He utters too manyFutile wordsWho is never silent;A garrulous tongue,If it be not checked,Sings often to its own harm.Ha'vama'l
Out in the courtyard the four juniors of Leif's train were resting in the shade of the great hall, after a vigorous ball-game. It was four weeks since the crew of the "Sea-Deer" had come into shore-quarters; and though the warmth of August was in the sunshine, the chill of dying summer was already in the shadow. Sigurd drew his cloak around him with a shiver.
"Br-r-r! The sweat drops are freezing on me. What a place this is!"
Rolf, leaning against the door-post, whittling, finished his snatch of song,
"'Hew'd we with the Hanger!It happed that when I young wasEast in Eyrya's channelOutpoured we blood for grim wolves,'"—
and looked down with his gentle smile. "If you mean that it is this doorstep that is not to your mind, you take too much trouble. We must leave it in a moment; do you not hear that?" He jerked his head toward the gateway, from which direction they suddenly caught the faint notes of hunters' horns. "It is Eric's men returning from their sport. In a little while they will be here, and we must try our luck elsewhere."
He straightened himself lazily, flicking the chips from his dress; but the other three sat doggedly unmoved.
Alwin said, testily: "I do not see why we must be kept jumping like frightened rabbits because Leif has ordered us to avoid quarrels. What trouble can we get into if we remain here without speaking, and give them plenty of room to pass by us into the hall?"
Rolf smiled amiably at the three scowling faces. "Certainly you are good mates to Ann the Simpleton, if you cannot tell any better than that what would happen? They would go a rod out of their way to bump into one of us. If they have been successful, their blood will be up so that they will wish to fight for pleasure. If they have failed, they will be murderous with anger. It took less than that to start the brawl in which Olver was slain,—which I dare say you have not forgotten."
Alwin winced, and Sigurd shivered with something besides the cold. It was not the bloody tumult of the fight that they remembered the most clearly; it was what came after it. True to his interpretation of hospitality, Eric had punished the murder of his guest's servant by lopping off, with his own sword, the right hand of the murderer; whereupon Leif had sworn to mete the same justice to any man of his who should slay a follower of Eric.
Slowly, as the blaring horns and trampling hoofs drew nearer, the three rose to their feet. Only Alwin struck the ground a savage blow with the bat he still held.
"By Saint George! it is unbearable that we should be forced to act in such a foolish way! Has Leif less spirit than a wood-goat? I do not see what he means by it."
"Nor I," echoed Sigurd.
"Nor I," growled Egil. "I believed he had some of Eric's temper in him."
"I do not see why, myself," Rolf admitted; "but I see something that seems to me of greater importance, and that is how he looked when he gave the order."
They followed him across the grassy enclosure, though they still grumbled.
"Where shall we go?"
"The stable also is full of Eric's men."
"Before long we shall be shoved off the land altogether. We will have to swim over to Biorn's dwarf-country."
"I propose that we go to the landing place," exclaimed Sigurd. "It may be that the ship which Valbrand sighted this morning is nearly here."
"I say nothing against that," Rolf assented.
They wheeled promptly toward a gate. But at that moment, Alwin caught sight of a blue-gowned figure watering linen in front of the women's-house.
"Do you go on without me," he said, drawing back. "I will follow in a moment."
Sigurd threw him a keen glance. "Is it your intention to do anything exciting, like quarrelling with Thorhall as you did last night? Let me stay and share it."
There was a little embarrassment in Alwin's laugh. "No such intention have I. I wish to see the hunters ride in."
The hunters were an imposing sight, as they swept into the court, and broke ranks with a cheer that brought heads to every door. White-robed thralls ran among the champing horses, unsaddling them; scarlet-cloaked sportsmen tumbled heaps of feathered slain out of their game-bags upon the grass; horns brayed, and hounds bayed and struggled in the leash. But Alwin forgot to notice it, he was hurrying so eagerly to where Helga, Gilli's daughter, walked between her strips of bleaching linen, sprinkling them with water from a bronze pan with a little broom of twigs.
The outline of her face was sharper and the roses glowed more faintly in her cheeks, but she welcomed him with her beautiful frank smile.
"I was hoping some of you would think it worth while to come over here. It is a great relief for me to speak to a man again. I am so tired of women and their endless gabble of brewing and spinning. Yesterday Freydis, Eric's daughter, drove over, and all the while she was here she talked of nothing but—"
"Eric's daughter?" Alwin repeated in surprise. "Not until now have I heard that Leif had a sister. Why is she never spoken of? Where does she live?"
Helga shrugged impatiently. "She lives at Gardar with a witless man named Thorvard, whom she married for his wealth. She is a despisable creature. And the reason no one speaks of her is that if he did he would feel Thorhild's hands in his hair. There is great hatred between them. Yesterday they quarrelled before Freydis had been here any time at all. And I was about to say that I was glad of it, since it brought about Freydis' departure: all the time she was here she spoke of nothing save her ornaments and costly things. Oh, I do not see why Odin had the wish to create women! It would have been pleasanter if they had remained elm-trees."
