King Hereafter (32 page)

He laughed, and it was clear and musical, like his voice. ‘It was, of course, for your dwarf,’ he said. ‘I suppose you keep several? I know you have bards. I got someone to sing one of the latest poems:

‘That is something the rest of us envy you. There are no bards singing the praises of Rognvald.’

‘I shall ask Arnór if he has a friend,’ Thorfinn said. ‘Here are some men you may know. And some wine.’

It was half an hour before he had finished greeting everyone, and another hour before the chatter at the board died away. He had kissed Thorkel Fóstri on both cheeks and given a gold ring, quietly, to the girl who brought his wine. At length—

‘We have begun to know each other, dear Thorfinn,’ he said. ‘And that is good. But still there are matters between us that must be settled before we may be comfortable and love one another as uncle and nephew should. Should we speak of this alone?’

‘There is no need. You have asked for the share of these islands that used to belong to the Earl Brusi your father. Indeed, you are settled there. You have a claim to them. I shall not dispute it,’ Thorfinn said.

‘How should you dispute it?’ said Rognvald, smiling. ‘You are my dear uncle and kinsman whom I trust, and I would not weary you by mentioning the matter, except to thank you for your stewardship over the years. I said as much to King Magnús when I told him I was yearning to hold my odal lands in Orkney again, and when he gave me my title of Earl and the three warships that perhaps you saw. I said that I had known you when you were young and knew your mind, and that you would return, willingly and freely, the heritage that was my father’s, and also the second third of the isles, that King Olaf kept in fief, and which King Magnús has now seen fit to give me.…

‘This is a hall my father loved,’ Rognvald said, ‘and I see you kept it as he had it, except for what the years may have done, here and there. But you have your other lodging, I know, in west mainland, for when you tire of your rich lands in Alba. You will not grudge your own kindred the means by which to make a living. I told King Magnús as much.’

His face, mobile and lovely, looked up wistfully into Thorfinn’s black, impassive visage.

Thorfinn said, ‘The wind gets noisier every year. Would you mind repeating what you have just said? You wish me to give you two-thirds of Orkney?’

An expression of sorrow flickered across Rognvald’s face and was gone. ‘King Magnús wishes it,’ he said. ‘Perhaps you don’t remember paying homage to Norway in King Olaf’s day, but Thorkel here will remind you. The northern third is mine, through my father. And the southern isles fell to King Olaf after the killing of my uncle Earl Einar, and he kept these in fief. My father had them in his lifetime, and King Magnús has given them to me his son now. Making one hundred and eighty-eight ouncelands in all. You still have west mainland and Rousay and Egilsay. You might even, for a consideration, look after Orphir for me. I would not have you deprived.’

‘Thank you,’ said Thorfinn. ‘Do you know, of us all, my lady wife here
turns out to understand you best. She said you had courage. And a sense of humour.’

Rognvald’s smile became deeper. He had a dimple. ‘As does everyone in this hall, I trust your wisdom,’ he said. The men who follow you and me expect us to recognise what is fair, otherwise what are their prospects under us? Young as he is, even King Magnús strives hard to hold by this rule, now that he has attained his majority, with none to act for him.’

Finding that her eyes were stretched to their uttermost, Groa dropped her lids and unclasped her fingers. The meaning of all that was unmistakable.

Kalv is no longer regent. Don’t expect him to be able to save you for your wife’s sake. Even if you lose your head and attack me, your men probably won’t follow. You are not as young as you were, and no beauty
.

She considered her husband. That at least was true. And he was twenty-seven.

Earl Thorfinn said, ‘Well, Rognvald, you put your case excellently. I think I see exactly what you mean. I shall send you my answer with as little delay as may be. Now, I expect you wish to get on your way while it is daylight.’

Being summer, it would be daylight for another five hours.

Rognvald said, ‘Is there something you cannot understand?’

‘No,’ Thorfinn said. ‘No, I can’t say there is. But we in Orkney like to give proper thought to anything new. You will be told as soon as we have a reply for you.’

He got up, and so, raggedly, did his company. After an interval, Rognvald stood as well, followed by his three men. He said, ‘I had expected to finish this business today. In fact, I can hardly halt my plans to move into this hall by next week.’

