A ship is made for sailing,A shield for sheltering,A sword for striking,A maiden for kisses.Ha'vama'l
"When the sun rises tomorrow it is likely that we shall see Greenland ahead of us," growled Egil.
With Sigurd and the Wrestler, he was lounging against the side, watching the witch-fires run along the waves through the darkness. The new bower-man stood next to Sigurd, but Egil could not properly be said to be with him, for the two only spoke under the direst necessity. Around them, under the awnings, in the light of flaring pine torches, the crew were sprawled over the rowing-benches killing time with drinking and riddles.
"It seems to me that it will gladden my heart to see it," Sigurd responded. "As I think of the matter, I recall great fun in Greenland. There were excellent wrestling matches between the men of the East and the West settlements. And do you remember the fine feasts Eric was wont to make?"
Rolf gently smacked his lips and laid his hands upon his stomach. "By all means. And remember also the seal hunting and the deer-shooting!"
Sigurd's eyes glistened. "Many good things may be told of Greenland. There is no place in the world so fine to run over on skees. By Saint Michael, I shall be glad to get there!" He struck Egil a rousing blow upon the sullen hump of his shoulders.
Unmoved, the Black One continued to stare out into the darkness, his chin upon his fists.
"Ugh! Yes. Very likely," he grunted. "Very likely it will be clear sailing for you, but it is my belief that some of us will run into a squall when we have left Leif and gone to our own homes, and it becomes known to our kinsmen that we are no longer Odin-men. It is probable that my father will stick his knife into me."
There was a pause while they digested the truth of this; until Rolf relieved the tension by saying quietly: "Speak for yourself, companion. My kinsman is no such fool. He has been on too many trading voyages among the Christians. Already he is baptized in both faiths; so that when Thor does not help him, he is wont to pray to the god of the Christians. Thus is he safe either way; and not a few Greenland chiefs are of his opinion."
Sigurd's merry laugh rang out. "Now that is having a cloak to wear on both sides, according to the weather! If only Eric were so minded—"
"Is Eric the ruler in Greenland?" Alwin interrupted. All this while he had been looking from one to the other, listening attentively.
The two sons of Greenland chiefs answered "No!" in one breath. Sigurd raised quizzical eyebrows.
"I admit that he is not the ruler in name, Greenland being a republic, but in fact—?"
They let him go on without contradiction.
"Thus it stands, Alwin. Eric the Red was the first to settle in Greenland, therefore he owns the most land. Besides Brattahlid, he owns many fishing stations; and he also has stations on several islands where men gather eggs for him and get what drift-wood there is. And not only is he the richest man, but he is also the highest-born, for his father's father was a jarl of Jaederan; and so—"
It is to be feared that Alwin lost some of this. He broke in suddenly: "Now I know where it is that I have heard the name of Eric the Red! It has haunted me for days. In the trader's booth in Norway a minstrel sang a ballad of 'Eric the Red and his Dwarf-Cursed Sword.' Know you of it?"
He was answered by the involuntary glances that the others cast toward the chief.
Rolf said with a shrug: "It is bondmaids' gabble. There is little need to say that a dwarf cursed Eric's sword, to explain how it comes that he has been three times exiled for manslaughter, and driven from Norway to Iceland and from Iceland to Greenland. He quarrelled and slew wherever he settled, because he has a temper like that of the dragon Fafnir."
A faint red tinged Egil's dark cheeks. "Nevertheless, Skroppa's prophecy has come true," he muttered, "that after the blade was once sheathed in the new soil of Greenland, it would bring no more ill-luck."
"Skroppa!" cried Alwin. But he got no further, for Sigurd's hand was clapped over his mouth.
"Lower your voice when you speak that name, comrade," the Silver-Tongued warned him.
"Do not speak it at all," Egil interrupted brusquely. "The English girl is coming aft. It is likely she brings some message from Helga."
They faced about eagerly. Editha's smooth brown head was indeed to be seen threading its way between the noisy groups. They agreed that it was time they heard from the shield-maiden. For her to take advantage of her womanhood, and turn the forecastle into a woman's-house, and forbid their approach, was something unheard-of and outrageous.
"It would be treating her as she deserves if we should refuse to go now when she sends for us," Egil growled, though without any apparent intention of carrying out the threat.
To the extreme amusement of his fellows, Sigurd began to settle his ornaments and rearrange his long locks.
"It may be that she accepts my invitation to play chess. Leif spoke with her for a long time this afternoon; it is likely that he roused her from her black mood."
"It is likely that he roused her," Alwin said slowly.
There was something so peculiar in his voice that they all turned and looked at him. He had suddenly grown very red and uncomfortable.
"It seems that anyone can be foreknowing at certain times," he said, trying to smile. "Now my mind tells me that the summons will be for me."
"For you!" Egil's brows became two black thunder-clouds from under which his eyes flashed lightnings at the thrall.
Alwin yielded to helpless laughter. "There is little need for you to get angry. Rather would I be drowned than go."
It was Sigurd's turn to be offended. "I had thought better of you, Alwin of England, than to suppose that you would cherish hatred against a woman who has offered to be your friend."
"Hatred?" For a moment Alwin did not understand him; then he added: "By Saint George, that is so! I had altogether forgotten that it was my intention to hate her! I swear to you, Sigurd, I have not thought of the matter these two weeks."
