by Jason Born
While Olaf drank from the cup, Skialgr answered back, “Good King Olaf, we are pleased with your return and we are anxious to show you our new church to worship the One God.” We had Crevan to help us understand the One God, but these people were left on their own to worship. I wondered what they did at their masses or how they knew what to say or when to say it.
Olaf interrupted my thoughts with a rumbling belch and slapped the cup back on the plate held in Skialgr’s hands. He promptly said, “Let’s see this church of yours.” Skialgr handed the tray to a woman and the elders led us up a well-worn path which curved through the grasses. The gap toothed man looked at me as we walked and complimented me on my medallion. I grunted a thanks and let Olaf continue his discussion with the handsome one. “So how do your people receive the faith?”
“Well, lord. They receive it well,” was Skialgr’s swift reply.
“That is wonderful news. Have I told you it is my duty to unite Norway under the One True God?”
“Oh, yes lord. We know it is your mission to bring us from our heathen ways into the brotherhood of . . .” Skialgr’s voice trailed off at the end.
“Christ! Lord. Christ is what Skialgr the Fair was going to say,” spoke the wired haired one for the first time. Skialgr gave his fellow elder a look of thanks for coming to his aide in remembering the name of their new God. Vigi’s head popped up and tilted to the side. He sprang off the path and scared a black grouse that was hidden in a boggy area. The bird flapped mightily to escape, leaving a few of his black feathers floating in the air behind him, but was not fast enough. Vigi snapped his jaws around the bird’s neck, making a distinct popping sound. Vigi brought the grouse back to Olaf who crouched down to receive it. He wrapped his hand about the bird’s head, covering the bright red waddle and stood holding the bird at arm’s length to admire it. It had a lyre-shaped tail and a white wing bar. Other than that, its plumage was distinctly black. Olaf handed the bird to gap-tooth and told him it would make a fine supper for him that night. We continued on with the man carrying the bird and Vigi looking proud next to his master.
We entered the village from the western end. It had a single street down the center with about fifteen rather shabby homes along each side. At the east end of the muddy street was a bigger structure that served as a meeting hall. Men and boys worked with plows in the fields to the south of the village. Some men carried sacks slung crossways from one shoulder to the waist and repeatedly reached in to pull out another handful of seed in order to broadcast it onto the awaiting soil. Women worked near their houses feeding chickens while dirty children ran barefoot engaged in one game or another. There were no thralls that I could see. This village was much too poor for anyone to afford such an extravagant prize.
Our group approached the hall and I finally saw the church. It was northeast, on a small rise halfway between the village and a woods. It was as big as the hall; it was simple, but the nicest structure in the town. The church was tall and narrow with one peaked roof that went from the peak nearly to the ground. From the end it looked like a Latin letter A. The roof was not thatch, but had thin wooden shingles overlapping to keep the weather running down in the right direction. Olaf took one look and slapped Skialgr’s back and gave him an approving nod. For his part, Skialgr gave an audible sigh of relief. Olaf made a sweeping gesture with his hand and said, “Assemble the entire village in the church. We’ll hold a mass before breaking for the mid-day meal.” The three elders bowed slightly and went to gather up their people. Gap-tooth found the nearest woman and handed off the grouse.
Olaf enthusiastically led us up the rise to the new church. A female black grouse somewhere near the woods gave its noticeable cackling call. She would be disappointed today since a king would feast on her mate that night. Olaf barged into the church through its too-short front door made of wood planks. Einar and Cnute followed him in, but I held back a moment and looked to the sea. The rise was just tall enough to see our ships anchored in the small harbor or laying on the shore. The fleet was quiet with many men catching a nap except for the few idle sentries posted along the shingle or on their ships. Townsfolk were already making their way toward the still-foreign house of worship. Most of the villagers carried a disgusted look that indicated how they felt about being interrupted from their daily chores to worship a God they didn’t understand.
