Ambrose, Prince of Wessex; Trader of Kiev.

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Ambrose, Prince of Wessex; Trader of Kiev. Page 12

by Bruce Corbett


  "My friends, your story is safe with me. You may stay here for as long as you wish, and you have only to ask for anything that you may want. I have already so instructed the servants."

  Ambrose frowned, and spoke softly. "Jarl Gunnar, we do not seek to hide here from anyone. I had hoped, as Canute told me of your vast commercial interests, that we might be of use to you in some capacity, so that we can earn our keep."

  "Nobly spoken, Canuteson', responded Gunnar.' If I was in your situation, I would feel the same way. How say you to employment in my company?"

  Smiles of relief crossed the faces of all three companions, and any lingering tension in the air was released almost audibly. Ambrose nodded assent for all three.

  "I always have need of young, intelligent factors and managers. How say you, Canuteson, to training in the field of commerce? Mind,' he interjected quickly, 'You will get no special treatment, but must pull your weight with the other trainees."

  "Agreed, Jarl," smiled Ambrose.

  "Polonius, I have urgent need of a scribe who can read and write the Byzantine tongue. Know you ought of the Latin, German, Frankish, or Slavic tongues?"

  "In truth, my lord', answered Polonius, 'I read and write Greek and Latin as well as any. I can speak Frankish as a native, but can write in it only reasonably well. German I can speak somewhat, but know not the skill of writing in it. Of Slavic, I regret I know relatively little."

  "Ho, you're a catch, even so, and it is a stroke of luck that I hire you now, for my tribesman, the Rus, are right now planning to strengthen trading routes down the great inland rivers as far as Byzantium itself.

  Phillip, I ask only of you that you guard these two well, and insure that no harm comes to them."

  "I will protect them with my life, Jarl Gunnar."

  Time passed rapidly for the three of them, for each day was exceedingly busy. Much was expected. After a long day in the trading offices of Gunnar, the Rus jarl would often ask them to visit various commercial establishments of his in the town.

  The first time the three of them accompanied Gunnar to the public docks, Ambrose was awed with the number of ships. The port appeared to be almost as busy as Wyk te Duurstede, which he only remembered as in a dream. Ships of all sizes and types were in the process of arriving, or leaving, or were tied securely to the docks.

  The bay swarmed with fishing boats and a multitude of coasting vessels. In amongst the knarrs and karves, lean and hungry-looking long-ships floated serenely. Most impressive to Ambrose, however, was the small fleet of dragon ships. Towering over the long-ships and even the high-sided knarrs, the mighty warships personified the maritime power of the Rus.

  "Jarl Gunnar,' asked Ambrose, 'how is it that the Rus lands can support so much trade?"

  "An astute question, Canuteson. The answer lies in the strength of Rus and Swede sea power. Not for nothing is this sea called the Viking Sea. As the entrance is controlled by the Danish isles, foreign pirates are prevented from entering these waters. You must understand, too, the setup of our nation. Unlike Daneland, we have vast areas of land, and yet, as you have seen yourself, much of it, especially in the north, is fit for little except grazing and hunting. We do not have sufficient lands for our children to farm. Thus, we too, like our cousins to the south and west, were forced to take to the sea.

  We have conquered the pagan northern lands, but there is little arable land there. It is good for little except slaving, pelts, and meat.

  Opposite us, on the mainland, are both endless forests and great plains, stretching for hundreds of days' of travel. All along the barbarian coast you will find our colonies and settlements. These colonies absorb most of our excess population. Yet the barbarians who live there are far more numerous than us, and if they ever wanted, could soon push us into the sea. Thus, we act the role of trader and middleman, making ourselves indispensable to them. In this way, we control all the waters of this great sea, and our ships can travel in relative freedom where they choose.'

  Gunnar shrugged. 'Some tribesmen attempt to go a Viking on the waters of the closed sea, but few dare to face our dragon ships.

  I may add, as you probably have realized by now, that if our trade does not seem as exciting as the great ravaging conquests of our cousins the Danes and the Norsemen, yet it is many times more lucrative, and at a much lower price in terms of the blood of our sons."