"Which causes me to suspect that you have been thinking very hard of something else," Rolf suggested.
But Alwin closed his lips and kept his eyes on Editha's approaching figure.
The little bondmaid came up to them, dropped as graceful a curtsey as she could manage with the pitching of the vessel, and said timidly: "If it please you, my lord Alwin, my mistress desires to speak with you at once."
"Hail to the prophet!" laughed Sigurd, pretending to rumple the locks that he had so carefully smoothed.
"Now Heaven grant that I am a false prophet in the rest of my foretelling," Alwin murmured to himself, as he followed the girl forward. "If I am forced to tell her the truth, I think it likely she will scratch my eyes out."
She did not look dangerous when he came up to her. She was sitting on a little stool, with her hands folded quietly in her lap, and on her beautiful face the dazed look of one who has heard startling news. But her first question was straight to the mark.
"Leif has told me that Gilli and Bertha of Trondhjem are my father and mother. He says that you have seen them and know them. Tell me what they are like."
It was an instant plunge into very deep water. Alwin gasped. "Lady, there are many things to be said on the subject. It may be that I am not a good judge."
He was glad to stop and accept the stool Editha offered, and spend a little time settling himself upon it; but that could not last long.
"Bertha of Trondhjem is a very beautiful woman," he began. "It is easy to believe that she is your mother. Also she is gentle and kind-hearted—"
Helga's shoulders moved disdainfully. "She must be a coward. To get rid of her child because a man ordered it! Have you heard that? Because when I was born some lying hag pretended to read in the stars that I would one day become a misfortune to my father, he ordered me to be thrown out—for wolves to eat or beggars to take. And my mother had me carried to Eric, who is Gilli's kinsman, and bound him to keep it a secret. She is a coward."
"It must be remembered that she had been a captive of Gilli," Alwin reminded the shield-maiden. "Even Norse wives are sometimes—"
"She is a coward. Tell me of Gilli. At least he is not witless. What is he like?"
Again the deep water. Alwin stirred in his seat and fingered at the silver lace on his cap. He was dressed splendidly now. Left's wardrobe had contained nothing black that was also plain, so the bowerman's long hose were of silk, his tunic was seamed with silver, his belt studded with steel bosses, his cloak lined with fine gray fur.
"Lady," he stammered, "as I have said, it may be that I am not a fair judge. Gilli did not behave well to me. Yet I have heard that he is very kind to his wife. It is likely that he would give you costly things—"
Helga's foot stamped upon the deck. "What do I care for that?"
He knew how little she cared. He gave up any further attempts at diplomacy.
But her next words granted him a respite. "What was the message that you wrote to my mother for Leif?"
"I think I can remember the exact words," he answered readily, "it gave me so much trouble to spell them. It read this way, after the greeting: 'Do you remember the child you sent to Eric? She is here in Norway with me. She is well grown and handsome. I go back the second day after this. It will be a great grief to her if she is obliged to go also. If her father could see her, it is likely he would be willing to give her a home in Norway. It would even be worth while coming all the way to Greenland after her. It is certain that Gilli would think so, if you could manage that he should see her.' I think that was all, lady."
"If Gilli is what I suspect him to be, that is more than enough," Helga said slowly. She raised her head and looked straight into his eyes. "Answer me this,—you know and must tell,—is he a high-minded warrior like Leif, or is he a money-loving trader?"
"Lady," said Alwin desperately, "if you will have the truth, he is a mean-spirited churl who thinks that the only thing in the world is to have property."
Helga drew a long breath, and her slender hands clenched in her lap. "Now I have found what I have suspected. Answer this truthfully also: If I go back to him, is it not likely that he will marry me to the first creature who offers to make a good bargain with him?"
"Yes," said Alwin.
For days he had been watching her with uneasy pity, whenever in his mind's eye he saw her in the power of the unscrupulous trader, It had made him uncomfortable to feel that he was the tool that had brought it about, even though he knew he was as innocent as the bark on which he had written.
Drop by drop the blood sank out of Helga's face. Spark by spark, the light died out of her eyes. Like some poor trapped animal, she sat staring dully ahead of her.
It was more than Alwin could bear in silence. He leaned forward and shook her arm. "Lady, do anything rather than despair. Get into a rage with me,—though Heaven knows I never intended your misfortune! Yet it is natural you should feel hard toward me. I—"
She stared at him dully. "Why should I be angry with you? You could not help what you did; and Leif thought I would wish rather to go to my own mother than to Thorhild."
It had never occurred to Alwin that she would be reasonable. His remorse became the more eager. He bethought himself of some slight comfort. "At least it cannot happen for a year, lady. And in—"
She raised her head quickly. "Why can it not happen for a year?"
"Because Gilli is away on a trading voyage, and will not be back until fall, when it will be too late to start for Greenland. Nor will he come early in spring and so lose the best of his trading season. It is sure to be more than a year."
Youth can construct a lifeboat out of a straw. Hope crept back to Helga's eyes.
"A year is a long time. Many things can happen in a year. Gilli may be slain,—for every man a mistletoe-shaft grows somewhere. Or I may marry someone in Greenland. Already two chiefs have asked my hand of Leif, so it is not likely that I shall lack chances."
