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CHAPTER SIX

HOW THEY ROWED TO THE DNIEPER

THEY rounded the tip of Gotland, headed eastwards, past the island of Ösel, and entered the mouth of the river Dvina. This river formed the beginning of the low road to Miklagard, which was that most used by Gothlanders. The high road, which the Swedes favored, went along the coast of the Dead Land,1 up the Vodor River to Ladoga, and thence through Novgorod to the Dnieper.

“Which is the better road no man has yet decided,” said Spof. “I myself cannot say, though I have traveled them both. For the labor of rowing against the current always makes the road one has chosen seem the worse, whichever that may be. But it is lucky for us that we are starting late and so will miss the spring tide.”

The men were in good heart as they entered the river, though they knew there was hard rowing ahead of them. After Orm had arranged matters so that each man should row for three days and rest for one, they proceeded upstream through the country of the Livonians and that of the Semgalls, occasionally passing small fishing villages sited on the banks, and beyond into a land deserted of men, with nothing to see save the river stretching away behind them and dense forest hugging them endlessly on both sides. The men felt awed by this country; and sometimes, when they had gone ashore for the night and were sitting around their fires, they heard a distant roaring that was like the voice of no animal they knew, and murmured to one another that this might, perhaps, be the Iron Forest, which the ancients spoke of, where Loki’s2 progeny still roamed the earth.

One day they met three ships moving down the river abreast, heavily laden and well manned, though with only six pairs of oars out to each ship. They were Gothlanders, on their way home. The men were lean and burned black by the sun, and they glanced curiously at Orm’s ship as it approached them. Some of them recognized Spof and shouted greetings to him; and words were flung across from ship to ship as they glided slowly past. They had come from Great Bulgaria, on the river Volga, and had rowed down the river to the Salt Sea,3 where they had traded with the Arabs. They were carrying a good cargo home, they said: fabrics, silver bowls, slave-girls, wine, and pepper; and three men in the second ship held up a naked young woman and dangled her over the side by her arms and hair, crying that she was for sale for twelve marks between friends. The woman shrieked and struggled, fearful lest she should fall into the water, and Orm’s men drew deep breaths at the sight of her; but when, nobody having made an offer, the men drew her in again, she screamed foul words and thrust her tongue out at them.

The Gotland chieftains asked Orm who he was, whither he was heading, and what cargo he had aboard.

“I am no merchant,” replied Orm. “I am going to Kiev to claim an inheritance.”

“It must be a great inheritance if it is worth the labor of such a voyage,” said the Gothlanders skeptically. “But if it is plunder you seek, seek it from others, for we always travel well prepared.”

With that the ships passed on and grew small down the river.

“That woman was not contemptible,” said Toke thoughtfully. “By her breasts, I adjudge her to be twenty at the most, though it is always difficult to be sure with a woman when she is hanging with her arms above her head. But only Gothlanders could ask twelve marks for a slave-girl, however young. None the less, I expected you, Olof, to make a bid for her.”

“I might have done,” said Olof Summerbird, “if I were not so placed as I am. But there is only one woman I long for, and I shall not forfeit my right to her maidenhood.”

Orm stood scowling darkly after the disappearing ships.

“I am surely fated to fight with Gothlanders before I die,” he said, “though I am a peaceful man. Their arrogance is great, and I am beginning to weary of always letting them have the last word.”

“Perhaps we could fight them on our way home,” said Toke, “if our other enterprise comes to nothing.”

But Spof said that if those were his intentions, Orm would have to find another helmsman, for he would not take part in any fight against his own people.

In the afternoon of the same day they had a further encounter. They heard the harsh creak of oars, and around the nearest bend there emerged a ship, rowing swiftly. They had all their oars out, and were rowing with all their strength. At the sight of Orm’s ship, they slackened their pace; the ship carried twenty-four pairs of oars, as Orm’s did, and was filled with armed men.

Orm shouted immediately to his rowers to continue strongly and steadily, and to the rest of his men to make ready for battle; and Toke, who was standing at the steering-oar, altered course so as to be able to grapple the other ship without being rammed, if there should be fighting.

“What men are you?” came the cry from the strange ship.

“Men from Skania and Smaland,” replied Orm. “And you?”

“East Gutes.”

The river was broad here, and the current weak. Toke shouted to the larboard rowers to pull, and told the starboard men to rest on their oars, so that the ship swung swiftly round toward the East Gutes until both the ships were gliding side by side downstream, so close that their oars were all but touching.

“We had you at our mercy then, if we had wished to ram you,” said Toke, pleased at the success of his maneuver. “And that even though you had the current with you. We have been in situations like this before.”

The East Gute, seeing their willingness to fight, spoke more humbly.

“Have you met Gothlanders on the river?” he asked.

“Three ships this morning,” replied Orm.

“Did you speak with them?”

“In friendliness. They were carrying a good cargo, and asked if we knew if there were any East Gutes near.”

“Did they speak of East Gutes? Were they afraid?”

“They said they found life tedious without them.”

“That is like them,” said the East Gute. “Three ships, you said? What freight have you aboard?”

“Arms and men. Is there anything you want from us?”

“If what you say is true,” said the other, “you carry the same cargo as we, and there is nothing for us to fight for. I have a suggestion to make. Come with me and let us surprise these Gothlanders. They carry booty worth winning, and we will share it like brothers.”

“What quarrel have you with them?” asked Spof.

“They have riches aboard and I have none. Is not that cause enough? The luck has been against us since we started for home. We came rich from the Volga, but the Meres were waiting for us at the portage by the weirs and ambushed us. We lost one of our ships and most of our cargo, and have no wish to return home empty-handed. Come now with me, if you are the men you look to be. Gothlanders are always worth attacking. I have heard at home that they are beginning to shoe their horses with silver shoes.”

“We have business elsewhere,” said Orm, “and urgent business at that. But I doubt not the Gothlanders will be glad to see you. Three against one is the sort of odds they like.”

“Do as you wish,” said the other sullenly. “It is as I have always heard, that Skanians are swinish bladders of men with no thought save for themselves, and never stretch out a hand to a stranger.”

“It is true that we seldom think of East Gutes except when forced to,” replied Orm. “But you have wasted our time for long enough. Farewell!”

Orm’s ship was gliding slightly behind that of the Gutes, and Toke now swung her round facing upstream. While he was swinging her, the Gute chieftain’s anger outgrew his patience, and of a sudden he flung his spear at Orm, crying as he did so: “Perhaps this will help you to remember us!”