iess explicitly acknowledged. The Forkbeard looked to Svein Blue Tooth. Svein
fingered the tooth on its chain. "Yes," said he, "come tonight to my
hall-Champion." There had then been again much cheering. Svein B1ue Tooth, high
jarl of Torvaldsland, followed by his woman, and high officers and counselors,
and other followers, then took his way from the dais. We had fed well in the
hall of Svein Blue Tooth. Many were the roast tarsk and roast bosk that had
roasted over the long fire, on the iron spits. Splendid was the quality of the
ale at the tables of the Blue Tooth. Sweet and strong was the mead. The smoke
from the fire found its way high into the rafters, and, eventually, out of the
holes cut in the peaked roof. Some of these were eighteen inches square. Light
was furnished from the cooking fire but, too, from torches set in rings on the
wall, backed with metal plating; too, here and there, on chains from the beams,
high above, there hung large tharlarion oil lamps, which could be raised and
lowered from the sides. At places, too, there were bowls, with oil and wicks,
with spikes on their bottoms, set in the dirt floor, some six inches from the
floor, others as high as five feet; this mode of lamp, incidentally, is more
common in the private chambers. It was not unusual, incidentally, tha the floor
of the great hall, rich as it was, was of dirt, strewn with rushes. This is
common in the halls of Torvaldsland When the Forkbeard, and I, and other
followers, many oi them bearing riches, entered the hall , we had been given a
room to one side, in which we might wash and dry ourselves before the feast. In
this room, unusual in halls, was a window. I had put my finger against it, and
pressed outward. I was not paned with glass, but with some sort of membrane but
the membrane was almost as clear as glass. "What is this?" I had asked the
Forkbeard. "It is the dried afterbirth membrane of a bosk fetus," he said. "It
will last many months, even against rain." Looking out through the window I
could see the palisade about the hall and its associated buildings. The palisade
inclosed some two acres; within it were many shops and storage houses, even an
ice house; in the center, of course, reared the great hall itself, that rude
high-roofed palace of the north, the house of Svein Blue Tooth. Through the
membrane, hardly distorted, I saw the palisade, the catwalk about it, the
guards, and, over it, the moons of Gor. In the far distance, the moonlight
reflected from its snowy heights I saw, too, the Torvaldsberg, in which the
legendary Torvald was reputed to sleep, supposedly to waken again if needed once
more in Torvaldsland. I smiled. I turned to Ivar Forkbeard. I saw that
treasures, borne by his men, had been placed in this side room He grinned. The
Forkbeard was in a good mood. The last night had been quite a pleasant one for
him. He had handed off Pudding and Gunnhild to his men, for the night, and had
ordered to his furs Honey Cake, the former Miss Stevens of Earth, and the wench,
Leah, the Canadian girl, whom I had won at archery and given to him as a gift.
