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diff --git a/2721-0.txt b/2721-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b47307d --- /dev/null +++ b/2721-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12654 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of Eric Brighteyes, by H. Rider Haggard + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: Eric Brighteyes + +Author: H. Rider Haggard + +Release Date: July, 2001 [eBook #2721] +[Most recently updated: May 3, 2021] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +Produced by: John Bickers, Dagny, Emma Dudding and David Widger + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ERIC BRIGHTEYES *** + + + + +Eric Brighteyes + +by H. Rider Haggard + + +Contents + + DEDICATION + INTRODUCTION + ERIC BRIGHTEYES + + CHAPTER I. HOW ASMUND THE PRIEST FOUND GROA THE WITCH + CHAPTER II. HOW ERIC TOLD HIS LOVE TO GUDRUDA IN THE SNOW ON COLDBACK + CHAPTER III. HOW ASMUND BADE ERIC TO HIS YULE-FEAST + CHAPTER IV. HOW ERIC CAME DOWN GOLDEN FALLS + CHAPTER V. HOW ERIC WON THE SWORD WHITEFIRE + CHAPTER VI. HOW ASMUND THE PRIEST WAS BETROTHED TO UNNA + CHAPTER VII. HOW ERIC WENT UP MOSFELL AGAINST SKALLAGRIM THE BARESARK + CHAPTER VIII. HOW OSPAKAR BLACKTOOTH FOUND ERIC BRIGHTEYES AND SKALLAGRIM LAMBSTAIL ON HORSE-HEAD HEIGHTS + CHAPTER IX. HOW SWANHILD DEALT WITH GUDRUDA + CHAPTER X. HOW ASMUND SPOKE WITH SWANHILD + CHAPTER XI. HOW SWANHILD BID FAREWELL TO ERIC + CHAPTER XII. HOW ERIC WAS OUTLAWED AND SAILED A-VIKING + CHAPTER XIII. HOW HALL THE MATE CUT THE GRAPNEL CHAIN + CHAPTER XIV. HOW ERIC DREAMED A DREAM + CHAPTER XV. HOW ERIC DWELT IN LONDON TOWN + CHAPTER XVI. HOW SWANHILD WALKED THE SEAS + CHAPTER XVII. HOW ASMUND THE PRIEST WEDDED UNNA, THOROD’S DAUGHTER + CHAPTER XVIII. HOW EARL ATLI FOUND ERIC AND SKALLAGRIM ON THE SOUTHERN ROCKS OF STRAUMEY ISLE + CHAPTER XIX. HOW KOLL THE HALF-WITTED BROUGHT TIDINGS FROM ICELAND + CHAPTER XX. HOW ERIC WAS NAMED ANEW + CHAPTER XXI. HOW HALL OF LITHDALE TOOK TIDINGS TO ICELAND + CHAPTER XXII. HOW ERIC CAME HOME AGAIN + CHAPTER XXIII. HOW ERIC WAS A GUEST AT THE WEDDING-FEAST OF GUDRUDA THE FAIR + CHAPTER XXIV. HOW THE FEAST WENT + CHAPTER XXV. HOW THE FEAST ENDED + CHAPTER XXVI. HOW ERIC VENTURED DOWN TO MIDDALHOF AND WHAT HE FOUND + CHAPTER XXVII. HOW GUDRUDA WENT UP TO MOSFELL + CHAPTER XXVIII. HOW SWANHILD WON TIDINGS OF ERIC + CHAPTER XXIX. HOW WENT THE BRIDAL NIGHT + CHAPTER XXX. HOW THE DAWN CAME + CHAPTER XXXI. HOW ERIC SENT AWAY HIS MEN FROM MOSFELL + CHAPTER XXXII. HOW ERIC AND SKALLAGRIM GREW FEY + CHAPTER XXXIII. HOW ERIC AND SKALLAGRIM FOUGHT THEIR LAST GREAT FIGHT + + + + +DEDICATION + + +Madam, + +You have graciously conveyed to me the intelligence that during the +weary weeks spent far from his home—in alternate hope and fear, in +suffering and mortal trial—a Prince whose memory all men must +reverence, the Emperor Frederick, found pleasure in the reading of my +stories: that “they interested and fascinated him.” + +While the world was watching daily at the bedside of your Majesty’s +Imperial husband, while many were endeavouring to learn courage in our +supremest need from the spectacle of that heroic patience, a distant +writer little knew that it had been his fortune to bring to such a +sufferer an hour’s forgetfulness of sorrow and pain. + +This knowledge, to an author, is far dearer than any praise, and it is +in gratitude that, with your Majesty’s permission, I venture to +dedicate to you the tale of Eric Brighteyes. + +The late Emperor, at heart a lover of peace, though by duty a soldier +of soldiers, might perhaps have cared to interest himself in a warrior +of long ago, a hero of our Northern stock, whose days were spent in +strife, and whose latest desire was Rest. But it may not be; like the +Golden Eric of this Saga, and after a nobler fashion, he has passed +through the Hundred Gates into the Valhalla of Renown. + +To you, then, Madam, I dedicate this book, a token, however slight and +unworthy, of profound respect and sympathy. + +I am, Madam, + +Your Majesty’s most obedient servant, + +H. Rider Haggard. + +November 17, 1889. + +To H.I.M. Victoria, Empress Frederick of Germany. + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +“Eric Brighteyes” is a romance founded on the Icelandic Sagas. “What is +a saga?” “Is it a fable or a true story?” The answer is not altogether +simple. For such sagas as those of Burnt Njal and Grettir the Strong +partake both of truth and fiction: historians dispute as to the +proportions. This was the manner of the saga’s growth: In the early +days of the Iceland community—that republic of aristocrats—say, between +the dates 900 and 1100 of our era, a quarrel would arise between two +great families. As in the case of the Njal Saga, its cause, probably, +was the ill doings of some noble woman. This quarrel would lead to +manslaughter. Then blood called for blood, and a vendetta was set on +foot that ended only with the death by violence of a majority of the +actors in the drama and of large numbers of their adherents. In the +course of the feud, men of heroic strength and mould would come to the +front and perform deeds worthy of the iron age which bore them. Women +also would help to fashion the tale, for good or ill, according to +their natural gifts and characters. At last the tragedy was covered up +by death and time, leaving only a few dinted shields and haunted cairns +to tell of those who had played its leading parts. + +But its fame lived on in the minds of men. From generation to +generation skalds wandered through the winter snows, much as Homer may +have wandered in his day across the Grecian vales and mountains, to +find a welcome at every stead, because of the old-time story they had +to tell. Here, night after night, they would sit in the ingle and while +away the weariness of the dayless dark with histories of the times when +men carried their lives in their hands, and thought them well lost if +there might be a song in the ears of folk to come. To alter the tale +was one of the greatest of crimes: the skald must repeat it as it came +to him; but by degrees undoubtedly the sagas did suffer alteration. The +facts remained the same indeed, but around them gathered a mist of +miraculous occurrences and legends. To take a single instance: the +account of the burning of Bergthorsknoll in the Njal Saga is not only a +piece of descriptive writing that for vivid, simple force and insight +is scarcely to be matched out of Homer and the Bible, it is also +obviously true. We feel as we read, that no man could have invented +that story, though some great skald threw it into shape. That the tale +is true, the writer of “Eric” can testify, for, saga in hand, he has +followed every act of the drama on its very site. There he who digs +beneath the surface of the lonely mound that looks across plain and sea +to Westman Isles may still find traces of the burning, and see what +appears to be the black sand with which the hands of Bergthora and her +women strewed the earthen floor some nine hundred years ago, and even +the greasy and clotted remains of the whey that they threw upon the +flame to quench it. He may discover the places where Fosi drew up his +men, where Skarphedinn died, singing while his legs were burnt from off +him, where Kari leapt from the flaming ruin, and the dell in which he +laid down to rest—at every step, in short, the truth of the narrative +becomes more obvious. And yet the tale has been added to, for, unless +we may believe that some human beings are gifted with second sight, we +cannot accept as true the prophetic vision that came to Runolf, +Thorstein’s son; or that of Njal who, on the evening of the onslaught, +like Theoclymenus in the Odyssey, saw the whole board and the meats +upon it “one gore of blood.” + +Thus, in the Norse romance now offered to the reader, the tale of Eric +and his deeds would be true; but the dream of Asmund, the witchcraft of +Swanhild, the incident of the speaking head, and the visions of Eric +and Skallagrim, would owe their origin to the imagination of successive +generations of skalds; and, finally, in the fifteenth or sixteenth +century, the story would have been written down with all its +supernatural additions. + +The tendency of the human mind—and more especially of the Norse mind—is +to supply uncommon and extraordinary reasons for actions and facts that +are to be amply accounted for by the working of natural forces. +Swanhild would have needed no “familiar” to instruct her in her evil +schemes; Eric would have wanted no love-draught to bring about his +overthrow. Our common experience of mankind as it is, in opposition to +mankind as we fable it to be, is sufficient to teach us that the +passion of one and the human weakness of the other would suffice to +these ends. The natural magic, the beauty and inherent power of such a +woman as Swanhild, are things more forceful than any spell magicians +have invented, or any demon they are supposed to have summoned to their +aid. But no saga would be complete without the intervention of such +extraneous forces: the need of them was always felt, in order to throw +up the acts of heroes and heroines, and to invest their persons with an +added importance. Even Homer felt this need, and did not scruple to +introduce not only second sight, but gods and goddesses, and to bring +their supernatural agency to bear directly on the personages of his +chant, and that far more freely than any Norse sagaman. A word may be +added in explanation of the appearances of “familiars” in the shapes of +animals, an instance of which will be found in this story. It was +believed in Iceland, as now by the Finns and Eskimo, that the passions +and desires of sorcerers took visible form in such creatures as wolves +or rats. These were called “sendings,” and there are many allusions to +them in the Sagas. + +Another peculiarity that may be briefly alluded to as eminently +characteristic of the Sagas is their fatefulness. As we read we seem to +hear the voice of Doom speaking continually. “_Things will happen as +they are fated_”: that is the keynote of them all. The Norse mind had +little belief in free will, less even than we have to-day. Men and +women were born with certain characters and tendencies, given to them +in order that their lives should run in appointed channels, and their +acts bring about an appointed end. They do not these things of their +own desire, though their desires prompt them to the deeds: they do them +because they must. The Norns, as they name Fate, have mapped out their +path long and long ago; their feet are set therein, and they must tread +it to the end. Such was the conclusion of our Scandinavian ancestors—a +belief forced upon them by their intense realisation of the futility of +human hopes and schemings, of the terror and the tragedy of life, the +vanity of its desires, and the untravelled gloom or sleep, dreamless or +dreamfull, which lies beyond its end. + +Though the Sagas are entrancing, both as examples of literature of +which there is but little in the world and because of their living +interest, they are scarcely known to the English-speaking public. This +is easy to account for: it is hard to persuade the nineteenth century +world to interest itself in people who lived and events that happened a +thousand years ago. Moreover, the Sagas are undoubtedly difficult +reading. The archaic nature of the work, even in a translation; the +multitude of its actors; the Norse sagaman’s habit of interweaving +endless side-plots, and the persistence with which he introduces the +genealogy and adventures of the ancestors of every unimportant +character, are none of them to the taste of the modern reader. + +“Eric Brighteyes” therefore, is clipped of these peculiarities, and, to +some extent, is cast in the form of the romance of our own day, +archaisms being avoided as much as possible. The author will be +gratified should he succeed in exciting interest in the troubled lives +of our Norse forefathers, and still more so if his difficult experiment +brings readers to the Sagas—to the prose epics of our own race. Too +ample, too prolix, too crowded with detail, they cannot indeed vie in +art with the epics of Greece; but in their pictures of life, simple and +heroic, they fall beneath no literature in the world, save the Iliad +and the Odyssey alone. + + + + +ERIC BRIGHTEYES + + + + +CHAPTER I +HOW ASMUND THE PRIEST FOUND GROA THE WITCH + + +There lived a man in the south, before Thangbrand, Wilibald’s son, +preached the White Christ in Iceland. He was named Eric Brighteyes, +Thorgrimur’s son, and in those days there was no man like him for +strength, beauty and daring, for in all these things he was the first. +But he was not the first in good-luck. + +Two women lived in the south, not far from where the Westman Islands +stand above the sea. Gudruda the Fair was the name of the one, and +Swanhild, called the Fatherless, Groa’s daughter, was the other. They +were half-sisters, and there were none like them in those days, for +they were the fairest of all women, though they had nothing in common +except their blood and hate. + +Now of Eric Brighteyes, of Gudruda the Fair and of Swanhild the +Fatherless, there is a tale to tell. + +These two fair women saw the light in the self-same hour. But Eric +Brighteyes was their elder by five years. The father of Eric was +Thorgrimur Iron-Toe. He had been a