Kitabı oku: «The Long Ships: A Saga of the Viking Age»

CHAPTER FOUR
How Krok’s men came to Ramiro’s kingdom, and how they paid a rewarding visit

When Orm was old, and spoke of the adventures that had befallen him, he used to say that he had had little to complain of during the time that he was in Krok’s service, although he had joined his company so unwillingly. The blow he had received on his skull troubled him only for a few days; and he got on well with the men, so that, before long, they ceased to regard him as their prisoner. They remembered gratefully the good sheep that they had obtained from him, and he had other qualities that made him a good shipmate. He knew as many ballads as Berse, and had learned from his mother to speak them with the intonation of the bards; besides which, he could tell lie-stories so cunningly that you had to believe in them, though he admitted that, in this particular craft, he was Toke’s inferior. So they prized him as a good comrade, and a clever one, well able to while away the dreary hours agreeably for them during the long days when they had a good wind in their sail and were resting from their oars.

Some of the sailors were disgruntled because Krok had left Brittany without having first tried to get new supplies of fresh meat; for the food they had aboard was now beginning to smell old. The pork was rancid, the stockfish mildewed, the meal stale, the bread maggoty and the water sour; but Krok and those of his followers who had sailed on expeditions of this sort before asserted that this was as good fare as any sailor could wish for. Orm ate his rations with a good appetite, though, while he did so, he used often to tell the others of the delicacies to which he was accustomed at home. Berse remarked that it seemed to him to be a wise dispensation of the gods that a man could, when at sea, eat and enjoy food that, at home, he would not offer to his slaves or his dogs, but only to pigs; for, were it not so arranged, long sea-voyages would be exceedingly nauseating.

Toke said that the thing that troubled him most was the fact that the ale was now finished. He was, he assured them, not a fussy man, and he reckoned that he could stomach most things when necessity demanded it, not excluding his sealskin shoes, but only if he had good ale to wash them down. It would, he said, be a fearful prospect to envisage a life without ale, either on sea or ashore; and he questioned the Jew much concerning the quality of the ale in the country to which they were journeying without, however, being able to extract any very clear information from him on the subject. He told the others stories of great feasts and drinking-bouts that he had been present at, and mourned that he had not, on those occasions, drunk even more than he had.

Their second night at sea, a strong wind arose, driving high breakers, and they were glad that the sky remained clear, for they were steering by the stars. Krok began to wonder whether it would be wise to come out into the limitless sea; but the wisest sailors among them said that, however far you might sail to the south, you would always have land on your left, save only in the Njörva Sound,¹ where the waters led in to Rome, which stood at the centre of the world. Men who sailed from Norway to Iceland, said Berse, had a more difficult task, for they had no land in whose lee to shelter, but only the open sea, stretching away for ever on either bow.

The Jew knew all about the stars, and declared himself skilful at navigation; but in the event, he proved to be of little use to them, for his stars had different names to the ones they were used to, besides which, he was sea-sick. Orm suffered likewise, and he and Solomon hung over the gunwale together in great misery, thinking that they would die. The Jew wailed most piteously in his own language in the intervals of his vomiting; Orm told him to shut up, but he answered that he was crying to his god, who was in the storm wind. Then Orm grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and told him that, though he himself was in poor shape, he yet had enough strength to throw him over the side if he uttered one cry more, for there was sufficient wind about already without his bringing his god any nearer to them.

This quietened Solomon; and, towards morning, the wind lessened and the sea grew calm, and they both began to feel better. Solomon was very green in the face, but he grinned at Orm in a friendly way and seemed not to bear him any ill-will for his conduct of the night before, and pointed his finger across the sea at the sunrise. He sought among the words he knew and said that those were the red wings of the morning far out in the sea, and that his god was there. Orm replied that his god appeared to him to be the sort of divinity who was best kept at a respectable distance.