"That is true; and it may also happen that the Lady Bertha will never get my runes. She was absent on a visit when Valbrand left them at her farm. Or even if she gets them, she may lack courage to tell the news to Gilli. Or he may dislike the expense of a daughter. Surely, where there are so many holes, there are many good chances that the danger will fall through one of them."
Helga flung up her head with a gallant air. "I will heed your advice in this matter. I will not trouble myself another moment; and I will love Brattahlid as a bird loves the cliff that hides it! And Thorhild? What if her nature is such that she is cross? She is no coward. She would defend those she loved, though she died for it. I should like to see Eric bid her to abandon a child. There would not be a red hair left in his beard. Better is it to be brave and true than to be gentle like your Lady Bertha. Is it because she is my mother that you give that title to me also?"
Alwin hesitated and reddened. "Yes. And because I like to remember that there is English blood in you."
Helga paused in the midst of her excitement, and her face softened. She looked at him, and her starry eyes were full of frank good-will.
She said slowly, "Since there is English blood in me, it may be that you will some time ask for the friendship I have offered you."
At that moment, it seemed to Alwin that such simplicity and frankness were worth more than all the gentle graces of his country-women. He put out his hand.
"You need not wait long for me to ask that," he said. "I would have asked it a week ago, but I could not think it honorable to call myself your friend when I had injured you so."
Helga's slim fingers gave his a firm clasp, but she laughed merrily.
"That is where you are mistaken. If you had not injured me, you would never have forgotten that I had injured you. Now we are even, and we start afresh. That is a good thing."
A day should be praised at night;A sword when it is tried;Ice when it is crossed.Ha'vama'l
A dim line of snowy islands, so far apart that it was hard to believe they were only the ice-tipped summits of Greenland's towering coast, stretched across the horizon. Standing at Helga's side in the bow, Alwin gazed at them earnestly.
"To think," he marvelled, "that we have come to the very last land on this side of the world! Suppose we were to sail still further west? What is it likely that we would come to? Does the ocean end in a wall of ice, or would we fall off the earth and go tumbling heels over head through the darkness—? By St. George, it makes one dizzy!"
Helga's ideas were not much clearer. It was nearly five hundred years before the time of Columbus. But she knew one thing that Alwin did not know.
"Greenland is not the most western land," she corrected. "There is another still further west, though no one knows how big it is or who lives in it."
She turned, laughing, to where young Haraldsson sat counting the wealth of his pouch and calculating how valuable could be the presents he could afford to bestow on his arrival.
"Sigurd, do you remember that western land Biorn Herjulfsson saw? and how we were wont to plan to run away to it, when I grew tired of embroidering and Leif kept you overlong at your exercises?"
"I have not thought of it since those days," laughed Sigurd. He swept the mass of gold and silver trinkets back into the velvet pouch at his belt, and came over and joined them. "What fine times we had planning those trips, over the fire in the evenings! By Saint Michael, I think we actually started once; have you forgotten?—in the long-boat off Thorwald's whaling vessel! And you wore a suit of my clothes, and fought me because I said anyone could tell that you were a girl."
Helga's laughter rang out like a chime of bells. "Oh, Sigurd I had forgotten it! And we had nothing with us to eat but two cheeses! And Valbrand had to launch a boat and come after us!"
They abandoned themselves to their mirth, and Alwin laughed with them; but his curiosity had been aroused on another subject.
"I wish you would tell me something concerning this farther land," he said, as soon as he could get them to listen. "Does it in truth exist, or is it a tale to amuse children with?"
They both assured him that it was quite true.
"I myself have talked with one of the sailors who saw it," Sigurd explained. "He was Biorn's steersman. He saw it distinctly. He said that it looked like a fine country, with many trees."
"If it was a real country and no witchcraft, it is strange that he contented himself with looking at it. Why did he not land and explore?"
"Biorn Herjulfsson is a coward," Helga said contemptuously. "Every man who can move his tongue says so."
Sigurd frowned at her. "You give judgment too glibly. I have heard many say that he is a brave man. But he was not out on an exploring voyage; he was sailing from Iceland to Greenland, to visit his father, and lost his way. And he is a man not apt to be eager in new enterprises. Besides, it may be that he thought the land was inhabited by dwarfs."
"There, you have admitted that I am right!" Helga cried triumphantly. "He was afraid of the dwarfs; and a man who is afraid of anything is a coward."
But Sigurd could fence with his tongue as well as with his sword. "What then is a shield-maiden who is afraid of her kinswoman?" he parried. And they fell to wrangling laughingly between themselves.
Unheeding them, Alwin gazed away at the mysterious blue west. His eyes were big with great thoughts. If he had a ship and a crew,—if he could sail away exploring! Suppose kingdoms could be founded there! Suppose—his imaginings became as lofty as the drifting clouds, and as vague; so vague that he finally lost interest in them, and turned his attention to the approaching shore. They had come near enough now to see that the scattered islands had connected themselves into a peaked coast, a broken line of dazzling whiteness, except where dark chasms made blots upon its sides.
But sighting Greenland and landing upon it were two very different matters, he found. A little further, and they encountered the border of drift-ice that, travelling down from the northeast in company with numerous icebergs, closes the fiord-mouths in summer like a magic bar.
"I shall think it great luck if this breaks up so that we can get through it in a month," Valbrand observed phlegmatically.
"A month?" Alwin gasped, overhearing him.