mighty man; but in fighting with a +Baresark,[*] who fell upon him as he came up from sowing his wheat, his +foot was hewn from him, so that afterwards he went upon a wooden leg +shod with iron. Still, he slew the Baresark, standing on one leg and +leaning against a rock, and for that deed people honoured him much. +Thorgrimur was a wealthy yeoman, slow to wrath, just, and rich in +friends. Somewhat late in life he took to wife Saevuna, Thorod’s +daughter. She was the best of women, strong in mind and second-sighted, +and she could cover herself in her hair. But these two never loved each +other overmuch, and they had but one child, Eric, who was born when +Saevuna was well on in years. + +[*] The Baresarks were men on whom a passing fury of battle came; they +were usually outlawed. + + +The father of Gudruda was Asmund Asmundson, the Priest of Middalhof. He +was the wisest and the wealthiest of all men who lived in the south of +Iceland in those days, owning many farms and, also, two ships of +merchandise and one long ship of war, and having much money out at +interest. He had won his wealth by viking’s work, robbing the English +coasts, and black tales were told of his doings in his youth on the +sea, for he was a “red-hand” viking. Asmund was a handsome man, with +blue eyes and a large beard, and, moreover, was very skilled in matters +of law. He loved money much, and was feared of all. Still, he had many +friends, for as he aged he grew more kindly. He had in marriage +Gudruda, the daughter of Björn, who was very sweet and kindly of +nature, so that they called her Gudruda the Gentle. Of this marriage +there were two children, Björn and Gudruda the Fair; but Björn grew up +like his father in youth, strong and hard, and greedy of gain, while, +except for her wonderful beauty, Gudruda was her mother’s child alone. + +The mother of Swanhild the Fatherless was Groa the Witch. She was a +Finn, and it is told of her that the ship on which she sailed, trying +to run under the lee of the Westman Isles in a great gale from the +north-east, was dashed to pieces on a rock, and all those on board of +her were caught in the net of Ran[*] and drowned, except Groa herself, +who was saved by her magic art. This at the least is true, that, as +Asmund the Priest rode down by the sea-shore on the morning after the +gale, seeking for some strayed horses, he found a beautiful woman, who +wore a purple cloak and a great girdle of gold, seated on a rock, +combing her black hair and singing the while; and, at her feet, washing +to and fro in a pool, was a dead man. He asked whence she came, and she +answered: + +“Out of the Swan’s Bath.” + +[*] The Norse goddess of the sea. + + +Next, he asked her where were her kin. But, pointing to the dead man, +she said that this alone was left of them. + +“Who was the man, then?” said Asmund the Priest. + +She laughed again and sang this song:— + +Groa sails up from the Swan’s Bath, + Death Gods grip the Dead Man’s hand. +Look where lies her luckless husband, + Bolder sea-king ne’er swung sword! +Asmund, keep the kirtle-wearer, + For last night the Norns were crying, +And Groa thought they told of thee: + Yea, told of thee and babes unborn. + + +“How knowest thou my name?” asked Asmund. + +“The sea-mews cried it as the ship sank, thine and others—and they +shall be heard in story.” + +“Then that is the best of luck,” quoth Asmund; “but I think that thou +art fey.”[*] + +[*] _I.e._ subject to supernatural presentiments, generally connected +with approaching doom. + + +“Ay,” she answered, “fey and fair.” + +“True enough thou art fair. What shall we do with this dead man?” + +“Leave him in the arms of Ran. So may all husbands lie.” + +They spoke no more with her at that time, seeing that she was a +witchwoman. But Asmund took her up to Middalhof, and gave her a farm, +and she lived there alone, and he profited much by her wisdom. + +Now it chanced that Gudruda the Gentle was with child, and when her +time came she gave a daughter birth—a very fair girl, with dark eyes. +On the same day, Groa the witchwoman brought forth a girl-child, and +men wondered who was its father, for Groa was no man’s wife. It was +women’s talk that Asmund the Priest was the father of this child also; +but when he heard it he was angry, and said that no witchwoman should +bear a bairn of his, howsoever fair she was. Nevertheless, it was still +said that the child was his, and it is certain that he loved it as a +man loves his own; but of all things, this is the hardest to know. When +Groa was questioned she laughed darkly, as was her fashion, and said +that she knew nothing of it, never having seen the face of the child’s +father, who rose out of the sea at night. And for this cause some +thought him to have been a wizard or the wraith of her dead husband; +but others said that Groa lied, as many women have done on such +matters. But of all this talk the child alone remained and she was +named Swanhild. + +Now, but an hour before the child of Gudruda the Gentle was born, +Asmund went up from his house to the Temple, to tend the holy fire that +burned night and day upon the altar. When he had tended the fire, he +sat down upon the cross-benches before the shrine, and, gazing on the +image of the Goddess Freya, he fell asleep and dreamed a very evil +dream. + +He dreamed that Gudruda the Gentle bore a dove most beautiful to see, +for all its feathers were of silver; but that Groa the Witch bore a +golden snake. And the snake and the dove dwelt together, and ever the +snake sought to slay the dove. At length there came a great white swan +flying over Coldback Fell, and its tongue was a sharp sword. Now the +swan saw the dove and loved it, and the dove loved the swan; but the +snake reared itself, and hissed, and sought to kill the dove. But the +swan covered her with his wings, and beat the snake away. Then he, +Asmund, came out and drove away the swan, as the swan had driven the +snake, and it wheeled high into the air and flew south, and the snake +swam away also through the sea. But the dove drooped and now it was +blind. Then an eagle came from the north, and would have taken the +dove, but it fled round and round, crying, and always the eagle drew +nearer to it. At length, from the south the swan came back, flying +heavily, and about its neck was twined the golden snake, and with it +came a raven. And it saw the eagle and loud it trumpeted, and shook the +snake from it so that it fell like a gleam of gold into the sea. Then +the eagle and the swan met in battle, and the swan drove the eagle down +and broke it with his wings, and, flying to the dove, comforted it. But +those in the house ran out and shot at the swan with bows and drove it +away, but now he, Asmund, was not with them. And once more the dove +drooped. Again the swan came back, and with it the raven, and a great +host were gathered against them, and, among them, all of Asmund’s kith +and kin, and the men of his quarter and some of his priesthood, and +many whom he did not know by face. And the swan flew at Björn his son, +and shot out the sword of its tongue and slew him, and many a man it +slew thus. And the raven, with a beak and claws of steel, slew also +many a man, so that Asmund’s kindred fled and the swan slept by the +dove. But as it slept the golden snake crawled out of the sea, and +hissed in the ears of men, and they rose up to follow it. It came to +the swan and twined itself about its neck. It struck at the dove and +slew it. Then the swan awoke and the raven awoke, and they did battle +till all who remained of Asmund’s kindred and people were dead. But +still the snake clung about the swan’s neck, and presently snake and +swan fell into the sea, and far out on the sea there burned a flame of +fire. And Asmund awoke trembling and left the Temple. + +Now as he went, a woman came running, and weeping as she ran. + +“Haste, haste!” she cried; “a daughter is born to thee, and Gudruda thy +wife is dying!” + +“Is it so?” said Asmund; “after ill dreams ill tidings.” + +Now in the bed-closet off the great hall of Middalhof lay Gudruda the +Gentle and she was dying. + +“Art thou there, husband?” she said. + +“Even so, wife.” + +“Thou comest in an evil hour, for it is my last. Now hearken. Take thou +the new-born babe within thine arms and kiss it, and pour water over +it, and name it with my name.” + +This Asmund did. + +“Hearken, my husband. I have been a good wife to thee, though thou hast +not been all good to me. But thus shalt thou atone: thou shalt swear +that, though she is a girl, thou wilt not cast this bairn forth to +perish, but wilt cherish and nurture her.” + +“I swear it,” he said. + +“And thou shalt swear that thou wilt not take the witchwoman Groa to +wife, nor have anything to do with her, and this for thine own sake: +for, if thou dost, she will be thy death. Dost thou swear?” + +“I swear it,” he said. + +“It is well; but, husband, if thou dost break thine oath, either in the +words or in the spirit of the words, evil shall overtake thee and all +thy house. Now bid me farewell, for I die.” + +He bent over her and kissed her, and it is said that Asmund wept in +that hour, for after his fashion he loved his wife. + +“Give me the babe,” she said, “that it may lie once upon my breast.” + +They gave her the babe and she looked upon its dark eyes and said: + +“Fairest of women shalt thou be, Gudruda—fair as no woman in Iceland +ever was before thee; and thou shalt love with a mighty love—and thou +shalt lose—and, losing, thou shalt find again.” + +Now, it is said that, as she spoke these words, her face grew bright as +a spirit’s, and, having spoken them, she fell back dead. And they laid +her in earth, but Asmund mourned her much. + +But, when all was over and done, the dream that he had dreamed lay +heavy on him. Now of all diviners of dreams Groa was the most skilled, +and when Gudruda had been in earth seven full days, Asmund went to +Groa, though doubtfully, because of his oath. + +He came to the house and entered. On a couch in the chamber lay Groa, +and her babe was on her breast and she was very fair to see. + +“Greeting, lord!” she said. “What wouldest thou here?” + +“I have dreamed a dream, and thou alone canst read it.” + +“That is as it may be,” she answered. “It is true that I have some +skill in dreams. At the least I will hear it.” + +Then he unfolded it to her every word. + +“What wilt thou give me if I read thy dream?” she said. + +“What dost thou ask? Methinks I have given thee much.” + +“Yea, lord,” and she looked at the babe upon her breast. “I ask but a +little thing: that thou shalt take this bairn in thy arms, pour water +over it and name it.” + +“Men will talk if I do this, for it is the father’s part.” + +“It is a little thing what men say: talk goes by as the wind. Moreover, +thou shalt give them the lie in the child’s name, for it shall be +Swanhild the Fatherless. Nevertheless that is my price. Pay it if thou +wilt.” + +“Read me the dream and I will name the child.” + +“Nay, first name thou the babe: for then no harm shall come to her at +thy hands.” + +So Asmund took the child, poured water over her, and named her. + +Then Groa spoke: “This lord, is the reading of thy dream, else my +wisdom is at fault: The silver dove is thy daughter Gudruda, the golden +snake is my daughter Swanhild, and these two shall hate one the other +and strive against each other. But the swan is a mighty man whom both +shall love, and, if he love not both, yet shall belong to both. And +thou shalt send him away; but he shall return and bring bad luck to +thee and thy house, and thy daughter shall be blind with love of him. +And in the end he shall slay the eagle, a great lord from the north who +shall seek to wed thy daughter, and many another shall he slay, by the +help of that raven with the bill of steel who shall be with him. But +Swanhild shall triumph over thy daughter Gudruda, and this man, and the +two of them, shall die at her hands, and, for the rest, who can say? +But this is true—that the mighty man shall bring all thy race to an +end. See now, I have read thy rede.” + +Then Asmund was very wroth. “Thou wast wise to beguile me to name thy +bastard brat,” he said; “else had I been its death within this hour.” + +“This thou canst not do, lord, seeing that thou hast held it in thy +arms,” Groa answered, laughing. “Go rather and lay out Gudruda the Fair +on Coldback Hill; so shalt thou make an end of the evil, for Gudruda +shall be its very root. Learn this, moreover: that thy dream does not +tell all, seeing that thou thyself must play a part in the fate. Go, +send forth the babe Gudruda, and be at rest.” + +“That cannot be, for I have sworn to cherish it, and with an oath that +may not be broken.” + +“It is well,” laughed Groa. “Things will befall as they are fated; let +them befall in their season. There is space for cairns on Coldback and +the sea can shroud its dead!” + +And Asmund went thence, angered at heart. + + + + +CHAPTER II +HOW ERIC TOLD HIS LOVE TO GUDRUDA IN THE SNOW ON COLDBACK + + +Now, it must be told that, five years before the day of the death of +Gudruda the Gentle, Saevuna, the wife of Thorgrimur Iron-Toe, gave +birth to a son, at Coldback in the Marsh, on Ran River, and when his +father came to look upon the child he called out aloud: + +“Here we have a wondrous bairn, for his hair is yellow like gold and +his eyes shine bright as stars.” And Thorgrimur named him