Alwin regarded her with eyes of the warmest good-will. "It would become a heavy misfortune to me if you were an elm-tree,—though it is likely that I should speak with you then quite as often as I do now. Except at meals, I seldom see you. But I never pass your window that I do not remember that you are toiling within, and say to myself that I am sorry for your bad luck."
"I give you thanks," answered Helga, with her friendly smile. "Where have the other men gone? I wished to speak with Sigurd."
"They have gone to the landing-place, to watch for a ship that Valbrand sighted this morning from the rocks."
She cried out joyfully: "A ship in Einar's Fiord? Then it belongs to some chief of the settlement, who is returning from a Viking voyage! There will be a fine feast made to welcome him."
Alwin followed her doubtfully up the lane between the white patches. "Is it likely that that will do us any good? It is possible that Leif will not be invited."
The heat of her scorn was like to have dried the drops she was scattering. "You are out of your senses. Do you think men who trade among the Christians are so little-minded as Eric? Leif is known to be a man of renown, and the friend of Olaf Trygvasson. They will be proud to sit at table with him."
"It may be that he will refuse to feast with heathens."
"That is possible," Helga admitted. She emptied her pan with a little flirt of impatience, and sighed. "How tiresome everything is! To sit at a table where one is afraid to move lest there be a fight! I speak the truth when I say that this is the merriest diversion I have,—standing out here, watering linen, and watching who comes and goes. And now that my pan is empty, I must betake myself indoors again. Yonder is Valbrand beckoning you."
It is probable that Alwin would not have hurried to obey the summons, but with a nod and a smile Helga turned away, and there was nothing for him but to go forward to meet the steersman.
The old warrior regarded the young favorite with his usual apathy. "It is the wish of Leif that you attend upon him directly."
"Is he in his sleeping-room?"
"Yes."
It occurred to Alwin to wonder at this summons. His usual hour for reading came after Leif had retired for the night. If the chief had overheard the dispute with Thorhall! He lingered, meditating a question; but a second glance at Valbrand's battered face dissuaded him. He turned sharply on his heel, and strode across to the storehouse that had become Leif's headquarters.
A loft that could be reached only by a ladder-like outer stairway, and was without fireplace or stove or means of heating, does not appear inviting. But one has a keener sense of appreciation when he considers that the other alternative was a bed in the great hall, where the air was as foul as it was warm, and the room was shared with drunken men and spilled beer and bones and scraps left from feasting. Alwin had no inclination to hold his nose high in regard to his master's new lodgings. England itself offered nothing more comfortable.
When he had come up the long flight of steps and swung open the heavy door, he had even an impulse of admiration. This, the state guest-chamber, was not without softening details. It was large and high and weather-proof, and boasted three windows. The box-like straw-filled beds, that were built against the wall, were spread with snowy linen and covers of eiderdown. The long brass-bound chests that stood on either side the door were piled with furs until they offered the softest and warmest of resting-places. A score of Leif's rich dresses, hanging from a row of nails, covered the bare walls as with a gorgeous tapestry. The table was provided with graceful bronze water-pitchers and wash-basins of silver, and was littered over with silver scissors and gold-mounted combs and bright-hilted knives, and a medley of costly trinkets. Near the table stood a great carved arm-chair.
At the sight of the man who leaned against its flaming red cushions of eiderdown, Alwin forgot his admiration. The chief's eyebrows made a bushy line across his nose. The young bowerman knew, without words, why he had been sent for. He stopped where he was, a pace within the door, angry and embarrassed.
After a while, Leif said sternly: "You are very silent now, but it appears to me that I heard your voice loud enough in the hall last night."
"It was only that I was accusing Thorhall of a trick that he tried to put upon me. He allowed me to go up to the loft above the provision house without telling me that the flooring had been taken up, so that they might pour the new mead into the vat in the room below. In one more step I should have fallen through the opening and been drowned. It is plain he did it to avenge Kark. I should have burst if I had not told him so."
"I have commanded that my men shall not hold speech with the men of Eric except on friendly matters; that they shall avoid a quarrel as they would avoid death."
His tone of quiet authority had begun to have its usual effect upon his young follower; Alwin's head had bent before him. But suddenly he looked up with a daring flash.
"Then I have not been disobedient to you, lord; for I would not avoid death if it seemed to me that such shirking were cowardly."
A moment the retort brought a grim smile to Leif's lips; then suddenly his face froze into a look of terrible anger. He half started from his chair.
"Do you dare tell me to my face that, because I order you to keep the peace, I am a coward?"
Alwin gave a great gasp. "Lord, there is no man in the world who would dare speak such words to you. I but meant that I cannot bear such treatment as Thorhall's in silence."
Had another said this, the answer might have been swift and fierce; but Leif's manner toward this follower was always different from his way with others,—whether out of respect for his accomplishment, or a fancy for him, or because he discerned in him some refinement that was rare in that brutal age. The anger faded from his face and he said quietly: "Can you not bear so small a thing as that, for so great a cause as the spreading of your faith?"
The boy started.
