9: GOADING
When Halfdan awoke near the chilly mountain-top, the two women from Starheim were already awake; Siv chopping up some freshly-gathered plants with her belt-knife, Yngvild piling twigs for a camp-fire.
The younger woman saw Halfdan and said, "You were talking in your sleep."
"What did I say?"
"I couldn't understand most of the words," Yngvild said. "Something about King Lambi."
Halfdan said, "I had a very strange dream."
Yngvild said, "Tell it to my mother. She is skilled at interpreting the meaning of dreams."
So Halfdan described to them what he could remember of the dream -- how it had placed him and his now-dead king and his now-dead blood-brothers back together in the hall, "and the walls and the ceiling were covered with fire. Swirling sheets of flames covered almost everything. We were trapped. My friends and blood-brothers were running around and trying to find a way out and screaming in anger at the gods for letting this happen. Evil magic was at work. The heads of King Lambi's foes on the shelves that were used for candle-holders came alive again, laughing and hooting at us, grinning with eager eyes and snapping their dry jaws at us, as flames shot up from the holes in their skulls. The sacred boar-pig by the king-table turned into a real boar-pig. Outside, there was the sound of hungry wolves howling for blood. When the boar-pig knocked a hole through a wall to escape, we heard it squeal as wolves outside tore it apart. The fires inside got hotter, with the tables and chairs now covered in flames. I tried to talk to King Lambi, to explain that all this was caused by the treachery of King Njal and King Gunvald, but the roaring of the fire was so loud that he did not hear me. Then I was glad that he hadn't heard what I said, because the only reason I knew what was going on was because I had ran away, and I didn't want him to know that. I wondered if I really had ran away, because if I had, how could I now be back inside the burning hall?"
Siv and Yngvild were listening closely.
Halfdan continued, "It was impossible for me to really be in the hall, since I had run away. Everyone there was doomed, but I was safe, because I had run away and wasn't really there. The flames could not burn me. The jaws of the shelf-heads could not bite into my flesh. I took out my sword and stabbed it into my own belly. It stabbed in, but there was no blood and no pain; when I pulled it out, there was no hurt. I stabbed a spear into my left hand, cutting off my smallest finger, which wriggled on the floor for a moment, then jumped back onto my hand and re-attached itself. There was no scar. Somehow I used my spear to stab my own back, and again I was not harmed. With my sword again, I stabbed myself deeply in the chest, directly over my heart, but I was not harmed. Some magic was keeping me safe.
"But not anybody else. My blood-brothers were one-by-one bursting into flames, running around the hall with fire all over their bodies, until their charred legs broke and they crumbled to the floor, making piles of ashes that were picked up in the roaring wind and blown around with the swirling smoke. The Queen and some female servants were burning, their long and beautiful hair turned into torches, their silver necklaces and bracelets melting on blistered skin.
"I wanted to save King Lambi. Smoke was rising from his red silk gown and from his hair and beard. In a few moments, I knew, he would burst into flame and be gone forever. I thought of picking him up and carrying him through the burning walls. But I knew that the magic would only protect me from the flames, not him. Then King Lambi ran in front of me and said, 'Beer is the answer!' So I picked him up -- he was now the size of a child, and shrinking -- and carried him across the room to a big barrel of beer, somehow left untouched by the fire. King Lambi had shrunk to the size of a new-born baby when I lifted the lid of the full barrel and dropped him into the beer. The last thing he said before sinking down was, 'I'll be safe here for a while.' He sank under the surface with a frown on his tiny, baby-like face.
"By this time, I was the only one left in the hall. Except for King Lambi in the beer-barrel, everyone else had burned away and their ashes were blowing into my eyes, making them water. For a while, I walked around the hall, and it seemed that it was my hall now. I went to King Lambi's king-chair, which had not burned, and sat on it. I was breaking a rule, but nobody would know. I ate a bowl of fried onions that was on the unburned table in front of me, cooked for King Lambi. A platter of horse-meat sausages appeared on the table and I ate them too. More and more of King Lambi's food appeared on the table, and I ate them all until I felt thirsty. There was no cup on the table.
"So I went to the barrel of beer I had dropped King Lambi into, and lifted it up to my lips like a huge cup and drank. It was so cold and good that I couldn't stop myself from drinking it all. When I put the barrel down, it was empty. I had drank down King Lambi and he was inside me. So I walked to the burning wall where the escaping boar-pig had knocked a hole. The heat was terrible and all I could see was orange swirls. But my skin did not burn and soon I was outside.
