oak. To have it the way I want it to be is going to cost a lot of silver. But if I have a good hoard of silver left in my coffers after I have built it, I do not think anyone will feel much inclined to laugh at me, howsoever I may have conducted myself while abroad. So it shall be as you wish. You may baptize me, and I will follow Christ faithfully for the rest of my days, if you increase my share of King Ethelred’s silver by a hundred marks.”
“That,” replied the Bishop mildly, “is not the right attitude of mind for one wishing to be admitted into the brotherhood of Christ. I shall not blame you too heavily, however, since you are doubtless unfamiliar with the text which says: ‘Blessed are the poor’; and I fear it would take some time to explain the truth of that to you. But you should bethink yourself that you are already about to receive much silver from King Ethelred, more than any other living man could offer you; and, though he is a great and powerful King, still, even his coffers are not bottomless. It is not within his power to grant this demand of yours, even if he were agreeable to doing so. I think I can promise you a baptismal gift of twenty marks, seeing that you are a chieftain, but that is the maximum that I can offer, and he may regard even that as excessive. But now I beg that you will sample a drink that I have specially ordered to be prepared for us and which is, I think, not known in your country. It consists of hot wine blended with honey and with rare spices from the Eastland called cinnamon and cardamom. Men well versed in the subject of drink assert that no beverage is so pleasing to the palate or so effective at dispersing heavy humors and morbid cogitations.”
Gudmund found the drink good and wholesome; nevertheless, the Bishop’s offer still appeared to him to be inadequate. He would not, he explained, be prepared to risk his good name at home in East Guteland for as little as that.
“However, for the sake of the friendship I bear toward you,” he said, “I will do it for sixty marks. I cannot offer myself more cheaply than that.”
“The friendship I bear toward you could not be greater,” replied the Bishop, “and such is my desire to lead you into the brotherhood of Christ, so that you may partake of the wealth that Heaven has to offer, that I will even plunge into my own poor coffers to satisfy your demand. But I own, alas, little in the way of worldly goods, and ten marks is the most that I can add to my original offer.”
Gudmund shook his head at this and closed his eyes sleepily. At this stage in the bargaining a commotion was suddenly heard outside the door, and Orm burst in with Brother Willibald struggling under one arm and two porters hanging on to his clothing and clamoring that the Bishop was not to be disturbed.
“Holy Bishop!” he said. “I am Orm, Toste’s son, from the Mound in Skania, a captain of Thorkel the Tall. I wish to be baptized and to accompany you to London.”
The Bishop stared at him in amazement and some alarm. But when he saw that Orm was neither drunk nor out of his wits, he asked him the meaning of his request; for he was not accustomed to Northmen forcing themselves into his presence on errands of this nature.
“I wish to place myself under the protection of God,” said Orm, “for my plight is worse than that of other men. This priest can explain it all to you better than I can.”
Brother Willibald then begged the Bishop to forgive him for taking part in this intrusion. He had, he explained, not come voluntarily, but had been compelled to do so by the brute force of this heathen berserk, who had dragged him past vigilant porters, despite his desperate struggles and protests; for he himself had realized that the Bishop was engaged upon important business.
The Bishop replied amiably that he need give no more thought to the matter. He pointed a finger at Gudmund, who, with the assistance of a last cupful of spiced wine, had fallen asleep in his chair.
“I have labored long to persuade him to become a Christian,” he said, “and yet I have failed, for his soul is wholly occupied with earthly considerations. But now God has sent me another heathen in his place, and one, moreover, who is not called but comes of his own free will. Welcome, unbeliever! Are you fully prepared to join our brotherhood?”
“I am,” replied Orm, “for I have already served the prophet Mohammed and his God, and I gather that nothing can be more dangerous than that.”
The Bishop’s eyes grew round, and he struck the cross on his breast three times and called for holy water.
“Mohammed and his God?” he inquired of Brother Willibald. “What is the meaning of this?”
Between them Orm and Brother Willibald explained to the Bishop how the matter stood. The Bishop then announced that he had, in his time, seen much of sin and darkness, but that never before had he set eyes upon a man who had actually served Mohammed. When the holy water arrived, he took a small branch, dipped it in the water, and shook it over Orm, intoning prayers the while to drive the evil spirits out of the latter’s body. Orm turned pale as the Bishop did this, and he afterwards said that this sprinkling was a hard thing to endure, for it made his whole body shiver as though the hairs on his neck were trying to stand on end. The Bishop continued to sprinkle him vigorously for some time, but at length desisted and said that that would suffice.
“You are not rolling about in fits,” he informed Orm, “and I can see no froth on your lips, nor can detect any unpleasant smell emanating from your body. All this signifies that the evil spirit has departed from you. Praise God for it!”
Then he sprinkled a little on Gudmund, who immediately leaped to his feet, roaring at them to reef sail, but then fell back on his bench and began to snore resonantly.
Orm dried the water from his face and asked whether this would have the same effect upon him as baptism.
The Bishop replied that there was a considerable difference between baptism and this rite, and that it was by no means so easy for a man to be permitted to undergo baptism, least of all one who had served Mohammed.
“First you must forswear your false gods,” he said, “and avow your belief in the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. In addition to this, you must also be schooled in Christian doctrine.”
“I have no gods to forswear,” said Orm, “and am ready to bind myself to God and his son and this ghost of theirs. As for schooling in Christian doctrine, I have already had plenty of that, first from the monks in Ireland, and afterwards at King Harald’s court, and from my old mother at home, as well as she was able. And now I have heard more about it from this little priest, who is my friend and has taught me a great deal about Satan. So that I think I am as learned on the subject as most men.”
The Bis
hop nodded approvingly and said that this was good to hear, and that it was not often that one met heathens who were willing to listen to so much instruction about holy matters. Then he rubbed his nose and stole a thoughtful glance at Gudmund, who was sound asleep. He turned again to Orm.
“There is one other point,” he said slowly and with great solemnity. “You have been dyed more deeply in sin than any man I have ever come across, in that you have served the false prophet, who is the blackest of all the chieftains of Satan. Now if, after partaking in such abominable practices, you wish to place yourself under the wing of the living God, it is meet that you should bring with you a gift for Him and for His Church, to show that your repentance is genuine and that you have truly abandoned your evil ways.”
Orm replied that was no more than was reasonable, that he should give something to improve his luck and buy the protection of God. He asked the Bishop what would be regarded as a suitable gift.
“That depends,” said the Bishop, “upon a man’s blood and wealth, and upon the magnitude of his sins. Once I baptized a Danish chieftain who had come to this land to claim his inheritance. He gave five oxen, an anker of ale and twenty pounds of beeswax to the Church of God. In the ancient Scriptures we read of men of noble birth who gave as much as ten marks of silver, or even twelve, and built a church besides. But they had brought all their household with them to be baptized.”
“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.
The Long Ships Page 26