Eric +Brighteyes. + +Now, Coldback is but an hour’s ride from Middalhof, and it chanced, in +after years, that Thorgrimur went up to Middalhof, to keep the Yule +feast and worship in the Temple, for he was in the priesthood of Asmund +Asmundson, bringing the boy Eric with him. There also was Groa with +Swanhild, for now she dwelt at Middalhof; and the three fair children +were set together in the hall to play, and men thought it great sport +to see them. Now, Gudruda had a horse of wood and would ride it while +Eric pushed the horse along. But Swanhild smote her from the horse and +called to Eric to make it move; but he comforted Gudruda and would not, +and at that Swanhild was angry and lisped out: + +“Push thou must, if I will it, Eric.” + +Then he pushed sideways and with such good will that Swanhild fell +almost into the fire of the hearth, and, leaping up, she snatched a +brand and threw it at Gudruda, firing her clothes. Men laughed at this; +but Groa, standing apart, frowned and muttered witch-words. + +“Why lookest thou so darkly, housekeeper?” said Asmund; “the boy is +bonny and high of heart.” + +“Ah, he is bonny as no child is, and he shall be bonny all his +life-days. Nevertheless, she shall not stand against his ill luck. This +I prophesy of him: that women shall bring him to his end, and he shall +die a hero’s death, but not at the hand of his foes.” + +And now the years went by peacefully. Groa dwelt with her daughter +Swanhild up at Middalhof and was the love of Asmund Asmundson. But, +though he forgot his oath thus far, yet he would never take her to +wife. The witchwife was angered at this, and she schemed and plotted +much to bring it about that Asmund should wed her. But still he would +not, though in all things else she led him as it were by a halter. + +Twenty full years had gone by since Gudruda the Gentle was laid in +earth; and now Gudruda the Fair and Swanhild the Fatherless were women +too. Eric, too, was a man of five-and-twenty years, and no such man had +lived in Iceland. For he was strong and great of stature, his hair was +yellow as gold, and his grey eyes shone with the light of swords. He +was gentle and loving as a woman, and even as a lad his strength was +the strength of two men; and there were none in all the quarter who +could leap or swim or wrestle against Eric Brighteyes. Men held him in +honour and spoke well of him, though as yet he had done no deeds, but +lived at home on Coldback, managing the farm, for now Thorgrimur +Iron-Toe, his father, was dead. But women loved him much, and that was +his bane—for of all women he loved but one, Gudruda the Fair, Asmund’s +daughter. He loved her from a child, and her alone till his day of +death, and she, too, loved him and him only. For now Gudruda was a maid +of maids, most beautiful to see and sweet to hear. Her hair, like the +hair of Eric, was golden, and she was white as the snow on Hecla; but +her eyes were large and dark, and black lashes drooped above them. For +the rest she was tall and strong and comely, merry of face, yet tender, +and the most witty of women. + +Swanhild also was very fair; she was slender, small of limb, and dark +of hue, having eyes blue as the deep sea, and brown curling hair, +enough to veil her to the knees, and a mind of which none knew the end, +for, though she was open in her talk, her thoughts were dark and +secret. This was her joy: to draw the hearts of men to her and then to +mock them. She beguiled many in this fashion, for she was the +cunningest girl in matters of love, and she knew well the arts of +women, with which they bring men to nothing. Nevertheless she was cold +at heart, and desired power and wealth greatly, and she studied magic +much, of which her mother Groa also had a store. But Swanhild, too, +loved a man, and that was the joint in her harness by which the shaft +of Fate entered her heart, for that man was Eric Brighteyes, who loved +her not. But she desired him so sorely that, without him, all the world +was dark to her, and her soul but as a ship driven rudderless upon a +winter night. Therefore she put out all her strength to win him, and +bent her witcheries upon him, and they were not few nor small. +Nevertheless they went by him like the wind, for he dreamed ever of +Gudruda alone, and he saw no eyes but hers, though as yet they spoke no +word of love one to the other. + +But Swanhild in her wrath took counsel with her mother Groa, though +there was little liking between them; and, when she had heard the +maiden’s tale, Groa laughed aloud: + +“Dost think me blind, girl?” she said; “all of this I have seen, yea +and foreseen, and I tell thee thou art mad. Let this yeoman Eric go and +I will find thee finer fowl to fly at.” + +“Nay, that I will not,” quoth Swanhild: “for I love this man alone, and +I would win him; and Gudruda I hate, and I would overthrow her. Give me +of thy counsel.” + +Groa laughed again. “Things must be as they are fated. This now is my +rede: Asmund would turn Gudruda’s beauty to account, and that man must +be rich in friends and money who gets her to wife, and in this matter +the mind of Björn is as the mind of his father. Now we will watch, and, +when a good time chances, we will bear tales of Gudruda to Asmund and +to her brother Björn, and swear that she oversteps her modesty with +Eric. Then shall Asmund be wroth and drive Eric from Gudruda’s side. +Meanwhile, I will do this: In the north there dwells a man mighty in +all things and blown up with pride. He is named Ospakar Blacktooth. His +wife is but lately dead, and he has given out that he will wed the +fairest maid in Iceland. Now, it is in my mind to send Koll the +Half-witted, my thrall, whom Asmund gave to me, to Ospakar as though by +chance. He is a great talker and very clever, for in his half-wits is +more cunning than in the brains of most; and he shall so bepraise +Gudruda’s beauty that Ospakar will come hither to ask her in marriage; +and in this fashion, if things go well, thou shalt be rid of thy rival, +and I of one who looks scornfully upon me. But, if this fail, then +there are two roads left on which strong feet may travel to their end; +and of these, one is that thou shouldest win Eric away with thine own +beauty, and that is not little. All men are frail, and I have a draught +that will make the heart as wax; but yet the other path is surer.” + +“And what is that path, my mother?” + +“It runs through blood to blackness. By thy side is a knife and in +Gudruda’s bosom beats a heart. Dead women are unmeet for love!” + +Swanhild tossed her head and looked upon the dark face of Groa her +mother. + +“Methinks, with such an end to win, I should not fear to tread that +path, if there be need, my mother.” + +“Now I see thou art indeed my daughter. Happiness is to the bold. To +each it comes in uncertain shape. Some love power, some wealth, and +some—a man. Take that which thou lovest—I say, cut thy path to it and +take it; else shall thy life be but a weariness: for what does it serve +to win the wealth and power when thou lovest a man alone, or the man +when thou dost desire gold and the pride of place? This is wisdom: to +satisfy the longing of thy youth; for age creeps on apace and beyond is +darkness. Therefore, if thou seekest this man, and Gudruda blocks thy +path, slay her, girl—by witchcraft or by steel—and take him, and in his +arms forget that thine own are red. But first let us try the easier +plan. Daughter, I too hate this proud girl, who scorns me as her +father’s light-of-love. I too long to see that bright head of hers dull +with the dust of death, or, at the least, those proud eyes weeping +tears of shame as the man she hates leads her hence as a bride. Were it +not for her I should be Asmund’s wife, and, when she is gone, with thy +help—for he loves thee much and has cause to love thee—this I may be +yet. So in this matter, if in no other, let us go hand in hand and +match our wits against her innocence.” + +“So be it,” said Swanhild; “fail me not and fear not that I shall fail +thee.” + +Now, Koll the Half-witted went upon his errand, and the time passed +till it lacked but a month to Yule, and men sat indoors, for the season +was dark and much snow fell. At length came frost, and with it a clear +sky, and Gudruda, ceasing from her spinning in the hall, went to the +woman’s porch, and, looking out, saw that the snow was hard, and a +great longing came upon her to breathe the fresh air, for there was +still an hour of daylight. So she threw a cloak about her and walked +forth, taking the road towards Coldback in the Marsh that is by Ran +River. But Swanhild watched her till she was over the hill. Then she +also took a cloak and followed on that path, for she always watched +Gudruda. + +Gudruda walked on for the half of an hour or so, when she became aware +that the clouds gathered in the sky, and that the air was heavy with +snow to come. Seeing this she turned homewards, and Swanhild hid +herself to let her pass. Now flakes floated down as big and soft as +fifa flowers. Quicker and more quick they came till all the plain was +one white maze of mist, but through it Gudruda walked on, and after her +crept Swanhild, like a shadow. And now the darkness gathered and the +snow fell thick and fast, covering up the track of her footsteps and +she wandered from the path, and after her wandered Swanhild, being +loath to show herself. For an hour or more Gudruda wandered and then +she called aloud and her voice fell heavily against the cloak of snow. +At the last she grew weary and frightened, and sat down upon a shelving +rock whence the snow had slipped away. Now, a little way behind was +another rock and there Swanhild sat, for she wished to be unseen of +Gudruda. So some time passed, and Swanhild grew heavy as though with +sleep, when of a sudden a moving thing loomed upon the snowy darkness. +Then Gudruda leapt to her feet and called. A man’s voice answered: + +“Who passes there?” + +“I, Gudruda, Asmund’s daughter.” + +The form came nearer; now Swanhild could hear the snorting of a horse, +and now a man leapt from it, and that man was Eric Brighteyes. + +“Is it thou indeed, Gudruda!” he said with a laugh, and his great shape +showed darkly on the snow mist. + +“Oh, is it thou, Eric?” she answered. “I was never more joyed to see +thee; for of a truth thou dost come in a good hour. A little while and +I had seen thee no more, for my eyes grow heavy with the death-sleep.” + +“Nay, say not so. Art lost, then? Why, so am I. I came out to seek +three horses that are strayed, and was overtaken by the snow. May they +dwell in Odin’s stables, for they have led me to thee. Art thou cold, +Gudruda?” + +“But a little, Eric. Yea, there is place for thee here on the rock.” + +So he sat down by her on the stone, and Swanhild crept nearer; for now +all weariness had left her. But still the snow fell thick. + +“It comes into my mind that we two shall die here,” said Gudruda +presently. + +“Thinkest thou so?” he answered. “Well, I will say this, that I ask no +better end.” + +“It is a bad end for thee, Eric: to be choked in snow, and with all thy +deeds to do.” + +“It is a good end, Gudruda, to die at thy side, for so I shall die +happy; but I grieve for thee.” + +“Grieve not for me, Brighteyes, worse things might befall.” + +He drew nearer to her, and now he put his arms about her and clasped +her to his bosom; nor did she say him nay. Swanhild saw and lifted +herself up behind them, but for a while she heard nothing but the +beating of her heart. + +“Listen, Gudruda,” Eric said at last. “Death draws near to us, and +before it comes I would speak to thee, if speak I may.” + +“Speak on,” she whispers from his breast. + +“This I would say, then: that I love thee, and that I ask no better +fate than to die in thy arms.” + +“First shalt thou see me die in thine, Eric.” + +“Be sure, if that is so, I shall not tarry for long. Oh! Gudruda, since +I was a child I have loved thee with a mighty love, and now thou art +all to me. Better to die thus than to live without thee. Speak, then, +while there is time.” + +“I will not hide from thee, Eric, that thy words are sweet in my ears.” + +And now Gudruda sobs and the tears fall fast from her dark eyes. + +“Nay, weep not. Dost thou, then, love me?” + +“Ay, sure enough, Eric.” + +“Then kiss me before we pass. A man should not die thus, and yet men +have died worse.” + +And so these two kissed, for the first time, out in the snow on +Coldback, and that first kiss was long and sweet. + +Swanhild heard and her blood seethed within her as water seethes in a +boiling spring when the fires wake beneath. She put her hand to her +kirtle and gripped the knife at her side. She half drew it, then drove +it back. + +“Cold kills as sure as steel,” she said in her heart. “If I slay her I +cannot save myself or him. Let us die in peace, and let the snow cover +up our troubling.” And once more she listened. + +“Ah, sweet,” said Eric, “even in the midst of death there is hope of +life. Swear to me, then, that if by chance we live thou wilt love me +always as thou lovest me now.” + +“Ay, Eric, I swear that and readily.” + +“And swear, come what may, that thou wilt wed no man but me.” + +“I swear, if thou dost remain true to me, that I will wed none but +thee, Eric.” + +“Then I am sure of thee.” + +“Boast not overmuch, Eric: if thou dost live thy days are all before +thee, and with times come trials.” + +Now the snow whirled down faster and more thick, till these two, +clasped heart to heart, were but a heap of white, and all white was the +horse, and Swanhild was nearly buried. + +“Where go we when we die, Eric?” said Gudruda; “in Odin’s house there +is no place for maids, and how shall my feet fare without thee?” + +“Nay, sweet, my May, Valhalla shuts its gates to me, a deedless man; up +Bifrost’s rainbow bridge I may not travel, for I do not die with byrnie +on breast and sword aloft. To Hela shall we go, and hand in hand.” + +“Art thou sure, Eric, that men find these abodes? To say sooth, at +times I misdoubt me of them.” + +“I am not so sure but that I also doubt. Still, I know this: that where +thou goest there I shall be, Gudruda.” + +“Then things are well, and well work the Norns.