Chapter 10

The fifty warriors who rode after Leif were supposed to be the most obedient, disciplined, efficient and well-trained men among the available forces of King Olaf, but Leif found that hard to believe - though he wisely kept his doubts to himself. It was true that the fellows, all as one, were tall and strong, but the way some of them rode was very much like that of a drunken farmer on the back of his donkey, and not like that of an excellent warrior on the back of a battle stallion. There were many who wore their weapons in a negligent way, and all along, the column hummed with chatter, laughter and jokes which should not have been uttered if there had been even a single woman in their company, no matter how low of birth.

So much for the hopes of proceeding discreetly, Leif thought ruefully. It could be said in favor of the men, though, that in their dress and speech they did not reveal their belonging directly to the king - but if the need should come for secret action, he doubted he would be able to choose five or six men fit to come with him. He would have dearly wished for his own men to be by his side during this journey, instead of those chosen by the king, but he had no choice. It was clear that the king's trust in him was very narrowly conditioned. Some of the men riding with me are meant to spy on me, no doubt.

At least he will soon see one true friend, thought Leif - Thorvard, who was like a brother to him. Yet he felt guilty for having to get Thorvard involved in such a doubtful and perhaps dangerous affair, not to mention that it might make a meeting between him and Freydis possible, and that was something he wished with all his might he could avoid.

Freydis. Anger and concern mixed in his heart when he thought of her. In truth, it was not clear why her disappearance should surprise him and his mother so - it was very much in her character to do something stupid and dangerous out of pride and ambition, without using her common sense or considering how her decisions might affect others. If it turns out Freydis is involved in some plot against the king’s rule - and of this, he was sorry to say, he almost had no doubt left - and it becomes known, they might all lose their lives; himself, Freydis, his mother, even all his men. And even if they all manage to save their skins, the king will be in no hurry to forgive them.

"We are getting closer," Bjorn's voice shook him out of his thoughts. Bjorn was one of the few people in the company Leif felt he can, perhaps, trust. He was an experienced warrior, about Leif's age, while many others were green boys. He was shrewd and well-worded, and knew how to make others laugh until tears came into their eyes, though he was stingy with smiles himself - perhaps because about half his teeth were shattered in some fight or other. Bjorn was a great rider, and spent most of his time in the saddle. Those who laughed at him behind his back said that this is how he compensates for his lack of height - he was almost a dwarf - and for his malformed legs. And truly, when he sat in the saddle on the back of his horse, his wide shoulders and long arms gave him the look of a man much taller than he really was. With his horse he had a special relationship - he would always brush its fur, make sure it ate well even when the men themselves hardly had a piece of bread and a bit of salt cod to quench their hunger, and often talked to it quietly.

Now he gently spurred his horse onward and left his place in the column, so that he rode by Leif's side.

"The owner of these lands is a good man, and loyal to the king, so I have heard," said Bjorn. "He will probably allow us to set camp in his fields, and perhaps will even give us some provisions."

"Of course," replied Leif, "Ulf Skullason is a good and generous man, so I've heard from his nephew Thorvard."

Bjorn looked at him, surprised. "You know the nephew of Ulf Skullason? How come?"

"Thorvard is the son of Thorbjorn, and Thorbjorn joined my father in his first journey to Greenland," Leif said cautiously. He preferred not to reveal his close friendship with Thorvard, nor the family connection between them, out of fear that perhaps in a short while such a connection might not be for the good of his friend. "Now Thorvard is spending the winter here. I have no doubt we will be well-received."

He looked forward, to the plowed fields the black land of which was not covered with snow yet, to the neatly marked borders. In a deep valley between two mountains he could see the house of Thorvard's relations. It was a pleasant corner, and Leif felt guilty for being obliged to break up its peace.

Ulf, Thorvard's uncle, was a big, fat and strong man, with a long auburn beard that fell to his waist, and a thundering voice that could be heard at a great distance. His wife Brunhild, on the other hand, had a lean, handsome figure, though she had borne and brought up eight children, and her ways were quiet and pleasant. But in both of them, the same qualities of a honest, generous heart could be perceived - the same character Leif knew in Thorvard and his father Thorbjorn. When Ulf heard who Leif was, he refused to allow his men to seek shelter in the fields for the night, and insisted on getting everybody under his roof, though there wasn't much room.

