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diff --git a/12847-0.txt b/12847-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5cbdc07 --- /dev/null +++ b/12847-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10329 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12847 *** + +Havelok the Dane: A Legend of Old Grimsby and Lincoln. + +By Charles W. Whistler, M.R.C.S. + + + + +CONTENTS + + PREFACE. + CHAPTER I. GRIM THE FISHER AND HIS SONS. + CHAPTER II. KING HODULF’S SECRET. + CHAPTER III. HAVELOK, SON OF GUNNAR. + CHAPTER IV. ACROSS THE SWAN’S PATH. + CHAPTER V. STORM AND SHIPWRECK. + CHAPTER VI. THE BEGINNING OF GRIMSBY TOWN. + CHAPTER VII. BROTHERHOOD. + CHAPTER VIII. BERTHUN THE COOK. + CHAPTER IX. CURAN THE PORTER. + CHAPTER X. KING ALSI OF LINDSEY. + CHAPTER XI. THE COMING OF THE PRINCESS. + CHAPTER XII. IN LINCOLN MARKETPLACE. + CHAPTER XIII. THE WITAN’S FEASTING. + CHAPTER XIV. THE CRAFT OF ALSI THE KING. + CHAPTER XV. THE FORTUNE OF CURAN THE PORTER. + CHAPTER XVI. A STRANGEST WEDDING. + CHAPTER XVII. HOW THE BRIDE WENT HOME. + CHAPTER XVIII. JARL SIGURD OF DENMARK. + CHAPTER XIX. THE LAST OF GRIFFIN OF WALES. + CHAPTER XX. THE OWNING OF THE HEIR. + CHAPTER XXI. THE TOKEN OF SACK AND ANCHOR. + CHAPTER XXII. KING ALSI’S WELCOME. + CHAPTER XXIII. BY TETFORD STREAM. + CHAPTER XXIV. PEACE, AND FAREWELL. + + + + +PREFACE. + + +If any excuse is needed for recasting the ancient legend of Grim the +fisher and his foster-son Havelok the Dane, it may be found in the +fascination of the story itself, which made it one of the most popular +legends in England from the time of the Norman conquest, at least, to +that of Elizabeth. From the eleventh to the thirteenth centuries it +seems to have been almost classic; and during that period two full +metrical versions—one in Norman-French and the other in English—were +written, besides many other short versions and abridgments, which still +exist. These are given exhaustively by Professor Skeat in his edition +of the English poem for the Early English Text Society, and it is +needless to do more than refer to them here as the sources from which +this story is gathered. + +These versions differ most materially from one another in names and +incidents, while yet preserving the main outlines of the whole history. +It is evident that there has been a far more ancient, orally-preserved +tradition, which has been the original of the freely-treated poems and +concise prose statements of the legend which we have. And it seems +possible, from among the many variations, and from under the disguise +of the mediaeval forms in which it has been hidden, to piece together +what this original may have been, at least with some probability. + +We have one clue to the age of the legend of Havelok in the statement +by the eleventh-century Norman poet that his tale comes from a British +source, which at least gives a very early date for the happenings +related; while another version tells us that the king of “Lindesie” was +a Briton. Welsh names occur, accordingly, in several places; and it is +more than likely that the old legend preserved a record of actual +events in the early days of the Anglo-Saxon settlement in England, when +there were yet marriages between conquerors and conquered, and the +origins of Angle and Jute and Saxon were not yet forgotten in the +pedigrees of the many petty kings. + +One of the most curious proofs of the actual British origin of the +legend is in the statement that the death of Havelok’s father occurred +as the result of a British invasion of Denmark for King Arthur, by a +force under a leader with the distinctly Norse name of Hodulf. The +claim for conquest of the north by Arthur is very old, and is repeated +by Geoffrey of Monmouth, and may well have originated in the +remembrance of some successful raid on the Danish coasts by the Norse +settlers in the Gower district of Pembrokeshire, in company with a +contingent of their Welsh neighbours. + +This episode does not occur in the English version; but here an attack +on Havelok on his return home to Denmark is made by men led by one +Griffin, and this otherwise unexplainable survival of a Welsh name +seems to connect the two accounts in some way that recalls the ancient +legend at the back of both. + +I have therefore treated the Welsh element in the story as deserving a +more prominent place, at least in subsidiary incidents, than it has in +the two old metrical versions. It has been possible to follow neither +of these exactly, as in names and details they are widely apart; but to +one who knows both, the sequence of events will, I think, be clear +enough. + +I have, for the same reason of the British origin of the legend, +preferred the simple and apposite derivation of the name of “Curan,” +taken by the hero during his servitude, from the Welsh _Cwran_, “a +wonder,” to the Norman explanation of the name as meaning a “scullion,” +which seems to be rather a guess, based on the menial position of the +prince, than a translation. + +For the long existence of a Welsh servile population in the lowlands of +Lincolnshire there is evidence enough in the story of Guthlac of +Crowland, and the type may still be found there. There need be little +excuse for claiming some remains of their old Christianity among them, +and the “hermit” who reads the dream for the princess may well have +been a half-forgotten Welsh priest. But the mediaeval poems have +Christianized the ancient legend, until it would seem to stand in +somewhat the same relationship to what it was as the German +“Niebelungen Lied” does to the “Volsunga Saga.” + +With regard to the dreams which recur so constantly, I have in the case +of the princess transferred the date of hers to the day previous to her +marriage, the change only involving a difference of a day, but seeming +to he needed, as explanatory of her sudden submission to her guardian. +And instead of crediting Havelok with the supernatural light bodily, it +has been transferred to the dream which seems to haunt those who have +to do with him. + +As to the names of the various characters, they are in the old versions +hardly twice alike. I have, therefore, taken those which seem to have +been modernized from their originals, or preserved by simple +transliteration, and have set them back in what seems to have been +their first form. Gunther, William, and Bertram, for instance, seem to +be modernized from Gunnar, Withelm, and perhaps Berthun; while Sykar, +Aunger, and Gryme are but alternative English spellings of the northern +Sigurd, Arngeir, and Grim. + +The device on Havelok’s banner in chapter xxi. is exactly copied from +the ancient seal of the Corporation of Grimsby,[1] which is of the date +of Edward the First. The existence of this is perhaps the best proof +that the story of Grim and Havelok is more than a romance. Certainly +the Norse “Heimskringla” record claims an older northern origin for the +town than that of the Danish invasion of Alfred’s time; and the +historic freedom of its ships from toll in the port of Elsinore has +always been held to date from the days of its founder. + +The strange and mysterious “blue stones” of Grimsby and Louth are yet +in evidence, and those of the former town are connected by legend with +Grim. Certainly they have some very ancient if long-forgotten +associations, and it is more than likely that they have been brought as +“palladia” with the earliest northern settlers. A similar stone exists +in the centre of the little East Anglian town of Harleston, with a +definite legend of settlement attached to it; and there may be others. +The Coronation Stone of Westminster and the stone in Kingston-on-Thames +are well-known proofs of the ancient sanctity that surrounded such +objects for original reasons that are now lost. + +The final battle at Tetford, with its details, are from the Norman +poem. The later English account is rounded off with the disgrace and +burning alive of the false guardian; but for many reasons the earlier +seems to be the more correct account. Certainly the mounds of some +great forgotten fight remain in the Tetford valley, and Havelok is said +to have come to “Carleflure,” which, being near Saltfleet, and on the +road to Tetford, may be Canton, where there is a strong camp of what is +apparently Danish type. + +Those who can read with any comfort the crabbed Norman-French and Early +English poetic versions will see at once where I have added incidents +that may bring the story into a connected whole, as nearly as possible +on the old Saga lines; and those readers to whom the old romance is new +will hardly wish that I should pull the story to pieces again, to no +purpose so far as they are concerned. And, at least, for a fairly free +treatment of the subject, I have the authority of those previous +authors whom I have mentioned. + +In the different versions, the founder of Grimsby is variously +described as a steward of the Danish king’s castle, a merchant, a +fisher, and in the English poem—probably because it was felt that none +other would have undertaken the drowning of the prince—as a thrall. +Another version gives no account of the sack episode, but says that +Grim finds both queen and prince wandering on the shore. Grim the +fisher is certainly a historic character in his own town, and it has +not been hard to combine the various callings of the worthy +foster-father of Havelok and the troubles of both mother and son. A +third local variant tells that Havelok was found at Grimsby by the +fisher adrift in an open boat; and I have given that boat also a place +in the story, in a different way. + +The names of the kings are too far lost to be set back in their place +in history, but Professor Skeet gives the probable date of Havelok and +Grim as at the end of the sixth century, with a possible identification +of the former with the “governor of Lincoln” baptized by Paulinus. I +have, therefore, assumed this period where required. But a legend of +this kind is a romance of all time, and needs no confinement to date +and place. Briton and Saxon, Norman and Englishman, and maybe Norseman +and Dane, have loved the old story, and with its tale of right and love +triumphant it still has its own power. + +Stockland, _1899_ + +Chas. W. Whistler + + + + +CHAPTER I. +GRIM THE FISHER AND HIS SONS. + + +This story is not about myself, though, because I tell of things that I +have seen, my name must needs come into it now and then. The man whose +deeds I would not have forgotten is my foster-brother, Havelok, of whom +I suppose every one in England has heard. Havelok the Dane men call him +here, and that is how he will always be known, as I think. + +He being so well known, it is likely that some will write down his +doings, and, not knowing them save by hearsay, will write them wrongly +and in different ways, whereof will come confusion, and at last none +will be believed. Wherefore, as he will not set them down himself, it +is best that I do so. Not that I would have anyone think that the +penmanship is mine. Well may I handle oar, and fairly well axe and +sword, as is fitting for a seaman, but the pen made of goose feather is +beyond my rough grip in its littleness, though I may make shift to use +a sail-needle, for it is stiff and straightforward in its ways, and no +scrawling goeth therewith. + +Therefore my friend Wislac, the English priest, will be the penman, +having skill thereto. I would have it known that I can well trust him +to write even as I speak, though he has full leave to set aside all +hard words and unseemly, such as a sailor is apt to use unawares; and +where my Danish way of speaking goeth not altogether with the English, +he may alter the wording as he will, so long as the sense is always the +same. Then, also, will he read over to me what he has written, and +therefore all may be sure that this is indeed my true story. + + +Now, as it is needful that one begins at the beginning, it happens that +the first thing to be told is how I came to be Havelok’s +foster-brother, and that seems like beginning with myself after all. +But all the story hangs on this, and so there is no help for it. + +If it is asked when this beginning might be, I would say, for an +Englishman who knows not the names of Danish kings, that it was before +the first days of the greatness of Ethelbert of Kent, the overlord of +all England, the Bretwalda, and therefore, as Father Wislac counts, +about the year of grace 580. But King Ethelbert does not come into the +story, nor does the overlord of all Denmark; for the kings of whom I +must speak were under-kings, though none the less kingly for all that. +One must ever be the mightiest of many; and, as in England, there were +at that time many kings in Denmark, some over wide lands and others +over but small realms, with that one who was strong enough to make the +rest pay tribute to him as overlord, and only keeping that place by the +power of the strong hand, not for any greater worth. + +Our king on the west coast of Denmark, where the story of Havelok the +Dane must needs begin, was Gunnar Kirkeban—so called because, being a +heathen altogether, as were we all in Denmark at that time, he had been +the bane of many churches in the western isles of Scotland, and in +Wales and Ireland, and made a boast thereof. However, that cruelty of +his was his own bane in the end, as will be seen. Otherwise he was a +well-loved king and a great warrior, tall, and stronger than any man in +Denmark, as was said. His wife, the queen, was a foreigner, but the +fairest of women. Her name was Eleyn, and from this it was thought that +she came from the far south. Certainly Gunnar had brought her back from +Gardariki,[2] whither he had gone on a trading journey one year. Gunnar +and she had two daughters and but one son, and that son was Havelok, at +this time seven years old. + +Next to the king came our own lord, Jarl Sigurd, older than Gunnar, and +his best counsellor, though in the matter of sparing harmless and +helpless church folk his advice was never listened to. His hall was +many miles from the king’s place, southward down the coast. + +Here, too, lived my father, Grim, with us in a good house which had +been his father’s before him. Well loved by Jarl Sigurd was Grim, who +had ever been his faithful follower, and was the best seaman in all the +town. He was also the most skilful fisher on our coasts, being by birth +a well-to-do freeman enough, and having boats of his own since he could +first sail one. At one time the jarl had made him steward of his house; +but the sea drew him ever, and he waxed restless away from it. +Therefore, after a time, he asked the jarl’s leave to take to the sea +again, and so prospered in the fishery that at last he bought a large +trading buss from the Frisian coast, and took to the calling of the +merchant. + +So for some years my father, stout warrior as he proved himself in many +a fight at his lord’s side, traded peacefully—that is, so long as men +would suffer him to do so; for it happened more than once that his ship +was boarded by Vikings, who in the end went away, finding that they had +made a mistake in thinking that they had found a prize in a harmless +trader, for Grim was wont to man his ship with warriors, saying that +what was worth trading was worth keeping. I mind me how once he came to +England with a second cargo, won on the high seas from a Viking’s +plunder, which the Viking brought alongside our ship, thinking to add +our goods thereto. Things went the other way, and we left him only an +empty ship, which maybe was more than he would have spared to us. That +was on my second voyage, when I was fifteen. + +Mostly my father traded to England, for there are few of the Saxon kin +who take ship for themselves, and the havens to which he went were +Tetney and Saltfleet, on the Lindsey shore of Humber, where he soon had +friends. + +So Grim prospered and waxed rich fast, and in the spring of the year +wherein the story begins was getting the ship ready for the first +cruise of the season, meaning to be afloat early; for then there was +less trouble with the wild Norse Viking folk, for one cruise at least. +Then happened that which set all things going otherwise than he had +planned, and makes my story worth telling. + +We—that is my father Grim, Leva my mother, my two brothers and myself, +and our two little sisters, Gunhild and Solva—sat quietly in our great +room, busy at one little thing or another, each in his way, before the +bright fire that burned on the hearth in the middle of the floor. There +was no trouble at all for us to think of more than that the wind had +held for several weeks in the southwest and northwest, and we wondered +when it would shift to its wonted springtide easting, so that we could +get the ship under way once more for the voyage she was prepared for. +Pleasant talk it was, and none could have thought that it was to be the +last of many such quiet evenings that had gone before. + +Yet it seemed that my father was uneasy, and we had been laughing at +him for his silence, until he said, looking into the fire, “I will tell +you what is on my mind, and then maybe you will laugh at me the more +for thinking aught of the matter. Were I in any but a peaceful land, I +should say that a great battle had been fought not so far from us, and +to the northward.” + +Then my mother looked up at him, knowing that he had seen many fights, +and was wise in the signs that men look for before them; but she asked +nothing, and so I said, “What makes you think this, father?” + +He answered me with another question. + +“How many kites will you see overhead at any time, sons?” + +I wondered at this, but it was easy to answer—to Raven, at least. + +“Always one, and sometimes another within sight of the first,” Raven +said. + +“And if there is food, what then?” + +“The first swoops down on it, and the next follows, and the one that +watches the second follows that, and so on until there are many kites +gathered.” + +“What if one comes late?” + +“He swings overhead and screams, and goes back to his place; then no +more come.” + +“Ay,” he said; “you will make a sailor yet, son Raven, for you watch +things. Now I will tell you what I saw today. There was the one kite +sailing over my head as I was at the ship garth, and presently it +screamed so that I looked up. Then it left its wide circles over the +town, and flew northward, straight as an arrow. Then from the southward +came another, following it, and after that another, and yet others, all +going north. And far off I could see where others flew, and they too +went north. And presently flapped over me the ravens in the wake of the +kites, and the great sea eagles came in screaming and went the same +way, and so for all the time that I was at the ship, and until I came +home.” + +“There is a sacrifice to the Asir somewhere,” I said, “for the birds of +Odin and Thor have always their share.” + +My father shook his head. + +“The birds cry to one another, as I think, and say when the feast is +but enough for those that have gathered. They have cried now that there +is room for all at some great feasting. Once have I seen the like +before, and that was when I was with the ship guard when the jarl +fought his great battle in the Orkneys; we knew that he had fought by +the same token.” + +But my mother said that I was surely right. There was no fear of battle +here, and indeed with Gunnar and Sigurd to guard the land we had had +peace for many a long year on our own coasts, if other lands had had to +fear them. My father laughed a little, saying that perhaps it was so, +and then my mother took the two little ones and went with them into the +sleeping room to put them to rest, while I and my two brothers went out +to the cattle garth to see that all was well for the night. + +Then, when our eyes were used to the moonlight, which was not very +bright, away to the northward we saw a red glow that was not that of +the sunset or of the northern lights, dying down now and then, and then +again flaring up as will a far-off fire; and even as we looked we heard +the croak of an unseen raven flying thitherward overhead. + +“Call father,” I said to Withelm, who was the youngest of us three. The +boy ran in, and presently my father came out and looked long at the +glow in the sky. + +“Even as I thought,” he said. “The king’s town is burning, and I must +go to tell the jarl. Strange that we have had no message. Surely the +king’s men must be hard pressed if this is a foe’s work.” + +So he went at once, leaving us full of wonder and excited, as boys will +be at anything that is new and has a touch of fear in it. But he had +hardly gone beyond the outbuildings when one came running and calling +him. The jarl had sent for him, for there was strange news from the +king. Then he and this messenger hastened off together. + +In half an hour the war horns were blowing fiercely, and all the quiet +town was awake, for my father’s forebodings were true, and the foe was +on us. In our house my mother was preparing the food that her husband +should carry with him, and I was putting a last polish on the arms that +should keep him, while the tramp of men who went to the gathering rang +down the street, one by one at first, and then in twos and threes. My +mother neither wept nor trembled, but worked with a set face that would +not show fear. + +Then came in my father, and I armed him, begging at the same time that +I might go also, for I could use _my_ weapons well enough; but he told +me that some must needs bide at home as a guard, and that I was as much +wanted there as at the king’s place, wherewith I had to be content. It +was by no means unlikely that we also might be attacked, if it was true +that the king’s men were outnumbered, as was said. + +Now when my father went to say farewell to us, nowhere could be found +my brother Withelm. + +“The boy has gone to watch the muster,” my father said. “I shall see +him there presently.” + +Then, because he saw that my mother was troubled more than her wont, he +added, “Have no fear for me. This will be no more than a raid of +Norsemen, and they will plunder and be away with the tide before we get +to the place.” + +So he laughed and went out, having done his best to cheer us all, and I +went with him to where the men were gathered in their arms in the wide +space in the midst of the houses. There I sought for little Withelm, +but could not find him among the women and children who looked on; and +before we had been there more than a few minutes the jarl gave the +word, and the march was begun. There were about fifteen miles to be +covered between our town and the king’s. + +I watched them out of sight, and then went home, having learned that I +was to be called out only in case of need. And as I drew near the +homestead I saw a light in the little ash grove that was behind the +garth.[3] In the midst of the trees, where this light seemed to be, was +our wooden image of Thor the Hammer Bearer, older than any of us could +tell; and in front of this was what we used as his altar—four +roughly-squared stones set together. These stones were blue-black in +colour, and whence they came I do not know, unless it was true that my +forefathers brought them here when first Odin led his folk to the +northern lands. Always they had been the altar for my people, and my +father held that we should have no luck away from them. + +So it was strange to see a light in that place, where none would +willingly go after dark, and half was I feared to go and see what it +might mean. But then it came into my mind that the enemy might be +creeping on the house through the grove, and that therefore I must +needs find out all about it. So I went softly to the nearest trees, and +crept from one to another, ever getting closer to the light; and I will +say that I feared more that I might see some strange thing that was +more than mortal than that I should see the leading foeman stealing +towards me. But presently it was plain that the light did not move as +if men carried it, but it flickered as a little fire; and at last I saw +that it burned on the altar stones, and that frightened me so that I +almost fled. + +Maybe I should have done so, but that I heard a voice that I knew; and +so, looking once more, I saw a figure standing before the fire, and +knew it. It was little Withelm, and why a ten-year-old boy should be +here I could not think. But I called him softly, and he started +somewhat, turning and trying to look through the darkness towards me, +though he did not seem afraid. There was a little fire of dry sticks +burning on the stones, and the gaunt old statue seemed to look more +terrible than ever in its red blaze. One might have thought that the +worn face writhed itself as the light played over it. + +“It is I, Withelm,” I said softly, for the fear of the place was on me. +“We have sought you everywhere, and father would have wished you +farewell. What are you doing here?” + +I came forward then, for it was plain that the child feared nothing, so +that I was put to shame. And as I came I asked once more what he was +doing in this place. + +“The jarl has surely forgotten the sacrifice to the Asir before the +warriors went to fight, and they will be angry,” he answered very +calmly. “It is right that one should remember, and I feared for father, +and therefore—” + +He pointed to the altar, and I saw that he had laid his own untasted +supper on the fire that he had lighted, and I had naught to say. The +thing was over-strange to me, who thought nothing of these things. It +was true that the host always sacrificed before sailing on the Viking +path, but tonight had been urgent haste. + +“Thor will not listen to any but a warrior,” I said. “Come home, +brother, for mother waits us.” + +“If not Thor, who is maybe busy at the battle they talk of, then do I +think that All Father will listen,” he said stoutly. “But this was all +that I had to make sacrifice withal, and it may not be enough.” + +“The jarl will make amends when he comes back,” I said, wishing to get +home and away from this place, and yet unwilling to chide the child. +“Now let us go, for mother will grow anxious.” + +With that he put his hand in mine, and we both saluted Thor, as was +fitting, and then went homeward. It seemed to me that the glare in the +north was fiercer now than when I had first seen it. + +Now, after my mother had put Withelm to bed, I told her how I had found +him; and thereat she wept a little, as I could see in the firelight. + +After a long silence she said, “Strange things and good come into the +mind of a child, and one may learn what his fate shall be in the days +to come. I am sure from this that Withelm will be a priest.” + +Now as one may buy the place of a godar, with the right to have a +temple of the Asir for a district and the authority that goes +therewith, if so be that one falls vacant or is to be given up by the +holder, this did not seem unlikely, seeing how rich we were fast +growing. And indeed my mother’s saying came to pass hereafter, though +not at all in the way of which we both thought. + +There was no alarm that night. The old warriors watched round the town +and along the northern tracks, but saw nothing, and in the morning the +black smoke hung over the place of the burning, drifting slowly +seaward. The wind had changed, and they said that it would doubtless +have taken the foe away with it, as my father had hoped. So I went down +to the ship with Raven, and worked at the few things that were still +left to be done to her as she lay in her long shed on the slips, ready +to take the water at any tide. She was only waiting for cargo and +stores to be put on board her with the shift of wind that had come at +last, and I thought that my father would see to these things as soon as +he came back. + +Now in the evening we had news from the Jarl, and strange enough it +was. My father came back two days afterwards and told us all, and so I +may as well make a short story of it. The ways of Gunnar Kirkeban had +been his end, for a certain Viking chief, a Norseman, had wintered in +Wales during the past winter, and there he had heard from the Welsh of +the wrongs that they had suffered at his hands. Also he had heard of +the great booty of Welsh gold that Gunnar had taken thence in the last +summer; and so, when these Welsh asked that he would bide with them and +help fight the next Danes who came, he had offered to do more than +that—he would lead them to Gunnar’s place if they would find men to man +three ships that he had taken, and would be content to share the booty +with them. + +The Welsh king was of the line of Arthur, and one who yet hoped to win +back the land of his fathers from the Saxons and English; and so he +listened to this Hodulf, thinking to gain a powerful ally in him for +attack on the eastern coast of England after this. So, favoured by the +wind that had kept us from the sea, Hodulf, with twenty ships in all, +had fallen on Gunnar unawares, and had had an easy victory, besetting +the town in such wise that only in the confusion while the wild Welsh +were burning and plundering on every side had the messenger to the jarl +been able to slip away. + +But when the jarl and our men reached the town there was naught to be +done but to make terms with Hodulf as best he might, that the whole +country might not be overrun. For Gunnar had been slain in his own +hall, with his two young daughters and with the queen also, as was +supposed. Havelok the prince was in his hands, and for his sake +therefore Sigurd had been the more ready to come to terms. + +Then Hodulf sent messengers to the overlord of all Denmark, saying that +he would hold this kingdom as for him, and backed up that promise with +a great present from Gunnar’s treasure, so that he was listened to. +Therefore our jarl was helpless; and there being no other king strong +enough to aid him if he rose, in the end he had to take Hodulf for lord +altogether, though it went sorely against the grain. + +I have heard it said by the Welsh folk that Hodulf held the kingdom for +their lord; and it is likely that he humoured them by saying that he +would do so, which was a safe promise to make, as even King Arthur +himself could never have reached him to make him pay scatt. + + + + +CHAPTER II. +KING HODULF’S SECRET. + + +My father came home heavy and anxious enough, for he did not know how +things would go under this new king, though he had promised peace to +all men who would own him. We in our place saw nothing of him or his +men for the next few weeks, but he was well spoken of by those who had +aught to do with him elsewhere. So my father went on trying to gather a +cargo for England; but it was a slow business, as the burnt and +plundered folk of the great town had naught for us, and others sold to +them. But he would never be idle, and every day when weather served we +went fishing, for he loved his old calling well, as a man will love +that which he can do best. Our two boats and their gear were always in +the best of order, and our kinsman, Arngeir, used and tended them when +we were away in the ship in summertime. + +Now, one evening, as we came up from the shore after beaching the boat +on the hard below the town, and half a mile from the nearest houses, +and being, as one may suppose, not altogether in holiday trim, so that +Grim and his boys with their loads of fish and nets looked as though a +fisher’s hovel were all the home that they might own, we saw a +horseman, followed at a little distance by two more, riding towards us. +The dusk was gathering, and at first we thought that this was Jarl +Sigurd, who would ask us maybe to send fish to his hall, and so we set +our loads down and waited for him. + +But it was not our lord, and I had never seen this man before. From his +arms, which were of a new pattern to me, he might be one of the host of +Hodulf, as I thought. + +“Ho, fisher!” he cried, when he was yet some way from us; “leave your +lads, and come hither. I have a word for you.” + +He reined up and waited, and now I was sure that he was a Norseman, for +his speech was rougher than ours. He was a tall, handsome man enough; +but I liked neither his voice nor face, nor did I care to hear Grim, my +father, summoned in such wise, not remembering that just now a stranger +could not tell that he was aught but a fisher thrall of the jarl’s. + +But my father did as he was asked, setting down the nets that he was +carrying, and only taking with him the long boathook on which he had +slung them as he went forward. I suppose he remembered the old saying, +that a man should not stir a step on land without his weapons, as one +never knows when there may be need of them; and so, having no other, he +took this. + +I heard the first questions that the man asked, for he spoke loudly. + +“Whose man are you?” + +“Sigurd’s,” answered my father shortly. + +“Whose are the boats?” + +“Mine, seeing that I built them.” + +“Why, then, there is somewhat that you can do for me,” the horseman +said. “Is your time your own, however?” + +“If the jarl needs me not.” + +“Tonight, then?” + +“I have naught to do after I have carried the nets home.” + +“That is well,” said the stranger; and after that he dropped his voice +so that I heard no more, but he and my father talked long together. + +We waited, and at last the talk ended, and my father came hack to us, +while the stranger rode away northward along the sands. Then I asked +who the man was, and what he wanted. + +“He is some chief of these Norsemen, and one who asks more questions of +a thrall, as he thinks me, than he would dare ask Sigurd the jarl, or +Grim the merchant either, for that matter.” + +Seeing that my father did not wish to say more at this time, we asked +nothing else, but went homeward in silence. It seemed as if he was ill +at ease, and he went more quickly than was his wont, so that presently +Raven and little Withelm lagged behind us with their burdens, for our +catch had been a good one. + +Then he stopped outside the garth when we reached home, and told me not +to go in yet. And when the others came up he said to them, “Do you two +take in the things and the fish, and tell mother that Radbard and I +have to go down to the ship. There is cargo to be seen to, and it is +likely that we shall he late, so bid her not wait up for us.” + +Then he told me to come, and we left the two boys at once and turned +away towards the haven. There was nothing strange in this, for cargo +often came at odd times, and we were wont to work late in stowing it. I +did wonder that we had not stayed to snatch a bit of supper, but it +crossed my mind that the Norseman had told my father of some goods that +had maybe been waiting for the whole day while we were at sea. And then +that did not seem likely, for he had taken us for thralls. So I was +puzzled, but held my peace until it should seem good to my father to +tell me what we were about. + +When we reached a place where there was no house very near and no man +about, he said to me at last, “What is on hand I do not rightly know, +but yon man was Hodulf, the new king, as I suppose we must call him. He +would not tell me his name, but I saw him when he and the jarl made +terms the other day. Now he has bidden me meet him on the road a mile +from the town as soon as it is dark, and alone. He has somewhat secret +for me to do.” + +“It is a risk to go alone and unarmed,” I answered; “let me go home and +get your weapons, for the errand does not seem honest.” + +“That is what I think also,” said my father, “and that is why I am +going to meet him. It is a bad sign when a king has a secret to share +with a thrall, and I have a mind to find out what it is. There may be +some plot against our jarl.” + +He was silent for a few minutes, as if thinking, and then he went on. + +“I cannot take arms, or he would suspect me, and would tell me nothing; +but if there is any plotting to be done whereof I must tell the jarl, +it will be as well that you should hear it.” + +Then he said that he thought it possible for me to creep very close to +the place where he was to meet Hodulf, so that I could hear all or most +of what went on, and that I might as well be armed in case of foul +play, for he did not suppose that the Norseman would think twice about +cutting down a thrall who did not please him. + +It was almost dark by this time, and therefore he must be going. I was +not to go home for arms, but to borrow from Arngeir as we passed his +house. And this I did, saying that I had an errand beyond the town and +feared prowling men of the Norse host. Which danger being a very +reasonable one, Arngeir offered to go with me; and I had some +difficulty in preventing him from doing so, for he was like an elder +brother to all of us. However, I said that I had no great distance to +go, and feigned to be ashamed of myself for my fears; and he laughed at +me, and let me go my way with sword and spear and seax[4] also, which +last my father would take under his fisher’s jerkin. + +I caught up my father quickly, and we went along the sands northwards +until we came to the place where we must separate. The road was but a +quarter of a mile inland from this spot, for it ran near the shore, and +it was not much more than that to the place where Hodulf would be +waiting. + +“Creep as near as you can,” my father said; “but come to help only if I +call. I do not think that I am likely to do so.” + +Then we went our ways, he making straight for the road, and I turning +to my left a little. It was dark, for there was no moon now, but save +that I was soundly scratched by the brambles of the fringe of brushwood +that grew all along the low hills of the coast, there was nothing to +prevent my going on quickly, for I knew the ground well enough, by +reason of yearly bird nesting. When I reached the roadway the meeting +place was yet to my left, and I could hear my father’s footsteps coming +steadily in the distance. So I skirted the road for a little way, and +then came to an open bit of heath and rising land, beyond which I +thought I should find Hodulf. Up this I ran quickly, dropping into the +heather at the top; and sure enough, in a hollow just off the road I +could dimly make out the figure of a mounted man waiting. + +Then my father came along the road past me, and I crawled among the +tall heather clumps until I was not more than twenty paces from the +hollow, which was a little below me. + +Hodulf’s horse winded me, as I think, and threw up its head snorting, +and I heard its bit rattle. But my father was close at hand, and that +was lucky. + +“Ho, fisher, is that you?” he called softly. + +“I am here,” was the answer, and at once my father came into the hollow +from the road. + +“Are any folk about?” Hodulf said. + +“I have met none. Now, what is all this business?” answered my father. + +“Business that will make a free man of you for the rest of your days, +and rich, moreover, master thrall,” said Hodulf. “That is, if you do as +I bid you.” + +“A thrall can do naught else than what he is bidden.” + +“Nay, but he can do that in a way that will earn great reward, now and +then; and your reward for obedience and silence thereafter in this +matter shall be aught that you like to ask.” + +“This sounds as if I were to peril my life,” my father said. “I know +naught else that can be worth so much as that might be.” + +“There is no peril,” said Hodulf scornfully; “your skin shall not be so +much as scratched—ay, and if this is well done it will know a master’s +dog whip no more.” + +I heard my father chuckle with a thrall’s cunning laugh at this, and +then he said eagerly, “Well, master, what is it?” + +“I will tell you. But first will you swear as on the holy ring that of +what you shall do for me no man shall know hereafter?” + +“What I do at your bidding none shall know, and that I swear,” answered +my father slowly, as if trying to repeat the king’s words. + +“See here, then,” said Hodulf, and I heard his armour clatter as he +dismounted. + +Then the footsteps of both men shuffled together for a little while, +and once I thought I heard a strange sound as of a muffled cry, at +which Hodulf muttered under his breath. I could see that they took +something large from the saddle bow, and set it on the ground, and then +they spoke again. + +“Have you a heavy anchor?” asked the king. + +“A great one.” + +“Well, then, tie it to this sack and sink it tonight where tide will +never shift it. Then you may come to me and claim what reward you +will.” + +“Freedom, and gold enough to buy a new boat—two new boats!” said my +father eagerly. + +Hodulf laughed at that, and got on his horse again. I saw his tall form +lift itself against the dim sky as he did so. + +“What is in the sack?” asked my father. + +“That is not your concern,” Hodulf answered sharply. “If you know not, +then you can tell no man, even in your sleep. Put off at once and sink +it.” + +“It is in my mind,” said my father, “that I had better not look in the +sack. Where shall I find you, lord, when the thing is in the sea? For +as yet I have not heard your name.” + +I think that Hodulf had forgotten that he would have to answer this +question, or else he thought that everyone knew him, for he did not +reply all at once. + +“You may ask the king for your reward,” he said, after a little +thought, “for this is his business. Now you know that it will be best +for you to be secret and sure. Not much worth will your chance of +escape from torture be if this becomes known. But you know also that +the reward is certain.” + +“The king!” cried my father, with a sort of gasp of surprise. + +I could almost think that I saw him staring with mouth agape as would a +silly thrall; for so well had he taken the thrall’s part that had I not +known who was speaking all the time, I had certainly had no doubt that +one was there. + +“Come to Hodulf, the king, and pray for freedom and your gold as a boon +of his goodness, saying naught else, or making what tale you will of a +hard master, or justice, so that you speak naught of what you have +done, and that—and maybe more—shall be granted.” + +“You yourself will speak for me?” + +“I am the king—and think not that the darkness will prevent my knowing +your face again,” Hodulf replied. + +There was a threat in the words, and with them he turned his horse and +rode away quickly northwards. I heard the hoofs of his men’s horses +rattle on the road as they joined him, before he had gone far. + +When the sounds died away altogether, and there was no fear of his +coming back suddenly on us, my father whistled and I joined him. He +almost started to find how near I was. + +“You have heard all, then?” he said. + +“Every word,” I answered, “and I like it not. Where is this sack he +spoke of?” + +It lay at his feet. A large sack it was, and full of somewhat heavy and +warm that seemed to move a little when I put my hand on it. Still less +did I like the business as I felt that. + +“More also!” quoth my father, as if thinking of the king’s last words. +“If that does not mean a halter for my neck, I am mistaken. What have +we here, son, do you think?” + +“Somewhat that should not be here, certainly,” I answered. “There would +not be so much talk about drowning a dog, as one might think this to +be.” + +“Unless it were his wife’s,” answered my father, with a laugh. + +Then he stooped, and I helped him to get the sack on his shoulders. It +was heavy, but not very—not so heavy as a young calf in a sack would +be; and he carried it easily, taking my spear to help him. + +“The thrall is even going to take this to the house of Grim the +merchant, whom the king will not know again, though he may see in the +dark,” said he; “then we shall know how we stand.” + +We met no one on our way back, for the town had gone to sleep, until +the watchman passed the time of night with us, thinking no doubt that +we had fish or goods in the burden. And when we came home a sleepy +thrall opened to us, for all were at rest save him. And he too went his +way to the shed where his place was when he had stirred the fire to a +blaze and lit a torch that we might see to eat the supper that was left +for us. + +Then we were alone, and while I set Arngeir’s weapons in a corner, my +father put down the sack, and stood looking at it. It seemed to sway a +little, and to toss as it settled down. And now that there was light it +was plain that the shape of what was inside it was strangely like that +of a child, doubled up with knees to chin, as it showed through the +sacking. + +“Hodulf or no Hodulf,” said my father, “I am going to see more of +this.” + +With that he took a knife from the table and cut the cord that fastened +the mouth, turning back the sack quickly. + +And lo! gagged and bound hand and foot in such wise that he could not +move, in the sack was a wondrously handsome boy of about the size of +Withelm; and for all his terrible journey across the king’s saddle, and +in spite of our rough handling, his eyes were bright and fearless as he +looked up at us. + +“Radbard,” said my father, “what if Hodulf had met with a thrall who +had done his bidding in truth?” + +I would not think thereof, for surely by this time there had been no +light in the eyes that seemed to me to be grateful to us. + +Now my father knelt down by the boy’s side, and began to take the +lashings from him, telling him at the same time to be silent when the +gag was gone. + +And hard work enough the poor child had to keep himself from screaming +when his limbs were loosed, so cramped was he, for he had been bound +almost into a ball. And even as we rubbed and chafed the cold hands and +feet he swooned with the pain of the blood running freely once more. + +“This is a business for mother,” said my father, on that; “get your +supper, and take it to bed with you, and say naught to the boys in the +morning. This is a thing that may not be talked of.” + +Now I should have liked to stay, but my father meant what he said, and +I could be of no more use; so I took my food, and went up to the loft +where we three slept, and knew no more of what trouble that night might +have for others. + + + + +CHAPTER III. +HAVELOK, SON OF GUNNAR. + + +Now after I had gone, Grim, my father, tried to bring the child round, +but he could not do so; and therefore, leaving him near the fire, he +went softly to call Leva, my mother, to help him; and all the while he +was wondering who the child might be, though indeed a fear that he knew +only too well was growing in his heart, for there would surely he only +one whom Hodulf could wish out of his way. + +As he opened the door that led to the sleeping room beyond the high +seat, the light shone on Leva, and showed her sitting up in bed with +wide eyes that seemed to gaze on somewhat that was terrible, and at +first he thought her awake. But she yet slept, and so he called her +gently, and she started and woke. + +“Husband, is that you?” she said. “I had a strange dream even now which +surely portends somewhat.” + +Now, as all men know, our folk in the north are most careful in the +matter of attending to dreams, specially those that come in troubled +times, holding that often warning or good counsel comes from them. I +cannot say that I have ever had any profit in that way myself, being no +dreamer at all; but it is certain that others have, as may be seen +hereafter. Wherefore my father asked Leva what this dream might be. + +“In my dream,” she answered, “it seemed that you came into the house +bearing a sack, which you gave into my charge, saying that therein lay +wealth and good fortune for us. And I would not believe this, for you +said presently that to gain this the sack and all that was therein was +to be thrown into the sea, which seemed foolishness. Whereon I cast it +into a corner in anger, and thereout came pitiful cries and wailings. +Then said I that it were ill to drown aught that had a voice as of a +child, and so you bade me leave it. Then I seemed to sleep here; but +presently in my dream I rose and looked on the sack again, and lo! +round about it shone a great light, so that all the place was bright, +and I was afraid. Then you came and opened the sack, and therein was a +wondrous child, from whose mouth came a flame, as it were the shaft of +a sunbeam, that stretched over all Denmark, and across the sea to +England, whereby I knew that this child was one who should hereafter be +king of both these lands. And on this I stared even as you woke me.” + +Now Grim was silent, for this was passing strange, and moreover it +fitted with his thought of who this child might be, since Hodulf. would +make away with him thus secretly. + +“What make you of the dream?” asked Leva, seeing that he pondered on +it. + +“It is in my mind that your dream will come true altogether, for +already it has begun to do so,” he answered. “Rise and come into the +hall, and I will show you somewhat.” + +On that Leva made haste and dressed and came out, and there, lying as +if in sleep before the fire, was the wondrous child of her dream, and +the sack was under his head as he lay; and she was wont to say to those +few who knew the story, that the kingliness of that child was plain to +be seen, as had been the flame of which she had dreamed, so that all +might know it, though the clothes that he wore were such as a churl +might be ashamed of. + +Then she cried out a little, but not loudly, and knelt by the child to +see him the better; and whether he had come to himself before and had +dropped asleep for very weariness, or out of his swoon had passed into +sleep, I cannot say, but at her touch he stirred a little. + +“What child is this? and how came he here?” she asked, wondering. + +“Already your dream has told you truly how he came,” Grim answered, +“but who he is I do not rightly know yet. Take him up and bathe him, +wife; and if he is the one I think him, there will be a mark whereby we +may know him.” + +“How should he be marked? And why look you to find any sign thus?” + +But Grim had turned down the rough shirt and bared the child’s neck and +right shoulder, whereon were bruises that made Leva well-nigh weep as +she saw them, for it was plain that he had been evilly treated for many +days before this. But there on the white skin was the mark of the +king’s line—the red four-armed cross with bent ends which Gunnar and +all his forebears had borne. + +Seeing that, Leva looked up wondering in her husband’s face, and he +answered the question that he saw written in her eyes. + +“He is as I thought—he is Havelok, the son of Gunnar, our king. Hodulf +gave him to me that I might drown him.” + +Then he told her all that had happened, and how from the first time +that he had lifted the sack and felt what was within it he had feared +that this was what was being done. Hodulf would have no rival growing +up beside him, and as he dared not slay him openly, he would have it +thought that he had been stolen away by his father’s friends, and then +folk would maybe wait quietly in hopes that he would come again when +time went on. + +Now Leva bathed Havelok in the great tub, and with the warmth and +comfort of the hot water he waked and was well content, so that +straightway, when he was dressed in Withelm’s holiday clothes, which +fitted him, though he was but seven years old at this time, and Withelm +was a well-grown boy enough for his ten winters, he asked for food, and +they gave him what was yet on the board; and we lived well in Denmark. + +“There is no doubt that he hath a kingly hunger,” quoth Grim as he +watched him. + +“Friend,” said Havelok, hearing this, though it was not meant for his +ears, “it is likely, seeing that this is the third day since I have had +food given me. And I thank you, good people, though I would have you +know that it is the custom to serve the king’s son kneeling.” + +“How should we know that you are the king’s son indeed?” asked Grim. + +“I am Havelok, son of Gunnar,” the boy said gravely. “Yon traitor, +Hodulf, has slain my father, and my two sisters, and driven out my +mother, whither I cannot tell, and now he would drown me.” + +Then the boy could hardly keep a brave front any longer, and he added, +“Yet I do not think that you will do to me as I heard him bid you.” + +Then came over Grim a great pity and sorrow that it should seem needful +thus to sue to him, and there grew a lump in his throat, so that for a +while he might not answer, and the boy thought him in doubt, so that in +his eyes there was a great fear. But Leva wept outright, and threw +herself on her knees beside him, putting her arms round him as he sat, +speaking words of comfort. + +Then Grim knelt also, and said, “Thralls of yours are we, Havelok, son +of Gunnar, and for you shall our lives be given before Hodulf shall +harm you. Nor shall he know that you live until the day comes when you +can go to him sword in hand and helm on head, with half the men of this +realm at your back, and speak to him of what he did and what he +planned, and the vengeance that shall be therefor.” + +So Grim took on himself to be Havelok’s foster-father, and, as he +ended, the boy said with glowing eyes, “I would that I were grown up. +How long shall this be before it comes to pass?” + +And then of a sudden he said, as a tired child will, “Friends, I am +sorely weary. Let me sleep.” + +So Leva took him in her arms and laid him in their own bed; and at once +he slept, so that she left him and came back to Grim by the fireside, +for there was much to be said. + +First of all it was clear that Havelok must be hidden, and it was not +to be supposed that Hodulf would be satisfied until he had seen the +thrall to whom he had trusted such a secret come back for his reward. +If he came not he would be sought; and then he would find out to whom +he had spoken, and there would be trouble enough. + +But it seemed easy to hide Havelok on board the ship, and sail with him +to England as soon as possible. A few days might well pass before a +thrall could get to Hodulf, so that he would suspect nothing just at +first. There were merchants in England who would care for the boy well, +and the two boats might be sunk, so that the king should not ask whose +they were. So when Grim came home again the fisher would be thought of +as drowned on his errand, and Hodulf would be content. + +But then, after a little talk of this, it was plain that all the town +could not be told to say that the fisher was drowned on such a night, +and Hodulf would leave naught undone to find the truth of the matter. +So the puzzle became greater, and the one thing that was clear was that +Grim was in sore danger, and Havelok also. + +Then suddenly outside the dogs barked, and a voice which they obeyed +quieted them. Grim sprang for his axe, which hung on the wall, and went +to the door, whereon someone was knocking gently. + +“Open, uncle; it is I, Arngeir.” + +“What does the boy want at this time?” said Grim, taking down the great +bar that kept the door, axe in hand, for one must be cautious in such +times as these. + +Arngeir came in—a tall young man of twenty, handsome, and like Grim in +ways, for he was his brother’s son. + +“Lucky am I in finding you astir,” he said. “I thought I should have +had to wake you all. Are you just home from sea, or just going out?” + +“Not long home,” answered Leva; “but what has brought you?” + +“I have a guest for you, if I may bring one here at this hour.” + +“A friend of yours never comes at the wrong time,” Grim said. “Why not +bring him in?” + +“If it were a friend of mine and a man he would do well enough at my +house for the night,” said Arngeir, smiling; “but the one for whom I +have come is a lady, and, I think, one in sore trouble.” + +“Who is she?” asked my mother, wondering much. + +“From the king’s town, certainly,” answered Arngeir, “but I do not know +her name. Truth to tell, I forgot to ask it, for she is sorely spent; +and so I made haste to come to you.” + +Then Leva would know how a lady came at this time to Arngeir’s house, +for he was alone, save for his four men, being an orphan without other +kin beside us, and his house was close to our shipyard and the sea. + +“She came not to me, but I found her,” he replied. “My horse is sick, +and I must get up an hour ago and see to it for the second time +tonight. Then as I came from the stable I saw someone go towards the +shipyard, and, as I thought, into the open warehouse. It was dark, and +I could not tell then if this was man or woman; but I knew that no one +had business there, and there are a few things that a thief might pick +up. So I took an axe and one of the dogs, and went to see what was on +hand, but at first there was naught to be found of anyone. If it had +not been for the dog, I think that I should have gone away, but he went +into the corner where the bales of wool are set, and there he whined +strangely, and when I looked, there was this lady on the bales, and she +was weeping and sore afraid. So I asked her what was amiss, and it was +not easy to get an answer at first. But at last she told me that she +had escaped from the burning of the king’s town, and would fain be +taken across the sea into some place of peace. So I cheered her by +saying that you would surely help her; and then I took her to my house +and came to you. Worn and rent are her garments, but one may see that +they have been rich, and I deem her some great lady.” + +“Go and bring her here, husband,” said my mother, on hearing that. + +But he was already going, and at once he and Arngeir went out and down +the street. There were many other ladies and their children who had +taken refuge here with the townsfolk after the burning, and the coming +of this one was but another count in the long tale of trouble that +began on the Welsh shore with the ways of Gunnar, the church’s bane. + +My father was long gone, and the day was breaking when he came back. My +mother slept in the great chair before the fire, for waiting had +wearied her, but she woke as she heard Grim’s footstep, and unbarred +the door to him, ready to welcome the guest that she looked for. But he +was alone, and on his face was the mark of some new trouble, and that a +great one. + +He came in and barred the door after him, and then sat down wearily and +ate for the first time since we had had our meal at sea; and while he +did so Leva asked him nothing, wondering what was wrong, but knowing +that she would hear in good time. And when he had eaten well he spoke. + +“The lady is Eleyn the queen. She has been wandering for these many +days from place to place, sometimes in the woods, and sometimes in +hiding in the cottages of the poor folk, always with a fear of staying +in one place, lest Hodulf should find her, for it is known that he is +seeking her. Then at last one told her of my ship, and she is here to +seek me.” + +Now one may know what the wonder and pity of my mother was, and she +would fain have gone to her. But Grim had left her at Arngeir’s house, +for folk were stirring in the town, and there were many who would know +the queen if they saw her. + +“It will soon be known that Arngeir has a guest,” my mother said, +“whereas none would have wondered had she been here.” + +“By this time tomorrow it will not matter if Hodulf knows,” answered +Grim, “for she will be safe.” + +“Where will you hide her then and what of Havelok?” + +“For those two there is no safety but across the sea, and they are the +most precious cargo that I shall ever have carried. Already Arngeir and +the men are at work on the ship, getting the rollers under her keel, +that she may take the water with the next tide. I shall sail with the +tide that comes with the darkness again, saying that I shall find cargo +elsewhere in other ports, as I have done once before.” + +“I had not looked to say farewell to you quite so soon,” my mother +said; “but this is right. Now I will have all things ready, that the +queen shall be in what comfort she may on the voyage. But it will be +well that none shall know, even of your seamen, who the passengers are, +else will word go to Hodulf in some way hereafter that Havelok has +escaped.” + +“I have thought of that,” answered Grim. “It will be best that none, +not even Radbard, shall know who this is whom we have in the house. A +chance word goes far sometimes.” + +“The boy will tell his name.” + +“There are many who are named after him, and that is no matter. Do you +speak to him, for it is plain that he has sense enough, and bid him say +naught but that he and his mother have escaped from the town, and, if +you will, that he escaped in the sack. I will speak to Radbard, and +there will be no trouble. Only Arngeir must know the truth, and that +not until we are on the high seas perhaps.” + +So there seemed to be no more fear, and in an hour the house was astir, +and there was work enough for all in preparing for the voyage. As for +me, I went down to the ship with my father, and worked there. + +Now, I will say that not for many a long year did I know who this +foster-brother of mine was. It was enough for me to be told that he was +the son of some great man or other with whom Hodulf had a private feud. +Nor did I ever speak of that night’s work to any, for my father bade me +not to do so. Presently I knew, of course, that the lady was Havelok’s +mother; but that told me nothing, for I never heard her name. + +We worked at the ship for three hours or so, stowing the bales of wool +and the other little cargo we had; and then my father sent me to the +fishing-boats for a pair of oars belonging to the ship’s boat that were +there, and, as it fell out, it was a good thing that I and not one of +the men went. When I came to the place where they were drawn up on the +beach, as we had left them last night, there was a stranger talking to +some of the fisher folk, who were working at their nets not far off; +and though another might have paid no heed to this, I, with the +remembrance of last night fresh in my mind, wondered if he was by any +chance there on an errand from Hodulf. I thought that, were I he, I +should surely send someone to know, at least, if the fisher went out +last night after I had spoken with him. So I loitered about until the +man went away, which he did slowly, passing close to me, and looking at +the boats carefully, as if he would remember them. Then I went and +asked the men to whom he had been speaking what he wanted. They said +that they wondered that he had not spoken to me, for he had been asking +about my father and of his ship, and if he took any passenger with him +this voyage. It would seem that he wanted to sail with us, from all he +said. + +Certainly he had begun by asking whose boats these were, and wondered +that a merchant should go fishing at all, when there was no need for +him to do so. Also he had asked if Grim had been out last night, and +they had of course told him that he had not, for neither boat had been +shifted from the berth she had been given when we came in at dusk. + +“Ah,” he had said, “well did I wot that your merchant would do no night +work,” and so made a jest of the matter, saying that in his country it +were below the state of a merchant to have aught to do with a thrall’s +work. He was certainly a Norseman, and they thought that I should find +him with my father. Now I thought otherwise, and also I saw that all +was known. This man was a spy of Hodulf’s, and would go straight back +to his master. My father must hear of this at once; and I hurried back +to the ship, and took him aside and told him. And as I did so his face +grew grey under the tan that sea and wind had given it, and I knew not +altogether why. + +“Tell Arngeir to come to me,” he said; “I am going to the jarl. Tell no +one, but go home and say to mother that I shall be with her in an hour. +Then come back and work here.” + +Then he and Arngeir went to Sigurd, and told him all from the +beginning. And when the jarl heard, he was glad for the safety of the +queen and of Havelok, but he said that there was no doubt that Denmark +was no place for Grim any longer. + +“That is my thought also,” said my father; “but now am I Havelok’s +foster-father, and for him I can make a home across the sea, where I +will train him up for the time that shall surely come, when he shall +return and take his father’s kingdom.” + +“That is well,” the jarl said, “but you have little time. What Hodulf +will do one cannot say, but he may come here with his men behind him to +force me to give you up, and the town will be searched for Havelok, and +both he and the queen will be lost.” + +“If that is so,” my father answered, “we have time enough. Two hours +for the spy to reach his master; one hour for Hodulf to hear him, and +to bethink himself; an hour for gathering his men; and four hours, at +the least, in which to get here. Eight hours, at the least, have we, +and the tide serves in six. I had thought of waiting till dark, but +that is of no use now. We may as well go, for there are true men here, +who will wait to welcome him who flies when he comes again.” + +“This is a sore wrench for you and yours, good friend and faithful,” +Sigurd said, “but it must be. Nevertheless I can make your loss as +little as it may be. You shall sell all that is yours to me at your own +price, that you may have the means to make a new home well, wherever +you may choose.” + +At first my father would not have that, saying that there would be much +trouble on his account presently. + +But Sigurd said that, first, the trouble was not of his making at all; +and next, that if Hodulf plundered the place, it was as well to send +away as much as possible beforehand; and lastly—and this was what +touched my father most—that he must think of his charge. + +“Why, old friend, you are giving up all for Havelok, as would I. And am +I to have no share in the training of him for the days to come?” + +Therewith he waited for no more words, but went to his great chest, and +took thereout chain after chain of linked gold rings, and put them in a +canvas bag, without weighing or counting them, and gave them to Grim. + +“Lord, here is enough to buy half the town!” my father said. + +“What of that? The town is Havelok’s by right, and maybe you can buy +him a village across seas with it. But give me a full quittance for my +purchase of your goods and cattle and house, that I may have right to +them.” + +That Grim did at once, before witnesses who were called in, none +wondering that he chose thus to secure his property while he was away, +because Hodulf might make demands on it. They did not know that any +money changed hands, and thought it formal only, and a wise thing to be +done. + +After that Grim and Arngeir took leave of the jarl, thanking him, and +they went to our house. + +There waited my mother anxiously enough, for she knew from my message +that there was somewhat new to be told, or my father had not left the +ship. Nor do I think that what was to be done was altogether a surprise +to her, for she had thought much, and knew the dangers that might crop +up. So, being very brave, she strove to make light of the trouble that +leaving her home cost her, and set about gathering the few things that +she could take. + +Now on the hearth sat Withelm, tending the fire, and he heard presently +that we were all to go to sea; and that pleased him well, for he had +ever longed to sail with his father. As for Havelok, he had waked once, +and had well eaten, and now was sleeping again. + +Then said Withelm, “When will the sacrifice to Aegir and Ran[5] for +luck on the swan’s path be?” + +“Scant time have we for that,” my father said, “for tide will not +wait.” + +“Then,” said the boy, “it were well to take the stone altar with us, +and make sacrifice on board. I have heard that Aegir is wrathful and +strong.” + +Then my father said to Leva, “The boy is right in one thing, and that +is, that if we are to make a new home beyond the sea, the blue stones +that have belonged to our family since time untold should go with us, +else will there be no luck in this flitting.” + +“What matter?” + +“West they came with us in the days of Odin, and west they shall go +with us once more,” my father said. + +And there was an end of question on the matter, for presently Arngeir +came up with the team of oxen and a sled, and my father hastily cried +to Thor as in time of sudden war, and then on the sled they loaded the +stones easily. I helped, and it is certain that they were no trouble to +uproot or lift, though they were bedded in the ground and heavy. +Wherefrom we all thought that the flitting was by the will of the +Norns, and likely to turn out well. + +But in no way could we lift Thor himself. It was as if he were rooted, +and maybe he was so. Therefore we left him, but sadly. + +One may suppose that, had any noticed that Grim was taking these sacred +things with him, there would have been a talk; but as we sailed light, +none thought them aught but needed ballast; and we brought other stones +to the ship with them and afterwards. + +Of course folk did wonder at this sudden sailing of ours, but my father +made no secret of his wish to get out of the way of Hodulf, who had +taken the ships of one or two other men elsewhere, so that all thought +he feared that his would be the next to be seized, and deemed him +prudent in going. As for our own crew, they were told that it was +certain that the ship would be taken unless we went on this tide, and +so they worked well. + +Very early in the morning, and unseen, Arngeir had brought Eleyn, the +queen, on board, and she was in the cabin under the raised after deck +all the while that the bustle of making ready was going on. Only my +father went in there at any time, unless he gave the key to one of us, +for there he kept his valuables and the arms. + +Presently, when all the men were forward and busy, I got Havelok on +board unnoticed. We had kept Withelm running to and fro from ship to +house with little burdens all the morning, mightily busy; and then, +when the chance came, Havelok in Withelm’s clothes, and with a bundle +on his head, came running to me. I waited by the after cabin, and I +opened the door quickly and let him in. Then he saw his mother; and how +those two met, who had thought each other lost beyond finding, I will +not try to say. + +I closed the door softly and left them, locking it again, and found +Withelm close to me, and Arngeir watching to see that all went well. + +Soon after that there came a Norseman, dressed as a merchant, who +talked with my father of goods, and lading, and whither he was bound, +and the like. When he went away, he thought that he had found out that +we were for the Texel, but I do not know that he was from Hodulf. There +had been time for him to send a spy in haste, however, if he wished to +watch us; but at any rate this man heard naught of our charges. + +Then, at the last moment, my mother and the children came on board, and +at once we hauled out of the harbour. I mind that an old woman ran +along the wharf when she found that all were going, and cried that Dame +Leva had not paid for certain fowls bought of her; and my father +laughed in lightness of heart, and threw her a silver penny, so that +she let us go with a blessing. And after that it did not matter what +the people thought of this going of ours, for in an hour we were far at +sea with a fair wind on the quarter, heading south at first, that the +Norseman might see us, but when the land was dim astern, and there was +no more fear, bearing away south and west for the Humber in far-off +England. + +Now that was the last I saw of Denmark for many a long year, and I knew +it must be so. But, as I have told, none but my father and mother, and +now Arngeir, knew all that we were carrying with us. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. +ACROSS THE SWAN’S PATH. + + +All that night, and during the morning of the next day, we sailed +steadily with a fresh northwest breeze that bade fair to strengthen +by-and-by. If it held, we should see the cliffs of Northumbria on our +bow tomorrow morning, and then would run down the coast to the Humber, +where my father meant to put in first. He thought to leave the queen +and Havelok with merchants whom he knew in Lindsey, and with them would +stay my mother and the little ones while he made a trading voyage +elsewhere. There would be time enough to find out the best place in +which to make a home when the autumn came, and after he had been to an +English port or two that he did not know yet. + +When half the morning was past, the sun shone out warmly, and all came +on deck from the after cabin, where the ladies and children were. Our +men knew by this time that we had passengers, flying like ourselves +from Hodulf, and therefore they were not at all surprised to see +Havelok and his mother with their mistress. None of them had ever seen +either of them before, as it happened, though I do not think that any +could have recognized the queen as she was then, wan and worn with the +terror of her long hiding. Very silent was she as she sat on deck +gazing ever at the long white wake of the ship that seemed to stretch +for a little way towards Denmark, only to fade away as a track over +which one may never go back. And silent, too, was my mother; but the +children, who had no care, were pleased with all things, and Raven and +I were full of the ways of old seamen. + +So everything went quietly until after we had our midday meal. We were +all amidships on the wide deck, except my father and Arngeir, who sat +side by side on the steersman’s bench on the high poop. There was no +spray coming on board, for we were running, and the ship was very +steady. Raven and I were forward with the men, busy with the many +little things yet to be done to the rigging and such like that had been +left in the haste at last, and there was no thought but that this +quiet, save for some shift of wind maybe, would last until we saw the +English shore. + +Now I do not know if my father had seen aught from the after deck, but +presently he came forward, and passed up the steps to the forecastle, +and there sat down on the weather rail, looking out to leeward for some +time quietly. I thought that maybe he had sighted some of the high land +on the Scots coast, for it was clear enough to see very far, and so I +went to see also. But there was nothing, and we talked of this and that +for ten minutes, when he said, “Look and see if you can catch sight of +aught on the skyline just aft of the fore stay as you sit.” + +I looked long, and presently caught sight of something white that +showed for a moment as we heaved up on a wave, and then was gone. + +“Somewhat I saw,” I said, “but it has gone. It might have been the top +of a sail.” + +Then I caught a glimpse of it again, and my father saw it also, and, as +we watched, it hove up slowly until it was plain to be seen. The vessel +it belonged to was sailing in such a way as to cross our course in the +end, though she was only a few points nearer the wind than we were. It +seemed that she was swifter than ourselves, too, from the way she kept +her place on our bow. Now a merchant must needs look on every sail with +more or less distrust, as there is always a chance of meeting with +ship-plundering Vikings, though the best of them will do naught but +take toll from a trader on the high seas. So before long all our men +were watching the stranger, and soon it was plain that she was a +longship, fresh from her winter quarters. We thought, therefore, that +she was not likely to trouble about us, having no need of stores as +yet, and we being plainly in ballast only. Nor did she alter her course +in any way, but mile after mile she sailed with us, always edging up +nearer as she went, until at last we could see the men on her bows and +the helmsman at his place. + +I thought that one could hardly see a more handsome ship than she was, +fresh with new paint, and with her dragon head shining golden in the +sun. But I had seen her before, and that in no pleasant way. She was +the ship of which I have already spoken—that which we beat off two +years ago, taking their cargo of plunder by way of amends for being +attacked. + +There was this difference, however, at that time, that then we had all +our men on board, and the Viking was short-handed after a fighting +raid, whereas now we had but fifteen men instead of five-and-twenty, +because in the hurry we had not had time to summon any who lived beyond +the town, and it was plain that the Viking had a full crew, maybe of +sixty men. + +“It is in my mind,” my father said to Arngeir, “that our old foe will +think twice before he attacks us again; but seeing whom we have to deal +with, it is as well to be ready. We might keep him off with arrows, if +he does not find out how few we are, should he make an attempt on us; +but if he boards, we must submit, and make the best bargain we can.” + +So he passed word that the men were to lie down on deck, leaving only a +few to be seen, that the Viking might think us as he had known us +before; and then the arms-chests were opened, and the bows and throwing +weapons were set to hand by us boys while the men armed themselves. + +Then my father spoke to them, saying, “I do not know if this Viking +will pass us by as too hard a nut to crack, seeing that he knows of us +already; but if he does not, it will be of no use our trying to fight +him, as you can see. I would not waste your lives for naught. But it +may be that a show of force will keep him off, so we will wait under +arms until we are sure what he will do.” + +Then the men broke out, saying that they had beaten this man before +with him as leader, and they were in no mind to give up without a +fight. + +“Well, then,” my father answered, “it is plain that you will back me, +and so I will call on you if there is need or chance. But we have the +women folk to think of now, and we must not risk aught.” + +Now the longship held on her course steadily, never shifting her helm +for so much as a point. In half an hour or so we must be alongside one +another, at this rate, and that Arngeir did not altogether like the +look of, for it would seem as if she meant to find out all about us at +least. There was some little sea running, and it might be thought +easier to board us on the lee side, therefore. We could not get away +from her in any way, for even now, while she was closer hauled than we, +she kept pace with us, and had she paid off to the same course as +ourselves, she would have left us astern in a very short time. + +Presently a man swarmed up her rigging in order to look down on our +decks, and as he went up, my father bade our men crawl over to +windward, so that he should see all one gunwale lined with men, and so +think that both were, and deem that we were setting a trap for them in +order to entice them alongside by pretending to be hardly manned. At +the same time, he sent the ladies and children into the cabin, so that +they might not be seen. + +That did not please Havelok at all, for he seemed to scent a fight in +the air, and wanted weapons, that he might stand beside the other men, +asking for an axe for choice. It was all that I could do to quiet him +by saying that if there was any need of him I would call him, but that +just now we thought the Vikings would go away if they saw many warriors +on deck. Which indeed was all that we hoped, but he thought that would +spoil sport, and so hastened into the shelter. + +After that there fell a silence on us, for at any moment now we might +be hailed by the other ship. And when we were but a bow shot apart the +hail came. The two vessels were then broadside on to each other, we a +little ahead, if anything. My father was steering now, fully armed, and +Arngeir was beside him with myself. I had the big shield wherewith one +guards the helmsman if arrows are flying. + +The Viking bade us strike sail, and let him come alongside, but my +father made no answer. Still we held on, and the Viking paid off a +little, as though he were not so sure if it were wise to fall on us, as +we showed no fear of him. + +Then my father spoke to Arngeir in a stern voice that I had heard only +when we met this same ship before. + +“This will not last long. If there is one chance for us, it is to run +him down and it may be done. Our ship will stand the blow, for these +longships are but eggshells beside her. Pass the word for the men to +shoot the steersman when I give the word. Then they must run forward, +lest the Vikings climb over the bows as we strike her.” + +Arngeir’s eyes flashed at that, and at once he went to the men, and +there was a click and rattle as the arrows went to string, and they +gathered themselves together in readiness to leap up when the word +came. There seemed every chance that we should be upon the longship +before they knew what we were about, for we had the weather gauge. + +Now the Viking hailed again, and again bore up for us a little, whereat +my father smiled grimly, for it helped his plan. And this time, as +there was no answer, his men sent an arrow or two on board, which did +no harm. + +“It is plain that we are to be taken,” my father said on that, “so we +will wait no longer. Stand by, men, and one lucky shot will do all. +Shoot!” + +The helm went up as he spoke, and the men leaped to their feet, raining +arrows round the two men who were at the helm, and down on the Viking +we swept with a great cheer. + +But in a moment there were four men on her after deck, and whether the +first helmsman was shot I cannot say; but I think not, for quickly as +we had borne down on her she was ready, rushing away from us, instead +of luffing helplessly, as we had expected. It would almost have seemed +that our move had been looked for. + +Ten more minutes passed while we exchanged arrow flights, and then the +longship had so gained on us that she struck sail and waited for us +with her long oars run out and ready. + +“That is all we can do,” said my father, with a sort of groan. “Put up +your weapons, men, for it is no good fighting now.” + +They did so, growling; and as we neared the longship, her oars took the +water, and she flew alongside of us, and a grappling hook flung deftly +from her bows caught our after gunwale, and at once she dropped astern, +and swung to its chain as to a tow line. We were not so much as bidden +to strike sail now, and the Vikings began to crowd forward in order to +board us by the stern, as the grappling chain was hove short by their +windlass. + +“Hold on,” my father cried to them “we give up. Where is your chief?” + +Now the men were making way for him when a strange thing happened. Out +of the after cabin ran Havelok when he heard that word, crying that it +was not the part of good warriors to give up while they could wield +sword—words that surely he had learned from Gunnar, his father. And +after him came his mother, silent, and terrified lest he should be +harmed. + +Havelok ran up the steps to my father, and the queen followed. I have +said that there was a little sea running, and this made the ships jerk +and strain at the chain that held them together fiercely, now that it +was so short. And even as the queen came to the top step, where there +was no rail, for the steps were not amidships, but alongside the +gunwale, one of these jerks came; and in a moment she was in the sea, +and in a moment also Arngeir was after her, for he was a fine swimmer. + +The Vikings cried out as they saw this, but the poor queen said no +word, nor did she ever rise again after the first time. It is likely +that she was drawn under the longship at once. + +So for a little while there was no talk of terms or fighting, but all +held their breath as they watched to see if the queen floated alongside +anywhere; but there was only Arngeir, who swam under the lee of the +Viking, and called to her men for guidance. They threw him a rope’s end +as he came to the stern, and he clung to it for a little while, hoping +to see the flash of a white hood that the queen wore, over the white +wave crests: but at last he gave up, and the Vikings hauled him on +board, praising him for his swimming, as he had on his mail. + +Then the chief turned to my father, and spoke to him across the few +fathoms of water that were between the ships. + +“We meet again, Grim, as time comes round; and now I have a mind to let +you go, though I have that old grudge against you, for I think that +your wife is loss enough.” + +“Not my wife, Arnvid, but a passenger—one whom I would not have lost +for all that you can take from me.” + +“Well, I am glad it is no worse. But it seems that you are in ballast. +How comes it that you have no cargo for me, for you owe me one?” + +Then my father told him shortly that he had fled from Hodulf; and all +those doings were news to the Viking, so that they talked in friendly +wise, while the men listened, and the ships crept on together down the +wind. + +But when all was told, save of the matter of Havelok, and who the lost +lady was, the Viking laughed shortly, and said, “Pleasant gossip, Grim, +but not business. What will you give us to go away in peace? I do not +forget that you all but ran us down just now, and that one or two of us +have arrows sticking in us which came from your ship. But that first +was a good bit of seamanship, and there is not much harm from the +last.” + +“Well,” said my father, “it seems to me that you owe me a ship, for it +is certain that I once had that one, and gave her back to you.” + +The Viking laughed. + +“True enough, and therefore I give you back your ship now, and we are +quits. But I am coming on board to see what property I can lift.” + +My father shrugged his shoulders, and turned away, and at once the +Vikings hauled on the chain until their dragon head was against our +quarter, when the chief and some twenty of his men came on board. The +way in which they took off the hatches without staying to question +where they should begin told a tale of many a like plundering. + +Then, I do not know how it was rightly, for I was aft with my father, +there began a quarrel between the Vikings and our men; and though both +Grim and the chief tried to stop it, five of our few were slain +outright, and three more badly hurt before it was ended. The rest of +our crew took refuge on the fore deck, and there bided after that. The +whole fray was over in a few minutes, and it seemed that the Vikings +half expected somewhat of the sort. + +Then they took all the linen and woollen goods, and our spare sails, +and all the arms and armour from the men and from the chests to their +own ship. Only they left my father and Arngeir their war gear, saying +that it were a shame to disarm two brave men. + +Then the chief said, “Little cargo have you, friend Grim, and therefore +I am the more sure that you have store of money with you. Even flight +from Hodulf would not prevent you from taking that wherewith to trade. +So I must have it; and it rests with you whether we tear your ship to +splinters in hunting for your hiding place or not.” + +“I suppose there is no help for it, but I will say that the most of +what I have is not mine,” said my father. + +“Why, what matter? When one gives gold into the hands of a seafarer, +one has to reckon with such chances as this. You must needs hand it +over.” + +So, as there was naught else to do, Grim brought out the jarl’s heavy +bag, and gave it to the chief, who whistled to himself as he hefted it. + +“Grim,” he said, “for half this I would have let you go without sending +a man on board. What is this foolishness? You must have known that.” + +“The gold is not mine,” my father answered; “it was my hope that you +would have been content with the cargo.” + +“Well, I have met with an honest man for once,” the Viking said; and he +called his men, and they cast off and left us. + +But we were in no happy plight when he had gone away to the eastward on +his old course. Half our men were gone, for the wounded were of no use, +and the loss of the queen weighed heavily on us. And before long it +began to blow hard from the north, and we had to shorten sail before +there was real need, lest it should be too much for us few presently, +as it certainly would have been by the time that darkness fell, for the +gale strengthened. + +Then, added to all this, there was trouble in the cabin under the after +deck, for since his mother was lost, Havelok had spoken no word. I had +brought him down to my mother from the deck, and had left him with her, +hoping that he did not know what had happened; but now he was in a high +fever, and sorely ill. Perhaps he would have been so in any case, after +the long days of Hodulf’s cruelty, but he had borne them well. A child +is apt, however, to give up, as it were, suddenly. + +So, burdened with trouble, we drove before the gale, and the only +pleasant thing was to see how the good ship behaved in it, while at +least we were on our course all the time. Therefore, one could not say +that there was any danger; and but for these other things, none would +have thought much of wind or sea, which were no worse than we had +weathered many a time before. We had sea room, and no lee shore to +fear, and the ship was stanch, and no sailor can ask for more than +that. + + + + +CHAPTER V. +STORM AND SHIPWRECK. + + +The gale held without much change through the night, and then with +morning shifted a few points to the westward, which was nothing to +complain of. The sea rose, and a few rain squalls came up and passed; +but they had no weight in them, and did not keep the waves down as a +steady fall will. And all day long it was the same, and the ship fled +ever before it. There was no thought now of reaching any port we might +wish, but least of all did we think of making the Lindsey shore, which +lies open to the north and east. When the gale broke, we must find +harbour where we could; and indeed; to my father at this time all ports +were alike, as refuge from Hodulf. When darkness came again one of the +wounded men died, and Havelok was yet ill in the after cabin, so that +my mother was most anxious for him. The plunging ship was no place for +a sick child. + +Now it was not possible for us to tell how far we had run since we had +parted from the Viking, and all we knew was that we had no shore to +fear with the wind as it was, and therefore nothing but patience was +needed. But in the night came a sudden lull in the gale that told of a +change at hand, and in half an hour it was blowing harder than ever +from the northeast, and setting us down to the English coast fast, for +we could do naught but run before such a wind. It thickened up also, +and was very dark even until full sunrise, so that one could hardly +tell when the sun was above the sea’s rim. + +I crept from the fore cabin about this time, after trying in vain to +sleep, and found the men sheltering under the break of the deck and +looking always to leeward. Two of them were at the steering oar with my +father, for Arngeir was worn out, and I had left him in the cabin, +sleeping heavily in spite of the noise of waves and straining planking. +Maybe he would have waked in a moment had that turmoil ceased. + +It was of no use trying to speak to the men without shouting in their +ears, and getting to windward to do that, moreover, and so I looked +round to see if there was any change coming. But all was grey overhead, +and a grey wall of rain and flying drift from the wave tops was all +round us, blotting out all things that were half a mile from us, if +there were anything to be blotted out. It always seems as if there must +be somewhat beyond a thickness of any sort at sea. But there was one +thing that I did notice, and that was that the sea was no longer grey, +as it had been yesterday, but was browner against the cold sky, while +the foam of the following wave crests was surely not so white as it had +been, and at this I wondered. + +Then I crawled aft and went to my father and asked him what he thought +of the wind and the chance of its dropping. He had had the lead going +for long now. + +“We are right off the Humber mouth, to judge by the colour of the +water,” he told me, “or else off the Wash, which is more to the south. +I cannot tell which rightly, for we have run far, and maybe faster than +I know. If only one could see—” + +There he stopped, and I knew enough to understand that we were in some +peril unless a shift of wind came very soon, since the shore was under +our lee now, if by good luck we were not carried straight into the +great river itself. So for an hour or more I watched, and all the time +it seemed that hope grew less, for the sea grew shorter, as if against +tide, and ever its colour was browner with the mud of the Trent and her +sisters. + +Presently, as I clung to the rail, there seemed to grow a new sound +over and amid all those to which I had become used—as it were a low +roaring that swelled up in the lulls, and sank and rose again. And I +knew what it was, and held up my hand to my father, listening, and he +heard also. It was the thunder of breakers on a sandy coast to leeward. + +He put his whistle to his lips and called shrilly, and the men saw him +if they could not hear, and sprang up, clawing aft through the water +that flooded the waist along the rail. + +“Breakers to leeward, men,” he cried “we must wear ship, and then shall +clear them. We shall be standing right into Humber after that, as I +think.” + +Arngeir heard the men trampling, if not the whistle, and he was with us +directly, and heard what was to be done. + +“It is a chance if the yard stands it,” he said, looking aloft. + +“Ay, but we cannot chance going about in this sea, and we are too short +of men to lower and hoist again. Listen!” + +Arngeir did so, and heard for the first time the growing anger of the +surf on the shore, and had no more doubt. We were then running with the +wind on the port quarter, and it was useless to haul closer to the wind +on that tack, whereas if we could wear safely we should be leaving the +shore at once by a little closer sailing. + +“Ran is spreading her nets,” said Arngeir, “but if all holds, she will +have no luck with her fishing.”[6] + +Then we manned the main sheet and the guys from the great yards, but we +were all too few for the task, which needed every man of the fifteen +that we had sailed with. There was the back stay to be set up afresh on +the weather quarter for the new tack also, and three men must see to +that. + +We watched my father’s hand for the word, and steadily sheeted home +until all seemed to be going well. But the next moment there was a +crash and a cry, and we were a mastless wreck, drifting helplessly. +Maybe some flaw of wind took us as the head of the great sail went +over, but its power was too much for the men at guys and back stay, and +they had the tackle torn through their hands. The mast snapped six feet +above the deck, smashing the gunwales as it fell forward and overboard, +but hurting none of us. + +Then a following sea or two broke over the stern, and I was washed from +the poop, for I had been at the sheet, down to the deck, and there +saved myself among the fallen rigging, half drowned. One of the men was +washed overboard at the same time, but a bight of the rigging that was +over the side caught him under the chin, and his mates hauled him on +board again by the head, as it were. He was wont to make a jest of it +afterward, saying that he was not likely to be hanged twice, but he had +a wry neck from that day forward. + +No more seas came over us, for the wreck over the bows brought us head +to wind, though we shipped a lot of water across the decks as she +rolled in the sea. Then we rode to the drag of the fallen sail for a +time, and it seemed quiet now that there was no noise of wind screaming +in rigging above us. But all the while the thunder of the breakers grew +nearer and plainer. + +I bided where I was, for the breath was knocked out of me for the +moment. I saw my father lash the helm, and then he and the rest got the +two axes that hung by the cabin door, and came forward with them. The +mast was pounding our side in a way that would start the planking +before long, and it must be cut adrift, and by that time I could join +him. + +When that was done, and it did not take long, we cleared the anchor and +cable and let go, for it was time. The sound of the surf was drowning +all else. But the anchor held, and the danger was over for the while, +and as one might think altogether; but the tide was running against the +gale, and what might happen when it turned was another matter. + +Now we got the sail on deck again, and unlaced it from the yard, +setting that in place with some sort of rigging, ready to be stepped as +a mast if the wind shifted to any point that might help us off shore. + +It may be thought how we watched that one cable that held us from the +waves and the place where they broke, for therein lay our only chance, +and we longed for the clear light that comes after rain, that we might +see the worst, at least, if we were to feel it. But the anchor held, +and presently we lost the feeling of a coming terror that had been over +us, the utmost peril being past. My father went to the after cabin now, +and though the poor children were bruised with the heavy rolling of the +ship as she came into the wind, they were all well save Havelok, and he +had fallen asleep in my mother’s arms at last. + +With the turn of the tide, which came about three hours after midday, +the clouds broke, and slowly the land grew out of the mists until we +could see it plainly, though it was hardly higher than the sea that +broke over it in whirling masses of spindrift. By-and-by we could see +far-off hills beyond wide-stretching marshlands that looked green and +rich across yellow sandhills that fringed the shore. And from them we +were not a mile, and at their feet were such breakers as no ship might +win through, though, if we might wait until they were at rest, the +level sand was good for beaching at the neap tides. For we were well +into Humber mouth, and to the northward of us, across the yellow water, +was the long point of Spurn, and the ancient port of Ravenspur, with +its Roman jetties falling into decay under the careless hand of the +Saxon, under its shelter. There was no port on this southern side of +the Humber, though farther south was Tetney Haven and again Saltfleet, +to which my father had been, but neither in nor out of them might a +vessel get in a northeast gale. + +I have said that this clearness came with the turn of the tide, and now +that began to flow strongly, setting in with the wind with more than +its wonted force, for the northwest shift of the gale had kept it from +falling, as it always will on this coast. That, of course, I learned +later, but it makes plain what happened next. Our anchor began to drag +with the weight of both tide and wind, and that was the uttermost of +our dread. + +Slowly it tore through its holding, and as it were step by step at +first, and once we thought it stopped when we had paid out all the +cable. But wind and sea were too strong, and presently again we saw the +shore marks shifting, and we knew that there was no hope. The ship must +touch the ground sooner or later, and then the end would come with one +last struggle in the surf, and on shore was no man whose hand might be +stretched to drag a spent man to the land, if he won through. It would +have seemed less lonely had one watched us, but I did not know then +that no pity for the wrecked need be looked for from the marshmen of +the Lindsey shore. There was not so much as a fisher’s boat of wicker +and skins in sight on the sandhills, where one might have looked to see +some drawn up. + +Now my father went to the cabin and told my mother that things were at +their worst, and she was very brave. + +“If you are to die at this time, husband,” she said, “it is good that I +shall die with you. Better it is, as I think, than a sickness that +comes to one and leaves the other. But after that you will go to the +place of Odin, to Valhalla; but I whither?” + +Then spoke little Withelm, ever thoughtful, and now not at all afraid. + +“If Freya wants not a sailor’s wife who is willing to fight the waves +with Grim, my father, it will be strange.” + +My mother was wont to say that this saying of the child’s did much to +cheer her at that time, but there is little place for a woman in the +old faiths. So she smiled at him, and that made him bold to speak of +what he had surely been thinking since the storm began. + +“I suppose that Aegir is wroth because we made no sacrifice to him +before we set sail. I think that I would cast the altar stones to him, +that he may know that we meant to do so.” + +This sounds a child’s thought only, and so it was; but it set my father +thinking, and in the end helped us out of trouble. + +“I have heard,” my father said, “that men in our case have thrown +overboard the high-seat pillars, and have followed them to shore +safely. We have none, but the stones are more sacred yet. Overboard +they shall go, and as the boat with them goes through the surf we may +learn somewhat.” + +With that he hastened on deck, and told the men what he would do; and +they thought it a good plan, as maybe they would have deemed anything +that seemed to call for help from the strong ones of the sea. So they +got the boat ready to launch over the quarter, and the four stones, +being uncovered since the Vikings took our cargo, were easily got on +deck, and they were placed in the bottom of the boat, and steadied +there with coils of fallen rigging, so that they could not shift. They +were just a fair load for the boat. Then my father cried for help to +the Asir, bidding Aegir take the altar as full sacrifice; and when we +had done so we waited for a chance as a long wave foamed past us, and +launched the boat fairly on its back, so that she seemed to fly from +our hands, and was far astern in a moment. + +Now we looked to see her make straight for the breakers, lift on the +first of them, and then capsize. That first line was not a quarter of a +mile from us now. + +But she never reached them. She plunged away at first, heading right +for the surf, and then went steadily westward, and up the shore line +outside it, until she was lost to sight among the wild waves, for she +was very low in the water. + +“Cheer up, men,” my father said, as he saw that; “we are not ashore +yet, nor will be so long as the tide takes that current along shore. We +shall stop dragging directly.” + +And so it was, for when the ship slowly came to the place where the +boat had changed her course, the anchor held once more for a while +until the gathering strength of the tide forced it to drag again. Now, +however, it was not toward the shore that we drifted, but up the +Humber, as the boat had gone; and as we went the sea became less heavy, +for we were getting into the lee of the Spurn headland. + +Soon the clouds began to break, flying wildly overhead with patches of +blue sky and passing sunshine in between them that gladdened us. The +wind worked round to the eastward at the same time, and we knew that +the end of the gale had come. But, blowing as it did right into the +mouth of the river, the sea became more angry, and it would be worse +yet when the tide set again outwards. Already we had shipped more water +than was good, and we might not stand much more. It seemed best, +therefore, to my father that we should try to run as far up the Humber +as we might while we had the chance, for the current that held us safe +might change as tide altered in force and depth. + +So we buoyed the cable, not being able to get the anchor in this sea, +and then stepped the yard in the mast’s place, and hoisted the peak of +the sail corner-wise as best we might; and that was enough to heel us +almost gunwale under as the cable was slipped and the ship headed about +up the river mouth. We shipped one or two more heavy seas as she paid +off before the wind, but we were on the watch for them, and no harm was +done. + +After that the worst was past, for every mile we flew over brought us +into safer waters; and now we began to wonder where the boat with its +strange cargo had gone, and we looked out for her along the shore as we +sailed, and at last saw her, though it was a wonder that we did so. + +The tide had set her into a little creek that opened out suddenly, and +there Arngeir saw her first, aground on a sandbank, with the lift of +each wave that crept into the haven she had found sending her higher on +it. And my father cried to us that we had best follow her; and he put +the helm over, while we sheeted home and stood by for the shock of +grounding. + +Then in a few minutes we were in a smother of foam across a little sand +bar, and after that in quiet water, and the sorely-tried ship was safe. +She took the ground gently enough in the little creek, not ten score +paces from where the boat was lying, and we were but an arrow flight +from the shore. As the tide rose the ship drifted inward toward it, so +that we had to wait only for the ebb that we might go dry shod to the +land. + +Before that time came there was rest for us all, and we needed it +sorely. It was a wonder that none of the children had been hurt in the +wild tossing of the ship, but children come safely through things that +would be hard on a man. Bruised they were and very hungry, but somehow +my mother had managed to steady them on the cabin floor, and they were +none the worse, only Havelok slept even yet with a sleep that was too +heavy to be broken by the worst of the tossing as he lay in my mother’s +lap. She could not tell if this heavy sleep was good or not. + +Then we saw to the wounded men, and thereafter slept in the sun or in +the fore cabin as each chose, leaving Arngeir only on watch. It was +possible that the shore folk would be down to the strand soon, seeking +for what the waves might have sent them, and the tide must be watched +also. + +Just before its turn he woke us, for it was needful that we should get +a line ashore to prevent the ship from going out with the ebb, and with +one I swam ashore. There was not so much as a stump to which to make +fast, and so one of the men followed me, and we went to the boat, set +the altar stones carefully ashore, then fetched the spare anchor, and +moored her with that in a place where the water seemed deep to the +bank. + +It was a bad place. For when the tide fell, which it did very fast, we +found that we had put her on a ledge. Presently therefore, and while we +were trying to bail out the water that was in her, the ship took the +ground aft, and we could not move her before the worst happened. +Swiftly the tide left her, and her long keel bent and twisted, and her +planks gaped with the strain of her own weight, all the greater for the +water yet in her that flowed to the hanging bows. The good ship might +sail no more. Her back was broken. + +That was the only time that I have ever seen my father weep. But as the +stout timbers cracked and groaned under the strain it seemed to him as +if the ship that he loved was calling piteously to him for help that he +could not give, and it was too much for him. The gale that was yet +raging overhead and the sea that was still terrible in the wide waters +of the river had been things that had not moved him, for that the ship +should break up in a last struggle with them was, as it were, a fitting +end for her. But that by his fault here in the hardly-won haven she +should meet her end was not to be borne, and he turned away from us and +wept. + +Then came my mother and set her hand on his shoulder and spoke softly +to him with wise words. + +“Husband, but a little while ago it would have been wonderful if there +were one of us left alive, or one plank of the ship on another. And now +we are all safe and unhurt, and the loss of the ship is the least of +ills that might have been.” + +“Nay, wife,” he said; “you cannot understand.” + +“Then it is woe for the—for the one who is with us. But how had it been +if you had seen Hodulf and his men round our house, and all the +children slain that one might not escape, while on the roof crowed the +red cock, and naught was left to us? We have lost less than if we had +stayed for that, and we have gained what we sought, even safety. See, +to the shore have come the ancient holy things of our house, and that +not by your guidance. Surely here shall be the place for us that is +best.” + +“Ay, wife; you are right in all these things, but it is not for them.” + +Then she laughed a little, forcing herself to do so, as it seemed. + +“Why, then, it is for the ship that I was ever jealous of, for she took +you away from me. Now I think that I should be glad that she can do so +no more. But I am not, for well I know what the trouble must be, and I +would have you think no more of it. The good ship has saved us all, and +so her work is done, and well done. Never, if she sailed many a long +sea mile with you, would anything be worth telling of her besides this. +And the burden of common things would surely be all unmeet for her +after what she has borne hither.” + +“It is well said, Leva, my wife,” my father answered. + +From that time he was cheerful, and told us how it was certain that we +had been brought here for good, seeing that the Norns[7] must have led +the stones to the haven, so that this must be the place that we sought. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. +THE BEGINNING OF GRIMSBY TOWN. + + +Easily we went ashore when the tide fell, across the spits of sand that +ran between the mud banks, and we climbed the low sandhill range that +hid the land from us, and saw the place where we should bide. And it +might have been worse; for all the level country between us and the +hills was fat, green meadow and marsh, on which were many cattle and +sheep feeding. Here and there were groves of great trees, hemmed in +with the quickset fences that are as good as stockades for defence +round the farmsteads of the English folk, and on other patches of +rising ground were the huts of thralls or herdsmen, and across the wide +meadows glittered and flashed streams and meres, above which the +wildfowl that the storm had driven inland wheeled in clouds. All the +lower hills seemed to be wooded thickly, and the alder copses that +would shelter boar and deer and maybe wolves stretched in some places +thence across the marsh. Pleasant and homely seemed all this after long +looking at the restless sea. + +Then said my father, “Now am I no longer Grim the merchant, and that +pride of mine is at an end. But here is a place where Grim the fisher +may do well enough, if I am any judge of shore and sea. Here have we +haven for the boats, and yonder swim the fish, and inland are the towns +that need them. Nor have we seen a sign of a fisher so far as we have +come.” + +Now we had been seen as soon as we stood on the sandhills; and before +long the herdsman and thralls began to gather to us, keeping aloof +somewhat at first, as if fearing my father’s arms. But when we spoke +with them we could learn nothing, for they were Welsh marshmen who knew +but little of the tongue of their English masters. Serfs they were now +in these old fastnesses of theirs to the English folk of the +Lindiswaras, who had won their land and called it after their own name, +Lindsey. + +But before long there rode from one of the farmsteads an Englishman of +some rank, who had been sent for, as it would seem, and he came with +half a dozen armed housecarls behind him to see what was going on. Him +we could understand well enough, for there is not so much difference +between our tongue and that of the English; and when he learned our +plight he was very kindly. His name was Witlaf Stalling, and he was the +great man of these parts, being lord over many a mile of the marsh and +upland, and dwelling at his own place, Stallingborough, some five miles +to the north and inland hence. + +Now it had been in this man’s power to seize us and all we had as his +own, seeing that we were cast on his shore; but he treated us as guests +rather, bidding us shelter in one of his near farmsteads as long as we +would, and telling my father to come and speak with him when we had +saved what we could from the wreck. He bade the thralls help at that +also, so that we had fallen in with a friend, and our troubles were +less for his kindness. + +We saved what cargo we had left during the next few days, while we +dwelt at the farm. Then at the height of the spring tides the ship +broke up, for a second gale came before the sea that the last had +raised was gone. And then I went with my father to speak with Witlaf +the thane at Stallingborough, that we might ask his leave to make our +home on the little haven, and there become fishers once more. + +That he granted readily, asking many questions about our troubles, for +he wondered that one who had owned so good a ship seemed so content to +become a mere fisher in a strange land, without thought of making his +way home. But all that my father told him was that he had had to fly +from the new king of our land, and that he had been a fisher before, so +that there was no hardship in the change. + +“Friend Grim,” said Witlaf when he had heard this, “you are a brave +man, as it seems to me, and well may you prosper here, as once before. +I will not stand in your way. Now, if you will hold it from me on +condition of service in any time of war, to be rendered by yourself and +your sons and any men you may hire, I will grant you what land you will +along the coast, so that none may question you in anything. Not that +the land is worth aught to any but a fisher who needs a place for boats +and nets; but if you prosper, others will come to the place, and you +shall be master.” + +One could hardly have sought so much as that, and heartily did we thank +the kindly thane, gladly taking the fore shore as he wished. But he +said that he thought the gain was on his side, seeing what men he had +won. + +“Now we must call the place by a name, for it has none,” he said, +laughing. “Grim’s Stead, maybe?” + +“Call the place a town at once,” answered my father, laughing also. +“Grimsby has a good sound to a homeless man.” + +So Grimsby the place has been from that day forward, and, as I suppose, +will be now to the end of time. But for a while there was only the one +house that we built of the timbers and planks of our ship by the side +of the haven—a good house enough for a fisher and his family, but not +what one would look for from the name. + +By the time that was built Havelok was himself again, though he had +been near to his death. Soon he waxed strong and rosy in the sea winds, +and out-went Withelm both in stature and strength. But it seemed that +of all that had happened he remembered naught, either of the storm, or +of his mother’s death, or of the time of Hodulf. My mother thought that +the sickness had taken away his memory, and that it might come back in +time. But from the day we came to the house on the shore he was content +to call Grim and Leva father and mother, and ourselves were his +brothers, even as he will hold us even now. Yet my father would never +take him with us to the fishing, as was right, seeing who he was and +what might lie before him. Nor did he ever ask to go, as we had asked +since we were able to climb into the boat as she lay on the shore; and +we who knew not who he was, and almost forgot how he came to us, ceased +to wonder at this after a while; and it seemed right that he should be +the home-stayer, as if there must needs be one in every household. + +Nevertheless he was always the foremost in all our sports, loving the +weapon play best of all, so that it was no softness that kept him from +the sea. I hold that the old saw that says, “What is bred in the bone +cometh out in the flesh,” is true, and never truer than in the ways of +Havelok. + +For it is not to be thought that because my father went back perforce +to the fisher’s calling he forgot that the son of Gunnar Kirkeban +should be brought up always in such wise that when the time came he +should be ready to go to the slayer of his father, sword in hand, and +knowing how to use it. Therefore both Havelok and we were trained +always in the craft of the warrior. + +Witlaf the thane was right when he said that men would draw to the +place if we prospered, and it was not so long before the name that had +been a jest at first was so no longer. Truly we had hard times at +first, for our one ship’s boat was all unfitted for the fishing; but +the Humber teemed with fish, and there were stake nets to be set that +need no boat. None seemed to care for taking the fish but ourselves, +for the English folk had no knowledge of the riches to be won from the +sea, and the eels of the river were the best that they ever saw. So +they were very ready to buy, and soon the name of Grim the fisher was +known far and wide in Lindsey, for my father made great baskets of the +willows of the marsh, and carried his burden of fish through the land, +alone at first, until we were able to help him, while Arngeir and we +minded the nets. + +Only two of our men stayed here with us, being fishers and old comrades +of my father. The rest he bade find their way home to Denmark to their +wives and children, from the Northumbrian coast, or else take service +with the king, Ethelwald, who ruled in East Anglia, beyond the Wash, +who, being a Dane by descent from the Jutes who took part with Angles +and Saxons in winning this new land, was glad to have Danish men for +his housecarls. Some went to him, and were well received there, as we +knew long afterwards. + +The man who had been washed overboard and hauled back at risk of his +neck was one of these. His name was Mord, and he would have stayed with +us; but my father thought it hard that he should not have some better +chance than we could give him here, for it was not easy to live at +first. Somewhat of the same kind he said to Arngeir, for he had heard +of this king when he had been in the king’s new haven in the Wash some +time ago. But Arngeir would by no means leave the uncle who had been as +a father to him. + +Now when we marked out the land that Witlaf gave us, there was a good +omen. My father set the four blue altar stones at each corner of the +land as the boundaries, saying that thus they would hallow all the +place, rather than make an altar again of them here where there was no +grove to shelter them, or, indeed, any other spot that was not open, +where a holy place might be. And when we measured the distances between +them a second time they were greater than at first, which betokens the +best of luck to him whose house is to be there. I suppose that they +will bide in these places now while Grimsby is a town, for, as every +one knows, it is unlucky to move a boundary stone. + +Soon my father found a man who had some skill in the shipwright’s +craft, and brought him to our place from Saltfleet. Then we built as +good a boat as one could wish, and, not long after that, another. But +my father was careful that none of the Lindsey folk whom he had known +should think that this fisher was the Grim whom they had once traded +with, lest word should go to Hodulf in any way. + +Now we soon hired men to help us, and the fishing throve apace. We +carried the fish even to the great city of Lincoln, where Alsi the +Lindsey king had his court, though it was thirty miles away. For we had +men in the villages on the road who took the great baskets on from one +to another, and always Grim and one of us were there on the market day, +and men said that never had the town and court seen such fish as Grim’s +before. Soon, therefore, he was rich, for a fisher; and that was heard +of by other fishers from far off, and they drew to Grimsby, so that the +town spread, and Witlaf the good thane said that it was a lucky day +which drove us to his shore, for he waxed rich with dues that they were +willing to pay. We built boats and let them out to these men, so that +one might truly say that all the fishery was Grim’s. + +Then a trading ship put in, hearing of the new haven, and that was a +great day for us. But her coming made my father anxious, since Hodulf +was likely to seek for news of Grim the merchant from any who had been +to England; and hearing at last of him, he would perhaps be down on us, +Vikingwise, with fire and sword. But after that traders came and went, +and we heard naught of him except we asked for news; for he left us in +peace, if he knew that his enemy lived yet. Men said that he was not +much loved in Denmark. + +So the town grew, and well did we prosper, so that there is naught to +be said of any more trouble, which is what my story seems to be made up +of so far. Yet we had come well through all at last; and that, I +suppose, is what makes the tale of any man worth hearing. + +Twelve years went all well thus, and in those years Havelok came to +manhood, though not yet to his full strength. What that would be in a +few more summers none could tell, for he was already almost a giant in +build and power, so that he could lift and carry at once the four great +fish baskets, which we bore one at a time when full of fish, easily, +and it was he who could get a stranded boat afloat when we could hardly +move her between us, though all three of us were strong as we grew up. + +Very handsome was Havelok also, and, like many very strong men, very +quiet. And all loved him, from the children who played along the +water’s edge to the oldest dame in the town; for he had a good word for +all, and there was not one in the place whom he had not helped at one +time or another. More than one there was who owed him life—either his +own, or that of a child saved from the water. + +Most of all Havelok loved my father; and once, when he was about +eighteen, he took it into his head that he was burdensome to him by +reason of his great growth. So nothing would satisfy him but that he +must go with us to the fishing, though it was against Grim’s will +somewhat. But he could make no hand at it, seeing that he could pull +any two of us round if he took an oar, and being as likely as not to +break that moreover. Nor could he bear the quiet of the long waiting at +the drift nets, when hour after hour of the night goes by in silence +before the herring shoal comes in a river of blue and silver and the +buoys sink with its weight; rather would he be at the weapon play with +the sons of Witlaf, our friend, who loved him. + +But though the fishing was not for him, after a while he would not be +idle, saying, when my father tried to persuade him to trouble not at +all about our work, that it was no shame for a man to work, but, +rather, that he should not do so. So one day he went to the old Welsh +basket maker who served us, and bade him make a great basket after his +own pattern, the like of which the old man had never so much as thought +of. + +“Indeed, master,” he said, when it was done, “you will never be able to +carry so great a load of fish as that will hold.” + +“Let us see,” quoth Havelok, laughing; and with that he put him gently +into it, and lifted him into the air, and on to his mighty shoulder, +carrying him easily, and setting him down in safety. + +The basket maker was cross at first, but none was able to be angry with +Havelok long, and he too began to smile. + +“It is ‘curan’ that you are, master,” he said; “not even Arthur himself +could have done that.” + +“Many times have I heard your folk call me that. I would learn what it +means,” said Havelok. + +But the old man could hardly find the English word for the name, which +means “a wonder,” and nothing more. Nevertheless the marsh folk were +wont to call their friend “Hablok Curan” in their talk, for a wonder he +was to all who knew him. + +So he came home with his great basket, and said, “Here sit I by the +fire, eating more than my share, and helping to win it not at all. Now +will I make amends, for I will go the fisher’s rounds through the +marshlands with my basket, and I think that I shall do well.” + +Now my father tried to prevent him doing this, because, as I know now, +it was not work for a king’s son. But Havelok would not be denied. + +“Fat and idle am I, and my muscles need hardening,” he said. “Let me +go, father, for I was restless at home.” + +So from that time he went out into the marshland far and wide, and the +people grew to know and love him well. Always he came back with his +fish sold, and gave money and full account to my father, and mostly the +account would end thus: + +“Four fish also there were more, but the burden was heavy, and so I +even gave them to a certain old dame.” + +And my mother would say, “It is likely that the burden was lighter for +her blessing.” + +And, truly, if the love of poor folk did help, Havelok’s burden weighed +naught, great though it was. + +Yet we thought little of the blessings of the Welsh folk of the marsh +in those days, for they blessed not in the names of the Asir, being +sons of the British Christians of long ago, and many, as I think, +Christians yet. Witlaf and all the English folk were Odin’s men, as we +were, having a temple at the place called Thor’s Way, among the hills. +But we had naught to do with the faith of the thralls, which was not +our business. Only Withelm was curious in the matter, and was wont to +ask them thereof at times, though at first they feared to tell him +anything, seeing how the Saxons and English had treated the Christian +folk at their first coming. But that was forgotten now, by the English +at least, and times were quiet for these poor folk. There was a wise +man, too, of their faith, who lived in the wild hills not far from the +city, and they were wont to go to him for advice if they needed it. +They said also that the king of Lindsey had once been a Christian, for +he was Welsh by birth on his mother’s side, and had been so brought up. +It is certain that his sister Orwenna, who married Ethelwald of East +Anglia, was one, but I have seen Alsi the king at the feasts of the +Asir at Thor’s Way when Yuletide was kept, so it is not so certain +about him. He had many Welsh nobles about him at the court, kinsmen of +his mother mostly, so that it did not seem strange, though there is not +much love lost between the English and the folk whom they conquered, as +one might suppose. + +Now, as I have said, none but Withelm thought twice about these things; +but in the end the love of the marsh folk was a thing that was needed, +and that Withelm had learned somewhat of their faith was the greatest +help that could be, as will be seen. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. +BROTHERHOOD. + + +True are the words of the Havamal, the song of the wisdom of Odin, +which say, “One may know and no other, but all men know if three know.” + +Therefore for all these years my father told none of us the secret of +Havelok’s birth; and when Arngeir married my sister Solva he made him +take oath that he would not tell what he knew to her, while she, being +but a child at the time of the flight, had forgotten how this +well-loved brother of hers came to us. But it happened once that Grim +was sick, and it seemed likely that he would die, so that this secret +weighed on him, and he did not rightly know what to do for the best, +Havelok at the time being but seventeen, and the time that he should +think of his own place not being yet come. At that time he told Arngeir +all that he foresaw, and set things in order, that we three should not +be backward when need was. + +He called us to him, Havelok not being present, and spoke to us. + +“Sons,” he said, “well have you all obeyed me all these years, and I +think that you will listen to me now, for I must speak to you of +Havelok, who came to us as you know. Out of his saving from his foes +came our flight here; and I will not find fault with any of the things +that happened, for they have turned out well, save that it seems that I +may never see the land of my birth again, and at times I weary for it. +For me Denmark seems to lie within the four square of the ancient +stones; but if you will do my bidding, you and Havelok shall see her +again, though how I cannot tell.” + +Then I could hardly speak for trouble, but Withelm said softly, “As we +have been wont to do, father, so it shall be.” + +“Well shall my word be kept, therefore,” Grim said, smiling on us. +“Listen, therefore. In the days to come, when time is ripe, Arngeir +shall tell you more of Havelok your foster-brother, and there will be +signs enough by which he shall know that it is time to speak. And then +Havelok will need all the help that you can give him; and as your lord +shall you serve him, with both hands, and with life itself if need be. +And I seem to see that each of you has his place beside him—Radbard as +his strong helper, and Raven as his watchful comrade, and Withelm as +his counsellor. For ‘Bare is back without brother behind it,’ son +Radbard and ‘Ere one goes out, give heed to the doorways,’ son Raven; +and ‘Wisdom is wanted by him who fares widely’ son Withelm. So say the +old proverbs, and they are true. No quarreller is Havelok; but if he +must fight, that will be no playground. Careful is he; but he has met +with no guile as yet, and he trusts all men. Slow to think, if sure, +are so mighty frames as his becomes, even when quick wit is needed.” + +He was silent for a while, and I thought that he had no more to say, +and I knew that he had spoken rightly of what each was best fitted for, +but he went on once more. + +“This is my will, therefore, that to you shall Havelok be as the eldest +brother from this time forward, that these places shall not have to +come suddenly to you hereafter. Then will you know that I have spoken +rightly, though maybe it seems hard to Radbard and Raven now, they +being so much older.” + +Then I said truly that already Havelok was first in our hearts. And +that was true, for he was as a king among us—a king who was served by +all with loving readiness, and yet one who served all. Maybe that is +just what makes a good king when all is said and done. + +Then my father bade us carry him out of the house and down to the shore +where there was a lonely place in the sandhills, covered with the +sweet, short grass that the sheep love; and, while Raven and I bore +him, Withelm went and brought Havelok. + +“This is well, father,” he said gladly. “I had not thought you strong +enough to come thus far.” + +“Maybe it is the last time that I come living out of the house,” Grim +said; “but there is one thing yet to be done, and it must be done here. +See, son Havelok, these are your brothers in all but blood, and they +must be that also in the old Danish way.” + +“Nothing more is needed, father,” Havelok said, wondering. “I have no +brothers but these of mine, and they could be no more so.” + +Thereat my father smiled, as well content, but he said that the ancient +way must he kept. + +“But I am sorely weak,” he added. “Fetch hither Arngeir.” + +It was because of this illness that none of us were at the fishing on +that day, and Arngeir was not long in coming. And while we waited for +that little while my father was silent, looking ever northward to the +land that he had given up for Havelok; and I think that foster-son of +his knew it, for he knelt beside him and set his strong arm round him, +saying nothing. So Arngeir came with Raven, who went for him, and my +father told him what he needed to be done; and Arngeir said that it was +well thought of, and went to work with his seax on the smooth turf. + +He cut a long strip where it seemed to be toughest, leaving the ends +yet fast, and carefully he raised it and stretched it until it would +make an arch some three spans high, and so propped it at either end +with more turf that it stayed in that position. + +Then my father said, “This is the old custom, that they who are of +different family should be brothers indeed. Out of one earth should +they be made afresh, as it were, that on the face of earth they shall +be one. Pass therefore under the arch, beginning with Havelok.” + +Then, while my father spoke strange and ancient runes, Havelok did as +he was bidden, kneeling down and creeping under the uplifted turf; and +as I came after him he gave me his hand and raised me, and so with each +of the other two. And then, unbidden, Arngeir followed, for he too +loved Havelok, and would fain be his brother indeed. + +After that my father took a sharp flint knife that he had brought with +him, and with it cut Havelok’s arm a little, and each of us set his +lips to that wound, and afterwards he to the like marks in our right +arms, and so the ancient rite was complete. + +Yet it had not been needed, as I know, for not even I ever thought of +him but as the dearest of brothers, though I minded how he came. + +Now after this my father grew stronger, maybe because this was off his +mind; but he might never go to sea again, nor even to Lincoln town, for +he was not strong enough. What his illness was I do not rightly know, +hut I do not think that any one here overlooked him, though it might be +that from across the sea Hodulf had power to work him harm. It was said +that he had Finnish wizards about his court; but if that was so, he +never harmed the one whom he had most to fear—even Havelok. But then I +suppose that even a Finn could not harm one for whom great things are +in store. + +So two years more passed over, and then came the time of which one +almost fears to think—the time of the great famine. Slowly it came on +the land; but we could see it coming, and the dread of it was fearsome, +but for the hope that never quite leaves a man until the end. For first +the wheat that was winter sown came not up but in scattered blades here +and there, and then ere the spring-sown grain had lain in the land for +three weeks it had rotted, and over the rich, ploughed lands seemed to +rise a sour smell in the springtime air, when one longs for the +sweetness of growing things. And then came drought in April, and all +day long the sun shone, or if it were not shining the clouds that hid +it were hard and grey and high and still over land and sea. + +Then before the marsh folk knew what they were doing, the merchants of +Lincoln had bought the stored corn, giving prices that should have told +men that it was precious to those who sold as to the buyers; and then +the grass failed in the drought, and the farmers were glad to sell the +cattle and sheep for what they could gain, rather than see them starve. + +Then my father bade us dry and store all the fish we might against the +time that he saw was coming, and hard we worked at that. And even as we +toiled, from day to day we caught less, for the fish were leaving the +shores, and we had to go farther and farther for them, until at last a +day came when the boats came home empty, and the women wept at the +shore as the men drew them up silently, looking away from those whom +they could feed no longer. + +That was the worst day, as I think, and it was in high summer. I mind +that I went to Stallingborough that day with the last of the fresh fish +of yesterday’s catch for Witlaf’s household, and it was hotter than +ever; and in all the orchards hung not one green apple, and even the +hardy blackberry briers had no leaves or sign of blossom, and in the +dikes the watercress was blackened and evil to see. + +But I will say that in Grimsby we felt not the worst, by reason of that +wisdom of my father, and always Witlaf and his house shared with us. +Hard it was here, but elsewhere harder. + +And then came the pestilence that goes with famine always. I have heard +that men have prayed to their gods for that, for it has seemed better +to them to die than live. + +With the first breath of the pestilence died Grim my father, and about +that I do not like to say much. He bade us remember the words he had +spoken of Havelok our brother, and he spoke long to Arngeir in private +of the same; and then he told us to lay him in mound in the ancient +way, but with his face toward Denmark, whence we came. And thereafter +he said no more, but lay still until there came up suddenly through the +thick air a thunderstorm from the north; and in that he passed, and +with his passing the rain came. + +Thereof Withelm said that surely Odin fetched him, and that at once he +had made prayer for us. But the Welsh folk said that not Odin but the +White Christ had taken the man who had been a father to them, and had +staved off the worst of the famine from them. + +Then pined and died my mother Leva, for she passed in her sleep on the +day before we made the mound over her husband, and so we laid them in +it together, and that was well for both, as I think, for so they would +have wished. + +So we made a great bale fire over my father’s mound, where it stood +over the highest sandhill; and no warrior was ever more wept, for +English and Welsh and Danes were at one in this. We set his weapons +with him, and laid him in the boat that was the best—and a Saxon gave +that—and in it oars and mast and sail, and so covered him therein. And +so he waits for the end of all things that are now, and the beginning +of those better ones that shall be. + +That thunderstorm was nothing to the land, for it skirted the shores +and died away to the south, and after it came the heat again; but at +least it brought a little hope. There were fish along the shore that +night, too, if not many; and though they were gone again in the +morning, there was a better store in every house, for men were mindful +of Grim’s teaching. + +Now, of all men, Havelok seemed to feel the trouble of the famine the +most, because he could not bear to see the children hungry in the +cottages of the fishers. It seemed to him that he had more than his +share of the stores, because so mighty a frame of his needed feeding +mightily, as he said. And so for two days after my father died and was +left in his last resting, Havelok went silent about the place. Here by +the shore the pestilence hardly came, and so that trouble was not added +to us, though the weak and old went, as had Grim and Leva, here and +there. + +Then, on the third day, Havelok called Arngeir and us, and spoke what +was in his mind. + +“Brothers, I may not bear this any longer, and I must go away. I can do +no more to help than can the weakest in the town; and even my strength +is an added trouble to those who have not enough without me. Day by day +grows the store in the house less; and it will waste more slowly if I +am elsewhere.” + +Then Arngeir said quickly, “This is foolishness, Havelok, my brother. +Whither will you go? For worse is the famine inland; and I think that +we may last out here. The fish will come back presently.” + +“I will go to Lincoln. All know that there is plenty there, for the +townsfolk were wise in time. There is the court, and at the court a +strong man is likely to be welcome, if only as one who shall keep the +starving poor from the doors, as porter.” + +He spoke bitterly, for Alsi, the king, had no good name for kindness, +and at that Withelm laughed sadly. + +“Few poor would Havelok turn away,” he said, under his breath; “rather +were he likely to take the king’s food from the very board, and share +it among them.” + +That made us laugh a little, for it was true enough; and one might seem +to see our mighty one sweeping the table, while none dared try to stay +him. + +But many times of late Havelok had gone dinnerless, that he might feed +some weak one in the village. Maybe some of us did likewise; but, if +so, we learned from him. + +“Well, then,” Havelok said, when we had had our wretched laugh, “Alsi, +the king, can better afford to feed me than can anyone else. Therefore, +I will go and see about it. And if not the king, then, doubtless, some +rich merchant will give me food for work, seeing that I can lift things +handily. But Radbard here is a great and hungry man also, and it will +be well that he come with me; or else, being young and helpless, I may +fall into bad hands.” + +So he spoke, jesting and making little of the matter. But I saw that he +was right, and that we who were strong to take what might come should +go away. It was likely that a day of our meals would make a week’s fare +for Arngeir’s three little ones, and they were to be thought for. + +Now for a little while Arngeir tried to keep us back; but it was plain +that he knew also that our going was well thought of, and only his care +for Havelok stood in the way. Indeed, he said that I and Raven might +go. + +“Raven knows as much about the fish as did our father,” Havelok said. +“He will go out in the morning, and look at sky and sea, and sniff at +the wind; and if I say it will be fine, he says that the herrings will +be in such a place; and so they are, while maybe it rains all day to +spite my weather wisdom. You cannot do without Raven; for it is ill to +miss any chance of the sea just now. Nor can Withelm go, for he knows +all in the place, and who is most in want. It will not do to be without +house steward. So we two will go. Never have I been to Lincoln yet, and +Radbard knows the place well.” + +I think that I have never said that Grim would never take Havelok to +the city, lest he should be known by some of the Danish folk who came +now and then to the court, some from over seas, and others from the +court of King Ethelwald, of whom I have spoken, the Norfolk king. But +that danger was surely over now, for Havelok would be forgotten in +Denmark; and Ethelwald was long dead, and his wife also, leaving his +daughter Goldberga to her uncle Alsi, as his ward. So Alsi held both +kingdoms until the princess was of age, when she would take her own. It +was said that she lived at Dover until that time, and so none of her +Danes were likely to be at court if we went there and found places. + +So Havelok’s plan was to be carried out, and he and I were to set forth +next morning. Arngeir was yet uneasy about it, nevertheless, as one +could see; but I did not at that time know why it should be so doubtful +a matter that two strong men should go forth and seek their fortune but +thirty miles away. So we laughed at him. + +“Well,” he said, “every one knows Radbard; but they will want to know +who his tall comrade may be. Old foes has Havelok, as Radbard knows, +and therefore it may be well to find a new name for him.” + +“No need to go far for that,” Withelm said. “The marsh folk call him +Curan.” + +“Curan, the wonder, is good,” Arngeir said, after a little thought, for +we all knew Welsh enough by this time. “Or if you like a Danish name +better, brother, call it ‘Kwaran,’ but silent about yourself you must +surely be.” + +We used to call him that at times—for it means “the quiet” in our old +tongue—seeing how gentle and courtly he was in all his ways. So the +name was well fitting in either way. + +“Silent and thoughtful should the son of a king be,” says the Havamal, +and so it was with Havelok, son of Gunnar. + +Now when I came to think, it was plain that we three stood in the mind +of our brother in the place which my father had boded for us, and I was +glad. Well I knew that Raven, the watchful, and Withelm, the wise and +thoughtful, would do their parts; and I thought that whether I could do +mine was to be seen very shortly. If I failed in help at need it should +not be my fault. It had been long growing in my mind who Havelok must +be, though I said nothing of what I thought, because my father had +bidden me be silent long ago, and I thought that I knew why. + +We were to start early in the morning, so that we should get to the +city betimes in the evening; and there was one thing that troubled the +good sisters more than it did us. They would have had us go in all our +finery, such as we were wont to wear on holidays and at feastings; but +none of that was left. It had gone in buying corn, while there was any +left to buy, along with every silver penny that we had. So we must go +in the plain fisher gear, that is made for use and not for show, frayed +and stained, and a trifle tarry, but good enough. It would not do to go +in our war gear into a peaceful city; and so we took but the seax that +every Englishman wears, and the short travelling spear that all +wayfarers use. Hardly was it likely that even the most hungry outlaw of +the wild woldland would care to fall on us; for by this time such as we +seemed had spent their all in food for themselves and their families, +and all the money in Lindsey seemed to have gone away to places where +there was yet somewhat to buy. + +Busy were those kind sisters of ours that night in making ready the +last meal that we should need to take from them. And all the while they +foretold pleasant things for us at the king’s court—how that we should +find high honour and the like. So they set us forth well and +cheerfully. + +With the dawn we started, and Havelok was thoughtful beyond his wont +after we had bidden farewell to the home folk, so that I thought that +he grieved for leaving them at the last. + +“Downhearted, are you, brother?” I said, when we had gone a couple of +miles in silence across the level. “I have been to Lincoln two or three +times in a month sometimes in the summer, and it is no great distance +after all. I think nothing of the journey, or of going so short a way +from home.” + +“Nor do I,” he answered. “First, I was thinking of the many times my +father, Grim, went this way, and now he can walk no more; and then I +was thinking of that empty cottage we passed just now, where there was +a pleasant little family enough three months ago, who are all gone. And +then—ay, I will tell you—I had a dream last night that stays in my +mind, so that I think that out of this journey of ours will come +somewhat.” + +“Food and shelter, to wit,” said I, “which is all we want for a month +or two. Let us hear it.” + +“If we get all that I had in that dream, we shall want no more all our +lives,” he said, with a smile; “but it seems a foolish dream, now that +I come to tell it.” + +“That is mostly the way with dreams. It is strange how wonderful they +seem until daylight comes. I have heard Witlaf’s gleeman say that the +best lays he ever made were in his sleep; but if he remembered aught of +them, they were naught.” + +“It is not like that altogether with my dream,” Havelok said, “for it +went thus. I thought that I was in Denmark—though how I knew it was +Denmark I cannot say—and on a hill I sat, and at my feet was stretched +out all the land, so that I could see all over it at once. Then I +longed for it, and I stretched out my arms to gather it in, and so long +were they that they could well fathom it, and so I drew it to myself. +With towns and castles it was gathered in, and the keys of the +strongholds fell rattling at my feet, while the weight of the great +land seemed to lie on my knees. Then said one, and the voice was the +voice of Grim, ‘This is not all the dream that I have made for you, but +it is enough for now.’ That is the dream, therefore, and what make you +of it?” + +“A most amazing hunger, brother, certainly, and promise of enough to +satisfy it withal. I think that the sisters have talked about our +advancement at court until you have dreamed thereof.” + +“Why,” he said, “that is surely at the bottom of the dream, and I am +foolish to think more of it.” + +Then we went on, and grew light hearted as the miles passed. But though +I had seemed to think little of the dream, it went strangely with my +thoughts of what might lie before Havelok in days to come. + +As we went inland from the sea, the track of the pestilence was more +dread, for we passed house after house that had none living in them, +and some held the deserted dead. I might say many things of what we +saw, but I do not like to think of them much. Many a battlefield have I +seen since that day, but I do not think them so terrible as the field +over which has gone the foe that is unseen ere he smites. One knows the +worst of the battle when it is over and the roll is called, but who +knows where famine and pestilence stay? And those have given life for +king or land willingly, but these were helpless. + +It was good to climb the welds and look back, for in the high lands +there was none of this. Below us the levels, with their bright waters, +were wrapped in a strange blue haze, that had come with the famine at +its worst, and, as men said, had brought or made the sickness. I had +heard of it; but it was not so plain when one was in it, or else our +shore was free, which is likely, seeing how little we suffered. + +After that we kept to the high land, not so much fearing the blue robe +of the pestilence as what things of its working we might see; and so it +was late in the afternoon that we came in sight of Lincoln town, on its +hill, with the wide meres and river at its feet. I have seen no city +that stands more wonderfully than this of ours, with the grey walls of +the Roman town to crown the gathering of red and brown roofs that +nestle on the slope and within them. And ever as we drew nearer Havelok +became more silent, as I thought because he had never seen so great a +town before, until we passed the gates of the stockade that keeps the +town that lies without the old walls, and then he said, looking round +him strangely, “Brother, you will laugh at me, no doubt, for an arrant +dreamer, but this is the place whereto in dreams I have been many a +time. Now we shall come to yon turn of the road among the houses, and +beyond that we shall surely see a stone-arched gate in a great wall, +and spearmen on guard thereat.” + +It was so, and the gate and guard were before us in a few more steps. +It was the gate of the old Roman town, inside which was the palace of +the king and one or two more great houses only. Our English kin hate a +walled town or a stone house, and they would not live within the strong +walls, whose wide span was, save for the king’s palace, which was built +partly of the house of the Roman governor, and these other halls, which +went for naught in so wide a meadow, empty and green, and crossed by +two paved roads, with grass growing between the stones. There were +brown marks, as of the buried stones of other foundations, on the grass +where the old streets had been. + +All the straggling English town was outside the walls, and only in time +of war would the people use them as a stronghold, as they used the +still more ancient camps on the hills. + +“Many times have you heard us tell of this place, Havelok,” I said. “It +is no wonder that you seem to know it.” + +“Nay,” he answered, “but this is the city of my dreams, and somewhat is +to happen here.” + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. +BERTHUN THE COOK. + + +For that night we went to the house of the old dame with whom my father +and I were wont to lodge when we came to the market, and she took us in +willingly, though she could make little cheer for us. Truly, as had +been said, the scarcity was not so great in Lincoln, but everything was +terribly dear, and that to some is almost as bad. + +“No money have I now, dame,” I said ruefully, “but I think that for old +sake’s sake you will not turn us away.” + +“Not I, faith,” she answered. “I mind the first day your father came +here, and never a penny had he, and since then there has been no want +in this house. Luck comes with Grim and his folk, as I think. But this +is a son whom I have not seen before, if he is indeed your brother.” + +“I am Grim’s son Curan,” said Havelok, “and I have not been to Lincoln +ere this. But I have heard of you many times.” + +That pleased our old hostess, and then she asked after Grim. Hard it +was to have to tell her that he was gone, and hard it was for her to +hear, for the little house had been open to us for ten years. + +“What will you do now, masters?” she asked, when she had told us of +many a kindness done to her and her husband, who was long dead now, by +my father. + +I told her that we were too many at home since the fishing had failed, +and had therefore come to find some work here, at the court if +possible. + +“Doubtless two strong men will not have to go far to find somewhat,” +she said; “but the court is full of idle folk, and maybe no place is +empty. Now I will have you bide with me while you are at a loose end, +for there are yet a few silver pennies in store, and I ween that they +came out of Grim’s pouch to me. Lonely am I, and it is no good hoarding +them when his sons are hungry.” + +We thanked her for that kind saying, but she made light of it, saying +that almost did she hope that we should find no work, that we might +bide and lighten her loneliness for a time. + +“But if an old woman’s advice is good for aught, you shall not go to +the court first of all. Sour is King Alsi, and he is likely to turn you +away offhand rather than grant the smallest boon. But there is Berthun +the cook, as we call him—steward is his court name though—and he orders +the household, and is good-natured, so that all like him. Every morning +he comes into the market, and there you can ask him if there is a place +for you, and he loves to look on a man such as Curan. But if it is +weapons you want—and I suppose that is in the minds of tall men always, +though it brings sorrow in the end—there is the captain of the guard +who lives over the gate, and he might be glad to see you enough.” + +We said that we would see the steward, for we wanted no long +employment. We would go back to Grimsby when the famine ended, if it +were only by the coming of the fish again. + +Then she gave us of the best she had—black bread and milk to wit; and +after that we slept soundly before the fire, as I had done many times +before in that humble house. Black bread and milk it was again in the +morning; but there was plenty, and goodwill to season it. Then the old +dame sent us forth cheerfully and early, that we might not miss Berthun +the steward, from whom she hoped great things for us. + +So we sat in the marketplace for an hour or more watching the gates of +the wall for his coming; and men stared at Havelok, so that we went to +the bridge and waited there. One could see all the market from thence. +There were a good many of the market folk coming in presently, and most +of them knew me, and more than one stopped and spoke. + +Now Havelok grew restless, and wandered here and there looking at +things, though not going far from me; and while I was thus alone on the +bridge, a man I knew by sight came and leaned on the rail by me, and +told me that he had just seen the most handsome man and the goodliest +to look on that was in the kingdom, as he thought. + +“Yonder he stands,” he said, “like a king who has fallen on bad times. +I mind that I thought that Alsi, our king, would look like that, before +I saw him, and sorely disappointed was I in him therefore. Now I wonder +who yon man may be?” + +I did not say that I knew, but I looked at Havelok, and for the first +time, perhaps because I had never seen him among strangers before, I +knew that he was wondrous to look on. Full head and shoulders was he +above all the folk, and the Lindseymen are no babes in stature. And at +the same moment it came to me that it were not well that men should +know him as the son of Grim the fisher. If my father, who was the +wisest of men, had been so careful for all these years, I must not be +less so; for if there were ever any fear of the spies of Hodulf, it +would be now when his foe might be strong enough in years to think of +giving trouble. Not that I ever thought much of the said Hodulf, seeing +how far off he was; but my father had brought me up to dread him for +this brother of mine. Certainly by this time Hodulf knew that Grim had +come to England in safety, for the name of the new town must have come +to his ears: and if Grim, then the boy he had given to him. + +The man who spoke to me went away soon, and Havelok strolled back to +me. + +“I would that the cook, or whoever he is, would come,” he said. “I grow +weary of this crowd that seems to have naught to do but stare at a +stranger.” + +“What shall we ask, when he does come? and supposing that there is a +place for but one of us?” I said. + +“Why, then, the one it fits best will take it, and the other must seek +some other chance. That is all.” + +“As you will, brother,” I answered, “but I would rather that we should +be together.” + +“And I also. But after all, both will be in Lincoln, and we must take +what comes. It is but for a little while, and we shall not like to +burden that good old dame by being too hard to please. We want somewhat +to do until we can go home, not for a day longer, and I care not what +it is.” + +“That is right,” I said; “and the sooner I see one of our folk coming +over this bridge with a full basket of fish, the better I shall like +it. But it may be a long day before that. Now, I have been thinking +that it were not well that you should say that you are the son of +Grim.” + +I did not quite know how he would take this, for he was proud of my +father as I. But that very pride made it easy. + +“Maybe not,” he said thoughtfully, “for it seems unworthy of his sons +that we have to ask for service from any man. But I do not think that +he could blame us, as things are. Nevertheless, folk shall not talk.” + +“Men know me,” said I, “but that cannot be helped.” + +He laughed gaily at that. + +“Why, here we speak as if one man in a hundred knew you. And after all +it may be that we shall get a place that none need be ashamed of. Look, +here comes a mighty fine lord from the gateway.” + +It was Berthun the steward, for whom we were waiting, and I knew him +well by sight. Often had he bought our fish, but I did not think that +he would remember me by name, if he had ever heard it. He was a portly +and well-favoured man, not old, and as he came down the street to the +marketplace at the hill foot he laughed and talked with one and another +of the townsfolk, whether high or low, in very pleasant wise. + +Presently he stopped at a stall, and priced some meat; and when he had +bought it he looked round and called for some men to carry it for him; +and at that the idlers made a rush for him, tripping over one another +in haste to be first, while he laughed at them. + +He chose two or three, and sent them up the hill to the palace with +their burdens, and then went to another booth and bought. + +“This is work at which I should make a good hand,” said Havelok, +laughing at the scrambling men who ran forward when the steward again +called for porters. “Well paid also the job must be, to judge of their +eagerness.” + +The three men who had been chosen took their burden and went away, and +the steward came near us, to a bakery that was close to the bridge end. + +“I have a mind to do porter for once,” Havelok said. “Then I can at +least earn somewhat to take back to the dame tonight.” + +“If you do so,” I answered, “I will wait here for you. But you will +have to fight for the place.” + +Now the steward bought all that he needed, and that was bread for the +whole palace for the day, and again he called for porters. Whereon +Havelok got up from the bridge rail and went towards him in no great +hurry, so that the idlers were in a crowd before him. + +“Ho! friends,” cried Havelok, “let the good cook see all of us and make +his choice. He can only take one at a time.” + +“One, forsooth,” said a man from the crowd; “why, there is a load for +four men there.” + +“Well, then, let him pick four little ones, and give these little ones +a chance of being seen.” + +Now I do not think that he would have troubled with the matter any +more; but whether the men knew that this was the last load that the +steward had to send home, or whether they quarrelled, I cannot say, but +in their eagerness to raise the two great baskets they fell to +struggling over them, and the steward tried to quiet the turmoil by a +free use of his staff, and there was a danger that the bread should be +scattered. + +“Here will be waste of what there is none too much of just now,” said +Havelok; and with that he went to the aid of the steward, picking up +and setting aside the men before him, and then brushing the struggling +rivals into a ruefully wondering heap from about the baskets, so that +he and the steward faced each other, while there fell a silence on the +little crowd that had gathered. Even the men who had been put aside +stayed their abuse as they saw what manner of man had come to the +rescue of the baskets, and Havelok and the cook began to laugh. + +“Fe, fi, fo, fum!” said Berthun; “here is surely a Cornish giant among +us! Now I thank you, good Blunderbore, or whatever your name is, for +brushing off these flies.” + +“The folk in this place are unmannerly,” said Havelok; “hut if you want +the bread carried up the hill I will do it for you.” + +Berthun looked him up and down in a puzzled sort of way once or twice +ere he answered, “Well, as that is your own proposal, pick your helpers +and do so; I would not have asked such a thing of you myself.” + +“There is not much help needed,” said Havelok. “I think this may be +managed if I get a fair hold.” + +Now we were used to seeing him carry such loads as would try the +strength of even Raven and myself, who could lift a load for three men; +but when he took the two great baskets of bread and swung them into +place on either arm, a smothered shout went round the crowd, and more +than once I heard the old Welsh name that the marsh folk had given him +spoken. + +“Let us be going,” said Havelok to the steward on that. “One would +think that none of these had ever hefted a fair load in his life, to +listen to them.” + +So he nodded to me across the heads of the crowd, and followed Berthun, +and the idlers followed him for a little. The guard turned these back +at the gate, and Havelok went through, and I could see him no more. + +Presently the crowd drifted back to their places, and I heard them +talking. Havelok and his strength was likely to be a nine days’ wonder +in Lincoln, and I was glad that I had asked him not to say whence he +was. + +“He is some thane’s son who is disguised,” said one. + +“Maybe he is under a vow,” said another; and then one chimed in with a +story of some prince of Arthur’s time, by name Gareth, who hid his +state at his mother’s command. + +“As for me,” said the baker, “I think that he is a fisher, as he +looks—at least, that is, as his clothes make him.” + +So even he had his doubts, and I will say that I understood well enough +now why my father never brought him here before. + +Havelok was long in coming back, as I thought, and I seemed to be +wasting time here, and so I bethought me of the other man to whom the +old dame had said we might go—namely, the captain of the gate. I should +see Havelok if I stood there. + +The captain was talking with some of his men as I came up, and of +course it was of Havelok that they spoke; and seeing that I wore the +same dress as he, they asked me if I knew who he was. + +“He is a fisher from the coast,” I answered. “I have heard him called +Curan.” + +“Welsh then,” the captain answered, somewhat disappointed, as it +seemed. “If he had been a Mercian, or even a Saxon, I would have had +him here, but a fisher has had no training in arms after all.” + +“Some of us have,” said I. + +The captain looked me up and down, and then walked round me, saying +nothing until we were face to face again. + +“That, I take it, is a hint that you might like to be a housecarl of +the king’s,” he said. “Are you a Lindseyman?” + +“I am the son of Grim of Grimsby,” I said. + +“Why, then, I suppose you would not think of it, seeing that my place +is not empty; but if you will dress in that way you must not wonder if +I took you for a likely man for a housecarl. We know Grim well by +repute. Come in and tell me about the famine, and this new town of +yours that one hears of.” + +Now I could not see Havelok as yet, and so I went into the stone-arched +Roman guardroom, and Eglaf the captain fetched out a pot of wine and +some meat, and made me very welcome while we talked. And presently I +thought that I might do worse than be a housecarl for a time, if Eglaf +would have me. I should be armed at least, and with comrades to help if +Havelok needed me; though all the while I thought myself foolish for +thinking that any harm could come to him who was so strong. +Nevertheless, what my father had laid on us all was to be heeded, and I +was to be his helper in arms. So presently I told Eglaf that the +housecarl’s life seemed an easy one, and that it would be pleasant to +go armed for a while, if he would have me for a short time, seeing that +the famine had left us naught to do. + +“Well, there is plenty to eat and drink,” he said, “and good lodging in +the great hall or here, as one’s post may be, and a silver penny every +day; but no fighting to be done, seeing that Alsi will sooner pay a foe +to go away than let us see to the matter. Doing naught is mighty hard +work at times.” + +Then he asked if I had arms, and I said that I would send for them at +once, and that settled the matter. If I chose to come with my own arms +I should be welcome. + +“I am glad to get you,” he said, “for there will be a crowd in the +place ere long, for the Witan is to meet, and the thanes will come with +their men, and there will be fine doings, so that we need another +strong arm or two that we may keep the peace,” + +He took a long pull at the wine pot, and then went on, “Moreover, the +princess’s Danes are sure to want to fight some of the English folk for +sport.” + +“What! is she here?” + +“Not yet. They say that she is coming when the Witan meets, because the +Witan wants to see her, not because Alsi does. But he dare not go +against them, and so it must be.” + +Now Goldberga, the princess, was, as I have said, Alsi’s ward, and was +at this time just eighteen, so that it would be time for her to take +the kingdom that was hers by right. It was common talk, however, that +Alsi by no means liked the thought of giving the wide lands of East +Anglia up to her, and that he would not do so if he could anywise help +it. Maybe the Witan thought so also, and would see fair play. Ethelwald +and his wife Orwenna had been well loved both here and in Norfolk, and +it was said that Goldberga their daughter grew wondrous fair and +queenly. + +I had learned one thing though, and that was that we should have +Ethelwald’s Danes here shortly, and that I did not like; but after all, +what did these few men of an old household know of the past days in +Denmark? There had been no going backwards and forwards between the two +countries since the king died ten years ago. Nevertheless I was glad +that I had found a friend in Eglaf, and that I was to be here. + +Then I got up to go, and the captain bade me come as soon as I could, +for he could talk to me as he could not to the men, maybe. So I bade +him farewell, and went slowly back, down the street, sitting down in +the old place. + +It was not long after that before Havelok came, and I saw Berthun the +steward come as far as the gate with him, and stand looking after him +as he walked away; then Eglaf came out, and both looked and talked for +a while, and therefore, as soon as I knew that Havelok saw me, I went +away and across the bridge to a place that was quiet, and waited for +him there. + +“Well, brother,” I said, “you have had a long job with the cook. What +is the end of it all?” + +“I do not know,” he answered slowly. “That is to be seen yet.” + +I looked at him, for his voice was strange, and I saw that he seemed to +have the same puzzled look in his eyes as he had last night when we +came first into the city. I asked if anything was amiss. + +“Nothing,” he said; “but this is a place of dreams. I think that I +shall wake presently in Grimsby.” + +We walked on, and past the straggling houses outside the stockade, and +so into the fields; and little by little he told me what was troubling +him. + +Berthun the steward had said nothing until the palace was reached, and +had led him to the great servants’ hall, and there had bidden him set +down his load and rest. Then he had asked if he would like to see the +place, and of course Havelok had said that he would, wondering at the +same time if this was all the pay that the porters got. So he was shown +the king’s hall, and the arms on the wall, and the high seat, and the +king’s own chamber, and many more things, and all the while they seemed +nothing strange to Havelok. + +“This Berthun watched me as a cat watches a mouse all the while,” he +said, “and at last he asked if I had ever seen a king’s house before. I +told him that I had a dream palace which had all these things, but was +not the same. And at that he smiled and asked my name. ‘Curan,’ I said, +of course; and at that he smiled yet more, in a way that seemed to say +that he did not believe me. ‘It is a good name for the purpose,’ he +said, ‘but I have to ask your pardon for calling you by the old giant’s +name just now.’ I said that as he did not know my name, and it was a +jest that fitted, it was no matter. Then he made a little bow, and +asked if I would take any food before I went from the place; so I told +him that it was just what I came for, and he laughed, and I had such a +meal as I have not seen for months. It is in my mind that I left a +famine in that house, so hungry was I. There is no pride about this +Berthun, for he served me himself, and I thanked him.” + +Then Havelok stopped and passed his hand over his face, and he laughed +a little, uneasy laugh. + +“And all the while I could not get it out of my head that he ought to +be kneeling before me.” + +“Well,” he went on after a little, “when I had done, this Berthun asked +me a question, saying that he was a discreet man, and that if he could +help me in any way he would do so. Had I a vow on me? Nothing more than +to earn my keep until the famine was over, I said. I had left poor folk +who would have the more for my absence, and he seemed to think that +this was a wondrous good deed. So I told him that if he could help me +in this I should be glad. Whereon he lowered his voice and asked if I +must follow the way of Gareth the prince. I had not heard of this +worthy, and so I said that what was good enough for a prince was +doubtless good enough for me, and that pleased him wonderfully. + +“‘Gladly will I take you into my service,’ he said, ‘if that will +content you.’ Which it certainly would; and so I am to be porter again +tomorrow. Then I said that I had a comrade to whom I must speak first. +He said that no doubt word must be sent home of my welfare, and he saw +me as far as the gate.” + +“Which of you went out of the hall first?” I asked. + +“Now I come to think of it, I did. I went to let him pass, as the +elder, though it was in my mind to walk out as if the place belonged to +me; and why, I do not know, for no such thought ever came to me in +Witlaf’s house, or even in a cottage; but he stood aside and made me go +first.” + +Now I longed for Withelm and his counsel, for one thing was plain to +me, and that was that with the once familiar things of the kingship +before him the lost memory of his childhood was waking in Havelok, and +I thought that the time my father boded was at hand. The steward had +seen that a court and its ways were no new thing to him, and had seen +too that he had been wont to take the first place somewhere; so he had +deemed that this princely-looking youth was under a vow of service, in +the old way. It is likely that the Welsh name would make him think that +he was from beyond the marches to the west, and that was just as well. + +Then Havelok said, “Let us go back to the widow’s house and sleep. My +head aches sorely, and it is full of things that are confused, so that +I do not know rightly who I am or where. Maybe it will pass with rest.” + +We turned hack, and then I told him what I meant to do; and that +pleased him, for we should see one another often. + +“We are in luck, brother, so far,” he said, “having lit on what we +needed so soon; but I would that these dreams would pass.” + +“It is the poor food of many days gone by,” I said. “Berthun will cure +that for you very shortly.” + +“It is likely enough,” he answered more gaily. + +“Little want is in that house, but honest Berthun does not know what a +trencherman he has hired. But I would that we had somewhat to take back +to our good old dame tonight.” + +But she was more than satisfied with our news; and when she saw that +Havelok was silent, she made some curious draught of herbs for him, +which he swallowed, protesting, and after that he slept peacefully. + +I went out to the marketplace and found a man whom I knew—one of those +who carried our fish at times; and him I sent, with promise of two +silver pennies presently, to Arngeir for my arms, telling him that all +was well. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. +CURAN THE PORTER. + + +There is no need for me to say how my arms came to me from Grimsby, and +how I went to Eglaf as I had promised. I will only say that the life +was pleasant enough, if idle, as a housecarl, and that I saw Havelok +every day at one time or another, which was all that I could wish. + +But as I had to wait a day or two while the messenger went and the arms +came from home, I saw Havelok meet the steward on the next day: and a +quaint meeting enough it was, for Berthun hardly knew how he should +behave to this man, whom he had made up his mind was a wandering +prince. + +There was the crowd who waited for the call for porters, as ever; hut +the steward would have none of them, until he saw his new man towering +over the rest, and then he half made a motion to unbonnet, which he +checked and turned into a beckoning wave of the hand, whereon the +idlers made their rush for him, and Havelok walked through and over +them, more or less, as they would not make way for him. But so +good-naturedly was this done, that even those whom he lifted from his +path and dropped on one side laughed when they saw who had cleared a +way for himself, and stood gaping to see what came next. + +“Ho—why, yes—Curan—that was the name certainly. I have been looking for +you, as we said,” stammered the steward. + +“Here am I, therefore,” answered Havelok, “and where is the load?” + +“Truth to tell, I have bought but this at present,” said the steward, +pointing to a small basket of green stuff on the stall at which he +stood. + +“Well, I suppose there is more to come,” Havelok said, taking it up; +“it will be a beginning.” + +“I will not ask you to carry more than that,” Berthun began. + +“Why, man, this is foolishness. If you have a porter, make him carry +all he can, else he will not earn his keep.” + +“As you will,” answered the steward, shrugging his shoulders as one who +cannot account for some folk’s whims, and going on to the next booth. + +Now, I suppose that the idlers looked to see Havelok walk away with +this light load gladly, as any one of them would have done, and that +then their turn would have come; but this was not what they expected. +Maybe they would have liked to see the strong man sweep up all the +palace marketing and carry it, as a show, but it might interfere with +their own gains. So there was a murmur or two among them, and this grew +when Havelok took the next burden in like manner. + +“Ho, master cook,” cried a ragged man at last, “this is not the custom, +and it is not fair that one man should do all the work, and all for one +wage.” + +Berthun took no notice of this; and so the cry was repeated, and that +by more than one. And at last he turned round and answered. + +“Go to, ye knaves,” he said with a red face and angrily; “if I find a +man who will save me the trouble of your wrangles every day, shall I +not do as I please?” + +Then there was a tumult of voices, and some of them seemed sad, as if a +last hope was gone, and that Havelok heard. + +“There is somewhat in this,” he said to the cook. “What pay have you +given to each man who carries for you?” + +“A yesterday’s loaf each,” answered Berthun, wondering plainly that +Havelok paid any heed to the noise. + +“Well, then, let us go on, and we will think of somewhat,” Havelok +said; and then he turned to the people, who were silent at once. + +“I am a newcomer, and a hungry one,” he said, smiling quietly, “and I +have a mind to earn my loaf well. Hinder me not for today, and +hereafter I will take my chance with the rest, if need is.” + +Thereat the folk began to laugh also, for it was plain that none had +any chance at all if he chose to put forth his strength; but an old man +said loudly, “Let the good youth alone now, and he shall talk with us +when he has done his errand and fed that great bulk of his. He has an +honest face, and will be fair to all.” + +That seemed to please the crowd; and after that they said no more, but +followed and watched the gathering up of Havelok’s mighty burden. And +presently there was more than he could manage; and he spoke to Berthun, +who checked himself in a half bow as he answered. + +Then Havelok looked over the faces before him, and beckoned to two men +who seemed weakly and could not press forward, and to them he gave the +lighter wares, and so left the market with his master, as one must call +the steward. + +“What told I you?” said the old man, as they came back from the great +gate. “Never saw I one with a face like that who harmed any man, either +in word or deed.” + +Now when Havelok had set down his load in the kitchen, he straightened +himself and said to Berthun, who was, as one may say, waiting his +pleasure. + +“This is today’s task; but it is in my mind that I would stay up here +and work.” + +“What would you do?” + +“There are men yonder who will miss the carrying if I am market porter +always. But here are things I can earn my keep at, and help the other +servants with at the same time. Water drawing there is, and carrying of +logs for the fire, and cleaving them also, and many other things that +will be but hardening my muscles, while they are over heavy to be +pleasant for other folk.” + +“Well,” answered Berthun, “that is all I could wish, and welcome to +some here will you be. Let it be so.” + +“Now, I do not think that you would make a gain by my work this +morning?” + +“Truly not, if any one is wronged by my doing so,” the puzzled steward +said. + +Then Havelok asked how many men would have been needed to carry up the +goods that he had brought, and Berthun said that he was wont to send +one at least from each stall, and more if the burden was heavy. + +“Then today four poor knaves must go dinnerless by reason of my +strength, and that does not please me altogether,” said Havelok +gravely. “Give these two their loaves; and then, I pray you, give me +the other four, and let me go back to the market.” + +And then he added, with a smile, “I think that I can order matters +there so that things will be more fair, and that you will have less +trouble with that unmannerly scramble.” + +“If you can do that, you are even as your name calls you. Take them and +welcome, Curan, and then come here and do what work you will,” Berthun +said in haste. + +“Tasks you must set me, or I shall grow idle. That is the failing of +over-big men,” Havelok said; and he took the loaves and left the palace +with the two market men at his heels. + +I saw him come back, and at once the crowd of idlers made for him, but +in a respectful way enough. I knew, however, how easily these folks +took to throwing mud and stones in their own quarrels, and I was a +little anxious, for to interfere with the ways of the market is a high +offence among them. + +But Havelok knew naught of that, and went his way with his loaves to +the bridge end, and there sat on the rail and looked at the men before +him. And _lo!_ back to my mind came old days in Denmark, and how I once +saw Gunnar the king sitting in open court to do justice, and then I +knew for certain that I was looking on his son. And when Havelok spoke +it was in the voice of Gunnar that I had long forgotten, but which came +back to me clear and plain, as if it were yesterday that I had heard +it. Never does a boy forget his first sight of the king. + +“Friends,” said Havelok, “if I do two men’s work I get two men’s pay, +or else I might want to know the reason why. But I am only one man, all +the same, and it seems right to me that none should be the loser. +Wherefore I have a mind to share my pay fairly.” + +There was a sort of shout at that and Havelok set his four loaves in a +row on the rail beside him. But then some of the rougher men went to +make a rush at them, and he took the foremost two and shook them, so +that others laughed and bade the rest beware. + +“So that is just where the trouble comes in,” said Havelok coolly; “the +strong get the first chance, as I did this morning, by reason of there +being none to see fair play.” + +“Bide in the market, master, and we will make you judge among us,” +cried a small man from the edge of the crowd. + +“Fair and softly,” Havelok answered. “I am not going to bide here +longer than I can help. Come hither, grandfer,” and he beckoned to the +old man who had bidden them wait his return, “tell me the names of the +men who have been longest without any work.” + +The old man pointed out three, and then Havelok stopped him. + +“One of these loaves is my own wage,” he said; “but you three shall +have the others, and that will be the easiest day’s work you ever did. +But think not that I am going to do the like every day, for Lincoln +hill is no easy climb, and the loaf is well earned at the top. +Moreover, it is not good to encourage the idle by working for them.” + +So the three men had their loaves, and Havelok began to eat his own +slowly, swinging his legs on the bridge rail while the men watched him. + +“Master,” said the small man from behind, pushing forward a little, now +that the crowd was looser, “make a law for the market, I pray you, that +all may have a chance.” + +“Who am I to make laws?” said my brother slowly, and, as he said this, +his hand went up to his brows as it had gone last night when the palace +had wearied him. + +“The strong make laws for the weak,” the old man said to him in a low +voice. “If the strong is honest, for the weak it is well. Things are +hard for the weak here; and therefore say somewhat, for it may be of +use.” + +“It can be none, unless the strong is at hand to see that the law is +kept.” + +“Sometimes the market will see that a rule is not broken, for itself. +There is no rule for this matter.” + +Again Havelok passed his hand over his eyes, and he was long in +answering. The loaf lay at his side now. Presently he looked straight +before him, and, as if he saw far beyond Lincoln Hill and away to the +north, he said, “This is my will, therefore, that from this time +forward it shall be the law that men shall have one among them who may +fairly and without favour so order this matter that all shall come to +Berthun the steward in turns that shall be kept, and so also with the +carrying for any other man. There shall be a company of porters, +therefore, which a man must join before he shall do this work, save +that every stranger who comes shall be suffered to take a burden once, +and then shall be told of this company, and the custom that is to be. +And I will that this old man shall see to this matter.” + +And then he stopped suddenly, and seemed to start as a great shout went +up from the men, a shout as of praise; and his eyes looked again on +them, and that wonderingly. + +“They will keep this law,” said the old man. “Well have you spoken.” + +“I have said a lot of foolishness, maybe,” answered Havelok. “For the +life of me I could not say it again.” + +“There is not one of us that could not do so,” said his adviser. “But +bide you here, master, in the town?” + +“I am in service at the palace.” + +Then the old man turned round to the others and said, “This is good +that we have heard, and it is nothing fresh, for all trades have their +companies, and why should not we? Is this stranger’s word to be kept?” + +Maybe there were one or two of the rougher men who held their peace, +for they had had more than their share of work, but from the rest came +a shout of “Ay!” as it were at the Witan. + +“Well, then,” said Havelok suddenly, getting down from his seat and +giving his loaf to the old man, “see you to it; and if any give trouble +hereafter, I shall hear from the cook, and, by Odin, I will even come +down and knock their heads together for them. So farewell.” + +He smiled round pleasantly, yet in that way which has a meaning at the +back of it; and at that every cap went off and the men did him +reverence as to a thane at least, and he nodded to them and came across +to me. + +“Come out into the fields, brother, for I shall weep if I bide here +longer.” + +So he said; and we went away quickly, while the men gathered round the +old leader who was to be, and talked earnestly. + +“This famine plays strange tricks with me,” he said when we were away +from every one. “Did you hear all that I said?” + +“I heard all, and you have spoken the best thing that could have been +said. Eight years have I been to this market, and a porters’ guild is +just what is needed. And it will come about now.” + +“It was more dreaming, and so I must be a wise man in my dream. Even as +in the palace yesterday it came on me, and I seemed to be at the gate +of a great hall, and it was someone else that was speaking, and yet +myself. It is in my mind that I told these knaves what my lordly will +was, forsooth; and the words came to me in our old Danish tongue, so +that it was hard not to use it. But it seems to me that long ago I did +these things, or saw them, I know not which, somewhere. Tell me, did +the king live in our town across the sea?” + +“No, but in another some way off. My father took me there once or +twice.” + +“Can you mind that he took me also?” + +I shook my head, and longed for Withelm. Surely I would send for him, +or for Arngeir, if this went on. Arngeir for choice, for I could tell +him what I thought; and that would only puzzle Withelm, who knew less +than I. + +“We will ask Arngeir some day,” I said; “he can remember.” + +“I suppose he did take me,” mused Havelok; “and I suppose that I want +more sleep or more food or somewhat. Now we will go and tell the old +dame of my luck, for she has lost her lodger.” + +Then he told me of his fortune with the steward. + +“Half afraid of me he seems, for he will have me do just what I will. +That will be no hard place therefore.” + +But I thought that if I knew anything of Havelok my brother, he would +be likely to make it hard by doing every one’s work for him, and that +Berthun saw this; or else that, as I had thought last night, the shrewd +courtier saw the prince behind the fisher’s garb. + +So we parted presently at the gate of the palace wall, and I went back +to the widow to wait for my arms, while he went to his master. And I +may as well tell the end of Havelok’s lawmaking. + +Berthun went down to the market next day, and came back with a wonder +to be told. And it was to Havelok that he went first to tell it, as he +was drawing bucket after bucket of water from the deep old Roman well +in the courtyard to fill the great tub which he considered a fair load +to carry at once. + +“There is something strange happening in the market,” he said, “and I +think that you have a hand in it. The decency of the place is +wonderful, and you said that you thought I might have less trouble with +the men than I was wont if you went down with the loaves. What did you? +For I went to the baker’s stalls and bought, and looked round for the +tail that is after me always; and I was alone, and all the market folk +were agape to see what was to be done. I thought that I had offended +the market by yesterday’s business, as they had called out on me, and I +thought that I should have to come and fetch your—that is, if it +pleased you. But first I called, as is my wont, for porters. Now all +that rabble sat in a row along a wall, and, by Baldur, when I looked, +they had cleaned themselves! Whereupon an old gaffer, who has carried +things once or twice for me when there has been no crowd and he has +been able to come forward, lifted up his voice and asked how many men I +wanted, so please me. + +“‘Two,’I said, wondering, and at that two got up and came to me, and I +sent them off. It was the same at the next booth, and the next, for he +told off men as I wanted them; and here am I back a full half-hour +earlier than ever before, and no mud splashes from the crowd either. It +is said that they have made a porters’ guild; and who has put that +sense into their heads unless your—that is, unless you have done so, I +cannot say.” + +Havelok laughed. + +“Well, I did tell them that they should take turns, or somewhat like +that; and I also told them that if you complained of them I would see +to it.” + +“Did you say that you would pay them, may I ask—that is, of course, if +they were orderly? For if so, I thank—” + +“I told them that if you complained I would knock their heads +together,” said Havelok. + +And that was the beginning of the Lincoln porters’ guild; and in after +days Havelok was wont to say that he would that all lawmaking was as +easy as that first trial of his. Certainly from that day forward there +was no man in all the market who would not have done aught for my +brother, and many a dispute was he called on to settle. It is not +always that a law, however good it may be, finds not a single one to +set himself against it. But then Havelok was a strong man. + +Now there is naught to tell of either Havelok or myself for a little +while, for we went on in our new places comfortably enough. One heard +much of Havelok, though, for word of him and his strength and +goodliness, and of his kindness moreover, went through the town, with +tales of what he had done. But I never heard that any dared to ask him +to make a show of himself by doing feats of strength. Only when he came +down to the guardroom sometimes with me would he take part in the +weapon play that he loved, and the housecarls, who were all tried and +good warriors, said that he was their master in the use of every +weapon, and it puzzled them to know where he had learned so well, for +he yet wore his fisher’s garb. They sent his arms with mine from +Grimsby, thinking that he also needed them; but he left them with the +widow. + +Havelok used to laugh if they asked him this, and tell them that it +came by nature, and in that saying there was more than a little truth. +So the housecarls, when they heard how Berthun was wont to treat him, +thought also that he was some great man in hiding, and that the steward +knew who he was. They did not know but that my close friendship with +him had sprung up since he came, and that was well, and Eglaf and he +and I were soon much together. The captain wanted him to leave the cook +and be one of his men, but we thought that he had better bide where he +was, rather than let Alsi the king have him always about him. For now +and then that strange feeling, as of the old days, came over him when +he was in the great hall, and he had to go away and brood over it for a +while until he would set himself some mighty task and forget it. + +But one day he came to me and said that he was sure he knew the ways of +a king too well for it all to be a dream, adding that Berthun saw that +also, and was curious about him. + +“Tell me, brother, whence came I? _Was_ I truly brought up in a court?” + +“I have never heard,” I answered. “All that I know for certain is that +you fled with us from Hodulf, the new king, and that for reasons which +my father never told me.” + +Then said Havelok, “There