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Authors: Kevin Crossley-Holland

BOOK: Scramasax
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‘I can,' said Solveig at once, even though she didn't know how.

‘No one can.' Maria's eyes flooded with tears.

At this moment another beardless man entered the chamber. He bowed to the two young women and then he asked Maria to tell Solveig that her father Halfdan wished to speak to her and was waiting for her in the guardroom.

‘Go!' Maria told her. ‘He needs you and you need him. You must keep him company while you still can.'

Halfdan was alone, and Solveig clung to him.

‘It's not what I want and not what you want,' he told her. And then he thrust out his elbows as if he were trying to escape from an armlock. ‘But neither of us can do a thing about it.'

Solveig took a step back. ‘I asked the Empress,' she said. ‘I told her I wanted to go to Sicily.'

Halfdan snorted. ‘And she got down on one knee and granted your wish.'

‘No,' Solveig replied, ‘but she said she understood. And she said how stubborn I was.'

‘You are.'

‘I think she meant she liked how I spoke up for myself – and for you.'

‘Solva,' her father said, ‘first your audience with the Empress. Then your meeting with sweet Maria …'

‘She is,' agreed Solveig.

Halfdan grinned. ‘I know! There isn't one guard who wouldn't like to …'

‘The Empress would have them strangled,' protested Solveig.

Halfdan nodded. ‘I want to hear everything, beginning at the beginning. Come on!'

Halfdan led the way, limping out of the airy room and along the dark, candlelit corridor.

‘Where are we going?' Solveig asked her father as they left the palace precincts.

‘The Column of Serpents … You'll see.'

Then she and her father began to talk as they had not done since they had stood on the battlefield at Stiklestad almost a year before. They talked and talked, and for the most part, Halfdan asked the questions.

‘King Yaroslav was right,' he said, ‘when he told you he'd never known the like of it. Travelling on your own from Trondheim to Miklagard! There must have been times when you felt afraid.'

‘Oh yes!' replied Solveig. ‘Many.' She paused. ‘But never more than the night before I left.'

‘How did you face that?'

‘I went down to the graveyard. They kept me company, all the grandparents and great-grandparents I've never known. I knelt beside my mother's grave and told her I'd never been so afraid, but also never so sure of what I had to do.'

Halfdan nodded. ‘Asta didn't suspect you?'

‘Not until it was too late. I could hear her calling. I still can.'

‘There are some things,' observed her father, ‘some sights, some scents even, that we carry with us all our lives.'

‘The sweet scent of pinewood, that's one. The tables and chairs and doors and everything here are so dark and grubby, but pinewood is so light and bright and clean.'

‘Nothing better,' her father agreed.

‘Yes,' said Solveig, ‘I was afraid. Several times. Those cataracts.'

‘Dreadful!' exclaimed Halfdan.

‘I was attacked by hounds … and I fell asleep in the fjord and was carried far beyond Trondheim … and Bulgar merchants tried to buy me as a slave … and little Brita – when we were portaging she tripped and fell right under the keel of our boat …' Solveig shuddered.

‘Each question has many answers,' Halfdan told her. ‘And each answer leads us to more questions. However well a traveller is prepared, he still needs hospitality and good fortune.'

‘That's true.'

‘So, Solva, who was hospitable to you?'

‘Many people. In Trondheim an old couple welcomed me to their hearth. Well, Bera did. She led me to the Swedish traders, and unless they'd taken me with them …'

‘What did you offer them in return?'

‘My carving,' said Solva. ‘I paid my passage all the way here with my carvings.'

‘Did you ever carve that shoulder blade?' her father asked her. ‘The one you found at Stiklestad.'

Solveig shook her head. ‘Not yet. I've carried it all the way here, and sometimes it sings to me.'

Halfdan smiled.

‘Turpin, he was the Swedish fur trader … I reminded him of his dead daughter. He thought I was asleep but I heard him saying, “What father can bear the loss of his daughter? Part of him is lost with her, and as long as he lives he goes on searching for her.”'