The old sailor looked at him in contempt. "Does a month seem long to you? When Eric came here from Iceland, he was obliged to lie four months in the ice."
Four months on shipboard, with nothing more cheerful to look at than barren cliffs and a gray sea paved with grinding ice-cakes! The consternation of Alwin's face was so great that Sigurd took pity on him even while he laughed.
"It will not be so bad as that. And we will steer to a point north of the fiord and lie there in the shelter of an island."
"Shelter!" muttered the English youth. "Twelve eiderdown beds would be insufficient to shelter one from this wind."
Nor was the island of any more inviting appearance when finally they reached it. What of it was not barren boulders was covered with black lichens, the only hint of green being an occasional patch of moss nestling in some rocky fissure. To heighten the effect, icy gales blew continually, accompanied by heavy mists and chilling fogs.
Amid these inhospitable surroundings they were penned for two weeks,—Norse weeks of but five days each, but seemingly endless to the captives from the south. Editha retired permanently into the big bear-skin sleeping-bag that enveloped the whole of her little person and was the only cure for the chattering of her teeth. Alwin wrapped himself in every garment he owned and as many of Sigurd's as could be spared, and strove to endure the situation with the stoicism of his companions; but now and then his disgust got the better of his philosophy.
"How intelligent beings can find it in their hearts to return to this country after the good God has once allowed them to leave it, passes my understanding!" he stormed, on the tenth day of this sorry picnicking. "At first it was in my mind to fear lest such a small ship should sink in such a great sea; now I only dread that it will not, and that we will be brought alive to land and forced to live there."
Rolf regarded him with his amiable smile. "If your eyes were as blue as your lips, and your cheeks were as red as your nose, you would be considered a handsome man," he said encouragingly.
And again it was Sigurd who took pity on Alwin. "Bear it well; it will not last much longer," he said. "Already a passage is opening. And inside the fiord, much is different from what is expected."
Alwin smiled with polite incredulity.
The next day's sun showed a dark channel open to them, so that before noon they had entered upon the broad water-lane known as Eric's Fiord. The silence between the towering walls was so absolute, so death-like, as to be almost uncanny. Mile after mile they sailed, between bleak cliffs ice-crowned and garbed in black lichens; mile after mile further yet, without passing anything more cheerful than a cluster of rocky islands or a slope covered with brownish moss. The most luxuriant of the islands boasted only a patch of crowberry bushes or a few creeping junipers too much abashed to lift their heads a finger's length above the earth.
Alwin looked about him with a sigh, and then at Sigurd with a grimace. "Do you still say that this is pleasanter than drowning?" he inquired.
Sigurd met the fling with obstinate composure. "Are you blind to the greenness of yonder plain? And do you not feel the sun upon you?"
All at once it occurred to Alwin that the icy wind of the headlands had ceased to blow; the fog had vanished, and there was a genial warmth in the air about him. And yonder,—certainly yonder meadow was as green as the camp in Norway. He threw off one of his cloaks and settled himself to watch.
Gradually the green patches became more numerous, until the level was covered with nothing else. In one place, he almost thought he caught a gleam of golden buttercups. The verdure crept up the snow-clad slopes, hundreds and thousands of feet; and here and there, beside some foaming little cataract tumbling down from a glacier-fed stream, a rhododendron glowed like a rosy flame. They passed the last island, covered with a copse of willows as high as a tall man's head, and came into an open stretch of water bordered by rolling pasture lands, filled with daisies and mild-eyed cattle. Sigurd clutched the English boy's arm excitedly.
"Yonder are Eric's ship-sheds! And there—over that hill, where the smoke is rising—there is Brattahlid!"
"There?" exclaimed Alwin. "Now it was in my mind that you had told me that Eric's house was built on Eric's Fiord."
"So it is,—or two miles from there, which is of little importance. Oh, yes, it stands on the very banks of Einar's Fiord; but since that is a route one takes only when he visits the other parts of the settlement, and seldom when he runs out to sea—Is that a man I see upon the landing?"
"If they have not already seen us and come down to meet us, their eyes are less sharp than they were wont to be three years ago," Rolf began; when Sigurd answered his own question.
"They are there; do you not see? Crowds of them—between the sheds. Someone is waving a cloak. By Saint Michael, the sight of Normandy did not gladden me like this!"
"Let down sail! drop anchor, and make the boats ready to lower," came in Valbrand's heavy drone.
Givers, hail!A guest is come in;Where shall he sit?
Water to him is needfulWho for refection comes,A towel and hospitable invitation,A good reception;If he can get it,Discourse and answer.Ha'vama'l
Ten by ten, the ship's boat brought them to land, and into the crowd of armed retainers, house servants, field hands, and thralls. A roar of delight greeted the appearance of Helga; and Sigurd was nearly overturned by welcoming hands. It seemed that the crowd stood too much in awe of Leif to salute him with any familiarity, but they made way for him most respectfully; and a pack of shaggy dogs fell upon him and almost tore him to pieces in the frenzy of their joyful recognition. A fusillade of shoulder-slapping filled the air. Not a buxom maid but found some brawny neck to fling her arms about, receiving a hearty smack for her pains. Nor were the men more backward; it was only by clinging like a burr to her mistress's side that Editha escaped a dozen vigorous caresses. Alwin, with his short hair and his contradictorily rich dress, was stared at in outspoken curiosity. The men whispered that Leif had become so grand that he must have a page to carry his cloak, like the King himself. The women said that, in any event, the youth looked handsome, and black became his fair complexion. Kark scowled as he stepped ashore and heard their comments.