‘Why halt them?’ said Thorfinn. ‘If we are still here, we are still here, and I am sure there will be room of a kind for everybody, although it might be uncomfortable for some. If you find there is no need to come south yet, of course, so much the better for both of us.… Here are your horses already. I cannot remember,’ Thorfinn said, ‘when I have seen such a fine pair of spurs. I hope you will remember not to use them too freely in Orkney. It is not Kiev, as you notice. There is small room for manoeuvering and a great number of big, harmful boulders.… An uncle’s blessing upon you.’

Everyone could see the gravity in the delicate face as Rognvald listened to that. Then the white-toothed smile returned, and, without haste, Thorfinn’s nephew made his farewells, gathered his men, and rode off.

‘What …?’ said Thorkel Fóstri.

‘I have saved my face,’ said Thorfinn. ‘And one-third of Orkney. If you think you could have done better, you are welcome to try. Otherwise you wait a week and then send a message complying. I shan’t be here. I shall be in Caithness for the rest of the summer.’

He caught sight of Groa’s face. ‘I am sure you would prefer to stay,’ Thorfinn said. ‘If you do, I have not the least objection.’

*   *   *

By the time Rognvald got his reply, there had evacuated to Caithness from the south isles all those lendermen or others who had reason to fear a change of lord, or who wished for their own reasons to stay with Thorfinn.

On the west mainland, Thorkel Fóstri was already ensconced with a force of men three times the number of Rognvald’s, with well-stocked farms and barns to feed them from. This was one-third of Orkney to which Rognvald was not entitled, and which, lacking Norwegian support, he was to have no opportunity to encroach on.

The arrangements for some of this were already made before Rognvald ever set foot on Orkney. The rest were launched that evening, almost before the hoof-beats of his horses had faded.

In them, the Earl Thorfinn’s wife Groa took no share. Familiar with the domestic repercussions of failure, Groa kept out of her second husband’s path on the evening of Rognvald’s departure, and concerned herself with the disposal of her own household and servants. By midnight, when there were still other people’s garrons in the field and light and noise in the hall, she decided not to return there, but to sleep with the women and Sinna.

It took her some moments, when she got there, to realise that Sinna was unwilling to receive her. ‘What is it?’ said the Lady of one-third of Orkney. ‘Sinna, I’m tired.’

Sinna said, ‘Lady: tonight is your place not with your lord?’

‘Only when he’s successful,’ said Groa. ‘I expect that you remember Gillacomghain?’

‘It is still your place,’ Sinna said. ‘Thorkel Fóstri says so.’

‘Thorkel Fóstri!’ Groa stared at the Irishwoman. ‘Then it is serious. Unless Thorkel Fóstri makes a habit of discussing his lord with you? He certainly doesn’t with me.’

Sinna shook her head. She had made no effort to open the door any further. ‘Oh, well,’ said Groa bad-temperedly and turned and stalked back to the reeking hall. She had a very clear idea of how she had succeeded in sobering Gillacomghain, in the end.

She opened the hall door and an emanation of hot oil and sweat and smoke and ale fumes and foodstuffs struck her, together with the subterranean cadences of her husband’s voice, undimmed in energy, remorselessly issuing instructions. She turned and made to go out.

As she feared, he had seen her. Ending what he was saying, he rose from the high chair, threw some final words to someone in a corner, and followed her out. ‘Have I kept you from your bed? I’m sorry.’

She walked vaguely in the direction of the small stream that ran down to the shore; remembered another conversation at night, out of doors, and halted preparatory to returning, without evident haste, to Sinna’s hut. She said, ‘Not at all. I came to apply balm to your wounds at the request of the more tender-hearted of your henchmen. But you don’t seem to require consoling or sobering.’

She realised she had let someone down as soon as she heard the tone of his voice. ‘Who? Sulien?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said. ‘Have you finished now for the night?’

‘Then Thorkel,’ he said. ‘And thank you both for your opinion of me. Whatever I run crying from, it’s not this.’

‘Well, perhaps you should,’ said Groa, caught on the wrong foot and cross in her turn. ‘You’ve lost two-thirds of your earldom without a blow struck or a word raised in anger. You did the same thing fifteen years ago. Kalv told me.’

