The North Star/Chapter 8
VIII
TO FIND OLAF
Earl Haakon was sojourning at Hlade, in the Trondelag. Hlade was the chief residence of the earls of whom Haakon was the descendant, and his descent from the earls of Hlade was his sole title to the overlordship of Norway. For some time after the defeat of the Jomsvikings he had held his place in security, but there were fresh rumours of Olaf Tryggevesson, whom the Norsemen claimed as the true king. Earl Haakon presided at the magnificent temple of Thor. This was in Hlade, and was one of the finest and most beautiful of the temples of the old Asa faith. Here by right of his overlordship of Norway, and as chief of the earldom of Hlade, Haakon officiated as high-priest at the sacrifice. The earl valued his pagan priesthood, for the power it gave him among the Norsemen who still clung to the worship of Odin and Thor, and because he would not be governed by the laws of Christian morality. To kill his enemy at sight, and to change his wife as the whim seized him, were privileges too dear to his pagan heart.
One day, as Earl Haakon was returning from the temple, he saw his former steward, Thore Klakka, standing in the road. “Where hast thou been so long?” the earl asked.
“Not far from thee, my Jarl. I have been out in the fiord, counting the ships. I think it is time for my journey to the Irish coast. Thou hast been so full of thy victories, and of worship of the gods, thou hast forgotten thy promise to fit me out ships to go seeking Olaf Tryggevesson. Thou hast scarcely heeded me of late. What didst thou place upon the altar to-day? Did any jarl in the Trondelag give thee a helpless, blue-eyed lad to offer up to the gods, a fair young stripling to Thor, that thou and I may ensnare Olaf into Norway? It is a perilous venture, and may need a rich sacrifice.”
Earl Haakon grew deadly pale. He clutched the broad, bronze buckle that fastened his long, blue cloak, as if he were stifling the terrible pain that rose in his heart at the memory of Erling’s fate. In a muffled tone he answered the steward: “Thou shalt have full gold, Thore, to fit out thy ships, and the gods—they will not be forgotten.”
Thore Klakka laughed. “Thy baptism to Christ the White, in thy youth, my Jarl, did not wash off thy heathen heart. Thy father, Sigurd, was a better Christian than thou art, even if old King Haakon the Good did hold thee in his arms at thy baptism and gave thee his own name. Thou hast, my Jarl, the name of the Christian overlord of Norway, who dwelt and worshipped with the Saxons in England, and brought their worship to Norway. Thou thinkest the heathens are strong, but, my Jarl, these Christians grow stronger, and we see the Sign of the White Christ full often now. Nay, the Norsemen laugh at Odin and Thor, as if our old gods were but the fancies of children.”
“They will not laugh for long,” Earl Haakon cried angrily. “Let me but find this Olaf, this viking that would give all our Norseland to his Christ! Let me but get him in my grasp, and it will be many a year before Norway sees an overlord who worships Christ.”
“Well spoken, my Jarl! Now if thou wilt lay aside the robes of sacrifice, we will further speak of this search for Olaf. I have seen some ships in the Nidaros ship-yard, that are to my liking. One I will have for myself. I shall call it the ‘Aastrid;’ and Olaf, who loves his mother so well, will be drawn to the name, and will be better minded to come with me.”
They entered Earl Haakon’s stone dwelling, where the earl laid aside his long cloak, with its richly carved bronze breastpins, and his heavy bronze belt, with buckles wrought in designs of serpents and dragons. Then they sat down, and the earl called for ale and bread. Far into the night Thore Klakka and he planned of the cruise to the Irish coast to find Olaf and bring him back to Norway.