37.
37.
Oleg, reeking of honey-wine aroma from having drunk a fair amount. The information he brought might taste sweeter than anything mead could offer, but I was cautious.
"Of course, as Konungr of the Dane and the Svear, I shall always lend an ear to the voices of brothers and sisters seeking aid. For that is my duty."
When the fierce wind outside died down and the faint crackling of firewood echoed through the space, my low voice reached everyone's ears.
"However, I cannot help but ask, Jarl Oleg of Novgorod. What aid do you and your Konungr seek from me?"
At my direct question, cutting straight to the point, Oleg straightened his posture and answered with eyes far clearer than before.
"I humbly beseech you, come to Novgorod, my Konungr. This place is too far from Miklagard. It would be my wish that my brother and I be given the chance to serve you there. I am ashamed to say, but from Novgorod, we can offer no help at all to our sister in Miklagard right now...!"
Unable to give an immediate answer to such a heartfelt, earnest plea, I could only say that I understood well and would think on it.
"I know well that I have asked too much of the Konungr. I also know well that the one who stands above the Dane and the Svear, and indeed all Norsemen, cannot simply move his body on a whim. So even if you refuse our request, we shall harbor no ill thoughts. Rather, the mere fact that you have listened to my outrageous words already shows how generous a Konungr you are."
Oleg maintained his thoroughly humble demeanor to the very end as he withdrew.
After I saw him out to the door.
My stepmother and Refil, who remained in the reception room where the cold wind still beat against the windows, each lost in their own thoughts,
and I soon called for the guards and ordered them to find the people I named, though the hour was late.
What on earth were they thinking? The Rus of Novgorod?
The time had come to put our heads together.
*****
"You should go, Konungr."
Late night. The hour when good little children hasten to their beds.
In this city of the Norsemen, bereft of any particular diversions, the hour had come when everyone, save for wicked adults sneaking over walls, ought to be asleep.
Except for the unlucky warriors of the Garmr Brotherhood assigned to the night patrol, it was as if everyone in the heart of this vast city was holding their breath. There, the Konungr, who was becoming a legend in his own lifetime, and his chief retainers were gathered in one place.
Around the long table, I sat in the highest seat, the bear-fur chair, flanked by my two mothers. And beside them, seated in the closest place, Hrolf listened to the full account and that was the first thing he blurted out.
You should go— he said?
Was this a matter to be decided so easily?
Wasn't he speaking far too rashly without even thinking it through? I stared blankly at his face with that thought, and Hrolf, whose complexion had markedly improved since returning from the nearly year-long campaign, seemed to truly believe it.
If the king wants to go, he goes.
'Ah—'
Only then did I realize. This wasn't some Joseon era here.
Árós was becoming my center, indeed the center of Scandinavia, but that did not necessarily mean it was the capital.
The kings of this age, except for those of Eastern Rome and the covered ones beyond, the Muslims, all had itinerant courts.
'Itinerant court' was putting it nicely; it essentially meant there was no capital. It meant the king's movements were free. Truly, the realms of the Germanic chiefdoms in this era... it was an age where the king himself had to do the legwork.
As one could see from the cases of other Konungrs and Jarls — Halfdan of western Vestfold, or Rurik of eastern Novgorod, or the various Cynings of the island of Britain — had not my own father set out on campaign and gone to Valhalla?
For these people, it was natural for the king to move in person. The royal person must be preserved, but that did not mean he had to be confined to one place.
Was a king not, in the end, the one who leads?
So the somewhat sullen expressions of the people gathered here were understandable.
'If you want to go, just go. Why make a fuss and drag people who were sleeping well out of bed?'
There probably wasn't actually some impudent fellow thinking such a thing, but feeling a little sorry regardless, I spoke to Hrolf for no particular reason.
"Can I really leave my seat so casually? Soon we must hold the Moon Viewing Festival, and we must prepare to winter, and also prepare for any possible enemy invasion, should we not?"
At my questions, laid out point by point, those not fully awake mechanically nodded their heads, but only my two mothers and Hrolf shook theirs.
"Konungr Helgi. As you said, winter is soon upon us. Who would invade this land? The sea is not to be taken lightly. Though, it does seem to be boundlessly gentle for you in particular, my Konungr... Besides, do you not recall last year? Even with you and I absent, the people of Árós ate well, played well, and lived well."
'That was true.'
They had played so vigorously that I heard they emptied half the granaries that filled that vast space. Though that was surely the characteristic exaggeration of drunkards.
Of course, I had specifically ordered them to spend lavishly to shift the somber mood after my father's death, but I hadn't intended for them to enjoy themselves quite that much. And without me, no less.
"And do you know what the old men at the Thing talk about when they gather these days? They say that ever since you were born into this land, the harsh and long winters have vanished. The old-timers shout at the Garmr Brotherhood warriors the moment they show the slightest sign of shivering! 'In my day, we weren't like that...! Tsk... worthless lot...!' they say. Thanks to that, there have been frequent brawls between young and old in the taverns lately."
"Good heavens... but still, should the old and the young be coming to blows with one another? The words that come from a drunkard's mouth are inherently worthless, so instruct the warriors well."
"I shall do so."
Even in ancient Egypt and Babylon, they lamented that the youth of today did not listen. This was a problem that time would not resolve. I could only manage it suitably.
Anyway, listening to Hrolf made my head feel clearer. This was why I couldn't retire Hrolf. Regrettably, I would no longer take that aging warrior to the front lines. But for the boundless glory and prosperity of Árós, you would have to wear the yoke. Hrolf...! My old retainer...!
"Hmm."
My head, momentarily tangled by Oleg and Novgorod's sudden invitation, felt as if it was smoothly clearing.
Rising from my seat and heading to the window, it seemed as if the irregularly gusting wind outside had grown a little calmer.
