Hakon of Rogen's Saga

10

10 WINTER came late that year. It arrived at the time of the Midwinter Feast and, like a hungry guest, it did not like to depart. We learned that year that the bark of trees could be eaten, and there was no animal — no matter how small— that was not hunted. We grew gaunt and our bellies swelled, and the least bit of work made us tired. Seven people died that winter, and we were hardly able to dig their graves. How I survived, who had been sick all fall, must have been by the grace of the gods. Rark had fed me seaweed, which the others had refused to eat. But I think there must have been magic in it, for, in spring when so many were sick, Rark and I were not. Maybe this is the food of the God of Fishes. Some say that there is a god who has a castle on the bottom of the sea — so far down that the light of the sun doesn't reach it. Finally spring came, and the sound of a thousand streams were heard again on Rogen. Nature rose from its winter bed and the song of tomorrow began. Each little blade popping up from the ground declared that it soon would be a flower. Even the gulls sang of love, though their voices did not grow any sweeter from it. 64 Spring green, tender green, stood on the sides of Thor's Mountain, and all the bushes and shrubtrees were sapswelled , bending complacently to the southern winds and saying, "We knew you would come. We knew you would come." Most of the human beings on Rogen were too weak to welcome spring. They had gone past hope and despair, and the newborn sun found their eyes a poor place for reflecting its strength. Thanks to Rark, I felt much better than the others, and the coming warmth made me more determined than ever to escape. If we were not able to flee that summer, we would have to spend another winter on Rogen. And would I survive that long? My Uncle Sigurd's face was not a pleasant place to read my future. So many foul deeds had my uncle committed that my murder would not weigh heavily on his conscience. At present I felt safe, for the battle of survival was not won, and a hungry man thinks more about food than revenge. Of animals, only two horses — my father 's mare and a stallion — had survived our hunger. As soon as the ice on the fjords in Norway had broken and floated out to sea, my uncle set sail for a village called Odin's Cove. Rark and I were ordered to sail with him. It took us five days to reach Odin's Cove — although it was common to do the trip in two — because we were only fourteen men and we could not row the big boat againstthe waves. The chieftain of the village, a man named Lief the Lonesome, gave us a friendly welcome. Lief was the only surviving son of Bjorn the Tall, who had been 65 famous for his ability with a sword and for his quick temper. Lief was a peaceful man, having learned from the example of his father that the sword is a poor judge of a grievance. My uncle bought three pigs, two calves, and a young bull, beside ten yearling sheep and four cows. He paid for the livestock with two gold rings and some silver armbands. I noticed that one of the rings was one he used to wear on his finger, but the others I had never seen before. I realized that they must have constituted part of his private treasure, and recalled with bitterness how the invadershad stripped my father's hall. We did not stay more than a few days in Odin's Cove. On the second day, we feasted on one of the pigs that my uncle had bought. This was the first time in many months that any of us had had as much to eat as he wanted. Several of the men were too greedy, and they paid for their greed with a painful night. For Rark the voyage was an ordeal. My uncle tied him to the mast while we were in Odin's Cove. The men grumbled about it, for most of them liked...