Knut marked exactly where he had walked, and he put his feet down in those steps. He felt slate under the grass. His heart was pounding. But he needed Raef, and he let out all his breath and went on. One step he was in the grass, and the next in the hall.
He drew in a breath, had a moment of terrific nausea, and steadied. The hall stretched long and dim around him. From the far end came the clatter of the looms. Two men were mounting meat on the spit. Raef, sprawled on the high seat, looked half-asleep. Leif stood across the room at the table, pouring a cup of ale.
Knut went up before the high seat, and Raef raised his head. Several other men came up the hall also; Laissa was there. He did not see Gemma anywhere. He turned to face Raef.
“Well, King of England,” Raef said.
“King of Jorvik,” Knut said. “You told me you would help me. I have got the Queen in Winchester.”
“Keep her in England,” Raef said.
“Oh, she’ll stay in England,” Knut said. “I told her I would marry her.”
Laissa gave a soft, amazed sound. Leif had turned to listen. Raef’s eyes opened, direct.
He said, “Did she agree?”
“Yes,” Knut said. “But she wants Gemma.”
Laissa said, “No.”
“You promised her my daughter?” Raef said.
“Yes. But not until after we are married. We have to banish the demon, then, before she actually gets her,” Knut said. He had thought this out. “At the wedding. You said you would help me. Otherwise—”
Raef said, “If we fail she will have my daughter.”
Knut said, “Then we can’t fail.”
Leif said, “She can’t have Gemma. No matter what she’s done.”
Knut looked around again. “Where is she? What’s she done?”
“Cast me out,” Raef said. “Lacking a convenient swine, she has thrown me into an old man with many bad thoughts.”
Laissa came up beside him. “What have you sworn to him?” She laid her hand on his arm. “I fear the cost of this.”
Raef touched his ear – where his left ear had been. “I fear more myself, that I can’t do it.” He nodded at Knut. “Let Gemma say if she will go. I can’t say for her.”
Knut said, “I will, if I can. If you help me.”
“If she will go, you must swear to me you will protect her.”
“I swear it,” Knut said. He cast around for something strong enough and said, “I swear as a son to a father.”
Raef smiled at him. “I will do all I can, then. As a father to a son.”
Laissa said, “Raef.”
Knut said, “The wedding is in Winchester, in a month.”
“We will be there,” Raef said. “Go talk to Gemma.”
* * *
When Knut had left, he turned to Laissa. “She cannot go alone. They are young, and they love each other. You must go with them and keep them out of trouble.”
She said, “But not you?”
“I’ll go with Leif,” he said. He took her hand and kissed the palm and closed her fingers over it. He smiled at her. “Don’t be afraid, Laissa. I will not suffer my daughter to be attacked. Go with her and keep her safe.”
She looked into his eyes; something had happened in him. All the years she had known him he had been edgy, inward, uncertain; part of his brilliance had been his constant shifting nerve. Now he was calm. His eyes were still as blue as the deepest sky, but she saw only peace in him. She took his hand to her lips. She said, “Good-bye, then.” The words resounded in her mind, more meaningful than she had intended. She went out after Knut.
* * *
Knut went to Gemma, who was living in the garret of Mira’s new house. The girl came down into the hall in her simple dress and made him a bow.
“Sit,” Knut said, and made her perch on a stool. He sank down on his heels before her, his eyes on her face; he had not remembered how beautiful she was, but she looked sad, and older.
She said, “Why have you come? Have you seen my mother and father?”
“Yes,” he said.
To his surprise, she put her hands up over her face. She sat still awhile, her face hidden, and then she looked up.
“They’re here? They are in Jorvik? I cannot – I have not seen them it seems for years. I betrayed them. I have lost them.”
“I don’t think so,” he said. “They still love you.”
“Yes,” she said. “And I them, but that doesn’t always matter.” She turned her gaze on him. “You are King now. This is such a marvel.”