"Where is my father, Thorhall?" he demanded, giving his hand with far more haughtiness than the chief.
"He has gone hunting with Thorwald Ericsson," one of the house thralls informed him. "He will not be back until to-night."
Whereupon Kark's colorless face became mottled with red temper-spots, and he pushed rudely through the throng and disappeared among the ship-sheds.
"Is my brother Thorstein also in Greenland?" Leif asked the servant.
But the man answered that Eric's youngest son was absent on a visit to his mother's kin in Iceland. When the boat had brought the last man to land, the "Sea-Deer" was left to float at rest until the time of her unloading; and they began to move up from the shore in a boisterous procession.
Between rich pastures and miniature forests of willow and birch and alder, a broad lane ran east over green hill and dale. Amid a babel of talk and laughter, they passed along the lane, the rank and file performing many jovial capers, slipping bold arms around trim waists and scuffling over bundles of treasure. Over hill and dale they went for nearly two miles; then, some four hundred feet from the rocky banks of Einar's Fiord, the lane ended before the wide-thrown gates of a high fence.
If the gates had been closed, one might have guessed what was inside; so unvarying was the plan of Norse manors. A huge quadrangular courtyard was surrounded by substantial buildings. To the right was the great hall, with the kitchens and storehouses. Across the inner side stood the women's house, with the herb-garden on one hand, and the guest-chambers on the other. To the left were the stables, the piggery, the sheep-houses, the cow-sheds, and the smithies.
No sooner had they passed the gates than a second avalanche of greetings fell upon them. Gathered together in the grassy space were more armed retainers, more white-clad thralls, more barking dogs, more house servants in holiday attire, and, at the head of them, the far-famed Eric the Red and his strong-minded Thorhild.
One glance at the Red One convinced Alwin that his reputation did not belie him. It was not alone his floating hair and his long beard that were fiery; his whole person looked capable of instantaneous combustion. His choleric blue eyes, now twinkling with good humor, a spark could kindle into a blaze. A breath could fan the ruddy spots on his cheeks into flames.
As Alwin watched him, he said to himself, "It is not that he was three times exiled for manslaughter which surprises me,—it is that he was not exiled thirty times."
Alwin looked curiously at the plump matron, with the stately head-dress of white linen and the bunch of jingling keys at her girdle, and had a surprise of a different kind. Certainly there were no soft curves in her resolute mouth, and her eyes were as keen as Leif's; yet it was neither a cruel face nor a shrewish one. It was full of truth and strength, and there was comeliness in her broad smooth brow and in the unfaded roses of her cheeks. Ah, and now that the keen eyes had fallen upon Leif, they were no longer sharp; they were soft and deep with mother-love, and radiant with pride. Her hands stirred as though they could not wait to touch him.
There was a pause of some decorum, while the chief embraced his parents; then the tumult burst forth. No man could hear himself, much less his neighbor.
Under cover of the confusion, Alwin approached Helga. Having no greetings of his own to occupy him, he made over his interest to others. The shield-maiden was standing on the very spot where Leif had left her, Editha clinging to her side. She was gazing at Thorhild and nervously clasping and unclasping her hands.
Alwin said in her ear: "She will make you a better mother than Bertha of Trondhjem. It is my advice that you reconcile yourself to her at once."
"It was in my mind," Helga said slowly, "it was in my mind that I could love her!"
Shaking off Editha, she took a hesitating step forward. Thorhild had parted from Leif, and turned to welcome Sigurd. Helga took another step. Thorhild raised her head and looked at her. When she saw the picturesque figure, with its short kirtle and its shirt of steel, she drew herself up stiffly, and it was evident that she tried to frown; but Helga walked quickly up to her and put her arms about her neck and laid her head upon her breast and clung there.
By and by the matron slipped an arm around the girl's waist, then one around her shoulders. Finally she bent her head and kissed her. Directly after, she pushed her off and held her at arm's length.
"You have grown like a leek. I wonder that such a life has not ruined your complexion. Was cloth so costly in Norway that Leif could afford no more for a skirt? You shall put on one of mine the instant we get indoors. It is time you had a woman to look after you."
But Helga was no longer repelled by her severity; she could appreciate now what lay beneath it. She said, "Yes, kinswoman," with proper submissiveness, and then looked over at Alwin with laughing eyes.
Eric's voice now made itself heard above the din. "Bring them into the house, you simpletons! Bring them indoors! Will you keep them starving while you gabble? Bring them in, and spread the tables, and fill up the horns. Drink to the Lucky One in the best mead in Greenland. Come in, come in! In the Troll's name, come in, and be welcome!"
Rolf smiled his guileless smile aside to Egil. "It is likely that he will say other things 'in the Troll's name' when he finds out why the Lucky One has come," he murmured.
