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Eric Brighteyes
By
H. Rider Haggard
Contents
I -
HOW ASMUND THE PRIEST FOUND GROA THE WITCH..
II -
HOW ERIC TOLD HIS LOVE TO GUDRUDA IN THE SNOW ON COLDBACK
III
- HOW ASMUND BADE ERIC TO HIS YULE-FEAST.
IV -
HOW ERIC CAME DOWN GOLDEN FALLS
V -
HOW ERIC WON THE SWORD WHITEFIRE.
VI -
HOW ASMUND THE PRIEST WAS BETROTHED TO UNNA..
VII
- HOW ERIC WENT UP MOSFELL AGAINST SKALLAGRIM THE BARESARK
VIII
- HOW OSPAKAR BLACKTOOTH FOUND ERIC BRIGHTEYES AND SKALLAGRIM LAMBSTAIL ON
HORSE-HEAD HEIGHTS
IX -
HOW SWANHILD DEALT WITH GUDRUDA
X -
HOW ASMUND SPOKE WITH SWANHILD
XI -
HOW SWANHILD BID FAREWELL TO ERIC.
XII
- HOW ERIC WAS OUTLAWED AND SAILED A-VIKING..
XIII
- HOW HALL THE MATE CUT THE GRAPNEL CHAIN..
XIV
- HOW ERIC DREAMED A DREAM
XV -
HOW ERIC DWELT IN LONDON TOWN
XVI
- HOW SWANHILD WALKED THE SEAS
XVII
- HOW ASMUND THE PRIEST WEDDED UNNA, THOROD'S DAUGHTER.
XVIII
- HOW EARL ATLI FOUND ERIC AND SKALLAGRIM ON THE SOUTHERN ROCKS OF STRAUMEY
ISLE <=
!--[if supportFields]> =
XIX
- HOW KOLL THE HALF-WITTED BROUGHT TIDINGS FROM ICELAND..
XXI
- HOW HALL OF LITHDALE TOOK TIDINGS TO ICELAND..
XXII
- HOW ERIC CAME HOME AGAIN
XXIII
- HOW ERIC WAS A GUEST AT THE WEDDING-FEAST OF GUDRUDA THE FAIR
XXVI
- HOW ERIC VENTURED DOWN TO MIDDALHOF AND WHAT HE FOUND..
XXVII
- HOW GUDRUDA WENT UP TO MOSFELL.
XXVIII
- HOW SWANHILD WON TIDINGS OF ERIC.
XXIX
- HOW WENT THE BRIDAL NIGHT
XXXI
- HOW ERIC SENT AWAY HIS MEN FROM MOSFELL.
XXXII
- HOW ERIC AND SKALLAGRIM GREW FEY.
XXXIII
- HOW ERIC AND SKALLAGRIM FOUGHT THEIR LAST GREAT FIGHT.
Madam,
You have gracious=
ly
conveyed to me the intelligence that during the weary weeks spent far from =
his
home--in alternate hope and fear, in suffering and mortal trial--a Prince w=
hose
memory all men must reverence, the Emperor Frederick, found pleasure in the
reading of my stories: that "they interested and fascinated him."=
While the world w=
as
watching daily at the bedside of your Majesty's Imperial husband, while many
were endeavouring to learn courage in our supremest need from the spectacle=
of
that heroic patience, a distant writer little knew that it had been his for=
tune
to bring to such a sufferer an hour's forgetfulness of sorrow and pain.
This knowledge, t=
o an
author, is far dearer than any praise, and it is in gratitude that, with yo=
ur
Majesty's permission, I venture to dedicate to you the tale of Eric Brighte=
yes.
The late Emperor,=
at
heart a lover of peace, though by duty a soldier of soldiers, might perhaps
have cared to interest himself in a warrior of long ago, a hero of our Nort=
hern
stock, whose days were spent in strife, and whose latest desire was Rest. B=
ut
it may not be; like the Golden Eric of this Saga, and after a nobler fashio=
n,
he has passed through the Hundred Gates into the Valhalla of Renown.
To you, then, Mad=
am,
I dedicate this book, a token, however slight and unworthy, of profound res=
pect
and sympathy.
I am, Madam,
Your Majesty's mo=
st
obedient servant,
H. Rider Haggard.=
November 17, 1889=
.
To H.I.M. Victori=
a,
Empress Frederick of Germany.
"Eric
Brighteyes" is a romance founded on the Icelandic Sagas. "What is=
a
saga?" "Is it a fable or a true story?" The answer is not
altogether simple. For such sagas as those of Burnt Njal and Grettir the St=
rong
partake both of truth and fiction: historians dispute as to the proportions.
This was the manner of the saga's growth: In the early days of the Iceland
community--that republic of aristocrats--say, between the dates 900 and 110=
0 of
our era, a quarrel would arise between two great families. As in the case of
the Njal Saga, its cause, probably, was the ill doings of some noble woman.
This quarrel would lead to manslaughter. Then blood called for blood, and a
vendetta was set on foot that ended only with the death by violence of a
majority of the actors in the drama and of large numbers of their adherents=
. In
the course of the feud, men of heroic strength and mould would come to the
front and perform deeds worthy of the iron age which bore them. Women also
would help to fashion the tale, for good or ill, according to their natural
gifts and characters. At last the tragedy was covered up by death and time,=
leaving
only a few dinted shields and haunted cairns to tell of those who had played
its leading parts.
But its fame live=
d on
in the minds of men. From generation to generation skalds wandered through =
the
winter snows, much as Homer may have wandered in his day across the Grecian
vales and mountains, to find a welcome at every stead, because of the old-t=
ime
story they had to tell. Here, night after night, they would sit in the ingle
and while away the weariness of the dayless dark with histories of the times
when men carried their lives in their hands, and thought them well lost if
there might be a song in the ears of folk to come. To alter the tale was on=
e of
the greatest of crimes: the skald must repeat it as it came to him; but by
degrees undoubtedly the sagas did suffer alteration. The facts remained the
same indeed, but around them gathered a mist of miraculous occurrences and
legends. To take a single instance: the account of the burning of
Bergthorsknoll in the Njal Saga is not only a piece of descriptive writing =
that
for vivid, simple force and insight is scarcely to be matched out of Homer =
and
the Bible, it is also obviously true. We feel as we read, that no man could
have invented that story, though some great skald threw it into shape. That=
the
tale is true, the writer of "Eric" can testify, for, saga in hand=
, he
has followed every act of the drama on its very site. There he who digs ben=
eath
the surface of the lonely mound that looks across plain and sea to Westman
Isles may still find traces of the burning, and see what appears to be the
black sand with which the hands of Bergthora and her women strewed the eart=
hen floor
some nine hundred years ago, and even the greasy and clotted remains of the
whey that they threw upon the flame to quench it. He may discover the places
where Fosi drew up his men, where Skarphedinn died, singing while his legs =
were
burnt from off him, where Kari leapt from the flaming ruin, and the dell in
which he laid down to rest--at every step, in short, the truth of the narra=
tive
becomes more obvious. And yet the tale has been added to, for, unless we may
believe that some human beings are gifted with second sight, we cannot acce=
pt
as true the prophetic vision that came to Runolf, Thorstein's son; or that =
of
Njal who, on the evening of the onslaught, like Theoclymenus in the Odyssey=
, saw
the whole board and the meats upon it "one gore of blood."
Thus, in the Norse
romance now offered to the reader, the tale of Eric and his deeds would be
true; but the dream of Asmund, the witchcraft of Swanhild, the incident of =
the
speaking head, and the visions of Eric and Skallagrim, would owe their orig=
in
to the imagination of successive generations of skalds; and, finally, in the
fifteenth or sixteenth century, the story would have been written down with=
all
its supernatural additions.
The tendency of t=
he
human mind--and more especially of the Norse mind--is to supply uncommon and
extraordinary reasons for actions and facts that are to be amply accounted =
for
by the working of natural forces. Swanhild would have needed no
"familiar" to instruct her in her evil schemes; Eric would have
wanted no love-draught to bring about his overthrow. Our common experience =
of
mankind as it is, in opposition to mankind as we fable it to be, is suffici=
ent
to teach us that the passion of one and the human weakness of the other wou=
ld
suffice to these ends. The natural magic, the beauty and inherent power of =
such
a woman as Swanhild, are things more forceful than any spell magicians have=
invented,
or any demon they are supposed to have summoned to their aid. But no saga w=
ould
be complete without the intervention of such extraneous forces: the need of
them was always felt, in order to throw up the acts of heroes and heroines,=
and
to invest their persons with an added importance. Even Homer felt this need,
and did not scruple to introduce not only second sight, but gods and goddes=
ses,
and to bring their supernatural agency to bear directly on the personages of
his chant, and that far more freely than any Norse sagaman. A word may be a=
dded
in explanation of the appearances of "familiars" in the shapes of
animals, an instance of which will be found in this story. It was believed =
in
Iceland, as now by the Finns and Eskimo, that the passions and desires of
sorcerers took visible form in such creatures as wolves or rats. These were
called "sendings," and there are many allusions to them in the Sa=
gas.
Another peculiari=
ty
that may be briefly alluded to as eminently characteristic of the Sagas is
their fatefulness. As we read we seem to hear the voice of Doom speaking
continually. " Things will happen as they are fated ": that is the
keynote of them all. The Norse mind had little belief in free will, less ev=
en
than we have to-day. Men and women were born with certain characters and
tendencies, given to them in order that their lives should run in appointed
channels, and their acts bring about an appointed end. They do not these th=
ings
of their own desire, though their desires prompt them to the deeds: they do
them because they must. The Norns, as they name Fate, have mapped out their
path long and long ago; their feet are set therein, and they must tread it =
to
the end. Such was the conclusion of our Scandinavian ancestors--a belief fo=
rced
upon them by their intense realisation of the futility of human hopes and
schemings, of the terror and the tragedy of life, the vanity of its desires,
and the untravelled gloom or sleep, dreamless or dreamfull, which lies beyo=
nd
its end.
Though the Sagas =
are
entrancing, both as examples of literature of which there is but little in =
the
world and because of their living interest, they are scarcely known to the
English-speaking public. This is easy to account for: it is hard to persuade
the nineteenth century world to interest itself in people who lived and eve=
nts
that happened a thousand years ago. Moreover, the Sagas are undoubtedly
difficult reading. The archaic nature of the work, even in a translation; t=
he
multitude of its actors; the Norse sagaman's habit of interweaving endless
side-plots, and the persistence with which he introduces the genealogy and =
adventures
of the ancestors of every unimportant character, are none of them to the ta=
ste
of the modern reader.
"Eric
Brighteyes" therefore, is clipped of these peculiarities, and, to some
extent, is cast in the form of the romance of our own day, archaisms being
avoided as much as possible. The author will be gratified should he succeed=
in
exciting interest in the troubled lives of our Norse forefathers, and still
more so if his difficult experiment brings readers to the Sagas--to the pro=
se
epics of our own race. Too ample, too prolix, too crowded with detail, they
cannot indeed vie in art with the epics of Greece; but in their pictures of
life, simple and heroic, they fall beneath no literature in the world, save=
the
Iliad and the Odyssey alone.
ERIC
BRIGHTEYES
=
I - HOW ASMUND THE PRIEST
FOUND GROA THE WITCH
There lived a man=
in
the south, before Thangbrand, Wilibald's son, preached the White Christ in
Iceland. He was named Eric Brighteyes, Thorgrimur's son, and in those days
there was no man like him for strength, beauty and daring, for in all these
things he was the first. But he was not the first in good-luck.
Two women lived in
the south, not far from where the Westman Islands stand above the sea. Gudr=
uda
the Fair was the name of the one, and Swanhild, called the Fatherless, Groa=
's
daughter, was the other. They were half-sisters, and there were none like t=
hem
in those days, for they were the fairest of all women, though they had noth=
ing
in common except their blood and hate.
Now of Eric
Brighteyes, of Gudruda the Fair and of Swanhild the Fatherless, there is a =
tale
to tell.
These two fair wo=
men
saw the light in the self-same hour. But Eric Brighteyes was their elder by
five years. The father of Eric was Thorgrimur Iron-Toe. He had been a mighty
man; but in fighting with a Baresark,[*] who fell upon him as he came up fr=
om
sowing his wheat, his foot was hewn from him, so that afterwards he went up=
on a
wooden leg shod with iron. Still, he slew the Baresark, standing on one leg=
and
leaning against a rock, and for that deed people honoured him much. Thorgri=
mur
was a wealthy yeoman, slow to wrath, just, and rich in friends. Somewhat la=
te
in life he took to wife Saevuna, Thorod's daughter. She was the best of wom=
en,
strong in mind and second-sighted, and she could cover herself in her hair.=
But
these two never loved each other overmuch, and they had but one child, Eric,
who was born when Saevuna was well on in years.
[*] The Baresarks were men on whom a
passing fury of battle came; t=
hey
were usually outlawed.
The father of Gud=
ruda
was Asmund Asmundson, the Priest of Middalhof. He was the wisest and the we=
althiest
of all men who lived in the south of Iceland in those days, owning many far=
ms
and, also, two ships of merchandise and one long ship of war, and having mu=
ch
money out at interest. He had won his wealth by viking's work, robbing the
English coasts, and black tales were told of his doings in his youth on the
sea, for he was a "red-hand" viking. Asmund was a handsome man, w=
ith
blue eyes and a large beard, and, moreover, was very skilled in matters of =
law.
He loved money much, and was feared of all. Still, he had many friends, for=
as
he aged he grew more kindly. He had in marriage Gudruda, the daughter of Bj=
örn,
who was very sweet and kindly of nature, so that they called her Gudruda the
Gentle. Of this marriage there were two children, Björn and Gudruda the Fai=
r;
but Björn grew up like his father in youth, strong and hard, and greedy of
gain, while, except for her wonderful beauty, Gudruda was her mother's child
alone.
The mother of
Swanhild the Fatherless was Groa the Witch. She was a Finn, and it is told =
of
her that the ship on which she sailed, trying to run under the lee of the
Westman Isles in a great gale from the north-east, was dashed to pieces on a
rock, and all those on board of her were caught in the net of Ran[*] and
drowned, except Groa herself, who was saved by her magic art. This at the l=
east
is true, that, as Asmund the Priest rode down by the sea-shore on the morni=
ng
after the gale, seeking for some strayed horses, he found a beautiful woman=
, who
wore a purple cloak and a great girdle of gold, seated on a rock, combing h=
er
black hair and singing the while; and, at her feet, washing to and fro in a
pool, was a dead man. He asked whence she came, and she answered:
"Out of the
Swan's Bath."
[*] The Norse god=
dess
of the sea.
Next, he asked her
where were her kin. But, pointing to the dead man, she said that this alone=
was
left of them.
"Who was the
man, then?" said Asmund the Priest.
She laughed again=
and
sang this song:--
Groa sails up from the Swan's Bath, = Death Gods grip the Dead Man's hand.= Look where lies her luckless husband= , Bolder sea-king ne'er swung sword! <= span style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'> Asmund, keep the kirtle-wearer, For last night the Norns were crying= , And Groa thought they told of thee: = Yea, told of thee and babes unborn.<= o:p>
"How knowest
thou my name?" asked Asmund.
"The sea-mews
cried it as the ship sank, thine and others--and they shall be heard in
story."
"Then that is
the best of luck," quoth Asmund; "but I think that thou art
fey."[*]
[*] I.e. subject to supernatural
presentiments, generally conne=
cted
with approaching doom.
"Ay," s=
he
answered, "fey and fair."
"True enough
thou art fair. What shall we do with this dead man?"
"Leave him in
the arms of Ran. So may all husbands lie."
They spoke no more
with her at that time, seeing that she was a witchwoman. But Asmund took he=
r up
to Middalhof, and gave her a farm, and she lived there alone, and he profit=
ed
much by her wisdom.
Now it chanced that Gudruda the Gentle w=
as
with child, and when her time came she gave a daughter birth--a very fair g=
irl,
with dark eyes. On the same day, Groa the witchwoman brought forth a
girl-child, and men wondered who was its father, for Groa was no man's wife=
. It
was women's talk that Asmund the Priest was the father of this child also; =
but
when he heard it he was angry, and said that no witchwoman should bear a ba=
irn
of his, howsoever fair she was. Nevertheless, it was still said that the ch=
ild
was his, and it is certain that he loved it as a man loves his own; but of =
all
things, this is the hardest to know. When Groa was questioned she laughed
darkly, as was her fashion, and said that she knew nothing of it, never hav=
ing
seen the face of the child's father, who rose out of the sea at night. And =
for
this cause some thought him to have been a wizard or the wraith of her dead
husband; but others said that Groa lied, as many women have done on such
matters. But of all this talk the child alone remained and she was named
Swanhild.
Now, but an hour
before the child of Gudruda the Gentle was born, Asmund went up from his ho=
use
to the Temple, to tend the holy fire that burned night and day upon the alt=
ar.
When he had tended the fire, he sat down upon the cross-benches before the
shrine, and, gazing on the image of the Goddess Freya, he fell asleep and
dreamed a very evil dream.
He dreamed that
Gudruda the Gentle bore a dove most beautiful to see, for all its feathers =
were
of silver; but that Groa the Witch bore a golden snake. And the snake and t=
he
dove dwelt together, and ever the snake sought to slay the dove. At length
there came a great white swan flying over Coldback Fell, and its tongue was=
a
sharp sword. Now the swan saw the dove and loved it, and the dove loved the
swan; but the snake reared itself, and hissed, and sought to kill the dove.=
But
the swan covered her with his wings, and beat the snake away. Then he, Asmu=
nd,
came out and drove away the swan, as the swan had driven the snake, and it
wheeled high into the air and flew south, and the snake swam away also thro=
ugh
the sea. But the dove drooped and now it was blind. Then an eagle came from=
the
north, and would have taken the dove, but it fled round and round, crying, =
and
always the eagle drew nearer to it. At length, from the south the swan came
back, flying heavily, and about its neck was twined the golden snake, and w=
ith
it came a raven. And it saw the eagle and loud it trumpeted, and shook the
snake from it so that it fell like a gleam of gold into the sea. Then the e=
agle
and the swan met in battle, and the swan drove the eagle down and broke it =
with
his wings, and, flying to the dove, comforted it. But those in the house ran
out and shot at the swan with bows and drove it away, but now he, Asmund, w=
as
not with them. And once more the dove drooped. Again the swan came back, and
with it the raven, and a great host were gathered against them, and, among
them, all of Asmund's kith and kin, and the men of his quarter and some of =
his
priesthood, and many whom he did not know by face. And the swan flew at Bjö=
rn
his son, and shot out the sword of its tongue and slew him, and many a man =
it
slew thus. And the raven, with a beak and claws of steel, slew also many a =
man,
so that Asmund's kindred fled and the swan slept by the dove. But as it sle=
pt
the golden snake crawled out of the sea, and hissed in the ears of men, and
they rose up to follow it. It came to the swan and twined itself about its =
neck.
It struck at the dove and slew it. Then the swan awoke and the raven awoke,=
and
they did battle till all who remained of Asmund's kindred and people were d=
ead.
But still the snake clung about the swan's neck, and presently snake and sw=
an
fell into the sea, and far out on the sea there burned a flame of fire. And
Asmund awoke trembling and left the Temple.
Now as he went, a
woman came running, and weeping as she ran.
"Haste,
haste!" she cried; "a daughter is born to thee, and Gudruda thy w=
ife
is dying!"
"Is it so?&q=
uot;
said Asmund; "after ill dreams ill tidings."
Now in the bed-cl=
oset
off the great hall of Middalhof lay Gudruda the Gentle and she was dying.
"Art thou th=
ere,
husband?" she said.
"Even so,
wife."
"Thou comest=
in
an evil hour, for it is my last. Now hearken. Take thou the new-born babe
within thine arms and kiss it, and pour water over it, and name it with my
name."
This Asmund did.<= o:p>
"Hearken, my
husband. I have been a good wife to thee, though thou hast not been all goo=
d to
me. But thus shalt thou atone: thou shalt swear that, though she is a girl,
thou wilt not cast this bairn forth to perish, but wilt cherish and nurture
her."
"I swear
it," he said.
"And thou sh=
alt
swear that thou wilt not take the witchwoman Groa to wife, nor have anythin=
g to
do with her, and this for thine own sake: for, if thou dost, she will be thy
death. Dost thou swear?"
"I swear
it," he said.
"It is well;
but, husband, if thou dost break thine oath, either in the words or in the
spirit of the words, evil shall overtake thee and all thy house. Now bid me
farewell, for I die."
He bent over her =
and
kissed her, and it is said that Asmund wept in that hour, for after his fas=
hion
he loved his wife.
"Give me the
babe," she said, "that it may lie once upon my breast."
They gave her the
babe and she looked upon its dark eyes and said:
"Fairest of
women shalt thou be, Gudruda--fair as no woman in Iceland ever was before t=
hee;
and thou shalt love with a mighty love--and thou shalt lose--and, losing, t=
hou
shalt find again."
Now, it is said t=
hat,
as she spoke these words, her face grew bright as a spirit's, and, having
spoken them, she fell back dead. And they laid her in earth, but Asmund mou=
rned
her much.
But, when all was
over and done, the dream that he had dreamed lay heavy on him. Now of all
diviners of dreams Groa was the most skilled, and when Gudruda had been in
earth seven full days, Asmund went to Groa, though doubtfully, because of h=
is
oath.
He came to the ho=
use
and entered. On a couch in the chamber lay Groa, and her babe was on her br=
east
and she was very fair to see.
"Greeting,
lord!" she said. "What wouldest thou here?"
"I have drea=
med
a dream, and thou alone canst read it."
"That is as =
it
may be," she answered. "It is true that I have some skill in drea=
ms.
At the least I will hear it."
Then he unfolded =
it
to her every word.
"What wilt t=
hou
give me if I read thy dream?" she said.
"What dost t=
hou
ask? Methinks I have given thee much."
"Yea,
lord," and she looked at the babe upon her breast. "I ask but a l=
ittle
thing: that thou shalt take this bairn in thy arms, pour water over it and =
name
it."
"Men will ta=
lk
if I do this, for it is the father's part."
"It is a lit=
tle
thing what men say: talk goes by as the wind. Moreover, thou shalt give them
the lie in the child's name, for it shall be Swanhild the Fatherless.
Nevertheless that is my price. Pay it if thou wilt."
"Read me the
dream and I will name the child."
"Nay, first =
name
thou the babe: for then no harm shall come to her at thy hands."
So Asmund took the
child, poured water over her, and named her.
Then Groa spoke:
"This lord, is the reading of thy dream, else my wisdom is at fault: T=
he
silver dove is thy daughter Gudruda, the golden snake is my daughter Swanhi=
ld,
and these two shall hate one the other and strive against each other. But t=
he
swan is a mighty man whom both shall love, and, if he love not both, yet sh=
all
belong to both. And thou shalt send him away; but he shall return and bring=
bad
luck to thee and thy house, and thy daughter shall be blind with love of hi=
m.
And in the end he shall slay the eagle, a great lord from the north who sha=
ll
seek to wed thy daughter, and many another shall he slay, by the help of th=
at raven
with the bill of steel who shall be with him. But Swanhild shall triumph ov=
er
thy daughter Gudruda, and this man, and the two of them, shall die at her
hands, and, for the rest, who can say? But this is true--that the mighty man
shall bring all thy race to an end. See now, I have read thy rede."
Then Asmund was v=
ery
wroth. "Thou wast wise to beguile me to name thy bastard brat," he
said; "else had I been its death within this hour."
"This thou c=
anst
not do, lord, seeing that thou hast held it in thy arms," Groa answere=
d,
laughing. "Go rather and lay out Gudruda the Fair on Coldback Hill; so
shalt thou make an end of the evil, for Gudruda shall be its very root. Lea=
rn
this, moreover: that thy dream does not tell all, seeing that thou thyself =
must
play a part in the fate. Go, send forth the babe Gudruda, and be at rest.&q=
uot;
"That cannot=
be,
for I have sworn to cherish it, and with an oath that may not be broken.&qu=
ot;
"It is
well," laughed Groa. "Things will befall as they are fated; let t=
hem
befall in their season. There is space for cairns on Coldback and the sea c=
an
shroud its dead!"
And Asmund went
thence, angered at heart.
=
II - HOW ERIC TOLD HIS LO=
VE
TO GUDRUDA IN THE SNOW ON COLDBACK
Now, it must be t=
old
that, five years before the day of the death of Gudruda the Gentle, Saevuna,
the wife of Thorgrimur Iron-Toe, gave birth to a son, at Coldback in the Ma=
rsh,
on Ran River, and when his father came to look upon the child he called out
aloud:
"Here we hav=
e a
wondrous bairn, for his hair is yellow like gold and his eyes shine bright =
as
stars." And Thorgrimur named him Eric Brighteyes.
Now, Coldback is =
but
an hour's ride from Middalhof, and it chanced, in after years, that Thorgri=
mur
went up to Middalhof, to keep the Yule feast and worship in the Temple, for=
he
was in the priesthood of Asmund Asmundson, bringing the boy Eric with him.
There also was Groa with Swanhild, for now she dwelt at Middalhof; and the
three fair children were set together in the hall to play, and men thought =
it
great sport to see them. Now, Gudruda had a horse of wood and would ride it
while Eric pushed the horse along. But Swanhild smote her from the horse and
called to Eric to make it move; but he comforted Gudruda and would not, and=
at that
Swanhild was angry and lisped out:
"Push thou m=
ust,
if I will it, Eric."
Then he pushed
sideways and with such good will that Swanhild fell almost into the fire of=
the
hearth, and, leaping up, she snatched a brand and threw it at Gudruda, firi=
ng
her clothes. Men laughed at this; but Groa, standing apart, frowned and
muttered witch-words.
"Why lookest
thou so darkly, housekeeper?" said Asmund; "the boy is bonny and =
high
of heart."
"Ah, he is b=
onny
as no child is, and he shall be bonny all his life-days. Nevertheless, she
shall not stand against his ill luck. This I prophesy of him: that women sh=
all
bring him to his end, and he shall die a hero's death, but not at the hand =
of
his foes."
And now the years went by peacefully. Gr=
oa
dwelt with her daughter Swanhild up at Middalhof and was the love of Asmund
Asmundson. But, though he forgot his oath thus far, yet he would never take=
her
to wife. The witchwife was angered at this, and she schemed and plotted muc=
h to
bring it about that Asmund should wed her. But still he would not, though in
all things else she led him as it were by a halter.
Twenty full years had gone by since Gudr= uda the Gentle was laid in earth; and now Gudruda the Fair and Swanhild the Fatherless were women too. Eric, too, was a man of five-and-twenty years, a= nd no such man had lived in Iceland. For he was strong and great of stature, h= is hair was yellow as gold, and his grey eyes shone with the light of swords. = He was gentle and loving as a woman, and even as a lad his strength was the streng= th of two men; and there were none in all the quarter who could leap or swim or wrestle against Eric Brighteyes. Men held him in honour and spoke well of h= im, though as yet he had done no deeds, but lived at home on Coldback, managing= the farm, for now Thorgrimur Iron-Toe, his father, was dead. But women loved him much, and that was his bane--for of all women he loved but one, Gudruda the Fair, Asmund's daughter. He loved her from a child, and her alone till his = day of death, and she, too, loved him and him only. For now Gudruda was a maid = of maids, most beautiful to see and sweet to hear. Her hair, like the hair of Eric, was golden, and she was white as the snow on Hecla; but her eyes were large and dark, and black lashes drooped above them. For the rest she was t= all and strong and comely, merry of face, yet tender, and the most witty of women.<= o:p>
Swanhild also was
very fair; she was slender, small of limb, and dark of hue, having eyes blu=
e as
the deep sea, and brown curling hair, enough to veil her to the knees, and a
mind of which none knew the end, for, though she was open in her talk, her
thoughts were dark and secret. This was her joy: to draw the hearts of men =
to
her and then to mock them. She beguiled many in this fashion, for she was t=
he
cunningest girl in matters of love, and she knew well the arts of women, wi=
th
which they bring men to nothing. Nevertheless she was cold at heart, and
desired power and wealth greatly, and she studied magic much, of which her =
mother
Groa also had a store. But Swanhild, too, loved a man, and that was the joi=
nt
in her harness by which the shaft of Fate entered her heart, for that man w=
as
Eric Brighteyes, who loved her not. But she desired him so sorely that, wit=
hout
him, all the world was dark to her, and her soul but as a ship driven
rudderless upon a winter night. Therefore she put out all her strength to w=
in
him, and bent her witcheries upon him, and they were not few nor small.
Nevertheless they went by him like the wind, for he dreamed ever of Gudruda
alone, and he saw no eyes but hers, though as yet they spoke no word of love
one to the other.
But Swanhild in h=
er
wrath took counsel with her mother Groa, though there was little liking bet=
ween
them; and, when she had heard the maiden's tale, Groa laughed aloud:
"Dost think =
me
blind, girl?" she said; "all of this I have seen, yea and foresee=
n,
and I tell thee thou art mad. Let this yeoman Eric go and I will find thee
finer fowl to fly at."
"Nay, that I
will not," quoth Swanhild: "for I love this man alone, and I would
win him; and Gudruda I hate, and I would overthrow her. Give me of thy
counsel."
Groa laughed agai=
n.
"Things must be as they are fated. This now is my rede: Asmund would t=
urn
Gudruda's beauty to account, and that man must be rich in friends and money=
who
gets her to wife, and in this matter the mind of Björn is as the mind of his
father. Now we will watch, and, when a good time chances, we will bear tale=
s of
Gudruda to Asmund and to her brother Björn, and swear that she oversteps her
modesty with Eric. Then shall Asmund be wroth and drive Eric from Gudruda's
side. Meanwhile, I will do this: In the north there dwells a man mighty in =
all things
and blown up with pride. He is named Ospakar Blacktooth. His wife is but la=
tely
dead, and he has given out that he will wed the fairest maid in Iceland. No=
w,
it is in my mind to send Koll the Half-witted, my thrall, whom Asmund gave =
to
me, to Ospakar as though by chance. He is a great talker and very clever, f=
or
in his half-wits is more cunning than in the brains of most; and he shall so
bepraise Gudruda's beauty that Ospakar will come hither to ask her in marri=
age;
and in this fashion, if things go well, thou shalt be rid of thy rival, and=
I
of one who looks scornfully upon me. But, if this fail, then there are two
roads left on which strong feet may travel to their end; and of these, one =
is
that thou shouldest win Eric away with thine own beauty, and that is not li=
ttle.
All men are frail, and I have a draught that will make the heart as wax; but
yet the other path is surer."
"And what is
that path, my mother?"
"It runs thr=
ough
blood to blackness. By thy side is a knife and in Gudruda's bosom beats a
heart. Dead women are unmeet for love!"
Swanhild tossed h=
er
head and looked upon the dark face of Groa her mother.
"Methinks, w=
ith
such an end to win, I should not fear to tread that path, if there be need,=
my
mother."
"Now I see t=
hou
art indeed my daughter. Happiness is to the bold. To each it comes in uncer=
tain
shape. Some love power, some wealth, and some--a man. Take that which thou
lovest--I say, cut thy path to it and take it; else shall thy life be but a
weariness: for what does it serve to win the wealth and power when thou lov=
est
a man alone, or the man when thou dost desire gold and the pride of place? =
This
is wisdom: to satisfy the longing of thy youth; for age creeps on apace and
beyond is darkness. Therefore, if thou seekest this man, and Gudruda blocks=
thy
path, slay her, girl--by witchcraft or by steel--and take him, and in his a=
rms
forget that thine own are red. But first let us try the easier plan. Daught=
er,
I too hate this proud girl, who scorns me as her father's light-of-love. I =
too
long to see that bright head of hers dull with the dust of death, or, at the
least, those proud eyes weeping tears of shame as the man she hates leads h=
er
hence as a bride. Were it not for her I should be Asmund's wife, and, when =
she
is gone, with thy help--for he loves thee much and has cause to love thee--=
this
I may be yet. So in this matter, if in no other, let us go hand in hand and
match our wits against her innocence."
Now, Koll the Half-witted went upon his
errand, and the time passed till it lacked but a month to Yule, and men sat
indoors, for the season was dark and much snow fell. At length came frost, =
and
with it a clear sky, and Gudruda, ceasing from her spinning in the hall, we=
nt
to the woman's porch, and, looking out, saw that the snow was hard, and a g=
reat
longing came upon her to breathe the fresh air, for there was still an hour=
of daylight.
So she threw a cloak about her and walked forth, taking the road towards
Coldback in the Marsh that is by Ran River. But Swanhild watched her till s=
he
was over the hill. Then she also took a cloak and followed on that path, for
she always watched Gudruda.
Gudruda walked on=
for
the half of an hour or so, when she became aware that the clouds gathered in
the sky, and that the air was heavy with snow to come. Seeing this she turn=
ed
homewards, and Swanhild hid herself to let her pass. Now flakes floated dow=
n as
big and soft as fifa flowers. Quicker and more quick they came till all the
plain was one white maze of mist, but through it Gudruda walked on, and aft=
er
her crept Swanhild, like a shadow. And now the darkness gathered and the sn=
ow
fell thick and fast, covering up the track of her footsteps and she wandered
from the path, and after her wandered Swanhild, being loath to show herself.
For an hour or more Gudruda wandered and then she called aloud and her voice
fell heavily against the cloak of snow. At the last she grew weary and
frightened, and sat down upon a shelving rock whence the snow had slipped a=
way.
Now, a little way behind was another rock and there Swanhild sat, for she
wished to be unseen of Gudruda. So some time passed, and Swanhild grew heav=
y as
though with sleep, when of a sudden a moving thing loomed upon the snowy
darkness. Then Gudruda leapt to her feet and called. A man's voice answered=
:
"Who passes
there?"
"I, Gudruda,
Asmund's daughter."
The form came nea=
rer;
now Swanhild could hear the snorting of a horse, and now a man leapt from i=
t,
and that man was Eric Brighteyes.
"Is it thou
indeed, Gudruda!" he said with a laugh, and his great shape showed dar=
kly
on the snow mist.
"Oh, is it t=
hou,
Eric?" she answered. "I was never more joyed to see thee; for of a
truth thou dost come in a good hour. A little while and I had seen thee no
more, for my eyes grow heavy with the death-sleep."
"Nay, say not
so. Art lost, then? Why, so am I. I came out to seek three horses that are
strayed, and was overtaken by the snow. May they dwell in Odin's stables, f=
or
they have led me to thee. Art thou cold, Gudruda?"
"But a littl=
e,
Eric. Yea, there is place for thee here on the rock."
So he sat down by=
her
on the stone, and Swanhild crept nearer; for now all weariness had left her.
But still the snow fell thick.
"It comes in=
to
my mind that we two shall die here," said Gudruda presently.
"Thinkest th=
ou
so?" he answered. "Well, I will say this, that I ask no better
end."
"It is a bad=
end
for thee, Eric: to be choked in snow, and with all thy deeds to do."
"It is a good
end, Gudruda, to die at thy side, for so I shall die happy; but I grieve for
thee."
"Grieve not =
for
me, Brighteyes, worse things might befall."
He drew nearer to
her, and now he put his arms about her and clasped her to his bosom; nor did
she say him nay. Swanhild saw and lifted herself up behind them, but for a
while she heard nothing but the beating of her heart.
"Listen,
Gudruda," Eric said at last. "Death draws near to us, and before =
it
comes I would speak to thee, if speak I may."
"Speak on,&q=
uot;
she whispers from his breast.
"This I would
say, then: that I love thee, and that I ask no better fate than to die in t=
hy
arms."
"First shalt
thou see me die in thine, Eric."
"Be sure, if
that is so, I shall not tarry for long. Oh! Gudruda, since I was a child I =
have
loved thee with a mighty love, and now thou art all to me. Better to die th=
us
than to live without thee. Speak, then, while there is time."
"I will not =
hide
from thee, Eric, that thy words are sweet in my ears."
And now Gudruda s=
obs
and the tears fall fast from her dark eyes.
"Nay, weep n=
ot.
Dost thou, then, love me?"
"Ay, sure
enough, Eric."
"Then kiss me
before we pass. A man should not die thus, and yet men have died worse.&quo=
t;
And so these two
kissed, for the first time, out in the snow on Coldback, and that first kiss
was long and sweet.
Swanhild heard and
her blood seethed within her as water seethes in a boiling spring when the
fires wake beneath. She put her hand to her kirtle and gripped the knife at=
her
side. She half drew it, then drove it back.
"Cold kills =
as
sure as steel," she said in her heart. "If I slay her I cannot sa=
ve
myself or him. Let us die in peace, and let the snow cover up our
troubling." And once more she listened.
"Ah,
sweet," said Eric, "even in the midst of death there is hope of l=
ife.
Swear to me, then, that if by chance we live thou wilt love me always as th=
ou
lovest me now."
"Ay, Eric, I
swear that and readily."
"And swear, =
come
what may, that thou wilt wed no man but me."
"I swear, if
thou dost remain true to me, that I will wed none but thee, Eric."
"Then I am s=
ure
of thee."
"Boast not
overmuch, Eric: if thou dost live thy days are all before thee, and with ti=
mes
come trials."
Now the snow whir=
led
down faster and more thick, till these two, clasped heart to heart, were bu=
t a
heap of white, and all white was the horse, and Swanhild was nearly buried.=
"Where go we
when we die, Eric?" said Gudruda; "in Odin's house there is no pl=
ace
for maids, and how shall my feet fare without thee?"
"Nay, sweet,=
my
May, Valhalla shuts its gates to me, a deedless man; up Bifrost's rainbow
bridge I may not travel, for I do not die with byrnie on breast and sword
aloft. To Hela shall we go, and hand in hand."
"Art thou su=
re,
Eric, that men find these abodes? To say sooth, at times I misdoubt me of
them."
"I am not so
sure but that I also doubt. Still, I know this: that where thou goest there=
I
shall be, Gudruda."
"Then things=
are
well, and well work the Norns.[*] Still, Eric, of a sudden I grow fey: for =
it
comes upon me that I shall not die to-night, but that, nevertheless, I shall
die with thy arms about me, and at thy side. There, I see it on the snow! I=
lie
by thee, sleeping, and one comes with hands outstretched and sleep falls fr=
om
them like a mist--by Freya, it is Swanhild's self! Oh! it is gone."
[*] The Northern
Fates.
"It was noth=
ing,
Gudruda, but a vision of the snow--an untimely dream that comes before the
sleep. I grow cold and my eyes are heavy; kiss me once again."
"It was no
dream, Eric, and ever I doubt me of Swanhild, for I think she loves thee al=
so,
and she is fair and my enemy," says Gudruda, laying her snow-cold lips=
on
his lips. "Oh, Eric, awake! awake! See, the snow is done."
He stumbled to hi=
s feet
and looked forth. Lo! out across the sky flared the wild Northern fires,
throwing light upon the darkness.
"Now it seems
that I know the land," said Eric. "Look: yonder are Golden Falls,
though we did not hear them because of the snow; and there, out at sea, loom
the Westmans; and that dark thing is the Temple Hof, and behind it stands t=
he
stead. We are saved, Gudruda, and thus far indeed thou wast fey. Now rise, =
ere
thy limbs stiffen, and I will set thee on the horse, if he still can run, a=
nd
lead thee down to Middalhof before the witchlights fail us."
"So it shall=
be,
Eric."
Now he led Gudrud=
a to
the horse--that, seeing its master, snorted and shook the snow from its coa=
t,
for it was not frozen--and set her on the saddle, and put his arm about her=
waist,
and they passed slowly through the deep snow. And Swanhild, too, crept from=
her
place, for her burning rage had kept the life in her, and followed after th=
em.
Many times she fell, and once she was nearly swallowed in a drift of snow a=
nd
cried out in her fear.
"Who called
aloud?" said Eric, turning; "I thought I heard a voice."
"Nay,"
answers Gudruda, "it was but a night-hawk screaming."
Now Swanhild lay
quiet in the drift, but she said in her heart:
"Ay, a night-hawk that shall tear out those dark eyes of thine, mine enemy!"<= o:p>
The two go on and=
at
length they come to the banked roadway that runs past the Temple to Asmund's
hall. Here Swanhild leaves them, and, climbing over the turf-wall into the =
home
meadow, passes round the hall by the outbuildings and so comes to the west =
end
of the house, and enters by the men's door unnoticed of any. For all the
people, seeing a horse coming and a woman seated on it, were gathered in fr=
ont
of the hall. But Swanhild ran to that shut bed where she slept, and, closin=
g the
curtain, threw off her garments, shook the snow from her hair, and put on a
linen kirtle. Then she rested a while, for she was weary, and, going to the
kitchen, warmed herself at the fire.
Meanwhile Eric and
Gudruda came to the house and there Asmund greeted them well, for he was
troubled in his heart about his daughter, and very glad to know her living,
seeing that men had but now begun to search for her, because of the snow and
the darkness.
Now Gudruda told =
her
tale, but not all of it, and Asmund bade Eric to the house. Then one asked
about Swanhild, and Eric said that he had seen nothing of her, and Asmund w=
as
sad at this, for he loved Swanhild. But as he told all men to go and search=
, an
old wife came and said that Swanhild was in the kitchen, and while the carl=
ine
spoke she came into the hall, dressed in white, very pale, and with shining
eyes and fair to see.
"Where hast =
thou
been, Swanhild?" said Asmund. "I thought certainly thou wast
perishing with Gudruda in the snow, and now all men go to seek thee while t=
he
witchlights burn."
"Nay,
foster-father, I have been to the Temple," she answered, lying. "=
So
Gudruda has but narrowly escaped the snow, thanks be to Brighteyes yonder!
Surely I am glad of it, for we could ill spare our sweet sister," and,
going up to her, she kissed her. But Gudruda saw that her eyes burned like =
fire
and felt that her lips were cold as ice, and shrank back wondering.
=
III - HOW ASMUND BADE ERI=
C TO
HIS YULE-FEAST
Now it was
supper-time and men sat at meat while the women waited upon them. But as she
went to and fro, Gudruda always looked at Eric, and Swanhild watched them b=
oth.
Supper being over, people gathered round the hearth, and, having finished h=
er
service, Gudruda came and sat by Eric, so that her sleeve might touch his. =
They
spoke no word, but there they sat and were happy. Swanhild saw and bit her =
lip.
Now, she was seated by Asmund and Björn his son.
"Look,
foster-father," she said; "yonder sit a pretty pair!"
"That cannot=
be
denied," answered Asmund. "One may ride many days to see such ano=
ther
man as Eric Brighteyes, and no such maid as Gudruda flowers between Middalh=
of
and London town, unless it be thou, Swanhild. Well, so her mother said that=
it
should be, and without doubt she was foresighted at her death."
"Nay, name me
not with Gudruda, foster-father; I am but a grey goose by thy white swan. B=
ut
these shall be well wed and that will be a good match for Eric."
"Let not thy
tongue run on so fast," said Asmund sharply. "Who told thee that =
Eric
should have Gudruda?"
"None told m=
e,
but in truth, having eyes and ears, I grew certain of it," said Swanhi=
ld.
"Look at them now: surely lovers wear such faces."
Now it chanced th=
at
Gudruda had rested her chin on her hand, and was gazing into Eric's eyes
beneath the shadow of her hair.
"Methinks my
sister will look higher than to wed a simple yeoman, though he is large as =
two
other men," said Björn with a sneer. Now Björn was jealous of Eric's
strength and beauty, and did not love him.
"Trust nothi=
ng
that thou seest and little that thou hearest, girl," said Asmund, rais=
ing
himself from thought: "so shall thy guesses be good. Eric, come here a=
nd
tell us how thou didst chance on Gudruda in the snow."
"I was not so
ill seated but that I could bear to stay," grumbled Eric beneath his
breath; but Gudruda said "Go."
So he went and to=
ld
his tale; but not all of it, for he intended to ask Gudruda in marriage on =
the
morrow, though his heart prophesied no luck in the matter, and therefore he=
was
not overswift with it.
"In this thi=
ng
thou hast done me and mine good service," said Asmund coldly, searching
Eric's face with his blue eyes. "It had been said if my fair daughter =
had
perished in the snow, for, know this: I would set her high in marriage, for=
her
honour and the honour of my house, and so some rich and noble man had lost
great joy. But take thou this gift in memory of the deed, and Gudruda's hus=
band
shall give thee another such upon the day that he makes her wife," and=
he
drew a gold ring off his arm.
Now Eric's knees
trembled as he heard, and his heart grew faint as though with fear. But he
answered clear and straight:
"Thy gift had
been better without thy words, ring-giver; but I pray thee
to take it back, =
for
I have done nothing to win it, though perhaps the time will come when I sha=
ll
ask thee for a richer."
"My gifts ha=
ve
never been put away before," said Asmund, growing angry.
"This wealthy
farmer holds the good gold of little worth. It is foolish to take fish to t=
he
sea, my father," sneered Björn.
"Nay, Björn,=
not
so," Eric answered: "but, as thou sayest, I am but a farmer, and
since my father, Thorgrimur Iron-Toe, died things have not gone too well on=
Ran
River. But at the least I am a free man, and I will take no gifts that I ca=
nnot
repay worth for worth. Therefore I will not have the ring."
"As thou
wilt," said Asmund. "Pride is a good horse if thou ridest wisely,=
"
and he thrust the ring back upon his arm.
Then people go to
rest; but Swanhild seeks her mother, and tells her all that has befallen he=
r,
nor does Groa fail to listen.
"Now I will =
make
a plan," she says, "for these things have chanced well and Asmund=
is
in a ripe humour. Eric shall come no more to Middalhof till Gudruda is gone
hence, led by Ospakar Blacktooth."
"And if Eric
does not come here, how shall I see his face? for, mother, I long for the s=
ight
of it."
"That is thy
matter, thou lovesick fool. Know this: that if Eric comes hither and gets
speech with Gudruda, there is an end of thy hopes; for, fair as thou art, s=
he
is too fair for thee, and, strong as thou art, in a way she is too strong. =
Thou
hast heard how these two love, and such loves mock at the will of fathers. =
Eric
will win his desire or die beneath the swords of Asmund and Björn, if such =
men
can prevail against his might. Nay, the wolf Eric must be fenced from the l=
amb
till he grows hungry. Then let him search the fold and make spoil of thee, =
for,
when the best is gone, he will desire the good."
"So be it,
mother. As I sat crouched behind Gudruda in the snow at Coldback, I had hal=
f a
mind to end her love-words with this knife, for so I should have been free =
of
her."
"Yes, and fa=
st
in the doom-ring, thou wildcat. The gods help this Eric, if thou winnest hi=
m.
Nay, choose thy time and, if thou must strike, strike secretly and home.
Remember also that cunning is mightier than strength, that lies pierce furt=
her
than swords, and that witchcraft wins where honesty must fail. Now I will g=
o to
Asmund, and he shall be an angry man before to-morrow comes."
Then Groa went to=
the
shut bed where Asmund the Priest slept. He was sitting on the bed and asked=
her
why she came.
"For love of
thee, Asmund, and thy house, though thou dost treat me ill, who hast profit=
ed
so much by me and my foresight. Say now: wilt thou that this daughter of th=
ine,
Gudruda the Fair, should be the light May of yonder long-legged yeoman?&quo=
t;
"That is not=
in
my mind," said Asmund, stroking his beard.
"Knowest tho=
u,
then, that this very day your white Gudruda sat on Eric's lap in the snow,
while he fondled her to his heart's content?"
"Most likely=
it
was for warmth. Men do not dream on love in the hour of death. Who saw
this?"
"Swanhild, w=
ho
was behind, and hid herself for shame, and therefore she held that these two
must soon be wed! Ah, thou art foolish now, Asmund. Young blood makes light=
of
cold or death. Art thou blind, or dost thou not see that these two turn on =
each
other like birds at nesting-time?"
"They might =
do
worse," said Asmund, "for they are a proper pair, and it seems to=
me
that each was born for each."
"Then all go=
es
well. Still, it is a pity to see so fair a maid cast like rotten bait upon =
the
waters to hook this troutlet of a yeoman. Thou hast enemies, Asmund; thou a=
rt
too prosperous, and there are many who hate thee for thy state and wealth. =
Were
it not wise to use this girl of thine to build a wall about thee against the
evil day?"
"I have been
more wont, housekeeper, to trust to my own arm than to bought friends. But =
tell
me, for at the least thou art far-seeing, how may this be done? As things a=
re, though
I spoke roughly to him last night, I am inclined to let Eric Brighteyes take
Gudruda. I have always loved the lad, and he will go far."
"Listen, Asm=
und!
Surely thou hast heard of Ospakar Blacktooth--the priest who dwells in the
north?"
"Ay, I have
heard of him, and I know him; there is no man like him for ugliness, or
strength, or wealth and power. We sailed together on a viking cruise many y=
ears
ago, and he did things at which my blood turned, and in those days I had no
chicken heart."
"With time m=
en
change their temper. Unless I am mistaken, this Ospakar wishes above all to
have Gudruda in marriage, for, now that everything is his, this alone is le=
ft
for him to ask--the fairest woman in Iceland as a housewife. Think then, wi=
th
Ospakar for a son-in-law, who is there that can stand against thee?"
"I am not so
sure of this matter, nor do I altogether trust thee, Groa. Of a truth it se=
ems
to me that thou hast some stake upon the race. This Ospakar is evil and
hideous. It were a shame to give Gudruda over to him when she looks elsewhe=
re.
Knowest thou that I swore to love and cherish her, and how runs this with my
oath? If Eric is not too rich, yet he is of good birth and kin, and, moreov=
er,
a man of men. If he take her good will come of it."
"It is like thee, Asmund, always to mistrust those who spend their days in plotting for= thy weal. Do as thou wilt: let Eric take this treasure of thine--for whom earls would give their state--and live to rue it. But I say this: if he have thy leave to roam here with his dove the matter will soon grow, for these two sicken each to each, and young blood is hot and ill at waiting, and it is n= ot always snow-time. So betroth her or let him go. And now I have said."<= o:p>
"Thy tongue =
runs
too fast. The man is quite unproved and I will try him. To-morrow I will wa=
rn
him from my door; then things shall go as they are fated. And now peace, fo=
r I
weary of thy talk, and, moreover, it is false; for thou lackest one thing--a
little honesty to season all thy craft. What fee has Ospakar paid thee, I
wonder. Thou at least hadst never refused the gold ring to-night, for thou
wouldst do much for gold."
"And more for
love, and most of all for hate," Groa said, and laughed aloud; nor did
they speak more on this matter that night.
Now, early in the
morning Asmund rose, and, going to the hall, awoke Eric, who slept by the
centre hearth, saying that he would talk with him without. Then Eric follow=
ed
him to the back of the hall.
"Say now,
Eric," he said, when they stood in the grey light outside the house,
"who was it taught thee that kisses keep out the cold on snowy days?&q=
uot;
Now Eric reddened=
to
his yellow hair, but he answered: "Who was it told thee, lord, that I
tried this medicine?"
"The snow hi=
des
much, but there are eyes that can pierce the snow. Nay, more, thou wast see=
n,
and there's an end. Now know this--I like thee well, but Gudruda is not for
thee; she is far above thee, who art but a deedless yeoman."
"Then I love=
to
no end," said Eric; "I long for one thing only, and that is Gudru=
da.
It was in my mind to ask her in marriage of thee to-day."
"Then, lad, =
thou
hast thy answer before thou askest. Be sure of one thing: if but once again=
I
find thee alone with Gudruda, it is my axe shall kiss thee and not her
lips."
"That may ye=
t be
put to the proof, lord," said Eric, and turned to seek his horse, when
suddenly Gudruda came and stood between them, and his heart leapt at the si=
ght
of her.
"Listen,
Gudruda," Eric said. "This is thy father's word: that we two speak
together no more."
"Then it is =
an
ill saying for us," said Gudruda, laying her hand upon her breast.
"Saying good=
or
ill, so it surely is, girl," answered Asmund. "No more shalt thou=
go
a-kissing, in the snow or in the flowers."
"Now I seem =
to
hear Swanhild's voice," she said. "Well, such things have happene=
d to
better folk, and a father's wish is to a maid what the wind is to the grass.
Still, the sun is behind the cloud and it will shine again some day. Till t=
hen,
Eric, fare thee well!"
"It is not t=
hy
will, lord," said Eric, "that I should come to thy Yule-feast as =
thou
hast asked me these ten years past?"
Now Asmund grew
wroth, and pointed with his hand towards the great Golden Falls that thunder
down the mountain named Stonefell that is behind Middalhof, and there are n=
o greater
water-falls in Iceland.
"A man may t=
ake
two roads, Eric, from Coldback to Middalhof, one by the bridle-path over
Coldback and the other down Golden Falls; but I never knew traveller to cho=
ose
this way. Now, I bid thee to my feast by the path over Golden Falls; and, if
thou comest that way, I promise thee this: if thou livest I will greet thee
well, and if I find thee dead in the great pool I will bind on thy Hell-sho=
es
and lay thee to earth neighbourly fashion. But if thou comest by any other
path, then my thralls shall cut thee down at my door." And he stroked =
his
beard and laughed.
Now Asmund spoke =
thus
mockingly because he did not think it possible that any man should try the =
path
of the Golden Falls.
Eric smiled and s=
aid,
"I hold thee to thy word, lord; perhaps I shall be thy guest at
Yule."
But Gudruda heard=
the
thunder of the mighty Falls as the wind turned, and cried "Nay, nay--it
were thy death!"
Then Eric finds h=
is
horse and rides away across the snow.
Now it must be to=
ld
of Koll the Half-witted that at length he came to Swinefell in the north,
having journeyed hard across the snow. Here Ospakar Blacktooth had his great
hall, in which day by day a hundred men sat down to meat. Now Koll entered =
the
hall when Ospakar was at supper, and looked at him with big eyes, for he had
never seen so wonderful a man. He was huge in stature--his hair was black, =
and
black his beard, and on his lower lip there lay a great black fang. His eyes
were small and narrow, but his cheekbones were set wide apart and high, lik=
e those
of a horse. Koll thought him an ill man to deal with and half a troll,[*] a=
nd
grew afraid of his errand, since in Koll's half-wittedness there was much
cunning--for it was a cloak in which he wrapped himself. But as Ospakar sat=
in
the high seat, clothed in a purple robe, with his sword Whitefire on his kn=
ee,
he saw Koll, and called out in a great voice:
[*] An able-bodied
Goblin.
"Who is this=
red
fox that creeps into my earth?"
For, to look at, =
Koll
was very like a fox.
"My name is =
Koll
the Half-witted, Groa's thrall, lord. Am I welcome here?" he answered.=
"That is as =
it
may be. Why do they call thee half-witted?"
"Because I l=
ove
not work overmuch, lord."
"Then all my
thralls are fellow to thee. Say, what brings thee here?"
"This lord. =
It
was told among men down in the south that thou wouldst give a good gift to =
him
who should discover to thee the fairest maid in Iceland. So I asked leave o=
f my
mistress to come on a journey and tell thee of her."
"Then a lie =
was
told thee. Still, I love to hear of fair maids, and seek one for a wife if =
she
be but fair enough. So speak on, Koll the Fox, and lie not to me, I warn th=
ee,
else I will knock what wits are left there from that red head of thine.&quo=
t;
So Koll took up t= he tale and greatly bepraised Gudruda's beauty; nor in truth, for all his talk, could he praise it too much. He told of her dark eyes and the whiteness of = her skin, of the nobleness of her shape and the gold of her hair, of her wit and gentleness, till at length Ospakar grew afire to see this flower of maids.<= o:p>
"By Thor, th=
ou
Koll," he said, "if the girl be but half of what thou sayest, her
luck is good, for she shall be wife to Ospakar. But if thou hast lied to me
about her, beware! for soon there shall be a knave the less in Iceland.&quo=
t;
Now a man rose in=
the
hall and said that Koll spoke truth, for he had seen Gudruda the Fair, Asmu=
nd's
daughter, and there was no maid like her in Iceland.
"I will do t=
his
now," said Blacktooth. "To-morrow I will send a messenger to
Middalhof, saying to Asmund the Priest that I purpose to visit him at the t=
ime
of the Yule-feast; then I shall see if the girl pleases me. Meanwhile, Koll,
take thou a seat among the thralls, and here is something for thy pains,&qu=
ot;
and he took off the purple cloak and threw it to him.
"Thanks to t=
hee,
Gold-scatterer," said Koll. "It is wise to go soon to Middalhof, =
for
such a bloom as this maid does not lack a bee. There is a youngling in the
south, named Eric Brighteyes, who loves Gudruda, and she, I think, loves hi=
m,
though he is but a yeoman of small wealth and is only twenty-five years
old."
"Ho! ho!&quo=
t;
laughed great Ospakar, "and I am forty-five. But let not this suckling
cross my desire, lest men call him Eric Holloweyes!"
Now the messenger of Ospakar came to
Middalhof, and his words pleased Asmund and he made ready a great feast. And
Swanhild smiled, but Gudruda was afraid.
=
IV - HOW ERIC CAME DOWN
GOLDEN FALLS
Now Ospakar rode =
up
to Middalhof on the day before the Yule-feast. He was splendidly apparelled,
and with him came his two sons, Gizur the Lawman and Mord, young men of
promise, and many armed thralls and servants. Gudruda, watching at the wome=
n's
door, saw his face in the moonlight and loathed him.
"What thinke=
st
thou of him who comes to seek thee in marriage, foster-sister?" asked
Swanhild, watching at her side.
"I think he =
is
like a troll, and that, seek as he will, he shall not find me. I had rather=
lie
in the pool beneath Golden Falls than in Ospakar's hall."
"That shall =
be
proved," said Swanhild. "At the least he is rich and noble, and t=
he
greatest of men in size. It would go hard with Eric were those arms about
him."
"I am not so
sure of that," said Gudruda; "but it is not likely to be known.&q=
uot;
"Comes Eric =
to
the feast by the road of Golden Falls, Gudruda?"
"Nay, no man=
may
try that path and live."
"Then he will
die, for Eric will risk it."
Now Gudruda thoug=
ht,
and a great fire burned in her heart and shone through her eyes. "If E=
ric
dies," she said, "on thee be his blood, Swanhild--on thee and tha=
t dark
mother of thine, for ye have plotted to bring this evil on us. How have I
harmed thee that thou shouldst deal thus with me?"
Swanhild turned w=
hite
and wicked-looking, for passion mastered her, and she gazed into Gudruda's =
face
and answered: "How hast thou harmed me? Surely I will tell thee. Thy
beauty has robbed me of Eric's love."
"It would be
better to prate of Eric's love when he had told it thee, Swanhild."
"Thou hast
robbed me and therefore I hate thee, and therefore I will deliver thee to O=
spakar,
whom thou dost loath--ay and yet win Brighteyes to myself. Am I not also fa=
ir
and can I not also love, and shall I see thee snatch my joy? By the Gods,
never! I will see thee dead, and Eric with thee, ere it shall be so! but fi=
rst
I will see thee shamed!"
"Thy words a=
re
ill-suited to a maiden's lips, Swanhild! But of this be sure: I fear thee n=
ot,
and shall never fear thee. And one thing I know well that, whether thou or I
prevail, in the end thou shalt harvest the greatest shame, and in times to =
come
men shall speak of thee with hatred and name thee by ill names. Moreover, E=
ric
shall never love thee; from year to year he shall hate thee with a deeper h=
ate,
though it may well be that thou wilt bring ruin on him. And now I thank thee
that thou hast told me all thy mind, showing me what indeed thou art!"=
And
Gudruda turned scornfully upon her heel and walked away.
Now Asmund the Pr=
iest
went out into the courtyard, and meeting Ospakar Blacktooth, greeted him
heartily, though he did not like his looks, and took him by the hand and led
him to the hall, that was bravely decked with tapestries, and seated him by=
his
side on the high seat. And Ospakar's thralls brought good gifts for Asmund,=
who
thanked the giver well.
Now it was supper
time, and Gudruda came in, and after her walked Swanhild. Ospakar gazed har=
d at
Gudruda and a great desire entered into him to make her his wife. But she
passed coldly by, nor looked on him at all.
"This, then,=
is
that maid of thine of whom I have heard tell, Asmund? I will say this: fair=
er
was never born of woman."
Then men ate and
Ospakar drank much ale, but all the while he stared at Gudruda and listened=
for
her voice. But as yet he said nothing of what he came to seek, though all k=
new
his errand. And his two sons, Gizur and Mord, stared also at Gudruda, for t=
hey
thought her most wonderfully fair. But Gizur found Swanhild also fair.
And so the night =
wore
on till it was time to sleep.
On this same day =
Eric
rode up from his farm on Ran River and took his road along the brow of Cold=
back
till he came to Stonefell. Now all along Coldback and Stonefell is a steep
cliff facing to the south, that grows ever higher till it comes to that poi=
nt
where Golden River falls over it and, parting its waters below, runs east a=
nd
west--the branch to the east being called Ran River and that to the west
Laxà--for these two streams girdle round the rich plain of Middalhof, till =
at
length they reach the sea. But in the midst of Golden River, on the edge of=
the
cliff, a mass of rock juts up called Sheep-saddle, dividing the waters of t=
he
fall, and over this the spray flies, and in winter the ice gathers, but the
river does not cover it. The great fall is thirty fathoms deep, and shaped =
like
a horseshoe, of which the points lie towards Middalhof. Yet if he could but
gain the Sheep-saddle rock that divides the midst of the waters, a strong a=
nd
hardy man might climb down some fifteen fathoms of this depth and scarcely =
wet
his feet.
Now here at the f=
oot
of Sheep-saddle rock the double arches of waters meet, and fall in one torr=
ent
into the bottomless pool below. But, some three fathoms from this point of =
the
meeting waters, and beneath it, just where the curve is deepest, a single c=
rag,
as large as a drinking-table and no larger, juts through the foam, and, if a
man could reach it, he might leap from it some twelve fathoms, sheer into t=
he spray-hidden
pit beneath, there to sink or swim as it might befall. This crag is called
Wolf's Fang.
Now Eric stood fo=
r a
long while on the edge of the fall and looked, measuring every thing with h=
is
eye. Then he went up above, where the river swirls down to the precipice, a=
nd
looked again, for it is from this bank that the dividing island-rock
Sheep-saddle must be reached.
"A man may
hardly do this thing; yet I will try it," he said to himself at last.
"My honour shall be great for the feat, if I chance to live, and if I
die--well, there is an end of troubling after maids and all other things.&q=
uot;
So he went home a=
nd
sat silent that evening. Now, since Thorgrimur Iron-Toe's death, his housew=
ife,
Saevuna, Eric's mother, had grown dim of sight, and, though she peered and
peered again from her seat in the ingle nook, she could not see the face of=
her
son.
"What ails t=
hee,
Eric, that thou sittest so silent? Was not the meat, then, to thy mind at
supper?"
"Yes, mother,
the meat was well enough, though a little undersmoked."
"Now I see t=
hat
thou art not thyself, son, for thou hadst no meat, but only stock-fish--and=
I
never knew a man forget his supper on the night of its eating, except he was
distraught or deep in love."
"Was it
so?" said Brighteyes.
"What troubl=
es
thee, Eric?--that sweet lass yonder?"
"Ay, somewha=
t,
mother."
"What more,
then?"
"This, that =
I go
down Golden Falls to-morrow, and I do not know how I may come from Sheep-sa=
ddle
rock to Wolf's Fang crag and keep my life whole in me; and now, I pray thee,
weary me not with words, for my brain is slow, and I must use it."
When she heard th=
is
Saevuna screamed aloud, and threw herself before Eric, praying him to forgo=
his
mad venture. But he would not listen to her, for he was slow to make up his
mind, but, that being made up, nothing could change it. Then, when she lear=
ned
that it was to get sight of Gudruda that he purposed thus to throw his life
away, she was very angry and cursed her and all her kith and kin.
"It is likely
enough that thou wilt have cause to use such words before all this tale is
told," said Eric; "nevertheless, mother, forbear to curse Gudruda,
who is in no way to blame for these matters."
"Thou art a
faithless son," Saevuna said, "who wilt slay thyself striving to =
win
speech with thy May, and leave thy mother childless."
Eric said that it
seemed so indeed, but he was plighted to it and the feat must be tried. The=
n he
kissed her, and she sought her bed, weeping.
Now it was the da=
y of
the Yule-feast, and there was no sun till one hour before noon. But Eric,
having kissed his mother and bidden her farewell, called a thrall, Jon by n=
ame,
and giving him a sealskin bag full of his best apparel, bade him ride to
Middalhof and tell Asmund the Priest that Eric Brighteyes would come down
Golden Falls an hour after mid-day, to join his feast; and thence go to the
foot of the Golden Falls, to await him there. And the man went, wondering, =
for
he thought his master mad.
Then Eric took a =
good
rope, and a staff tipped with iron, and, so soon as the light served, mount=
ed
his horse, forded Ran River, and rode along Coldback till he came to the li=
p of
Golden Falls. Here he stayed a while till at length he saw many people
streaming up the snow from Middalhof far beneath, and, among them, two women
who by their stature should be Gudruda and Swanhild, and, near to them, a g=
reat
man whom he did not know. Then he showed himself for a space on the brink of
the gulf and turned his horse up stream. The sun shone bright upon the edge=
of the
sky, but the frost bit like a sword. Still, he must strip off his garments,=
so
that nothing remained on him except his sheepskin shoes, shirt and hose, and
take the water. Now here the river runs mightily, and he must cross full th=
irty
fathoms of the swirling water before he can reach Sheep-saddle, and woe to =
him
if his foot slip on the boulders, for certainly he must be swept over the
brink.
Eric rested the s=
taff
against the stony bottom and, leaning his weight on it, took the stream, an=
d he
was so strong that it could not prevail against him till at length he was
rather more than half-way across and the water swept above his shoulders. N=
ow
he was lifted from his feet and, letting the staff float, he swam for his l=
ife,
and with such mighty strokes that he felt little of that icy cold. Down he =
was
swept--now the lip of the fall was but three fathoms away on his left, and
already the green water boiled beneath him. A fathom from him was the corne=
r of
Sheep-saddle. If he may grasp it, all is well; if not, he dies.
Three great strok=
es
and he held it. His feet were swept out over the brink of the fall, but he
clung on grimly, and by the strength of his arms drew himself on to the rock
and rested a while. Presently he stood up, for the cold began to nip him, a=
nd
the people below became aware that he had swum the river above the fall and
raised a shout, for the deed was great. Now Eric must begin to clamber down
Sheep-saddle, and this was no easy task, for the rock is almost sheer, and
slippery with ice, and on either side the waters rushed and thundered, thro=
wing
their blinding spray about him as they leapt to the depths beneath. He look=
ed down,
studying the rock; then, feeling that he grew afraid, made an end of doubt =
and,
grasping a point with both hands, swung himself down his own length and mor=
e.
Now for many minutes he climbed down Sheep-saddle, and the task was hard, f=
or
he was bewildered with the booming of the waters that bent out on either si=
de
of him like the arc of a bow, and the rock was very steep and slippery. Sti=
ll,
he came down all those fifteen fathoms and fell not, though twice he was ne=
ar
to falling, and the watchers below marvelled greatly at his hardihood.
"He will be
dashed to pieces where the waters meet," said Ospakar, "he can ne=
ver
gain Wolf's Fang crag beneath; and, if so it be that he come there and leap=
s to
the pool, the weight of water will drive him down and drown him."
"It is certa=
inly
so," quoth Asmund, "and it grieves me much; for it was my jest th=
at
drove him to this perilous adventure, and we cannot spare such a man as Eric
Brighteyes."
Now Swanhild turn=
ed
white as death; but Gudruda said: "If great heart and strength and ski=
ll
may avail at all, then Eric shall come safely down the waters."
"Thou
fool!" whispered Swanhild in her ear, "how can these help him? No=
troll
could live in yonder cauldron. Dead is Eric, and thou art the bait that lur=
ed
him to his death!"
"Spare thy
words," she answered; "as the Norns have ordered so it shall be.&=
quot;
Now Eric stood at=
the
foot of Sheep-saddle, and within an arm's length the mighty waters met, tos=
sing
their yellow waves and seething furiously as they leapt to the mist-hid gulf
beneath. He bent over and looked through the spray. Three fathoms under him=
the
rock Wolf's Fang split the waters, and thence, if he can come thither, he m=
ay
leap sheer into the pool below. Now he unwound the rope that was about his
middle, and made one end fast to a knob of rock--and this was difficult, for
his hands were stiff with cold--and the other end he passed through his lea=
thern
girdle. Then Eric looked again, and his heart sank within him. How might he
give himself to this boiling flood and not be shattered? But as he looked, =
lo!
a rainbow grew upon the face of the water, and one end of it lit upon him, =
and
the other, like a glory from the Gods, fell full upon Gudruda as she stood a
little way apart, watching at the foot of Golden Falls.
