Harald made no answer at once. He had heard enough of Kalf Arnason to realize the man would be no friend to any king, even one who pardoned him. Had he, Harald Hardrede, cut down one Einar Thambaskelfir, at God knew what cost each night he sought sleep, only to raise another?
But . . .
"Yes," he said. "You shall have that reward."
"We will get witnesses and handsel the bargain," said Finn. It hurt Harald a little that the chief trusted him no more than that, but he nodded. Finn cleared his throat. "But what shall I offer Haakon to get him to swear peace with you? For his yea or nay will decide the matter."
"First hear what he wants," said Harald. "Then press my case as best you are able, and in the end deny him nothing short of the kingdom."
The same day Finn gathered his men and went into Nidharos, while Harald proceeded southward to Mori. There he got help from Thorberg Arnason and other chiefs, until he had a goodly host again at his back.
Haakon Ivarsson lived in Raumariki, a short two days' ride from the Oslofjord; here the Uplands rose steeply, and his garth sat on the flank of a hill plunging down toward thick forest. It was a cold, gusty day in early fall when he received his guests; the woods and meadows were sallow, the sloping fields stubbled dry gold under a wan sky and a bright heatless sun. Cloud shadows hurried across the land; storks and geese and lesser birds were southbound by the clamorous thousands. The steading, long timber buildings around three sides of a paved courtyard, huddled dark on the hillside. Smoke whipped from the roofs. The housefolk were at work, men threshing in the barn, women weaving, salting, smoking, and cooking. One of them saw a large party wend up the road and shouted. The men dropped their work to pick up weapons, but Haakon went into the main house and donned good clothes. He had been expecting this visit, since a messenger arrived a few days ago.
He came out as the troop rode into the courtyard and lowered his spear when he recognized them. He was a tall young man, lithely built, with high cheekbones and an uptilted nose. Curly light hair blew around his long skull, but save for a wheaten-colored mustache the face was clean shaven and the chin jutted stubbornly. His eyes were big and gray, set wide apart between lashes a woman might envy. He wore rich dress: a white shirt, a velvet doublet from England, blue breeches of fine linen, a flame-red silken cloak clasped with a golden brooch; but the hand holding his spear was muscular.
"Good day to you, kinsmen, and welcome," he said.
Finn Arnason reined in his horse and dismounted heavily. Orm Eilifsson, the Upland jarl and Finn's son-in-law, joined him, a grave and stately man nearing middle age. They were followed by almost a hundred warriors, as befitted their dignity, but were not themselves armored.
"It's good to see you again, Haakon," said Finn. "I'd hoped that a happier occasion might have brought about this meeting."
Haakon frowned, but led them inside with due courtesy. They drank together and talked of small things. Yet their minds were not on it, and Haakon soon broke out roughly:
"I know you're here on an errand. Shall we settle that at once, before the evening meal?"
"Yes, perhaps we'd best do so." Orm nodded.
Haakon took them into the foreroom where they could talk privately and waved them into chairs. He himself sat at the edge of his, turning his beaker between ring-bedecked fingers.
"Well, now," said Finn, "I suppose you've guessed we are here to make peace between you and the king."
"That will be hard work," replied Haakon in a mumble.
"I am not one to take up a cause lightly," went on Finn, "but in this I've toiled, for it seems on the whole good. I went into Nidharos and addressed the townfolk, asking them to weigh what they did ere rising against their lord. I reminded them of what they suffered when they behaved thus toward holy King Olaf, and I laid before them Harald's offer of full weregild for this killing, as determined by men of wisdom. They finally agreed to let the matter rest until Bergljot's messengers to you had returned."
"Aye," said Haakon, "those men are still here. I was about to send them back with war word when your message came; but I only waited out of respect for you two."
' 'What I said to the Thronds could also be said to you," Finn told him. "Einar and Eindridhi were not altogether foully murdered. They had given some cause when they broke the peace at the Thing and set the law aside for one man. Now the king offers you atonement."
