Next year Thuning the Finnfarer came to him. This was a Norseman from the Westfjord, up beyond the land of the Niderings. Though a chieftain with holdings in the Lofoten Islands and the nearby mainland, in those bleak parts he had few folk under him, mostly fishers. He had taken to trade, sailing north around the end of Finnmark and onward. From there he freighted walrus leather, ivory, furs, and thralls to marts in southerly shires. When he must fight, he handily won. Otherwise he worked shrewdly and learned deeply.

To Uffi he said, “I can take King Hadding out of his days if you will lend me what I need.”

“What is that?” asked Uffi.

“A fleet of ships for hundreds of men, with crews and outfits for a long voyage. If any Swedish warriors would like to come along, they’ll be welcome, but mainly I’ll raise my own host. I’ll bring you Hadding’s head, or at least news of his downfall. I’ll bring plunder as well, reaved in Denmark when he is no more. And you will give me your Arnborg.”

Uffi looked at him. Thuning was a sturdy man, but fat and not overly clean. Lice could be seen hopping in the thin strands of his hair. His beard fell matted from his jowls down his chest. A sour smell hung around him. The girl would not be glad if he won her. However, he promised an end to Hadding.

“Where will your men come from?” Uffi asked.

“From among the Bjarmians, who dwell along the White Sea,” Thuning said. “Their tribes are poor and wild, but fearless. I’ve gotten to know them well, and can tell you that they’ll flock to me. Iron tools and weapons are worth more to them than gold, so you and I will take our share of my loot in costlier things.”

Uffi frowned. “We’ve long laid toll on Finns like those, because we have better arms and more skill in their use.”

“True. Yet I can bring more fighters against Hadding than he’ll reckon on, if you’ll lend me the ships to carry them.”

Uffi nodded. “Yes, he won’t likely hear osier than that some kind of fleet is bound his way, and think he can drive it off with his housecarles and neighborhood levies.” His frown became a scowl. “However many your followers, he may well be right, too. Man for man, his warriors will be better. And uncanny powers seem to hover about him.”

“I know,” said Thuning: “But you must have heard, lord, that the Bjarmians breed warlocks more cunning than even among other Finns. Often have I bought a bag of favoring winds from one. And I have seen greater works done yonder, fruitful or frightful. Help me as I wish, and I will set black witchcraft against his luck. It will overwhelm him.”

XXIII