Later that morning, they discerned mountains far ahead of them. They pulled in to the shore, but had difficulty in finding a sheltered bay in which to anchor; and the Jew said that this part of the coast was strange to him. They went ashore, and came at once into conflict with the inhabitants of the place, who were numerous; but these soon fled, and Krok’s men ransacked their huts, returning with some goats and other food, as well as one or two prisoners. Fires were lit, and they all rejoiced at having reached land without mishap, and were glad to have the taste of roast meat once more on their tongues. Toke searched high and low for ale, but succeeded in discovering only a few skins of wine, which was so harsh and sour that, he said, he could feel his belly shrivelling as he swallowed it; so much so that he could not drink it all himself, but gave away what was left and sat alone for the rest of the evening singing sadly to himself, with tears in his beard. Berse warned them not to disturb him, for he was a dangerous man when he had drunk himself to weeping-point.

Solomon questioned the prisoners, and told the Vikings that they were now in the country of the Count of Castile, and that the place to which he wished to lead them lay far to the west. Krok said that they would have to wait for another wind to carry them in that direction, and that in the meantime they could do no more than rest and eat; though, he added, the situation might become awkward if strong hostile forces should attack them here, while the wind was blowing landwards, or if enemy ships should block their exit from the bay. But Solomon explained, as best he could, that there was little danger of this, for the Count of Castile had hardly any ships at sea, and it would take him some time to gather a sufficient force to cause them trouble. In former years, he told them, this Count of Castile had been a powerful ruler, but nowadays he was forced to bow the knee to the Moorish Caliph in Cordova, and even had to pay him tribute; for, saving only the Emperor Otto of Germany and the Emperor Basil of Constantinople, there was now no monarch in the world as powerful as the Caliph of Cordova. At this, the men laughed loudly, saying that the Jew was doubtless saying what he supposed to be the truth, but that he obviously knew little about the subject. Had he, they asked, never heard of King Harald of Denmark, and did he not know that there was no king in the world as mighty as he?

Orm was still groggy after his sea-sickness and had little appetite for food, which made him afraid that he might be sickening for something serious, for he worried continually about his health. He soon curled up in front of one of the fires, and fell into a deep sleep; but during the night, when the whole camp was still, Toke came and woke him. With tears streaming down his cheeks, he protested that Orm was the only friend he had, and said that he would like, if he might, to sing him a song that he had just remembered; it was about two bear cubs, he explained, and he had learned it as a child at his mother’s knee, and it was the most beautiful song he had ever heard. So saying, he sat down on the ground beside Orm, dried his tears and began to sing. Now it was a peculiarity with Orm that he found it difficult to be sociable when he had just been woken out of a sound sleep; however, he voiced no protest, but merely turned over on to his other side and tried to go back to sleep.

Toke could not remember much of his song, and this made him miserable again. He complained that he had been sitting alone all the evening, and that nobody had come to keep him company. What had hurt him most, he said, was the fact that Orm had not once given him so much as a friendly glance, to cheer him up; for he had always hitherto regarded Orm as his best friend, from the first moment that he had set eyes upon him; now, though, he realized that he was, after all, only a good-for-nothing blackguard like all Skanians; and when a puppy like him forgot his manners, a good sound hiding was the only remedy.