was naught worth telling, therefore. I +suppose I was the child of some steward like Berthun; but yet—” + +So he went away, and I wondered long if it were not time that Arngeir +should tell all that he knew. It was of no good for me to say that in +voice and ways and deed he had brought back to me the Gunnar whom I had +not seen for so many long years, for that was as likely as not to be a +fancy of mine, or if not a fancy, he might be only a sister’s son or +the like. But in all that he said there was no word of his mother, and +by that I knew that his remembrance must be but a shadow, if a growing +one. + +But there was no head in all the wide street that was not turned to +look after him; and now he went his way from me with two children, whom +he had caught up from somewhere, perched on either shoulder, and +another in his arms, and they crowed with delight as he made believe to +be some giant who was to eat them forthwith, and ran up the hill with +them. No such playmate had the Lincoln children before Havelok came. + + + + +CHAPTER X. +KING ALSI OF LINDSEY. + + +Three weeks after we came the Witan[8] began to gather, and that was a +fine sight as the great nobles of Lindsey, and of the North folk of +East Anglia, came day by day into the town with their followings, +taking up their quarters either in the better houses of the place or +else pitching bright-coloured tents and pavilions on the hillside +meadows beyond the stockades. Many brought their ladies with them, and +all day long was feasting and mirth at one place or another, as friend +met with friend. Never had I seen such a gay sight as the marketplace +was at midday, when the young thanes and their men met there and +matched their followers at all sorts of sports. The English nobles are +far more fond of gay dress and jewels than our Danish folk, though I +must say that when the few Danes of Ethelwald’s household came it would +seem that they had taken kindly to the fashion of their home. + +Our housecarls grumbled a bit for a while, for with all the newcomers +dressed span new for the gathering, we had had nothing fresh for it +from the king, as was the custom, and I for one was ashamed of myself, +for under my mail was naught but the fisher’s coat, which is good +enough for hard wear, but not for show. But one day we were fitted out +fresh by the king’s bounty in blue and scarlet jerkins and hose, and we +swaggered after that with the best, as one may suppose. + +Berthun had the ordering of that business, and he came and sat with +Eglaf in the gatehouse and talked of it. + +“Pity that you do not put your man Curan into decent gear,” the captain +said. “That old sailcloth rig does not do either him or you or the +court credit.” + +“That is what I would do,” said the steward, “but he will not take +aught but the food that he calls his hire. He is a strange man +altogether, and I think that he is not what he seems.” + +“So you have told me many times, and I think with you. He will be some +crack-brained Welsh princeling who has been crossed in love, and so has +taken some vow on him, as the King Arthur that they prate of taught +them to do. Well, if he is such, it is an easy matter to make him +clothe himself decently. It is only to tell him that the clothes are +from the king, and no man who has been well brought up may refuse such +a gift.” + +“But suppose that he thanks the king for the gift. Both he and the king +will be wroth with me.” + +“Not Curan, when he has once got the things on; and as for >Alsi, he +will take the thanks to himself, and chuckle to think that the mistake +has gained him credit for a good deed that he never did.” + +“Hush, comrade, hush!” said Berthun quickly; “naught but good of the +king!” + +“I said naught ill. But if Woden or Frey, or whoever looks after good +deeds, scores the mistake to Alsi as well, it will be the first on the +count of charity that—” + +But at this Berthun rose up in stately wise. + +“I may not listen to this. To think that here in the guardroom I should +hear such—” + +“Sit down, comrade,” said Eglaf, laughing, and pulling the steward into +his seat again. “Well you know that I would be cut to pieces for the +king tomorrow if need were, and so I earn free speech of him I guard. +If I may not say what I think of him to a man who knows as much of him +as I, who may?” + +“I have no doubt that the king would clothe Curan if I asked him,” said +Berthun stiffly, but noways loth to take his seat again. + +“But it is as much as your place is worth to do it. I know what you +would say.” + +Berthun laughed. + +“I will do it myself, and if Alsi does get the credit, what matter?” + +Wherefore it came to pass that as I was on guard at the gate leading to +the town next day I saw a most noble-looking man coming towards me, and +I looked a second time, for I thought him one of the noblest of all the +thanes who had yet come, and the second look told me that it was +Havelok in this new array. I will say that honest Berthun had done his +part well; and if the king was supposed to be the giver, he had nothing +to complain of. Eglaf had told me of the way in which the dressing of +Havelok was to be done. + +“Ho!” said I, “I thought you some newcomer.” + +“I hardly know myself,” he answered, “and I am not going to grumble at +the change, seeing that this is holiday time. Berthun came to me last +evening, and called me aside, and said that it was the king’s wont to +dress his folk anew at the time of the Witan, and then wanted to know +if my vow prevented me from wearing aught but fisher’s clothes. And +when I said that if new clothes went as wage for service about the +place I was glad to hear it, he was pleased, as if it had been likely +that I would refuse a good offer. So the tailor went to work on me, and +hence this finery. But you are as fine, and this is more than we +counted on when we left Grimsby. I suppose it is all in honour of the +lady of the North folk, Goldberga.” + +“Maybe, for I have heard that she is to come.” + +“To be fetched rather, if one is to believe all that one hears. They +say that Alsi has kept her almost as a captive in Dover, having given +her into the charge of some friend of his there, that she may be far +from her own kingdom and people. Now the Norfolk Witan has made him +bring her here. Berthun seems to think there will be trouble.” + +“Only because Alsi will not want to let the kingdom go from his hand to +her. But that will not matter. He is bound by the old promise to her +father.” + +Now we were talking to one another in broad Danish, there being none +near to hear us. We had always used it among ourselves at Grimsby, for +my father loved his old tongue. But at that moment there rode up to the +gate a splendid horseman, young and handsome, and with great gold +bracelets on his arms, one or two of which caught my eye at once, for +they were of the old Danish patterns, and just such as Jarl Sigurd used +to wear. But if I was quick to notice these tokens of the old land, he +had been yet quicker, for he reined up before I stayed him, as was my +duty if he would pass through this gate to the palace, so that I might +know his authority. + +“If I am not mistaken,” he said in our own tongue, “I heard you two +talking in the way I love best. Skoal, therefore, to the first Northman +I have met between here and London town, for it is good to hear a +friendly voice.” + +“Skoal to the jarl!” I answered, and I gave the salute of Sigurd’s +courtmen, which came into my mind on the moment with the familiar +greeting of long years ago. And “Skoal,” said Havelok. + +“Jarl! How know you that I am that?” + +“By the jarl’s bracelet that you wear, surely.” + +“So you are a real Dane—not an English-bred one like myself. That is +good. You and I will have many a talk together. Odin, how good it is to +meet a housecarl who speaks as man to man and does not cringe to me! +Who are you?” + +“Radbard Grimsson of Grimsby, housecarl just now to this King of +Lindsey.” + +“And your comrade?” + +I was about to tell this friendly countryman Havelok’s name without +thought, but stopped in time. Of all the things I had been brought up +to dread most for him, that an English Dane should find him out was the +worst, so I said, “He is called Curan, and he is a Lindsey marshman.” + +“Who can talk Danish though his name is Welsh. That is strange. Well, +you are right about me. I am Ragnar of Norwich, the earl, as the +English for jarl goes. Now I want to see Alsi the king straightway.” + +“That is a matter for the captain,” I said, and I called for him. + +Eglaf came out and made a deep reverence when he saw the earl, knowing +at once who he was, and as this was just what the earl had said that he +did not like, he looked quaintly at me across Eglaf’s broad bent back, +so that I had to grin perforce. + +All unknowing of which the captain heard the earl’s business, and then +told me to see him to the palace gates, and take his horse to the +stables when he had dismounted and was in the hands of Berthun. + +So I went, and Havelok turned away and went on some errand down the +steep street. + +This Ragnar was one of whom I had often heard, for he was the governor +of all the North folk for Alsi until the Lady Goldberga should take her +place. He was her cousin, being the son of Ethelwald’s sister, who was +of course a Dane. Danish, and from the old country, was his father +also, being one of the men who had come over to the court of East +Anglia when Ethelwald was made king. + +All the way to the door we talked of Denmark, but it was not far. There +Berthun came out and greeted the earl in court fashion, and I thought +that I was done with, because the grooms had run to take the great bay +horse as they heard the trampling. But, as it happened, I was wanted. + +Ragnar went in, saying to me that he would find me out again presently; +and I saw him walk across the great hall to the hearth, and stand there +while Berthun went to the king’s presence to tell him of the new +arrival. Then I stood for a minute to look at the horse, for the grooms +had had no orders to take him away; and mindful of Eglaf’s word to me, +I was going to tell them to do so, and to see it done, when Berthun +came hurriedly and called me. + +“Master Housecarl,” he said rather breathlessly, “by the king’s order +you are to come within the hall and guard the doorway.” + +I shouldered my spear and followed him, and as we were out of hearing +of the grooms I said that the captain had ordered me to take the horse +to the stables. + +“I will see to that,” he said. “Now you are to bide at the door while +the king speaks with Earl Ragnar, for there will be none else present. +Let no one pass in without the king’s leave.” + +We passed through the great door as he said that, and he closed it +after him. Ragnar was yet standing near the high seat, and turned as he +heard the sound, and smiled when he saw me. Berthun went quickly away +through a side entrance, and the hail was empty save for us two. The +midday meal was over an hour since, and the long tables had been +cleared away, so that the place seemed desolate to me, as I had only +seen it before when I sat with the other men at the cross tables for +meals. It was not so good a hall as was Jarl Sigurd’s in Denmark, for +it was not rich with carving and colour as was his, and the arms on the +wall were few, and the hangings might have been brighter and better in +a king’s place. + +“Our king does not seem to keep much state,” Ragnar said, looking round +as I was looking, and we both laughed. + +Then the door on the high place opened, and the king came in, soberly +dressed, and with a smile on his face which seemed to me to have been +made on purpose for this greeting, for he mostly looked sour enough. +Nor did it seem that his eyes had any pleasure in them. + +“Welcome, kinsman,” he said, seeming hearty enough, however; “I had +looked for you before this. What news from our good town of Norwich?” + +He held out his hand to Ragnar, who took it frankly, and his strong +grip twisted the king’s set smile into a grin of pain for a moment. + +“All was well there three weeks ago when I left there to go to London. +Now, I have ridden on to say that the Lady Goldberga is not far hence, +so that her coming may be prepared for.” + +Now, as the earl said this, the king’s smile went from his face, and +black enough he looked for a moment. The look passed quickly, and the +smile came back, but it seemed hard to keep it up. + +“Why, that is well,” he said; “so you fell in with her on the way.” + +“I have attended her from London,” answered the earl, looking +steadfastly at Alsi, “and it was as well that I did so, as it +happened.” + +“What has been amiss?” asked the king sharply, and trying to look +troubled. He let the smile go now altogether. + +“Your henchman, Griffin the Welshman, had no guard with her that was +fitting for our princess,” Ragnar said. “He had but twenty men, and +these not of the best. It is in my mind also that I should have been +told of this journey, for I am surely the right man to have guarded my +queen who is to be.” + +At that Alsi’s face went ashy pale, and I did not rightly know why at +the time, but it seemed more in anger than aught else. But he had to +make some answer. + +“We sent a messenger to you,” he said hastily; “I cannot tell why he +did not reach you.” + +“He must have come too late, and after I had heard of this from others; +so I had already gone to meet the princess. I am glad that I was sent +for, and it may pass. Well, it is lucky that I was in time, for we were +attacked on the road, and but for my men there would have been +trouble.” + +Then Alsi broke into wrath, which was real enough. + +“This passes all. Where and by whom were you attacked? and why should +any fall on the party?” + +“Five miles on the other side of Ancaster town, where the Ermin Street +runs among woods, we were fallen on, but who the men were I cannot say. +Why they should fall on us seems plain enough, seeing that the ransom +of a princess is likely to be a great sum.” + +“Was it a sharp fight?” + +“It was not,” answered Ragnar, “for it seemed to me that the men looked +only to find your Welsh thane Griffin and his men. When they saw my +Norfolk housecarls, they waited no longer, and we only rode down one or +two of them. But I have somewhat against this Griffin, for he helped me +not at all. Until this day he and his men had ridden fairly with us, +but by the time this attack came they were half a mile behind us.” + +“Do you mean to say that you think Griffin in league with +these—outlaws, as one may suppose them?” said Alsi, with wrath and more +else written in twitching mouth and crafty eyes. + +“I would not have said that,” Ragnar answered, looking in some surprise +at the king, “it had never come into my head. But I will say that as +the Ermin Street is straight as an arrow, and he was in full sight of +us, he might have spurred his horses to our help, whereas he never +quickened his pace till he saw that the outlaws, or whoever they were, +had gone. I put this as a complaint to you.” + +“These men seem to have scared you, at least,” sneered the king. + +Ragnar flushed deeply. + +“For the princess—yes. It is not fitting that a man who is in charge of +so precious a lady should hold back in danger, even of the least +seeming, as did Griffin. And I told him so.” + +Now I thought that Alsi would have been as angry with Griffin as was +the earl, and that he would add that he also would speak his mind to +him, hut instead of that he went off in another way. + +“It was a pity that a pleasant journey with a fair companion was thus +broken in upon. But it was doubtless pleasant that the lady should see +that her kinsman was not unwilling to draw sword for her. A pretty +little jest this, got up between Griffin and yourself, and such as a +young man may be forgiven for playing. I shall hear Goldberga complain +of honest Griffin presently, and now I shall know how to answer her. +Ay, I will promise him the like talking to that you gave him, and then +we three will laugh over it all together.” + +And with that the king broke into a cackle of laughter, catching hold +of the earl’s arm in his glee. And I never saw any man look so +altogether bewildered as did Ragnar. + +“Little jest was there in the matter, lord king, let me tell you,” he +said, trying to draw his arm away. + +“Nay, I am not angry with you, kinsman; indeed, I am not. We have been +young and eager that bright eyes should see our valour ourselves ere +now,” and he shook his finger at the earl gaily. “I only wonder that +you induced that fiery Welshman to take a rating in the hearing of the +princess quietly.” + +“What I had to say to him I said apart. I will not say that he did take +it quietly.” + +“Meaning—that you had a good laugh over it;” and Alsi shook the earl’s +arm as in glee. “There now, you have made a clean breast, and I am not +one to spoil sport. Go and meet Goldberga at the gates, and bring her +to me in state, and you shall be lodged here, if you will. Quite right +of you to tell me this, or Griffin would have been in trouble. But I +must not have the lady scared again, mind you.” + +He turned quickly away, then, with a sort of stifled laugh, as if he +wanted to get away to enjoy a good jest, and left Ragnar staring +speechless at him as he crossed the high place and went through the +private door. + +Then the earl turned to me, “By Loki, fellow countryman, there is +somewhat wrong here. What does he mean by feigning to think the whole +affair a jest? It won’t be much of a jest if Griffin and I slay one +another tomorrow, as we mean to do, because of what was not done, and +what was said about it.” + +“It has seemed to me, jarl,” I said plainly, “that all this is more +like a jest between the king and Griffin.” + +“Call it a jest, as that is loyal, at least. But I think that you are +right. If Goldberga had been carried off—Come, we shall be saying too +much in these walls.” + +I had only been told to wait while the king and earl spoke together, +and so I opened the door and followed him out. The horse was yet there +waiting for him, and it was plain that the king had not meant him to +stay. + +“Bid the grooms lead the horse after us, and we will go to your +captain. Then you shall take me to one of my friends, for you will know +where their houses are.” + +But at that moment a man from the palace ran after us, bringing an +order from the king that I was to go back to him. So Ragnar bade me +farewell. + +“Come to me tonight at the gatehouse,” he said. “I will speak to the +captain to let you off duty.” + +“Say nothing to him, jarl, for it is needless. I am only with him for a +time, and am my own master. I have no turn on watch tonight, and so am +free.” + +So I went back, and found the king in the hall again, and he was still +smiling. If he had looked me straight in the face, I suppose that he +might have seen that I was not a man to whom he was used, but he did +not. He seemed not to wish to do so. + +“So, good fellow,” he said, “you have heard a pleasant jest of our +young kinsman’s contriving, but I will that you say nothing of it. It +is a pity to take a good guardroom story from you, however, without +some recompense, and therefore—” + +With that he put a little bag into my hand, and it was heavy. I said +nothing, but bowed in the English way, and he went on, “You understand; +no word is to be said of what you have heard unless I bid you repeat +it. That I may have to do, lest it is said that Griffin the thane is +‘nidring’[9] by any of his enemies. You know all the story—how the earl +and he planned a sham attack on the princess’s party, that Ragnar might +show his valour, which, of course, he could not do if Griffin was +there. Therefore the thane held back. But maybe you heard all, and +understood it.” + +“I heard all, lord king, and I will say naught.” + +The king waved his hand in sign that I was dismissed, and I bowed and +went. There were five rings of gold in the bag, worth about the whole +year’s wage of a courtman, and I thought that for keeping a jest to +myself that was good pay indeed. There must be more behind that +business, as it had seemed to me already. + +Now, as I crossed the green within the old walls on my way to the gate, +it happened that Havelok came back from the town, and as he came I +heard him whistling softly to himself a strange wild call, as it were, +of a hunting horn, very sweet, and one that I had never heard before. + +“Ho, brother!” I said, for there was no one near us. “What is that call +you are whistling?” + +He started and looked up at me suddenly, and I saw that his trouble was +on him again. + +“In my dream,” he said slowly, “there is a man on a great horse, and he +wears such bracelets as Ragnar of Norwich, and he winds his horn with +that call, and I run to him; and then I myself am on the horse, and I +go to the stables, and after that there is nothing but the call that I +hear. Now it has gone again.” + +And his hand went up in the way that made me sad to see. + +“It will come back by-and-by. Trouble not about it.” + +“I would that we were back in Grimsby,” he said, with a great sigh. +“This is a place of shadows. Ghosts are these of days that I think can +never have been.” + +“Well,” said I, wanting to take him out of himself, “this is no ghost, +at all events. I would that one of our brothers would come from home +that I might send it to them in Grimsby. We do not need it.” + +So I showed him the gold, and he wondered at it, and laughed, saying +that the housecarls had the best place after all. And so he went on, +and I back to the gate. + +Surely he minded at last the days when Gunnar his father had ridden +home to the gate, as the Danish earl had ridden even now, and had +called his son to him with that call. It was all coming back, as one +thing or another brought it to his mind; and I wondered what should be +when he knew that the dream was the truth. For what should Havelok, +foster-son of the fisher, do against a king who for twelve long years +had held his throne? And who in all the old land would believe that he +was indeed the son of the lost king? Better, it seemed to me, that this +had not happened, and that he had been yet the happy, careless, +well-loved son of Grim, with no thought of aught higher than the good +of the folk he knew. + +When I got back to the gate, we were marched down the town, that we +might be ready to receive the princess; and as I went through the +market, I saw one of the porters whom I knew, and I beckoned to him, so +that he came alongside me in the ranks, and I asked him if he would go +to Grimsby for me for a silver penny. He would do it gladly; and so I +sent him with word to Arngeir that I needed one of them here to take a +gift that I had for them. I would meet whoever came at the widow’s +house, and I set a time when I would look for them. I thought it was +well that the king’s gold should not be wasted, even for a day’s use, +if I could help it. And I wearied to see one of the brothers, and hear +all that was going on. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. +THE COMING OF THE PRINCESS. + + +There is no need for me to tell aught of the entry of the Lady +Goldberga into the town, for anyone may know how the people cheered +her, and how the party were met by the Norfolk thanes and many others, +and so rode on up the hill to the palace. What the princess was like I +hardly noticed at that time, for she was closely hooded, and her +maidens were round her. And I had something else to think of; for +foremost, and richly dressed, with a gold chain round his neck, rode a +man whose strange way of carrying his head caught my eye at once, so +that I looked more than a second time at him. + +And at last I knew him. It was that man of ours whose neck had been +twisted by the way in which he had been hauled on board at the time of +the wreck, and had afterwards gone to Ethelwald’s court. One would say +that this Mord had prospered exceedingly, for he was plainly a man of +some consequence in the princess’s household. He did not know me, +though it happened that he looked right at me for a moment; but I did +not expect him to do so after twelve years, seeing that I was but a boy +when we parted. I thought that I would seek him presently. + +Then I saw Griffin, the Welsh thane, and I did not like the looks of +him at all. He was a black-haired man, clean shaven, so that the cruel +thinness of his lips was not hidden, and his black eyes were restless, +and never stayed anywhere, unless he looked at Ragnar for a moment, and +then that was a look of deadly hatred. He wore his armour well, and had +a steady seat on his horse; but, if all that I had heard of him was +true, his looks did not belie him. Men had much to say of him here, +for, being some far-off kin to Alsi’s Welsh mother, he was always about +the court, and was hated. He had gone to Dover to fetch the princess +before we came here, but it happened that I had once or twice seen him +at other times when I was in Lincoln, so that I knew him now. + +There was great feasting that night in the king’s hall, as one may +suppose, and I sat with the housecarls at the cross tables beyond the +fire, and I could see the Lady Goldberga at Alsi’s side. Tired she was +with her long journey, and she did not remain long at the table; but I +had never seen so wondrously beautiful a lady. Griffin sat next to her +on the king’s right hand, for Ragnar was at the king’s left, in the +seat of next honour; and I saw that the lady had no love for the Welsh +thane. But I also thought that I saw how he would give his all for a +kindly glance from her; and if, as Alsi had seemed to hint, Ragnar was +a favoured lover, I did not wonder that Griffin had been ready to do +him a bad turn. I had rather that the thane was my friend than my foe, +for he would be no open enemy. + +I left the feast when the first change of guard went out, for I saw +that the ale cup was passing faster than we Danes think fitting, being +less given to it than the English. And when the guard was set I waited +alone in the guardroom of the old gate, for Eglaf was yet at the hall, +and would be there all night maybe. And presently Earl Ragnar came in +and sat down with me. + +He was silent for a while, and I waited for him to speak, until he +looked up at me with a little laugh, and said, “I told you that I had +to fight Griffin tomorrow?” + +“You did, earl. Is that matter settled otherwise?” + +“Not at all,” he answered. “I believe now that he was acting under +orders, but I have said things to him which he cannot pass over. I +called him ‘nidring’ to his face, and that I still mean; for though I +thought of cowardice at the time, he is none the less so if he has +plotted against the princess. So naught but the sword will end the +feud.” + +He pondered for some moments, and then went on, “It is a bad business; +for if I slay Griffin, he is the king’s favourite; and if he slays me, +the Norfolk thanes will have somewhat to say. And all is bad for the +Lady Goldberga, who needs all the friends that she has, for in either +case there will be trouble between the two kingdoms that Alsi holds +just now.” + +“If Griffin is slain,” I said, “I think that the lady has one trouble +out of the way.” + +“Ay; and the king will make out, as you heard him do even now, that I +am looking that way myself. It is not so, for I will say to you at once +that to me there is but one lady in all the world, and she is in +Norfolk at this time. Now I am going to ask you something that is a +favour.” + +I thought that he would give me some message for this lady, in case he +fell; but he had more to ask than that. Nothing more or less than that +I should be his second in the fight, because I was a fellow countryman, +while to ask an East Anglian thane would he to make things harder yet +for Goldberga. + +“I am no thane, earl,” I said plainly. “This is an honour that is over +high for me.” + +“It seems that you own a town, for I asked Eglaf just now,” he +answered; “and that is enough surely to give you thane’s rank in a +matter like this. But that is neither here nor there; it is as Dane to +Dane that I ask you. If I could find another of us I would ask him +also, that you might not have to stand alone. I am asking you to break +the law that bids the keeping of the peace at the time of the meeting +of the Witan.” + +“That is no matter,” I said. “If I have to fly, it will be with you as +victor; and if it is but a matter of a fine, I have had that from the +king today which will surely pay it.” + +And I told him of the gift for silence, whereat he laughed heartily, +and then said that the secret was more worth than he thought. This +looked very bad, and like proof that the king was at the bottom of the +whole business. + +Now I had been thinking, and it seemed better that there should be two +witnesses of the fight on our side, and I thought that Havelok was the +man who would make the second. So I told Ragnar that I could find +another Dane who was at least as worthy as I, and he was well pleased. +Then he told me where the meeting was to be, and where we should meet +him just before daylight; and so he went back to the hall, where the +lights were yet burning redly, and the songs were wilder than ever. + +And I found Havelok, and told him of the fight that was to be, and +asked him to come with us. His arms were at the widow’s, and he could +get them without any noticing him. + +There is no need to say that he was ready as I to help Ragnar, and so +we spoke of time and place, and parted for the night. + +Very early came Havelok to the house, for I lodged at the widow’s when +I was not on night duty; and we armed ourselves, and then came Ragnar. +He greeted me first, and then looked at Havelok in amaze, as it seemed, +and then bowed a little, and asked me to make my friend known to him. + +“If you are the friend of whom Radbard has told me, I think that I am +fortunate in having come to him.” + +“I am his brother, lord earl,” answered Havelok, “and I am at your +service.” + +Ragnar looked from one of us to the other, and then smiled. + +“A brother Dane and a brother in arms, truly,” he said. “Well, that is +all that I need ask, except your name, as I am to be another brother of +the same sort.” + +Then Havelok looked at me, and I nodded. I knew what he meant; but it +was not right that the earl should not know who he was. + +“Men call me Curan here, lord earl, and that I must be to you +hereafter. But I am Havelok of Grimsby, son of Grim.” + +In a moment I saw that the earl knew more of that name than I had +deemed possible; and then I minded Mord, the wry-necked, who was the +chamberlain now. But Ragnar said nothing beyond that he would remember +the request, and that he was well seconded. And then we went out into +the grey morning, and without recrossing the bridge, away to the level +meadows on the south of the river, far from any roadway. + +“There is not an island in the stream,” said Ragnar, “or I should have +wanted the old northern holmgang battle. I doubt if we could even get +these Welshmen to peg out the lists.” + +“That we must see to,” I said. “We will have all things fair in some +way.” + +Half a mile from the town we came to what they call a carr—a woody rise +in the level marsh—and on the skirts of this two men waited us. They +were the seconds of Griffin, Welsh or half Welsh both of them by their +looks, and both were well armed. Their greeting was courteous enough, +and they led us by a little track into the heart of the thickets, and +there was a wide and level clearing, most fit for a fight, in which +waited Griffin himself. + +Now I had never taken any part in a fight before, and I did not rightly +know what I had to do to begin with. However, one of the other side +seemed to be well up in the matter, and at once he came to me and +Havelok and took us aside. + +“Here is a little trouble,” he said: “our men have said nothing of what +weapons they will use.” + +“I take it,” said Havelok at once, “that they meant to use those which +were most handy to them, therefore.” + +The Welshman stared, and answered rather stiffly, “This is not a matter +of chance medley, young sir, but an ordered affair. But doubtless this +is the first time you have been in this case, and do not know the +rules. Let me tell you, therefore, that your earl, being the challenged +man, has choice of weapons. + +“Why, then,” answered Havelok, “it seems to me that if we say as I have +already said, it is fair on our part. For it is certain that the earl +will want to use the axe, and your man is about half his weight, so +that would be uneven.” + +“As the challenged man, the earl is entitled to any advantage in +weapons.” + +“He needs none. Let us fight fairly or not at all. The earl takes the +axe.—What say you, Radbard? Griffin takes what he likes.” + +“You keep to the axe after all, and yet say that it gives an +advantage.” + +“Axe against axe it does, but if your man chooses to take a twenty-foot +spear and keep out of its way, we do not object. We give him his own +choice.” + +Then the other second said frankly, “This is generous, Cadwal. No more +need be said. But this young thane has not yet asked his earl whether +it will suit him.” + +“Faith, no,” said Havelok, laughing; “I was thinking what I should like +myself, and nothing at all of the earl.” + +So I went across to Ragnar, who was waiting patiently at one end of the +clearing, while Griffin was pacing with uneven steps backward and +forward at the other, and I told him what the question was. + +“I thought it would be a matter of swords,” he said, “but I am Dane +enough to like the axe best. Settle it as you will. Of course he knows +naught of axe play, so that you are right in not pressing it on him. He +is a light man, and active, and maybe will be glad not even to try +sword to sword; for look at the sort of bodkin he is wearing.” + +The earl and we had the northern long sword, of course; but when I +looked I saw that the Welsh had short, straight, and heavy weapons of +about half the length of ours, and so even sword to sword seemed hard +on the lighter man; wherein I was wrong, as I had yet to learn. + +I went back, therefore, and told the others. + +“The earl takes the axe, and the thane has his choice, as we have +said.” + +“We have to thank you,” said the other second, while Cadwal only +laughed a short laugh, and bade us choose the ground with them. + +There was no difficulty about that, for the light was clear and bright, +and though the sun was up, the trees bid any bright rays that might be +in the eyes of the fighters. However, we set them across the light, so +that all there was might be even; and then we agreed that if one was +forced back to the edge of the clearing he was to be held beaten, as if +we had been on an island. It was nearly as good, for the shore of trees +and brushwood was very plain and sharp. + +Now Ragnar unslung his round shield from his shoulders, and took his +axe from me, for I had carried it for him, and his face was quiet and +steady, as the face of one should be who has a deed to do that must be +seen through to the end. But Griffin and his men talked quickly in +their own tongue, and I had to tell them that we understood it well +enough. Then they looked at each other, and were silent suddenly. I +wondered what they, were about to say, for it seemed that my warning +came just in time for them. + +Griffin took a shield from the thane they called Cadwal, and it was +square—a shape that I had not seen before in use, though Witlaf had one +like it on the wall at Stallingborough. He said that it had been won +from a chief by his forefathers when the English first came into the +land, and that it was the old Roman shape. It seemed unhandy to me, but +I had no time to think of it for a moment, for now Cadwal had a last +question. + +“Is this fight to be to the death?” + +“No,” I answered; “else were the rule we made about the boundary of no +use.” + +Then Griffin cried in a sort of choked voice, “It shall be to the +death.” + +But I said nothing, and the other second, with Cadwal, shook his head. + +Ragnar made no sign, but Cadwal said to Havelok, “You were foremost in +the matter just now. What say you?” + +“Rules are rules, and what my comrade says is right. If the first blow +slays, we cannot help it, but there shall be no second wound. The man +who is first struck is defeated.” + +“I will not have it so,” said Griffin. + +“Well, then, thane, after you have wounded the earl you will have to +reckon with me, if you must slay someone.” + +Griffin looked at the towering form of my brother and made no answer, +and the other second told him that it was right. There was naught but +an angry word or two to be atoned for. So there was an end, and Ragnar +went on guard. Griffin made ready also, and at once it was plain that +here was no uneven match after all. + +Both of them wore ring mail of the best. We had set the two six paces +apart, and they must step forward to get within striking distance. At +once Griffin seemed to grow smaller, for he crouched down as a cat that +is going to spring, and raised his shield before him, so that from +where I stood behind Ragnar I could only see his black glittering eyes +and round helm above its edge. And his right arm was drawn back, so +that only the point of his heavy leaf-bladed sword was to be seen +glancing from the right edge steadily. And now his eyes were steady as +the sword point, which was no brighter than they. If once he got inside +the sweep of the great axe it would be bad for Ragnar. + +One step forward went the earl, shield up and axe balanced, but Griffin +never moved. Then Ragnar leapt forward and struck out, but I could see +that it was a feint, and he recovered at once. Griffin’s shield had +gone up in a moment above his head, and in a moment it was back in its +place, and over it his eyes glared as before, unwavering. And then, +like a wildcat, he sprang at Ragnar, making no sweeping blow with his +sword, but thrusting with straight arm, so that the whole weight of his +flying body was behind the point. Ragnar struck out, but the square +shield was overhead to stay the blow, and full on the round Danish +buckler the point of the short sword rang, for the earl was ready to +meet it. + +In a moment the Welshman was back in his crouching guard, leaving a +great ragged hole in the shield whence he had wrenched his weapon point +in a way that told of a wrist turn that had been long practised. Ragnar +had needed no leech, had his quick eye not saved him from that thrust. + +Then for a breathing space the two watched each other, while we held +our breath, motionless. And then Griffin slowly began to circle round +his foe, still crouching. + +Then, like a thunderbolt, Ragnar’s axe swept down on the thane, and +neither shield nor helm would have been of avail had that blow gone +home. Back leapt Griffin, and the axe shore the edge only of his +shield; and then, shield aloft and point foremost, he flew on the earl +before the axe had recovered from its swing, and I surely thought that +the end had come, for the earl’s shield was lowered, and his face was +unguarded. + +But that was what he looked for. Up and forward flew the round shield, +catching the thane’s straightened arm along its whole length, and then, +as sword and arm were dashed upwards, smiting him fairly in the face; +and, like a stone, the Welshman was hurled from it, and fell backward +in a heap on the grass three paces away. It seemed to me that he was +off his feet in his spring as the shield smote him. + +There he lay, and Havelok strode forward and stood between the two, +with his face to Griffin, for Ragnar had dropped his axe to rest when +his foe fell. + +“No blood drawn,” said my brother, “but no more fighting can there be. +The man’s arm is out.” + +And so it was, for the mighty heave that turned the thrust had ended +Griffin’s fighting for a long day. But he did not think so. + +The sweat was standing on his face in great beads from the pain, but he +got up and shifted his sword to his left hand. + +“It is to the death,” he cried; “I can fight as well with the left. +Stand aside.” + +“An it had been so, you were a dead man now,” said Havelok, “for the +earl held his hand where he might have slain. If he had chosen, you +might have felt his axe before you touched the ground.” + +Thereat, without warning other than a snarl of “Your own saying,” +Griffin leapt at my brother fiercely, only to meet a swing of his axe +that sent his sword flying from his hand. And that was deft of Havelok, +for there is nothing more hard to meet than a left-handed attack at any +time, and this seemed unlooked for. + +“Well, I did say somewhat of this sort,” said Havelok; “but it was +lucky that I had not forgotten it.” + +Then he took the thane by the waist and left arm and set him down +gently; and after that all the fury went from him, and he grew pale +with the pain of the arm that was hurt. But both I and the Welshmen had +shouted to Griffin to hold, all uselessly, so quick had been his onset +on his new foe. + +Cadwal held his peace, biting his lip, but the other Welshman began to +blame Griffin loudly for this. + +“Nay,” said Havelok, smiling; “it was my own fault maybe. The thane was +overhasty certainly, but one does not think with pain gnawing at one. +Let that pass. + +“Now, earl, I think that you may say what you have to say that will set +things right once more.” + +“Can none of us put the arm back first?” I said. “I will try, if none +else has done such a thing before, for it will not be the first time.” + +“Put it back, if you can,” said Cadwal. “If there is anything to be +said, it had better be in some sort of comfort.” + +So I put the arm back, for when once the trick is learned there is not, +as a rule, much trouble. But Griffin never thanked me. He left that to +his seconds, who did so well enough. + +Then Ragnar came forward and said gravely, “I was wrong when I called +you ‘nidring,’ and I take back the word and ask you to forget it. No +man who is that will face the Danish axe as you have faced it, and I +will say that the British sword is a thing to be feared.” + +But Griffin made no answer, and when Ragnar held out his hand he would +not see it. + +“Maybe I have not yet made amends,” Ragnar went on. “I will add, +therefore, as I know that my words will go no farther, that I am sure +that the thing concerning which we quarrelled yesterday was done by you +at the orders of another. It was not your own doing, and no thought of +cowardice is in my mind now.” + +But Griffin never answered; and now he turned his back on the earl, who +was plainly grieved, and said no more to him, but turned to us and the +two Welshmen. + +“I do not think that I can say more. If there is aught that is needed, +tell me. We have fought a fair fight, and I have taken back the words +that caused it.” + +Then said Cadwal, “No more is needed. I did not think that we had met +with so generous a foe. If Griffin will say naught, we say this for +him. He has no cause for enmity left. And I say also that he has to +thank this thane for his life as well as the earl.” + +“No thane am I,” said Havelok, “but only Havelok Grimsson of Grimsby. +And even that name is set aside for a while, so that I must ask you to +forget it. I have seen a good fight, if a short one, and one could not +smite a wounded man who forgot himself for a moment.” + +There was nothing more to be had from Griffin, for we waited a minute +or two in silence to see if he would speak, and then we saluted and +left the wood. + +The last thing that I saw seemed to be a matter of high words between +Griffin and his seconds; and, indeed, if they were telling him what +they thought, it is likely that he wished he had been more courteous. +It is easy enough for a man who wants a quarrel to have done with one +and then start another. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. +IN LINCOLN MARKETPLACE. + + +We went quietly back to the town, and there was only one thing that I +wished, and that was that Havelok had not had to tell his name twice. +Ragnar was full of thanks to us for our help, and said that he would +that we would come to Norfolk with him. + +“We have a man who knows you also,” he said, “but he has been with our +princess for a long time now. He is called Mord, and is her +chamberlain. He has often told me how he came by his wry-neck at the +time of your shipwreck.” + +So he said, and looked at Havelok. But this was a thing that he had not +seen, as he was so sick at the time. I said that I remembered Mord +well, and would seek him some time in the day. + +And as I said this I was thinking that I must find out from Mord +whether he knew and had told more than I could of who Havelok was and +whence he came to us. It seemed to me that the earl had heard some tale +or other, and unless it was from him I could not think from whence. + +Now the earl said, “This business has ended better than I could have +hoped, and I think that Alsi will not hear of it. Griffin can well +account for a slipped shoulder by any sort of fall that he likes to own +to, and Alsi would be hardly pleased to hear that he had run the risk +of setting all Norfolk against him for nothing after all.” + +“There is no doubt that he meant you to know that he does not consider +the quarrel done with,” I said. “You have an enemy there.” + +“Nothing new, that,” answered Ragnar, laughing. “He thinks that I stand +in his way with the princess. I suppose it is common talk that if he +wedded her Alsi would still hold the East Anglian kingdom, making him +ealdorman, if only I were out of the way. But were I to wed the lady, +then it is certain that she would take the crown at once. I do not mean +to do so, for then it is likely that three people would be unhappy for +the rest of their days. But that would be less wretched for her than to +wed Griffin.” + +“This is no pleasant strait for the poor lady,” said Havelok grimly. +“Do none ask what she herself can wish?” + +“That is the trouble,” said the earl, “for she is in Alsi’s hand, and +there is some old promise and oath sworn between him and Ethelwald her +father that holds him back. Else had she been wedded to Griffin before +now.” + +Then we came to the widow’s house, and Havelok left his arms there, and +we went on to the marketplace. As we crossed the bridge we saw that +there was something going forward, for there was a gathering in the +wide space, and a shouting and cheering now and then, and even Berthun +himself was there looking on and seeming to be highly entertained. + +“Here is a crowd that I will not face just now, in my arms,” said the +earl; “for this hole in my shield looks bad, not having been there when +I went out. Farewell for the time, therefore, and think of what I said +about your coming to Norwich with me.” + +He turned away therefore, and Havelok looked after him for a moment. +The shield hung at his back, plain to be seen. + +“It is a hole, for certain,” he said; “but there is no need to show it +in that wise.” + +So he strode after him. + +“By your leave, earl, I will arrange your cloak across the shield, and +then you can get it to your armourer without notice.” + +“That is well thought of,” answered Ragnar, as Havelok did as he had +said. “I do not forget that I think that I owe you my life, though I +have said nothing as yet.” + +“How is that?” + +“Griffin would have flown on me as he did on you, certainly; and it is +in my mind that you foresaw it, which I did not. I could not have +stayed him.” + +“Well I did,” answered my brother; “else had either I or you a hole in +us like the one that is well covered now. But I feared what came to +pass.” + +Ragnar held out his hand, and Havelok took it, and so they parted +without more words; but I knew that these two were friends from that +time forward, whatever happened. + +There were some sports of some sort on hand, when we came to see what +all the noise was; and Berthun, seeing us, called Havelok to him. + +“I have been looking for you,” he said, with that curious tone of his +that always seemed to be asking pardon for his boldness in speaking to +my brother; “for here are games at which they need some one to show the +way.” + +“This is a sport that I have not seen before,” answered Havelok, +looking over the heads of the crowd. “I should make a poor hand at it.” + +They had been tossing a great fir pole, which was now laid on one side, +with its top split from its falls, and they, thanes and freemen in +turn, were putting a great stone, so heavy that a matter of a few +inches beyond the longest cast yet made would be something to be proud +of. Good sport enough it was to see the brawny housecarls heave it from +the ground and swing it. But no one could lift it above his knee, so +that one may suppose that it flew no great distance at a cast. + +“Nay, but the thanes are trying,” Berthun said. “It is open to all to +do what they can. One of your porters is best man so far.” + +“Well, I will not try to outdo him.” + +“I would that you would lift the stone, Curan. That is a thing that I +should most like to see.” + +“Well then, master, as you bid me, I will try. But do not expect too +much.” + +The man who had the stone made his cast, which was nothing to speak of; +and then the stone lay unclaimed for a time, while all the onlookers +waited to see who came forward next. Then Havelok made his way through +the crowd, and a silence as of wonder fell on the people; for some knew +him, and had heard of his strength, and those who did not stared at him +as at a wonder. But the silence did not last long, for the porters who +were there set up a sort of shout of delight, and that one who had made +the longest cast so far began to tell him how best to heft the stone +and swing it. + +Then Havelok bent to raise the stone, and the noise hushed again. I saw +his mighty limbs harden and knot under the strain, and up to his knee +he heaved it, and to his middle, and yet higher, to his chest, while we +all held our breaths, and then with a mighty lift it was at his +shoulder, and he poised it, and swung as one who balances for a moment, +and then hurled it from him. Then was a shout that Alsi might have +heard in his hilltop palace, for full four paces beyond the strong +porter’s cast it flew, lighting with a mighty crash, and bedding itself +in the ground where it lit. And I saw the young thanes with wide eyes +looking at my brother, and from beside me Berthun the cook fairly +roared with delight. + +And then from across the space between the two lines of onlookers I saw +a man in a fisher’s dress that caught my eye. It was Withelm, and we +nodded to each other, well pleased. + +Now there seemed to be a strife as to who should get nearest to +Havelok, for men crowded to pat him and to look up at him, and that +pleased him not at all. One came and bade him take the silver pennies +that the thanes had set out for the prize, but he shook his head and +smiled. + +“I threw the thing because I was bidden, and not for any prize,” he +said. “I would have it given to the porter who fairly won it.” + +Then he elbowed his way to Berthun, and said, “let us go, master; we +have stayed here too long already.” + +“As it pleases you,” the steward said; and Havelok waved his hand to +me, and they went their way. + +He had not seen Withelm, and I was glad, for I wanted to speak to him +alone first. + +Now men began to ask who this was, and many voices answered, while the +porter went to claim the prize from the thane who held it. + +Two silver pennies the thane gave him, and said, “This seems to be a +friend of yours, and it was good to hear you try to help him without +acrimony. Not that he needed any hints from any one, however. Who is +he?” + +“Men call him Curan, that being the name he gives himself; but he came +as a stranger to the place, and none know from whence, unless Berthun +the cook may do so. Surely he is a friend of mine, for he shook me +once, and that shaking made an honest man of me. He himself taught me +what fair play is, at that same time.” + +So said the porter, and laughed, and the thane joined him. + +“Well, he has made a sort of name for himself as a wonder, certainly, +now. I think that this cast of his will be told of every time men lift +a stone here in Lincoln,” said the thane. + +They left the stone where he had set it, and any one may see it there +to this day, and there I suppose it will be for a wonder while +Havelok’s name is remembered. + +Then they began wrestling and the like, and I left the crowd and went +to Withelm, going afterwards to the widow’s. I was not yet wanted by +Eglaf for any housecarl duty. + +“I sent a man to Grimsby yesterday,” I said; “but you must have passed +him on the way somewhere, for he could not have started soon enough to +take you a message before you left.” + +“I met him on the road last night, for I myself thought it time to come +and see how you two fared. I bided at Cabourn for the night, and your +messenger came on with me.” + +Then he told me that all were well at Grimsby; for fish came now and +then and kept the famine from the town, though there were none to send +elsewhere; and it was well that we had left, though they all missed us +sorely. + +Then we began to talk of the doings here; and at last I spoke of +Havelok’s trouble, as one may well call it, telling him also of the +strange dream with which it all began. + +“All this is strange,” he said thoughtfully; “but if Havelok our +brother is indeed a king’s son, it is only what he is like in all his +ways. Wise was our father Grim, and I mind how he seemed always to be +careful of him in every way, and good reason must he have had not to +say what he knew. We will not ask aught until the time of which Arngeir +knows has come. Nor can we say aught to Havelok, though he is troubled, +for we know nothing. As for the dream, that is part of it all, and it +is a portent, as I think.” + +“Did I know the man who could read it, I would go to him and tell him +it.” + +“There is one man who can read dreams well,” Withelm answered, flushing +a little, “but I do not know if you would care to seek him. I stayed +with him last night, and he is on his way even now to Lincoln, driven +by the famine. I mean the old British priest David, who has his little +hut and chapel in the Cabourn woods. His people have no more to give +him.” + +I knew that Withelm thought much of this old man of late, and I was not +surprised to hear him speak of him now. All knew his wisdom, and the +marsh folk were wont to seek him when they were in any trouble or +difficulty. But I did not care to go to him, for he seemed to belong to +the thralls, as one might say. + +“Well, if he comes here, no doubt you will know where to find him if we +need him,” I said. “Bide with us for a few days at least, for here is +plenty, and there is much going on.” + +So we went into the town, and then to the palace, and found Havelok, +and after that I had to go to the gate on guard. And what these two did +I cannot say, but, at all events, there is nothing worth telling of. + +Now, however, I have to tell things that I did not see or hear myself, +and therefore I would have it understood that I heard all from those +who took some part or other in the matter, and so know all well. + +I have not said much of the meetings of the Witan, for I had naught +more to do with them than to guard the doors of the hall where they met +now and then; but since the princess and Ragnar came they seem to have +somewhat to do with the story, as will be seen. + +On this day one of the Norfolk thanes asked in full meeting what plans +the king had for his ward Goldberga, and her coming into her kingdom, +saying that she, being eighteen years of age, was old enough to take +her place. + +Now Alsi had thought of this beforehand, and was ready at once. + +“It is a matter of concern to us always,” he said, “and much have I +thought thereof. It is full time that she took her father’s place with +the consent of the Witan, which is needed.” + +He looked round us for reply to this, and at once the Norfolk thanes +said, “We will have Goldberga for our queen, as was the will of +Ethelwald.” + +“That,” said Alsi, “is as I thought. I needed only to hear it said +openly. Now, therefore, it remains but to speak of one other thing and +that is a weighty one. It was her father’s will and I swore to carry it +out, that she should be wedded to the most goodly and mightiest man in +the realm. It seems to me that on her marriage hangs all the wealth of +her kingdom; and ill it would be if, after she took the throne, she +took to herself one who made himself an evil adviser. I would say that +it were better to see her married first, for it does not follow that +you would choose to have the man whom I thought fitting to be over you, +as he certainly would be.” + +Now all this was so straightforward in all seeming that none of the +thanes could be aught but pleased. Moreover, it took away a fear that +they had had lest Griffin was to be the man. None could say that he +fulfilled the conditions of the will of Ethelwald. The spokesman said, +therefore, that it was well set before them, and that it was best to +wait, saying at the end, “For, after all, we might have to change our +minds concerning the princess, if with her we must take a man who will +prove a burden or tyrant to us all.” + +Then they asked the king to find a good husband for the princess as +soon as might be, so that he was not against her liking. + +“Well,” said Alsi, “it is a hard task for a man who has no wife to help +him; but we will trust to the good sense of my niece. Now, I had +thought of Ragnar of Norwich; but it is in my mind that the old laws of +near kin are somewhat against this.” + +I suppose that he had no intention of letting the earl marry the +princess; but this was policy, as it might please the thanes. However, +the matter of kinship did not please some, and that was all that he +needed, for there was excuse then for him if he forbade that match, +which was the last he wanted. + +Ragnar sat in his place and heard all this, and he wished himself back +at Norwich. + +So there the matter ended, and that was the last sitting of the Witan. +There was to be a great breaking-up feast that night before the thanes +scattered to their homes. + +Now while this was going on I ended my spell of duty, and bethought me +of Mord the chamberlain, and so went to Berthun and asked for him. He +said that if I had any special business with Mord I might see him; and +I said, truly enough, that my errand was special, having to do with +friends of his; so it was not long before they took me to him. He was +in a long room that was built on the side of the great hall, as it +were, and I could hear the murmur of the voices of those who spoke at +the Witan while I waited. + +Now Mord was not so much changed as I, and at first he did not know me +at all. + +“Well, master housecarl, what may your message be, and from whom is +it?” he said, without more than a glance at me. + +“Why, there are some old friends of yours who are anxious to know if +you have forgotten the feeling of a halter round your neck,” I said in +good Danish. + +Then, after one look, he knew me at once, and ran to me, and took my +hand, and almost kissed me in his pleasure, for since I could handle an +oar he had known me, and had taught me how to do that, moreover. + +Then he called for wine and food; and we sat down together and had a +long talk of the old days, and of how we had fared after he left, and +of all else that came uppermost. And sorely he grieved at my father’s +death, and at the trouble that was on us. The famine had not been so +sore in the south, and pestilence had not been at all. + +As for himself, he had been courtman, as we call the housecarls, at +first, and so had risen to be chamberlain to the king, and now to the +princess, and had been with her everywhere that Alsi had sent her since +her father died. + +“It was a good day for me, and wise was Grim when he bade me go to +Ethelwald to seek service,” he said; “yet I would that I had seen him +once more. I have never been to this place before, else I should have +sought him.” + +Now I was going to ask him about Havelok, but hardly knew how to begin. +He saved me the trouble however, by speaking first. + +“Who were the lady and the boy we had on board when we came to +England?” he said. “I never heard, and maybe it was as well that I did +not.” + +“My father never told me. But why do you think that it was well not to +know?” + +“Because I am sure that Grim had good reason for not telling. Before I +had been a year at Norwich there came a ship from Denmark into the +river, and soon men told me that her master was asking for news of one +Grim, a merchant, who was lost. So I saw him, not saying who I was or +that I had anything to do with Grim; and then I found that it was not +so much of the master that he wanted news as of the boy we had with us. +He did not ask of the lady at all, and I was sure that this was the man +who came and spoke to Grim just as we were sailing, if you remember. So +then it came to me that we knew nothing of the coming on board of these +two, only learning of their presence when we were far at sea. And now, +if Hodulf troubled himself so much about this boy, there must be +something that he was not meant to know about his flight, for he must +be of some note. Did I not know that the king’s son was in his hands at +that time, I should have thought that our passenger was he. However, I +told him of the shipwreck as of a thing that I had seen, saying that +Grim and his family and a few men only had been saved; and I told him +also that I had heard that he had lost some folk in an attack by +Vikings. With that he seemed well satisfied, and I heard no more of +him. I have wondered ever since who the boy was, and if he was yet +alive. I mind that he was like to die when he came ashore.” + +Then I laughed, and said that he would hear of him soon enough, for all +the town was talking of him; and he guessed whom I meant, for he had +heard of the cook’s mighty man. + +Now I said no more but this: + +“My father kept this matter secret all these years, and with reason, as +we have seen; and so, while he is here, we call this foster-brother of +mine Curan, until the time comes when his name may he known. Maybe it +will be best for you not to say much of your knowledge of him. What +does Earl Ragnar know of our wreck? For he told me that you knew me.” + +“I told him all about it at one time or another,” Mord answered. “He +always wanted to hear of Denmark.” + +So that was all that the chamberlain knew; but it was plain to me that +the earl had put two and two together when he heard Havelok’s name, and +had remembered that this was also the name of Gunnar’s son. Afterwards +I found that Mord had heard from Denmark that Hodulf was said to have +made away with Havelok, but he never remembered that at this time. +Ragnar knew this, and did remember it. + +Pleasant it was to talk of old days with an old friend thus, and the +time went quickly. Then Mord must go to his mistress and I to my place, +and so we parted for the time. But my last doubt of who Havelok my +brother might be was gone. I was sure that he was the son of Gunnar the +king. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. +THE WITAN’S FEASTING. + + +Now I have to tell of a strange thing that happened in the night that +was just past, the first that the Lady Goldberga had spent here in +Lincoln for many a year, for on that happening hangs a great deal, and +it will make clear what I myself saw presently at the breaking-up feast +of the Witan. That puzzled me mightily at the time, as it did many at +the feast, but I see no reason why it should not be told at once. + +Now I have said that Goldberga left the hall early overnight, being +wearied with the journey, and having the remembrance of the attack on +her party so near to Lincoln to trouble her also. Not much cause to +love her uncle Alsi had she; though perhaps, also, not much to make her +hate him, except that he had kept her so far away from her own people +of late, in a sort of honourable captivity. Now it was plain to her +that had it not been for the presence of Ragnar and his men, her guard +would not have been able to drive off the attackers; and the strange +way in which Griffin had held back had been too plain for her not to +notice. Already she feared him, and it seemed that he might have +plotted her carrying off thus. That Alsi might have had a hand in the +matter did not come into her mind, as it did into the minds of others, +for she knew little of him, thinking him honest if not very pleasant in +his ways, else had not her father made him her guardian. + +I will say now that in the attack he did have a hand. Many a long year +afterward it all came out in some way. He dared not give his niece to +Griffin openly, but he wished to do so, as then he would have an +under-king in East Anglia of his own choosing. Sorely against the grain +with him was it that he should have to give up those fair lands to this +girl, who would hold the throne by her own right, and not at all under +him. So he and Griffin had plotted thus, and only Ragnar’s presence had +spoilt the plan, though Griffin had tried to save it by holding back. +But I must say also that up to this time none had had aught to say +against Alsi as a ruler, though he was over close, and not at all +hearty in his ways at home. But now, for the sake of the kingdom, he +had begun to plot; and this plan having come to naught, he must make +others, as will be seen. I do not think that this planning to keep +Ethelwald’s kingdom from his daughter was anything fresh to Alsi, but +the time for action had come now. + +He had made ready by keeping the fair princess far away, and there were +none who could speak of her goodness, or, indeed, had heard much of her +since she was a child. Therefore, as men were content enough with him, +none would trouble much if the princess came not to the throne, given +good reason why she should not do so. And the very best reason would be +that which Alsi had given at the Witan—if her husband was not fit to be +king. + +It is possible that Goldberga knew that her marriage would be talked of +at this Witan: but I do not think that she troubled herself much about +it, not by any means intending to be married against her will. I have +heard that so ran the will of Ethelwald, that she was to have choice to +some extent. However that may be, with so many thoughts to trouble her +she went to rest, and her sleep was not easy until the morning was +near, and then came quiet. + +But presently, in the grey of the dawn, she woke, and called her old +nurse, who was in the chamber with her; and when she came she told her +that she had had a strange vision or dream, so real that she did not +know which it was. And what it portended she could not say, for it was +wonderful altogether, and surely was good. + +“I thought that a voice wakened me, calling me to look on somewhat; and +so I rose as I was bidden, and saw before me the most mighty and +comeliest man that could be thought of. Kinglike he was, though he had +no crown and was meanly clad, without brooch or bracelet that a king +should wear. But the wonder was that from his mouth came a bright shaft +of flame, as it were of a sunbeam, that lighted all the place, and on +his shoulder shone a cross of burning light as of red-hot gold, and I +knew that it was the mark of a mighty king. + +“Then I heard the voice again, and I turned, and saw that it was an +angel who spoke to me, and his face was bright and kind. + +“‘Fear not, Goldberga,’ he said, ‘for this is your husband that shall +be. King’s son and heir is he, as that token of the fiery cross shows. +More, also, it will betoken—that he shall reign in England and in +Denmark, a great king and mighty. And this you shall see, and with him +shall you reign as queen and well-loved lady.’ + +“So the voice ceased, and the angel was gone, and when I looked up +there was naught but the growing dawn across yon window, and the voice +of the thrush that sings outside.” + +Now the old nurse pondered over the dream for a while without speaking, +for she could not see what it might mean at first. + +But at last she said, “It is a good dream surely, because of the angel +that spoke; but there seems only one way in which it can come to pass. +A prince must come for you from Denmark, for there he would reign by +his own right, and here he would do so by yours. Yet I have heard that +the Danish kings are most terrible heathen, worse than the Saxon kin, +of whom we know the worst now. Maybe that is why the angel told you to +have no fear. I mind Gunnar Kirkeban, and what he wrought on the +churches and Christian folk in Wales—in Gower on the Severn Sea, and on +the holy Dee—when I was young.” + +For both Goldberga and this old nurse of hers were Christian, as had +been Orwenna, Ethelwald’s wife, her mother. It had been a great day for +them when the King of Kent had brought over his fair wife, Bertha, from +France, for she, too, was Christian, and had restored the ancient +church in the very castle where Goldberga was kept. + +Now the princess went to sleep again, and woke refreshed; but all day +long the memory of the dream and of him whom she saw in it bided with +her, until it was time for her to go to the great hall for the feast of +the Witan. + +Now it happened that on this night I must be one of the two housecarls +who should stand, torch in hand, behind the king. It was a place that +none of the men cared for much, since they saw their comrades feasting +at the end of the room, while they must bide hungry till the end, and +mind that no sparks from the flaring pine fell on the guests, moreover. +Eglaf would have excused me this had I wished; but I would take my turn +with the rest, and maybe did not mind losing the best of the feast so +much as the others. There were some three hundred guests at that feast, +and it was a wondrous fair sight to me as I stood on the high place and +saw them gather. The long table behind which I was ran right across the +dais, rich with gold and silver and glass work: and below this, all +down the hall, ran long tables again, set lengthwise, that none might +have their backs to the king. And at the end of the hall, crosswise, +were the tables for the housecarls, and the men of the house, and of +the thanes who were guests. And as the housecarls came in they hung +their shields and weapons on the walls in order, so that they flashed +bright from above the hangings that Berthun and his men had set up +afresh and more gaily than I had seen yet in this place. + +There was a fire on the great hearth in the midst of the hall; but as +it was high summer, only a little one, and over it were no cauldrons, +as there would have been in the winter. Berthun was doing his cookery +elsewhere. But between the tables were spaces where his thralls and the +women could pass as they bore round the food and drink. And backwards +and forwards among them went Berthun until the very last, anxious and +important, seeing that all was right, and showing one guest after +another to their places. No light matter was that either, for to set a +thane in too low a place for his rank was likely to be a cause of +strife and complaint. Also he must know if there were old feuds still +remembered, lest he should set deadly enemies side by side. I did not +envy him, by any means. + +When it seemed that there were few more guests to come, and only half a +dozen seats were vacant on the high place, Berthun passed into the room +beyond the hall, and at once a hush fell on the noisy folk, who had +been talking to one another as though they had never met before. The +gleemen tuned their harps, and I and my comrade lit our torches from +those already burning on the wall, and stood ready, for the king was +coming. + +Out of the door backed Berthun with many bows, and loud sang the +gleemen, while all in the hall stood up at once; and then came Alsi, +leading the princess, first; and then Ragnar, with the wife of some +great noble; and after him that noble and another lady; but Griffin was +not there. Bright looked Goldberga in her blue dress, with wondrous +jewels on arm and neck, and maybe the brighter for the absence of the +Welsh thane, as I thought. + +So they sat as last night, save that the noble who had come next to +Ragnar was in Griffin’s place; and therefore I stood behind the king +and the princess, with the light of my torch falling between the two. + +Now they were set, and at once Berthun bore a great beaker of wine to +the king, and all down the hall ran his men with the pitchers of wine +and mead and ale, and with them the women of the household and the +wives of the courtmen, filling every drinking horn for the welcome cup. + +Then the gleemen hushed their song, and Alsi stood up with the +gold-rimmed horn of the king in his hand, and high he raised it, and +cried, “Waeshael!” + +And all the guests rose up, cup in hand, with a wonderful flashing of +the glorious English jewels, and cried with one voice, “Drinc hael, +Cyning!” + +Then all sat them down, and at once came Berthun’s men with the laden +spits and the cauldrons, and first they served the high table, kneeling +on the dais steps while each noble helped himself and the lady next him +with what he would. And then down the hall the feast began, and for a +time befell a silence—the silence of hungry folk who have before them a +good reason for not saying much for a little while. + +I looked for Havelok among Berthun’s men, but he was not there. Nor was +he at the lower cross tables with the other people of the palace. But +Withelm was there, for Eglaf had seen him with me not an hour ago, and +had bidden him come, as a stranger from far off. There were a few other +strangers there also, as one might suppose, for the king’s hall must be +open at these times. + +Now I looked on all this, and it pleased me; and then I began to hear +the talk of those at the high table, and that was pleasant also. First +I heard that Griffin had fallen off his horse, and had put his arm out. +Whereon one said that he only needed one hand to feed with, and +marvelled that so small a hurt kept him away from so pleasant a place +as was his. + +“It seems that he fell on his face,” answered a thane who had seen him. +“He is not as handsome as he was last night. That is what keeps him +away. Some passerby put his arm in straightway.” + +At that I almost laughed, but kept a face wooden as that of our old +statue of Thor, for Eglaf had warned me that I was but a torch, as it +were, unless by any chance I was spoken to. But Ragnar glanced my way +with a half smile. Presently they began to talk of the stone putting, +and of the mighty man who had come with Berthun, and I saw several +looking idly down the hall to see if they could spy him. One of the +thanes on the high seat, at the end, was he who had held the prizes at +these sports. + +Now it seemed that Alsi had not heard of this before; and when he had +been told all about it, he said that he did not know that he had any +man who was strong enough to make such a cast as they spoke of, though +Eglaf had picked up a big man somewhere lately, whom he had noticed at +the hall end once or twice. + +Then he ran his eyes over the tables, for now the women folk had sat +down among the men, and one could see everywhere. But he did not see +the man he meant, and so turned sharply on us two housecarls behind +him. + +“Here he is,” he said, laughing and looking at me. “Were you the mighty +stone putter they make such a talk of?” + +“I am not, lord,” I said, somewhat out of countenance, because every +one looked at me together. It had never seemed to me that I was so big +before; perhaps because I was used to Havelok, and to Raven, who was +nigh as tall as myself, and maybe a bit broader. + +“Why, then, who was he?” said the king. “We must ask Berthun, unless +anyone can see him in the hall.” + +Then the thane of the prizes said, “He is not here, lord; for little +trouble would there be in seeing him, if he were, seeing that he is a +full head and shoulders over even this housecarl of yours.” + +Now the princess had turned to look at me, and she saw that I was +abashed, and so she smiled at me pleasantly, as much as to say that she +was a little sorry for me, and turned away. Then thought I that if ever +the princess needed one to fight for her, even to death, I would do so +for the sake of that smile and the thought for a rough housecarl that +was behind it. + +Now came Berthun with more wine, before the matter of the stone was +forgotten in other talk, and the king said, “It seems that you have +found a new man, steward, for all are talking of him. I mean the man +who is said to have thrown a big stone certain miles, or somewhat like +it, from all accounts. Where is he?” + +“He is my new porter,” answered Berthun, with much pride; “but he is +not in the hail, for he does not like to hear much of himself, being +quiet in his ways, although so strong.” + +“Here is a marvel,” laughed Alsi, “and by-and-by we must see him. I +wonder that Eglaf let you have him.” + +Now Eglaf sat at the head of the nearest of the lower tables, and all +in hearing of the king were of course listening by this time. So he +said, “The man had his choice, and chose the heavier place, if you will +believe me, lord. It is terrible to see how Berthun loads him at times; +so that I may get him yet.” + +Then all laughed at the steward, whose face grew red; but he had to +laugh also, because the jest pleased the king. He went away quickly; +and one told Eglaf that he had better eat no more, else would he run +risk of somewhat deadly at the cook’s hands. But those two were old +friends, as has been seen, and they were ever seeking jests at each +other’s expense. + +Now the talk drifted away to other things, and I hoped that Havelok had +been forgotten, for no more than I would he like being stared at. The +feast went on, and twice I had to take new torches, but Berthun saw +that I had wine, if I could not eat as yet. Then had men finished +eating, and the tables were cleared, and the singing began, very +pleasant to hearken. Not only the gleemen sang, but the harp went +round, and all who could did so. Well do the Lindsey folk sing, after +their own manner, three men at a time, in a gladsome way, with +well-matched voices, and that for just long enough to be pleasant. + +So the harp went its way down the hall, and the great folk fell to talk +again; and at last one said, so that Alsi heard him, “Why, we have not +seen the strong man yet. Strange that he is not feasting with the +rest.” + +Whereat the king beckoned Berthun. + +“Bring your new wonder here,” he said. “Say that I have heard of his +deed, and would look on him.” + +Berthun bowed and went his way; and I wondered how my brother would +bear this, for the hall and its ordering was wont, as I have said, to +bring back his troubled thoughts of things half remembered. + +Presently he came in at the door at the lower end of the hall, and at +first none noticed him, for there was singing going on, and through +that door came and went many with things for the feast from the +kitchens. Then some one turned to see who towered over them thus, and +when he saw Havelok he went on looking, so that others looked also. +Then one of the three singers looked, and his voice stayed, for he was +a stranger, and had heard nothing of this newcomer, and then Havelok +followed Berthun up the hall in a kind of hush that fell, and he was +smiling a little, as if it amused him. He had on the things that the +steward had given him, and they were good enough—as good as, if more +sober than, my housecarl finery. But I suppose that not one in all the +gathering looked at what he wore; for as he passed up the long tables, +it seemed that there was no man worth looking at but he, and even +Ragnar seemed to be but a common man when one turned to him with eyes +that had seen Havelok. + +Now Alsi the king sat staring at him, still as a carven image, with his +hand halfway to his mouth, as he raised his horn from the table; and +Ragnar looked wide-eyed, for he knew him again, and I saw a little +smile curl the corners of his lips and pass; and then Havelok was at +the step of the high place, and there he gave the salute of the +courtmen of a Danish king, heeding Berthun, who tried to make him do +reverence, not at all. + +Now a spark from my torch drew my eyes from him, lest it should fall on +the princess’s robe; and when it went out, I saw that the fair hand +that rested on the arm of the great chair was shaking like a leaf. When +I looked, her face was white and troubled, and she half rose from her +seat and then sank back in it gently, and the thane who sat next her +spoke anxiously to her in a low voice, and the lady by his side rose up +and came to her. + +Then Alsi turned, and he too spoke, asking if aught was amiss. + +“The princess faints with the heat of the hall,” said the thane’s wife. +“She yet feels the long journey. May she not go hence?” + +Then Goldberga said bravely, “It is naught, and it will pass.” + +But they made her rise and leave the hall; and the guests stood up as +she went with her ladies round her, and many were the murmurs of pity +that I heard. + +“As though she had seen a ghost, so white is she,” one whispered. + +But none knew how much the lady was to be pitied. She had seen the man +of her vision; and, lo! for all that she knew, he was a thrall who +toiled in the palace kitchens. + +And after her, as she withdrew, looked Havelok with eyes in which there +was more than pity. I could see him well, but I did not know how he had +seen the fair princess tremble and grow white as she gazed on him. I +know that, as he saw her for this first time, it was with the wish that +he were in Ragnar’s place. But I thought that if Havelok were king, +here was the queen for him. + +Now Alsi bade the feast go on, and be spoke a few words only to +Havelok, letting him go at once, and I was glad. This sudden faintness +of the princess had put all out somewhat, and none cared to take up a +jest where it had stayed. Nevertheless, I saw the king’s eyes follow my +brother down the hall, and in them was a new and strange look that was +not pleasant at all. + +Then it seemed that one was staring at me, and as will happen, I must +look in a certain place; and there was Cadwal, the Welsh thane, halfway +down one of the long tables, glaring first at me, and then at Havelok, +as he went. It came into my mind that he would be wroth with Ragnar for +bringing a kitchen knave as his second, as it were, in derision of +Griffin. I thought that I would find a chance presently to tell him why +my fellow second chose to be serving thus, and so make things right +with him, for this seemed to be due to Ragnar, if not to all concerned. + +Not long after Goldberga had gone, the king withdrew also, and then the +hall grew noisy enough, and I could leave my place. But by that time +Cadwal had left also; and next day, when I sought him, both he and +Griffin were no longer in Lincoln, none knowing whither they had gone. +So I troubled no more about them. + +But had I known that these two had been among the Welshmen that Hodulf +led to Denmark when he slew Gunnar Kirkeban, and therefore knew all the +story of the loss of Havelok, and how Hodulf had sought for news of +him, I should have been in fear enough that we had not yet done with +them. Rightly, too, should I have feared that, as will be seen. + +Now while I looked about the hall for Cadwal, Mord the chamberlain saw +me, and made me sit down by him while I ate. Hungry enough was I by +that time, as may be supposed, for one cannot make a meal off the sight +of a feast; and as I ate, the noise of the hall grew apace as the cups +went round. Then some of the older thanes left, and soon Mord and I had +that table to ourselves. It was plain that he was full of something +that he would say to me, and when I was ready to listen he bent near me +and said, “So that was the boy who fled with us.” + +“Ay. He has grown since you saw him last.” + +“That is not all,” answered Mord. “Well I knew Gunnar, our king, and +tonight I thought he had come back to us from Valhalla, goodlier yet +and mightier than ever, as one who has feasted with the Asir might well +be. For if this boy of ours is not Gunnar’s son, then he is Gunnar +himself.” + +Now that was no new thought to me, as I have shown, and I was ready for +it, seeing that even I had seen the likeness to the king as I +remembered him. + +“Keep that thought to yourself for a while, Mord,” I said. “It is in my +mind that you are right, but the time has not yet come for me to know.” + +“That is wisdom, too,” he answered; “for if once he gathers a +following, there is a bad time in store for Hodulf. And it will be +better that we fall on him unawares, before he knows that Havelok, son +of Gunnar, lives.” + +“We fall on him?” + +“Ay, you and I, mail on chest and weapon in hand, with Havelok to lead +us. What? think you that I would hold back when Gunnar’s son is +calling?” + +“Steady, friend,” I said, laughing; “men will be looking at us.” + +So he was silent again; and now I thought that the time of which my +father spoke had surely come, for it was plain that Havelok was a man +whom men would gladly follow as he went to win back his kingdom. And I +went and fetched Withelm from where he sat, and so we three talked long +and pleasantly, until it was time for us to go forth from the hall. And +we thought that it was good for Arngeir to come here, for the secret +was coming to light of itself, as it were, and we would have him speak +with Mord. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. +THE CRAFT OF ALSI THE KING. + + +Now Alsi the king went from the feast with a new and cruel thought in +his mind under the smiling face that he wore, and long he sat in his +own chamber, chin on hand and eyes far off, thinking; and at last he +called Berthun. + +“What is the name of this big knave of yours?” he asked, when the +steward stood before him. + +“He calls himself Curan, lord.” + +“Calls himself. Well, it is likely that he knows his own name best. Is +he Welsh, therefore?” + +“So I think, lord.” + +“You might have been certain by this time, surely. I like Welshmen +about the place, and I was giving you credit for finding me a good one. +Whence comes he?” + +Now it was on Berthun’s tongue to say that he thought that Curan came +from the marshland, yet clinging to his own thoughts of what he was. He +did not at all believe that he came from that refuge of thralls. But he +must seem certain unless he was to be laughed at again. + +So he said, “He comes from the marsh-country.” + +“Does he speak Welsh?” + +“I have heard him do so to the market people, if he happened to meet a +Briton there.” + +“Why, then, of course he is Welsh: and here have I found out in two +minutes what you have taken I do not know how long to think about. Go +to, Berthun; you grow slow of mind with good living.” + +The king chuckled, and Berthun bowed humbly; but now the steward was +determined to say no more than he was obliged in answer to more +questions. Also he began to hope that Alsi would ask nothing about the +clothes this man of his wore, else he would be well laughed at for +spending his money on a stranger. + +But Alsi seemed pleased with himself, or else with what he had heard, +and went on. + +“Has this Curan friends in the town?” + +“None, lord, so far as I know.” + +“Let me tell you that you may know a man’s friends by the company he +keeps. With whom does he talk?” + +“None come to seek him, lord, except one of the housecarls—the big man +to whom you spoke tonight. Seldom does he go into the town, and then +only the porters seem to know him, for he was among them, as a +stranger, when I met him first.” + +“A big man will always make an acquaintance with another,” Alsi said, +“and the porters are the lowest in the place. One may be sure that he +has left his friends in some starving village in the marsh, and has +none here. That will do, Berthun. Take care of him, for I may have use +for him. But next time you hire a man, use your wits to learn somewhat +of him, if it is too much trouble to ask.” + +So Berthun was dismissed, and went out in a bad temper with himself. +Yet he knew that he would have been laughed at for a fool if he had +said that he thought Curan more than he seemed. + +Now Alsi was alone, and he fell to thought again. By-and-by it was +plain to be understood what his thoughts had been, and they were bad. +And after he had slept on them they were no better, seeing what came of +them. But I think that he was pleased to find that Havelok was, as he +thought, a Welsh marshman, and well-nigh friendless, for so he would be +the more ready to do what he was bidden; though, indeed, there seemed +little doubt that the plan Alsi made for himself would find no +stumbling block in Curan, if it might meet with a check elsewhere. +That, however, was to be seen. + +Well pleased was Alsi the king with somewhat, men said in the morning. + +But there was one who rose heavy and sorely troubled, and that was the +Lady Goldberga, for all the fancies that had been brought to her by the +vision had come to nothing, or worse than nothing, as she looked on +Havelok and saw in the cook’s knave the very form of him of whom she +had dreamed, and whom she could not forget. Glad had she been to go to +her own chamber and away from the kindly ladies who could not know her +real trouble; but not even to her old nurse did she tell what that was. +Her one thought now was to seek someone who was skilful in the reading +of dreams, and so find some new hope from it all. But no one could tell +her of such a one here, unless it were to be a priest of Woden, and +that she would not hear of. + +Then, early in the morning, Alsi sent for her, saying that he would +speak with her alone for a while. So she went to him, where he sat in +the chamber beyond the high place; and he greeted her kindly, asking +after her rest, and saying that he hoped that the sudden faintness had +hurt her not. Then he led her to a seat, and bade her rest while he +talked of state affairs. + +“For it must be known to you, my niece, that the Witan thinks it time +that you should take your father’s kingdom.” + +Now Goldberga knew that, and had long made up her mind that when the +time came she would not shrink from the burden of the crown. + +It may well have been that Alsi thought that she would wish to wait for +a time yet, for he did not seem altogether pleased when she answered, +“If the Witan thinks right, I am ready.” + +“But,” he said, “there is one thing to come before that. The Witan must +know who your husband shall be. And that is reasonable, for he will +have a share in ruling the kingdom.” + +Then said Goldberga, “They need have no fear in that matter, for I will +wed none but a king or the heir of a king.” + +“Well,” said Alsi, dryly enough, “they are not so plentiful as are +blackberries, and there may be two words to that.” + +“I am not anxious to be wedded,” answered the princess, “and I can +wait. It is, as you say, a matter that is much to the country.” + +Then Alsi tried another plan, seeing that Goldberga was not at all put +out by this. So he forced a cunning smile that was meant to be +pleasant, and said, “I had thought that your mind ran somewhat on +Ragnar.” + +He looked to see the lady change colour, but she did not. + +“Ragnar is my cousin,” she said, “or a good brother to me, if you will. +Moreover, until the other day when he met me in London by some good +fortune, I had hardly seen him since my father died.” + +“What think you of Griffin?” + +“Nothing at all, for nidring he is,” answered Goldberga with curling +lip. + +Now that angered Alsi, for he had so much to do with that business; and +if Griffin was to be called thus by his fault, he was likely to lose a +friend. + +“I would have you remember,” he said, “that in all this choosing it +remains for me to give consent or withhold it.” + +“I shall only ask your consent to my wedding such a man as I have told +you of, uncle—a king or a king’s son.” + +“So,” said Alsi, “you would choose first, and ask me afterwards, +forsooth! That is not the way that things are to be between us. It is +for me to choose, and that according to the oath which I took when your +father made me guardian of you and his realm.” + +“Yet,” said Goldberga very gently, “I think that my father would not +have meant that I should be the only one not to be asked.” + +“I can only go by what I swore, and that I will carry out. I promised +to see you married to the most goodly and mightiest man in the land.” + +“That can be none but a king, as I think.” + +Now Alsi grew impatient, for he meant to settle one matter before he +went much farther. + +“I will say at once that I can have no king over the East Anglian +kingdom. It is not to be thought of that after all these years I should +have to take second place there. You will hold the kingdom from me, and +I shall be overlord there. I will send you some atheling who can keep +the land in order for you, but there shall be no king to bring that +land under the power of his own kingdom.” + +That was plain speaking, and it roused Goldberga. + +“Never have you been overlord of my kingdom,” she said. “Well have you +ruled it for me while I could not rule it myself, and for that I thank +you heartily. But it is not right that I should seem to hold it from +you.” + +“That is to be seen,” sneered Alsi, “for it lies with me to say what +marriage you make, and on that depends whether the Witan, in its +wisdom, sees fit to hail you as queen. Not until you are married will +you take the kingdom at all.” + +“Then,” said the princess, growing pale, “I will speak to the Witan +myself, and learn their will.” + +“The Witan has broken up,” answered Alsi, “and the good thanes are +miles on their way homewards by this time. You are too late.” + +“I will call them up again.” + +“Certainly—that is, if I let my men run hither and thither to fetch +them. But after all, in this matter I am master. Whom you wed lies with +me.” + +Goldberga saw that she was in the hands of the king, and maybe as much +a prisoner as at Dover. So her spirits fled, and she asked what the +king willed. + +Alsi knew now that nothing but his utmost plan would be of any avail to +save that kingdom for himself, and so he broke out into wrath, working +up his fury that he might not go back. + +“My will is that you obey me in this carrying out of the oath I took on +the holy ring, [10] and on the Gospels also to please your mother. You +shall marry the man whom I choose, so that he be according to the words +of that oath.” + +“So that he be king or son of a king, I will obey you,” answered +Goldberga. + +“Then you defy me. For that I have told you that I will not have. Now +shall we see who is master. You mind yon kitchen knave of last night? +There can be none in all England mightier or more goodly than he is to +look on, and him shall you wed. So will my oath be well kept. Then if +your precious Witan will have him, well and good, for his master shall +I be.” + +Thereat the princess said that it were better that she should die; but +now Alsi had set out all his plan to her, and he did not mean to flinch +from carrying it out. There was no doubt that the Norfolk people would +hold that she had disgraced herself by the marriage, and so would +refuse to have her as queen. And that was all he needed. + +But Goldberga had no more to say, for she was past speaking, and the +king was fain to call her ladies. And when they came he went away +quickly, and gave orders for the safe keeping of the princess, lest she +should try to fly, or to get any message to Ragnar or other of the +Norfolk thanes. + +Now he must go through with this marriage, for he had shown himself too +plainly, and never would the princess trust him again. I have heard +that he sent for Griffin at this time; but, as I found, he was gone; +and if the king thought that perhaps the princess would wed him now to +escape from the kitchen knave, he had no chance to bring him forward. I +suppose he could have made out that Griffin, or for that matter any one +else he chose, was such a one as his oath to Ethelwald demanded. + +Sore wept Goldberga when she was back in her own place, and at first it +was hard for her to believe that Alsi could mean what he had +threatened. But then she could not forget her dream, and in that she +had most certainly seen the very form of him who stood before her at +the high place last night; and that perhaps troubled her more than +aught, for it seemed to say that him she must wed. But no king’s son +could he be, so that there must be yet such another mighty man to be +found. + +And then in her heart she knew that there could not be two such men, +both alike in all points to him of the vision. And she knew also, +though maybe she would not own it, that if this Curan had been but a +thane of little estate, she could have had naught to say against the +matter. + +And so at last she found that in her trouble and doubt and wish for +peace she was thinking, “Would that he were not the kitchen knave!” + +Now, it chanced that the old nurse had gone out into the town, and was +away all this while, so that she knew nothing of this new trouble; and +presently she was coming back with her arms full of what she had +bought, and there met her Havelok and Withelm, who had been to the +widow’s, and were on their way to find me at the gate. + +“Mother,” said Havelok, “let me help you up with these things.” + +That frightened the old lady, for she had been looking at him, and had +made up her mind that he was some mighty noble, as did most strangers. + +“Nay, lord,” she said; “that is not fitting for you.” + +“Less fitting is it that a strong man should see you thus burdened and +not help. No lord am I, but only the cook’s man. So I am going to the +palace.” + +But this she would not believe at first, and still refused. However, +Lincoln Hill is very steep, and she was not sorry when Havelok laughed +and took the things from her so soon as she had to halt for breath. + +“Curan will carry you up also, if you will, mother,” said Withelm. + +The nurse tossed her head at him and made no answer, being on her +dignity at once. Moreover, she had heard of Curan by this time, though +she had not seen him before. So she said no more, and went on proudly +enough, with her mighty attendant after her; but all the while it was +in her mind that there was some jest, or maybe wager, between the two. + +Now Withelm stopped at the gate; but I was not there, for I had been +sent to the palace, where guards were to be at each door. The word was +that some plot had been found out against the princess, and that +therefore we had to be careful. One easily believed that with all the +talk about the attack made on her party that was flying about. So he +came on to the palace kitchens, for Berthun knew him well, having so +often bought fish from him in the market; and there he sat down to talk +with the steward, for there was nothing much going on at the time, and +I was on guard. + +Now, the old nurse went to her mistress; and Goldberga sat in the +shadow, and was weeping no longer, seeing that it would not help at +all. + +“There is a wonder down yonder,” said the old lady, not seeing that +there had been any trouble yet—“such a man as I never saw in all my +days; and he even carried my goods up all the hill for me, old and ugly +as I am. That is not what every young man would do nowadays. Maybe it +was different when I was young, or else my being young made the +difference. The youth with him called him Curan, which is the name of +the strong porter they prate of, but doubtless that was a jest. This is +the most kingly man that could be; and I ween that those two made a +wager that he dared not carry a bundle up to the palace, whereby I was +the gainer, for breath grows short up that pitch. And when I thanked +him he bowed in that wise that can only come of being rightly taught +when one is young. Now, I am going to ask Berthun who he is, for he +spoke to him when he saw him, and that humbly, as it seemed.” + +So talked the nurse, and to all Goldberga answered never a word, for +all the trouble came back again, and with it the thought that she +hated, that if only— + +Then, as the nurse was leaving her, she called her back. + +“Nurse,” she said, “I am in sore trouble about the dream. It bides with +me, and will not cease to puzzle me until I weary for some one to read +it plainly. I would that Queen Bertha’s good chaplain were here, for I +might have been helped by him.” + +Then the nurse came back, quick to hear the sad tone in the voice of +her whom she had tended and loved since she was a child. + +“Why, my pretty, have you been weeping?” she said. “There was naught in +a dream like that to fray you thus.” + +“Nay, but it has come to me that this place is altogether heathen; and +it may have come from the hand of Freya, the false fiend that they +worship as a goddess, so that I may be ready to wed a heathen. Is there +no Christian in all this place?” + +“There are Welsh folk yet left in the marsh,” said the nurse, +pondering; “and where there is a Briton there is a Christian, and +there, also, will be a hidden priest. But it would be as much as his +life is worth to come here, even could we find one.” + +Then Goldberga said, “Alsi is not altogether heathen. If I asked he +would surely grant this.” + +For she thought that she knew how to gain consent. + +“If one can be found, and that is not likely. Well, then, I will ask +Berthun, who is good-natured enough, and most likely will not trouble +about a Christian coming here; and if so, we need not even ask Alsi.” + +So she went, not thinking for a moment that there was a priest of the +faith to be heard of. Mostly she wanted to hear more of Havelok, but +she would honestly do her other errand. + +But on her way across the courtyard she met Mord, and he was a great +friend of hers. + +“Whither now, nurse? They will not let you go out of the palace. They +say that there is trouble on hand with those folk that fell on us, and +we have to bide in shelter for a day or two.” + +“Well, I have been down the town this hour, and all is quiet enough. +This Alsi is an over-timid man. But I was seeking Berthun with a +strange message from the princess, and one that is not over safe here.” + +“Let me give it then.” + +“Well, it is nothing more or less than to ask if he can find a +Christian priest. Our mistress has had a strange dream, and it is true +that it sorely troubles her. So she wants one to whom she may tell it, +that it may be read aright. But though I must ask, I do not hope to +find one.” + +“Why,” said Mord, “there is not one Christian in all Lindsey.” + +“I would not say that. When I was first here with Orwenna the queen, +before she married Ethelwald, there were some in the marsh; for one day +I heard my own tongue spoken there, hunting with my mistress; and so +she stayed and talked with these poor folk, though the Welsh they spoke +was bad enough. But they were Christians, as they told her in fear and +trembling. They have not so much need to fear now.” + +“Then I can help you,” said Mord gladly. “Say nothing to the cook, for +I have found old friends who come from far in the marsh, and they will +tell me at once if they have heard of any priest. Why, when I think, +they know Welsh, and one has called himself by a Welsh name, and you +have seen him—Curan the porter.” + +“Ay; then do you ask these friends, and tell them that the sooner they +can bring a priest the better shall they be rewarded. I would give much +to have Goldberga’s mind set at rest.” + +So Mord said that he would go at once; and glad he was to see Withelm +sitting with Berthun, + +“Well,” said the steward, “I have known Withelm of Grimsby for the last +ten years or so, and I do not suppose that it matters if you speak with +him.” + +“Why should it matter if I speak with any one I choose?” asked Mord, +somewhat angrily. + +“That you must ask the king; for his orders are that the people of the +princess have no dealings with outsiders for two days.” + +“Mighty careful of us is Alsi all of a sudden,” said Mord. “I suppose +he thinks that someone will stick a seax into some of us in all +friendly wise while we are talking.” + +But Berthun only laughed, and went to where the nurse was beckoning to +him. He told her his own thoughts of Havelok, being glad to have a +ready hearer. + +At once Withelm was able to tell Mord that the old priest who was his +friend was in Lincoln at this time by good chance, and that he would +surely come to the princess at need. But when they came to talk of when +and how, it did not seem all so easy; and Mord went to the nurse to +tell her all. + +Then they had to speak to Berthun about it, and he was kindly and +willing to help; but he said that none might come to speak with the +princess without leave from the king. No doubt he would grant it +easily, if asked by Goldberga herself. + +“I will go and tell her,” said the old lady. “Keep your man here till I +return.” + +Now she brought this good news to the princess, and one need not say +how she rejoiced. And now a thought had come to her, and she was eager +to send a message to Alsi. + +“Surely,” she thought, “he does but threaten me with the kitchen knave, +that he may make me change my will. And, therefore, if I say that I am +ready to obey him, he will be pleased; and then time is gained at the +least, and it is not possible that he will choose so badly for me after +all.” + +So when the nurse asked her what she would do about getting the priest +to her presence, she said, “Go and tell my uncle first that I am +willing to obey him in the matter of which we spoke this morning.” + +“So that was what has troubled you after all, and not the dream? I +thought it should not have made all these tear marks,” said the nurse +quickly. “Now, why did you not tell me? I dare give Alsi a talking to +if he needs it.” + +“Nay, nurse, but it was the dream. My uncle and I did but disagree on +somewhat, and maybe I was wrong. By-and-by I will tell you.” + +“Tell me now, and then I shall know better how to ask for what you +need.” + +But Goldberga could not bring herself to say what Alsi had threatened, +and now felt sure that she would hear no more of that. So she told the +nurse that she had vowed only to marry a king, and that Alsi had been +angry, saying that kings were not so easily found. Also, that he was +the man who had to find her a husband. + +“That is the best sense that this king ever spoke,” said the nurse. +“Many a long year might you wait if you had your way thus. You are wise +in sending that message. Well, after that I will ask him to let you see +the priest, saying, if he is cross-grained, that a talk with him will +make your mind even better fitted to obey. Many things like that I can +say. We shall have him here presently.” + +Now, all that seemed very good to both of them, and the nurse went her +way. And when she came to Alsi, she gave the message plainly. + +“That will save a great deal of trouble,” said the king. “Tell her that +I am glad to hear it. She says this of her own accord, and not at your +advice?” + +“She told me before I had heard a word of what the trouble was between +you. It was no word of mine.” + +“I am glad of it. But I will say that I am somewhat surprised.” + +And that was true, for this message seemed to Alsi to be nothing more +or less than that Goldberga would marry his man. When he thought for a +moment, however, he saw that it could not be thus; and also, it was +plain to him what the poor girl had in her mind. And now he chuckled to +think what a weapon he had against her. Nor would he be slow to use it. + +Then the nurse said that he need have no surprise, for Goldberga was +ever gentle and willing to be led, though sometimes the pride of her +race came uppermost for a time. And then she asked if a certain priest +of the faith might come and speak with her. + +Now, Alsi knew that only one could be meant—namely, the hermit who +bided at Cabourn. He had heard of him often, and would not suffer him +to be hurt, for his sister Orwenna had protected him. The heathen +English minded him not at all by this time, for he was the best leech +in the land, and so useful to them. So Alsi said pleasantly that he was +quite willing that the priest should come, deeming that he was at +Cabourn, and that it would be a day or two before he would be brought. + +So he called the housecarl from outside the door, and when he came he +said, “Pass the word that when one who calls himself David comes and +asks for the princess, he is to be admitted to her.” + +So that was made easy, and the nurse thanked him and withdrew; and when +he was alone, Alsi grinned evilly and rubbed his hands. + +“Now is East Anglia mine in truth,” he said; and with that he bade the +housecarl fetch Curan, the cook’s porter, to him. And then he sent one +to Ragnar with such a message that he rode out that night and away to +Norwich. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. +THE FORTUNE OF CURAN THE PORTER. + + +While the nurse told Withelm to fetch the priest when Alsi was in the +hall that evening, the housecarl came for Havelok; and much wondering, +he followed the man to the king, and presently stood before him and +saluted. + +“Where did you get that salute?” said Alsi sharply, seeing at once that +it was not English; and, indeed, it was that of Gunnar’s courtmen. + +“I cannot tell,” answered my brother. “It seems to be there when +needed.” + +“Well, it is not that used here. Get the housecarls to teach you better +manners.” + +Then Havelok bowed a little, in token that he would do so; and when +Alsi spoke to him next it was in Welsh. + +“You are a marshman, as I hear?” + +Now Havelok had learned fairly well from the poor folk who loved him, +but carelessly, so that when he answered Alsi frowned at his way of +speaking. + +“I am from the marsh,” he said simply. + +“We had better get back to English!” the king said; “you people forget +your own tongue. Now, are you married?” + +Thereat Havelok laughed lightly. + +“That I am not,” he answered. + +“Well, then, if I find you a fair wife, you would be willing, +doubtless?” + +“That I should not,” answered Havelok bluntly, and wondering what this +crafty-looking king was driving at. “What could I do with a wife? For I +have neither house nor goods, nor where to take her, nor withal to keep +her; else had I not been the cook’s knave.” + +“It would seem that you carry all your fortune on your back, +therefore,” said Alsi, looking at Havelok’s gay attire with somewhat of +a sneer. + +“That may well be, King Alsi, for even these clothes are not my own. +Berthun gave them me, and I think that they come from yourself.” + +Alsi grinned, for Eglaf’s saying of him was not so far wrong; but he +had more serious business on hand than to talk of these things with a +churl. + +“Now, if I bid you, it is your part to obey. I have a wife for you, and +her you shall wed.” + +“There are two words to that, King Alsi. Neither will I wed against my +will, nor will I wed one who is unwilling.” + +“As to that first,” said the king, for he began to be angered with +Havelok’s boldness, “if a man will not do my bidding, I have dungeons +where he can have time to think things over, and men who can keep him +there, be he never so mighty; and if a man will not see with my eyes +when I bid him, blinded shall he be.” + +This he said somewhat hurriedly, for a dark flush came on the face of +the man before him, and he thought that he must try some other plan +than force with him. + +“And as for that other point, I did not so much as hint that the bride +was likely to be unwilling. I will say that she is willing, rather.” + +Now that troubled Havelok, for it seemed that all was arranged already, +and the thought of the dungeon was not pleasant. There was no doubt +that if the king chose he could cast him into one until he was +forgotten; and the light and the breath of the wind from the sea were +very dear to Havelok. So he thought that he would at least gain time by +seeming to listen to the proposal; for, after all, it might come to +nothing, and maybe it was but a jest, though a strange one. + +“Well, lord king,” he said, “if the bride knows enough of me to be +willing, it is but fair that I should have the like chance of choice.” + +Now Alsi thought that it was impossible that this churl, as he deemed +him, would not be overjoyed to hear of the match he had made for him, +and he must needs know it soon. Yet there was that about Havelok that +puzzled him, for his ways were not those of a churl, and he spoke as a +freeman should speak. + +So much the more likely that the people would believe him when he said +that Goldberga wedded him of her own wish, he thought. It was as well +that he was not altogether a common-seeming man. + +“You have seen the damsel already,” he said therefore. “Now I will not +say that this match is altogether of my choosing; but I have an oath to +keep, and it seems that I can only keep it by making you her husband. +But, as I say, she is willing, and, I will add, well dowered.” + +Now it grew plain to my brother that there was something strange in all +this, so he said, “An oath is a thing that must not be hindered in the +fulfilling, if a man can further it. But what has a king’s oath to do +with me?” + +“I have sworn to find her the goodliest and mightiest man alive; and, +though I must needs say it to your face, there is none like yourself. +No flattery this to bend you to my will, but sober truth—at least, as I +see it.” + +At that Havelok grew impatient. + +“Well, if that be so, who is the bride?” he asked, not caring to give +the king his title, or forgetting to do so, for on him was coming the +feeling that he was this man’s equal here in the palace. And at last, +not seeming to notice this, Alsi answered plainly. + +“The Princess Goldberga.” + +Then Havelok stared at him in blank wonder for some moments; and Alsi +grew red under his gaze, and his eyes were shifty, and would not meet +the honest look that was on him. + +Then at last said Havelok slowly, and watching the king intently all +the while, “What this means I cannot tell. If you speak truth, it is +wonderful; and if not, it is unkingly.” + +“On my word as a king, truth it is,” said Alsi hastily, for there was +that in Havelok’s face that he did not like. + +One might think that the king was growing afraid of his own kitchen +knave. + +“If that is so, there is no more to be said,” answered Havelok. “Yet +you will forgive me if I say that I must have this from the lips of the +princess herself as well. It may be that her mind will change.” + +“That is but fair,” answered Alsi; “and you are a wise man. The mind of +a damsel is unsteady, whether she be princess or milkmaid; but have no +fear.” + +“No man fear I; but I do fear to hurt any lady, and I would not do +that.” + +Then Alsi thought that all was well, and he spoke smooth words to my +brother, so that Havelok doubted him more than ever. Therefore it came +into his mind that all he could do for the best was to seem to agree, +and wait for what the princess herself said. And if Alsi was working +some subtlety, then he would wring his neck for him, if need be; and +after that—well, the housecarls would cut him in pieces, and he would +slay some of them, and so go to Valhalla, and dreams would be at an +end. And he would have died to some purpose here, for he knew that +Goldberga would come to her kingdom, ay, and maybe Alsi’s as well, for +she was his sister’s daughter, and his next of kin, and well loved by +those who had been allowed to know aught of her. + +But I would not have any think that the promise of so wondrous a bride +was not pleasing to him. It was more, for he had seen her grow white +and troubled as she looked on him, and he had seen her bear well +whatever pain had caused that; and he had known that in the one sight +he had of Goldberga somewhat had taught him what it was to have one +face unforgotten in his mind. + +So he said to Alsi, “All this fortune that you hold out to me is most +unlooked for, seeing what I am in your hall; and I have not thanked you +yet, King Alsi. That, however, is hard to do, as you may understand.” + +“I understand well enough,” answered the king, in high good humour +again, now that all seemed to be going well. “And after all, it is the +lady whom you must thank.” + +“But when shall I see her to do so?” + +“Tomorrow, surely; ay, tomorrow early shall you speak with her,” +answered the king quickly. “Now go, and hold your peace. Let me warn +you that there are those about the court who would go any lengths to +remove you from the face of the earth if they knew of this. Tell no man +of the honour that has come to you as yet. Be the porter for a short +time longer, and then you will be the man whom all envy. It is likely +that I must make you a thane, by right of the choice of the princess.” + +“I know well when to speak and when to keep silence, lord king,” said +my brother, and with that he bowed and left the hall. + +Then Alsi put his lips to a silver whistle that he carried, and blew a +call that brought Eglaf hurriedly to him from the outer door. + +“The guards may go,” said the king; “but see that the porter Curan +leaves not the palace until I myself send him forth tomorrow.” + +The captain saluted and went his way. He had had six men within call of +the king all the time that he spoke with Havelok, and one may make what +one likes of that. At least the threat of the dungeon was no idle one. + +Now went Havelok from the hall very heavy and troubled, for beyond the +fair talk of the king lurked surely some plan that was not fair at all. +It was not to be thought that he could not prevent, if he chose, a +foolish marriage of the princess, even did she desire it ever so much. +And my brother could not believe that she had set her heart on one whom +she had but seen once, and then in the midst of faintness. That, +however, might be known easily when he was face to face with her. It +was a thing that could not be made a matter of pretence. + +Now when he came back to the great kitchen, which was nigh as big as +the hall, Withelm was yet there, for the priest was at the widow’s, and +there was no haste to bring him; and by that time I had come in also, +and was sitting with him at the far end, where none had need to come. +It was Berthun’s own end, as one might say, and he was lord in his own +place. Only a few thralls were about, and the cook himself had gone +into the town. + +“Here is our brother,” I said, “and there is somewhat wrong.” + +He came moodily up to us, and sat him down, saying nothing, and he +leaned his head on his hands for a while. + +“What is amiss, brother?” said Withelm. + +“Wait,” he answered. “I will think before I speak.” + +I could see that this was not the old puzzlement, but something new and +heavy, so we held our peace. Long was he before he moved or spoke, and +when he did so it was wearily. + +“Well knew I that somewhat was to happen to me in this town, even as I +told you, brother, when we first passed its gates. And now it seems to +be coming to pass. For this is what is on me, as it seems to me—either +that I must see the light of day no more, or must live to be a scorn +and sorrow to one for whom it were meet that a man should die.” + +“Surely the black dream is on you, my brother! Neither of these things +can be for you!” I cried. + +“Would that it were the dream, for that is not all of sorrow, and that +also is of things so long past that they are forgotten. I can bear +that, for your voice always drives it away. But now the hand of Alsi +the king is on me for some ill of his own—” + +“Stay,” said Withelm. “Let us go out and speak, if that name is to be +heard. It were safer.” + +“Less safe, brother,” answered Havelok. “At once we should be kept +apart. Listen, and I will tell you all, and then say your say.” + +Then he told us, word for word, all that had just passed between him +and the king. And as we listened, it grew on us that here was no wrong +to the princess, but rather the beginning of honour. I could see the +downfall that was in store for Alsi, and I thought also that I saw hope +for the winning back of the Danish kingdom, with an East Anglian host +to back us. And this also saw Withelm, and his eyes sparkled. But +Havelok knew not yet all that had grown so plain to us. + +He ended, and we said nothing for a moment. + +“Well?” he said, not looking up, but with eyes that sought the floor, +as if ashamed. + +“By Odin,” said I, speaking the thought that was uppermost, “here will +be a downfall for Alsi!” + +“Ay, you are right, brother. I will not wed her.” + +But that was by no means what I meant, as may be known; and now Withelm +held up a warning hand to me, and I knew that his advice was always +best. + +“If the maiden is unwilling, wed her not,” he said. “If she is willing, +even as the king said, that is another matter. We have no reason to +doubt his word as yet.” + +“You saw not his face as he spoke. And then, how should the princess +think of me?” + +“Who knows? Even Odin owned that the minds of maids were hard to +fathom. But one may find a reason or two. Maybe that oath has somewhat +to do with it. A good daughter will go far to carry out her father’s +will, and, in the plain sense thereof, she will certainly do it thus. +Then it is likely that she knows that you are no churl, but the son of +Grim, though we have fallen on hard times for a while. I have heard say +that it is the custom here that a man who has crossed the seas in his +own ship so many times is a thane by right of that hardihood. Thane’s +son, therefore, might we call you. Then there is the jealousy of every +other thane, if she chooses an East Anglian. Then she needs one who +shall be mighty to lead her forces. Even the greatest thane will be +content to follow a man who is a warrior of warriors. Ragnar can have +told her what you are in that way. Faith, brother, there are reasons +enough.” + +Havelok laughed a short laugh at all this, and he grew brighter. There +was sense in Withelm’s words, if they would not bear looking deeply +into. + +Then I said, adding to these words, “Moreover, Alsi could stop the +whole foolishness of his niece if he did not think it a fitting match +in some way.” + +“So he could,” answered Havelok. “But yet—I tell you that there was +naught but evil in his face. Why did he try to force me?” + +Then he went back to the thing that weighed mostly on his noble +heart—the thought that he was unworthy altogether. + +“I fear that the princess does but think of me because she must. It is +in my mind that Alsi may have threatened her also until she has +consented. How shall I know this?” + +“Most easily, as she speaks with you,” answered Withelm. “Tomorrow will +tell you that. And then, if you find things thus, what shall prevent +your flying?” + +“Brother Radbard and the other housecarls,” said Havelok grimly. + +“Not if you ask the princess to help you out of her own way by +pretending to be most willing. If Alsi thinks you a gladsome couple, +there is no difficulty. You walk out of the palace as a master there. +Then you fly to Ragnar. That is all.” + +Now that was such an easy way out of the whole coil that we planned it +out. And yet it seemed to me that it was a pity that Havelok knew not +more of what seemed to us so sure now. So, seeing that things were +fairly straightened by this last thought, I got up and said that I must +be going, making a sign to Withelm to come also; and, with a few more +words, we went out. I saw Havelok set himself to a mighty task of water +drawing as I looked back. + +“Now,” said I, “here is a strange affair with a vengeance. Neither head +nor tail can I make of it. But if all we think is right, this is the +marriage for the son of Gunnar.” + +“Son of Gunnar, or son of Grim,” said Withelm, “princess or not, happy +is the maiden who gains Havelok for a husband. Maybe her woman’s wit +has told her so. She will have many suitors whom she knows to be +seeking her throne only, and to him she gives it as a gift unsought.” + +“That is all beyond me,” I said; “but he would fill a throne well. But +his own modesty in the matter of his worthiness is likely to stand in +the way. Why should we not tell him all that we know? Then he will feel +that he is doing no wrong.” + +“Because we are not sure, and because it is not for us to choose the +time. I have sent for Arngeir this morning, as we said would be well +last night. If the princess is unwilling, there are many things that +may be said; and if not, there must be many days before the wedding; +and, ere the day, Havelok may feel that he is her equal in birth at +least, if we are not wrong. But since I have waited here, Mord has told +me the dream that has troubled the princess, that I may tell the +priest, so that he can think it over. She has dreamed that she is to +wed a man who shall be king both in Denmark and England, and she saw +the man, moreover. Strangely like Havelok’s dream is that. Now what +else made her turn faint but that this vision was like Havelok? And +does not that make it possible that she wishes to wed him? Therefore I +am going to tell the priest the story of Havelok, so far as I know it.” + +“Well thought of. Tell him this also, for now I may surely tell you +what you have not yet heard thereof.” + +So I told him how Grim and I had taken Havelok from Hodulf, and then he +was the more certain that we had saved the son of our king. + +Now we thought that we had got to the bottom of the whole matter of the +wedding. Of course the dream had all to do with the fainting, but +nothing to do with the supposed wish. But we did not know that. + +“Speak not of Gunnar by name, however,” I said; “he was a terror to +Christian folk. The priest is likely to hinder the marriage with all +his might else.” + +Withelm flushed as he had when he first spoke of the priest to me. + +“I think not, brother; for he knows Havelok well, and loves him.” + +“So,” said I shortly, “he hopes to make him a Christian, doubtless.” + +“I think that he will do so, if he has a Christian wife to help.” + +“That would not suit Havelok,” I said, laughing. + +“Nay, but such a mind as his it seems to suit well already, though he +has not heard much.” + +“Why, then,” said I, wondering, “if it suits our best and bravest, it +must be a wondrous faith. It seems strange, however; but I know naught +of it. What is good for him and you, my brother, is sure to be best.” + +“I feared that you would be angry.” + +“Nay, but with you and Havelok? How should that be? Why, if you two +said that we must turn Christian, I should hold it right; so would +Raven. I suppose that I go to the Ve[11] because you do.” + +Now I troubled no more about the matter, being nothing but a sea dog +who could use a weapon. And now I said that I was going to Eglaf to say +that I might have to leave him at any time for home, in case we had to +fly with Havelok. So Withelm went his way to the old priest with a +light heart, and I to the captain. + +“Well,” said Eglaf, “this is about what I expected when your brother +came. Good it has been to have you here; and I think that I shall see +you as a housecarl for good yet. When do you go?” + +“The first time that I do not turn up on guard I am gone, not till +then.” + +“Come and drink a farewell cup first.” + +“I shall be in a great hurry if I do not do that,” I answered, +laughing. + +But it was my thought that maybe when once my back was turned on the +town, I should not have time to think of going near King Alsi’s guard. + +Then I went to find Ragnar the earl, for we thought it well that he +should know what was on hand. But when I came to the house of the thane +with whom he was quartered, they told me that he had gone hastily with +all his men, for word had come of some rising in his land that must be +seen to at once. That was bad; and as one must find a reason for +everything, I thought that the going of Griffin had much to do with the +outbreak. There I was wrong, as I found later. But then, too, I knew +that the craft of Alsi was at work in this message. He had his own +reasons for wishing the earl out of the way. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. +A STRANGEST WEDDING. + + +Long spoke Withelm and the priest David together, until it was time for +them to seek the palace; and when they came there, they spoke to Mord +also. Then David thought it was well to say naught to Havelok until +more was learned from Goldberga herself, for he would soon see how +things stood with her. Then he would see Withelm again, and they would +plan together for the best. So Withelm waited for the return of the +priest, whom Mord took to his mistress. Alsi and his men were supping +in the hall, but Goldberga was waiting in her own chamber. + +Now the princess thought that, after her message to the king, she would +hear no more of the kitchen knave, and so was happier. But all the +while she pondered over her dream the thought of Havelok must needs +come into it, and that was troublesome. Nevertheless, it was not to be +helped, seeing that there was no doubt at all that he and the man of +the vision were like to each other as ever were twins. Wherefore if the +thought of one must be pleasant so at last must be that of the other. +And then came the nurse with tales of what Berthun thought of this man +of his—how that he was surely a wandering prince, with a vow of service +on him, like Gareth of the Round Table in the days of Arthur. + +So presently it seemed to the princess that the churl was gone, as it +were, and in his place was a wandering atheling, at least, who was not +a terror at all. Then at length the slow time wore away until Mord came +with David the priest. + +No priestly garb had the old man on, for that had made his danger +certain; but though he was clad in a thrall’s rough dress, he was not +to be mistaken for aught but a most reverend man. + +“Peace be with you, my daughter,” he said; “it is good to look on the +child of Orwenna, the queen whom we loved.” + +Then the chamberlain left those two alone, and at once Goldberga told +the priest why she had asked him to run the risk of coming to her, for +there is no doubt that he was in peril, though not from Alsi himself. + +At first she asked him many things about her mother, and learned much +of her goodness to the poor folk, and of their love to her; and +presently, when she grew more sure of the kindness and seeming wisdom +of the priest, she told him all her dream, adding no thoughts of her +own, as she mistrusted them. + +Then said David, “There seems naught but good in this, and it is not +hard to unravel. I think that all shall come to pass even as it was +told you.” + +“I feared the heathen ways of the place, and thought that it might be +some snare of the old gods,” said Goldberga. + +But David told her that they could have no power on her, and asked her +if the king knew of the vision, that being one thing of which he was +not sure; and when he found that he did not, the whole affair seemed +more strange than before. + +But now the princess asked him, “Plain were the words that I heard, hut +what meant the light as of a sunbeam that came from the mouth of the +man of the vision?” + +“That surely means that in word and in heart and in all else the man +shall be kingly altogether, so that there shall be no mistaking the +same; and it may also mean that you shall know the man at once when you +see him.” + +At that Goldberga grew pale and red by turns, so that David, quick to +read the thoughts of those who came to him for help, asked if she had +seen anyone who she thought must be meant, not at all knowing that she +must needs say that this was Curan. + +Not at all willingly did she tell him this; but she did so, adding at +last that Alsi had threatened to wed her to this man. + +Now it was plain to David that all was pulling the same way, for surely +Alsi wrought, unknowing, for the fulfilling of the dream; and all +seemed to prove that Havelok was the son of the Danish king, and that +he would win back his kingdom. Then he found out that the princess had +no knowledge that the king had spoken to Havelok, but it did not seem +to be needful that he should tell her that he had done so. That would +be told by Alsi himself if he meant, as seemed certain, to carry out +his threat. So he thought awhile, and at last he saw what he might do +without saying anything to bend the choice of the princess in any way. + +“It will soon be plain in what way the dream shall be fulfilled,” he +said; “and this is certain, that you shall be wedded to none but the +right man, else had it not been sent. Have no fear, therefore, even as +it was bidden you.” + +Then the princess said that the only thing which troubled her was the +fear lest Alsi should yet force her to wed this one who was so like him +she had seen in her dream. + +“That,” said the priest, “is doubtless the most strange part of the +whole matter, yet I think that even thus there need be no fear. I will +tell you now that I know this one who is called Curan well, and I, and +all who know him, love him. Truly he is not a Christian, but he is no +hater of the faith, and that is much in these days. Nor is he a churl, +but rather one of the most noble of men. It is certain that, whatever +Alsi might wish, he would not wed you against your will. He has but to +know your thoughts in order to help you in any way. But I must also +tell you this, that he is a Dane, who fled from his land when he was a +child; and it is thought that he is the son of the Danish king, who was +slain at the time when Mord, your servant, fled also. He came to +England in the same ship as did Mord, who can tell you more of him. It +is certain that there is a secret about his birth, and the one who +knows that secret is not far off. If need is, we can learn it, for +there was a set time for its telling, and maybe this is it. Now, if it +is true that he is the son of the Danish king, it does seem as if your +dream might be bidding you to have no fear of what seems doubtful in +the matter, though I cannot tell, and do not like to say so for +certain. His name is not Curan, but Havelok.” + +Then Goldberga said, “I have heard of that flight and of the wreck from +Mord often. He was wont to tell me of the child, and of the lady who +was drowned, and he said that he thought him the king’s son.” + +After that she was greatly cheered, for the worst of the trouble seemed +to be over and gone. It was in her mind now that Alsi knew who Havelok +was, and that he tried her, for she was not one to think ill of any. + +So she let the priest go, with many thanks, saying, “Now I know that +whatever happens is the will of Heaven, and must be for the best. I am +ready for whatever shall befall.” + +Now I do not know what had seemed good to Alsi, for he had changed his +mind concerning David’s visit to Goldberga, and had suddenly given +orders that if he came he was to be put in ward at once. So Mord met +the old man as he left the chamber, and told him that he must fly; and +after that Withelm took him away in the dusk, for none hindered his +going, and went to the widow’s with him, hearing all that had been +said; and that which they thought was even as Goldberga had said, that +all must needs be for the best. In a day or two all would he plain, for +Arngeir would have come. So Withelm sent forth the old man to his own +place with a good store of food, going with him for some miles, and +promising him help for coming days until the dearth was ended. + +Now into the palace none might come after the feast was set; and all +this time I was on guard, for there were double posts round the place, +by reason of Alsi’s fear of the attackers of the princess, as was said. +So it happened that neither of us saw Havelok until next morning; and +now I have to tell how we saw him, and what happened with the first +sunlight, when men were thinking of breaking their fast. + +We of the housecarls took that first meal of the day in the great +hall—so many of us, that is, who were not on duty; and when we had nigh +finished, Alsi would come in and seat himself on the high place, where +Eglaf and half a dozen other thanes sat also at times when there was no +special state to be kept. + +I was early this morning, having just taken my spell of watching at the +gate, and being, therefore, free for the rest of the day, and I was +hungry with the sweet air of the July weather and the freshness that +comes with sunrise. So I was not altogether pleased to see that there +was seemingly some new affair of state on hand, while the breakfast was +not yet set out by reason of preparations that were going on where the +king’s chair was wont to stand. There was Berthun, looking puzzled and +by no means pleased, and his men were busy setting out benches on the +high place, of a sort that were not those that were wont to be there, +in three sides of a square, the open side facing the hall. One bench +made each side, and all three were carved from back rail to clawed feet +wondrously. Old they seemed also. Then, too, instead of the sweet +sedges that strewed the high place, men had spread a cloth of bright +hues underfoot there, and the sedges had been swept among the rushes of +the lower places. All this was so strange that I went forward, and when +I had a chance I asked the steward what was on hand. + +“If you know not, master housecarl, no more do I. ‘Justice to be done,’ +says the king, and so I suppose that you have some notable prisoner in +ward—maybe the leader of those villains who scared our fair princess.” + +“But we had taken no man, and I will say that we had wondered that we +had not been sent out to hunt those people, instead of biding to see if +they came to trouble us here.” + +“Why, then,” said Berthun, “some thane must be bringing a captive +shortly. But why Alsi orders these benches, it passes me to make out. +They are those that have been used for the weddings of his kin since +the days of Hengist. Last time was when Orwenna, his sister, wedded +Ethelwald of Norfolk. Maybe he thinks that they need airing.” + +He laughed and went on directing his men; but knowing what I knew, I +wondered what it all might mean, for there was one wedding that I could +not help thinking of. + +Presently the hall began to fill as men came in, and every one had +somewhat to say, and all marvelled at this that was going on. Then +Berthun came and beckoned to me, for I must fetch Eglaf the captain at +once, as the king had need of him, in haste. Then Eglaf hurried to the +hall; and after a word or two with Alsi, the horns were blown outside +the hall door to call every man of the guard to the place. And when +they came, we were all set round the wall as if guarding all that were +in it. But there were none but the folk of the palace to guard, and +they were wondering as were we; and when that was done, and the click +and rattle of arms as we moved to our places was ended, there was a +silence on all—the silence of men who wait for somewhat to happen. + +Now Berthun went to the door on the high place, as he was wont when all +was ready for the king’s presence, and the hush deepened, none knowing +what they expected to see. + +Forth came Berthun backward, as was the custom, and he turned aside to +let the king pass him. His face was red and angry, as I thought, but +amazed also. I was standing next to Eglaf, and he was at the foot of +the dais, at the end of his line of men, so that I could see all +plainly. + +Then came Alsi, leading the princess, and after Goldberga came her +nurse. No other ladies were with her; and now I noticed that there was +not one thane on the high place, which was strange, and the first time +that such a thing had been since I came here. I looked down the hall, +and none were present. Now I looked at Alsi; and on his pale face was a +smile that might have been as of one who will be glad, though he does +not feel so. But the eyes of the princess were bright with tears, and +hardly did she look from the floor. Hers was a face to make one sad to +see at that time, wondrously beautiful as it was. + +Alsi led her by the hand, and set her on the bench that was to his +left, and signed to the nurse to sit beside her, which the old lady +did, bridling and looking with scorn at the king as she took her place. +There she sought the hand of the princess, and held it tightly, as in +comforting wise. Very rich garments had the nurse, but Goldberga was +dressed in some plain robe of white that shone when the light caught +it. Mostly I do not see these things, but now I wished that she always +wore that same. + +As for Alsi, he had on his finest gear, even as at the great feast of +the Witan—crimson cloak, fur-lined, and dark-green hose, gold-gartered +across, and white and gold tunic. He had a little crown on also, and +that was the only thing kingly about him, to my mind. + +Now he cast one look at Goldberga, which made her shrink into herself, +as it were, and turned with a smile to us all. + +“Friends,” he said, “this is short notice for a wedding, but all men +know that ‘Happy is the wooing that is not long a-doing,’ so no more +need be said of that. All men know also that when good Ethelwald died +he made me swear to him that I would wed his daughter to the mightiest +and goodliest and fairest man that was in the land. I have ever been +mindful of that oath, and now it seems that the time for keeping it has +come. Whether the man whom my niece will wed is all that the oath +requires, you shall judge; and if he is such a one, I must not stand in +the way. I do not myself know that I have ever seen one who is so fully +set forth in words as is this bridegroom in those of the oath.” + +Now I heard one whisper near me, “Whom has Goldberga chosen?” + +And that was what Alsi would have liked to hear, for his speech seemed +to say that thus it was, and maybe that he did not altogether like the +choice. + +But now Alsi said to Berthun, “Bring in the bridegroom.” + +“Whom shall I bring, lord?” the steward asked in blank wonder, and Alsi +whispered his answer. + +At that Berthun’s hands flew up, and his mouth opened, and he did not +stir. + +“Go, fool,” said Alsi, and I thought that he would have stamped his +foot. + +Now I knew who was meant in a moment, and even as the steward took his +first step from off the dais to go down the hail to his own entrance, I +said to Eglaf, “Here is an end to my service with you. My time is up.” + +“Why, what is amiss?” + +“The bridegroom is my brother—that is all; and I must be free to serve +him as I may.” + +“Well, if that is so, you are in luck. But I do not think that either +of Grim’s sons can be the man. Big enough are you, certainly, but +goodly? Nay, but that red head of yours spoils you.” + +I daresay that he would have said more about Raven and Withelm, for a +talk was going round; but a hush came suddenly, and then a strange +murmur of stifled wonder, for Havelok came into the hall after Berthun, +and all eyes were turned to him. + +Now I saw my brother smile as he came, seeing someone whom he liked +first of all; and then he looked up the hall, and at once his face +became ashy pale, for he saw what was to be done. Yet he went on +firmly, looking neither to right nor left, until he came to the high +place. There he caught my eye, and I made a little sign to him to show +that I knew his trouble. + +They came to the step, and Berthun stood aside to let Havelok pass, and +then Alsi held out his hand to raise my brother to the high place. But +Havelok seemed not to see that, stepping up by himself as the king bade +him come. Then the women who were in the hall spoke to one another in a +murmur that seemed of praise; but whiter and more white grew the +princess, so that I feared that she would faint. But she did not; and +presently there seemed to come into her eyes some brave resolve, and +she was herself again, looking from Alsi to Havelok, and again at Alsi. + +Now, too, the king looked at him up and down, as one who measures his +man before a fight. And when he met Havelok’s eyes he grew red, and +turned away to the folk below him. + +“So, friends,” he cried, “what say you? Am I true to the words of my +oath in allowing this marriage?” + +There was not one there who did not know Havelok, whom they called +Curan; and though all thought these doings strange, there was a hum of +assent, for the oath said naught of the station in life of the +bridegroom. Good King Ethelwald had been too trustful. + +“That is well,” said Alsi, with a grave face. “All here will bear +witness that this was not done without counsel taken. Now, let the +bridegroom sit in his place here to my right.” + +He waved his hand, and Havelok sat down on the bench that faced +Goldberga; and now he looked long at her with a look that seemed to be +questioning. Alsi was going to his seat in the cross bench, where the +parents of the couple are wont to sit at a wedding while the vows are +made, but he seemed to bethink himself. It is my belief that he said +what he did in order to shame both Havelok and Goldberga. + +“Why, it is not seemly that the bridegroom should sit alone without one +to be by him. Where are your friends, Curan?” + +At that Alsi met with more than he bargained for. At once Berthun came +forward, and forth came I, and without a word we sat one on each side +of him. There were others who would have come also, for I saw even +Eglaf take a step towards the high place, had we not done so. + +Alsi’s face became black at that, for here was not the friendless churl +he was scoffing at. But he tried to smile, as if pleased. + +“Why, this is well,” he said. “Good it is to see a master helping his +man, and a soldier ready to back a comrade of a sort. Now we have +witnesses. Let us go on with the wedding.” + +Now the golden loving cup that was used at the feasts had been filled +and set at a little side table that stood there, and it was to be the +bride cup that should be drunk between the twain when all was settled. +So Alsi took this cup and held it, while he sat in the place of the +father of the bride. Now, I knew nothing of what should he done, but +Berthun did so, and well he took my brother’s part, having undertaken +for him thus. + +“It is the custom,” said Alsi, “that the bridegroom should state what +he sets forth of the dowry to the bride.” + +Whereat Berthun, without hesitation, spoke hastily to Havelok, and told +him to let him answer, meaning, as I have not the least doubt, to +promise all that he had saved in long years of service. But Havelok +smiled a little, and set his hand to his neck, and I remembered one +thing that he had—a ring which had always hung on a cord under his +jerkin since he came to Grimsby, and which my father had bidden him +keep ever. + +“This give I,” he said, setting it on the floor at his feet, “and with +it all that I am, and all that I shall hereafter be, and all that shall +be mine at any time.” + +Alsi looked at the ring as it flashed before him, and his face changed. +No such jewel had he in all his treasures, for it was of dwarf work in +gold, set with a deep crimson stone that was like the setting sun for +brightness. I do not know whence these stones came, unless it were from +the East. Eleyn the queen, his mother, was thence, and I know now that +the ring was hers. But I think that when Alsi saw this he half repented +of the match, though he had gone too far now to draw back. So he bowed, +and said that it was well, as he would have said had there been nothing +forthcoming. + +Then Berthun, in his turn, asked for the bridegroom that the dowry of +the bride should be stated for all to hear. + +“The wealth left my niece by her father,” said Alsi. “The matter of the +kingdom is for the Witan of the East Anglians to settle.” + +Then came from out the king’s chamber two men bearing bags of gold, and +that was set before the princess. It was a noble dowry, and honest was +the king in this matter at least. + +Now were the vows to be said and the bride cup to be drunk, and that +was the hardest part of all to Havelok. + +Slowly he rose as the king held it out to him, and he took it from his +hand and stood before Goldberga; and she, too, rose and faced him, and +for a moment they stood thus, surely the most handsome couple that had +ever been. + +Then Havelok said, looking in the clear eyes of the princess, “This +have I sworn, that I will wed no unwilling bride. It is but for you to +say one word, and the cup falls, and all is ended.” + +Alsi started at that, and I thought he was going to speak, but he held +his peace. Still as a rock was Havelok while he waited for the answer, +and the folk in the hall were as still as he. They began to see that +all was not right as the king would have it thought. + +Once the princess looked at Alsi, and that with pride in her face, and +then she looked long and steadfastly at Havelok, and one by one his +fingers loosened themselves on the golden stem of the cup, that she +might know him ready for her word. + +Then she put forth her hand and closed it round his strong fingers, +that he must hold it fast by her doing, and that was all that was +needed. It was more than words could have told. And she smiled as she +did it. + +And at that a light came on Havelok’s face, and he smiled gravely back +at her, and he said in a low voice that shook a little, “May the gods +so treat me as I treat you, my princess. Can it be that you will trust +me thus?” + +She answered in no words, but I saw her hand tighten over his, and her +eyes never left his face. + +Then Havelok raised his other hand, and took that of Goldberga, which +was on the cup, and faced to the people. + +“Thus do I pledge her who shall be henceforward my wife through good +and ill; and may Odin, Freya, and Niord be witnesses of my oath of +faith to her in all that the word may mean.” + +So he drank, and I stole a glance at the king. Never saw I a man so +amazed, for to him the Danish names of the Asir had come as some sort +of a shock, seeing that he had deemed this man, with the name of Curan, +a Briton. And he looked at Berthun with a look that seemed to say more +than was likely to be pleasant by-and-by. But the steward paid no heed +to him. + +Now Havelok had made his vow, and he gave the cup to the princess; and +she, too, turned a little toward the people, but still she looked on +Havelok. + +“Faith shall answer to faith,” she said in a clear voice. “Here do I +take this man for my husband, in the sight of God, and with you all as +witnesses, and I pray that the blessing of Him may be on us both.” + +So she drank also, and Havelok stopped and raised the wondrous ring +from where it had been unheeded on the floor, and took the band of +Goldberga, and set it on her finger, and kissed the hand ere he let it +go. + +But Goldberga lifted her face toward him, and he bent and kissed her +forehead, and so they were wedded. + +I have heard men scoff at the thought of love at first sight, but never +can any one of us do so who saw this wedding. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. +HOW THE BRIDE WENT HOME. + + +Now the folk cheered, and loudest of all honest Eglaf and his warriors. +I wondered what should come next, for neither feast nor bride ale was +prepared, and Berthun was looking puzzled. Then I saw that the only +face in all the wide hall which was not bright was that of Alsi, and +his brow was black as a thunder cloud, while his fingers were white +with the force with which he clutched and twisted the end of his +jewelled belt. Plainly he was in a royal rage that none had scoffed at +this wedding, but that all had taken it as a matter that was right +altogether. + +But he had one more evil thing in his mind that must be seen through; +and he came forward, smoothing his face, as best he might, to the fixed +smile that I had seen when he spoke with Ragnar, and learned that his +first plot had miscarried. + +“Now, friends,” he said, “all this has been so hasty that we have +prepared no feast. Even now, it seems that the horses stand at the door +to take bride and bridegroom hence, and doubtless there waits somewhere +the feast that has been bespoken without my knowledge. Well, strange +are the ways of lovers, and we will pardon them. I have therefore only +to bid them farewell.” + +With that he turned to Havelok, and held out his hand, as in all good +fellowship, but Havelok would not see it. + +“Fare as it shall be meted to you by the Asir, King Alsi,” he said, +“for at least Loki loves craft.” + +Then he turned to me, and asked hurriedly where we should go if we must +leave thus. + +“To Grimsby,” I said. “That is home.” + +Alsi spoke to the princess now, and maybe it was as well that he did +not offer so much as his hand. Wise was he in his way. + +“Farewell, niece,” he said; “all this shall come shortly before the +Witan of Ethelwald’s folk.” + +“Farewell, uncle,” she answered calmly. “That is a matter which I will +see to myself. You have carried out your oath to the letter, so far, +and now it remains that you should leave the government of the realm to +me.” + +With that she put her hand on Havelok’s arm. + +“Come, husband; we have heard that the horses wait. Let us be gone.” + +And then in a quick whisper she added, as if nigh overdone, “Take me +hence quickly, for I may not bear more.” + +They wasted no more words; and through a lane of folk, who blessed +them, those two went to the great door down the long hall, and I +followed, and Berthun and the nurse came after me. One flung the door +open; and on the steps, all unaware of what had happened, lounged Mord, +waiting, and up and down on the green the grooms led the horses of the +princess—six in all. On two were packed her goods, and the third had a +pack saddle that waited for the bags that held her dowry. The other +three were for herself and Mord and the nurse. There was not one for +Havelok. + +“This is hasty, my princess,” Mord said. “Whither are we bound?” + +“For Grimsby, Mord,” I answered quickly. “Are there no more horses to +be had?” + +“Never a one, unless we steal from the king,” he answered. + +The people were crowding out now that they might see the start, and I +saw Berthun speak to a man among them who was a stranger to me. And +from him he turned directly with a glad face. + +“Go down to such a hostelry,” he said to me, “and there ask for what +horses you will. Maybe I shall have to follow you for my part in this +matter—that is, if I am not put in the dungeon.” + +“Faith,” I answered, “better had you come with us than run that risk. +Alsi is in a bad mood.” + +He shook his head; and then the people behind him made way, for the +king was coming. + +“Almost had you forgotten this,” he said; “and I think you will want +it.” + +The men with the money were there, and he waved his hand to them. +Havelok lifted the princess to her horse without heeding him, and the +men set the bags on the pack horses. + +“See the bridegroom down the street, you who were his witnesses,” the +king went on, with a curling lip; “and if you are a wise man, master +Berthun, you will not come back again.” + +Berthun bowed and went into the hail, past the king, and across to his +own door, without a word. After him the thronging people closed up, and +though I thought that a housecarl would have been sent to see what he +was about, this would have made an open talk, and Alsi forbore. + +“Let Havelok take your horse, Mord,” I whispered to him; “I will tell +you why directly.” + +He nodded, and I told Havelok to mount. Then I helped up the nurse, who +wept and muttered to herself; and so we started, Alsi standing on the +steps with words of feigned goodspeed as we did so. + +But the housecarls and the people shouted with wishes that were real, +no doubt thinking that we were bound for the far-off kingdom of the +prince who had won Goldberga by service as a kitchen knave in her +uncle’s hall for very love of her. + +Directly we were outside the gate that leads down the hill, I saw +Withelm, who was there waiting for me, and he knew at once what had +happened. + +He came to my side, and asked only, “Already?” + +“Already,” I answered; “but it is well. Go to the widow’s straightway, +and bring Havelok’s arms to him at the hostelry at the end of the +marketplace, where we have to find more horses.” + +He went at once, and silently we came down the street and to the +courtyard of the inn. Some few folk stared at us; but the princess was +hardly known here, and she had cast her long, white mantle hoodwise +over her head and face, so that one could not tell who she was. So +early in the day there were few people in the marketplace either. + +Berthun was in the courtyard of the inn, and I was glad to see him, for +I did not know what would happen to him. It was likely that Alsi would +seek for someone on whom to visit his anger at the way things had gone. +But the steward had been warned, and was not one to run any risk. + +“I did but go back for a few things that I did not care to leave,” he +said; and he showed me that he had brought his own horse from the +stables, and on it were large saddlebags. No poor man was Berthun after +years of service in the palace, where gifts from thane and lady are +always ready for the man who has had the care of them. Across the +saddle bow also were his mail shirt and arms, and his shield hung with +his helm from the peak. + +“You see that I must needs cast in my lot with yours, or rather +Curan’s,” he said, laughing; “but it is in my mind that in the end I +shall not be sorry to have done so. I think that I am tired of the +fireside, and want adventure for a while.” + +“Well,” I answered, “you are likely to have them, and that shortly, if +I am not mistaken; but we shall see. Now about these horses, for we had +better get out of Lincoln as soon as we may.” + +The man he had spoken with was a merchant, who came yearly, and was a +friend of his. He had more horses than he meant to keep, as he had here +each year; for every one knows that a horse can always be sold in +Lincoln, and they were good ones. Then my gold came in well, and I +bought three, one for each of us brothers. I daresay that I paid dearly +for them, but there was no time for haggling in the way that a horse +dealer loves. Out of the way of Alsi we must get, before he bethought +him of more crafty devices. And I thought, moreover, that we should be +riding towards East Anglia shortly, and it was not everywhere that a +steed fit to carry Havelok on a long journey was to be had. + +I had bidden him leave all this to me as we came down the hill, and +glad he was to do so. Now he had dismounted, and stood by the side of +the princess, speaking earnestly to her. It was plain that what he said +was pleasant to her also. But we left them apart, as one might suppose. + +Now came a warrior into the courtyard, and he bore more arms. It was +Withelm, who had borrowed the gear of the widow’s dead husband, that he +might be ready for whatever might happen: and it was good to see +Havelok’s eyes grow bright as he spied the well-known weapons that his +brother had in his arms. He said one word to Goldberga, and then came +to us. + +“Let me get into war gear at once,” he said, laughing in a way that +lightened my heart. “I shall not feel that I have shaken off service to +Alsi until I have done so.” + +And then he saw Berthun here for the first time. + +“Nay, but here is my master,” he added. “And I will say that I owe him +much for his kindness.” + +“Now the kindness shall be on your part, if any was on mine. Take me +into your service, I pray you, henceforward.” + +“Good friend of mine,” said Havelok, “naught have I to offer you. And +how should one serve me?” + +“With heart and hand and head, neither more nor less,” answered +Berthun. “I have seen you serve, and now will see you command. Let me +bide with you, my master, at least, giving you such service as I may.” + +“Such help as you may, rather. For now we all serve the princess,” +Havelok said. + +And with that Berthun was well content for the time. + +“Well, then,” said I, “see to Havelok’s arms, while we get the horses +ready, for I want Withelm here.” + +So Havelok and his new man went into the house with his arms, and then +I saw Goldberga beckoning to us. It was the first time that I had +spoken to her, and I think that I was frightened, if that is what they +call the feeling that makes one wish to be elsewhere. But there was +nothing to fear in the sweet face that she turned to us. + +“Brothers,” she said, “Havelok tells me that it was one of you who +brought David the priest to me. I do not rightly know yet which is +Withelm.” + +With that she smiled and blushed a little, and I stood, helm in hand, +stupidly enough. But my brother was more ready. + +“I am Withelm, my princess—” he began. + +“Nay; but ‘sister’ it shall be between me and my husband’s brothers. +Now, brother Withelm, there is one thing that is next my heart, and in +it I know you will help me.” + +There she wavered for a moment, and then went on bravely. + +“Christian am I, and I do not think that we are rightly wedded until +the priest has done his part. And to that Havelok agrees most +willingly, saying that I must ask you thereof, for he does not know +where the old man is now.” + +“Wedded in the little chapel that is in the thick of Cabourn woods +shall you be, for David has gone there already. We can ride and find +him before many hours are over, sweet lady of ours.” + +She thanked him in few words, and with much content. + +Then came forth from the house Havelok, in the arms that suited him so +well—golden, shining mail shirt of hard bronze scales, and steel, +horned helm, plain and strong, and girt with sword and seax, and with +axe and shield slung over shoulder, as noble a warrior surely as was in +all England, ay, or in the Northlands that gave him birth either; and +what wonder that the eyes of the princess glowed with a new pride as +she looked at her mighty husband? + +But Mord almost shouted when he saw him come thus, and to me he said, + +“It is Gunnar—Gunnar, I tell you—come back from Asgard to help my +princess.” + +“Wait till we get to Grimsby, and Arngeir will make all clear,” I said. +“Get into your arms, and we will start. All is ready now.” + +We did not wait for Mord, but mounted and rode out, and the princess +looked round at us as she rode first beside Havelok, and said, “Never +have I ridden so well attended, as I think.” + +And from beside me, with broad face from under his helm, Berthun +answered for us all, “Never with men so ready to die for you, at least, +my mistress.” + +And that was true. + +Half a mile out of the town we rode at a quick trot, and then thundered +Mord after us, and his hurry surely meant something. I reined up and +waited for him. + +“What is the hurry, Mord?” said I. + +“Maybe it is nothing, and maybe it is much,” he answered; “but Griffin +of Chester has gone up to the palace, for I saw him. He has his arm in +a sling, and his face looks as if it had been trodden on. Now Alsi will +tell him all this, and if we are not followed I am mistaken. He would +think nothing of wiping out our party to take the princess, and Alsi +will not mind if he does. How shall we give him the slip?” + +Withelm rode with his chin over his shoulder, and I beckoned him and +told him this. Not long was his quick wit in seeing a way out of what +might be a danger. + +“Let us ride on quickly down the Ermin Street, and he will think us +making for the south and Norwich. Then we will turn off to Cabourn, and +he will lose us. After that he may hear that some of us belong to +Grimsby, and will go there; but he will be too late to hurt us. Hard +men are our fishers, and they would fight for Havelok and the sons of +Grim.” + +So we did that, riding down the old Roman way to a wide, waste forest +land where none should see us turn off, and then across the forest +paths to Cabourn; and there we found the hermit, and there Havelok and +Goldberga were wedded again with all the rites of Holy Church, and the +bride was well content. + +Now while that was our way, I will say what we escaped by this plan of +my brother’s, though we did not hear all for a long time. Presently we +did hear what had happened at Grimsby towards this business, as will be +seen. + +To Lincoln comes Griffin, with Cadwal his thane, just as we had left +the town thus by another road, and straightway he betakes himself to +the palace. There he finds Alsi in an evil mood, and in the hall the +people are talking fast, and there is no Berthun to receive him. + +So, as he sits at the high table and breaks his fast beside the king, +he asks what all the wonderment may be. And Alsi tells him, speaking in +Welsh. + +“East Anglia is mine,” he says, “for I have rid myself of the girl.” + +Griffin sets his hand on his dagger. + +“Hast killed her?” he says sharply. + +“No; married her.” + +“To whom, then?” + +“To a man whom the Witan will not have as a king at any price.” + +“There you broke faith with me,” says Griffin, snarling. “I would have +taken her, and chanced that.” + +“My oath was in the way of that. You missed the chance on the road the +other day, which would have made things easy for us both. There was no +other for you.” + +Now Griffin curses Ragnar, and the Welsh tongue is good for that +business. + +“Who is the man, then?” he says, when he has done. + +“The biggest and best-looking countryman of yours that I have ever set +eyes on,” answers Alsi, looking askance at Griffin’s angry face. “There +is a sort of consolation for you.” + +“His name,” fairly shouts Griffin. + +“Curan, the kitchen knave,” says Alsi, chuckling. + +“O fool, and doubly fool!” cries Griffin; “now have you outdone +yourself. Was it not plain to you that the man could be no thrall? Even +Ragnar looks mean beside him, and I hate Ragnar, so that I know well +how goodly he is.” + +Now Alsi grows uneasy, knowing that this had become plainer and plainer +to him as the wedding went on. + +“Why, what do you know of this knave of mine?” he asks. “He was goodly +enough for the sake of my oath, and the Witan will have none of him. +That is all I care for.” + +“What do I know of him? Just this—that you have married the queen of +the East Angles to Havelok, son of Gunnar Kirkeban of Denmark, for whom +men wait over there even now. The Witan not have him? I tell you that +every man in the land will follow him and Goldberga if they so much as +lift their finger. Done are the days of your kingship, and that by your +own deed.” + +Alsi grows white at this and trembles, for he minds the wondrous ring +and the names of the Asir, but he asks for more certainty. + +Then Griffin tells him that he was with Hodulf, and knew all the secret +of the making away with the boy, and how that came to naught. Then he +says that Hodulf had heard from certain Vikings that they had fallen on +Grim’s ship, and that in the grappling of the vessel the boy and a lady +had been drowned. It is quite likely that they, or some of them, +thought so in truth, seeing how that happened. After that Hodulf had +made inquiry, and was told that there were none but the children of +Grim with him, and so was content. So my father’s wisdom was justified. + +“Now I learned his name the other day; and I have a ship waiting to +take me at once to Hodulf, that I may warn him. I have ridden back from +Grimsby even now to say that, given a chance, say on some lonely ride, +that might well have been contrived, I would take Goldberga with me +beyond the sea. I thought more of that than of Hodulf, to say the +truth.” + +Now Alsi breaks down altogether, and prays Griffin to help him out of +this. + +“Follow the party and take her. They are few and unarmed, and it will +be easy, for men think that there is a plot to carry her off, and this +will not surprise any. Go to the sheriff and tell him that it has +happened, and he will hang the men on sight when you have taken them. +Then get to sea with the girl, and to Hodulf, and both he and I will +reward you.” + +“Thanks,” says Griffin, with a sneer; “I have my own men. Yours might +have orders that I am the one to be hanged. It would be worth your +while now to make a friend of your kitchen knave. You are not to be +trusted.” + +So these two wrangle for a while bitterly, for Alsi is not overlord of +Griffin in any way. And the end is that the thane rides towards Grimsby +first of all, with twenty men at his heels, knowing more than we +thought. But he hears naught of us, and presently meets Arngeir on his +way thence to see us. Him he knows, for already he has had dealings +with him in the hiring of the ship. So he learns from him that +certainly no such party as he seeks is on the road, and therefore rides +off to the Ermin Street to stay us from going south. + +But now we had time for a long start; and so he follows the Roman road +when he reaches it all that day and part of next, and we hear no more +of him at that time. There are many parties travelling on that way, and +he follows one after another. + +Now Arngeir knew at once that somewhat had happened when he heard from +Griffin that the most notable man of those whom he sought was named +Curan, and therefore he turned back at once and waited for us. And when +we came in sight of the long roof of the house that Grim, our father, +had built, standing among the clustering cottages of our fishers, with +the masts of a trading ship or two showing above it in the haven, he +was there on the road to greet us, having watched anxiously for our +coming from the beacon tower that we had made. + +Maybe we were two miles out of Grimsby at this time, for one can see +far along the level marsh tracks from our tower; and Withelm and Mord +and I rode on to him as soon as we saw him, that we might tell him all +that had happened, and we rode slowly and talked for half a mile or so. + +Then Withelm waited and brought Havelok to us, staying himself with the +princess, that he might tell her the wondrous story of her husband; for +we thought that it would be easier for him than for our brother maybe. +Havelok was not one to speak freely of himself. + +And when Goldberga had heard all, she was silent for a long way, and +then wept a little, but at last told Withelm that all this had been +foretold to her in her dream. + +“Yet I am glad,” she said, “that I did not know this for certain, else +had my Havelok thought that I did but wed him for his birth. Tell him, +brother, that it was not so; say that I knew him as the husband Heaven +sent for me when first I saw him.” + +Now Havelok listened to Arngeir as he told him the well-kept secret, +and now and again asked a question. + +And when all was told he said, “Now have the dreams passed, and the +light is come. I mind all plainly from the first.” + +And he told all that had happened after Hodulf caught him, from the +murder of his sisters to the time when I helped my father to take him +from the sack. Only he never remembered the death of his mother or the +storm, or how we came to Grimsby. Maybe it is rather a wonder that +after all those hard things gone through he should recall anything, for +he was nearly dying when we came ashore, as I have told. + +“But I am Grim’s son,” he said, “for all this, and never shall I forget +it. By right of life saved, and by right of upbringing, am I his, and +by right of brotherhood to his sons. Gunnar, who was my father, would +have me say this, if I am like him, as Mord tells me I am.” + +Then he looked at us in brotherly wise, as if we would maybe not allow +that claim now; but there needed naught to be said between us when he +met our eyes. He was Grim’s son indeed to us, and we his younger +brothers for all the days that were to come. + +“One thing there is that makes me glad,” he said, “and that is because +I may now be held worthy of this sweet bride of mine so strangely +given, as indeed I fear that I am not. Men will say that she has done +no wrong in wedding me; and for all that Alsi may say, it will be +believed that she knew well whom she was wedding. There will be no +blame to her.” + +That seemed to be all his thought of the matter now, and it was like +him. Then he went back to his princess, and we spurred on to Grimsby, +and set all to work, that the greeting might be all that we could make +it. + +And so, when those two rode into our garth, and the gates were closed +after them, we reined our horses round them, and drew our swords, and +cried the ancient greeting with one mighty shout: + +“Skoal to Havelok Gunnarsson—Skoal to Goldberga, Havelok’s wife! Skoal! +Yours we are, and for you we will die! Skoal!” + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. +JARL SIGURD OF DENMARK. + + +Now one would like to tell of quiet days at Grimsby; but they were not +to be. Three days after Havelok’s homecoming we were on the “swan’s +path,” and heading for Denmark, with the soft south wind of high summer +speeding us on the way. And I will tell how that came about, for else +it may seem strange that Havelok did not see to the rights of his wife +first of all. + +That was his first thought, in truth, and we brothers planned many ways +of getting to work for her, for it was certain that Alsi would be on +his guard. And on the next day came a man from Lincoln to seek Berthun, +with news. That good friend had done what none of us had been able to +manage, for he had told the merchant, his friend, to bide in the hall +and hear what went on, and then to let him know all else that seemed +needful that we should hear. Now he had learned all from the words of +Griffin and Alsi, who took no care in their speech, thinking that none +in the hall knew the Welsh tongue that they used. + +It being the business of a merchant to know that of every place where +he trades, and he travelling widely, there was no difficulty to him, +and mightily he enjoyed the sport. Then he sent off straightway to us; +and now it was plain that we were in danger—not at once, maybe, but ere +long. Griffin would hear sooner or later that his quarry was in Grimsby +after all. So we went to our good old friend, Witlaf of +Stallingborough, and told him all. + +“Why,” he said, “I will have no Welsh outsiders harrying my friends. +Light up your beacon if he comes, and shut your gates in his face, and +I and the housecarls will take him in the rear, and he will not wait +here long. I have not had a fight for these twenty years or so, and it +does me good to think of one.” + +So we thought that there was little fear of the Welshman. + +When I came back from this errand, however, I chose to pass the mound +where my father slept, and on it, hand in hand, sat Havelok and +Goldberga—for it was a quiet place, and none came near it often. It was +good to see them thus in that place, and happy they seemed together. + +Goldberga called me when I came near, and I sat down beside them as she +bade me. + +“Here we have been talking of what we shall do now, for it seems that +to both of us are many things to hand,” she said. “Good it would be if +we could set them aside; but we were born to them, and we cannot let +them be. And, most of all, here in this place we may not forget the +duty that Grim would remind us of. Havelok must go to Denmark and win +back his kingdom from Hodulf first of all.” + +“We have thought that East Anglia was to be won first from Alsi,” I +said. + +“So says Havelok; but I do not think so. For, indeed, I am but the +wife, and the things of the husband come first of all. Now, this is +what I would say. Sail to Denmark before Hodulf knows what is coming, +and there will be less trouble.” + +“I am slow at seeing things,” said Havelok; “but the same might be said +of your kingdom.” + +“Alsi is ready, and Hodulf is not,” she answered, laughing; “any one +can see that. + +“Is it not so, brother?” + +So it was; and I thought that she was right. + +“Let us ask the brothers,” I said, “for here are many things to be +thought of; and, first of all, where to get men.” + +That was the greatest trouble to our minds, but none at all to hers. + +“Get them in Denmark,” she said, when we were all together in the great +room of the house that evening. “Let us go as merchant folk, and find +Sigurd, or his son if he is dead. If I am not much mistaken, all the +land will rise for the son of Gunnar so soon as it is known that he has +come again.” + +“Sigurd is yet alive,” Arngeir said; “and more than that, he is +waiting. For he promised Grim that he would be ready, and I heard the +promise. I think that this plan is good, and can well be managed. Here +is the ship that Griffin was to have taken today, and he is not here. +Gold enough I have, for Grim hoarded against this time.” + +Then he showed us the store that, through long years, my father had +brought together to take the place of that of Sigurd’s which had been +lost; and it was no small one. And so we planned at once; and in the +end we three brothers were to go with Havelok and Goldberga, leaving +Mord to get to Ragnar and tell him that Goldberga was following the +fortunes of her husband, and would return to see to her own if all went +well. Berthun would go with him, and Arngeir would bide at home, for we +needed one to whom messages might come; and while none would know us +now in Denmark, either Arngeir or Mord might be seen, and men would +tell Hodulf that the men of Grim had come home, and so perhaps spoil +all. Word might go to Denmark from Griffin even yet. + +We had little thought of any sorry ending to our plans, for the dreams +that had come so true so far cheered us. And so, with the evening tide +of the next day, we sailed in the same ship that had been hired for +Griffin. + +But first Havelok spent a long hour on my father’s mound alone, +thinking of all that he owed to him who rested there. And to him came +Goldberga softly, presently, lest he should be lonely in that place. +And there she spoke to him of her own faith, saying that already he +owed much to it. For he was making his vows to the Asir for success. + +“Shall you pray yet again to the Asir, my husband?” she asked. + +“Why should I? I have vowed my vows, and there is an end. If they heed +them, all is well; and if not, the Norns hinder.” + +“There is One whom the Norns hinder not at all,” she said gently, and +so told him how that her prayers would go up every day. + +Fain was she that he also prayed in that wise to her God, that naught +might be apart in their minds. + +Then he said, “I have heard this from David and Withelm also, and it is +good. Teach me to vow to your God, sweet wife, and I will do so; and +you shall teach me to pray as you pray.” + +So it came to pass that Havelok in the after days was more than ready +to help the Christian teachers when they came to him; for that was how +the vow that he made ran, that he would do so if he was king, and had +the power. + +Now there is nothing to tell of our voyage, for one could not wish for +a better passage, if the ship was slow. Indeed, she was so slow that a +smaller vessel that left Tetney haven on the next day reached the same +port that we were bound for on the night that we came to our old home. +And that we learned soon after she had come. + +Into Sigurd’s haven we sailed on the morning tide, and strange it +seemed to me to see the well-known place unchanged as we neared it. My +father’s house was there, and Arngeir’s, and the great hall of the jarl +towered over all, as I remembered it. Men were building a ship in the +long shed where ours had been built, and where the queen had hidden; +and the fishing boats lay on the hard as on the day when Havelok had +come to us. The little grove was yet behind our house, and it seemed +strange when I remembered that the old stones of its altar were far +beyond the seas. I wondered if Thor yet stood under his great ash tree; +and then I saw one change, for that tree was gone, and in its place +stood a watchtower, stone built, and broad and high, for haven beacon. + +On the high fore deck stood Havelok, and his arm was round Goldberga as +we ran in, but they were silent. The land held overmuch of coming +wonder for them to put into words, as I think. + +Presently the boats came off to us in the old way, and here and there I +seemed to know the faces of the men, but I was not sure. It was but the +remembrance of the old Danish cast of face, maybe. I could put no names +to any of them. And as we were warped alongside the wharf, there rode +down to see who we were Sigurd the jarl himself, seeming unchanged, +although twelve years had gone over him. He was younger than my father, +I think, and was at that age when a man changes too slowly for a boy to +notice aught but that the one he left as a man he thought old is so +yet. He was just the noble-looking warrior that I had always wondered +at and admired. + +We had arranged in this way: Havelok was to be the merchant, and we his +partners in the venture, trading with the goods in the ship as our own. +That the owner, who was also ship master, had agreed to willingly +enough, as we promised to make good any loss that might be from our +want of skill in bargaining. One may say that we bought the cargo, +which was not a great one, on our own risk, therefore, hiring the +vessel to wait our needs, in case we found it better to fly or to land +elsewhere presently. Then Havelok was to ask the jarl’s leave to trade +in the land, and so find a chance to speak with him in private. After +that the goods might be an excuse for going far and wide through the +villages to let men know who had come, without rousing Hodulf’s fears. + +And as we thought of all this on the voyage, Goldberga remembered that +it was likely that Sigurd would know again the ring that had been the +queen’s, and she said that it had better be shown him at once, that he +might begin to suspect who his guest was. For we knew that he was true +to the son of Gunnar, if none else might still be so. + +This seemed good to us all; and, indeed, everything seemed to be well +planned, though we knew that there are always some happenings that have +been overlooked. We thought we had provided against these by keeping +the ship as our own to wait for us, however, and it will be seen how it +all worked out in the end. + +Now Havelok went ashore as soon as the ship was moored; and the moment +that he touched land he made a sign on his breast, and I think that it +was not that of the hammer of Thor, for Goldberga watched him with +bright eyes, and she seemed content as she did so. He went at once to +where the jarl sat on his horse waiting him, and greetings passed. I +was so used to seeing men stare at my brother that I thought little of +the long look that Sigurd gave him; but presently it seemed that he was +mightily taken with this newcomer, for he came on board the ship, that +he might speak more with him and us. + +“Presently,” he said, “you must come and dine with me at my hall; for +the lady whom I saw as you came in will be weary, and a meal on shore +after a long voyage is ever pleasant. Now what is your errand here?” + +“Trading, jarl,” answered Havelok. + +“I thought you somewhat over warlike-looking for a merchant,” said +Sigurd; “what is your merchandise?” + +“Lincoln cloth, and bar iron, and such like; and with it all one thing +that is worth showing to you, jarl, for I will sell it to none but +yourself.” + +Now we went aft slowly, and presently Havelok and the jarl were alone +by the steering oar, by design on our part. + +“This seems to be somewhat special,” said Sigurd. “What is it?” + +Havelok took the ring from his pouch, and set it in the jarl’s hand +without a word; and long Sigurd looked at it. I saw the red on his +cheek deepen as he did so, but he said never a word for a long time. +And next he looked at Havelok, and the eyes of these two met. + +“This is beyond price,” said the jarl slowly. “Not my whole town would +buy this. It is such as a queen might wear and be proud of.” + +“Should I show it to Hodulf the king, therefore?” asked Havelok, with +his eyes on those of the jarl. + +“Let no man see it until I know if I can buy it,” answered Sigurd. +“Trust it to my keeping, if you will, for I would have it valued +maybe.” + +“It is my wife’s, and you must ask her that.” + +Then Havelok called Goldberga from her cabin under the after deck, and +the jarl greeted her in most courtly wise. + +“I will trust it with you, Jarl Sigurd,” she said, when he asked her if +he might keep the ring for a time. “Yet it is a great trust, as you +know, and it will be well to show the ring to none but men who are +true.” + +“It is to true men that I would show it,” he answered, with that look +that had passed between him and Havelok already; and I was sure that he +knew now pretty certainly who we were. Yet he could not say more at +this time, for the many men who waited for Havelok must be told +somewhat of his coming first. + +Now men were gathering on the wharf to see the newcomers, and so the +jarl spoke openly for all to hear. + +“Come up to my hall, all of you, and take a meal ashore with me; for +good is the first food on dry land after days at sea and the fare of +the ship.” + +So he went across the gangway, and to his horse, and rode away quickly, +calling back to us, “Hasten, for we wait for you. And I will find you +lodgings in the town for the time that you bide with us.” + +Now at first that seemed somewhat hazardous, for we had meant to stay +in the ship, lest we should have to fly for any reason suddenly. But it +seemed that we had no choice but to do as he bade us, and we could not +doubt him in any way. We should go armed, of course, as in a strange +place; and, after all, unless Hodulf heard of us, and wanted to see us, +he was not to be feared as yet. So I fell to wondering where our +lodgings would he, and if the old families still dwelt in the houses +that I had known, and then who had ours. Many such thoughts will crowd +into the mind of one who sees his old land again after many years, and +finds naught changed, to the eye at least. + +Men have told me that, as we came into the hall presently, they thought +us the most goodly company that had ever crossed its threshold; and +that is likely, for at our head were Havelok and Goldberga. Raven was a +mighty warrior to look on as he came next, grave and silent, with +far-seeing grey eyes that were full of watching, as it were, from his +long seafaring, and yet had the seaman’s ready smile in them. And +Withelm was the pattern of a well-made youth who has his strength yet +to gather, and already knows how to make the best use of that he has. +There were none but thought that he was the most handsome of the three +sons of Grim. And last came I, and I am big enough, at least, to stand +at Havelok’s back; and for the rest, one remembers what Eglaf said of +me. But I do not think that any noticed us with those twain to look at, +unless they scanned our arms, which were more after the English sort +than the Danish, so far as mail and helms are concerned, and therefore +might seem strange. + +The old hall was not changed at all; and handsome it seemed after +Alsi’s, though it was not so large. There were more and better weapons +on the walls, and carved work was everywhere, so that in the swirl and +heat-flicker of the torches the beams, and door posts, and bench ends, +and the pillars of the high seat seemed alive with knotted dragons that +began, and ended, and writhed everywhere, wondrous to look on. Our +English have not the long winter nights, and cruel frosts, and deep +snow that make time for such work as this for the men of the household. + +There fell a silence as we came in, and then Sigurd greeted us; and we +were set on the high seat, and feasted royally. On right and left of +our host sat Havelok and Goldberga, and the jarl’s wife next to +Havelok, and Biorn the Brown, the sheriff, next to our princess. This +was a newcomer here since my days, but well we liked him. + +There is nothing to tell of what happened at this feast, for Sigurd +asked no questions of us but the most common ones of sea, and wind, and +voyage, and never a word that would have been hard for Havelok to +answer in this company, where men of Hodulf’s might well be present. +Withelm noticed this, and said that no doubt it was done purposely, and +he thought much of it. + +When we had ended with song and tale, and it was near time for rest, +Sigurd bade Biorn, the sheriff, take us to his house for the night, +telling him that he must answer for our safety, and specially that of +the fair lady who had come from so far. And then he gave us a good +guard of his housecarls to take us down the street, as if he feared +some danger. + +“Why, jarl,” said Biorn, “our guests will have a bad night if they +think that in our quiet place they need twenty men to see them to bed +thus!” + +“Nay, but the town is strange to the lady,” answered Sigurd; “and who +knows what she may fear in a foreign land!” + +So Biorn laughed, and was content; and we bade farewell to the jarl, +and went out. And then I found that it was to my father’s house we were +to go, for it had been given to Biorn. + +Now, I was next to Goldberga as we came to the door, and there was a +step into the house which we always had to warn strangers of when it +was dark; and so, in the old way, without thinking for a moment, I said +to her, “One step into the house, sister.” + +“Ho, Master Radbard, if that is you, you have sharp eyes in the dark,” +said Biorn at once; “I was just about to say that myself.” + +“I have some feeling in my toes,” I answered; and that turned the +matter, for they laughed. + +And then, when we were inside, and the courtmen had gone clattering +down the street homewards, Biorn took the great door bar from its old +place and ran it into the sockets in the doorposts, as I had done so +many times; and the runes that my father had cut on it when he made the +house were still plain to be seen on it, with the notches I had made +with the first knife that I ever had. More I will not say, but +everywhere that my eyes fell were things that I knew, even to fishing +gear, for it seemed that Biorn was somewhat of a fisher, like Grim +himself. + +Then they put me and my brothers into our old loft, and Havelok and +Goldberga had the room that had been my father’s. As for Biorn, he +would be in the great room, before the fire. There was only this one +door to the house, and therefore he would guard that. His thralls were +in the sheds, as ours used to be, so that we and he were alone in the +house. + +Now, as soon as we three had gone into our old place of rest, Raven +went at once, as in the old days, to the little square window that was +in the high-pitched gable, and looked out over the town and sea. We +used to laugh at him for this, for he was never happy until he had +seen, as we said, if all was yet there. + +“There are yet lights in the jarl’s hall,” he said, “and there are one +or two moving about down in the haven. I think that there is a vessel +coming in.” + +“Come and lie down, brother,” I said. “We are not in Grimsby, and you +cannot go and take toll from her if there is.” + +He laughed, and came to his bed; but we talked of old days and of many +things more for a long while before we slept. And most of all, we +thought that Sigurd the jarl knew Havelok by the token of the ring and +by that likeness to Gunnar which Mord had seen, and that our errand was +almost told. + +So we slept without thought of any danger; but the first hour of the +night in that house was not so quiet to Goldberga, for presently she +woke Havelok, and she was trembling. + +“Husband,” she said, “it is in my mind that we are in danger in this +place; for I cannot sleep by reason of a dream that will come to me so +soon as my eyes are closed.” + +“You are overtired with the voyage,” Havelok told her gently; and then +he asked her what the dream was. + +“It seems that I see you attacked by a boar and many foxes, and hard +pressed, and then that a bear and good hounds help you. Yet we have to +flee to a great tree, and there is safety. Then come two lions, and +they obey you.” + +“I think that is a dream that comes of waves, and the foam that has +followed us, and the shrill wind in the rigging, and the humming of the +sail, sweet wife; and the tree is the tall mast maybe, and the lions +are the surges that you saw along this shore, where is no danger.” + +So she was content; and then all in the house slept. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. +THE LAST OF GRIFFIN OF WALES. + + +Maybe it was about an hour before midnight when the first waking came +to any of us, and then it was Biorn himself who was roused by footsteps +that stayed at the doorway itself, after coming across the garth, and +then a voice that was strange to him which bade him open. At once he +caught up his axe and went to the door, and asked quietly who was +there. + +“Open at once,” said the man who was without; “we must speak with you.” + +“Go hence, I pray you, and wait for morning,” said the sheriff. “Here +are guests of the jarl’s, and they must not be disturbed.” + +“Open, or we will open for ourselves,” was the answer. “We have no time +to stay here talking.” + +“That is no honest speech,” quoth Biorn. “Go hence, or give me your +errand from without.” + +“Open, fool, or we will have the door down.” + +“There is an axe waiting for you if you do that. I rede you go hence in +peace, or it may be worse for you in the end.” + +I suppose it was in the mind of the sheriff that here were some friends +of his who had been overlong at the ale bench in the hall that evening; +but on this there was a little talk outside, and then the crash of a +great stone that was hurled against the door; and at that he started +back and got his mail shirt on him, for the door was strong enough to +stand many such blows yet. It seemed that there was more than a drunken +frolic on hand. Then came another stone against the door, and it shook; +and at the same moment Havelok came from his chamber to see what was +amiss, for the noise had waked him. He had thrown on the feasting gear +that he had been wearing; but he had neither mail nor helm, though he +had his axe in his hand. + +“What is the noise?” he said anxiously, seeing that Biorn was arming. + +The sheriff told him quickly, and again the door was battered. + +“It is a pity that a good door should be spoilt,” said Havelok, “for +down it is bound to come thus. Stand you there with the axe, and I will +even save them the trouble of breaking in.” + +“Nay,” said Biorn; “we know not how many are there, and it were better +that you should arm first. There is time.” + +“Why, they think that you are alone in the house, no doubt, and will +run when they find out their mistake. They are common thieves from the +forest, or outlaws. Stand you by to cut down the first man that dares +to enter, if there happen to be one bold enough.” + +He set his axe down, and went to the bar, and began to slide it back +into the deep socket that would let it free, and the men outside stayed +their blows as they heard it scraping. It was a very heavy bar of oak, +some seven feet long, and over a palm square. + +“Now!” cried Havelok, and caught the bar from its place. + +He did not take the trouble to set it down and get his axe; but as the +door opened a little he stood back balancing the great beam in his +hands, as a boy would handle a quarterstaff, ready for the rush of the +thieves that he expected, and so he was in the way of Biorn more or +less. + +Now there was silence outside, and one saw that the door was free, and +set his foot to it, and flung it open, for it went inwards. And then +Havelok knew that there was a stern fight before him, for the moonlight +showed the grim form of Griffin, the Welsh thane, fully armed and +ready. + +“Stand back, friend,” cried Biorn hastily, fearing for the unarmed man, +and caring nothing that beyond the foremost was a group of some half +dozen more warriors. + +But he spoke too late, for as Griffin stepped back a pace on seeing his +enemy himself in the doorway, Havelok had gone a pace forward, and now +was outside, where he had a clear swing of his unhandy weapon. + +Now Griffin gathered himself together, and spoke some few words to his +men in his own tongue; but my brother paid no heed to them, for he knew +what the way of the Briton was likely to be. And he was not wrong, for +without warning Griffin flew on him, sword point foremost, and left +handed, for he might not use the right for many a long day yet. + +Biorn shouted; but Havelok was ready, and the heavy bar caught and +shivered the light sword, and then swung and hurled the thane back +among his men with a rib broken. Havelok followed that up, falling on +the men even as their leader was among their feet. Two he felled with +downright strokes, and another shrank away in time to save himself from +the like fate. Then a fourth got in under his guard, and wounded +Havelok slightly in the left arm; and unless Biorn had been out and +beside him by that time it would have gone hard with him, for both +those who were left were on him, and another was hanging back for a +chance to come. + +There was shouting enough now, for the Briton does not fight in silence +as do the northern men, and we had waked. First of all Raven ran down +to the great room, half dazed with sleep, and blaming himself for all +this trouble, for he had seen that a ship was coming in, and he might +have thought it possible that it had brought Griffin and his men, whose +tongue had told him at once what had happened. + +Now he called to us to arm quickly, and sought for a weapon for +himself; and in that familiar place he went to the old corner where the +oars were wont to be set. There was one, for I have said that this +Biorn was a fisher, and the place that was handy for us had been so for +him. That was a homely weapon to Raven, and out into the moonlight he +came with it, and swept a Welshman away from Havelok’s side as he came. +But now more men were coming—townsfolk who had been roused by the +noise—and they knew nothing of the attackers, and so thought them +friends of ours, who joined us in falling on their sheriff; and there +was a wild confusion when Withelm and I came down armed. + +But what we saw first was a dim, white figure in the doorway of the +other room; and there stood Goldberga, wide eyed and trembling. + +“My dream, my dream!” she said. + +But of that we knew nothing; and we could but tell her to be of good +courage, for we would win through yet, and so went out to the fight. + +By this time Griffin was up again, and as I came from the door he was +once more ready to fall on Havelok from behind. So I thought it best to +stay him, and I shouted his name, and he turned and made for me. But +there was no skill in his coming, or he did not think me worth it, for +the axe had the better, and there was an end of Griffin. + +Withelm saw at once that Havelok had no weapon but the bar, and he ran +to him and held out his own axe. + +“Thanks, brother. Mine is inside the door. Get it for me,” said he; but +now he was laughing, and doing not much harm to anyone, and as I got +behind his back I saw why this was. + +There was only one of Griffin’s men left, and all the rest of the crowd +of half-armed men were townsfolk. Havelok and Raven were keeping these +back with sweeps of their long weapons, and behind them against the +wall was the sheriff, swearing and shouting vainly to bid his people +hold off and listen to him. And the noise was so great that they did +but think that he was calling them to rescue him from these who had +taken him prisoner. It seemed that the Welshman was keeping this up +also; but neither he nor any of the men cared to risk any nearness to +the sweep of bar and long oar in such hands. There were many broken +heads in that crowd; but it was growing greater every minute, and those +who were coming were well armed, having taken their time over it. They +say that there were sixty men there at one time. + +Now ran Withelm with the axe, and at that Havelok parted with the door +bar, and ended the last Welshman at the same time, for he hurled it at +him endwise, like a spear, and it took him full in the chest, and he +went down to rise no more. And at that the townsmen ran in, and we were +busy for a space, until once more they were in a howling circle round +us. But they had wounded Havelok again; and Biorn was at his wit’s end, +for he had had to take part in the fight this time. The men were mad +with battle, and forgot who he was, as it seemed. And now some raised a +cry for bows. + +That was the worst thing that we had to fear, and Raven called to us, +“Into the house, brothers, and keep them out of it till the jarl comes. +He will hear, or be sent for.” + +So we went back and got into the doorway, and we could not bar it at +first. But Withelm hewed off the blade of Raven’s oar, and I went out +and cleared the folk away for a space, and leapt back; and Havelok and +I got the door shut quickly against them as they came back on it, and +we barred it with the oar loom. That was but pine, however, and it +would not last long. + +Outside, the people were quiet for a little, wondering, no doubt, how +to rescue Biorn. He wanted to go out to them, but it did not seem safe +just yet. If they grew more reasonable it might be so. + +Then, as we rested thus, Goldberga came quickly, for she saw that her +husband was wounded, and she began to bind his hurts with a scarf she +had. She was very pale, but she was not weeping, and her hands did not +shake as she went to work. + +“This is my dream,” she said. “Was that the voice of Griffin that I +heard? It does not seem possible; but there is none other who speaks in +the old tongue of Britain here, surely.” + +“There is no more fear of him,” said Havelok, looking tenderly at her. +“Your dream has come true so far, if he was in it. How did it end?” + +“We fled to a tree,” she said, smiling faintly. + +Havelok smiled also, for this seemed dream stuff only to all of us—all +of us but Withelm, that is, for at once he said, “This door will be +down with a few blows. What of that tower of yours, Biorn? Might we not +get there and wait till the jarl comes?” + +At that Biorn almost shouted. + +“That is a good thought, and we can get there easily. Well it will be, +also, for the men are wild now, and there have been too many slain and +hurt for them to listen to reason.” + +“Bide you here,” said Withelm, “for it is we whom they seek. Then you +can talk to them.” + +But he would not do that, seeing that we had been put in his charge by +the jarl. + +“I go with you,” he said. “Now, if we climb out of the window that is +in the back of the house we can get to the tower before they know we +are gone.” + +We went into that chamber where Havelok had once been when he was taken +from the sack, and even as I unbarred the heavy shutter and took it +down, the door began to shake with a fresh attack on it. The trees of +the grove were two hundred yards from the house, maybe, and among them +loomed high and black the watchtower I had seen from the sea. A wide +path had been cut to it, and the moonlight shone straight down this to +the door of the building. + +Now Biorn went out first, and then he helped out Goldberga, and after +her we made Havelok go; and we called to these three to get to the +tower as Withelm came next, for every moment I looked to see our +enemies—if they are to be called so when I hardly suppose they knew +what they were fighting about—come round to fall on the back of the +house. + +Because of Goldberga they went; and Biorn opened the tower door, and +she passed into the blackness of its entry, but the two men stayed +outside for us. And we three were all out of the house when the first +of the crowd bethought themselves, and made for the back, and saw us. + +At once they raised a shout and a rush, and we did not think it worth +while to wait for them, as they would get between us and the tower, +which was open for us. So we ran, and they were, some twenty of them, +hard at our heels as we reached the door, and half fell inside, for the +winding stairway was close to the entry. I think that Biorn and Havelok +had made their plans as they saw what was coming, for Havelok followed +us and stood in the doorway, while Biorn was just outside with his axe +ready. + +“Hold hard, friends!” he called, as the men came up and halted before +him; “what is all this?” + +“Stand aside and let us get at them,” said the foremost, panting. + +“Nay,” said Biorn; “what harm have they done?” + +“Slain a dozen men and lamed twice as many more,” answered several +voices; “have them forth straightway.” + +“They were attacked, and defended themselves,” said the sheriff, “and +it is no fault of theirs that they had to do their best. Get you home, +and I will answer to the jarl for them. They are the jarl’s guests.” + +Then was a howl that was strange, and with it voices which seemed to +let some light on the matter. + +“They have slain the jarl’s guests.” + +And then came forward a big black-bearded man whom I had seen in the +crowd already, and he squared up to Biorn. + +“Lies are no good, master sheriff, for we know that the outlanders who +spoke the strange tongue must be the guests who came.” + +“I am no liar,” answered Biorn. “Is there not one man here who saw the +ship and her folk this afternoon?” + +Now this man seemed not to want that question answered, for he shouted +to the crowd not to waste time in wrangling, but to have out the +murderers; and he took a step towards Biorn, bidding him side no more +with the men, but let the folk deal with them. + +“You overdo your business as sheriff!” he said. + +It was Biorn who wasted no more time, for he saw that here was deeper +trouble than a common riot. He lifted his axe. + +“Come nearer at your peril,” he said. + +Then the black-bearded man sprang at him, and axe met sword for a parry +or two, flashing white in the moonlight. Then one weapon flashed red +suddenly, and it was Biorn’s, and back into the tower he sprang as his +foe fell, and Havelok flung the door to, and I barred it. + +“Up,” said Biorn; and in the dark we stumbled from stair to stair, +while the crowd howled and beat on the door below us. It was good to +get out into the moonlight on the roof, where we could rest. I was glad +that the tower was there instead of Thor, and also that it was strong. +It was no great height, but wide, and the men below looked comfortably +far off at all events. + +“Here is a fine affair,” quoth Biorn, sitting himself down with his +back against the high stone wall round the tower top. “It will take me +all my time to set this right.” + +“You have stood by us well, friend,” Havelok said, “and it is a pity +that you have had to share our trouble so far as this. Who was the man +who fell on you?” + +“That is the trouble,” answered Biorn, “for there will be more noise +over him than all the rest. He was Hodulf’s steward, the man who +gathers the scatt, and therefore is not liked. And all men know that +there was no love lost between him and me.” + +“Hodulf’s man,” said I; “how long has he been here, and is he a +Norseman?” + +For I knew him. He was the man who had spoken to me at the boat side +when we had to fly—one, therefore, who knew all of the secret of +Havelok. + +“Ay, one of the Norsemen who came here with the king at the first, and +is almost the last left of that crew. I suppose that you have heard the +story.” + +We had, in a way that the honest sheriff did not guess, and I only +nodded. But I thought that we had got rid of an enemy in him, and that +Griffin had fallen in with him on landing, and known him, and taken him +into his counsel about us. He would have gone down to see the vessel +and collect the king’s dues from her and from us at the same time. He +had not come into the town till late, as we heard afterwards. + +There was no time for asking more now, however, for the shouts of the +men round the door ceased, and someone gave orders, as if there was a +plan to be carried out. So I went and looked over on the side where the +door was to see what was on hand. + +It was about what one would have expected. They had got the trunk of a +tree, and were going to batter the door in. But now we were all armed, +for Raven had brought Havelok’s gear with him when he fetched his own. +He had thought also for Goldberga, and she was sitting in the corner of +the tower walls wrapped in a great cloak that she had used at sea, with +her eyes on her husband, unfearing, and as it seemed waiting for the +end that her dream foretold. + +I called the rest, and we looked down on the men. They saw us, and an +arrow or two flew at us, badly aimed in the moonlight. + +“Waste of good arrows,” said Havelok; “but we must keep them from the +door somehow.” + +“Would that the jarl would come,” growled Biorn, “for I do not see how +we are to do that.” + +“If they do break in,” said I, “any one can hold a stairway like this +against a crowd.” + +“I do not want to hurt more of these,” answered Havelok, looking round +him. And then his eyes lit up, and he laughed. “Why, we can keep them +back easily enough, after all.” + +He went to the tower corner, and shouted to the men below. Four or five +had the heavy log that they were to use as a ram, and they were just +about to charge the door with it, and no timber planking can stand that +sort of thing. + +“Ho, men,” he cried; “set that down, or some of you may get hurt.” + +They set up a roar of laughter at him as they heard, and then Havelok +laid hold of the great square block of stone that was on the very +corner of the wall, and tore it from its setting. + +“Odin!” said Biorn, as he saw that, “where do they breed such men as +this?” + +“Here,” answered Withelm, looking at the sheriff. + +Now Havelok hove up the stone over his head, and a sort of gasp went up +from the crowd below. One saw what was coming, and ran to drag back the +men with the beam, and stopped short before he reached them in terror, +crying to them to beware. But their heads were down, and they were +starting into a run. + +“Halt!” cried Havelok, but they did not stay. “Stand clear!” he shouted +in the sailor’s way. + +And then he swung the stone and let it go, while those who watched fled +back as if it was cast at them. Down is crashed on the attackers, +felling the man whom it struck, and dashing the timber from the grasp +of the others, so that one fell with it across his leg and lay howling, +while the rest gathered themselves up and got away from under the tower +as soon as they might. + +Now no man dared to come forward, and that angered Havelok. + +“Are you going to let these two bide there?” he said. “Pick the poor +knaves from under the stone and timber, and see to them.” + +But they hung back yet, and he called them “nidring.” + +Thereat two or three made a step forward, and one said, “Lord, let us +do as you bid us, and harm us not.” + +“You are safe,” he answered, and Biorn laughed and said that this was +the most wholesome word that he had heard tonight. + +“Lord, forsooth! Mighty little of that was there five minutes ago.” + +But it was not the terrible stone throwing only that wrung this from +them, as I think. They had seen Havelok in his arms, with the light of +battle on his face in the broad moonlight, and knew him for a king +among men. + +They took the hurt men from under the tower, and then crowded together, +watching us. And some man must needs loose an arrow at us, and it rang +on my mail, and that let loose the crowd again. Soon we had to shelter +under the battlement, but they were not able to lodge any arrows among +us, for that is a bit of skill that needs daylight. Then they dared to +get to the timber once more, and we saw them coming. + +Havelok took his helm, and set it on his sword point, and raised it +slowly above the wall, and that drew all the arrows in a moment. Then +he leapt up, and tore the stone from the other corner; and again, but +this time without warning, it fell on the men below, and that wrought +more harm than before. But it stayed them for a time, though not so +long, for now their blood was up, and the berserk spirit was waking in +them. Already the third stone was poised in the mighty hands, and would +have fallen, when there was a cry of, “The jarl! the jarl!” and along +the path into the clearing galloped Sigurd himself, with his courtmen +running behind him, and he called on the men to stay. + +They dropped the beam at the command, and were silent. And Sigurd +looked up at the tower, and saw who was there, and stayed with his face +raised, motionless for a space. I minded how Mord had stared and cried +out when first he saw Havelok, the son of Gunnar, in his war gear. + +“Biorn! where is Biorn?” cried Sigurd, looking back on the crowd as if +he thought he would be there. + +“Here am I, jarl,” came the answer, and the sheriff looked out from +beside Havelok. + +“What is all this?” + +“On my word, jarl, I cannot tell. Here have I been beset in my own +house, and but for your guests some of us would have come off badly. +There were outlanders who fell on us, and, as I think, stirred up the +folk to carry on the business, telling them that we had slain +ourselves, as one might say, for it was the cry that we had slain the +jarl’s guests.” + +“O fools, to take up the word of a chance stranger against that of your +own sheriff!” Sigurd cried, facing the people. + +“Nay, but the steward said so likewise,” cried some. + +“Hodulf’s steward?” said the jarl suddenly; “where is he?” + +“Yonder. Biorn slew him.” + +“He was leading this crowd,” said Biorn from above, “tried to force his +way into the tower past me, and would not be warned.” + +“What of the outlanders?” + +“All slain. Seven Welshmen they were.” + +Then I said plainly, remembering that the jarl would have known him, +“Their leader was Griffin, who came with Hodulf at the first. What +brought him here, think you, Sigurd the jarl?” + +But Sigurd looked round on the people, and scanned them for a long +time, and at last he said, in a hush that fell when he began to speak, +“Men who mind the old days, look at the man whom you have sought to +kill, and say if there is that about him which will tell you why +Hodulf’s men have set you on him thus.” + +Then the white faces turned with one accord to Havelok, as he stood +resting the great cornerstone on the battlement before him, and there +grew a whisper that became a word and that was almost a shout from the +many voices that answered. + +“Gunnar! Gunnar Kirkeban come again!” + +Then was silence, and the jarl spoke to Havelok. + +“Tell us your name, and whence you come.” + +“Havelok Grimsson of Grimsby men call me,” he said. + +And then men knew who he was indeed, for little by little the secret +had been pieced together, if not told from the king’s place, in the +years that had passed. And at that there rose and grew a murmur and a +cry. + +“Havelok, son of Gunnar! Havelok the king!” + +Then said Sigurd in a great voice, “Who is for Hodulf of us all? Let no +man go hence who is for him.” + +And I saw two or three men cut down then and there, and after that +there was a roar of voices that called for Havelok to lead them. + +“Come down, lord,” said Sigurd, unhelming and looking up. + +So we went from the tower, and round Havelok the men crowded, kissing +his hand and asking pardon for what they had wrought in error; and +Sigurd dismounted and knelt before him, holding forth his sword hilt in +token of homage, that his king might touch it. + +“Only Havelok son of Gunnar dares call himself son of Grim also, and in +that word all the tale is told. But I have known you from the first by +the token of the ring and by this likeness. Yet I waited for you to +speak, and for the time that should be best; and now that has come of +itself, and I am glad.” + +So said Sigurd, as we went from the tower to the hall, with the +townsmen at our heels in a wondering crowd. There were many among them +who would show the wounds that Havelok had given them with pride +hereafter, as tokens that they had known him well. + +Then we stayed on the steps of the hall door, and the jarl called out +man by man, and the war arrow was put in their hands with the names of +those men who waited for the coming of Havelok, that all through the +night the message that should bring him a mighty host on the morrow +should go far and wide. + +And the gathering word was, “Come, for the horn of the king is +sounding.” + +Then Sigurd said, “Speak to the people, my king, and all is done.” + +So Havelok smiled, and lifted his voice, and spoke. + +“Stand by me, friends, as steadfastly as you have fought against me, +and I shall be well content. And see, here is the queen for whom you +will fight also. There is not one of you but will play the man under +her eyes.” + +Not many words or crafty, but men saw his face, and heard that which +was in the voice, and they needed no word of reward to come, but +shouted as we had shouted when the bride came home to Grimsby, and I +thought that with the shout the throne of Hodulf was rocking. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. +THE OWNING OF THE HEIR. + + +Worn out we were with that long fight, and we all had some small +wounds—not much worth speaking of; and when these were seen to, we +slept. Only my brother Raven waked, and he sat through all the rest of +the short night on the high place, with his sword across his knees, +watching, for he blamed himself, overmuch as we all thought, for the +happenings of the attack. + +“Trouble not, brother, for we were in the keeping of Biorn, and he +could not have dreamt that foes could follow us over seas. It was not +for you to be on guard.” + +These were Withelm’s words, but for once Raven did not heed them. + +“Would Grim, our father, have slept with a lee shore under him, leaving +a stranger to keep watch? That is not how he taught me my duty; and I +have been careless, and I know it. I should have thought of Griffin +when I saw the ship come in.” + +So he had his way, and the last that I saw ere my eyes closed was his +stern form guarding us; and when I woke he was yet there, motionless, +with far-off eyes that noted the little movement that I made, and +glanced at me to see that all was well. + +In the grey of the morning the first of the chiefs to whom the arrow +had sped began to come in; but the jarl would not have Havelok waked, +for he was greatly troubled at the little wounds that had befallen this +long-waited guest. So the chiefs gathered very silently in the great +hall, and sat waiting while the light broadened and shone, gleam by +gleam, on their bright arms and anxious faces. It was not possible for +those who had not yet seen Havelok to be all so sure that it was indeed +he. They longed to see him, and to know him for the very son of Gunnar +for themselves. + +Presently there were maybe twenty chiefs in the hall—men who had fought +beside Kirkeban, and men who had been boys with Havelok, and some who +had known his grandfather—and the jarl thought that it was time that +they had the surety that they needed, for time went on, and there was +certainty that Hodulf must hear of all this morning. One could not +expect that no man would earn reward by warning him. + +So Sigurd went softly to the place where Havelok lay in the little +guest chamber that opened out of the inner room that was the jarl’s +own, and he slid the boards that closed it apart gently and looked in +to wake him. But instead of doing that, he came back to the hall and +beckoned the chiefs, and they rose and followed him silently. And when +they went Raven went also, without a word, that he might be near his +charge while these many strangers spoke with him. + +Now Sigurd stood at the spot where the little shifting of the sliding +board made it possible to see within the chamber, and one by one the +chiefs came and peered through the chink for a moment, and stood aside +for the next. And it was wondrous to see how each man went and looked +with doubt or wonder or just carelessly, and then turned away with a +great light of joy on his face and a new life in the whole turn and +sway of the body. + +It was dark in the chamber, save for the dim spaces under the eaves +that let in the sweet air from the sea to the sleepers. But from +somewhere aloft, where the timbering of the upper walls toward the east +had shrunk, so that there was a little hole that faced the newly-risen +sun, came the long shaft of a sunbeam that pierced the darkness like a +glorious spear, and lit on the mighty shoulder of Havelok that lay bare +of covering, and on the white hand of Goldberga that was across it. And +on the one they saw the crimson bent-armed cross that was the mark of +the line whence he and his father had sprung, and on the other glowed +and flashed the blood-red stone of the ring of Eleyn the queen. And +round that circle of sunshine was light enough for the chiefs to see +those two noble faces, and they were content. + +“Gunnar’s son,” said one old chief: “but were he only the son of Grim, +for those twain would I die.” + +So the warriors crept back to the hall silently as they had come; and +now they went out to their men and told them that all doubt had gone, +and along the road that led to Hodulf’s town the jarl sent mounted men +to watch for his coming. And always fresh men were pouring in, and +among them went the chiefs who had seen Havelok, and told them the +news. + +Now it was not long before there was a gathering of all the chiefs in +the hall of Sigurd, that they might break their fast, and then they saw +Havelok as he led in the princess to meet them. He stood on the high +place in his arms, and a shout of greeting went up; and when it was +over, Sigurd asked him to tell all that had happened to him; and he did +that in as few words as might be, for he was no great speaker, though +what he did say was always to the point, and left little to be asked. + +And when he had ended, there rose up a grey-headed old chief, and said, +“Give this warrior the horn of Gunnar, that we may hear him wind it. I +would not say that unless I were sure that he was the right man to have +it.” + +Now I stood beside Havelok, and while Sigurd went from the hall to some +treasure chamber to get this that had been asked for, I said to him, +“Mind you the day when we met Ragnar. and a call came into your dream? +Wind that call now; for, if I am not wrong, it will be welcome to those +who knew your father.” + +“I mind the day but not the call. I have never remembered it since,” he +said, and I was sorry. + +Sigurd brought the horn, and it was a wondrous one, golden and heavy. +It seemed to be a hunting horn, not very long, and little curved, but +from end to end it was wrought with strange figures of men and beasts +in rings that ran round it. + +“Have you seen this before?” asked Sigurd wistfully, and looking into +Havelok’s face as he gave it into his hand. + +One could feel that men waited his answer, and it came slowly. + +“Ay, friend, I am sure that I have, but I cannot yet say when or where. +I am sure that it is not the first time that I have had it in my hand.” + +And as he said this, Havelok’s face flushed a little, and his brow +wrinkled as if he tried to bring back the things of that which he had +thought his dream for so long. + +It would seem that in the years there had grown up a tale that this was +a magic horn, which none but the very son of Gunnar could wind, and to +the chiefs who saw Havelok now for the first time this was a test to +prove him. But all knew that the words he spoke of it were proof +enough, for a pretender would have said plainly that it had been +Gunnar’s, and that he knew it. I think that Sigurd was wise in what he +did next, for he set another horn in my brother’s hand, and asked him +the same question; and at this Havelok looked for a moment and shook +his head. + +“I have not seen that one before, nor one like it. I am sure that I +have seen this, or its fellow.” + +At that the faces that watched brightened, for there was no doubt in +the way that Havelok spoke; and then the old chief who had asked for +the horn said, “That—‘The horn of the king is sounding’—was the +gathering word of the night that has brought us here, and long have we +waited for it. Let Havelok wind his father’s horn, that we may hear it +once again.” + +Then Havelok set it to his lips, and at once the call that he had +remembered came back to him, and clear and sweet and full of longing +its strange notes rang under the arched roof, unfaltering until the +last; and then over him came the full remembrance of all that it had +been to him, and he turned away from the many eyes and sank on the high +seat, and set his head in his arms on the table, that men might not see +that he needs must weep; and Goldberga stepped a little before him, and +set her hand on his, for I think that she knew the loneliness that came +on him. + +Yet he was not alone in his sorrow, for down in the hall were men to +whom the lost call brought back the memory of a bright young king +riding to his home, and calling the son whom he loved with the call +that he had made for him alone; and they saw the fair child running +from the hall, and the mother following more slowly with smiles of +welcome; and they saw the grim courtmen, who looked on and were glad; +and they minded how they had lifted the boy to the war saddle; and +their eyes grew hot with tears also, and they had no need to be +ashamed. + +And as men stood motionless, with the last notes of the wild horn yet +ringing in their ears, there drifted a shadow across the days, and, lo! +beside Havelok, with his hand on his shoulder, stood the form of Gunnar +the king for a long moment, bright as any one of us who lived, in the +morning sunlight, and his face was full of joy and of hope and promise +for the time to come. And then he passed, but as he faded from us his +hand was on the hand of Goldberga that clasped her husband’s, as though +he would wed them afresh there on the high place of his friend’s hall. + +Now there went a sigh of wonder among the chiefs, and Havelok looked up +as if he followed the going of one whom he would not lose, and I know +that he saw Gunnar after he was unseen to us. + +“Surely,” he said, “surely that was my father who was here?” + +And Sigurd answered, “With your own call you called him, and he was +here.” + +But now the last lurking doubt was gone, and there was no more delay, +for the chiefs crowded with shouts of joy to the high place, and they +knelt to Havelok and hailed him as king then and there; and so they led +him to the great door of the hall, and the mightiest of them raised him +high on a wide shield before all the freemen who waited on the green +that is round the jarl’s house, and they cried, “Skoal to Havelok the +king!” + +And there was in answer the most stirring shout that a man may hear—the +shout of a host that hail the one for whom they are content to die. + +That was the first day of the reign of Havelok the king; and now there +were two kings in the land, and one was loved as few have been loved, +and the other was hated. And one was weak in men, as yet, while the +other was strong. + +Now Sigurd bade all those who were present gather in solemn Thing, that +they might make Havelok king indeed; and that was a gathering of all +the best in our quarter of the land, so that all would uphold what they +had done. And when they were gathered in the great hall in due order, +the doors were set wide open, and outside the freemen who followed the +chiefs sat in silence to see what they might and hear. + +Then swore Havelok to keep the ancient laws and customs, and to do +even-handed justice to all men, and to be bound by all else that a good +king should hold by. Sometimes these oaths are not kept as well as they +might be, but I was certain that here was one who would keep them. + +Thereafter Sigurd brought forth a crown that he had had made hastily by +his craftsmen from two gold arm rings, and they set it on Havelok’s +head, and hailed him as king indeed; and one by one the chiefs came and +swore all fealty to him, beginning with Sigurd, and ending with a boy +of some seventeen winters, who looked at the king he bent before as +though he was Thor himself. + +Then they would have had Havelok forth to the people at once; but he +bade them hearken for a moment, and said, taking Goldberga by the hand, +“Were it not for this my wife, I do not think that I had been here +today, and without her I am nothing. Now I am king by your word, and I +think that I might bid you take her as queen. But I had rather that she +was made queen by your word also, that whither I live or fall in the +strife that is to come, you may fight for her.” + +At that there was a murmur of praise, and all agreed that she should be +crowned at once. So Havelok set the crown on her head while the chiefs +in one voice swore to uphold her through good and ill, as though she +were Havelok himself. + +Then said Havelok, “Now have you taken her for queen for her own sake, +and I will tell you a thing that has not been heard here as yet. On +this throne sits the queen of two lands, and there shall come a day +when you and I shall set your lady on that other throne which is hers +by right. King’s daughter she is, for Ethelwald of the East Angles was +her father, and out of her right has she been kept by Alsi of Lindsey, +her evil kinsman.” + +At that men were glad, for great is the magic of kingly descent. And +thereupon that old warrior who had bidden Havelok sound the horn said, +“We have heard of Ethelwald the good king, and of this Alsi moreover, +and we know men who have seen both, and also Orwenna, the mother of our +own queen here. I followed your father across the seas in the old days, +and I seem to hear his voice again as you speak to us. And I saw +him—ay, I saw him yonder even now, and I am content. When the time +comes that for the sake of Goldberga you will gather a host and cross +the ‘swan’s path,’ I will not hold back, if you will have me.” + +There was spoken the mind of all that company, and they were not +backward to say so. For in the heart of the Dane is ever the love of +the sea, and of the clash of arms on a far-off strand that comes after +battle with wind and wave. + +Very bravely did Goldberga thank the chiefs for their love to her +husband and herself in a few words that were all that were needed to +bind the hearers to her, so well and truly were they chosen. And she +said that if the Anglian land was to be won it was for Havelok and not +for herself altogether, and she added, “Here we have spoken as if +already Hodulf was overthrown, and it is good that we are in such brave +heart. Yet this has been foretold to me, and I am sure that there will +be no mishap.” + +Then Sigurd said, “What gift do we give our queen, now that she has +come among us?” + +But Goldberga replied, “If it is the custom that one shall be given, I +will mind you of the promise hereafter, when Anglia is won, and you and +I are Havelok’s upholders on that throne. There is one thing that I +will ask then, that a wrong may be righted.” + +“Nay, but we will give you some gift now, and then you shall ask what +you will also.” + +“You have given me more than I dared hope,” she said, “even the brave +hearts and hands that have hailed us here. I can ask no more. Only +promise to give me one boon when I need it, and I am happy.” + +Then they said, “What you will, and when you will, Goldberga, the +queen. There is naught that you will ask amiss.” + +Now they showed Havelok to the warriors as crowned king, and I need not +tell how he was greeted. And after that we all went back into the hall +to speak of the way in which we were to meet Hodulf. + +Havelok would have a message sent to him, bidding him give up the land +in peace. + +“It may be that thus we shall save the sadness of fighting our own +people, though, indeed, they love the playground of Hodulf. He is an +outlander, and perhaps he may think well to make terms with us.” + +Some said that it was of no use, but then Havelok answered that even so +it was good to send a challenge to him. + +“For the sake of peace we will do this, though I would rather meet him +in open fight, for I have my father to avenge.” + +Now I rose up and said, “Let me go and speak with him, taking Withelm +as my counsellor. For I know all the story, and that will make him sure +that he has the right man to fight against. I will speak with him in +open hall, and more than he shall learn how he thought to slay +Havelok.” + +All thought that this was good, and I was to go at once. It was but a +few hours’ ride, as has been said, to his town, and the matter was as +well done with. + +So they gave me a guard of twenty of the jarl’s courtmen, and in half +an hour I was riding northward on my errand. And to say the truth I did +not know if it was certain that I should come back, for Hodulf was +hardly to be trusted. + +I did wait to break my fast, and that was all, for I had no mind to +spend the night on the road back from the talk that I should have had; +but though I wasted so little time, the people were already beginning +to prepare for rejoicing in their own way with games of all sorts and +with feasting in the open. I saw, as we rode down the street, the piles +of firewood that were to roast oxen whole, and near them were the butts +that held ale for all comers. There were men who set up the marks for +the archers, and others who staked out the rings for the wrestling and +sword play. And as we left the town we met two men who led a great +brown bear by a ring in his nose, for the baiting. I was sorry for the +poor beast, but the men called him “Hodulf,” already, and I thought +that a good sign in its way. + +Another good sign, and that one which could not be mistaken, was to see +the warriors coming in by twos and threes as the news reached them. +They were dotted along the roads from all quarters, and across the +heaths we saw the flash of the arms of more. + +And ever as they met us they hailed us with, “What cheer, comrades? Is +the news true? Is Havelok come to his own?” and the like, and they +would hurry on, rejoicing in the answer that they had. + +But I will say that presently, when we passed a stretch of wild moor +where we saw no man, the same was going on towards the town of Hodulf; +for if the news came to a village, some would be for the king that was, +and other and older men for the king that might be. Yet all asked that +question; and more than once, when they heard the reply, there would be +a halt and a talk, and then the men would turn and cast in their lot +with the son of Gunnar, hastening to him with more eager steps than had +taken them to Hodulf. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. +THE TOKEN OF SACK AND ANCHOR. + + +It seemed only the other day that I had passed over the well-known +ways, and I showed Withelm the hollow where Grim had met with the king +and taken his precious burden from him. Then we passed along the wild +shore, and the linnets were singing and the whinchats were calling as +ever, and the old mounds of the heroes of the bygone were awesome to me +now as long ago, when I looked at them standing lonesome along the +shore with only the wash of the waves to disturb them. And so we came +to the town at high noon, and already there was the bustle of a +gathering host in the place, for the news had fled before us. + +They had built a new and greater hall in place of that which had been +burned; and there sat Hodulf with his chiefs, wondering and planning, +and maybe waiting for more certain news of what had happened. Not long +would they wait for that now. + +We rode to the door, and one came to meet us with words of welcome, +thinking that we were men who came to the levy that was gathering; but +his words stayed when I asked to be taken to the presence of Hodulf, as +I came with a message from Havelok Gunnarsson the king. + +The man, chamberlain or steward, or whatever he was, stared at me, and +said in a low voice, “It is true then?” + +“True as I am Radbard Grimsson, who helped Havelok to fly from hence.” + +“Unwelcome will you be, for Hodulf is in no good mood,” the man said. +“I hardly think it safe for you to trust yourself with him.” + +“Then,” said I, “open the door of the hall, and I will go in with my +men, and see what he says.” + +“Well, that will be bad for me, but I have a mind to see Havelok.” + +So I told Withelm to come at my side, and bade half the courtmen follow +us closely, and when they were inside to see that the door was not +barred after us on any pretence. The rest would bide with the horses +outside. + +Then we loosed the peace strings of our weapons, and in we went, +quietly and in order; and the chiefs turned to look at us, thinking us +more of themselves. Hodulf sat on his place on the dais, and there were +thirty-one others with him, sitting on the benches that were set along +the walls. Withelm counted them. + +Then the door was closed, and the man with whom I had spoken set his +back against it, but it was not barred; and I went forward to the steps +of the high place, and stood before Hodulf. + +“Well, what now?” he said, seeing that I was a stranger. + +“First of all, I ask for safe conduct from this hall as a messenger +from king to king.” + +“That you have, of course,” he answered. “What is your message?” + +It did not seem that he thought of Havelok at all, but rather that I +came from some king to whom he had sent. There were two living not so +far off. I thought that there was no good in beating about the bush, +for such an errand as mine had better he told boldly. So I spoke out +for all to hear. + +“This is the word of Havelok, son of Gunnar the king, to Hodulf of +Norway, who sits in his place. Home he has come to take his own, and +now he would tell you that the time has come that he is able to rule +the kingdom for himself.” + +“And what if he has?” said Hodulf, without the least change of face, as +if he had been expecting this, and nothing more or less. + +But if he was quiet, the chiefs had heard my words in a very different +way. Some had leaped up, and others bent forward, to hear the answer to +my words the better. I heard one or two laugh; but there were some on +whose faces seemed to be written doubt and anxiety. I think that some +would have spoken, for Hodulf held up his hand for silence, and looked +to me for answer. + +“It will be well for you to give up the throne to him, making such +terms as you may,” I said. + +“That is a fair offer,” said Hodulf, quite unmoved, to all seeming, but +looking at me in a way that told me how his anger was held back by main +force, as it were; “but how am I to know that this one who sends so +bold a message is the real Havelok? I am not a fool that I should give +up my throne to the first who asks it. Doubtless you bring some token +that you come from the very son of Gunnar.” + +“It is right that you should ask one, and also that you should have one +that there can be no mistaking,” I said. “This is it. By the token of +the sack and the anchor I bid you know that Havelok sends me to you.” + +At that the face of Hodulf became ashy grey beneath the tan of wind and +sea, and I saw that his hand clutched the hilt of his sword so that the +knuckles of his fingers grew white. He had never thought to hear of +that deed again, and he knew that he had to deal with the one whom he +had thought dead. Some of the young chiefs in the hall laughed at that +token, but he flashed a glance at them which stayed the laugh on their +lips. + +“I know not what you mean,” he said, altogether staggered. + +“It is right,” I said, “that if the token is not plain I should make it +so. It is but fair also to the chiefs who are here.” + +Then he stayed me. True it is that old sin makes new shame. + +“I will take it as enough,” he said hastily. “I mind some old saying of +the kind. Ay, that is it—a hidden king and a voyage across the sea. It +is enough.” + +“Not enough,” said a chief in the hall close to the high seat. “Let +this warrior say what he means plainly.” + +There were many who agreed to this, and I did not wait for Hodulf any +longer. I told them who I was, and then showed them why that token was +to be held enough for any man; and as I spoke, there were black looks +toward the high seat among the older men. As for Hodulf, he sat with a +forced smile, and seemed to listen indulgently, as to a well-made tale. + +And after that the matter was out of my hands, for the same chief who +had asked for the tale came and stood by my side, and he faced Hodulf +and spoke. + +“For twelve years have I served you as king, and now I know that I have +wasted the faith I gave you. What became of the sisters of Havelok? +Answer me that, Hodulf, or I will go and ask their brother concerning +whom you have lied to me.” + +“Go and ask him,” answered Hodulf, biting his lips; “go and hear more +lies. Who can know the son of Gunnar when he sees him?” + +“That is answered out of your own mouth,” said the chief. “Is Sigurd a +fool that he should hail the first man who asks him to do so?” + +And from beside me Withelm answered also, “Maybe it is a pity that +Griffin of Wales was slain last night in trying to kill Havelok. He +knew him, and I have heard that he came here to warn Hodulf that his +time was come.” + +Hodulf’s face grew whiter when he heard that; but it was what he +needed, as some sort of excuse to let loose his passion. + +White and shaking with wrath and fear, he rose up and he cried, +“Murdered is Griffin! Ho, warriors, let not these go forth!” + +Whereon the old chief lifted his voice also, “Ho, Gunnar’s men! Ho, men +who love the old line! To Grim’s son, ahoy!” + +And he drew his sword, snapping the thongs that had bound it to the +sheath, so manfully tugged he at them in his wrath, and there was a +rush of men to us, and another to Hodulf. + +Now I think that we might have slain him there, and after that have +been slain ourselves, for the odds were against us, even though I had +the courtmen; but that was Havelok’s deed to do, for the sake of father +and sisters to be avenged, and so we only cut our way out of the hall +to the door, which my men threw open at once. There were two of +Hodulf’s men hurt only, for the most of them had run to the high place, +and few were between us and our going. So we took five chiefs and their +followers back with us, and that was worth the errand. + +We thought that it would not be long now before Hodulf was on us; but +the days passed, and there was no news of him, and all the while we +grew stronger. I do not know if the same could be said of him, and it +is doubtful if time made much difference to his forces. Those who +followed him were the men who owed all to him, either as men raised to +some sort of power when he first came, or else strangers whom he had +brought in with him. Some of the younger chiefs of the old families +held by him also, for they had known no other, and then there were old +feuds with Gunnar that held back some from us; but these few took part +with neither side. + +So before a week was out we had a matter of six thousand men in and +about the town; and it seemed that, with so good a force, it was as +well to march on Hodulf as to wait for him. And that was good hearing +for us all, for there was not a man who did not long to be up and +doing, though to smite a blow for Havelok should be the last deed that +he might do. + +They made me captain of the courtmen who were Havelok’s own, maybe +because I had served with Alsi, and Withelm was captain of Goldberga’s +own guard. High honour was that for the sons of Grim, for there was not +one in either of these companies but was of high birth; but then we +were Havelok’s brothers, and all seemed well content to serve under us. +I wanted Raven to be in my place, but he said that he was no warrior on +shore. + +“Just now I am Havelok’s watchdog, to be at his heels always. +Presently, if he likes to give me a ship when we sail to England, that +will suit me.” + +So Havelok made him his standard bearer; and as that would keep him at +the king’s side in the thickest fight, he was well pleased. Goldberga +wrought the standard that he bore, with the help of Sigurd’s wife, and +on it was the figure of Grim, sword and shield in hand, but with his +helm at his feet, as showing that he had laid it by; and on either side +of him stood Havelok and his wife, each with a crown above their heads, +as though they waited for the coming time when they should be set there +firmly by the bearing forward of this banner. Havelok bore his axe, +holding out the ring to Goldberga with the other hand, while she had +her sceptre in the left, and stretched the right hand to her husband. +There were runes that told the names of these three, for that is +needful in such work, as it passes the skill of woman to make a good +likeness, nor do I think it would be lucky to do so if it could be +compassed. Wondrous was the banner with gold and bright colours, and it +was hung from a gilded spear, ashen hafted, and long, that it might be +seen afar in battle. + +Now on the day when Havelok set his men in order for the march on +Hodulf word came that he was coming at last. It is likely that he knew +we were on the point of marching, and would choose his own ground on +which to wait for us. So we went to certain battle, as it seemed, and +none were sorry for that. So in the bright sunshine of a cloudless +morning Havelok and Goldberga rode down the line of the men, who would +fight to the death for them, and those two were good to look on. Day +and night Sigurd’s weapon smiths had wrought to make a mail shirt that +should be worthy of a king, and I thought that they had wrought well. +They had set a crown round the helm that they made for him, and Sigurd +had given him a sword that had been his father’s at one time, golden +hilted, and with runes on its blue blade. But Havelok would not part +with the axe that Grim had given him, plain as it was, and that was his +chosen weapon. + +But for once I think that men looked more at her who rode at Havelok’s +side than at him, goodly and kingly as he was in the war gear. For +Goldberga had on a silver coat of chain mail, and a little gold circlet +was round the silver helm that she wore, while at her saddle bow was an +axe, on which were runes written in gold, and a sword light enough for +her hand was in a gem-studded baldric from her shoulder. There was a +chief who had given her these, and it was said that they had first of +all belonged to one who had fought as a shield maiden at the great +battle of Dunheidi, by the side of Hervoer, the sister of the mighty +hero Angantyr. His forefather had won them at that time, and now they +were worn by one who was surely like the Valkyries, for no fairer or +more wondrous to look on in war gear could they be than our English +queen. + +She would have gone even into the battle with Havelok, but that neither +he nor we would suffer. She was to bide here in the town until we came +back in triumph or defeat; and as men looked on her, they grew strong, +that no tears might be for those bright eyes. + +Now I left them before the march began, for I and the courtmen were to +go forward and see where the foe was posted, and so bring word again. +And we went some five miles before we saw the first sign of them. Then +on a rise in the wild heath waited a few horsemen, who watched us for a +little while, and then rode away from us and beyond it. We followed +them, and when we came to where they had been, we saw that they had +fallen back on a company of about the same strength as ours, save that +there were more horsemen. I was the only mounted man of my little +force, and that rather to save my strength than because I liked riding. +I should certainly fight on foot, as would Havelok himself, in the old +way. It is not good to trust to the four feet of a horse when one means +business. + +We bided where we were, waiting to see what these men did, and soon +beyond them grew the long cloud of dust starred with shifting sparks +that told us that the host of Hodulf was on foot and advancing. It +seemed to me that here we had a good place to meet it, for the land +went down in a long slope that was in our favour, and therefore I set a +man on my horse, and sent him back with all speed to Havelok to bid him +hasten. Our host was not so far behind me, and I could see both from +this hill. We had full time to take position here before Hodulf’s army +was in reach. + +Now it seemed that the foemen would see what they could also, and they +began to move toward us. It was plain that we should have a small fight +on our own account directly, for I did not mean to let them take our +place. We moved, therefore, toward them, and at that the half-dozen +horsemen made for us at a trot. Then I saw that their leader was Hodulf +himself. + +We were in a track that led across the hill, and here on the slope it +was worn deep with ages of traffic between the two towns, and on either +side the heather grew thick and high, so that the horsemen could not +get round us. So Hodulf rode forward to where we barred the way, and +told me to stand aside. + +“What next?” I asked. “I may as well bid you go back, for I came here +to stop you.” + +“Come over to me, and leave this half-crowned kinglet of yours. It +shall be worth your while.” + +“Hard up for men must you be, Hodulf,” said one of my courtmen, +laughing. + +At that he made a sign to his followers, for they came on us at the +gallop, with levelled spears. We closed up, and hewed the spear points +off, and then dealt with the horses and men who foundered among us, and +they struggled back, leaving three men and four horses in the roadway. +It was bravely done, too, for there were only eight of them, and they +did us no harm beyond a bruise or two. I wished that we had taken or +slain Hodulf, however, for that might have made things easier in the +end. + +Hodulf got back to his courtmen, and now they came on. At that moment +over the hill behind us rode Havelok and Raven, and saw at once what +was on hand. They had ridden on, but the host was hard after them. + +“Send a man to bid the host halt,” Havelok said to me, “for we can end +the matter here. Now shall I be hand to hand with Hodulf, even as I +would wish.” + +I sent a man back as he bade me, and he stayed the host half a mile +beyond the hill, where they were not seen. Hodulf’s army was yet two +miles away across the heath, and none had gone back to hasten it. + +Now Havelok went forward, holding up his hand in token of parley, and +his enemy rode from his men to meet him. + +“There is much between us, Hodulf,” Havelok said, “and we have been +together along this road before. Yet for the sake of the men who follow +us it may be that we can make peace.” + +“That is for me to say,” answered Hodulf, “for you have invaded my +land, and are the peace breaker.” + +“I might mind you of a blood feud between us two,” said Havelok, “but +that is not the business of the host. For the sake of the land I will +say this. Give up the throne that you have held for me, and you shall +go hence with what treasure you have gathered, taking your Norsemen +with you. There will be no shame in doing that, for I am able now to +hold the land for myself.” + +Hodulf laughed a short laugh. + +“Fine talk that for the son of Grim the thrall, who drowned Havelok for +me! ‘Nidring’ should I be if I gave up to you.” + +“If things must go in that way, we will settle the matter here and now. +Will you that we fight hand to hand while our men look on, or shall we +go back to them and charge? I like the first plan best myself, as I +would avenge my father and sisters, and also that insult of the way in +which we passed this road together twelve years ago.” + +So said Havelok, and his words fell like ice from his lips, and he was +very still as he spoke, though the red flush crept into his cheek and +his brows lowered. + +And Hodulf did not answer at once. He looked at the towering young +warrior before him, and maybe into his mind there crept the thought of +the children whom he had slain, whom this one would avenge. Well he +knew that the true Havelok was speaking with him, though he would not +own it, and branded my father with the name of thrall for the sake of +insult to his foster son. + +At last he said, “We will go back to the men, for you have advantage in +that bulk of yours.” + +“As you will,” answered Havelok. “Twelve years ago that was on your +side.” + +He reined round at once, and touched his horse with the spur without +another glance at his enemy. And then we shouted, and Raven spurred +forward with a great oath, for Hodulf plucked his sword from the +scabbard, and with a new treachery in his heart, rode after our brother +and was almost on him. The shout was just in time, for Havelok turned +in his saddle as the blow was falling. + +Quick as light, he took it on the shaft of the spear he carried, and +turned it, wheeling his horse short round at the same time. Lindsey +training was there in that horsemanship of his. Hodulf’s horse shot +past as the blow failed, and then Raven seemed to be the next man to be +dealt with. + +But Havelok called to him to stand aside, for this was his own fight; +and at that Hodulf had his horse in hand again, and was ready to meet +his foe fairly. + +And now Havelok had cast aside the spear, and taken the axe from the +saddle bow; and these two met, unshielded, for neither had time to +unsling the round buckler from his shoulder. + +It was no long fight, for now Hodulf’s men were coming up, and there +need be no more thought of aught but ending one who was ready to smite +a foul blow before us all shamelessly. Havelok spurred his horse, and +the two met and closed for one moment. Then down went the Norseman with +cleft helm, and the old wrongs were avenged, and there was but one king +in the land. + +Then Hodulf’s men were on Havelok, but not before Raven was at his +back, and over Hodulf there was a struggle in which Havelok was in +peril for a short time before we closed round him. Well fought the +courtmen of the fallen king, and well fought my men, and we bore them +back, fighting every foot of ground, until there were only five of them +left, and these five yielded in all honour, being outnumbered. Yet ours +was a smaller band by half ere there was an end. + +It had not lasted long, and still the host of Hodulf was so far off +that they knew not so much as that there was any fighting. Then we went +to the hilltop, and set the banner there, and our line came on and +halted along the crest. + +One hardly need say what wonder and rejoicing there was when it was +known how Hodulf had met his end, and Sigurd and other chiefs went to +where we had fought, and looked on him. And one took the helm, which +had round it the stolen crown, and gave it to Havelok. + +“Set it on the standard,” he said, “for we may need that it shall be +shown presently. As for Hodulf, bear him aside out of the path of the +host, that we may lay him in mound when all is ended.” + +One cried that he did not deserve honour of any kind, and there were +some who agreed to that openly. I will not say that I was not one of +them, for I had seen the foul play, and heard the insult to Grim, my +father. + +But Havelok answered gravely, “He has been a king, and I have not heard +that he was altogether a bad one. All else was between him and me, and +that is paid for by his death. Think only of the twelve years in which +you have owned him as lord, and then you will know that it is right +that he should be given the last honours. You had no feud as had I.” + +Then they did as he bade them, and that gladly, for the words were +king-like, and of good omen for the days to come. I saw Sigurd and the +older chiefs glance at each other, and it was plain that they were well +pleased. + +Now the host came on, and it was greater than ours; but when there was +no sign of its leader the march wavered, and at last halted altogether. +Whereon some chiefs rode to speak to us, and Havelok met them with his +leaders. He had to speak first, for they could not well ask where +Hodulf was. The helm was a token that told them much. + +“I met your king even now,” he said, “and I offered him peace and +honourable return to Norway with his property if he would give up the +throne that is mine by right. Maybe I was wrong in thinking that he +might do so, but he refused. There were certain matters between us two, +besides that of the crown, which needed settling; and therefore, after +that, I challenged him to fight on these points, that being needful +before they were done with. So we fought, and our feud was ended. +Hodulf is dead, and his courtmen would not live after him while there +was a chance of avenging his fall. That was before the host came up. +Now I offer peace and friendship to all, and I can blame none who have +held to the king who has fallen. It was not to be expected that all +would own me at once. Only those Norsemen who came with Hodulf or have +come hither since must leave the land, and they shall go in honour, +taking their goods with them. Their time is up; that is all.” + +It was a long speech for Havelok, but in it was all that could be said. +Long and closely did the chiefs look at him as he spoke, for none of +them had seen him before. His words were not idly to be set aside +either, and they spoke together in a low voice when he had ended. + +“This is a matter for the whole host to settle,” one said at last. “We +will speak to them, and give you an answer shortly.” + +“Take one of Hodulf’s courtmen with you, that he may tell all of the +fight,” Havelok said: “he need not come back.” + +I gave the man his arms again, for he might as well have them if he +stayed. + +“Thanks, lord,” he said. “Here is one who will tell the truth for +Havelok.” + +Then our host sat down, and we watched the foemen as the news came to +them. We could not hear, of course, for they were a quarter of a mile +away, but if any tumult rose we should be warned in time. They were +very still, however. There was a long talk, and then one chief came +back to us. + +“I am going to ask a strange thing,” he said, “but the men wish to see +Havelok face to face.” + +Now Sigurd said that this was too great a risk, and even Withelm agreed +with him. + +But Havelok answered, “The men are my own men, but they are not sure +that I am the right king. It is plain that I am like my father, and +therefore it is safe for me to go.” + +“That,” said the chief, “is what we told them, and what they wish to +see.” + +“Then,” said Havelok, “I will come. Bid your men sit down, and bid the +horsemen dismount, and I will ride to them with five others. Then can +be no fear on either side.” + +“That will do well,” said Sigurd; and the chief went back, and at once +the host sat down. + +Then Havelok rode to them, and with him went we three and Sigurd and +Biorn. + +There was a murmur of wonder as he came, and it grew louder as he +unhelmed and stayed before them. + +And then one shouted, “Skoal to Havelok Gunnarsson!” and at once the +shout was taken up along the line. And that shout grew until the chiefs +joined in it, for it was the voice of the host, which cannot be +gainsaid; and without more delay, one by one the leaders pressed +forward and knelt on one knee to their king, and did homage to him. +Only the Norsemen held back; and presently, when we were talking to the +Danish chiefs in all friendly wise, they drew apart with their men, and +formed up into a close-ranked body that looked dangerous. + +“Surely they do not mean to fight!” said Withelm. + +Then one of them shouted that he must speak to the king, and that +seemed as if they owned him at least, so Havelok went to them. + +“You have heard my terms,” he said, “and I think that they are all that +you could ask. What is amiss?” + +“Your terms are good enough,” the speaker said, “and we know that our +time is come. But we must have surety that the people will not fall on +us, for we are flying, as it were. And we want the body of our king. We +would not have him buried any wise, as if he was a thrall.” + +“He shall be given to you, and as for the rest none shall harm you. +Moreover, for that saying about your king I will add this: that if +there are any of you who hold lands to which there is no Danish heir, +he shall take service with me if he will, and so keep them.” + +So there was no man in all the host who was not content; and that was +the second king-making of Havelok, as it were, for now there was no man +against him. The hosts were disbanded then and there, and we went that +day to Hodulf’s town, and took possession of all that had been in his +hands. Then was rejoicing over all the land, for a king of the old line +was on the throne once more, and his way was full of promise. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. +KING ALSI’S WELCOME. + + +Now there was one thing that was in the minds of all of us, and that +was the winning of Goldberga’s kingdom for her; but that was a matter +which was not to be thought of yet for a long while. Two years were we +in Denmark, and well loved was Havelok by all, whether one speaks of +the other kings who owned him as Gunnar’s heir at once, or the people +over whom he and Goldberga reigned. But we sent messages to Arngeir and +to Ragnar to say that all was well, and we heard from them in time how +Alsi feared what was to come, and had rather make friends with the +Anglians than offend them. So he had not given out anything that was +against the princess, but had told all how she had wedded the heir of +Denmark, and that she had given up her land to himself, and followed +her husband across the sea. It was not hard for him to feign gladness +in her well-doing; and Berthun counselled Ragnar to let things be thus, +and yet prepare for her return. + +In my own heart was the wish to go back to England always, for there +was my home; and I found that it was the same with my brothers, for +there is that in the English land which makes all who touch it love it. +And there was the mound that held my father, and there were the folk +among whom we had been brought up in the town that we had made; and I +longed to see once more the green marshes and the grey wolds of +Lindsey, and the brown waves of the wide Humber rolling shorewards, +line after line. I tired of the heaths and forests and peat mosses of +this land of my birth. And if that was so to me, it was a yet deeper +longing in the hearts of the brothers who hardly remembered this place; +and after a while we spoke of it more often. + +I do not know if we said much to others, but at last the younger chiefs +began to wonder when the promised time when they should cross the +“swan’s path” for Goldberga should come. Maybe they tired of the long +peace, as a Dane will. But when that talk began, Withelm knew that +things were ripe, and he told Havelok. That was in the third spring of +Havelok’s kingship, when it grew near to the time when men fit out +their ships. + +“This is what I have looked for,” he said; “and now we will delay no +longer, for here am I king indeed, and there is none who will rise +against me. Wonderful it is that men have hailed me thus. And now I +will tell you, brother, that I long for England. If I might take my +friends with me, I do not think that I should care if I never came here +again. It is not my home; and here my Goldberga is not altogether +happy, well as the folk love her.” + +Thereafter he called a great Thing[12] of all the freemen in the land, +and set the matter plainly before them, asking if they minded the words +he spoke when they crowned the queen, and if they were still ready to +follow him to the winning of her crown beyond the sea. + +There was no doubt what the answer would be; and it was said at once +that the sooner the ships were got ready the better. + +“Then,” said Havelok, “who shall mind this land while I am away? It may +be long ere I come back.” + +Now there was a cry that I should be king while Havelok was away, +forsooth! and a poor hand I should have made at the business. But I +said that it was foolishness, and that, moreover, I would go with +Havelok. And when they said that this was modesty on my part, I +answered that I had seen several kings, and that there was but one who +was worth thinking of, and that was my brother; therefore, I would go +on serving him where I could see him. + +“This is what Grim, my father, said to me long ago,” I said—“I was to +mind the old saying, ‘Bare is back without brother behind it;’ and, +therefore, I must see Havelok safe through this.” + +“Why, brother,” says Havelok, laughing, “if that saying must be +remembered—and I at least know it is true—it would make for leaving you +behind me here to see all fair when my back was turned.” + +Then he saw that I was grieved, for I thought for the moment that he +would bid me to stay, and so I should have to do so; but he took my +part. + +“I cannot be without my brothers,” he said. “If I had any word in the +matter—which mainly concerns the folk to be ruled, as it seems to me +(for I do not know of any man who would not uphold me)—I should say +that Sigurd the jarl was the right man, for all know that he is a good +ruler, nor will it be any new thing to submit to him.” + +That pleased all, and the end of it was that Sigurd was chosen to hold +the land for Havelok. + +Then Sigurd sat on the steps of the high place at Havelok’s feet, and +the king said, “I have no need to tell any man here who this is, and +why I think him worthy of the highest honour, for all know him and his +worth as well as I. Mainly by him was the thought of my return kept in +the minds of men, so that when the time came all were ready to hail me, +as you have done. Therefore, as by him I am king, so I make him king +also for me. He shall rule all the land while I am away, and to him +shall all men account as to me. And because it is right that his +kingship should be certain, I give him all his jarldom as a kingdom +from henceforth, only subject to me and my heirs as overlord. King +therefore he is, and none can say that you are ruled by naught but a +jarl.” + +Then Havelok girt on the new king’s sword, and set his own crowned helm +on his head for a moment; and all the Thing hailed him gladly, for he +was the right man without doubt. + +Then Sigurd did homage for his new honour; and after that he rose up, +and grew red and uneasy, as if there was somewhat that he wished to +say, and was half afraid to do so. + +Thereat some friend in the hall said, “You take your kingship worse +than did Radbard himself, as it seems. What is amiss?” + +“Why, I wanted to go on the Viking path with Havelok, and now it seems +that I cannot.” + +Then one shouted, “I never heard of a land going wrong while its king +was away risking his life to get property for his men. There is no man +here who is going to rise against either you or Havelok. And it is only +to send a message to our great overlord to say what we are about, and +he will see that the land is in peace. Nor do I think that any king +would harry Havelok’s land, for he is well loved by all his peers.” + +Wherefore it seemed that Sigurd must go also, and we had to set Biorn +as head man while Sigurd was away; but that would only be for a month +or two. So all things were ordered well, and in a month we set sail +with twenty ships, and in them a matter of fifteen hundred men. + +At first we thought that we would make for Grimsby; but then it seemed +best to land elsewhere, and more to the south, for we would have +messages sent at once to Ragnar to call East Anglia to Havelok’s +banner, and Alsi would have less chance of cutting us off from him. So +we sailed to Saltfleet haven, which lies some twenty-five miles +southward from Grimsby. Raven piloted us in safely, and there were none +to hinder our landing. The town was empty, indeed, when the ships came +into the haven, for all had fled in haste, except a few thralls, for +fear of the Vikings. + +Yet when we sent these thralls to say that Goldberga had come for her +own, the people came back and made us welcome, for her story was in +every mouth; and after that we fared well in Saltfleet, and men began +to gather to us. + +We sent to Arngeir and to Ragnar at once, and next day the Grimsby folk +were with us, but long before any word could come to Norwich, Alsi had +set about gathering a host against us. + +But we had not come to fight him for Lindsey, and our errand was to bid +him give up her own rights to Goldberga. One must be ready with the +strong hand if one expects to find justice from such a man; and Havelok +had thought it possible that if we came here first we should bring him +to reason at once, whereas if we went to Norfolk there would be +fighting with all the host of the Lindsey kingdom before long; while if +he did fight here we might save Goldberga’s land from that trouble, and +maybe have fewer to deal with. + +So a message was to be sent to Alsi at once, bidding him know that +Goldberga had come to ask for her rights, and that he might give them +to her in all honour. Arngeir was to take this, for it did not seem +right that a Dane should do so, and he was one who would be listened +to. I was to go with him, with my courtmen as guard; and we rode to +Lincoln on the fourth day after our coming to Saltfleet. Good it was to +ride over the old land again, and I thought that it had never looked +more fair with the ripening harvest, for when last I had seen it there +was none. The track of the famine was yet on all the villages, for +fewer folk were in them than in the days before the pestilence and the +dearth, but these had enough and to spare. + +And when these poor folk heard from us that Curan and his princess had +come again for what was hers, they took rusty weapons and flint-tipped +arrows and stone hammers from the hiding places in the thatch of their +hovels, and went across the marshlands to where the little hill of +Saltfleet stands above its haven, that they might help the one whom +they had loved as a fisher lad to become a mighty king. + +So we came to Lincoln, and already there was a gathering of thanes and +their men in the town, and they knew on what errand we had come well +enough. But they were courteous, and we were given quarters in the town +at once, that we might see Alsi with the first light in the morning. + +I will not say that we had a quiet night there, for we did not trust +Alsi; but we had no need to fear. In the morning Eglaf came to bid us +to the palace to speak with the king. + +“This is about what I expected, when I heard of the mistake that our +king had made,” he said, “and so far you are in luck. It is not +everyone who is a fisher one day and captain of the courtmen next, as +one might say. I like the look of your men, and I am going to take some +of the credit of that to myself, for a man has to learn before he can +command.” + +“I will not deny your share in the matter,” I answered, laughing, “for +had it not been for my time with you I had been at sea altogether. Now, +shall we have to fight you?” + +He shrugged his broad shoulders. + +“Who knows what is in the mind of our king? I do not, and you know +enough of him by this time to be certain that one cannot guess. He may +be all smiles and rejoicing that his dear niece has come back safely, +or just the other way. He has been very careful how he has dealt with +the Norfolk thanes of late, and what that means I do not know.” + +Then he asked what had become of Griffin, and I told him. I do not +think that he was surprised, for some word of the matter had reached +here by the news that chapmen bring from all parts. + +Now there was no more time for talk, for we came to the hall; and we +went in, Arngeir leading, and the rest of us following two by two. The +hall was pretty full of thanes and their men, and it was just as I had +last seen it. Alsi sat alone on his high seat, and there was no man +with him on the dais. I thought that he looked thinner and anxious. + +Arngeir went up the hall at once, and stood before the king, and +greeted him in the English way, which seemed strange to me after the +two years of Danish customs; and then Alsi bade him tell his errand. + +“I have come from Goldberga of East Anglia, and from Havelok the Dane, +her husband, to say that she has returned to her land, and would ask +that you would give her the throne that you have held for her since the +day that her father made you her guardian. It has been said that she +might ask you to give account of your management of the realm to her; +but that she does not wish to do, being sure that all will be rightly +done in the matter, and she only asks to be set in the place that was +her father’s.” + +So said Arngeir, plainly, and I could see that the thanes thought the +words good. + +And Alsi answered, “Has this matter been put before the Witan of the +East Angles?” + +I suppose that he thought to hear Arngeir say that there had been no +time for so doing at present, but my brother was readier than I should +have been. + +“Doubtless it has,” he said, “for that was your own promise to +Goldberga on her marriage.” + +At that Alsi flushed, and his brows wrinkled. He had said nothing to +the Witan at all, but had waited in hopes that he should hear no more +of his niece, telling the tale that we had heard. + +“I have had no answer from them,” he said at last, for Arngeir was +looking at him in a way that he could not meet. “It was her saying that +she would do this for herself.” + +“Then they do not refuse,” said Arngeir quietly, “nor did I think that +they would do so. It only remains therefore, that you, King Alsi, +should do your part. Then can the queen speak to the Witan, even as she +said, concerning her husband.” + +Now it must have been clear to the king that nothing short of a plain +answer would be taken, and he sat and thought for a while. One could +see that he was planning what to say, as if things had not gone as he +expected. Maybe he hoped to put off the matter by talk of asking the +Witan, and so to gain time, for we had certainly taken him unawares. + +At last he said, “How am I to know that you are here with full power to +speak for Goldberga? For this is a weighty matter.” + +Arngeir held out his hand, and on it was the ring of Orwenna the queen, +which Alsi had last seen here on the high place. + +“There is the token, King Alsi, and it is one which you know well,” he +answered. + +“Ay, I know it,” answered the king with a grin that was not pleasant. + +And then he said, “I will speak with my thanes, and give you word to +carry back in an hour’s time, now that I know you to be a true +messenger.” + +“There should be no reason for waiting so long as that, nor do I think +that the matter of the throne of East Anglia is a question for Lindsey +thanes,” answered Arngeir at once. “All this is between you and the +princess.” + +Thereat one of the thanes rose up and said, “If a kingdom has been +handed over to our king, it is not to be taken again without our having +a good deal to say about it. I do not know, moreover, if we can have a +foreigner over any part of our land.” + +“Goldberga never gave up her right to the kingdom,” Arngeir answered, +“as anyone who was here at the wedding would tell you. And as for +Havelok, her husband, being a foreigner, it seems to me that a Jute who +has been brought up here in Lindsey since he was seven winters old is +less a foreigner than a Briton is to us.” + +None made any answer to that, and I could see that the king was growing +angry at being met thus at every turn. But he began to smile in that +way of his that I had learned to mistrust. + +“That is not altogether courteous to either Goldberga or myself,” he +said, as if he would think the words a jest, seeing that he was half +Welsh. “Give me time, I pray you, to think of this, as I have asked, +and you shall go back with your answer.” + +There was no help for it, and we had to leave the hall in order that +Alsi might say what he had to say to his thanes. And I said to Arngeir +that it seemed that we should have to fight the matter out. + +“Alsi risks losing both kingdoms if he does that,” he answered, “for we +shall take what we choose if we are the victors. The visions that have +been thus right so far say that we shall be so.” + +“I shall be glad if we do come out on the right side,” I said; “but I +have not so much faith in these dream tellings as some. Nor do I think +that it seems altogether fair to fight on a certainty.” + +“When it is a matter of punishing one who does not keep faith, I do not +think that it matters much,” he answered, laughing. “I should like +certainty that he would not get the best of the honest side in that +case.” + +We were outside on the wide green within the square of the Roman walls +at this time, and now from within the hall came the sound of shouts and +cheering which we heard plainly enough. But whether it meant that the +thanes cheered Alsi because he would fight, rather than that they +applauded his justice to his niece, was not to be known as yet. As for +me, I thought that it was hardly likely to be the latter. + +Then came three thanes from the hail with the message, and it was this, +“Alsi bids Havelok go back to his own land and bide content therewith.” + +“What word is there for Goldberga, then?” asked Arngeir. + +“None. She has thrown in her lot with the Dane, and it is he with whom +we will not deal.” + +Then said I, “How was it that she had to throw in her lot with Havelok? +He was Alsi’s own choice for her.” + +“That is not what we have heard,” the spokesman answered. “Now it is +best that you go hence, for you have the answer.” + +“This means fighting for Goldberga’s rights,” said Arngeir, “and I will +tell you that Havelok will not be backward in the matter.” + +“In that case we shall meet again on the battlefield ere long,” +answered the thane. “I will not say that Havelok is in the wrong, and +things might have been better settled. Farewell till then. The Norns +will show who is right.” + +So we went, and I thought, as did Arngeir, that there was some little +feeling among his men that Alsi was wrong. + +Now Alsi set to work to gather forces in earnest, and he went to work +in a way that was all his own: for, saying nothing about Goldberga, he +sent to all his thanes with word that the Vikings had come in force and +invaded the land, led by the son of Gunnar Kirkeban, whose ways were +worse than those of his father, for he spared none, whereas Kirkeban +harried but the Welsh Christian folk. He prayed them therefore to +hasten, that this scourge might be driven back to the sea whence he +came. And that brought men to him fast, for no Englishman can bear that +an invader shall set foot on his shore, be he who he may. Few knew who +the wife of Havelok was at that time, but I do not know that it would +have made so much difference if they had. None thought that into +England had come the fair princess who was so well loved. + +Sorely troubled was Goldberga when she heard this answer, but it was +all that the rest of us looked for. And the next question was how best +to meet the false king. + +In the end we did a thing that may seem to some to have been rash +altogether, but it was our wish to compel Alsi to fight before his +force was great enough to crush us. It might be long before Ragnar +could raise a host and join us, for there was always a chance that he +might have trouble in getting the Norfolk thanes to come to his +standard for a march on Lindsey. If we had gone to Norfolk at once +there would have been no fear of that kind, but the fighting might have +been more bitter and longer drawn out. + +We sent the fleet southward into the Wash, that it might wait for us at +the port of the Fossdyke, on what men call the Frieston shore; and then +we left Saltfleet and marched across country to the wolds, and +southward and westward along them, that we might draw Alsi from +Lincoln. And all the way men joined us for the sake of Curan, whom they +knew, and of Goldberga, of whom they had heard, so that in numbers at +least our host was a great one. Ragged it might be, as one may say, +with the wild marshmen, who had no sort of training and no chiefs to +keep them in hand; but I knew that no host Alsi could get together had +any such trained force in it as we had in the fifteen hundred Vikings, +for they had seen many fights, and the ways of the sea teach men to +hold together and to obey orders at once and without hesitating. + +So we went until we came to Tetford, above Horncastle town; and there +is a great camp on a hilltop, made by the British, no doubt, in the +days when they fought with Rome. There we stayed, for Alsi was upon us. +We saw the fires of his camp in the village and on the hillsides across +the valley, but a mile or two from us that night; and it seemed that +his host was greater than ours, as we thought it would be, but not so +much so as to cause dread of the battle that was to come. + +Now there were two men who came to us that night, and we thought that +they had brought some message from Alsi at first. But all that they +wanted was to join Havelok, and we were glad of them. They were those +two seconds of Griffin’s, Cadwal and the other, whose name was Idrys, +and with them was David the priest, who had fled to us. + +“We know that Havelok is one who is worth fighting for,” they said, +“for we have proved it already. We are not Alsi’s men, and our fathers +fought for his mother’s Welsh kin against the English long ago. Let us +fight for the rights of Goldberga, at least.” + +Havelok welcomed them in all friendliness, though he asked them if they +had no grudge against him for the slaying of Griffin. + +“As to that,” they said, “after the duel we think that he deserved all +that has befallen him. We were ashamed to be his seconds.” + +Now these two took in hand to lead the marshmen, and set to work with +them at once, for they were ready to follow them as known thanes of the +British. And that was something gained. + +We slept on our arms that night, and all night long David woke and +prayed for our success, and I think that his prayers were not lost. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. +BY TETFORD STREAM. + + +In the early morning Alsi set his men in order in the valley, and +seemed to wait for us to come down to him, for it was of no use to try +to take the strong camp which sheltered us. And so, after council held, +we did not keep him waiting, but left the hill and marched on him. We +had the camp to fall back on if things went the wrong way, and beyond +that the road to the sea and the ships was open, with a chance of +meeting Ragnar on the way, moreover. + +Very long and deep seemed the line as we neared it, and it was formed +on the banks of a stream that runs down the valley, so that we must +cross the water to attack. But the stream was shallow now with the +August heat, and it was not much sunk between its banks. + +When he saw that, Sigurd, who was a man of many fights, said that we +had better send the marshmen round to fall on the wings of the foe, +while we went straight for the centre of the line in the wedge +formation that the Viking loves. For so we should have no trouble in +crossing the stream, and should cut the force against us in two. + +So the two Welsh thanes led their wild levies out on either side of us +Danes, who were in the centre, and then we formed the wedge. Havelok +himself would have gone first of all at its point: but that we would +not suffer, for if he fell the battle was lost at its beginning. + +“Nay,” he said, “for we fight for Goldberga.” + +“And what would she say were we to set you foremost of us all?” asked +Withelm. “Little love were there to either of you in that. You are the +heart of the host, and one shields that although it gives strength to +all the hands which obey it.” + +So Withelm and Arngeir and I went foremost, and behind us came the +courtmen, and in the midst of their shield wall was Havelok, with Raven +and the banner at his side. After them, rank on rank and with +close-locked shields, was such a force as had not been seen in Lindsey +for many a long day. Alsi’s men grew very silent as they saw us come +on, until we reached, through a storm of arrows that could not stay us, +the bank of the stream, and then they raised a war song that roared and +thundered among the hills as though the tide was coming up the valley +in one great wave. But we saved our breath until the first of us were +on the banks of the stream, and then I shouted, and with a great shout +of “Ahoy!” in answer, we charged through the stream and up the far +bank, where Alsi’s spearmen waited for us. + +They crowded together as they saw how narrow our front was, and there +was a hedge of steel before us three brothers; but the spear is not the +weapon to use if one would check the onrush of the Northman’s wedge, +and shield and axe between them dashed and hewed a way to the men who +got to their swords too late, and then we were in the midst of Alsi’s +line, with the gap that we had made widening behind us with each step +that we took forward. + +Now it was sheer hewing at the mass who crowded on us; and I mind how +we seemed to fight in silence, although the battle cries were +unceasing, and waxed ever louder; for it was as when one walks by the +shore and thinks not at all of the noise of breakers that never ends. +Now and then there was one shout that was new, and it seemed to be the +only voice. Most of all, the noise grew on the wings where the savage +Welsh fell on their masters and ancient foes in wild tumult. + +We tried to cut our way to Alsi, for we could see him as he sat on his +horse—the only mounted man in all the hosts; but we could not reach +him. And presently the time came when we who were foremost must let +fresh men take our places. Sigurd stepped to my side, and Withelm fell +back, and another took the place of Arngeir, and then my turn came, and +we went slowly from the front to where the hollow centre of the wedge +gave us rest. Only a few arrows fell there now and then; but the time +for using bows was past, seeing that we were hand to hand with all the +Lindsey host. And then I saw that Sigurd had done what we had failed +in, for he had reached the shield wall that was round the king himself. +And for a moment I was savage that the chance came to him so soon after +I had left the fighting line; but then I minded that Eglaf, my friend, +would be there, and I was glad that I need not cross swords with him +after all. I had thought of that happening before the fight began, but +in the turmoil of hottest struggle I had forgotten it. + +Now Sigurd was before the thick mass of the housecarls, and hand to +hand with them; and then he was among them, and he leapt at the bridle +of Alsi’s horse and grasped it. I saw the king’s sword flash down on +his helm, and he reeled under the stroke, but without letting go of the +rein. Then the housecarls made a rush, and bore back our men, and the +horse reared suddenly. There was a wild shout, and the war saddle was +empty; and again our men surged forward, so that I could not see what +had happened. + +But now our Welshmen had been beaten back from the wings—not easily, +but for want of training—and they were forced back across the brook, +and there held our bank well, giving way no step further. The water +kept them in an even front, against their will, as it were; and Alsi’s +men charged them in vain, knee deep in the stream that ran red. But +that let loose the men who had been held back from us; and now we were +overborne by numbers, and we began to go back. That was the worst part +of the whole fight, and the hardest hour of all the battle, as may be +supposed, for the wedge grew closer, as it was forced together by sheer +weight. None ever broke into it. + +Presently our rear was on the water’s edge, and it seemed likely that +in crossing there might be a breaking of the line; and when he saw +that, Havelok called to me, and he went to the front with the courtmen +round him. It was good to hear the cheers of our men as they saw the +dancing banner above the fight, and beneath it, in the bright sun, the +gold-circled helm of their king. The Lindseymen drew back a foot’s pace +as they saw the giant who came on them, and I heard some call that this +was Curan of Grimsby, as if in wonder. Then we had to fight hard, and +Sigurd fell back past me, with a wound on his shoulder where Alsi’s +sword had glanced from the helm. No life had been left to Sigurd had a +better hand wielded the weapon; but he was not badly hurt. I could not +see Alsi anywhere, nor Eglaf. + +Steadily the numbers drove us back, though before Havelok was always a +space into which men hardly dared to come. The wedge was pushed away +from us, and we had to fall back with it, until we crossed the stream; +and there Sigurd swung the massed men into line, and then came the +first pause in the fight. The two hosts stood, with the narrow water +between them, and glared on each other, silent now. And then the bowmen +began to get to work from either side, until the arrows were all gone. + +Now Havelok called to the foe, and they were silent while he spoke to +them. + +“Is Alsi yet alive?” he said; “for if not, I have no war with his men. +If he is, let me speak with him.” + +None answered for a while, and the men looked at each other as if they +knew not if the man they were fighting for lived or not. + +Then one came forward and said, “Alsi lives, and we have not done with +you yet. Get you back to your home beyond the sea!” + +And then they charged us again; but the water was a better front for us +than it had been for them, and across it they could not win. We drove +them back once and twice; and again came a time when both sides were +wearied and must needs rest. + +So it went on until night fell. We never stirred from that water’s +edge, and the stream was choked with valiant English and hardy Danes; +and yet the attacks came with the shout of “Out! out!” and the answer +from us of “Havelok, ahoy!” + +At last one who seemed a great chief came and cried a truce, for night +was falling; and he said that if Havelok would claim no advantage +therefrom, the men of Lindsey would get back from the field, and leave +it free for us to take our fallen. + +“But I must have your word that with the end of that task you go back +to the place you now hold, that we may begin afresh, if it seems good +to us, in the morning.” + +Then said Havelok, “That is well spoken, and I cannot but agree. Who +are you, however, for I must know that this is said with authority?” + +“I am the Earl of Chester,” he answered. “Alsi has set the leading of +the host in my hands, for he is hurt somewhat.” + +“I did not think that Mercians would have troubled to fight to uphold +Alsi of Lindsey in his ways with his niece,” Havelok said. + +“What is that?” said the earl. “Hither came I for love of fighting, +maybe, in the first place; and next to drive out certain Vikings. I +know naught of the business of which you speak.” + +“Then,” said I, “go and ask Eglaf, the captain of the housecarls, for +he knows all about it. We are no raiding Danes, but those who fight for +Goldberga of East Anglia.” + +At that a hum of voices went down the English line, and this earl bit +his lip in doubt. + +“Well,” he said, “that is Alsi’s affair, and I will speak to him. We +have had a good fight, and I will not say that either of us has the +best of it. Shall it be as I have said?” + +“Ay,” answered Havelok; and the earl drew off his men for half a mile, +and in the gathering dusk we crossed the brook, and went on our errand +across the field. It was not hard to find our men, for they lay in a +great wedge as we had fought. There had been no straggling from that +array, and no break had been made in its lines. Alsi had lost more than +we, for his men had beaten against that steel wall in vain, and the +arms of the Northman are better than those of any other nation. + +We took the wounded back to the camp, and there Goldberga and the wives +of our English thanes tended them; and as we gathered up the slain the +Lindsey men were among us at the same work, and we spoke to them as if +naught was amiss between us, nor any fight to begin again in the +morning. And then we learned how few knew what we had come for. It was +with them as with the Earl of Chester. They had no knowledge of +Goldberga’s homecoming, and least of all thought that at the back of +the trouble were the wiles of Alsi. It was two years ago that Goldberga +had gone, and her wedding had seemed to end her story. Now the men +heard and wondered; and it is said that very many left Alsi that night +and went home, angry with him for his falsehood. + +Now when all was done we sought rest, and weary we were. I will say for +myself that I did not feel like fighting next morning at all, for I was +tired out, and the one or two wounds that I had were getting sorely +stiff. Raven was much in the same case, and grumbled, sailor-wise, at +the weight of the banner and aught else that came uppermost in his +mind. Yet I knew that he would be the first to go forward again when +the time came. + +The host slept on their arms along the bank of the stream through the +hot night, and the banner was pitched in their midst. Soon the moon +rose, and only the footsteps of the sentries along our front went up +and down, while across the water was the same silence; for both hosts +were wearied out, and each had learned that the other were true men, +and there was no mistrust on either side. When the light came once more +we should fight to prove who were the best men at arms, and with no +hatred between us. + +Presently the mists crept up from the stream and wreathed the sleepers +on either bank with white, swaying clouds, and I mind that the last +thought I had before I closed my eyes was that my armour would be +rusted by the clinging damp—as if it were not war-stained from helm to +deerskin shoe already with stains that needed more cleansing than any +rust. + +Then I waked suddenly, for someone went past me, and I sat up to see +who it might be. The moon was very bright and high now, but the figure +that I saw wading in the white mist was shadowy, and I could not tell +who it was. And then another and yet another figure came from the rear +of our line, and passed among the sleeping ranks, and joined the first +noiselessly; and after a little while many came, hurrying, and they +formed up on the bank of the stream into the mighty wedge. And I feared +greatly, for not one of the sleepers stirred as the warriors went among +us, and I had looked on the faces of those who passed me, and I knew +that they were the dead whom I had seen the men gather even now and lay +in their last rank beyond our line. + +Then I saw that on the far bank was gathered another host, and that was +of Alsi’s men, and among them I knew the forms of some who had fallen +in the first onset when I led the charge. + +I tried to put forth my hand to wake Withelm, but I could not stir, and +when I would have spoken, I could frame no word, so that alone in all +the host I saw the slain men fight their battle over again, step by +step. The wedge of the Northmen won to the far shore as we had won—as +they had won in life but a few hours ago—and into the line of foemen +they cut their way, and on the far side of the stream they stayed and +fought, as it had been in the battle. Yet though one could see that the +men shouted and cried, there was no sound at all, and among the wildest +turmoil walked the sentries of Alsi’s host unconcerned and unknowing. +And to me they seemed to be the ghosts, and the phantom strife that +which was real. + +Then I was ware of a stranger thing yet than all I had seen so far, for +on the field were more than those whom I knew. There stood watching on +either side of the battle two other ghostly hosts, taking no part in +the struggle, but watching it as we had watched from our place when we +fell back into the rear to rest, pointing and seeming to cheer strokes +that were good and deeds that were valiant. And I knew that these were +men who had fought and died on this same field in older days, for on +one side were the white-clad Britons, and on the other the stern, +dark-faced Romans, steel and bronze from head to foot. + +So the battle went onward to where we had won and had been pressed +back; and then, little by little, the hosts faded away, and with them +went the watchers, and surely across the field went the quick gallop of +no earthly steeds, the passing to Odin of the choosers of the slain, +the Valkyries. + +Then came across the brook to me one through the mist, and the sentries +paid no heed to him, and he came to my side and spoke to me. It was +Cadwal, the Welsh thane, and his breast was gashed so that I thought +that he could not have lived. + +“Ay, I am dead,” he said, “as men count death, and yet I would have +part in victory over Alsi, for the sake of Havelok and of Goldberga. +Stay up my body on the morrow, that I may seem to fight at least, that +I may bide in the ranks once more in the day of victory. Little victory +have the British seen since Hengist came. Say that you will do this.” + +Then he looked wistfully at me, and I gave him some token of assent; +and at that came back all the shadows of our men, and seemed to pray +the same. And then was a stir of feet near me, and a shadow across the +trampled grass, and instead of the dead the voice of Havelok spoke +softly to me, and with him was Goldberga, clad in her mail. And I +thought that they and I were slain also, and I cried to this one who +seemed to be one of Odin’s maidens that I too would fain be stayed up +with Cadwal and the rest, that I might have part in victory. + +Then Goldberga stooped to me, and laid her soft hand on my forehead, +and took off my helm, so that the air came to me, and thereat I woke +altogether. + +“Brother,” she said, “you are restless and sorely wounded, as it seems. +It is not good that you should lie in this mist.” + +At her voice the others woke, and for a while she talked with us in a +low tone, cheering us. And presently she asked of that strange request +that I had made to her. + +I told her, for it was a message that should not be kept back, thus +given; and when he heard it, Withelm sighed a little, and said, “Would +that we had all those who have fallen. Yet if it is as they have asked +our brother, our host will seem as strong as before we joined battle in +the morning. Leave this to me, brother, for it may be done.” + +Then he rose up and went softly to where Idrys, the friend of Cadwal, +lay, and spoke long with him. It was true that Cadwal was slain, though +I had not yet heard of it until he told me himself thus. + +Then I slept heavily, while the others talked for a while. It is a hard +place at a wedge tip when Englishmen are against one; and I am not much +use in a council. Presently they would wake me if my word was wanted. + +But it was not needed, for the sunlight woke me. There was a growing +stir in our lines and across the water also, and I looked round. The +mists were yet dense, for there was not enough breeze to stir the heavy +folds of the banner, and Raven slept still with his arm round its +staff. Havelok was not here now, and I thought that he had gone to the +camp with Goldberga, and would be back shortly. + +Then I saw that our rear rank was already formed up, as I thought, and +that is not quite the order of things, as a rule, and it seemed far off +from the stream. I thought that they should have asked me about this, +for there were some of my courtmen in that line. + +And then I saw that in the line was no movement, and no flash of arms, +as when one man speaks to another, turning a little. And before that +line stood the form of a chief who leant on his broad spear, motionless +and seeming watchful. I knew him at once, and it was Cadwal, and those +he commanded were the dead. That was even to me an awesome sight, for +in the mists they seemed ready and waiting for the word that would +never come to their ears, resting on the spears that they could use no +more. It had been done by the marshmen in the dark hours of the +morning, and from across the stream I saw Alsi’s men staring at the new +force that they thought had come to help us. There were men enough +moving along our bank with food to us to prevent them seeing that this +line stirred not at all. + +There was a scald who came with us from Denmark, and now with the full +rising of the sun he took his harp and went along the stream bank +singing the song of Dunheidi fight and so sweet was his voice, and so +strong, that even Alsi’s men gathered to hearken to him. His name was +Heidrek, and he has set all that he saw with Havelok into a saga; but +we, here, mostly remember the brave waking that he gave us that +morning. It was wonderful how the bright song cheered us. One saw that +the stiffened limbs shook themselves into litheness once more, and the +listless faces brightened, and into the hearts that were heavy came new +hope, and that was the song’s work. + +Now men began to jest with their foes across the stream, and those who +had Danish loaves threw them across in exchange for English, that they +might have somewhat to talk of. Ours were rye, and theirs of barley; +but it was not a fair change after ours had been so long a voyage. + +It was not long before our war horns sounded for the mustering, and men +ran to their arms. The Lindsey host drew back from the talk with our +men at the same time, and, without waiting for word from their leaders, +began to get in line along the stream, where they had been when we +halted last night. But we had no thought of falling on them until we +had had some parley with the king or the Earl of Chester. And now it +was plain that with the grim rearguard behind us we outnumbered the men +of Alsi who were left. + +Now came from the village in rear of the foe a little company, in the +midst of which was one horseman, and that was the king himself. His arm +was slung to his breast, and he sat his horse weakly, so that it was +true enough that he had been hurt. With him were the earl and Eglaf, +and the housecarls, and I sent one to fetch Havelok quickly, that there +might be no delay in the words that were to be said. + +Alsi rode to the water’s edge and looked out over our host, and his +white face became whiter, and his thin lips twitched as he saw that our +line was no weaker than it had seemed when first he saw it. He spoke to +the earl, and he too counted the odds before him, and he smiled a +little to himself. He had not much to say to Alsi. + +Then broke out a thunderous cheer from all our men, for with Havelok +and Sigurd at her horse’s rein, and with Withelm’s courtmen of her own +guard behind her, came Goldberga the queen to speak with the man who +had broken his trust. She had on her mail, as on the day when we ended +Hodulf; and she rode to the centre of our line, and there stayed, with +a flush on her cheek that the wild shouts of our men had called there. + +Then I heard the name of “Goldberga, Goldberga!” run down the English +line, and I saw Alsi shrink back into himself, as it were; and then +some Lincoln men close to him began to grow restless, and all at once +they lifted their helms and cheered also, and that cheer was taken up +by all the host, as it seemed, until the ring of hills seemed alive +with voices. And with that Alsi half turned his horse to fly. + +Yet his men did not mean to leave him. It was but the hailing of the +lady whom they knew, and her coming thus was more than the simple +warriors had wit or mind to fathom. But now Goldberga held up her hand, +and the cries ceased, and silence came. Then she lifted her voice, +clear as a silver bell, and said, “It seems strange to me that English +folk should be fighting against me and my husband’s men who have +brought me home. I would know the meaning of this, King Alsi, for it +would seem that your oath to my father is badly kept. Maybe I have +thought that the people would not have me in his place; but their voice +does not ring in those shouts, for which I thank them with all my +heart, as if they hated me. Now, therefore, I myself ask that my +guardian will give up to me that which is my own.” + +We held our peace, but a hum of talk went all through the English +ranks. The Earl of Chester sat down on the bank, and set his sword +across his knees, and began to tie the peace strings round the hilt, in +token that he was going to fight no more. Now and then he looked at +Goldberga, and smiled at her earnest face. But Alsi made no sign of +answer. + +Then the queen spoke again to him. + +“There must be some reason why you have thus set a host in arms against +me,” she said, “and what that may be I would know.” + +Then, as Alsi answered not at all, the earl spoke frankly. + +“We were told that we had to drive out the Vikings, and I must say that +they do not go easily. But it was not told us that they came here to +right a wrong, else had I not fought.” + +Many called out in the same words, and then sat down as the earl had +done. + +And at last Alsi spoke for himself. + +“We do not fight against you, my niece, but against the Danes. We +cannot have them in the country.” + +“They do not mean to bide here, but they will not go before my throne +is given to me. Never came a foreign host into a land in more friendly +wise than this of mine.” + +At that Alsi’s face seemed to clear, and his forced smile came to him. +He looked round on the thanes who were nearest him, and coughed, and +then answered, “Here has been some mistake, my niece, and it has cost +many good lives. If it is even as you say, get you to your land of +Anglia, and there shall be peace. I myself will send word to Ragnar +that he shall hail you as queen.” + +Then up spoke a new voice, and it was one that I knew well. + +“No need to do that, lord king,” said Berthun the cook. “Here have I +come posthaste, and riding day and night, to say that Ragnar is but a +day’s march from here, that he and all Norfolk may see that their queen +comes to her own.” + +Then Alsi’s face grew ashy pale, and without another word he swung his +horse round and went his way. I saw him reel in the saddle before he +had gone far, and Eglaf set his arm round him and stayed him up. After +him Goldberga looked wistfully, for she was forgiving, and had fain +that he had spoken one word of sorrow. But none else heeded him, for +now the thanes, led by the earl himself, came thronging across the +water, that they might ask forgiveness for even seeming to withstand +Goldberga. And on both sides the men set down their arms, and began to +pile mighty fires, that the peace made should not want its handfasting +feast. + +For the fair princess had won her own, and there was naught but +gladness. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. +PEACE, AND FAREWELL. + + +Now there was feasting enough, and somewhere they found at a thane’s +house a great tent, and they set that up, so that Havelok and Goldberga +might have their own court round them, as it were. Gladly did Berthun +rid himself of war gear and take to his old trade again. I suppose that +the little Tetford valley had never heard the like sounds of rejoicing +before. + +Near midnight a man came to me and said that a message had come to me +from the other side, and I rose from the board and went out, to find +Eglaf waiting for me in the moonlight. He was armed, and his face was +wan and tired. + +“Come apart, friend,” he said; “I have a message from the king.” + +“To me?” + +“No, to Havelok. But you must hear it first, and then tell him as you +will.” + +We walked away from the tent and across the hillside for some way, and +then he said without more words, “This is the message that Alsi sends +to Havelok, whose name was Curan. ‘Forgive the things that are past, +for many there are that need forgiving. I have no heir, and it is for +myself that I have schemed amiss. In Lincoln town lies a great +treasure, of which Eglaf and I alone know. Give it, I pray you, to your +Danes, that they may harm the land not at all, and so shall I ward off +some of the evil that might come through me even yet. I think that, +after me, you shall be king.’” + +“That is wise of Alsi; but is there no word for Goldberga?” + +“Ay, but not by my mouth. I fetched David the priest two hours ago, and +he bears those messages.” + +“Is there yet more to say?” I asked, for it seemed to me that there +was. + +“There is,” he answered. “Alsi is dead.” + +So there was an end of all his schemings, and I will say no more of +them. It was Eglaf’s thought that it was not so much his hurts that had +killed the king, but a broken heart because of this failure. For the +second time now I knew that it is true that “old sin makes new shame.” + +Now how we told Havelok this, and how Goldberga was somewhat comforted +by the words that David the priest brought her from her uncle, there is +no need to say. But when the news was known in all the host of Lindsey, +there was a great gathering of all in the wide meadow, and we sat in +the camp and wondered what end should be to the talk. Ragnar had come; +but his host was now no great one, for we had sent word to him of the +peace, and there was a great welcome for him and his men. + +The Lindsey thanes did not talk long, and presently some half dozen of +the best of them came to us, and said that with one accord the +gathering would ask that Havelok and Goldberga should reign over them. + +“We will answer for all in the land,” they said. “If there are other +thanes who should have had a word in the matter, they are not here +because, knowing more than we, they would not fight for Alsi in this +quarrel. If there is any other man to be thought of, he cannot go +against the word of the host.” + +“I have my kingdom in Denmark,” said Havelok, “and my wife has hers in +Anglia. How should we take this? See, here is Ragnar of Norwich; he is +worthy to be king, if any. Here, too, is the Earl of Chester, who led +you. It will be well to set these two names before the host.” + +“The host will have none but Havelok and Goldberga,” they said. + +So the long-ago visions came to pass, and in a few days more we were +feasting in the old hall at Lincoln. But before we left the valley of +the battle we laid in mound in all honour those who had fallen. Seven +great mounds we made, at which men wonder and will wonder while they +stand at Tetford. For well fought the Danes of Goldberga, and well +fought the Lindseymen on that day. Yet I think that those who would +fain have lived to see the victory had their share in it, as they stood +in their grim and silent ranks behind us. + +Then was a new crowning of those two, and messages to the overlord of +Lindsey, sent by the thanes, to say that all was settled on the old +lines of peaceful tribute to be paid; and then, when word and presents +came back from him, Goldberga rose up on the high place where she had +been so strangely wedded, and looked down at the joyous faces of her +nobles at the long tables. + +“When I was crowned in Denmark,” she said, “there was a promise made +me, that when this day came to me in Norfolk I might ask one boon of +all who upheld me. I do not know if I may ask it here and now, for the +promise was made by my husband’s people. Yet it is a matter that is +dear to my heart that I shall seek from you all, if I may.” + +Then all the hall rang with voices that bade her ask what she would; +and she bowed and flushed red, and hesitated a little. Then she took +heart and spoke. + +“It is but this,” she said. “Let the poor Christian folk bide in peace; +and if teachers come from the south or from the north presently who +will speak of that faith, bear with them, I pray you, for they work no +harm indeed.” + +Almost was she weeping as she said this, and her white hands were +clasped tightly before her. But she looked bravely at the thanes, and +waited for the answer, though I think that she feared what it would be. + +But an old thane rose up in his place, smiling, and he answered, “If +you had commanded us this, my queen, it would have been done. The +Christian folk, if there are any, shall have no hurt. I think that we +had forgotten the old days of trouble with them. Yet I hear that in +Kent the new faith, as it seems to us, is being taught, and that the +king looks on it with favour. It may be that here it will come also. +For your sake I will listen if a teacher comes to me.” + +The thanes thought little of this boon, and they all answered that it +was freely granted. But they said that it was no boon to give, and bade +her ask somewhat that was better. + +“Why then,” she said, “if I must ask more, think no more of me as queen +save as that I am the wife of the king. Havelok is your ruler in good +sooth.” + +That pleased them all well, and they laughed and wished that all had +wives who had no mind to rule. + +“Here is word that is going home to my wife,” said one to his +neighbour. “If the queen sets the fashion of obedience, it behoves all +good wives to follow her leading.” + +“Maybe I would let some other than yourself tell the lady that,” +answered the other thane with a great laugh, for he knew that household +and its ruler. + +So Goldberga had her will, and then began the long years of peace and +happiness to the kingdoms of which all men know. Wherefore I think that +my story is done. What I have told is halting maybe, and rough, but it +is true. And Goldberga, my sister, says that it is good. Which is all +the praise that I need. + + +So far went Radbard, my friend, and then he would tell no more. So it +is left to me, Wislac the priest, who have written for him, to finish. +He says that everyone knows the rest, and so they do just now. But in +the years to come, when this story is read, men will want to know more. +So it is fit that I should end the story, telling things that I myself +know to be true also. + +Sigurd’s host went back in the autumn, rich with the treasure of Alsi +the king; and from that time forward no Danish host ever sought our +shores. Wars enough have been in England here, but they have not harmed +us. No host has been suffered to cross the borders of Lindsey or East +Anglia, save in peace, and in the wars of Penda of Mercia Havelok has +taken no part. Yet he has had to fight to hold his own more than once, +but always with victory, for always the prayers of the few Christians +have been with him. + +They set Earl Ragnar to hold the southern kingdom for Havelok and his +wife; and presently, when he was left a widower, he wedded the youngest +daughter of Grim, Havelok’s foster father. Eglaf was captain of the +Lincoln courtmen or housecarls, whichever the right name may be among +those who speak of them. One name is Danish and the other English, but +they mean the same. As for my good friend Radbard, he was high sheriff +before long, and that he is yet. He wedded Ragnar’s sister the year +that Havelok was crowned in Norwich, which was the next year after the +crowning at Lincoln. + +Raven went back to the sea, and he will now be in Denmark or else on +the Viking path with Sigurd, for that is what he best loves. Arngeir +bides at Grimsby, high in honour with all, and the port and town grow +greater and more prosperous year by year. Wise was Grim when he chose +to stay in the place where he had chanced to come, if it were not more +than chance that brought him. I suppose that for all time the ships +that are from Grimsby will be free from all dues in the ports that are +Havelok’s in the Danish land. Witlaf, the good old thane, bides in his +place yet, and he rejoices ever that he had a hand in bringing Havelok +up. Nor does our king forget that. + +Indeed, I think that he forgets naught but ill done toward him. Never +is a man who has done one little thing for him overlooked, if he is met +by our king after many years, and that is a royal gift indeed. + +I would that all married folk were as are this royal couple of ours. +Never are they happy apart, and never has a word gone awry between +them. If one speaks of Havelok, one must needs think of Goldberga; and +if one says a word of the queen, one means the king also. Happy in +their people and in their wondrous fair children are they, and that is +all that can be wished for them. + +There was one thing wanting for long years, that I and Withelm ever +longed for for Havelok—a thing for which Goldberga prayed ever. I came +to them from Queen Bertha in Kent, when good old David died; and at +that time Havelok was not a Christian, but surely the most Christian +heathen that ever was. I knew that he must come into the faith at some +time; and I, at least, could not find it in my heart to blame him +altogether for holding to the Asir whom his fathers worshipped. It was +in sheer honesty and singleness of heart that he did so, and I had +never skill enough to show him the right. But Withelm, who has long +been a priest of the faith, and shall surely be our bishop ere long, +had more to do with his conversion than any other. + +Yet it did not come until the days when Paulinus came from York and +preached with the fire of the missionary to us all. And then we saw the +mighty warrior go down to the water in the white robe of the +catechumen, and come therefrom with his face shining with a new and +wondrous light. + +Then he founded a monastery at Grimsby, that there the men of the +marsh, who had been kind to him in the old days, might find teachers in +all that was good; and there it will surely be after many a long year, +until there is need for its work no more, if such a time ever comes. + +So the land grows Christian fast, and good will be its folk if they +follow the way of king and queen and their brothers. + +Now have I finished also, and this is farewell. Look you, husbands and +wives, that you may be said to be like Havelok and Goldberga; and see, +brothers, that you mind the words that Grim spoke to his sons, and +which they heeded so well— + +“Bare is back without brother behind it.” And that is a true word, +though it was a heathen who spoke it. + +THE END. + + + + + [1] I have to thank the Mayor of Grimsby for most kindly furnishing me + with an impression of this ancient seal. + + [2] Now Nishni-Novgorod, from time immemorial the great meetingplace + of north and south, east and west. + + [3] The _garth_ was the fenced and stockaded enclosure round a + northern homestead. + + [4] The _seax_ was the heavy, curved dagger carried by men of all + ranks. + + [5] The northern sea god and goddess. + + [6] Men drowned at sea were thought to go to the halls of Pan and + Aegir. Ran is represented as fishing for heroes in time of storm. + + [7] The Norns were the Fates of the northern mythology. + + [8] The “Witanagemot,” the representative assembly for the kingdom, + whence our Parliament sprang. + + [9] The greatest term of reproach for a coward. + + [10] The gold ring kept in the Temple of the Asir, on which all oaths + must be sworn. + + [11] The sanctuary of the Asir. Thorsway and Withern in Lincolnshire + both preserve the name in the last and first syllable respectively, + both meaning “Thor’s sanctuary.” + + [12] The northern equivalent of the Saxon “Folkmote,” or general + assembly of the people. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12847 *** |