  One evening, when all three of the companions were able to leave Gunnar's trading factory before dusk, they wandered down towards the wharves to talk with the sailors and imbibe some mead. Looking out through the open portal of a sailor's inn, Phillip saw three long-ships, in formation, sail into the protection of the harbour.

  "Master,' he said to Ambrose. 'Is that pennant flying from the mast not the ensign of Canute's own local Jarl?"

  The trio moved outside the building and looked carefully. Sure enough, all three warships flew the pennant that signified allegiance to the jarl in whose province they had lived in, and subsequently fled.

  Polonius, perhaps the first to recognize the possible significance, spoke first. "Holy mother of God! I pray that this is only a coincidence, but it may well be that this bodes ill for us. I would suggest we return to the sanctuary of Gunnar's house immediately, before those sailors come ashore."

  Matching word to deed, the three returned directly to their rooms at Gunnar's home.

  The next morning, when the trio were preparing to leave for the trading factory, Gunnar himself came to their chambers and tensely asked them to stay in the house for the day, or at least until he returned from a meeting of the town leaders.

  As Hans, the German steward passed their chambers, Ambrose called him in. "Friend Hans, I have but thanks for all that this family has done for us, and yet no one has yet told us why Gunnar so respects the wishes of my adopted father Canute, who is, after all, but a poor farmer and ancient warrior. Gunnar appears unwilling to tell us, and, in my curiosity, I would appreciate knowing."

  "I think I can help you there, honoured sirs. The reason is not a great secret, but it is one that Gunnar finds painful, and thus avoids discussing.

  Some years ago, Gunnar took his long-ship to the southern lands far beyond the Viking Sea. He participated with several Danish ships in a Viking raid on the land of the Franks. The Rus did not normally raid in that direction, and yet the crew was young, and what restrictions are ever upon young warriors intent upon adventures and treasure?

  While the Danish adventurers kept their small fleet together, and made a strongly fortified camp near the mouth of a small Frankish river, the single Rus ship crew remained aloof. They beached their long-ship somewhat further up the river. When dawn broke, a strong force of Franks suddenly attacked the isolated Rus. Using their accursed bows, the Frankish soldiers picked off those Vikings who leapt overboard onto the river flats to try and launch their ship. A hastily improvised skjaldborg on the sands by the ship's side was quickly broken by a furious charge of heavily armoured horsemen. At last, because of the vast difference in numbers, it became obvious that the only chance the Rus had was to flee down the river - and without their vessel. Their only hope of sanctuary was in the camp of their Danish cousins.

  Gunnar was one of the few left who was able to run. They raced madly along the shore, abandoning all their weapons as they ran for their lives. Finally, the soldiers and horsemen had caught all but Gunnar, who in his youth was an excellent runner.

  You must envision it so. When the Danes were woken and called to arms, it was to see a single man running swiftly towards them, with a pack of Frankish jackals yapping at his heel and trying to tear him down.

  To the Danes' everlasting shame, only your adopted father and his young son dared to step forth from the Danish encampment. As they reached the runner's side, four lancers were about to run the Rus down, as Gunnar had fallen to his knees on the sand. Canute's great boar spear split one man's shield and punched him off his horse; dead.

  As Canute leapt to attack the second rider, his
son stepped over Gunnar's body, and raised his shield and axe in valiant defence. Two riders hurled their spears simultaneously, and the boy had a bitter choice. The shield would protect himself, or the stranger, but not both. Without hesitation, he threw his shield to the left to deflect the spear thrown at Gunnar. The other hit fairly, and penetrated his stout metal-plated jerkin as if it were soft doeskin.

  In a berserk fury, Canute split the skull of his second attacker, and then turned on the remaining two. The third he bowled over by launching himself madly through the air and emptying the Frankish saddle.

  The forth, seeing the futility of attacking a berserker, swung his horse about and attempted to flee. Canute's sax, thrown from a distance of almost forty foot-lengths, pierced his back and killed the man.