I turned and took the one step up to enter the church ahead of them. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the relative dark inside. When they had done so, I saw that the men of the village did a fine job building the church. Great square posts lined each of the long walls and reached to the height of three men. The posts supported beams which ran the length of the building and further supported the roof and rafters that formed the peak. Not a single track of light showed through the roof as proof of the craftsmanship. The far end, where a priest would stand if one would ever come to this island, held an impressive array of woodwork including carved arches and latticework. Tight fitting wood planks provided for a raised floor, keeping us out of the muck. The king’s hall did not even have a raised floor! I heard a rustling made by lemmings beneath the floor boards. Two of the creatures were probably down there mating, getting ready to start the next great lemming population explosion that occurred every few years.
The church was filling now and soon Olaf looked to Skialgr and asked if everyone was present to which he answered yes. Olaf stood at the far end and was hard to see. The only light was provided by the small open door and that was interrupted by all the bodies standing inside. Olaf started his remarks saying something about the honor the people of Most had given to him and to God with the church. His talk was preempted, however, by a faint song echoing across the village and into the door. Olaf stopped speaking and gave a confused look down at Skialgr, who winced as if in pain. Gap-tooth and Wire-hair gritted their teeth and gave worried glances to one another. Olaf said calmly, “Halldorr, see that whoever that man is out there, that he comes to my mass.” People in the church tried to make a way for me, but it was packed and so I had to push my way through to the door.
I stooped to exit into the light which seemed exceptional because of the dark inside. The song was louder out here, but not nearby. It came from across the village from the fields to the south. One of the men who was broadcasting seed earlier, continued to do so. From that distance, he looked to be about my age or a little older. He sang a song, an old song to the god Frey asking him to sail his magical ship, Skidbladnr, this season and bring the right amount of sun, rain, and wind to grow his crops. I knew why the men inside winced and I made a similar face as I walked to talk to the man. Olaf would not be happy.
I stopped at the edge of the sod to avoid getting my boots filthy in the damp, tilled earth and waited as the man cast the seed before him. From the seed lying on the ground from his last pass, I could see that he planted rye. He still sang and seemed oblivious to my presence. He was my age and strong. He was very handsome with pale yellow hair and bright blue eyes. Rye from his hand pelted my boots and he turned to walk in the other direction. I said, “You need to put your seed down and come to the church.”
He paused his song just long enough to say, “I am putting my seed down as I have done for many years.” Then he continued on walking away from me planting his field and singing to the old god Frey. I knew the song because I had sung it my whole life when planting too. We all had sung it. Now was not the time to sing to the old gods when Olaf the King was trying to say a mass in the church.
I huffed and skirted the field, shadowing his moves. “Listen,” I said. “You need to stop this now. Olaf is the king and wants us all to worship the One God. What you do when he is not here is your business.” I tried to compromise. “Just come to the church.”
He kept up his work and said, “My fathers have worshipped the old gods for generations and they’ve brought us good luck. I think I’ll continue to do so. By the way, I went to the service held in the king’s tent last year when he was h
ere. That was enough.”
I was getting frustrated and that meant that Olaf would be livid. I marched into the field straight at the man and grabbed his right arm as it finished its arc. The man jerked it out of my grasp and went about his planting. He took two more steps away and I drew my sword, gave it a short toss and held it blade up with the pommel away from my thumb. I saw the man Jonah, inside the whale, flash before my eyes on the blade and brought the heavy pommel down on the sower’s head. He crumpled to the ground spilling rye in a pile in the field.
I hefted the man to my shoulder and carried him all the way across the fields, village, and up the hillside to the church. At first my boots were heavy from the caked soil but by the time I made it to the church the dirt had worn off. I had to duck and tilt to get us both inside the church door. A woman’s voice gasped when she saw us enter. I pushed through the crowd and dropped the man in a heap on the floor at Olaf’s feet, telling the king he was broadcasting seed. Olaf was thinking of what to do when Einar joked, “My lord, this one is a pious one. Look at the way he lays prostrate.” Skialgr gave a nervous chuckle.
