"I've a shameful thing to confess, Father," said Erling to me. It was the morning after Olaf's meeting with the lords, and Moling's death. Erling had called me away to talk under four eyes, and we'd climbed the hillside and sat on a large rock overlooking the thingstead. "Last night I dreamed of Astrid Trygvesdatter."
"Show me the man who can put a bridle on his dreams, and I'll show you a man who needs not God's mercy," said I.
"She's very fair," said Erling. "Have you seen her, walking with Olaf? She's as graceful as a hawk on the wind. And when she smiles"
"Don't torment yourself, my lord. You're not the first man to want a woman he can't have."
"But I can have her, Father. All I need do is break my word to Halla. Halla would understand. My kin would cheer me, since it wasn't a proper betrothal after all. My mother would be so glad her hair would go gold again. And it would be good for the land, so everyone tells me."
"But you won't break your word," said I with a dry mouth.
"No."
I sighed. "Halla's worth it, my lord," I said.
"Aye."
We fell silent for a while. It troubled me that Erling didn't agree with all the fervor I'd have used.
"Astrid Trygvesdatter's not perfect," I said. "Her upper lip is too short. And she has a proud look. Any husband who wants to rule his home will have to wrestle her for it, I'll wager."
"Any horseman knows that a beast with spirit is best for the true rider."
"I'm a peasant, my lord, with peasant tastes. I can't see things through a lord's eyes. But it's a sin against yourself to dwell on her like this. If you've made your choice, be done with it. Don't put your hand to the plow and keep looking back."
"I know that," said Erling. "And that's what I mean to do. But I had to talk to someone about it. The priests are right, you know. A man should lie with one woman in his life, and she his wife. Otherwise it ends in unfair deeds."
We went back down to the booths, and I thought in my heart, You take Astrid, and I'll take Halla, and the whole world will be a happy place. Then I thought of Sigrid and asked forgiveness and laid a penance on myself.
We went to Olaf's booth, where the Horder lords were gathering. Olaf's priests stood outside. I winked at one of them and he looked away quickly. I had found with pleasure that, far from being eager to question me and object to my haircut, they were snubbing me altogether, as English priests are wont to do with the Irish. Even in the heart of heathendom they wouldn't lower themselves to talk shop with a man of my tonsure. I hadn't had a chance to test Bishop Sigurd, but I assumed he'd be worse than the priests.
We all went inside and sat on the benches. Olaf had the high seat, and Olmod sat across from him in his blankets.
"I have two matters to discuss with you," said Olaf. "One is a lesser thing, though great in itself, and that is my debt to Erling Skjalgsson for the warding of my body. The second is what terms we shall make in exchange for the baptism of all the men of the Gulathing-law. You men of the west are lucky to have a leader as wise as Olmod Karisson. Wherever I've gone in the land, no lords until now have had the wit to meet me in this businesslike way."
"These two matters you speak of are one in our view," said Olmod. "We have taken counsel, and we have but one wish as to what you shall do for Erling, and for us. We wish you to wed Astrid Trygvesdatter to Erling Skjalgsson, so that we may ever be certain of a place near the king's heart."
"You ask a great thing," said Olaf, scratching his beard. "Kings' daughters and kings' sisters are born for high matches, profitable marriages to kings and the greatest lords."
"We have no objection to Erling's advancement," said Olmod with a smile.
"I need to warn Erling, too, that Astrid will make a formidable wife. If she lacks any virtues, they are that sweetness and biddability which are a woman's greatest charms."
"I must speak," said Erling. "There is no woman alive I'd rather wed than Astrid, and no man I'd be prouder to have for a brother-in-law than you, King Olaf. But I've given my promise to another woman, and I mean to keep my word as a lord and a Christian."
"Well then, there's no point to this," said Olaf.
"Let us set it aside a moment," said Olmod. "Arrangements are being made which may change Erling's mind. In any case, you'll want to set the matter before your sister."
