TLV - 02 - The Road of the Sea Horse by Poul Anderson
Authors: Poul Anderson
Tags: Historical Novel
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Clever
1
In spring Harald knew that both his queens were again with child and the house he owned would be too small before many years had passed, the more so when his court was growing in size and splendor. He ordered a new place built near the river, below the Lady Church, and told his steward to spare no cost.
This dwelling was to be one of the finest yet seen in the North. Its buildings lay around a courtyard which was paved but in which two ancient oaks were let stand. At the north side, above the foreroom, was the hall, with a chamber overlooking the street that led to the river docks. From this a landing led to the downward stairs; and from this landing one could walk onto a gallery above yard and street, under a steep, shingled roof and past dragon-headed beams. The hall was flanked by two lesser houses, one for each of the queens, and those beyond held servants, horses, and treasure. The main entrance to the courtyard was on the south side. Some hundreds of folk could find shelter here.
In those months Harald felt himself lucky: a son, perhaps two more boys on the way, his women happy, and the challenge to a final combat which Svein had sent.
There was grumbling through the land when half its men were again called out. Yeoman plowed their fields wondering if they would ever come back to harvest them; men looked at hillsides and forests with a sharp knowledge that this might be their last springtime on earth. Still, the fleet was readied and gathered, and early in summer it steered by Konungahella.
Harald stood on the foredeck of his dragon when they reached the meeting place. A light rain blurred the world; now and then the sun flung bright spears down between the clouds to glisten on wet planks. Where the Gota River met the sea, lay a cluster of fishermen's huts, dark-wooded, raindrops caught glittering in their thatch. A few people gaped from the beaches.
"Svein is late," said Thjodholf the skald.
Harald frowned. After the eagerness of his southward voyage, this was an empty feeling, like a puffed-up bladder pricked and hissing itself small. Harshly, he told off a few men to go ashore and find out what had happened to the Danish king.
The ships rocked at anchor, one broad reach of hulls around the curving strand. The air held a sour smell of rain-soaked wool and a belly rumble of sullen voices. Harald sprawled on a bench, rose to pace the crowded deck, flung himself back to his seat. A long time passed before his men returned in the boat.
"Well?" he barked.
"We found some carles, my lord, who said they had heard the Danes were lying to south of Sealand."
"And not coming here?"
"They'd heard no talk of that, my lord, and surely if King Svein meant to steer hither he'd have sent folk ahead to arrange for provisions and—"
Harald turned his back with a snarl. His voice came thickly: "Summon the chiefs. We must decide what to do."
The captains were rowed to his dragon and came aboard: sheriffs, great landowners, Jarl Orm Eilifsson, Eindridhi Einarsson. They filled the benches together with Harald's best guardsmen; the rest of his crew he had sent ashore to make room. He stood in the bow, under the gilt snake head, and glowered at them.
"Well," he said, "after his fine words to us, Svein Estridhsson has once more shown himself a coward. He's skulking with his levy around the islands, and the question is whether we should try to find him or go take his land while he is away."
Eindridhi stood up. "Neither, my lord," he answered. "We came here to fight an honest war, not to play Viking. Svein cannot be fought if he does not wish to be, his rowers are as good as ours; and if we seize Denmark as was done last year, the upshot will be the same."
Harald shook his fists in the air. "It's like trying to grasp water!" he burst out. "Boneless, strengthless, but it will not be caught. The only way is to dam it at the source. ... I mean we should overrun Denmark though we take three years, and hold
1
In spring Harald knew that both his queens were again with child and the house he owned would be too small before many years had passed, the more so when his court was growing in size and splendor. He ordered a new place built near the river, below the Lady Church, and told his steward to spare no cost.
This dwelling was to be one of the finest yet seen in the North. Its buildings lay around a courtyard which was paved but in which two ancient oaks were let stand. At the north side, above the foreroom, was the hall, with a chamber overlooking the street that led to the river docks. From this a landing led to the downward stairs; and from this landing one could walk onto a gallery above yard and street, under a steep, shingled roof and past dragon-headed beams. The hall was flanked by two lesser houses, one for each of the queens, and those beyond held servants, horses, and treasure. The main entrance to the courtyard was on the south side. Some hundreds of folk could find shelter here.
In those months Harald felt himself lucky: a son, perhaps two more boys on the way, his women happy, and the challenge to a final combat which Svein had sent.
There was grumbling through the land when half its men were again called out. Yeoman plowed their fields wondering if they would ever come back to harvest them; men looked at hillsides and forests with a sharp knowledge that this might be their last springtime on earth. Still, the fleet was readied and gathered, and early in summer it steered by Konungahella.
Harald stood on the foredeck of his dragon when they reached the meeting place. A light rain blurred the world; now and then the sun flung bright spears down between the clouds to glisten on wet planks. Where the Gota River met the sea, lay a cluster of fishermen's huts, dark-wooded, raindrops caught glittering in their thatch. A few people gaped from the beaches.
"Svein is late," said Thjodholf the skald.
Harald frowned. After the eagerness of his southward voyage, this was an empty feeling, like a puffed-up bladder pricked and hissing itself small. Harshly, he told off a few men to go ashore and find out what had happened to the Danish king.
The ships rocked at anchor, one broad reach of hulls around the curving strand. The air held a sour smell of rain-soaked wool and a belly rumble of sullen voices. Harald sprawled on a bench, rose to pace the crowded deck, flung himself back to his seat. A long time passed before his men returned in the boat.
"Well?" he barked.
"We found some carles, my lord, who said they had heard the Danes were lying to south of Sealand."
"And not coming here?"
"They'd heard no talk of that, my lord, and surely if King Svein meant to steer hither he'd have sent folk ahead to arrange for provisions and—"
Harald turned his back with a snarl. His voice came thickly: "Summon the chiefs. We must decide what to do."
The captains were rowed to his dragon and came aboard: sheriffs, great landowners, Jarl Orm Eilifsson, Eindridhi Einarsson. They filled the benches together with Harald's best guardsmen; the rest of his crew he had sent ashore to make room. He stood in the bow, under the gilt snake head, and glowered at them.
"Well," he said, "after his fine words to us, Svein Estridhsson has once more shown himself a coward. He's skulking with his levy around the islands, and the question is whether we should try to find him or go take his land while he is away."
Eindridhi stood up. "Neither, my lord," he answered. "We came here to fight an honest war, not to play Viking. Svein cannot be fought if he does not wish to be, his rowers are as good as ours; and if we seize Denmark as was done last year, the upshot will be the same."
Harald shook his fists in the air. "It's like trying to grasp water!" he burst out. "Boneless, strengthless, but it will not be caught. The only way is to dam it at the source. ... I mean we should overrun Denmark though we take three years, and hold
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