"Without peace in which to gain their friendship so that they will hear us willingly, our cause is lost. It is not because I am a craven that I bear to be the guest of the man who sought my life, who turns his face from me when I sit at his board, who allows his servants to insult me. Sometimes I think it would be easier to bear the martyrdom of the blessed saints!" He made a sudden fierce movement in his chair, as though the fire in his veins had leaped out and burnt his flesh.
Then, for the first time, Alwin understood. He bent before him, rebuked and humbled.
"Lord, I see that I have done wrong. I ask you to pardon it. Say what you would have me do."
"Put my commands ahead of your desires, as I put King Olaf's wish before my pride, and as he sets the will of God before his will."
"I promise I will not fail you again, lord."
"See that you do not," Leif answered, with a touch of sternness.
A better burdenNo man bears on the wayThan much good sense;That is thought better than richesIn a strange place:Such is the recourse of the indigent.Ha'vama'l
The next afternoon when Helga came out to water the linen, she found Alwin waiting for her, on the pretext of hunting in the long grass for a lost arrow-head.
He greeted her gayly: "I will offer you three chances to guess my news."
She paused, with her twig broom raised and dripping, and scanned him eagerly. "Is it anything about the ship that came yesterday? I heard among the women that it is the war-vessel of Eric's kinsman, Thorkel Farserk, just come back from ravaging the Irish coast. Is his wife going to make a feast to welcome him?"
"I will not deny that you have proved a good guesser. And, by Dunstan! he deserves to be received well. Never saw I such a sight as that landing! There were more slaves than there were men in the crew. Not a man but had a bloody bandage on his head or his body, and the arms and legs of some were lacking. Two of the crew were not there at all, and their sweethearts had come down to the shore to meet them; and when they found that they had been slain, they tore their hair and tried to kill themselves with knives."
"That was foolish of them," said Helga, calmly. "Better was it that their lovers should die in good repute than live in the shame of cowardice. But tell me the news. Has it happened, as I supposed, that there is going to be a feast, and Leif is asked to it?"
"Messengers came this morning from Farserk's wife. But you dare not guess the rest."
"I dare throw this pan of water over you if you do not tell me instantly."
"It would not matter much if you did. I am to have new clothes,—of black velvet with bands of ermine. But hearken now: Leif has accepted the invitation! Even Valbrand thinks this a great wonder. At this moment Sigurd is selecting the chief's richest dress, and Rolf is getting out the most costly of the gifts that were brought from Norway."
Helga set down her pan for the express purpose of clapping her hands. "Now I am well content; for at last they will see him in all his glory, and know what manner of man they have treated with disrespect. I have hoped with all my heart for such a thing as this, but by no means did I think he cared enough to do it."
Alwin shook his head hastily. "You must not get it into your mind that it is to improve his own honor that he does it now. I know that for certain. It is to give his mission a good appearance."
Helga picked up her pan with a sigh. "When he begins to preach that to them, he will knock it all over again."
Alwin considered it his duty to frown at this; but it must be confessed that something very similar was in his own thoughts as he followed his lord into Thorkel Farserk's feasting-hall that night. Whatever his religion, the guardsman's rank and his gallant appearance and fine manners compelled admiration and respect. It could not but seem a pity to his admirers that soon, with one word, he would be forced to undo it all.
"It is harder than the martyrdom of the saints," Alwin murmured bitterly. Then his eye fell upon the silver crucifix, shining pure and bright on Leif's breast, and he realized the unworthiness of his thoughts, and resigned himself with a sigh.
But he found that even yet Leif's purposes were beyond him. Never, by so much as a word, did the guardsman refer to the subject of the new religion,—though again and again his skilful tongue won for him the attention of all at the table. He spoke of battles and of feasts, and of the grandeur of the Northmen. With the old men he discussed Norwegian politics; with the young ones he talked of the famous champions of King Olaf's guard. To the women who wished to know concerning the King's house, and the Queen, he answered with the utmost patience. He described everything, from weddings to burials, with the skill of a minstrel and the weight of an authority, and always with the tact of a courtier.
Gradually whispers of praise circled around the board, whispers that fell like sweetest music on the jealous ears of Leif's followers. Thorhild leaned back from her food and watched him with open pride,—and though Eric kept his face still turned away, he set his ear forward so that he should hear everything.
Alwin was almost beside himself with nervousness. "If the crash does not come soon, I shall go out of my wits," he whispered to Rolf.
The Wrestler turned upon him a face of such unusual excitement that he was amazed. "Do you not see?" he whispered. "There will not be any crash. I have just begun to understand. It was this he meant when he spoke to you of gaining their friend-ship that they might hear him willingly. Do you not see?"
Alwin's relief was so great that at first he dared not believe it. When the truth of it dawned upon him, he was overcome with wonder and admiration. In those days, nine men out of every ten could draw their swords and rave and die for their principles; it was only the tenth man that was strong enough to keep his hand off his weapon, or control his tongue and live to serve his cause.
"Luck obeys his will as the helm his hand. I shall never worry over him again," he said contentedly, as with the others he waited in the courtyard for Leif to come out of the feasting-hall.
