The Long Ships

CHAPTER SEVEN

CONCERNING WHAT HAPPENED AT THE WEIRS

THAT evening they went ashore for the night close to a village, where they found both sheep and mead for sale. After they had eaten, Orm sat in counsel with Toke and Olof over the news they had just heard, to decide what course they would be best advised to take now that they were approaching their goal. They went out to the empty ship, to be able to speak without fear of disturbance or of being overheard; and there they sat together in the evening stillness, while dragonflies played over the surface of the water, and the river chuckled slowly around the ship.

Orm thought that he had many difficult problems to decide.

“Such is our present situation,” he said, “that we must plan wisely if we are to bring this voyage to a successful conclusion. Nobody knows anything about the treasure except you two and myself, and the two boys, who know how to keep their mouths shut; no one else. All that the men have been told is that we are going to Kiev to collect an inheritance, and I have not revealed our true purpose even to Spof. But we shall soon have to tell them that we are going beyond to the weirs, and that my inheritance lies hidden there. If we tell them this, though, it is certain that the whole of Kiev will also know of it a short while after we have come to the town; for men who drink in a good harbor cannot keep such a secret longer than the time it takes to drink three cups of ale, even if they know they will lose their heads for it. And if the purpose of our journey comes to the ears of the great Prince and his men, it will be a sad piece of ill luck for us, for then there will be many who will wish to share our silver and gold with us, if not to kill us and keep the lot for themselves. In addition to all this, we now have these Patzinaks to think about, who will be lurking in wait for us at the weirs.”

Olof and Toke agreed that there was much here for a man to scratch his head about. Toke asked how far it might be from Kiev to the weirs, and whether they would be able to find food on the river once they had passed beyond the city.

“From Kiev to the weirs is, I think, nine days’ hard rowing,” said Olof, “though Spof will be able to tell you more accurately than I. The time I voyaged there we bought food from the herdsmen on the banks, and also took much from a rich village of the Severians. But things may be different now that it is no longer peaceful on the river.”

“It would be foolish of us to come to Kiev without first telling the men that we intend to proceed,” said Toke. “For there is much that will tempt them in the city, and it may be that many of them will refuse to go farther, pleading that we misled them.”

“A worse danger,” said Olof, “is that the great Prince himself will immediately conscript many if not all of us into his service. I have served the great Prince Vladimir and know how things are in Kiev. He has always given good pay, and if he now has trouble on his hands, he will be offering more than before. It is so with him that he can never have enough Northmen in his bodyguard; for he holds us to be the boldest and most loyal of men, as indeed we are, and loves us dearly, having done so ever since the Swedes helped him to his throne when he was a young man. He himself is of Swedish blood. He knows many ways to tempt Northmen to remain in Kiev, even if his gold should fail to seduce them.”

Orm nodded and sat pondering, staring down into the water.

“There is much to be said against our visiting the great Prince Vladimir,” he said, “though his fame is so great and his wisdom so renowned that it would be a pity to pass through his town without seeing him. It is said that, now that he is old, men worship him as holy, though it has taken him a long time to attain to that condition. He must be nearly as great a king as King Harald was. But that which is most important must come first. We have come on a particular errand, to collect the gold; then, when we have found it, we shall have another errand—namely, to carry it quickly and safely home again. I think we are all agreed that it would be wisest to proceed directly to the weirs.”

“That is so,” said Toke. “None the less, I think we would do well to take Spof’s counsel on the matter. He knows the route better than we do and, perchance, knows these Patzinaks better also.”

The others nodded, and Orm summoned Spof to him from the bank. When he had climbed aboard, Orm told him about the gold.

“I said nothing of this to you when I engaged you,” he concluded, “because I was not yet sure of you. But now I know you to be a good man, and honest.”

“This is to be a longer journey than I had bargained for,” said Spof, “and more dangerous. The price I asked for my services you found dear, but I must tell you that if I had known we were going to the weirs, it would have been dearer still.”

“You need have no worry on that score,” said Orm. “For this voyage to the weirs you may name your own price. And I promise you, and Toke Gray-Gullsson and Olof Styrsson will be your witnesses, that you shall have your share of the treasure, too, if we find it and bring it safely home. And it shall be a full helmsman’s share.”