He said, “You know, I cannot marry you, even so.”
“Oh, well.” She laughed, not happily. “I’m not sure anybody will ever want to marry me anyway.”
He said, “I am to marry the old queen. Emma.”
“Oh,” Gemma said. “She’s much older than you. Is she pretty?”
“No. But she’s Queen, which is what matters. She wants you among her household.”
Her face changed. The smile disappeared. “She is my father’s enemy. Isn’t that so? My mother told me once how she harried them out of London.”
“Yes.”
“That’s why you came here. To get my father’s help. And that’s why she wants me, to ruin him.”
“Yes.”
Her face crumpled. Her tongue ran over her lower lip and she looked elsewhere a moment. Then her gaze came back to his. “What does he say?”
He shrugged. “That you should decide for yourself if you will come.”
She gave a shiver. “What will happen?”
“I don’t know.” He thought of the long, reaching claws, the black shadow of the demon.
“If I do this, will they take me back?”
“I will make them take you back.”
She gave the short, unhappy laugh again. “You have never understood my father.” She lifted her eyes to him. “If this will help him, I will do it, whatever comes of it.”
He said, “I will take care of you.” Although he did not know if he could.
Then, in the door, Laissa came. Gemma cried out, leaped up, and ran into her mother’s arms. Laissa began to weep, her hand on her daughter’s hair. Knut went by them to leave them alone; he was thinking he had at least kept some of the promise.
* * *
They went south on his ship. They did not go directly; he stopped along the coast, in several places, to take homages, so that the moon was almost gone when they came to Sandwich. It amazed Gemma how people treated him, bowing and fawning on him. He ignored it. He hardly spoke to her and Laissa either; he was thinking about something else. Laissa never let her be alone with him.
At Sandwich they left the ship and went overland to Winchester on horseback. They came into the city in the afternoon and went to his hall.
There a man came up to meet them, young as Knut, with tilted eyes and dark skin. He saw the two women and said, “Well, I see you used your time there wisely.”
Knut said, sharply, “Odd, this is my sister and her mother.” He took hold of Gemma’s hand.
The dark man smiled at Gemma, merry. “That’s even better.”
Laissa said, suddenly, “Leif.” She pushed past them, down the great torchlit hall, her arms out.
The Icelander had been standing there by the wall, waiting, and now he took her into his embrace. For a moment they were silent, holding each other. The old man laid his cheek against her hair and shut his eyes. He had always loved her. Gemma went toward them, looking all around them.
“Where is—”
Laissa stepped back. Tears spangled her cheeks. Leif turned to Gemma and took her hands.
“He’s here.” He looked beyond her, to Knut. “He thought he should stay out of sight.” He turned back to Gemma, smiling. “Ah, but I’ve missed you, little one.”
She flung herself into his arms. “I missed you.” She rubbed her face against his shoulder. “I want my father back.”
“That’s all right,” he said. “Don’t cry.” He did not say:
Yes, he will come back.
Behind her, Laissa said, “When will she meet the Queen?”
Knut said, “I will present her tonight, but only for a moment. The wedding is tomorrow. After that, Gemma will go into the Queen’s household.”
Gemma turned toward him. “You made it close,” she said. Her heart pounded.
“I meant to.”
She said, “My father—”
Knut shrugged. Leif said, “He’s here somewhere.”
She said, “Will I ever see him again?” She turned toward her mother, but Laissa said nothing. “Please,” Gemma said. “When can I see him?” And still no one spoke. She laid her head on Laissa’s shoulder. She had been happy for a moment, seeing Leif. Now she was cold with dread. Something terrible was going to happen now. She buried her face against her mother.
* * *
Knut had made sure that several other girls were being put forward into Emma’s eye on this evening, so that when Gemma came up and made the sweeping bow he had taught her, there were many other people around.