Honey Cake, like many shy, introverted, timid girls, fearing her own sexuality
and fearing that of men, sensing them in terror as her natural masters, was the
mistress of secret, incredible depths of repressed sexual emotion and feeling;
the Forkbeard, of course, a rude barbarian, was not in the least concerned with
the walls which she had, carefully, over years, built to conceal her own needs
and desires from herself; he simply shattered them; he had forced her, unable to
resist, as only a bond-maid without choice, to look deeply and openly on her own
naked needs and desires; then he had used her as a slave; she had yielded to him
helplessly, wondrously, laughing, weeping, crying out with joy; the wench, Leah,
whom I had won at archery, had tried to resist the Forkbeard; he had her beaten
and thrown back to his furs; soon she, too, in her turn, was moaning with
pleasure; helplessly; she was responding beautifully to him; by morning both
girls, on and about him, fighting one another, jealous of one another, were
begging for his touch; at dawn he had ordered one of his men, that he might get
some sleep, to chain them prone head to foot, the right ankle of each chained to
the projecting ring on the collar of the other; the Forkbeard did not rise until
afternoon; he was then much refreshed; I had, in my turn, with several of the
other of the Forkbeard's men, enjoyed Pudding and Gunnhild; both were superb;
toward morning, too, I had felt Olga's small fingers at my ankle; she was, like
several of the other bond-maids, chained by the right ankle, the chain some
eight feet in length, to a stake driven into the earth near the center of the
Forkbeard's tent; she had crawled to the extent of her chain, her right leg
extended behind her, and had stretched her right hand toward me; I took the furs
to her side, wrapped her within them with me, and had much pleasure with her; we
fell asleep two Ahn afterwards, she still held in my arms, her head on my
shoulder. When the Forkbeard himself rose, of course, the camp became quite
active, and the slaves were put about many menial labors; the thrall, Tarsk, was
unchained from Thyri, and set about the sawing of wood; Thyri herself, her
kirtle thrown to her, was ordered to pound grain to make flour; she could not
even look Tarsk in the face, I noted; she looked down, shyly; from her cries the
night before I knew that she had, behind the tent, yielded to him; the other
girls much teased her for yielding to a thrall; "I would have been beaten had I
not yielded," she said in defense; then she looked down once more, and smiled;
she did not seem discontent. I saw her, late in the afternoon, unbidden,
secretly bringing him water at his work. "Thank you, bond-maid," said he. She
put down her head. "You are pretty, bond-maid," he said. "Thank you, my Jarl,"
she said. He looked after her, as she sped away. He grinned. He then, whistling,
worked with gusto. He did not then seem to me unlike a free man. "If you are
washed and readied," said a young thrall, collared, in a kirtle of white wool,
"it is permissible to present yourselves before the high seat of the house,
before my master, Svein Blue Tooth, Jarl of Torvaldsland." "We are honored," had
said the Forkbeard. He designated four of his men to guard the treasures. We
looked at one another. "I feel," I said, "as though I were walking into the jaws
of a larl." "Do not fear," said Ivar. "I, Forkbeard, am at your side." "Were you
not at my side," I said, "I doubt that I should feel as I do." "I see," said the
Forkbeard. "Could we not," I suggested, "simply leap naked into a pit of
venomous osts, or, perhaps, race madly across the plains of the Wagon Peoples
during a lightning storm, our swords raised over our heads?" "The trick," said
the Forkbeard, "is not simply to walk into the jaws of a larl. Any fool can do
that." "I am well aware of that," I said. "The trick," said the Forkbeard,
winking, but not thereby much reassuring me, "is to walk back out again!" "You
have some intention, then," I asked, "of emerging from this escapade alive?"
"That is a portion of my plan," acknowledg
ed the Forkbeard. "And, failing that,
we will die nobly, against heavy odds. Thus, my plan is foolproof." "You have
reasoned it out well," I admitted. "Lead on." The Forkbeard lifted his head
boldly and, smiling, emerged from the side room, at the entrance to which he
stopped and raised his hands, saluting the tables. He was greeted with warmth
from the many warriors there. He had won six talmits. "The Forkbeard greets