  Gunnar, when he regained his feet, looked down at the corpse of the boy who had saved his life. Noting the resemblance of the boy to the raging berserker nearby, he broke down and cried like a woman. He lived, while this brave youth, hardly able yet to grow a beard, had died in his stead.

  At that moment, Gunnar swore undying love for Canute. He would have served as body servant if Canute would but accept it. In this strange way, their great friendship developed. It has remained constant over the years in spite of separation by distance. Gunnar would willingly sacrifice his life to protect the adopted son of Canute."

  Late that afternoon, Gunnar returned to the house looking very sober. Quickly he sent Hans to fetch Ambrose, Phillip and Polonius. As they assembled in the great dining hall, Gunnar waved them to seats and spoke.

  "My friends, I fear I bring you only bad news. Our Rus High Chieftain has agreed to honour a Danish request for the capture and return of three escaped slaves. Regretfully, it appears that when you three escaped, one of the sentries, son of a relative of the local jarl, who is in turn distant cousin of the Danish High Chief, had an arm severely slashed.

  The family will not settle for wergeld, but insists that the three slaves be returned for mutilation and death. One slave's return is also demanded as his life is sworn to Odin. Of course, my master cannot refuse such a request, and so has signed his name to the warrant.

  Gunnar held up his hand for silence even as the trio, stunned, started to talk amongst themselves. "Friends, before you discuss any future actions, it behooves me to mention a plan I have been considering for some time."

  Suddenly a momentary smile crossed his face. "It seems to me that you may have a renewed interest in travelling. You may thus find my offer irresistible. As I mentioned some time ago, many of our trading expeditions are along the great rivers of the vast land south and east of the Viking Sea. Our agents have actually made contact as far south as the Byzantine Empire, and we would, of course, like to develop a direct trading route from the Viking Sea all the way to the Bosporus. Furs, slaves, northern ivory, ambergris and horses are all in great demand in the south. Yet in the north, there is great demand for Byzantine glass, silver, gold coins, cotton and silk cloth, as well as such things as ostrich plumes and exotic slaves. It thus seems a simple proposition for us to sell our merchandise in the south, and use the payment to purchase trade goods for the north.

  As you have no doubt learned, after your conscientious efforts in my trading factory, being a trader is an incredibly complicated business. You must obtain your goods at the lowest prices, yet get the best quality. You must have a regular source of supplies, and you must provide protection not only for your ships, but for the trading factors and their families.

  Most important, you must find local businessmen and factors that you can trust; who will only skim a little off your rightful share. Now, it happens, by a great stroke of luck, that the Rus have been invited to the Slav town of Novgorod, to help the people fight off a veritable horde of raiders and to help bring peace and trade to them and their neighbours. Many families of the Rus are taking up the challenge and sending ships to help colonize, and, of course, develop trade.

  The opportunity is a great one, for this town of Novgorod controls a major river, and may be the gateway to both eastern and Byzantine trade. I am too old and comfortable to traverse the great distances involved, so I need good men to represent my interests.

  This then, is why I have need of your help. As you have proved yourselves both astute and conscientious, I would ask you to sail south to the great rivers. There, as special agents of mine, I want you to establish permanent bases that will make it possible for my men to safely pass trade goods from factory to factory, until my traders can make the final run south to Byzantium itself.

  In particular, I want you to establish my presence as far south as you can. Mind, it is essential that you find easily fortified positions. Stay away from the open steppes, since that is the undisputed territory of nomads who hate buildings. The locations you choose must be convenient to the eastern caravan route, yet command the southern river trade.

  With luck, and several years experience on the rivers, I will consider you, Canuteson, as a partner in my company. But note you well, I will offer you this not for the love of Canute, but only if you prove your worth as a trader. I had hoped to train you personally for a much longer time, but events have unfortunately been precipitated. What say you?"

  All three friends exchanged glances of amazement. The offer made by Gunnar was little short of miraculous. It was an offer that most could expect only after many hard years in the service of a trading company, and yet, to reap the full benefits, they must prove themselves, so it was not an offer foolishly or rashly promised. Knowing that he spoke for the three of them, Ambrose responded.