Haakon sprang to his feet and paced. A lynx light flared in his eyes, and he said thickly: "I care not for haggling over rights and wrongs. It's enough that the wrong is mostly Harald Hardrede's—not only this slaying of an old and honored man and the man's son, but all the harshness and greed we've had to take from him." He stopped, fists clenched at his side. "Before God, Einar and Eindridhi were my own kin. Eindridhi was my dear friend. Their ghosts would shriek were I to take money for their blood."
"And would you tear the land asunder?" asked Orm.
"It need not be so." Haakon clipped his words off, one by one. "You know the Thronds and the Uplanders will be with me if I but lead them. Harald can be fed to the fish. That devil needs no better grave."
"Still," said Orm, "the Southern shires will aid him. And it would be strange if Svein Estridhsson took not the chance to avenge himself on us while we lay at each other's throats."
"There are worse men than Svein," said Haakon. "From what I hear, he reigns as well as one could expect."
"If the Danes are to come back, they must cross my body first," swore Finn. "Who else could be king if Harald fell? His brothers are worthy men, but unfitted for such a task. They'd refuse the honor were it offered them. The only other Yngling left is a baby, Magnus Haraldsson."
"If we must have him, we can name some chief as regent."
"And when he grows up? That's a revengeful breed, Haakon."
"Then wipe out the whole accursed nest of them!" spat the younger man.
Orm crossed himself. "An evil thought, killing a helpless child. No luck would come of such a deed. And a land without a king of the God-appointed house will lie under heaven's wrath."
"They do well in Iceland," said Haakon.
"But Iceland is walled in by sea. And even there, it's one family feud after another, till someday they wreck themselves. We've hungry neighbors."
Haakon stood unhappily, his eyes on the floor.
Finn got up and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Think well, my friend," he said. "You know I'm no bootlicker, nor is Orm Jarl; we only seek that which is best for the land. Any man can work crime in a hasty moment, and Christ has told us to forgive those who use us ill."
"When I wish to hear such talk, I'll go to a priest," said Haakon.
"Well, then, think what is best for yourself and your own family. Harald has made a fair offer of atonement; you can well-nigh set the terms yourself. Surely you'd be wiser to take what honor you wish from the king, without battle, than venture into strife with your lawful lord—a strife in which the chances say you would buckle under. If you lose, you forfeit peace and all you own, belike your very life; and if you should win, for the rest of your days you'd have the name of one who betrayed his rightful king."
"Yes," rumbled Orm. "Finn speaks truth. We are here more as your friends, Haakon, than as Harald's."
"Bethink what you want of him," urged Finn. "No man can say you deserted your cause, if you get proper amends."
"By thus strengthening yourself," added Orm, "you'll be able to shield your folk from greater trouble; but in open war, their homes would lie defenseless."
Haakon did not speak for a while, then: "I'll think on it. Say no more now."
He took them back into the main chamber, where they again talked of indifferent matters until evening. The drinking that night was not cheerful, and everybody soon went to bed.
In the morning, Haakon's eyes were dark rimmed; he had not slept much. But he went firmly to Orm and Finn, and bade them come into the foreroom.
The sheriff's gnarled hands gripped his knees as he sat down. "Well
?" he asked. "What is your word?"
Haakon stared at them unblinking. His voice was flat. "I'll make peace with King Harald if he'll give me his kinswoman Ragnhild, the daughter of Magnus the Good, in marriage, with a suitable dowry which she herself shall name."
"The girl's but a child," said Orm.
Haakon gestured impatiently. "I know. The wedding can wait awhile, so the betrothal be sworn now. You said yesterday, you two, that I'd be wisest to strengthen my house, and I can see no better way than by marrying into the royal family and gaining the lands she'll bring with her."
Finn gusted a great sigh, and smiled happily. "I can promise you as much on the king's behalf," he said.
Now they rode together with witnesses to the nearest church, where they swore to the agreement on holy relics. Afterward Haakon gave a feast to which he invited the entire district; it lasted some days, and the only guests not merry were the messengers of the widow Bergljot.