“Then I am content to go with you,” said Spof. “We Gothlanders are happiest when we know that our services will be well rewarded.”

When he had reflected on the matter, Spof said that he, too, thought that they would do best to proceed directly to the weirs.

“There will be no difficulty about procuring food,” he said. “It is cheap and easy to find farther down the river; I have known men get five fat pigs for a single broadax, with a sack of oats thrown in. We have rich villages ahead of us now, both on this side of Kiev and beyond, and shall be able to get enough food to last us to the weirs and back again. But it would be best if you could pay for it, as you have done hitherto, if your silver will stretch to it, for it is unwise to take things by force on an outward voyage when one intends to return by the same route.”

Orm replied that he still had a little silver to jingle, though most of it had gone by now.

“Our chief problem will be the Patzinaks,” continued Spof. “We may find ourselves forced to buy a safe-conduct from them. It is possible, though, that they will not let us through at any price. It would be good if you could tell me off which bank the treasure lies, and between which weirs.”

“It lies off the eastern bank,” said Orm, “between the second and third weir, reckoning from the south. But the hiding-place itself I shall reveal to no man until we have reached it.”

“Then it lies a good way from where we shall have to beach the ship for the portage,” said Spof. “It would be best if we could go there by night. It would have been a good thing if we could have brought someone with us who understands the language of the Patzinaks, in case we should find them unwilling to talk peaceably with us. But that cannot be helped now.”

“That difficulty we can overcome,” said Toke, “by taking Faste’s scribe with us. He can do his business at Kiev on the way back. Nobody will complain of his lateness, for nobody will know when he started. If we should speak with the Patzinaks, there is sure to be someone among them who will understand his language, even if he cannot understand theirs.”

With that, their conference ended. The next morning, before they continued with their journey, Orm spoke to the men. He told them that they were going beyond Kiev, to a place where his inheritance from his brother lay hidden.

“There may well be fighting there,” he added, “and if you prove yourselves bold men, so that I win my inheritance safely, it may be that each of you will receive a share of it, besides the good money that you have already been promised for your hire.”

The men had little complaint to make, save Sone’s sons, who were heard to mumble among themselves that two of them would surely die there and that they needed ale rather than the sweet drink which was all that this land had to offer them, if they were to fight with their full strength.

They landed several times during their passage down the river, to visit the villages of the Poljans, where wealth abounded. There Orm bought food and drink, so that they were as well furnished as when they had started. Then, late one evening, when a fog lay over the river, they rowed past Kiev, unable to discern much of the city.

Faste’s scribe grew uneasy when he found that they did not intend to put him ashore here.

“I have an important message for the great Prince,” he said, “as you all know.”

“It has been decided that you shall accompany us to the weirs,” said Orm. “You are clever at speaking with all kinds of men and may prove useful to us there. You will be put ashore here on our way back.”

At this the scribe showed great alarm; however, when he had prevailed upon Orm to swear an oath by the Holy Trinity and St. Cyril that he would neither force him to row nor sell him to the Patzinaks, he calmed himself and said that the great Prince would have to wait.

Soon the villages along the bank began to grow fewer, until at last they ceased altogether and were replaced by unending grassland, where the Patzinaks held sway. From the ship they could sometimes see herds of sheep and horses at their watering-places, tended by men on horseback wearing tall skin caps and carrying long spears. Spof said that it was a good thing that they saw such herds only on the left bank of the river and never on the right bank. The reason for this, he explained, was that there was a high tide on the river which prevented the Patzinaks from bringing their herds across to the right bank; if they attempted to do this, they would lose many animals at the fords. Henceforth, therefore, they always beached the ship on the safe bank, though they did not relax the sharp watch they kept each night.

When they had come to within three day’s rowing of the weirs, they became yet more cautious and rowed only by night. By day they kept the ship hidden among tall reeds in creeks in the right bank. On the last day they anchored within hearing distance of the weirs and, when darkness fell, rowed over to the left bank, where the dragging-tracks began.

