Tim Severin - King's Man

From the outset Runa herself took great comfort from her sister's open approval of our union, and she went on to make me very happy. She was to prove to be an ideal wife, loving and supportive. On our wedding night she told me that when she heard of her first husband's death, she had prayed to Freyja, pleading that she did not wish to spend the rest of her life as a widow. 'Freyja heard my prayers,' she said quietly, looking down at the earthen floor.

'But I'm fifteen years older than you,' I pointed out. 'Don't you worry that you will again be a widow one day?'

'That is for the Gods to decide. Some men they bless with health and allow to live. To others they give a life of drudgery which brings them to an early death. To me you seem no older than men of my own age, for already they are half worn out by toil.' Then she snuggled down against me, and proved that Freyja was indeed the goddess of sensual joy.

I was so utterly content all that winter and the following spring that I might have set aside my promise to serve Harald had not Odinn reminded me of my duty. He did so with a dream that was both shocking and, as it turned out much later, a deception. In my sleep I saw a fleet of ships coming across the sea and disembarking an army whose commander sought to seize a throne. The leader's face was never visible but always turned away from me, and I took him to be my liege lord Harald, for the man was uncommonly tall. He boldly led his army inland, his troops marching across baked and barren fields until they were brought to battle by their enemy. The fighting was intense, but gradually the invaders were gaining the upper hand. Then, just on the point of victory, an arrow flew out from nowhere and struck the tall commander in the throat. I saw his hands go up — his face was still turned away — and I heard the breath whistle in his torn windpipe. Then he fell, dying.

I woke in a cold sweat of alarm. Beside me Runa reached out to comfort me. 'What is the matter?' she asked.

'I have just seen my lord Harald die,' I said, still shivering. 'Perhaps I can avert catastrophe. I must warn him.'

'Of course you must,' she agreed soothingly. 'That is your duty. But sleep now and rest, so that in the morning you have a clearer head.'

Next day she was just as sensible and made me repeat the details of the dream, then asked, 'Is this the first time that you have seen omens in your dreams?'

'No, there was a time when I had many dreams that hinted at the future if they were correctly understood. It's something that I have inherited from my mother. I hardly knew her, but she was a volva, a seeress gifted with the second sight. When I was in Miklagard among the Christians, such dreams were very rare, and certainly there was nothing so disturbing as what I saw last night.'

'Maybe your dreaming has returned because you are among people who still hold to the Old Ways. The Gods reveal themselves more readily in such places.'

'A wise woman once told me something similar. She herself possessed second sight and said I was a spirit mirror, and that I was more likely to have visions when I was in the company of others who also possessed the same ability. I suppose that being among Old Believers has the same effect.'

'Then you already know that we would want you to heed what the Gods are trying to tell you. You should seek Harald out and try to warn him. I am content to wait here for your return. I don't have to have second sight to know that you will surely come back to me. The sooner you set out, the sooner you will return.'

I left that same afternoon, taking the same eastward path that Folkmar and I had followed when we went to the Great Hof. On the third day I found someone to sell me a horse, and within a week I had reached the coast, and just in time. A fisherman mending his nets on the beach told me there was a rumour that a remarkable warship was under construction somewhere in the north, the like of which had never been seen before. The builders had been told to use only the finest timber and to install the best fittings, and that no imperfection would be tolerated. 'Must be costing someone a fortune,' said the fisherman, spitting towards his grubby little skiff as if to emphasise his point. 'Don't know who the client is, but he must be made of money.'

'Is the vessel launched yet, do you know?'

'Can't say as I do,' he replied, 'but it will be a sight to see.'

'I'll pay you to take me to see it.'

'Beats hauling on lines and baiting hooks,' he answered readily. 'Give me a couple of hours to pick up some extra gear and a bit of food and water, and off we go. Mind if my lad accompanies us? He's handy in a boat, and could come in useful. Breeze is in the north so it'll be rowing to start with.'

WE HAD BARELY cleared the bay when Harald's ship came into view, sailing southward and less than a mile offshore, and silently I thanked Runa for insisting that I hurried. Another couple of hours and I would have missed him.

There was no mistaking that it was Harald's ship. No one else would have required that his vessel be so extravagant and colourful. In later years, during frontier raids on the Danes, I was to sail aboard the largest vessel Harald ever commissioned, his Great Dragon, which had thirty-five oar benches, making her one of the biggest longships ever known. But that giant still does not compare in my memory with the vessel I saw that pleasant summer afternoon as Harald sailed to claim his inheritance. His longship was a blaze of colour. Immaculate display shields of red and white were slotted in the shield rack. The snarling serpent's head on the prow was gilded bronze, and flashed back the sun as the ship eased across the swells. A long scarlet pennant floated from her masthead, her rigging had been whitened, and the upper plank along her entire length had been decorated with gold leaf.

But that was not the reason why I knew for sure that she was Harald's ship. Who else would have ordered his sailmakers to use a cloth that, weight for weight, was as expensive as gold: every third panel of the mainsail had been cut and stitched from peach silk.

I stood up on the thwart of the fishing skiff and waved an oar. An alert lookout on the longship saw me, and a moment later the vessel altered course. Soon I was scrambling over the side and making my way to the stern deck where Harald stood with his councillors. I knew all of them - Halldor, his marshal Ulf Ospaksson, and the others.

'Welcome aboard, councillor. What do you have to report?' Harald demanded as if I had seen him only yesterday.

'I have visited both Magnus of Norway and Earl Estrithson, my lord,' I began, when Harald interrupted me.

'We have already met the Danish earl. He came north to ask help from the Swedes in his conflict with Magnus, and by chance we encountered him. How did he impress you?'

I paused, not wanting to sound pessimistic. But there was no getting round my opinion. 'He's not to be trusted,' I said bluntly.

'And my nephew Magnus?'

'My lord, he seems to be well regarded by his people.'

It was a tactless thing to say, and Harald rudely turned to look out across the sea, ignoring me. I suppose he felt that I was hinting he might not be so popular. Meekly I crossed the deck to join the other councillors.

Halldor commiserated. 'He needs someone to tell him the true facts from time to time.'

'There's more,' I said. 'I wanted to give him a warning, but now is not the moment.' 'What's the warning?'

'A dream I had recently, a portent.'

'You were always an odd one, Thorgils. Even when you first came to my father's house, my brothers and I wondered why he took you in and gave you such special treatment. Is it to do with your second sight? What have you seen?' 'Harald's death,' I answered.

Halldor shot me a sideways glance. 'How will it happen?' 'An arrow in the throat during a great battle.' 'When?'