Chapter 10: Wouldst Resume Your Tale Now?

“Wouldst resume your tale now, Mother,” Thorstein’s voice removed me from my smiling reverie, for I remembered every detail of that first night with my husband, and that smile remained, for Harald Wolf’s-Fang had been a man insatiable, and his men had not begrudged him his pleasure, and I had not been loathe give myself to him in any way he desired, and soon had I accustomed myself to that lack of privacy on Harald’s longship, for these men knew everything of each other, and I was their Lord’s wife, and happy and content had been my time with my husband both on the longship as we rode the whales way, and over these two score years of marriage that had followed.

Nor did I begrudge him his other women, for I was ever first in his heart, and I had known a happiness and a love I had never expected to experience, and in my prayers to the Buddha, I thanked my father for his decision, though the outcome had not been as my father planned for or expected, but indeed, I was safe, and I was happy, and my father’s blood lived on, and that was indeed what my father had desired above all.

“The night is late, my son,” I said. “And now my tale of Huginn’s Yule is told,” and my fingers drew now those plaintive notes from my erhu, and I had spoken now for hours, recounting my tale to a silent Hall. “For after our wedding night, King Harald Wolfs-Fang took me onto his dragon-ship, and now there were three ships, and we rowed up that river that is called the Vlaga, and we portaged across the grassland to the River that is called the Don, and then sailed down to that sea that the Rome-folk call the Black Sea. Thence we sailed to Miklagard, and we traded our cargo for gold and silver, and then we passed peacefully through that city of the Rome-folk of the East, for it was strongly guarded by many soldiers.

Raiding our way through the great sea of the south, we passed through the Pillars of Hercules and turned north, raiding the lands of the Visigoths and the Franks, for more ships hastened to join us as the tales of our victories spread ahead of us, after which we returned home with many warriors and great wealth, and it was then that King Harald Wolfs-Fang took this land for his own, and founded his kingdom, as was his heart’s desire.

Long is the tale of that voyage, and those victories. Many were the men slain, and rich were the spoils taken by King Harald, and that is a tale I will tell another night, for now I am weary and the midnight hour approaches, but one more thing I must add to this tale. Ever I fought at King Harald’s side, as many here know from the tales of their fathers and their older brothers and kinfolk, and my son Thorstein, now King, and all my sons and daughters, they were born here, and I have gone no more a-viking, although all here know that King Harald oft raided far abroad, but always here he returned, to his hearth and his folk, and to me, his wife.

Now my children are grown, my oldest son is King, my younger sons are fine warriors and many of my daughters are of an age to be married, if they are not already, and as all here know, King Thorstein desires to lead the folk south, to take a new land, carve a new kingdom from the lands where the Rome-folk once ruled, and I have sailed by those lands, and they are rich lands, lands on which the folk may flourish and grow, and when King Thorstein leads the folk south, it is my wish to join you.”

I smiled now, and my fingers played faster, the music of battle, of swords clashing, of blood flowing, and it was the music of my people, but that music called also to the folk, for my people and the folk, they were both warrior-peoples, people of the sword and the spear.

“I would once more go a-viking. I would stand on the prow of a dragon-ship as the shore approaches, looking out at a new land to conquer; at enemies to slay, at thralls to make, at a kingdom to build. I would once more have my sword drink the ravens-drink. I would once more feed the ravens as the war-hird follow their King to victory.”

My fingers played now, softly, the music fading away, and all knew my tale had ended, and before me, Aelfwyn smiled and closed his eyes, and his face was white, and the cloth that bound him was soaked red with the ravens food, and Thorstein knelt beside him and gave him the mercy knife, swift and fast so that he shuddered once, and all knew he slept the ravens sleep, and he had passed on to Valhalla, and he was laid to join his comrades against the walls, sword in hand, and not a voice was raised until at last, Guðlaf stood and strode forward to stand before the dais.

“King Thorstein,” he cried out in a voice that all in that Great Hall might hear, and all listened, for who knew what such a man might say, for the Yuletide Ale had flowed as I spoke, and many had drunk mighty draughts, and strong indeed that Yuletide ale was, and much truth is spoken when the ale befuddles a man’s self-control.

“Speak, Guðlaf,” Thorstein said, and he too had drunk much ale, and his cup was the cup his father had seen made from Horsa Önundarson’s skull, for his father had bequeathed that cup to Thorstein, and I smiled once more at the memory.