A wary guestWho to refection comesKeeps a cautious silence;With his ears listens,And with his eyes observes:So explores every prudent man.Ha'vama'l
In accordance with the fashion of the day, Brattahlid was a hall not only in the sense of being a large room, but in being a building by itself,—and a building it was of entirely unique appearance. Instead of consisting of huge logs, as Norse houses almost invariably did, three sides of it had been built of immense blocks of red sandstone; and for the fourth side, a low, perpendicular, smooth rock had been used, so that one of the inner walls was formed by a natural cliff between ten and twelve feet high. Undoubtedly it was from this peculiarity that the name Brattahlid had been bestowed upon it, Brattahlid signifying 'steep side of a rock.' Its style was the extreme of simplicity, for a square opening in the roof took the place of a chimney, and it had few windows, and those were small and filled with a bladder-like membrane instead of glass; yet it was not without a certain impressiveness. The hall was so large that nearly two hundred men could find seats on the two benches that ran through it from end to end. Its walls were of a symmetry and massiveness to outlast the wear of centuries; and the interior had even a certain splendor.
To-night, decked for a feast, it was magnificent to behold. Gay-hued tapestries covered the sides, along which rows of round shields overlapped each other like bright painted scales. Over the benches were laid embroidered cloths; while the floor was strewn with straw until it sparkled as with a carpet of spun gold. Before the benches, on either side of the long stone hearth that ran through the centre of the hall, stood tables spread with covers of flax bleached white as foam. The light of the crackling pine torches quivered and flashed from gilded vessels, and silver-covered trenchers, and goblets of rarely beautiful glass, ruby and amber and emerald green.
"I have nowhere seen a finer hall," Alwin admitted to Sigurd, as they pushed their way in through the crowd. "If the high-seats were different, and the fire-place was against the wall, and there were reeds upon the floor instead of straw, it would not be unlike what my father's castle was."
"If I were altogether different, would I look like a Saxon maiden also?" Helga's voice laughed in his ear. She had come in through the women's door, with Thorhild and a throng of high-born women. Already she was transformed. A trailing gown of blue made her seem to have grown a head taller. Bits of finery—a gold belt at her waist, a gold brooch on her breast, a string of amber beads around the white neck that showed coquettishly above the snowy kerchief—banished the last traces of the shield-maiden, For the first time, it occurred to Alwin that she was more than a good comrade,—she was a girl, a beautiful girl, the kind that some day a man would love and woo and win. He gazed at her with wonder and admiration, and something more; gazed so intently that he did not see Egil's eyes fastened upon him.
Helga laughed at his surprise; then she frowned. "If you say that you like me better in these clothes, I shall be angry with you," she whispered sharply.
Fortunately, Alwin was not obliged to commit himself. At that moment the headwoman or housekeeper, who was also mistress of ceremonies in the absence of the steward, came bustling through the crowd, and divided the men from the women, indicating to every one his place according to the strictest interpretation of the laws of precedence.
If there had been more time for preparation there would have been a larger company to greet the returned guardsman. Yet the messengers Thorhild had hastily despatched had brought back nearly a score of chiefs and their families; and what with their additional attendants, and Leif's band of followers, and Eric's own household, there were few empty places along the walls.
According to custom, Eric sat in his high-seat between two lofty carved pillars midway the northern length of the hall. Thorhild sat in the seat with him; the high-born men were placed upon his right; the high-born women were upon her left. Opposite them, as became the guest of honor and his father's eldest son, Leif was established in the other high-seat. Tyrker, weazened and blinking, and swaddled in furs, sat on one side of him; Jarl Harald's son was on the other, merry-eyed, fresh-faced, and dressed like a prince. On either hand, like beads on a necklace, the crew of the "Sea-Deer" were strung along. Kark came the very last of the line, in the lowest seat by the door. Alwin had fresh cause to be grateful to the fate that had changed their stations. His place was on the foot-stool before Leif's high-seat, guarding the chief's cup. It was an honorable place, and one from which he could see and hear, and even speak with Sigurd when anything happened that was too interesting to keep to himself.
Among Leif's men there were many temptations to consult together. Not one but was waiting in tense expectancy for the move that should disclose the guardsman's mission. They had sternest commands from Leif to take no step without his order. They had equally positive word from Valbrand to defend their chief at all hazards. Between the two, they sat breathless and strained, even while they swallowed the delicacies before them.
When the towels and hand-basins had gone quite around, and all the food had been put upon the table, and the feast was well under way, three musicians were brought in bearing fiddles and a harp. Their performance formed a cover under which the guests could relieve their minds.
"Do you observe that he has let his crucifix slide around under his cloak where it is not likely to be noticed?" one whispered to another. "It is my belief that he wishes to put off the evil hour."
"When the horse-flesh is passed to him he will be obliged to refuse, and that will betray him," the other answered.
But Eric did not see when Leif shook his head at the bearer of the forbidden meat; and that danger passed.
Rolf murmured approvingly in Sigurd's ear: "He is wise to lie low as long as possible. It is a great thing to get a good foothold before the whirlwind overtakes one."
Sigurd shook his head in his goblet. "When you wish to disarm a serpent, it is best to provoke him into striking at once, and so draw the poison out of his fangs."
Under the shelter of some twanging chords, Alwin whispered up to them: "If you could sit here and see Kark's face, you would think of a dog that is going to bite. And he keeps watching the door. What is it that he expects to come through it?"
Neither could say. They also took to watching the entrance.