[Creak—]
Since glass was hard to come by due to shipping issues, I opened the window, made sturdy with wood, and the stillness of the city shrouded in darkness brought a curious sense of charm.
Beneath the moonlight slowly revealing its full form, the Garmr Brotherhood moved here and there carrying bright yellow flames, surrounded by densely packed timber buildings.
Quadrangles and triangles. Single-story and two-story buildings, with water channels flowing between them. Gardens enclosing wells scattered about. Fish-drying yards, docksides, granaries, roads leading outward. And beyond that, districts hidden in the dark, beyond sight...
It was a little plain, but this city, so utterly beloved, would require ever greater skill and more refined planning if it was to be elevated to its next stage of growth.
"If you are to move beyond the Eastern Sea, I believe you should hasten somewhat, Konungr."
No sooner had I made up my mind than the quick-witted Hrólfr spoke.
"It will be easier to move if you set out before the festival. Wait much later, and the waterways may freeze over."
Indeed, the man spoke true.
"We'll select men and supplies, and set out with Oleg two days from now."
"It will be difficult to move a great many warriors."
Provisions were one thing, but a grand fleet of a hundred ships could hardly move along the winter roads either.
"I'll lead twenty longships and ten merchant ships."
"Should the expedition grow long, I shall continue sending supplies to Novgorod, provided the sea routes do not freeze. Ah, the Jarl of Gotland will be very pleased indeed."
"So be it."
I had politely declined, and yet now an eastern expedition was coming together so spontaneously. Even if its scale was smaller than expected, the breach had been opened, and the ruler of Visby would surely be satisfied. As though she had been thinking along the same lines, a small smile rose to my stepmother Áslaug's face.
"While I am away, I must leave Árós and Uppsala in Björn's hands. I hear he's been holed up at home taking a long rest these days... time he was active again, don't you think?"
"You speak rightly."
Where else did my distaste for seeing capable men idle come from? Hrólfr, who had overseen my discipline since I was young, and I exchanged wicked smiles. My stepmother Áslaug, for her part, wore a deep smile this time as well.
Halfdan's wedding was set for next summer, so I need only return before then.
Now, matters seemed more or less in order.
"Well then, let us leave it here for tonight and speak again in the morning. It is late, and I thank you all for answering my call. My thanks to both of you, my mothers, as well."
"You need not say such things."
"I have no complaint."
"We only did what was expected, Konungr Helgi!"
"Summon me at any hour!"
A kind of relief showed on the faces of my two mothers as they smiled faintly and assured me it was nothing. Perhaps the worry they had held over how their youngest son would navigate such weighty responsibilities had eased a little.
Then, with Seutorolpeu at the fore, followed by Refil, the highest judge, the dockmaster, and the foremost councilor of the Thing—all bowed their heads and began filing out the door, one after another. I felt apologetic toward those roused from sleep by the evening wind... but well, what could be done? Such was the life of a public man. Eating the state's bread was never easy work!
"Ahem— I shall take my leave as well, Helgi Konungr. I will see you in the morning."
"As always, you have my thanks, Hrólfr. Go safely."
"You need not say such things, Konungr. I am grateful that you heed our counsel, but pray do not forget that it is you, Konungr, who leads."
Hrólfr withdrew, bowing his head courteously. The pure white hairs sprouting here and there from the back of his head tugged at my eyes, and on impulse, I called out to him as he went through the door.
"Speaking of which, Hrólfr—how old has your son grown this year?"
"Ah— you speak of Hrollaugr? The lad has seen his second winter now."
"Ha. So much time already. That once wee little fellow..."
"Haha! That is how I see you, Konungr. Truly, time is swift."
"I shall personally bring back a gift for young Hrollaugr."
"If you would do so, it would be an honor to my household, Konungr."
Hrólfr turned with a smiling face.
After seeing him off, and confirming that my two mothers had retired to their own chambers, I at last entered my room and laid my body down upon the bed built through much hounding of the craftsmen.
A handcrafted bed of soft-dressed leather and a wooden frame, made plump and plush with goose and sheep's wool stuffed in great quantity.
'Hrollaugr. Hrolf. Rollo.'
Thus for a moment I listened to the small firewood popping in the portable brazier the servants had set out, and stared at a corner of the window left slightly open to draw out the smoke, at the moonlight descending softly there. My consciousness slowly sank into sleep.
I toyed with the name of Hrólfr's young son. Hrollaugr.
*****
"What? You truly mean to go?"
Oleg's eyes rounded wide. He was plainly astonished.
He must have expected me to move come spring, but I was the sort to strike like lightning once my mind was set. In other words, I was exceedingly impulsive and instinctual.
In Oleg's proposal, I had caught a scent of something, sweet beyond words. The scent called opportunity.
I repeated myself to Oleg, who was clutching his head and wondering whether he had drunk too much mead the night before and was now hearing things.
"That is right, Jarl Oleg. Let us set out two days from now."
Already Refil and Seutorolpeu were deep in selecting men. I had heard they were suffering unexpected headaches because every warrior wished to join, but in the end, the ranks would center on the newer recruits. The veterans who had fought in the last war needed a little rest; there might be physical or mental ailments they themselves did not yet know of...
Twenty fighting ships on the move meant eight hundred warriors. That was eight parts in ten of the warriors newly recruited from Árós, so further recruitment was planned for winter. With plentiful manpower, grain, and coin, swelling the army's numbers was no trouble, but this gradual expansion was the sounder way.
"Ah, I understand, Helgi Konungr! I shall make ready at once!"
At last accepting that all of this was real, Oleg cried out in a voice full of high color.
On his face, alongside light of joy, relief, and admiration, I could also sense a trace of something else—a shade of regret.
'Regret?'
Regret over what? In time, I would surely come to know.