Sigurd laughed gayly. "Do you know what I just overheard in the crowd? Some of Thorkel's men were praising Leif, and one of Eric's churls thought it worth while to boast to them how he had known the Lucky One when he was a child. Certainly the tide is beginning to turn."
"Leif Ericsson is an ingenious man," Rolf said, with unusual decision. "I take shame upon me that ever I doubted his wisdom."
Egil uttered the kind of sullen grunt with which he always prefaced a disagreeable remark. "Ugh! I do not agree with you. I think his behavior was weak-kneed. Knowing their hatred against the word Christian, all the more would I have dinged it into their ears; that they might not think they had got the better of me. Now they believe he has become ashamed of his faith and deserted it."
The three broke in upon him in an angry chorus. Alwin said sternly: "You speak in a thoughtless way, Egil Olafsson. You forget that he still wears the crucifix upon his breast. How can they believe that he has forgotten his faith or given it up, when they cannot look at him without seeing also the sign of his God?"
Egil turned away, silenced.
This feast of Thorkel Farserk was the first of a long line of such events. With the approach of autumn, ships became a common sight in the fiords-Those chieftains who had left Greenland in summer to spear whales in the northern ocean, or make trading voyages to eastern countries, or cruise over the high seas on pirates' missions, now came sailing home again with increased wealth and news-bags bursting. For every traveller, wife or kinsman made a feast of welcome—a bountiful entertainment that sometimes lasted three days, with tables always spread, and horns always filled, and games and horse-races, and gifts for everyone. At each of these celebrations, Leif appeared in all his splendor; and his tactful tongue held for him the place of honor. His popularity grew apace. The only thing that could keep step with it was the exultation of his followers.
At love should no oneEver wonderIn another;A beauteous countenanceOft captivates the wise,Which captivates not the foolish.
A man must notBlame anotherFor what is many men's weakness;For mighty loveChanges the sons of menFrom wise into fools.Ha'vama'l
It happened, one day, that an accidental discovery caused Alwin to regard these festivities in a new light.
It was a morning in November when he was in the hall, kneeling before master to lace his high boots. Leif stood before the fire, wrapping himself up for a ride across the Settlement. Some unknown cause had made the atmosphere of the breakfast-table so particularly ungenial,—Thorhild sitting with her back to her spouse, and Eric manifesting a growing desire to hurl goblets at the heads of all who looked at him,—that the courtier had judged it discreet to absent himself from the next meal. He now stood arraying himself from a pile of furs, and talking with Tyrker, who sat near him blinking in the fire-glow. Save a couple of house-thralls scrubbing at the lower end of the room, no one else was present, Eric having started on his morning round of the stables, the smithies, and the cow-houses.
As he pulled on his fur gloves, Leif smiled satirically. "It is a good thing that I was present last summer when King Olaf converted Kjartan the Icelander. It was then I learned that those who cannot be dealt with by force may often be led by the nose without their knowing it. Olaf said to the fellow, 'The God I worship does not wish that any should be brought to Him by force. As you are averse to the doctrines of Christianity, you may depart in peace.' Whereupon Kjartan immediately replied: 'In this manner I may be induced to be a Christian.' So, because I have kept my promise to speak no more concerning Christianity, men have become curious about it, and yesterday two chiefs came of their own will and asked me questions concerning it."
Tyrker poked his head out to say "So?" then snuggled back into his wraps again, to chuckle contentedly. He was so wound up in furs that he looked like a sharp little needle in a fuzzy haystack.
Leif's smile gave way to a frown. "Another man came to me also, on a different errand,—Ragner Thorkelsson,—it may be that you saw him? He wished to make a bargain concerning Helga."
Alwin gave a great start, so that the leather thong snapped in his hand; but his master went on unheeding.
"You know it is my wish that she shall marry as soon as she can make a good match, since she is not happy while she sits at home with Thorhild, and it is not likely that she will like her father much better. It has been in my mind through every feast; but until now, none of the men who have asked for her has seemed to me a good match."
Though his hands kept mechanically at their work, Alwin's brain seemed to have come to a standstill. It must be a dream, a foolish dream. It was not possible that such a thing could have been planned without his even suspecting it. He listened numbly.
"The first man was too old. The second was not of good enough kin; and the other two had not enough property. Ragner Thorkelsson lacks none of these. He is young; his father's father was a lawman; and he owns eighteen farms and many ships."
Though he did not in the least know why, Alwin felt a hot desire to seek out Ragner Thorkelsson and kill him.
"So?" said Tyrker, peering forth inquiringly. "Yet never have I heard that he any accomplishments had, or that in battle enemies he had overcome."
"No," Leif assented.
He did not finish immediately, and there was a pause. From the courtyard came a clashing and jingling of bells, as servants brought the reindeer from the feeding-ground to harness them to the boat-like sledges that stood waiting.
"It may be that I have acted unwisely," Leif said at last; "but because I did not believe it would be according to Helga's wish, I told him that I would not bargain with him."
Alwin buried a gulping laugh in the fur cloak he had picked up. He had known that it would end in some such way. Of course; it had been idiotic to expect anything else. He listened smilingly for what else Leif had to say.