[*] Still, Eric, of a +sudden I grow fey: for it comes upon me that I shall not die to-night, +but that, nevertheless, I shall die with thy arms about me, and at thy +side. There, I see it on the snow! I lie by thee, sleeping, and one +comes with hands outstretched and sleep falls from them like a mist—by +Freya, it is Swanhild’s self! Oh! it is gone.” + +[*] The Northern Fates. + + +“It was nothing, Gudruda, but a vision of the snow—an untimely dream +that comes before the sleep. I grow cold and my eyes are heavy; kiss me +once again.” + +“It was no dream, Eric, and ever I doubt me of Swanhild, for I think +she loves thee also, and she is fair and my enemy,” says Gudruda, +laying her snow-cold lips on his lips. “Oh, Eric, awake! awake! See, +the snow is done.” + +He stumbled to his feet and looked forth. Lo! out across the sky flared +the wild Northern fires, throwing light upon the darkness. + +“Now it seems that I know the land,” said Eric. “Look: yonder are +Golden Falls, though we did not hear them because of the snow; and +there, out at sea, loom the Westmans; and that dark thing is the Temple +Hof, and behind it stands the stead. We are saved, Gudruda, and thus +far indeed thou wast fey. Now rise, ere thy limbs stiffen, and I will +set thee on the horse, if he still can run, and lead thee down to +Middalhof before the witchlights fail us.” + +“So it shall be, Eric.” + +Now he led Gudruda to the horse—that, seeing its master, snorted and +shook the snow from its coat, for it was not frozen—and set her on the +saddle, and put his arm about her waist, and they passed slowly through +the deep snow. And Swanhild, too, crept from her place, for her burning +rage had kept the life in her, and followed after them. Many times she +fell, and once she was nearly swallowed in a drift of snow and cried +out in her fear. + +“Who called aloud?” said Eric, turning; “I thought I heard a voice.” + +“Nay,” answers Gudruda, “it was but a night-hawk screaming.” + +Now Swanhild lay quiet in the drift, but she said in her heart: + +“Ay, a night-hawk that shall tear out those dark eyes of thine, mine +enemy!” + +The two go on and at length they come to the banked roadway that runs +past the Temple to Asmund’s hall. Here Swanhild leaves them, and, +climbing over the turf-wall into the home meadow, passes round the hall +by the outbuildings and so comes to the west end of the house, and +enters by the men’s door unnoticed of any. For all the people, seeing a +horse coming and a woman seated on it, were gathered in front of the +hall. But Swanhild ran to that shut bed where she slept, and, closing +the curtain, threw off her garments, shook the snow from her hair, and +put on a linen kirtle. Then she rested a while, for she was weary, and, +going to the kitchen, warmed herself at the fire. + +Meanwhile Eric and Gudruda came to the house and there Asmund greeted +them well, for he was troubled in his heart about his daughter, and +very glad to know her living, seeing that men had but now begun to +search for her, because of the snow and the darkness. + +Now Gudruda told her tale, but not all of it, and Asmund bade Eric to +the house. Then one asked about Swanhild, and Eric said that he had +seen nothing of her, and Asmund was sad at this, for he loved Swanhild. +But as he told all men to go and search, an old wife came and said that +Swanhild was in the kitchen, and while the carline spoke she came into +the hall, dressed in white, very pale, and with shining eyes and fair +to see. + +“Where hast thou been, Swanhild?” said Asmund. “I thought certainly +thou wast perishing with Gudruda in the snow, and now all men go to +seek thee while the witchlights burn.” + +“Nay, foster-father, I have been to the Temple,” she answered, lying. +“So Gudruda has but narrowly escaped the snow, thanks be to Brighteyes +yonder! Surely I am glad of it, for we could ill spare our sweet +sister,” and, going up to her, she kissed her. But Gudruda saw that her +eyes burned like fire and felt that her lips were cold as ice, and +shrank back wondering. + + + + +CHAPTER III +HOW ASMUND BADE ERIC TO HIS YULE-FEAST + + +Now it was supper-time and men sat at meat while the women waited upon +them. But as she went to and fro, Gudruda always looked at Eric, and +Swanhild watched them both. Supper being over, people gathered round +the hearth, and, having finished her service, Gudruda came and sat by +Eric, so that her sleeve might touch his. They spoke no word, but there +they sat and were happy. Swanhild saw and bit her lip. Now, she was +seated by Asmund and Björn his son. + +“Look, foster-father,” she said; “yonder sit a pretty pair!” + +“That cannot be denied,” answered Asmund. “One may ride many days to +see such another man as Eric Brighteyes, and no such maid as Gudruda +flowers between Middalhof and London town, unless it be thou, Swanhild. +Well, so her mother said that it should be, and without doubt she was +foresighted at her death.” + +“Nay, name me not with Gudruda, foster-father; I am but a grey goose by +thy white swan. But these shall be well wed and that will be a good +match for Eric.” + +“Let not thy tongue run on so fast,” said Asmund sharply. “Who told +thee that Eric should have Gudruda?” + +“None told me, but in truth, having eyes and ears, I grew certain of +it,” said Swanhild. “Look at them now: surely lovers wear such faces.” + +Now it chanced that Gudruda had rested her chin on her hand, and was +gazing into Eric’s eyes beneath the shadow of her hair. + +“Methinks my sister will look higher than to wed a simple yeoman, +though he is large as two other men,” said Björn with a sneer. Now +Björn was jealous of Eric’s strength and beauty, and did not love him. + +“Trust nothing that thou seest and little that thou hearest, girl,” +said Asmund, raising himself from thought: “so shall thy guesses be +good. Eric, come here and tell us how thou didst chance on Gudruda in +the snow.” + +“I was not so ill seated but that I could bear to stay,” grumbled Eric +beneath his breath; but Gudruda said “Go.” + +So he went and told his tale; but not all of it, for he intended to ask +Gudruda in marriage on the morrow, though his heart prophesied no luck +in the matter, and therefore he was not overswift with it. + +“In this thing thou hast done me and mine good service,” said Asmund +coldly, searching Eric’s face with his blue eyes. “It had been sad if +my fair daughter had perished in the snow, for, know this: I would set +her high in marriage, for her honour and the honour of my house, and so +some rich and noble man had lost great joy. But take thou this gift in +memory of the deed, and Gudruda’s husband shall give thee another such +upon the day that he makes her wife,” and he drew a gold ring off his +arm. + +Now Eric’s knees trembled as he heard, and his heart grew faint as +though with fear. But he answered clear and straight: + +“Thy gift had been better without thy words, ring-giver; but I pray +thee to take it back, for I have done nothing to win it, though perhaps +the time will come when I shall ask thee for a richer.” + +“My gifts have never been put away before,” said Asmund, growing angry. + +“This wealthy farmer holds the good gold of little worth. It is foolish +to take fish to the sea, my father,” sneered Björn. + +“Nay, Björn, not so,” Eric answered: “but, as thou sayest, I am but a +farmer, and since my father, Thorgrimur Iron-Toe, died things have not +gone too well on Ran River. But at the least I am a free man, and I +will take no gifts that I cannot repay worth for worth. Therefore I +will not have the ring.” + +“As thou wilt,” said Asmund. “Pride is a good horse if thou ridest +wisely,” and he thrust the ring back upon his arm. + +Then people go to rest; but Swanhild seeks her mother, and tells her +all that has befallen her, nor does Groa fail to listen. + +“Now I will make a plan,” she says, “for these things have chanced well +and Asmund is in a ripe humour. Eric shall come no more to Middalhof +till Gudruda is gone hence, led by Ospakar Blacktooth.” + +“And if Eric does not come here, how shall I see his face? for, mother, +I long for the sight of it.” + +“That is thy matter, thou lovesick fool. Know this: that if Eric comes +hither and gets speech with Gudruda, there is an end of thy hopes; for, +fair as thou art, she is too fair for thee, and, strong as thou art, in +a way she is too strong. Thou hast heard how these two love, and such +loves mock at the will of fathers. Eric will win his desire or die +beneath the swords of Asmund and Björn, if such men can prevail against +his might. Nay, the wolf Eric must be fenced from the lamb till he +grows hungry. Then let him search the fold and make spoil of thee, for, +when the best is gone, he will desire the good.” + +“So be it, mother. As I sat crouched behind Gudruda in the snow at +Coldback, I had half a mind to end her love-words with this knife, for +so I should have been free of her.” + +“Yes, and fast in the doom-ring, thou wildcat. The gods help this Eric, +if thou winnest him. Nay, choose thy time and, if thou must strike, +strike secretly and home. Remember also that cunning is mightier than +strength, that lies pierce further than swords, and that witchcraft +wins where honesty must fail. Now I will go to Asmund, and he shall be +an angry man before to-morrow comes.” + +Then Groa went to the shut bed where Asmund the Priest slept. He was +sitting on the bed and asked her why she came. + +“For love of thee, Asmund, and thy house, though thou dost treat me +ill, who hast profited so much by me and my foresight. Say now: wilt +thou that this daughter of thine, Gudruda the Fair, should be the light +May of yonder long-legged yeoman?” + +“That is not in my mind,” said Asmund, stroking his beard. + +“Knowest thou, then, that this very day your white Gudruda sat on +Eric’s lap in the snow, while he fondled her to his heart’s content?” + +“Most likely it was for warmth. Men do not dream on love in the hour of +death. Who saw this?” + +“Swanhild, who was behind, and hid herself for shame, and therefore she +held that these two must soon be wed! Ah, thou art foolish now, Asmund. +Young blood makes light of cold or death. Art thou blind, or dost thou +not see that these two turn on each other like birds at nesting-time?” + +“They might do worse,” said Asmund, “for they are a proper pair, and it +seems to me that each was born for each.” + +“Then all goes well. Still, it is a pity to see so fair a maid cast +like rotten bait upon the waters to hook this troutlet of a yeoman. +Thou hast enemies, Asmund; thou art too prosperous, and there are many +who hate thee for thy state and wealth. Were it not wise to use this +girl of thine to build a wall about thee against the evil day?” + +“I have been more wont, housekeeper, to trust to my own arm than to +bought friends. But tell me, for at the least thou art far-seeing, how +may this be done? As things are, though I spoke roughly to him last +night, I am inclined to let Eric Brighteyes take Gudruda. I have always +loved the lad, and he will go far.” + +“Listen, Asmund! Surely thou hast heard of Ospakar Blacktooth—the +priest who dwells in the north?” + +“Ay, I have heard of him, and I know him; there is no man like him for +ugliness, or strength, or wealth and power. We sailed together on a +viking cruise many years ago, and he did things at which my blood +turned, and in those days I had no chicken heart.” + +“With time men change their temper. Unless I am mistaken, this Ospakar +wishes above all to have Gudruda in marriage, for, now that everything +is his, this alone is left for him to ask—the fairest woman in Iceland +as a housewife. Think then, with Ospakar for a son-in-law, who is there +that can stand against thee?” + +“I am not so sure of this matter, nor do I altogether trust thee, Groa. +Of a truth it seems to me that thou hast some stake upon the race. This +Ospakar is evil and hideous. It were a shame to give Gudruda over to +him when she looks elsewhere. Knowest thou that I swore to love and +cherish her, and how runs this with my oath? If Eric is not too rich, +yet he is of good birth and kin, and, moreover, a man of men. If he +take her good will come of it.” + +“It is like thee, Asmund, always to mistrust those who spend their days +in plotting for thy weal. Do as thou wilt: let Eric take this treasure +of thine—for whom earls would give their state—and live to rue it. But +I say this: if he have thy leave to roam here with his dove the matter +will soon grow, for these two sicken each to each, and young blood is +hot and ill at waiting, and it is not always snow-time. So betroth her +or let him go. And now I