you!" shouted Ivar. I blinked. The hall was light. I had not understood it to be
so large. At the tables, lifting ale and knives to the Forkbeard were more than
a thousand men. Then he took his way to the bench opposite the high seat,
stopping here and there to exchange pleasantries with the men of Svein Blue
Tooth. I, and his men, followed him. The Blue Tooth, I noted, did not look too
pleased at the Forkbeard's popularity with his men. Near him, beside the high
seat, sat his woman, Bera, her hair worn high on her head, in a kirtle of yellow
wool with scarlet cape of the fur of the red sea sleen, and, about her neck,
necklaces of gold. We had fed well in the hall of Svein Blue Tooth. During the
meal, for Svein was a rich man, there had been acrobats, and jugglers and
minstrels. There had been much laughter when one of the acrobats had fallen into
the long fire, to leap scrambling from it, rolling in the dirt. Two other men,
to settle a grievance, had had a tug of war, a bosk hide stretched between them,
across the long fire. When one had been pulled into the fire the other had
thrown the hide over him and stomped upon him. Before the fellow in the fire
could free himself he had been much burned. This elicited much laughter from the
tables. The juggIers had a difficult tiIne, too, for their eyes on the cups and
plates they were juggling, they were not infrequently tripped, to the hilarity
of the crowd. More than one minstrel, too, was driven from the hall, the target
of barrages of bones and plates. The Forkbeard was, at one point, so furious at
the ineptness of the musicians, that he informed me of his own intention to
regale the tables with song. He was extremely proud of his singing voice. I
prevailed upon him to desist. "You are a guest," I told him, "it would not be
seemly for you, by your talents, to shame the entertainers, and thereby perhaps
reflect upon the honor of your host, who doubtless has provided the best he
can." "True," admitted the Forkbeard. I breathed more easily. Had Ivar Forkbeard
broken into song I would have given little for our chances. Male thralls turned
the spits over the long fire; female thralls, bond-maids, served the tables. The
girls, though collared in the manner of Torvaldsland, and serving men, were
fully clothed. Their kirtles of white wool, smudged and stained with grease,
fell to their ankles; they hurried about; they were barefoot; their arms, too,
were bare; their hair was tied with strings behind their heads, to keep it free
from sparks; their faces were, on the whole, dirty, smudged with dirt and
grease; they were worked hard; Bera, I noted, kept much of an eye upon them; one
girl, seized by a warrior, her waist held, his other hand sliding upward from
her ankle beneath the single garment permitted her, the long, stained woolen
kirtle, making her cry out with pleasure, dared to thrust her lips eagerly,
furtively, to his; but she was seen by Bera; orders were given; by male thralls
she was bound and, weeping, thrust to the kitchen, there to be stripped and
beaten; I presumed that if Bera were not present the feast might have taken a
different turn; her frigid, cold presence was, doubtless, not much welcomed by
the men. But she was the woman of Svein Blue Tooth. I supposed, in time,
normally, she would retire, doubtless taking Svein Blue Tooth with her. It would
be then that the men might thrust back the tables and hand the bond-maids about.
No Jarl I knew can hold men in his hall unless there are ample women for them. I
felt sorry for Svein Blue Tooth. This night, however, it seemed Bera had no
intention of retiring early. I suspected this might have accounted somewhat for
the ugliness of the men with the entertainers, not that the men of Torvaldsland,
under any circumstances, constitute an easily pleased audience. Generally only
Kaissa and the songs of skalds can hold their attention for long hours, that and
stories told at the tables. After the entertainers had been driven from the hall
and much food had been eaten, Svein Blue Tooth, who had showed much patience,
said to Ivar Forkbeard, "It is my understanding that you believe yourself to
have that wherewith your deed's wergild might be met." "Perhaps," admitted the
Forkbeard. Svein Blue Tooth's eyes gleamed. He fingered the tooth of the Hunjer
whale, on its golden chain, slung about his neck. "The wergild was high," said
the Blue Tooth. The Forkbeard stood up. "Bring gold and sapphires," said he,
"and bring scales." To the astonishment of all those in the hall, from the side