The guardsman drew the last strap through the last buckle on his double fur jacket, and turned toward the door. "It may be that I was unwise, but it may also be that it will not matter much. The most desirable men come home latest; we have not seen them all. It is likely that the next feast will decide it."
Long after the door had closed upon Leif, and he had entered the sledge and been whirled through the gate in a flurry of snow and a clamor of bells, Alwin stood there, motionless. Tyrker dozed in the comfort-able warmth, and woke to find him still staring down into the fire.
"What hast thou, my son?" he questioned, kindly. Alwin came to himself with a start and a stare, and catching up his cloak, hurried out of the room without replying.
"I will find Helga and tell her that she must put a stop to it," he was saying to himself as he went. "That is what I will do. I will tell her that she must stop it."
Pulling his cap lower as the keen wind cut his face, he hurried across the courtyard toward the women's-house, trying to frame some excuse that should bring Helga to the door where he could speak to her.
Half-way across, he bumped into Rolf.
"Hail, comrade! Have you left your eyes behind you in your hurry?" the Wrestler greeted him, catching him by the shoulders and spinning him round and round as he attempted to pass. "You look as sour as last night's beer. What will you give to hear good tidings?"
"Nothing. Let me go. I am in a hurry," Alwin fumed.
"You have not outrun your curiosity, have you? I have just learned why it is that Thorhild no longer speaks to Eric, and why he is in a mood to smash things."
"Why?" asked Alwin, impatiently; but he no longer struggled, for he knew it was useless in Rolf's grip.
"Because last night Thorhild told Eric that she had become a Christian. Her bowerwoman told Helga, and when I met Helga—"
"Met her? Where? Is she in the women's-house?"
Rolf shook him by the shoulders he still held. "Is that all you have to say to news of such importance? Do you not see that now that Thorhild has been converted, Eric's men will no longer dare oppose us; lest in time to come, when she has brought Eric round—"
"I say, where did you meet Helga?" roared Alwin.
Rolf released him, and stood looking at him with an inscrutable smile. "If I were not your sworn friend, I should enjoy wringing your neck," he said. "I met Helga at the gate yonder. She was going over to Glum Starkadsson's to get something for Thorhild, and also because she wished a walk over the hard snow."
"Is it far from here? And in what direction?"
"For what purpose do you wish to know that?"
"I ask you in what direction it lies."
"The Troll take you!" Rolf gave it up with a laugh. "It lies to the north of the fiord,—beyond a bridge that crosses a river that runs through a valley. And it is not far. Have you not yet learned that in Greenland people do not take long strolls in the winter-time?"
Alwin pulled a hood over his cap, strapped his cloak still tighter, drew a pair of down-lined mittens from under his girdle and put them on over his gloves, and, without another syllable, turned and made for the gate.
It was glorious weather, dry and clear, and so still that very little of the cold penetrated his fur-lined garments. Snow covered everything, fine and firm and dazzling. The smooth white expanse suggested a wish that he had brought the skees he was learning to use; then the sight of the line of boulders he would have had to steer around made him rejoice that he had not. Far ahead of him rose the glittering wall of inland ice,—that mysterious frozen sea that covers all of Greenland except its very border, and never advances and never recedes. What made it stop there, he wondered? And what lay beyond it? And could those tales be true that the old women told, of terrible magical beings living on its silent frozen peaks?
The sight of a dark speck moving over the white plain far ahead of him banished every other thought. It might be that it was Helga. He crunched on eagerly. Then he dipped into the valley and lost sight of the speck, found it on the bridge, dipped again, and again it was lost to view.
It was not until the fence of Glum Starkadsson's farm was plainly in sight, that he caught another glimpse of it. But this time it was coming toward him, from the gateway.
Certainly that long crimson cloak and full crimson hood belonged to Helga. In a moment, she waved her hand at him. Soon he could see her face under the white fur border. Her scarlet lips were curving in a smile. The snow-glare brought out the dazzling fairness of her pearly skin, and her eyes were like two radiant blue stars. It seemed to Alwin that he had never known before how beautiful she was. A strange shyness came over him, that weighted his feet and left him without a word to say when they met.
But Helga greeted him cheerily. "Did you ever breathe finer air? I wish Thorhild would run out of gold thread every day in the week. Are you in a hurry?"
"No," Alwin began hesitatingly, "I—"
She did not wait for the end. "Then turn back with me a little way, and I will tell you something worth hearing."
He turned obediently and walked beside her, trying to think how to put what he had come to say.
"You remember hearing of Egil's father Olaf, who was so ill-tempered that Egil dared not go home and confess that he had become a Christian? Gunnlaug Starkadsson returned this morning from visiting his wife, and she says that last night the old man's horse threw him so that his head hit against a stone, and it caused his death."
She made an impressive pause; but Alwin stalked along in silence, grinding his heels deep into the snow.
"Do you not see what that means?" she asked, impatiently. "Egil will now come into his inheritance, and become one of the richest men in the Settlement."