Olaf glanced at the handsome old man, then back to the heap on the floor and took the toe of one boot and rolled the man over. The king compared the unconscious man to Skialgr, looking back and forth and finally asked, “He’s your son?”
The old man tipped his head in shame and said, “He is my son, lord. His name is Erling. We tried to get him to come to our new church, but he refused.”
Olaf said, “If the son of a town elder will not come, how can you expect others to come. Why didn’t you punish him?”
“Lord, please give us time with the new faith. We need time to convince him.” Skialgr was overtly nervous in his pleading.
“Uh huh,” was Olaf’s reply. “Cnute, wake the man.” Cnute took his skin of water and emptied it onto Erling’s face. His eyes began to flutter. “Stretch his arms out and stand on his wrists men,” Olaf ordered. Cnute kicked an arm out wide and stepped on his left wrist and Einar did likewise to Erling’s right. Olaf knelt down nearly sitting on Erling’s chest and slapped him hard on the cheek. His eyes flew open wide in confusion. Olaf asked him, “What song were you singing outside?”
Erling suddenly realized where he was and said defiantly, “I was singing to Frey for a bountiful year!” Skialgr gasped. A lone woman’s voice pleaded for mercy from the middle of the congregation.
“Oh yes, a fine song I’m sure. I sang to Frey many times in my life. What hand do you use to plant your seed?” said Olaf in a cheerful tone. When Erling didn’t answer Olaf repeated to the question to Skialgr.
Skialgr bowed his head in a defeated gesture and whispered, “His right, lord.”
Without waiting a moment, Olaf called, “Halldorr remove the fingers of this man’s right hand.” Another shriek from women rose from the crowd. I briefly worried that the four of us were cornered by seventy-five people, but decided they were unlikely to attack mailed, seasoned warriors. I pulled my saex and bent down to Erling’s right hand. He had bunched his fingers into a fist so I had to force one out and step on the end. I carefully placed the curved tip of the one-edged blade against the innermost knuckle and looked back to Olaf. He looked back to me impatiently and said, “Now!” I pushed and wiggled the blade down into the joint, separating the finger from the hand. Erling screamed a terrible scream. Tears streamed from the outside corners of his frightened eyes and his head shook violently. His screaming must have frightened the lemmings, because as soon as it started the rustling beneath my feet ceased. I peeled open another finger and stood on its end and again paused to look at Olaf. “All of them Halldorr!” he shouted. It went this way one by one. Erling kicked his feet and tried to lift Olaf off his chest. He passed out on the fourth finger and Olaf showed compassion saying, “That’s enough.”
We all stepped away from Erling. He lay still quietly breathing with a coagulating pool of blood at his outstretched right hand. Olaf looked at me and quietly said, “Bandage his hand.” I knelt, cleaned my blade on his shirt, and tucked it into my belt. While I applied a cloth wrap from my pack to his hand Olaf resumed his talk and completed his mass to the astonished residents.
That night Olaf feasted on his grouse while we ate a lamb the town had butchered and prepared for Olaf’s commanders and royal guards. The rest of our army stayed on the ships eating dried fish. Olaf laughed and told stories as he sat among villagers. He seemed to have forgotten completely about the drama that unfolded in the church. Skialgr, Wire-hair, and Gap-tooth all sat around the king in their meeting hall talking and sharing ale. Erling sat in a corner by himself staring at us with visible hatred. If any of the villagers felt sympathy toward him, they didn’t dare show it that night out of fear. After consuming too much meat and drink, we stumbled down to the ships and slept the night away.
The three elders were the only villagers seeing us off the next morning. They brought no parting gift for Olaf, but talked pleasantly to the king on the shore while gulls attacked the remnants of the men’s feast of the night before. When the tide was getting high enough to lift us from the shingle Olaf and Vigi scampered on board. As an afterthought Olaf leaned from the stern and called to the three old leaders and left Most with a promise to send a proper priest to run the church so that the elders could concentrate on managing their town. I heard a distinct curse uttered from the shore, which, if Olaf heard, he ignored.