"Seest thou
that," said Asmund to Groa, who was at his side, "the Gods build
their Bifrost bridge between these two. Who now shall keep them asunder?&qu=
ot;
"Read the
portent thus," she answered: "they shall be united, but not here.=
Yon
is a Spirit bridge, and, see: the waters of Death foam and fall between
them!"
Eric, too, saw the
omen and it seemed good to him, and all fear left his heart. Round about him
the waters thundered, but amidst their roar he dreamed that he heard a voice
calling:
"Be of good
cheer, Eric Brighteyes; for thou shalt live to do mightier deeds than this,=
and
in guerdon thou shalt win Gudruda."
So he paused no
longer, but, shortening up the rope, pulled on it with all his strength, and
then leapt out upon the arch of waters. They struck him and he was dashed o=
ut
like a stone from a sling; again he fell against them and again was dashed
away, so that his girdle burst. Eric felt it go and clung wildly to the rope
and lo! with the inward swing, he fell on Wolf's Fang, where never a man has
stood before and never a man shall stand again. Eric lay a little while on =
the
rock till his breath came back to him, and he listened to the roar of the
waters. Then, rising on his hands and knees, he crept to its point, for he
could scarcely stand because of the trembling of the stone beneath the shoc=
k of
the fall; and when the people below saw that he was not dead, they raised a
great shout, and the sound of their voices came to him through the noise of=
the
waters.
Now, twelve fatho=
ms
beneath him was the surface of the pool; but he could not see it because of=
the
wreaths of spray. Nevertheless, he must leap and that swiftly, for he grew
cold. So of a sudden Eric stood up to his full height, and, with a loud cry=
and
a mighty spring, bounded out from the point of Wolf's Fang far into the air,
beyond the reach of the falling flood, and rushed headlong towards the gulf
beneath. Now all men watching held their breath as his body travelled, and =
so
great is the place and so high the leap that through the mist Eric seemed b=
ut
as a big white stone hurled down the face of the arching waters.
He was gone, and =
the
watchers rushed down to the foot of the pool, for there, if he rose at all,=
he
must pass to the shallows. Swanhild could look no more, but sank upon the
ground. The face of Gudruda was set like a stone with doubt and anguish.
Ospakar saw and read the meaning, and he said to himself: "Now Odin gr=
ant
that this youngling rise not again! for the maid loves him dearly, and he is
too much a man to be lightly swept aside."
Eric struck the p=
ool.
Down he sank, and down and down--for the water falling from so far must alm=
ost
reach the bottom of the pool before it can rise again--and he with it. Now =
he
touched the bottom, but very gently, and slowly began to rise, and, as he r=
ose,
was carried along by the stream. But it was long before he could breathe, a=
nd
it seemed to him that his lungs would burst. Still, he struggled up, striki=
ng
great strokes with his legs.
"Farewell to
Eric," said Asmund, "he will rise no more now."
But just as he sp=
oke
Gudruda pointed to something that gleamed, white and golden, beneath the
surface of the current, and lo! the bright hair of Eric rose from the water,
and he drew a great breath, shaking his head like a seal, and, though but
feebly, struck out for the shallows that are at the foot of the pool. Now he
found footing, but was swept over by the fierce current, and cut his forehe=
ad,
and he carried that scar till his death. Again he rose, and with a rush gai=
ned
the bank unaided and fell upon the snow.
Now people gather=
ed
about him in silence and wondering, for none had known so great a deed. And
presently Eric opened his eyes and looked up, and found the eyes of Gudruda
fixed on his, and there was that in them which made him glad he had dared t=
he
path of Golden Falls.
=
V - HOW ERIC WON THE SWOR=
D WHITEFIRE
Now Asmund the pr=
iest
bent down, and Eric saw him and spoke:
"Thou badest=
me
to thy Yule-feast, lord, by yonder slippery road and I have come. Dost thou
welcome me well?"
"No man
better," quoth Asmund. "Thou art a gallant man, though foolhardy;=
and
thou hast done a deed that shall be told of while skalds sing and men live =
in
Iceland."
"Make place,=
my
father," said Gudruda, "for Eric bleeds." And she loosed the
kerchief from her neck and bound it about his wounded brow, and, taking the
rich cloak from her body, threw it on his shoulders, and no man said her na=
y.
Then they led him=
to
the hall, where Eric clothed himself and rested, and he sent back the thrall
Jon to Coldback, bidding him tell Saevuna, Eric's mother, that he was safe.=
But
he was somewhat weak all that day, and the sound of waters roared in his ea=
rs.
Now Ospakar and G=
roa
were ill pleased at the turn things had taken; but all the others rejoiced
much, for Eric was well loved of men and they had grieved if the waters had
prevailed against his might. But Swanhild brooded bitterly, for Eric never
turned to look on her.
The hour of the f=
east
drew on and, according to custom, it was held in the Temple, and thither we=
nt
all men. When they were seated in the nave of the Hof, the fat ox that had =
been
made ready for sacrifice was led in and dragged before the altar on which t=
he
holy fire burned. Now Asmund the Priest slew it, amid silence, before the
figures of the Gods, and, catching its blood in the blood-bowl, sprinkled t=
he
altar and all the worshippers with the blood-twigs. Then the ox was cut up,=
and
the figures of the almighty Gods were anointed with its molten fat and wipe=
d with
fair linen. Next the flesh was boiled in the cauldrons that were hung over
fires lighted all down the nave, and the feast began.
Now men ate, and
drank much ale and mead, and all were merry. But Ospakar Blacktooth grew not
glad, though he drank much, for he saw that the eyes of Gudruda ever watched
Eric's face and that they smiled on each other. He was wroth at this, for he
knew that the bait must be good and the line strong that should win this fa=
ir
fish to his angle, and as he sat, unknowingly his fingers loosed the
peace-strings of his sword Whitefire, and he half drew it, so that its
brightness flamed in the firelight.
"Thou hast a
wondrous blade there, Ospakar!" said Asmund, "though this is no p=
lace
to draw it. Whence came it? Methinks no such swords are fashioned now."=
;
"Ay, Asmund,=
a
wondrous blade indeed. There is no other such in the world, for the dwarfs
forged it of old, and he shall be unconquered who holds it aloft. This was =
King
Odin's sword, and it is named Whitefire. Ralph the Red took it from King Er=
ic's
cairn in Norway, and he strove long with the Barrow-Dweller[*] before he
wrenched it from his grasp. But my father won it and slew Ralph, though he =
had
never done this had Whitefire been aloft against him. But Ralph the Red, be=
ing
in drink when the ships met in battle, fought with an axe, and was slain by=
my
father, and since then Whitefire has been the last light that many a chief'=
s eyes
have seen. Look at it, Asmund."
[*] The ghost in =
the
cairn.
Now he drew the g=
reat
sword, and men were astonished as it flashed aloft. Its hilt was of gold, a=
nd
blue stones were set therein. It measured two ells and a half from crossbar=
to
point, and so bright was the broad blade that no one could look on it for l=
ong,
and all down its length ran runes.
"A wondrous
weapon, truly!" said Asmund. "How read the runes?"
"I know not,=
nor
any man--they are ancient."
"Let me look=
at
them," said Groa, "I am skilled in runes." Now she took the
sword, and heaved it up, and looked at the runes and said, "A strange
writing truly."
"How runs it,
housekeeper?" said Asmund.
"Thus, lord,=
if
my skill is not at fault:--
"Whitefire is my name-- Dwarf-folk forged me-- Odin's sword was I-- Eric's sword was I-- Eric's sword shall I be-- And where I fall there he must follow
me."
Now Gudruda looke=
d at
Eric Brighteyes wonderingly, and Ospakar saw it and became very angry.
"Look not so,
maiden," he said, "for it shall be another Eric than yon flapper-=
duck
who holds Whitefire aloft, though it may very well chance that he shall feel
its edge."
Now Gudruda bit h=
er
lip, and Eric burned red to the brow and spoke:
"It is ill,
lord, to throw taunts like an angry woman. Thou art great and strong, yet I=
may
dare a deed with thee."
"Peace, boy!
Thou canst climb a waterfall well, I gainsay it not; but beware ere thou
settest up thyself against my strength. Say now, what game wilt thou play w=
ith
Ospakar?"
"I will go on
holmgang with thee, byrnie-clad or baresark,[*] and fight thee with axe or
sword, or I will wrestle with thee, and Whitefire yonder shall be the winne=
r's
prize."
[*] To a duel, usually fought, in ma=
il or
without it, on an island--"holm"--within a c=
ircle
of hazel-twigs.
"Nay, I will
have no bloodshed here at Middalhof," said Asmund sternly. "Make =
play
with fists, or wrestle if ye will, for that were great sport to see; but
weapons shall not be drawn."
Now Ospakar grew =
mad
with anger and drink--and he grinned like a dog, till men saw the red gums
beneath his lips.
"Thou wilt
wrestle with me, youngling--with m=
e whom no man has ever so much as lifted f=
rom my
feet? Good! I will lay thee on thy face and whip thee, and Whitefire shall =
be
the stake--I swear it on the holy altar-ring; but what hast thou to set aga=
inst
the precious sword? Thy poor hovel and its lot of land shall be all too
little."
"I set my li=
fe
on it; if I lose Whitefire let Whitefire slay me," said Eric.
"Nay, that I
will not have, and I am master here in this Temple," said Asmund.
"Bethink thee of some other stake, Ospakar, or let the game be off.&qu=
ot;
Now Ospakar gnawed
his lip with his black fang and thought. Then he laughed aloud and spoke:
"Bright is
Whitefire and thou art named Brighteyes. See now: I set the great sword aga=
inst
thy right eye, and, if I win the match, it shall be mine to tear it out. Wi=
lt
thou play this game with me? If thy heart fails thee, let it go; but I will=
set
no other stake against my good sword."
"Eyes and li=
mbs
are a poor man's wealth," said Eric: "so be it. I stake my right =
eye
against the sword Whitefire, and we will try the match to-morrow."
"And to-morr=
ow
night thou shalt be called Eric One-eye," said Ospakar--at which some =
few
of his thralls laughed.
But most of the m=
en
did not laugh, for they thought this an ill game and a worst jest.
Now the feast went
on, and Asmund rose from his high seat in the centre of the nave, on the le=
ft
hand looking down from the altar, and gave out the holy toasts. First men d=
rank
a full horn to Odin, praying for triumph on their foes. Then they drank to
Frey, asking for plenty; to Thor, for strength in battle; to Freya, Goddess=
of
Love (and to her Eric drank heartily); to the memory of the dead; and, last=
of
all, to Bragi, God of all delight. When this cup was drunk, Asmund rose aga=
in, according
to custom, and asked if none had an oath to swear as to some deed that shou=
ld
be done.
For a while there=
was
no answer, but presently Eric Brighteyes stood up.
"Lord,"=
he
said, "I would swear an oath."
"Set forth t=
he
matter, then," said Asmund.
"It is
this," quoth Eric. "On Mosfell mountain, over by Hecla, dwells a =
Baresark
of whom all men have ill knowledge, for there are few whom he has not harme=
d.
His name is Skallagrim; he is a mighty man and he has wrought much mischief=
in
the south country, and brought many to their deaths and robbed more of their
goods: for none can prevail against him. Still, I swear this, that, when the
days lengthen, I will go up alone against him and challenge him to battle, =
and
conquer him or fall."
"Then, thou
yellow-headed puppy-dog, thou shalt go with one eye against a Baresark with
two," growled Ospakar.
Men took no heed =
of
his words, but shouted aloud, for Skallagrim had plagued them long, and the=
re
were none who dared to fight with him any more. Only Gudruda looked askance,
for it seemed to her that Eric swore too fast. Nevertheless he went up to t=
he
altar, and, taking hold of the holy ring, he set his foot on the holy stone=
and
swore his oath, while the feasters applauded, striking their cups upon the
board.
And after that the
feast went merrily, till all men were drunk, except Asmund and Eric.
Now Eric went to
rest, but first he rubbed his limbs with the fat of seals, for he was still
sore with the beating of the waters, and they must needs be supple on the
morrow if he would keep his eye. Then he slept sound, and rose strong and w=
ell,
and going to the stream behind the stead, bathed, and anointed his limbs
afresh. But Ospakar did not sleep well, because of the ale that he had drun=
k.
Now as Eric came back from bathing, in the dark of the morning, he met Gudr=
uda,
who watched for his coming, and, there being none to see, he kissed her oft=
en;
but she chided him because of the match that he had made with Ospakar and t=
he
oath that he had sworn.
"Surely,&quo=
t;
she said, "thou wilt lose thine eye, for this Ospakar is a giant, and
strong as a troll; also he is merciless. Still, thou art a mighty man, and I
shall love thee as well with one eye as with two. Oh! Eric, methought I sho=
uld
have died yesterday when thou didst leap from Wolf's Fang! My heart seemed =
to
stop within me."
"Yet I came
safely to shore, sweetheart, and well does this kiss pay for all I did. And=
as
for Ospakar, if but once I get these arms about him, I fear him little, or =
any
man, and I covet that sword of his greatly. But we can talk more certainly =
of
these things to-morrow."
Now Gudruda clung=
to
him and told him all that had befallen, and of the doings and words of
Swanhild.
"She honours=
me
beyond my worth," he said, "who am in no way set on her, but on t=
hee
only, Gudruda."
"Art thou so
sure of that, Eric? Swanhild is fair and wise."
"Ay and evil.
When I love Swanhild, then thou mayest love Ospakar."
"It is a
bargain," she said, laughing. "Good luck go with thee in the wres=
tling,"
and with a kiss she left him, fearing lest she should be seen.
Eric went back to=
the
hall, and sat down by the centre hearth, for all men slept, being still hea=
vy
with drink, and presently Swanhild glided up to him, and greeted him.
"Thou art gr=
eedy
of deeds, Eric," she said. "Yesterday thou camest here by a path =
that
no man has travelled, to-day thou dost wrestle with a giant for thine eye, =
and
presently thou goest up against Skallagrim!"
"It seems th=
at
this is true," said Eric.
"Now all this
thou doest for a woman who is the betrothed of another man."
"All this I =
do
for fame's sake, Swanhild. Moreover, Gudruda is betrothed to none."
"Before anot=
her
Yule-feast is spread, Gudruda shall be the wife of Ospakar."
"That is yet=
to
be seen, Swanhild."
Now Swanhild stood
silent for a while and then spoke: "Thou art a fool, Eric--yes, drunk =
with
folly. Nothing but evil shall come to thee from this madness of thine. Forg=
et
it and pluck that which lies to thine hand," and she looked sweetly at
him.
"They call t=
hee
Swanhild the Fatherless," he answered, "but I think that Loki, the
God of Guile, was thy father, for there is none to match thee in craft and =
evil-doing,
and in beauty one only. I know thy plots well and all the sorrow that thou =
hast
brought upon us. Still, each seeks honour after his own manner, so seek tho=
u as
thou wilt; but thou shalt find bitterness and empty days, and thy plots sha=
ll
come back on thine own head--yes, even though they bring Gudruda and me to
sorrow and death."
Swanhild laughed.
"A day shall dawn, Eric, when thou who dost hate me shalt hold me dear,
and this I promise thee. Another thing I promise thee also: that Gudruda sh=
all never
call thee husband."
But Eric did not
answer, fearing lest in his anger he should say words that were better
unspoken.
Now men rose and =
sat
down to meat, and all talked of the wrestling that should be. But in the
morning Ospakar repented of the match, for it is truly said that ale is another man , and men do not like=
that
in the morning which seemed well enough on yester eve. He remembered that h=
e held
Whitefire dear above all things, and that Eric's eye had no worth to him,
except that the loss of it would spoil his beauty, so that perhaps Gudruda
would turn from him. It would be very ill if he should chance to lose the
play--though of this he had no fear, for he was held the strongest man in
Iceland and the most skilled in all feats of strength--and, at the best, no
fame is to be won from the overthrow of a deedless man, and the plucking ou=
t of
his eye. Thus it came to pass that when he saw Eric he called to him in a b=
ig
voice:
"Hearken, th=
ou
Eric."
"I hear thee,
thou Ospakar," said Eric, mocking him, and people laughed; while Ospak=
ar
grinned angrily and said, "Thou must learn manners, puppy. Still, I sh=
all
find no honour in teaching thee in this wise. Last night we made a match in=
our
cups, and I staked my sword Whitefire and thou thine eye. It would be bad t=
hat
either of us should lose sword or eye; therefore, what sayest thou, shall we
let it pass?"
"Ay, Blackto=
oth,
if thou fearest; but first pay thou forfeit of the sword."
Now Ospakar grew =
very
mad and shouted, "Thou wilt indeed stand against me in the ring! I will
break thy back anon, youngster, and afterwards tear out thine eye before th=
ou
diest."
"It may so
befall," answered Eric, "but big words do not make big deeds.&quo=
t;
Presently the lig=
ht
came and thralls went out with spades and cleared away the snow in a circle=
two
rods across, and brought dry sand and sprinkled it on the frozen turf, so t=
hat
the wrestlers should not slip. And they piled the snow in a wall around the
ring.
But Groa came up =
to
Ospakar and spoke to him apart.
"Knowest tho=
u,
lord," she said, "that my heart bodes ill of this match? Eric is a
mighty man, and, great though thou art, I think that thou shalt lout low be=
fore
him."
"It will be a
bad business if I am overthrown by an untried man," said Ospakar, and =
was
troubled in his mind, "and it would be evil moreover to lose the sword.
For no price would I have it so."
"What wilt t=
hou
give me, lord, if I bring thee victory?"
"I will give
thee two hundred in silver."
"Ask no
questions and it shall be so," said Groa.
Now Eric was with=
out,
taking note of the ground in the ring, and presently Groa called to her the
thrall Koll the Half-witted, whom she had sent to Swinefell.
"See," =
she
said, "yonder by the wall stand the wrestling shoes of Eric Brighteyes.
Haste thee now and take grease, and rub the soles with it, then hold them in
the heat of the fire, so that the fat sinks in. Do this swiftly and secretl=
y,
and I will give thee three pennies."
Koll grinned, and=
did
as he was bid, setting back the shoes just as they were before. Scarcely was
the deed done when Eric came in, and made himself ready for the game, bindi=
ng
the greased shoes upon his feet, for he feared no trick.
Now everybody went
out to the ring, and Ospakar and Eric stripped for wrestling. They were cla=
d in
tight woollen jerkins and hose, and sheep-skin shoes were on their feet.
They named Asmund
master of the game, and his word must be law to both of them. Eric claimed =
that
Asmund should hold the sword Whitefire that was at stake, but Ospakar gains=
aid
him, saying that if he gave Whitefire into Asmund's keeping, Eric must also
give his eye--and about this they debated hotly. Now the matter was brought
before Asmund as umpire, and he gave judgment for Eric, "for," he
said, "if Eric yield up his eye into my hand, I can return it to his h=
ead
no more if he should win; but if Ospakar gives me the good sword and conque=
rs,
it is easy for me to pass it back to him unharmed."
Men said that this
was a good judgment.
Thus then was the
arm-game set. Ospakar and Eric must wrestle thrice, and between each bout t=
here
would be a space while men could count a thousand. They might strike no blo=
w at
one another with hand, or head, or elbow, foot or knee; and it should be
counted no fall if the haunch and the head of the fallen were not on the gr=
ound
at the self-same time. He who suffered two falls should be adjudged conquer=
ed
and lose his stake.
Asmund called the=
se
rules aloud in the presence of witnesses, and Ospakar and Eric said that sh=
ould
bind them. Ospakar drew a small knife and gave it to his son Gizur to hold.=
"Thou shalt =
soon
know, youngling, how steel tastes in the eyeball," he said.
"We shall so=
on
know many things," Eric answered.
Now they drew off
their cloaks and stood in the ring. Ospakar was great beyond the bigness of=
men
and his arms were clothed with black hair like the limbs of a goat. Beneath=
the
shoulder joint they were almost as thick as a girl's thigh. His legs also w=
ere
mighty, and the muscles stood out upon him in knotty lumps. He seemed a very
giant, and fierce as a Baresark, but still somewhat round about the body and
heavy in movement.
From him men look=
ed
at Eric.
"Lo! Baldur =
and
the Troll!" said Swanhild, and everybody laughed, since so it was inde=
ed;
for, if Ospakar was black and hideous as a troll, Eric was beautiful as Bal=
dur,
the loveliest of the Gods. He was taller than Ospakar by the half of a hand=
and
as broad in the chest. Still, he was not yet come to his greatest strength,
and, though his limbs were well knit, they seemed but as a child's against =
the
limbs of Ospakar. But he was quick as a cat and lithe, his neck and arms we=
re
white as whey, and beneath his golden hair his bright eyes shone like spear=
s.
Now they stood fa=
ce
to face, with arms outstretched, waiting the word of Asmund. He gave it and
they circled round each other with arms held low. Presently Ospakar made a =
rush
and, seizing Eric about the middle, tried to lift him, but with no avail.
Thrice he strove and failed, then Eric moved his foot and lo! it slipped up=
on
the sanded turf. Again Eric moved and again he slipped, a third time and he
slipped a third time, and before he could recover himself he was full on his
back and fairly thrown.
Gudruda saw and w=
as
sad at heart, and those around her said that it was easy to know how the ga=
me would
end.
"What said
I?" quoth Swanhild, "that it would go badly with Eric were Ospaka=
r's
arms about him."
"All is not =
done
yet," answered Gudruda. "Methinks Eric's feet slipped most strang=
ely,
as though he stood on ice."
But Eric was very
sore at heart and could make nothing of this matter--for he was not overthr=
own
by strength.
He sat on the snow
and Ospakar and his sons mocked him. But Gudruda drew near and whispered to=
him
to be of good cheer, for fortune might yet change.
"I think tha=
t I
am bewitched," said Eric sadly: "my feet have no hold of the
ground."
Gudruda covered h=
er
eyes with her hand and thought. Presently she looked up quickly. "I se=
em
to see guile here," she said. "Now look narrowly on thy shoes.&qu=
ot;
He heard, and,
loosening his shoe-string, drew a shoe from his foot and looked at the sole.
The cold of the snow had hardened the fat, and there it was, all white upon=
the
leather.
Now Eric rose in
wrath. "Methought," he cried, "that I dealt with men of
honourable mind, not with cheating tricksters. See now! it is little wonder
that I slipped, for grease has been set upon my shoes--and, by Thor! I will
cleave the man who did it to the chin," and as he said it his eyes bla=
zed
so dreadfully that folk fell back from him. Asmund took the shoes and looke=
d at
them. Then he spoke:
"Brighteyes
tells the truth, and we have a sorry knave among us. Ospakar, canst thou cl=
ear
thyself of this ill deed?"
"I will swea=
r on
the holy ring that I know nothing of it, and if any man in my company has h=
ad a
hand therein he shall die," said Ospakar.
"That we will
swear also," cried his sons Gizur and Mord.
"This is more
like a woman's work," said Gudruda, and she looked at Swanhild.
"It is no wo=
rk
of mine," quoth Swanhild.
"Then go and=
ask
thy mother of it," answered Gudruda.
Now all men cried
aloud that this was the greatest shame, and that the match must be set afre=
sh;
only Ospakar bethought him of that two hundred in silver which he had promi=
sed
to Groa, and looked around, but she was not there. Still, he gainsaid Eric =
in
the matter of the match being set afresh.
Then Eric cried o=
ut
in his anger that he would let the game stand as it was, since Ospakar swore
himself free of the shameful deed. Men thought this a mad saying, but Asmund
said it should be so. Still, he swore in his heart that, even if he were
worsted, Eric should not lose his eye--no not if swords were held aloft to =
take
it. For of all tricks this seemed to him the very worst.
Now Ospakar and E=
ric
faced each other again in the ring, but this time the feet of Eric were bar=
e.
Ospakar rushed to=
get
the upper hold, but Eric was too swift for him and sprang aside. Again he
rushed, but Eric dropped and gripped him round the middle. Now they were fa=
ce
to face, hugging each other like bears, but moving little. For a time things
went thus, while Ospakar strove to lift Eric, but in nowise could he stir h=
im.
Then of a sudden Eric put out his strength, and they staggered round the ri=
ng,
tearing at each other till their jerkins were rent from them, leaving them
almost bare to the waist. Suddenly, Eric seemed to give, and Ospakar put out
his foot to trip him. But Brighteyes was watching. He caught the foot in the
crook of his left leg, and threw his weight forward on the chest of Blackto=
oth.
Backward he went, falling with the thud of a tree on snow, and there he lay=
on
the ground, and Eric over him.
Then men shouted
"A fall! a fair fall!" and were very glad, for the fight seemed m=
ost
uneven to them, and the wrestlers rolled asunder, breathing heavily.
Gudruda threw a c=
loak
over Eric's naked shoulders.
"That was we=
ll
done, Brighteyes," she said.
"The game is
still to play, sweet," he gasped, "and Ospakar is a mighty man. I
threw him by skill, not by strength. Next time it must be by strength or no=
t at
all."
Now breathing-time
was done, and once more the two were face to face. Thrice Ospakar rushed, a=
nd
thrice did Eric slip away, for he would waste Blacktooth's strength. Again
Ospakar rushed, roaring like a bear, and fire seemed to come from his eyes,=
and
the steam went up from him and hung upon the frosty air like the steam of a
horse. This time Eric could not get away, but was swept up into that great
grip, for Ospakar had the lower hold.
"Now there i=
s an
end of Eric," said Swanhild.
"The arrow is
yet on the bow," answered Gudruda.
Blacktooth put out
his might and reeled round and round the ring, dragging Eric with him. This=
way
and that he twisted, and time on time Eric's leg was lifted from the ground,
but so he might not be thrown. Now they stood almost still, while men shout=
ed
madly, for no such wrestling had been known in the southlands. Grimly they
hugged and strove: forsooth it was a mighty sight to see. Grimly they hugge=
d,
and their muscles strained and cracked, but they could stir each other no i=
nch.
Ospakar grew fear=
ful,
for he could make no play with this youngling. Black rage swelled in his he=
art.
He ground his fangs, and thought on guile. By his foot gleamed the naked fo=
ot
of Eric. Suddenly he stamped on it so fiercely that the skin burst.
"Ill done! i=
ll
done!" folk cried; but in his pain Eric moved his foot.
Lo! he was down, =
but
not altogether down, for he did but sit upon his haunches, and still he clu=
ng
to Blacktooth's thighs, and twined his legs about his ankles. Now with all =
his
strength Ospakar strove to force the head of Brighteyes to the ground, but
still he could not, for Eric clung to him like a creeper to a tree.
"A losing ga=
me
for Eric," said Asmund, and as he spoke Brighteyes was pressed back ti=
ll
his yellow hair almost swept the sand.
Then the folk of
Ospakar shouted in triumph, but Gudruda cried aloud:
"Be not
overthrown, Eric; loose thee and spring aside."
Eric heard, and o=
f a
sudden loosed all his grip. He fell on his outspread hand, then, with a swi=
ng
sideways and a bound, once more he stood upon his feet. Ospakar came at him
like a bull made mad with goading, but he could no longer roar aloud. They
closed and this time Eric had the better hold. For a while they struggled r=
ound
and round till their feet tore the frozen turf, then once more they stood f=
ace to
face. Now the two were almost spent; yet Blacktooth gathered up his strength
and swung Eric from his feet, but he found them again. He grew mad with rag=
e,
and hugged him till Brighteyes was nearly pressed to death, and black bruis=
es
sprang upon the whiteness of his flesh. Ospakar grew mad, and madder yet, t=
ill
at length in his fury he fixed his fangs in Eric's shoulder and bit till the
blood spurted.
"Ill kissed,
thou rat!" gasped Eric, and with the pain and rush of blood, his stren=
gth
came back to him. He shifted his grip swiftly, now his right hand was benea=
th
the fork of Blacktooth's thigh and his left on the hollow of Blacktooth's b=
ack.
Twice he lifted--twice the bulk of Ospakar rose from the ground--a third mi=
ghty
lift--so mighty that the wrapping on Eric's forehead burst, and the blood
streamed down his face--and lo! great Blacktooth flew in air. Up he flew, a=
nd
backward he fell into the bank of snow, and was buried there almost to the
knees.
=
VI - HOW ASMUND THE PRIEST
WAS BETROTHED TO UNNA
For a moment there
was silence, for all that company was wonderstruck at the greatness of the
deed. Then they cheered and cheered again, and to Eric it seemed that he sl=
ept,
and the sound of shouting reached him but faintly, as though he heard throu=
gh
snow. Suddenly he woke and saw a man rush at him with axe aloft. It was Mor=
d,
Ospakar's son, mad at his father's overthrow. Eric sprang aside, or the blow
had been his bane, and, as he sprang, smote with his fist, and it struck he=
avily
on the head of Mord above the ear, so that the axe flew from his hand, and =
he fell
senseless on his father in the snow.
Now swords flashed
out, and men ringed round Eric to guard him, and it came near to the spilli=
ng
of blood, for the people of Ospakar gnashed their teeth to see so great a h=
ero
overthrown by a youngling, while the southern folk of Middalhof and Ran Riv=
er
rejoiced loudly, for Eric was dear to their hearts.
"Down
swords," cried Asmund the priest, "and haul yon carcass from the =
snow."
This then they di=
d,
and Ospakar sat up, breathing in great gasps, the blood running from his mo=
uth
and ears, and he was an evil sight to see, for what with blood and snow and
rage his face was like the face of the Swinefell Goblin.
But Swanhild spok=
e in
the ear of Gudruda:
"Here,"=
she
said, looking at Eric, "we two have a man worth loving, foster-sister.=
"
"Ay,"
answered Gudruda, "worth and well worth!"
Now Asmund drew n=
ear
and before all men kissed Eric Brighteyes on the brow.
"In sooth,&q=
uot;
he said, "thou art a mighty man, Eric, and the glory of the south. Thi=
s I
prophesy of thee: that thou shalt do deeds such as have not been done in
Iceland. Thou hast ill been served, for a knave unknown greased thy shoes. =
Yon
swarthy Ospakar, the most mighty of all men in Iceland, could not overthrow
thee, though, like a wolf, he fastened his fangs in thee, and, like a cowar=
d,
stamped upon thy naked foot. Take thou the great sword that thou hast won a=
nd
wear it worthily."
Now Eric took snow
and wiped the blood from his brow. Then he grasped Whitefire and drew it fr=
om
the scabbard, and high aloft flashed the war-blade. Thrice he wheeled it ro=
und
his head, then sang aloud:
"Fast, yestermorn, down Golden =
Falls,
Fared young Eric to thy feast,=
Asmund, father of Gudruda-- Maid whom much he longs to clasp. But to-day on Giant Blacktooth Hath he done a needful deed: Hurling him in heaped-up snowdrift; =
Winning Whitefire for his wage."=
;
And again he sang=
:
"Lord, if in very truth thou th=
inkest
Brighteyes is a man midst men,=
Swear to him, the stalwart suitor, <=
span
style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'> Handsel of thy sweet maid's hand: Whom, long loved, to win, down Goldf=
oss Swift he sped through frost and foam=
; Whom, to win, to troll-like Ogre, He, 'gainst Whitefire, waged his
eye."
Men thought this =
well
sung, and turned to hear Asmund's answer, nor must they wait long.
"Eric,"=
he
said, "I will promise thee this, that if thou goest on as thou hast be=
gun,
I will give Gudruda in marriage to no other man."
"That is good
tidings, lord," said Eric.
"This I say
further: in a year I will give thee full answer according as to how thou do=
st
bear thyself between now and then, for this is no light gift thou askest; a=
lso
that, if ye will it, you twain may now plight troth, for the blame shall be
yours if it is broken, and not mine, and I give thee my hand on it."
Eric took his han=
d,
and Gudruda heard her father's words and happiness shone in her dark eyes, =
and
she grew faint for very joy. And now Eric turned to her, all torn and bloody
from the fray, the great sword in his hand, and he spoke thus:
"Thou hast h=
eard
thy father's words, Gudruda? Now it seems that there is no great need of
troth-plighting between us two. Still, here before all men I ask thee, if t=
hou
dost love me and art willing to take me to husband?"
Gudruda looked up
into his face, and answered in a sweet, clear voice that could be heard by =
all:
"Eric, I say=
to
thee now, what I have said before, that I love thee alone of all men, and, =
if
it be my father's wish, I will wed no other whilst thou dost remain true to=
me
and hold me dear."
"Those are g=
ood
words," said Eric. "Now, in pledge of them, swear this troth of t=
hine
upon my sword that I have won."
Gudruda smiled, a=
nd,
taking great Whitefire in her hand, she said the words again, and, in pledg=
e of
them, kissed the bright blade.
Then Eric took ba=
ck
the war-sword and spoke thus: "I swear that I will love thee, and thee
only, Gudruda the Fair, Asmund's daughter, whom I have desired all my days;
and, if I fail of this my oath, then our troth is at an end, and thou mayst=
wed
whom thou wilt," and in turn he put his lips upon the sword, while
Swanhild watched them do the oath.
Now Ospakar was
recovered from the fight, and he sat there upon the snow, with bowed head, =
for
he knew well that he had won the greatest shame, and had lost both wife and
sword. Black rage filled his heart as he listened, and he sprang to his fee=
t.
"I came hith=
er,
Asmund," he said, "to ask this maid of thine in marriage, and
methinks that had been a good match for her and thee. But I have been
overthrown by witchcraft of this man in a wrestling-bout, and thereby lost =
my
good sword; and now I must seem to hear him betrothed to the maid before
me."
"Thou hast h=
eard
aright, Ospakar," said Asmund, "and thy wooing is soon sped. Get =
thee
back whence thou camest and seek a wife in thine own quarter, for thou art
unfit in age and aspect to have so sweet a maid. Moreover, here in the sout=
h we
hold men of small account, however great and rich they be, who do not shame=
to
seek to overcome a foe by foul means. With my own eyes I saw thee stamp on =
the
naked foot of Eric, Thorgrimur's son; with my own eyes I saw thee, like a w=
olf,
fasten that black fang of thine upon him--there is the mark of it; and, as =
for
the matter of the greased shoes, thou knowest best what hand thou hadst in =
it."
"I had no ha=
nd.
If any did this thing, it was Groa the Witch, thy Finnish bedmate. For the
rest, I was mad and know not what I did. But hearken, Asmund: ill shall bef=
all
thee and thy house, and I will ever be thy foe. Moreover, I will yet wed th=
is
maid of thine. And now, thou Eric, hearken also: I will have another game w=
ith
thee. This one was but the sport of boys; when we meet again--and the time
shall not be long--swords shall be aloft, and thou shalt learn the play of =
men.
I tell thee that I will slay thee, and tear Gudruda, shrieking, from thy ar=
ms
to be my wife! I tell thee that, with yonder good sword Whitefire, I will y=
et
hew off thy head!"--and he choked and stopped.
"Thou art mu=
ch
foam and little water," said Eric. "These things are easily put to
proof. If thou willest it, to-morrow I will come with thee to a holmgang, a=
nd
there we may set the twigs and finish what we have begun to-day."
"I cannot do
that, for thou hast my sword; and, till I am suited with another weapon, I =
may
fight no holmgang. Still, fear not: we shall soon meet with weapons aloft a=
nd
byrnie on breast."
"Never too s=
oon
can the hour come, Blacktooth," said Eric, and turning on his heel, he
limped to the hall to clothe himself afresh. On the threshold of the men's =
door
he met Groa the Witch.
"Thou didst =
put
grease upon my shoes, carline and witch-hag that thou art," he said.
"It is not t=
rue,
Brighteyes."
"There thou
liest, and for all this I will repay thee. Thou art not yet the wife of Asm=
und,
nor shalt be, for a plan comes into my head about it."
Groa looked at him
strangely. "If thou speakest so, take heed to thy meat and drink,"
she said. "I was not born among the Finns for nothing; and know, I am
still minded to wed Asmund. For thy shoes, I would to the Gods that they we=
re
Hell-shoon, and that I was now binding them on thy dead feet."
"Oh! the cat
begins to spit," said Eric. "But know this: thou mayest grease my
shoes--fit work for a carline!--but thou mayest never bind them on. Thou ar=
t a
witch, and wilt come to the end of witches; and what thy daughter is, that I
will not say," and he pushed past her and entered the hall.
Presently Asmund =
came
to seek Eric there, and prayed him to be gone to his stead on Ran River. The
horses of Ospakar had strayed, and he must stop at Middalhof till they were
found; but, if these two should abide under the same roof, bloodshed would =
come
of it, and that Asmund knew.
Eric said yea to =
this,
and, when he had rested a while, he kissed Gudruda, and, taking a horse, ro=
de
away to Coldback, bearing the sword Whitefire with him, and for a time he s=
aw
no more of Ospakar.
When he came ther=
e,
his mother Saevuna greeted him as one risen from the dead, and hung about h=
is
neck. Then he told her all that had come to pass, and she thought it a
marvellous story, and sorrowed that Thorgrimur, her husband, was not alive =
to
know it. But Eric mused a while, and spoke.
"Mother,&quo=
t;
he said, "now my uncle Thorod of Greenfell is dead, and his daughter, =
my
cousin Unna, has no home. She is a fair woman and skilled in all things. It
comes into my mind that we should bid her here to dwell with us."
"Why, I thou=
ght
thou wast betrothed to Gudruda the Fair," said Saevuna. "Wherefor=
e,
then, wouldst thou bring Unna hither?"
"For this
cause," said Eric; "because it seems that Asmund the Priest weari=
es
of Groa the Witch, and would take another wife, and I wish to draw the bands
between us tighter, if it may befall so."
"Groa will t=
ake
it ill," said Saevuna.
"Things cann=
ot
be worse between us than they are now, therefore I do not fear Groa," =
he
answered.
"It shall be=
as
thou wilt, son; to-morrow we will send to Unna and bid her here, if it plea=
ses
her to come."
Now Ospakar stayed
three more days at Middalhof, till his horses were found, and he was fit to
travel, for Eric had shaken him sorely. But he had no words with Gudruda and
few with Asmund. Still, he saw Swanhild, and she bid him to be of good chee=
r,
for he should yet have Gudruda. For now that the maid had passed from him t=
he
mind of Ospakar was set in winning her. Björn also, Asmund's son, spoke wor=
ds
of good comfort to him, for he envied Eric his great fame, and he thought t=
he
match with Blacktooth would be good. And so at length Ospakar rode away to =
Swinefell
with all his company; but Gizur, his son, left his heart behind.
For Swanhild had =
not
been idle this while. Her heart was sore, but she must follow her ill-natur=
e,
and so she had put out her woman's strength and beguiled Gizur into loving =
her.
But she did not love him at all, and the temper of Asmund the Priest was so
angry that Gizur dared not ask her in marriage. So nothing was said of the
matter.
Now Unna came to Coldback, to dwell with
Saevuna, Eric's mother, and she was a fair and buxom woman. She had been on=
ce
wedded, but within a month of her marriage her husband was lost at sea, this
two years gone. At first Gudruda was somewhat jealous of this coming of Unn=
a to
Coldback; but Eric showed her what was in his mind, and she fell into the p=
lan,
for she hated and feared Groa greatly, and desired to be rid of her.
Since this matter=
of
the greasing of Eric's wrestling-shoes great loathing of Groa had come into
Asmund's mind, and he bethought him often of those words that his wife Gudr=
uda
the Gentle spoke as she lay dying, and grieved that the oath which he swore
then had in part been broken. He would have no more to do with Groa now, bu=
t he
could not be rid of her; and, notwithstanding her evil doings, he still lov=
ed
Swanhild. But Groa grew thin with spite and rage, and wandered about the pl=
ace
glaring with her great black eyes, and people hated her more and more.
Now Asmund went to
visit at Coldback, and there he saw Unna, and was pleased with her, for she=
was
a blithe woman and a bonny. The end of it was that he asked her in marriage=
of
Eric; at which Brighteyes was glad, but said that he must know Unna's mind.
Unna hearkened, and did not say no, for though Asmund was somewhat gone in
years, still he was an upstanding man, wealthy in lands, goods, and moneys =
out
at interest, and having many friends. So they plighted troth, and the
wedding-feast was to be in the autumn after hay-harvest. Now Asmund rode ba=
ck
to Middalhof somewhat troubled at heart, for these tidings must be told to
Groa, and he feared her and her witchcraft. In the hall he found her, stand=
ing alone.
"Where hast =
thou
been, lord?" she asked.
"At
Coldback," he answered.
"To see Unna,
Eric's cousin, perchance?"
"That is
so."
"What is Unn=
a to
thee, then, lord?"
"This much, =
that
after hay-harvest she will be my wife, and that is ill news for thee,
Groa."
Now Groa turned a=
nd
grasped fiercely at the air with her thin hands. Her eyes started out, foam=
was
on her lips, and she shook in her fury like a birch-tree in the wind, looki=
ng
so evil that Asmund drew back a little way, saying:
"Now a veil =
is
lifted from thee and I see thee as thou art. Thou hast cast a glamour over =
me
these many years, Groa, and it is gone."
"Mayhap, Asm=
und
Asmundson--mayhap, thou knowest me; but I tell thee that thou shalt see me =
in a
worse guise before thou weddest Unna. What! have I borne the greatest shame,
lying by thy side these many years, and shall I live to see a rival, young =
and
fair, creep into my place with honour? That I will not while runes have pow=
er
and spells can conjure the evil thing upon thee. I call down ruin on thee a=
nd
thine--yea and on Brighteyes also, for he has brought this thing to pass. D=
eath
take ye all! May thy blood no longer run in mortal veins anywhere on the ea=
rth!
Go down to Hela, Asmund, and be forgotten!" and she began to mutter ru=
nes
swiftly.
Now Asmund turned
white with wrath. "Cease thy evil talk," he said, "or thou s=
halt
be hurled as a witch into Goldfoss pool."
"Into Goldfo=
ss
pool?--yea, there I may lie. I see it!--I seem to see this shape of mine
rolling where the waters boil fiercest--but thine eyes shall never see it! =
Thy eyes are shut, and shut are the eyes of =
Unna,
for ye have gone before!--I do but follow after," and thrice Groa shri=
eked
aloud, throwing up her arms, then fell foaming on the sanded floor.
"An evil wom=
an
and a fey!" said Asmund as he called people to her. "It had been
better for me if I had never seen her dark face."
Now it is to be t=
old
that Groa lay beside herself for ten full days, and Swanhild nursed her. Th=
en
she found her sense again, and craved to see Asmund, and spoke thus to him:=
"It seems to=
me,
lord, if indeed it be aught but a vision of my dreams, that before this
sickness struck me I spoke mad and angry words against thee, because thou h=
ast
plighted troth to Unna, Thorod's daughter."
"That is so,=
in
truth," said Asmund.
"I have to s=
ay
this, then, lord: that most humbly I crave thy pardon for my ill words, and=
ask
thee to put them away from thy mind. Sore heart makes sour speech, and thou
knowest well that, howsoever great my faults, at least I have always loved =
thee
and laboured for thee, and methinks that in some fashion thy fortunes are t=
he
debtor to my wisdom. Therefore when my ears heard that thou hadst of a truth
put me away, and that another woman comes an honoured wife to rule in
Middalhof, my tongue forgot its courtesy, and I spoke words that are of all
words the farthest from my mind. For I know well that I grow old, and have =
put
off that beauty with which I was adorned of yore, and that held thee to me.=
' Carline
' Eric Brighteyes named me, and 'carline' I am--an old hag, no more! Now,
forgive me, and, in memory of all that has been between us, let me creep to=
my
place in the ingle and still watch and serve thee and thine till my service=
is
outworn. Out of Ran's net I came to thee, and, if thou drivest me hence, I =
tell
thee that I will lie down and die upon thy threshold, and when thou sinkest
into eld surely the memory of it shall grieve thee."
Thus she spoke and
wept much, till Asmund's heart softened in him, and, though with a doubting
mind, he said it should be as she willed.
So Groa stayed on=
at
Middalhof, and was lowly in her bearing and soft of speech.
=
VII - HOW ERIC WENT UP
MOSFELL AGAINST SKALLAGRIM THE BARESARK
Now Atli the Good,
earl of the Orkneys, comes into the story.
It chanced that A=
tli
had sailed to Iceland in the autumn on a business about certain lands that =
had
fallen to him in right of his mother Helga, who was an Icelander, and he had
wintered west of Reyjanes. Spring being come, he wished to sail home, and, =
when
his ship was bound, he put to sea full early in the year. But it chanced th=
at
bad weather came up from the south-east, with mist and rain, so he must nee=
ds
beach his ship in a creek under shelter of the Westman Islands.
Now Atli asked wh=
at
people dwelt in these parts, and, when he heard the name of Asmund Asmundson
the Priest, he was glad, for in old days he and Asmund had gone many a viki=
ng
cruise together.
"We will lea=
ve
the ship here," he said, "till the weather clears, and go up to
Middalhof to stay with Asmund."
So they made the =
ship
snug, and left men to watch her; but two of the company, with Earl Atli, ro=
de
up to Middalhof.
It must be told of
Atli that he was the best of the earls who lived in those days, and he ruled
the Orkneys so well that men gave him a by-name and called him Atli the Goo=
d.
It was said of him that he had never turned a poor man away unsuccoured, nor
bowed his head before a strong man, nor drawn his sword without cause, nor
refused peace to him who prayed it. He was sixty years old, but age had left
few marks on him, except that of his long white beard. He was keen-eyed, an=
d well-fashioned
of form and face, a great warrior and the strongest of men. His wife was de=
ad,
leaving him no children, and this was a sorrow to him; but as yet he had ta=
ken
no other wife, for he would say: "Love makes an old man blind," a=
nd
"When age runs with youth, both shall fall," and again, "Mix
grey locks and golden and spoil two heads." For this earl was a man of
many wise sayings.
Now Atli came to
Middalhof just as men sat down to meat and, hearing the clatter of arms, all
sprang to their feet, thinking that perhaps Ospakar had come again as he had
promised. But when Asmund saw Atli he knew him at once, though they had not=
met
for nearly thirty years, and he greeted him lovingly, and put him in the hi=
gh
seat, and gave place to his men upon the cross-benches. Atli told all his
story, and Asmund bade him rest a while at Middalhof till the weather grew
clearer.
Now the Earl saw
Swanhild and thought the maid wondrous fair, and so indeed she was, as she
moved scornfully to and fro in her kirtle of white. Soft was her curling ha=
ir
and deep were her dark blue eyes, and bent were her red lips as is a bow ab=
ove
her dimpled chin, and her teeth shone like pearls.
"Is that fair
maid thy daughter, Asmund," asked Atli.
"She is named
Swanhild the Fatherless," he answered, turning his face away.
"Well,"
said Atli, looking sharply on him, "were the maid sprung from me, she
would not long be called the 'Fatherless,' for few have such a daughter.&qu=
ot;
"She is fair
enough," said Asmund, "in all save temper, and that is bad to
cross."
"In every sw=
ord
a flaw," answers Atli; "but what has an old man to do with young
maids and their beauty?" and he sighed.
"I have known
younger men who would seem less brisk at bridals," said Asmund, and for
that time they talked no more of the matter.
Now, Swanhild hea=
rd
something of this speech, and she guessed more; and it came into her mind t=
hat
it would be the best of sport to make this old man love her, and then to mo=
ck
him and say him nay. So she set herself to the task, as it ever was her won=
t,
and she found it easy. For all day long, with downcast eyes and gentle look=
s,
she waited upon the Earl, and now, at his bidding, she sang to him in a voi=
ce
soft and low, and now she talked so wisely well that Atli thought no such m=
aid
had trod the earth before. But he checked himself with many learned saws, a=
nd
on a day when the weather had grown fair, and they sat alone, he told her t=
hat
his ship was bound for Orkney Isles.
Then, as though by
chance, Swanhild laid her white hand in his, and on a sudden looked deep in=
to
his eyes, and said with trembling lips, "Ah, go not yet, lord!--I pray
thee, go not yet!"--and, turning, she fled away.
But Atli was much
moved, and he said to himself: "Now a strange thing is come to pass: a
fair maid loves an old man; and yet, methinks, he who looks into those eyes=
sees
deep waters," and he beat his brow and thought.
But Swanhild in h=
er
chamber laughed till the tears ran from those same eyes, for she saw that t=
he
great fish was hooked and now the time had come to play him.
For she did not k=
now
that it was otherwise fated.
Gudruda, too, saw=
all
these things and knew not how to read them, for she was of an honest mind, =
and
could not understand how a woman may love a man as Swanhild loved Eric and =
yet
make such play with other men, and that of her free will. For she guessed
little of Swanhild's guilefulness, nor of the coldness of her heart to all =
save
Eric; nor of how this was the only joy left to her: to make a sport of men =
and
put them to grief and shame. Atli said to himself that he would watch this =
maid
well before he uttered a word to Asmund, and he deemed himself very cunning,
for he was wondrous cautious after the fashion of those about to fall. So he
set himself to watching, and Swanhild set herself to smiling, and he told h=
er
tales of warfare and of daring, and she clasped her hands and said:
"Was there e=
ver
such a man since Odin trod the earth?" And so it went on, till the
serving-women laughed at the old man in love and the wit of her that mocked
him.
Now upon a day, Eric having made an end =
of
sowing his corn, bethought himself of his vow to go up alone against Skalla=
grim
the Baresark in his den on Mosfell over by Hecla. Now, this was a heavy tas=
k:
for Skallagrim was held so mighty among men that none went up against him a=
ny
more; and at times Eric thought of Gudruda, and sighed, for it was likely t=
hat she
would be a widow before she was made a wife. Still, his oath must be fulfil=
led,
and, moreover, of late Skallagrim having heard that a youngling named Eric
Brighteyes had vowed to slay him single-handed, had made of a mock of him in
this fashion. For Skallagrim rode down to Coldback on Ran River and at
night-time took a lamb from the fold. Holding the lamb beneath his arm, he =
drew
near to the house and smote thrice on the door with his battle-axe, and they
were thundering knocks. Then he leapt on to his horse and rode off a space =
and
waited. Presently Eric came out, but half clad, a shield in one hand and
Whitefire in the other, and, looking, by the bright moonlight he saw a huge
black-bearded man seated on a horse, having a great axe in one hand and the
lamb beneath his arm.
"Who art
thou?" roared Eric.
"I am called
Skallagrim, youngling," answered the man on the horse. "Many men =
have
seen me once, none have wished to see me twice, and some few have never seen
aught again. Now, it has been echoed in my ears that thou hast vowed a vow =
to
go up Mosfell against Skallagrim the Baresark, and I am come hither to say =
that
I will make thee right welcome. See," and with his axe he cut off the
lamb's tail on the pommel of his saddle: "of the flesh of this lamb of
thine I will brew broth and of his skin I will make me a vest. Take thou th=
is
tail, and when thou fittest it on to the skin again, Skallagrim will own a
lord," and he hurled the tail towards him.
"Bide thou t=
here
till I can come to thee," shouted Eric; "it will spare me a ride =
to
Mosfell."
"Nay, nay. I=
t is
good for lads to take the mountain air," and Skallagrim turned his hor=
se
away, laughing.
Eric watched
Skallagrim vanish over the knoll, and then, though he was very angry, laugh=
ed
also and went in. But first he picked up the tail, and on the morrow he ski=
nned
it.
Now the time was =
come
when the matter must be tried, and Eric bade farewell to Saevuna his mother,
and Unna his cousin, and girt Whitefire round him and set upon his head a
golden helm with wings on it. Then he found the byrnie which his father
Thorgrimur had stripped, together with the helm, from that Baresark who cut=
off
his leg--and this was a good piece, forged of the Welshmen--and he put it o=
n his
breast, and taking a stout shield of bull's hide studded with nails, rode a=
way
with one thrall, the strong carle named Jon.
But the women
misdoubted them much of this venture; nevertheless Eric might not be gainsa=
yed.
Now, the road to
Mosfell runs past Middalhof and thither he came. Atli, standing at the men's
door, saw him and cried aloud: "Ho! a mighty man comes here."
Swanhild looked o=
ut
and saw Eric, and he was a goodly sight in his war-gear. For now, week by w=
eek,
he seemed to grow more fair and great, as the full strength of his manhood =
rose
in him, like sap in the spring grass, and Gudruda was very proud of her lov=
er.
That night Eric stayed at Middalhof, and sat hand in hand with Gudruda and
talked with Earl Atli. Now the heart of the old viking went out to Eric, an=
d he
took great delight in him and in his strength and deeds, and he longed much=
that
the Gods had given him such a son.
"I prophesy =
this
of thee, Brighteyes," he cried: "that it shall go ill with this
Baresark thou seekest--yes, and with all men who come within sweep of that
great sword of thine. But remember this, lad: guard thy head with thy buckl=
er,
cut low beneath his shield, if he carries one, and mow the legs from him: f=
or
ever a Baresark rushes on, shield up."
Eric thanked him =
for
his good words and went to rest. But, before it was light, he rose, and Gud=
ruda
rose also and came into the hall, and buckled his harness on him with her o=
wn
hands.
"This is a s=
ad
task for me, Eric!" she sighed, "for how do I know that Baresark's
hands shall not loose this helm of thine?"
"That is as =
it
may be, sweet," he said; "but I fear not the Baresark or any man.=
How
goes it with Swanhild now?"
"I know not.=
She
makes herself sweet to that old Earl and he is fain of her, and that is bey=
ond
my sight."
"I have seen=
as
much," said Eric. "It will be well for us if he should wed her.&q=
uot;
"Ay, and ill=
for
him; but it is to be doubted if that is in her mind."
Now Eric kissed h=
er
soft and sweet, and went away, bidding her look for his return on the day a=
fter
the morrow.
Gudruda bore up
bravely against her fears till he was gone, but then she wept a little.
Now it is to be t=
old
that Eric and his thrall Jon rode hard up Stonefell and across the mountains
and over the black sand, till, two hours before sunset, they came to the fo=
ot
of Mosfell, having Hecla on their right. It is a grim mountain, grey with m=
oss,
standing alone in the desert plain; but between it and Hecla there is good
grassland.
"Here is the
fox's earth. Now to start him," said Eric.
He knows somethin=
g of
the path by which this fortress can be climbed from the south, and horses m=
ay
be ridden up it for a space. So on they go, till at length they come to a f=
lat
place where water runs down the black rocks, and here Eric drank of the wat=
er,
ate food, and washed his face and hands. This done, he bid Jon tend the
horses--for hereabouts there is a little grass--and be watchful till he
returned, since he must go up against Skallagrim alone. And there with a
doubtful heart Jon stayed all that night. For of all that came to pass he s=
aw
but one thing, and that was the light of Whitefire as it flashed out high a=
bove
him on the brow of the mountain when first Brighteyes smote at foe.
Eric went warily =
up
the Baresark path, for he would keep his breath in him, and the light shone
redly on his golden helm. High he went, till at length he came to a pass na=
rrow
and dark and hedged on either side with sheer cliffs, such as two armed men
might hold against a score. He peered down this path, but he saw no Baresar=
k,
though it was worn by Baresark feet. He crept along its length, moving like=
a
sunbeam through the darkness of the pass, for the light gathered on his helm
and sword, till suddenly the path turned and he was on the brink of a gulf =
that
seemed to have no bottom, and, looking across and down, he could see Jon and
the horses more than a hundred fathoms beneath. Now Eric must stop, for this
path leads but into the black gulf. Also he was perplexed to know where
Skallagrim had his lair. He crept to the brink and gazed. Then he saw that a
point of rock jutted from the sheer face of the cliff and that the point was
worn with the mark of feet.
"Where Bares=
ark
passes, there may yeoman follow," said Eric and, sheathing Whitefire,
without more ado, though he liked the task little, he grasped the overhangi=
ng
rock and stepped down on to the point below. Now he was perched like an eag=
le
over the dizzy gulf and his brain swam. Backward he feared to go, and forwa=
rd
he might not, for there was nothing but air. Beside him, growing from the f=
ace
of the cliff, was a birch-bush. He grasped it to steady himself. It bent
beneath his clutch, and then he saw, behind it, a hole in the rock through
which a man could creep, and down this hole ran footmarks.
"First throu=
gh
air like a bird; now through earth like a fox," said Eric and entered =
the
hole. Doubling his body till his helm almost touched his knee he took three
paces and lo! he stood on a great platform of rock, so large that a hall mi=
ght
be built on it, which, curving inwards, cannot be seen from the narrow pass.
This platform, that is backed by the sheer cliff, looks straight to the sou=
th,
and from it he could search the plain and the path that he had travelled, a=
nd
there once more he saw Jon and the horses far below him.
"A strong pl=
ace,
truly, and well chosen," said Eric and looked around. On the floor of =
the
rock and some paces from him a turf fire still smouldered, and by it were
sheep's bones, and beyond, in the face of the overhanging precipice, was the
mouth of a cave.
"The wolf is=
at
home, or was but lately," said Eric; "now for his lair;" and
with that he walked warily to the mouth of the cave and peered in. He could=
see
nothing yet a while, but surely he heard a sound of snoring?
Then he crept in,
and, presently, by the red light of the burning embers, he saw a great
black-bearded man stretched at length upon a rug of sheepskins, and by his =
side
an axe.
"Now it woul=
d be
easy to make an end of this cave-dweller," thought Eric; "but tha=
t is
a deed I will not do--no, not even to a Baresark--to slay him in his
sleep," and therewith he stepped lightly to the side of Skallagrim, and
was about to prick him with the point of Whitefire, when! as he did so, ano=
ther
man sat up behind Skallagrim.
"By Thor! for
two I did not bargain," said Eric, and sprang from the cave.
Then, with a grun=
t of
rage, that Baresark who was behind Skallagrim came out like a she-bear robb=
ed
of her whelps, and ran straight at Eric, sword aloft. Eric gives before him
right to the edge of the cliff. Then the Baresark smites at him and Brighte=
yes
catches the blow on his shield, and smites at him in turn so well and truly,
that the head of the Baresark flies from his shoulders and spins along the
ground, but his body, with outstretched arms yet gripping at the air, falls
over the edge of the gulf sheer into the water, a hundred fathoms down. It =
was the
flash that Whitefire made as it circled ere it smote that Jon saw while he
waited in the dell upon the mountain side. But of the Baresark he saw nothi=
ng,
for he passed down into the great fire-riven cleft and was never seen more,
save once only, in a strange fashion that shall be told. This was the first=
man
whom Brighteyes slew.
Now the old tale
tells that Eric cried aloud: "Little chance had this one," and th=
at
then a wonderful thing came to pass. For the head on the rock opened its ey=
es
and answered:
"Little chan=
ce
indeed against thee, Eric Brighteyes. Still, I tell thee this: that where my
body fell there thou shalt fall, and where it lies there thou shalt lie
also."
Now Eric was afra= id, for he thought it a strange thing that a severed head should speak to him.<= o:p>
"Here it see=
ms I
have to deal with trolls," he said; "but at the least, though he
speak, this one shall strike no more," and he looked at the head, but =
it
answered nothing.
Now Skallagrim sl=
ept
through it all and the light grew so dim that Eric thought it time to make =
an
end this way or that. Therefore, he took the head of the slain man, though =
he
feared to touch it, and rolled it swiftly into the cave, saying, "Now,
being so glib of speech, go tell thy mate that Eric Brighteyes knocks at his
door."
Then came sounds =
as
of a man rising, and presently Skallagrim rushed forth with axe aloft and h=
is
fellow's head in his left hand. He was clothed in nothing but a shirt and t=
he
skin of Eric's lamb was bound to his chest.
"Where now i=
s my
mate?" he said. Then he saw Eric leaning on Whitefire, his golden helm
ablaze with the glory of the passing sun.
"It seems th=
at
thou holdest somewhat of him in thine hand, Skallagrim, and for the rest, go
seek it in yonder rift."
"Who art
thou?" roared Skallagrim.
"Thou mayest
know me by this token," said Eric, and he threw towards him the skin of
that lamb's tail which Skallagrim had lifted from Coldback.
Now Skallagrim kn=
ew
him and the Baresark fit came on. His eyes rolled, foam flew to his lips, h=
is
mouth grinned, and he was awesome to see. He let fall the head, and, swingi=
ng
the great axe aloft, rushed at Eric. But Brighteyes is too swift for him. It
would not be well to let that stroke fall, and it must go hard with aught it
struck. He springs forward, he louts low and sweeps upwards with Whitefire.
Skallagrim sees the sword flare and drops almost to his knee, guarding his =
head
with the axe; but Whitefire strikes on the iron half of the axe and shears =
it
in two, so that the axe-head falls to earth. Now the Baresark is weaponless=
but
unharmed, and it would be an easy task to slay him as he rushes by. But it =
came
into Eric's mind that it is an unworthy deed to slay a swordless man, and t=
his
came into his mind also, that he desired to match his naked might against a
Baresark in his rage. So, in the hardihood of his youth and strength, he ca=
st
Whitefire aside, and crying "Come, try a fall with me, Baresark,"
rushed on Skallagrim.
"Thou art
mad," yells the Baresark, and they are at it hard. Now they grip and r=
end
and tear. Ospakar was strong, but the Baresark strength of Skallagrim is mo=
re
than the strength of Ospakar, and soon Brighteyes thinks longingly on White=
fire
that he has cast aside. Eric is mighty beyond the might of men, but he can
scarcely hold his own against this mad man, and very soon he knows that only
one chance is left to him, and that is to cling to Skallagrim till the Bare=
sark
fit be passed and he is once more like other men. But this is easier to tel=
l of
than to do, and presently, strive as he will, Eric is on his back, and
Skallagrim on him. But still he holds the Baresark as with bands of iron, a=
nd Skallagrim
may not free his arms, though he strive furiously. Now they roll over and o=
ver
on the rock, and the gloom gathers fast about them till presently Eric sees
that they draw near to the brink of that mighty rift down which the severed
head of the cave-dweller has foretold his fall.
"Then we go
together," says Eric, but the Baresark does not heed. Now they are on =
the
very brink, and here as it chances, or as the Norns decree, a little rock j=
uts
up and this keeps them from falling. Eric is uppermost, and, strive as he w=
ill,
Skallagrim may not turn him on his back again. Still, Brighteyes' strength =
may
not endure very long, for he grows faint, and his legs slip slowly over the
side of the rift till now he clings, as it were, by his ribs and
shoulder-blades alone, that rub against the little rock. The light dies awa=
y,
and Eric thinks on sweet Gudruda and makes ready to die also, when suddenly=
a
last ray from the sun falls on the fierce face of Skallagrim, and lo!
Brighteyes sees it change, for the madness goes out of it, and in a moment =
the
Baresark becomes but as a child in his mighty grip.
"Hold!"
said Skallagrim, "I crave peace," and he loosed his clasp.
"Not too soo=
n,
then," gasped Eric as, drawing his legs from over the brink of the rif=
t,
he gained his feet and, staggering to his sword, grasped it very thankfully=
.
"I am
fordone!" said Skallagrim; "come, drag me from this place, for I =
fall;
or, if thou wilt, hew off my head."
"I will not
serve thee thus," said Eric. "Thou art a gallant foe," and he
put out his hand and drew him into safety.
For a while
Skallagrim lay panting, then he gained his hands and knees and crawled to w=
here
Eric leaned against the rock.
"Lord,"=
he
said, "give me thy hand."
Eric stretched fo=
rth
his left hand, wondering, and Skallagrim took it. He did not stretch out his
right, for, fearing guile, he gripped Whitefire in it.
"Lord,"
Skallagrim said again, "of all men who ever were, thou art the mightie=
st.
Five other men had not stood before me in my rage, but, scorning thy weapon,
thou didst overcome me in the noblest fashion, and by thy naked strength al=
one.
Now hearken. Thou hast given me my life, and it is thine from this hour to =
the
end. Here I swear fealty to thee. Slay me if thou wilt, or use me if thou w=
ilt,
but I think it will be better for thee to do this rather than that, for the=
re
is but one who has mastered me, and thou art he, and it is borne in upon my
mind that thou wilt have need of my strength, and that shortly."
"That may we=
ll
be, Skallagrim," said Eric, "yet I put little trust in outlaws and
cave-dwellers. How do I know, if I take thee to me, that thou wilt not murd=
er
me in my sleep, as it would have been easy for me to do by thee but now?&qu=
ot;
"What is it =
that
runs from thy arm," asked Skallagrim.
"Blood,"
said Eric.
"Stretch out
thine arm, lord."
Eric did so, and =
the
Baresark put his lips to the scratch and sucked the blood, then said:
"In this blo=
od
of thine I pledge thee, Eric Brighteyes! May Valhalla refuse me and Hela ta=
ke
me; may I be hunted like a fox from earth to earth; may trolls torment me a=
nd
wizards sport with me o' night; may my limbs shrivel and my heart turn to
water; may my foes overtake me, and my bones be crushed across the
doom-stone--if I fail in one jot from this my oath that I have sworn! I will
guard thy back, I will smite thy enemies, thy hearthstone shall be my templ=
e,
thy honour my honour. Thrall am I of thine, and thrall I will be, and whiles
thou wilt we will live one life, and, in the end, we will die one death.&qu=
ot;
"It seems th=
at
in going to seek a foe I have found a friend," said Eric, "and it=
is
likely enough that I shall need one. Skallagrim, Baresark and outlaw as thou
art, I take thee at thy word. Henceforth, we are master and man and we will=
do
many a deed side by side, and in token of it I lengthen thy name and call t=
hee
Skallagrim Lambstail. Now, if thou hast it, give me food and drink, for I am
faint from that hug of thine, old bear."
Now Skallagrim led
Eric to his cave and fed the fire and gave him flesh to eat and ale to drin=
k.
When he had eaten his fill Eric looked at the Baresark. He had black hair
streaked with grey that hung down upon his shoulders. His nose was hooked l=
ike
an eagle's beak, his beard was wild and his sunken eyes were keen as a hawk=
's.
He was somewhat bent and not over tall, but of a mighty make, for his shoul=
ders
must pass many a door sideways.
"Thou art a
great man," said Eric, "and it is something to have overcome thee.
Now tell me what turned thee Baresark."
"A shameful =
deed
that was done against me, lord. Ten years ago I was a yeoman of small wealt=
h in
the north. I had but one good thing, and that was the fairest housewife in
those parts--Thorunna by name--and I loved her much, but we had no children.
Now, not far from my stead is a place called Swinefell, and there dwells a
mighty chief named Ospakar Blacktooth; he is an evil man and strong----&quo=
t;
Eric started at t=
he
name and then bade Skallagrim take up the tale.
"It chanced = that Ospakar saw my wife Thorunna and would take her, but at first she did not listen. Then he promised her wealth and all good things, and she was weary = of our hard way of life and hearkened. Still, she would not go away openly, for that had brought shame on her, but plotted with Ospakar that he should come= and take her as though by force. So it came about, as I lay heavily asleep one night at Thorunna's side, having drunk somewhat too deeply of the autumn al= e, that armed men seized me, bound me, and haled me from my bed. There were ei= ght of them, and with them was Ospakar. Then Blacktooth bid Thorunna rise, clot= he herself and come to be his May, and she made pretence to weep at this, but fell to = it readily enough. Now she bound her girdle round her and to it a knife hung.<= o:p>
"'Kill thyse=
lf,
sweet,' I cried: 'death is better than shame.'
"'Not so,
husband,' she answered. 'It is true that I love but thee; yet a woman may f=
ind
another love, but not another life,' and I saw her laugh through her mock
tears. Now Ospakar rode in hot haste away to Swinefell and with him went
Thorunna, but his men stayed a while and drank my ale, and, as they drank, =
they
mocked me who was bound before them, and little by little all the truth was
told of the doings of Ospakar and Thorunna my housewife, and I learned that=
it
was she who had planned this sport. Then my eyes grew dark and I drew near =
to
death from very shame and bitterness. But of a sudden something leaped up i=
n my
heart, fire raged before my eyes and voices in my ears called on to war and
vengeance. I was Baresark--and like hay bands I burst my cords. My axe hung=
on
the wainscot. I snatched it thence, and of what befell I know this alone, t=
hat,
when the madness passed, eight men lay stretched out before me, and all the
place was but a gore of blood.
"'Then I drew
the dead together and piled drinking tables over them, and benches, and tur=
f,
and anything else that would burn, and put cod's oil on the pile, and fired=
the
stead above them, so that the tale went abroad that all these men were burn=
ed in
their cups, and I with them.
"'But I took=
the
name of Skallagrim and swore an oath against all men, ay, and women too, and
away I went to the wood-folk and worked much mischief, for I spared few, an=
d so
on to Mosfell. Here I have stayed these five years, awaiting the time when I
shall find Ospakar and Thorunna the harlot, and I have fought many men, but,
till thou camest up against me, none could stand before my might."
"A strange t=
ale,
truly," said Eric; "but now hearken thou to a stranger, for of a =
truth
it seems that we have not come together by chance," and he told him of
Gudruda and the wrestling and of the overthrow of Blacktooth, and showed him
Whitefire which he won out of the hand of Ospakar.