The trouble was that, in the first flash, Alwin had seen it all too plainly. He had seen that now Egil would become just such a man as Leif was wishing to bargain with. The thought burnt him like a hot iron, and he opened his lips to pour out his frenzy; but he could not find the words.
After a moment he said, sullenly: "I should be thankful if he would leave Leif's service, so that I could sometimes speak to you without having him watch me like a dog at a rabbit-hole."
Helga turned toward him with frank interest. "I wonder at that also. He does not act so when I speak to Sigurd or Rolf. But then, he has behaved very strangely to me ever since he talked with Skroppa in Iceland, two seasons ago."
"He spoke to me of Skroppa the first time I saw him," Alwin said, absently. Then a flicker of curiosity awoke in him. "I wish that you would tell me what 'Skroppa' stands for. I do not know whether it is man or beast or demon."
Even out there in the open, Helga glanced about for listeners before she answered. "Skroppa is a fore-knowing woman, who lives among the unsettled places north of here, in a cabin down in a hollow. Though Leif will not admit it, it was she who took the curse off Eric's sword."
It seemed to Alwin that here at last was an opening. He said harshly: "I wonder if she would be wise enough to tell whom Leif will marry you to before the feasting is over?"
Helga stood still and looked at him. "What are you talking about?"
He stopped in front of her, with a fierce gesture, and in one angry burst told her all he had heard. He could not understand how she could listen so calmly, kicking the snow with the toe of her shoe.
When he had finished, she said quietly: "Yes, I know he has that intention in his mind. It is for that reason that every time I go to a feast he gives me costly ornaments, and makes me wear them. I have had great kindness from his hands. But do not let us speak of it further."
Alwin caught her roughly by her wrists, and shook her a little as he looked into her eyes. "You must not let him marry you to anyone. Do you hear? Youmustnot,Ilove you."
Helga's look of resentment changed to one of pleased surprise, and she shook his hands heartily. "Do you truly, comrade? I am glad, for I like you very much indeed,—as much as I like Sigurd."
"Then swear by your knife that you will not let him marry you to anyone."
She pulled her hands away, a little impatiently. "Why do you ask that which is useless?"
"But you have just said that you liked me."
"I do; but what does that matter, since I cannot marry you?"
So light had the yoke of servitude grown on Alwin's shoulders that he had almost forgotten its existence. He opened his lips to ask, "Why?" Then it came back to him that he was a slave, a worthless, helpless dog of a slave. He closed his lips again and walked on without speaking, staring ahead of him with fierce, despairing eyes.
Moderately wiseShould each one be,But never over-wise:His destiny let knowNo man beforehand;His mind will be freest from care.Ha'vama'l
Because it was Yule Eve, the long deserted temple on the plain was filled with light and sound. Fires blazed upon the floor; the row of gilded idols came out of the shadow and shone in all their splendor. The altars were reddened with the blood of slaughtered cattle; the tapestried walls had been spattered with it. The temple priest dipped a bunch of twigs into the brimming copper bowl, and sprinkled the sacrificial blood over the people who sat along the walls ... They raised the consecrated horns and drank the sacred toasts. To Odin! For victory and power. To Njord! To Frey! For peace and a good year ... Eric of Brattahlid laid his hands upon the atonement boar and made a solemn vow to render justice unto all men, whatsoever their transgressions. The others followed him in this, as in everything.
Because this was happening in the temple, Brattahlid, the source of light and good cheer, was dark and gloomy. In the great hall there was no illumination save the flickering firelight. Black shadows blotted out the corners and stretched across the ceiling. The long benches were emptied of all save Leif's followers and Thorhild's band of women. The men sat like a row of automatons, drinking steadily, in deep silence, with furtive glances toward their leader. Leif leaned back in his high-seat, neither speaking nor drinking, scowling down into the flames.
"He is angry because Eric keeps up the heathen sacrifice," the women whispered in each other's ears. "He has all of Eric's temper when he is angered. It would be as much as one's life were worth to go near him now." Shivering with nervousness, they crouched on the bench beside their mistress's seat.
Thorhild leaned on the arm of her chair, shading her brow with her hand that she might gaze at Leif unseen. Sometimes her eyes dwelt on his face, and sometimes they rested on the silver crucifix that shone on his breast; and so great was her tenderness for the one, that she embraced the other also in a look of yearning love.
When the house-thralls had cleared away the tables, they crept into a corner and stayed there, fearing even to go forward and replenish the sinking fire, though gusts of bitter cold came through the broken window behind them.
Little as they guessed it, something besides cold was coming through the hole in the window. Even while they shivered and nodded beneath it, a pair of gray Saxon eyes were sending keen glances through it, searching every corner.
As the eyes turned back to the outer darkness, Alwin's voice whispered with a long breath of relief: "I am certain they have not noticed that we have gone out."
From the darkness, Sigurd's voice interrupted softly: "Is Kark there?"
"I think he is still in his comer. The light is bad, and the flames are leaping between, but it seems to me that I can make him out."
They emerged from the shadow into the moonlight, and it became evident that Sigurd was shaking his head dubiously.