"I saw dozens of grey-furred wolves outside, waiting for me. They leaped at me, their jaws gaping wide with yellow fangs, and I fought them with my own teeth -- biting their heads and backs, tossing their limp bodies to the side -- and killed them all except one, who ran away into the forest-shadows.
"I followed this surviving wolf into the woods, but soon I was lost. I wandered in the forest for a long time, until I came to a waterfall. It was peaceful there. I laid down on the mossy ground to rest, hearing the sound of water splashing into a little pool. I dreamed that I fell asleep, and I dreamed that I woke up here, right on the spot where I am now."
Siv said, "You dreamed that you woke up?"
"Yes, I've never had that kind of dream before," Halfdan said. "I dreamed that I was here, and I had to piss. I dreamed that my bladder was full from drinking the barrel of beer in the burning hall. So I got up and walked over there --" He pointed down-hill at a spot where there were some clumps of mountain-grass, a pile of grey stones. "I dreamed that I pissed there, and when I was finished, an oak-tree grew there, very quickly. The trunk and the branches of the tree were red with steaming blood and dripping with clots of flesh and brains. But the oak-leaves were all made of silver foil -- delicate, shiny, beautiful -- and in the wind the silver leaves all moved together and glittered, like sunlight on rippled water. And that was the end of my dream."
There was silence for a while.
"So what did it mean?" Halfdan said.
Siv said, "Dreams speak both of the past and the future. I think that the first part of your dream, in the burning hall, was of your past. You mourn King Lambi, and you feel guilty for running away."
"It takes little skill to figure that out," Halfdan said.
Siv continued, "Drinking from the beer-barrel means that King Lambi will live on inside you. Part of what he was is now part of you, and your future is not only your own. By drinking him, you let him possess you. When you drink in the future, you will then be especially close to what remains of him."
Halfdan said, "'What remains of him'? Nothing remains of him but ashes, mixed with the ashes of my friends. Don't try to sell me that Valhalla nonsense, about feasting in the sky with the gods. That stuff may be beautiful and poetic, but only a child or a fool thinks that life goes on after death."
"You don't have to be religious to believe in life after death," Siv said. "People live on in the memories of others."
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"Okay, I agree with that. Fame is the only real immortality. That I believe in."
Yngvild said, "What about the rest of the dream?"
"Like I said," Siv said, "the second part of the dream is about the future. Wolves mean the approach of danger, which you will defeat. But one foe will escape, to return later. The waterfall is a symbol of the gods. It seems that, though you may not believe in the gods, they believe in you. You will be their tool, for purposes beyond our understanding."
Halfdan was sceptical but said nothing.
Yngvild said, "And the oak?"
Siv said, "That is obvious. Odin speaks through that magic wood, and he wants you to know your fate. The blood covering the trunk and the branches show that your life will be full of violence and loss and crime. You will suffer much, do many bad things, and die unhappy."
Yngvild, upset, put a hand over her mouth and watched Halfdan closely.
Halfdan shrugged. "I don't care," he said.
Yngvild said, "And the silver leaves? Don't they foretell wealth and success?"
Siv said, "But for who? There may be wealth and success for him, or maybe for his children, or maybe for everybody in the kingdom. The symbolism is vague. But the overall picture of Halfdan's future is very dark."
"As dark as his face?" Yngvild said.
Siv made a half-smile at her daughter's joke, then went back to chopping plants for their breakfast.
After they ate, Yngvild asked Halfdan, "Where will you go now?"
Halfdan shrugged. "I would like to go nowhere. Just lie down and wait for worms to drag me underground."
Yngvild said, "What about justice?"
Halfdan sneered and said, "King Lambi and my friends are gone. Nothing I do will bring them back."
"So you will make peace with the killers?" Yngvild said.
"No, not that."
"If you don't go for justice," Yngvild said, "you will have no choice but peace with King Njal and King Gunvald. They will rule Fjordane and all will have to accept their rule."
"Or I can leave. Go into exile. That's all I deserve. My father was exiled when I was small; I could follow him east, try to find out where he went. Maybe he is still alive somewhere."
Siv said, "The life of an exile is wretched."
"But you predicted that my life is going to be wretched no matter what I do. So I might as well live out my wretched life in some outlandish place, where there will be less around to remind me."
Yngvild said, "People may call you a coward for that."
Halfdan's oak-brown eyes flashed with fury.
"Are you calling me a coward?" he shouted.
"No, no. I'm not. But other people might."
Halfdan gripped the ax and said, "If they do, I'll cut off their heads."
