TLV - 03 - The Sign of the Raven by Poul Anderson
Authors: Poul Anderson
Tags: Historical Novel
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understanding, I will make you powerful."
"I thank you, my lord," said Carl. "I looked not for reward; 'twas enough to serve my king." Svein, who knew his yeomen, had certain doubts of this, but remained silent. "Yet if I may, my lord, I've one more thing to ask of you." "And what may that be?"
"If, well, if I may take my old woman with me."
Svein's face colored a bit, and he grinned. "No, that I will not allow," he said, "for I've chosen another wife for you, who is far better and wiser. Let the one you now have keep your old steading in Halland; she can manage that, and get her living from it."
Carl wrestled with his conscience, but not for long. Good acres were hardly to be refused, nor his wife's stringy flesh to be kept in favor of a bouncing broad-hipped young wench. He thanked the king mightily. In later years, he became a great man in Denmark.
IV
Of Haakon Ivarsson
1
Haakon went home at once to his Upland garth, and stayed there through the winter; but Oslo buzzed with talk about him for his part in the Niss battle. Harald, who was dwelling in the town, heard much of this, and liked it little. Granted, the jarl had done well, but there had been other men in the fight, and who had taken the Danish flagship?
Such thoughts led him on to the uselessness of the whole affair. Fame and plunder had been gained, naught else. All the booty in Denmark could not buy him back the years he had lost.
It made him harsh of tongue and judgment. Only Ulf could have softened his words, and the marshal was wintering on his Throndheim estate. Elizabeth was mute under her husband's quick anger, hoping the mood would go away in time. Thora gave him as good as she got, and this brought many quarrels between them.
On a leaden day shortly after the new year had come, Harald went to look at his hoard. He kept most of it in a locked outbuilding, under trustworthy guard, and liked to go in and tell it over once in a while.
This time he left the door ajar for the sake of light. A damp, quiet was cold in the air; his skin prickled beneath its furs and his fingers were numb. He rubbed them together, looking thoughtfully at the chests and casks. There were not as many as there had been. He had given much away, as a king must, or sold it to pay for his wars. But it was still a mighty trove, and it should have cheered him.
Today it would not. He opened a chest. Coins glistened dustily—Byzantine, Arabic, English, Irish, German, Northern. Atop them lay a string of pearls, a gold-hilted scimitar, and a velvet robe trimmed with ermine. He saw that moths had been eating the robe.
Even thus, even thus ... his years were being nibbled away, and what had he to show for them? A backward kingdom and a famous name spoken in hatred as often as not. He had cut down hostile chiefs, but had not broken chiefship itself; he had slain foemen, but their sons would grow up to bear an unforgiving spear; he had defied the Pope, but the Church would outlive him. He remained a giant, but he could no longer go days on end without sleep while fighting a battle, bedding a woman, and joining a drinking bout. The veins in his big scarred hands stood forth like ropes, his hair grew dull and his eyes farsighted. He had begotten two princes, and one of them was ever at odds with him while the other was a stranger.
He thought, briefly, of trying to get more sons with some new woman. His wife and leman seemed both to have become barren. But no, two healthy boys were enough. A third might easily start a war for the throne.
Did he really think that, or—a tired smile dragged at his mouth—did he simply not wish to face the thunders and lightnings which Thora would pour on him?
The room was darkened, and he looked about to see Elizabeth in the doorway. "Oh," she said in a nearly frightened voice. "I saw the door was open and no guards about, and thought—"
She started to go. "Come in if you wish," said Harald. "Am I such a dragon?"
She entered quickly.
"I thank you, my lord," said Carl. "I looked not for reward; 'twas enough to serve my king." Svein, who knew his yeomen, had certain doubts of this, but remained silent. "Yet if I may, my lord, I've one more thing to ask of you." "And what may that be?"
"If, well, if I may take my old woman with me."
Svein's face colored a bit, and he grinned. "No, that I will not allow," he said, "for I've chosen another wife for you, who is far better and wiser. Let the one you now have keep your old steading in Halland; she can manage that, and get her living from it."
Carl wrestled with his conscience, but not for long. Good acres were hardly to be refused, nor his wife's stringy flesh to be kept in favor of a bouncing broad-hipped young wench. He thanked the king mightily. In later years, he became a great man in Denmark.
IV
Of Haakon Ivarsson
1
Haakon went home at once to his Upland garth, and stayed there through the winter; but Oslo buzzed with talk about him for his part in the Niss battle. Harald, who was dwelling in the town, heard much of this, and liked it little. Granted, the jarl had done well, but there had been other men in the fight, and who had taken the Danish flagship?
Such thoughts led him on to the uselessness of the whole affair. Fame and plunder had been gained, naught else. All the booty in Denmark could not buy him back the years he had lost.
It made him harsh of tongue and judgment. Only Ulf could have softened his words, and the marshal was wintering on his Throndheim estate. Elizabeth was mute under her husband's quick anger, hoping the mood would go away in time. Thora gave him as good as she got, and this brought many quarrels between them.
On a leaden day shortly after the new year had come, Harald went to look at his hoard. He kept most of it in a locked outbuilding, under trustworthy guard, and liked to go in and tell it over once in a while.
This time he left the door ajar for the sake of light. A damp, quiet was cold in the air; his skin prickled beneath its furs and his fingers were numb. He rubbed them together, looking thoughtfully at the chests and casks. There were not as many as there had been. He had given much away, as a king must, or sold it to pay for his wars. But it was still a mighty trove, and it should have cheered him.
Today it would not. He opened a chest. Coins glistened dustily—Byzantine, Arabic, English, Irish, German, Northern. Atop them lay a string of pearls, a gold-hilted scimitar, and a velvet robe trimmed with ermine. He saw that moths had been eating the robe.
Even thus, even thus ... his years were being nibbled away, and what had he to show for them? A backward kingdom and a famous name spoken in hatred as often as not. He had cut down hostile chiefs, but had not broken chiefship itself; he had slain foemen, but their sons would grow up to bear an unforgiving spear; he had defied the Pope, but the Church would outlive him. He remained a giant, but he could no longer go days on end without sleep while fighting a battle, bedding a woman, and joining a drinking bout. The veins in his big scarred hands stood forth like ropes, his hair grew dull and his eyes farsighted. He had begotten two princes, and one of them was ever at odds with him while the other was a stranger.
He thought, briefly, of trying to get more sons with some new woman. His wife and leman seemed both to have become barren. But no, two healthy boys were enough. A third might easily start a war for the throne.
Did he really think that, or—a tired smile dragged at his mouth—did he simply not wish to face the thunders and lightnings which Thora would pour on him?
The room was darkened, and he looked about to see Elizabeth in the doorway. "Oh," she said in a nearly frightened voice. "I saw the door was open and no guards about, and thought—"
She started to go. "Come in if you wish," said Harald. "Am I such a dragon?"
She entered quickly.
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