"It seems to me also that I heard the door creak after us, and saw a shadow slip past as we turned this corner. He is always on the watch; it might easily be that our going out aroused his suspicions so that he is hiding somewhere to track us. More than anything else in the world, is he desirous to catch you in some disobedience."
Alwin tramped on doggedly. To all appearances, the court was as deserted as a graveyard at midnight. Not even the whinny of a horse broke the stillness. They passed into the shadow of a storehouse, and Alwin dived into, the recess under the steps and began to fumble for something hidden there. When he drew out a pair of skees and proceeded to put them on, Sigurd burst forth with increased vehemence.
"Alwin, I implore you to heed my advice. My mind tells me that nothing but evil can come of meddling with Skroppa. There will be no limit to Leif's anger if he—"
"I tell you he will not find out," Alwin answered over his shoulder. "His mind is so full of Eric's ill-doings, that he will not notice my absence before I am back again. And to-night is the only night when I am not in danger of being spied upon by Eric's men. It is my only chance."
"Yet Kark—"
"Kark may go into the hands of the Trolls!"
"It is not unlikely that you will accompany him. You are doing a great sin. Harald Fairhair burned his son alive for meddling with witchcraft."
Although his toes were thrust into the straps of the runner-like skees, Alwin stamped with exasperation. "You need not tell me that again. I know as well as you that it is a sin. But will not penance make it right?"
"You will dishonor Leif's holy mission."
"I shall not cause any quarrel, nor offend anyone. What harm can I do?"
Sigurd laid his hands on his friend's shoulders and tried to see his face in the dark. "Give it up, comrade; I beseech you to give it up. If you should be discovered, I tell you that though a priest might win you a pardon from Heaven, no power on earth could make your peace with Leif Ericsson."
Alwin said slowly: "If he discovers what I have done, I will endure any punishment he chooses, because I owe him some obedience while I eat his bread and wear his clothes. But I am not his born thrall, so I will have my own way first. Urge me no more, brother; my mind is fixed."
Sigurd released him instantly. "I will say nothing further,—except that it is my intention to try my luck with you." Stooping into the recess, he drew out an-other pair of skees and began to fasten them on.
At the prospect of companionship, Alwin felt a rush of relief,—then a twinge of compunction.
"Sigurd, you must not do this thing. There is no reason why you should run this risk."
"There would be no reason why you should call me your friend if I did otherwise," Sigurd cut him short. "Do you think me a craven, to let you go alone where you might be tricked or murdered? Have you a weapon?"
"Leif will not allow me so much as a dagger, so to-night I borrowed from his table the old brass-hilted knife that Eric gave him in his boyhood. It is unlikely that he will miss that. I have it here." Throwing back his cloak, he showed it thrust through his girdle.
"Come, then," said Sigurd curtly. "And have a care for your skees. You are not over-skilful yet."
He caught up the long staff that acts something like a balance-pole in skeeing, and darted away. Alwin followed, with an occasional prod of his staff into a shadow that seemed thicker than it should be. By a side-gate, they left the courtyard and struck out across the fields, where the snow was packed as hard as a road-bed. Noiseless as birds, and almost as swift, they skimmed along over the snow-clad plains and half-frozen marshes.
As was to have been expected, the young Viking was an expert. To see him shoot down a hillside at lightning speed, his skees as firmly parallel as though they were of one piece, his graceful body bending, balancing, steering, was to see the next best thing to flying. Alwin's runners threw him more than once, lapping one over the other as he was zigzagging up a slope, so that he tripped and rolled until a snow-bank stopped him.
As he regained his feet after one of these interruptions, he made some angry remark; but beyond this there was little said. It was a dreary night to be on an uncanny errand, with a chill in the air that seemed to freeze the heart. A fitful, spiteful wind drove the clouds like frightened sheep, and strove to blow out the pale patient moon. Sometimes it seemed almost to succeed; suddenly, when they most needed light to guide their six-foot runners between the great boulders, the light would go out like a torch in the water. The gusts lay in wait for them at the corners, to leap out and lash their faces with a shriek that chattered their teeth. The lulls between the gusts were even worse; it seemed as though the whole world were holding its breath in dread. They held theirs, darting uneasy glances at the glacier wall glittering far ahead of them.
When a long, low wail smote their ears, their hearts leaped into their throats. They were travelling along the edge of a black ravine. Halting, they stood with suspended breath, staring down into the darkness.
The cry came again, yet more piercing; then suddenly it split into a hissing sound like a kettle boiling over. Alwin broke into a nervous laugh. "Cats!" he said.
But Sigurd stiffened as quickly as he had relaxed. "One of Skroppa's! She swarms with them. See! Is not that a light down there?"
A sudden flicker there certainly was,—if it was not a ghost-fire. The last cloud scurried from before the face of the long-suffering moon; before the wind could bring up another fleecy flock, the pale light crept down into the hollow and revealed the dark outline of a cabin clinging among the rocks.
Alwin slipped out of his skees and made sure of his knife. "That, then, is her house. We will leave the skees here."