It had been decided that twenty men should remain in the ship. They had drawn lots to determine which these should be, and Toke found himself among them. They were to row the ship out into the center of the stream and lie there at anchor during the night until they heard voices calling them from the land. Toke was reluctant to sit idle in the ship, but had to obey when the lot went against him. Orm would have liked to leave Blackhair with him, but in that matter he was unable to have his way.

Orm and Olof Summerbird now set off with the rest of their band up the long dragging-track, taking Spof with them as guide. All the men were armed with swords and bows. Spof had come this way several times before. He explained that the place to which they were going lay beyond the seventh weir, reckoning from the north. This would be three hours’ brisk marching, so that, allowing for the time it would take to find and raise the treasure, they would be hard put to get back before it began to grow light. They had with them the wagon that they had used at the great portage, to put the treasure in, and also the scribe, though he was not greatly pleased at having to accompany them. They began their march in pitch-darkness; but they knew that the moon would soon rise and, despite the added dangers that this would bring, Orm was glad that it was to be so, since otherwise he feared he might be unable to find the spot where the treasure lay.

But when the moon rose, it straightway brought them trouble, for the first object upon which its rays shone was a rider in a pointed hat and a long coat standing motionless on a hill ahead of them. At the sight of him, they at once halted and stood silent. It was still dark in the hollow where they were, but the horseman seemed, they thought, to be peering in their direction, as though their footsteps or the creak of the wagon might have come to his ears.

One of Sone’s sons touched Orm with his bow.

“It is a long carry,” he muttered, “and moonlight is deceptive to shoot in; but we think we could mark him so that he will stay where he is, if you so wish it.”

Orm hesitated for a moment; then he muttered that hostilities were not to be opened from his side.

The horseman on the hill uttered a whistle, like a pewit’s call, and another horseman appeared beside him. The first horseman stretched out his arm and said something. They both sat still for a few moments; then they suddenly wheeled their horses, rode off, and disappeared.

“Those must have been Patzinaks,” said Orm, “and now things promise less well, for it is certain that they saw us.”

“We have already reached the fifth weir,” said Olof. “It would be a pity to turn back when we have come so far.”

“There is little pleasure to be gained in fighting horsemen,” said Orm, “especially when they outnumber those who oppose them on foot.”

“Perhaps they will wait till it is light before they attack us,” said Spof, “for they like this moonlight no more than we do.”

“Let us proceed,” said Orm.

They made all the speed they could, and when they had reached and passed the seventh weir, Orm began to look about him.

“Those of you whose eyes are sharpest must help me now,” he said. “There should be a rock in the water here with three rose-bushes on it, though there will be no flowers on them at this season.”

“There is a rock with bushes on it,” said Blackhair, “but whether or not they are rosebushes I cannot tell.”

They crept down to the water’s edge, and thence managed to discern three more rocks. All of these, however, appeared to be bald. Then Orm found the cleft where the rock-flat was broken and where the water boiled and bubbled, just as Are had described it.

“If we can now find a hill which is called the skull-mound of the Patzinaks,” he said, “we shall not be far from that which we have come to seek.”

It did not take them long to find this, for almost at once Spof pointed toward a high mound that lay a short way from the bank.

“They have buried a chieftain there,” he said, “I remember that I was once told so. And whenever they have been fighting here at the weirs, it is their custom to set the heads of their enemies on poles upon his mound.”

“Then let us make haste,” said Orm, “lest they put ours there too.”

He walked out along the edge of the cleft until he came to the spot that lay directly between the rock with the rosebushes on it and the mound with the skulls.

“This should be the place,” he said. “Now we shall know whether we have made this long voyage in vain.”

All the men were much excited. With a spear they measured the depth of the water beneath the cleft.

“We shall need tall men to catch these fish,” said Orm, “but I can feel a pile of stones here against the base of the rock, and that is as it should be.”

Two brothers of Olof’s following, named Long Staff and Skule, Hallanders by birth, were the tallest men in the band. They expressed their willingness to go into the water and do their best to see if anything lay there. When they stood on the bottom the water came up to their necks, and Orm bade them plunge their heads under and bring up, one by one, the stones that lay piled against the rock. They came spluttering up with huge stones, continuing thus for a good while; finding the work strenuous, they rested to regain their breath and then continued. Suddenly Skule said that his fingers had touched something that was not stone, but that he could not pull it free.

