KING HAKON THE GOOD.
In Throndheim this summer sat the young king Hakon, newly come from the
West country where he had wintered. He had been well received by the
Throndheimers, for he promised them to get back all those rights which
his father Harald Fairhair had taken away threescore winters ago: and
over and above that he was a handsome lad and well spoken, every inch a
king. Earl Sigurd of Ladir, the lord of the Throndheim country-side, was
his great friend, and managed matters for him; so that he came peaceably
into the power, when his brother Eric Bloodaxe was once driven out, and
away to England. “He was the blithest of all men, and the sweetest spoken
and the kindest,” say the stories: “and he was a very wise man, and set
forth the laws of the people with the help of their wisest men; and in
his time there was good peace amidst bonders and chapman, so that none
did hurt to other, nor to other’s wealth, and plenteous were the seasons
both by land and sea.”
So when our lads came over the sea straight from Iceland to Throndheim,
they found king Hakon there, and went before him. He was big and strong,
and very fair to look on, with long curling hair: and he was only of the
age of sixteen winters, being a little older than Thorstein Sweinson and
somewhat younger than Hundi.
He asked them many things of their voyage, and where they came from,
and whither bound. And when they had told all their story and said they
settled to go to England, and maybe to see London town, “Then,” said he,
“you will go to my home: for it was but last year that I came thence: and
ever since I can remember anything I have been bred up there. I reckon it
the best of all places, and would gladly live and die there, for the sake
of king Athelstan my foster-father.”
“King,” said earl Sigurd, “that is bad hearing for us Throndheimers, and
for all thy people of Norway.”
“Nay, good friend,” answered Hakon, “thou art hasty. For my mind was to
say that I would fain be in England if I were not called hither by the
best friends I have.”
King Hakon bade the lads to supper in his hall; and afterwards, when they
were beginning to drink their cups to Thor and the gods, came a page to
Hundi and Thorstein where they sat, and said, “Guests, if you have drunk
enough, there is one would speak to you without.”
So they followed him, and came into an orchard; and under the apple trees
they found the young king walking alone in the sunset.
“Welcome, friends,” said he. “I owe you thanks.”
“Thanks, king?” said they.
“Aye: for maybe you had rather sit at table with earls and famous men,
drinking to the gods, than walk here with such as me?”
They said that they were glad to walk with him, and thought it no loss
to leave their drinking. “Hush,” said he, “say nothing over loud; for
here in Norway folk must do as folk do. Maybe where you come from, the
gods are honoured with drinking after supper, and with sacrifices at the
Thing, and so forth?”
They said it was so, among most: “But,” said Thorstein, “though I know
not if thou, king, wilt take it in good part, many of us are no great
sticklers for the old faith, and some of us—”
“What?” said the young king eagerly, but in a whisper, and looking round
to see that none were by. “What, lad?”
“I was but saying that some of us think maybe he they call White Christ
is a stronger god after all than old Redbeard and the rest of them.”
“And thou?” said Hakon, looking earnestly at him.
“King,” said Thorstein, “my father was a prime-signed man, and often
has he told us the story of King Athelstan and his priest, and the good
words they gave him, and how his own mind was one day to forsake the
sacrifices. But he was a Godi among his neighbours, and it was not easy
to be open about it, and then he died in battle.”
The young king looked at him sorrowfully, and thought awhile. “It was not
easy to be open about it,” said he, “—and he died in battle. Where, think
you, is he now?”
“Nay, king, who can tell? He was a good neighbour, and gave every one his
due, and died like a brave man.”
“Ah, but,” said Hakon, leaning back against the tree, “I have heard from
a book they have in England, Whoso denieth me before men, him will I
deny. That was what the Christ said. Oh lads, it is an awful word. It
comes to me in the night as I lie awake: and then I sleep and seem to
hear one saying to me, Hakon, I died for thee: what wilt thou do for
me in all this realm of Norway that I have given thee? And then I have
spoken to earl Sigurd, and he was angry with me, and bade me hold my
peace, or lose everything. Oh, it is hard to be open about it, and yet—”
“King,” said Thorstein, “I am but a youngster, and I have never heard
sayings spoken out of books, nor even talked with a mass-priest. But I
have a dear friend, and she had a cross that she prayed to: and one day
she sold the cross for my sake when I was in danger. And when I asked
her how she would pray, seeing she had no cross to pray to, she said that
there was an old man whom she had seen after she had sold it, who bade
her take comfort, for, said he, the God of the Christians, they call him
the Lord, looketh at the heart. These were the words.”
“Aye,” said Hakon, “that is in the book.”
“Is it?” said Thorstein. “Well, king, and if thy heart is with that Lord,
is not all right?”
The lad Hakon took the lad Thorstein in his arms, and kissed his cheek.
“Brother,” he said, “I brought you lads here to preach to you, and you
have preached to me a better word than any since I was taken away from
home to be a stranger among my own people, and an outcast from all kindly
Christian men among the heathen. You have preached to me; will you pray
with me?”
They understood nothing of what he said: but he knelt in the twilight
on the grass, hidden among the orchard trees, while the shouting of the
Bragi-cup was heard from the windows of the hall. They knelt beside him,
and he said in a low voice, and as if sobbing, the Lord’s Prayer.
Then he stood up radiant and joyful. “Brothers,” he said, “stay by me
here, and help me. I will give you all your heart can wish, only stay and
help me in this terrible loneliness. We together will win the realm for
the Christ; or, if we must, die like the blessed saints and martyrs, and
go to be with him in heaven.”
Thorstein looked at the beautiful face, aglow with earnestness.
“King,” he said, “I will slay thy foes for thee, and spend my heart’s
blood for thee. And I will take thy faith, and break Thor down from the
temple yonder, if thou wilt.”
“Hush, dear lad,” said Hakon, suddenly bethinking himself, and looking
round with the old fear: “Hush, not yet. Oh, it is hard to know what to
do. And there is no one to tell me. We must be gentle with them, and win
them one by one: we must speak to them the words of life, and pray for
them, and teach them.”
Thorstein shook his head. “I could fight them, or some of them,” said he.
“But as to words of life, king, if they be the teaching of priests, I
know nothing, for I am not even prime-signed.”
“Ah, I forgot,” said Hakon. “I am hasty. But you will not betray me. I
thank you for your good will, and I love you for your good words: but it
is other help I need. You are going to England, lucky lads. Do an errand
for me.”
They said they would do anything for him.
“Then go to Bishop Aelfheah at Winchester; and tell him that his son
Hakon remembers his teaching, and that he has sent two brothers of his to
be christened. Take this token” (and he gave them a little cross which
he drew out from his bosom) “and he will receive you. And then, if your
mind is to come hither again, think of me and the work I have to do.
Again and again I thank you. Come to-morrow; but not a word to any soul
of our speech together, if you love me.”
They went to their quarters for the night, and though they saw the king
again it was only when others were by. In a few days came some of the
king’s men with a rare gift for them, and a message bidding them take the
fair wind before it fell. So they made ready and sailed out of Throndheim
firth, and down the coast: and when they had coasted Norway they stood
out West over sea and sailed for England.