Skallagrim listen=
ed
and laughed aloud. "Surely," he said, "this is the work of t=
he
Norns. See, lord, thou and I will yet smite this Ospakar. He has taken my w=
ife
and he would take thy betrothed. Let it be! Let it be! Ah, would that I had
been there to see the wrestling--Ospakar had never risen from his snow-bed.=
But
there is time left to us, and I shall yet see his head roll along the dust.
Thou hast his goodly sword and with it thou shalt sweep Blacktooth's head f=
rom
his shoulders--or perchance that shall be my lot," and with this
Skallagrim sprang up, gnashing his teeth and clutching at the air.
"Peace,"
said Eric. "Blacktooth is not here. Save thy rage until it can run alo=
ng
thy sword and strike him."
"Nay, not he=
re,
nor yet so far off, lord. Hearken: I know this Ospakar. If he has set eyes =
of
longing on Gudruda, Asmund's daughter, he will not rest one hour till he ha=
ve
her or is slain; and if he has set eyes of hate on thee--then take heed to =
thy
going and spy down every path before thy feet tread it. Soon shall the matt=
er
come on for judgment and even now Odin's Valkyries[*] choose their own.&quo=
t;
[*] The "corse-choosing sisters=
"
who were bidden by Odin to sin=
gle
out those warriors whose hour had come to die in battle and win Valhalla.
"It is well,
then," said Eric.
"Yea, lord, =
it
is well, for we two have little to fear from any six men, if so be that they
fall on us in fair fight. But I do not altogether like thy tale. Too many w=
omen
are mixed up in it, and women stab in the back. A man may deal with swords
aloft, but not with tricks, and lies, and false women's witchery. It was a
woman who greased thy wrestling soles; mayhap it will be a woman that binds=
on
thy Hell-shoes when all is done--ay! and who makes them ready for thy
feet."
"Of women, a=
s of
men," answered Eric, "there is this to be said, that some are good
and some evil."
"Yes, lord, =
and
this also, that the evil ones plot the ill of their evil, but the good do i=
t of
their blind foolishness. Forswear women and so shalt thou live happy and di=
e in
honour--cherish them and live in wretchedness and die an outcast."
"Thy talk is
foolish," said Eric. "Birds must to the air, the sea to the shore,
and man must to woman. As things are so let them be, for they will soon see=
m as
though they had never been. I had rather kiss my dear and die, if so it ple=
ases
me to do, than kiss her not and live, for at the last the end will be one e=
nd,
and kisses are sweet!"
"That is a g=
ood
saying," said Skallagrim, and they fell asleep side by side and Eric h=
ad
no fear.
Now they awoke and
the light was already full, for they were weary and their sleep had been he=
avy.
Hard by the mouth=
of
the cave is a little well of water that gathers there from the rocks above =
and
in this Eric washed himself. Then Skallagrim showed him the cave and the go=
odly
store of arms that he had won from those whom he had slain and robbed.
"A wondrous
place, truly," said Eric, "and well fitted to the uses of such a
chapman[*] as thou art; but, say, how didst thou find it?"
[*] Merchant.
"I followed =
him
who was here before me and gave him choice--to go, or to fight for the
stronghold. But he needs must fight and that was his bane, for I slew
him."
"Who was tha=
t,
then," asked Eric, "whose head lies yonder?"
"A cave-dwel=
ler,
lord, whom I took to me because of the lonesomeness of the winter tide. He =
was
an evil man, for though it is good to be Baresark from time to time, yet to
dwell with one who is always Baresark is not good, and thou didst a needful
deed in smiting his head from him--and now let it go to find its trunk,&quo=
t;
and he rolled it over the edge of the great rift.
"Knowest tho=
u,
Skallagrim, that this head spoke to me after it had left the man's shoulder=
s,
saying that where its body fell there I should fall, and where it lay there=
I
should lie also?"
"Then, lord,
that is likely to be thy doom, for this man was foresighted, and, but the n=
ight
before last, as we rode out to seek sheep, he felt his head, and said that,
before the sun sank again, a hundred fathoms of air should link it to his
shoulders."
"It may be
so," answered Eric. "I thought as I lay in thy grip yonder that t=
he
fate was near. And now arm thyself, and take such goods as thou needest, and
let us hence, for that thrall of mine who waits me yonder will think thou h=
ast
been too mighty for me."
Skallagrim went t=
o the
edge of the rift and searched the plain with his hawk eyes.
"No need to
hasten, lord," he said. "See yonder rides thy thrall across the b=
lack
sand, and with him goes thy horse. Surely he thought thou camest no more do=
wn
the path by which thou wentest up, and it is not thrall's work to seek
Skallagrim in his lair and ask for tidings."
"Wolves take=
him
for a fool!" said Eric in anger. "He will ride to Middalhof and s=
ing
my death-song, and that will sound sadly in some ears."
"It is pleas=
ant,
lord," said Skallagrim, "when good tidings dog the heels of bad, =
and
womenfolk can spare some tears and be little poorer. I have horses in a sec=
ret
dell that I will show thee, and on them we will ride hence to Middalhof--and
there thou must claim peace for me."
"It is
well," said Eric; "now arm thyself, for if thou goest with me thou
must make an end of thy Baresark ways, or keep them for the hour of battle.=
"
"I will do t=
hy
bidding, lord," said Skallagrim. Then he entered the cave and set a pl=
ain
black steel helm upon his black locks, and a black chain byrnie about his
breast. He took the great axe-head also and fitted to it the half of another
axe that lay among the weapons. Then he drew out a purse of money and a sto=
re
of golden rings, and set them in a bag of otter skin, and buckled it about =
him.
But the other goods he wrapped up in skins and hid behind some stones which
were at the bottom of the cave--purposing to come another time and fetch th=
em.
Then they went fo=
rth
by that same perilous path which Eric had trod, and Skallagrim showed him h=
ow
he might pass the rock in safety.
"A rough road
this," said Eric as he gained the deep cleft.
"Yea, lord, =
and,
till thou camest, one that none but wood-folk have trodden."
"I would tre=
ad
it no more," said Eric again, "and yet that fellow thief of thine
said that I should die here," and for a while his heart was heavy.
Now Skallagrim
Lambstail led him by secret paths to a dell rich in grass, that is hid in t=
he
round of the mountain, and here three good horses were at feed. Then, going=
to
a certain rock, he brought out bits and saddles, and they caught the horses,
and, mounting them, rode away from Mosfell.
Now Eric and his
henchman Skallagrim the Baresark rode four hours and saw nobody, till at le=
ngth
they came to the brow of a hill that is named Horse-Head Heights, and, cros=
sing
it, found themselves almost in the midst of a score of armed men who were a=
bout
to mount their horses.
"Now we have
company," said Skallagrim.
"Yes, and bad
company," answered Eric, "for yonder I spy Ospakar Blacktooth, and
Gizur and Mord his sons, ay and others. Down, and back to back, for they wi=
ll
show us little gentleness."
Then they sprang =
to
earth and took their stand upon a mound of rising ground--and the men rode
towards them.
"I shall soon
know what thy fellowship is worth," said Eric.
"Fear not,
lord," answered Skallagrim. "Hold thou thy head and I will hold t=
hy
back. We are met in a good hour."
"Good or ill=
, it
is likely to be a short one. Hearken thou: if thou must turn Baresark when
swords begin to flash, at the least stand and be Baresark where thou art, f=
or
if thou rushest on the foe, my back will be naked and I must soon be
sped."
"It shall be=
as
thou sayest, lord."
Now men rode round
them, but at first they did not know Eric, because of the golden helm that =
hid
his face in shadow.
"Who are
ye?" called Ospakar.
"I think that
thou shouldst know me, Blacktooth," Eric answered, "for I set thee
heels up in the snow but lately--or, at the least, thou wilt know this,&quo=
t;
and he drew great Whitefire.
"Thou mayest
know me also, Ospakar," cried the Baresark. "Skallagrim, men call=
ed
me, Lambstail, Eric Brighteyes calls me, but once thou didst call me Ounoun=
d.
Say, lord, what tidings of Thorunna?"
Now Ospakar shook=
his
sword, laughing. "I came out to seek one foe, and I have found two,&qu=
ot;
he cried. "Hearken, Eric: when thou art slain I go hence to burn and k=
ill
at Middalhof. Shall I bear thy head as keepsake from thee to Gudruda? For t=
hee,
Ounound, I thought thee dead; but, being yet alive, Thorunna, my sweet love,
sends thee this," and he hurled a spear at him with all his might.
But Skallagrim
catches the spear as it flies and hurls it back. It strikes right on the sh=
ield
of Ospakar and pierces it, ay and the byrnie, and the shoulder that is bene=
ath
the byrnie, so that Blacktooth was made unmeet for fight, and howled with p=
ain
and rage.
"Go, bid
Thorunna draw that splinter forth," says Skallagrim, "and heal the
hole with kisses."
Now Ospakar, writ=
hing
with his hurt, shouts to his men to slay the two of them, and then the fight
begins.
One rushes at Eric
=
and smites at him with an axe. The blow falls on his shield, and shears off=
the
side of it, then strikes the byrnie beneath, but lightly. In answer Eric sw=
eeps
low at him with Whitefire, and cuts his leg from under him between knee and
thigh, and he falls and dies.
Another rushes in.
Down flashes Whitefire before he can smite, and the carle's shield is cloven
through. Then he chooses to draw back and fights no more that day.
Skallagrim slays a man, and wounds another sore. A tall chief with a red scar on his face come= s at Brighteyes. Twice he feints at the head while Eric watches, then lowers the sword beneath the cover of his shield, and sweeps suddenly at Eric's legs. Brighteyes leaps high into the air, smiting downward with Whitefire as he leaps, and presently that chief is dead, shorn through shoulder to breast.<= o:p>
Now Skallagrim sl=
ays
another man, and grows Baresark. He looks so fierce that men fall back from
him.
Two rush on Eric,=
one
from either side. The sword of him on the right falls on his shield and sin=
ks
in, but Brighteyes twists the shorn shield so strongly that the sword is
wrenched from the smiter's hand. Now the other sword is aloft above him, and
that had been Eric's bane, but Skallagrim glances round and sees it about to
fall. He has no time to turn, but dashes the hammer of his axe backward. It
falls full on the swordsman's head, and the head is shattered.
"That was we=
ll
done," says Eric as the sword goes down.
"Not so ill =
but
it might be worse," growls Skallagrim.
Presently all men
drew back from those two, for they have had enough of Whitefire and the
Baresark's axe.
Ospakar sits on h=
is
horse, his shield pinned to his shoulder and curses aloud.
"Close in, y=
ou
cowards!" he yells, "close in and cut them down!" but no man
stirs.
Then Eric mocks t=
hem.
"There are but two of us," he says, "will no man try a game =
with
me? Let it not be sung that twenty were overcome of two."
Now Ospakar's son
Mord hears, and he grows mad with rage. He holds his shield aloft and rushes
on. But Gizur the Lawman does not come, for Gizur was a coward.
Skallagrim turns =
to
meet Mord, but Eric says:--
"This one for
me, comrade," and steps forward.
Mord strikes a mi=
ghty
blow. Eric's shield is all shattered and cannot stay it. It crashes through=
and
falls full on the golden helm, beating Brighteyes to his knee. Now he is up
again and blows fall thick and fast. Mord is a strong man, unwearied, and
skilled in war, and Eric's arms grow faint and his strength sinks low. Mord
smites again and wounds him somewhat on the shoulder.
Eric throws aside=
his
cloven shield and, shouting, plies Whitefire with both arms. Mord gives bef=
ore
him, then rushes and smites; Eric leaps aside. Again he rushes and lo! Brig=
hteyes
has dropped his point, and it stands a full span through the back of Mord, =
and
instantly that was his bane.
Now men rush to t=
heir
horses, mount in hot haste and ride away, crying that these are trolls whom
they have to do with here, not men. Skallagrim sees, and the Baresark fit t=
akes
him sore. With axe aloft he charges after them, screaming as he comes. Ther=
e is
one man, the same whom he had wounded. He cannot mount easily, and when the
Baresark comes he still lies on the neck of his horse. The great axe wheels=
on
high and falls, and it is told of this stroke that it was so mighty that man
and horse sank dead beneath it, cloven through and through. Then the fit le=
aves
Skallagrim and he walks back, and they are alone with the dead and dying.
Eric leans on
Whitefire and speaks:
"Get thee go=
ne,
Skallagrim Lambstail!" he said; "get thee gone!"
"It shall be=
as
thou wilt, lord," answered the Baresark; "but I have not befriend=
ed
thee so ill that thou shouldst fear for blows to come."
"I will keep=
no
man with me who puts my word aside, Skallagrim. What did I bid thee? Was it=
not
that thou shouldst have done with the Baresark ways, and where thou stoodest
there thou shouldst bide? and see: thou didst forget my word swiftly! Now g=
et
thee gone!"
"It is true,=
lord,"
he said. "He who serves must serve wholly," and Skallagrim turned=
to
seek his horse.
"Stay,"
said Eric; "thou art a gallant man and I forgive thee: but cross my wi=
ll
no more. We have slain several men and Ospakar goes hence wounded. We have =
got
honour, and they loss and the greatest shame. Nevertheless, ill shall come =
of
this to me, for Ospakar has many friends and will set a law-suit on foot
against me at the Althing,[*] and thou didst draw the first blood."
[*] The annual assembly of free men =
which,
in Iceland, performed the func=
tions
of a Parliament and Supreme Court of Law.
"Would that =
the
spear had gone more home," said Skallagrim.
"Ospakar's t=
ime
is not yet," answered Eric; "still, he has something by which to =
bear
us in mind."
=
IX - HOW SWANHILD DEALT W=
ITH
GUDRUDA
Now Jon, Eric's
thrall, watched all night on Mosfell, but saw nothing except the light of
Whitefire as it smote the Baresark's head from his shoulders. He stayed the=
re
till daylight, much afraid; then, making sure that Eric was slain, Jon rode
hard and fast for Middalhof, whither he came at evening.
Gudruda was watch=
ing
by the women's door. She strained her eyes towards Mosfell to catch the lig=
ht
gleaming on Eric's golden helm, and presently it gleamed indeed, white not =
red.
"See," =
said
Swanhild at her side, "Eric comes!"
"Not Eric, b=
ut
his thrall," answered Gudruda, "to tell us that Eric is sped.&quo=
t;
They waited in
silence while Jon galloped towards them.
"What news of
Brighteyes?" cried Swanhild.
"Little need=
to
ask," said Gudruda, "look at his face."
Now Jon told his =
tale
and Gudruda listened, clinging to the door post. But Swanhild cursed him fo=
r a
coward, so that he shrank before her eyes.
Gudruda turned and
walked into the hall and her face was like the face of death. Men saw her, =
and
Asmund asked why she wore so strange a mien. Then Gudruda sang this song:
"Up to Mosfell, battle eager, <= span style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'> Rode helmed Brighteyen to the fray. = Back from Mosfell, battle shunning. = Slunk yon coward thrall I ween. Now shall maid Gudruda never Know a husband's dear embrace; Widowed is she--sunk in sorrow, Eric treads Valhalla's halls!"<= o:p>
And with this she
walked from the stead, looking neither to the right nor to the left.
"Let the maid
be," said Atli the Earl. "Grief fares best alone. But my heart is
sore for Eric. It should go ill with that Baresark if I might get a grip of
him."
"That I will
have before summer is gone," said Asmund, for the death of Eric seemed=
to
him the worst of sorrows.
Gudruda walked fa=
r,
and, crossing Laxà by the stepping stones, climbed Stonefell till she came =
to
the head of Golden Falls, for, like a stricken thing, she desired to be alo=
ne
in her grief. But Swanhild saw her and followed, coming on her as she sat
watching the water thunder down the mighty cleft. Presently Swanhild's shad=
ow
fell athwart her, and Gudruda looked up.
"What wouldst
thou with me, Swanhild?" she asked. "Art thou come to mock my
grief?"
"Nay,
foster-sister, for then I must mock my own. I come to mix my tears with thi=
ne.
See, we loved Eric, thou and I, and Eric is dead. Let our hate be buried in=
his
grave, whence neither may draw him back."
Gudruda looked up=
on
her coldly, for nothing could stir her now.
"Get thee
gone," she said. "Weep thine own tears and leave me to weep mine.=
Not
with thee will I mourn Eric."
Swanhild frowned =
and
bit her lip. "I will not come to thee with words of peace a second tim=
e,
my rival," she said. "Eric is dead, but my hate that was born of
Eric's love for thee lives on and grows, and its flower shall be thy death,
Gudruda!"
"Now that
Brighteyes is dead, I would fain follow on his path: so, if thou listest, t=
hrow
the gates wide," Gudruda answered, and heeded her no more.
Swanhild went, but
not far. On the further side of a knoll of grass she flung herself to earth=
and
grieved as her fierce heart might. She shed no tears, but sat silently, loo=
king
with empty eyes adown the past, and onward to the future, and finding no go=
od
therein.
But Gudruda wept =
as
the weight of her loss pressed in upon her--wept heavy silent tears and cri=
ed
in her heart to Eric who was gone--cried to death to come upon her and bring
her sleep or Eric.
So she sat and so=
she
grieved till, quite outworn with sorrow, sleep stole upon her and she dream=
ed.
Gudruda dreamed that she was dead and that she sat nigh to the golden door =
that
is in Odin's house at Valhalla, by which the warriors pass and repass for e=
ver.
There she sat from age to age, listening to the thunder of ten thousand
thousand tramping feet, and watching the fierce faces of the chosen as they=
marched
out in armies to do battle in the meads. And as she sat, at length a one-ey=
ed
man, clad in gleaming garments, drew near and spoke to her. He was glorious=
to
look on, and old, and she knew him for Odin the Allfather.
"Whom seekest
thou, maid Gudruda?" he asked, and the voice he spoke with was the voi=
ce
of waters.
"I seek Eric
Brighteyes," she answered, "who passed hither a thousand years ag=
o,
and for love of whom I am heart-broken."
"Eric Bright= eyes, Thorgrimur's son?" quoth Odin. "I know him well; no brisker warri= or enters at Valhalla's doors, and none shall do more service at the coming of grey wolf Fenrir.[*] Pass on and leave him to his glory and his God."<= o:p>
[*] The foe desti=
ned
to bring destruction on the Norse gods.
Then, in her drea=
m,
she wept sore, and prayed of Odin by the name of Freya that he would give E=
ric
to her for a little space.
"What wilt t=
hou
pay, then, maid Gudruda?" said Odin.
"My life,&qu=
ot;
she answered.
"Good,"=
he
said; "for a night Eric shall be thine. Then die, and let thy death be=
his
cause of death." And Odin sang this song:
"Now, corse-choosing Daughters,
hearken To the dread Allfather=
's
word: When the gale of spears'
breath gathers Count not Eric =
midst
the slain, Till Brighteyen onc=
e hath
slumbered, Wedded, at Gudruda's
side-- Then, Maidens, scream y=
our
battle call; Whelmed with foes=
, let
Eric fall!"
And Gudruda awoke,
but in her ears the mighty waters still seemed to speak with Odin's voice,
saying:
"Then, Maidens, scream your bat=
tle
call; Whelmed with foes, let E=
ric
fall!"
She awoke from th=
at
fey sleep, and looked upwards, and lo! before her, with shattered shield and
all besmeared with war's red rain, stood gold-helmed Eric. There he stood,
great and beautiful to see, and she looked on him trembling and amazed.
"Is it indeed
thou, Eric, or is it yet my dream?" she said.
"I am no dre=
am,
surely," said Eric; "but why lookest thou thus on me, Gudruda?&qu=
ot;
She rose slowly.
"Methought," she said, "methought that thou wast dead at the
hand of Skallagrim." And with a great cry she fell into his arms and l=
ay
there sobbing.
It was a sweet si=
ght
thus to see Gudruda the Fair, her head of gold pillowed on Eric's war-stain=
ed
byrnie, her dark eyes afloat with tears of joy; but not so thought Swanhild,
watching. She shook in jealous rage, then crept away, and hid herself where=
she
could see no more, lest she should be smitten with madness.
"Whence came=
st
thou? ah! whence camest thou?" said Gudruda. "I thought thee dead=
, my
love; but now I dreamed that I prayed Odin, and he spared thee to me for a
little."
"Well, and t=
hat
he hath, though hardly," and he told her all that had happened, and ho=
w,
as he rode with Skallagrim, who yet sat yonder on his horse, he caught sigh=
t of
a woman seated on the grass and knew the colour of the cloak.
Then Gudruda kiss=
ed
him for very joy, and they were happy each with each--for of all things that
are sweet on earth, there is nothing more sweet that this: to find him we
loved, and thought dead and cold, alive and at our side.
And so they talked
and were very glad with the gladness of youth and love, till Eric said he m=
ust
on to Middalhof before the light failed, for he could not come on horseback=
the
way that Gudruda took, but must ride round the shoulder of the hill; and,
moreover, he was spent with toil and hunger, and Skallagrim grew weary of
waiting.
"Go!" s=
aid
Gudruda; "I will be there presently!"
So he kissed her =
and
went, and Swanhild saw the kiss and saw him go.
"Well,
lord," said Skallagrim, "hast thou had thy fill of kissing?"=
"Not
altogether," answered Eric.
They rode a while=
in
silence.
"I thought t=
he
maid seemed very fair!" said Skallagrim.
"There are w=
omen
less favoured, Skallagrim."
"Rich bait f=
or
mighty fish!" said Skallagrim. "This I tell thee: that, strive as
thou mayest against thy fate, that maid will be thy bane and mine also.&quo=
t;
"Things
foredoomed will happen," said Eric; "but if thou fearest a maid, =
the
cure is easy: depart from my company."
"Who was the
other?" asked the Baresark--"she who crept and peered, listened, =
then
crept back again, hid her face in her hands, and talked with a grey wolf th=
at
came to her like a dog?"
"That must h=
ave
been Swanhild," said Eric, "but I did not see her. Ever does she =
hide
like a rat in the thatch, and as for the wolf, he must be her Familiar; for,
like Groa, her mother, Swanhild plays much with witchcraft. Now I will away
back to Gudruda, for my heart misdoubts me of this matter. Stay thou here t=
ill
I come, Lambstail!" And Eric turns and gallops back to the head of
Goldfoss.
When Eric left he=
r,
Gudruda drew yet nearer to the edge of the mighty falls, and seated herself=
on
their very brink. Her breast was full of joy, and there she sat and let the
splendour of the night and the greatness of the rushing sounds sink into her
heart. Yonder shone the setting sun, poised, as it were, on Westman's dista=
nt
peaks, and here sped the waters, and by that path Eric had come back to her.
Yea, and there on Sheep-saddle was the road that he had trod down Goldfoss;=
and
but now he had slain one Baresark and won another to be his thrall, and they
two alone had smitten the company of Ospakar, and come thence with honour a=
nd
but little harmed. Surely no such man as Eric had ever lived--none so fair =
and
strong and tender; and she was right happy in his love! She stretched out h=
er
arms towards him whom but an hour gone she had thought dead, but who had li=
ved
to come back to her with honour, and blessed his beloved name, and laughed
aloud in her joyousness of heart, calling:
" Eric! Eric=
! "
But Swanhild,
creeping behind her, did not laugh. She heard Gudruda's voice and guessed
Gudruda's gladness, and jealousy arose within her and rent her. Should this
fair rival like to take her joy from her?
" Grey Wolf,
Grey Wolf! what sayest thou? "
See, now, if Gudr=
uda
were gone, if she rolled a corpse into those boiling waters, Eric might yet=
be
hers; or, if he was not hers, yet Gudruda's he could never be.
" Grey Wolf,=
Grey
Wolf! what is thy counsel? "
Right on the brin=
k of
the great gulf sat Gudruda. One stroke and all would be ended. Eric had gon=
e;
there was no eye to see--none save the Grey Wolf's; there was no tongue to =
tell
the deed that might be done. Who could call her to account? The Gods! Who w=
ere
the Gods? What were the Gods? Were they not dreams? There were no Gods save=
the
Gods of Evil--the Gods she knew and communed with.
" Grey Wolf,
Grey Wolf! what is thy rede? "
There sat Gudruda,
laughing in the triumph of her joy, with the sunset-glow shining on her bea=
uty,
and there, behind her, Swanhild crept--crept like a fox upon his sleeping p=
rey.
Now she is there-=
-
" I hear the=
e,
Grey Wolf! Back to my breast, Grey Wolf! "
Surely Gudruda he=
ard
something? She half turned her head, then again fell to calling aloud to the
waters:
"Eric! belov=
ed
Eric!--ah! is there ever a light like the light of thine eyes--is there eve=
r a
joy like the joy of thy kiss?"
Swanhild heard, a=
nd
her springs of mercy froze. Hate and fury entered into her. She rose upon h=
er
knees and gathered up her strength:
"Seek, then,= thy joy in Goldfoss," she cried aloud, and with all her force she thrust.<= o:p>
Gudruda fell a fa=
thom
or more, then, with a cry, she clutched wildly at a little ledge of rock, a=
nd
hung there, her feet resting on the shelving bank. Thirty fathoms down swir=
led
and poured and rolled the waters of the Golden Falls. A fathom above, red in
the red light of evening, lowered the pitiless face of Swanhild. Gudruda lo=
oked
beneath her and saw. Pale with agony she looked up and saw, but she said
naught.
"Let go, my
rival; let go!" cried Swanhild: "there is none to help thee, and =
none
to tell thy tale. Let go, I say, and seek thy marriage-bed in Goldfoss!&quo=
t;
But Gudruda clung=
on
and gazed upwards with white face and piteous eyes.
"What! art t=
hou
so fain of a moment's life?" said Swanhild. "Then I will save thee
from thyself, for it must be ill to suffer thus!" and she ran to seek a
rock. Now she finds one and, staggering beneath its weight to the brink of =
the
gulf, peers over. Still Gudruda hangs. Space yawns beneath her, the waters =
roar
in her ears, the red sky glows above. She sees Swanhild come and shrieks al=
oud.
Eric is there, th=
ough
Swanhild hears him not, for the sound of his horse's galloping feet is lost=
in
the roar of waters. But that cry comes to his ears, he sees the poised rock,
and all grows clear to him. He leaps from his horse, and even as she looses=
the
stone, clutches Swanhild's kirtle and hurls her back. The rock bounds sidew=
ays
and presently is lost in the waters.
Eric looks over. =
He
sees Gudruda's white face gleaming in the gloom. Down he leaps upon the led=
ge,
though this is no easy thing.
"Hold fast! I
come; hold fast!" he cries.
"I can no
more," gasps Gudruda, and one hand slips.
Eric grasps the r=
ock
and, stretching downward, grips her wrist; just as her hold loosens he grips
it, and she swings loose, her weight hanging on his arm.
Now he must needs
lift her up and that with one hand, for the ledge is narrow and he dare not
loose his hold of the rock above. She swings over the great gulf and she is
senseless as one dead. He gathers all his mighty strength and lifts. His fe=
et
slip a little, then catch, and once more Gudruda swings. The sweat bursts o=
ut
upon his forehead and his blood drums through him. Now it must be, or not at
all. Again he lifts and his muscles strain and crack, and she lies beside h=
im
on the narrow ledge!
All is not yet do=
ne.
The brink of the cleft is the height of a man above him. There he must lay =
her,
for he may not leave her to find aid, lest she should wake and roll into the
chasm. Loosing his hold of the cliff, he turns, facing the rock, and, bendi=
ng
over Gudruda, twists his hands in her kirtle below the breast and above the
knee. Then once more Eric puts out his might and draws her up to the level =
of
his breast, and rests. Again with all his force he lifts her above the cres=
t of
his helm and throws her forward, so that now she lies upon the brink of the
great cliff. He almost falls backward at the effort, but, clutching the roc=
k, he
saves himself, and with a struggle gains her side, and lies there, panting =
like
a wearied hound of chase.
Of all trials of
strength that ever were put upon his might, Eric was wont to say, this lift=
ing
of Gudruda was the greatest; for she was no light woman, and there was litt=
le
to stand on and almost nothing to cling to.
Presently Brighte=
yes
rose and peered at Gudruda through the gloom. She still swooned. Then he ga=
zed
about him--but Swanhild, the witchgirl, was gone.
Then he took Gudr=
uda
in his arms, and, leading the horse, stumbled through the darkness, calling=
on
Skallagrim. The Baresark answered, and presently his large form was seen
looming in the gloom.
Eric told his tal=
e in
few words.
"The ways of
womankind are evil," said Skallagrim; "but of all the deeds that I
have known done at their hands, this is the worst. It had been well to hurl=
the
wolf-witch from the cliff."
"Ay, well,&q=
uot;
said Eric; "but that song must yet be sung."
Now dimly lighted=
of
the rising moon by turns they bore Gudruda down the mountain side, till at
length, utterly fordone, they saw the fires of Middalhof.
=
X - HOW ASMUND SPOKE WITH
SWANHILD
Now as the days w=
ent,
though Atli's ship was bound for sea, she did not sail, and it came about t=
hat
the Earl sank ever deeper in the toils of Swanhild. He called to mind many =
wise
saws, but these availed him little: for when Love rises like the sun, wisdom
melts like the mists. So at length it came to this, that on the day of Eric=
's
coming back, Atli went to Asmund the Priest, and asked him for the hand of
Swanhild the Fatherless in marriage. Asmund heard and was glad, for he knew
well that things went badly between Swanhild and Gudruda, and it seemed goo=
d to
him that seas should be set between them. Nevertheless, he thought it hones=
t to
warn the Earl that Swanhild was apart from other women.
"Thou dost g=
reat
honour, earl, to my foster-daughter and my house," he said. "Stil=
l,
it behoves me to move gently in this matter. Swanhild is fair, and she shall
not go hence a wife undowered. But I must tell thee this: that her ways are
dark and secret, and strange and fiery are her moods, and I think that she =
will
bring evil on the man who weds her. Now, I love thee, Atli, were it only for
our youth's sake, and thou art not altogether fit to mate with such a maid,=
for
age has met thee on thy way. For, as thou wouldst say, youth draws to youth=
as
the tide to the shore, and falls away from eld as the wave from the rock.
Think, then: is it well that thou shouldst take her, Atli?"
"I have thou=
ght
much and overmuch," answered the Earl, stroking his grey beard; "=
but
ships old and new drive before a gale."
"Ay, Atli, a=
nd
the new ship rides, where the old one founders."
"A true rede=
, a
heavy rede, Asmund; yet I am minded to sail this sea, and, if it sink me--w=
ell,
I have known fair weather! Great longing has got hold of me, and I think the
maid looks gently on me, and that things may yet go well between us. I have
many things to give such as women love. At the least, if thou givest me thy
good word, I will risk it, Asmund: for the bold thrower sometimes wins the
stake. Only I say this, that, if Swanhild is unwilling, let there be an end=
of
my wooing, for I do not wish to take a bride who turns from my grey
hairs."
Asmund said that =
it
should be so, and they made an end of talking just as the light faded.
Now Asmund went o=
ut
seeking Swanhild, and presently he met her near the stead. He could not see=
her
face, and that was well, for it was not good to look on, but her mien was
wondrous wild.
"Where hast =
thou
been, Swanhild?" he asked.
"Mourning Er=
ic
Brighteyes," she made answer.
"It is meeter
for Gudruda to mourn over Eric than for thee, for her loss is heavy,"
Asmund said sternly. "What hast thou to do with Eric?"
"Little, or
much; or all--read it as thou wilt, foster-father. Still, all wept for are =
not
lost, nor all who are lost wept for."
"Little do I
know of thy dark redes," said Asmund. "Where is Gudruda now?"=
;
"High is she=
or
low, sleeping or perchance awakened: naught reck I. She also mourned for Er=
ic,
and we went nigh to mingling tears--near together were brown curls and
golden," and she laughed aloud.
"Thou art su=
rely
fey, thou evil girl!" said Asmund.
"Ay,
foster-father, fey: yet is this but the first of my feydom. Here starts the
road that I must travel, and my feet shall be red ere the journey's done.&q=
uot;
"Leave thy d=
ark
talk," said Asmund, "for to me it is as the wind's song, and list=
en:
a good thing has befallen thee--ay, good beyond thy deserving."
"Is it so? W= ell, I stand greatly in need of good. What is thy tidings, foster-father?"<= o:p>
"This: Atli =
the
Earl asks thee in marriage, and he is a mighty man, well honoured in his own
land, and set higher, moreover, than I had looked for thee."
"Ay,"
answered Swanhild, "set like the snow above the fells, set in the years
that long are dead. Nay, foster-father, this white-bearded dotard is no mate
for me. What! shall I mix my fire with his frost, my breathing youth with t=
he
creeping palsy of his age? Never! If Swanhild weds she weds not so, for it =
is
better to go maiden to the grave than thus to shrink and wither at the touc=
h of
eld. Now is Atli's wooing sped, and there's an end."
Asmund heard and =
grew
wroth, for the matter seemed strange to him; nor are maidens wont thus to p=
ut
aside the word of those set over them.
"There is no
end," he said; "I will not be answered thus by a girl who lives u=
pon
my bounty. It is my rede that thou weddest Atli, or else thou goest hence. I
have loved thee, and for that love's sake I have borne thy wickedness, thy =
dark
secret ways, and evil words; but I will be crossed no more by thee,
Swanhild."
"Thou wouldst
drive me hence with Groa my mother, though perchance thou hast yet more rea=
son
to hold me dear, foster-father. Fear not: I will go--perhaps further than t=
hou
thinkest," and once more Swanhild laughed, and passed from him into the
darkness.
But Asmund stood
looking after her. "Truly," he said in his heart, "ill deeds=
are
arrows that pierce him who shot them. I have sowed evilly, and now I reap t=
he
harvest. What means she with her talk of Gudruda and the rest?"
Now as he thought=
, he
saw men and horses draw near, and one man, whose helm gleamed in the moonli=
ght,
bore something in his arms.
"Who
passes?" he called.
"Eric Bright=
eyes,
Skallagrim Lambstail, and Gudruda, Asmund's daughter," answered a voic=
e;
"who art thou?"
Then Asmund the
Priest sprang forward, most glad at heart, for he never thought to see Eric
again.
"Welcome, and
thrice welcome art thou, Eric," he cried; "for, know, we deemed t=
hee
dead."
"I have late=
ly
gone near to death, lord," said Eric, for he knew the voice; "but=
I
am hale and whole, though somewhat weary."
"What has co=
me
to pass, then?" asked Asmund, "and why holdest thou Gudruda in thy
arms? Is the maid dead?"
"Nay, she do=
es
but swoon. See, even now she stirs," and as he spake Gudruda awoke,
shuddering, and with a little cry threw her arms about the neck of Eric.
He set her down a=
nd
comforted her, then once more turned to Asmund:
"Three things
have come about," he said. "First, I have slain one Baresark, and=
won
another to be my thrall, and for him I crave thy peace, for he has served me
well. Next, we two were set upon by Ospakar Blacktooth and his fellowship, =
and,
fighting for our hands, have wounded Ospakar, slain Mord his son, and six o=
ther
men of his following."
"That is good
news and bad," said Asmund, "since Ospakar will ask a great
weregild[*] for these men, and thou wilt be outlawed, Eric."
[*] The penalty f=
or
manslaying.
"That may
happen, lord. There is time enough to think of it. Now there are other tidi=
ngs
to tell. Coming to the head of Goldfoss I found Gudruda, my betrothed, mour=
ning
my death, and spoke with her. Afterwards I left her, and presently returned
again, to see her hanging over the gulf, and Swanhild hurling rocks upon he=
r to
crush her."
"These are
tidings in truth," said Asmund--"such tidings as my heart feared!=
Is
this true, Gudruda?"
"It is true,=
my
father," answered Gudruda, trembling. "As I sat on the brink of
Goldfoss, Swanhild crept behind me and thrust me into the gulf. There I clu=
ng
above the waters, and she brought a rock to hurl upon me, when suddenly I s=
aw
Eric's face, and after that my mind left me and I can tell no more."
Now Asmund grew as
one mad. He plucked at his beard and stamped on the ground. "Maid thou=
gh
she be," he cried, "yet shall Swanhild's back be broken on the St=
one
of Doom for a witch and a murderess, and her body hurled into the pool of
faithless women, and the earth will be well rid of her!"
Now Gudruda looke=
d up
and smiled: "It would be ill to wreak such a vengeance on her,
father," she said; "and this would also bring the greatest shame =
on
thee, and all our house. I am saved, by the mercy of the Gods and the might=
of
Eric's arm, and this is my counsel: that nothing be told of this tale, but =
that
Swanhild be sent away where she can harm us no more."
"She must be
sent to the grave, then," said Asmund, and fell to thinking. Presently=
he
spoke again: "Bid yon man fall back, I would speak with you twain,&quo=
t;
and Skallagrim went grumbling.
"Hearken now,
Eric and Gudruda: only an hour ago hath Atli the Good asked Swanhild of me =
in
marriage. But now I met Swanhild here, and her mien was wild. Still, I spok=
e of
the matter to her, and she would have none of it. Now, this is my counsel: =
that
choice be given to Swanhild, either that she go hence Atli's wife, or take =
her
trial in the Doom-ring."
"That will be
bad for the Earl then," said Eric. "Methinks he is too good a man=
to
be played on thus."
" Bairn firs=
t,
then friend ," answered Asmund.
"Now I will =
tell
thee something that, till this hour, I have hidden from all, for it is my
shame. This Swanhild is my daughter, and therefore I have loved her and put
away her evil deeds, and she is half-sister to thee, Gudruda. See, then, how
sore is my straight, who must avenge daughter upon daughter."
"Knows thy s=
on
Björn of this?" asked Eric.
"None knew it
till this hour, except Groa and I."
"Yet I have
feared it long, father," said Gudruda, "and therefore I have also
borne with Swanhild, though she hates me much and has striven hard to draw =
my
betrothed from me. Now thou canst only take one counsel, and it is: to give
choice to Swanhild of these two things, though it is unworthy that Atli sho=
uld
be deceived, and at the best little good can come of it."
"Yet it must=
be
done, for honour is often slain of heavy need," said Asmund. "But=
we
must first swear this Baresark thrall of thine, though little faith lives in
Baresark's breast."
Now Eric called to
Skallagrim and charged him strictly that he should tell nothing of Swanhild,
and of the wolf that he saw by her, and of how Gudruda was found hanging ov=
er
the gulf.
"Fear not,&q=
uot;
growled the Baresark, "my tongue is now my master's. What is it to me =
if
women do their wickedness one on another? Let them work magic, hate and sla=
y by
stealth, so shall evil be lessened in the world."
"Peace!"
said Eric; "if anything of this passes thy lips thou art no longer a
thrall of mine, and I give thee up to the men of thy quarter."
"And I cleave
that wolf's head of thine down to thy hawk's eyes; but, otherwise, I give t=
hee
peace, and will hold thee from harm, wood-dweller as thou art," said
Asmund.
The Baresark laug=
hed:
"My hands will hold my head against ten such mannikins as thou art,
Priest. There was never but one man who might overcome me in fair fight and
there he stands, and his bidding is my law. So waste no words and make not
niddering threats against greater folk," and he slouched back to his
horse.
"A mighty man
and a rough," said Asmund, looking after him; "I like his looks
little."
"Natheless a
strong in battle," quoth Eric; "had he not been at my back some s=
ix
hours gone, by now the ravens had torn out these eyes of mine. Therefore, f=
or
my sake, bear with him."
Asmund said it sh=
ould
be so, and then they passed on to the stead.
Here Eric stripped
off his harness, washed, and bound up his wounds. Then, followed by Skallag=
rim,
axe in hand, he came into the hall as men made ready to sit at meat. Now the
tale of the mighty deeds that he had done, except that of the saving of
Gudruda, had gone abroad, and as Brighteyes came all men rose and with one
voice shouted till the roof of the great hall rocked:
" Welcome, E=
ric
Brighteyes, thou glory of the south! "
Only Björn, Asmun=
d's
son, bit his hand, and did not shout, for he hated Eric because of the fame
that he had won.
Brighteyes stood
still till the clamour died, then said:
"Much noise =
for
little deeds, brethren. It is true that I overthrew the Mosfell Baresarks. =
See,
here is one," and he turned to Skallagrim; "I strangled him in my
arms on Mosfell's brink, and that was something of a deed. Then he swore fe=
alty
to me, and we are blood-brethren now, and therefore I ask peace for him,
comrades--even from those whom he has wronged or whose kin he has slain. I =
know
this, that when thereafter we stood back to back and met the company of Osp=
akar
Blacktooth, who came to slay us--ay, and Asmund also, and bear away Gudruda=
to
be his wife--he warred right gallantly, till seven of their band lay stiff =
on Horse-Head
Heights, overthrown of us, and among them Mord, Blacktooth's son; and Ospak=
ar
himself went thence sore smitten of this Skallagrim. Therefore, for my sake=
, do
no harm to this man who was Baresark, but now is my thrall; and, moreover, I
beg the aid and friendship of all men of this quarter in those suits that w=
ill
be laid against me at the Althing for these slayings, which I hereby give o=
ut
as done by my hand, and by the hand of Skallagrim Lambstail, the
Baresark."
At these words all
men shouted again; but Atli the Earl sprang from the high seat where Asmund=
had
placed him, and, coming to Eric, kissed him, and, drawing a gold chain from=
his
neck, flung it about the neck of Eric, crying:
"Thou art a
glorious man, Eric Brighteyes. I thought the world had no more of such a br=
eed.
Listen to my bidding: come thou to the earldom in Orkneys and be a son to m=
e,
and I will give thee all good gifts, and, when I die, thou shalt sit in my =
seat
after me."
But Eric thought =
of
Swanhild, who must go from Iceland as wife to Atli, and answered:
"Thou doest =
me
great honour, Earl, but this may not be. Where the fir is planted, there it
must grow and fall. Iceland I love, and I will stay here among my own people
till I am driven away."
"That may we=
ll
happen, then," said Atli, "for be sure Ospakar and his kin will n=
ot
let the matter of these slayings rest, and I think that it will not avail t=
hee
much that thou smotest for thine own hand. Then, come thou and be my man.&q=
uot;
"Where the N=
orns
lead there I must follow," said Eric, and sat down to meat. Skallagrim=
sat
down also at the side-bench; but men shrank from him, and he glowered on th=
em
in answer.
Presently Gudruda
entered, and she seemed pale and faint.
When he had done eating, Eric drew Gudruda on to his knee, and she sat there, resting her go= lden head upon his breast. But Swanhild did not come into the hall, though ever = Earl Atli sought her dark face and lovely eyes of blue, and he wondered greatly = how his wooing had sped. Still, at this time he spoke no more of it to Asmund.<= o:p>
Now Skallagrim dr=
ank
much ale, and glared about him fiercely; for he had this fault, that at tim=
es
he was drunken. In front of him were two thralls of Asmund's; they were
brothers, and large-made men, and they watched Asmund's sheep upon the fell=
s in
winter. These two also grew drunk and jeered at Skallagrim, asking him what
atonement he would make for those ewes of Asmund's that he had stolen last
Yule, and how it came to pass that he, a Baresark, had been overthrown of a=
n unarmed
man.
Skallagrim bore t=
heir
gibes for a space as he drank on, but suddenly he rose and rushed at them, =
and,
seizing a man's throat in either hand, thrust them to the ground beneath him
and nearly choked them there.
Then Eric ran down
the hall, and, putting out his strength, tore the Baresark from them.
"This then is thy peacefulness, thou wolf!" Eric cried. "Thou art drunk!"<= o:p>
"Ay,"
growled Skallagrim, "ale is many a man's doom."
"Have a care
that it is not thine and mine, then!" said Eric. "Go, sleep; and =
know
that, if I see thee thus once more, I see thee not again."
But after this men
jeered no more at Skallagrim Lambstail, Eric's thrall.
=
XI - HOW SWANHILD BID
FAREWELL TO ERIC
Now all this while
Asmund sat deep in thought; but when, at length, men were sunk in sleep, he
took a candle of fat and passed to the shut bed where Swanhild slept alone.=
She
lay on her bed, and her curling hair was all about her. She was awake, for =
the
light gleamed in her blue eyes, and on a naked knife that was on the bed be=
side
her, half hidden by her hair.
"What wouldst
thou, foster-father?" she asked, rising in the couch. Asmund closed the
curtains, then looked at her sternly and spoke in a low voice:
"Thou art fa=
ir
to be so vile a thing, Swanhild," he said. "Who now would have
dreamed that heart of thine could talk with goblins and with were-wolves--t=
hat
those eyes of thine could bear to look on murder and those white hands find
strength to do the sin?"
She held up her
shapely arms and, looking on them, laughed. "Would that they had been
fashioned in a stronger mould," she said. "May they wither in the=
ir
woman's weakness! else had the deed been done outright. Now my crime is as
heavy upon me and nothing gained by it. Say what fate for me,
foster-father--the Stone of Doom and the pool where faithless women lie? Ah,
then might Gudruda laugh indeed, and I will not live to hear that laugh.
See," and she gripped the dagger at her side: "along this bright =
edge
runs the path to peace and freedom, and, if need be, I will tread it."=
"Be
silent," said Asmund. "This Gudruda, my daughter, whom thou would=
st have
foully done to death, is thine own sister, and it is she who, pitying thee,
hath pleaded for thy life."
"I will naug=
ht
of her pity who have no pity," she answered; "and this I say to t=
hee
who art my father: shame be on thee who hast not dared to own thy child!&qu=
ot;
"Hadst thou =
not
been my child, Swanhild, and had I not loved thee secretly as my child, be =
sure
of this, I had long since driven thee hence; for my eyes have been open to =
much
that I have not seemed to see. But at length thy wickedness has overcome my
love, and I will see thy face no more. Listen: none have heard of this sham=
eful
deed of thine save those who saw it, and their tongues are sealed. Now I gi=
ve
thee choice: wed Atli and go, or stand in the Doom-ring and take thy
fate."
"Have I not
said, father, while death may be sought otherwise, that I will never do this
last? Nor will I do the first. I am not all of the tame breed of you Iceland
folk--other and quicker blood runs in my veins; nor will I be sold in marri=
age
to a dotard as a mare is sold at a market. I have answered."
"Fool! think
again, for I go not back upon my word. Wed Atli or die--by thy own hand, if
thou wilt--there I will not gainsay thee; or, if thou fearest this, then an=
on
in the Doom-ring."
Now Swanhild cove=
red
her eyes with her hands and shook the long hair about her face, and she see=
med
wondrous fair to Asmund the Priest who watched. And as she sat thus, it came
into her mind that marriage is not the end of a young maid's life--that old
husbands have been known to die, and that she might rule this Atli and his
earldom and become a rich and honoured woman, setting her sails in such fas=
hion
that when the wind turned it would fill them. Otherwise she must die--ay, d=
ie
shamed and leave Gudruda with her love.
Suddenly she slip=
ped
from the bed to the floor of the chamber, and, clasping the knees of Asmund,
looked up through the meshes of her hair, while tears streamed from her
beautiful eyes:
"I have
sinned," she sobbed--"I have sinned greatly against thee and my s=
ister.
Hearken: I was mad with love of Eric, whom from a child I have turned to, a=
nd
Gudruda is fairer than I and she took him from me. Most of all was I mad th=
is
night when I wrought the deed of shame, for ill things counselled me--things
that I did not call; and oh, I thank the Gods--if there are Gods--that Gudr=
uda
died not at my hand. See now, father, I put this evil from me and tear Eric
from my heart," and she made as though she rent her bosom--"I will
wed Atli, and be a good housewife to him, and I crave but this of Gudruda: =
that
she forgive me her wrong; for it was not done of my will, but of my madness,
and of the driving of those whom my mother taught me to know."
Asmund listened a=
nd
the springs of his love thawed within him. "Now thou dost take good
counsel," he said, "and of this be sure, that so long as thou art=
in
that mood none shall harm thee; and for Gudruda, she is the most gentle of
women, and it may well be that she will put away thy sin. So weep no more, =
and
have no more dealings with thy Finnish witchcraft, but sleep; and to-morrow=
I
will bear thy word to Atli, for his ship is bound and thou must swiftly be =
made
a wife."
He went out, bear=
ing
the light with him; but Swanhild rose from the ground and sat on the edge of
the bed, staring into the darkness and shuddering from time to time.
"I shall soo=
n be
made his wife," she murmured, "who would be but one man's wife--a=
nd
methinks I shall soon be made a widow also. Thou wilt have me, dotard--take=
me
and thy fate! Well, well; better to wed an Earl than to be shamed and stret=
ched
across the Doom-stone. Oh, weak arms that failed me at my need, no more wil=
l I
put trust in you! When next I wound, it shall be with the tongue; when next=
I
strive to slay, it shall be by another's hand. Curses on thee, thou ill
counseller of darkness, who didst betray me at the last! Is it for this tha=
t I
worshipped thee and swore the oath?"
The morning came,=
and
at the first light Asmund sought the Earl. His heart was heavy because of t=
he
guile that his tongue must practise, and his face was dark as a winter dawn=
.
"What news,
Asmund?" asked Atli. " Early tidings are bad tidings , so runs the
saw, and thy looks give weight to it."
"Not altoget=
her
bad, Earl. Swanhild gives herself to thee."
"Of her own
will, Asmund?"
"Ay, of her =
own
will. But I have warned thee of her temper."
"Her temper!
Little hangs to a maid's temper. Once a wife and it will melt in softness l=
ike
the snow when summer comes. These are glad tidings, comrade, and methinks I
grow young again beneath the breath of them. Why art thou so glum then?&quo=
t;
"There is
something that must yet be told of Swanhild," said Asmund. "She is
called the Fatherless, but, if thou wilt have the truth, why here it is for
thee--she is my daughter, born out of wedlock, and I know not how that will
please thee."
Atli laughed alou=
d,
and his bright eyes shone in his wrinkled face. "It pleases me well,
Asmund, for then the maid is sprung from a sound stock. The name of the Pri=
est
of Middalhof is famous far south of Iceland; and never that Iceland bred a
comelier girl. Is that all?"
"One more th=
ing,
Earl. This I charge thee: watch thy wife, and hold her back from witchcraft=
and
from dealings with evil things and trolls of darkness. She is of Finnish bl=
ood
and the women of the Finns are much given to such wicked work."
"I set little
store by witchwork, goblins and their kin," said Atli. "I doubt me
much of their power, and I shall soon wean Swanhild from such ways, if inde=
ed
she practise them."
Then they fell to
talking of Swanhild's dower, and that was not small. Afterwards Asmund soug=
ht
Eric and Gudruda, and told them what had come to pass, and they were glad at
the news, though they grieved for Atli the Earl. And when Swanhild met Gudr=
uda,
she came to her humbly, and humbly kissed her hand, and with tears craved
pardon of her evil doing, saying that she had been mad; nor did Gudruda
withhold it, for of all women she was the gentlest and most forgiving. But =
to
Eric, Swanhild said nothing.
The wedding-feast
must be held on the third day from this, for Atli would sail on that same d=
ay,
since his people wearied of waiting and his ship might lie bound no longer.
Blithe was Atli the Earl, and Swanhild was all changed, for now she seemed =
the
gentlest of maids, and, as befitted one about to be made a wife, moved thro=
ugh
the house with soft words and downcast eyes. But Skallagrim, watching her,
bethought him of the grey wolf that he had seen by Goldfoss, and this seemed
not well to him.
"It would be=
bad
now," he said to Eric, as they rode to Coldback, "to stand in yon=
old
earl's shoes. This woman's weather has changed too fast, and after such a c=
alm
there'll come a storm indeed. I am now minded of Thorunna, for she went jus=
t so
the day before she gave herself to Ospakar, and me to shame and bonds."=
;
"Talk not of=
the
raven till you hear his croak," said Eric.
"He is on the
wing, lord," answered Skallagrim.
Now Eric came to
Coldback in the Marsh, and Saevuna his mother and Unna, Thorod's daughter, =
the
betrothed of Asmund, were glad to welcome him; for the tidings of his mighty
deeds and of the overthrow of Ospakar and the slaying of Mord were noised f=
ar
and wide. But at Skallagrim Lambstail they looked askance. Still, when they
heard of those things that he had wrought on Horse-Head Heights, they welco=
med
him for his deed's sake.
Eric sat two nigh=
ts
at Coldback, and on the second day Saevuna his mother and Unna rode thence =
with
their servants to the wedding-feast of Swanhild the Fatherless. But Eric
stopped at Coldback that night, saying that he would be at Middalhof within=
two
hours of sunrise, for he must talk with a shepherd who came from the fells.=
Saevuna and her
company came to Middalhof and was asked, first by Gudruda, then by Swanhild,
why Brighteyes tarried. She answered that he would be there early on the
morrow. Next morning, before it was light, Eric girded on Whitefire, took h=
orse
and rode from Coldback alone, for he would not bring Skallagrim, fearing le=
st
he should get drunk at the feast and shed some man's blood.
It was Swanhild's
wedding-day; but she greeted it with little lightsomeness of heart, and her
eyes knew no sleep that night, though they were heavy with tears.
At the first light
she rose, and, gliding from the house, walked through the heavy dew down the
path by which Eric must draw near, for she desired to speak with him. Gudru=
da
also rose a while after, though she did not know this, and followed on the =
same
path, for she would greet her lover at his coming.
Now three furlong=
s or
more from the stead stood a vetch stack, and Swanhild waited on the further
side of this stack. Presently she heard a sound of singing come from behind=
the
shoulder of the fell and of the tramp of a horse's hoofs. Then she saw the
golden wings of Eric's helm all ablaze with the sunlight as he rode merrily
along, and great bitterness laid hold of her that Eric could be of such a
joyous mood on the day when she who loved him must be made the wife of anot=
her
man.
Presently he was
before her, and Swanhild stepped from the shadow of the stack and laid her =
hand
upon his horse's bridle.
"Eric,"=
she
said humbly and with bowed head, "Gudruda sleeps yet. Canst thou, then,
find time to hearken to my words?"
He frowned and sa=
id:
"Methinks, Swanhild, it would be better if thou gavest thy words to him
who is thy lord."
She let the
bridle-rein drop from her hands. "I am answered," she said; "=
;ride
on."
Now pity stirred =
in
Eric's heart, for Swanhild's mien was most heavy, and he leaped down from h=
is
horse. "Nay," he said, "speak on, if thou hast anything to t=
ell
me."
"I have this=
to
tell thee, Eric; that now, before we part for ever, I am come to ask thy pa=
rdon
for my ill-doing--ay, and to wish all joy to thee and thy fair love," =
and
she sobbed and choked.
"Speak no mo=
re
of it, Swanhild," he said, "but let thy good deeds cover up the i=
ll,
which are not small; so thou shalt be happy."
She looked at him
strangely, and her face was white with pain.
"How then ar=
e we
so differently fashioned that thou, Eric, canst prate to me of happiness wh=
en
my heart is racked with grief? Oh, Eric, I blame thee not, for thou hast not
wrought this evil on me willingly; but I say this: that my heart is dead, a=
s I
would that I were dead. See those flowers: they smell sweet--for me they ha=
ve
no odour. Look on the light leaping from Coldback to the sea, from the sea =
to
Westman Isles, and from the Westman crown of rocks far into the wide heavens
above. It is beautiful, is it not? Yet I tell thee, Eric, that now to my ey=
es
howling winter darkness is every whit as fair. Joy is dead within me, music=
's but
a jangled madness in my ears, food hath no savour on my tongue, my youth is
sped ere my dawn is day. Nothing is left to me, Eric, save this fair body t=
hat
thou didst scorn, and the dreams which I may gather from my hours of scanty
sleep, and such shame as befalls a loveless bride."
"Speak not s=
o,
Swanhild," he said, and clasped her by the hand, for, though he loathed
her wickedness, being soft-hearted and but young, it grieved him to hear her
words and see the anguish of her mind. For it is so with men, that they are
easily moved by the pleading of a fair woman who loves them, even though th=
ey
love her not.
"Yea, I will
speak out all my mind before I seal it up for ever. See, Eric, this is my s=
tate
and thou hast set this crown of sorrow on my brows: and thou comest singing
down the fell, and I go weeping o'er the sea! I am not all so ill at heart.=
It
was love of thee that drove me down to sin, as love of thee might otherwise
have lifted me to holiness. But, loving thee as thou seest, this day I wed a
dotard, and go his chattel and his bride across the sea, and leave thee sin=
ging
on the fell, and by thy side her who is my foe. Thou hast done great deeds,=
Brighteyes,
and still greater shalt thou do; yet but as echoes they shall reach my ears.
Thou wilt be to me as one dead, for it is Gudruda's to bind the byrnie on t=
hy
breast when thou goest forth to war, and hers to loose the winged helm from=
thy
brow when thou returnest, battle-worn and conquering."
Now Swanhild ceas=
ed,
and choked with grief; then spoke again:
"So now
farewell; doubtless I weary thee, and--Gudruda waits. Nay, look not on my
foolish tears: they are the heritage of woman, of naught else is she sure!
While I live, Eric, morn by morn the thought of thee shall come to wake me =
as
the sun wakes yon snowy peak, and night by night thy memory shall pass as at
eve he passes from the valleys, but to dawn again in dreams. For, Eric, 'tis
thee I wed to-day--at heart I am thy bride, thine and thine only; and when
shalt thou find a wife who holds thee so dear as that Swanhild whom once th=
ou
knewest? So now farewell! Yes, this time thou shalt kiss away my tears; then
let them stream for ever. Thus, Eric! and thus! and thus! do I take farewel=
l of
thee."
And now she clung
about his neck, gazing on him with great dewy eyes till things grew strange=
and
dim, and he must kiss her if only for her love and tender beauty's sake. An=
d so
he kissed, and it chanced that as they clung thus, Gudruda, passing by this
path to give her betrothed greeting, came upon them and stood astonished. T=
hen
she turned and, putting her hands to her head, fled back swiftly to the ste=
ad,
and waited there, great anger burning in her heart; for Gudruda had this fa=
ult,
that she was very jealous.
Now Eric and Swan=
hild
did not see her, and presently they parted, and Swanhild wiped her eyes and
glided thence.
As she drew near =
the
stead she found Gudruda watching.
"Where hast =
thou
been, Swanhild?" she said.
"To bid fare=
well
to Brighteyes, Gudruda."
"Then thou a=
rt
foolish, for doubtless he thrust thee from him."
"Nay, Gudrud=
a,
he drew me to him. Hearken, I say, thou sister. Vex me not, for I go my ways
and thou goest thine. Thou art strong and fair, and hitherto thou hast over=
come
me. But I am also fair, and, if I find space to strike in, I also have a sh=
ow
of strength. Pray thou that I find not space, Gudruda. Now is Eric thine.
Perchance one day he may be mine. It lies in the lap of the Norns."
"Fair words =
from
Atli's bride," mocked Gudruda.
"Ay, Atli's
bride, but never Atli's love!" said Swanhild, and swept on.
A while after Eric
rode up. He was shamefaced and vexed at heart, because he had yielded thus =
to
Swanhild's beauty, and been melted by her tender words and kissed her. Then=
he
saw Gudruda, and at the sight of her all thought of Swanhild passed from hi=
m,
for he loved Gudruda and her alone. He leapt down from his horse and ran to
her. But, drawn to her full height, she stood with dark flashing eyes and f=
air
face set in anger.
Still, he would h=
ave
greeted her loverwise; but she lifted her hand and waved him back, and fear
took hold of him.
"What now,
Gudruda?" he asked, faltering.
"What now,
Eric?" she answered, faltering not. "Hast seen Swanhild?"
"Yea, I have
seen Swanhild. She came to bid farewell to me. What of it?"
"What of it?=
Why
' thus! and thus! and thus! ' didst thou bid farewell to Atli's bride. Ay,
'thus and thus,' with clinging lips and twined arms. Warm and soft was thy
farewell kiss to her who would have slain me, Brighteyes!"
"Gudruda, th=
ou
speakest truth, though how thou sawest I know not. Think no ill of it, and
scourge me not with words, for, sooth to say, I was melted by her grief and=
the
music of her talk."
"It is shame=
to
thee so to speak of her whom but now thou heldest in thine arms. By the gri=
ef
and the music of the talk of her who would have murdered me thou wast melted
into kisses, Eric!--for I saw it with these eyes. Knowest thou what I am mi=
nded
to say to thee? It is this: 'Go hence and see me no more;' for I have little
wish to cleave to such a feather-man, to one so blown about by the first br=
eath
of woman's tempting."
"Yet, methin=
ks,
Gudruda, I have withstood some such winds. I tell thee that, hadst thou bee=
n in
my place, thyself hadst yielded to Swanhild and kissed her in farewell, for=
she
was more than woman in that hour."
"Nay, Eric, =
I am
no weak man to be led astray thus. Yet she is more than woman--troll is she
also, that I know; but less than man art thou, Eric, thus to fall before her
who hates me. Time may come when she shall woo thee after a stronger sort, =
and
what wilt thou say to her then, thou who art so ready with thy kisses?"=
;
"I will
withstand her, Gudruda, for I love thee only, and this is well known to
thee."
"Truly I know
thou lovest me, Eric; but tell me of what worth is this love of man that ey=
es
of beauty and tongue of craft may so readily bewray? I doubt me of thee,
Eric!"
"Nay, doubt =
me
not, Gudruda. I love thee alone, but I grew soft as wax beneath her pleadin=
g.
My heart consented not, yet I did consent. I have no more to say."
Now Gudruda looke=
d on
him long and steadfastly. "Thy plight is sorry, Eric," she said,
"and this once I forgive thee. Look to it that thou givest me no more =
cause
to doubt thee, for then I shall remember how thou didst bid farewell to
Swanhild."
"I will give none," he answered, and would have embraced her; but this she would not suffer then, nor for many days after, for she was angry with him. But with Swanhild she was still more angry, though she said nothing of it. That Swan= hild had tried to murder her, Gudruda could forgive, for there she had failed; b= ut not that she had won Eric to kiss her, for in this she had succeeded well.<= o:p>
=
XII - HOW ERIC WAS OUTLAW=
ED
AND SAILED A-VIKING
Now the
marriage-feast went on, and Swanhild, draped in white and girt about with g=
old,
sat by Atli's side upon the high seat. He was fain of her and drew her to h=
im,
but she looked at him with cold calm eyes in which hate lurked. The feast w=
as
done, and all the company rode to the sea strand, where the Earl's ship lay=
at
anchor. They came there, and Swanhild kissed Asmund, and talked a while with
Groa, her mother, and bade farewell to all men. But she bade no farewell to
Eric and to Gudruda.
"Why sayest =
thou
no word to these two?" asked Atli, her husband.
"For this
reason, Earl," she answered, "because ere long we three shall meet
again; but I shall see Asmund, my father, and Groa, my mother, no more.&quo=
t;
"That is an =
ill
saying, wife," said Atli. "Methinks thou dost foretell their
doom."
"Mayhap! And=
now
I will add to my redes, for I foretell =
span>thy
doom also: it is not yet, but it d=
raws
on."
Then Atli bethoug=
ht
him of many wise saws, but spoke no more, for it seemed to him this was a s=
trange
bride that he had wed.
They hauled the
anchor home, shook out the great sail, and passed away into the evening nig=
ht.
But while land could still be seen, Swanhild stood near the helm, gazing wi=
th
her blue eyes upon the lessening coast. Then she passed to the hold, and sh=
ut
herself in alone, and there she stayed, saying that she was sick, till at
length, after a fair voyage of twenty days, they made the Orkney Islands.
But all this plea=
sed
Atli wondrous ill, yet he dared not cross her mood.
Now, in Iceland t=
he
time drew on when men must ride to the Althing, and notice was given to Eric
Brighteyes of many suits that were laid against him, in that he had brought
Mord, Ospakar's son, to his death, dealing him a brain or a body or a marrow
wound, and others of that company. But no suits were laid against Skallagri=
m,
for he was already outlaw. Therefore he must go in hiding, for men were out=
to
slay him, and this he did unwillingly, at Eric's bidding. Asmund took up Er=
ic's
case, for he was the most famous of all lawmen in that day, and when thirte=
en
full weeks of summer were done, they two rode to the Thing, and with them a=
great
company of men of their quarter.
Now, men go up to=
the
Lögberg, and there came Ospakar, though he was not yet healed of his wound,=
and
all his company, and laid their suits against Eric by the mouth of Gizur the
Lawman, Ospakar's son. The pleadings were long and cunning on either side; =
but
the end of it was that Ospakar brought it about, by the help of his
friends--and of these had many--that Eric must go into outlawry for three
years. But no weregild was to be paid to Ospakar and his men for those who =
had
been killed, and no atonement for the great wound that Skallagrim Lambstail=
gave
him, or for the death of Mord, his son, inasmuch as Eric fought for his own
hand to save his life.
The party of Ospa=
kar
were ill pleased at this finding, and Eric was not over glad, for it was li=
ttle
to his mind that he should sail a-warring across the seas, while Gudruda sa=
t at
home in Iceland. Still, there was no help for the matter.
Now Ospakar spoke
with his company, and the end of it was that he called on them to take their
weapons and avenge themselves by their own might. Asmund and Eric, seeing t=
his,
mustered their army of freemen and thralls. There were one hundred and five=
of
them, all stout men; but Ospakar Blacktooth's band numbered a hundred and
thirty-three, and they stood with their backs to the Raven's Rift.
"Now I would
that Skallagrim was here to guard my back," said Eric, "for before
this fight is done few will left standing to tell its tale."
"It is a sad
thing," said Asmund, "that so many men must die because some men =
are
now dead."
"A very sad
thing," said Eric, and took this counsel. He stalked alone towards the
ranks of Ospakar and called in a loud voice, saying:
"It would be
grievous that so many warriors should fall in such a matter. Now hearken, y=
ou
company of Ospakar Blacktooth! If there be any two among you who will dare =
to
match their might against my single sword in holmgang, here I, Eric Brighte=
yes,
stand and wait them. It is better that one man, or perchance three men, sho=
uld
fall, than that anon so many should roll in the dust. What say ye?"
Now all those who
watched called out that this was a good offer and a manly one, though it mi=
ght
turn out ill for Eric; but Ospakar answered:
"Were I but =
well
of my wound I alone would cut that golden comb of thine, thou braggart; as =
it
is, be sure that two shall be found."
"Who is the
braggart?" answered Eric. "He who twice has learned the weight of
this arm and yet boasts his strength, or I who stand craving that two should
come against me? Get thee hence, Ospakar; get thee home and bid Thorunna, t=
hy
leman, whom thou didst beguile from that Ounound who now is named Skallagri=
m Lambstail
the Baresark, nurse thee whole of the wound her husband gave thee. Be sure =
we
shall yet stand face to face, and that combs shall be cut then, combs black=
or
golden. Nurse thee! nurse thee! cease thy prating--get thee home, and bid
Thorunna nurse thee; but first name thou the two who shall stand against me=
in holmgang
in Oxarà's stream."
Folk laughed aloud
while Eric mocked, but Ospakar gnashed his teeth with rage. Still, he named=
the
two mightiest men in his company, bidding them take up their swords against
Brighteyes. This, indeed, they were loth to do; still, because of the shame
that they must get if they hung back, and for fear of the wrath of Ospakar,
they made ready to obey his bidding.
Then all men pass=
ed
down to the bank of Oxarà, and, on the other side, people came from their
booths and sat upon the slope of All Man's Raft, for it was a new thing that
one man should fight two in holmgang.
Now Eric crossed =
to
the island where holmgangs are fought to this day, and after him came the t=
wo
chosen, flourishing their swords bravely, and taking counsel how one should
rush at his face, while the other passed behind his back and spitted him, as
woodfolk spit a lamb. Eric drew Whitefire and leaned on it, waiting for the
word, and all the women held him to be wondrous fair as, clad in his byrnie=
and
his golden helm, he leaned thus on Whitefire. Presently the word was given,=
and
Eric, standing not to defend himself as they deemed he surely would, whirle=
d Whitefire
round his helm and rushed headlong on his foes, shield aloft.
The great carles =
saw
the light that played on Whitefire's edge and the other light that burned in
Eric's eyes, and terror got hold of them. Now he was almost come, and White=
fire
sprang aloft like a tongue of flame. Then they stayed no more, but, running=
one
this way and one that, cast themselves into the flood and swam for the
river-edge. Now from either bank rose up a roar of laughter, that grew and
grew, till it echoed against the lava rifts and scared the ravens from their
nests.
Eric, too, stopped
his charge and laughed aloud; then walked back to where Asmund stood, unarm=
ed,
to second him in the holmgang.
"I can get
little honour from such champions as these," he said.
"Nay,"
answered Asmund, "thou hast got the greatest honour, and they, and
Ospakar, such shame as may not be wiped out."
Now when Blacktoo=
th
saw what had come to pass, he well-nigh choked, and fell from his horse in
fury. Still, he could find no stomach for fighting, but, mustering his comp=
any,
rode straightway from the Thing home again to Swinefell. But he caused those
two whom he had put up to do battle with Eric to be set upon with staves and
driven from his following, and the end of it was that they might stay no mo=
re
in Iceland, but took ship and sailed south, and now they are out of the sto=
ry.
