His glance went to the purse which hung plump at Niels’ belt. Within that leather were coins of the realm, which should excite no remark. Ingeborg had gotten them from a goldsmith in town whom she likewise knew, a man ready to run his risk of the law finding him out when she would sell him a lump of precious metal at well below its true value. She and her companion bore far more wealth on them in the form of pieces sewn into their garments, but this was against unforseen need in the near future.
Her tone remained cool: “What the sum truly comes to, that’ll depend on what we can do with it-wherefore we seek your counsel. It’s trerasure trove, you see.”
Aksel stiffened. “Then it’s the Crown’s! Do you want to be hanged?”
“No, no, naught like that. Let me tell. You must remember Herr Ranild and his cog, how he left earlier in the year on a voyage that he was close-mouthed about, and has not been heard of since. Niels was a crewman, and Ranild brought me along.”
“Hoy?” The dealer recovered from his surprise. “Hm, well, folk hereabouts did wonder what had become of Cod-Ingeborg. But a woman at sea, she’s bad luck.”
“No,” Niels denied in quick anger.
Ingeborg gestured him to keep still and went on: “He was
shorthanded and in haste. I could be useful.”
“Yes,” Aksel snickered. Niels glared at him.
Ingeborg kept her head aloft. “Besides,” she said, “word had
come to me, as word of this or that often does. Put together with what Ranild heard in different wise, it pointed at a treasure to be gotten, out of a heathen burial in a midocean place. Thus, no robbery, no sacrilege, no withholding of anybody’s due.
“Gold awakened greed, though, and led to killing. You recall what ruffians those were, save for Niels. Afterward a terrible storm smote. The upshot was that only we two are left alive of the souls who fared forth upon Berning, and the ship is lost. But we brought certain metal ashore, and now we mean to have the good of it.”
Silence fell, until Aksel snapped. “Is this true?”
“I’ll swear to you by every saint, or whatever oath you wish,
that each last word is true,” Ingeborg said. “So will Niels.”
The youth nodded violently.
“Hm, hm.” Again Aksel tugged his greasy hair. “You’ve spun
me half a thread of your yarn.”
“I told you we would. The reasons why need not trouble you.”
Ingeborg grinned. “What did you ever tell your wife about me?”
She grew earnest again, tautened still more, and urged, “You stand to gain much for slight effort and no hazard. We seek not to overstep the law. Rather, we want guidance to keep us within it. At the same time, it’d be foolish to blab, when a mighty man can always find some pretext to strip us bare.”
“Ye-e-es,” Aksel agreed. “you’re clever to see from the outset that you need a patron, who’ll shield you and get you into a trade where you can prosper quietly.” He frowned at the ring, which he turned over and over on the table before him.
“The Hansa,” Niels blurted. “Their ships carry most cargoes
throughout the North, don’t they? I hear how the cities of the
League grow ever greater-kings fear them—Could I become
a shipowner of theirs-“
Aksel shook his head. “Scant hope there, lad. I know them well. They’re grasping devils, jealous of what they have, un-friendly to outsiders, chary of aught that might upset by the least bit the power of a magnate or a guild. For instance, Visby on the island of Gotland, Visby grants broad freedoms to merchants, but only if they’re Gotlander born. I think if you went to one of those uncrowned princes, he’d just lead you on till he saw how to get you wrung dry, and belike me into the bargain.”
Niels flinched. Ingebor~ laid a hand over his. “There must be somewhere to go!” he protested.
“Maybe, maybe,” Aksel said. “You’ve caught me off guard. Let me think-“ He set the ring twirling on the table. Its whiff seemed unnaturally loud. “Um-m-m.. . Copenhagen. . . big seaport, enfeoffed to the bishop of Roskilde, who lets no guilds take root there. . . aye, each burgher pursues his trade under license of his own from the city authorities. . . . Maybe. I know hardly anything more, for little of my stock goes that way.”