Yngvild continued, "Do you have a family?"
"Two aunts and two uncles and some cousins. Haven't seen any of them since last year."
"They will hear of the hall-burning, and that you ran away from it. They will hear that your king was murdered, and that you chose exile over justice. If your uncles and aunts and cousins call you a coward, will you come back from exile to cut off their heads too?"
Halfdan glared at her. "What do you know about it? This is man's business."
"'Man's business'?" Yngvild said, sarcastically. "But can a coward be a man?"
Siv snapped, "Enough! Yngvild, you go too far!"
Halfdan looked ready to jump to his feet and swing his ax at Siv's taunting daughter.
He said, "Hold your snake-tongue, bitch! Nobody calls me a coward!"
"Yet," Yngvild sneered.
Siv quickly stood up and grabbed her daughter's arm, pulling her away. "We are going to talk," Siv said, pulling Yngvild by an arm away from the furious Halfdan.
They went a few steps away, too far for Halfdan to hear them, and Siv said, "What are you doing? That man -- that man with an ax -- is a dangerous fighter, if not some kind of black troll, and you are goading him without any mercy! Why? Don't you know that a maddened dog will bite even a friendly hand? Why provoke him?"
Yngvild said, "Because I want justice, for our butchered and raped friends. He can help."
"Forget about what happened in Eid," Siv said.
"I can't."
Siv said, "I knew them longer than you did, and I will just go back to Starheim to get on with my life. That is what Maris and Jann would have wanted us to do. Mourn them, then move on. Halfdan is right -- revenge is man's business."
"Then think of me as your son. For I want it. You may have known Maris and Jann longer than I, but I knew them since my earliest childhood, played in front of their fire, stole sweets from their kitchen cupboard. I just can't walk away from all those memories without a protest. And what about Wenche? She was just a serving-girl, but we were close; after my husband left, she was really the only one who understood how I felt, because she had been abandoned too. Wenche was like a sister to me, and I can not just walk away from her fate. How many of Njal and Gunvald's men abused Wenche before the mercy of a cut neck? Do we live in a community where brutal crimes can happen to folk, and those who loved them do nothing?"
Siv said, "This anger did not begin two nights ago. You have been bitter for a long time. If you had a husband to go home to, would you feel this way?"
Yngvild was silent.
Siv said, "This will not bring Gunnar back."
"I do not want my treacherous husband back," Yngvild said. "I want justice."
"Call it revenge. And it is a dangerous game."
"Then stay out of it, mother, and let me do what I want."
When they walked back to Halfdan, he said to Yngvild, "You were right. I have decided to get revenge on King Njal and King Gunvald. Kill them both and preserve my reputation. I am not a coward and will give nobody a reason to say that."
Yngvild said, "Good for you," and smiled at him for the first time.
Siv scowled, saying, "How will you kill them?"
"I don't know."
Yngvild said, "All you need to do is get close enough to them to throw a spear or shoot an arrow. By the time anybody figures out what happened, you will be gone."
"I can't do that."
"If you aren't skilled with those weapons, let me help you. I'm a good archer, and can even hit a running squirrel with an arrow. Help me get close enough to them and I'll do it."
Siv stood, still scowling, and walked away.
Halfdan said to Yn
gvild, "That's not what I meant. I'm a good shot with a bow too, and can throw a spear well. But I don't like your plan. It is shameful to do a sneak-murder. Men should be killed face-to-face, so they know who killed them. And besides, kings have so many bodyguards that I would never get close enough. What is wrong with your mother?"
Yngvild moved to sit on a rock closer to Halfdan and said, "She is just moody. What making about a kind of trap, like for wild beasts? Dig a hole in the ground where the kings are going to walk, put spikes on the bottom, hide the hole."
Halfdan shook his head. "That's also a kind of sneak-murder. And it wouldn't work, because kings always walk around in the middle of a crowd. A few bodyguards in front might fall in, that's all. And how would I know where these kings planned to go for a stroll? That plan would take too much luck to succeed."
"Then what are you going to do?"
"Go home to Os and get some men to join me. A group is stronger than just one man."
Yngvild said, "I said, I'm good with an arrow."
"And I said, revenge is man's business."
"The killing part may be, but what about helping you? You were seen by some of the foes, and they must have told the kings that you escaped and what you look like. Fighters will be looking for you all over the kingdom, and the kings might have offered a reward for anyone who catches you and brings you to them. Your looks are easy to recognize. Anyone you meet could be an informer. How are you going to get from here all the way to Os without somebody seeing you?"