On the next day,
Asmund, and with him Eric and all their men, rode back to Middalhof. Gudruda
greeted Eric well, and for the first time since Swanhild went away she kiss=
ed
him. Moreover, she wept bitterly when she learned that he must go into
outlawry, while she must bide at home.
"How shall t=
he
days pass by, Eric?" she said, "when thou art far, and I know not
where thou art, nor how it goes with thee, nor if thou livest or art already
dead?"
"In sooth I
cannot say, sweet," he answered; "but of this I am sure that,
wheresoever I am, yet more weary shall be my hours."
"Three
years," she went on--"three long, cold years, and no sight of the=
e,
and perchance no tidings from thee, till mayhap I learn that thou art in th=
at land
whence tidings cannot come. Oh, it would be better to die than to part
thus."
"Well I wot =
that
it is better to die than to live, and better never to have been born than to
live and die," answered Eric sadly. "Here, it would seem, is noth=
ing
but hate and strife, weariness and bitter envy to fret away our strength, a=
nd
at last, if we come so far, sorrowful age and death, and thereafter we know=
not
what. Little of good do we find to our hands, and much of evil; nor know I =
for
what ill-doing these burdens are laid upon us. Yet must we needs breathe su=
ch
an air as is blown about us, Gudruda, clasping at this happiness which is
given, though we may not hold it. At the worst, the game will soon be playe=
d,
and others will stand where we have stood, and strive as we have striven, a=
nd
fail as we have failed, and so on, till man has worked out his doom, and th=
e Gods
cease from their wrath, or Ragnarrök come upon them, and they too are lost =
in
the jaws of grey wolf Fenrir."
"Men may win=
one
good thing, and that is fame, Eric."
"Nay, Gudrud=
a,
what is it to win fame? Is it not to raise up foes, as it were, from the ve=
ry
soil, who, made with secret hate, seek to stab us in the back? Is it not to
lose peace, and toil on from height to height only to be hurled down at las=
t?
Happy, then, is the man whom fame flies from, for hers is a deadly gift.&qu=
ot;
"Yet there is
one thing left that thou hast not numbered, Eric, and it is love--for love =
is
to our life what the sun is to the world, and, though it seems to set in de=
ath,
yet it may rise again. We are happy, then, in our love, for there are many =
who
live their lives and do not find it."
So these two, Eric
Brighteyes and Gudruda the Fair, talked sadly, for their hearts were heavy,=
and
on them lay the shadow of sorrows that were to come.
"Say,
sweet," said Eric at length, "wilt thou that I go not into banish=
ment?
Then I must fall into outlawry, and my life will be in the hands of him who=
may
take it; yet I think that my foes will find it hard to come by while my
strength remains, and at the worst I do but turn to meet the fate that dogs
me."
"Nay, that I
will not suffer, Brighteyes. Now we will go to my father, and he shall give
thee his dragon of war--she is a good vessel--and thou shalt man her with t=
he
briskest men of our quarter: for there are many who will be glad to fare ab=
road
with thee, Eric. Soon she shall be bound and thou shalt sail at once, Eric:=
for
the sooner thou art gone the sooner the three years will be sped, and thou
shalt come back to me. But, oh! that I might go with thee."
Now Gudruda and E=
ric
went to Asmund and spoke of this matter.
"I
desired," he answered, "that thou, Eric, shouldst bide here in Ic=
eland
till after harvest, for it is then that I would take Unna, Thorod's daughte=
r,
to wife, and it was meet that thou shouldst sit at the wedding-feast and gi=
ve
her to me."
"Nay, father,
let Eric go," said Gudruda, "for well begun is, surely, half done=
. He
must remain three years in outlawry: add thou no day to them, for, if he st=
ays
here for long, I know this: that I shall find no heart to let him go, and, =
if
go he must, then I shall go with him."
"That may ne=
ver
be," said Asmund; "thou art too young and fair to sail a-viking d=
own
the sea-path. Hearken, Eric: I give thee the good ship, and now we will go =
about
to find stout men to man her."
"That is a g=
ood
gift," said Eric; and afterwards they rode to the seashore and overhau=
led
the vessel as she lay in her shed. She was a great dragon of war, long and
slender, and standing high at stem and prow. She was fashioned of oak, all
bolted together with iron, and at her prow was a gilded dragon most wonderf=
ully
carved.
Eric looked on her
and his eyes brightened.
"Here rests a
wave-horse that shall bear a viking well," he said.
"Ay,"
answered Asmund, "of all the things I own this ship is the very best. =
She
is so swift that none may catch her, and she can almost go about in her own
length. That gale must be heavy that shall fill her, with thee to steer; ye=
t I
give her to thee freely, Eric, and thou shalt do great deeds with this my g=
ift,
and, if things go well, she shall come back to this shore at last, and thou=
in
her."
"Now I will =
name
this war-gift with a new name," said Eric. "'Gudruda,' I name her:
for, as Gudruda here is the fairest of all women, so is this the fairest of=
all
war-dragons."
"So be it,&q=
uot;
said Asmund.
Then they rode ba=
ck
to Middalhof, and now Eric Brighteyes let it be known that he needed men to
sail the seas with him. Nor did he ask in vain, for, when it was told that =
Eric
went a-viking, so great was his fame grown, that many a stout yeoman and ma=
ny a
great-limbed carle reached down sword and shield and came up to Middalhof to
put their hands in his. For mate, he took a certain man named Hall of Lithd=
ale,
and this because Björn asked it, for Hall was a friend to Björn, and he had,
moreover, great skill in all manner of seamanship, and had often sailed the
Northern Seas--ay, and round England to the coast of France.
But when Gudruda =
saw
this man, she did not like him, because of his sharp face, uncanny eyes, and
smooth tongue, and she prayed Eric to have nothing to do with him.
"It is too l=
ate
now to talk of that," said Eric. "Hall is a well-skilled man, and,
for the rest, fear not: I will watch him."
"Then evil w=
ill
come of it," said Gudruda.
Skallagrim also l=
iked
Hall little, nor did Hall love Skallagrim and his great axe.
At length all were
gathered; they were fifty in number and it is said that no such band of men
ever took ship from Iceland.
Now the great dra=
gon
was bound and her faring goods were aboard of her, for Eric must sail on the
morrow, if the wind should be fair. All day long he stalked to and fro among
his men; he would trust nothing to others, and there was no sword or shield=
in
his company but he himself had proved it. All day long he stalked, and at h=
is
back went Skallagrim Lambstail, axe on shoulder, for he would never leave E=
ric
if he had his will, and they were a mighty pair.
At length all was
ready and men sat down to the faring-feast in the hall at Middalhof, and th=
at
was a great feast. Eric's folk were gathered on the side-benches, and by the
high seat at Asmund's side sat Brighteyes, and near to him where Björn,
Asmund's son, Gudruda, Unna, Asmund's betrothed, and Saevuna, Eric's mother.
For this had been settled between Asmund and Eric, that his mother Saevuna,=
who
was some somewhat sunk in age, should flit from Coldback and come with Unna=
to
dwell at Middalhof. But Eric set a trusty grieve to dwell at Coldback and m=
ind
the farm.
When the
faring-toasts had been drunk, Eric spoke to Asmund and said: "I fear o=
ne
thing, lord, and it is that when I am gone Ospakar will trouble thee. Now, I
pray you all to beware of Blacktooth, for, though the hound is whipped, he =
can
still bite, and it seems that he has not yet put Gudruda from his mind.&quo=
t;
Now Björn had sat
silently, thinking much and drinking more, for he loved Eric less than ever=
on
this day when he saw how all men did him honour and mourned his going, and =
his
father not the least of them.
"Methinks it=
is
thou, Eric," he said, "whom Ospakar hates, and thee on whom he wo=
uld
work his vengeance, and that for no light cause."
"When bad
fortune sits in thy neighbour's house, she knocks upon thy door, Björn.
Gudruda, thy sister, is my betrothed, and thou art a party to this feud,&qu=
ot;
said Eric. "Therefore it becomes thee better to hold her honour and thy
own against this Northlander, than to gird at me for that in which I have no
blame."
Björn grew wroth =
at
these words. "Prate not to me," he said. "Thou art an upstart
who wouldst teach their duty to thy betters--ay, puffed up with light-won f=
ame,
like a feather on the breeze. But I say this: the breeze shall fail, and th=
ou
shalt fall upon the goose's back once more. And I say this also, that, had =
I my
will, Gudruda should wed Ospakar: for he is a mighty chief, and not a
long-legged carle, outlawed for man-slaying."
Now Eric sprang f=
rom
his seat and laid hand upon the hilt of Whitefire, while men murmured in the
hall, for they held this an ill speech of Björn's.
"In thee, it
seems, I have no friend," said Eric, "and hadst thou been any oth=
er
man than Gudruda's brother, forsooth thou shouldst answer for thy mocking
words. This I tell thee, Björn, that, wert thou twice her brother, if thou
plottest with Ospakar when I am gone, thou shalt pay dearly for it when I c=
ome
back again. I know thy heart well: it is cunning and greedy of gain, and fi=
lled
with envy as a cask with ale; yet, if thou lovest to feel it beating in thy
breast, strive not to work me mischief and to put Gudruda from me."
Now Björn sprang =
up
also and drew his sword, for he was white with rage; but Asmund his father
cried, "Peace!" in a great voice.
"Peace!"=
; he
said. "Be seated, Eric, and take no heed of this foolish talk. And for
thee, Björn, art thou the Priest of Middalhof, and Gudruda's father, or am =
I?
It has pleased me to betroth Brighteyes to Gudruda, and it pleased me not to
betroth her to Ospakar, and that is enough for thee. For the rest, Ospakar
would have slain Eric, not he Ospakar, therefore Eric's hands are clean. Th=
ough
thou art my son, I say this, that, if thou workest ill to Eric when he is o=
ver
sea, thou shalt rightly learn the weight of Whitefire: it is a niddering de=
ed
to plot against an absent man."
Eric sat down, but
Björn strode scowling from the hall, and, taking horse, rode south; nor did=
he
and Eric meet again till three years had come and gone, and then they met b=
ut
once.
"Maggots sha=
ll
be bred of that fly, nor shall they lack flesh to feed on," said
Skallagrim in Eric's ears as he watched Björn pass. But Eric bade him be
silent, and turned to Gudruda.
"Look not so
sad, sweet," he said, "for hasty words rise like the foam on mead=
and
pass as soon. It vexes Björn that thy father has given me the good ship: but
his anger will soon pass, or, at the very worst, I fear him not while thou =
art
true to me."
"Then thou h=
ast
little to fear, Eric," she answered. "Look now on thy hair: it gr=
ows
long as a woman's, and that is ill, for at sea the salt will hang to it. Sa=
y,
shall I cut it for thee?"
"Yes, Gudrud=
a."
So she cut his ye=
llow
locks, and one of them lay upon her heart for many a day.
"Now thou sh=
alt
swear to me," she whispered in his ear, "that no other man or wom=
an
shall cut thy hair till thou comest back to me and I clip it again."
"That I swea=
r,
and readily," he answered. "I will go long-haired like a girl for=
thy
sake, Gudruda."
He spoke low, but
Koll the Half-witted, Groa's thrall, heard this oath and kept it in his min=
d.
Very early on the
morrow all men rose, and, taking horse, rode once more to the seaside, till
they came to that shed where the Gudruda lay.
Then, when the ti=
de
was high, Eric's company took hold of the black ship's thwarts, and at his =
word
dragged her with might and main. She ran down the greased blocks and sped on
quivering to the sea, and as her dragon-prow dipped in the water people che=
ered
aloud.
Now Eric must bid
farewell to all, and this he did with a brave heart till at the last he cam=
e to
Saevuna, his mother, and Gudruda, his dear love.
"Farewell,
son," said the old dame; "I have little hope that these eyes shall
look again upon that bonny face of thine, yet I am well paid for my
birth-pains, for few have borne such a man as thou. Think of me at times, f=
or
without me thou hadst never been. Be not led astray of women, nor lead them
astray, or ill shall overtake thee. Be not quarrelsome because of thy great
might, for there is a stronger than the strongest. Spare a fallen foe, and =
take
not a poor man's goods or a brave man's sword; but, when thou smitest, smite
home. So shalt thou win honour, and, at the last, peace, that is more than
honour."
Eric thanked her =
for
her counsel, and kissed her, then turned to Gudruda, who stood, white and
still, plucking at her golden girdle.
"What can I =
say
to thee?" he asked.
"Say nothing,
but go," she answered: "go before I weep."
"Weep not,
Gudruda, or thou wilt unman me. Say, thou wilt think on me?"
"Ay, Eric, by
day and by night."
"And thou wi=
lt
be true to me?"
"Ay, till de=
ath
and after, for so long as thou cleavest to me I will cleave to thee. I will
first die rather than betray thee. But of thee I am not so sure. Perchance =
thou
mayest find Swanhild in thy journeyings and crave more kisses of her?"=
"Anger me no=
t,
Gudruda! thou knowest well that I hate Swanhild more than any other woman. =
When
I kiss her again, then thou mayst wed Ospakar."
"Speak not so
rashly, Eric," she said, and as she spoke Skallagrim drew near.
"If thou
lingerest here, lord, the tide will serve us little round Westmans," he
said, eyeing Gudruda as it were with jealousy.
"I come,&quo=
t;
said Eric. "Gudruda, fare thee well!"
She kissed him and
clung to him, but did not answer, for she could not speak.
=
XIII - HOW HALL THE MATE =
CUT
THE GRAPNEL CHAIN
Gudruda bent her =
head
like a drooping flower, and presently sank to earth, for her knees would be=
ar
her weight no more; but Eric marched to the lip of the sea, his head held h=
igh
and laughing merrily to hide his pain of heart. Here stood Asmund, who grip=
ped
him by both hands, and kissed him on the brow, bidding him good luck.
"I know not
whether we shall meet again," he said; "but, if my hours be sped
before thou returnest, this I charge thee: that thou mindest Gudruda well, =
for
she is the sweetest of all women that I have known, and I hold her the most
dear."
"Fear not for
that, lord," said Eric; "and I pray thee this, that, if I come ba=
ck
no more, as well may happen, do not force Gudruda into marriage, if she wil=
ls
it not, and I think she will have little leaning that way. And I say this a=
lso:
do not count overmuch on Björn thy son, for he has no loyal heart; and bewa=
re
of Groa, who was thy housekeeper, for she loves not that Unna should take h=
er
place and more. And now I thank thee for many good things, and farewell.&qu=
ot;
"Farewell, my
son," said Asmund, "for in this hour thou seemest as a son to
me."
Eric turned to en=
ter
the sea and wade to the vessel, but Skallagrim caught him in his arms as th=
ough
he were but a child, and, wading into the surf till the water covered his
waistbelt, bore him to the vessel and lifted him up so that Eric reached the
bulwarks with his hands.
Then they loosed =
the
cable and got out the oars and soon were dancing over the sea. Presently the
breeze caught them, and they set the great sail and sped away like a gull
towards the Westman Isles. But Gudruda sat on the shore watching till, at
length, the light faded from Eric's golden helm as he stood upon the poop, =
and
the world grew dark to her.
Now Ospakar
Blacktooth had news of this sailing and took counsel of Gizur his son, and =
the
end of it was that they made ready two great ships, dragons of war, and,
placing sixty fighting men in each of them, sailed round the Iceland coast =
to
the Westmans and waited there to waylay Eric. They had spies on the land, a=
nd
from them they learned of Brighteyes' coming, and sailed out to meet him in=
the
channel between the greater and the lesser islands, where they knew that he
must pass.
Now it drew towar=
ds
evening when Eric rowed down this channel, for the wind had fallen and he
desired to be clear at sea. Presently, as the Gudruda came near to the mout=
h of
the channel, that had high cliffs on either hand, Eric saw two long dragons=
of
war--for their bulwarks were shield-hung--glide from the cover of the island
and take their station side by side between him and the open sea.
"Now here are
vikings," said Eric to Skallagrim.
"Now here is
Ospakar Blacktooth," answered Skallagrim, "for well I know that r=
aven
banner of his. This is a good voyage, for we must seek but a little while
before we come to fighting."
Eric bade the men=
lay
on their oars, and spoke:
"Before us is
Ospakar Blacktooth in two great dragons, and he is here to cut us off. Now =
two
choices are left to us: one is to bout ship and run before him, and the oth=
er
to row on and give him battle. What say ye, comrades?"
Hall of Lithdale,=
the
mate, answered, saying:
"Let us go b=
ack,
lest we die. The odds are too great, Eric."
But a man among t=
he
crew cried out, "When thou didst go on holmgang at Thingvalla, Eric,
Ospakar's two chosen champions stood before thee, yet at Whitefire's flash =
they
skurried through the water like startled ducks. It was an omen, for so shall
his great ships fly when we swoop on them." Then the others shouted:
"Ay, ay! Nev=
er
let it be said that we fled from Ospakar--fie on thy woman's talk, Hall!&qu=
ot;
"Then we are=
all
of one mind, save Hall only," said Eric. "Let us put Ospakar to t=
he
proof." And while men shouted "Yea!" he turned to speak with
Skallagrim. The Baresark was gone, for, wasting no breath in words, already=
he
was fixing the long shields on the bulwark rail.
The men busked on
their harness and made them fit for fight, and, when all was ready, Eric
mounted the poop, and with him Skallagrim, and bade the rowers give way. The
Gudruda leapt forward and rushed on towards Ospakar's ships. Now they saw t=
hat
these were bound together with a cable and yet they must go betwixt them.
Eric ran forward =
to
the prow, and with him Skallagrim, and called aloud to a great man who stood
upon the ship to starboard, wearing a black helm with raven's wings:
"Who art thou
that bars the sea against me?"
"I am named
Ospakar Blacktooth," answered the great man.
"And what mu=
st
we lose at thy hands, Ospakar?"
"But one
thing--your lives!" answered Blacktooth.
"Thrice have=
we
stood face to face, Ospakar," said Eric, "and it seems that hithe=
rto
thou hast won no great glory. Now it shall be proved if thy luck has
bettered."
"Art yet hea=
led,
lord, of that prick in the shoulder which thou camest by on Horse-Head
Heights?" roared Skallagrim.
For answer, Ospak=
ar
seized a spear and hurled it straight at Eric, and it had been his death ha=
d he
not caught it in his hand as it flew. Then he cast it back, and that so
mightily that it sped right through the shield of Ospakar and was the bane =
of a
man who stood beside him.
"A gift for a
gift!" laughed Eric. On rushed the Gudruda, but now the cable was stra=
ined
six fathoms from her bow that held together the ships of Ospakar and it was=
too
strong for breaking. Eric looked and saw. Then he drew Whitefire, and while=
all
men wondered, leaped over the prow of the ship and, clasping the golden
dragon's head with his arm, set his feet upon its claws and waited. On sped=
the
ship and spears flew thick and fast about him, but there Brighteyes hung. N=
ow
the Gudruda's bow caught the great rope and strained it taut and, as it rose
beneath her weight, Eric smote swift and strong with Whitefire and clove it=
in
two, so that the severed ends fell with a splash into the quiet water.
Eric sprang back =
to
deck while stones and spears hissed about him.
"That was we=
ll
done, lord," said Skallagrim; "now we shall be snugly berthed.&qu=
ot;
"In oars and=
out
grappling-irons," shouted Eric.
Up rose the rower=
s,
and their war-gear rattled as they rose. They drew in the long oars, and not
before it was time, for now the Gudruda forced her way between the two drag=
ons
of Ospakar and lay with her bow to their sterns. Then with a shout Eric's m=
en
cast the irons and soon the ships were locked fast and the fight began. The
spears flew thick, and on either side some got their death before them. Then
the men of that vessel, named the Raven, which was to larboard of the Gudru=
da,
made ready to board. On they came with a rush, and were driven back, though=
hardly,
for they were many, and those who stood against them few. Again they came,
scrambling over the bulwarks, and this time a score of them leapt aboard. E=
ric
turned from the fight against the dragon of Ospakar and saw it. Then, with
Skallagrim, he rushed to meet the boarders as they swarmed along the hold, =
and
naught might they withstand the axe and sword.
Through and throu=
gh
them swept the mighty pair, now Whitefire flashed, and now the great axe fe=
ll,
and at every stroke a man lay dead or wounded. Six of the boarders turned to
fly, but just then the grappling-iron broke and their ship drifted out with=
the
tide towards the open sea, and presently no man of that twenty was left ali=
ve.
Now the men of the
ship of Ospakar and of the Gudruda pressed each other hard. Thrice did Ospa=
kar
strive to come aboard and thrice he was pushed back. Eric was ever where he=
was
most needed, and with him Skallagrim, for these two threw themselves from s=
ide
to side, and were now here and now there, so that it seemed as though there
were not one golden helm and one black, but rather four on board the Gudrud=
a.
Eric looked and s=
aw
that the other ship was drawing round, though somewhat slowly, to come
alongside of them once more.
"Now we must
make an end of Ospakar, else our hands will be overfull," he said, and
therewith sprang up upon the bulwarks and after him many men. Once they were
driven back, but came on again, and now they thrust all Ospakar's men before
them and passed up his ship on both boards. By the mast stood Ospakar and w=
ith
him Gizur his son, and Eric strove to come to him. But many men were between
them, and he could not do this.
Presently, while =
the
fight yet went on hotly and men fell fast, Brighteyes felt the dragon of
Ospakar strike, and, looking, saw that they had drifted with the send of the
tide on to the rocks of the island. There was a great hole in the hull
amidships and the water rushed in fast.
"Back! men;
back!" he cried, and all his folk that were unhurt, ran, and leapt on
board the Gudruda; but Ospakar and his men sprang into the sea and swam for=
the
shore. Then Skallagrim cut loose the grappling-irons with his axe, and that=
not
too soon, for, scarcely had they pushed clear with great toil when the long
warship slipped from the rock and foundered, taking many dead and wounded m=
en
with her.
Now Ospakar and s=
ome
of his people stood safe upon the rocks, and Eric called to him in mockery,
bidding him come aboard the Gudruda.
Ospakar made no
answer, but stood gnawing his hand, while the water ran from him. Only Gizur
his son cursed them aloud.
Eric was greatly
minded to follow them, and land and fight them there; but he might not do t=
his,
because of the rocks and of the other dragon, that hung about them, fearing=
to
come on and yet not willing to go back.
"We will have
her, at the least," said Eric, and bade the rowers get out their oars.=
Now, when the men=
on
board the other ship saw the Gudruda drawing on, they took to their oars at
once and rowed swiftly for the sea, and at this a great roar of laughter we=
nt
down Eric's ship.
"They shall =
not
slip from us so easily," said Eric; "give way, comrades, and after
them."
But the men were =
much
wearied with fighting, and the decks were all cumbered with dead and wounde=
d,
so that by the time that the Gudruda had put about, and come to the mouth of
the waterway, Ospakar's vessel had shaken out her sails and caught the wind,
that now blew strong off shore, and sped away six furlongs or more from Eri=
c's
prow.
"Now we shall
see how the Gudruda sails," said Eric, and they spread their canvas and
gave chase.
Then Eric bade men
clear the decks of the dead, and tend the wounded. He had lost seven men sl=
ain
outright, and three were wounded, one to death. But on board the ship there=
lay
of Ospakar's force twenty and three dead men.
When all were cast
into the sea, men ate and rested.
"We have not
done so badly," said Eric to Skallagrim.
"We shall do
better yet," said Skallagrim to Eric; "rather had I seen Ospakar's
head lying in the scuppers than those of all his carles; for he may get more
men, but never another head!"
Now the wind
freshened till by midnight it blew strongly. The mate Hall came to Eric and
said:
"The Gudruda
dips her nose deep in Ran's cup. Say, Eric, shall we shorten sail?"
"Nay,"
answered Eric, "keep her full and bail. Where yonder Raven flies, my
Sea-stag must follow," and he pointed to the warship that rode the wav=
es
before them.
After midnight cl=
ouds
came up, with rain, and hid the face of the night-sun and the ship they sou=
ght.
The wind blew ever harder, till at length, when the rain had passed and the
clouds lifted, there was much water in the hold and the bailers could hardly
stand at their work.
Men murmured, and
Hall the mate murmured most of all; but still Eric held on, for there, not =
two
furlongs ahead of them, rode the dragon of Ospakar. But now, being afraid of
the wind and sea, she had lowered her sail somewhat, and made as though she
would put about and run for Iceland.
"That she may
not do," called Eric to Skallagrim, "if once she rolls side on to
those seas Ran has her, for she must fill and sink."
"So they hol=
d,
lord," answered Skallagrim; "see, once more she runs!"
"Ay, but we =
run
faster--she is outsailed. Up, men, up: for presently the fight begins."=
;
"It is bad to
join battle in such a sea," quoth Hall.
"Good or
bad," growled Skallagrim, "do thou thy lord's bidding," and =
he half
lifted up his axe.
The mate said no
more, for he misdoubted him of Skallagrim Lambstail and his axe.
Then men made rea=
dy
for the fray as best they might, and stood, sword in hand and drenched with=
foam,
clinging to the bulwarks of the Gudruda as she wallowed through the seas.
Eric went aft to =
the
helm and seized it. Now but a length ahead Ospakar's ship laboured on benea=
th
her small sail, but the Gudruda rushed towards her with all canvas set and =
at
every leap plunged her golden dragon beneath the surf and shook the water f=
rom
her foredeck.
"Make ready =
the
grapnel!" shouted Eric through the storm. Skallagrim seized the iron a=
nd
stood by. Now the Gudruda rushed alongside the Raven, and Eric steered so
skilfully that there was a fathom space, and no more, between the ships.
Skallagrim cast t=
he
iron well and truly, so that it hooked and held. On sped the Gudruda and the
cable tautened--now her stern kissed the bow of Ospakar's ship, as though s=
he
was towing her, and thus for a space they travelled through the seas.
Eric's folk shout=
ed
and strove to cast spears; but they did this but ill, because of the rockin=
g of
the vessel. As for Ospakar's men, they clung to their bulwarks and did noth=
ing,
for all the heart was out of them between fear of Eric and terror of the se=
a.
Eric called to a man to hold the helm, and Skallagrim crept aft to where he
stood.
"What counsel
shall we take now?" said Eric, and as he spoke a sea broke over them--=
for
the gale was strong.
"Board them =
and
make an end," answered Skallagrim.
"Rough work;
still, we will try it," said Eric, "for we may not lie thus for l=
ong,
and I am loath to leave them."
Then Eric called =
for
men to follow him, and many answered, creeping as best they might to where =
he
stood.
"Thou art ma=
d,
Eric," said Hall the mate; "cut loose and let us drive, else we s=
hall
both founder, and that is a poor tale to tell."
Eric took no heed,
but, watching his chance, leapt on to the bows of the Raven, and after him =
leapt
Skallagrim. Even as he did so, a great sea came and swept past and over the=
m,
so that half the ship was hid for foam. Now, Hall the mate stood near to the
grapnel cable, and, fearing lest they should sink, out of the cowardice of =
his
heart, he let his axe fall upon the chain, and severed it so swiftly that no
man saw him, except Skallagrim only. Forward sprang the Gudruda, freed from=
her
burden, and rushed away before the wind, leaving Eric and Skallagrim alone =
upon
the Raven's prow.
"Now we are =
in
an evil plight," said Eric, "the cable has parted!"
"Ay,"
answered Skallagrim, "and that losel Hall hath parted it! I saw his axe
fall."
=
XIV - HOW ERIC DREAMED A
DREAM
Now, when the men=
of
Ospakar, who were gathered on the poop of the Raven, saw what had come abou=
t,
they shouted aloud and made ready to slay the pair. But Eric and Skallagrim
clambered to the mast and got their backs against it, and swiftly made
themselves fast with a rope, so that they might not fall with the rolling of
the ship. Then the people of Ospakar came on to cut them down.
But this was no e=
asy
task, for they might scarcely stand, and they could not shoot with the bow.
Moreover, Eric and Skallagrim, being bound to the mast, had the use of both
hands and were minded to die hard. Therefore Ospakar's folks got but one th=
ing
by their onslaught, and that was death, for three of their number fell bene=
ath
the long sweep of Whitefire, and one bowed before the axe of Skallagrim. Th=
en
they drew back and strove to throw spears at these two, but they flew wide
because of the rolling of the vessel. One spear struck the mast near the he=
ad
of Skallagrim. He drew it out, and, waiting till the ship steadied herself =
in
the trough of the sea, hurled it at a knot of Ospakar's thralls, and a man =
got
his death from it. After that they threw no more spears.
Thence once more =
the
crew came on with swords and axes, but faint-heartedly, and the end of it w=
as
that they lost some more men dead and wounded and fell back again.
Skallagrim mocked=
at
them with bitter words, and one of them, made mad by his scoffing, cast a h=
eavy
ballast-stone at him. It fell upon his shoulder and numbed him.
"Now I am un=
meet
for fight, lord," said Skallagrim, "for my right arm is dead and I
can scarcely hold my axe."
"That is ill=
, then,"
said Eric, "for we have little help, except from each other, and I, to=
o,
am well-nigh spent. Well, we have done a great deed and now it is time to
rest."
"My left arm=
is
yet whole, lord, and I can make shift for a while with it. Cut loose the co=
rd before
they bait us to death, and let us rush upon these wolves and fall
fighting."
"A good
counsel," said Eric, "and a quick end; but stay a while: what plan
have they now?"
Now the men of
Ospakar, having little heart left in them for such work as this, had taken
thought together.
"We have got
great hurt, and little honour," said the mate. "There are but
nineteen of us left alive, and that is scarcely enough to work the ship, an=
d it
seems that we shall be fewer before Eric Brighteyes and Skallagrim Lambstail
lie quiet by yonder mast. They are mighty men, indeed, and it would be bett=
er,
methinks, to deal with them by craft, rather than by force."
The sailors said =
that
this was a good word, for they were weary of the sight of Whitefire as he
flamed on high and the sound of the axe of Skallagrim as it crashed through
helm and byrnie; and as fear crept in valour fled out.
"This is my
rede, then," said the mate: "that we go to them and give them pea=
ce,
and lay them in bonds, swearing that we will put them ashore when we are co=
me
back to Iceland. But when we have them fast, as they sleep at night, we will
creep on them and hurl them into the sea, and afterwards we will say that we
slew them fighting."
"A shameful
deed!" said a man.
"Then go tho=
u up
against them," answered the mate. "If we slay them not, then shall
this tale be told against us throughout Iceland: that a ship's company were
worsted by two men, and we may not live beneath that dishonour."
The man held his
peace, and the mate, laying down his arms, crept forward alone, towards the
mast, just as Eric and Skallagrim were about to cut themselves loose and ru=
sh
on them.
"What woulde=
st
thou?" shouted Eric. "Has it gone so well with you with arms that=
ye
are minded to come up against us bearing none?"
"It has gone
ill, Eric," said the mate, "for ye twain are too mighty for us. We
have lost many men, and we shall lose more ere ye are laid low. Therefore we
make you this offer: that you lay down your weapons and suffer yourselves t=
o be
bound till such time as we touch land, where we will set you ashore, and gi=
ve
you your arms again. Meanwhile, we will deal with you in friendly fashion,
giving you of the best we have; nor will we set foot any suit against you f=
or
those of our number whom ye two have slain."
"Wherefore t=
hen
should we be bound?" said Eric.
"For this re=
ason
only: that we dare not leave you free within our ship. Now choose, and, if =
ye
will, take peace, which we swear by all the Gods we will keep towards you, =
and,
if ye will not, then we will bear you down with beams and sails and stones,=
and
slay you."
"What thinke=
st
thou, Skallagrim?" said Eric beneath his breath.
"I think tha=
t I
find little faith in yon carle's face," answered Skallagrim. "Sti=
ll,
I am unfit to fight, and thy strength is spent, so it seems that we must lie
low if we would rise again. They can scarcely be so base as to do murder ha=
ving
handselled peace to us."
"I am not so
sure of that," said Eric; "still, starving beggars must eat bones.
Hearken thou: we take the terms, trusting to your honour; and I say this: t=
hat
ye shall get shame and death if ye depart from them to harm us."
"Have no fea=
r,
lord," said the mate, "we are true men."
"That we sha=
ll
look to your deeds to learn," said Eric, laying down his sword and shi=
eld.
Skallagrim did
likewise, though with no good grace. Then men came with strong cords and bo=
und
them fast hand and foot, handling them fearsomely as men handle a live bear=
in
a net. Then they led them forward to the prow.
As they went Eric
looked up. Yonder, twenty furlongs and more away, sailed the Gudruda.
"This is good
fellowship," said Skallagrim, "thus to leave us in the trap."=
;
"Nay,"
answered Eric. "They cannot put about in such a sea, and doubtless also
they think us dead. Nevertheless, if ever it comes about that Hall and I st=
and
face to face again, there will be need for me to think of gentleness."=
"I shall thi=
nk
little thereon," growled Skallagrim.
Now they were com=
e to
the prow, and there was a half deck under which they were set, out of reach=
of
the wind and water. In the deck was a stout iron ring, and the men made them
fast with ropes to it, so that they might move but little, and they set the=
ir
helms and weapons behind them in such fashion that they could not come at t=
hem.
Then they flung cloaks about them, and brought them food and drink, of which
they stood much in need, and treated them well in every way. But for all th=
is Skallagrim
trusted them no more.
"We are
new-hooked, lord," he said, "and they give us line. Presently they
will haul us in."
"Evil comes =
soon
enough," answered Eric, "no need to run to greet it," and he
fell to thinking of Gudruda, and of the day's deeds, till presently he drop=
ped
asleep, for he was very weary.
Now it chanced th=
at
as Eric slept he dreamed a dream so strong and strange that it seemed to li=
ve
within him. He dreamed that he slept there beneath the Raven's deck, and th=
at a
rat came and whispered spells into his ear. Then he dreamed that Swanhild
glided towards him, walking on the stormy seas. He saw her afar, and she ca=
me
swiftly, and ever the sea grew smooth before her feet, nor did the wind so =
much
as stir her hair. Presently she stood by him in the ship, and, bending over
him, touched him on the shoulder, saying:
"Awake, Eric
Brighteyes! Awake! awake!"
It seemed to him =
that
he awoke and said "What tidings, Swanhild?" and that she answered=
:
"Ill tidings,
Eric--so ill that I am come hither from Straumey[*] to tell of them--ay, co=
me
walking on the seas. Had Gudruda done so much, thinkest thou?"
[*] Stroma, the
southernmost of the Orkneys.
"Gudruda is =
no
witch," he said in his dream.
"Nay, but I =
am a
witch, and it is well for thee, Eric. Ay, I am a witch. Now do I seem to sl=
eep
at Atli's side, and lo! here I stand by thine, and I must journey back agai=
n many
a league before another day be born--ay, many a league, and all for love of
thee, Eric! Hearken, for not long may the spell endure. I have seen this by=
my
magic: that these men who bound thee come even now to take thee, sleeping, =
and
cast thee and thy thrall into the deep, there to drown."
"If it is fa=
ted
it will befall," he said in his dream.
"Nay, it sha=
ll
not befall. Put forth all thy might and burst thy bonds. Then fetch Whitefi=
re;
cut away the bonds of Skallagrim, and give him his axe and shield. This don=
e,
cover yourselves with your cloaks, and wait till ye hear the murderers come.
Then rise and rush upon them, the two of you, and they shall melt before yo=
ur
might. I have journeyed over the great deep to tell thee this, Eric! Had
Gudruda done as much, thinkest thou?"
And it seemed to =
him
that the wraith of Swanhild kissed him on the brow, sighed and vanished,
bearing the rat in her bosom.
Eric awoke sudden=
ly,
just as though he had never slept, and looked around. He knew by the lownes=
s of
the sun that it was far into the night, and that he had slept for many hour=
s.
They were alone beneath the deck, and far aft, beyond the mast, as the vess=
el
rose upon the waves--for the sea was still rough, though the wind had
fallen--Eric saw the mate of the Raven talking earnestly with some men of h=
is
crew. Skallagrim snored beside him.
"Awake!"
Eric said in his ear, "awake and listen!"
He yawned and rou=
sed
himself. "What now, lord?" he said.
"This,"
said Eric, and he told him the dream that he had dreamed.
"That was a =
fey
dream," said Skallagrim, "and now we must do as the wraith bade
thee."
"Easy to say,
but hard to do," quoth Eric; "this is a great rope that holds us,=
and
a strong."
"Yes, it is
great and strong; still, we must burst it."
Now Eric and Skal=
lagrim
were made fast in this fashion: their hands were bound behind them, and the=
ir
legs were lashed above the feet and above the knee. Moreover, a thick cord =
was
fixed about the waist of each, and this cord was passed through the iron ri=
ng
and knotted there. But it chanced that beneath the hollows of their knees r=
an
an oaken beam, which held the forepart of the dragon together.
"We may try
this," said Eric: "to set our feet against the beam and strain wi=
th
all our strength upon the rope; though I think that no two men can part
it."
"We shall kn=
ow
that presently," said Skallagrim, gathering up his legs.
Then they set the=
ir
feet against the beam and pulled till it groaned; but, though the rope gave
somewhat, it would not break. They rested a while, then strained again till=
the
sweat burst out upon them and the rope cut into their flesh, but still it w=
ould
not part.
"We have fou=
nd
our match," said Eric.
"That is not
altogether proved yet," answered the Baresark. "Many a shield is
riven at the third stroke."
So once again they
set their feet against the beam, and put out all their strength.
"The ring
bends," gasped Eric. "Now, when the roll of the ship throws our
weight to leeward, in the name of Thor pull!"
They waited, then=
put
out their might, and lo! though the rope did not break, the iron ring burst
asunder and they rolled upon the deck.
"Well pulled,
truly," said Skallagrim as he struggled to his haunches: "I am ma=
rked
about the middle with rope-twists for many a day to come, that I will swear=
. What
next, lord?"
"Whitefire,&=
quot;
answered Eric.
Now, their arms w=
ere
piled a fathom or more from where they sat, and right in the prow of the sh=
ip.
Hither, then, they must crawl upon their knees, and this was weary work, for
ever as the ship rolled they fell, and could in no wise save themselves from
hurt. Eric was bleeding at the brow, and bloody was the hooked nose of
Skallagrim, before they came to where Whitefire was. At length they reached=
the
sword, and pushed aside the bucklers that were over it with their heads. The
great war-blade was sheathed, and Eric must needs lie upon his breast and d=
raw
the weapon somewhat with his teeth.
"This is an =
ill
razor to shave with," he said, rising, for the keen blade had cut his
chin.
"So some have
thought and perchance more shall think," answered Skallagrim. "Now
set the rope on the edge and rub."
This they did, and presently the thick cord that bound them was in two. Then Eric knelt upon t= he deck and pressed the bonds that bound his legs upon the blade, and after him Skallagrim. They were free now, except for their hands, and it was no easy thing to cut away the bonds upon their wrists. It was done thus: Skallagrim= sat upon the deck, and Eric pushed the sword between his fingers with his feet. Then the Baresark rose, holding the sword, and Eric, turning back to back w= ith him, fretted the cords upon his wrists against the blade. Twice he cut hims= elf, but the third time the cord parted and he was free. He stretched his arms, = for they were stiff; then took Whitefire and cut away the bonds of Skallagrim.<= o:p>
"How goes it
with that hurt of thine?" he asked.
"Better than=
I
had thought," answered Skallagrim; "the soreness has come out with
the bruise."
"That is good
news," said Eric, "for methinks, unless Swanhild walked the seas =
for
nothing, thou wilt soon need thine arms."
"They have n=
ever
failed me yet," said Skallagrim and took his axe and shield. "What
counsel now?"
"This,
Skallagrim: that we lie down as we were, and put the cloaks about us as tho=
ugh
we were yet in bonds. Then, if these knaves come, we can take them unawares=
as
they think to take us."
So they went agai=
n to
where they had been bound, and lay down upon their shields and weapons, dra=
wing
cloaks over them. Scarcely had they done this and rested a while, when they=
saw
the mate and all the crew coming along both boards towards them. They bore =
no
weapons in their hands.
"None too so=
on
did Swanhild walk," said Eric; "now we shall learn their purpose.=
Be
thou ready to leap forth when I give the word."
"Ay, lord,&q=
uot;
answered Skallagrim as he worked his stiff arms to and fro. "In such
matters few have thought me backward."
"What news,
friends?" cried Eric as the men drew near.
"Bad news for
thee, Brighteyes," answered the mate, "and that Baresark thrall of
thine, for we must loose your bands."
"That is good
news, then," said Eric, "for our limbs are numb and dead because =
of
the nipping of the cords. Is land in sight?"
"Nay, nor wi=
ll
be for thee, Eric."
"How now,
friend? how now? Sure, having handselled peace to us, ye mean no harm towar=
ds
two unarmed men?"
"We swore to=
do
you no harm, nor will we, Eric; this only will we do: deliver you, bound, to
Ran, and leave her to deal with you as she may."
"Bethink you,
sirs," said Eric: "this is a cruel deed and most unmanly. We yiel=
ded
to you in faith--will ye break your troth?"
"War has no
troth," he answered, "ye are too great to let slip between our
fingers. Shall it be said of us that two men overcame us all?"
"Mayhap!&quo=
t;
murmured Skallagrim beneath his breath.
"Oh, sirs, I
beseech you," said Eric; "I am young, and there is a maid who wai=
ts
me out in Iceland, and it is hard to die," and he made as though he we=
pt,
while Skallagrim laughed within his sleeve, for it was strange to see Eric
feigning fear.
But the men mocked
aloud.
"This is the
great man," they cried, "this is that Eric of whose deeds folk si=
ng!
Look! he weeps like a child when he sees the water. Drag him forth and away
with him into the sea!"
"Little need=
for
that," cried Eric, and lo! the cloaks about him and Skallagrim flew as=
ide.
Out they came with a roar; they came out as a she-bear from her cave, and h=
igh
above Brighteyes' golden curls Whitefire shone in the pale light, and nigh =
to
it shone the axe of Skallagrim. Whitefire flared aloft, then down he fell a=
nd
sought the false heart of the mate. The great axe of Skallagrim shone and w=
as
lost in the breast of the carle who stood before him.
"Trolls!&quo=
t;
shrieked one. "Here are trolls!" and turned to fly. But again Whi=
tefire
was up and that man flew not far--one pace, and no more. Then they fled
screaming and after them came axe and sword. They fled, they fell, they lea=
ped
into the sea, till none were left to fall and leap, for they had no time or
heart to find or draw their weapons, and presently Eric Brighteyes and
Skallagrim Lambstail stood alone upon the deck--alone with the dead.
"Swanhild is=
a
wise witch," gasped Eric, "and, whatever ill she has done, I will
remember this to her honour."
"Little good
comes of witchcraft," answered Skallagrim, wiping his brow: "to-d=
ay
it works for our hands, to-morrow it shall work against them."
"To the
helm," said Eric; "the ship yaws and comes side on to the seas.&q=
uot;
Skallagrim sprang=
to
the tiller and put his strength on it, and but just in time, for one big sea
came aboard them and left much water in the hold.
"We owe this=
to
thy Baresark ways," said Eric. "Hadst thou not slain the steersma=
n we
had not filled with water."
"True,
lord," answered Skallagrim; "but when once my axe is aloft, it se=
ems
to fly of itself, till nothing is left before it. What course now?"
"The same on
which the Gudruda was laid. Perhaps, if we may endure till we come to the F=
arey
Isles,[*] we shall find her in harbour there."
[*] The Faroes.
"There is not
much chance of that," said Skallagrim; "still, the wind is fair, =
and
we fly fast before it."
Then they lashed =
the
tiller and set to bailing. They bailed long, and it was heavy work, but they
rid the ship of much water. After that they ate food, for it was now mornin=
g,
and it came on to blow yet more strongly.
For three days and
three nights it blew thus, and the Raven sped along before the gale. All th=
is
time, turn and turn about, Eric and Skallagrim stood at the helm and tended=
the
sails. They had little time to eat, and none to sleep. They were so hard
pressed also, and must harbour their strength so closely, that the bodies of
the dead men yet cumbered the hold. Thus they grew very weary and like to f=
all
from faintness, but still they held the Raven on her course. In the beginni=
ng
of the fourth night a great sea struck the good ship so that she quivered f=
rom
stem to stern.
"Methinks I =
hear
water bubbling up," said Skallagrim in a hoarse voice.
Eric climbed down
into the well and lifted the bottom planks, and there beneath them was a le=
ak
through which the water spouted in a thin stream. He stopped up the rent as
best he might with garments from the dead men, and placed ballast stones up=
on
them, then clambered on to the deck again.
"Our hours a=
re
short now," he said, "the water rushes in apace."
"Well, it is
time to rest," said Skallagrim; "but see, lord!" and he poin=
ted
ahead. "What land is that?"
"It must be =
the
Fareys," answered Eric; "now, if we can but keep afloat for three
hours more, we may yet die ashore."
After this the wi=
nd
began to fall, but still there was enough to drive the Raven on swiftly.
And ever the water
gained in the hold.
Now they were not=
far
from land, for ahead of them the bleak hills towered up, shining in the fai=
nt
midnight light, and between the hills was a cleft that seemed to be a fjord.
Another hour passed, and they were no more than ten furlongs from the mouth=
of
the fjord, when suddenly the wind fell, and they were in calm water under
shelter of the land. They went amidships and looked. The hold was half full=
of
water, and in it floated the bodies of Ospakar's men.
"She has not
long to live," said Skallagrim, "but we may still be saved if the
boat is not broken."
Now aft, near the
tiller, a small boat was bound on the half deck of the Raven. They went to =
it
and looked; it was whole, with oars lashed in it, but half full of water, w=
hich
they must bail out. This they did as swiftly as they might; then they cut t=
he
little boat loose, and, having made it fast with a rope, lifted it over the
side-rail and let it fall into the sea, and that was no great way, for the
Raven had sunk deep. It fell on an even keel, and Eric let himself down the
rope into it and called to Skallagrim to follow.
"Bide a whil=
e,
lord," he answered; "there is that which I would bring with me.&q=
uot;
For a space Eric
waited and then called aloud, "Swift! thou fool; swift! the ship
sinks!"
And as he called,
Skallagrim came, and his arms were full of swords and byrnies, and red ring=
s of
gold that he had found time to gather from the dead and out of the cabin.
"Throw all a=
side
and come," said Eric, laying on to the oars, for the Raven wallowed be=
fore
she sank.
"There is yet
time, lord, and the gear is good," answered Skallagrim, and one by one=
he
threw pieces down into the boat. As the last fell the Raven sank to her
bulwarks. Then Skallagrim stepped from the sinking deck into the boat, and =
cut
the cord, not too soon.
Eric gave way with
all his strength, and, as he pulled, when he was no more than five fathoms =
from
her, the Raven vanished with a huge swirl.
"Hold
still," he said, "or we shall follow."
Round spun the bo=
at
in the eddy, she was sucked down till the water trickled over her gunwale, =
and
for a moment they knew not if they were lost or saved. Eric held his breath=
and
watched, then slowly the boat lifted her nose, and they were safe from the
whirlpool of the lost dragon.
"Greed is ma=
ny a
man's bane," said Eric, "and it was nearly thine and mine,
Skallagrim."
"I had no he=
art
to leave the good gear," he answered; "and thou seest, lord, it is
safe and we with it."
Then they got the
boat's head round slowly into the mouth of the fjord, pausing now and again=
to
rest, for their strength was spent. For two hours they rowed down a gulf, a=
s it
were, and on either side of them were barren hills. At length the water-way
opened out into a great basin, and there, on the further side of the basin,
they saw green slopes running down to the water's edge, strewn with white
stock-fish set to dry in the wind and sun, and above the slopes a large hal=
l,
and about it booths. Moreover, they saw a long dragon of war at anchor near=
the
shore. For a while they rowed on, easing now and again. Then Eric spoke to
Skallagrim.
"What thinke=
st
thou of yonder ship, Lambstail?"
"I think thi=
s,
lord: that she is fashioned wondrous like to the Gudruda."
"That is in =
my
mind also," said Eric, "and our fortune is good if it is she.&quo=
t;
They rowed on aga=
in,
and presently a ray from the sun came over the hills--for now it was three
hours past midnight--and, the ship having swung a little with the tide, lit
upon her prow, and lo! there gleamed the golden dragon of the Gudruda.
"This is a
strange thing," said Eric.
"Ay, lord, a
strange and a merry, for now I shall talk with Hall the mate," and the
Baresark smiled grimly.
"Thou shalt =
do
no hurt to Hall," said Eric. "I am lord here, and I must judge.&q=
uot;
"Thy will is=
my
will," said Skallagrim; "but if my will were thine, he would hang=
on
the mast till sea-birds nested amidst his bones."
Now they were clo=
se
to the ship, but they could see no man. Skallagrim would have called aloud,=
but
Eric bade him hold his peace.
"Either they=
are
dead, and thy calling cannot wake them, or perchance they sleep and will wa=
ke
of themselves. We will row under the stern, and, having made fast, climb ab=
oard
and see with our own eyes."
This, then, they =
did
as silently as might be, and saw that the Gudruda had not been handled gent=
ly
by the winds and waves, for her shield rail was washed away. This they found
also, that all men lay deep in sleep. Now, amidships a fire still burned, a=
nd
by it was food. They came there and ate of the food, of which they had great
need. Then they took two cloaks that lay on the deck, and, throwing them ab=
out
them, warmed themselves over the fire: for they were cold and wet, ay, and
utterly outworn.
As they sat thus
warming themselves, a man of the crew awoke and saw them, and being amazed,=
at
once called to his fellows, saying that two giants were aboard, warming
themselves at the fire. Now men sprang up, and, seizing their weapons, ran
towards them, and among them was Hall the mate.
Then suddenly Eric
Brighteyes and Skallagrim Lambstail threw aside the cloaks and stood up. Th=
ey
were gaunt and grim to see. Their cheeks were hollow and their eyes stared =
wide
with want of sleep. Thick was their harness with brine, and open wounds gap=
ed
upon their faces and their hands. Men saw and fell back in fear, for they h=
eld
them to be wizards risen from the sea in the shapes of Eric and the Baresar=
k.
Then Eric sang th=
is
song:
"Swift and sure across the Swan's =
Bath Sped Sea-stag on Raven's track, Heav'd Ran's breast in raging billow=
s, Stream'd gale-banners through the sk=
y! Yet did Eric the war-eager Leap with Baresark-mate aboard, Fierce their onset on the foemen! Wherefore brake the grapnel-chain?&q=
uot;
Hall heard and sl=
unk
back, for now he saw that these were indeed Eric and Skallagrim come up ali=
ve
from the sea, and that they knew his baseness.
Eric looked at him
and sang again:
"Swift away sped ship Gudruda, =
Left her lord in foeman's ring; Brighteyes back to back with Baresar=
k Held his head 'gainst mighty odds. <=
span
style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'> Down amidst the ballast tumbling, Ospakar's shield-carles were rolled.=
Holy peace at length they handselled=
, Eric must in bonds be laid!
"Came the Grey Rat, came the Ea=
rl's
wife, Came the witch-word from=
afar;
Cag'd wolves roused them, and =
with
struggling Tore their fetter f=
rom
its hold. Now they watch upon =
their
weapons; Now they weep and pra=
y for
life; Now they leap forth like=
a
torrent-- Swept away in foeman=
's
strength!
"Then alone upon the Raven Three long days they steer and sail,=
Till the waters, welling upwards, Wash dead men about their feet. Fails the gale and sinks the dragon,=
Barely may they win the boat: Safe they stand on ship Gudruda-- Say, who cut the grapnel-chain?"=
;
=
XV - HOW ERIC DWELT IN LO=
NDON
TOWN
Men stood astonis=
hed,
but Hall the mate slunk back.
"Hold,
comrade," said Eric, "I have something to say that songs cannot c=
arry.
Hearken, my shield-mates: we swore to be true to each other, even to death:=
is
it not so? What then shall be said of that man who cut loose the Gudruda and
left us two to die at the foeman's hand?"
"Who was the
man?" asked a voice.
"That man was
Hall of Lithdale," said Eric.
"It is
false!" said Hall, gathering up his courage; "the cable parted be=
neath
the straining of the ship, and afterwards we could not put about because of=
the
great sea."
"Thou art
false!" roared Skallagrim. "With my eyes I saw thee let thine axe
fall upon the cable. Liar art thou and dastard! Thou art jealous also of
Brighteyes thy lord, and this was in thy mind: to let him die upon the Raven
and then to bind his shoes upon thy cowardly feet. Though none else saw, I =
saw;
and I say this: that if I may have my will, I will string thee, living, to =
the
prow in that same cable till gulls tear out thy fox-heart!"
Now Hall grew very
white and his knees trembled beneath him. "It is true," he said,
"that I cut the chain, but not from any thought of evil. Had I not cut=
it
the vessel must have sunk and all been lost."
"Did we not
swear, Hall," said Eric sternly, "together to fight and together =
to
fall--together to fare and, if need be, together to cease from faring, and =
dost
thou read the oath thus? Say, mates, what reward shall be paid to this man =
for
his good fellowship to us and his tenderness for your lives?"
As with one voice=
the
men answered " Death! "
"Thou heares=
t,
Hall?" said Eric. "Yet I would deal more gently with one to whom I
swore fellowship so lately. Get thee gone from our company, and let us see =
thy
cur's face no more. Get thee gone, I say, before I repent of my mercy."=
;
Then amidst a loud
hooting, Hall took his weapons and without a word slunk into the boat of the
Raven that lay astern, and rowed ashore; nor did Eric see his face for many
months.
"Thou hast d=
one
foolishly, lord, to let that weasel go," said Skallagrim, "for he
will live to nip thy hand."
"For good or
evil, he is gone," said Eric, "and now I am worn out and desire to
sleep."
After this Eric a=
nd
Skallagrim rested three full days, and they were so weary that they were aw=
ake
for little of this time. But on the third day they rose up, strong and well,
except for their hurts and soreness. Then they told the men of that which h=
ad
come to pass, and all wondered at their might and hardihood. To them indeed
Eric seemed as a God, for few such deeds as his had been told of since the
God-kind were on earth.
But Brighteyes
thought little of his deeds, and much of Gudruda. At times also he thought =
of
Swanhild, and of that witch-dream she sent him: for it was wonderful to him
that she should have saved him thus from Ran's net.
Eric was heartily
welcomed by the Earl of the Farey Isles, for, when he heard his deeds, he m=
ade
a feast in his honour, and set him in the high seat. It was a great feast, =
but
Skallagrim became drunk at it and ran down the chamber, axe aloft, roaring =
for
Hall of Lithdale.
This angered Eric
much and he would scarcely speak to Skallagrim for many days, though the gr=
eat
Baresark slunk about after him like his shadow, or a whipped hound at its
master's heel, and at length humbled his pride so far as to ask pardon for =
his
fault.
"I grant it =
for
thy deeds' sake," said Eric shortly; "but this is upon my mind: t=
hat
thou wilt err thus again, and it shall be my cause of death--ay, and that of
many more."
"First may my
bones be white," said Skallagrim.
"They shall =
be
white thereafter," answered Eric.
At Fareys Eric
shipped twelve good men and true, to take the seats of those who had been s=
lain
by Ospakar's folk. Afterwards, when the wounded were well of their hurts
(except one man who died), and the Gudruda was made fit to take the sea aga=
in,
Brighteyes bade farewell to the Earl of those Isles, who gave him a good cl=
oak
and a gold ring at parting, and sailed away.
Now it were too l=
ong
to tell of all the deeds that Eric and his men did. Never, so scalds sing, =
was
there a viking like him for strength and skill and hardihood, and, in those
days, no such war-dragon as the Gudruda had been known upon the sea. Wherev=
er
Eric joined battle, and that was in many places, he conquered, for none
prevailed against him, till at last foes would fly before the terror of his
name, and earls and kings would send from far craving the aid of his hands.
Withal he was the best and gentlest of men. It is said of Eric that in all =
his
days he did no base deed, nor hurt the weak, nor refused peace to him who
prayed it, nor lifted sword against prisoner or wounded foe. From traders he
would take a toll of their merchandise only and let them go, and whatever g=
ains
he won he would share equally, asking no larger part than the meanest of his
band. All men loved Eric, and even his foes gave him honour and spoke well =
of
him. Now that Hall of Lithdale was gone, there was no man among his mates w=
ho
would not have passed to death for him, for they held him dearer than their
lives. Women, too, loved him much; but his heart was set upon Gudruda, and =
he
seldom turned to look on them.
The first summer =
of
his outlawry Eric warred along the coast of Ireland, but in the winter he c=
ame
to Dublin, and for a while served in the body-guard of the king of that tow=
n,
who held him in honour, and would have had him stay there. But Eric would n=
ot
bide there, and next spring, the Gudruda being ready for sea, he sailed for=
the
shores of England. There he gave battle to two vikings' ships of war, and t=
ook
them after a hard fight. It was in this fight that Skallagrim Lambstail was
wounded almost to death. For when, having taken one ship, Eric boarded the
other with but few men, he was driven back and fell over a beam, and would =
have
been slain, had not Skallagrim thrown himself across his body, taking on his
own back that blow of a battle-axe which was aimed at Eric's head. This was=
a
great wound, for the axe shore through the steel of the byrnie and sank into
the flesh. But when Eric's men saw their lord down, and Skallagrim, as they
deemed, dead athwart him, they made so fierce a rush that the foemen fell
before them like leaves before a winter gale, and the end of it was that the
vikings prayed peace of Eric. Skallagrim lay sick for many days, but he was
hard to kill, and Eric nursed him back to life. After this these two loved =
each
other as brother loves twin brother, and they could scarcely bear to be apa=
rt. But
other people did not love Skallagrim, nor he them.
Eric sailed on up=
the
Thames to London, bringing the viking ships with him, and he delivered their
captains bound to Edmund, Edward's son, the king who was called Edmund the
Magnificent. These captains the King hung, for they had wrought damage to h=
is
ships.
Eric found much
favour with the King, and, indeed, his fame had gone before him. So when he
came into the court, bravely clad, with Skallagrim at his back, who was now
almost recovered of his wound, the King called out to him to draw near, say=
ing
that he desired to look on the bravest viking and most beauteous man who sa=
iled
the seas, and on that fierce Baresark whom men called "Eric's
Death-shadow."
So Eric came forw=
ard
up the long hall that was adorned with things more splendid than ever his e=
yes
had seen, and stood before the King. With him came Skallagrim, driving the =
two
captive viking chiefs before him with his axe, as a flesher drives lambs. N=
ow,
during these many months Brighteyes had grown yet more great in girth and
glorious to look on than he was before. Moreover, his hair was now so long =
that
it flowed like a flood of gold down towards his girdle, for since Gudruda
trimmed it no shears had come near his head, and his locks grew fast as a w=
oman's.
The King looked at him and was astonished.
"Of a
truth," he said, "men have not lied about thee, Icelander, nor co=
ncerning
that great wolf-hound of thine," and he pointed at Skallagrim with his
sword of state. "Never saw I such a man;" and he bade all the mig=
htiest
men of his body-guard stand forward that he might measure them against Eric.
But Brighteyes was an inch taller than the tallest, and measured half a span
more round the chest than the biggest.
"What woulde=
st
thou of me, Icelander?" asked the King.
"This,
lord," said Eric: "to serve thee a while, and all my men with me.=
"
"That is an
offer that few would turn from," answered the King. "Thou shalt go
into my body-guard, and, if I have my will, thou shalt be near me in battle,
and thy wolf-dog also."
Eric said that he
asked no better, and thereafter he went up with Edmund the King to make war=
on
the Danes of Mercia, and he and Skallagrim did great deeds before the eyes =
of
the Englishmen.
That winter Eric =
and
his company came back to London, and abode with the King in much state and
honour. Now, there was a certain lady of the court named Elfrida. She was b=
oth
fair and wealthy, the sweetest of women, and of royal blood by her mother's
side. So soon as her eyes fell on Eric she loved him, and no one thing did =
she
desire more than to be his wife. But Brighteyes kept aloof from her, for he
loved Gudruda alone; and so the winter wore away, and in the spring he went
away warring, nor did he come back till autumn was at hand.
The Lady Elfrida =
sat
at a window when Eric rode through London Town in the King's following, and=
as
he passed she threw him a wreath of flowers. The King saw it and laughed.
"My cold
kinswoman seems to melt before those bright eyes of thine, Icelander,"=
he
said, "as my foes melt before Whitefire's flame. Well, I could wish he=
r a
worse mate," and he looked on him strangely.
Eric bowed, but m=
ade
no answer.
That night, as th=
ey
sat at meat in the palace, the Lady Elfrida, being bidden in jest of Edmund=
the
King to fill the cup of the bravest, passed down the board, and, before all
men, poured wine into Eric's cup, and, as she did so, welcomed him back with
short sweet words.
Eric grew red as
dawn, and thanked her graciously; but after the feast he spoke with Skallag=
rim,
asking him of the Gudruda, and when she could be ready to take the sea.
"In ten days,
lord," said Skallagrim; "but stay we not here with the King this
winter? It is late to sail."
"Nay," =
said
Eric, "we bide not here. I would winter this year in Fareys, for they =
are
the nighest place to Iceland that I may reach. Next summer my three years of
outlawry are over, and I would fare back homewards."
"Now, I see =
the
shadow of a woman's hand," said Skallagrim. "It is very late to f=
ace
the northern seas, and we may sail to Iceland from London in the spring.&qu=
ot;
"It is my wi=
ll
that we should sail," answered Eric.
"Past Orkneys
runs the road to Fareys," said Skallagrim, "and in Orkneys sits a
hawk to whom the Lady Elfrida is but a dove. In faring from ill we may hap =
on
worse."
"It is my wi=
ll
that we sail," said Eric stubbornly.
"As thou wil=
t,
and as the King wills," answered Skallagrim.
On the morrow Eric
went in before the King, and craved a boon.
"There is li=
ttle
that thou canst ask, Brighteyes," said the King, "that I will not
give thee, for, by my troth, I hold thee dear."
"I am come b=
ack
to seek no great thing, lord," answered Eric, "but this only: lea=
ve
to bid thee farewell. I would wend homeward."
"Say,
Eric," said the King, "have I not dealt well with thee?"
"Well, and
overwell, lord."
"Why, then,
wouldst thou leave me? I have this in my mind--to bring thee to great honou=
r.
See, now, there is a fair lady in this court, and in her veins runs blood t=
hat
even an Iceland viking might be proud to mate with. She has great lands, an=
d,
mayhap, she shall have more. Canst thou not find a home on them, thinkest t=
hou,
Brighteyes?"
"In Iceland =
only
I am at home, lord," said Eric.
Then the King was
wroth, and bade him begone when it pleased him, and Eric bowed before him a=
nd
went out.
Two days afterwar=
ds,
while Eric was walking in the Palace gardens he met the Lady Elfrida face to
face. She held white flowers in her hand, and she was fair to see and pale =
as
the flowers she bore.
He greeted her, a=
nd,
after a while, she spoke to him in a gentle voice: "They say that thou
goest from England, Brighteyes?" she said.
"Yes, lady; I
go," he answered.
She looked on him
once and twice and then burst out weeping. "Why goest thou hence to th=
at
cold land of thine?" she sobbed--"that hateful land of snow and i=
ce!
Is not England good enough for thee?"
"I am at home
there, lady, and there my mother waits me."
"'There thy
mother waits thee,' Eric?--say, does a maid called Gudruda the Fair wait th=
ee
there also?"
"There is su=
ch a
maid in Iceland," said Eric.
"Yes; I know
it--I know it all," she answered, drying her tears, and of a sudden
growing cold and proud; "Eric, thou art betrothed to this Gudruda; and,
for thy welfare, somewhat overfaithful to thy troth. For hearken, Eric
Brighteyes. I know this: that little luck shall come to thee from the maid
Gudruda. It would become me ill to say more; nevertheless, this is true--th=
at
here, in England, good fortune waits thy hand, and there in Iceland such
fortune as men mete to their foes. Knowest thou this?"
Eric looked at her
and answered: "Lady," he said, "men are not born of their own
will, they live and do little that they will, they do and go, perchance,
whither they would not. Yet it may happen to a man that one meets him whose
hand he fain would hold, if it be but for an hour's travel over icy ways; a=
nd
it is better to hold that hand for this short hour than to wend his life
through at a stranger's side."
"Perhaps the=
re
is wisdom in thy folly," said the Lady Elfrida. "Still, I tell th=
ee
this: that no good luck waits thee there in Iceland."
"It well may
be," said Eric: "my days have been stormy, and the gale is still
brewing. But it is a poor heart that fears the storm. Better to sink; for,
coward or hero, all must sink at last."
"Say,
Eric," said the lady, "if that hand thou dost desire to hold is l=
ost
to thee, what then?"
"If that han=
d is
cold in death, then henceforth I wend my ways alone."
"And if it be
held of another hand than thine?"
"Then I will
journey back to England, lady, and here in this fair garden I may crave spe=
ech
of thee again."
They looked one on
another. "Fare thee well, Eric!" said the Lady Elfrida. "Her=
e in
this garden we may talk again; and, if we talk no more--why, fare thee well!
Days come and go; the swallow takes flight at winter, and lo! at spring it
twitters round the eaves. And if it come not again, then farewell to that
swallow. The world is a great house, Eric, and there is room for many swall=
ows.
But alas! for her who is left desolate--alas, alas!" And she turned and
went.
It is told of this
lady Elfrida that she became very wealthy and was much honoured for her
gentleness and wisdom, and that, when she was old, she built a great church=
and
named it Ericskirk. It is also told that, though many sought her in marriag=
e,
she wedded none.
=
XVI - HOW SWANHILD WALKED=
THE
SEAS
Within two days
afterwards, the Gudruda being bound for sea, Eric went up to bid farewell to
the King. But Edmund was so angry with him because of his going that he wou=
ld
not see him. Thereon Eric took horse and rode down sadly from the Palace to=
the
river-bank where the Gudruda lay. But when he was about to give the word to=
get
out the oars, the King himself rode up, and with him men bearing costly gif=
ts.
Eric went ashore to speak with him.
"I am angry =
with
thee, Brighteyes," said Edmund, "yet it is not in my heart to let
thee go without words and gifts of farewell. This only I ask of thee now, t=
hat,
if things go not well with thee there, out in Iceland, thou wilt come back =
to
me."
"I will--tha=
t I
promise thee, King," said Eric, "for I shall never find a better
lord."
"Nor I a bra=
ver
servant," said the King. Then he gave him the gifts and kissed him bef=
ore
all men. To Skallagrim also he gave a good byrnie of Welsh steel coloured
black.
Then Eric went ab=
oard
again and dropped down the river with the tide.
For five days all
went well with them, the sea being calm and the winds light and favourable.=
But
on the fifth night, as they sailed slowly along the coasts of East Anglia o=
ver
against Yarmouth sands, the moon rose red and ringed and the sea fell dead
calm.
"Yonder hang=
s a
storm-lamp, lord," said Skallagrim, pointing to the angry moon. "=
We
shall soon be bailing, for the autumn gales draw near."
"Wait till t=
hey
come, then speak," said Eric. "Thou croakest ever like a raven.&q=
uot;
"And ravens
croak before foul weather," answered Skallagrim, and just as he spoke a
sudden gust of wind came up from the south-east and laid the Gudruda over.
After this it came on to blow, and so fiercely that for whole days and nigh=
ts
their clothes were scarcely dry. They ran northwards before the storm and s=
till
northward, sighting no land and seeing no stars. And ever as they scudded on
the gale grew fiercer, till at length the men were worn out with bailing and
starved with wet and cold. Three of their number also were washed away by t=
he
seas, and all were in sorry plight.
It was the fourth
night of the gale. Eric stood at the helm, and by him Skallagrim. They were
alone, for their comrades were spent and lay beneath decks, waiting for dea=
th.
The ship was half full of water, but they had no more strength to bail. Eric
seemed grim and gaunt in the white light of the moon, and his long hair
streamed about him wildly. Grimmer yet was Skallagrim as he clung to the
shield-rail and stared across the deep.
"She rolls
heavily, lord," he shouted, "and the water gains fast."
"Can the men
bail no more?" asked Eric.
"Nay, they a=
re
outworn and wait for death."
"They need n=
ot
wait long," said Eric. "What do they say of me?"
"Nothing.&qu=
ot;
Then Eric groaned
aloud. "It was my stubbornness that brought us to this pass," he
said; "I care little for myself, but it is ill that all should die for=
one
man's folly."
"Grieve not,
lord," answered Skallagrim, "that is the world's way, and there a=
re
worse things than to drown. Listen! methinks I hear the roar of breakers
yonder," and he pointed to the left.
"Breakers th=
ey
surely are," said Eric. "Now the end is near. But see, is not that
land looming up on the right, or is it cloud?"