have said.” + +“Thy tongue runs too fast. The man is quite unproved and I will try +him. To-morrow I will warn him from my door; then things shall go as +they are fated. And now peace, for I weary of thy talk, and, moreover, +it is false; for thou lackest one thing—a little honesty to season all +thy craft. What fee has Ospakar paid thee, I wonder. Thou at least +hadst never refused the gold ring to-night, for thou wouldst do much +for gold.” + +“And more for love, and most of all for hate,” Groa said, and laughed +aloud; nor did they speak more on this matter that night. + +Now, early in the morning Asmund rose, and, going to the hall, awoke +Eric, who slept by the centre hearth, saying that he would talk with +him without. Then Eric followed him to the back of the hall. + +“Say now, Eric,” he said, when they stood in the grey light outside the +house, “who was it taught thee that kisses keep out the cold on snowy +days?” + +Now Eric reddened to his yellow hair, but he answered: “Who was it told +thee, lord, that I tried this medicine?” + +“The snow hides much, but there are eyes that can pierce the snow. Nay, +more, thou wast seen, and there’s an end. Now know this—I like thee +well, but Gudruda is not for thee; she is far above thee, who art but a +deedless yeoman.” + +“Then I love to no end,” said Eric; “I long for one thing only, and +that is Gudruda. It was in my mind to ask her in marriage of thee +to-day.” + +“Then, lad, thou hast thy answer before thou askest. Be sure of one +thing: if but once again I find thee alone with Gudruda, it is my axe +shall kiss thee and not her lips.” + +“That may yet be put to the proof, lord,” said Eric, and turned to seek +his horse, when suddenly Gudruda came and stood between them, and his +heart leapt at the sight of her. + +“Listen, Gudruda,” Eric said. “This is thy father’s word: that we two +speak together no more.” + +“Then it is an ill saying for us,” said Gudruda, laying her hand upon +her breast. + +“Saying good or ill, so it surely is, girl,” answered Asmund. “No more +shalt thou go a-kissing, in the snow or in the flowers.” + +“Now I seem to hear Swanhild’s voice,” she said. “Well, such things +have happened to better folk, and a father’s wish is to a maid what the +wind is to the grass. Still, the sun is behind the cloud and it will +shine again some day. Till then, Eric, fare thee well!” + +“It is not thy will, lord,” said Eric, “that I should come to thy +Yule-feast as thou hast asked me these ten years past?” + +Now Asmund grew wroth, and pointed with his hand towards the great +Golden Falls that thunder down the mountain named Stonefell that is +behind Middalhof, and there are no greater water-falls in Iceland. + +“A man may take two roads, Eric, from Coldback to Middalhof, one by the +bridle-path over Coldback and the other down Golden Falls; but I never +knew traveller to choose this way. Now, I bid thee to my feast by the +path over Golden Falls; and, if thou comest that way, I promise thee +this: if thou livest I will greet thee well, and if I find thee dead in +the great pool I will bind on thy Hell-shoes and lay thee to earth +neighbourly fashion. But if thou comest by any other path, then my +thralls shall cut thee down at my door.” And he stroked his beard and +laughed. + +Now Asmund spoke thus mockingly because he did not think it possible +that any man should try the path of the Golden Falls. + +Eric smiled and said, “I hold thee to thy word, lord; perhaps I shall +be thy guest at Yule.” + +But Gudruda heard the thunder of the mighty Falls as the wind turned, +and cried “Nay, nay—it were thy death!” + +Then Eric finds his horse and rides away across the snow. + +Now it must be told of Koll the Half-witted that at length he came to +Swinefell in the north, having journeyed hard across the snow. Here +Ospakar Blacktooth had his great hall, in which day by day a hundred +men sat down to meat. Now Koll entered the hall when Ospakar was at +supper, and looked at him with big eyes, for he had never seen so +wonderful a man. He was huge in stature—his hair was black, and black +his beard, and on his lower lip there lay a great black fang. His eyes +were small and narrow, but his cheekbones were set wide apart and high, +like those of a horse. Koll thought him an ill man to deal with and +half a troll,[*] and grew afraid of his errand, since in Koll’s +half-wittedness there was much cunning—for it was a cloak in which he +wrapped himself. But as Ospakar sat in the high seat, clothed in a +purple robe, with his sword Whitefire on his knee, he saw Koll, and +called out in a great voice: + +[*] An able-bodied Goblin. + + +“Who is this red fox that creeps into my earth?” + +For, to look at, Koll was very like a fox. + +“My name is Koll the Half-witted, Groa’s thrall, lord. Am I welcome +here?” he answered. + +“That is as it may be. Why do they call thee half-witted?” + +“Because I love not work overmuch, lord.” + +“Then all my thralls are fellow to thee. Say, what brings thee here?” + +“This, lord. It was told among men down in the south that thou wouldst +give a good gift to him who should discover to thee the fairest maid in +Iceland. So I asked leave of my mistress to come on a journey and tell +thee of her.” + +“Then a lie was told thee. Still, I love to hear of fair maids, and +seek one for a wife if she be but fair enough. So speak on, Koll the +Fox, and lie not to me, I warn thee, else I will knock what wits are +left there from that red head of thine.” + +So Koll took up the tale and greatly bepraised Gudruda’s beauty; nor in +truth, for all his talk, could he praise it too much. He told of her +dark eyes and the whiteness of her skin, of the nobleness of her shape +and the gold of her hair, of her wit and gentleness, till at length +Ospakar grew afire to see this flower of maids. + +“By Thor, thou Koll,” he said, “if the girl be but half of what thou +sayest, her luck is good, for she shall be wife to Ospakar. But if thou +hast lied to me about her, beware! for soon there shall be a knave the +less in Iceland.” + +Now a man rose in the hall and said that Koll spoke truth, for he had +seen Gudruda the Fair, Asmund’s daughter, and there was no maid like +her in Iceland. + +“I will do this now,” said Blacktooth. “To-morrow I will send a +messenger to Middalhof, saying to Asmund the Priest that I purpose to +visit him at the time of the Yule-feast; then I shall see if the girl +pleases me. Meanwhile, Koll, take thou a seat among the thralls, and +here is something for thy pains,” and he took off the purple cloak and +threw it to him. + +“Thanks to thee, Gold-scatterer,” said Koll. “It is wise to go soon to +Middalhof, for such a bloom as this maid does not lack a bee. There is +a youngling in the south, named Eric Brighteyes, who loves Gudruda, and +she, I think, loves him, though he is but a yeoman of small wealth and +is only twenty-five years old.” + +“Ho! ho!” laughed great Ospakar, “and I am forty-five. But let not this +suckling cross my desire, lest men call him Eric Holloweyes!” + +Now the messenger of Ospakar came to Middalhof, and his words pleased +Asmund and he made ready a great feast. And Swanhild smiled, but +Gudruda was afraid. + + + + +CHAPTER IV +HOW ERIC CAME DOWN GOLDEN FALLS + + +Now Ospakar rode up to Middalhof on the day before the Yule-feast. He +was splendidly apparelled, and with him came his two sons, Gizur the +Lawman and Mord, young men of promise, and many armed thralls and +servants. Gudruda, watching at the women’s door, saw his face in the +moonlight and loathed him. + +“What thinkest thou of him who comes to seek thee in marriage, +foster-sister?” asked Swanhild, watching at her side. + +“I think he is like a troll, and that, seek as he will, he shall not +find me. I had rather lie in the pool beneath Golden Falls than in +Ospakar’s hall.” + +“That shall be proved,” said Swanhild. “At the least he is rich and +noble, and the greatest of men in size. It would go hard with Eric were +those arms about him.” + +“I am not so sure of that,” said Gudruda; “but it is not likely to be +known.” + +“Comes Eric to the feast by the road of Golden Falls, Gudruda?” + +“Nay, no man may try that path and live.” + +“Then he will die, for Eric will risk it.” + +Now Gudruda thought, and a great fire burned in her heart and shone +through her eyes. “If Eric dies,” she said, “on thee be his blood, +Swanhild—on thee and that dark mother of thine, for ye have plotted to +bring this evil on us. How have I harmed thee that thou shouldst deal +thus with me?” + +Swanhild turned white and wicked-looking, for passion mastered her, and +she gazed into Gudruda’s face and answered: “How hast thou harmed me? +Surely I will tell thee. Thy beauty has robbed me of Eric’s love.” + +“It would be better to prate of Eric’s love when he had told it thee, +Swanhild.” + +“Thou hast robbed me and therefore I hate thee, and therefore I will +deliver thee to Ospakar, whom thou dost loath—ay and yet win Brighteyes +to myself. Am I not also fair and can I not also love, and shall I see +thee snatch my joy? By the Gods, never! I will see thee dead, and Eric +with thee, ere it shall be so! but first I will see thee shamed!” + +“Thy words are ill-suited to a maiden’s lips, Swanhild! But of this be +sure: I fear thee not, and shall never fear thee. And one thing I know +well that, whether thou or I prevail, in the end thou shalt harvest the +greatest shame, and in times to come men shall speak of thee with +hatred and name thee by ill names. Moreover, Eric shall never love +thee; from year to year he shall hate thee with a deeper hate, though +it may well be that thou wilt bring ruin on him. And now I thank thee +that thou hast told me all thy mind, showing me what indeed thou art!” +And Gudruda turned scornfully upon her heel and walked away. + +Now Asmund the Priest went out into the courtyard, and meeting Ospakar +Blacktooth, greeted him heartily, though he did not like his looks, and +took him by the hand and led him to the hall, that was bravely decked +with tapestries, and seated him by his side on the high seat. And +Ospakar’s thralls brought good gifts for Asmund, who thanked the giver +well. + +Now it was supper time, and Gudruda came in, and after her walked +Swanhild. Ospakar gazed hard at Gudruda and a great desire entered into +him to make her his wife. But she passed coldly by, nor looked on him +at all. + +“This, then, is that maid of thine of whom I have heard tell, Asmund? I +will say this: fairer was never born of woman.” + +Then men ate and Ospakar drank much ale, but all the while he stared at +Gudruda and listened for her voice. But as yet he said nothing of what +he came to seek, though all knew his errand. And his two sons, Gizur +and Mord, stared also at Gudruda, for they thought her most wonderfully +fair. But Gizur found Swanhild also fair. + +And so the night wore on till it was time to sleep. + +On this same day Eric rode up from his farm on Ran River and took his +road along the brow of Coldback till he came to Stonefell. Now all +along Coldback and Stonefell is a steep cliff facing to the south, that +grows ever higher till it comes to that point where Golden River falls +over it and, parting its waters below, runs east and west—the branch to +the east being called Ran River and that to the west Laxà—for these two +streams girdle round the rich plain of Middalhof, till at length they +reach the sea. But in the midst of Golden River, on the edge of the +cliff, a mass of rock juts up called Sheep-saddle, dividing the waters +of the fall, and over this the spray flies, and in winter the ice +gathers, but the river does not cover it. The great fall is thirty +fathoms deep, and shaped like a horseshoe, of which the points lie +towards Middalhof. Yet if he could but gain the Sheep-saddle rock that +divides the midst of the waters, a strong and hardy man might climb +down some fifteen fathoms of this depth and scarcely wet his feet. + +Now here at the foot of Sheep-saddle rock the double arches of waters +meet, and fall in one torrent into the bottomless pool below. But, some +three fathoms from this point of the meeting waters, and beneath it, +just where the curve is deepest, a single crag, as large as a +drinking-table and no larger, juts through the foam, and, if a man +could reach it, he might leap from it some twelve fathoms, sheer into +the spray-hidden pit beneath, there to sink or swim as it might befall. +This crag is called Wolf’s Fang. + +Now Eric stood for a long while on the edge of the fall and looked, +measuring every thing with his eye. Then he went up above, where the +river swirls down to the precipice, and looked again, for it is from +this bank that the dividing island-rock Sheep-saddle must be reached. + +“A man may hardly do this thing; yet I will try it,” he said to himself +at last. “My honour shall be great for the feat, if I chance to live, +and if I die—well, there is an end of troubling after maids and all +other things.” + +So he went home and sat silent that evening. Now, since Thorgrimur +Iron-Toe’s death, his housewife, Saevuna, Eric’s mother, had grown dim +of sight, and, though she peered and peered again from her seat in the +ingle nook, she could not see the face of her son. + +“What ails thee, Eric, that thou sittest so silent? Was not the meat, +then, to thy mind at supper?” + +“Yes, mother, the meat was well enough, though a little undersmoked.” + +“Now I see that thou art not thyself, son, for thou hadst no meat, but +only stock-fish—and I never knew a man forget his supper on the night +of its eating, except he was distraught or deep in love.” + +“Was it so?” said Brighteyes. + +“What troubles thee, Eric?