Halfdan murmured in agreement.

‘But I haven't even told you yet,' said Solveig, ‘and I've been longing to. The helmsman on Red Ottar's boat remembered you. “Big man. Clumsy. He had a limp.” The moment Torsten said that, my breath grew jerky, my eyeballs burned.'

‘Torsten!' exclaimed Halfdan. ‘Bright blue eyes.'

‘He said you told him all about my mother, and Asta, and our farm, and Harald Sigurdsson. How we sheltered him, and how you were sailing to join him.'

‘I did, yes,' said Halfdan. ‘We were holed up in Ladoga for two days. Plenty of time to talk.'

‘And you told him how … most of all …' Solveig faltered.

‘How, most of all, I was missing you,' declared Halfdan. ‘I did. And I was.'

Solveig gazed at him and nodded seriously. ‘Torsten was like my ship-father,' she said. ‘On Red Ottar's boat, he watched over me. He counselled me.'

‘I'm glad to hear it, replied Halfdan. ‘When a girl is fatherless, many other men are ready to half-father her.'

‘Or take advantage of her,' said Solveig with a cheerful smile.

Halfdan gave his daughter an examining stare.

‘No,' Solveig reassured him, ‘they didn't! Many people were generous and expected nothing in return. Oleg, the master-carver, in Ladoga, he gave me this.'

Solveig tugged at the piece of cord around her neck and held up the glass bead suspended from it.

‘The same colours as your eyes.'

‘My third eye. That's what Oleg called it.'

‘And he gave it to you?'

‘Twice!' exclaimed Solveig. ‘I'll explain why some time.'

‘Solva,' said Halfdan, ‘is there anything you were ashamed of?'

‘Oh yes!' Solveig replied at once. ‘Not giving anything to the lepers in the leper-boat. After they had gone, nightmares galloped through me.' Solveig clutched herself. ‘Yes, and I never honoured my deal with Red Ottar. Not really. And not telling poor Vigot my true feelings when we had to leave him behind in Kiev. And …'

‘And, and, and …' said Halfdan, smiling. ‘So what are you proud of?'

‘That's easy,' Solveig replied. She stared at her father with a stony face. ‘Bergdis was the Angel of Death, and after Red Ottar died she was going to cut Edith's throat and lay her alongside him on the funeral pyre. Because Edith was his slave-girl. No one spoke up for her because they were all so afraid of Bergdis.'

‘And you did?'

‘She was wearing a bracelet of bones,' Solveig went on. ‘And she commanded all my companions to gag me. All the men. I rounded on them. “Edith's innocent,” I told them. “And she's carrying Red Ottar's child. What matters to the gods is the good and bad he did in his life. How can Edith's death help Red Ottar? How can it?”'

Solveig realised she was talking more and more loudly, but Halfdan didn't try to stop her. ‘Bergdis was going to strangle her, and cut her throat and …'

Halfdan laid a firm hand on Solveig's arm.

‘She was!' Solveig looked wildly at her father. ‘Edwin! Edwin stopped her.'

Halfdan took Solveig into his arms, and there and then, in the open concourse, he embraced her. He did not let her go until she had stopped shaking.

‘So, girl,' said Halfdan, ‘your journey's over. The first part, anyhow. But … there's still an open wound?'

‘You know there is,' Solveig said huskily. ‘You're going away again.'

Halfdan nodded. ‘I will come back. I will.'

‘A whole year,' said Solveig. ‘Two years …'

‘You were right,' Halfdan said, ‘when you said that the young woman standing in front of me wasn't the same as the girl I left behind in Norway.'

‘She isn't but she is,' Solveig replied.

‘There is much more to say,' Halfdan replied. ‘What made you heartsick? What was your greatest surprise? Your greatest wonder? Who would you be most glad to meet again? But I won't ask you now.'

‘My greatest treasure,' Solveig told him, ‘is what I found inside my own head and heart.'