"It is
land," said Skallagrim, "and I am sure of this, that we run into a
firth. Look, the seas boil like a hot spring. Hold on thy course, lord,
perchance we may yet steer between rocks and land. Already the wind falls a=
nd
the current lessens the seas."
"Ay," s=
aid
Eric, "already the fog and rain come up," and he pointed ahead wh=
ere
dense clouds gathered in the shape of a giant, whose head reached to the sk=
ies
and moved towards them, hiding the moon.
Skallagrim looked,
then spoke: "Now here, it seems, is witchwork. Say, lord, hast thou ev=
er
seen mist travel against wind as it travels now?"
"Never
before," said Eric, and as he spoke the light of the moon went out.
Swanhild, Atli's
wife, sat in beauty in her bower on Straumey Isle and looked with wide eyes
towards the sea. It was midnight. None stirred in Atli's hall, but still
Swanhild looked out towards the sea.
Now she turned an=
d spoke
into the darkness, for there was no light in the bower save the light of her
great eyes.
"Art thou
there?" she said. "I have summoned thee thrice in the words thou
knowest. Say, Toad, art there?"
"Ay, Swanhild
the Fatherless! Swanhild, Groa's daughter! Witch-mother's witch-child! I am
here. What is thy will with me?" piped a thin voice like the voice of a
dying babe.
Swanhild shuddere=
d a
little and her eyes grew brighter--as bright as the eyes of a cat.
"This
first," she said: "that thou show thyself. Hideous as thou art, I=
had
rather see thee, than speak with thee seeing thee not."
"Mock not my
form, lady," answered the thin voice, "for it is as thou dost fas=
hion
it in thy thought. To the good I am fair as day; to the evil, foul as their
heart. Toad thou didst call me: look, now I come as a
toad!"
Swanhild looked, =
and
behold! a ring of the darkness grew white with light, and in it crouched a
thing hideous to see. It was shaped as a great spotted toad, and on it was =
set
a hag's face, with white locks hanging down on either side. Its eyes were
blood-red and sunken, black were its fangs, and its skin was dead yellow. It
grinned horribly as Swanhild shrank from it, then spoke again:
" Grey Wolf =
thou didst call me once, Swanhild, when =
thou
wouldst have thrust Gudruda down Goldfoss gulf, and as a grey wolf I came, =
and
gave thee counsel that thou tookest but ill. Rat didst thou call me once, when thou would=
st
save Brighteyes from the carles of Ospakar, and as a rat I came and in thy
shape I walked the seas. Toad thou callest me now, and as a toad I cre=
ep
about thy feet. Name thy will, Swanhild, and I will name my price. But be
swift, for there are other fair ladies whose wish I must do ere dawn."=
"Thou art hideous to look on!" said Swanhild, placing her hand before her eyes.<= o:p>
"Say not so,
lady; say not so. Look at this face of mine. Knowest thou it not? It is thy
mother's--dead Groa lent it me. I took it from where she lies; and my toad's
skin I drew from thy spotted heart, Swanhild, and more hideous than I am sh=
alt
thou be in a day to come, as once I was more fair than thou art to-day.&quo=
t;
Swanhild opened h=
er
lips to shriek, but no sound came.
"Troll,"
she whispered, "mock me not with lies, but hearken to my bidding: where
sails Eric now?"
"Look out in=
to
the night, lady, and thou shalt see."
Swanhild looked, =
and
the ways of the darkness opened before her witch-sight. There at the mouth =
of
Pentland Firth the Gudruda laboured heavily in the great seas, and by the
tiller stood Eric, and with him Skallagrim.
"Seest thou =
thy
love?" asked the Familiar.
"Yea," =
she
answered, "full clearly; he is worn with wind and sea, but more glorio=
us
than aforetime, and his hair is long. Say, what shall befall him if thou ai=
dest
not?"
"This, that =
he
shall safely pass the Firth, for the gale falls, and come safely to Fareys,=
and
from Fareys isles to Gudruda's arms."
"And what ca=
nst
thou do, Goblin?"
"This: I can
lure Eric's ship to wreck, and give his comrades, all save Skallagrim, to R=
an's
net, and bring him to thy arms, Swanhild, witch-mother's witch-child!"=
She hearkened. Her
breast heaved and her eyes flashed.
"And thy pri=
ce,
Toad?"
" Thou art the price, lady," piped the gob=
lin.
"Thou shalt give thyself to me when thy day is done, and merrily will =
we
sisters dwell in Hela's halls, and merrily for ever will we fare about the
earth o' nights, doing such tasks as this task of thine, Swanhild, and work=
ing
wicked woe till the last woe is worked on us. Art thou content?"
Swanhild thought.
Twice her breath went from her lips in great sighs. Then she stood, pale and
silent.
"Safely shal=
l he
sail the Firth," piped the thin voice. "Safely shall he sit in
Fareys. Safely shall he lie in white Gudruda's arms-- hee! hee! Think of it, lady!"
Then Swanhild sho=
ok
like a birth-tree in the gale, and her face grew ashen.
"I am
content," she said.
" Hee! hee! =
Brave lady! She is content! Ah, we siste=
rs
shall be merry. Hearken: if I aid thee thus I may do no more. Thrice has the
night-owl come at thy call--now it must wing away. Yet things will be as I =
have
said; thine own wisdom shall guide the rest. Ere morn Brighteyes shall stan=
d in
Atli's hall, ere spring he will be thy love, and ere autumn Gudruda shall s=
it
on the high seat in the hall of Middalhof the bride of Ospakar. Draw nigh, =
give
me thine arm, sister, that blood may seal our bargain."
Swanhild drew near
the toad, and, shuddering, stretched out her arm, and then and there the red
blood ran, and there they sealed their sisterhood. And as the nameless deed=
was
wrought, it seemed to Swanhild as though fire shot through her veins, and f=
ire
surged before her eyes, and in the fire a shape passed up weeping.
"It is done,
Blood-sister," piped the voice; "now I must away in thy form to be
about thy tasks. Seat thee here before me--so. Now lay thy brow upon my
brow--fear not, it was thy mother's--life on death! curling locks on corpse
hair! See, so we change--we change. Now thou art the Death-toad and I am
Swanhild, Atli's wife, who shall be Eric's love."
Then Swanhild knew
that her beauty had entered into the foulness of the toad, and the foulness=
of
the toad into her beauty, for there before her stood her own shape and here=
she
crouched a toad upon the floor.
"Away to wor=
k,
away!" said a soft low voice, her own voice speaking from her own body
that stood before her, and lo! it was gone.
But Swanhild
crouched, in the shape of a hag-headed toad, upon the ground in her bower of
Atli's hall, and felt wickedness and evil longings and hate boil and seethe
within her heart. She looked out through her sunken horny eyes and she seem=
ed
to see strange sights. She saw Atli, her lord, dead upon the grass. She saw=
a
woman asleep, and above her flashed a sword. She saw the hall of Middalhof =
red
with blood. She saw a great gulf in a mountain's heart, and men fell down i=
t.
And, last, she saw a war-ship sailing fast out on the sea, afire, and vanis=
h there.
Now the witch-hag=
who
wore Swanhild's loveliness stood upon the cliffs of Straumey and tossed her
white arms towards the north.
"Come, fog! =
come,
sleet!" she cried. "Come, fog! come, sleet! Put out the moon and
blind the eyes of Eric!" And as she called, the fog rose up like a gia=
nt
and stretched his arms from shore to shore.
"Move, fog!
beat, rain!" she cried. "Move and beat against the gale, and blind
the eyes of Eric!"
And the fog moved=
on
against the wind, and with it sleet and rain.
"Now I am
afeared," said Eric to Skallagrim, as they stood in darkness upon the
ship: "the gale blows from behind us, and yet the mist drives fast in =
our
faces. What comes now?"
"This is
witch-work, lord," answered Skallagrim, "and in such things no
counsel can avail. Hold the tiller straight and drive on, say I. Methinks t=
he
gale lessens more and more."
So they did for a
little while, and all around them sounded the roar of breakers. Darker grew=
the
sky and darker yet, till at the last, though they stood side by side, they
could not see each other's shapes.
"This is str=
ange
sailing," said Eric. "I hear the roar of breakers as it were bene=
ath
the prow."
"Lash the he=
lm,
lord, and let us go forward. If there are breakers, perhaps we shall see th=
eir
foam through the blackness," said Skallagrim.
Eric did so, and =
they
crept forward on the starboard board right to the prow of the ship, and the=
re
Skallagrim peered into the fog and sleet.
"Lord,"=
he
whispered presently, and his voice shook strangely, "what is that yond=
er
on the waters? Seest thou aught?"
Eric stared and s=
aid,
"By Odin! I see a shape of light like to the shape of a woman; it walks
upon the waters towards us and the mist melts before it, and the sea grows =
calm
beneath its feet."
"I see that
also!" said Skallagrim.
"She comes
nigh!" gasped Eric. "See how swift she comes! By the dead, it is
Swanhild's shape! Look, Skallagrim! look how her eyes flame!--look how her =
hair
streams upon the wind!"
"It is Swanh=
ild,
and we are fey!" quoth Skallagrim, and they ran back to the helm, where
Skallagrim sank upon the deck in fear.
"See,
Skallagrim, she glides before the Gudruda's beak! she glides backwards and =
she
points yonder--there to the right! Shall I put the helm down and follow
her?"
"Nay, lord, =
nay;
set no faith in witchcraft or evil will befall us."
As he spoke a gre=
at
gust of wind shook the ship, the music of the breakers roared in their ears,
and the gleaming shape upon the waters tossed its arms wildly and pointed to
the right.
"The breakers
call ahead," said Eric. "The shape points yonder, where I hear no
sound of sea. Once before, thou mindest, Swanhild walked the waves to warn =
us
and thereby saved us from the men of Ospakar. Ever she swore she loved me; =
now
she is surely come in love to save us and all our comrades. Say, shall I put
about? Look: once more she waves her arms and points," and as he spoke=
he
gripped the helm.
"I have no r=
ede,
lord," said Skallagrim, "and I love not witch-work. We can die but
once, and death is all around; be it as thou wilt."
Eric put down the
helm with all his might. The good ship answered, and her timbers groaned
loudly, as though in woe, when the strain of the sea struck her abeam. Then
once more she flew fast across the waters, and fast before her glided the
wraith of Swanhild. Now it pointed here and now there, and as it pointed so
Eric shaped his course. For a while the noise of breakers lessened, but now
again came a thunder, like the thunder of waves smiting on a cliff, and abo=
ut
the sides of the Gudruda the waves hissed like snakes.
Suddenly the Shape
threw up its arms and seemed to sink beneath the waves, while a sound like =
the
sound of a great laugh went up from sea to sky.
"Now here is=
the
end," said Skallagrim, "and we are lured to doom."
Ere ever the words
had passed his lips the ship struck, and so fiercely that they were rolled =
upon
the deck. Suddenly the sky grew clear, the moon shone out, and before them =
were
cliffs and rocks, and behind them a great wave rushed on. From the hold of =
the
ship there came a cry, for now their comrades were awake and they knew that
death was here.
Eric gripped
Skallagrim round the middle and looked aft. On rushed the wave, no such wave
had he ever seen. Now it struck and the Gudruda burst asunder beneath the b=
low.
But Eric Brightey=
es
and Skallagrim Lambstail were lifted on its crest and knew no more.
Swanhild, crouchi=
ng
in hideous guise upon the ground in the bower of Atli's hall, looked upon t=
he
visions that passed before her. Suddenly a woman's shape, her own shape, was
there.
"It is done,
Blood-sister," said a voice, her own voice. "Merrily I walked the
waves, and oh, merry was the cry of Eric's folk when Ran caught them in her
net! Be thyself, again, Blood-sister--be fair as thou art foul; then arise,
wake Atli thy lord, and go down to the sea's lip by the southern cliffs and=
see
what thou shalt find. We shall meet no more till all this game is played and
another game is set," and the shape of Swanhild crouched upon the floor
before the hag-headed toad muttering "Pass! pass!"
Then Swanhild felt
her flesh come back to her, and as it grew upon her so the shape of the
Death-headed toad faded away.
"Farewell,
Blood-sister!" piped a voice; "make merry as thou mayest, but mer=
rier
shall be our nights when thou hast gone a-sailing with Eric on the sea.
Farewell! farewell! Were-wolf thou didst call me once, and as a wolf I=
came.
Rat thou didst call me once, and as a rat I =
came. Toad didst thou call me once, and as a toad I=
came.
Say, at the last, what wilt thou call me and in what shape shall I come,
Blood-sister? Till then farewell!"
And all was gone =
and
all was still.
=
XVII - HOW ASMUND THE PRI=
EST
WEDDED UNNA, THOROD'S DAUGHTER
Now the story goes
back to Iceland.
When Brighteyes w=
as
gone, for a while Gudruda the Fair moved sadly about the stead, like one
new-widowed. Then came tidings. Men told how Ospakar Blacktooth had waylaid
Eric on the seas with two long ships, dragons of war, and how Eric had given
him battle and sunk one dragon with great loss to Ospakar. They told also h=
ow
Blacktooth's other dragon, the Raven, had sailed away before the wind, and =
Eric
had sailed after it in a rising gale. But of what befell these ships no news
came for many a month, and it was rumoured that this had befallen them--that
both had sunk in the gale, and that Eric was dead.
But Gudruda would=
not
believe this. When Asmund the Priest, her father, asked her why she did not
believe it, she answered that, had Eric been dead, her heart would surely h=
ave
spoken to her of it. To this Asmund said that it might be so.
Hay-harvest being
done, Asmund made ready for his wedding with Unna, Thorod's daughter and Er=
ic's
cousin.
Now it was agreed
that the marriage-feast should be held at Middalhof; for Asmund wished to a=
sk a
great company to the wedding, and there was no place at Coldback to hold so
many. Also some of the kin of Thorod, Unna's father, were bidden to the fea=
st
from the east and north. At length all was prepared and the guests came in
great companies, for no such feast had been made in this quarter for many
years.
On the eve of the
marriage Asmund spoke with Groa. The witch-wife had borne herself humbly si=
nce
she was recovered from her sickness. She passed about the stead like a rat =
at
night, speaking few words and with downcast eyes. She was busy also making =
all
things ready for the feasting.
Now as Asmund wen=
t up
the hall seeing that everything was in order, Groa drew near to him and tou=
ched
him gently on the shoulder.
"Are things =
to
thy mind, lord?" she said.
"Yes, Groa," he answered, "more to my mind than to thine I fear."<= o:p>
"Fear not, l=
ord;
thy will is my will."
"Say, Groa, =
is
it thy wish to bide here in Middalhof when Unna is my housewife?"
"It is my wi=
sh
to serve thee as aforetime," she answered softly, "if so be that =
Unna
wills it."
"That is her
desire," said Asmund and went his ways.
But Groa stood
looking after him and her face was fierce and evil.
"While bane =
has
virtue, while runes have power, and while hand has cunning, never, Unna, sh=
alt
thou take my place at Asmund's side! Out of the water I came to thee, Asmun=
d;
into the water I go again. Unquiet shall I lie there--unquiet shall I wend
through Hela's halls; but Unna shall rest at Asmund's side--in Asmund's
cairn!"
Then again she mo=
ved
about the hall, making all things ready for the feast. But at midnight, when
the light was low and folk slept, Groa rose, and, veiled in a black robe, w=
ith
a basket in her hand, passed like a shadow through the mists that hang about
the river's edge, and in silence, always looking behind her, like one who f=
ears
a hidden foe, culled flowers of noisome plants that grow in the marsh. Her
basket being filled, she passed round the stead to a hidden dell upon the m=
ountain
side. Here a man stood waiting, and near him burned a fire of turf. In his =
hand
he held an iron-pot. It was Koll the Half-witted, Groa's thrall.
"Are all thi=
ngs
ready, Koll?" she said.
"Yes," =
he
answered; "but I like not these tasks of thine, mistress. Say now, what
wouldst thou do with the fire and the pot?"
"This, then,
Koll. I would brew a love-potion for Asmund the Priest as he has bidden me =
to
do."
"I have done
many an ill deed for thee, mistress, but of all of them I love this the
least," said the thrall, doubtfully.
"I have done
many a good deed for thee, Koll. It was I who saved thee from the Doom-ston=
e,
seeming to prove thee innocent--ay, even when thy back was stretched on it,
because thou hadst slain a man in his sleep. Is it not so?"
"Yea,
mistress."
"And yet thou
wast guilty, Koll. And I have given thee many good gifts, is it not so?&quo=
t;
"Yes, it is
so."
"Listen then:
serve me this once and I will give thee one last gift--thy freedom, and wit=
h it
two hundred in silver."
Koll's eyes
glistened. "What must I do, mistress?"
"To-day at t=
he
wedding-feast it will be thy part to pour the cups while Asmund calls the
toasts. Last of all, when men are merry, thou wilt mix that cup in which As=
mund
shall pledge Unna his wife and Unna must pledge Asmund. Now, when thou hast
poured, thou shalt pass the cup to me, as I stand at the foot of the high s=
eat,
waiting to give the bride greeting on behalf of the serving-women of the
household. Thou shalt hand the cup to me as though in error, and that is bu=
t a
little thing to ask of thee."
"A little th=
ing
indeed," said Koll, staring at her, and pulling with his hand at his r=
ed
hair, "yet I like it not. What if I say no, mistress?"
"Say no or s=
peak
of this and I will promise thee one thing only, thou knave, and it is, befo=
re
winter comes, that the crows shall pick thy bones! Now, brave me, if thou
darest," and straightway Groa began to mutter some witch-words.
"Nay," =
said
Koll, holding up his hand as though to ward away a blow. "Curse me not=
: I
will do as thou wilt. But when shall I touch the two hundred in silver?&quo=
t;
"I will give
thee half before the feast begins, and half when it is ended, and with it
freedom to go where thou wilt. And now leave me, and on thy life see that t=
hou
fail me not."
"I have never
failed thee yet," said Koll, and went his ways.
Now Groa set the =
pot
upon the fire, and, placing in it the herbs that she had gathered, poured w=
ater
on them. Presently they began to boil and as they boiled she stirred them w=
ith
a peeled stick and muttered spells over them. For long she sat in that dim =
and
lonely place stirring the pot and muttering spells, till at length the brew=
was
done.
She lifted the pot
from the fire and smelt at it. Then drawing a phial from her robe she poured
out the liquor and held it to the sky. The witch-water was white as milk, b=
ut
presently it grew clear. She looked at it, then smiled evilly.
"Here is a
love-draught for a queen--ah, a love-draught for a queen!" she said, a=
nd,
still smiling, she placed the phial in her breast.
Then, having
scattered the fire with her foot, Groa took the pot and threw it into a deep
pool of water, where it could not be found readily, and crept back to the s=
tead
before men were awake.
Now the day wore =
on
and all the company were gathered at the marriage-feast to the number of ne=
arly
two hundred. Unna sat in the high seat, and men thought her a bonny bride, =
and
by her side sat Asmund the Priest. He was a hale, strong man to look on, th=
ough
he had seen some three-score winters; but his mien was sad, and his heart
heavy. He drank cup after cup to cheer him, but all without avail. For his
thought sped back across the years and once more he seemed to see the face =
of
Gudruda the Gentle as she lay dying, and to hear her voice when she foretol=
d evil
to him if he had aught to do with Groa the Witch-wife. And now it seemed to=
him
that the evil was at hand, though whence it should come he knew not. He loo=
ked
up. There Groa moved along the hall, ministering to the guests; but he saw =
as
she moved that her eyes were always fixed, now on him and now on Unna. He
remembered that curse also which Groa had called down upon him when he had =
told
her that he was betrothed to Unna, and his heart grew cold with fear. "=
;Now
I will change my counsel," Asmund said to himself: "Groa shall not
stay here in this stead, for I will look no longer on that dark face of her=
s.
She goes hence to-morrow."
Not far from Asmu=
nd
sat Björn, his son. As Gudruda the Fair, his sister, brought him mead he ca=
ught
her by the sleeve, whispering in her ear. "Methinks our father is sad.
What weighs upon his heart?"
"I know
not," said Gudruda, but as she spoke she looked first on Asmund, then =
at
Groa.
"It is ill t=
hat
Groa should stop here," whispered Björn again.
"It is
ill," answered Gudruda, and glided away.
Asmund saw their =
talk
and guessed its purport. Rousing himself he laughed aloud and called to Koll
the Half-witted to pour the cups that he might name the toasts.
Koll filled, and,=
as
Asmund called the toasts one by one, Koll handed the cups to him. Asmund dr=
ank
deep of each, till at length his sorrow passed from him, and, together with=
all
who sat there, he grew merry.
Last of all came =
the
toast of the bride's cup. But before Asmund called it, the women of the
household drew near the high seat to welcome Unna, when she should have dru=
nk.
Gudruda stood foremost, and Groa was next to her.
Now Koll filled as
before, and it was a great cup of gold that he filled.
Asmund rose to ca=
ll
the toast, and with him all who were in the hall. Koll brought up the cup, =
and
handed it, not to Asmund, but to Groa; but there were few who noted this, f=
or
all were listening to Asmund's toast and most of the guests were somewhat
drunken.
"The cup,&qu=
ot;
cried Asmund--"give me the cup that I may drink."
Then Groa started
forward, and as she did so she seemed to stumble, so that for a moment her =
robe
covered up the great bride-cup. Then she gathered herself together slowly, =
and,
smiling, passed up the cup.
Asmund lifted it =
to
his lips and drank deep. Then he turned and gave it to Unna his wife, but
before she drank he kissed her on the lips.
Now while all men
shouted such a welcome that the hall shook, and as Unna, smiling, drank from
the cup, the eyes of Asmund fell upon Groa who stood beneath him, and lo! h=
er
eyes seemed to flame and her face was hideous as the face of a troll.
Asmund grew white=
and
put his hand to his head, as though to think, then cried aloud:
"Drink not,
Unna! the draught is drugged!" and he struck at the vessel with his ha=
nd.
He smote it indee=
d,
and so hard that it flew from her hand far down the hall.
But Unna had alre=
ady
drunk deep.
"The draught=
is
drugged!" Asmund cried, and pointed to Groa, while all men stood silen=
t,
not knowing what to do.
"The draught=
is drugged!"
he cried a third time, "and that witch has drugged it!" And he be=
gan
to tear at his breast.
Then Groa laughed=
so
shrilly that men trembled to hear her.
"Yes,
lord," she screamed, "the draught is drugged, and Groa the Witch-=
wife
hath drugged it! Ay, tear thy heart out, Asmund, and Unna, grow thou white =
as
snow--soon, if my medicine has virtue, thou shalt be whiter yet! Hearken all
men. Asmund the Priest is Swanhild's father, and for many a year I have been
Asmund's mate. What did I tell thee, lord?--that I would see the two of you
dead ere Unna should take my place!--ay, and on Gudruda the Fair, thy daugh=
ter,
and Björn thy son, and Eric Brighteyes, Gudruda's love, and many another
man--on them too shall my curse fall! Tear thy heart out, Asmund! Unna, grow
thou white as snow! The draught is drugged and Groa, Ran's gift! Groa the W=
itch-Wife!
Groa, Asmund's love! hath drugged it!"
And ere ever a man might lift a hand to stay her Groa glided past the high seat and was gone.<= o:p>
For a space all s=
tood
silent. Asmund ceased clutching at his breast. Rising he spoke heavily:
"Now I learn
that sin is a stone to smite him who hurled it. Gudruda the Gentle spoke so=
oth
when she warned me against this woman. =
span>New
wed, new dead! Unna, fare thee
well!"
And straightway
Asmund fell down and died there by the high seat in his own hall.
Unna gazed at him
with ashen face. Then, plucking at her bosom she sprang from the dais and
rushed along the hall, screaming. Men made way for her, and at the door she
also fell dead.
This then was the=
end
of Asmund Asmundson the Priest, and Unna, Thorod's daughter, Eric's cousin,=
his
new-made wife.
For a moment there
was silence in the hall. But before the echoes of Unna's screams had died a=
way,
Björn cried aloud:
"The witch! =
where
is the witch?"
Then with a yell =
of
rage, men leaped to their feet, seizing their weapons, and rushed from the
stead. Out they ran. There, on the hill-side far above them, a black shape
climbed and leapt swiftly. They gave tongue like dogs set upon a wolf and s=
ped
up the hill.
They gained the c=
rest
of the hill, and now they were at Goldfoss brink. Lo! the witch-wife had
crossed the bed of the torrent, for little rain had fallen and the river was
low. She stood on Sheep-saddle, the water running from her robes. On
Sheep-saddle she stood and cursed them.
Björn took a bow =
and
set a shaft upon the string. He drew it and the arrow sung through the air =
and
smote her, speeding through her heart. With a cry Groa threw up her arms.
Then down she
plunged. She fell on Wolf's Fang, where Eric once had stood and, bouncing
thence, rushed to the boiling deeps below and was no more seen for ever.
Thus, then, did
Asmund the Priest wed Unna, Thorod's daughter, and this was the end of the
feasting.
Thereafter Björn,=
Asmund's
son, ruled at Middalhof, and was Priest in his place. He sought for Koll the
Half-witted to kill him, but Koll took the fells, and after many months he
found passage in a ship that was bound for Scotland.
Now Björn was a h=
ard
man and a greedy. He was no friend to Eric Brighteyes, and always pressed i=
t on
Gudruda that she should wed Ospakar Blacktooth. But to this counsel Gudruda
would not listen, for day and night she thought upon her love. Next summer
there came tidings that Eric was safe in Ireland, and men spoke of his deed=
s,
and of how he and Skallagrim had swept the ship of Ospakar single-handed. N=
ow
after these tidings, for a while Gudruda walked singing through the meads, =
and
no flower that grew in them was half so fair as she.
That summer also
Ospakar Blacktooth met Björn, Asmund's son, at the Thing, and they talked m=
uch
together in secret.
=
XVIII - HOW EARL ATLI FOU=
ND
ERIC AND SKALLAGRIM ON THE SOUTHERN ROCKS OF STRAUMEY ISLE
Swanhild, robed in
white, as though new risen from sleep, stood, candle in hand, by the bed of
Atli the Earl, her lord, crying "Awake!"
"What passes
now?" said Atli, lifting himself upon his arm. "What passes,
Swanhild, and why dost thou ever wander alone at nights, looking so strange=
ly?
I love not thy dark witch-ways, Swanhild, and I was wed to thee in an ill h=
our,
wife who art no wife."
"In an ill h=
our
indeed, Earl Atli," she answered, "an ill hour for thee and me, f=
or,
as thou hast said, eld and youth are strange yokefellows and pull different
paths. Arise now, Earl, for I have dreamed a dream."
"Tell it to =
me
on the morrow, then," quoth Atli; "there is small joyousness in t=
hy
dreams, that always point to evil, and I must bear enough evil of late.&quo=
t;
"Nay, lord, =
my
rede may not be put aside so. Listen now: I have dreamed that a great drago=
n of
war has been cast away upon Straumey's south-western rocks. The cries of th=
ose
who drowned rang in my ears. But I thought that some came living to the sho=
re,
and lie there senseless, to perish of the cold. Arise, therefore, take men =
and
go down to the rocks."
"I will go at
daybreak," said Atli, letting his head fall upon the pillow. "I h=
ave
little faith in such visions, and it is too late for ships of war to try the
passage of the Firth."
"Arise, I
say," answered Swanhild sternly, "and do my bidding, else I will
myself go to search the rocks."
Then Atli rose
grumbling, and shook the heavy sleep from his eyes: for of all living folk =
he
most feared Swanhild his wife. He donned his garments, threw a thick cloak
about him, and, going to the hall where men snored around the dying fires, =
for
the night was bitter, he awoke some of them. Now among those men whom he ca=
lled
was Hall of Lithdale, Hall the mate who had cut the grapnel-chain. For this
Hall, fearing to return to Iceland, had come hither saying that he had been
wounded off Fareys, in the great fight between Eric and Ospakar's men, and =
left
there to grow well of his hurt or die. Then Atli, not knowing that the carle
lied, had bid him welcome for Eric's sake, for he still loved Eric above all
men.
But Hall loved not
labour and nightfarings to search for shipwrecked men of whom the Lady Swan=
hild
had chanced to dream. So he turned himself upon his side and slept again.
Still, certain of Atli's folk rose at his bidding, and they went together d=
own
to the south-western rocks.
But Swanhild, a c=
loak
thrown over her night-gear, sat herself in the high seat of the hall and fi=
xing
her eyes, now upon the dying fires and now upon the blood-marks in her arm,
waited in silence. The night was cold and windy, but the moon shone bright,=
and
by its light Atli and his people made their way to the south-western rocks,=
on
which the sea beat madly.
"What lies
yonder?" said Atli, pointing to some black things that lay beneath them
upon the rock, cast there by the waves. A man climbed down the cliff's side
that is here as though it were cut in steps, and then cried aloud:
"A ship's ma=
st,
new broken, lord."
"It seems th=
at
Swanhild dreams true," muttered Atli; "but I am sure of this: that
none have come ashore alive in such a sea."
Presently the man=
who
searched the rocks below cried aloud again:
"Here lie two
great men, locked in each other's arms. They seem to be dead."
Now all the men c=
limb
down the slippery rocks as best they may, though the spray wets them, and w=
ith
them goes Atli. The Earl is a brisk man, though old in years, and he comes
first to where the two lie. He who was undermost lay upon his back, but his
face is hid by the thick golden hair that flowed across it.
"Man's body
indeed, but woman's locks," said Atli as he put out his hand and drew =
the
hair away, so that the light of the moon fell on the face beneath.
He looked, then
staggered back against the rock.
"By Thor!&qu=
ot;
he cried, "here lies the corpse of Eric Brighteyes!" and Atli wru=
ng
his hands and wept, for he loved Eric much.
"Be not so s=
ure
that the men are dead, Earl," said one, "I thought I saw yon great
carle move but now."
"He is
Skallagrim Lambstail, Eric's Death-shadow," said Atli again. "Up =
with
them, lads--see, yonder lies a plank--and away to the hall. I will give twe=
nty
in silver to each of you if Eric lives," and he unclasped his cloak and
threw it over both of them.
Then with much la=
bour
they loosed the grip of the two men one from the other, and they set Skalla=
grim
on the plank. But eight men bore Eric up the cliff between them, and the ta=
sk
was not light, though the Earl held his head, from which the golden hair hu=
ng
like seaweed from a rock.
At length they ca=
me
to the hall and carried them in. Swanhild, seeing them come, moved down from
the high seat.
"Bring lamps,
and pile up the fires," cried Atli. "A strange thing has come to
pass, Swanhild, and thou dost dream wisely, indeed, for here we have Eric
Brighteyes and Skallagrim Lambstail. They were locked like lovers in each
other's arms, but I know not if they are dead or living."
Now Swanhild star=
ted
and came on swiftly. Had the Familiar tricked her and had she paid the price
for nothing? Was Eric taken from Gudruda and given to her indeed--but given
dead? She bent over him, gazing keenly on his face. Then she spoke.
"He is not d=
ead
but senseless. Bring dry clothes, and make water hot," and, kneeling d=
own,
she loosed Eric's helm and harness and ungirded Whitefire from his side.
For long Swanhild=
and
Atli tended Eric at one fire, and the serving women tended Skallagrim at the
other. Presently there came a cry that Skallagrim stirred, and Atli with ot=
hers
ran to see. At this moment also the eyes of Eric were unsealed, and Swanhild
saw them looking at her dimly from beneath. Moved to it by her passion and =
her
joy that he yet lived, Swanhild let her face fall till his was hidden in her
unbound hair, and kissed him upon the lips. Eric shut his eyes again, sighi=
ng heavily,
and presently he was asleep. They bore him to a bed and heaped warm wrappin=
gs
upon him. At daybreak he woke, and Atli, who sat watching at his side, gave=
him
hot mead to drink.
"Do I
dream?" said Eric, "or is it Earl Atli who tends me, and did I bu=
t now
see the face of Swanhild bending over me?"
"It is no dr=
eam,
Eric, but the truth. Thou hast been cast away here on my isle of
Straumey."
"And
Skallagrim--where is Skallagrim?"
"Skallagrim
lives--fear not!"
"And my
comrades, how went it with them?"
"But ill, Er=
ic.
Ran has them all. Now sleep!"
Eric groaned alou=
d.
"I had rather died also than live to hear such heavy tidings," he
said. "Witch-work! witch-work! and that fair witch-face wrought it.&qu=
ot;
And once again he slept, nor did he wake till the sun was high. But Atli co=
uld
make nothing of his words.
When Swanhild left
the side of Eric she met Hall of Lithdale face to face and his looks were
troubled.
"Say,
lady," he asked, "will Brighteyes live?"
"Grieve not,
Hall," she answered, "Eric will surely live and he will be glad to
find a messmate here to greet him, having left so many yonder," and she
pointed to the sea.
"I shall not=
be
glad," said Hall, letting his eyes fall.
"Why not, Ha=
ll?
Fearest thou Skallagrim? or hast thou done ill by Eric?"
"Ay, lady, I
fear Skallagrim, for he swore to slay me, and that kind of promise he ever
keeps. Also, if the truth must out, I have not dealt altogether well with E=
ric,
and of all men I least wish to talk with him."
"Speak on,&q=
uot;
she said.
Then, being force=
d to
it, Hall told her something of the tale of the cutting of the cable, being
careful to put another colour on it.
"Now it seems
that thou art a coward, Hall," Swanhild said when he had done, "a=
nd I
scarcely looked for that in thee," for she had not been deceived by the
glozing of his speech. "It will be bad for thee to meet Eric and
Skallagrim, and this is my counsel: that thou goest hence before they wake,=
for
they will sit this winter here in Atli's hall."
"And whither
shall I go, lady?"
Swanhild gazed on
him, and as she did so a dark thought came into her heart: here was a knave=
who
might serve her ends.
"Hall,"=
she
said, "thou art an Icelander, and I have known of thee from a child, a=
nd
therefore I wish to serve thee in thy strait, though thou deservest it litt=
le.
See now, Atli the Earl has a farm on the mainland not two hours' ride from =
the
sea. Thither thou shalt go, if thou art wise, and thou shalt sit there this
winter and be hidden from Eric and Skallagrim. Nay, thank me not, but liste=
n:
it may chance that I shall have a service for thee to do before spring is
come."
"Lady, I sha=
ll
wait upon thy word," said Hall.
"Good. Now, =
so
soon as it is light, I will find a man to sail with thee across the Firth, =
for
the sea falls, and bear my message to the steward at Atli's farm. Also if t=
hou
needest faring-money thou shalt have it. Farewell."
Thus then did Hall
fly before Eric and Skallagrim.
On the morrow Eric
and Skallagrim arose, sick and bruised indeed, but not at all harmed, and w=
ent
down to the shore. There they found many dead men of their company, but nev=
er a
one in whom the breath of life remained.
Skallagrim looked=
at
Eric and spoke: "Last night the mist came up against the wind: last ni=
ght
we saw Swanhild's wraith upon the waves, and there is the path it showed, a=
nd
there"--and he pointed to the dead men--"is the witch-seed's flow=
er.
Now to-day we sit in Atli's hall and here we must stay this winter at
Swanhild's side, and in all this there lies a riddle that I cannot read.&qu=
ot;
But Eric shook his
head, making no answer. Then, leaving Skallagrim with the dead, he turned, =
and
striding back alone towards the hall, sat down on a rock in the home meadows
and, covering his face with his hands, wept for his comrades.
As he wept Swanhi=
ld
came to him, for she had seen him from afar, and touched him gently on the =
arm.
"Why weepest
thou, Eric?" she said.
"I weep for =
the
dead, Swanhild," he answered.
"Weep not for
the dead--they are at peace; if thou must weep, weep for the living. Nay, w=
eep
not at all; rejoice rather that thou art here to mourn. Hast thou no word of
greeting for me who have not heard thy voice these many months?"
"How shall I
greet thee, Swanhild, who would never have seen thy face again if I might h=
ave
had my will? Knowest thou that yesternight, as we laboured in yonder Firth,=
we
saw a shape walking the waters to lead us to our doom? How shall I greet th=
ee,
Swanhild, who art a witch and evil?"
"And knowest
thou, Eric, that yesternight I woke from sleep, having dreamed that thou di=
dst
lie upon the shore, and thus I saved thee alive, as perchance I have saved =
thee
aforetime? If thou didst see a shape walking the waters it was that shape w=
hich
led thee here. Hadst thou sailed on, not only those thou mournest, but
Skallagrim and thou thyself had now been numbered with the lost."
"Better so t=
han
thus," said Brighteyes. "Knowest thou also, Swanhild, that when l=
ast
night my life came back again in Atli's hall, methought that Atli's wife le=
aned
over me and kissed me on the lips? That was an ill dream, Swanhild."
"Some had fo=
und
it none so ill, Eric," she made answer, looking on him strangely.
"Still, it was but a dream. Thou didst dream that Atli's wife breathed
back the breath of life into thy pale lips--be sure of it thou didst but dr=
eam.
Ah, Eric, fear me no more; forget the evil that I have wrought in the blind=
ness
and folly of my youth. Now things are otherwise with me. Now I am a wedded =
wife
and faithful hearted to my lord. Now, if I still love thee, it is with a
sister's love. Therefore forget my sins, remember only that as children we
played upon the Iceland fells. Remember that, as boy and girl, we rode along
the marshes, while the sea-mews clamoured round our heads. The world is col=
d,
Eric, and few are the friends we find in it; many are already gone, and soon
the friendless dark draws near. So put me not away, my brother and my frien=
d;
but, for a little space, whilst thou art here in Atli's hall, let us walk h=
and
in hand as we walked long years ago in Iceland, gathering up the fifa-bloom,
and watching the midnight shadows creep up the icy jökul's crest."
Thus Swanhild spo=
ke
to him most sweetly, in a low voice of music, while the tears gathered in h=
er
eyes, talking ever of Iceland that he loved, and of days long dead, till Er=
ic's
heart softened in him.
"Almost do I
believe thee, Swanhild," he said, stretching out his hand; "but I
know thus: that thou art never twice in the same mood, and that is beyond my
measuring. Thou hast done much evil and thou hast striven to do more; also I
love not those who seem to walk the seas o' nights. Still, hold thou to this
last saying of thine and there shall be peace between us while I bide
here."
She touched his h=
and
humbly and turned to go. But as she went Eric spoke again: "Say, Swanh=
ild,
hast thou tidings from Iceland yonder? I have heard no word of Asmund or of
Gudruda for two long years and more."
She stood still, =
and
a dark shadow that he could not see flitted across her face.
"I have few
tidings, Eric," she said, turning, "and those few, if I may trust
them, bad enough. For this is the rumour that I have heard: that Asmund the
Priest, my father, is dead; that Groa, my mother, is dead--how, I know not;
and, lastly, that Gudruda the Fair, thy love, is betrothed to Ospakar
Blacktooth and weds him in the spring."
Now Eric sprang up
with an oath and grasped the hilt of Whitefire. Then he sat down again upon=
the
stone and covered his face with his hands.
"Grieve not,
Eric," she said gently; "I put no faith in this news, for rumour,
like the black-backed gull, often changes colour in its flight across the s=
eas.
Also I had it but at fifth hand. I am sure of this, at least, that Gudruda =
will
never forsake thee without a cause."
"It shall go=
ill
with Ospakar if this be true," said Eric, smiling grimly, "for
Whitefire is yet left me and with it one true friend."
"Run not to =
meet
the evil, Eric. Thou shalt come to Iceland with the summer flowers and find
Gudruda faithful and yet fairer than of yore. Knowest thou that Hall of
Lithdale, who was thy mate, has sat here these two months? He is gone but t=
his
morning, I know not whither, leaving a message that he returns no more.&quo=
t;
"He did well=
to
go," said Eric, and he told her how Hall had cut the cable.
"Ay, well
indeed," answered Swanhild. "Had Atli known this he would have sc=
ourged
Hall hence with rods of seaweed. And now, Eric, I desire to ask thee one mo=
re
thing: why wearest thou thy hair long like a woman's? Indeed, few women have
such hair as thine is now."
"For this ca=
use,
Swanhild: I swore to Gudruda that none should cut my hair till she cut it o=
nce
more. It is a great burden to me surely, for never did hair grow so fast and
strong as mine, and once in a fray I was held fast by it and went near to t=
he
losing of my life. Still, I will keep the oath even if it grows on to my
feet," and he laughed a little and shook back his golden locks.
Swanhild smiled a=
lso
and, turning, went. But when her face was hidden from him she smiled no mor=
e.
"As I
live," she said in her heart, "before spring rains fall I again w=
ill
cause thee to break this oath, Eric. Ay, I will cut a lock of that bright h=
air
of thine and send it for a love-token to Gudruda."
But Eric still sat
upon the rock thinking. Swanhild had set an evil seed of doubt in his heart,
and already it put forth roots. What if the tale were true? What if Gudruda=
had
given herself to Ospakar? Well, if so--she should soon be a widow, that he
swore.
Then he rose, and
stalked grimly towards the hall.
=
XIX - HOW KOLL THE
HALF-WITTED BROUGHT TIDINGS FROM ICELAND
Presently as Eric
walked he met Atli the Earl seeking him. Atli greeted him.
"I have seen
strange things, Eric," he said, "but none more strange than this
coming of thine and the manner of it. Swanhild is foresighted, and that was=
a
doom-dream of hers."
"I think her
foresighted also," said Eric. "And now, Earl, knowest thou this: =
that
little good can come to thee at the hands of one whom thou hast saved from =
the
sea."
"I set no fa=
ith
in such old wives' tales," answered Atli. "Here thou art come, an=
d it
is my will that thou shouldest sit here. At the least, I will give thee no =
help
to go hence."
"Then we must
bide in Straumey, it seems," said Eric: "for of all my goods and =
gear
this alone is left me," and he looked at Whitefire.
"Thou hast s=
till
a gold ring or two upon thy arm," answered the Earl, laughing. "B=
ut
surely, Eric, thou wouldst not begone?"
"I know not,
Earl. Listen: it is well that I should be plain with thee. Once, before thou
didst wed Swanhild, she had another mind."
"I have heard
something of that, and I have guessed more, Brighteyes; but methinks Swanhi=
ld
is little given to gadding now. She is as cold as ice, and no good wife for=
any
man," and Atli sighed, "'Snow melts not if sun shines not,' so ru=
ns
the saw. Thou art an honest man, Eric, and no whisperer in the ears of othe=
rs'
wives."
"I am not mi=
nded
indeed to do thee such harm, Earl, but this thou knowest: that woman's guile
and beauty are swords few shields can brook. Now I have spoken--and they are
hard words to speak--be it as thou wilt."
"It is my wi=
ll
that thou shouldest sit here this winter, Eric. Had I my way, indeed, never
wouldest thou sit elsewhere. Listen: things have not gone well with me of l=
ate.
Age hath a grip of me, and foes rise up against one who has no sons. That w=
as
an ill marriage, too, which I made with Swanhild yonder: for she loves me n=
ot,
and I have found no luck since first I saw her face. Moreover, it is in my =
mind
that my days are almost sped. Swanhild has already foretold my death, and, =
as
thou knowest well, she is foresighted. So I pray thee, Eric, bide thou here=
while
thou mayest, for I would have thee at my side."
"It shall be=
as
thou wilt, Earl," said Eric.
So Eric Brighteyes
and Skallagrim Lambstail sat that winter in the hall of Atli the Earl at
Straumey. For many weeks all things went well and Eric forgot his fears.
Swanhild was gentle to him and kindly. She loved much to talk with him, eve=
n of
Gudruda her rival; but no word of love passed her lips. Nevertheless, she d=
id
but bide her time, for when she struck she determined to strike home. Atli =
and
Eric were ever side by side, and Eric gave the Earl much good counsel. He
promised to do this also, for now, being simple-minded, his doubts had pass=
ed
and he had no more fear of Swanhild. On the mainland lived a certain chief =
who
had seized large lands of Atli's, and held them for a year or more. Now Eri=
c gave
his word that, before he sailed for Iceland in the early summer, he would g=
o up
against this man and drive him from the lands, if he could. For Brighteyes
might not come to Iceland till hard upon midsummer, when his three years of
outlawry were spent.
The winter wore a=
way
and the spring came. Then Atli gathered his men and went with Eric in boats=
to
where the chief dwelt who held his lands. There they fell on him and there =
was
a fierce fight. But in the end the man was slain by Skallagrim, and Eric did
great deeds, as was his wont. Now in this fray Eric was wounded in the foot=
by
a spear, so that he must be borne back to Straumey, and he lay there in the
hall for many days. Swanhild nursed him, and most days he sat talking with =
her
in her bower.
When Eric was nea=
rly
healed of his hurt, the Earl went with all his people to a certain island of
the Orkneys to gather scat[*] that was unpaid, and Skallagrim went with him.
But Eric did not go, because of his hurt, fearing lest the wound should ope=
n if
he walked overmuch. Thus it came to pass that, except for some women, he was
left almost alone with Swanhild.
[*] Tribute.
Now, when Atli had
been gone three days, it chanced on an afternoon that Swanhild heard how a =
man
from Iceland sought speech with her. She bade them bring him in to where she
was alone in her bower, for Eric was not there, having gone down to the sea=
to
fish.
The man came and =
she
knew him at once for Koll the Half-witted, who had been her mother Groa's
thrall. On his shoulders was the cloak that Ospakar Blacktooth had given hi=
m;
it was much torn now, and he had a worn and hungry look.
"Whence come=
st
thou, Koll?" she asked, "and what are thy tidings?"
"From Scotla=
nd
last, lady, where I sat this winter; before that, from Iceland. As for my
tidings, they are heavy, if thou hast not heard them. Asmund the Priest is
dead, and dead is Unna his wife, poisoned by thy mother, Groa, at their
marriage-feast. Dead, too, is thy mother, Groa. Björn, Asmund's son, shot h=
er
with an arrow, and she lies in Goldfoss pool."
Now Swanhild hid =
her
face for a while in her hands. Then she lifted it and it was white to see.
"Speakest thou truth, fox? If thou liest, this I swear to thee--thy to=
ngue
shall be dragged from thee by the roots!"
"I speak the
truth, lady," he answered. But still he spoke not all the truth, for he
said nothing of the part which he had played in the deaths of Asmund and Un=
na.
Then he told her of the manner of their end.
Swanhild listened=
silently--then
said:
"What news of
Gudruda, Asmund's daughter? Is she wed?"
"Nay, lady. =
Folk
spoke of her and Ospakar, that was all."
"Hearken,
Koll," said Swanhild, "bearing such heavy tidings, canst thou not
weight the ship a little more? Eric Brighteyes is here. Canst thou not swea=
r to
him that, when thou didst leave Iceland it was said without question that
Gudruda had betrothed herself to Ospakar, and that the wedding-feast was set
for this last Yule? Thou hast a hungry look, Koll, and methinks that things
have not gone altogether well with thee of late. Now, if thou canst so char=
ge
thy memory, thou shalt lose little by it. But, if thou canst not, then thou
goest hence from Straumey with never a luck-penny in thy purse, and never a=
sup
to stay thy stomach with."
Now of all things
Koll least desired to be sent from Straumey; for, though Swanhild did not k=
now
it, he was sought for on the mainland as a thief.
"That I may =
do,
lady," he said, looking at her cunningly. "Now I remember that
Gudruda the Fair charged me with a certain message for Eric Brighteyes, if I
should chance to see him as I journeyed."
Then Swanhild, At=
li's
wife, and Koll the Half-witted talked long and earnestly together.
At nightfall Eric
came in from his fishing. His heart was light, for the time drew near when =
he
should sail for home, and he did not think on evil. For now he feared Swanh=
ild
no longer, and, no fresh tidings having come from Iceland about Ospakar and
Gudruda, he had almost put the matter from his mind. On he walked to the ha=
ll,
limping somewhat from his wound, but singing as he came, and bearing his fi=
sh
slung upon a pole.
At the men's door=
of
the hall a woman stood waiting. She told Eric that the lady Swanhild would
speak with him in her bower. Thither he went and knocked. Getting no answer=
he
knocked again, then entered.
Swanhild sat on a
couch. She was weeping, and her hair fell about her face.
"What now,
Swanhild?" he said.
She looked up
heavily. "Ill news for thee and me, Eric. Koll, who was my mother's th=
rall,
has come hither from Iceland, and these are his tidings: that Asmund is dea=
d,
and Unna, thy cousin, Thorod of Greenfell's daughter, is dead, and my mother
Groa is dead also."
"Heavy tidin= gs, truly!" said Eric; "and what of Gudruda, is she also dead?"<= o:p>
"Nay, Eric s=
he
is wed--wed to Ospakar."
Now Eric reeled
against the wall, clutching it, and for a space all things swam round him.
"Where is this Koll?" he gasped. "Send me Koll hither."=
Presently he came,
and Eric questioned him coldly and calmly. But Koll could lie full well. It=
is
said that in his day there was no one in Iceland who could lie so well as K=
oll
the Half-witted. He told Eric how it was said that Gudruda was plighted to
Ospakar, and how the match had been agreed on at the Althing in the summer =
that
was gone (and indeed there had been some such talk), and how that the feast=
was
to be at Middalhof on last Yule Day.
"Is that all=
thy
tidings?" said Eric. "If so, I give no heed to them: for ever, Ko=
ll,
I have known thee for a liar!"
"Nay, Eric, =
it
is not all," answered Koll. "As it chanced, two days before the s=
hip
in which I sailed was bound, I saw Gudruda the Fair. Then she asked me whit=
her
I was going, and I told her that I would journey to London, where men said =
thou
wert, and asked her if she would send a message. Then she alighted from her
horse, Blackmane, and spoke with me apart. 'Koll,' she said, 'it well may
happen that thou wilt see Eric Brighteyes in London town. Now, if thou seest
him, I charge thee straightly tell him this. Tell him that my father is dea=
d,
and my brother Björn, who rules in his place, is a hard man, and has ever u=
rged
me on to wed Ospakar, till at last, having no choice, I have consented to i=
t.
And say to Eric that I grieve much and sorely, and that, though we twain sh=
ould
never meet more, yet I shall always hold his memory dear.'"
"It is not l=
ike
Gudruda to speak thus," said Eric: "she had ever a stout heart and
these are craven words. Koll, I hold that thou liest; and, if indeed I find=
it
so, I'll wring the head from off thee!"
"Nay, Eric, I lie not. Wherefore should I lie? Hearken: thou hast not heard all my tale. = When the lady Gudruda had made an end of speaking she drew something from her br= east and gave it me, saying: 'Give this to Eric, in witness of my words.'"<= o:p>
"Show me the
token," said Eric.
Now, many years a=
go,
when they were yet boy and girl, it chanced that Eric had given to Gudruda =
the
half of an ancient gold piece that he had found upon the shore. He had given
her half, and half he had kept, wearing it next his heart. But he knew not
this, for she feared to tell him, that Gudruda had lost her half. Nor indeed
had she lost it, for Swanhild had taken the love-token and hidden it away. =
Now
she brought it forth for Koll to build his lies upon.
Then Koll drew out
the half-piece from a leather purse and passed it to him. Eric plunged his =
hand
into his breast and found his half. He placed the two side by side, while
Swanhild watched him. Lo! they fitted well.
Then Eric laughed
aloud, a hard and bitter laugh. "There will be slaying," he cried,
"before all this tale is told. Take thy fee and begone, thou messenger=
of
ill," and he cast the broken piece at Koll. "For once thou hast
spoken the truth."
Koll stooped, fou=
nd
the gold and went, leaving Brighteyes and Swanhild face to face.
He hid his brow in
his arms and groaned aloud. Softly Swanhild crept up to him--softly she drew
his hands away, holding them between her own.
"Heavy tidin=
gs,
Eric," she said, "heavy tidings for thee and me! She is a murdere=
ss
who gave me birth and she has slain my own father--my father and thy cousin
Unna also. Gudruda is a traitress, a traitress fair and false. I did ill to=
be
born of such a woman; thou didst ill to put thy faith in such a woman. Toge=
ther
let us weep, for our woe is equal."
"Ay, let us =
weep
together," Eric answered. "Nay, why should we weep? Together let =
us
be merry, for we know the worst. All words are said--all hopes are sped! Le=
t us
be merry, then, for now we have no more tidings to fear."
"Ay,"
Swanhild answered, looking on him darkly, "we will be merry and laugh =
our
sorrows down. Ah! thou foolish Eric, under what unlucky star wast thou born
that thou knewest not true from false?" and she called the serving-wom=
en,
bidding them bring food and wine.
Now Eric sat alone
with Swanhild in her bower and made pretence to eat. But he could eat littl=
e,
though he drank deep of the southern wine. Close beside him sat Swanhild,
filling his cup. She was wondrous fair that night, and it seemed to Eric th=
at
her eyes gleamed like stars. Sweetly she spoke also and wisely. She told
strange tales and she sang strange songs, and ever her eyes shone more and
more, and ever she crept closer to him. Eric's brain was afire, though his
heart was cold and dead. He laughed loud and mightily, he told great tales =
of
deeds that he had done, growing boastful in his folly, and still Swanhild's
eyes shone more and more, and still she crept closer, wooing him in many wa=
ys.
Now of a sudden E=
ric
thought of his friend, Earl Atli, and his mind grew clear.
"This may not
be, Swanhild," he said. "Yet I would that I had loved thee from t=
he
first, and not the false Gudruda: for, with all thy dark ways, at least thou
art better than she."
"Thou speake=
st
wisely, Eric," Swanhild answered, though she meant not that he should =
go.
"The Norns have appointed us an evil fate, giving me as wife to an old=
man
whom I do not love, and thee for a lover to a woman who has betrayed thee. =
Ah,
Eric Brighteyes, thou foolish Eric! why knewest thou not the false from the
true while yet there was time? Now are all words said and all things done--=
nor
can they be undone. Go hence, Eric, ere ill come of it; but, before thou go=
est,
drink one cup of parting, and then farewell."
And she slipped f=
rom
him and filled the cup, mixing in it a certain love-portion that she had ma=
de
ready.
"Give it me =
that
I may swear an oath on it," said Eric.
Swanhild gave him=
the
cup and stood before him, watching him.
"Hearken,&qu=
ot;
he said: "I swear this, that before snow falls again in Iceland I will=
see
Ospakar dead at my feet or lie dead at the feet of Ospakar."
"Well spoken,
Eric," Swanhild answered. "Now, before thou drinkest, grant me one
little boon. It is but a woman's fancy, and thou canst scarce deny me. The
years will be long when thou art gone, for from this night it is best that =
we
should meet no more, and I would keep something of thee to call back thy me=
mory
and the memories of our youth when thou hast passed away and I grow old.&qu=
ot;
"What wouldst
have then, Swanhild? I have nothing left to give, except Whitefire alone.&q=
uot;
"I do not ask
Whitefire, Eric, though Whitefire shall kiss the gift. I ask nothing but one
tress of that golden hair of thine."
"Once I swore
that none should touch my hair again except Gudruda's self."
"It will grow
long, then, Eric, for now Gudruda tends black locks and thinks little on
golden. Broken are all oaths."
Eric groaned.
"All oaths are broken in sooth," he said. "Have then thy wil=
l;"
and, loosing the peace-strings, he drew Whitefire from its sheath and gave =
her the
great war-sword.
Swanhild took it =
by
the hilt, and, lifting a tress of Eric's yellow hair, she shore through it
deftly with Whitefire's razor-edge, smiling as she shore. With the same
war-blade on which Eric and Gudruda had pledged their troth, did Swanhild c=
ut
the locks that Eric had sworn no hand should clip except Gudruda's.
He took back the
sword and sheathed it, and, knotting the long tress, Swanhild hid it in her
bosom.
"Now drink t=
he
cup, Eric," she said--"pledge me and go."
Eric drank to the
dregs and cast the cup down, and lo! all things changed to him, for his blo=
od
was afire, and seas seemed to roll within his brain. Only before him stood
Swanhild like a shape of light and glory, and he thought that she sang soft=
ly
over him, always drawing nearer, and that with her came a scent of flowers =
like
the scent of the Iceland meads in May.
"All oaths a=
re
broken, Eric," she murmured, "all oaths are broken indeed, and now
must new oaths be sworn. For cut is thy golden hair, Brighteyes, and not by=
Gudruda's
hand!"
=
XX - HOW ERIC WAS NAMED A=
NEW
Eric dreamed. He
dreamed that Gudruda stood by him looking at him with soft, sad eyes, while
with her hand she pointed to his hair, and spake.
"Thou hast d=
one
ill, Eric," she seemed to say. "Thou hast done ill to doubt me; a=
nd
now thou art for ever shamed, for thou hast betrayed Atli, thy friend. Thou
hast broken thy oath, and therefore hast thou fallen into this pit; for when
Swanhild shore that lock of thine, my watching Spirit passed, leaving thee =
to
Swanhild and thy fate. Now, I tell thee this: that shame shall lead to sham=
e,
and many lives shall pay forfeit for thy sin, Eric."
Eric awoke, think=
ing
that this was indeed an evil dream which he had dreamed. He woke, and lo! by
him was Swanhild, Atli's wife. He looked upon her beauty, and fear and shame
crept into his heart, for now he knew that it was no dream, but he was lost
indeed. He looked again at Swanhild, and hatred and loathing of her shook h=
im.
She had overcome him by her arts; that cup was drugged which he had drunk, =
and
he was mad with grief. Yes, she had played upon his woe like a harper on a
harp, and now he was ashamed--now he had betrayed his friend who loved him!=
Had
Whitefire been to his hand at that moment, Eric had surely slain himself. B=
ut the
great sword was not there, for it hung in Swanhild's bower. Eric groaned al=
oud,
and Swanhild turned at the sound. But he sprang away and stood over her,
cursing her.
"Thou
witch!" he cried, "what hast thou done? What didst thou mix in th=
at
cup yestre'en? Thou hast brought me to this that I have betrayed Atli, my
friend--Atli, thy lord, who left thee in my keeping!"
He seemed so terr=
ible
in his woe and rage that Swanhild shrank from him, and, throwing her hair a=
bout
her face, peeped at him through its meshes as once she had peeped at Asmund=
.
"It is like a
man," she said, gathering up her courage and her wit; "'tis like a
man, having won my love, now to turn upon me and upbraid me. Fie upon thee,
Eric! thou hast dealt ill with me to bring me to this."
Now Eric ceased h=
is
raving, and spoke more calmly.
"Well thou
knowest the truth, Swanhild," he said.
"Hearken,
Eric," she answered. "Let this be secret between us. Atli is old,=
and
methinks that not for long shall he bide here in Straumey. Soon he will die=
; it
is upon my mind that he soon will die, and, being childless, his lands and
goods pass to me. Then, Eric, thou shalt sit in Atli's hall, and in all hon=
our
shall Atli's wife become thy bride."
Eric listened col= dly. "I can well believe," he said, "that thou hast it in mind to slay thy lord, for all evil is in thy heart, Swanhild. Now know this: that = if in honour or dishonour my lips touch that fair face of thine again, may the limbs rot from thy trunk, and may I lie a log for ever in the halls of Hela= ! If ever my eyes of their own will look again upon thy beauty, may I go blind a= nd beg my meat from homestead to homestead! If ever my tongue whisper word of = love into thy ears, may dumbness seize it, and may it wither to the root!"<= o:p>
Swanhild heard and
sank upon the ground before him, her head bowed almost to her feet.
"Now, Swanhi=
ld,
fare thee well," said Eric. "Living or dead, may I never see thy =
face
again!"
She gazed up thro=
ugh
her falling hair; her face was wild and white, and her eyes glowed in it as
live embers glow in the ashes of burnt wood.
"We are not =
so
easily parted, Eric," she said. "Not for this came I to witchcraft
and to sin. Thou fool! hast thou never heard that, of all the foes a man may
have, none is so terrible as the woman he has scorned? Thou shalt learn this
lesson, Eric Brighteyes, Thorgrimur's son: for here we have but the beginni=
ng
of the tale. For its end, I will write it in runes of blood."
"Write on,&q=
uot;
said Eric. "Thou canst do no worse than thou hast done," and he
passed thence.
For a while Swanh=
ild
crouched upon the ground, brooding in silence. Then she rose, and, throwing=
up
her arms, wept aloud.
"Is it for t=
his
that I have sold my soul to the Hell-hag?" she cried. "Is it for =
this
that I have become a witch, and sunk so low as I sank last night--to be
scorned, to be hated, to be betrayed? Now Eric will go to Atli and tell this
tale. Nay, there I will be beforehand with him, and with another story--an
ancient wile of women truly, but one that never yet has failed them, nor ev=
er
will. And then for vengeance! I will see thee dead, Eric, and dead will I s=
ee
Gudruda at thy side! Afterwards let darkness come--ay, though the horror ri=
des
it! Swift!--I must be swift!"
Eric passed into
Swanhild's bower, and, finding Whitefire, bore it thence. On the table was
food. He took it. Then, going to the place where he was wont to sleep, he a=
rmed
himself, girding his byrnie on his breast and his golden helm upon his head,
and taking shield and spear in his hand. Then he passed out. By the men's d=
oor
he found some women spreading fish in the sun. Eric greeted them, saying th=
at
when the Earl came back, for he was to come on that morning, he would find =
him
on the south-western rocks nigh to where the Gudruda sank. This he begged o=
f them
to tell Atli, for he desired speech with him.
The women wondered
that Brighteyes should go forth thus and fully armed, but, holding that he =
had
some deed to do, they said nothing.
Eric came to the
rocks, and there he sat all day long looking on the sea, and grieving so
bitterly that he thought his heart would burst within him. For of all the d=
ays
of Eric's life this was the heaviest, except one other only.
But Swanhild, goi=
ng
to her bower, caused Koll the Half-witted to be summoned. To him she spoke =
long
and earnestly, and they made a shameful plot together. Then she bade Koll w=
atch
for Atli's coming and, when he saw the Earl leave his boats, to run to him =
and
say that she would speak with him.
After this Swanhi=
ld
sent a man across the firth to the stead where Hall of Lithdale sat, bidding
him to come to her at speed.
When the afternoon
grew towards the evening, Koll, watching, saw the boats of Atli draw to the
landing-place. Then he went down, and, going to the Earl, bowed before him:=
"What wouldst
thou, fellow, and who art thou?" asked Atli.
"I am a man =
from
Iceland; perchance, lord, thou sawest me in Asmund's hall at Middalhof. I am
sent here by the Lady Swanhild to say that she desires speech with thee, and
that at once." Then, seeing Skallagrim, Koll fled back to the house, f=
or
he feared Skallagrim.
Now Atli was unea=
sy
in his mind, and, saying nothing, he hurried up to the hall, and through it
into Swanhild's bower.
There she sat on a
couch, her eyes red with weeping, and her curling hair unbound.
"What now,
Swanhild?" he asked. "Why lookest thou thus?"
"Why look I
thus, my lord?" she answered heavily. "Because I have to tell thee
that which I cannot find words to fit," and she ceased.
"Speak on,&q=
uot;
he said. "Is aught wrong with Eric?"
Then Swanhild dre=
w near
and told him a false tale.
When it was done = for a moment or so Atli stood still, and grew white beneath his ruddy skin, whi= te as his beard. Then he staggered back against the wainscoting of the bower.<= o:p>
"Woman, thou
liest!" he said. "Never will I believe so vile a thing of Eric
Brighteyes, whom I have loved."
"Would that I
could not believe it!" she answered. "Would that I could think it=
was
but an evil dream! But alas! Nay, I will prove it. Suffer that I summon Kol=
l,
the Icelander, who was my mother's thrall--Groa who now is dead, for I have
that tidings also. He saw something of this thing, and he will bear me
witness."
"Call the
man," said Atli sternly.
So Koll was summo= ned, and told his lies with a bold face. He was so well taught, and so closely d= id his story tally with that of Swanhild, that Atli could find no flaw in it.<= o:p>
"Now I am su=
re,
Swanhild, that thou speakest truth," said the Earl when Koll had gone.
"And now also I have somewhat to say to this Eric. For thee, rest thys=
elf;
that which cannot be mended must be borne," and he went out.
Now, when Skallag=
rim
came to the house he asked for Eric. The women told him that Brighteyes had
gone down to the sea, fully armed, in the morning, and had not returned.
"Then there =
must
be fighting toward, and that I am loth to miss," said Skallagrim, and,=
axe
aloft, he started for the south-western rocks at a run. Skallagrim came to =
the
rocks. There he found Eric, sitting in his harness, looking out across the =
sea.
The evening was wet and windy; the rain beat upon him as he sat, but Eric t=
ook
no heed.
"What seekest
thou, lord?" asked the Baresark.
"Rest,"
said Eric, "and I find none."
"Thou seekest rest helm on head and sword in hand? This is a strange thing, truly!"<= o:p>
"Stranger th= ings have been Skallagrim. Wouldst thou hear a tale?" and he told him all.<= o:p>
"What said
I?" asked Skallagrim. "We had fared better in London town. Flying
from the dove thou hast found the falcon."
"I have found
the falcon, comrade, and she has pecked out my eyes. Now I would speak with
Atli, and then I go hence."
"Hence go the
twain of us, lord. The Earl will be here presently and rough words will fly=
in
this rough weather. Is Whitefire sharp, Brighteyes?"
"Whitefire w=
as
sharp enough to shear my hair, Skallagrim; but if Atli would strike let him=
lay
on. Whitefire will not be aloft for him."
"That we sha=
ll
see," said Skallagrim. "At least, if thou art harmed because of t=
his
loose quean, my axe will be aloft."
"Keep thou t=
hine
axe in its place," said Eric, and as he spoke Atli came, and with him =
many
men.
Eric rose and tur=
ned
to meet the Earl, looking on him with sad eyes. For Atli, his face was as t=
he
face of a trapped wolf, for he was mad with rage at the shame that had been=
put
upon him and the ill tale that Swanhild had told of Eric's dealings with he=
r.
"It seems th=
at
the Earl has heard of these tidings," said Skallagrim.
"Then I shal=
l be
spared the telling of them," answered Eric.
Now they stood fa=
ce
to face; Atli leaned upon his drawn sword, and his wrath was so fierce that=
for
a while he could not speak. At length he found words.
"See ye that
man, comrades?" he said, pointing at Eric with the sword. "He has
been my guest these many months. He has sat in my hall and eaten of my brea=
d,
and I have loved him as a son. And wot ye how he has repaid me? He has put =
me
to the greatest shame, me and my wife the Lady Swanhild, whom I left in his
guard--to such shame, indeed, that I cannot speak it."
"True words,
Earl," said Eric, while folk murmured and handled their swords.
"True, but n=
ot
all the truth," growled Skallagrim. "Methinks the Earl has heard a
garbled tale."
"True words,
thyself thou sayest it," went on Atli "thou hound that I saved fr=
om
the sea! 'Ran's gift, Hela's gift,' so runs the saw, and now from Ran to He=
la
thou shalt go, thou mishandler of defenceless women!"
"Here is
somewhat of which I know nothing," said Eric.
"And here is
something of which thou shalt know," answered Atli, and he shook his s=
word
before Eric's eyes. "Guard thyself!"
"Nay, Earl; =
thou
art old, and I have done the wrong--I may not fight with thee."
"Art thou a
coward also?" said the Earl.
"Some have
deemed otherwise," said Eric, "but it is true that heavy heart ma=
kes
weak hand. Nevertheless this is my rede. With thee are ten men. Stand thou =
aside
and let them fall on me till I am slain."
"The odds are
too heavy even for thee," said Skallagrim. "Back to back,
lord, as we have
stood aforetime, and let us play this game together."
"Not so,&quo=
t;
cried Atli, "this shame is mine, and I have sworn to Swanhild that I w=
ill
wipe it out in Eric's blood. Stand thou before me and draw!"
Then Eric drew
Whitefire and raised his shield. Atli the Earl rushed at him and smote a gr=
eat
two-handed blow. Eric caught it on his shield and suffered no harm; but he =
would
not smite back.
Atli dropped his
point. "Niddering art thou, and coward to the last!" he cried.
"See, men, Eric Brighteyes fears to fight. I am not come to this that I
will cut down a man who is too faint-hearted to give blow for blow. This is=
my
word: take ye your spear-shafts and push this coward to the shore. Then put=
him
in a boat and drive him hence."
Now Eric grew red=
as
the red light of sunset, for his manhood might not bear this.
"Take
shield," he said, "and, Earl, on thine own head be thy blood, for=
none
shall live to call Eric niddering and coward."
Atli laughed in h=
is
folly and his rage. He took a shield, and, once more springing on Brighteye=
s,
struck a great blow.
Eric parried, then
whirled Whitefire on high and smote--once and once only! Down rushed the br=
ight
blade like a star through the night. Sword and shield did Atli lift to catch
the blow. Through shield it sheared, and arm that held the shield, through
byrnie mail and deep into Earl Atli's side. He fell prone to earth, while m=
en
held their breath, wondering at the greatness of that stroke.