—that sweet lass yonder?” + +“Ay, somewhat, mother.” + +“What more, then?” + +“This, that I go down Golden Falls to-morrow, and I do not know how I +may come from Sheep-saddle rock to Wolf’s Fang crag and keep my life +whole in me; and now, I pray thee, weary me not with words, for my +brain is slow, and I must use it.” + +When she heard this Saevuna screamed aloud, and threw herself before +Eric, praying him to forgo his mad venture. But he would not listen to +her, for he was slow to make up his mind, but, that being made up, +nothing could change it. Then, when she learned that it was to get +sight of Gudruda that he purposed thus to throw his life away, she was +very angry and cursed her and all her kith and kin. + +“It is likely enough that thou wilt have cause to use such words before +all this tale is told,” said Eric; “nevertheless, mother, forbear to +curse Gudruda, who is in no way to blame for these matters.” + +“Thou art a faithless son,” Saevuna said, “who wilt slay thyself +striving to win speech with thy May, and leave thy mother childless.” + +Eric said that it seemed so indeed, but he was plighted to it and the +feat must be tried. Then he kissed her, and she sought her bed, +weeping. + +Now it was the day of the Yule-feast, and there was no sun till one +hour before noon. But Eric, having kissed his mother and bidden her +farewell, called a thrall, Jon by name, and giving him a sealskin bag +full of his best apparel, bade him ride to Middalhof and tell Asmund +the Priest that Eric Brighteyes would come down Golden Falls an hour +after mid-day, to join his feast; and thence go to the foot of the +Golden Falls, to await him there. And the man went, wondering, for he +thought his master mad. + +Then Eric took a good rope, and a staff tipped with iron, and, so soon +as the light served, mounted his horse, forded Ran River, and rode +along Coldback till he came to the lip of Golden Falls. Here he stayed +a while till at length he saw many people streaming up the snow from +Middalhof far beneath, and, among them, two women who by their stature +should be Gudruda and Swanhild, and, near to them, a great man whom he +did not know. Then he showed himself for a space on the brink of the +gulf and turned his horse up stream. The sun shone bright upon the edge +of the sky, but the frost bit like a sword. Still, he must strip off +his garments, so that nothing remained on him except his sheepskin +shoes, shirt and hose, and take the water. Now here the river runs +mightily, and he must cross full thirty fathoms of the swirling water +before he can reach Sheep-saddle, and woe to him if his foot slip on +the boulders, for certainly he must be swept over the brink. + +Eric rested the staff against the stony bottom and, leaning his weight +on it, took the stream, and he was so strong that it could not prevail +against him till at length he was rather more than half-way across and +the water swept above his shoulders. Now he was lifted from his feet +and, letting the staff float, he swam for his life, and with such +mighty strokes that he felt little of that icy cold. Down he was +swept—now the lip of the fall was but three fathoms away on his left, +and already the green water boiled beneath him. A fathom from him was +the corner of Sheep-saddle. If he may grasp it, all is well; if not, he +dies. + +Three great strokes and he held it. His feet were swept out over the +brink of the fall, but he clung on grimly, and by the strength of his +arms drew himself on to the rock and rested a while. Presently he stood +up, for the cold began to nip him, and the people below became aware +that he had swum the river above the fall and raised a shout, for the +deed was great. Now Eric must begin to clamber down Sheep-saddle, and +this was no easy task, for the rock is almost sheer, and slippery with +ice, and on either side the waters rushed and thundered, throwing their +blinding spray about him as they leapt to the depths beneath. He looked +down, studying the rock; then, feeling that he grew afraid, made an end +of doubt and, grasping a point with both hands, swung himself down his +own length and more. Now for many minutes he climbed down Sheep-saddle, +and the task was hard, for he was bewildered with the booming of the +waters that bent out on either side of him like the arc of a bow, and +the rock was very steep and slippery. Still, he came down all those +fifteen fathoms and fell not, though twice he was near to falling, and +the watchers below marvelled greatly at his hardihood. + +“He will be dashed to pieces where the waters meet,” said Ospakar, “he +can never gain Wolf’s Fang crag beneath; and, if so it be that he come +there and leaps to the pool, the weight of water will drive him down +and drown him.” + +“It is certainly so,” quoth Asmund, “and it grieves me much; for it was +my jest that drove him to this perilous adventure, and we cannot spare +such a man as Eric Brighteyes.” + +Now Swanhild turned white as death; but Gudruda said: “If great heart +and strength and skill may avail at all, then Eric shall come safely +down the waters.” + +“Thou fool!” whispered Swanhild in her ear, “how can these help him? No +troll could live in yonder cauldron. Dead is Eric, and thou art the +bait that lured him to his death!” + +“Spare thy words,” she answered; “as the Norns have ordered so it shall +be.” + +Now Eric stood at the foot of Sheep-saddle, and within an arm’s length +the mighty waters met, tossing their yellow waves and seething +furiously as they leapt to the mist-hid gulf beneath. He bent over and +looked through the spray. Three fathoms under him the rock Wolf’s Fang +split the waters, and thence, if he can come thither, he may leap sheer +into the pool below. Now he unwound the rope that was about his middle, +and made one end fast to a knob of rock—and this was difficult, for his +hands were stiff with cold—and the other end he passed through his +leathern girdle. Then Eric looked again, and his heart sank within him. +How might he give himself to this boiling flood and not be shattered? +But as he looked, lo! a rainbow grew upon the face of the water, and +one end of it lit upon him, and the other, like a glory from the Gods, +fell full upon Gudruda as she stood a little way apart, watching at the +foot of Golden Falls. + +“Seest thou that,” said Asmund to Groa, who was at his side, “the Gods +build their Bifrost bridge between these two. Who now shall keep them +asunder?” + +“Read the portent thus,” she answered: “they shall be united, but not +here. Yon is a Spirit bridge, and, see: the waters of Death foam and +fall between them!” + +Eric, too, saw the omen and it seemed good to him, and all fear left +his heart. Round about him the waters thundered, but amidst their roar +he dreamed that he heard a voice calling: + +“Be of good cheer, Eric Brighteyes; for thou shalt live to do mightier +deeds than this, and in guerdon thou shalt win Gudruda.” + +So he paused no longer, but, shortening up the rope, pulled on it with +all his strength, and then leapt out upon the arch of waters. They +struck him and he was dashed out like a stone from a sling; again he +fell against them and again was dashed away, so that his girdle burst. +Eric felt it go and clung wildly to the rope and lo! with the inward +swing, he fell on Wolf’s Fang, where never a man has stood before and +never a man shall stand again. Eric lay a little while on the rock till +his breath came back to him, and he listened to the roar of the waters. +Then, rising on his hands and knees, he crept to its point, for he +could scarcely stand because of the trembling of the stone beneath the +shock of the fall; and when the people below saw that he was not dead, +they raised a great shout, and the sound of their voices came to him +through the noise of the waters. + +Now, twelve fathoms beneath him was the surface of the pool; but he +could not see it because of the wreaths of spray. Nevertheless, he must +leap and that swiftly, for he grew cold. So of a sudden Eric stood up +to his full height, and, with a loud cry and a mighty spring, bounded +out from the point of Wolf’s Fang far into the air, beyond the reach of +the falling flood, and rushed headlong towards the gulf beneath. Now +all men watching held their breath as his body travelled, and so great +is the place and so high the leap that through the mist Eric seemed but +as a big white stone hurled down the face of the arching waters. + +He was gone, and the watchers rushed down to the foot of the pool, for +there, if he rose at all, he must pass to the shallows. Swanhild could +look no more, but sank upon the ground. The face of Gudruda was set +like a stone with doubt and anguish. Ospakar saw and read the meaning, +and he said to himself: “Now Odin grant that this youngling rise not +again! for the maid loves him dearly, and he is too much a man to be +lightly swept aside.” + +Eric struck the pool. Down he sank, and down and down—for the water +falling from so far must almost reach the bottom of the pool before it +can rise again—and he with it. Now he touched the bottom, but very +gently, and slowly began to rise, and, as he rose, was carried along by +the stream. But it was long before he could breathe, and it seemed to +him that his lungs would burst. Still, he struggled up, striking great +strokes with his legs. + +“Farewell to Eric,” said Asmund, “he will rise no more now.” + +But just as he spoke Gudruda pointed to something that gleamed, white +and golden, beneath the surface of the current, and lo! the bright hair +of Eric rose from the water, and he drew a great breath, shaking his +head like a seal, and, though but feebly, struck out for the shallows +that are at the foot of the pool. Now he found footing, but was swept +over by the fierce current, and cut his forehead, and he carried that +scar till his death. Again he rose, and with a rush gained the bank +unaided and fell upon the snow. + +Now people gathered about him in silence and wondering, for none had +known so great a deed. And presently Eric opened his eyes and looked +up, and found the eyes of Gudruda fixed on his, and there was that in +them which made him glad he had dared the path of Golden Falls. + + + + +CHAPTER V +HOW ERIC WON THE SWORD WHITEFIRE + + +Now Asmund the priest bent down, and Eric saw him and spoke: + +“Thou badest me to thy Yule-feast, lord, by yonder slippery road and I +have come. Dost thou welcome me well?” + +“No man better,” quoth Asmund. “Thou art a gallant man, though +foolhardy; and thou hast done a deed that shall be told of while skalds +sing and men live in Iceland.” + +“Make place, my father,” said Gudruda, “for Eric bleeds.” And she +loosed the kerchief from her neck and bound it about his wounded brow, +and, taking the rich cloak from her body, threw it on his shoulders, +and no man said her nay. + +Then they led him to the hall, where Eric clothed himself and rested, +and he sent back the thrall Jon to Coldback, bidding him tell Saevuna, +Eric’s mother, that he was safe. But he was somewhat weak all that day, +and the sound of waters roared in his ears. + +Now Ospakar and Groa were ill pleased at the turn things had taken; but +all the others rejoiced much, for Eric was well loved of men and they +had grieved if the waters had prevailed against his might. But Swanhild +brooded bitterly, for Eric never turned to look on her. + +The hour of the feast drew on and, according to custom, it was held in +the Temple, and thither went all men. When they were seated in the nave +of the Hof, the fat ox that had been made ready for sacrifice was led +in and dragged before the altar on which the holy fire burned. Now +Asmund the Priest slew it, amid silence, before the figures of the +Gods, and, catching its blood in the blood-bowl, sprinkled the altar +and all the worshippers with the blood-twigs. Then the ox was cut up, +and the figures of the almighty Gods were anointed with its molten fat +and wiped with fair linen. Next the flesh was boiled in the cauldrons +that were hung over fires lighted all down the nave, and the feast +began. + +Now men ate, and drank much ale and mead, and all were merry. But +Ospakar Blacktooth grew not glad, though he drank much, for he saw that +the eyes of Gudruda ever watched Eric’s face and that they smiled on +each other. He was wroth at this, for he knew that the bait must be +good and the line strong that should win this fair fish to his angle, +and as he sat, unknowingly his fingers loosed the peace-strings of his +sword Whitefire, and he half drew it, so that its brightness flamed in +the firelight. + +“Thou hast a wondrous blade there, Ospakar!” said Asmund, “though this +is no place to draw it. Whence came it? Methinks no such swords are +fashioned now.” + +“Ay, Asmund, a wondrous blade indeed. There is no other such in the +world, for the dwarfs forged it of old, and he shall be unconquered who +holds it aloft. This was King Odin’s sword, and it is named Whitefire. +Ralph the Red took it from King Eric’s cairn in Norway, and he strove +long with the Barrow-Dweller[*] before he wrenched it from his grasp. +But my father won it and slew Ralph, though he had never done this had +Whitefire been aloft against him. But Ralph the Red, being in drink +when the ships met in battle, fought with an axe, and was slain by my +father, and since then Whitefire has been the last light that many a +chief’s eyes have seen. Look at it, Asmund.” + +[*] The ghost in the cairn. + + +Now he drew the great sword, and men were astonished as it flashed +aloft. Its hilt was of gold, and blue stones were set therein. It +measured two ells and a half from crossbar to point, and so bright was +the broad blade that no one could look on it for long, and all down its +length ran runes. + +“A wondrous weapon, truly!” said Asmund. “How read the runes?” + +“I know not, nor any man—they are ancient.” + +“Let me look at them,” said Groa, “I am skilled in runes.” Now she took +the sword, and heaved it up, and looked at the runes and said, “A +strange writing truly.” + +“How runs it, housekeeper?” said Asmund. + +“Thus, lord, if my skill is not at fault:— + +“Whitefire is my name— +Dwarf-folk forged me— +Odin’s sword was I— +Eric’s sword was I— +Eric’s sword shall I be— +And where I fall there he must follow me.” + + +Now Gudruda looked at Eric Brighteyes wonderingly, and Ospakar saw it +and became very angry. + +“Look not so, maiden,” he said, “for it shall be another Eric than yon +flapper-duck who holds Whitefire aloft, though it may very well chance +that he shall feel its edge.” + +Now Gudruda bit her lip, and Eric burned red to the brow and spoke: + +“It is ill, lord, to throw taunts like an angry woman. Thou art great +and strong, yet I may dare a deed with thee.” + +“Peace, boy! Thou canst climb a waterfall well, I gainsay it not; but +beware ere thou settest up thyself against my strength. Say now, what +game wilt thou play with Ospakar?” + +“I will go on holmgang with thee, byrnie-clad or baresark,[*] and fight +thee with axe or sword, or I will wrestle with thee, and Whitefire +yonder shall be the winner’s prize.” + +[*] To a duel, usually fought, in mail or without it, on an +island—“holm”—within a circle of hazel-twigs. + + +“Nay, I will have no bloodshed here at Middalhof,” said Asmund sternly. +“Make play with fists, or wrestle if ye will, for that were great sport +to see; but weapons shall not be drawn.” + +Now Ospakar grew mad with anger and drink—and he grinned like a dog, +till men saw the red gums beneath his lips. + +“Thou wilt wrestle with me, youngling—with _me_ whom no man has ever so +much as lifted from my feet? Good! I will lay thee on thy face and whip +thee, and Whitefire shall be the stake—I swear it on the holy +altar-ring; but what hast thou to set against the precious sword? Thy +poor hovel and its lot of land shall be all too little.” + +“I set my life on it; if I lose Whitefire let Whitefire slay me,” said +Eric. + +“Nay, that I will not have, and I am master here in this Temple,” said +Asmund. “Bethink thee of some other stake, Ospakar, or let the game be +off.” + +Now Ospakar gnawed his lip with his black fang and thought. Then he +laughed aloud and spoke: + +“Bright is Whitefire and thou art named Brighteyes. See now: I set the +great sword against thy right eye, and, if I win the match, it shall be +mine to tear it out. Wilt thou play this game with me? If thy heart +fails thee, let it go; but I will set no other stake against my good +sword.” + +“Eyes and limbs are a poor man’s wealth,” said Eric: “so be it. I stake +my right eye against the sword Whitefire, and we will try the match +to-morrow.” + +“And to-morrow night thou shalt be called Eric One-eye,” said +Ospakar—at which some few of his thralls laughed. + +But most of the men did not laugh, for they thought this an ill game +and a worse jest. + +Now the feast went on, and Asmund rose from his high seat in the centre +of the nave, on the left hand looking down from the altar, and gave out +the holy toasts. First men drank a full horn to Odin, praying for +triumph on their foes. Then they drank to Frey, asking for plenty; to +Thor, for strength in battle; to Freya, Goddess of Love (and to her +Eric drank heartily); to the memory of the dead; and, last of all, to +Bragi, God of all delight. When this cup was drunk, Asmund rose again, +according to custom, and asked if none had an oath to swear as to some +deed that should be done. + +For a while there was no answer, but presently Eric Brighteyes stood +up. + +“Lord,” he said, “I would swear an oath.” + +“Set forth the matter, then,” said Asmund. + +“It is this,” quoth Eric. “On Mosfell mountain, over by Hecla, dwells a +Baresark of whom all men have ill knowledge, for there are few whom he +has not harmed. His name is Skallagrim; he is a mighty man and he has +wrought much mischief in the south country, and brought many to their +deaths and robbed more of their goods: for none can prevail against +him. Still, I swear this, that, when the days lengthen, I will go up +alone against him and challenge him to battle, and conquer him or +fall.” + +“Then, thou yellow-headed puppy-dog, thou shalt go with one eye against +a Baresark with two,” growled Ospakar. + +Men took no heed of his words, but shouted aloud, for Skallagrim had +plagued them long, and there were none who dared to fight with him any +more. Only Gudruda looked askance, for it seemed to her that Eric swore +too fast. Nevertheless he went up to the altar, and, taking hold of the +holy ring, he set his foot on the holy stone and swore his oath, while +the feasters applauded, striking their cups upon the board. + +And after that the feast went merrily, till all men were drunk, except +Asmund and Eric. + +Now Eric went to rest, but first he rubbed his limbs with the fat of +seals, for he was still sore with the beating of the waters, and they +must needs be supple on the morrow if he would keep his eye. Then he +slept sound, and rose strong and well, and going to the stream behind +the stead, bathed, and anointed his limbs afresh. But Ospakar did not +sleep well, because of the ale that he had drunk. Now as Eric came back +from bathing, in the dark of the morning, he met Gudruda, who watched +for his coming, and, there being none to see, he kissed her often; but +she chided him because of the match that he had made with Ospakar and +the oath that he had sworn. + +“Surely,” she said, “thou wilt lose thine eye, for this Ospakar is a +giant, and strong as a troll; also he is merciless. Still, thou art a +mighty man, and I shall love thee as well with one eye as with two. Oh! +Eric, methought I should have died yesterday when thou didst leap from +Wolf’s Fang! My heart seemed to stop within me.” + +“Yet I came safely to shore, sweetheart, and well does this kiss pay +for all I did. And as for Ospakar, if but once I get these arms about +him, I fear him little, or any man, and I covet that sword of his +greatly. But we can talk more certainly of these things to-morrow.” + +Now Gudruda clung to him and told him all that had befallen, and of the +doings and words of Swanhild. + +“She honours me beyond my worth,” he said, “who am in no way set on +her, but on thee only, Gudruda.” + +“Art thou so sure of that, Eric? Swanhild is fair and wise.” + +“Ay and evil. When I love Swanhild, then thou mayest love Ospakar.” + +“It is a bargain,” she said, laughing. “Good luck go with thee in the +wrestling,” and with a kiss she left him, fearing lest she should be +seen. + +Eric went back to the hall, and sat down by the centre hearth, for all +men slept, being still heavy with drink, and presently Swanhild glided +up to him, and greeted him. + +“Thou art greedy of deeds, Eric,” she said. “Yesterday thou camest here +by a path that no man has travelled, to-day thou dost wrestle with a +giant for thine eye, and presently thou goest up against Skallagrim!” + +“It seems that this is true,” said Eric. + +“Now all this thou doest for a woman who is the betrothed of another +man.” + +“All this I do for fame’s sake, Swanhild. Moreover, Gudruda is +betrothed to none.” + +“Before another Yule-feast is spread, Gudruda shall be the wife of +Ospakar.” + +“That is yet to be seen, Swanhild.” + +Now Swanhild stood silent for a while and then spoke: “Thou art a fool, +Eric—yes, drunk with folly. Nothing but evil shall come to thee from +this madness of thine. Forget it and pluck that which lies to thine +hand,” and she looked sweetly at him. + +“They call thee Swanhild the Fatherless,” he answered, “but I think +that Loki, the God of Guile, was thy father, for there is none to match +thee in craft and evil-doing, and in beauty one only. I know thy plots +well and all the sorrow that thou hast brought upon us. Still, each +seeks honour after his own manner, so seek thou as thou wilt; but thou +shalt find bitterness and empty days, and thy plots shall come back on +thine own head—yes, even though they bring Gudruda and me to sorrow and +death.” + +Swanhild laughed. “A day shall dawn, Eric, when thou who dost hate me +shalt hold me dear, and this I promise thee. Another thing I promise +thee also: that Gudruda shall never call thee husband.” + +But Eric did not answer, fearing lest in his anger he should say words +that were better unspoken. + +Now men rose and sat down to meat, and all talked of the wrestling that +should be. But in the morning Ospakar repented of the match, for it is +truly said that _ale is another man_, and men do not like that in the +morning which seemed well enough on yester eve. He remembered that he +held Whitefire dear above all things, and that Eric’s eye had no worth +to him, except that the loss of it would spoil his beauty, so that +perhaps Gudruda would turn from him. It would be very ill if he should +chance to lose the play—though of this he had no fear, for he was held +the strongest man in Iceland and the most skilled in all feats of +strength—and, at the best, no fame is to be won from the overthrow of a +deedless man, and the plucking out of his eye. Thus it came to pass +that when he saw Eric he called to him in a big voice: + +“Hearken, thou Eric.” + +“I hear thee, thou Ospakar,” said Eric, mocking him, and people +laughed; while Ospakar grinned angrily and said, “Thou must learn +manners, puppy. Still, I shall find no honour in teaching thee in this +wise. Last night we made a match in our cups, and I staked my sword +Whitefire and thou thine eye. It would be bad that either of us should +lose sword or eye; therefore, what sayest thou, shall we let it pass?” + +“Ay, Blacktooth, if thou fearest; but first pay thou forfeit of the +sword.” + +Now Ospakar grew very mad and shouted, “Thou wilt indeed stand against +me in the ring! I will break thy back anon, youngster, and afterwards +tear out thine eye before thou diest.” + +“It may so befall,” answered Eric, “but big words do not make big +deeds.” + +Presently the light came and thralls went out with spades and cleared +away the snow in a circle two rods across, and brought dry sand and +sprinkled it on the frozen turf, so that the wrestlers should not slip. +And they piled the snow in a wall around the ring. + +But Groa came up to Ospakar and spoke to him apart. + +“Knowest thou, lord,” she said, “that my heart bodes ill of this match? +Eric is a mighty man, and, great though thou art, I think that thou +shalt lout low before him.” + +“It will be a bad business if I am overthrown by an untried man,” said +Ospakar, and was troubled in his mind, “and it would be evil moreover +to lose the sword. For no price would I have it so.” + +“What wilt thou give me, lord, if I bring thee victory?” + +“I will give thee two hundred in silver.” + +“Ask no questions and it shall be so,” said Groa. + +Now Eric was without, taking note of the ground in the ring, and +presently Groa called to her the thrall Koll the Half-witted, whom she +had sent to Swinefell. + +“See,” she said, “yonder by the wall stand the wrestling shoes of Eric +Brighteyes. Haste thee now and take grease, and rub the soles with it, +then hold them in the heat of the fire, so that the fat sinks in. Do +this swiftly and secretly, and I will give thee three pennies.” + +Koll grinned, and did as he was bid, setting back the shoes just as +they were before. Scarcely was the deed done when Eric came in, and +made himself ready for the game, binding the greased shoes upon his +feet, for he feared no trick. + +Now everybody went out to the ring, and Ospakar and Eric stripped for +wrestling. They were clad in tight woollen jerkins and hose, and +sheep-skin shoes were on their feet. + +They named Asmund master of the game, and his word must be law to both +of them. Eric claimed that Asmund should hold the sword Whitefire that +was at stake, but Ospakar gainsaid him, saying that if he gave +Whitefire into Asmund’s keeping, Eric must also give his eye—and about +this they debated hotly. Now the matter was brought before Asmund as +umpire, and he gave judgment for Eric, “for,” he said, “if Eric yield +up his eye into my hand, I can return it to his head no more if he +should win; but if Ospakar gives me the good sword and conquers, it is +easy for me to pass it back to him unharmed.” + +Men said that this was a good judgment. + +Thus then was the arm-game set. Ospakar and Eric must wrestle thrice, +and between each bout there would be a space while men could count a +thousand. They might strike no blow at one another with hand, or head, +or elbow, foot or knee; and it should be counted no fall if the haunch +and the head of the fallen were not on the ground at the self-same +time. He who