"Though you never were known to heed advice, I will offer you another piece," Sigurd answered. "We must go softly; and if we find the door unlocked, enter quickly and without knocking. Otherwise it is possible that we will stay outside and talk to the stones."
It was a tedious descent, yet somehow the time seemed plenty short enough before they stood at the threshold. The stillness at the bottom of the hollow was death-like; only the flickering light on the window spoke of life. Silently the door yielded to Alwin's touch.
Darkness and a dying fire were all that met their eyes. They thought the room empty, and took a step forward. Instantly the space was alive with the green eyes of countless cats. The air was split with yowlings and spittings and hissing. Soft furry bodies bounced against them and bit and clawed around their legs. From the farthest corner came the lisping voice of a toothless old woman.
"Who dares interrupt my sleep when the visions of things I wish to know are passing before me? Better would it be for him to put his hand into the mouth of the Fenriswolf."
Alwin said slowly, "It is the English thrall."
After a pause, the voice answered crossly, "I know no English thrall."
"How comes it, then, that more than a year ago you told something concerning him which made Egil Olafsson his mortal foe?"
Out of the darkness came a sudden cackling laugh. "That is true. I told the Black One that the maiden he loved would love an English thrall instead. And he wished to stick his sword through me!"
"Is that what you told him?" cried Alwin, in amazement.
Sigurd echoed the cry. Yet as their minds ran back over Egil's strange actions, they could not doubt that this was the key that unlocked their mystery.
From an invisible corner came a stir, a creak, and then the sound of feet lighting softly on the floor. A tiny figure appeared on the edge of the shadows beyond the dying fire. The light fell upon furry gray feet; and Alwin's first thought was that a monstrous cat had dropped down. Then the flames leaped higher, and showed a furry cloak and a furry hood, and from its fuzzy depths protruding, a sharp yellow beak for a nose, and a hairy yellow peak for a chin. Of eyes, one saw nothing at all.
Out of the fuzzy depths came a lisping voice. "When a thrall of Leif Ericsson, who is also a Christian, thinks it worth while to risk his life and his soul to consult me, I forgive it that I am wakened at midnight. It is a compliment to my powers that I do not take ill. Say what you wish to learn from me."
Alwin felt Sigurd touch him reproachfully, and shame burned in his cheeks; but he had gone too far to retreat. He said bluntly: "I wish to know whether Helga, Gilli's daughter, is to be given to Egil. Each time he speaks across the floor to her, I am as though I were pricked with sharp knives. I have endured it through three feasts; but I look upon her with such eyes of love, that I can bear it no longer."
"I will dull those knives, even as Odin blunts the weapons of his enemies. Helga will not be given to Egil, because he is too haughty to ask for her since he knows that she loves you instead of him."
It had seemed to Alwin that if he could only know this, he would be satisfied; yet now his questions piled upon each other.
"Then do you promise that she will be given to me? How am I to save her? How am I to get my freedom? How long am I to wait?"
The Sibyl sank her head upon her breast so that her nose and chin quite disappeared, and she stood before them like some furry headless beast. There was a long pause. Alwin nervously followed the pairs of eyes, noiselessly appearing and disappearing, from floor to ceiling, in every part of the room. Sigurd set his back against the door and carried on a silent struggle with the heavy lumps, hanging by teeth and claws upon his cloak.
At last Skroppa raised her head and answered haltingly: "You ask too much, according to the time and the place. To know all that clearly, I should sit on a witches' platform and eat witches' broth, and have women stand about me and sing weird songs. Without music, spirits do not like to help. I can only see bits, vaguely as through a fog... I see your body lying on the ground I see a ship where never ship was seen before I see—I see Leif Ericsson standing upon earth where never man stood before. It seems to me that I read great luck in his face... And I see you standing beside him, though you do not look as you look now, for your hair is long and black. The light is so bright that I cannot... Yes, one thing more is open to my sight. I see that it is in this new land that it will be settled whether your luck is to be good or bad."
She stopped. They waited for her to go on; but soon it became evident that the foretelling was finished. With all his prudence, Sigurd began to laugh; and Alwin burst out in a passion of impatience: "For which, you gabbler? For which? I can make nothing of such jargon. Tell me in plain words whether it will be for good or ill."
Skroppa answered just one word: "Jargon!"
Alwin stormed on unheeding, but Sigurd's laughter stopped: something in the tone of that one word chilled his blood and braced his muscles like a frost. He strained his eyes to pierce the shadow and make out what she was doing; and it seemed to him that he could no longer see her. She had disappeared,—where? In a sudden panic he groped behind him for the door; found it and flung it open. It was well that the moon was shining at that moment.
"Alwin!" he shouted. The yellow face was close to the thrall's unconscious shoulder; one evil claw-like hand was almost at his cheek. What she would have done, she alone knew.
While his cry was still in the air, Sigurd pulled his companion away and through the door. Up the steep they went like cats. Near the top, Alwin tripped, and his knife slipped from his belt and fell against a boulder. It lay there shining, but neither of them noticed it. Into their skees, and over the crusted plains they went,—reindeer could not have caught them.