So saying, he got to his feet to look round for a stick; but Orm, who was by this time fully awake, sat up. When Toke saw him do this, he tried to aim a kick at him; but, as he raised his foot, Orm snatched a brand out of the fire and threw it in Toke’s face. Toke ducked in the middle of aiming his kick, and fell on his back, but he was on his feet again in an instant, white in the face and blind with rage. Orm, too, had leaped to his feet, so that they now stood facing each other. It was bright moonlight, but Orm’s eyes were flickering a dangerous red as he threw himself furiously upon Toke, who tried to draw his sword; Orm had lain his aside, and had not had time to lay his hand on it. Now, Toke was a huge and powerful man, broad in the loins, and with tremendous hands, while Orm had not yet grown to his full strength, although he was already strong enough to deal with most men. He secured a lock on Toke’s neck with one arm, and pinned Toke’s right wrist with his other hand, to stop him drawing his sword; but Toke took a good grip on Orm’s clothing, lifted him from his feet with a sudden jerk, and threw him over his head like a starfish. Orm, however, managed to hold his lock, though it felt as though his spine would snap at any moment, and, twisting round, got one of his knees into the small of Toke’s back. Then he threw himself backwards, dragging Toke down on top of him, and, exerting all his strength, succeeded in turning him over, so that he had Toke under him with his face in the dust. By this time, several of the others had been roused, and Berse ran towards them with a rope, muttering that what else could you expect if you allowed Toke to sozzle himself like that. They bound him fast, hand and foot, though he struggled wildly to stop them. However he quietened down after a short while, and before long he was shouting to Orm that he had now remembered the rest of the song. He began to sing it, but Berse threw water over him, whereupon he fell asleep.

On awaking the next morning, Toke swore fearfully at finding himself tied up, being unable to remember anything of what had happened. When they told him, he was full of remorse for the way he had behaved, and explained that it was his great misfortune that drink sometimes made him difficult. Ale, he said, translated him completely, and now, regrettably, it seemed that wine was going to have the same effect. He inquired anxiously whether Orm now regarded him as his enemy, in view of his conduct of the previous night. Orm replied that he did not, adding that he would be delighted to continue the fight amiably any time that Toke felt so disposed; but he begged that Toke would promise him one thing, namely, that he would abstain from song, for the rasp of a nightjar, or the croaking of an old crow on an outhouse roof, was far more melodious than his nocturnal serenading. Toke laughed, and promised that he would try to improve his talents in that respect; for he was a kindly man except when ale or wine distorted his nature.

All the men thought that Orm had come out of the affair remarkably well, especially considering his youth; for few of those who came within the range of Toke’s arm once he had reached the weeping stage escaped unscathed. So Orm rose in the estimation of his fellows, as well as in his own. After this incident, they began to call him Red Orm, not only because of his red hair but also because he had proved himself a man of mettle, and one not to be provoked without sound cause.

After some days, a good wind sprang up, and they put out to sea. They kept well away from the land, to avoid dangerous currents, and headed westwards along the coast of Ramiro’s kingdom until they had rounded the cape. Then they rowed southwards along a steep and broken coast, proceeding through a small archipelago, which reminded the men of their own group of islands off Blekinge. At length, they reached the mouth of a certain river, for which the Jew had been keeping a look-out. They entered the river on the flood tide, and rowed up it until they were halted by weirs; there they went ashore and held counsel. Solomon described the journey that lay ahead of them, saying that bold men might march in less than a day to the fortress of the man upon whom he wished to be revenged, one of King Ramiro’s margraves, a man called Ordono, the most villainous and scoundrelly bandit (he said) in all the shores of Christendom.

Krok and Berse questioned him closely concerning the fortress, asking him details of its strength and situation, and how large an army the margrave kept to defend it. Solomon replied that it lay in such a craggy and deserted tract of country that the Caliph’s army, which consisted largely of cavalry, never came near it. This made it an excellent hideout for a bandit, and there was great wealth contained within its walls. It was built of oak-trunks and was protected by an earthen dyke, surmounted by a stockage; and its defenders might be reckoned to number, at the outside, 200 men. Solomon thought that they probably did not keep careful watch because its situation was so remote; and, indeed, the majority of the margrave’s men were often absent marauding in the south.

Krok said the number of the defenders worried him less than the dyke and the stockade, which would make a surprise assault difficult. Some of the men thought it would be a simple matter to set fire to the stockade, but Berse reminded them that the whole fortress might then catch, in which case they would gain little profit from whatever wealth it might contain. In the end, they decided that they would trust to their luck and determine what plan to follow when they reached the place. It was agreed that forty men should remain on board the ships, while the rest were to set out when evening fell, for it would then be cooler. Then they drew lots to determine which of them should stay with the ships, for they were all keen to be on the spot when the looting began.