"I would not give Astrid's hand without her consent," said Olaf. "I'm not sure I could if I tried. But it seems we've gone as far as we can in this business for today."
"There is one other thing," said a man. We turned to see that Sigurd Eriksson had stood. "My brothers and I have endured much shame over the years through Thorolf Skjalg's holding of our odal lands. Now we're told we may have to look on Erling Skjalgsson as a kinsman. If this is to be, we must settle once and for all who holds what land in Jaeder, and who shall be lord there."
One of the Horders said, "Will we never hear the end of this Jaeder business?"
"An end to it is exactly what I ask," said Sigurd.
"Do you think I'm going to turn my property over to you?" asked Erling.
"I think you will if the king commands it."
"And would the king command such a thing?" asked Erling, turning to Olaf.
"The king will do what's best for the peace of the land," said Olaf. "Any lord who opposes him will know he has an enemy."
"It would ill become you, O King," said Jostein Eriksson, rising, "to set aside the rights of your near kinsmen for the profit of the sons of Horda-Kari. Don't you see how sly they are? We haven't taken a step since we got here that hasn't been foreseen by Olmod Karisson. He says he knew nothing of Arinbjorn's plan to kill you, but we've only his word on that. If we don't watch ourselves, they'll steal the ships from under our feet as we sail away and leave us swimming in the fjord, wondering how it was done."
"If you've some charge of false dealing to make, let's hear it," said a Horder.
"None of your kin has ever dealt fairly. Your women trade off nursing babies so you'll all learn to suck what's not your own!"
Then the two of them were at each other's throats, and in a moment Olaf was down among them, taking each by the scruff of the neck and shaking them like puppies. The tales of his strength were no lies.
"Now sit down and keep your mouths shut," he said when they were quiet, "or I'll sew you in a sack together and dump you in the fjord. This is not how civilized men act in the presence of the king. Do you understand me?"
The two men bowed their heads and mumbled apologies.
"All right. Don't let it happen again."
He went back to his seat and said, "Thorkel Eriksson. You're a halfway bright man. Set your case before me. Why is Erling's advancement an offense to you?"
Thorkel stood and said, "It's all right for Sigurd. He has Opprostad, and he's hersir. But Jostein and I, as younger sons, must make do with lesser inheritances. Ogmund and Skjalg took some of our best farms. If we held them, we'd be great men as our ancestors were great. While Erling holds them we are that much the less, and the poorer, and we feel the shame of it. It galls us."
The king frowned. "So your complaint is that your lands are too little, and you have to look on Erling Skjalgsson's prosperity."
"We are uncles to the king, my lord. We should not be smallholders in the land."
Olaf nodded. "There's truth in that. Yet I can hardly give Astrid's hand to Erling, if that's what God intends, and then take estates from him. Be silent for awhile, everyone, while I think."
And Olaf set his chin on his knuckles and thought for several minutes while we watched him, quiet as well-behaved children.
At last he sat up and said, "Let me make a proposal. In my business in the Vik, I was forced to outlaw several lords and take their estates. Suppose I were to give the finest of those estates to you brothers, Jostein and Thorkel? The Vik is better land even than Jaeder, and its lords have long been the richest in Norway. Would you be willing to be lords in the Vik, and live far from Erling Skjalgsson?"
Jostein and Thorkel said "Aye" without hesitation. They'd been in the Vik with Olaf and seen the property there.
"Then so be it," said Olaf. "Erling and Sigurd will divide overlordship in the west. I think the two of you can get along without cutting each other's throats, can't you?"
"May I speak, my lord?" asked Sigurd.
"Of course."
"I want to rule no lands but my own. It is my wish to stay at the king's side always."
Olaf leaned back in his seat. "How great a lord does that leave you, Erling Skjalgsson?" he asked.
"I am your man, my lord," said Erling. "How great do you want your man to be?"
