Beyond the entry, where they left their weapons and cloaks, the main room reached a hundred feet. On this murky day shadows shifted everywhere about in it. The air lay blue and sharp with smoke, which was not rising well. However, many lighted lamps were set forth, not only of clay but polished stone and finely wrought bronze. Light also flickered from the fires on hearthstones along the floor. It touched on wainscots and hangings behind the platform benches that lined the walls and were also chests for storage. Graven with the shapes of gods, heroes, and beasts, the pillars upholding the crossbeams seemed half-alive.
Rushes rustled under Queen Gro’s feet as she strode to the high seat where King Svipdag sat, at the middle of the east wall. She went fearless, her face stiff, a tall woman still handsome to behold. Above her pleated linen undergown, silver brooches at the shoulders linked the loops of embroidered front-and-back apron panels. Embroidered likewise was the kerchief covering the brown coils of her hair. The right brooch also clasped a loop of fine chain from which dangled the keys of her own household. Amber beads glowed around her neck and gold rings gleamed on her wrists.
“Greeting and welcome,” said the king, carefully rather than heartily. “Come sit beside me. Let your followers take their ease. There is mead for all, and a feast under way.”
Gro watched him for a span before she answered, “Well, since you asked me to come here, I should think you would make ready for me.”
He was a big man of some forty winters, his dark hair and pointed beard beginning to grizzle. Two scars seamed a thick-boned, hook-nosed face. He too was well garbed, in furtrimmed kirtle, blue breeks, and elkhide shoes. She could easily enough understand his Norse burr.
He stiffened at her haughtiness, curbed himself, and said, “I mean to show you more honor than I hear has been yours lately. But if you will not talk with me, you can go home tomorrow”
“Oh, I have given thought to this since your messenger came,” she told him. “We shall talk.”
She stepped up to the high seat and settled herself. He beckoned her guards to take places nearby and shouted for the serving folk, as loudly as if he were aboard ship. Soon everyone had a brimful horn but her, who got a goblet of South-land glass. Svipdag signed his with the Hammer. “Let us drink to peace between us,” he said.
“Peace for now, at least,” said Gro.
“May it be for always.”
“We shall see about that, shall we not?”
Nonetheless, tautness slackened off a little. Over the years she had gotten men into her hire, one by one, who felt more beholden to her than to King ‘Gram. Some were Swedes or Geats. These she had brought with her. They were not unwilling to drink, eat, swap tales, and make merry with Svipdag’s Norse. Meanwhile she and he spoke together in undertones.
Next day they met alone in a loft room of the hall. Long were they there. Sundown was close, unseen through a fog that swirled and dripped outside, when he said, “We seem to be coming to an understanding. If you will wed me, you shall have queenly honors here in Denmark.”
She knew well that he had a wife at home in Ranriki, and two more in the neighboring lands that he had made his. This she did not care much about. He would seldom be with her either. Gram had left her side before his death, not briefly for a leman but altogether for Signy. She, Gro, was the daughter of a king, whom Gram had slain.
“For this, I am to give you my help and counsel,” she said.
He nodded. “The Danes are not glad of me. But I want no more from them than what belongs to a king, landholdings, scot, honor, and defense against raiders. I will not often be here, nor will I take Danish levies abroad. My mark is Svithjod, which welters leaderless. I cannot overmaster it unless Denmark stays quiet at my back. Aid me to that, Gro, and you shall be queen also among the Swedes and Geats—your folk.”
“To that end,” she said slowly, “you must bring the great men among the Danes to agreement, jarls, sheriffs, chieftains.”
“Even so.” Svipdag spoke harshly. He would have liked better to overwhelm anybody who gainsaid him.
“It begins with Gram’s close kin, his cousins, his daughters by different women, their fosterers and husbands,” she went on. “You must give them not only surety, but weregild according to how near in blood they are.”
“With you beside me in rede and deed, I hope this may be done.”
“Some will say no. They can be set on and killed, unless they flee the land first. It will bring others to a kindlier mood.”
“Yon Signy could have her throat cut out of hand,” said Svipdag with a grin.
Gro shook her head. “No. That would only enrage her friends and her father. You can ill afford the trouble he could make for you. Let the Finn-woman go back to him.” She spat it out. In truth, though, Signy’s blood was Norse.
Svipdag barked a laugh. “Already you begin earning the morrow I will give you.”
She stared straight into his eyes. “You shall have no more from me, but only ill will and whatever harm I can do, unless I get one thing above all others.”
“I think I know what that is,” Svipdag growled.
She nodded. “You must recall my son, Gudorm, swear peace with him, and give him a high standing. For this I came here when you asked, and I will take no less.”
“Well, I will try,” Svipdag said, “but what if he will not?”
“We shall see how that goes,” Gro answered. “Bring my son to me and let me speak with him.”
The upshot was that Signy sold what she had to buy a ship and hire a crew. In spring, when weather allowed, she