We worked our way south to Vik with little trouble. In fact, except for several forced conversions, we spent much of the summer in the Vik with little worries. Eventually I became quite bored. Olaf was welcomed with great affection when we landed and much of his kindred came to greet him at the shore. He immediately called for a private meeting with his uncle and step-brothers, who remained influential in the area. Olaf promised them he would make them great and powerful men in greater Norway if they agreed to become Christians and to encourage their people to do the same. This proposal, they accepted wholeheartedly so Olaf called a hastily organized Thing where the orchestrated plan was set in motion. After a short speech telling of his duty to spread the faith and of the new faith’s virtues, Olaf asked if anyone would convert. His uncle and step-brothers gave vocal endorsements, agreeing to change their faith. Since they were known in the region and were among the most powerful, the rest of the people followed their example and so Olaf converted another group en masse – without any bloodshed.
The northern reaches of Vik were where we had the most activity. Olaf demanded that some men who would not accept the new faith be killed as a warning to others. On his orders I killed four unarmed, harmless men that summer and one old woman.
One northern chieftain named Raud was brought before Olaf, and according to the king, began spouting blasphemy. I didn’t know what that meant and I’m not sure Olaf did either. Yet, Olaf had Cnute tie Raud with his back to a pole and also had him force a hollow wooden block into his mouth. Olaf shouted at the man to renounce the old gods, but he shook his head in refusal to which the king told the man he would die a most miserable death. He sent Einar and me looking in marshes for what’s called a grass snake or water snake. We soon found a large one of these nonvenomous snakes, about four feet in length, and brought it to Olaf. He used a hot iron to drive the snake into Raud’s open mouth and the snake slithered all the way down into his belly. I watched in horror as the snake writhed inside the man’s stomach torturing him with multiple bites. On at least two occasions we saw the fangs protruding outside through the skin of Raud’s belly. Raud screamed terribly and eventually passed out. Olaf left him tied to the post where he died over the next night and day. We took all Raud’s gold, silver, and weapons. Despite our heavy hand, several more of Raud’s men had to be killed before the rest agreed to baptism.
I maimed eight more men that summer by removing fingers, hands, or otherwise scarring them badly. We also had to drive an entire clan from Vik, by burning their village and leaving a small force of men to ensure they didn’t return
.
Any travel we did outside Vik was to meet jarls and convert new disciples. At countless Things men were eagerly agreeing to support Olaf’s kingdom and the new faith. Whether it was out of exasperation of Haakon, fear of Olaf, or true acceptance I did not know. We were so successful that areas that had fallen under the control of Olaf’s old ally, Sweyn Forkbeard of Denmark, during Haakon’s reign, swore allegiance to Olaf. When I suggested that Sweyn may retaliate, Olaf waved off the thought saying, “We’ve made that drunk bastard rich! He’ll have to look the other way while I reclaim Norway for Norsemen or he’ll find his Danes suffering under Norse blades!” I did not necessarily agree that Sweyn would look the other way, but of late had learned to hold my tongue with Olaf. As king he didn’t appreciate my openness the way he once did as a raiding warrior. I also did not agree when he decided we would winter in Vik rather than returning to Kaupangen. I again held my tongue.
As the summer waned, my official duties became limited. Except for the occasional letter Olaf had me write to his Christian Brother and close friend, Aethelred of England, I was idle. At first I reveled in my boredom and looked forward to waking to another day of fishing, or sailing, or hunting. I caught cod, pollack, trout, and salmon. I killed two brown bears, many reindeer, and one lynx that summer. But, we fished a lot, sailed a lot, and hunted a lot; so much of each that eventually I lay on board Serpent longer and longer in the morning until the sun was quite high before I decided to stir.