We broke up the meeting soon after that. As the others were going out, Erling went over to Olmod. I nosed over to hear what he'd say.
"If any harm comes to Halla Asmundsdatter," he told the old man softly, "I swear I'll go abroad and become a monk."
Olmod said, "What ugly thoughts you have, kinsman."
Murder defiles a holy place, even among the Norse, and after the meeting everyone agreed that it was time to carry out the king's will. A company of men went to the temple and brought out the images of Thor, Odin and Frey, and the smaller images. They broke off all the gold and silver and piled the wood together, and Olaf himself set a torch to the pile. A wailing from the crowd went up with the smoke, bonders and their wives seeing their faith torn from them by the king's word.
"It's a sad sight, in a way," said a voice beside me. I looked and gave a start, for it was Bishop Sigurd. He was young for a bishop, though his hair was iron gray. He had a pleasantly homely face with a long chin and the eyes of a sick man, at once sunken and puffy.
"I'm surprised to hear you say so, my lord," said I, with caution as I knelt. He bade me rise.
"On Sunday we'll dunk all these people in the fjord and call them Christians, but in their hearts Jesus will be just another god they've heard of, less interesting, perhaps, than Thor. And any who refuse we'll torture or kill, although there shouldn't be much trouble of that kind here, as the people generally follow their lords. Still it's not very Christlike, is it?"
"We tried torture at Sola once," I said. "It did us more harm than it did the man we pained."
"I know well what you mean. My hair was brown when I came to Norway."
"Then why, my lord?"
The bishop stared at the fire.
"Come away with me to a place alone," he said, and I led him up to the rock where Erling and I had sat earlier. The bishop seated himself and said, "Do you know what the sin against the Holy Spirit is?"
"I know it's unpardonable. I've never understood what it means."
"The theologians wrangle over it. I have my own idea. In the Gospel, Christ speaks of it after His enemies have seen Him work miracles, and they've said He does these things by the power of Satan. I think what the Lord means by the sin against the Holy Spirit is a state of mind like theirs, in which a man looks at good and calls it evil, or looks at evil and calls it good.
"I must confess to you, my sonI couldn't say it to my own prieststhat sometimes I fear I've committed that sin. Much as I study the scriptures, I find in them no word permitting me to force men to be baptized through violence. The screaming! The smells! I dream of them at night. And a voice says to me`God would give you hearing ears, to listen to the voice of His Spirit, but day by day you make your ears deaf to the cries of men, and one day they will be deaf even to Him. And then you will have committed the unpardonable sin.' And you cannot shrive me of this sinnot you or any priestbecause I cannot turn from it."
"Why not?"
"You're Irish, aren't youAillil's your name, am I right?"
"Aye."
"In Ireland, did you ever see a Viking raid?"
"Oh aye. That I did. Up close."
"The Norse tell jolly tales about their gods, and I enjoy hearing those tales. But those same gods teach them that might is right, and that Norsemen are people and foreigners are beasts, and that as Norsemen they have a right to catch and herd and brand and slaughter and sell foreigners as livestock. Only Christ can teach them differently. Ethelred of England said to me when I was commissioned, `Do your work well in Norway and you'll be more protection to my people than ten thousand warriors.' God knows we men of Christendom are brutal enough with each other. But when we slay our brothers we at least know them for our brothers. In time we may learn to act like brothers. But men who worship Thor will never learn that in a thousand years. Every image I burn, every heathen I baptize, may mean one house unburned, one man unkilled, one child not enslaved."
His words brought back memories of Maeve, and my imposture, and the death of Steinbjorg; and thinking of Steinbjorg made me think of Halla. If she were free of Erling, and Erling free of his vow, and I were free of my lie
"My lord," I said, "I've not made a confession in more than two years. I've grave sins to be quit of." I knelt as I spoke, and I told all, and I remained kneeling for some minutes after I'd finished, wondering if the bishop had fallen into a trance.
