The Long Ships

CHAPTER FOUR

HOW BROTHER WILLIBALD TAUGHT KING SVEN A MAXIM FROM THE SCRIPTURES

ORM went to Gudmund and bade him greet Thorkel from him and tell him that he would not be rejoining the army, as he was sailing for home. Gudmund was grieved at this news and tried to persuade him to change his mind, but Orm said that his recent luck had been too good to last much longer.

“I have nothing more to perform in this land,” he said, “and if you had such a woman as Ylva with you, would you house her among an army of idle soldiers whose tongues slobber out of their mouths at every woman they see? My sword would never be in its sheath, and it is my wish to live with her in peace. And that is her wish also.”

Gudmund admitted that Ylva was a woman fit to tempt any man who caught the briefest glimpse of her to wander from the path of discretion. He himself, he added, would like, if he could, to sail home to Bravik without further delay, for it made him uneasy to have so much silver about him. But this he could not do, for he must return to the rest of his men whom he had left at Maldon and must, besides, tell Thorkel and Jostein what agreement they had come to regarding the distribution of the silver.

“My men here are being plundered by quick-witted women,” he said, “who swarm like flies round their silver and steal it from their very belts and breeches, once they have made them sufficiently drunk. Therefore I think it best that I should row down the river with you today, if I can get my crew assembled in time.”

They went to King Ethelred and his Archbishop to bid them farewell, and saw the bears dance miraculously on their hind legs. Then they ordered the horns to be blown, and the men took their places at the oars, where many of them performed very clumsily at first as the result of fatigue and drunkenness. They made swift progress down the river, however, and this time the watch-ships did not bar their path, though there was a lively exchange of repartee between the crews. They spent the night at anchor in the estuary. Then Gudmund and Orm parted and went their separate ways.

Ylva was a good sailor; nevertheless, she hoped that the sea voyage would not take too long, for she found it very cramped in the ship. Orm comforted her by assuring her that the weather was usually good at this time of the year and would not be likely to delay them.

“The only detour we shall need to make,” he said, “will be to a certain hill near Jellinge; and that should not take us long.”

Ylva was not sure whether it would be a wise thing to try to regain the necklace now, since nobody knew what the situation was in Jutland or even who sat upon the throne at Jellinge. But Orm said that he wanted to get this business settled by the time he reached home.

“And, whoever sits at Jellinge,” he added, “whether it be King Sven or King Erik, I do not think it likely that we shall find him there at this time of the year, when all kings like to fight. We will steal ashore at night, and if all goes well, nobody need know that we have come.”

Brother Willibald enjoyed being at sea, though it disappointed him that nobody fell ill during the voyage. He liked especially to squat beside Rapp when the latter was at the steering-oar and to ply him with questions concerning the southland and the adventures he had had there; and though Rapp was somewhat scant in his replies, these two seemed to be becoming good friends.

They rounded the Jutland cape and headed southwards, encountering no other ships; but then the wind turned against them, so that they had much hard rowing to do, and on one occasion they had to seek the shelter of the coast and wait for the gale to lessen. It was night as they rowed up toward the mouth of the river below Jellinge, but the sky had already begun to grow green with dawn when Orm finally beached the ship, some distance below the castle. He told Brother Willibald, Rapp, and two good men from the crew to follow him; but he bade Ylva to remain on board. She was unwilling to obey, but he said that it was to be so.

“In such matters as this, it is I who shall decide,” he said, “whatever may be the case later. Brother Willibald knows the place as well as you do; and, if we should encounter anyone and there should be fighting, which is possible now that it is growing light, it will be better that you should be here. We shall not be gone for long.”

They walked up from the beach in the direction of the castle, proceeding across the fields that lay on its southern side. Brother Willibald was just remarking that they had almost reached the place when, suddenly, they heard the tramp of feet and men’s voices coming from the bridge away to their left and saw a herd of cattle approaching them, driven by several men.

“It will be safest to kill these fellows,” said Rapp, weighing a spear in his hand.