But Eric leaned on
Whitefire and looked at the old Earl upon the rock.
"Now, Atli, =
thou
hast had thy way," he said, "and methinks things are worse than t=
hey
were before. But I will say this: would that I lay there and thou stoodest =
to
watch me die, for as lief would I have slain my father as thee, Earl Atli.
There lies Swanhild's work!"
Atli gazed upwards
into Eric's sad eyes and, while he gazed so, his rage left him, and of a su=
dden
a light brake upon his mind, as even then the light of the setting sun brake
through the driving mist.
"Eric,"=
he
said, "draw near and speak with me ere I am sped. Methinks that I have
been beguiled and that thou didst not do this thing that Swanhild said and =
Koll
bore witness to."
"What did
Swanhild say, then, Earl Atli?"
The Earl told him=
.
"It was to be
looked for from her," said Eric, "though I never thought of it. N=
ow
hearken!" and he told him all.
Atli groaned alou=
d.
"I know this now, Eric," he said: "that thou speakest truth,=
and
once more I have been deceived. Eric, I forgive thee all, for no man may fi=
ght
against woman's witchcraft, and witch's wine. Swanhild is evil to the heart.
Yet, Eric, I lay this doom upon thee--I do not lay it of my own will, for I=
would
not harm thee, whom I love, but because of the words that the Norns put in =
my
mouth, for now I am fey in this the hour of my death. Thou hast sinned, and
that thou didst sin against thy will shall avail thee nothing, for of thy s=
in
fate shall fashion a handle to the spear which pierces thee. Henceforth thou
art accursed. For I tell thee that this wicked woman Swanhild shall drag th=
ee
down to death, and worse than death, and with thee those thou lovest. By
witchcraft she brought thee to Straumey, by lies she laid me here before th=
ee.
Now by hate and might and cruel deeds shall she bring thee to lie more low =
than
I do. For, Eric, thou art bound to her, and thou shalt never loose the
bond!"
Atli ceased a whi=
le,
then spoke again more faintly:
"Hearken, co=
mrades,"
he cried; "my strength is well-nigh spent. Ye shall swear four things =
to
me--that ye will give Eric Brighteyes and Skallagrim Lambstail safe passage
from Straumey. That ye will tell Swanhild the Fatherless, Groa's daughter a=
nd
Atli's wife, that, at last, I know her for what she is--a murderess, a harl=
ot,
a witch and a liar; and that I forgive Eric whom she tricked, but that her I
hate and spit upon. That ye will slay Koll the Half-witted, Groa's thrall, =
who
came hither about two days gone, since by his lies he hath set an edge upon=
this
sword of falsehood. That ye will raise no blood-feud against Eric for this =
my
slaying, for I goaded him to the deed. Do ye swear?"
"We swear,&q=
uot;
said the men.
"Then farewe=
ll!
And to thee farewell, also, Eric Brighteyes! Now take my hand and hold it w=
hile
I die. Behold! I give thee a new name, and by that name thou shalt be calle=
d in
story. I name thee Eric the Unluck=
y . Of
all tales that are told, thine shall be the greatest. A mighty stroke that =
was
of thine--a mighty stroke! Farewell!"
Then his head fell
back upon the rock and Earl Atli died. And as he died the last rays of light
went out of the sky.
=
XXI - HOW HALL OF LITHDALE
TOOK TIDINGS TO ICELAND
Now on the same n=
ight
that Atli died at the hand of Eric, Swanhild spake with Hall of Lithdale, w=
hom
she had summoned from the mainland. She bade him do this: take passage in a
certain ship that should sail for Iceland on the morrow from the island tha=
t is
called Westra, and there tell all these tidings of the ill-doings of Eric a=
nd
of the slaying of Atli by his hand.
"Thou shalt =
say
this," she went on, "that Eric had been my love for long, but tha=
t at
length the matter came to the ears of Atli, the Earl. Then, holding this the
greatest shame, he went on holmgang with Eric and was slain by him. This sh=
alt
thou add to thy tale also, that presently Eric and I will wed, and that Eric
shall rule as Earl in Orkneys. Now these tidings must soon come to the ears=
of
Gudruda the Fair, and she will send for thee, and question thee straightly
concerning them, and thou shalt tell her the tale as thou toldest it at fir=
st.
Then thou shalt give Gudruda this packet, which I send her as a gift, sayin=
g,
that I bade her remember a certain oath which Eric took as to the cutting o=
f his
hair. And when she sees that which is within the packet is somewhat stained,
tell her that is but the blood of Atli that is upon it, as his blood is upon
Eric's hands. Now remember thou this, Hall, that if thou fail in the errand=
thy
life shall pay forfeit, for presently I will also come to Iceland and hear =
how
thou hast sped."
Then Swanhild gave
him faring-money and gifts of wadmal and gold rings, promising that he shou=
ld
have so much again when she came to Iceland.
Hall said that he would do all these things, and went at once; nor did he fail in his tasks.<= o:p>
Atli being dead, =
Eric
loosed his hand and called to the men to take up his body and bear it to the
hall. This they did. Eric stood and watched them till they were lost in the
darkness.
"Whither now,
lord?" said Skallagrim.
"It matters
little," said Eric. "What is thy counsel?"
"This is my
counsel. That we take ship and sail back to the King in London. There we wi=
ll
tell all this tale. It is a far cry from Straumey to London town, and there=
we
shall sit in peace, for the King will think little of the slaying of an Ork=
ney
Earl in a brawl about a woman. Mayhap, too, the Lady Elfrida will not set g=
reat
store by it. Therefore, I say, let us fare back to London."
"In but one
place am I at home, and that is Iceland," said Eric. "Thither I w=
ill
go, Skallagrim, though it be but to miss friend from stead and bride from b=
ed.
At the least I shall find Ospakar there."
"Listen,
lord!" said Skallagrim. "Was it not my rede that we should bide t=
his
winter through in London? Thou wouldst none of it, and what came about? Our
ship is sunk, gone are our comrades, thine honour is tarnished, and dead is=
thy
host at thine own hand. Yet I say all is not lost. Let us hence south, and =
see
no more of Swanhild, of Gudruda, of Björn and Ospakar. So shall we break the
spell. But if thou goest to Iceland, I am sure of this: that the evil fate
which Atli foretold will fall on thee, and the days to come shall be even m=
ore
unlucky than the days that have been."
"It may be
so," said Eric. "Methinks, indeed, it will be so. Henceforth I am
Eric the Unlucky. I will go back to Iceland and there play out the game. I =
care
little if I live or am slain--I have no more joy in my life. I stand alone,
like a fir upon a mountain-top, and every wind from heaven and every storm =
of
hail and snow beats upon my head. But I say to thee, Skallagrim: go thy roa=
d,
and leave a luckless man to his ill fate. Otherwise it shall be thine also.
Good friend hast thou been to me; now let us part and wend south and north.=
The
King will be glad to greet thee yonder in London, Lambstail."
"But one
severing shall we know, lord," said Skallagrim, "and that shall be
sword's work, nor will it be for long. It is ill to speak such words as the=
se
of the parting of lord and thrall. Bethink thee of the oath I swore on Mosf=
ell.
Let us go north, since it is thy will: in fifty years it will count for lit=
tle
which way we wended from the Isles."
So they went toge=
ther
down to the shore, and, finding a boat and men who as yet knew nothing of w=
hat
had chanced to Atli, they sailed across the firth at the rising of the moon=
.
Two days afterwar=
ds
they found a ship at Wick that was bound for Fareys, and sailed in her, Eric
buying a passage with the half of a gold ring that the King had given him in
London.
Here at Fareys th=
ey
sat a month or more; but not in the Earl's hall as when Eric came with hono=
ur
in the Gudruda, but in a farmer's stead. For the tale of Eric's dealings wi=
th
Atli and Atli's wife had reached Fareys, and the Earl there had been a frie=
nd
of Atli's. Moreover, Eric was now a poor man, having neither ship nor goods,
nor friends. Therefore all looked coldly on him, though they wondered at his
beauty and his might. Still, they dared not to speak ill or make a mock of =
him;
for, two men having done so, were nearly slain of Skallagrim, who seized the
twain by the throat, one in either hand, and dashed their heads together. A=
fter
that men said little.
They sat there a
month, till at length a chapman put in at Fareys, bound for Iceland, and th=
ey
took passage with him, Eric paying the other half of his gold ring for
ship-room. The chapman was not willing to give them place at first, for he,
too, had heard the tale; but Skallagrim offered him choice, either to do so=
or
to go on holmgang with him. Then the chapman gave them passage.
Now it is told th=
at
when his thralls and house-carles bore the corpse of Atli the Earl to his h=
all
in Straumey, Swanhild met it and wept over it. And when the spokesman among
them stood forward and told her those words that Atli had bidden them to sa=
y to
her, sparing none, she spoke thus:
"My lord was
distraught and weak with loss of blood when he spoke thus. The tale I told =
him
was true, and now Eric has added to his sin by shedding the blood of him wh=
om
he wronged so sorely."
And thereafter she
spoke so sweetly and with so much gentleness, craft, and wisdom that, though
they still doubted them, all men held her words weighty. For Swanhild had t=
his
art, that she could make the false sound true in the ears of men and the tr=
ue
sound false.
Still, being mind=
ful
of their oath, they hunted for Koll and found him. And when the thrall knew
that they would slay him he ran thence screaming. Nor did Swanhild lift a h=
and
to save his life, for she desired that Koll should die, lest he should bear
witness against her. Away he ran towards the cliffs, and after him sped Atl=
i's
house-carles, till he came to the great cliffs that edge in the sea. Now th=
ey
were close upon him and their swords were aloft. Then, sooner than know the=
kiss
of steel, the liar leapt from the cliffs and was crushed, dying miserably on
the rocks below. This was the end of Koll the Half-witted, Groa's thrall.
Swanhild sat in
Straumey for a while, and took all Atli's heritage into her keeping, for he=
had
no male kin; nor did any say her nay. Also she called in the moneys that he=
had
out at interest, and that was a great sum, for Atli was a careful and a wea=
lthy
man. Then Swanhild made ready to go to Iceland. Atli had a great dragon of =
war,
and she manned that ship and filled it with stores and all things needful. =
This
done, she set stewards and grieves over the Orkney lands and farms, and, wh=
en
the Earl was six weeks dead, she sailed for Iceland, giving out that she we=
nt
thither to set a blood-suit on foot against Eric for the death of Atli, her
lord. There she came in safety just as folk rode to the Thing.
Now Hall of Lithd=
ale
came to Iceland and told his tale of the doings of Eric and the death of At=
li.
Oft and loud he told it, and soon people gossiped of it in field and fair a=
nd
stead. Björn, Asmund's son, heard this talk and sent for Hall. To him also =
Hall
told the tale.
"Now," =
said
Björn, "we will go to my sister Gudruda the Fair, and learn how she ta=
kes
these tidings."
So they went in to
where Gudruda sat spinning in the hall, singing as she span.
"Greeting,
Gudruda," said Björn; "say, hast thou tidings of Eric Brighteyes,=
thy
betrothed?"
"I have no
tidings," said Gudruda.
"Then here is
one who brings them."
Now for the first
time Gudruda the Fair saw Hall of Lithdale. Up she sprang. "Thou hast
tidings of Eric, Hall? Ah! thou art welcome, for no tidings have come of him
for many a month. Speak on," and she pressed her hand against her heart
and leaned towards him.
"My tidings =
are
ill, lady."
"Is Eric dea=
d?
Say not that my love is dead!"
"He is worse
than dead," said Hall. "He is shamed."
"There thou
liest, Hall," she answered. "Shame and Eric are things apart.&quo=
t;
"Mayst thou
think so when thou hast heard my tale, lady," said Hall, "for I am
sad at heart to speak it of one who was my mate."
"Speak on, I
say," answered Gudruda, in such a voice that Hall shrank from her.
"Speak on; but of this I warn thee: that if in one word thou liest, th=
at
shall be thy death when Eric comes."
Now Hall was afra=
id,
thinking of the axe of Skallagrim. Still, he might not go back upon his wor=
d.
So he began at the beginning, telling the story of how he was wounded in the
fight with Ospakar's ships and left Farey isles, and how he came thence to
Scotland and sat in Atli's hall on Orkneys. Then he told how the Gudruda was
wrecked on Straumey, and, of all aboard, Eric and Skallagrim alone were sav=
ed
because of Swanhild's dream.
"Herein I see
witch-work," said Gudruda.
Then Hall told th=
at
Eric became Swanhild's love, but of the other tale which Swanhild had whisp=
ered
to Atli he said nothing. For he knew that Gudruda would not believe this, a=
nd,
moreover, if it were so, Swanhild had not sent the token which he should gi=
ve.
"It may well
be," said Gudruda, proudly; "Swanhild is fair and light of mind.
Perchance she led Brighteyes into this snare." But, though she spoke t=
hus,
bitter jealousy and anger burned in her breast and she remembered the sight
which she had seen when Eric and Swanhild met on the morn of Atli's wedding=
.
Then Hall told of=
the
slaying of Atli the Good by Eric, but he said nothing of the Earl's dying
words, nor of how he goaded Brighteyes with his bitter words.
"It was an i=
ll
deed in sooth," said Gudruda, "for Eric to slay an old man whom he
had wronged. Still, it may chance that he was driven to it for his own life=
's
sake."
Then Hall said th=
at
he had seen Swanhild after Atli's slaying, and that she had told him that s=
he
and Eric should wed shortly, and that Eric would rule in Orkneys by her sid=
e.
Gudruda asked if =
that
was all his tale.
"Yes,
lady," answered Hall, "that is all my tale, for after that I sail=
ed
and know not what happened. But I am charged to give something to thee, and
that by the Lady Swanhild. She bade me say this also: that, when thou looke=
st
on the gift, thou shouldst think on a certain oath which Eric took as to the
cutting of his hair." And he drew a linen packet from his breast and g=
ave
it to her.
Thrice Gudruda lo=
oked
on it, fearing to open it. Then, seeing the smile of mockery on Björn's cold
face, she took the shears that hung at her side and cut the thread with the=
m.
And as she cut, a lock of golden hair rose from the packet, untwisting itse=
lf
like a living snake. The lock was long, and its end was caked with gore.
"Whose hair =
is this?"
said Gudruda, though she knew the hair well.
"Eric's
hair," said Hall, "that Swanhild cut from his head with Eric's sw=
ord."
Now Gudruda put h=
er
hand to her bosom. She drew out a satchel, and from the satchel a lock of
yellow hair. Side by side she placed the locks, looking first at one and th=
en
at the other.
"This is Eri=
c's
hair in sooth," she said--"Eric's hair that he swore none but I
should cut! Eric's hair that Swanhild shore with Whitefire from Eric's
head--Whitefire whereon we plighted troth! Say now, whose blood is this that
stains the hair of Eric?"
"It is Atli's
blood, whom Eric first dishonoured and then slew with his own hand,"
answered Hall.
Now there burned a
fire on the hearth, for the day was cold. Gudruda the Fair stood over the f=
ire
and with either hand she let the two locks of Eric's hair fall upon the emb=
ers.
Slowly they twisted up and burned. She watched them burn, then she threw up=
her
hands and with a great cry fled from the hall.
Björn and Hall of
Lithdale looked on each other.
"Thou hadst =
best
go hence!" said Björn; "and of this I warn thee, Hall, though I h=
old
thy tidings good, that, if thou hast spoken one false word, that will be thy
death. For then it would be better for thee to face all the wolves in Icela=
nd
than to stand before Eric in his rage."
Again Hall bethou=
ght
himself of the axe of Skallagrim, and he went out heavily.
That day a messen=
ger
came from Gudruda to Björn, saying that she would speak with him. He went to
where she sat alone upon her bed. Her face was white as death, and her dark
eyes glowed.
"Eric has de=
alt
badly with thee, sister, to bring thee to this sorrow," said Björn.
"Speak no ev=
il
of Eric to me," Gudruda answered. "The evil that he has done will=
be
paid back to him; there is little need for thee to heap words upon his head.
Hearken, Björn my brother: is it yet thy will that I should wed Ospakar
Blacktooth?"
"That is my
will, surely. There is no match in Iceland as this Ospakar, and I should win
many friends by it."
"Do this the=
n,
Björn. Send messengers to Swinefell and say to Ospakar that if he would sti=
ll
wed Gudruda the Fair, Asmund's daughter, let him come to Middalhof when folk
ride from the Thing and he shall not go hence alone. Nay, I have done. Now,=
I
pray thee speak no more to me of Eric or of Ospakar. Of the one I have seen=
and
heard enough, and of the other I shall hear and see enough in the years that
are to come."
=
XXII - HOW ERIC CAME HOME
AGAIN
Swanhild made a g=
ood
passage from the Orkneys, and was in Iceland thirty-five days before Eric a=
nd
Skallagrim set foot there. But she did not land by Westman Isles, for she h=
ad
no wish to face Gudruda at that time, but by Reyjaness. Now she rode thence
with her company to Thingvalla, for here all men were gathered for the Thin=
g.
At first people hung aloof from her, notwithstanding her wealth and beauty;=
but
Swanhild knew well how to win the hearts of men. For now she told the same
story of Eric that she had told to Atli, and there were none to say her nay=
. So
it came to pass that she was believed, and Eric Brighteyes held to be shamed
indeed. Now, too, she set a suit on foot against Eric for the death of Atli=
at
his hand, claiming that sentence of the greater outlawry should be passed
against him, and that his lands at Coldback in the Marsh on Ran River shoul=
d be
given, half to her in atonement for the Earl's death, and half to the men of
Eric's quarter.
On the day of the
opening of the Thing Ospakar Blacktooth came from the north, and with him h=
is
son Gizur and a great company of men. Ospakar was blithe, for from the Thin=
g he
should ride to Middalhof, there to wed Gudruda the Fair. Then Swanhild clad
herself in beautiful attire, and, taking men with her, went to the booth of
Ospakar.
Blacktooth sat in=
his
booth and by him sat Gizur his son the Lawman. When he saw a beauteous lady,
very richly clad, enter the booth he did not know who it might be. But Gizur
knew her well, for he could never put Swanhild from his mind.
"Lo! here co=
mes
Swanhild the Fatherless, Atli's widow," said Gizur, flushing red with =
joy
at the sight of her.
Then Ospakar gree=
ted
her heartily, and made place for her by him at the top of the booth.
"Ospakar
Blacktooth," she said, "I am come to ask this of thee: that thou
shalt befriend me in the suit which I have against Eric Brighteyes for the
slaying of Earl Atli, my husband."
"Thou couldst
have come to no man who is more willing," said Ospakar, "for, if =
thou
hast something against Eric, I have yet more."
"I would ask
this, too, Ospakar: that thy son Gizur should take up my suit and plead it;=
for
I know well that he is the most skilful of all lawmen."
"I will do
that," said Gizur, his eyes yet fixed upon her face.
"I looked fo=
r no
less from thee," said Swanhild, "and be sure of this, that thou s=
halt
not plead for nothing," and she glanced at him meaningly. Then she set=
out
her case with a lying tongue, and afterwards went back to her booth, glad at
heart. For now she learned that Hall had not failed in his errand, seeing t=
hat
Gudruda was about to wed Ospakar.
Gizur gave warnin=
g of
the blood-suit, and the end of it was that, though he had no notice and was=
not
there to answer to the charge, against all right and custom Eric was declar=
ed
outlaw and his lands were given, half to Swanhild and half to the men of his
quarter. For now all held that Swanhild's was a true tale, and Eric the most
shameful of men, and therefore they were willing to stretch the law against
him. Also, being absent, he had few friends, and those men of small account;
whereas Ospakar, who backed Swanhild's suit, was the most powerful of the n=
orthern
chiefs, as Gizur was the most skilled lawman in Iceland. Moreover, Björn the
Priest, Asmund's son, was among the judges, and, though Swanhild's tale see=
med
strange to him after that which he had heard from Hall of Lithdale, he loved
Eric little. He feared also that if Eric came a free man to Iceland before
Gudruda was wed to Ospakar, her love would conquer her anger, for he could =
see
well that she still loved Brighteyes. Therefore he strove with might and ma=
in
that Eric should be brought in guilty, nor did he fail in this.
So the end of it =
was
that Eric Brighteyes was outlawed, his lands declared forfeit, and his head=
a
wolf's head, to be taken by him who might, should he set foot in Iceland.
Thereafter, the
Althing being ended, Björn, Gizur, and Ospakar, with all their company, rode
away to Middalhof to sit at the marriage-feast. But Swanhild and her folk w=
ent
by sea in the long war-ship to Westmans. For this was her plan: to seize on
Coldback and to sit there for a while, till she saw if Eric came out to
Iceland. Also she desired to see the wedding of Ospakar and Gudruda, for she
had been bidden to it by Björn, her half-brother.
Now Ospakar came =
to
Middalhof, and found Gudruda waiting his coming.
She stood in the
great hall, pale and cold as April snow, and greeted him courteously. But w=
hen
he would have kissed her, she shrank from him, for now he was more hideous =
in
her sight than he had ever been, and she loathed him in her heart.
That night there =
was feasting
in the hall, and at the feast Gudruda heard that Eric had been made outlaw.
Then she spoke:
"This is an =
ill
deed, thus to judge an absent man."
"Say,
Gudruda," said Björn in her ear, "hast thou not also judged Eric =
who
is absent?"
She turned her he=
ad
and spoke no more of Eric; but Björn's words fixed themselves in her heart =
like
arrows. The tale was strange to her, for it seemed that Eric had been made
outlaw at Swanhild's suit, and yet Eric was Swanhild's love: for Swanhild's
self had sent the lock of Brighteyes' hair by Hall, saying that he was her =
love
and soon would wed her. How, then, did Swanhild bring a suit against him who
should be her husband? Moreover, she heard that Swanhild sailed down to
Coldback, and was bidden to the marriage-feast, that should be on the third=
day
from now. Could it be, then, when all was said and done, that Eric was less=
faithless
than she deemed? Gudruda's heart stood still and the blood rushed to her br=
ow
when she thought on it. Also, even if it were so, it was now too late. And
surely it was not so, for had not Eric been made outlaw? Men were not made
outlaw for a little thing. Nay, she would meet her fate, and ask no more of
Eric and his doings.
On the morrow, as
Gudruda sat in her chamber, it was told her that Saevuna, Thorgrimur's widow
and Eric's mother, had come from Coldback to speak with her. For, after the
death of Asmund and of Unna, Saevuna had moved back to Coldback on the Mars=
h.
"Nay, how can
this be?" said Gudruda astonished, for she knew well that Saevuna was =
now
both blind and bed-ridden.
"She has been
borne here in a chair," said the woman who told her, "and that is=
a
strange sight to see."
At first Gudruda =
was
minded to say her nay; but her heart softened, and she bade them bring Saev=
una
in. Presently she came, being set in a chair upon the shoulders of four men.
She was white to see, for sickness had aged her much, and she stared about =
her
with sightless eyes. But she was still tall and straight, and her face was
stern to look on. To Gudruda it seemed like that of Eric when he was angere=
d.
"Am I nigh to
Gudruda the Fair, Asmund's daughter?" asked Saevuna. "Methinks I =
hear
her breathe."
"I am here,
mother," said Gudruda. "What is thy will with me?"
"Set down,
carles, and begone!" quoth Saevuna; "that which I have to say I w=
ould
say alone. When I summon you, come."
The carles set do=
wn
the chair upon the floor and went.
"Gudruda,&qu=
ot;
said the dame, "I am risen from my deathbed, and I have caused myself =
to
be borne on my last journey here across the meads, that I may speak with th=
ee
and warn thee. I hear that thou hast put away my son, Eric Brighteyes, to w=
hom
thou art sworn in marriage, and art about to give thyself to Ospakar
Blacktooth. I hear also that thou hast done this deed because a certain man,
Hall of Lithdale--whom from his youth up I have known for a liar and a knav=
e,
and whom thou thyself didst mistrust in years gone by--has come hither to
Iceland from Orkneys, bearing a tale of Eric's dealings with thy half-sister
Swanhild. This I hear, further: that Swanhild, Atli's widow, hath come out =
to
Iceland and laid a suit against Eric for the slaying of Atli the Earl, her
husband, and that Eric has been outlawed and his lands at Coldback are forf=
eit.
Tell me now, Gudruda, Asmund's daughter, if these tales be true?"
"The tales a=
re
true, mother," said Gudruda.
"Then hearke=
n to
me, girl. Eric sprang from my womb, who of all living men is the best and
first, as he is the bravest and most strong. I have reared this Eric from a
babe and I know his heart well. Now I tell thee this, that, whatever Eric h=
as
done or left undone, naught of dishonour is on his hands. Mayhap Swanhild h=
as
deceived him--thou art a woman, and thou knowest well the arts which women
have, and the strength that Freya gives them. Well thou knowest, also, of w=
hat
breed this Swanhild came; and perchance thou canst remember how she dealt w=
ith
thee, and with what mind she looked on Eric. Perchance thou canst remember =
how
she plotted against thee and Eric--ay, how she thrust thee from Goldfoss br=
ink.
Say, then, wilt thou take her word? Wilt thou take the word of this witch-d=
aughter
of a witch? Wilt thou not think on Groa, her mother, and of Groa's dealings
with thy father, and with Unna my kinswoman? As the mother is, so shall the
daughter be. Wilt thou cast Eric aside, and that unheard?"
"There is no
more room for doubt, mother," said Gudruda. "I have proof of this:
that Eric has forsaken me."
"So thou
thinkest, child; but I tell thee that thou art wrong! Eric loves thee now a=
s he
loved thee aforetime, and will love thee always."
"Would that I
could believe it!" said Gudruda. "If I could believe that Eric st=
ill
loved me--ay, even though he had been faithless to me--I would die ere I wed
Ospakar!"
"Thou art
foolish, Gudruda, and thou shalt rue thy folly bitterly. I am outworn, and
death draws near to me--far from me now are hates and loves, hopes and fear=
s;
but I know this: that woman is mad who, loving a man, weds where she loves =
not.
Shame shall be her portion and bitterness her bread. Unhappy shall she live,
and when she comes to die, but as a wilderness--but as the desolate winter
snow, shall be the record of her days!"
Now Gudruda wept
aloud. "What is done is done," she cried; "the bridegroom si=
ts
within the hall--the bride awaits him in the bower. What is done is done--I=
may
hope no more to be saved from Ospakar."
"What is don=
e is
done, yet it can be brought to nothing; but soon that shall be done which m=
ay
never be undone! Gudruda, fare thee well! Never shall I listen to thy voice
again. I hold thee shameless, thou unfaithful woman, who in thy foolish
jealousy art ready to sell thyself to the arms of one thou hatest! Ho! carl=
es;
come hither. Bear me hence!"
Now the men came =
in
and took up Saevuna's chair. Gudruda watched them bear her forth. Then sudd=
enly
she sprang from her seat and ran after her into the hall, weeping bitterly.=
Now as Saevuna,
Eric's mother, was carried out she was met by Ospakar and Björn.
"Stay,"
said Björn. "What does this carline here?--and why weeps Gudruda, my
sister?"
The men halted.
"Who calls me 'carline'?" said Saevuna. "Is the voice I hear=
the
voice of Björn, Asmund's son?"
"It is my vo=
ice,
truly," said Björn, "and I would know this--and this would Ospaka=
r,
who stands at my side, know also--why thou comest here, carline? and why
Gudruda weeps?"
"Gudruda wee=
ps
because she has good cause to weep, Björn. She weeps because she has betray=
ed
her love, Eric Brighteyes, my son, and is about to be sold in marriage--to =
be
sold to thee, Ospakar Blacktooth, like a heifer at a fair."
Then Björn grew a=
ngry
and cursed Saevuna, nor did Ospakar spare to add his ill words. But the old
dame sat in her chair, listening silently till all their curses were spent.=
"Ye are evil,
the twain of you," she said, "and ye have told lies of Eric, my s=
on;
and ye have taken his bride for lust and greed, playing on the jealous foll=
y of
a maid like harpers on a harp. Now I tell you this, Björn and Ospakar! My b=
lind
eyes are opened and I see this hall of Middalhof, and lo! it is but a gore =
of
blood! Blood flows upon the board--blood streams along the floor, and ye--ye
twain!--lie dead thereon, and about your shapes are shrouds, and on her feet
are Hell-shoon! Eric comes and Whitefire is aloft, and no more shall ye sta=
nd
before him whom ye have slandered than stands the birch before the lightning
stroke! Eric comes! I see his angry eyes--I see his helm flash in the
door-place! Red was that marriage-feast at which sat Unna, my kinswoman, and
Asmund, thy father--redder shall be the feast where sit Gudruda, thy sister,
and Ospakar! The wolf howls at thy door, Björn! the grave-worm opens his mo=
uth!
trolls run to and fro upon thy threshold, and the ghosts of men speed
Hellwards! Ill were the deeds of Groa--worse shall be the deeds of Groa's d=
aughter!
Red is thy hall with blood, Björn!--for Whitefire is aloft and-- I tell thee
Eric comes! "--and with one great cry she fell back--dead.
Now they stood
amazed, and trembling in their fear.
"Saevuna hath
spoken strange words," said Björn.
"Shall we be
frightened by a dead hag?" quoth Ospakar, drawing his breath again.
"Fellows, bear this carrion forth, or we fling it to the dogs."
Then the men tied=
the
body of Saevuna, Thorgrimur's widow, Eric's mother, fast in the chair, and =
bore
it thence. But when at length they came to Coldback, they found that Swanhi=
ld
was there with all her following, and had driven Eric's grieve and his folk=
to
the fells. But one old carline, who had been nurse to Eric, was left there,=
and
she sat wailing in an outhouse, being too weak to move.
Then the men set =
down
the corpse of Saevuna in the outhouse, and, having told all their tale to t=
he
carline, they fled also.
That night passed,
and passed the morrow; but on the next day at dawn Eric Brighteyes and
Skallagrim Lambstail landed near Westman Isles. They had made a bad passage
from Fareys, having been beat about by contrary winds; but at length they c=
ame
safe and well to land.
Now this was the =
day
of the marriage-feast of Gudruda the Fair and Ospakar; but Eric knew nothin=
g of
these tidings.
"Where to no=
w,
lord?" said Skallagrim.
"To Coldback
first, to see my mother, if she yet lives, and to learn tidings of Gudruda.
Then as it may chance."
Near to the beach=
was
a yeoman's house. Thither they went to hire horses; but none were in the ho=
use,
for all had gone to Gudruda's marriage-feast. In the home meadow ran two go=
od
horses, and in the outhouses were saddles and bridles. They caught the hors=
es,
saddled them and rode for Coldback. When they had ridden for something over=
an
hour they came to the crest of a height whence they could see Coldback in t=
he Marsh.
Eric drew rein and
looked, and his heart swelled within him at the sight of the place where he=
was
born. But as he looked he saw a great train of people ride away from Coldba=
ck
towards Middalhof--and in the company a woman wearing a purple cloak.
"Now what may
this mean?" said Eric.
"Ride on and=
we
shall learn," answered Skallagrim.
So they rode on, =
and
as they rode Eric's breast grew heavy with fear. Now they passed up the ban=
ked
way through the home meadows of the house, but they could see no one; and n=
ow
they were at the door. Down sprang Eric and walked into the hall. But none =
were
there to greet him, though a fire yet burned upon the earth. Only a gaunt h=
ound
wandered about the hall, and, seeing him, sprang towards him, growling. Eric
knew him for his old wolf-hound, and called him by his name. The dog listen=
ed,
then ran up and smelt his hands, and straightway howled with joy and leapt =
upon
him. For a while he leapt thus, while Eric stared around him wondering and =
sad
at heart. Then the dog ran to the door and stopped, whining. Eric followed
after him. The hound passed through the entrance, and across the yard till =
he
came to an outhouse. Here the dog stopped and scratched at the door, still
whining. Eric thrust it open. Lo! there before him sat Saevuna, his mother,
dead in a chair, and at her feet crouched the carline--she who had been Eri=
c's
nurse.
Now he grasped the
door-posts to steady himself, and his shadow fell upon the white face of his
mother and the old carline at her feet.
=
XXIII - HOW ERIC WAS A GU=
EST
AT THE WEDDING-FEAST OF GUDRUDA THE FAIR
Eric looked, but =
said
nothing.
"Who art
thou?" whined the carline, gazing up at him with tear-blinded eyes. Bu=
t Eric's
face was in the shadow, and she only saw the glint of his golden hair and t=
he
flash of the golden helm. For Eric could not speak yet a while.
"Art thou on=
e of
the Swanhild's folk, come to drive me hence with the rest? Good sir, I cann=
ot
go to the fells, my limbs are too weak. Slay me, if thou wilt, but drive me=
not
from this," and she pointed to the corpse. "Say now, will thou not
help me to give it burial? It is unmeet that she who in her time had husban=
d,
and goods, and son, should lie unburied like a dead cow on the fells. I have
still a hundred in silver, if I might but come at it. It is hidden, sir, an=
d I
will pay thee if thou wilt help me to bury her. These old hands are too fee=
ble
to dig a grave, nor could I bear her there alone if it were dug. Thou wilt =
not help
me?--then may thine own mother's bones lie uncovered, and be picked of gulls
and ravens. Oh, that Eric Brighteyes would come home again! Oh, that Eric w=
as
here! there is work to do and never a man to do it."
Now Eric gave a g=
reat
sob and cried, "Nurse, nurse! knowest thou me not! I am
Eric Brighteyes."
She uttered a loud
cry, and, clasping him by the knees, looked up into his face.
"Thanks be to
Odin! Thou art Eric--Eric come home again! But alas, thou hast come too
late!"
"What has
happened, then?" said Eric.
"What has
happened? All evil things. Thou art outlawed, Eric, at the suit of Swanhild=
for
the slaying of Atli the Earl. Swanhild sits here in Coldback, for she hath
seized thy lands. Saevuna, thy mother, died two days ago in the hall of
Middalhof, whither she went to speak with Gudruda."
"Gudruda! wh=
at
of Gudruda?" cried Eric.
"This,
Brighteyes: to-day she weds Ospakar Blacktooth."
Eric covered his =
face
with his hand. Presently he lifted it.
"Thou art ri=
ch
in evil tidings, nurse, though, it would seem, poor in all besides. Tell me=
at
what hour is the wedding-feast?"
"An hour aft=
er
noon, Eric; but now Swanhild has ridden thither with her company."
"Then room m=
ust
be found at Middalhof for one more guest," said Eric, and laughed alou=
d.
"Go on!--pour out thy evil news and spare me not!--for nothing has any
more power to harm me now! Come hither, Skallagrim, and see and hearken.&qu=
ot;
Skallagrim came a=
nd
looked on the face of dead Saevuna.
"I am outlaw=
ed
at Swanhild's suit, Lambstail. My life lies in thy hand, if so be thou woul=
dst
take it! Hew off my head, if thou wilt, and bear it to Gudruda the Fair--she
will thank thee for the gift. Lay on, Lambstail; lay on with that axe of
thine."
"Child's
talk!" said Skallagrim.
"Child's tal=
k,
but man's work! Thou hast not heard the tale out. Swanhild hath seized my l=
ands
and sits here at Coldback! And--what thinkest thou, Skallagrim?--but now she
has ridden a-guesting to the marriage-feast of Ospakar Blacktooth with Gudr=
uda
the Fair! Swanhild at Gudruda's wedding!--the eagle in the wild swan's nest!
But there will be another guest," and again he laughed aloud.
" Two other guests," said Skallagrim.
"More of thy
tale, old nurse!--more of thy tale!" quoth Eric. "No better didst
thou ever tell me when, as a lad, I sat by thee, in the ingle o' winter
nights--and the company is fitting to the tale!" and he pointed to dead
Saevuna.
Then the carline =
told
on. She told how Hall of Lithdale had come out to Iceland, and of the story
that he bore to Gudruda, and of the giving of the lock of hair.
"What did I =
say,
lord?" broke in Skallagrim--"that in Hall thou hadst let a weasel=
go
who would live to nip thee?"
"Him I will
surely live to shorten by a head," quoth Eric.
"Nay, lord, =
this
one for me--Ospakar for thee, Hall for me!"
"As thou wil=
t,
Baresark. Among so many there is room to pick and choose. Tell on, nurse!&q=
uot;
Then she told how
Swanhild came out to Iceland, and, having won Ospakar Blacktooth and Gizur =
to
her side, had laid a suit against Eric at the Thing, and there bore false
witness against him, so that Brighteyes was declared outlaw, being absent. =
She
told, too, how Gudruda had betrothed herself to Ospakar, and how Swanhild h=
ad
moved down to Coldback and seized the lands. Lastly she told of the rising =
of
Saevuna from her deathbed, of her going to Middalhof, of the words she spok=
e to
Björn and Ospakar, and of her death in the hall at Middalhof.
When all was told,
Eric stooped and kissed the cold brow of his mother.
"There is li=
ttle
time to bury thee now, my mother," he said, "and perchance before=
six
hours are sped there will be one to bury at thy side. Nevertheless, thou sh=
alt
sit in a better place than this."
Then he cut loose= the cords that bound the body of Saevuna to the chair, and, lifting it in his a= rms, bore it to the hall. There he set the corpse in the high seat of the hall.<= o:p>
"We need not
start yet a while, Skallagrim," said Eric, "if indeed thou woulds=
t go
a-guesting with me to Middalhof. Therefore let us eat and drink, for there =
are
deeds to do this day."
So they found meat
and mead and ate and drank. Then Eric washed himself, combed out his golden
locks, and looked well to his harness and to Whitefire's edge. Skallagrim a=
lso
ground his great axe upon the whetstone in the yard, singing as he ground. =
When
all was ready, the horses were caught, and Eric spoke to the carline:
"Hearken, nu=
rse.
If it may be that thou canst find any of our folk--and perchance now that t=
hey
see that Swanhild has ridden to Middalhof some one of them will come down to
spy--thou shalt say this to them. Thou shalt say that, if Eric Brighteyes y=
et
lives, he will be at the foot of Mosfell to-morrow before midday, and if, f=
or
the sake of old days and fellowship, they are minded to befriend a friendle=
ss
man, let them come thither with food, for by then food will be needed, and I
will speak with them. And now farewell," and Eric kissed her and went,
leaving her weeping.
As it chanced, be=
fore
another hour was sped, Jon, Eric's thrall, who had stayed at home in Icelan=
d,
seeing Coldback empty, crept down from the fells and looked in. The carline=
saw
him, and told him these tidings. Then he went thence to find the other men.
Having found them he told them Eric's words, and a great gladness came upon
them when they learned that Brighteyes still lived, and was in Iceland. Then
they gathered food and gear, and rode away to the foot of Mosfell that is n=
ow
called Ericsfell.
Ospakar sat in the
hall at Middalhof, near to the high seat. He was fully armed, and a black h=
elm with
a raven's crest was on his head. For, though he said nothing of it, not a
little did he fear that Saevuna spoke sooth--that her words would come true,
and, before this day was done, he and Eric should once more stand face to f=
ace.
At his side sat Gudruda the Fair, robed in white, a worked head-dress on her
head, golden clasps upon her breast and golden rings about her arms. Never =
had she
been more beautiful to see; but her face was whiter than her robes. She loo=
ked
with loathing on Blacktooth at her side, rough like a bear, and hideous as a
troll. But he looked on her with longing, and laughed from side to side of =
his
great mouth when he thought that at last he had got her for his own.
"Ah, if Eric
would but come, faithless though he be!--if Eric would but come!" thou=
ght
Gudruda; but no Eric came to save her. The guests gathered fast, and presen=
tly
Swanhild swept in with all her company, wrapped about in her purple cloak. =
She
came up to the high seat where Gudruda sat, and bent the knee before her, l=
ooking
on her with lovely mocking face and hate in her blue eyes.
"Greeting,
Gudruda, my sister!" she said. "When last we met I sat, Atli's br=
ide,
where to-day thou sittest the bride of Ospakar. Then Eric Brighteyes held t=
hy
hand, and little thou didst think of wedding Ospakar. Now Eric is afar--so
strangely do things come about--and Blacktooth, Brighteyes' foe, holds that
fair hand of thine."
Gudruda looked on=
her
and turned whiter yet in her pain, but she answered never a word.
"What! no wo=
rd
for me, sister?" said Swanhild. "And yet it is through me that th=
ou
comest to this glad hour. It is through me that thou art rid of Eric, and i=
t is
I who have given thee to the arms of mighty Ospakar. No word of thanks for =
so
great a service!--fie on thee, Gudruda! fie!"
Then Gudruda spok=
e:
"Strange tales are told of thee and Eric, Groa's daughter! I have done
with Eric, but I have done with thee also. Thou hast thrust thyself here
against my will and, if I may, I would see thy face no more."
"Wouldst thou
see Eric's face, Gudruda?--say, wouldst see Eric's face? I tell thee it is
fair!"
But Gudruda answe=
red
nothing, and Swanhild fell back, laughing.
Now the feast beg=
an,
and men waxed merry. But ever Gudruda's heart grew heavier, for in it echoed
those words that Saevuna had spoken. Her eyes were dim, and she seemed to s=
ee
naught but the face of Eric as it had looked when he came back to her that =
day
on the brink of Goldfoss Falls and she had thought him dead. Oh! what if he
still loved her and were yet true at heart? Swanhild mocked her!--what if t=
his
was a plot of Swanhild's? Had not Swanhild plotted aforetime, and could a w=
olf
cease from ravening or a witch from witch-work? Nay, she had seen Eric's ha=
ir--that
he had sworn none save she should touch! Perchance he had been drugged, and=
the
hair shorn from him in his sleep? Too late to think! Of what use was
thought?--beside her sat Ospakar, in one short hour she would be his. Ah! t=
hat
she could see him dead--the troll who had trafficked her to shame, the foe =
she
had summoned in her wrath and jealousy! She had done ill--she had fallen in=
to
Swanhild's snare, and now Swanhild came to mock her!
The feast went
on--cup followed cup. Now they poured the bride-cup! Before her heart beat =
two
hundred times she would be the wife of Ospakar!
Blacktooth took t=
he
cup--pledged her in it, and drank deep. Then he turned and strove to kiss h=
er.
But Gudruda shrank from him with horror in her eyes, and all men wondered.
Still she must drink the bridal cup. She took it. Dimly she saw the upturned
faces, faintly she heard the murmur of a hundred voices.
What was that voi=
ce
she caught above them all--there--without the hall?
Holding the cup in
her hand, Gudruda bent forward, staring down the skali. Then she cried alou=
d,
pointing to the door, and the cup fell clattering from her hand and rolled
along the ground.
Men turned and
looked. They saw this: there on the threshold stood a man, glorious to look=
at,
and from his winged helm of gold the rays of light flashed through the dusky
hall. The man was great and beautiful to see. He had long yellow hair bound=
in
about his girdle, and in his left hand he held a pointed shield, in his rig=
ht a
spear, and at his thigh there hung a mighty sword. Nor was he alone, for by=
his
side, a broad axe on his shoulder and shield in hand, stood another man, cl=
ad
in black-hued mail--a man well-nigh as broad and big, with hawk's eyes, eag=
le
beak, and black hair streaked with grey.
For a moment there
was silence. Then a voice spoke:
"Lo! here be=
the
Gods Baldur and Thor!--come from Valhalla to grace the marriage-feast!"=
;
Then the man with
golden hair cried aloud in a voice that made the rafters ring:
"Here are Er=
ic
Brighteyes and Skallagrim Lambstail, his thrall, come from over sea to grace
the feast, indeed!"
"I could have
looked for no worse guests," said Björn, beneath his breath, and rose =
to
bid men thrust them out. But before he could speak, lo! gold-helmed Eric and
black-helmed Skallagrim were stalking up the length of that great hall. Sid=
e by
side they stalked, with faces fierce and cold; nor stayed they till they st=
ood
before the high seat. Eric looked up and round, and the light of his eyes w=
as
as the light of a sword. Men marvelled at his greatness and his wonderful
beauty, and to Gudruda he seemed like a God.
"Here I see
faces that are known to me," said Eric. "Greetings, comrades!&quo=
t;
"Greetings,
Brighteyes!" shouted the Middalhof folk and the company of Swanhild; b=
ut
the carles of Ospakar laid hand on sword--they too knew Eric. For still all=
men
loved Eric, and the people of his quarter were proud of the deeds he had do=
ne
oversea.
"Greeting,
Björn, Asmund's son!" quoth Eric. "Greeting, Ospakar Blacktooth!
Greeting, Swanhild the Fatherless, Atli's witch-wife--Groa's witch-bairn!
Greeting, Hall of Lithdale, Hall the liar--Hall who cut the grapnel-chain! =
And
to thee, sweet Bride, to thee Gudruda the Fair, greeting!"
Now Björn spoke:
"I will take no greeting from a shamed and outlawed man. Get thee gone,
Eric Brighteyes, and take thy wolf-hound with thee, lest thou bidest here s=
tiff
and cold."
"Speak not so
loud, rat, lest hound's fang worry thee!" growled Skallagrim.
But Eric laughed
aloud and cried--
"Words must =
be
said, and perchance men shall die, ere ever I leave this hall, Björn!"=
=
XXIV - HOW THE FEAST WENT=
"Hearken all
men!" said Eric.
"Thrust him
out!" quoth Björn.
"Nay, cut him
down!" said Ospakar, "he is an outlawed man."
"Words first,
then deeds," answered Skallagrim. "Thou shalt have thy fill of bo=
th,
Blacktooth, before day is done."
"Let Eric say
his say," said Gudruda, lifting her head. "He has been doomed
unheard, and it is my will that he shall say his say."
"What hast t=
hou
to do with Eric?" snarled Ospakar.
"The bride-c=
up
is not yet drunk, lord," she answered.
"To thee, th=
en,
I will speak, lady," quoth Eric. "How comes it that, being betrot=
hed
to me, thou dost sit there the bride of Ospakar?"
"Ask of
Swanhild," said Gudruda in a low voice. "Ask also of Hall of Lith=
dale
yonder, who brought me Swanhild's gift from Straumey."
"I must ask =
much
of Hall and he must answer much," said Eric. "What tale, then, di=
d he
bring thee from Straumey?"
"He said thi=
s,
Eric," Gudruda answered: "that thou wast Swanhild's love; that for
Swanhild's sake thou hadst basely killed Atli the Good, and that thou wast
about to wed Swanhild's self and take the Earl's seat in Orkneys."
"And for what
cause was I made outlaw at the Althing?"
"For this ca=
use,
Eric," said Björn, "that thou hadst dealt evilly with Swanhild,
bringing her to shame against her will, and thereafter that thou hadst slain
the Earl, her husband."
"Which, then=
, of
these tales is true? for both cannot be true," said Brighteyes.
"Speak, Swanhild."
"Thou knowest
well that the last is true," said Swanhild boldly.
"How then co=
mes
it that thou didst charge Hall with that message to Gudruda? How then comes=
it
that thou didst send her the lock of hair which thou didst cozen me to give
thee?"
"I charged H=
all
with no message, and I sent no lock of hair," Swanhild answered.
"Stand thou
forward, Hall!" said Eric, "and liar and coward though thou art, =
dare
not to speak other than the truth! Nay, look not at the door: for, if thou
stirrest, this spear shall find thee before thou hast gone a pace!"
Now Hall stood
forward, trembling with fear, for he saw the eye of Skallagrim watching him
close, and while Lambstail watched, his fingers toyed with the handle of his
axe.
"It is true,
lord, that Swanhild charged me with that message which I gave to the Lady
Gudruda. Also she bade me give the lock of hair."
"And for this
service thou didst take money, Hall?"
"Ay, lord, s=
he
gave me money for my faring."
"And all the
while thou knewest the tidings false?"
Hall made no repl=
y.
"Answer!&quo=
t;
thundered Eric--"answer the truth, knave, or by every God that passes =
the
hundred gates I will not spare thee twice!"
"It is so,
lord," said Hall.
"Thou liest,
fox!" cried Swanhild, white with wrath and casting a fierce look upon
Hall. But men took no heed of Swanhild's words, for all eyes were bent on E=
ric.
"Is it now y=
our pleasure,
comrades, that I should tell you the truth?" said Brighteyes.
The most part of =
the
company shouted "Yea!" but the men of Ospakar stood silent.
"Speak on,
Eric," quoth Gudruda.
"This is the
truth, then: Swanhild the Fatherless, Atli's wife, has always sought my lov=
e,
and she has ever hated Gudruda whom I loved. From a child she has striven to
work mischief between us. Ay, and she did this, though till now it has been
hidden: she strove to murder Gudruda; it was on the day that Skallagrim and=
I overcame
Ospakar and his band on Horse-Head Heights. She thrust Gudruda from the bri=
nk
of Golden Falls while she sat looking on the waters, and as she hung there I
dragged her back. Is it not so, Gudruda?"
"It is so,&q=
uot;
said Gudruda.
Now men murmured =
and
looked at Swanhild. But she shrank back, plucking at her purple cloak.
"It was for =
this
cause," said Eric, "that Asmund, Swanhild's father, gave her choi=
ce
to wed Atli the Earl and pass over sea or to take her trial in the Doom-Rin=
g.
She wedded Atli and went away. Afterwards, by witchcraft, she brought my sh=
ip
to wreck on Straumey's Isle--ay, she walked the waters like a shape of light
and lured us on to ruin, so that all were drowned except Skallagrim and mys=
elf.
Is it not so, Skallagrim?"
"It is so, l=
ord.
I saw her with my eyes."
Again folk murmur=
ed.
"Then we must
sit in Atli's hall," said Eric, "and there we dwelt last winter. =
For
a while Swanhild did no harm, till I feared her no more. But some three mon=
ths
ago, I was left with her: and a man called Koll, Groa's thrall, of whom ye
know, came out from Iceland, bringing news of the death of Asmund the pries=
t,
of Unna my cousin, and of Groa the witch. To these ill-tidings Swanhild bri=
bed
him to add something. She bribed him to add this: that thou, Gudruda, wast
betrothed to Ospakar, and wouldst wed him on last Yule Day. Moreover, he ga=
ve
me a certain message from thee, Gudruda, and, in token of its truth, the ha=
lf
of that coin which I broke with thee long years ago. Say now, lady, didst t=
hou send
the coin?"
"Nay,
never!" cried Gudruda; "many years ago I lost the half thou gaves=
t me,
though I feared to tell thee."
"Perchance o=
ne
stands there who found it," said Eric, pointing with his spear at
Swanhild. "At the least I was deceived by it. Now the tale is short.
Swanhild mourned with me, and in my sorrow I mourned bitterly. Then it was =
she
asked a boon, that lock of mine, Gudruda, and, thinking thee faithless, I g=
ave
it, holding all oaths broken. Then too, when I would have left her, she dru=
gged
me with a witch-draught--ay, she drugged me, and I woke to find myself fals=
e to
my oath, false to Atli, and false to thee, Gudruda. I cursed her and I left
her, waiting for the Earl, to tell him all. But Swanhild outwitted me. She =
told
him that other tale of shame that ye have heard, and brought Koll to him as=
witness
of the tale. Atli was deceived by her, and not until I had cut him down in
anger at the bitter words he spoke, calling me coward and niddering, did he
know the truth. But before he died he knew it; and he died, holding my hand=
and
bidding those about him find Koll and slay him. Is it not so, ye who were
Atli's men?"
"It is so,
Eric!" they cried; "we heard it with our own ears, and we slew Ko=
ll.
But afterwards Swanhild brought is to believe that Earl Atli was distraught
when he spoke thus, and that things were indeed as she had said."
Again men murmure=
d,
and a strange light shone in Gudruda's eyes.
"Now, Gudrud=
a,
thou hast heard all my story," said Eric. "Say, dost thou believe
me?"
"I believe t=
hee,
Eric."
"Say then, w=
ilt
thou still wed yon Ospakar?"
Gudruda looked on
Blacktooth, then she looked at golden Eric and opened her lips to speak. But
before a word could pass them Ospakar rose in wrath, laying his hand upon h=
is
sword.
"Thinkest th=
ou
thus to lure away my dove, outlaw? First I will see thee food for crows.&qu=
ot;
"Well spoken,
Blacktooth," laughed Eric. "I waited for such words from thee. Th=
rice
have we striven together--once out yonder in the snow, once on Horse-Head
Heights, and once by Westman Isles--and still we live to tell the tale. Come
down, Ospakar: come down from that soft seat of thine and here and now let =
us
put it to the proof who is the better man. When we met before, the stake was
Whitefire set against my eye. Now the stake is our lives and fair Gudruda's
hand. Talk no more, Ospakar, but fall to it."
"Gudruda sha=
ll
never wed thee, while I live!" said Björn; "thou art a landless l=
oon,
a brawler, and an outlaw. Get thee gone, Eric, with thy wolf-hound!"
"Squeak not =
so
loud, rat--squeak not so loud, lest hound's fang worry thee!" said
Skallagrim.
"Whether I w=
ed
Gudruda or whether I wed her not is a matter that shall be known in its
season," said Eric. "For thy words, I say this: that it is risky =
to
hurl names at such as I am, Björn, lest perchance I answer them with
spear-thrusts. Thy answer, Ospakar! What need to wait? Thy answer!"
Now Ospakar looke=
d at
Brighteyes and grew afraid. He was a mighty man, but he knew the weight of
Eric's arm.
"I will not
fight with thee, carle," he said, "who hast naught to lose."=
"Then thou a=
rt
coward and niddering!" said Eric. "Ospakar Niddering I name thee here before all men! What! t=
hou
couldst plot against me--thou couldst waylay me, ten to one and two ships to
one, but face to face with me alone thou dost not dare to stand? Comrades, =
look
on your lord!--look at Ospakar the Niddering!
"
Now the swarthy b=
row
of Blacktooth grew red with rage, and his breath came in great gasps. "=
;Ho,
men!" he cried, "drive this knave away. Strip his harness off him=
and
whip him hence with rods."
"Let but a m=
an
stir towards me and this spear flies through thy heart, Niddering," cr=
ied
Eric. "Gudruda, what thinkest thou of thy lord?"
"I know
this," said Gudruda, "that I will not wed a man who is named 'Nid=
dering'
in the face of all and lifts no sword."
Gudruda spoke thu=
s,
because she was mad with love and fear and shame, and she desired that Eric
should stand face to face with Ospakar Blacktooth, for thus, alone, she mig=
ht
perhaps be rid of Ospakar.
"Such words =
do
not come well from gentle lips," said Björn.
"Is it to be
borne, brother," answered Gudruda, "that the man who would call me
wife should be named Ospakar the Niddering? When that shame is washed away,=
and
then only, can I think on marriage. I will never be Niddering's bride!"=
;
"Thou heares=
t,
Ospakar Niddering?" said Eric. Then he gave the spear in his hand to
Skallagrim, and, gripping Whitefire's hilt, he burst the peace-strings, and
tore it from the scabbard.
Now the great swo=
rd
shone on high like lightning leaping from a cloud, and as it shone men shou=
ted,
" Ospakar! Ospakar Niddering! Come,
win back Whitefire from Eric's hand, or be for ever shamed!"
Blacktooth could
endure this no more. He snatched sword and shield, and, like a bear from a
cave, like a wolf from his lair, rushed roaring from his seat. On he came, =
and
the ground shook beneath his bulk.
"At last,
Niddering!" cried Eric, and sprang to meet him.
"Back! all m=
en,
back!" shouted Skallagrim, "now we shall see blows."
As he spoke the g=
reat
swords flashed aloft and clanged upon the iron shields. So heavy were the b=
lows
that fire leapt out from them. Ospakar reeled back beneath the shock, and E=
ric
was beaten to his knee. Now he was up, but as he rushed, Ospakar struck aga=
in
and swept away half of Brighteyen's pointed shield so that it fell upon the
floor. Eric smote also, but Ospakar dropped his knee to earth and the sword
hissed over him. Blacktooth cut at Eric's legs; but Brighteyes sprang from =
the ground
and took no harm.
Now some cried,
" Eric! Eric! " and some cried " Ospakar! Ospakar! " fo=
r no
one knew how the fight would go.
Gudruda sat watch=
ing
in the high seat, and as blows fell her colour came and went.
Swanhild drew nea=
r,
watching also, and she desired in her fierce heart to see Eric brought to s=
hame
and death, for, should he win, then Gudruda would be rid of Ospakar. Now by=
her
side stood Gizur, Ospakar's son, and near to her was Björn. These two held
their breath, for, if Eric conquered, all their plans were brought to nothi=
ng.
Even as he sprang
into the air, Eric smote down with all his strength. The blow fell on Ospak=
ar's
shield. It shore through the shield and struck on the shoulder beneath. But
Blacktooth's byrnie was good, nor did the sword bite into it. Still the str=
oke
was so heavy that Ospakar staggered back four paces beneath it, then fell u=
pon
the ground.
Now folk raised a
shout of " Eric! Eric! " for it seemed that Ospakar was sped.
Brighteyes, too, cried aloud, then rushed forward. Now, as he came, Swanhild
whispered an eager word into the ear of Björn. By Björn's foot lay that hal=
f of
Eric's shield which had been shorn away by the sword of Ospakar. Gudruda,
watching, saw Björn push it with his shoe so that it slid before the feet of
Brighteyes. His right foot caught on it, he stumbled heavily--stumbled agai=
n,
then fell prone on his face, and, as he fell, stretched out his sword hand =
to
save himself, so that Whitefire flew from his grasp. The blade struck its h=
ilt
against the ground, then circled in the air and fixed itself, point downwar=
ds,
in the clay of the flooring. The hand of Ospakar rising from the ground smo=
te
against the hilt of Whitefire. He saw it, with a shout he cast his own sword
away and clasped Whitefire.
Away circled the
sword of Ospakar; and of that cast this strange thing is told, false or tru=
e.
Far in the corner of the hall lurked Thorunna, she who had betrayed Skallag=
rim
when he was named Ounound. She had come with a heavy heart to Middalhof in =
the
company of Ospakar; but when she saw Skallagrim, her husband--whom she had
betrayed, and who had turned Baresark because of her wickedness--shame smote
her, and she crept away and hid herself behind the hangings of the hall. The
sword sped along point first, it rushed like a spear through the air. It fe=
ll
on the hangings, piercing them, piercing the heart of Thorunna, who cowered=
behind
them, so that with one cry she sank dead to earth, slain by her lover's han=
d.
Now when men saw =
that
Ospakar once more held Whitefire in his hand--Whitefire that Brighteyes had=
won
from him--they called aloud that it was an omen. The sword of Blacktooth had
come back to Blacktooth and now Eric would surely be slain of it!
Eric sprang from =
the
ground. He heard the shouts and saw Whitefire blazing in Ospakar's hand.
"Now thou art
weaponless, fly! Brighteyes; fly!" cried some.
Gudruda's cheek g=
rew
white with fear, and for a moment Eric's heart failed him.
"Fly not!&qu=
ot;
roared Skallagrim. "Björn tripped thee. Yet hast thou half a shield!&q=
uot;
Ospakar rushed on,
and Whitefire flickered over Eric's helm. Down it came and shore one wing f=
rom
the helm. Again it shone and fell, but Brighteyes caught the blow on his br=
oken
shield.
Then, while men
waited to see him slain, Eric gave a great war-shout and sprang forward.
"Thou art
mad!" shouted the folk.
"Ye shall se=
e!
Ye shall see!" screamed Skallagrim.
Again Ospakar smo=
te
and again Eric caught the blow; and behold! he struck back, thrusting with =
the
point of the shorn shield straight at the face of Ospakar.
" Peck! Eagl=
e;
peck! " cried Skallagrim.
Once more Whitefi=
re
shone above him. Eric rushed in beneath the sword, and with all his mighty
strength thrust the buckler-point at Blacktooth's face. It struck fair and
full, and lo! the helm of Ospakar burst asunder. He threw wide his giant ar=
ms,
then fell as a pine falls upon the mountain edge. He fell back, and he lay
still.
But Eric, stooping
over him, took Whitefire from his hand.
=
XXV - HOW THE FEAST ENDED=
For a moment there
was silence in the hall, for men had known no such fight as this.
"Why, then, =
do
ye gape?" laughed Skallagrim, pointing with the spear. "Dead is
Ospakar!--slain by the swordless man! Eric Brighteyes hath slain Ospakar
Blacktooth!"
Then there went up
such a shout as never was heard in the hall of Middalhof.
Now when Gudruda =
knew
that Ospakar was sped, she looked at Eric as he rested, leaning on his swor=
d,
and her heart was filled with awe and love. She sprang from her seat, and,
coming to where Brighteyes stood, she greeted him.
"Welcome to
Iceland, Eric!" she said. "Welcome, thou glory of the south!"=
;
Now Swanhild grew
wild, for she saw that Eric was about to take Gudruda in his arms and kiss =
her
before all men.
"Say,
Björn," she cried; "wilt thou suffer that this outlaw, having sla=
in
Ospakar, should lead Gudruda hence as wife?"
"He shall ne=
ver
do so while I live," cried Björn, nearly mad with rage. "This is =
my
command, sister: that thou dost see Eric no more."
"Say,
Björn," answered Gudruda, "did I dream, or did I indeed see thee =
thrust
the broken buckler before Eric's feet, so that he stumbled on it and
fell?"
"That thou
sawest, lady," said Skallagrim; "for I saw it also."
Now Björn grew wh=
ite
in his anger. He did not answer Gudruda, but called aloud to his men to slay
Eric and Skallagrim. Gizur called also to the folk of Ospakar, and Swanhild=
to
those who came with her.
Then Gudruda fled
back to her seat.
But Eric cried al=
oud
also: "Ye who love me, cleave to me. Suffer it not that Brighteyes be =
cut
down of northerners and outland men. Hear me, Atli's folk; hear me, carles =
of
Coldback and of Middalhof!"
And so greatly did
many love Eric that half of the thralls of Björn, and almost all of the com=
pany
of Swanhild who had been Atli's shield-men and Brighteyes' comrades, drew
swords, shouting "Eric! Eric!" But the carles of Ospakar came on =
to
make an end of him.
Björn saw, and,
drawing sword, smote at Brighteyes, taking him unawares. But Skallagrim cau=
ght
the blow upon his axe, and before Björn could smite again Whitefire was alo=
ft
and down fell Björn, dead!
That was the end =
of
Björn, Asmund's son.
"Thou hast
squeaked thy last, rat! What did I tell thee?" cried Skallagrim.
"Take Björn's shield and back to back, lord, for here come foes."=
"There goes
one," answered Eric, pointing to the door.
Now Hall of Lithd=
ale
slunk through the doorway--Hall, the liar, who cut the grapnel-chain--for he
wished to see the last of Skallagrim. But the Baresark still held Eric's sp=
ear
in his hand. He whirled it aloft, and it hissed through the air. The aim was
good, for, as he crept away, the spear struck Hall between neck and shoulde=
r,
pinning him to the doorpost, and there the liar died.
"Now the wea=
sel
is nailed to the beam," said Skallagrim. "Hall of Lithdale, what =
did
I promise thee?"
"Guard thy h=
ead
and my back," quoth Eric; "blows fall!"
Now men smote at =
Eric
and Skallagrim, nor did they spare to smite in turn. And as foes fell before
him, Eric stepped one pace forward towards the door, and Skallagrim, who, b=
ack
to back with him, held off those who pressed behind, took one step rearward=
s.
Thus, a foe for every step, they won their way down the long hall. Fierce r=
aged
the fray around them, for, made with hate and drink and the lust of fight,
Swanhild's folk--Eric's friends--remembering the words of Atli, fell on
Ospakar's; and the people of Björn fell on each other, brother on brother, =
and father
on son--nor might the fray be stayed. The boards were overthrown, dead men =
lay
among the meats and mead, and the blood of freeman, lord and thrall ran ado=
wn
the floor. Everywhere through the dusky hall glittered the sheen of flashing
swords and rose the clang of war. Darts clove the air like tongues of flame,
and the clamour of battle beat against the roof.
Blinded of the No=
rns
who brought these things to pass, men sought no mercy and they gave none, b=
ut
smote and slew till few were left to slay.
And still Gudruda=
sat
in her bride-seat, and, with eyes fixed in horror, watched the waxing of the
war. Near to her stood Swanhild, marking all things with a fierce-set face,=
and
calling down curses on her folk, who one and all cried "Eric! Eric!&qu=
ot;
and swept the thralls of Ospakar as corn is swept of the sickle.
And there, nigh to
the door, pale of face and beautiful to see, golden Eric clove his way, and
with him went black Skallagrim. Terrible was the flare of Whitefire as he
flicked aloft like the levin in the cloud. Terrible was the flare of Whitef=
ire;
but more terrible was the light of Eric's eyes, for they seemed to flame in=
his
head, and wherever that fire fell it lighted men the way to death. Whitefire
sung and flickered, and crashed the axe of Skallagrim, and still through the
press of war they won their way. Now Gizur stands before them, spear aloft,=
and
Whitefire leaps up to meet him. Lo! he turns and flies. The coward son of
Ospakar does not seek the fate of Ospakar!
The door is won. =
They
stand without but little harmed, while women wail aloud.
"To horse!&q=
uot;
cried Skallagrim; "to horse, ere our luck fail us!"
"There is no
luck in this," gasped Eric; "for I have slain many men, and among=
them
is Björn, the brother of her whom I would make my bride."
"Better one =
such
fight than many brides," said Skallagrim, shaking his red axe. "We
have won great glory this day, Brighteyes, and Ospakar is dead--slain by a
swordless man!"
Now Eric and Skal=
lagrim
ran to their horses, none hindering them, and, mounting, rode towards Mosfe=
ll.
All that evening =
and
all the night they rode, and at morning they came across the black sand to
Mosfell slopes that are by the Hecla. Here they rested, and, taking off the=
ir
armour, washed themselves in the stream: for they were very weary and foul =
with
blood and wounds. When they had finished washing and had buckled on their
harness again, Skallagrim, peering across the plain with his hawk's eyes, s=
aw
men riding fast towards them.
"Foes are so=
on
afoot, lord," he said. "I thought we had stayed their hunger for a
while."
"Would that I
might stay mine," quoth Eric. "I am weary, and unfit for fight.&q=
uot;
"I have still
strength for one or two," said Skallagrim, "and then good-night! =
But
these are no foes. They are of the Coldback folk. The carline has kept her
word."
Then Eric was gla=
d,
and presently six men, headed by Jon his thrall, the same man who had watch=
ed
on Mosfell when Eric went up to slay the Baresark, rode to them and greeted
them. "Beggar women," said Jon, "whom they met at Ran River,=
had
told them of the death of Ospakar, and of the great slaying at Middalhof, a=
nd
they would know if the tidings were true."
"It is true,
Jon," said Eric; "but first give us food, if ye have it, for we a=
re
hungered and spent. When we have eaten we will speak."
So they led up a
pack-horse and from it took stockfish and smoked meat, of which Eric and
Skallagrim ate heartily, till their strength came back to them.
Then Eric spoke.
"Comrades," he said, "I am an outlawed man, and, though I ha=
ve
not sought it, much blood is on my head. Atli is dead at my hand; Ospakar is
dead at my hand; Björn the Priest, Asmund's son, is dead at my hand, and wi=
th
them many another man. Nor may the matter stay here, for Gizur, Blacktooth's
son, yet lives, and Björn has kin in the south, and Swanhild will buy frien=
ds
with gold, and all of these will set on me to slay me, so that at the last I
die by the sword."
"No need for
that," said Skallagrim. "Our vengeance is wrought, and now, as
before, the sea is open, and I think that a welcome awaits us in London.&qu=
ot;
"Now Gudruda=
is
widowed before she was fully wed," said Eric, "therefore I bide an
outlawed man here in Iceland. I go hence no more, though it be death to sta=
y,
unless indeed Gudruda the Fair goes with me."
"It will be
death, then," said Skallagrim, "and the swords are forged that we
shall feel. The odds are too heavy, lord."
"Mayhap,&quo=
t;
answered Eric. "No man may flee his fate, and I shall not altogether
grieve when mine finds me. Hearken, comrades: I go up to Mosfell height, and
there I stay, till those be found who can drag me from my hole. But this is=
my
counsel to you: that ye leave me to my doom, for I am an unlucky man who al=
ways
chooses the wrong road."
"That will n=
ot
I," said Skallagrim.
"Nor we,&quo=
t;
said Eric's folk; "Swanhild holds Coldback, and we are driven to the
fells. To the fells then we will go with thee, Eric Brighteyes, and become
cave-dwellers and outlaws for thy sake. Fear not, thou shalt still find many
friends."
"I did not l=
ook
for such a thing at your hands," said Eric; "but stormy waters sh=
ow
how the boat is built. May no bad luck come to you from your good fellowshi=
p.
And now let us to our nest."