‘I’m not sure,’ said Earl Thorfinn, ‘that I want to be reminded of Kalv at this moment. The inadequacies of a thirteen-year-old I can only apologise for. The bloodless game you saw played just now happened that way because the only alternative was full-scale war against Norway, including the Arnasons. To you that may seem a good idea, for, with Harold Harefoot busy nursing his throne and Duncan with his head in the ground acting buffer, I should have no help from the south, and, even throwing in Moray and Caithness, Magnús would overwhelm us with numbers.

‘I don’t want that, however poor a figure I seem to cut as a result. In fact, there has been time to prepare for it. Whenever there has been an over-strong King of Norway or a bad Earl of Orkney, men have simply slipped out of the islands to Caithness or the Western Isles.

‘Magnús may not have a long reign. And although Rognvald has come at harvest-time, he has several hundred men to feed through the winter with no reserves to draw on such as we have in Caithness.

‘Meanwhile, my fleet is safe, and still the biggest in northern waters. A few successful landings; a good summer’s trade; a generous disposal of booty, and the popular opinion of me will rise.’ He had come to a halt, speaking quietly, outside Sinna’s door.

‘At least you and Arnór haven’t lost confidence in one another,’ Groa said. ‘He must make a song out of it. So I scuttle to Moray, and you turn pirate? Because of one blustering child?’

‘Weren’t you impressed? You ought to have been. Everything he said and did has been planned for a very long time. Even at a distance, you could see it taking shape. I could do nothing to prevent it, and he knew it. Whatever else he is, he is not a blustering child. He is, in fact, just two years younger than I am.’

He paused. ‘It seemed likely that he would claim the south isles as well. I had prepared for it. And there are some prospects other than piracy. That was why we went to the enthronement. That was why there was more than one reason for cultivating Eachmarcach. I have land on the southwest coast, now.’

‘I see,’ said Groa. ‘What you have had is a success. Allow me to congratulate you and wish you a very good night. If you have any bad luck, send for me.’

She had come, against her inclinations, to bind up his wounds, and he had none. Or if he had, he had found a consolation for them in a field which had already received the weight of Sulien’s disapproval.

He has a taste for intrigue, as an ox enjoys salt
, Sulien had said. The Earl of
Orkney had lost two-thirds of his islands and, for all one could tell, was enjoying it.

If anyone had told the red-haired Lady of Orkney that her husband’s people would show they had missed her when she returned to her own lands of Moray, she would have been pleased but disbelieving: but so it transpired. What her husband thought about her reception, no one knew. Earl Thorfinn, whatever he was doing, set a pace of his own that was hard enough to keep up with, without trying to understand him as well.

In Orkney, matters settled. Rognvald made no effort to seize what did not belong to him, and was considerate to the bonder in the two parts of the islands which he had moved into. The only landowners likely to be resentful, as Thorfinn had predicted, were those who, like Thorkel Fóstri after Earl Sigurd’s death, had had to leave their homes and property to begin a new life elsewhere. On the other hand, there was plenty of land, some of it already farmed by other branches of the same Orcadian families. And Thorfinn, as he had told his wife, had made sure that they would have little chance to repine.

The summer passed, and the winter. Magnús, King of Norway, sent his
gjaldkeri
to exact rents from both Earls of Orkney, which both Earls of Orkney paid without demur. Duncan, King of Alba, at his father’s request, sent his father to Moray to collect what was due to him there. The lord Crinan did not see Groa, who was staying elsewhere, but received his rents from Thorfinn’s steward and gleaned some interesting information about the situation in Orkney.

The Lady Emma began to store silver again.

In Norway, Kalv Arnason and his brother Finn fell out over the departure of Rognvald, which otherwise caused some general satisfaction, as removing a dangerous favourite from King Magnús’s side. Although conscious of no immediate improvement in his status as demoted regent, Kalv threw himself with enthusiasm into the common occupation of harassing Denmark, and, as a result, the Lady Emma’s son Hardecanute was prevented yet again from crossing the sea to attend to his late father’s kingdom of England.

In England, Hardecanute’s dilemma was noted. His half-brother and joint King, Harold Harefoot, settled into his throne, drew a long sprinter’s breath, and informed his stepmother the Lady Emma that her presence in England was no longer convenient.