"I'll stay in the woods."
"What will you eat?"
"Animals, wild plants."
Yngvild thought for a while, then asked, "And how will you get across the fjord? Swim with that ax?"
"I can steal a boat."
"Easier said than done. Wouldn't you like me to come with you -- for some company in the woods, and an extra pair of eyes to look out for danger, and my bow and arrows to help you get out of trouble?"
"But you are a woman."
Before answering, Yngvild yawned and stretched both her arms back, causing her chest to bulge at Halfdan. She saw him look at the shirt-cloth tightening over her big breasts.
Yngvild said, "Yes, I am."
After a pause, Halfdan glanced down at the key on her belt and said, "Where is your husband?"
"I don't know. He left me."
"Why?"
"Because the unlucky fool gambled more silver on horse-fighting than he could afford to pay. I told him to fight a duel against the man he owed the silver to, so he could cancel the debt with spear and sword, but he was too afraid."
"You didn't want to go with him?"
"He didn't ask me. He just left and I hope the trolls get him. Anyway, listen to this. If you let me join you, I can go into the towns we pass. Nobody will be looking for me. I can buy food and ask questions, collecting information that can help you. And I can rent or buy a boat to get across the fjord."
"Do you have silver for a boat?"
"No. But you do. We can chop a piece off that."
She pointed at his silver belt-buckle.
Halfdan whined, "But this was my lord's first gift to me. I can't spend it."
"Yes you can! Because it wasn't a gift. It was a loan. Now it is time to pay it back. To revenge your murdered lord."
Halfdan said, "Why do you want me to do this? Because of your murdered friends?"
"Yes."
"And is that why Siv is so upset?"
"My mother wants to keep me out of danger." As if making herself more comfortable, Yngvild moved her legs slightly apart. That pulled the cloth of her dress up, showing Halfdan her leg up to her knee. He stared. Yngvild said, "She also wants to keep your body out of mine."
There was a silence.
"So can I travel with you to Os?"
"If you want," Halfdan said.
Yngvild smiled again, seeing that she ruled him. She said, "I'll tell my mother. We should leave soon. We have been sitting and talking up here long enough."
Halfdan said, "Siv is not coming with us too."
"I know," Yngvild said. "As a healer, she used to travel around a lot, and has friends in many different towns. We will find someplace safe to leave her."
Nothing worth describing happened until they walked down from the mountains and reached a town called Loen. Siv had friends there who would let Siv stay with them as long as she wanted.
"Don't go with that man," Siv told Yngvild in private. "Don't join your fate to his. I feel what is going to happen. If you go, I will never see you again!"
But Yngvild was stubborn. She walked alone into the woods, carrying a bag of food and blankets and other supplies, to where Halfdan was waiting for her in hiding.
News of the events in Eid had not yet reached the folk of Loen.
Halfdan and Yngvild walked along forest trails, north towards the fjord, and sometimes Halfdan's ax hacked a path through thick and unmarked woods. Halfdan did not talk much. To pass the time, Yngvild would ask him questions, like, "Who was the first man you killed?"
"His name was Knut the Loud," Halfdan said.
"Why did you kill him?"
"It was before I joined King Lambi. I was fourteen or fifteen years old. I was working for a shepherd in Os, who hired me to watch over his sheep in their grazing-land. Knut the Loud was my master's neighbour. Every day, Knut's sheep used to cross over the stream that divided the properties, and they would eat the grass on my master's side. I stopped that by throwing pebbles at Knut's sheep whenever they tried to cross, and soon they gave up and stayed on Knut's side. Knut did not like this -- nor did his wife like it, and she had a tongue like yours -- so one day he found me and tried to beat me with his walking-stick. I took the stick away from him and beat him with it, until he seemed dead, then I dragged him home to his wife. I told her what had happened, so nobody could charge me with sneak-murder. He wasn't dead after all, but died soon. My master only had to pay a little bit of silver to the widow, because the killing had been provoked."
"How many other men have you killed?"
"Over twenty. Less than thirty. One before I joined the hall, Knut, and the rest after, on King Lambi's orders."
"You don't know the exact number?"
"Sometimes you can't tell if you killed someone or just hurt them."
"What killing do you remember the most?"
Halfdan was silent for a while. Then he said, "I don't think about any of them much," and refused to answer any more of her questions for a while.
She saw that he was in a sour mood. Most men like to brag of their killings, but maybe Halfdan was different. A
t the next break, Yngvild told him to rest his head on her lap so that she could pick lice out of his hair and beard. There were lots of them, and fleas that hopped from her busy fingers, and one blood-fat tick. Her gentle grooming made Halfdan feel better. He closed his eyes as she worked on him, and he even smiled when she was done, saying, "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"Now I'll do it to you."