Then they caught =
the
horses, and rode with Brighteyes up the steep side of Mosfell, till at leng=
th
they came to that secret dell which Skallagrim had once shown to Eric. Here
they turned the horses loose to feed, and, going forward on foot, reached t=
he
dark and narrow pass that Brighteyes had trod when he sought for the Baresa=
rk
foe. Skallagrim led the way along it, then came Eric and the rest. One by o=
ne
they stepped on to the giddy point of rock, and, catching at the birch-bush,
entered the hole. So they gained the platform and the great cave beyond; an=
d they
found that no man had set foot there since the day when Eric had striven wi=
th
Skallagrim. For there on the rock, rotten with the weather, lay that haft of
wood which Brighteyes had hewed from the axe of Skallagrim, and in the cave=
were
many things beside as the Baresark had left them.
So they took up t=
heir
dwelling in the cave, Eric, Skallagrim, and the six Coldback men, and there
they dwelt many months. But Eric sent out his men, one at a time, and got
together food and a store of sheepskins, and other needful things. For he k=
new
this well: that Gizur and Swanhild would before long come up against them, =
and,
if they could not take them by force, would set themselves to watch the
mountain-path and starve them out.
When Eric and Ska=
llagrim
rode away from Middalhof the fight still raged fiercely in the hall, and
nothing but death might stay it. The minds of men were mad, and they smote =
one
another, and slew each other, till at length of all that marriage company f=
ew
were left unharmed, except Gizur, Swanhild, and Gudruda. For the serving
thralls and womenfolk had fled the hall, and with them some peaceful men.
Then Gudruda spok=
e as
one in a dream.
"Saevuna's
prophecy was true," she said, "red was the marriage-feast of Asmu=
nd
my father, redder has been the marriage-feast of Ospakar! She saw the hall =
of
Middalhof one gore of blood, and lo! it is so; look upon thy work,
Swanhild," and she pointed to the piled-up dead--"look upon thy w=
ork,
witch-sister, and grow fearful: for all this death is on thy head!"
Swanhild laughed
aloud. "I think it a merry sight," she cried. "The marriage-=
feast
of Asmund our father was red, and thy marriage-feast, Gudruda, has been red=
der.
Would that thy blood and the blood of Eric ran with the blood of Björn and =
Ospakar!
That tale must yet be told, Gudruda. There shall be binding on of Hell-shoe=
s at
Middalhof, but I bind them not. My task is still to come: for I will live to
fasten the Hell-shoes on the feet of Eric, and on thy feet, Gudruda! At the
least, I have brought about this much, that thou canst scarcely wed Eric th=
e outlaw:
for with his own hand he slew Björn our brother, and because of this I count
all that death as nothing. Thou canst not mate with Brighteyes, lest the wi=
de
wounds of Björn thy brother should take tongues and cry thy shame from sea =
to
sea!"
Gudruda made no
answer, but sat as one carved in stone. Then Swanhild spoke again:
"Let us away=
to
the north, Gizur; there to gather strength to make an end of Eric. Say, wilt
thou help us, Gudruda? The blood-feud for the death of Björn is thine."=
;
"Ye are enou=
gh
to bring about the fall of one unfriended man," Gudruda said. "Go,
and leave me with my sorrow and the dead. Nay! before thou goest, listen,
Swanhild, for there is that in my heart which tells me I shall never look a=
gain
upon thy face. From evil to evil thou hast ever gone, Swanhild, and from ev=
il
to evil thou wilt go. It may well chance that thy wickedness will win. It m=
ay
well chance that thou wilt crown thy crimes with my slaying and the slaying=
of
the man who loves me. But I tell thee this, traitress--murderess, as thou
art--that here the tale ends not. Not by death, Swanhild, shalt thou escape=
the
deeds of life! There they shall rise up against thee, and
"Go on, Swan=
hild--dye
those hands in blood--wade through the river of shame! Seek thy desire, and
finding, lose! Work thy evil, and winning, fail! I yet shall triumph--I yet
shall trample thee; and, in a place to come, with Eric at my side, I shall =
make
a mock of Swanhild the murderess! Swanhild the liar, and the wanton, and the
witch! Now get thee gone!"
Swanhild heard. S=
he
looked up at Gudruda's face and it was alight as with a fire. She strove to
answer, but no words came. Then Groa's daughter turned and went, and with h=
er
went Gizur.
Now women and thr=
alls
came in and drew out the wounded and those who still breathed from among the
dead, taking them to the temple. They bore away the body of Ospakar also, b=
ut
they left the rest.
All night long
Gudruda sat in the bride's seat. There she sat in the silver summer midnigh=
t,
looking on the slain who were strewn about the great hall. All night she sat
alone in the bride's seat thinking--ever thinking.
How, then, would =
it
end? There her brother Björn lay a-cold--Björn the justly slain of Brightey=
es;
yet how could she wed the man who slew her brother? From Ospakar she was
divorced by death; from Eric she was divorced by the blood of Björn her
brother! How might she unravel this tangled skein and float to weal upon th=
is
sea of death? All things went amiss! The doom was on her! She had lived to =
an
ill purpose--her love had wrought evil! What availed it to have been born t=
o be
fair among women and to have desired that which might not be? And she herse=
lf
had brought these things to pass--she had loosed the rock which crushed her=
! Why
had she hearkened to that false tale?
Gudruda sat on hi=
gh
in the bride's seat, asking wisdom of the piled-up dead, while the cold blue
shadows of the nightless night gathered over her and them--gathered, and wa=
ned,
and grew at last to the glare of day.
=
XXVI - HOW ERIC VENTURED =
DOWN
TO MIDDALHOF AND WHAT HE FOUND
Gizur went north =
to
Swinefell, and Swanhild went with him. For now that Ospakar was dead at Eri=
c's
hand, Gizur ruled in his place at Swinefell, and was the greatest lord in a=
ll
the north. He loved Swanhild, and desired to make her his wife; but she pla=
yed
with him, talking darkly of what might be. Swanhild was not minded to be the
wife of any man, except of Eric; to all others she was cold as the winter
earth. Still, she fooled Gizur as she had fooled Atli the Good, and he grew
blind with love of her. For still the beauty of Swanhild waxed as the moon
waxes in the sky, and her wicked eyes shone as the stars shine when the moon
has set.
Now they came to
Swinefell, and there Gizur buried Ospakar Blacktooth, his father, with much
state. He set him in a chamber of rock and timbers on a mountain-top, whenc=
e he
might see all the lands that once were his, and built up a great mound of e=
arth
above him. To this day people tell that here on Yule night black Ospakar bu=
rsts
out, and golden Eric rides down the blast to meet him. Then come the clang =
of
swords, and groans, and the sound of riven helms, till presently Brighteyes
passes southward on the wind, bearing in his hand the half of a cloven shie=
ld.
So Gizur bound the
Hell-shoes on his father, and swore that he would neither rest nor stay till
Eric Brighteyes was dead and dead was Skallagrim Lambstail. Then he gathere=
d a
great force of men and rode south to Coldback, to the slaying of Eric, and =
with
him went Swanhild.
Gudruda sat alone=
in
the haunted hall of Middalhof and brooded on her love and on her fate. Eric,
too, sat in Mosfell cave and brooded on his evil chance. His heart was sick
with sorrow, and there was little that he could do except think about the p=
ast.
He would not go to foray, after the fashion of outlaws, and there was no ne=
ed
of this. For the talk of his mighty deeds spread through the land, so that =
the
people spoke of little else. And the men of his quarter were so proud of th=
ese
deeds of Eric's that, though some of their kind had fallen at his hands in =
the great
fight of Middalhof and some at the hands of Skallagrim, yet they spoke of h=
im
as men speak of a God. Moreover they brought him gifts of food and clothing=
and
arms, as many as his people could carry away, and laid them in a booth that=
is
on the plain near the foot of Mosfell, which thenceforth was named Ericsfel=
l.
Further, they bade his thralls tell him that, if he wished it, they would f=
ind
him a good ship of war to take him from Iceland--ay, and man it with loyal =
men
and true.
Eric thanked them
through Jon his thrall, but answered that he wished to die here in Iceland.=
Now, when Eric had
sat two months and more in Mosfell cave and autumn was coming, he learned t=
hat
Gizur and Swanhild had moved down to Coldback, and with them a great compan=
y of
men who were sworn to slay him. He asked if Gudruda the Fair had also gathe=
red
men for his slaying. They told him no; that Gudruda stayed with her thralls=
and
women at Middalhof, mourning for Björn her brother. From these tidings Eric
took some heart of hope: at the least Gudruda laid no blood-feud against hi=
m. For
he waited, thinking, if indeed she yet loved him, that Gudruda would send h=
im
some word or token of her love. But no word came, since between them ran the
blood of Björn. On the morrow of these tidings Skallagrim spoke to Eric.
"This is my
counsel, lord," he said, "that we ride out by night and fall on t=
he
folk of Gizur at Coldback, and burn the stead over them, putting them to the
sword. I am weary of sitting here like an eagle in a cage."
"Such is no
counsel of mine, Skallagrim," answered Brighteyes. "I am weary of
sitting here, indeed; but I am yet more weary of bringing men to their deat=
h. I
will shed no more blood, unless it is to save my own head. When the people =
of
Gizur came to seek me on Mosfell, they shall find me here; but I will not g=
o to
them."
"Thy heart is
out of thee, lord," said Skallagrim; "thou wast not wont to speak
thus."
"Ay,
Skallagrim," said Eric, "the heart is out of me. Yet I ride from =
Mosfell
to-day."
"Whither,
lord?"
"To Middalho=
f,
to have speech with Gudruda the Fair."
"Like enough,
then, thou wilt be silent thereafter."
"It well may
be," said Eric. "Yet I will ride. I can bear this doubt no longer=
."
"Then I shall
come with thee," said Skallagrim.
"As thou
wilt," answered Eric.
So at midday Eric=
and
Skallagrim rode away from Mosfell in a storm of rain. The rain was so heavy
that those of Gizur's spies who watched the mountain did not see them. All =
that
day they rode and all the night, till by morning they came to Middalhof. Er=
ic
told Skallagrim to stay with the horses and let them feed, while he went on
foot to see if by chance he might get speech with Gudruda. This the Baresark
did, though he grumbled at the task, fearing lest Eric should be done to de=
ath,
and he not there to die with him.
Now Eric walked to
within two bowshots of the house, then sat down in a dell by the river, from
the edge of which he could see those who passed in and out. Presently his h=
eart
gave a leap, for there came out from the woman's door a lady tall and beaut=
iful
to see, and with golden hair that flowed about her breast. It was Gudruda, =
and
he saw that she bore a napkin in her hand. Then Eric knew, according to her
custom on the warm mornings, that she came alone to bathe in the river, as =
she
had always done from a child. It was her habit to bathe here in this place:=
for
at the bottom of the dell was a spot where reeds and bushes grew thick, and=
the
water lay in a basin of rock and was clear and still. For at this spot a hot
spring ran into the river.
Eric went down the
dell, hid himself close in the bushes and waited, for he feared to speak wi=
th
Gudruda in the open field. A while passed, and presently the shadow of the =
lady
crept over the edge of the dell, then she came herself in that beauty which
since her day has not been known in Iceland. Her face was sad and sweet, her
dark and lovely eyes were sad. On she came, till she stood within a spear's
length of where Eric lay, crouched in the bush, and looking at her through =
the
hedge of reeds. Here a flat rock overhung the water, and Gudruda sat hersel=
f on
this rock, and, shaking off her shoes, dipped her white feet in the water. =
Then
suddenly she threw aside her cloak, baring her arms, and, gazing upon the
shadow of her beauty in the mirror of the water, sighed and sighed again, w=
hile
Eric looked at her with a bursting heart, for as yet he could find no words=
to
say.
Now she spoke alo=
ud.
"Of what use to be so fair?" she said. "Oh, wherefore was I =
born
so fair to bring death to many and sorrow on myself and him I love?" A=
nd
she shook her golden hair about her arms of snow, and, holding the napkin to
her eyes, wept softly. But it seemed to Eric that between her sobs she call=
ed
upon his name.
Now Eric could no
longer bear the sight of Gudruda weeping. While she wept, hiding her eyes, =
he
rose from behind the screen of reeds and stood beside her in such fashion t=
hat
his shadow fell upon her. She felt the sunlight pass and looked up. Lo! it =
was
no cloud, but the shape of Eric, and the sun glittered on his golden helm a=
nd
hair.
"Eric!"
Gudruda cried; "Eric!" Then, remembering how she was attired, sna=
tching
her cloak, she threw it about her arms and thrust her wet feet into her sho=
es.
"Out upon thee!" she said; "is it not enough, then, that thou
shouldst break thy troth for Swanhild's sake, that thou shouldst slay my
brother and turn my hall to shambles? Wouldst now steal upon me thus!"=
"Methought t=
hat
thou didst weep and call upon my name, Gudruda," he said humbly.
"By what rig=
ht
art thou here to hearken to my words?" she answered. "Is it, then,
strange that I should speak the name of him who slew my brother? Is it stra=
nge that
I should weep over that brother whom thou didst slay? Get thee gone,
Brighteyes, before I call my folk to kill thee!"
"Call on,
Gudruda. I set little price upon my life. I laid it in the hands of chance =
when
I came from Mosfell to speak with thee, and now I will pay it down if so it
pleases thee. Fear not, thy thralls shall have an easy task: for I shall
scarcely care to hold my own. Say, shall I call for thee?"
"Hush! Speak=
not
so loud! Folk may hear thee, Eric, and then thou wilt be in danger--I would=
say
that, then shall ill things be told of me, because I am found with him who =
slew
my brother?"
"I slew Ospa=
kar
too, Gudruda. Surely the death of him by whose side thou didst sit as wife =
is
more to thee than the death of Björn?"
"The bride-c= up was not yet drunk, Eric; therefore I have no blood-feud for Ospakar."<= o:p>
"Is it, then,
thy will that I should go, lady?"
"Yes, go!--g=
o!
Never let me see thy face again!"
Brighteyes turned
without a word. He took three paces and Gudruda watched him as he went.
"Eric!"=
she
called. "Eric! thou mayest not go yet: for at this hour the thralls br=
ing
down the kine to milk, and they will see thee. Liest thou hid here. I--I wi=
ll
go. For though, indeed, thou dost deserve to die, I am not willing to bring
thee to thy end--because of old friendship I am not willing!"
"If thou goe=
st,
I will go also," said Eric. "Thralls or no thralls, I will go,
Gudruda."
"Thou art cr=
uel
to drive me to such a choice, and I have a mind to give thee to thy fate.&q=
uot;
"As thou
wilt," said Eric; but she made as though she did not hear his words.
"Now," =
she
said, "if we must stay here, it is better that we hide where thou didst
hide, lest some come upon thee." And she passed through the screen of
rushes and sat down in a grassy place beyond, and spoke again.
"Nay, sit not
near me; sit yonder. I would not touch thee, nor look upon thee, who wast
Swanhild's love, and didst slay Björn my brother."
"Say,
Gudruda," said Eric, "did I not tell thee of the magic arts of Sw=
anhild?
Did I not tell thee before all men yonder in the hall, and didst thou not s=
ay
that thou didst believe my words? Speak."
"That is
true," said Gudruda.
"Wherefore,
then, dost thou taunt me with being Swanhild's love--with being the love of=
her
whom of all alive I hate the most--and whose wicked guile has brought these
sorrows on us?"
But Gudruda did n=
ot
answer.
"And for this
matter of the death of Björn at my hands, think, Gudruda: was I to blame in=
it?
Did not Björn thrust the cloven shield before my feet, and thus give me into
the hand of Ospakar? Did he not afterwards smite at me from behind, and wou=
ld
he not have slain me if Skallagrim had not caught the blow? Was I, then, to
blame if I smote back and if the sword flew home? Wilt thou let the needful
deed rise up against our love? Speak, Gudruda!"
"Talk no mor=
e of
love to me, Eric," she answered; "the blood of Björn has blotted =
out
our love: it cries to me for vengeance. How may I speak of love with him who
slew my brother? Listen!" she went on, looking on him sidelong, as one=
who
wished to look and yet not seem to see: "here thou must hide an hour, =
and,
since thou wilt not sit in silence, speak no tender words to me, for it is =
not
fitting; but tell me of those deeds thou didst in the south lands over sea,
before thou wentest to woo Swanhild and camest hither to kill my brother. F=
or
till then thou wast mine--till then I loved thee--who now love thee not.
Therefore I would hear of the deeds of that Eric whom once I loved, before =
he
became as one dead to me."
"Heavy words,
lady," said Eric--"words to make death easy."
"Speak not
so," she said; "it is unmanly thus to work upon my fears. Tell me
those tidings of which I ask."
So Eric told her =
all
his deeds, though he showed small boastfulness about them. He told her how =
he
had smitten the war-dragons of Ospakar, how he had boarded the Raven and wi=
th
Skallagrim slain those who sailed in her. He told her also of his deeds in
Ireland, and of how he took the viking ships and came to London town.
And as he told,
Gudruda listened as one who hung upon her lover's dying words, and there was
but one light in the world for her, the light of Eric's eyes, and there was=
but
one music, the music of his voice. Now she looked upon him sidelong no long=
er,
but with open eyes and parted lips she drank in his words, and always, thou=
gh
she knew it not herself, she crept closer to his side.
Then he told her =
how
he had been greatly honoured of the King of England, and of the battles he =
had
fought in at his side. Lastly, Eric told her how the King would have given =
him
a certain great lady of royal blood in marriage, and how Edmund had been
angered because he would not stay in England.
"Tell me of =
this
lady," said Gudruda, quickly. "Is she fair, and how is she
named?"
"She is fair,
and her name is Elfrida," said Eric.
"And didst t=
hou
have speech with her on this matter?"
"Somewhat.&q=
uot;
Now Gudruda drew
herself away from Eric's side.
"What was the
purport of thy speech?" she said, looking down. "Speak truly,
Eric."
"It came to
little," he answered. "I told her that there was one in Iceland to
whom I was betrothed, and to Iceland I must go."
"And what sa=
id
this Elfrida, then?"
"She said th=
at I
should get little luck at the hands of Gudruda the Fair. Moreover, she aske=
d,
should my betrothed be faithless to me, or put me from her, if I should come
again to England."
Now Gudruda looked
him in the face and spoke. "Say, Eric, is it in thy mind to sail for
England in the spring, if thou canst escape thy foes so long?"
Now Eric took cou=
nsel
with himself, and in his love and doubt grew guileful as he had never been
before. For he knew well that Gudruda had this weakness--she was a jealous
woman.
"Since thou =
dost
put me from thee, that is in my mind, lady," he answered.
Gudruda heard. She
thought on the great and beauteous Lady Elfrida, far away in England, and of
Eric walking at her side, and sorrow took hold of her. She said no word, but
fixed her dark eyes on Brighteyes' face, and lo! they filled with tears.
Eric might not be=
ar
this sight, for his heart beat within him as though it would burst the byrn=
ie
over it. Suddenly he stretched out his arms and swept her to his breast. So=
ft
and sweet he kissed her, again and yet again, and she struggled not, though=
she
wept a little.
"It is small
blame to me," she whispered, "if thou dost hold me on thy breast =
and
kiss me, for thou art more strong than I. Björn must know this if his dead =
eyes
see aught. Yet for thee, Eric, it is the greatest shame of all thy
shames."
"Talk not, my
sweet; talk not," said Eric, "but kiss thou me: for thou knowest =
well
that thou lovest me yet as I love thee."
Now the end of it=
was
that Gudruda yielded and kissed him whom she had not kissed for many years.=
"Loose me,
Eric," she said; "I would speak with thee," and he loosed he=
r,
though unwillingly.
"Hearken,&qu=
ot;
she went on, hiding her fair face in her hands: "it is true that for l=
ife
and death I love thee now as ever--how much thou mayest never know. Though
Björn be dead at thy hands, yet I love thee; but how I may wed thee and not=
win
the greatest shame, that I know not. I am sure of one thing, that we may not
bide here in Iceland. Now if, indeed, thou lovest me, listen to my rede. Get
thee back to Mosfell, Eric, and sit there in safety through this winter, for
they may not come at thee yonder on Mosfell. Then, if thou art willing, in =
the
spring I will make ready a ship, for I have no ship now, and, moreover, it =
is
too late to sail. Then, perchance, leaving all my lands and goods, I will t=
ake
thy hand, Eric, and we will fare together to England, seeking such fortune =
as
the Norns may give us. What sayest thou?"
"I say it is=
a
good rede, and would that the spring were come."
"Ay, Eric, w=
ould
that the spring were come. Our lot has been hard, and I doubt much if things
will go well with us at the last. And now thou must hence, for presently the
serving-women will come to seek me. Guard thyself, Eric, as thou lovest
me--guard thyself, and beware of Swanhild!" Then once more they kissed
soft and long, and Eric went.
But Gudruda sat a
while behind the screen of reeds, and was very happy for a space. For it wa=
s as
though the winter were past and summer shone upon her heart again.
=
XXVII - HOW GUDRUDA WENT =
UP
TO MOSFELL
Eric walked warily
till he came to the dell where he had left Skallagrim and the horses. It was
the same dell in which Groa had brewed the poison-draught for Asmund the Pr=
iest
and Unna, Thorod's daughter.
"What news,
lord?" said Skallagrim. "Thou wast gone so long that I thought of
seeking thee. Hast thou seen Gudruda?"
"Ay," s=
aid
Eric, "and this is the upshot of it, that in the spring we sail for
England and bid farewell to Iceland and our ill luck."
"Would, then,
that it were spring," said Skallagrim, speaking Brighteyes' own words.
"Why not sail now and make an end?"
"Gudruda has=
no
ship and it is late to take the sea. Also I think that she would let a time=
go
by because of the blood-feud which she has against me for the death of
Björn."
"I would rat=
her
risk these things than stay the winter through in Iceland," said Skall=
agrim,
"it is long from now to spring, and yon wolf's den is cold-lying in the
dark months, as I know well."
"There is li=
ght
beyond the darkness," said Eric, and they rode away. Everything went w=
ell
with them till late at night they came to the slopes of Mosfell. They were =
half
asleep on their horses, being weary with much riding, and the horses were w=
eary
also. Suddenly, Skallagrim, looking up, caught the faint gleam of light from
swords hidden behind some stones.
"Awake,
lord!" he cried, "here are foes ahead."
Gizur's folk behi=
nd
the stones heard his voice and came out from their ambush. There were six of
them, and they formed in line before the pair. They were watching the mount=
ain,
for a rumour had reached them that Eric was abroad, and, seeing him, they h=
ad
hidden hastily behind the stones.
"Now what
counsel shall we take?" said Eric, drawing Whitefire.
"We have oft=
en
stood against men more than six, and sometimes we have left more men than s=
ix
to mark where we stood," answered Skallagrim. "It is my counsel t=
hat
we ride at them!"
"So be it,&q=
uot;
said Eric, and he spurred his weary horse with his heels. Now when the six =
saw
Eric and Skallagrim charge on them boldly, they wavered, and the end of it =
was
that they broke and fled to either side before a blow was struck. For it had
come to this pass, so great was the terror of the names of Eric Brighteyes =
and
Skallagrim Lambstail, that no six men dared to stand before them in open fi=
ght.
So the path being
clear they rode on up the slope. But when they had gone a little way,
Skallagrim turned his horse, and mocked those who had lain in ambush, sayin=
g:
"Ye fight we=
ll,
ye carles of Gizur, Ospakar's son! Ye are heroes, surely! Say now, mighty m=
en,
will ye stand there if I come down alone against you?"
At these words the
men grew mad with wrath, and flung their spears. Skallagrim caught one on h=
is
shield and it fell to the earth, but another passed over his head and struck
Eric on the left shoulder, near the neck, making a deep wound. Feeling the
spear fast in him, Eric grasped it with his right hand, drew it forth, and
turning, hurled it so hard, that the man before it got his death from the b=
low,
for his shield did not serve to stay it. Then the rest fled.
Skallagrim bound =
up
Eric's wound as well as he could, and they went on to the cave. But when Er=
ic's
folk, watching above, saw the fight they ran down and met him. Now the hurt=
was
bad and Eric bled much; still, within ten days it healed up for the time.
But a little while
after Eric's wound was skinned over, the snows set in on Mosfell, and the d=
ays
grew short and the nights long. Once Gizur's men to the number of fifty came
half way up the mountain to take it; but, when they saw how strong the place
was, they feared, and went back, and after that returned no more, though th=
ey
always watched the fell.
It was very dark =
and
lonesome there upon the fell. For a while Eric kept in good heart, but as t=
he
days went by he grew troubled. For since he was wounded this had come upon =
him,
that he feared the dark, and the death of Atli at his hand and Atli's words
weighed more and more upon his mind. They had no candles on the fell, yet,
rather than stay in the blackness of the cave, Eric would wrap sheepskins a=
bout
him and sit by the edge of that gulf down which the head of the Baresark had
foretold his fall, and look out at the wide plains and fells and ice-mounta=
ins,
gleaming in the silver shine of the Northern lights or in the white beams of
the stars.
It chanced that E=
ric
had bidden the men who stayed with him to build a stone hut upon the flat s=
pace
of rock before the cave, and to roof it with turves. He had done this that =
work
might keep them in heart, also that they might have a place to store such g=
oods
as they had gathered. Now there was one stone lying near that no two men of
their number could move, except Skallagrim and one other. One day, while it=
was
light, Eric watched these two rolling the stone along to where it must stan=
d,
and it was slow work. Presently they stayed to rest. Then Eric came and put=
ting
his hands beneath the stone, lifted, and while men wondered, he rolled the =
mass
alone, to where it should be set as the corner stone of the hut.
"Ye are all
children," he said, and laughed merrily.
"Ay, when we= set our strength against thine, lord," answered Skallagrim; "but look: the blood runs from thy neck--the spear-wound has broken out afresh."<= o:p>
"So it is,
surely," said Eric. Then he washed the wound and bound it up, thinking
little of the matter.
But that night,
according to his custom, Eric sat on the edge of the gulf and looked at the
winter lights as they played over Hecla's snows. He was sad and heavy at he=
art,
for he thought of Gudruda and wondered much if they should live to wed.
Remembering Atli's words, he had little faith in his good luck. Now as Eric=
sat
and thought, the bandage on his neck slipped, so that the hurt bled, and the
frost got hold of the wound and froze it, and froze his long hair to it als=
o,
in such fashion that when he went to the cave where all men slept, he could=
not
loose his hair from the sore, but lay down with it frozen to him. On the mo=
rrow
the hair was caked so fast about his neck that it could only be freed by sh=
earing
it. But this Eric would not suffer. None, he said, should shear his hair,
except Gudruda. Thus he had sworn, and when he broke the oath misfortune had
come of it. He would break that vow no more, if it cost him his life. For
sorrow and his ill luck had taken so great a hold of Eric's mind that in so=
me
ways he was scarcely himself.
So it came to pass
that he fell more and more sick, till at length he could not rise from his =
bed
in the cave, but lay there all day and night, staring at the little light w=
hich
pierced the gloom. Still, he would not suffer that anyone should touch his
hair. And when one stole upon him sleeping, thinking so to cut it before he
woke, and come at the wound, suddenly he sat up and dealt the man such a bu=
ffet
on the head that he went near to death from it.
Then Skallagrim
spoke.
"On this
matter," he said, "it seems that Brighteyes is mad. He will not s=
uffer
that any touch his hair, except Gudruda, and yet, if his hair is not shorn,=
he
must die, for the wound will fester under it. Nor may we cut it by strength,
for then he will kill himself in struggling. It is come to this then: either
Gudruda must be brought hither or Eric will shortly die."
"That may not
be," they answered. "How can the lady Gudruda come here across the
snows, even if she will come?"
"Come she ca=
n,
if she has the heart," said Skallagrim, "though I put little trus=
t in
women's hearts. Still, I ride down to Middalhof, and thou, Jon, shalt go wi=
th
me. For the rest, I charge you watch your lord; for, if I come back and find
anything amiss, that shall be the death of some, and if I do not come back =
but
perish on the road, yet I will haunt you."
Now Jon liked not
this task; still, for love of Eric and fear of Skallagrim, he set out with =
the
Baresark. They had a hard journey through the snow-drifts and the dark, but=
on
the third day they came to Middalhof, knocked upon the door and entered.
Now it was
supper-time, and people, sitting at meat, saw a great black man, covered wi=
th
snow and rime, stalk up the hall, and after him another smaller man, who
groaned with the cold, and they wondered at the sight. Gudruda sat on the h=
igh
seat and the firelight beat upon her face.
"Who comes
here?" she said.
"One who wou=
ld
speak with thee, lady," answered Skallagrim.
"Here is
Skallagrim the Baresark," said a man. "He is an outlaw, let us ki=
ll
him!"
"Ay, it is
Skallagrim," he answered, "and if there is killing to be done, why
here's that which shall do it," and he drew out his axe and smiled gri=
mly.
Then all held the=
ir
peace, for they feared the axe of Skallagrim.
"Lady,"=
he
said, "I do not come for slaying or such child's play, I come to speak=
a
word in thine ear--but first I ask a cup of mead and a morsel of food, for =
we
have spent three days in the snows."
So they ate and
drank. Then Gudruda bade the Baresark draw near and tell her his tale.
"Lady,"
said he, "Eric, my lord, lies dying on Mosfell."
Gudruda turned wh=
ite
as the snow.
"Dying?--Eric
lies dying?" she said. "Why, then, art thou here?"
"For this ca=
use,
lady: I think that thou canst save him, if he is not already sped." An=
d he
told her all the tale.
Now Gudruda thoug=
ht a
while.
"This is a h=
ard
journey," she said, "and it does not become a maid to visit outla=
ws
in their caves. Yet I am come to this, that I will die before I shrink from
anything that may save the life of Eric. When must we ride, Skallagrim?&quo=
t;
"This
night," said the Baresark. "This night while the men sleep, for n=
ow
night and day are almost the same. The snow is deep and we have no time to =
lose
if we would find Brighteyes living."
"Then we will
ride to-night," answered Gudruda.
Afterwards, when
people slept, Gudruda the Fair summoned her women, and bade them say to all=
who
asked for her that she lay sick in bed. But she called three trusty thralls,
bidding them bring two pack-horses laden with hay, food, drugs, candles mad=
e of
sheep's fat, and other goods, and ride with her. Then, all being ready, they
rode away secretly up Stonefell, Gudruda on her horse Blackmane, and the ot=
hers
on good geldings that had been hay-fed in the yard, and by daylight they pa=
ssed
up Horse-Head Heights. They slept two nights in the snow, and on the second
night almost perished there, for much soft snow fell. But afterwards came f=
rost
and a bitter northerly wind and they passed on. Gudruda was a strong woman =
and
great of heart and will, and so it came about that on the third day she rea=
ched
Mosfell, weary but little harmed, though the fingers of her left hand were
frostbitten. They climbed the mountain, and when they came to the dell where
the horses were kept, certain of Eric's men met them and their faces were s=
ad.
"How goes it=
now
with Brighteyes?" said Skallagrim, for Gudruda could scarcely speak
because of doubt and cold. "Is he dead, then?"
"Nay," =
they
answered, "but like to die, for he is beside himself and raves
wildly."
"Push on,&qu=
ot;
quoth Gudruda; "push on, lest it be too late."
So they climbed t=
he
mountain on foot, won the pass and came to that giddy point of rock where he
must tread who would reach the platform that is before the cave. Now since =
she
had hung by her hands over Goldfoss gulf, Gudruda had feared to tread upon a
height with nothing to hold to. Skallagrim went first, then called to her to
follow. Thrice she looked, and turned away, trembling, for the place was aw=
ful
and the fall bottomless. Then she spoke aloud to herself:
"Eric did not
fear to risk his life to save me when I hung over Golden Falls; less, then,
should I fear to risk mine to save him," and she stepped boldly down u=
pon
the point. But when she stood there, over the giddy height, shivers ran alo=
ng
her body, and her mind grew dark. She clutched at the rock, gave one low cry
and began to fall. Indeed she would have fallen and been lost, had not
Skallagrim, lying on his breast in the narrow hole, stretched out his arms,
caught her by the cloak and kirtle and dragged her to him. Presently her se=
nses
came back.
"I am
safe!" she gasped, "but by a very little. Methinks that here in t=
his
place I must live and die, for I can never tread yonder rock again."
"Thou shalt =
pass
it safe enough, lady, with a rope round thee," said Skallagrim, and led
the way to the cave.
Gudruda entered,
forgetting all things in her love of Eric. A great fire of turf burned in t=
he
mouth of the cave to temper the bitter wind and frost, and by its light Gud=
ruda
saw her love through the smoke-reek. He lay upon a bed of skins at the far =
end
of the cave and his bright grey eyes were wild, his wan face was white, and=
now
of a sudden it grew red with fever, and then was white again. He had thrown=
the
sheepskins from his mighty chest, the bones of which stood out grimly. His =
long
arms were thrust through the locks of his golden hair, and on one side of h=
is neck
the hair clung to him and it was but a black mass.
He raved loudly in
his madness. "Touch me not, carles, touch me not; ye think me spent and
weak, but, by Thor! if ye touch my hair, I will loosen the knees of some.
Gudruda alone shall shear my hair: I have sworn and I will keep the oath th=
at I
once broke. Give me snow! snow! my throat burns! Heap snow on my head, I bid
you. Ye will not? Ye mock me, thinking me weak! Where, then, is Whitefire?-=
-I
have yet a deed to do! Who comes yonder? Is it a woman's shape or is it but=
a
smoke-wraith? 'Tis Swanhild the Fatherless who walks the waters. Begone,
Swanhild, thou witch! thou hast worked evil enough upon me. Nay, it is not =
Swanhild,
it is Elfrida; lady, here in England I may not stay. In Iceland I am at hom=
e.
Yea, yea, things go crossly; perchance in this garden we may speak again!&q=
uot;
Now Gudruda could
bear his words no longer, bur ran to him and knelt beside him.
"Peace,
Eric!" she whispered. "Peace! It is I, thy love. It is Gudruda, w=
ho
am come to thee."
He turned his head
and looked upon her strangely.
"No, no,&quo=
t;
he said, "it is not Gudruda the Fair. She will have little to do with
outlaws, and this is too rough a place for her to come to. It is dark also =
and
Atli speaks in the darkness. If thou art Gudruda, give me a sign. Why comest
thou here and where is Skallagrim? Ah! that was a good fight--
"Down among the ballast tumblin=
g Ospakar's shield-carles were rolled.=
"But he shou=
ld
never have slain the steersman. The axe goes first and Skallagrim follows
after. Ha, ha! Ay, Swanhild, we'll mingle tears. Give me the cup. Why, what=
is
this? Thou art afire, a glory glows about thee, and from thee floats a scent
like the scent of the Iceland meads in May."
"Eric!
Eric!" cried Gudruda, "I am come to shear thy hair, as thou didst=
swear
that I alone should do."
"Now I know =
that
thou art Gudruda," said the crazed man. "Cut, cut; but let not th=
ose
knaves touch my head, lest I should slay them."
Then Gudruda drew=
out
her shears, and without more ado shore off Brighteyes' golden locks. It was=
no
easy task, for they were thick as a horse's mane, and glued to the wound. Y=
et
when she had cut them, she loosened the hair from the flesh with water which
she heated upon the fire. The wound was in a bad state and blue, still Eric
never winced while she dragged the hair from it. Then she washed the sore
clean, and put sweet ointment on it and covered it with napkins.
This done, she ga=
ve
Eric broth and he drank. Then, laying her hand upon his head, she looked in=
to
his eyes and bade him sleep. And presently he slept--which he had scarcely =
done
for many days--slept like a little child.
Eric slept for a =
day
and a night. But at that same hour of the evening, when he had fallen aslee=
p,
Gudruda, watching him by the light of a taper that was set upon a rock, saw=
him
smile in his dreams. Presently he opened his eyes and stared at the fire wh=
ich
glowed in the mouth of the cave, and the great shadows that fell upon the
rocks.
"Strange!&qu=
ot;
she heard him murmur, "it is very strange! but I dreamed I slept, and =
that
Gudruda the Fair leaned over me as I slept. Where, then, is Skallagrim? Per=
haps
I am dead and that is Hela's fire," and he tried to lift himself upon =
his
arm, but fell back from faintness, for he was very weak. Then Gudruda took =
his
hand, and, leaning over him, spoke:
"Hush,
Eric!" she said; "that was no dream, for I am here. Thou hast been
sick to death, Eric; but now, if thou wilt rest, things shall go well with
thee."
" Thou art here?" said Eric, turning his w=
hite
face towards her. "Do I still dream, or how comest thou here to Mosfel=
l,
Gudruda?"
"I came thro=
ugh
the snows, Eric, to cut thy hair, which clung to the festering wound, for in
thy madness thou wouldst not suffer anyone to touch it."
"Thou camest
through the snows--over the snows--to nurse me, Gudruda? Thou must love me =
much
then," and he was so weak that, as he spoke, the tears rolled down Eri=
c's
cheeks.
Then Gudruda kiss=
ed
him, weeping also, and, laying her face by his, bade him be at peace, for s=
he
was there to watch him.
=
XXVIII - HOW SWANHILD WON
TIDINGS OF ERIC
Now Eric's streng=
th
came back to him and his heart opened in the light of Gudruda's eyes like a
flower in the sunshine. For all day long she sat at his side, holding his h=
and
and talking to him, and they found much to say.
But on the fifth =
day
from the day of his awakening she spoke thus:
"Eric, now I
must go back to Middalhof. Thou art safe and it is not well that I should s=
tay
here."
"Not yet,
Gudruda," he said; "leave me not yet."
"Yes, love, I
must leave thee. The moon is bright, the sky has cleared, and the snow is h=
ard
with frost and fit for the hoofs of horses. I must go before more storms co=
me.
Listen now: in the second week of spring, if all is well, I will send thee a
messenger with words of token, then shalt thou come down secretly to Middal=
hof,
and there, Eric, we will be wed. Then, on the next day, we will sail for
England in a trading-ship that I shall get ready, to seek our fortune
there."
"It will be a
good fortune if thou art by my side," said Eric, "so good that I
doubt greatly if I may find it, for I am Eric the Unlucky. Swanhild must ye=
t be
reckoned with, Gudruda. Yes, thou art right: thou must go hence, Gudruda, a=
nd
swiftly, though it grieves me much to part with thee."
Then Eric called
Skallagrim and bade him make things ready to ride down to Middalhof with the
Lady Gudruda.
This Skallagrim d=
id
swiftly, and afterwards Eric and Gudruda kissed and parted, and they were s=
ad
at heart to part.
Now on the fifth =
day
after the going of Gudruda, Skallagrim came back to Mosfell somewhat cold a=
nd
weary. And he told Eric, who could now walk and grew strong again, that he =
and
Jon had ridden with Gudruda the Fair to Horse-Head Heights, seeing no man, =
and
had left her there to go on with her thralls. He had come back also seeing =
no
one, for the weather was too cold for the men of Gizur to watch the fell in=
the
snows.
Now Gudruda came
safely to Middalhof, having been eleven days gone, and found that few had
visited the house, and that these had been told that she lay sick abed. Her
secret had been well kept, and, though Swanhild had no lack of spies, many =
days
went by before she learned that Gudruda had gone up to Mosfell to nurse Eri=
c.
After this Gudruda
began to make ready for her flight from Iceland. She called in the moneys t=
hat
she had out at interest, and with them bought from a certain chapman a good
trading-ship which lay in its shed under the shelter of Westman Isles. This
ship she began to make ready for sea so soon as the heart of the winter was
broken, putting it about that she intended to send her on a trading voyage =
to
Scotland in the spring. And also to give colour to this tale she bought many
pelts and other goods, such as chapmen deal in.
Thus the days pas=
sed
on--not so badly for Gudruda, who strove to fill their emptiness in making
ready for the full and happy time; but for Eric in his cave they were very
heavy, for he could find nothing to do except to sleep and eat, and think of
Gudruda, whom he might not see.
For Swanhild also,
sitting at Coldback, the days did not go well. She was weary of the courtin=
g of
Gizur, whom she played with as a cat plays with a rat, and her heart was si=
ck
with love, hate, and jealousy. For she well knew that Gudruda and Eric still
clung to each other and found means of greeting, if not of speech. At that =
time
she wished to kill Eric if she could, though she would rather kill Gudruda =
if
she dared. Still, she could not come at Eric, for her men feared to try the
narrow way of Mosfell, and when they met him in the open they fled before h=
im.
Presently it came=
to
her ears that Gudruda made a ship ready to sail to Scotland on a trading
voyage, and she was perplexed by this tale, for she knew that Gudruda had no
love of trading and never thought of gain. So she set spies to watch the sh=
ip.
Still, the slow days drew on, and at length the air grew soft with spring, =
and
flowers showed through the snow.
Eric sat in his
mountain nest waiting for tidings, and watched the nesting eagles wheel abo=
ut
the cliffs. At length news came. For one morning, as he rose, Skallagrim to=
ld
him that a man wanted to speak with him. He had come to the mountain in the
darkness, and had lain in a dell till the breaking of the light, for, now t=
hat
the snows were melting, the men of Gizur and Swanhild watched the ways.
Eric bade them br=
ing
the man to him. When he saw him he knew that he was a thrall of Gudruda's a=
nd
welcomed him heartily.
"What
tidings?" he asked.
"This,
lord," said the thrall: "Gudruda the Fair bids me say that she is=
well
and that the snows melt on the roof of Middalhof."
Now this was the
signal word that had been agreed upon between Eric and Gudruda, that she sh=
ould
send him when all was ready.
"Good,"
said Eric, "ride back to Gudruda the Fair and say that Eric Brighteyes=
is
well, but on Hecla the snows melt not."
By this answer he
meant that he would be with her presently, though the thrall could make not=
hing
of it. Then Skallagrim asked tidings of the man, and learned that Swanhild =
was
still at Middalhof, and with her Gizur, and that they gave out that they wi=
shed
to make an end of waiting and slay Eric.
"First snare
your bird, then wring his neck," laughed Skallagrim.
Then Eric did thi=
s:
among his men were some who he knew were not willing to sail from Iceland, =
and
Jon, his thrall, was of them, for Jon did not love the angry sea. He bade t=
hese
bide a while on Mosfell and make fires nightly on the platform of rock whic=
h is
in front of the cave, that the spies of Gizur and Swanhild might be deceive=
d by
them, and think that Eric was still on the fell. Then, when they heard that=
he
had sailed, they were to come down and hide themselves with friends till Gi=
zur
and his following rode north. But he told two of the men who would sail wit=
h him
to make ready.
That night before=
the
moon rose Eric said farewell to Jon and the others who stayed on Mosfell, a=
nd
rode away with Skallagrim and the two who went with him. They passed the pl=
ain
of black sand in safety, and so on to Horse-Head Heights. Now at length, as=
the
afternoon drew on to evening, from Stonefell's crest they saw the Hall of
Middalhof before them, and Eric's heart swelled in his breast. Yet they must
wait till darkness fell before they dared enter the place, lest they should=
be seen
and notice of their coming should be carried to Gizur and Swanhild. And this
came into the mind of Eric, that of all the hours of his life that hour of
waiting was the longest. Scarcely, indeed, could Skallagrim hold him back f=
rom
going down the mountain side, he was so set on coming to Gudruda whom he sh=
ould
wed that night.
At length the
darkness fell, and they went on. Eric rode swiftly down the rough mountain
path, while Skallagrim and the two men followed grumbling, for they feared =
that
their horses would fall. At length they came to the place, and riding into =
the
yard, Eric sprang from his horse and strode to the women's door. Now Gudruda
stood in the porch, listening; and while he was yet some way off, she heard=
the
clang of Brighteyen's harness, and the colour came and went upon her cheek.
Then she turned and fled to the high seat of the hall, and sat down there. =
Only
two women were left in Middalhof with her, and some thralls who tended the =
kine
and horses. But these slept, not in the hall, but in an outhouse. Gudruda h=
ad
sent the rest of her people down to the ship to help in the lading, for it =
was
given out that the vessel sailed on the morrow. She had done this that there
might be no talk of the coming of Eric to Middalhof.
Now Brighteyes ca=
me
to the porch, and, finding the door wide, walked in. But Skallagrim and the=
men
stayed without a while, and tended the horses. A fire burned upon the centre
hearth in the hall, and threw shadows on the panelling. Eric walked on by i=
ts
light, looking to left and right, but seeing neither man nor woman. Then a
great fear took him lest Gudruda should be gone, or perhaps slain of Swanhi=
ld,
Groa's daughter, and he trembled at the thought. He stood by the fire, and =
Gudruda,
watching from the shadow of the high seat, saw the dull light glow upon his
golden helm, and a sigh of joy broke from her lips. Eric heard the sigh and
looked, and as he looked a stick of pitchy driftwood fell into the fire and
flared up fiercely. Then he saw. There, in the carved high seat, robed all =
in
bridal white, sat Gudruda the Fair, his love. Her golden hair flowed about =
her
breast, her white arms were stretched towards him, and on her sweet face sh=
one
such a look of love as he had never seen.
" Eric! &quo=
t;
she whispered softly, and the breath of her voice ran down the empty panell=
ed
hall, that from all sides seemed to answer, " Eric. "
Slowly he drew ne=
ar
to her. He saw nothing but the glory of Gudruda's face and the light shinin=
g on
Gudruda's hair; he heard nothing save the sighing of her breath; he knew
nothing except that before him sat his fair bride, won after many years.
Now he had climbed
the high seat, and now, wrapped in each other's arms, they sat and gazed in=
to
each other's eyes, and lo! the air of the great hall rolled round them a se=
a of
glory, and sweet voices whispered in their ears. Now Freya smiled upon them=
and
led them through her gates of love, and they were glad that they had been b=
orn.
Thus then they we=
re
wed.
Now the story tel=
ls
that Swanhild spoke with Gizur, Ospakar's son, in the house at Coldback.
"I tire of t=
his
slow play," she said. "We have tarried here for many weeks, and
Atli's blood yet cries out for vengeance, and cries for vengeance the blood=
of
black Ospakar, thy father, and the blood of many another, dead at great Eri=
c's
hand."
"I tire
also," said Gizur, "and I am much needed in the north. I say this=
to
thee, Swanhild, that, hadst thou not so strictly laid it on me that Eric mu=
st
die ere thou weddest me, I had flitted back to Swinefell before now, and th=
ere
bided my time to bring Brighteyes to his end."
"I will never
wed thee, Gizur, till Eric is dead," said Swanhild fiercely.
"How shall we
come at him then?" he answered. "We may not go up that mountain p=
ath,
for two men can hold it against all our strength, and folk do not love to m=
eet
Eric and Skallagrim in a narrow way."
"The place h=
as
been badly watched," said Swanhild. "I am sure of this, that Eric=
has
been down to Middalhof and seen Gudruda, my half-sister. She is shameless, =
who
still holds commune with him who slew her brother and my husband. Death sho=
uld
be her reward, and I am minded to slay her because of the shame that she has
brought upon our blood."
"That is a d=
eed
which thou wilt do alone, then," said Gizur, "for I will have no =
hand
in the murder of that fair maid--no, nor will any who live in Iceland!"=
;
Swanhild glanced =
at
him strangely. "Hearken, Gizur!" she said: "Gudruda makes a =
ship
ready to sail with goods to Scotland and bring a cargo thence before winter
comes again. Now I find this strange, for never before did I know Gudruda t=
urn
her thoughts to trading. I think that she has it in her mind to sail from
Iceland with this outlaw Eric, and seek a home over seas, and that I will n=
ot
bear."
"It may
be," said Gizur, "and I should not be sorry to see the last of Br=
ighteyes,
for I think that more men will die at his hand before he stiffens in his
barrow."
"Thou art
cowardly-hearted, thou son of Ospakar!" Swanhild said. "Thou saye=
st
thou lovest me and wouldest win me to wife: I tell thee that there is but o=
ne
road to my arms, and it leads over the corpse of Eric. Now this is my couns=
el:
that we send the most of our men to watch that ship of Gudruda's, and, when=
she
lifts anchor, to board her and search, for she is already bound for sea. Al=
so
among the people here I have a carle who was born near Hecla, and he swears
this to me, that, when he was a lad, searching for an eagle's eyrie, he fou=
nd a
path by which Mosfell might be climbed from the north, and that in the end =
he
came to a large flat place, and, looking over, saw that platform where Eric=
dwells
with his thralls. But he could not see the cave, because of the overhanging
brow of the rock. Now we will do this: thou and I, and the carle alone--no
more, for I do not wish that our search should be noised abroad--to-morrow =
at
the dawn we will ride away for Mosfell, and, passing under Hecla, come round
the mountain and see if this path may still be scaled. For, if so, we will
return with men and make an end of Brighteyes."
This plan pleased
Gizur, and he said that it should be so.
So very early on =
the
following morning Swanhild, having sent many men to watch Gudruda's ship, r=
ode
away secretly with Gizur and the thrall, and before it was again dawn they =
were
on the northern slopes of Mosfell. It was on this same night that Eric went
down from the mountain to wed Gudruda.
For a while the
climbing was easy, but at length they came to a great wall of rock, a hundr=
ed
fathoms high, on which no fox might find a foothold, nor anything that had =
not
wings.
"Here now is=
an
end of our journey," said Gizur, "and I only pray this, that Eric=
may
not ride round the mountain before we are down again." For he did not =
know
that Brighteyes already rode hard for Middalhof.
"Not so,&quo=
t;
said the thrall, "if only I can find the place by which, some thirty
summers ago, I won yonder rift, and through it the crest of the fell,"=
and
he pointed to a narrow cleft in the face of the rock high above their heads,
that was clothed with grey moss.
Then he moved to =
the
right and searched, peering behind stones and birch-bushes, till presently =
he
held up his hand and whistled. They passed along the slope and found him
standing by a little stream of water which welled from beneath a great rock=
.
"Here is the
place," the man said.
"I see no
place," answered Swanhild.
"Still, it is
there, lady," and he climbed on to the rock, drawing her after him. At=
the
back of it was a hole, almost overgrown with moss. "Here is the
path," he said again.
"Then it is =
one
that I have no mind to follow," answered Swanhild. "Gizur, go thou
with the man and see if his tale is true. I will stay here till ye come
back."
Then the thrall l=
et
himself down into the hole and Gizur went after him. But Swanhild sat there=
in
the shadow of the rock, her chin resting on her hand, and waited. Presently=
, as
she sat, she saw two men ride round the base of the fell, and strike off to=
the
right towards a turf-booth which stood the half of an hour's ride away. Now
Swanhild was the keenest-sighted of all women of her day in Iceland, and wh=
en
she looked at these two men she knew one of them for Jon, Eric's thrall, and
she knew the horse also--it was a white horse with black patches, that Jon =
had
ridden for many years. She watched them go till they came to the booth, and=
it
seemed to her that they left their horses and entered.
Swanhild waited u=
pon
the side of the fell for nearly two hours in all. Then, hearing a noise abo=
ve
her, she looked up, and there, black with dirt and wet with water, was Gizu=
r,
and with him was the thrall.
"What luck,
Gizur?" she asked.
"This, Swanh=
ild:
Eric may hold Mosfell no more, for we have found a way to bolt the fox.&quo=
t;
"That is good
news, then," said Swanhild. "Say on."
"Yonder hole,
Swanhild, leads to the cleft above, having been cut through the cliff by fi=
re,
or perhaps by water. Now up that cleft a man may climb, though hardly, as b=
y a
difficult stair, till he comes to the flat crest of the fell. Then, crossing
the crest, on the further side, perhaps six fathoms below him, he sees that
space of rock where is Eric's cave; but he cannot see the cave itself, beca=
use
the brow of the cliff hangs over. And so it is that, if any come from the c=
ave
on to the space of rock, it will be an easy matter to roll stones upon them
from above and crush them."
Now when Swanhild
heard this she laughed aloud.
"Eric shall =
mock
us no more," she said, "and his might can avail nothing against r=
ocks
rolled on him from above. Let us go back to Coldback and summon men to make=
an
end of Brighteyes."
So they went on d=
own
the mountain till they came to the place where they had hidden their horses.
Then Swanhild remembered Jon and the other man whom she had seen riding to =
the
booth, and she told Gizur of them.
"Now," =
she
said, "we will snare these birds, and perchance they will twitter tidi=
ngs
when we squeeze them."
So they turned and
rode for the booth, and drawing near, they saw two horses grazing without. =
Now
they got off their horses, and creeping up to the booth, looked in through =
the
door which was ajar. And they saw this, that one man sat on the ground with=
his
back to the door, eating stock-fish, while Jon made bundles of fish and meal
ready to tie on the horses. For it was here that those of his quarter who l=
oved
Eric brought food to be carried by his men to the cave on Mosfell.
Now Swanhild touc=
hed
Gizur on the arm, pointing first to the man who sat eating the fish and the=
n to
the spear in Gizur's hand. Gizur thought a while, for he shrank from this d=
eed.
Then Swanhild
whispered in his ear, "Slay the man and seize the other; I would learn
tidings from him."
So Gizur cast the
spear, and it passed through the man's heart, and he was dead at once. Then=
he
and the thrall leapt into the booth and threw themselves on Jon, hurling hi=
m to
the ground, and holding swords over him. Now Jon was a man of small heart, =
and
when he saw his plight and his fellow dead he was afraid, and prayed for me=
rcy.
"If I spare
thee, knave," said Swanhild, "thou shalt do this: thou shalt lead=
me up
Mosfell to speak with Eric."
"I may not do
that, lady," groaned Jon; "for Eric is not on Mosfell."
"Where is he,
then?" asked Swanhild.
Now Jon saw that =
he
had said an unlucky thing, and answered:
"Nay, I know
not. Last night he rode from Mosfell with Skallagrim Lambstail."
"Thou liest,
knave," said Swanhild. "Speak, or thou shalt be slain."
"Slay on,&qu=
ot;
groaned Jon, glancing at the swords above him, and shutting his eyes. For,
though he feared much to die, he had no will to make known Eric's plans.
"Look not at=
the
swords; thou shalt not die so easily. Hearken: speak, and speak truly, or t=
hou
shalt seek Hela's lap after this fashion," and, bending down, she
whispered in his ear, then laughed aloud.
Now Jon grew faint
with fear; his lips turned blue, and his teeth chattered at the thought of =
how
he should be made to die. Still, he would say nothing.
Then Swanhild spo=
ke
to Gizur and the thrall, and bade them bind him with a rope, tear the garme=
nts
from him, and bring snow. They did this, and pushed the matter to the drawi=
ng
of knives. But when he saw the steel Jon cried aloud that he would tell all=
.
"Now thou ta=
kest
good counsel," said Swanhild.
Then in his fear =
Jon
told how Eric had gone down to Middalhof to wed Gudruda, and thence to fly =
with
her to England.
Now Swanhild was =
mad
with wrath, for she had sooner died than that this should come about.
"Let us
away," she said to Gizur. "But first kill this man."
"Nay," =
said
Gizur, "I will not do that. He has told his tidings; let him go
free."
"Thou art
chicken-hearted," said Swanhild, who, after the fashion of witches, ha=
d no
mercy in her. "At the least, he shall not go hence to warn Eric and
Gudruda of our coming. If thou wilt not kill him, then bind him and leave
him."
So Jon was bound,=
and
there in the booth he sat two days before anyone came to loose him.
"Whither
away?" said Gizur to Swanhild.
"To Middalhof
first," Swanhild answered.
=
XXIX - HOW WENT THE BRIDAL
NIGHT
Now Eric and Gudr=
uda
sat silent in the high seat of the hall at Middalhof till they heard Skalla=
grim
enter by the women's door. Then they came down from the high seat, and stood
hand in hand by the fire on the hearth. Skallagrim greeted Gudruda, looking=
at
her askance, for Skallagrim stood in fear of women alone.
"What counse=
l now,
lord?" said the Baresark.
"Tell us thy
plans, Gudruda," said Eric, for as yet no word had passed between them=
of
what they should do.
"This is my
plan, Eric," she answered. "First, that we eat; then that thy men
take horse and ride hence through the night to where the ship lies, bearing
word that we will be there at dawn when the tide serves, and bidding the ma=
te
make everything ready for sailing. But thou and I and Skallagrim will stay =
here
till to-morrow is three hours old, and this because I have tidings that Giz=
ur's
folk will search the ship to-night. Now, when they search and do not find u=
s,
they will go away. Then, at the dawning, thou and I and Skallagrim will row=
on
board the ship as she lies at anchor, and, slipping the cable, put to sea b=
efore
they know we are there, and so bid farewell to Swanhild and our woes."=
"Yet it is a
risk for us to sleep here alone," said Eric.
"There is li=
ttle
danger," said Gudruda. "Nearly all of Gizur's men watch the ship;=
and
I have learned this from a spy, that, two days ago, Gizur, Swanhild, and one
thrall rode from Coldback towards Mosfell, and they have not come back yet.
Moreover, the place is strong, and thou and Skallagrim are here to guard
it."
"So be it,
then," answered Eric, for indeed he had little thought left for anythi=
ng,
except Gudruda.
After this the wo=
men
came in and set meat on the board, and all ate.
Now, when they had
eaten, Eric bade Skallagrim fill a cup, and bring it to him as he sat on the
high seat with Gudruda. Skallagrim did so; and then, looking deep into each
other's eyes, Eric Brighteyes and Gudruda the Fair, Asmund's daughter, drank
the bride's cup.
"There are f=
ew
guests to grace our marriage-feast, husband," said Gudruda.
"Yet shall o=
ur
vows hold true, wife," said Eric.
"Ay, Brighte=
yes,"
she answered, "in life and in death, now and for ever!" and they
kissed.
"It is time =
for
us to be going, methinks," growled Skallagrim to those about him. &quo=
t;We
are not wanted here."
Then the men who =
were
to go on to the ship rose, fetched their horses, and rode away. Also they
caught the horses of Skallagrim, Eric, and Gudruda, saddled them and, slipp=
ing
their bridles, made them fast in a shed in the yard, giving them hay to eat.
Afterwards Skallagrim barred the men's door and the women's door, and, goin=
g to
Gudruda, asked where he should stay the night till it was time to ride for =
the
sea.
"In the
store-chamber," she answered, "for there is a shutter of which the
latch has gone. See that thou watch it well, Skallagrim; though I think none
will come to trouble thee."
"I know the
place. It shall go badly with the head that looks through yonder hole,"
said Skallagrim, glancing at his axe.
Now Gudruda forgot
this, that in the store-chamber were casks of strong ale.
Then Gudruda told=
him
to wake them when the morrow was two hours old, for Eric had neither eyes n=
or
words except for Gudruda alone, and Skallagrim went.
The women went al=
so
to their shut bed at the end of the hall, leaving Brighteyes and Gudruda al=
one.
Eric looked at her.
"Where do I
sleep to-night?" he asked.
"Thou sleepe=
st
with me, husband," she answered soft, "for nothing, except Death,
shall come between us any more."
Now Skallagrim we=
nt
to the store-room, and sat down with his back against a cask. His heart was
heavy in him, for he boded no good of this marriage. Moreover, he was jealo=
us.
Skallagrim loved but one thing in the world truly, and that was Eric
Brighteyes, his lord. Now he knew that henceforth he must take a second pla=
ce,
and that for one thought which Eric gave to him, he would give ten to Gudru=
da.
Therefore Skallagrim was very sad at heart.
"A pest upon=
the
women!" he said to himself, "for from them comes all evil. Bright=
eyes
owes his ill luck to Swanhild and this fair wife of his, and that is scarce=
ly
done with yet. Well, well, 'tis nature; but would that we were safe at sea!=
Had
I my will, we had not slept here to-night. But they are newly wed, and--wel=
l,
'tis nature! Better the bride loves to lie abed than to ride the cold wolds=
and
seek the common deck."
Now, as Skallagrim
grumbled, fear gathered in his heart, he knew not of what. He began to thin=
k on
trolls and goblins. It was dark in the store-room, except for a little line=
of
light that crept through the crack of the shutter. At length he could bear =
the
darkness and his thoughts no longer, but, rising, threw the shutter wide and
let the bright moonlight pour into the chamber, whence he could see the
hillside behind, and watch the shadows of the clouds as they floated across=
it.
Again Skallagrim sat down against his cask, and as he sat it moved, and he
heard the wash of ale inside it.
"That is a g=
ood
sound," said Skallagrim, and he turned and smelt at the cask; "ay=
e,
and a good smell, too! We tasted little ale yonder on Mosfell, and we shall
find less at sea." Again he looked at the cask. There was a spigot in =
it,
and lo! on the shelf stood horn cups.
"It surely i=
s on
draught," he said; "and now it will stand till it goes sour. 'Tis=
a
pity; but I will not drink. I fear ale--ale is another man! No, I will not =
drink,"
and all the while his hand went up to the cups upon the shelf. "Eric is
better lain yonder in Gudruda's chamber than I am here alone with evil thou=
ghts
and trolls," he said. "Why, what fish was that we ate at supper? =
My
throat is cracked with thirst! If there were water now I'd drink it, but I =
see
none. Well, one cup to wish them joy! There is no harm in a cup of ale,&quo=
t;
and he drew the spigot from the cask and watched the brown drink flow into =
the
cup. Then he lifted it to his lips and drank, saying "Skoll!
skoll!"[*] nor did he cease till the horn was drained. "This is
wondrous good ale," said Skallagrim as he wiped his grizzled beard.
"One more cup, and evil thoughts shall cease to haunt me."
[*] "Health!
health!"
Again he filled,
drank, sat down, and for a while was merry. But presently the black thoughts
came back into his mind. He rose, looked through the shutter-hole to the
hillside. He could see nothing on it except the shadows of the clouds.
"Trolls walk=
the
winds to-night," he said. "I feel them pulling at my beard. One m=
ore
cup to frighten them."
He drank another
draught of ale and grew merry. Then ale called for ale, and Skallagrim drai=
ned
cup on cup, singing as he drained, till at last heavy sleep overcame him, a=
nd
he sank drunken on the ground there by the barrel, while the brown ale tric=
kled
round him.
Now Eric Brightey=
es
and Gudruda the Fair slept side by side, locked in each other's arms. Prese=
ntly
Gudruda was wide awake.
"Rouse thee,
Eric," she said, "I have dreamed an evil dream."
He awoke and kiss=
ed
her.
"What, then,=
was
thy dream, sweet?" he said. "This is no hour for bad dreams."=
;
"No hour for=
bad
dreams, truly, husband; yet dreams do not weigh the hour of their coming. I
dreamed this: that I lay dead beside thee and thou knewest it not, while
Swanhild looked at thee and mocked."
"An evil dre=
am,
truly," said Eric; "but see, thou art not dead. Thou hast thought=
too
much on Swanhild of late."
Now they slept on=
ce
more, till presently Eric was wide awake.
"Rouse thee,
Gudruda," he said, "I too have dreamed a dream, and it is full of
evil."
"What, then,=
was
thy dream, husband?" she asked.
"I dreamed t=
hat
Atli the Earl, whom I slew, stood by the bed. His face was white, and white=
as
snow was his beard, and blood from his great wound ran down his byrnie. 'Er=
ic
Brighteyes,' he said, 'I am he whom thou didst slay, and I come to tell thee
this: that before the moon is young again thou shalt lie stiff, with Hell-s=
hoes
on thy feet. Thou art Eric the Unlucky! Take thy joy and say thy say to her=
who
lies at thy side, for wet and cold is the bed that waits thee and soon shall
thy white lips be dumb.' Then he was gone, and lo! in his place stood Asmun=
d,
thy father, and he also spoke to me, saying, 'Thou who dost lie in my bed a=
nd
at my daughter's side, know this: the words of Atli are true; but I add the=
se
to them: ye shall die, yet is death but the gate of life and love and rest,'
and he was gone."
Now Gudruda shive=
red
with fear, and crept closer to Eric's side.
"We are sure=
ly
fey, for the Norns speak with the voices of Atli and of Asmund," she s=
aid.
"Oh, Eric! Eric! whither go we when we die? Will Valhalla take thee, b=
eing
so mighty a man, and must I away to Hela's halls, where thou art not? Oh! t=
hat
would be death indeed! Say, Eric, whither do we go?"
"What said t=
he
voice of Asmund?" answered Brighteyes. "That death is but the gat=
e of
life and love and rest. Hearken, Gudruda, my May! Odin does not reign over =
all
the world, for when I sat out yonder in England, a certain holy man taught =
me of
another God--a God who loves not slaughter, a God who died that men might l=
ive
for ever in peace with those they love."
"How is this=
God
named, Eric?"
"They name H=
im
the White Christ, and there are many who cling to Him."
"Would that I
knew this Christ, Eric. I am weary of death and blood and evil deeds, such =
as
are pleasing to our Gods. Oh, Eric, if I am taken from thee, swear this to =
me:
that thou wilt slay no more, save for thy life's sake only."
"I swear tha=
t,
sweet," he made answer. "For I too am weary of death and blood, a=
nd
desire peace most of all things. The world is sad, and sad have been our da=
ys.
Yet it is well to have lived, for through many heavy days we have wandered =
to
this happy night."
"Yea, Eric, =
it
is well to have lived; though I think that death draws on. Now this is my
counsel: that we rise, and that thou dost put on thy harness and summon
Skallagrim, so that, if evil comes, thou mayst meet it armed. Surely I thou=
ght
I heard a sound--yonder in the hall!"
"There is li=
ttle
use in that," said Eric, "for things will befall as they are fate=
d.
We may do nothing of our own will, I am sure of this, and it is no good to
struggle with the Norns. Yet I will rise."
So he kissed her,=
and
made ready to leave the bed, when suddenly, as he lingered, a great heavine=
ss
seized him.
"Gudruda,&qu=
ot;
he said, "I am pressed down with sleep."
"That I am a=
lso,
Eric," she said. "My eyes shut of themselves and I can scarcely s=
tir
my limbs. Ah, Eric, we are fey indeed, and this is--death that comes!"=
"Perchance!&=
quot;
he said, speaking heavily.
"Eric!--wake,
Eric! Thou canst not move? Yet hearken to me--ah! this weight of sleep! Thou
lovest me, Eric!--is it not so?"
"Yea," =
he
answered.
"Now and for
ever thou lovest me--and wilt cleave to me always wherever we go?"
"Surely, swe=
et.
Oh, sweet, farewell!" he said, and his voice sounded like the voice of=
one
who speaks across the water.
"Farewell, E=
ric
Brighteyes!--my love--my love, farewell!" she answered very slowly, and
together they sank into a sleep that was heavy as death.
Now Gizur, Ospaka=
r's
son, and Swanhild, Atli's widow, rode fast and hard from Mosfell, giving no
rest to their horses, and with them rode that thrall who had showed the sec=
ret
path to Gizur. They stayed a while on Horse-Head Heights till the moon rose.
Now one path led hence to the shore that is against the Westmans, where
Gudruda's ship lay bound. Then Swanhild turned to the thrall. Her beautiful
face was fierce and she had said few words all this while, but in her heart
raged a fire of hate and jealousy which shone through her blue eyes.
"Listen,&quo=
t;
she said to the thrall. "Thou shalt ride hence to the bay where the sh=
ip
of Gudruda the Fair lies at anchor. Thou knowest where our folk are in hidi=
ng.
Thou shalt speak thus to them. Before it is dawn they must take boats and b=
oard
Gudruda's ship and search her. And, if they find Eric, the outlaw, aboard, =
they
shall slay him, if they may."
"That will b=
e no
easy task," said the thrall.
"And if they
find Gudruda they shall keep her prisoner. But if they find neither the one=
nor
the other, they shall do this: they shall drive the crew ashore, killing as=
few
as may be, and burn the ship."
"It is an ill
deed thus to burn another's ship," said Gizur.
"Good or ill=
, it
shall be done," answered Swanhild fiercely. "Thou art a lawman, a=
nd
well canst thou meet the suit; moreover Gudruda has wedded an outlaw and sh=
all
suffer for her sin. Now go, and see thou tarry not, or thy back shall pay t=
he
price."
The man rode away
swiftly. Then Gizur turned to Swanhild, asking: "Whither, then, go
we?"
"I have said=
to
Middalhof."
"That is into
the wolf's den, if Eric and Skallagrim are there," he answered: "I
have little chance against the two of them."
"Nay, nor
against the one, Gizur. Why, if Eric's right hand were hewn from him, and he
stood unarmed, he would still slay thee with his left, as, swordless, he sl=
ew
Ospakar thy father. Yet I shall find a way to come at him, if he is
there."
Then they rode on,
and Gizur's heart was heavy for fear of Eric and Skallagrim the Baresark. So
fiercely did they ride that, within one hour after midnight, they were at t=
he
stead of Middalhof.
"We will lea=
ve
the horses here in the field," said Swanhild.
So they leaped to
earth and, tying the reins of the horses together, left them to feed on the
growing grass. Then they crept into the yard and listened. Presently there =
came
a sound of horses stamping in the far corner of the yard. They went thither,
and there they found a horse and two geldings saddled, but with the bits
slipped, and on the horse was such a saddle as women use.