They saw to their weapons, and slept during the heat of the day in a grove of oak-trees. Then they fortified themselves with food and drink and, as evening fell, the company set out, numbering in all 136 men. Krok marched at their head, with the Jew and Berse, and the rest followed, some wearing chain-shirts and others leathern jackets. Most of them were armed with sword and spear, though a few carried axes; and each man had a shield and helmet. Orm marched beside Toke, who said it was a good thing to have this opportunity to loosen one’s joints before the fighting began, after so many sedentary weeks upon the oar-bench.

They marched through a barren wilderness, in which no signs of human life could be seen; for these border regions between the Christian and the Andalusian kingdoms had for long been deserted. They kept to the northern bank of the river, fording a number of small streams; meanwhile the darkness thickened and, after some hours, they rested and waited for the moon to rise. Then they turned northwards along a valley, making swift progress over flat terrain, and Solomon proved himself a good guide for, before the skies grew grey, they reached the approaches to the fortress. There they hid in the scrub and rested again for a while, peering forward into the gloom to discern what they could by the pale light of the moon. The sight of the stockade somewhat daunted them, for it consisted of rough tree-trunks more than twice the height of a man; and the huge gate, which was fortified on top, looked exceedingly formidable.

Krok observed that it would be no easy task to set fire to this, adding that he would, in any event, prefer to storm the place without using fire, if it were at all possible; but that there might be no other way, in which case they would have to pile brushwood against the stockade and set light to it, and hope that the whole building would not catch. He asked Berse if he had any better suggestion to put forward, but Berse shook his head, and sighed, and said that he could not think of any alternative, though he, too, disliked resorting to the use of fire. Nor had Solomon anything better to propose; he muttered that he would have to rest content with seeing the infidel burn, although he had hoped to obtain a more satisfying mode of revenge.

At this point in the discussion Toke crawled forward to Krok and Berse and asked what the delay was for, as he was beginning to grow thirsty and, the sooner they stormed the fortress, the sooner he would be able to get something to drink. Krok told him that the problem they were debating was how to force an entry. To this, Toke replied that, if they would give him five spears, he could, he thought, show them that he was capable of more things than merely rowing and drinking ale. The others asked what plan he had in mind, but he would only answer that, if all went well, he would procure their entry into the fortress, though the owners of the spears would have to be prepared to re-shaft them when they got them back. Berse, who knew Toke of old, advised that he should be given his head; so the spears were brought, and Toke cut off their shafts just where the iron joined the wood, so that he had a short stump left below each blade. He then announced that he was ready to begin; and he and Krok began to steal quietly towards the rampart, taking cover behind rocks and bushes, with a handful of picked men following them. They heard a few cocks crow from within the fortress but, apart from this, the night was completely quiet.

They crept up to the rampart a short way along from the gate; then Toke climbed up to the foot of the stockade and drove one of his spears between two of the piles, a good ell’s length from the ground, twisting it with all his strength to make it fast. Higher up in the next chink along, he drove a second blade; then, when he had noiselessly made sure that both of them would take the strain, he stepped carefully up on to the shortened shafts and fixed a third spear-head higher up in the next chink. But, placed as he was, he found himself unable to make this blade fast without creating a noise. Krok, who had by now realized what Toke had in mind, signed to him to come down, whispering that they would have to do a bit of hammering now, even at the risk of disturbing certain sleepers from their slumber. Then, carrying the two remaining spear-heads in his hand, he took Toke’s place on the steps that he had already made fast, and drove the third blade home with a couple of blows from the flat of his axe, immediately afterwards doing likewise with the fourth and fifth spear-heads, fastening them higher up and further along. As soon as he had driven the last blade home, he climbed up them and so reached the top of the stockade.