“Be careful with it,” said Orm, “and clear all the stones away first.”

“Here is something that is not stone,” said Long Staff, heaving an object out of the water. It was a sack and evidently contained something heavy, so that he had to get a good grip on it. Just as he had got it halfway up the rock facing him, the sack burst in the middle, because the skin it was made of had rotted, and a broad stream of silver coins ran out and fell splashing into the water. At this sight, a great cry of fear and anguish arose from the men on the bank. Long Staff tried to stem the flow with his hands and face, and the men threw themselves over one another to get the sack up and save as much as possible, but in spite of their efforts much of its contents fell into the water.

“This is a fine beginning,” said Orm bitterly. “Is that the way you handle silver? How much will be left for me if you continue like that? However,” he added in a calmer voice, “now at least we know that we have come to the right place, and that nobody has been here before us. But be careful with the rest, Hallander. There should be four sacks more.”

All the men jeered angrily at Long Staff, so that he began to sulk and swore he would remain in the water no longer. It was not his fault, he said, that the sack was rotten; if he had had as much silver as that to hide, he would have taken the trouble to store it in stronger sacks. Let others take his place and see whether they could do better.

But both Orm and Olof said that it was not his fault that this had happened. This encouraged him, and he continued with his fishing in a calmer spirit.

“Here is something else,” said Skule, pulling up something that he had caught, “and this is heavier than stone.”

It was a small copper chest, very green and exceedingly heavy, bound many times with fine red ropes, which were sealed with lead.

“Ah, yes, the chests,” said Orm. “I had forgotten them. There should be four small chests like that. They contain trash for women. But all the silver is in the sacks.”

With the other sacks they had better luck, managing to get them up on the rock without spilling any of their contents. As each new find appeared, their merriment increased, and they had no thoughts now for the Patzinaks or for the fact that time was passing. They had to search for a good while before finding the last two chests, for they had sunk down into the gravel in the riverbed; but at last they discovered these, too, and stacked all the treasure into the wagon.

By this time the better part of the night was gone, and as soon as they started on their homeward journey their old fear of the Patzinaks once more came over them.

“They will come as soon as it is light,” said Spof.

“Orm’s luck is better than that of most men,” said Olof Summerbird, “nor is mine among the worst. It may be that we shall avoid these Patzinaks altogether. For a long time has now passed since the two horsemen saw us, and since that moment we have not seen a single man. This may mean that the Patzinaks are now waiting for us below the bottom weir, where the portage ends; for they could not know that we were only intending to come halfway before turning back. They will not pursue us until they have realized their mistake, and if all goes well, we shall by that time have reached our ship safely.”

But in this he proved a false prophet, though his words almost came true; for a short while after daybreak, when they were but a little way from the ship, they heard a great thunder of hoofs behind them and turned to see the Patzinaks riding after them like Odin’s storm.

Orm bade his men halt and position themselves in front of the wagon with their bows drawn. The men were in the best of spirits, and ready to fight for their silver with all the Patzinaks in the Eastland.

“No stranger shall touch this wagon as long as four or five of us are left alive to defend it,” they said stolidly.

But the Patzinaks were cunning, and difficult to mark; for instead of riding straight at the Northmen, they whipped their horses up to a full gallop and rode past them at the distance of bowshot, releasing their arrows as they thundered by. Then they reassembled and, after a brief pause, repeated the maneuver in the opposite direction. Most of Orm’s men were skilled huntsmen, and expert with a bow, so that they were able to give a good account of themselves, and a great shout of triumph arose from them every time an enemy tumbled from his horse. But sometimes it happened that a Patzinak arrow, too, found its mark, and after a time Orm and Olof agreed that if things continued in this wise, they would not be able to hold out for much longer.

Between two attacks Orm called Blackhair and Glad Ulf to him. They had both been grazed by arrows, but were in good heart, and each proudly declared that he had killed his man. By good fortune, at the place where they had halted, the rocks dropped steeply down to the river, so that they were secured against attack from that direction. Orm now bade the boys creep down the rocks and run along the bank as fast as they could to where the ship was anchored. Then they were to shout across the water to Toke and tell him to come at once to their aid, bringing with him every man on board.