"Eric
Brighteyes, Skallagrim Lambstail, and Gudruda the Fair," whispered Swa=
nhild,
naming the horses and laughing evilly--"the birds are within! Now to s=
nare
them."
"Were it not
best to meet them by the ship?" asked Gizur.
"Nay, thou f=
ool;
if once Eric and Skallagrim are back to back, and Whitefire is aloft, how m=
any
shall be dead before they are down, thinkest thou? We shall not find them
sleeping twice."
"It is shame=
ful
to slay sleeping men," said Gizur.
"They are
outlaws," she answered. "Hearken, Ospakar's son. Thou sayest thou
dost love me and wouldst wed me: know this, that if thou dost fail me now, I
will never look upon thy face again, but will name thee Niddering in all me=
n's
ears."
Now Gizur loved
Swanhild much, for she had thrown her glamour on him as once she did on Atl=
i,
and he thought of her day and night. For there was this strange thing about
Swanhild that, though she was a witch and wicked, being both fair and gentle
she could lead all men, except Eric, to love her.
But of men she lo=
ved
Eric alone.
Then Gizur held h=
is
peace; but Swanhild spoke again:
"It will be =
of
no use to try the doors, for they are strong. Yet when I was a child before=
now
I have passed in and out the house at night by the store-room casement. Fol=
low
me, Gizur." Then she crept along the shadow of the wall, for she knew =
it
every stone, till she came to the store-room, and lo! the shutter stood ope=
n,
and through it the moonlight poured into the chamber. Swanhild lifted her h=
ead
above the sill and looked, then started back.
"Hush!"=
she
said, "Skallagrim lies asleep within."
"Pray the Go=
ds
he wake not!" said Gizur beneath his breath, and turned to go. But
Swanhild caught him by the arm; then gently raised her head and looked agai=
n,
long and steadily. Presently she turned and laughed softly.
"Things go w=
ell
for us," she said; "the sot lies drunk. We have nothing to fear f=
rom
him. He lies drunk in a pool of ale."
Then Gizur looked.
The moonlight poured into the little room, and by it he saw the great shape=
of
Skallagrim. His head was thrown back, his mouth was wide. He snored loudly =
in
his drunken sleep, and all about him ran the brown ale, for the spigot of t=
he
cask lay upon the floor. In his left hand was a horn cup, but in his right =
he
still grasped his axe.
"Now we must
enter," said Swanhild. Gizur hung back, but she sprang upon the sill
lightly as a fox, and slid thence into the store-room. Then Gizur must foll=
ow,
and presently he stood beside her in the room, and at their feet lay drunken
Skallagrim. Gizur looked first at his sword, then on the Baresark, and last=
ly
at Swanhild.
"Nay," =
she
whispered, "touch him not. Perchance he would cry out--and we seek hig=
her
game. He has that within him which will hold him fast for a while. Follow w=
here
I shall lead."
She took his hand
and, gliding through the doorway, passed along the passage till she came to=
the
great hall. Swanhild could see well in the dark, and moreover she knew the
road. Presently they stood in the empty hall. The fire had burnt down, but =
two
embers yet glowed upon the hearth, like red and angry eyes.
For a while Swanh=
ild
stood still listening, but there was nothing to hear. Then she drew near to=
the
shut bed where Gudruda slept, and, with her ear to the curtain, listened on=
ce
more. Gizur came with her, and as he came his foot struck against a bench a=
nd
stirred it. Now Swanhild heard murmured words and the sound of kisses. She
started back, and fury filled her heart. Gizur also heard the voice of Eric,
saying: "I will rise." Then he would have fled, but Swanhild caug=
ht
him by the arm.
"Fear not,&q=
uot;
she whispered, "they shall soon sleep sound."
He felt her stret=
ch
out her arms and presently he saw this wonderful thing: the eyes of Swanhild
glowing in the darkness as the embers glowed upon the hearth. Now they glow=
ed
brightly, so brightly that he could see the outstretched arms and the hard
white face beneath them, and now they grew dim, of a sudden to shine bright
again. And all the while she hissed words through her clenched teeth.
Thus she hissed,
fierce and low:
"Gudruda, Sister mine, hearken =
and
sleep! By the bond of blood I =
bid
thee sleep!-- By the strength =
that
is in me I bid thee sleep!-- S=
leep!
sleep sound!
"Eric Brighteyes, hearken and s=
leep! By the bond of sin I charge thee sle=
ep!-- By the blood of Atli I charge thee,
sleep!-- Sleep! sleep sound!&q=
uot;
Then thrice she
tossed her hands aloft, saying:
"From love to sleep! From sleep to death! From death to Hela! Say, lovers, where shall ye kiss
again?"
Then the light we=
nt
out of her eyes and she laughed low. And ever as she whispered, the spoken
words of the two in the shut bed grew fainter and more faint, till at length
they died away, and a silence fell upon the place.
"Thou hast no
cause to fear the sword of Eric, Gizur," she said. "Nothing will =
wake
him now till daylight comes."
"Thou art
awesome!" answered Gizur, for he shook with fear. "Look not on me
with those flaming eyes, I pray thee!"
"Fear not,&q=
uot;
she said, "the fire is out. Now to the work."
"What must we
do, then?"
" Thou must do this. Thou must enter and slay
Eric."
"That I can
not--that I will not!" said Gizur.
She turned and lo=
oked
at him, and lo! her eyes began to flame again--upon his eyes they seemed to
burn.
"Thou wilt d=
o as
I bid thee," she said. "With Eric's sword thou shalt slay Eric, e=
lse
I will curse thee where thou art, and bring such evil on thee as thou knowe=
st
not of."
"Look not so,
Swanhild," he said. "Lead on--I come."
Now they creep in=
to
the shut chamber of Gudruda. It is so dark that they can see nothing, and
nothing can they hear except the heavy breathing of the sleepers.
This is to be tol=
d,
that at this time Swanhild had it in her mind to kill, not Eric but Gudruda,
for thus she would smite the heart of Brighteyes. Moreover, she loved Eric,=
and
while he lived she might yet win him; but Eric dead must be Eric lost. But =
on
Gudruda she would be bitterly avenged--Gudruda, who, for all her scheming, =
had
yet been a wife to Eric!
Now they stand by=
the
bed. Swanhild puts out her hand, draws down the clothes, and feels the brea=
st
of Gudruda beneath, for Gudruda slept on the outside of the bed.
Then she searches=
by
the head of the bed and finds Whitefire which hung there, and draws the swo=
rd.
"Here lies E=
ric,
on the outside," she says to Gizur, "and here is Whitefire. Strike
and strike home, leaving Whitefire in the wound."
Gizur takes the s=
word
and lifts it. He is sore at heart that he must do such a coward deed; but t=
he
spell of Swanhild is upon him, and he may not flinch from it. Then a thought
takes him and he also puts down his hand to feel. It lights upon Gudruda's
golden hair, that hangs about her breast and falls from the bed to the grou=
nd.
"Here is wom=
an's
hair," he whispers.
"No,"
Swanhild answers, "it is Eric's hair. The hair of Eric is long, as thou
hast seen."
Now neither of th=
em
knows that Gudruda cut Eric's locks when he lay sick on Mosfell, though
Swanhild knows well that it is not Brighteyes whom she bids Gizur slay.
Then Gizur, Ospak=
ar's
son, lifts the sword, and the faint starlight struggling into the chamber
gathers and gleams upon the blade. Thrice he lifts it, and thrice it draws =
it
back. Then with an oath he strikes--and drives it home with all his strengt=
h!
From the bed bene=
ath
there comes one long sigh and a sound as of limbs trembling against the
bed-gear. Then all is still.
"It is
done!" he says faintly.
Swanhild puts down
her hand once more. Lo! it is wet and warm. Then she bends herself and look=
s,
and behold! the dead eyes of Gudruda glare up into her eyes. She can see th=
em
plainly, but none know what she read there. At the least it was something t=
hat
she loved not, for she reels back against the panelling, then falls upon the
floor.
Presently, while
Gizur stands as one in a dream, she rises, saying: "I am avenged of the
death of Atli. Let us hence!--ah! let us hence swiftly! Give me thy hand,
Gizur, for I am faint!"
So Gizur gives her
his hand and they pass thence. Presently they stand in the store-room, and
there lies Skallagrim, still plunged in his drunken sleep.
"Must I do m=
ore
murder?" asks Gizur hoarsely.
"Nay,"
Swanhild says. "I am sick with blood. Leave the knave."
They pass out by =
the
casement into the yard and so on till they find their horses.
"Lift me, Gi=
zur;
I can no more," says Swanhild.
He lifts her to t=
he
saddle.
"Whither
away?" he asks.
"To Coldback,
Gizur, and thence to cold Death."
Thus did Gudruda,
Eric's bride and Asmund's daughter, the fairest woman who ever lived in
Iceland, die on her marriage night by the hand of Gizur, Ospakar's son, and
through the hate and witchcraft of Swanhild the Fatherless, her half-sister=
.
=
XXX - HOW THE DAWN CAME=
span>
The dawn broke ov=
er
Middalhof. Slowly the light gathered in the empty hall, it crept slowly into
the little chamber where Eric slept, and Gudruda slept also with a deeper
sleep.
Now the two women
came from their chamber at the far end of the hall, and drew near the heart=
h,
shivering, for the air was cold. They knelt by the fire, blowing at the emb=
ers
till the sticks they cast upon them crackled to a blaze.
"It seems th=
at
Gudruda is not yet gone," said one to the other. "I thought she
should ride away with Eric before the dawn."
"Newly wed l=
ie
long abed!" laughed the other.
"I am glad to
see the blessed light," said the first woman, "for last night I
dreamed that once again this hall ran red with blood, as at the marriage-fe=
ast
of Ospakar."
"Ah,"
answered the other, "it will be well for the south when Eric Brighteyes
and Gudruda are gone over sea, for their loves have brought much bloodshed =
upon
the land."
"Well,
indeed!" sighed the first. "Had Asmund the Priest never found Gro=
a,
Ran's gift, singing by the sea, Valhalla had not been so full to-day. Minde=
st
thou the day he brought her here?"
"I remember = it well," she answered, "though I was but a girl at the time. Still, when I saw those dark eyes of hers--just such eyes as Swanhild's!--I knew h= er for a witch, as all Finn women are. It is an evil world: my husband is dead= by the sword; dead are both my sons, fighting for Eric; dead is Unna, Thorod's daughter; Asmund, my lord, is dead, and dead is Björn; and now Gudruda the Fair, whom I have rocked to sleep, leaves us to go over sea. I may not go w= ith her, for my daughter's sake; yet I almost wish that I too were dead."<= o:p>
"That will c=
ome
soon enough," said the other, who was young and fair.
Now the witch-sle=
ep
began to roll from Eric's heart, though his eyes were not yet open. But the
talk of the women echoed in his ears, and the words " dead! " &qu=
ot; dead!
" " dead! " fell heavily on his slumbering sense. At length =
he
opened his eyes, only to shut them again, because of a bright gleam of light
that ran up and down something at his side. Heavily he wondered what this m=
ight
be, that shone so keen and bright--that shone like a naked sword.
Now he looked aga=
in.
Yes, it was a sword which stood by him upon the bed, and the golden hilt was
like the hilt of Whitefire. He lifted up his hand to touch it, thinking tha=
t he
dreamed. Lo! his hand and arm were red!
Then he remembere=
d,
and the thought of Gudruda flashed through his heart. He sat up, gazing down
into the shadow at his side.
Presently the wom=
en
at the fire heard a sound as of a great man falling to earth.
"What is tha=
t noise?"
said one.
"Eric leaping
from his bed," answered the other. "He has slept too long, as we =
have
also."
As they spoke the
curtain of the shut bed was pushed away, and through it staggered Eric in h=
is
night-gear, and lo! the left side of it was red. His eyes were wide with
horror, his mouth was open, and his face was white as ice.
He stopped, looki=
ng
at them, made as though to speak, and could not. Then, while they shrank fr=
om
him in terror, he turned, and, walking like a drunken man, staggered from t=
he
hall down that passage which led to the store-chamber. The door stood wide,=
the
shutter was wide, and on the floor, soaked in the dregs of ale, Skallagrim =
yet
lay snoring, his axe in one hand and a cup in the other.
Eric looked and
understood.
"Awake,
drunkard!" he cried, in so terrible a voice that the room shook. "=
;Awake,
and look upon thy work!"
Skallagrim sat up,
yawning.
"Forsooth, my
head swims," he said. "Give me ale, I am thirsty."
"Never wilt =
thou
look on ale again, Skallagrim, when thou hast seen that which I have to
show!" said Eric, in the same dread voice.
Then Skallagrim r=
ose
to his feet and gaped upon him.
"What means
this, lord? Is it time to ride? and say! why is thy shirt red with blood?&q=
uot;
"Follow me,
drunkard, and look upon thy work!" Eric said again.
Then Skallagrim g=
rew
altogether sober, and grasping his axe, followed after Brighteyes, sore afr=
aid
of what he might see.
They went down the
passage, past the high seat of the hall, till they came to the curtain of t=
he
shut bed; and after them followed the women. Eric seized the curtain in his
hand, rent it from its fastenings, and cast it on the ground. Now the light
flowed in and struck upon the bed. It fell upon the bed, it fell upon
Whitefire's hilt and ran along the blade, it gleamed on a woman's snowy bre=
ast
and golden hair, and shone in her staring eyes--a woman who lay stiff and c=
old
upon the bed, the great sword fixed within her heart!
"Look upon t=
hy
work, drunkard!" Eric cried again, while the women who peeped behind s=
ent their
long wail of woe echoing down the panelled hall.
"Hearken!&qu=
ot;
said Eric: "while thou didst lie wallowing in thy swine's sleep, foes
crept across thy carcase, and this is their handiwork:--yonder she lies who=
was
my bride!--now is Gudruda the Fair a death-wife who last night was my bride!
This is thy work, drunkard! and now what meed for thee?"
Skallagrim looked.
Then he spoke in a hoarse slow voice:
"What meed,
lord? But one--death!"
Then with one han=
d he
covered his eyes and with the other held out his axe to Eric Brighteyes.
Eric took the axe,
and while the women ran thence screaming, he whirled it thrice about his he=
ad.
Then he smote down towards the skull of Skallagrim, but as he smote it seem=
ed
to him that a voice whispered in his ear: " Thy oath! "--and he
remembered that he had sworn to slay no more, save for his own life's sake.=
The mighty blow w=
as
falling and he might only do this--loose the axe before it clove Skallagrim=
in
twain. He loosed and away the great axe flew. It passed over the head of
Skallagrim, and sped like light across the wide hall, till it crashed throu=
gh
the panelling on the further side, and buried itself to the haft in the wall
beyond.
"It is not f=
or
me to kill thee, drunkard! Go, die in thy drink!"
"Then I will
kill myself!" cried the Baresark, and, rushing across the hall he tore=
the
great axe from its bed.
"Hold!"
said Eric; "perhaps there is yet a deed for thee to do. Then thou maye=
st
die, if it pleases thee."
"Ay," s= aid Skallagrim coming back, "perchance there is still a deed to do!"<= o:p>
And, flinging down
the axe, Skallagrim Lambstail the Baresark fell upon the floor and wept.
But Eric did not
weep. Only he drew Whitefire from the heart of Gudruda and looked at it.
"Thou art a
strange sword, Whitefire," he said, "who slayest both friend and =
foe!
Shame on thee, Whitefire! We swore our oath on thee, Whitefire, and thou ha=
st
cut its chain! Now I am minded to shatter thee." And as Eric looked on=
the
great blade, lo! it hummed strangely in answer.
"'First must
thou be the death of some,' thou sayest? Well, maybe, Whitefire! But never =
yet
didst thou drink so sweet a life as hers who now lies dead, nor ever shalt
again."
Then he sheathed =
the
sword, but neither then nor afterwards did he wipe the blood of Gudruda from
its blade.
"Last night
a-marrying--to-day a-burying," said Eric, and he called to the women to
bring spades. Then, having clothed himself, he went to the centre of the ha=
ll,
and, brushing away the sand, broke the hard clay-flooring, dealing great bl=
ows
on it with an axe. Now Skallagrim, seeing his purpose, came to him and took=
one
of the spades, and together they laboured in silence till they had dug a gr=
ave
a fathom deep.
"Here,"
said Eric, "here, in thine own hall where thou wast born and lived,
Gudruda the Fair, thou shalt sleep at the last. And of Middalhof I say this:
that none shall live there henceforth. It shall be haunted and accursed till
the rafters rot and the walls fall in, making thy barrow, Gudruda."
Now this indeed c=
ame
to pass, for none have lived in Middalhof since the days of Gudruda the Fai=
r,
Asmund's daughter. It has been ruined these many years, and now it is but a
pile of stones.
When the grave was
dug, Eric washed himself and ate some food. Then he went in to where Gudruda
lay dead, and bade the women make her ready for burial. This they did. When=
she
was washed and clad in a clean white robe, Eric came to her, and with his o=
wn
hand bound the Hell-shoes on her feet and closed her eyes.
It was just then =
that
a man came who said that the people of Gizur and of Swanhild had burned
Gudruda's ship, driving the crew ashore.
"It is
well," said Eric. "We need the ship no more; now hath she whom it
should bear wings with which to fly." Then he went in and sat down on =
the
bed by the body of Gudruda, while Skallagrim crouched on the ground without,
tearing at his beard and muttering. For the fierce heart of Skallagrim was
broken because of that evil which his drunkenness had brought about.
All day Eric sat
thus, looking on his dead love's face, till the hour came round when he and
Gudruda had drunk the bride-cup. Then he rose and kissed dead Gudruda on the
lips, saying:
"I did not l=
ook
to part with thee thus, sweet! It is sad that thou shouldst have gone and l=
eft
me here. Natheless, I shall soon follow on thy path."
Then he called al=
oud:
"Art sober,
drunkard?"
Skallagrim came a=
nd
stood before him, saying nothing.
"Take thou t=
he
feet of her whom thou didst bring to death, and I will take her head."=
So they lifted up
Gudruda and bore her to the grave. Then Eric stood near the grave, and, tak=
ing
dead Gudruda in his arms, looked upon her face by the light of the fire and=
of
the candles that were set about.
He looked thrice,
then sang aloud:
"Long ago, when swept the snow-=
blast,
Close we clung and plighted tr=
oth. Many a year, through storm and sword=
-song,
Sore I strove to win thee, swe=
et! But last night I held thee, Fairest,=
Lock'd, a wife, in lover's arms.
"Hence I go to wreak thy murder=
. Hissing fire of flaming stead, Groan of spear-carles, wail of women=
, Soon shall startle through the night=
. Then on Mosfell, Kirtle-Wearer, Eric waits the face of Death. Freed from weary life and sorrow, Soon we'll kiss in Hela's halls!&quo=
t;
Then he laid her =
in
the grave, and, having shrouded a sheet over her, they filled it in togethe=
r,
hiding Gudruda the Fair from the sight of men for ever.
Afterwards Eric a=
rmed
himself, and this Skallagrim did also. Then he strode from the hall, and
Skallagrim followed him. In the yard those horses were still tied that shou=
ld
have carried them to the ship, and on one was the saddle of Gudruda. She had
ridden on this horse for many years, and loved it much, for it would follow=
her
like a dog. Eric looked at him, then said aloud:
"Gudruda may
need thee where she is, Blackmane," for so the horse was named. "=
At
the least, none shall ride thee more!" And he snatched the axe from the
hand of Skallagrim and slew the horse at a blow.
Then they rode aw=
ay,
heading for Coldback. The night was wild and windy, and the sky dark with
scudding clouds, through which the moon peeped out at times. Eric looked up,
then spoke to Skallagrim:
"A good nigh=
t for
burning, drunkard!"
"Ay, lord; t=
he
flames will fly briskly," answered Skallagrim.
"How many,
thinkest thou, walked over thee, drunkard, when thou didst lie yonder in the
ale?"
"I know
not," groaned Skallagrim; "but I found this in the soft earth wit=
hout:
the print of a man's and a woman's feet; and this on the hill side: the tra=
ck
of two horses ridden hard."
"Gizur and
Swanhild, drunkard," said Eric. "Swanhild cast us into deep sleep=
by
witchcraft, and Gizur dealt the blow. Better for him that he had never been
born than that he has lived to deal that coward's blow!"
Then they rode on,
and when midnight was a little while gone they came to the stead at Coldbac=
k.
Now this house was roofed with turves, and the windows were barred so that =
none
could pass through them. Also in the yard were faggots of birch and a stack=
of
hay.
Eric and Skallagr=
im
tied their horses in a dell that is to the north of the stead and crept up =
to
the house. All was still; but a fire burnt in the hall, and, looking throug=
h a
crack, Eric could see many men sleeping about it. Then he made signs to
Skallagrim and together, very silently, they fetched hay and faggots, piling
them against the north door of the house, for the wind blew from the north.=
Now
Eric spoke to Skallagrim, bidding him stand, axe in hand, by the south door,
and slay those who came out when the reek began to smart them: but he went
himself to fire the pile.
When Brighteyes h=
ad
made all things ready for the burning, it came into his mind that, perhaps,
Gizur and Swanhild were not in the house. But he would not hold his hand for
this, for he was mad with grief and rage. So once more he prepared for the
deed, when again he heard a voice in his ear--the voice of Gudruda, and it
seemed to say:
" Thine oath,
Eric! remember thine oath! "
Then he turned and
the rage went out of his heart.
"Let them se=
ek
me on Mosfell," he said, "I will not slay them secretly and by re=
ek,
the innocent and the guilty together." And he strode round the house to
where Skallagrim stood at the south door, axe aloft and watching.
"Does the fi=
re
burn, lord? I see no smoke," whispered Skallagrim.
"Nay, I have
made none. I will shed no more blood, except to save my life. I leave venge=
ance
to the Norns."
Now Skallagrim
thought that Brighteyes was mad, but he dared say nothing. So they went to
their horses, and when they found them, Eric rode back to the house. Presen=
tly
they drew near, and Eric told Skallagrim to stay where he was, and riding o=
n to
the house, smote heavy blows upon the door, just as Skallagrim once had
smitten, before Eric went up to Mosfell.
Now Swanhild lay =
in
her shut bed; but she could not sleep, because of what she saw in the eyes =
of
Gudruda. Little may she ever sleep again, for when she shuts her eyes once =
more
she sees that which was written in the dead eyes of Gudruda. So, as she lay,
she heard the blows upon the door, and sprang frightened from her bed. Now
there was tumult in the hall, for every man rose to his feet in fear, searc=
hing
for his weapons. Again the loud knocks came.
"It is the g=
host
of Eric!" cried one, for Gizur had given out that Eric was dead at his
hand in fair fight.
"Open!"
said Gizur, and they opened, and there, a little way from the door, sat
Brighteyes on a horse, great and shadowy to see, and behind him was Skallag=
rim
the Baresark.
"It is the g=
host
of Eric!" they cried again.
"I am no
ghost," said Brighteyes. "I am no ghost, ye men of Swanhild. Tell=
me:
is Gizur, the son of Ospakar, among you?"
"Gizur is
here," said a voice; "but he swore he slew thee last night."=
"Then he
lied," quoth Eric. "Gizur did not slay me--he murdered Gudruda the
Fair as she lay asleep at my side. See!" and he drew Whitefire from its
scabbard and held it in the rays of the moon that now shone out between the
cloud rifts. "Whitefire is red with Gudruda's blood--Gudruda slaughter=
ed
in her sleep by Gizur's coward hand!"
Now men murmured,=
for
this seemed to them the most shameful of all deeds. But Gizur, hearing, shr=
ank
back aghast.
"Listen
again!" said Eric. "I was minded but now to burn you all as ye sl=
ept--ay,
the firing is piled against the door. Still, I held my hand, for I have swo=
rn
to slay no more, except to save my life. Now I ride hence to Mosfell. Thith=
er
let Gizur come, Gizur the murderer, and Swanhild the witch, and with them a=
ll
who will. There I will give them greeting, and wipe away the blood of Gudru=
da
from Whitefire's blade."
"Fear not,
Eric," cried Swanhild, "I will come, and there thou mayst kill me=
, if
thou canst."
"Against the=
e,
Swanhild," said Eric, "I lift no hand. Do thy worst, I leave thee=
to
thy fate and the vengeance of the Norns. I am no woman-slayer. But to Gizur=
the
murderer I say, come."
Then he turned and
went, and Skallagrim went with him.
"Up, men, and
cut Eric down!" cried Gizur, seeking to cover his shame.
But no man stirre=
d.
=
XXXI - HOW ERIC SENT AWAY=
HIS
MEN FROM MOSFELL
Now Eric and
Skallagrim came to Mosfell in safety, and during all that ride Brighteyes s=
poke
no word. He rode in silence, and in silence Skallagrim rode after him. The
heart of Skallagrim was broken because of the sorrow which his drunkenness =
had
brought about, and the heart of Eric was buried in Gudruda's grave.
On Mosfell Eric f=
ound
four of his own men, two of whom had been among those that the people of Gi=
zur
and Swanhild had driven from Gudruda's ship before they fired her. For no f=
ight
had been made on the ship. There also he found Jon, who had been loosed from
his bands in the booth by one who heard his cries as he rode past. Now when=
Jon
saw Brighteyes, he told him all, and fell at Eric's feet and wept because he
had betrayed him in his fear.
But Eric spoke no
angry word to him. Stooping down he raised him, saying, "Thou wast nev=
er
overstout of heart, Jon, and thou art scarcely to be blamed because thou di=
dst
speak rather than die in torment, though perhaps some had chosen so to die =
and
not to speak. Now I am a luckless man, and all things happen as they are fa=
ted,
and the words of Atli come true, as was to be looked for. The Norns, against
whom none may stand, did but work their will through thy mouth, Jon; so gri=
eve
no more for that which cannot be undone."
Then he turned aw=
ay,
but Jon wept long and loudly.
That night Eric s=
lept
well and dreamed no dreams. But on the morrow he woke at dawn, and clothed =
himself
and ate. Then he called his men together, and with them Skallagrim. They ca=
me
and stood before him, and Eric, drawing Whitefire, leaned upon it and spoke=
:
"Hearken,
mates," he said: "I know this, that my hours are short and death
draws on. My years have been few and evil, and I cannot read the purpose of=
my
life. She whom I loved has been slain by the witchcraft of Swanhild and the
coward hand of Gizur the murderer, and I go to seek her where she waits. I =
am
very glad to go, for now I have no more joy in life, being but a luckless m=
an;
it is an ill world, friends, and all the ways are red with blood. I have sh=
ed
much blood, though but one life haunts me now at the last, and that is the =
life
of Atli the Earl, for he was no match for my might and he is dead because o=
f my
sin. With my own blood I will wash away the blood of Atli, and then I seek
another place, leaving nothing but a tale to be told in the ingle when fall=
the
winter snows. For to this end we all come at the last, and it matters littl=
e if
it find us at midday or at nightfall. We live in sorrow, we die in pain and
darkness: for this is the curse that the Gods have laid upon men and each m=
ust
taste it in his season. But I have sworn that no more men shall die for me.=
I
will fight the last great fight alone; for I know this: I shall not easily =
be
overcome, and with my fallen foes I will tread on Bifrost Bridge. Therefore,
farewell! When the bones of Eric Brighteyes lie in their barrow, or are pic=
ked
by ravens on the mountain side, Gizur will not trouble to hunt out those who
clung to him, if indeed Gizur shall live to tell the tale. Nor need ye fear=
the
hate of Swanhild, for she aims her spears at me alone. Go, therefore, and w=
hen I
am dead, do not forget me, and do not seek to avenge me, for Death the aven=
ger
of all will find them also."
Now Eric's men he=
ard
and groaned aloud, saying that they would die with him, for they loved Eric=
one
and all. Only Skallagrim said nothing.
Then Brighteyes s=
poke
again: "Hear me, comrades. If ye will not go, my blood will be on your
heads, for I will ride out alone, and meet the men of Gizur in the plain and
fall there fighting."
Then one by one t=
hey
crept away to seek their horses in the dell. And each man as he went came to
Eric and kissed his hand, then passed thence weeping. Jon was the last to g=
o,
except Skallagrim only, and he was so moved that he could not speak at all.=
It was this Jon w=
ho,
in after years, when he was grown very old, wandered from stead to stead
telling the deeds of Eric Brighteyes, and always finding a welcome because =
of
his tale, till at length, as he journeyed, he was overtaken by a snowstorm =
and
buried in a drift. For Jon, who lacked much, had this gift: he had a skald's
tongue. Men have always held that it was to the honour of Jon that he told =
the
tale thus, hiding nothing, seeing that some of it is against himself.
Now when all had
gone, Eric looked at Skallagrim, who still stood near him, axe in hand.
"Wherefore g=
oest
thou not, drunkard?" he said. "Surely thou wilt find ale and mead=
in
the vales or oversea. Here there is none. Hasten! I would be alone!"
Now the great bod=
y of
Skallagrim shook with grief and shame, and the red blood poured up beneath =
his
dark sin. Then he spoke in a thick voice:
"I did not t=
hink
to live to hear such words from the lips of Eric Brighteyes. They are well
earned, yet it is unmanly of thee, lord, thus to taunt one who loves thee. I
would sooner die as Swanhild said yonder thrall should die than live to lis=
ten
to such words. I have sinned against thee, indeed, and because of my sin my
heart is broken. Hast thou, then, never sinned that thou wouldst tear it li=
ving
from my breast as eagles tear a foundered horse? Think on thine own sins, E=
ric,
and pity mine! Taunt me thus once more or bid me go once more and I will go=
indeed!
I will go thus--on the edge of yonder gulf thou didst overcome me by thy na=
ked
might, and there I swore fealty to thee, Eric Brighteyes. Many a year have =
we
wandered side by side, and, standing back to back, have struck many a blow.=
I
am minded to do this: to stand by thee in the last great fight that draws on
and to die there with thee. I have loved no other man save thee, and I am t=
oo
old to seek new lords. Yet, if still thou biddest me, I will go thus. Where=
I
swore my oath to thee, there I will end it. For I will lay me down on the b=
rink
of yonder gulf, as once I lay when thy hand was at my throat, and call out =
that
thou art no more my lord and I am no more thy thrall. Then I will roll into=
the
depths beneath, and by this death of shame thou shalt be freed of me, Eric
Brighteyes."
Eric looked at the
great man--he looked long and sadly. Then he spoke:
"Skallagrim
Lambstail, thou hast a true heart. I too have sinned, and now I put away thy
sin, although Gudruda is dead through thee and I must die because of thee. =
Stay
by me if thou wilt and let us fall together."
Then Skallagrim c=
ame
to Eric, and, kneeling before him, took his hands and kissed them.
"Now I am on=
ce
more a man," he said, "and I know this: we two shall die such a g=
reat
death that it will be well to have lived to die it!" and he arose and
shouted:
"A! hai! A! hai! I see foes pas=
s in
pride! A! hai! A! hai! Valkyri=
es
ride the wind! Hear the song o=
f the
sword! Whitefire is aloft--alo=
ft! Bare is the axe of the Baresark!
"Laugh till shake the golden do=
ors; Heroes' feet are set on Bifrost,
Then Skallagrim
turned and went to clean his harness and the golden helm of Eric.
Now at Coldback G=
izur
spoke with Swanhild.
"Thou hast
brought the greatest shame upon me," he said, "for thou hast caus=
ed
me to slay a sleeping woman. Knowest thou that my own men will scarcely spe=
ak
with me? I have come to this evil pass, through love of thee, that I have s=
lain
a sleeping woman!"
"It was not =
my
fault that thou didst kill Gudruda," answered Swanhild; "surely I
thought it was Eric whom thy sword pierced! I have not sought thy love, Giz=
ur,
and I say this to thee: go, if thou wilt, and leave me alone!"
Now Gizur looked =
at
her, and was minded to go; but, as Swanhild knew well, she held him too fas=
t in
the net of her witcheries.
"I would go,=
if
I might go!" answered Gizur; "but I am bound to thee for good or
evil, since it is fated that I shall wed thee."
"Thou wilt n=
ever
wed me while Eric lives," said Swanhild.
Now she spoke thus
truthfully, and by chance, as it were, not as driving Gizur on to slay
Eric--for, now that Gudruda was dead, she was in two minds as to this matte=
r,
since, if she might, she still desired to take Eric to herself--but meaning
that while Eric lived she would wed no other man. But Gizur took it otherwi=
se.
"Eric shall
certainly die if I may bring it about," he answered, and went to speak
with his men.
Now all were gath=
ered
in the yard at Coldback, and that was a great company. But their looks were
heavy because of the shame that Gizur, Ospakar's son, had brought upon them=
by
the murder of Gudruda in her sleep.
"Hearken,
comrades!" said Gizur: "great shame is come upon me because of a =
deed
that I have done unwittingly, for I aimed at the eagle Eric and I have slain
the swan Gudruda."
Then a certain old
viking in the company, named Ketel, whom Gizur had hired for the slaying of
Eric, spoke:
"Man or woma=
n,
it is a niddering deed to kill folk in their sleep, Gizur! It is murder, an=
d no
less, and small luck can be hoped for from the stroke."
Now Gizur felt th=
at
his people looked on him askance and heavily, and knew that it would be har=
d to
show them that he was driven to this deed against his will, and by the
witchcraft of Swanhild. So, as was his nature, he turned to guile for shelt=
er,
like a fox to his hole, and spoke to them with the tongue of a lawman; for
Gizur had great skill in speech.
"That tale w=
as
not all true which Eric Brighteyes told you," he said. "He was mad
with grief, and moreover it seems that he slept, and only woke to find Gudr=
uda
dead. It came about thus: I stood with the lady Swanhild, and was about to =
call
aloud on Eric to arm himself and come forth and meet me face to face----&qu=
ot;
"Then, lord,
methinks thou hadst never met another foe," quoth the viking Ketel who=
had
spoken first.
"When of a
sudden," went on Gizur, taking no note of Ketel's words, "one clo=
thed
in white sprang from the bed and rushed on me. Then I, thinking that it was
Eric, lifted sword, not to smite, but to ward him away; but the linen-wearer
met the sword and fell down dead. Then I fled, fearing lest men should wake=
and
trap us, and that is all the tale. It was no fault of mine if Gudruda died =
upon
the sword."
Thus he spoke, bu=
t still
men looked doubtfully upon him, for his eye was the eye of a liar--and Eric=
, as
they knew, did not lie.
"It is hard =
to
find the truth between lawman's brain and tongue," said the old viking
Ketel. "Eric is no lawman, but a true man, and he sang another song. I
would slay Eric indeed, for between him and me there is a blood-feud, since=
my
brother died at his hand when, with Whitefire for a crook, Brighteyes drove
armed men like sheep down the hall of Middalhof--ay and swordless, slew
Ospakar. Yet I say that Eric is a true man, and, whether or no thou art tru=
e,
Gizur the Lawman, that thou knowest best--thou and Swanhild the Fatherless,
Groa's daughter. If thou didst slay Gudruda as thou tellest, say, how come
Gudruda's blood on Whitefire's blade? How did it chance, Gizur, that thou
heldest Whitefire in thy hand and not thine own sword? Now I tell thee this:
either thou shalt go up against Eric and clear thyself by blows, or I leave
thee; and methinks there are others among this company who will do the same=
, for
we have no wish to be partners with murderers and their wickedness."
"Ay, a good
word!" said many who stood by. "Let Gizur go up with us to Mosfel=
l,
and there stand face to face with Eric and clear himself by blows."
"I ask no
more," said Gizur; "we will ride to-night."
"But much mo=
re
shalt thou get, liar," quoth Ketel to himself, "for that hour when
thou lookest once again on Whitefire shall be thy last!"
So Gizur and Swan=
hild
made ready to go up against Eric. That day they rode away with a great comp=
any,
a hundred and one in all, and this was their plan. They sent six men with t=
hat
thrall who had shown them the secret path, bidding him guide them to the
mountain-top. Then, when they were come thither, and heard the shouts of th=
ose
who sought to gain the platform from the south, they were to watch till Eric
and his folk came out from the cave, and shoot them with arrows from above =
or
crush them with stones. But if perchance Eric left the platform and came to
meet his foes in the narrow pass, then they must let themselves down with r=
opes
from the height above, and, creeping after him round the rock, must smite h=
im
in the back. Moreover, in secret, Gizur promised a great reward of ten hund=
reds
in silver to him who should kill Eric, for he did not long to stand face to
face with him alone. Swanhild also in secret made promise of reward to those
who should bring Eric to her, bound, but living; and she bade them do this-=
-to
bear him down with shields and tie him with ropes.
So they rode away,
the seven who should climb the mountain from behind going first, and on the
morrow morning they crossed the sand and came to Mosfell.
=
XXXII - HOW ERIC AND
SKALLAGRIM GREW FEY
Now the night came
down upon Mosfell, and of all nights this was the strangest. The air was qu=
iet
and heavy, yet no rain fell. It was so silent, moreover, that, did a stone =
slip
upon the mountain side or a horse neigh far off on the plains, the sound of=
it
crept up the fell and was echoed from the crags.
Eric and Skallagr=
im
sat together on the open space of rock that is before the cave, and great
heaviness and fear came into their hearts, so that they had no desire to sl=
eep.
"Methinks the
night is ghost-ridden," said Eric, "and I am fey, for I grow cold,
and it seems to me that one strokes my hair."
"It is
ghost-ridden, lord," answered Skallagrim. "Trolls are abroad, and=
the
God-kind gather to see Eric die."
For a while they =
sat
in silence, then suddenly the mountain heaved up gently beneath them. Thric=
e it
seemed to heave like a woman's breast, and left them frightened.
"Now the
dwarf-folk come from their caves," quoth Skallagrim, "and great d=
eeds
may be looked for, since they are not drawn to the upper earth by a little
thing."
Then once more th=
ey
sat silent; and thick darkness came down upon the mountain, hiding the star=
s.
"Look,"
said Eric of a sudden, and he pointed to Hecla.
Skallagrim looked,
and lo! the snowy dome of Hecla was aglow with a rosy flame like the light =
of
dawn.
"Winter
lights," said Lambstail, shuddering.
"Death
lights!" answered Eric. "Look again!"
They looked, and
behold! in the rosy glow there sat three giant forms of fire, and their sha=
pes
were the shapes of women. Before them was a loom of blackness that stretched
from earth to sky, and they wove at it with threads of flame. They were
splendid and terrible to see. Their hair streamed behind them like meteor
flames, their eyes shone like lightning, and their breasts gleamed like the
polished bucklers of the gods. They wove fiercely at the loom of blackness,=
and
as they wove they sang. The voice of the one was as the wind whistling thro=
ugh
the pines; the voice of the other was as the sound of rain hissing on deep
waters; and the voice of the third was as the moan of the sea. They wove fe=
arfully
and they sang loudly, but what they sang might not be known. Now the web gr=
ew
and the woof grew, and a picture came upon the loom--a great picture writte=
n in
fire.
Behold! it was the
semblance of a storm-awakened sea, and a giant ship fled before the gale--a
dragon of war, and in the ship were piled the corses of men, and on these l=
ay
another corse, as one lies upon a bed. They looked, and the face of the cor=
se
grew bright. It was the face of Eric, and his head rested upon the dead hea=
rt
of Skallagrim.
Clinging to each =
other,
Eric and Skallagrim saw the sight of fear that was written on the loom of t=
he
Norns. They saw it for a breath. Then, with a laugh like the wail of wolves,
the shapes of fire sprang up and rent the web asunder. Then the first passed
upward to the sky, the second southward towards Middalhof, but the third sw=
ept
over Mosfell, so that the brightness of her flaming form shone on the rock
where they sat by the cave, and the lightning of her eyes was mirrored in t=
he
byrnie of Skallagrim and on Eric's golden helm. She swept past, pointing
downwards as she went, and lo! she was gone, and once more darkness and sil=
ence
lay upon the earth.
Now this sight was
seen of Jon the thrall also, and he told it in his story of the deeds of Er=
ic.
For Jon lay hid in a secret place on Mosfell, waiting for tidings of what c=
ame
to pass.
For a while Eric =
and
Skallagrim clung to each other. Then Skallagrim spoke.
"We have seen
the Valkyries," he said.
"Nay,"
answered Eric, "we have seen the Norns--who are come to warn us of our
doom! We shall die to-morrow."
"At the
least," said Skallagrim, "we shall not die alone: we had a goodly=
bed
on yonder goblin ship, and all of our own slaying methinks. It is not so il=
l to
die thus, lord!"
"Not so
ill!" said Eric; "and yet I am weary of blood and war, of glory a=
nd
of my strength. Now I desire rest alone. Light fire--I can bear this darkne=
ss
no longer; the marrow freezes in my bones."
"Fire can be
seen of foes," said Skallagrim.
"It matters
little now," said Eric, "we are feyfolk."
So Skallagrim lig=
hted
the fire, piling much brushwood and dry turf over it, till presently it bur=
nt
up brightly, throwing light on all the space of rock, and heavy shadows aga=
inst
the cliff behind. They sat thus a while in the light of the flames, looking=
towards
the deep gulf, till suddenly there came a sound as of one who climbed the g=
ulf.
"Who comes n=
ow,
climbing where no man may pass?" cried Eric, seizing Whitefire and
springing to his feet. Presently he sank down again with white face and sta=
ring
eyes, and pointed at the edge of the cliff. And as he pointed, the neck of a
man rose in the shadow above the brink, and the hands of a man grasped the
rock. But there was no head on the neck. The shape of the headless man drew
itself slowly over the brink, it walked slowly into the light towards the f=
ire,
then sat itself down in the glare of the flames, which shrank away from it =
as
from a draught of wind. Pale with terror, Eric and Skallagrim looked on the
headless thing and knew it. It was the wraith of the Baresark that Brightey=
es
had slain--the first of all the men he slew.
"It is my ma=
te,
Eric, whom thou didst kill years ago and whose severed head spoke with
thee!" gasped Skallagrim.
"It is he, s=
ure
enough!" said Eric; "but where may his head be?"
"Perchance t=
he
head will come," answered Skallagrim. "He is an evil sight to see,
surely. Say, lord, shall I fall upon him, though I love not the task?"=
"Nay,
Skallagrim, let him bide; he does but come to warn us of our fate. Moreover,
ghosts can only be laid in one way--by the hewing off of the head and the
laying of it at the thigh. But this one has no head to hew."
Now as he spoke t=
he
headless man turned his neck as though to look. Once more there came the so=
und
of feet and lo! men marched in from the darkness on either side. Eric and
Skallagrim looked up and knew them. They were those of Ospakar's folk whom =
they
had slain on Horse-Head Heights; all their wounds were on them and in front=
of
them marched Mord, Ospakar's son. The ghosts gazed upon Eric and Skallagrim
with cold dead eyes, then they too sat down by the fire. Now once more there
came the sound of feet, and from every side men poured in who had died at t=
he hands
of Eric and Skallagrim. First came those who fell on that ship of Ospakar's
which Eric sank by Westmans; then the crew of the Raven who had perished up=
on
the sea-path. Even as the man died, so did each ghost come. Some had been
drowned and their harness dripped water! Some had died of spear-thrusts and=
the
spears were yet fixed in their breasts! Some had fallen beneath the flash of
Whitefire and the weight of the axe of Skallagrim, and there they sat, look=
ing
on their wide wounds!
Then came more and
more. There were those whom Eric and Skallagrim had slain upon the seas, th=
ose
who had fallen before them in the English wars, and all that company who had
been drowned in the waters of the Pentland Firth when the witchcraft of
Swanhild had brought the Gudruda to her wreck.
"Now here we
have a goodly crew," said Eric at length. "Is it done, thinkest t=
hou,
or will Mosfell send forth more dead?"
As he spoke the
wraith of a grey-headed man drew near. He had but one arm, for the other was
hewn from him, and the byrnie on his left side was red with blood.
"Welcome, Ea=
rl
Atli!" cried Eric. "Sit thou over against me, who to-morrow shall=
be
with thee."
The ghost of the = Earl seated itself and looked on Eric with sad eyes, but it spake never a word.<= o:p>
Then came another
company, and at their head stalked black Ospakar.
"These be th=
ey
who died at Middalhof," cried Eric. "Welcome, Ospakar! that
marriage-feast of thine went ill!"
"Now methink=
s we
are overdone with trolls," said Skallagrim; "but see! here come
more."
As he spoke, Hall=
of
Lithdale came, and with him Koll the Half-witted, and others. And so it wen=
t on
till all the men whom Eric and Skallagrim had slain, or who had died becaus=
e of
them, or at their side, were gathered in deep ranks before them.
"Now it is
surely done," said Eric.
"There is ye=
t a
space," said Skallagrim, pointing to the other side of the fire, "=
;and
Hell holds many dead."
Even as the words
left his lips there came a noise of the galloping of horse's hoofs, and one
clad in white rode up. It was a woman, for her golden hair flowed down about
her white arms. Then she slid from the horse and stood in the light of the
fire, and behold! her white robe was red with blood, a great sword was set =
in
her heart, and the face and eyes were the face and eyes of Gudruda the Fair,
and the horse she rode was Blackmane, that Eric had slain.
Now when Brightey=
es
saw her he gave a great cry.
"Greeting,
sweet!" he said. "I am no longer afraid, since thou comest to bea=
r me
company. Thou art dear to my sight--ay even in yon death-sheet. Greeting,
sweet, my May! I laid thee stiff and cold in the earth at Middalhof, but, l=
ike
a loving wife, thou hast burst thy bonds, and art come to save me from the =
grip
of trolls. Thou art welcome, Gudruda, Asmund's daughter! Come, wife, sit th=
ou
at my side."
The ghost of Gudr=
uda
spake no word. She walked through the fire towards him, and the flames went=
out
beneath her feet, to burn up again when she had passed. Then she sat down o=
ver
against Eric and looked on him with wide and tender eyes. Thrice he stretch=
ed
out his arms to clasp her, but thrice their strength left them and they fell
back to his side. It was as though they struck a wall of ice and were numbe=
d by
the bitter cold.
"Look, here =
are
more," groaned Skallagrim.
Then Eric looked,=
and
lo! the empty space to the left of the fire was filled with shadowy shapes =
like
shapes of mist. Amongst them was Gizur, Ospakar's son, and many a man of his
company. There, too, was Swanhild, Groa's daughter, and a toad nestled in h=
er
breast. She looked with wide eyes upon the eyes of dead Gudruda's ghost, th=
at
seemed not to see her, and a stare of fear was set on her lovely face. Nor =
was
this all; for there, before that shadowy throng, stood two great shapes cla=
d in
their harness, and one was the shape of Eric and one the shape of Skallagri=
m.
Thus, being yet
alive, did these two look upon their own wraiths!
Then Eric and
Skallagrim cried out aloud and their brains swam and their senses left them=
, so
that they swooned.
When they opened
their eyes and life came back to them the fire was dead, and it was day. Nor
was there any sign of that company which had been gathered on the rock befo=
re
them.
"Skallagrim,=
"
quoth Eric, "it seems that I have dreamed a strange dream--a most stra=
nge
dream of Norns and trolls!"
"Tell me thy
dream, lord," said Skallagrim.
So Eric told all =
the
vision, and the Baresark listened in silence.
"It was no
dream, lord," said Skallagrim, "for I myself have seen the same
things. Now this is in my mind, that yonder sun is the last that we shall s=
ee,
for we have beheld the death-shadows. All those who were gathered here last
night wait to welcome us on Bifrost Bridge. And the mist-shapes who sat the=
re,
amongst whom our wraiths were numbered, are the shapes of those who shall d=
ie
in the great fight to-day. For days are fled and we are sped!"
"I would not
have it otherwise," said Eric. "We have been greatly honoured of =
the
Gods, and of the ghost-kind that are around us and above us. Now let us make
ready to die as becomes men who have never turned back to blow, for the end=
of
the story should fit the beginning, and of us there is a tale to tell."=
;
"A good word,
lord," answered Skallagrim: "I have struck few strokes to be sham=
ed
of, and I do not fear to tread Bifrost Bridge in thy company. Now we will w=
ash
ourselves and eat, so that our strength may be whole in us."
So they washed
themselves with water, and ate merrily, and for the first time for many mon=
ths
Eric was merry. For now that the end was at hand his heart grew light within
him. And when they had put the desire of food from them, and buckled on the=
ir
harness, they looked out from their mountain height, and saw a cloud of dust
rise in the desert plain of black sand beneath, and through it the sheen of
spears.
"Here come t=
hose
of whom, if there is truth in visions, some few shall never go back
again," said Eric. "Now, what counsel hast thou, Skallagrim? Where
shall we meet them? Here on the space of rock, or yonder in the deep way of=
the
cliff?"
"My counsel =
is
that we meet them here," said Skallagrim, "and cut them down one =
by
one as they try to turn the rock. They can scarcely come at us to slay us h=
ere
so long as our arms have strength to smite."
"Yet they wi=
ll
come, though I know not how," answered Eric, "for I am sure of th=
is,
that our death lies before us. Here, then, we will meet them."
Now the cloud of =
dust
drew nearer, and they saw that this was a great company which came up again=
st
them. At the foot of the fell the men stayed and rested a while, and it was=
not
till afternoon that they began to climb the mountain.
"Night will =
be
at hand before the game is played," said Skallagrim. "See, they c=
limb
slowly, saving their strength, and yonder among them is Swanhild in a purple
cloak."
"Ay, night w=
ill
be at hand, Skallagrim--a last long night! A hundred to two--the odds are
heavy; yet some shall wish them heavier. Now let us bind on our helms."=
;
Meanwhile Gizur a=
nd
his folk crept up the paths from below. Now that thrall who knew the secret=
way
had gone on with six chosen men, and already they climbed the watercourse a=
nd
drew near to the flat crest of the fell. But Eric and Skallagrim knew nothi=
ng
of this. So they sat down by the turning place that is over the gulf and
waited, singing of the taking of the Raven and of the slaying in the stead =
at
Middalhof, and telling tales of deeds that they had done. And the thrall and
his six men climbed on till at length they gained the crest of the fell, an=
d, looking
over, saw Eric and Skallagrim beneath them.
"The birds a=
re
in the snare, and hark! they sing," said the thrall; "now bring r=
ocks
and be silent."
But Gizur and his
people, having learned that Eric and Skallagrim were alone upon the mountai=
n,
pushed on.
"We have not
much to fear from two men," said Gizur.
"That we sha=
ll
learn presently," answered Swanhild. "I tell thee this, that I saw
strange sights last night, though I did not sleep. I may sleep little now t=
hat
Gudruda is dead, for that which I saw in her eyes haunts me."
Then they went on,
and the face of Gizur grew white with fear.
=
XXXIII - HOW ERIC AND
SKALLAGRIM FOUGHT THEIR LAST GREAT FIGHT
Now the thrall and
those with him on the crest of the fell heard the murmur of the company of
Gizur and Swanhild as they won the mountain side, though they could not see
them because of the rocks.
"Now it is t=
ime
to begin and knock these birds from their perch," said the thrall,
"for that is an awkward corner for our folk to turn with Whitefire and=
the
axe of Skallagrim waiting on the farther side."
So he balanced a
great stone, as heavy as three men could lift, on the brow of the rock, and
aimed it. Then he pushed and let it go. It smote the platform beneath with a
crash, two fathoms behind the spot where Eric and Skallagrim sat. Then it f=
lew
into the air, and, just as Brighteyes turned at the sound, it struck the wi=
ngs
of his helm, and, bursting the straps, tore the golden helm-piece from his =
head
and carried it away into the gulf beneath.
Skallagrim looked=
up
and saw what had come about.
"They have
gained the crest of the fell," he cried. "Now we must fly into the
cave or down the narrow way and hold it."
"Down the na=
rrow
way, then," said Eric, and while rocks, spears and arrows rushed betwe=
en
and around them, they stepped on to the stone and won the path beyond. It w=
as
clear, for Gizur's folk had not yet come, and they ran nearly to the mouth =
of
it, where there was a bend in the way, and stood there side by side.
"Thou wast at
death's door then, lord!" said Skallagrim.
"Head-piece =
is
not head," answered Eric; "but I wonder how they won the crest of=
the
fell. I have never heard tell of any path by which it might be gained."=
;
"There they =
are
at the least," said Skallagrim. "Now this is my will, that thou
shouldst take my helm. I am Baresark and put little trust in harness, but
rather in my axe and strength alone."
"I will not =
do
that," said Eric. "Listen: I hear them come."
Presently the tum=
ult
of voices and the tramp of feet grew clearer, and after a while Gizur,
Swanhild, and the men of their following turned the corner of the narrow wa=
y,
and lo! there before them--ay within three paces of them--stood Eric and
Skallagrim shoulder to shoulder, and the light poured down upon them from
above.
They were terribl=
e to
see, and the light shone brightly on Eric's golden hair and Whitefire's
flashing blade, and the shadows lay dark on the black helm of Skallagrim an=
d in
the fierce black eyes beneath.
Back surged Gizur=
and
those with him. Skallagrim would have sprung upon them, but Eric caught him=
by
the arm, saying: "A truce to thy Baresark ways. Rush not and move not!=
Let
us stand here till they overwhelm us."
Now those behind
Gizur cried out to know what ailed them that they pushed back.
"Only
this," said Gizur, "that Eric Brighteyes and Skallagrim Lambstail=
stand
like two grey wolves and hold the narrow way."
"Now we shall
have fighting worth the telling of," quoth Ketel the viking. "On,
Gizur, Ospakar's son, and cut them down!"
"Hold!"
said Swanhild; "I will speak with Eric first," and, together with
Gizur and Ketel, she passed round the corner of the path and came face to f=
ace
with those who stood at bay there.
"Now yield,
Eric," she cried. "Foes are behind and before thee. Thou art trap=
ped,
and hast little chance of life. Yield thee, I say, with thy black wolf-houn=
d,
so perchance thou mayest find mercy even at the hands of her whose husband =
thou
didst wrong and slay."
"It is not my
way to yield, lady," answered Eric, "and still less perchance is =
it
the way of Skallagrim. Least of all will we yield to thee who, after working
many ills, didst throw me in a witch-sleep, and to him who slew the wife
sleeping at my side. Hearken, Swanhild: here we stand, awaiting death, nor =
will
we take mercy from thy hand. For know this, we shall not die alone. Last ni=
ght
as we sat on Mosfell we saw the Norns weave our web of fate upon their loom=
of
darkness. They sat on Helca's dome and wove their pictures in living flame,
then rent the web and flew upward and southward and westward, crying our do=
om
to sky and earth and sea. Last night as we sat by the fire on Mosfell all t=
he company
of the dead were gathered round us--ay! and all the company of those who sh=
all
die to-day. Thou wast there, Gizur the murderer, Ospakar's son! thou wast
there, Swanhild the witch, Groa's daughter! thou wast there, Ketel Viking! =
with
many another man; and there were we two also. Valkyries have kissed us and
death draws near. Therefore, talk no more, but come and make an end. Greeti=
ng,
Gizur, thou woman-murderer! Draw nigh! draw nigh! Out sword! up shield! and=
on,
thou son of Ospakar!"
Swanhild spoke no
more, and Gizur had no word.
"On, Gizur! =
Eric
calls thee," quoth Ketel Viking; but Gizur slunk back, not forward.
Then Ketel grew m=
ad
with rage and shame. He called to the men, and they drew near, as many as
might, and looked doubtfully at the pair who stood before them like rocks u=
pon
a plain. Eric laughed aloud and Skallagrim gnawed the edge of his shield. E=
ric
laughed aloud and the sound of his laughter ran up the rocks.
"We are but
two," he cried, "and ye are many! Is there never a pair
among you will st=
and
face to face with a Baresark and a helmless man?" and he tossed Whitef=
ire
high into the air and caught it by the hilt.
Then Ketel and
another man of his following sprang forward with an oath, and their axes
thundered loud on the shields of Eric and of Skallagrim. But Whitefire
flickered up and the axe of Skallagrim crashed, and at once their knees were
loosened, so that they sank down dead.
"More men! m=
ore
men!" cried Eric. "These were brave, but their might was little. =
More
men for the Grey Wolf's maw!"
Then Swanhild las=
hed
the folk with bitter words, and two of them sprang on. They sprang on like
hounds upon a deer at bay, and they rolled back as gored hounds roll from t=
he
deer's horns.
"More men! m=
ore
men!" cried Eric. "Here lie but four and a hundred press behind. =
Now
he shall win great honour who lays Brighteyes low and brings down the helm =
of
Skallagrim."
Again two came on,
but they found no luck, for presently they also were down upon the bodies of
those who went before. Now none could be found to come up against the pair,=
for
they fought like Baldur and Thor, and none could touch them, and no harness
might withstand the weight of their blows that shore through shield and helm
and byrnie, deep to the bone beneath. Then Eric and Skallagrim leaned upon
their weapons and mocked their foes, while these cursed and tore their bear=
ds
with rage and shame.
Now it is to be t=
old
that when the thrall and those with him saw Eric and Skallagrim had escaped
their rocks and spears, they took counsel, and the end of it was that they =
slid
down a rope to the platform that is under the crest of the fell. Thence, th=
ough
they could see nothing, they could hear the clang of blows and the shouts of
those who fought and fell--ay! and the mocking of Eric and of Skallagrim.
"Now it goes
thus," said the thrall, who was a cunning man: "Eric and Skallagr=
im
hold the narrow way and none can stand against them. This, then, is my rede:
that we turn the rock and take them in the back."
His fellows thoug=
ht
this a good saying, and one by one they stood upon the little rock and won =
the
narrow way. They crept along this till they were near to Eric and Skallagri=
m.
Now Swanhild, looking up, saw them and started. Skallagrim noted this and
glanced over his shoulder, and that not too soon, for, as he looked, the th=
rall
lifted sword to smite the head of Eric.
With a shout of
"Back to back!" the Baresark swung round and ere ever the sword m=
ight
fall his axe was buried deep in the thrall's breast.
"Now we must=
cut
our path through them," said Skallagrim, "and, if it may be, win =
the
space that is before the cave. Keep them off in front, and I will mind these
mannikins."
Now Gizur's folk,
seeing what had come about, took heart and fell upon Eric with a rush, and
those who were with the dead thrall rushed at Skallagrim, and there began s=
uch
a fight as has not been known in Iceland. But the way was so narrow that sc=
arce
more than one man could come to each of them at a time. And so fierce and t=
rue
were the blows of Eric and Skallagrim that of those who came on few went ba=
ck.
Down they fell, and where they fell they died, and for every man who died E=
ric and
Skallagrim won a pace towards the point of rock. Whitefire flamed so swift =
and
swept so wide that it seemed to Swanhild, watching, as though three swords =
were
aloft at once, and the axe of Skallagrim thundered down like the axe of a
woodman against a tree, and those groaned on whom it fell as groans a falli=
ng
tree. Now the shields of these twain were hewn through and through, and cast
away, and their blood ran from many wounds. Still, their life was whole in =
them
and they plied axe and sword with both hands. And ever men fell, and ever,
fighting hard, they drew nearer to the point of rock.
Now it was won, a=
nd
now all the company that came with the thrall from over the mountain brow w=
ere
dead or sorely wounded at the hands of black Skallagrim. Lo! one springs on
Eric, and Gizur creeps behind him. Whitefire leaps to meet the man and does=
not
leap in vain; but Gizur smites a coward blow at Eric's uncovered head, and
wounds him sorely, so that he falls to his knee.
"Now I am
smitten to the death, Skallagrim," cries Eric. "Win the rock and
leave me." Yet he rises from his knee.
Then Skallagrim
turns, red with blood and terrible to see.
"'Tis but a
scratch. Climb thou the rock--I follow," he says, and, screaming like a
horse, with weapon aloft he leaps alone upon the foe. They break before the
Baresark rush; they break, they fall--they are cloven by Baresark axe and
trodden of Baresark feet! They roll back, leaving the way clear--save for t=
he
dead. Then Skallagrim follows Brighteyes to the rock.
Now Eric wipes the
gore from his eyes and sees. Then, slowly, and with a reeling brain, he ste=
ps
down upon the giddy point. He goes near to falling, yet does not fall, for =
now
he lies upon the open space, and creeps on hands and knees to the rock-wall
that is by the cave, and sits resting his back against it, Whitefire on his
knee.
Before he is ther=
e,
Skallagrim staggers to his side with a rush.
"Now we have
time to breathe, lord," he gasps. "See, here is water," and =
he
takes a pitcher that stands by, and gives Eric to drink from the pool, then
drinks himself and pours the rest of the water on Eric's wound. Then new li=
fe
comes to them, and they both stand on their feet and win back their breath.=
"We have not
done so badly!" says Skallagrim, "and we are still a match for on=
e or
two. See, they come! Say, where shall we meet them, lord?"
"Here,"
quoth Eric; "I cannot stand well upon my legs without the help of the
rock. Now I am all unmeet for fight."
"Yet shall t=
his
last stand of thine be sung of!" says Skallagrim.
Now finding none =
to
stay them, the men of Gizur climb one by one upon the rock and win the space
that is beyond. Swanhild goes first of all, because she knows well that Eric
will not harm her, and after her come Gizur and the others. But many do not
come, for they will lift sword no more.
Now Swanhild draws
near and looks on Eric and mocks him in the fierceness of her heart and the
rage of her wolf-love.
"Now," =
she
says, "now are Brighteyes dim eyes! What! weepest thou, Eric?"
"Ay,
Swanhild," he answered, "I weep tears of blood for those whom tho=
u hast
brought to doom."
She draws nearer =
and
speaks low to him: "Hearken, Eric. Yield thee! Thou hast done enough f=
or
honour, and thou art not smitten to the death of yonder cowardly hound. Yie=
ld
and I will nurse thee back to health and bear thee hence, and together we w=
ill
forget our hates and woes."
"Not twice m=
ay a
man lie in a witch's bed," said Eric, "and my troth is plighted to
other than thee, Swanhild."
"She is
dead," says Swanhild.
"Yes, she is
dead, Swanhild; and I go to seek her amongst the dead--I go to seek her and=
to
find her!"
But the face of
Swanhild grew fierce as the winter sea.
"Thou hast p=
ut
me away for the last time, Eric! Now thou shalt die, as I have promised thee
and as I promised Gudruda the Fair!"
"So shall I =
the
more quickly find Gudruda and lose sight of thy evil face, Swanhild the har=
lot!
Swanhild the murderess! Swanhild the witch! For I know this: thou shalt not
escape!--thy doom draws on also!--and haunted and accursed shalt thou be for
ever! Fare thee well, Swanhild; we shall meet no more, and the hour comes w=
hen
thou shalt grieve that thou wast ever born!"
Now Swanhild turn=
ed
and called to the folk: "Come, cut down these outlaw rogues and make an
end. Come, cut them down, for night draws on."
Then once more the
men of Gizur closed in upon them. Eric smote thrice and thrice the blow went
home, then he could smite no more, for his strength was spent with toil and=
wounds,
and he sank upon the ground. For a while Skallagrim stood over him like a
she-bear o'er her young and held the mob at bay. Then Gizur, watching, cast=
a
spear at Eric. It entered his side through a cleft in his byrnie and pierced
him deep.
"I am sped,
Skallagrim Lambstail," cried Eric in a loud voice, and all men drew ba=
ck
to see giant Brighteyes die. Now his head fell against the rock and his eyes
closed.
Then Skallagrim,
stooping, drew out the spear and kissed Eric on the forehead.
"Farewell, E=
ric Brighteyes!"
he said. "Iceland shall never see such another man, and few have died =
so
great a death. Tarry a while, lord; tarry a while--I come--I come!"
Then crying "=
; Eric!
Eric! " the Baresark fit took him, and once more and for the last time
Skallagrim rushed screaming upon the foe, and once more they rolled to earth
before him. To and fro he rushed, dealing great blows, and ever as he went =
they
stabbed and cut and thrust at his side and back, for they dared not stand
before him, till he bled from a hundred wounds. Now, having slain three more
men, and wounded two others, Skallagrim might no more. He stood a moment
swaying to and fro, then let his axe drop, threw his arms high above him, a=
nd
with one loud cry of " Eric! " fell as a rock falls--dead upon the
dead.
But Eric was not =
yet
gone. He opened his eyes and saw the death of Skallagrim and smiled.
"Well ended,
Lambstail!" he said in a faint voice.
"Lo!" c=
ried
Gizur, "yon outlawed hound still lives! Now I will do a needful task a=
nd
make an end of him, and so shall Ospakar's sword come back to Ospakar's
son."
"Thou art
wondrous brave now that the bear lies dying!" said Swanhild.
Now it seemed that
Eric heard the words, for suddenly his might came back to him, and he stagg=
ered
to his knees and thence to his feet. Then, as folk fall from him, with all =
his
strength he whirls Whitefire round his head till it shines like a wheel of
fire. "Thy service is done and thou art clean of Gudruda's blood--go b=
ack
to those who forged thee!" Brighteyes cries, and casts Whitefire from =
him
towards the gulf.
Away speeds the g=
reat
blade, flashing like lightning through the rays of the setting sun, and beh=
old!
as men watch it is gone--gone in mid-air!
Since that day no
such sword as Whitefire has been known in Iceland.
"Now slay th=
ou
me, Gizur," says the dying Eric.
Gizur comes on wi=
th
little eagerness, and Eric cries aloud:
"Swordless I
slew thy father!--swordless, shieldless, and wounded to the death I will yet
slay thee , Gizur the Murderer!&qu=
ot;
and with a loud cry he staggered towards him.
Gizur smites him =
with
his sword, but Eric does not stay, and while men wait and wonder, Brighteyes
sweeps him into his great arms--ay, sweeps him up, lifts him from the ground
and reels on.
Eric reels on to =
the
brink of the gulf. Gizur sees his purpose, struggles and shrieks aloud. But=
the
strength of the dying Eric is more than the strength of Gizur. Now Brightey=
es
stands on the dizzy edge and the light of the passing sun flames about his
head. And now, bearing Gizur with him, he hurls himself out into the gulf, =
and
lo! the sun sinks!
Men stand wonderi=
ng,
but Swanhild cries aloud:
"Nobly done,
Eric! nobly done! So I would have seen thee die who of all men wast the
first!"
This then was the=
end
of Eric Brighteyes the Unlucky, who of all warriors that have lived in Icel=
and
was the mightiest, the goodliest, and the best beloved of women and of those
who clung to him.
Now, on the morro=
w,
Swanhild caused the body of Eric to be searched for in the cleft, and there
they found it, floating in water and with the dead Gizur yet clasped in its
bear-grip. Then she cleansed it and clothed it again in its rent armour, and
bound on the Hell-shoes, and it was carried on horses to the sea-side, and =
with
it were borne the bodies of Skallagrim Lambstail the Baresark, Eric's thral=
l,
and of all those men whom they had slain in the last great fight on Mosfell,
that is now named Ericsfell.
Then Swanhild drew her long dragon of war, in which she had come from Orkneys, from its shed o= ver against Westman Isles, and in the centre of the ship, she piled the bodies = of the slain in the shape of a bed, and lashed them fast. And on this bed she = laid the corpse of Eric Brighteyes, and the breast of black Skallagrim the Bares= ark was his pillow, and the breast of Gizur, Ospakar's son, was his foot-rest.<= o:p>
Then she caused t=
he
sails to be hoisted, and went alone aboard the long ship, the rails of which
were hung with the shields of the dead men.
And when at eveni=
ng
the breeze freshened to a gale that blew from the land, she cut the cable w=
ith
her own hand, and the ship leapt forward like a thing alive, and rushed out=
in
the red light of the sunset towards the open sea.
Now ever the gale
freshened and folk, standing on Westman Heights, saw the long ship plunge p=
ast,
dipping her prow beneath the waves and sending the water in a rain of spray
over the living Swanhild, over the dead Eric and those he lay upon.
And by the head of
Eric Brighteyes, her hair streaming on the wind, stood Swanhild the Witch, =
clad
in her purple cloak, and with rings of gold about her throat and arms. She
stood by Eric's head, swaying with the rush of the ship, and singing so swe=
et
and wild a song that men grew weak who heard it.
Now, as the people
watched, two white swans came down from the clouds and sped on wide wings s=
ide
by side over the vessel's mast.
The ship rushed on
through the glow of sunset into the gathering night. On sped the ship, but
still Swanhild sung, and still the swans flew over her.
The gale grew fie=
rce,
and fiercer yet. The darkness gathered deep upon the raging sea.
Now that ship was
seen no more, and the death-song of Swanhild as she passed to doom was never
heard again.
For swans and shi=
p,
and Swanhild, and dead Eric and his dead foes, were lost in the wind and th=
e night.
But far out on the
sea a great flame of fire leapt up towards the sky.
Now this is the t=
ale
of Eric Brighteyes, Thorgrimur's son; of Gudruda the Fair, Asmund's daughte=
r;
of Swanhild the Fatherless, Atli's wife, and of Ounound, named Skallagrim L=
ambstail,
the Baresark, Eric's thrall, all of whom lived and died before Thangbrand,
Wilibald's son, preached the White Christ in Iceland.