"I will not allow honest men, let alone the king's men, to freeze outside our walls. The boys can find a place in the barns and upon the benches in the main hall. And you, a friend and brother of our Thorvard, will get a good, comfortable bed. And don't be too shy to use the bathhouse. Forgive me for my honesty, but after some days upon the road anyone would need it."

And Ulf broke out in a loud chuckle.

"I thank you for your hospitality," said Leif, though he thought to himself that some of the men will probably be obliged to sleep under the benches. Still, it was far better than the idea of setting camp in a field.

Leif was brought through the doors, into the house, and attempted to steer his conversation with Thorvard, when they met, to anything but what truly concerned him. They exchanged news, and Thorvard inquired after the health of Erik and Thjodhild. Leif also described in broad terms what he was sent for, but was careful not to mention Freydis.

"There are some earls in the area whom I always believed to be not truly loyal to our king Olaf," said Brunhild. "I will not be surprised to find out they are plotting together."

"Just between us, Leif," said Ulf, lowering his voice, "I don't always agree with every move of the king. Sometimes, I think, King Olaf is too soft, and sometimes he labors under schemes and intrigues where it would be more efficient, in my humble opinion, to show firmness and bravery and to strike with force. Also, I do not at all approve of the massive conversion to Christianity that is encountered at every corner. As you can see, all the members of our household remain loyal to the Old Ways, but it seems that soon we will be unwanted in Norway, despite out loyalty to the king. Still, all this does not change the fact that Norway needs one king, needs union. If the kingdom falls, our land will turn into a carcass the dead-eaters devour. For Norway's union, some must give up selfish ambition, but they do not understand this and will not accept this until they feel the king's strength. That is why you can count on us. Me, my sons, my nephew Thorvard and all my household men will help you in every way we can."

A young maid of about sixteen or seventeen years, with eyes blue like the summer sky and a long, thick golden braid that fell down her slim back, entered and served them beer, a round of cheese and steaming hot rye bread. Leif did not fail to notice the faint blush that sprang into her cheeks when she dared to steal a glance in the direction of Thorvard, who looked as if he didn't notice her and remained indifferent.

"Thank you, Dalla, my daughter," said Ulf. Dalla did not leave, but remained standing in a corner of the room, behind her mother's back, almost as if she were a servant.

When everybody sat down to eat and drink, the door was opened a little, and a small girl entered with a patter of short chubby legs. This was the one about whom Leif did not dare to ask - his niece Sygni, who was now about three years old. Without saying a word, she climbed into her father's lap and held on to him, looking curiously and apprehensively at the strangers. Leif had not seen Sygni since she was a babe. Now he looked at her as curiously as she at him. She had delicate features very reminiscent of Freydis, but her hair and eyes were dark like her father's. A pretty girl, thought Leif. He soon captured his niece's heart by playing the fool, and later bounced her up and down on his knee. She gave a long, rolling laugh, jumped down upon the floor, ran around the table and finally got under it.

"I know you are the brother of... Thorvard's wife," Brunhild said in his ear quietly, almost apologetically. "But please, do not believe we think any the worse of you for it. Thorvard told us you had always been friends, and that you tried to warn him against her, too."

She spoke in a resonating, dramatic whisper that ensured that her words were heard at every corner of the table. Thorvard pretended to be deaf, but his face was stony.

"Brunhild," Ulf said warningly, and his wife fell silent.

When Leif and his friend remained alone, Thorvard grew even more serious.

"I expected you to come and visit me, Leif," he said, "but I did not think you would arrive accompanied by fifty men."

"I didn't plan to find myself involved in the king's power games," said Leif, "but I had no choice."

"That is not all, is it?" Thorvard asked shrewdly. "You look too troubled. I know you well. Tell me, Leif. What truly happened ever since you arrived at Norway?"