"How very strange are God's ways," he said at last.
"I wonder each day that He slays me not with fire from Heaven."
"I didn't mean that. Oh, you've sinned, and you'll have to do heavy penance. But I was thinking of how the Lord plucked the unlikeliest man in the world out of Ireland and brought him here to do His work. That's so like Him. He never uses a sword when he can do the job with the jawbone of an ass."
"Ass is a fitting word," said I, "but I can hardly say I've done God's work."
"What do you call it then? If I'd gone to Sola I'd not have lasted a week. I'd have been martyred like Erling's first priest. It's fine to have martyrs, but somebody's got to be alive to say the masses."
"My masses weren't effectual! And when I think of the babes I've christened, all still heathen, and the couples I've wed, living in ignorant sin"
"A layman may christen if there's no priest to hand and the need is great. And marriage is a complicated issue. . . .
"From what you told me, you seem to have been ordained by the greatest bishop of all in a vision. I'm inclined to accept that vision. Ordination by vision is irregular, but what's not irregular in Norway? I've burned men's flesh in the name of Christwho am I to carp at your ordination?"
"You wish me to live in my sin?"
"Noif your conscience is troubled, we can't have that. Bow your head."
And he placed his hands on me and absolved me, then said the last words I'd expected to hearthe words of ordination.
"There. You are now a priest ordained by a bishop. And as your bishop I declare all your priestly acts efficacious retroactively. I'm not sure I can do that, but I'll chance it. If this is sin, I take it on myself. That way I can also claim some merit in your victories. Because when you look at it straight on, Aillil my son, you've been a very successful missionary. So stand and take up your cross again. And for heaven's sake, come with me now and get a proper tonsure."
"I'm not sure I even believe in God," I said, numbly. I'd had dreams of wedding Halla, and instead I found myself condemned to priesthood.
"Believe in God? You who've seen the walking dead and Odin and the elf-woman, who've done a miracle? Do you think the healing of Erling was by your own power? If you don't believe in God, I don't know who does."
"All right, I believe in Him," I cried. "But I hate Him! I'm as heathen as the worst of the Norse. God is my enemy. He let them kill my family and enslave my sister. He let my leman be killed, and my unborn child!"
"Does that make Him your enemy? Does God give pleasant lives to his friends, and pain to his enemies? I haven't seen that to be true."
"I hate Him, my lord. I hate God. If that's not the unforgivable sin, what is?"
"You miss the point. You've seen evil, and you called it evil. That's not the unpardonable sin. You're mistaken in thinking all this makes God your enemy, but that's an error, not apostasy.
"Think of this, my son. God's love is a light. It shines brightly on His children in this dark world. What happens to a man who stands in the light in view of his enemies?"
"He becomes a target, I suppose."
"That's what you and I are. Do you know the story of Job? God's love, shining bright on Job, made him an easy mark for the enemy. Granting that we have an enemy, it's natural we'll be attacked. Or don't you believe in devils?"
"Oh, aye. I believe in devils. I believe in God too. But I don't love Him."
"Do any of us love Him worth the use of the word? He loves usthat's the point. Even the best of us raise our pitiful love to Him as a child raises some dead thing he's found in the field and brought home to his father, and the father pretends it doesn't stink and says thank you because he loves his child. When your friend Moling died, what was it he said? `We fast and pray and whatnot that the Beloved would give us' You know what he meant, don't you?"
"Aye," I said. "I know what he meant." It was the end of the gameGod had cleared the board.
Just then we heard a woman's scream down in the camp, followed by a stream of loud and furious name-calling.
"What's that?" I wondered.
"It sounds like Astrid Trygvesdatter," said Bishop Sigurd. "I would imagine she's just been told that Erling refused her hand."
Title: | The Year of the Warrior |
Author: | Lars Walker |
ISBN: | 0-671-57861-8 |
Copyright: | © 2000 by Lars Walker |
Publisher: | Baen Books |