3
A short time afterward, Haakon rode with a troop of men north to Nidharos, where the king had returned after peace was made. That was a long journey, wet and cold, the first snow hissing about their ears and a wolf of a wind screaming as they crossed the Dofra Fell; but Haakon thought little of any weather and was eager to see his promised bride. When they reached the royal hall, the steward hastened to tell his master, and Harald came out to meet them.
Haakon looked hard at the king, as if to see Cain's mark on his brow. But while the man who towered above others was not handsome, he was not ill-favored either. His hair was thick and dark yellow, combed to the shoulders. He wore his beard cropped close under a heavy mustache above which sat his long straight nose. The eyes were big and ice blue. The high left brow gave him a slightly mocking appearance; however, his face was set in grave lines and his greeting was mild. "Come, be my guests for as long as you choose, you and your followers."
Haakon made a pleasant answer and dismounted. When he had used the bathhouse and changed his muddy clothes, a house carle led him into the hall, where he strode up to the high seat. Harald looked down at him and gestured to the place of honor at his right. "Do you sit here, Haakon Ivarsson," he said. "And take this of me as token of my regard." He gave him a sword with gold-inlaid hilt and scabbard, a sable-trimmed cloak, and a diamond finger ring. "The ring I bore from Syria," he added, "and I think it must have a long story behind it."
"I thank you, my lord," said Haakon, trying not to bristle.
"It's naught. I wished but to show friendship.
For my part, I shall hold to the bargain Finn Arnason made on my behalf."
"That is . . . well done," said Haakon.
Harald cocked his brow; the firelight threw the wrinkles which appeared across his forehead into gullies of shadow. "However," he went on, "though I support your case, you must yourself talk to Ragnhild Magnusdottir and win her consent. She's a spirited lass, I hear, and it would not be well for you or anyone else to get Ragnhild against her will."
Haakon swallowed. "My lord . . ."
Harald grinned ruefully. "First they call me tyrant for compelling folk to do this or that; now must I be called cheat for giving them their freedom? Come, Haakon, you're a rich and good-looking man, surely you can do your own courting! I've sent word to Ragnhild of the bargain, and urged her to agree."
"Well, then," muttered Haakon, "we shall see how it goes."
Harald turned the talk elsewhere. He got on to the matter of foreign lands and began telling of his own adventures abroad. Despite his resolve, Haakon found himself listening till Miklagardh the Golden almost stood before his eyes.
Till far into the night, Harald spun tales, and Haakon went to the shut bed lent him with his head awhirl. It was hard to remember that he hated this man. . . . No, wait, they were reconciled now, were they not? Half sitting in the short, lightless space, the straw rustling beneath him from his restlessness, he tried to find sleep.
The next day he dressed carefully and rode with a few attendants bearing gifts, through wintry streets to the home of Ragnhild's foster parents. They were wealthy tradespeople and landowners, of good birth, and their town house was big and brightly painted. The man greeted Haakon well and led him inside, where the princess waited.
She was about twelve years old now. Her father had not been much older when he begot her; a yeoman's handsome young daughter, a few sweet wild weeks, and then Magnus had gone storming elsewhere and the mother had wed a rich oldster and finally died. Ragnhild was tall for her age; womanhood was just beginning to bloom in her. She had a slim coltish look, half awkward and half endearing grace, which Haakon liked. Long brown hair was garlanded over a pert face. Her blue eyes were set under arched brows, her nose was thin with winged nostrils and below it her red lips bowed outward, supported by a strong chin. She greeted him haughtily.
"I have come to speak of betrothal, my lady," said Haakon. He felt his uncouth manners. His life had been passed in lonely garths and outland warring with no chance to learn polished airs. There was a hotness in his cheeks, his temples pounded, as he went on: "Your royal kinsman has told you of my wishes, and you know I am a wealthy and honorable man."
He signaled to his carles, who brought forth his gifts: rings, clothing, gold, jewels. She hardly looked at them. Her foster father coughed.
Haakon's shirt seemed tight at the neck, but he went on doggedly: "My kin were ever friends of your father, and you can be sure we will gladly give you the dignity you deserve. King Harald has offered you any dowry you may name, and my morning gift shall not be niggardly. And ... I think we would be happy together, my lady."