  "Jarl Gunnar, I hardly know what to say. In truth, we feared that we might have to just blindly flee, and your offer is far more generous than we deserve, and yet I must state that, tempted as I am, I am unable to avail myself of even such an incredible offer until I know that Canute is not suffering because of what I have done.

  Further, I have a responsibility to my brother and the Kingdom of Wessex. My responsibility cannot be shirked, and, in God's own time, I must return to my people."

  "Ho!' shouted Gunnar, 'Better and better! I think that any arrangement between us cannot but be mutually profitable. Know you then, that Canute is well. The captain of one of the three vessels was from a neighbouring town, and knows him. Canute was called to report to the Thing to answer for his action. He rightfully stated that he had sent you on an errand to here. He swore by Odin and Thor that he had naught to do with your two companions' escape, and none dared brook the fierce old warrior, especially as he freely and openly told all where you had been sent. They doubt that you will reach here, because you were not spotted coasting through the Danish guardian islands, but they delivered their message anyway.

  As to your king and brother, I will give you a boat any time you wish, but the islanders have been warned, and you will not make it home to the island of Angleland. Better that you try when the Danish searchers have given up and headed home. There is even a possibility that you can reach Miklagard and travel home to Angleland that way. Knowing all that, what say you to my offer?"

  Once again, Ambrose spoke. "Jarl, once again we are in your debt. It is a magnificent offer, and we heartily accept, with only the provisos I mentioned earlier."

  Gunnar sighed as if a big load was removed from his mind. "Good! Go then, and pack your belongings. Your ship, the Deerhound, sails in the morning with the tide. I will arrange to have you rowed out to meet her secretly."

  As they departed the room, Ambrose looked quickly into the eyes of their benefactor, and smiled a thank you. Gunnar chuckled and said.

  "It is with great regret that I must inform the Danish captains that they are too late, and that your ship sailed before I could stop you."

  CHAPTER 14.

  They Make the Ship.

  Dawn found Ambrose, Phillip, and Polonius being rowed out into the open waters of the Viking Sea in a small skiff. They had set off from a small fishing village a half-hour's ride north of Gunnar's magnificent residence
. This precaution had been suggested by Gunnar, who had felt that this would prevent any potential problems if the commanders of the Danish vessels became suspicious and pulled alongside the Rus vessel as it slipped out of the harbour.

  Thus, it was almost an hour after dawn when the waiting boat load of people saw a low vessel round the point.

  Polonius spoke quietly to his two comrades. "Well, old friends. Let's hope that this is the Deerhound. There is no way we can make it ashore if we have been betrayed or the Danes just plain found us."

  Normally taciturn Phillip replied. "Look at the height of the gunnels. This is a vessel designed for inland waterways, not a Danish warship."

  Ambrose smiled. "Then, my friends, let us thank merciful God. It appears that we are safe and will soon be on our way!"

  In spite of the verbal assurances, all aboard the little vessel remained tense. Betrayal meant a painful death for all of them. The Vikings were not gentle with escaped slaves, and those who defiled a sacred sacrifice would be given particularly unpleasant deaths.

  Both passengers and rowers all heaved a large sigh of relief when they were finally able to detect Gunnar's eagle crest on the ship's sail. As the land-sea breezes were constantly shifting, the karve crewmen were manning their oars, and the low ship quickly closed the distance.

  The three fugitives all inspected the ship with a critical eye, since they were now more familiar with the various Viking ships, and their lives could depend on the worth of this one. It was clinker-built, as were most Viking ships. It seemed almost a scaled-down version of the long-ship they had travelled on, but it had a surprising beam for so small a ship.

  Ambrose ruminated out loud. "Well, friends, it looks more like a mastiff, instead of a greyhound built for speed and surprise."

  Polonius nodded. "It makes sense, Master. Gunnar told me that the Deerhound is a river karve, a special design of his own. He said they must be able to sail and fight, and yet carry a large quantity of trade goods. They might be called upon to traverse hundreds of Roman miles along rivers, and pass over shallows and rocks. In short, the vessel is a compromise between a vessel built for raids and war, and one that can carry enough goods to make a profitable voyage.

 

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