A look of dawning realisation came over the merchant’s face and Vali knew he had said too much.
Veles spoke in a hush. ‘One moment. Did Forkbeard approve of this little trip of yours? He didn’t, did he? No wonder he didn’t give you a drakkar.’ Then his look turned to one of mild horror. ‘Have you Forkbeard’s permission to be here at all?’ he said.
‘I am a prince of the Horda, not the Rygir.’
Veles shook his head. ‘That sounds as good as a no to me. Oh dear, oh dear. What did you think you were going to do about Hemming? Sit there and broker some peace you couldn’t deliver?’
Vali saw there was no use in pretending to the merchant.
‘I could think of no other excuse for being here.’
‘Is that in itself not an indication that you shouldn’t have come? Go back to Rogaland. Now. Have you any idea of the danger you’ve placed yourself in? Hemming sits at the centre of a web of competing interests. If you don’t have Forkbeard’s blessing, he’ll be almost bound to take you as a hostage whether he wants to or not. He’ll say you’re here as his guest, but you’ll be lucky if you see Rogaland ever again.’
Vali couldn’t tell if it was the wine or just the need to unburden himself to someone he respected, to gain the benefit of Veles’ advice. He decided to tell the truth.
‘I will never see Rogaland again.’
‘Why not?’
‘We are outlaws,’ said Vali.
Veles almost ducked as if anticipating a blow.
‘What in the name of nine kinds of devil have you done?’
Vali shrugged. ‘It was more to do with politics than actions.’
Veles had to restrain himself from plucking the wine cup out of Vali’s fingers and shoving him through the door.
‘Are you an outlaw in Hordaland?’
‘No,’ said Vali.
‘So you’ve still some connections.’ Veles thought for a moment. ‘Look, you must leave here tonight and go with one of my men to a place of safety. You can take your boat down the coast and wait in the forest. It is too dangerous for you here. Hemming will soon discover you’ve been outlawed — he has men in all the kingdoms. He may even want to ransom you to your father or Forkbeard. If Haarik comes back here he will sue to have you killed.’
‘I’m going after the girl,’ said Vali.
‘I will send out for word of her, but you must come away. Immediately.’ He actually took the wine cup from Vali’s lips.
Vali could see his old friend was serious. ‘Now?’ he said. He eyed the luxurious piles of furs used for beds.
‘Now.’
Vali went to the others and they gathered their few possessions. Bragi was drunk and complained loudly about going back to a freezing boat but Feileg said nothing, just followed on.
‘Six bends of the river, the opposite way to where you came in. I’ll meet you there,’ said Veles. ‘I can’t go with you. It’s bad enough that I’ve entertained you here. Why didn’t you tell me your situation from the beginning? We could have done all this very differently. Just follow the hill down to the water. Your boat will be where you left it.’
‘Thank you,’ said Vali. ‘I won’t forget this.’
‘Forget it — just not before you’ve sent me a large gift,’ said Veles. He kissed Vali on the cheeks in the Obotrite way and pushed him out into the night.
The men made their way down to the quay. Haithabyr at night was beautiful: a deep field of stars shining down on the town, a thousand tiny flames of hearth and candle flickering out as if in response. It seemed friendly, the country around something hostile. The dark beyond the town seemed to bristle with unseen malevolent forces: mountainsides with their murderous drops, sucking mires, trackless moors and above all a vast emptiness that meant that, should you need help, there was no one to reach out to. That, though, was where they were going. In the distance he heard a wolf howl. It set the town’s dogs grumbling from unseen shelters. Their noise, almost human in its complaint, made him wish he could stay in Haithabyr, safe by the fire, rather than venturing out onto unknown waters.
But then a figure stepped across his path. At first he thought nothing of it, but the man didn’t move. Someone else joined him, then a third and a fourth. Vali looked behind him. In silhouette he could see the shape of shields and spears. There must have been twenty men. He looked at Bragi and the wolfman. He glanced left. Another dark shape crossed the alleyway and stopped. So right then. There was no need for words. The three set off as one. They ran parallel to the water, up a slight slope along a narrow lane through the houses. At points Vali had to duck as the roofs came low, nearly touching each other. He could hardly see and blundered forward in the dark, slipping on the slick planks of the path in an uncomfortable compromise between caution and haste. Never mind. If he couldn’t see well, neither could their pursuers.
The lights of candles and fires from open doorways trailed past him, golden smears in the dark, and then, to his left, a light of a different colour and size — a gleam of silver there and then gone, like a blade flashing from the scabbard of the dark. The water.
‘Here,’ he said, hoping Bragi and Feileg were still behind him. They ran up the hill, quick as they could on the slippery logs, but there were shadows about them again, moving across the path. Vali turned across the slope once more, but their way was blocked, not by warriors but by a wall of earth. The town had ramparts. They were surrounded on all sides. The figures didn’t close on them but remained at a distance.
Bragi was at his ear. ‘Get ready to take your place with your ancestors in Odin’s halls,’ he said.
‘I’ll ask no one there to make space at the bench for me yet,’ said Vali. There were people all around him now, some with burning torches. They were nobles, he could see. Some had spears but there were swords too — one of them drawn. ‘If there was ever a time to play the prince, this is it,’ said Vali.
He drew himself up to his full height and strode towards the men in front of him.
‘My word, I thought you were pirates. What are you men doing skulking about in the dark?’
‘We are kinsman to Hemming, king of Denmark, mighty ruler whose ships are numberless,’ said a voice.
‘At last you come. So slow a welcome does King Hemming bring that I betook myself to mount my wave steed once more. Truly, it seems that I shall eat sooner at my father’s table ten days hence, following the mackerel’s backs to Hordaland, than wait on Danish hospitality.’ Vali tried to speak like a prince, to be received like one.
A voice spoke back. ‘We are sorry for our tardiness. The king does not reside here, and it took time for word of your arrival to reach us. We are as apologetic as Geirroth when to Odin he did refuse the gift of mead.’
‘Didn’t Geirroth fall on his sword?’ said Bragi under his breath.
‘Your words are sweet as Idun’s apples,’ said Vali. ‘We greet you, Hemming’s men, brave spear Danes and sons of honour.’
Vali was now face to face with the man who had first blocked his path. The warrior was richly dressed, a gold brooch glinting like another candle in the dark and at his waist a fine sword, its scabbard picked out in gemstones. He was tall and thin, and by his bearing a formidable warrior.
‘I am Skardi, son of Hrolf,’ said the man, ‘trusted adviser to Hemming the Great, foe of the Franks and protector of the Danes, he who takes tribute from eight kingdoms and whose glory shall last until the gods destroy us.’
‘I am Vali, son of Authun the Pitiless, scourge of the north, most feared lord in this Middle Earth. I am ward to Forkbeard, king of the Rygir, whose name resounds everywhere beneath the skull of the sky god.’
Vali glanced to his left. Bragi had the wolfman by the arm and was speaking into his ear. Feileg’s eyes were wild as they had been at the slave market and he looked ready to attack. Vali remembered what he had thought of berserks the first time he had seen them operate and wondered how he had found himself with this man, next to whom the followers of the cult of Odin seemed models of restraint.
‘Forgive my retainer,’ said Vali. ‘He seeks only to protect me in a strange land.’
Skardi pursed his lips. ‘Tell him he will find my men harder work than any slaver. They have fed the eagles until they are too fat to fly.’