“My shield-comrades and I have listened to this Tale of Huginn’s Yule, and we have thought also on your words, King Thorstein,” Guðlaf said. “And it is in our minds that it is not needful to wait for the morrow, for all here have heard the Lady Fan speak, and all here have seen her sword-play, and all my shield-comrades are agreed as one that ‘tis an honor to serve as guard for such a Lady. Thus, we have made our decision, and it is our decision to take your salt, Lord, and to swear oath to you, and to the Lady Fan, and it is not needful to wait, for all agree that this is an honorable thing to do, and fortunate indeed are we to take service under a just and honorable King, and honored we are to guard the Lady Fan with our swords, our shields and our lives.”

“Come forward then, all who would take oath to me,” Thorstein said, and so they did, every one of those men who had been Hengist’s, coming forward to kneel and swear fealty to my son, and swearing also to guard me with their lives, and ‘twas an ending to my Tale that all agreed would be told and retold throughout the North country, and no doubt the story would grow in the telling, and to every man who swore oath to him that night, Thorstein gifted a gold arm-ring, and his housecarls praised him mightily as a ring-giver and a King to whom warriors would throng when he embarked on his journey to the south land.

“Mother,” my son said, and the hour was later still, but his expression was as one deep in thought. “Possible it must be to reach your homeland, far across the great grasslands though it lies, for you found your way here. Where a way can be found from there to here, surely a way can also be found from here to there, and you were a Princess, related to the Emperor of your homeland, and possible it might be to restore that Empire if your name was recognized and men answered your call.”

“No, Thorstein,” I said at last, for I was sorely tempted. “I would not waste your courage and that of your warriors on a quest so fruitless. When I was dispatched as a bride to the Khan of the Western Rouran, the Western Avars, so many years ago, my homeland was in turmoil, fighting enemies on all sides, and I was but an insignificant relation to the Emperor Daowu, a distant cousin with no claim to the throne that any would recognize. Northern Wei fell long ago, and my father and my brothers fell with the Emperor, fighting at his side to the last. That I know, for the last dispatches reached me as we crossed the lands of the Rouran, and I knew then that all was lost, and there was nothing for me to return to.”

“No, Thorstein,” I said again, staring into those flames, and sorely I missed those flickering lanterns that would light the palace in which I had grown up as brightly as if it were midday. “No, there is nothing for me there, and for you and your warriors, twould be certain death, for the armies of Eastern Wei and of Southern Qi and of the Avars and of every land between are as numerous as the grains of sand on a beach. Many are your followers here, many are the warriors you could raise but against the armies of the Avars and the Eastern Qi, and the Southern Qi, and those in between, they would be but a bucket in an ocean, and your men, they are the sea eagles, they are the wolves of the sea, but they are not the horsemen of the steppe, and against the bows and the arrows of the steppe peoples, they would not last more than a few days, and you have seen my skill with the bow, and I am but a woman.”

I shook my head. “And even should we reach what was Northern Wei, ‘twas forty years ago I was sent as a gift to the Khan of the Rouran, the Avars, and none now living in what was once my homeland would even remember the girl I once was. They might remember my father, but my father is dead these two score years and more, and there are none who would rise to follow you there, for I was an unknown girl when I was sent away.”

I looked at my son now. Looked into his eyes and there was ambition there. Ambition, and a desire for fame and fortune, an ability to command men, an ability to lead such as King Harald and my own Father had both possessed.

“No, Thorstein. Your future is here, as King of your folk, and your God’s are your father’s gods. The one-eyed Wōdan, your namesake. Thor, Tyr, and all the others, and to the south, what was once the Empire of the Romans falls to the Huns, the Franks, the Avars, the Alans, the Lombards, the Burgundians, the Vandals, the Ostrogoths and the Visigoths and the other peoples from here in the North, the Goths, the Saxons, the Angles, the Jutes, even the Danefolk. There is where your future lies, in the conquest of the South, and there you should look, for your dragon-ships will take you there, where they will not carry you to the lands of my fathers.”

“Look you to the south, Thorstein,” I said again. “For there you may go a-Viking, and your sword and your men will win you a kingdom such as you will not make here in the north country, and many are the warriors who will flock to your standard.”