‘What was that?'

‘Little children believe that their fathers and mothers are gods. They obey their commands. They worship them. They know their parents know everything.'

Halfdan pursed his chapped lips.

Solveig took her father's arm. ‘I found my treasure by asking questions. In Hagia Sophia, at the end of my journey, I questioned myself. I questioned my love for you.'

Halfdan frowned.

‘And my head and heart answered me. Little children worship their parents blindly. They are born of the same blood, and they cleave to them, but they do not love them. Standing there, in the gallery, gazing at you, I
questioned why I loved you. Yes, I'm your daughter, I'm born of your blood, but why … why should I love you?'

Halfdan stared at his daughter, unblinking.

‘Because you're a man,' Solveig told him. ‘You're strong and yet weak. You're weak but very strong. Not a god but a man. You've taken right turnings and wrong turnings. You told King Yaroslav you had one grief you would regret all your life … Leaving me behind.'

Halfdan swallowed and nodded.

‘But that wrong turning … that only made me love you all the more,' cried Solveig. And then she leaned into her father, put an arm round his bulky waist and gave a loud sigh.

For some while the two of them stood in the shadow of a huge column made of three bronze serpents with their bodies twined around each other.

‘Look!' said Halfdan. ‘Can you see how their heads are splaying in three directions? They're spewing venom at anyone who attacks Miklagard.'

Solveig tilted back her head and screwed up her eyes. ‘The light's so bright here,' she said.

‘This column's Greek and it's more than one thousand years old,' her father explained. ‘Snorri told me it was shipped here by Constantine.'

‘Who?'

‘Constantine. He founded this city – and he built the palace where your quarters are. Solveig, at least you'll be safe there. And Maria, she'll be a good companion.'

‘She's so unhappy,' Solveig said.

‘You must thank Harald, you know.'

‘Maria …' Solveig half-smiled. ‘I think she's taking aim at him.'

‘Ah!' Halfdan exclaimed. ‘Here he is! Your almost-brother.'

‘Oh!' exclaimed Solveig. She swept back her hair and smoothed it. Then she moistened her lips.

Harald Sigurdsson stalked towards them.

‘I know that look,' said Halfdan. ‘Beware!'

‘Halfdan!' bawled Harald. ‘You! Solveig!'

Solveig and Halfdan stepped towards him.

Harald Sigurdsson scowled at them. He bared his teeth, then he roared like a lion.

Passers-by swerved out of the way. Everyone sitting on the stone steps, gossiping or simply dozing, turned their head to see what was happening.

‘I've been looking for you,' growled Harald. ‘Snorri's just told me what the Empress said to him.'

Halfdan frowned. ‘What? What did she say?'

‘“Harald would never dare to defy me. He owes his position and all he is … he owes his whole self to me.”'

Harald Sigurdsson rounded on Solveig. ‘Is that right?' he demanded. ‘Is that what she said?'

Solveig nodded.

‘“He owes his whole self to me,”' Harald repeated, mocking the clipped way in which the Empress spoke. ‘“He does as I say.”'

Again he glared at Solveig, and again Solveig nodded.

‘Is that what she thinks?' demanded Harald in a cold, biting voice. And, for a second time, he roared to heaven. Then he jerked back his head and horse-laughed.

Harald slapped Halfdan on his right shoulder. ‘I know who my friends are,' he asserted. ‘And I know when to repay them. Loyalty breeds loyalty.'

Then Harald gazed at Solveig and his pale blue eyes glittered. ‘The Empress can hang herself,' he proclaimed. ‘You're coming with us. Yes, Solveig, when your father and I set sail for Sicily, you're coming too!'

5

S
olveig hastened back to the guardroom between Harald Sigurdsson and her limping father, and there Harald told his two most trusty companions, Snorri and Skarp, of his decision.

‘Keep it to yourselves,' he warned them. ‘No one else needs to know yet.'

The two guards yelped and smacked each other's hands when they heard of their leader's defiance.

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