Meanwhile the feasting went merrily on. The table was piled with what were considered the daintiest of dishes,—reindeer tongues, fish, broiled veal, horse-steaks, roast birds, shining white pork; wine by the jugful, besides vats of beer and casks of mead; curds, and loaves of rye bread, mounds of butter, and mountains of cheese. Toasts and compliments flew back and forth. Alwin was kept leaping to supply his master's goblet, so many wished the honor of drinking with him. His news of Norway was listened to with breathless attention; his opinion was received with deference. Often it seemed to Alwin that he had only to speak to have his mission instantly accomplished. The English youth noticed, however, that amid all Leif's flowing eloquence there was no reference to the new faith.
The feast waxed merrier and noisier. One of the fiddlers began to shout a ballad, to the accompaniment of the harp. It happened to be the "Song of the Dwarf-Cursed Sword." Sigurd swallowed a curd the wrong way when the words struck his ear; even Valbrand looked sideways at his chief. But Leif's face was immovable; and only his followers noticed that he did not join in the applause that followed the song. Some of the crew let out sighs of impatience. They could fight,—it was their pleasure next after drinking,—but these waits of diplomacy were almost too much for them. It was fortunate that some trick-dogs were brought in at this point. Watching their antics, the spectators forgot impatience in boisterous delight.
While they were cheering the dog that had jumped highest over his pole, and pounding on the table to express their approval, through chinks in the uproar there came from outside a sound of voices, and horses neighing.
"It is Thorwald, home from hunting!" Sigurd said eagerly, looking toward the door. In a moment he was proved correct, for the door had opened and admitted the sportsman and his companion.
Thorwald Ericsson was as unlike his brother Leif as the guardsman was different from some of the plain farmers around him. He was long and lean and wiry, and his thin lips were set in cruel lines. His dress was shabby, and out of all decent order. Patches of fur had been torn out of his cloak; he was muddy up to his knees, and there was blood on his tunic and on his hands. He stood staring at the gay company in surprise, blinking in the sudden light, until his gaze en-countered Leif, when he cried out joyously and hastened forward to seize his hand.
Alwin drew away in disgust from the touch of his ill-smelling garments. As he did so, his eye fell upon Kark, who had laid hold of Thorwald's companion and was talking rapidly in his ear.
The new-comer was not an amiable-looking man. Above his gigantic body was a lowering face that showed a capacity for slyness or viciousness, whichever better served his turn. As Kark talked to him, his brow grew blacker and he plucked savagely at his knife-hilt. It dawned upon Alwin then that he must be Kark's father, the steward Thorhall of whom Valbrand had spoken.
"In which case it is likely that something is about to happen," he told himself, and tried to communicate the news to Sigurd. But Thorwald stood between them, still pressing Leif's hand.
When the hunter had passed on down the line of the crew, Thorhall came forward and greeted Leif with great civility. Only as he was retiring his eye appeared to fall upon Alwin for the first time; he stopped in pained surprise.
"What is this I see, chief? You have got another bowerman in place of my son, whom your father gave to you? It must be that Kark has done something which you dislike. Tell me what it is, and I will slay him with my own hand."
Again Valbrand looked sideways at his master, as if to remind him that he had warned him of this. Tyrker began to fumble at his beard with shaking hands, and to blink across at Eric. This time they had attracted the Red One's attention. His palm was curved around his ear that he might not lose a word; his eyes were fastened upon Leif.
The guardsman's face was as inscrutable as the side of his goblet. "If Kark had deserved to be slain, he would not be living now. He is less accomplished than this man, therefore I changed them."
The steward bent his head in apparent submission. "Now, as always, you are right. Rather than a boorish Odin-man, better is it to have a man of accomplishments,—even though he be a hound of a Christian." He turned away, as one quite innocent of the barb in his words.
An audible murmur passed down the line of Leif's men. No one doubted that this was Thorhall's trap to avenge the slights upon his son. Would the chief let this also pass by? Though their faces remained set to the front, their eyes slid around to watch him.
Leif drew himself up haughtily and also very quietly. "It is unadvisable for you to speak such words to me," he said. "I also am a Christian."
Flint had struck steel. Eric leaped to his feet in a blaze.
"Say that again!"
Thorwald and a dozen of the guests shook their heads frantically at him, but Leif repeated the declaration.
Crash! Down went Eric's goblet, to shiver into a thousand pieces on the table edge. With a furious curse he flung himself back in his chair, and leaned there, panting and glaring.
A hum of voices arose around the room. Men called out soothing words to the Red One and expostulations to Leif. Others felt furtively for their weapons. Some of the women turned pale and clung to each other. Helga arose, her beautiful face shining like a star, and left their ranks and came over and seated herself on Leif's foot-stool, though the voice of Thorhild rose high and shrill in scolding. Leif's men straightened themselves alertly, and fixed upon their master the eyes of expectant dogs. Thorwald hurried to his brother, and laid hands on his shoulders, and endeavored to argue with him.
Leif put him aside, as he arose and faced his father. Through the tumult his voice sounded quiet and strong, the quiet of perfect self-command, the strength of a fearless heart and an iron will.
"It is a great grief to me that you dislike what I have done; yet now I think it best to tell you the whole truth, that you cannot feel that I have acted underhanded in anything."
Eric gave vent to a sound between a growl and a snarl, and flounced in his chair. Thorhild made her son a gesture of entreaty. But Leif, looking back into the frowning faces, calmly continued:
"Olaf Trygvasson converted me to Christianity two winters ago, and I tell you truly that I was never so well helped as I have been since then. And not only am I a Christian, but every man who calls himself mine is also one, and will let blood-eagles be cut in his back rather than change his faith."