“Whether this adventure will end well depends on you,” he said, “for our arrows will not last much longer.”

Proud at being entrusted with so important a mission, the boys obeyed and made swiftly down the rocks. Soon the Patzinaks attacked again, and during this assault Olof Summerbird fell with an arrow in his chest. It had penetrated his mail shirt and was embedded in his flesh.

“That was shrewdly aimed,” he said. “You will have to fight the rest of this battle without my assistance.”

As he spoke, his knees bent suddenly beneath him, but he managed to remain on his feet and, climbing on to the wagon, lay down upon it, resting his head on one of the sacks of silver. Other wounded men were already sprawled there among the sacks and chests of treasure.

The next time the Patzinaks swept past, Orm’s men shot their last arrows at them. As they did so, however, they heard from behind them a great cry of joy.

“The old man’s prophecy is fulfilled,” cried several voices. “Finn Sonesson has fallen! There is an arrow through his throat, and he is already dead! Kolbjörn, his brother, fell but a few moments ago. Four are now gone; the rest of us cannot die before we have returned home!”

And it turned out as they said, for as they ceased crying, the others heard the sound of war-whoops from the direction of the ship, signifying that Toke had landed with his men. The sight of them seemed to slake the Patzinaks’ thirst for battle, for as Orm’s men ran eagerly to search for spent arrows that might be used again, they heard the thunder of hoofs grow fainter instead of louder and at last die away in the distance.

Orm ordered his men not to kill any of the men who lay wounded on the ground. “Let them remain where they lie,” he said, “until their kinsmen come to collect them.”

Their own wounded, those who were unable to walk, were lying in the wagon. Seven others lay dead on the ground, and these the men took up and carried with them, that they might give them honorable burial as soon as the opportunity arose. In the meantime, however, they made haste to return to the ship before the Patzinaks should return.

Faste’s scribe had disappeared; but when they went to pull the cart forward, they discovered him asleep beneath it. He was roused with a spear-shaft and was much mocked. He said that this fight had been no concern of his, since he was a state official whose business was collecting taxes, and he had not wished to be in anyone’s way, besides which, he had been tired after the night’s marching. The men admitted that it testified to his calmness of mind that he had been able to sleep throughout the battle.

They soon met Toke and his men, and there was great rejoicing on both sides. Toke had disposed of the enemy without much difficulty; as soon as he had come against them with war-whoops and arrows, they had turned and fled. The men thought it possible that they, too, had used up all their arrows.

When they arrived at the ship, Orm looked around him. “Where are the two boys?” he asked Toke.

“The boys?” replied Toke. “You had them with you.”

“I sent them along the bank to call you to our aid,” said Orm in a changed voice.

“What can have become of them?” said Toke, scratching his beard. “I heard hoofbeats and war-cries and saw the Patzinaks ride toward us and wheel their horses, and at once rowed ashore to help you. But I have seen nothing of the boys.”

One of Toke’s men said that, just before the ship had reached the bank, he had seen three Patzinaks emerge on foot from among the rocks, dragging something along; dead men, he had supposed, or possibly prisoners. They had dragged them toward their horses; but, he said, he had not given the matter more thought, because at that moment the ship had touched land and he had started thinking about the forthcoming battle.

Orm stood speechless. He took off his helmet and let it drop to the ground; then he sat down on a stone on the bank and stared into the river. There he sat, motionless, and none of the men dared speak to him.

The men stood muttering among themselves and gazed at him; and even Toke knew not what to say. Spof and Faste’s scribe carried the wounded aboard.

At length Orm rose to his feet. He walked up to Toke and unclipped from his belt his sword, Blue-Tongue. All the men opened their mouths in fear as they saw him do this.

“I am going to the Patzinaks,” he said. “Wait here with the ship for three days. If Blackhair returns, give the sword to him. If none of us returns, take it home for Harald.”

Toke took the sword.

“This is bad,” he said.

“Divide the treasure fairly,” said Orm, “as it would have been divided had I lived. It has brought little luck to us of Toste’s line.”