they were in an alley where flat-roofed houses gloomed above muck and trash. There they found an inn, low-ceilinged, areek with charcoal braziers, its benches full of drinkers, a hard lot. "Hm," said Ulf, "where shall we sit?"
Harald stepped over to three who had been muttering to each other and tapped a shoulder. "I beg your pardon," he said politely, "but it's our turn for your seats."
"What?" Dark faces turned furiously up toward him . . . and up and up. Having no room in here to stand straight, he hulked as well as loomed over them. The Northerners were unarmed as law required, save for knives they had tucked under their tunics, but the hand that Harald laid around a man's neck was unfairly large.
A hush fell on the taproom, and quivered.
"Thank you so much," said Harald. He lifted the fellow with a single movement of one arm, dumped him on the floor, and took his seat. The two adjoining decided that it was not worthwhile making a fuss, and both slunk out. Elsewhere, folk eased; a few laughed.
"Wine!" roared Ulf. "And so help me Njordh, Frey, and almighty Thor, if you've watered it I'll drown you in it."
The landlord scuttled toward him, bearing a loaded tray. "Have you no goblets of a fit size?" Harald snorted. He took the nearest and drained it at a gulp. "Well, fetch us a jug and we'll pour for ourselves."
"At once, despotes," the innkeeper said. Oil dripped from every word. "May I ask who it is I have the honor of serving?"
"You may," Harald replied, "but you will get no answer." He turned to his companions and added in Norse: "I suppose my position requires I be nameless."
"It's not just easy to be nameless when you're seven feet tall and a prince of Norway," said Ulf. "Oh, well, here comes the jug. Skaal, everybody!"
Halldor clinked beakers with him. "Skaal ... to victory for us, wherever we go."
"And to us ourselves," said Ulf.
"And to the damnation of Kalf Arnason, Thori Hound, and many more," added Harald.
"Skaal to the Emperor," said Ulf loyally, not being able to think of a better pledge at the moment.
"And the Empress," leered Halldor.
The landlord hovered nigh. "Urn, uh, despotes," he whimpered, "you have not paid."
Harald scowled. "You should pay us to drink this horse piss."
"Now, now, we want no trouble," said Ulf, and belched. "You know me, Alexis. And me, I know what the going prices are. Here. As for the goblets you first brought, I think they should be on the house, inasmuch as we rid it of those rowdies."
The landlord shrugged and departed. "Where were we?" Halldor wo ndered. "Oh, aye. We were skaal ing. Here's to the early frying of John the Or phanotrophos."
Ulf grinned. "How Hell's griddle will sizzle! They've a saying here: 'If you have a eunuch, kill him; if you haven't, buy one and kill him.' "
"Ah, pity the poor devil," said Harald. "He must do something with his time, right?" He refilled his cup. "To Olaf the Stout!"
"A man indeed, from what I've heard," remarked Halldor. "I think he died young because they needed a good captain for the Heavenly armies."
Harald nodded.
"We're in grave danger of becoming serious," warned Ulf. "Here's to good King—no, Knjaz Jaroslav."
"To his daughter Ellisif," Harald said afterward. "A sweet child, and her dowry won't be small."
They skaaled Ellisif, and they skaaled Ingigerdh, and they skaaled the kings of Norway since Harald Fairhair, and they skaaled Ingolf of Vik who had first settled Iceland, and they skaaled Eirik the Red because he won Greenland and his son Leif who found a country further west where grapes grew wild, and they skaaled St. George, and they skaaled the Pope and the Patriarch both so as not to be partial, and they skaaled the good men in the tavern with them and bought a round o.f drinks, and they skaaled Sighvat the skald for his fine verses, and about that time Harald stood up and bawled forth some of the Bjarkamaal for the company, who did not understand a word but cheered anyhow, and then Halldor said he needed
J. S. Cooper, Helen Cooper