As he did so, they heard cries and alarms from within the fortress and a great baying of horns; but others of the Vikings followed Krok swiftly up Toke’s ladder, as fast as they could clamber, and joined him at the top. Along the inside of the stockade there ran a wooden bridge, for bowmen to stand on. Krok and his followers jumped down on to this, encountering some men, armed with bows and spears and still drowsy with sleep, who ran out to intercept them, and cut them down. By this time, they were being assailed with arrows from the ground, and two of them were hit, but Krok and the others ran along the bridge to the gate, and there dropped to the ground, in the hope of being able to open it from within and thus admit the rest of their comrades. Hard fighting ensued, however, for many of the defenders of the fortress had already run to defend the gate, and reinforcements were coming to their aid with every minute that passed. One of the twenty men who had followed Krok up the ladder was hanging from the stockade with an arrow in his eye, and three others had been hit in their passage along the bridge; but all those who had managed to reach the ground safely packed themselves together in a tight phalanx and, raising their battle-cry, fought their way with spear and sword to the gate. Here it was very dark, and they found themselves hard pressed indeed, with enemies behind as well as in front of them.

Then they heard their battle-cry answered from without, for the men waiting on the hillside had run forward to the rampart as soon as they had seen that the attempt to scale the stockade had succeeded, and many of them were hacking at the gate with their axes, while others clambered up Toke’s ladder and dropped down inside the fortress to assist their companions who were fighting within the gate. There the strife was fierce and chaotic, friends and foes hardly knowing which was which. Krok felled several men with his axe, but was himself then struck on the side of the neck with a club wielded by a huge man with a black, plaited beard, who appeared to be the defenders’ chieftain. Krok’s helmet partially parried the force of the blow, but he staggered and fell on his knees. At length Toke and Orm succeeded in fighting their way through a tangle of men and shields, so tightly packed that it was impossible to use a spear, with the ground so greasy with blood that their feet several times all but went from under them, and managed to draw the bolts of the gate. Their comrades poured in to join them, and such of the defenders in the gateway as did not flee were overwhelmed and slaughtered.

Then a terrible panic descended on the Christians, and they fled with death snarling at their heels. Solomon, who had been among the first to break in through the gate, charged ahead of the Vikings like a fanatic, stumbling over the bodies of the slain. Seizing a sword that lay upon the ground and whirling it above his head, he shrieked to his companions through the uproar, bidding them all make haste to the citadel. Krok, who was still dazed from the blow that had felled him, and was unable to regain his feet, cried to them from where he lay in the gateway to follow the Jew. Many of the Vikings ran into the houses that lined the inside of the rampart to slake their thirst or to look for women; but the majority of them pursued the fleeing defenders to the great citadel which stood in the centre of the fortress. The gate of the citadel was crowded with Christians trying to get in but, before it could be closed, their pursuers swarmed in among them, so that fighting broke out again within the citadel; for the Christians saw that they had no option but to defend themselves. The big man with the plaited beard fought bravely, felling two men who attacked him, but at length he was forced into a corner and sustained blows which brought him to his knees, sorely wounded. On seeing him fall, Solomon rushed forward and threw himself upon him, seizing him by the beard and spitting on him, and slobbering like a drunken man; but the bearded man stared at him as though uncomprehendingly, rolled on to his side, closed his eyes and died.

Seeing this, Solomon broke into loud lamentations at having been cheated of his full revenge, in that he had not been allowed to kill the man himself. Such Christians as remained alive defended themselves no longer when they saw that their leader had fallen, but surrendered to the mercy of their conquerors. Some of them were spared, so that they might be sold as slaves. Having helped themselves handsomely to meat and drink, which included ale as well as wine, the Vikings ransacked the fortress for booty, and disputes broke out concerning the women whom they discovered crouching in various corners, for they had been without women for many weeks. All the booty they found was heaped into an enormous pile – money, jewels, weapons, garments, brocades, coats of mail, household goods, bridles, silver plate and much besides – and, when it had all been counted, the value of it was found to exceed their wildest expectations. Solomon explained to them that it represented the fruits of years of plundering at the expense of the Andalusians. Krok, who was now able to stand on his feet again, and had a rag soaked with wine bandaged round his head, rejoiced at the sight of it, and was only afraid lest it might prove difficult to find space for so much on board their ships. However, Berse assured him that they would be able to find room for it all.

