An Antic Disposition by Alan Gordon Page B

Rome.”
    “Well, he’s … wait, they’re coming in.”
    It had been agreed that the three kings would enter the hall simultaneously so as not to assert any claim to superiority. In actuality, although the three doors were flung open by the serving thralls at the same time, Valdemar and Knud were the ones who came into the hall, accompanied by their men. As all eyes turned toward the rear of the hall, Sveyn Peder made his entrance, Archbishop Eskil of Lund at his side. Knud looked troubled by the apparent endorsement of his rival by the Church, while Valdemar smiled, amused by the petty display.
    Sveyn held his arms out to the assembled diners.
    “Good friends, my brother kings, you are welcome in Roskilde,” he said. “Our responsibilities are great, and our burdens heavy. Let this night mark the easing of our spirits, the removal of care and woe, the lifting of the dark cloud of war from our great lands. Gentlemen, I ask His Holiness to give a benediction.”
    Eskil stepped forward. “In the name of the Holy Father, I bless this union of former rivals. Let peace come to us all, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”
    “I thank our host and His Holiness,” said Knud. “And I have one more piece of joy to bring to the table. I am pleased to announce that my sister, Sophie, is betrothed to my brother king, Valdemar. May the joining of our two families mirror the reconciliation of all the Danes.”
    “I thank you, my brother,” replied Valdemar courteously. “For so I must call you now with all my heart.”
    “Well,” said Sveyn. “Such tidings are ever welcome. Our feast is thrice blessed. Let it begin.”
    Goblets were lifted and toasts drunk, and the fools began to perform in earnest. The serving thralls moved in and out of the room, bringing heaping plates of stew and bread, keeping the ale flowing freely.
    Gerald and Larfner finished the Two Brothers to applause from all sides, and stepped over to a side table near Valdemars group to partake of what was set out for them.
    “A happy room, I think,” said Larfner. “It’s going quite well. I told you that we could get by without Leif.”
    “Did you see Sveyn’s face when Knud announced the marriage?” chuckled Gerald. “He hadn’t a clue that that was in the works. You’re right, I think he was relieved.”
    He put down his cup and slung his bag around to the front to pull out his juggling clubs. As he did so, one of the serving thralls collided with him.
    “I beg your pardon, good sir,” said Gerald jovially.
    The thrall shot him a nasty glance, then looked back down at the floor and walked off. Gerald felt a chill run through his body as he saw the man’s face. He glanced about the room at the other servants.
    “Still think the two of us are enough?” he asked Larfner softly. “What are you talking about?” asked Larfner.
    “The serving thralls,” said Gerald. “I know every one of them, and none of them is here. They’ve been replaced by Wend mercenaries. Are two fools enough to face a company of Wends?”
    Larfner looked around the room, doing a quick count.
    “There’s at least twenty of them,” he said. “We have to warn the kings. I’ll take Knud.”
    He struck up a tune and ambled toward the far side of the room. Gerald casually took up his staff that was leaning against the wall, then walked along the sideboard until he was behind Valdemar. He leaned forward.
    “Be on your guard, milord,” he muttered. “This is a trap.”
    Valdemars expression never changed, but he quietly loosened his sword in its scabbard and shifted his stool back from the table.
    Gerald was about to alert Valdemars companions when he saw the Wend who had confronted him earlier in the day. Now, he was approaching with a platter of freshly baked loaves of bread.
    The knife on the tray looked much sharper than a bread knife.
    Gerald stepped toward him, sliding the end of his staff in front of the Wends feet. The soldier tripped, the