Nonetheless, Emma lurched toward her, for an instant ungainly in her lust. Knut saw the Queen wanted to gather the girl up at once, but another maid was coming forward, bowing, the herald saying another name. Knut got Gemma by the arm and drew her away. He saw the avid look on Emma’s face and turned his back.
* * *
Emma thought, She is perfect. Young, pretty, and clever, and with some small gift of sight. She thought, I will have her by me always. And my new husband has brought her to me as a wedding gift.
That made her laugh. She wondered if she were becoming too human: laughing. But it was an elegant circle: Mav’s granddaughter would become the Lady of Hedeby. She hoped Raef knew this, wherever he was, and took it like a knife in the heart.
* * *
Before he said the vows with Emma, Knut wore his crown before the gathered lords of England.
It was different than he expected, sitting there with all his sworn men before him, Saxon and Dane together. The crown was heavy. It drove his mind deeper. He remembered again what he had promised Edmund. He would be a good King. He would not take England to himself but give himself to England. Around him the great church hummed with the singing of the monks, the charges of the bishop. He thought how many kings there had been in so short a time – Ethelred, Sweyn, Edmund, him. In and out like the tide, as Raef had said. The kingdom needed peace, and peace meant evenhanded law.
Now this thing with Emma.
They were married by a Christian rite, which didn’t bother him. He had taken the water blessing once, a long time before, when his father had, to get some advantage with the Germans. It was just a word, anyway, god, for that beyond words, as irreducible as the ocean or a star. He stood before the altar and put a ring on her hand while the bishop recited. They did not kiss.
Turning, they went down the aisle of the church toward the door, his men packed in on either side. She was smiling. Her greying, dark hair was smooth under a gold-embroidered coif. Her feet walked smoothly in Eastern slippers. He saw she was pleased with all this, and he turned and bent to her, husbandlike.
“Take my arm. Here.” They walked out through the deep door of the church, the big wooden doorways cast wide open on either side. Emma leaned on him, delighting in his solicitude. Gemma had come out behind them. On the threshold, he said, the words ringing in his ears, “It’s cool, my wife, you will need a cloak.”
Gemma brought up the red cloak, collared with soft marten fur, and he himself helped swing it around Emma’s shoulders. His heart thundered. She would know it instantly by the color. She would fling it off. But she gathered it around her, smiling, flattered. She turned to him, her face shining with pleasure. “Your arm, my King.” Knut put his hand back and pushed Gemma hard away, back over the threshold and into the church. Side-by-side with his new wife, he walked out to the sunlight, where her women waited in two long rows. Laissa and Leif waited just beyond, the first of a crowd, which let up a cheer at the sight of the King and Queen.
Before the King and his Queen had gone three steps, a shriek pealed out of her. She looked down at the cloak around her. With one hand she flung Knut aside as if he were a rag. She tore at the cloak, trying to rip it away. From her eyes, her ears, her mouth, suddenly, there leaked wisps of filthy smoke.
She wheeled and she lunged for Gemma, standing there on the threshold of the church. From her reaching arms the black claws of the demon stretched out for the girl.
The church door slammed closed between them, and Raef leaped forth to meet the Lady.
His eyes blazed. His hair was white as the sunlight. His face glowed. He flung himself at her as if he would swallow her up. She recoiled, the black, smoky miasma spinning around, trying to get back to Emma, who was still screaming, still wrapped in the red cloak, and Raef closed in and enveloped them both.
He gathered Emma into his arms, her head clasped in his bad hand and her whole body pressed against him. The whirling, gritty smoke rose out of her in a stinking cloud. From it screeches rang, as if from a hundred mouths. Knut staggered backward, thrown by the whirling air, and fell.
An intense cold rolled over him. Lying flat, he gaped at Raef, standing with Emma in his arms, almost hidden in the stinking smoke. Around them her women in their white dresses were scattered like eggshells. Laissa had gone down on her knees, halfway between Knut and her husband, the blast of the air taking her long hair out straight as a banner.