‘For no man,’ he said, ‘complains of the weight of the cargo, when it is his own booty that is putting strain upon his oar.’

They spent the rest of the day indulging their appetites, in high good humour; then, they slept and, when night came, started on their return march towards the ships. All the prisoners were heavily laden with booty, and the men themselves had much to carry. Some Andalusian prisoners had been found in the dungeons of the citadel; they wept with joy at being freed, but looked wretchedly feeble and were incapable of carrying anything. So they were granted their liberty, and accompanied the Vikings on their way back to the ships, whence they were to proceed southwards with Solomon to their own country. Some donkeys had been captured, and Krok mounted one of them and rode at the head of the column, with his feet reaching to the ground. The other donkeys were led behind him, laden with food and ale; but their loads were speedily lightened, for the men stopped frequently to rest and refresh themselves.

Berse tried to hurry them on, that they might reach the ships as soon as possible. He was afraid lest they might be pursued, for some of the defenders of the fortress had managed to escape, and could have ridden far enough to have procured help; but the men paid little attention to his exhortations, for they were in high spirits, and most of them were befuddled with drink. Orm had taken a bale of silk, a bronze mirror and a large glass bowl, which was proving awkward to carry. Toke had a big wooden box balanced on his shoulder, finely embossed and full of various objects; with his other hand, he was leading a girl who had taken his fancy, and whom he wanted to hold on to for as long as possible. He was in excellent spirits, and expressed to Orm the hope that the girl might turn out to be the margrave’s daughter; but then he grew melancholy, beginning to doubt whether there would be room for her on board the ship. He was unsteady on his feet, on account of the quantity he had drunk, but the girl seemed already to be solicitously disposed towards him, and supported him when he stumbled. She was well proportioned and very young, and Orm said that he had seldom seen a finer girl, and that it would be a good thing to have woman-luck as good as Toke’s. But Toke replied that, despite their friendship, he could not share her with Orm, for she appealed to him very particularly and he wished to keep her for himself, if the gods should permit this to be.

At last, they reached the ships, and the men who had remained on board were greatly jubilant at the sight of such rich booty, for it had been agreed that this was to be divided amongst them all. Solomon received many expressions of thanks from them all, and various costly presents; then he departed, together with the prisoners whom they had freed, since he was anxious to get clear of the Christians’ country as soon as he could. Toke, who had not yet stopped drinking, began to weep when he heard that Solomon had left them, saying that now he had nobody to help him to converse with his girl. He drew his sword and wanted to run after him; but Orm and the others succeeded in quietening him without having to resort to violence, and in the end he nestled contentedly down beside his girl, having first bound her fast to him so that she should not steal away or be stolen while he slept.

The next morning, they began to share out the booty, which proved to be no simple task. Everybody wanted to have as big a share as the next man; but it was decided that Krok and Berse and the helmsman and one or two others should have three times as much as the rest. Even then, although the business of sharing everything out fairly was allotted to the wisest among them, it was difficult to satisfy everyone. Berse said that, since it was largely due to Toke that the fortress had been taken, he too, ought to have a triple share; and they all agreed that this should be so. But Toke replied that he would be content with his single share, if he might be allowed to bring his girl on board and keep her there without anyone objecting.

‘For I should dearly like to bring her home with me,’ he said, ‘even though I cannot be completely sure that she is the margrave’s daughter. I am already getting on excellently with her and, when she is able to speak our language, and we can understand each other’s conversation, it will be better still.’

Berse remarked that this might not turn out to be such an advantage as Toke supposed, and Krok added that the ships were going to be so heavily laden with all the booty they had won that, even allowing for the fact that they lost eleven men in the fight, he doubted whether there would be room for the girl on board; as things were they would probably have to leave some of the less valuable booty behind.