The beautiful and gentle face of Princess Thorgunna appeared before Leif's eyes, so close to his own in the dim light of her chamber. But his mouth was firmly set and his lips did not mention her name. This secret, he knew, he will tell nobody of his own free will, even if he is tortured with white-hot iron. Instead, he began telling Thorvard of Freydis and the inexplicable relationship that had developed between her and Ingvar Haraldson, and felt deeper and deeper guilt as he spoke and saw how Thorvard's face darkens, how his brows come close together and his jaw becomes more square-shaped than ever.

"Do you mean to say," he said in a voice unsteady with indignation he tried in vain to conceal, "that you are asking me to help you save her?"

"No one knows better than I do that she doesn't deserve your help," Leif said quickly, "but if it becomes known that she is involved in this, we will all be in danger."

Thorvard, despite his gruff appearance, was a good man, but now his eyes burned with the desire of revenge.

"I cannot refuse you," he said finally. "Only for your sake, and for Thjodhild's - I do not wish you to get a blast of the king’s wrath. As for Freydis, forgive me, but she deserves to be caught and put to death. She brought this upon herself."

"Just let me get my hands on her," Leif promised, "and I will lock her up until it is time to sail back to Greenland, and there Father will make sure that she never leaves Brattahlid again for all the rest of her life, and never speaks to anyone but the household people."

"Be careful," Thorvard advised him. "Your sister is capable of doing to you what she did to me - she might make your men rebel against you, and convince them to sail to Vinland instead of Greenland."

"My men are too experienced to fall into a trap such as this," said Leif. "No, as far as it depends on me, Freydis will never see Vinland again. But you and I, my friend, will sail there yet, and Thorvald and Thorstein with us, and perhaps Father as well."

To his surprise, Thorvard's face grew even sterner. "I do not mean to return," he confessed.

"You will stay in Norway?" Leif raised his eyebrows.

"My father had not been exiled. He left of his own free will, and no one will refuse me the right of living here. My days of adventure are over. All I seek now is some peace. I have endured enough storms."

"But Greenland is your home," Leif didn't give up, "and your second home is the sea."

"I shall make a home for myself here," said Thorvard, and though he spoke determinedly, Leif recognized a hint of defeat in the familiar voice of his friend. "Uncle Ulf is good and generous to me. I can get some land - a little to the north from here, true, but good fertile land. I have enough silver to set up a farm."

"And Dalla?" Leif threw a cautious guess, after a short silence.

"Dalla is a good girl," said Thorvard.

"And beautiful," added Leif.

Thorvard, in a sharp movement, turned his back on his good-brother and balled his hands into fists.

"You know how hard I had tried, Leif. But Freydis acted behind my back. She shamed me, she betrayed me, she put me and all my people in danger. And she was entirely self-focused. She was interested in nothing but sorcery, ambition, revenge. She cared for nothing else, not even our daughter."

Leif put a hand on his shoulder. "I know," he said quietly. "I did not think to blame you for trying to make a fresh start."

"Dalla will make a good wife," said Thorvard. "I haven't spoken directly to Uncle Ulf yet, but from various hints I picked up it looks as if she will consent to accept me."

Humble as always, Thorvard, thought Leif. The girl cannot take her eyes off you.

"I am sure she would be very happy to marry you," Leif ventured to say encouragingly.

"She will be a good wife," repeated Thorvard. "She loves Sygni and will raise her dutifully, and will bear me sons and run my home diligently. If there is anything to make me doubt, it is her age. She is almost a child."

A frightened child, thought Leif. But sometimes it brings no harm if a woman has a healthy dose of fear of her husband. Freydis, for instance, could have benefitted from it. However, what he said aloud was:

"No one can hope for a better husband than you, my friend."

"We shall always be brothers," replied Thorvard, and they embraced.

"In the morning we will go down two different paths," said Thorvard after a moment's silence. "You and your men will go west, while we turn east. This way, I believe, you have a higher chance of succeeding - and I do hope I am right, for I have no wish to meet Freydis again. Ever."

The glint of ill-will that sparkled in the eyes of his friend caused Leif deep uneasiness. He hoped to be the one to find Freydis - for her own good.