But Brother Willibald grabbed him by the arm and forbade him vehemently to use any violence toward men who had done him no harm. Orm agreed and said that, if they made haste, there should be no need for bloodshed.

So they began to run toward the rise. The cowherds stopped and stared at them in amazement.

“Whose men are you?” they shouted.

“King Harald’s,” replied Orm.

“The little priest!” shrieked one of the herdsmen. “It is the little priest who used to attend King Harald! These men are enemies! Run and rouse the castle!”

Rapp and the two men with him sprang immediately in pursuit of the herdsmen, but the cattle blocked their path, so that the others got a good lead. Meanwhile Orm ran to the rise with Brother Willibald, who at once showed him the place where the three stones lay. Orm heaved the topmost one aside; and there, beneath it, lay the necklace, just as Ylva had hidden it.

“Now we shall have to show our paces,” he said as he thrust it into his shirt.

Shouts and alarums could now be heard from the castle; and when they reached Rapp and his men, they found him cursing himself for having failed to stop the herdsmen from giving the alarm. In his anger he had flung his spear at one of them, who, as a result, was now lying outside the great gate.

“But it served little purpose,” he said, “and now I have lost a good spear.”

They raced as fast as they could across the fields toward the ship. Very soon, however, they heard loud whoops behind them, and the pounding of hoofs. Rapp was a sharp-sighted man with his one eye, and he and Orm glanced back over their shoulders as they ran.

“Here comes King Sven himself,” muttered Orm. “That is no mean honor.”

“And in a hurry,” said Rapp, “for he has forgotten to plait his beard.”

Brother Willibald was not so young as the others; nevertheless, he sprinted along nimbly, with his cassock lifted high above his knees.

“Now is our chance!” cried Orm. “Mark them with your spears!”

As he spoke, he stopped in his tracks, turned, and flung his spear at the foremost of the pursuers, a man on a big horse who was galloping just in front of King Sven. When the man saw the spear winging toward him, he pulled his horse back on its hind legs. The spear buried itself deeply in the animal’s chest, causing it to topple forwards and roll over, crushing its rider beneath it. Rapp’s men cast their spears at King Sven, but failed to hit him; and now he was almost upon them, and they had no spears left with which to defend themselves.

Brother Willibald bent down, picked up a large stone, and flung it with all his might.

“Love thy neighbor!” he grunted as it left his hand.

The stone struck King Sven full on the mouth with a loud smack. With a howl of agony, he crumpled on the horse’s mane and slithered to the ground.

“That is what I call a good priest,” said Rapp.

The rest of their pursuers crowded round King Sven where he lay on the ground, so that Orm and his men managed to reach the ship unscathed, though somewhat short of breath. Orm cried to the rowers to begin pulling at once, while he and the others were still wading out from the shore. They were dragged aboard and had come a good way from the shore before the first horseman appeared at the water’s edge. The wind had sprung up again in the gray dawn twilight and was favorable to them, so that, using both sail and oars, they managed to come swiftly out into the sea.

Orm gave the necklace to Ylva and told her of all that had happened to them; and even Rapp was less scant of speech than usual as he praised the excellence of the little priest’s throw.

“I hope he felt it,” said Ylva.

“There was blood on his mouth as he fell,” said Rapp. “I saw it clearly.”

“Little priest,” said Ylva, “I have a mind to kiss you for striking that blow.”

Orm laughed. “That is what I have always been most afraid of,” he said, “that you would become enamored of priests in your piety.”

Brother Willibald protested vehemently that he had no wish to be kissed; nevertheless, he appeared to be not altogether displeased at the praises that were being showered upon him.

“That kiss that King Sven received he will not soon forget,” said Orm, “and it is not his habit to leave such things unavenged. When we reach home, if we do so safely, my mother will have to pack with speed, for I think it will be safest for us to depart into the forests, where no king ventures. And there I shall build my church.”

And of Orm’s subsequent adventures in the forest country far north toward the border, the story also shall be told; of his zeal for Christianity, and Brother Willibald’s triumphs of conversion; of the opposition they encountered from the Smalanders, and their feuds with them; and of how the wild oxen returned to the land.