No sound came from Eric; but his mouth was half open, as though his rage were choking him, and his face was purple and twitched with passion. He had picked up the ugly little bronze battle-axe that leaned against his chair, and was hefting it and fingering it and shifting it from hand to hand. Gradually the eyes of all the company centred upon the gleaming wedge, following it up and down and back and forth, expecting, dreading.
"If he does not wish to go so far as to slay his own son, he has yet an easy mark in me," Alwin murmured, his eyes following the motions like snake-charmed birds. "If he raises it again like that, I think I shall dodge." Out of the corners of his eyes, he could see many movements of uneasiness among Leif's men.
Only Leif went on quietly: "You have always known that your gods must die, so it should not surprise you to be told now that they are dead; and it should gladden your hearts to know that One has been found who is both ever-living and willing to help. Therefore King Olaf has sent me to lay before you, that if you will accept this faith as the men of Trondhjem have done—"
Helga sprang aside with a shriek of warning. Eric's arm had shot up and back. With a bellow of rage, he leaped to his feet and hurled the axe at his son's head. Simultaneously came an oath from Valbrand and a roar from the crew; then a thundering blow, as the axe, missing the Lucky One by ever so small a space, buried itself deep in the wall behind him.
Instantly every man of the crew was on his feet, and there was clashing of weapons and a tumult of angry voices. Eric's men were not behindhand, and many of the guests drew swords to protect themselves. They were on the verge of a bloody scene, when again Leif's voice sounded above the uproar. He had drawn no weapon, nor swerved nor moved from his first position.
"Put up your swords!" he said to his men.
Those who caught the under-note in his voice hastened to obey, even while they protested.
He turned again to his father, and into his manner came that strange new gentleness that is known as courtesy, which set him above the raging Red One as a man is above a beast.
"It seems strange to me that the one who taught me the laws of hospitality should be the one to break them with me. Nevertheless, now that I have been frank with you, I will not anger you by speaking further of my mission. And since you do not wish to lodge us, I and my men will go back to my ship and sleep there until my errand is accomplished. Valbrand, do you go first, that the others may follow you in order."
The old warrior hesitated as he wheeled. "It is you who should go first, my chief. The heathens will murder you. We—"
"You will do as I command," Leif interrupted him distinctly; and after one glance at his face, they obeyed.
Nothing like this had ever been seen before. A hush of awe fell upon Eric's men and Eric's guests. One by one the crew filed out, with rumbling threats and scowling faces, but wordless and empty-handed. Alwin took advantage of his close attendance to be the last to go, but finally even he was forced to leave. Helga marched out beside him, her head held very high, her eyes dealing sharper stabs than her dagger, Leif's scarlet colors flying in her cheeks. Thorhild called to her, but she swept on, unheeding.
At the door, Alwin paused to look back. He would not be denied that. Leif still stood before his high-seat, holding Eric with his keen calm eyes as a man holds a mad dog at bay. Never had he looked grander. Alwin silently swore his oath of fealty anew.
That no one should accuse him of cowardice, the guardsman waited until the door had closed upon the last one of his men. Then, slowly, with the utmost composure, he walked out alone between the ranks of his enemies.
An involuntary murmur applauded him as he passed. Thorhild, torn as she was between anger and pride, was quick to catch its meaning and to use it. Whatever Leif's faith, she was still his mother. Taking her life in her hand, she bent over and whispered in Eric's ear.
The darkness of his face became midnight blackness,—then was suddenly rent apart as with lightning. He brought his fist down upon the table with a mighty crash.
"Stop! When did I say anything against lodging you? Do you think to throw shame upon my hospitality before my guests? I will have none of your religion,—I spit upon it. You are no longer my son,—I disown you. But you shall sleep under my roof and eat at my board so long as you remain in Greenland, you and your following. No man shall breathe a word against the hospitality of Eric of Brattahlid. Thorhall, light them to sleeping rooms!" His breath, which had been growing shorter and shorter, failed him utterly. He finished with a savage gesture, and threw himself back in his chair.
If Leif had consulted his pride, it is likely that that night Greenland would have seen the last of him. But foremost in his heart, before any consideration for himself, was the success of his mission. After a moment's hesitation, he accepted the offer courteously, and permitted Thorhall's obsequious attendance.
One can imagine the amazement of his followers when he came out to them, not only unharmed, but waited upon by the steward and a dozen torch-bearers.
"It is because he is the Lucky One," they whispered to each other. "His God helps him in everything. It is a faith to live and die for."
They followed him across the grassy courtyard to the foot of the steps leading up to his sleeping-room, and would not leave him until he had consented that Valbrand and Olver should go in with him for a bodyguard.
"And this boy also," he added, signing to Alwin.
As Alwin approached, Kark had the impudence to shoulder himself forward also.
"Chief, are you going to turn me out to lie with the swine in the kitchen?" he said boldly. "Remember that every time you have slept in this room before, I have lain across your threshold."
Leif's glance pierced him through and through. "Is it sense for a man to trust his slumbers to a dog that has bitten him once? Go lie in the kennel. If it were not for provoking Eric, you would not wait long to feel my blade." He turned and walked up the steps, with his hand on Alwin's shoulder.