Tim Severin - Sworn Brother

The traders had a finely tuned instinct for politics. One evening Thrand and I had gone to visit the temple of Svantevit, the local four-faced Wendish God. His sacred animal is a white stallion used for divination, and we had seen the priests lead out the horse and coax him between three rows of wooden stakes as they watched anxiously, believing that if the horse steps first with its right foot then their presaging is true. As Thrand and I re-entered the Jomsviking citadel, we found a delegation from Knut himself. To my delight the embassy was led by a man I recognised — one-legged Kjartan who had stood beside me when Edgar died in the boar hunt and had assisted my escape from London.

'Thorgils!' he exclaimed, thumping me on the shoulder with his fist. 'Who would have thought to find you here! It's good to see you.'

'How's Gisli the One Hand?' I asked.

'Fine, fine,' Kjartan replied, looking around at the parade ground. 'You can't imagine how good it is to be here, away from those canting Christians. I've still got those wax coins you gave me. I suppose you know that Archbishop Wulfstan, that wily schemer, died.'

'No, I hadn't heard.'

'Last year he finally went to meet his maker, as he would have

put it, and good riddance. But sadly his departure to join his precious angels has had little effect on the king's court. There seem to be just as many Christians in positions of power, and they are making life difficult for the Old Believers. Queen Emma encourages them, of course. She goes nowhere unless she is accompanied by a pack of priests.'

'What about Aelfgifu?' It was a question I could not hold back.

Kjartan gave me a shrewd glance and I wondered just how much he knew.

'She's well, though we don't see much of her now. Either she's at her father's place in Northampton or she travels overseas as Knut's representative.'

At that point a trumpet sounded. The felag was called to attend to a meeting in the great hall and Kjartan turned to go. 'I hope we'll have the chance to remember our days in Northampton and London,' he said.

The meeting was packed. Every Jomsviking, whether veteran or recent recruit, had assembled to hear what Kjartan had to say. He was escorted into the hall by two leading members of the felag's ruling council, who introduced him to his audience. He spoke clearly and firmly, and his soldierly bearing and battle injury made his audience listen respectfully. His message was clear enough: King Knut, ruler of England and Denmark and rightful heir to the throne of Norway, invited the Jomsvikings to join his cause. War was looming. The enemies of the king — Kjartan described them as a league of resentful earls forgetful of their oaths of loyalty, warlords from Norway and Sweden, and a false claimant to the Norwegian throne - were assembling an army to challenge Knut's authority. King Knut, of course, would crush them, and in victory he would remember and reward those who had helped him. There would be much booty to distribute — here an appreciative murmur rose from the listening warriors — and there was fame to be won.

Kjartan reminded his listeners of the renown of the Jomsvikings, their illustrious history and their prowess as fighting men. Finally, he proffered the bait that, all along, he knew would most tempt his audience. 'King Knut holds you in such high regard,' he announced, 'that he has authorised me to offer each one of you fifteen marks of silver if you agree to fight on his behalf, half to be paid now, and half to be paid on the conclusion of the campaign.'

It was a munificent offer and characteristic of Knut's statecraft: silver coins rather than iron weapons were his tools of preference.

When Kjartan had finished speaking, a senior member of the Jomsviking council rose to reply. It was a generous proposal, worthy of a generous ruler, he began. He himself would recommend acceptance, but it was the custom of the Jomsviking assembly that any member of the felag could state his views, whether for or against, and he called upon anyone who wished to express an opinion to speak up. One after another, Jomsvikings came forward to address the assembly. All were in favour of accepting Knut's offer, which was not surprising. The advance payment of fifteen marks for every man was an enticing prospect and it seemed that further discussion was a mere formality. Until Thrand spoke.

He had been sitting with the other members of the council, and when he rose to give his opinion a hush fell on the gathering. Everyone in the hall also knew that he was a survivor of the original felag.

'Brothers of the felag,' he began, 'before you make your decision whether or not to accept the King of England's offer, I want his emissary to answer one question.' Turning to Kjartan, he asked, 'Is it true that in agreeing to join King Knut's army, we could find ourselves fighting alongside, or even under the command of, Knut's deputy in military affairs: the leader of the royal huscarls, his earl known as Thorkel the Tall?'

The man standing beside me abruptly sucked in his breath, as though a raw nerve had been exposed. Behind Thrand several older members of the council looked uncomfortable.

'And am I right in thinking,' Thrand continued, 'that this same Thorkel, more than thirty years ago, broke his Jomsviking vow when he, with his crew, turned tail and abandoned his brothers who were left, unaided, to fight the Norwegian Haakon and his fleet?'

A terrible hush had fallen over the assembly. A few paces from me someone was whispering to his neighbour the story of the disgrace, when the honour of the Jomsvikings was shattered.

Kjartan rose to give his answer. All could see that he had been shaken. He had not anticipated this. Thrand's question implied that no Jomsviking should go to the assistance of a man who had betrayed the fellowship. We waited expectantly. The pause lengthened slowly and became an embarrassment. I felt sorry for Kjartan. He was a soldier, not a diplomat, and he could not come up with the fine words to wriggle out of the dilemma.

When he finally spoke he was hesitant. 'Yes, Knut's most trusted earl is the same Thorkel who was a member of your fellowship. Thorkel has become a great war leader, won riches, earned the confidence of the king. I believe that you should be proud of what he has become, rather than remember what happened thirty years ago.'

His words made little impression. I could feel the scepticism of the crowd grow around me, their mood suddenly changed. Kjartan felt it too. He knew that his mission was on the verge of collapse. He scanned the faces of the crowd. I was standing close to the front, looking up at him and, like all the others, waiting for him to continue. Our eyes met, and suddenly Kjartan announced.

'You don't have to take my word for it. One of your own brotherhood has met Thorkel the Tall at King Knut's court, and he can tell you about him now.' He beckoned to me and, after a moment's surprised hesitation, I stepped forward to stand beside him. He gripped my elbow and whispered in my ear, 'Thorgils, for the memory of Edgar the huntsman, try to say something to make them accept my proposal.'

Turning to face my audience, my breath seemed to leave my lungs. A couple of hundred warriors were looking at me curiously and I could scarcely breathe. For the first time in my life I had been called upon to address a large gathering and my mind was in turmoil. I realised that I held the balance between two men to whom I owed great debts: Thrand, who had been my mentor over the years, and Kjartan, who had stood by me when I was in desperate need in England. I had to find a middle way without dishonouring either man.

Odinn came to my rescue.

I cleared my throat and, stammering over the first few syllables, said, 'I am Thorgils, a follower of Odinn, and I have always let the High One be my guide - Kjartan is my friend and I know him to be an honest man, so I believe he is carrying an honest message. Thrand is also my friend and has told me of the cowardice of Thorkel and the others in the fight against Earl Haakon. Yet I have seen how high Thorkel the Tall then rose in the court of King Knut, and I know that he would never have achieved such fame and wealth if he had stayed to fight and die. So I say — let Odinn's wisdom guide you, and accept this as his sign. Seventy survivors of our felag came before Earl Haakon for judgement, and this is the seventieth of the High One's sayings.'