The crowd was shrieking in terror, trying to run. Many had collapsed. The church doors banged open and flew off. A child’s body sailed through the air, becoming only pieces as it flew. Laissa was trying to get up, and Knut bellowed to her to lie down, the roar drowning his voice. Leif was beside her, his scanty hair aflutter; he forced his way against the terrible wind, flung himself over Laissa, and held her down, his body shielding her.
Gemma had fallen to her knees on the threshold behind her father. She was trying to reach him, but the blast of the wind tumbled her backward, into the church. The church itself was shaking. The wind howled, and the stout tree beside it bent like a bow. A roof slate struck the ground a foot from Knut and shattered into pieces. A tree across the yard cracked down the middle. Out there in the crowd huddled on the ground, a man tried to stand and fell back, blood spurting from his cheeks, his lips.
The center of the whirling stink of smoke grew brighter, shedding rays of light in all directions. Outlined in the light, Raef appeared, Emma held hard against him, his arms wrapped around her, as if he could press her into him. The smoke was vanishing into him. As the light around him swelled, the boiling, dirty smoke sank into him through his eyes, his mouth, his skin. The last tendril vanished. The air stopped moving. The noise faded. The air lightened.
In the ringing silence, Emma slid from Raef’s arms down onto the porch. Raef stood straight, his feet spread wide thrust his arms out, tipped his head back. Tie gave a howl of triumph. All around him the light streamed in ripples of unnameable color.
The light flowed back into Raef, and he burst into flame.
His hair burned up in an instant, and then his shirt. His skin bubbled up, the muscle underneath, the bone thrusting out white against the red for an instant before it too blackened and was gone. The throbbing red fist in the middle of his chest exploded into a golden jewel. The great blood sacks of his lungs. His belly, his man’s parts. Above Emma, sprawled senseless on the red cloak, the white bones of his face gleamed like a reflection in the air, the long white bone of his left arm, the fingers of his maimed hand. They melted into nothing. There was silence.
Laissa was pushing up, trying to get out from under Leif. The fat Icelander’s body was sprawled over her, limp. His head was covered with blood; a slate from the roof had dashed his skull in.
Gemma staggered to the door of the church and stood gaping there. Knut got up, shaking, and went toward the red puddle of the cloak on the ground, toward his new wife. Laissa got to her feet, her arms out to steady he
rself.
Knut kneeled by Emma and lifted her in his arms. She was soft, dazed, her coif gone and her hair wild. The red cloak had left welts around her neck, her wrists. She raised her eyes to him, bewildered. He saw at once the demon was gone. He said her name, and her brown eyes blinked up at him as if she had never seen him before. He lifted her like a child and turned to Laissa, beside him.
Laissa had dropped down on all fours where her husband had been. But of Raef there was nothing left.
* * *
They buried Leif in the graveyard behind the church. After the priests had gone, Laissa went around picking up stones and began to lay them down in the outline of a ship. She wept as she did this.
Gemma came and put her arms around her mother and sobbed.
“Was this me? Did I make this happen?”
“No, no,” Laissa said. “He was always meant to do this. It was for your sake that he could. He loved you more than he feared her.” She held the girl tightly. “Come back to Jorvik with me.”
Gemma shook her head. She stood back, wiping her hand over her tears. “I am staying here, Mama. The Queen is not what she was. She doesn’t even remember. She needs me.” She wiped her eyes again. “And Knut is here, you know, and… I could not bear to go back and have it all be different.”
Laissa said, “I have to go back to Jorvik.”
“Mama, I love you. Knut will care for you, for the sake of what Papa did.” She began to cry again. “What Papa did. I was a fool, Mama. Please stay with us.”
Laissa said, “Here? He isn’t here. If he’s anywhere, he’ll be in Jorvik.”
Gemma gave her a wild look and said nothing more. She went away to her new place, in the Queen’s court. She would be great there. She would marry one of Knut’s friends. Her sons would be princes. None of them would have the sight.
Kings of the North Page 37
