SIGURDSSON'S LAST VACATION

CHAPTER 2

    He slowly ambled back to be with his men, whistling a tune in the glorious sunshine. The sky almost cloudless, he looked up to see the birds swooping here and there; he's almost jealous of their ability to fly freely, without a care. He noticed a fox, who stood staring at him, in its jaws is held a small rabbit that it had caught just moments before; it turned away and trotted off to find a place where he could consume its kill in peace.   

    He reached his small one-man rowing boat that he'd moored a little up the river. As he rowed down stream, he felt the warm breeze at his back, and the elation he'd not experienced before, a surrealism of sorts. A fish leaped out of the water an oar's length away from him; for a moment, he's startled. The omens are good, he thought.

     The fjords were as smooth as a millpond. The wind, such as it is, is warm and so light that oars were used all the way to their destination. His own ship, bedecked with gold leaf, so magnificent it glistened in the sun; a huge dragon at the bow is a sight that any man would remember until his dying day. The men, as they rowed, in unison, sang verses from the Song of Roland with the encouragement of Harald, their king and mentor leading the choir.

     He recited his own poems to the men on his ship; some were good and some appallingly bad. At some, the men hooted, at others they cheered. He didn't mind; he laughed along with his men. Siward, a midget, took to sitting on the stern of the boat. He's a juggler, magician and entertained the men with great feats of prestidigitation. The mood of the men is good, very good. They rowed along joyfully, looking for riches, personal fame and, for many, to find wives to add to their modest harems. To the eyes of those men on board, Solund looked beautiful. It's green, inviting, fertile; full of cormorants fishing off the rocks, with seals lying on their backs, basking on the beaches taking in the summer sun, with not a care in the world.

     "We stay to our oars, to our oars all day..." sang the Norsemen. The crews were pleased at their headway, despite the lack of a strong breeze for their sails, all singing as they made their approach, ever nearer to their landing.

     Godfrey Crovan is on shore, waiting for them. When he spied the boats he ordered hot meals to be started to feed the men as soon as they disembarked. As Harald's ship rounded the headland, Godfrey called out to Harald, but couldn't be heard. He barked orders to his men to make ready for their king's arrival. Turning once more to face the sea, he once more called to Harald's ship, as it approached the shoreline.

     "Greetings, Harald, did you have a good journey?" bellowed Godfrey, who held out his hand, grinning, to his king receive him. They grinned at each other, and as Harald waded ashore, he called back.

     "Godfrey! My old friend, I knew you would not let me down. Though we're a little tired, the journey is not too bad, though we could have done with a breeze to help us along," replied Harald, still grinning broadly. Harald is always pleased to see Godfrey, who is an enlightened personage, of many words and often mercurial, yet is intelligent and confident in every sphere.

      Harald smelt the air, then looked around at the emerging crocus high up on the grassy banks above him, then noticed, as he strolled inland, the bluebells poking their heads through the short grassy slopes that began to carpet the landscape; they looked good, he mused. He took a deep, refreshing breath of air; he is glad to have the firm feel of earth beneath his feet once more. He turned around to hear Godfrey chattering away to him. He smiled broadly, pretending he'd heard to every word.

    "I called the other officers together as I saw you round the cape, so that we could be ready for your briefing, the moment you landed sir. But first, there is hot food for you and the men. The tents are ready so the men can rest as they wish." Godfrey looked toward the ground and stuttered. "S, sir, the wine has not yet arrived."

    "Yes, it has, old man. I brought it with me. There's always a cock-up on the catering front, aye; so I brought a spare stock of my finest wine along; the men are in for a treat tonight," said Harald, laughing. "You are a good man, Godfrey. Let's get to the camp and warm our bodies and fill our stomachs; we've much to discuss." Harald put his arm around Godfrey's shoulder, and, as they walked along the path, they talked constantly until they reached the camp that's atop a small hillock. They discussed the plans late into the night, over a large fire. The wine is good, the best. The food, too, is excellent. Harald made sure he and his men ate well. They appreciated good treatment and never let them down. They returned his good generalship with hard work, excellent self-discipline, and he's proud of his men. He loved them as they loved him.