The girl flushed, but her voice was cold and even, bespeaking rehearsal, as she replied, "I have often to feel that my father, King Magnus, is dead, and never more than now, if I must be forced to marry a yeoman"—with a gentler note—"even if you are a handsome man and seem to be more able than most. Had King Magnus lived, he would not have wed me to anyone less than a king, and even now it can't be awaited that I'll pledge myself to a man of no rank above sheriff."
Haakon stood quiet, feeling anger in his throat. The older man started some nervous chatter about childish whims, but Ragnhild's gaze was defiant. Haakon cut him off sharply: "As you will, my lady. I shall talk to the king about that."
The girl smiled. "You have the soul of a jarl," she said; "now become one, and you shall have a better answer from me."
Haakon took his leave and rode at a reckless pace back to the king's hall. He could not find it in his heart to blame Ragnhild. By Olaf, what a mother she would be, what a brood of warriors she would raise! Jarl in Norway! The thought made him dizzy.
As he came into the hall, he saw that Finn Arnason sat by Harald, with several of his men. The sheriff peered at the newcomer, who was wiping snow off his boots. "Is it you, Haakon?" he asked. "The king sent me word you were here, and I came to bid you welcome."
Almost, Haakon swaggered as he went to the high seat. This time he must sit on the bench below, but that was nothing. A woman hurried to bring him a horn of warm, spiced ale, and Finn raised his own drink to pledge him.
"Well?" drawled Harald. "How went your wooing, friend?"
Haakon searched his words carefully. "My lord," he said, "you swore that the princess could name her own dowry. These men here are witnesses to that oath."
"Yes, yes." Harald sounded impatient, but his face was wooden. "If the gift is mine to give, she shall have it."
"Well, then ... my lord, she said she would not marry a man without rank or title." Haakon blurted his words, running to meet fate as if it were an armed foeman. "That was well spoken of her, one can see what house she comes from, and in truth it were ill to wed her to a mere yeoman when her father was a king. Now if she'll not marry a man without rank, I can think of no other way than that you give me the name and power of jarl. I've high enough birth, and more."
A hush fell. Finn retreated into the same blankness that sat on the king. The other men, down the benches, did not stir. The serv
ing maids crept back into the corners. The fires alone spoke, dancing and crackling through the chill gloom of the hall.
Harald spoke at last, looking straight ahead of him. "When my brother King Olaf and his son King Magnus steered the realm, they were content to have one jarl at a time in this land; the same have I done since I became king, and I don't now intend to rob Orm Jarl of the dignity I've given him."
Haakon could make no reply. He felt suddenly lamed, and the blood drained from his face and hands.
Finn spoke: "Bethink you, King. You swore to do what you could."
"I had in mind estates, gold ... a dowry for the woman, not power for the man." Harald swung his head from one to the other; it was clear he was angry. "Orm Eilifsson was ever my friend. How shall I keep any friends if they cannot trust me?"
Finn's hand smacked down on the arm of his seat. His face a mask of wrath, he roared: "Who the devil can trust you, Harald Hardrede? Was this fair speaking naught but another of your treacherous schemes? You got the league against you broken, and now when you feel safe again you will not keep your pledged word!"
"Bait me not," snapped Harald. "I'll suffer much from those who've helped me, but there are bounds." He dropped his tone, saying urgently: "Perhaps the maiden will reconsider. I can press your suit, Haakon, and show her how it's no disgrace to wed an honest chieftain. Or perhaps, failing that, you would like something else of me—gold, land, a high place in the guard. ..."
Haakon found voice, though a fire leaped in his breast and misted his eyes. "I'll be no man's kept hound!" he yelled. He jumped from his seat to the floor. "Least of all will I serve a king who breaks his own oaths!"
"I've not done that," said Harald in a rage, "and unless you crave my pardon for saying so, it will go ill with you. These words of yours show how little you and your sort can be trusted . . . and I should raise you to the second rank in the land? Wealth and honor you shall have, as I promised, but I'm not fool enough to give you strength you'll use to my undoing. Now, then, shall we talk this over like honest men, or admit you are my foe?"
The Road of the Sea Horse Page 11
