butcher each other on their lord’s command. Have you ever seen a battle?”
“Nay, my lord.”
“Nor have I. It must be a wonder.”
“I do not wish to see wondrous death, or glorious death, or any other manner of death, my lord. Not today, nor on any day soon to come.”
“You fret like an old woman,” he said. “We shall not take to the field, you and I, to witness the battle close at hand. We shall stand on a high ground and watch my noble father lead the slaughter of the treacherous Gustavus.”
“As you say, my lord.”
“Do not be concerned. We shall be back in Copenhagen come Christmas.”
In the afternoon, the ships tacked into the wind and made for land. The king came up on deck, shoving sailors and soldiers aside as he made his way to the bow and climbed up onto the castle. He raised his fists and roared at the city of Aalborg, ten miles inland and invisible from the coast. The air quaked with the king’s anger. He turned about and stormed back to his cabin below.
“The lion of Zealand is aroused,” Christian said. “I am sure Gustavus could hear my father’s battle cry even from here and will sleep poorly this night.”
Our war fleet landed along the coast, well south of Aalborg’s harbor. Waiting for us on the shore were soldiers from Jutland who remained loyal to the king. The leader of these men pointed to a great rolling mass of smoke that rose from the plain directly west of us.
“That is the town of Skorping,” he said. “The citizens refused to welcome Gustavus’s allies and their troops. It is now burning. The whole town.”
“We will cure my cousin and his friends of their reckless disloyalty,” the king said, and mounted his horse to lead the army inland over the low, snowy hills. The prince rode beside his father and I rode in a cart with the surgeon and the priest.
We arrived at the loyalists’ camp as the sun was setting. Within an hour, the king’s army had established a sprawling town of tents, fires, men, and horses on the southern shore of Madum Sø, a great oval lake that froze solid in winter. The fires of the enemy camp burned across the ice. So many armed men, I thought, gathered here to die for no purpose but the pride of their lords. It was madness, but this madness would end soon. Mars in Aries with Jupiter descending; the king’s defeat was certain.
Prince Christian went off with his father and I made my way to the soldier’s mess, a circle of rough tables surrounding a great fire pit. I ate some roast venison and drank a stoup of wine. The army of Denmark was well fed, and there was drink for every man at arms. I found the tent that was set aside for the prince, which he had offered to share with me. Christian was not there and I spent the next hour casting his father’s horoscope again. Just as I had seen the day before, the king’s synodical lunations did not favor him. Jupiter was going to be a most ill influence over the coming events. I fed my scribbled calculations into the stove and crawled under a pile of blankets to sleep.
In the morning, I accompanied the king, his generals, and his advisors out onto the frozen lake to meet with the Earl of Jutland and his band of traitors. Everything was layered in ice, snow, and frost. The sky hung low and smoke from the campfires rose straight up like spears of ebony to pierce the heavens. My feet slipped on the ice and twice I fell during our advance across the lake. No other man stumbled, nor did even Prince Christian pause while I climbed to my feet after each fall, scuttling after to catch up.
“Will you parlay with Gustavus?” It was the king’s brother, Prince Frederik, who asked this. Frederik’s armor was ornate, beautifully wrought and entirely decorative. He wore it only during ceremonial occasions and parades when he was forced to stand with the knights of the realm.
“Words are for women,” the king said. “War is the use of arms. Talk is pointless now. I need to fight.”
Gustavus’s party met us at the center of the lake, facing us over an invisible line in the ice. My gloves were not good enough for the weather and I hoped the polite formalities of war would go quickly, so that I