But he couldn't find any lice or fleas in her long yellow hair.
"How do you stay so clean?" he asked.
Lifting her head from his lap and standing up, she said, "I comb my hair every morning and, every bath-day, I soak it in a potion made from magic plants."
"I usually can't get a comb through my tangles," Halfdan said, gesturing at his puffed-out mass of black curls. "But I'd like to try that magic potion. I hate having those little beasts on me all the time."
"If I find the right plants, I'll make you some."
That night, after they ate and were sitting by a small fire, Yngvild said, "Now that it's only the two of us, I think we should talk about sleeping arrangements."
Halfdan looked at her, nervous.
"Why do we need to talk about that?" he said.
Yngvild said, "I've seen how you look at me. A fighter in a famous hall, working for a rich and generous king -- you're probably used to girls shamelessly throwing themselves at you, like cats in heat. You probably can't even remember the number of girls who have fallen for you. Probably don't think about any of them much. But that's not my fate. I'm no plaything."
"I didn't think anything like that. I know you're married."
"Yes, I am. Being abandoned doesn't change that. The proper way to handle the sleeping arrangements is for you to sleep over there --" she pointed at some shadowy bushes to her right "-- while I sleep over there." She pointed left, at other forest-shadows, far from the fire.
"Fine," Halfdan said.
"But," Yngvild said, "it is cold at night, and when the campfire goes down, having another body close makes it a lot easier to sleep. And good sleep keeps folk healthy. You don't want us to get sick in the middle of this adventure, do you?"
"No."
"It would be foolish to let ourselves get sick. We need to stay healthy. So I think we should sleep lying close together, but not touching. Just for warmth. Sharing our blankets, but nothing else. Can I trust you not to touch me?"
Late that night -- as they lay close but not touching, on a flat pile of soft spruce-branches, and under thick wool blankets made in Loen -- Yngvild whispered to Halfdan, "Are you still awake?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Thinking."
"Me too. And I'm cold."
"Do you want me to feed the fire another log?"
"I think we should sleep closer together."
"Then we would be touching."
"As long as it's innocent and only for warmth. Nothing more."
He moved closer to her. Very nervous, his heart pounding, he said, "Probably the warmest thing for you would be if I lay on top of you."
Also breathing faster than before, Yngvild whispered, "Good idea."
They stopped talking.
"You seduced me," Yngvild said afterwards, holding him close.
"I did," Halfdan said, sounding proud.
"Bad man. My mother was right about you."
Now they could sleep.
Their journey to Os took five days. Now and then, Yngvild would leave the forest to get food and information. From some beggar-women washing clothes at a stream, Yngvild learned that the new rulers of Fjordane had sent armed riders to many of the towns. Fighters from Sogn and Førde had rampaged through the towns, stealing all the silver they could find, killing anyone who resisted. "They call it tax-collecting," a beggar-woman said. They were also collecting men -- they had a list of names of nobles who had been close to King Lambi. Many of these folk were killed, and the rest were taken under guard to Eid. Yngvild asked if the "tax-collectors" had reached Loen yet. The beggar-women did not know.
"Are they looking for a fighter with dark looks, who ran away from the burning?"
One of the beggar-women had heard about that -- and that a reward of much silver had been offered for help catching or killing Halfdan.
Yngvild walked into a shore-town and tried to rent a boat to cross the fjord. As she was a stranger, and claimed to be travelling alone, folk were suspicious of her, and would not rent a boat to her. With a chopped-off piece of Halfdan's silver belt-buckle, she convinced a fisherman to sell her an old boat he did not use anymore.
They crossed the fjord at night. The wind and the waves were strong as Halfdan rowed. The wave-rocking of the boat, with the boat's strong smell of fish, made Halfdan sick; twice, he pulled in the oars and leaned over the side, throwing up oatmeal and bits of pig-meat sausage into the moon-reflecting water.
"Do you always get sea-sick on the water?" Yngvild asked.
"Usually, at first. I get used to it after a while, usually."
"But as a ship-raider, you must have sailed and rowed all over. That doesn't sound like a good job for you."
Halfdan said, "Sea-sickness was a small price to work for King Lambi. He was a great man, and the world will never see another like him."
"Are you crying?"
"No."
"You are. It's not shameful to mourn losing your king and so many friends."
"I'm not crying."
He started rowing again.