room, boxes and sacks of gold were brought forth by the Forkbeard's men, and,
too, a large, heavy sack of leather, filled with tiny objects. Men left the back
tables; men crowded about; even the thralls and the bond-maids, astonished,
disbelieving, crowded near. "Room! Make room here!" called the Forkbeard. For
more than two Ahn gold was weighed, on two pairs of scales, one furnished by the
Forkbeard, the other by the house of Svein Blue Tooth. To my relief the scales,
alrnost perfectly, agreed. The gold accumulated. The eyes of Svein Blue Tooth
and Bera, narrow, shining, were filled with pleasure. "There is forty weight of
gold here,' said Svein Blue Tooth's man, almost as though he could not believe
it, "four hundred stone of gold." There was a gasp from the throng. The
Forkbeard then went to the heavy leather sack and ripping the leather away at
its throat, poured onto the dirt, lustrous, scintillating, a shower of jewels,
mostly a deep blue, but some were purple, and other white and yellow, the carved
sapphires of Schendi, each in the shape of a tiny panther. "Aiii!" cried the
throng. Svein Blue Tooth leaned forward, his fists clenched. Bera, her eyes
blazing could not speak. The Forkbeard shook his sack further. More jewels fell
forth, some among them more unusual varieties of sapphire, pale pink, orange,
violet, brown and even green. "Ah," cried the throng. "How beautiful!" cried a
bondmaid, who did not, herself, own even her collar of iron. "Weigh them," said
the Forkbeard. I had not, myself, realized there were so many varieties of
sapphires. Until this time I had been familiar only with the bluish stones. I
had little doubt, however, that the stones were genuine. Chenbar, the Sea Sleen,
would have insisted on the fee for his rescue being paid in genuine stones, as a
matter of pride. Too, the Forkbeard, in dealing with his Jarl, Svein Blue Tooth,
would not use false stones. He would be above that. It is one thing to cheat one
not of Torvaldsland, quite another to attempt to defraud one of one's own
country, particularly one's Jarl. I had no doubt that the spilled glory heaped
gleaming in the dirt of the hall of Svein Blue Tooth was what it seemed, true
stones, and an incredible treasure. The jewels, like the gold, were patient
ly
weighed. There were many exclamations from the warriors present, and others in
the throng. The weight of the stones was more than that of a full-grown man.
Ivar Forkbeard stood behind these riches, and grinned, and spread his hands. "I
did not think there were such riches in all of Torvaldsland," whispered Bera.
Svein Blue Tooth was much impressed. He could scarcely speak. With such riches
there would be no Jarl in Torvaldsland who could even remotely compare to him.
His power would be the equal of that of a Ubar of the south. But the men of
Torvaldsland are not easily pleased. The Blue Tooth leaned back. "There was,
Forkbeard," said he, smiling, "a third condition to the wergild." "Oh, my Jarl?"
asked Ivar. "It seems I must keep this treasure," said he, "and you remain
outlaw. It may, however, count as the first two installments of a completed
transaction. I shall revoke your outlawry when, and only when, too, you deliver
to me the daughter of my enemy, Thorgard of Scagnar." The Blue Tooth's men, not
pleased, murmured angrily. "The Forkbeard, surely, has more than paid wergild,"
cried one. "What man has been set such a price and has paid it?" cried another.
"Silence!" cried Svein Blue Tooth, standing behind the table. He scowled at his
men. "No one, not an army or a fleet," cried another, "could take the daughter
of so powerful a Jarl as Thorgard of Scagnar!" "You seem to ask the impossible,
my Jarl," observed Ivar Forkbeard. "I do ask the impossible," said Svein Blue
Tooth. "Of you, my friend, Ivar Forkbeard, I choose to ask the irnpossible." The
Forkbeard's men muttered angrily. Weapons were grasped. Even the men of Svein
Blue Tooth, perhaps a thousand in the hall, were angry. Yet the Blue Tooth,
boldly, their Jarl, matched his will to theirs. Which one of them would dare to
challenge the will of their Jarl? I admired the Blue Tooth in his way. He was
courageous. In the final analysis, I had little doubt that his men would abide
by his decision. The Blue Tooth sat down again in the high seat. "Yes, friend
Forkbeard," said he, "of you, as is my right, I ask what cannot be done, the
impossible." The Forkbeard turned and, facing the entrance of the hall, called
out, "Bring forth the female." There was no sound in the great hall, save the
Norman, John - Gor 09 - Marauders of Gor.txt Page 25