suffered two falls should be adjudged conquered and lose +his stake. + +Asmund called these rules aloud in the presence of witnesses, and +Ospakar and Eric said that should bind them. Ospakar drew a small knife +and gave it to his son Gizur to hold. + +“Thou shalt soon know, youngling, how steel tastes in the eyeball,” he +said. + +“We shall soon know many things,” Eric answered. + +Now they drew off their cloaks and stood in the ring. Ospakar was great +beyond the bigness of men and his arms were clothed with black hair +like the limbs of a goat. Beneath the shoulder joint they were almost +as thick as a girl’s thigh. His legs also were mighty, and the muscles +stood out upon him in knotty lumps. He seemed a very giant, and fierce +as a Baresark, but still somewhat round about the body and heavy in +movement. + +From him men looked at Eric. + +“Lo! Baldur and the Troll!” said Swanhild, and everybody laughed, since +so it was indeed; for, if Ospakar was black and hideous as a troll, +Eric was beautiful as Baldur, the loveliest of the Gods. He was taller +than Ospakar by the half of a hand and as broad in the chest. Still, he +was not yet come to his greatest strength, and, though his limbs were +well knit, they seemed but as a child’s against the limbs of Ospakar. +But he was quick as a cat and lithe, his neck and arms were white as +whey, and beneath his golden hair his bright eyes shone like spears. + +Now they stood face to face, with arms outstretched, waiting the word +of Asmund. He gave it and they circled round each other with arms held +low. Presently Ospakar made a rush and, seizing Eric about the middle, +tried to lift him, but with no avail. Thrice he strove and failed, then +Eric moved his foot and lo! it slipped upon the sanded turf. Again Eric +moved and again he slipped, a third time and he slipped a third time, +and before he could recover himself he was full on his back and fairly +thrown. + +Gudruda saw and was sad at heart, and those around her said that it was +easy to know how the game would end. + +“What said I?” quoth Swanhild, “that it would go badly with Eric were +Ospakar’s arms about him.” + +“All is not done yet,” answered Gudruda. “Methinks Eric’s feet slipped +most strangely, as though he stood on ice.” + +But Eric was very sore at heart and could make nothing of this +matter—for he was not overthrown by strength. + +He sat on the snow and Ospakar and his sons mocked him. But Gudruda +drew near and whispered to him to be of good cheer, for fortune might +yet change. + +“I think that I am bewitched,” said Eric sadly: “my feet have no hold +of the ground.” + +Gudruda covered her eyes with her hand and thought. Presently she +looked up quickly. “I seem to see guile here,” she said. “Now look +narrowly on thy shoes.” + +He heard, and, loosening his shoe-string, drew a shoe from his foot and +looked at the sole. The cold of the snow had hardened the fat, and +there it was, all white upon the leather. + +Now Eric rose in wrath. “Methought,” he cried, “that I dealt with men +of honourable mind, not with cheating tricksters. See now! it is little +wonder that I slipped, for grease has been set upon my shoes—and, by +Thor! I will cleave the man who did it to the chin,” and as he said it +his eyes blazed so dreadfully that folk fell back from him. Asmund took +the shoes and looked at them. Then he spoke: + +“Brighteyes tells the truth, and we have a sorry knave among us. +Ospakar, canst thou clear thyself of this ill deed?” + +“I will swear on the holy ring that I know nothing of it, and if any +man in my company has had a hand therein he shall die,” said Ospakar. + +“That we will swear also,” cried his sons Gizur and Mord. + +“This is more like a woman’s work,” said Gudruda, and she looked at +Swanhild. + +“It is no work of mine,” quoth Swanhild. + +“Then go and ask thy mother of it,” answered Gudruda. + +Now all men cried aloud that this was the greatest shame, and that the +match must be set afresh; only Ospakar bethought him of that two +hundred in silver which he had promised to Groa, and looked around, but +she was not there. Still, he gainsaid Eric in the matter of the match +being set afresh. + +Then Eric cried out in his anger that he would let the game stand as it +was, since Ospakar swore himself free of the shameful deed. Men thought +this a mad saying, but Asmund said it should be so. Still, he swore in +his heart that, even if he were worsted, Eric should not lose his +eye—no not if swords were held aloft to take it. For of all tricks this +seemed to him the very worst. + +Now Ospakar and Eric faced each other again in the ring, but this time +the feet of Eric were bare. + +Ospakar rushed to get the upper hold, but Eric was too swift for him +and sprang aside. Again he rushed, but Eric dropped and gripped him +round the middle. Now they were face to face, hugging each other like +bears, but moving little. For a time things went thus, while Ospakar +strove to lift Eric, but in nowise could he stir him. Then of a sudden +Eric put out his strength, and they staggered round the ring, tearing +at each other till their jerkins were rent from them, leaving them +almost bare to the waist. Suddenly, Eric seemed to give, and Ospakar +put out his foot to trip him. But Brighteyes was watching. He caught +the foot in the crook of his left leg, and threw his weight forward on +the chest of Blacktooth. Backward he went, falling with the thud of a +tree on snow, and there he lay on the ground, and Eric over him. + +Then men shouted “A fall! a fair fall!” and were very glad, for the +fight seemed most uneven to them, and the wrestlers rolled asunder, +breathing heavily. + +Gudruda threw a cloak over Eric’s naked shoulders. + +“That was well done, Brighteyes,” she said. + +“The game is still to play, sweet,” he gasped, “and Ospakar is a mighty +man. I threw him by skill, not by strength. Next time it must be by +strength or not at all.” + +Now breathing-time was done, and once more the two were face to face. +Thrice Ospakar rushed, and thrice did Eric slip away, for he would +waste Blacktooth’s strength. Again Ospakar rushed, roaring like a bear, +and fire seemed to come from his eyes, and the steam went up from him +and hung upon the frosty air like the steam of a horse. This time Eric +could not get away, but was swept up into that great grip, for Ospakar +had the lower hold. + +“Now there is an end of Eric,” said Swanhild. + +“The arrow is yet on the bow,” answered Gudruda. + +Blacktooth put out his might and reeled round and round the ring, +dragging Eric with him. This way and that he twisted, and time on time +Eric’s leg was lifted from the ground, but so he might not be thrown. +Now they stood almost still, while men shouted madly, for no such +wrestling had been known in the southlands. Grimly they hugged and +strove: forsooth it was a mighty sight to see. Grimly they hugged, and +their muscles strained and cracked, but they could stir each other no +inch. + +Ospakar grew fearful, for he could make no play with this youngling. +Black rage swelled in his heart. He ground his fangs, and thought on +guile. By his foot gleamed the naked foot of Eric. Suddenly he stamped +on it so fiercely that the skin burst. + +“Ill done! ill done!” folk cried; but in his pain Eric moved his foot. + +Lo! he was down, but not altogether down, for he did but sit upon his +haunches, and still he clung to Blacktooth’s thighs, and twined his +legs about his ankles. Now with all his strength Ospakar strove to +force the head of Brighteyes to the ground, but still he could not, for +Eric clung to him like a creeper to a tree. + +“A losing game for Eric,” said Asmund, and as he spoke Brighteyes was +pressed back till his yellow hair almost swept the sand. + +Then the folk of Ospakar shouted in triumph, but Gudruda cried aloud: + +“Be not overthrown, Eric; loose thee and spring aside.” + +Eric heard, and of a sudden loosed all his grip. He fell on his +outspread hand, then, with a swing sideways and a bound, once more he +stood upon his feet. Ospakar came at him like a bull made mad with +goading, but he could no longer roar aloud. They closed and this time +Eric had the better hold. For a while they struggled round and round +till their feet tore the frozen turf, then once more they stood face to +face. Now the two were almost spent; yet Blacktooth gathered up his +strength and swung Eric from his feet, but he found them again. He grew +mad with rage, and hugged him till Brighteyes was nearly pressed to +death, and black bruises sprang upon the whiteness of his flesh. +Ospakar grew mad, and madder yet, till at length in his fury he fixed +his fangs in Eric’s shoulder and bit till the blood spurted. + +“Ill kissed, thou rat!” gasped Eric, and with the pain and rush of +blood, his strength came back to him. He shifted his grip swiftly, now +his right hand was beneath the fork of Blacktooth’s thigh and his left +on the hollow of Blacktooth’s back. Twice he lifted—twice the bulk of +Ospakar rose from the ground—a third mighty lift—so mighty that the +wrapping on Eric’s forehead burst, and the blood streamed down his +face—and lo! great Blacktooth flew in air. Up he flew, and backward he +fell into the bank of snow, and was buried there almost to the knees. + + + + +CHAPTER VI +HOW ASMUND THE PRIEST WAS BETROTHED TO UNNA + + +For a moment there was silence, for all that company was wonderstruck +at the greatness of the deed. Then they cheered and cheered again, and +to Eric it seemed that he slept, and the sound of shouting reached him +but faintly, as though he heard through snow. Suddenly he woke and saw +a man rush at him with axe aloft. It was Mord, Ospakar’s son, mad at +his father’s overthrow. Eric sprang aside, or the blow had been his +bane, and, as he sprang, smote with his fist, and it struck heavily on +the head of Mord above the ear, so that the axe flew from his hand, and +he fell senseless on his father in the snow. + +Now swords flashed out, and men ringed round Eric to guard him, and it +came near to the spilling of blood, for the people of Ospakar gnashed +their teeth to see so great a hero overthrown by a youngling, while the +southern folk of Middalhof and Ran River rejoiced loudly, for Eric was +dear to their hearts. + +“Down swords,” cried Asmund the priest, “and haul yon carcass from the +snow.” + +This then they did, and Ospakar sat up, breathing in great gasps, the +blood running from his mouth and ears, and he was an evil sight to see, +for what with blood and snow and rage his face was like the face of the +Swinefell Goblin. + +But Swanhild spoke in the ear of Gudruda: + +“Here,” she said, looking at Eric, “we two have a man worth loving, +foster-sister.” + +“Ay,” answered Gudruda, “worth and well worth!” + +Now Asmund drew near and before all men kissed Eric Brighteyes on the +brow. + +“In sooth,” he said, “thou art a mighty man, Eric, and the glory of the +south. This I prophesy of thee: that thou shalt do deeds such as have +not been done in Iceland. Thou hast ill been served, for a knave +unknown greased thy shoes. Yon swarthy Ospakar, the most mighty of all +men in Iceland, could not overthrow thee, though, like a wolf, he +fastened his fangs in thee, and, like a coward, stamped upon thy naked +foot. Take thou the great sword that thou hast won and wear it +worthily.” + +Now Eric took snow and wiped the blood from his brow. Then he grasped +Whitefire and drew it from the scabbard, and high aloft flashed the +war-blade. Thrice he wheeled it round his head, then sang aloud: + +“Fast, yestermorn, down Golden Falls, +Fared young Eric to thy feast, +Asmund, father of Gudruda— +Maid whom much he longs to clasp. +But to-day on Giant Blacktooth +Hath he done a needful deed: +Hurling him in heaped-up snowdrift; +Winning Whitefire for his wage.” + + +And again he sang: + +“Lord, if in very truth thou thinkest +Brighteyes is a man midst men, +Swear to him, the stalwart suitor, +Handsel of thy sweet maid’s hand: +Whom, long loved, to win, down Goldfoss +Swift he sped through frost and foam; +Whom, to win, to troll-like Ogre, +He, ‘gainst Whitefire, waged his eye.” + + +Men thought this well sung, and turned to hear Asmund’s answer, nor +must they wait long. + +“Eric,” he said, “I will promise thee this, that if thou goest on as +thou hast begun, I will give Gudruda in marriage to no other man.” + +“That is good tidings, lord,” said Eric. + +“This I say further: in a year I will give thee full answer according +as to how thou dost bear thyself between now and then, for this is no +light gift thou askest; also that, if ye will it, you twain may now +plight troth, for the blame shall be yours if it is broken, and not +mine, and I give thee my hand on it.” + +Eric took his hand, and Gudruda heard her father’s words and happiness +shone in her dark eyes, and she grew faint for very joy. And now Eric +turned to her, all torn and bloody from the fray, the great sword in +his hand, and he spoke thus: + +“Thou hast heard thy father’s words, Gudruda? Now it seems that there +is no great need of troth-plighting between us two. Still, here before +all men I ask thee, if thou dost love me and art willing to take me to +husband?” + +Gudruda looked up into his face, and answered in a sweet, clear voice +that could be heard by all: + +“Eric, I say to thee now, what I have said before, that I love thee +alone of all men, and, if it be my father’s wish, I will wed no other +whilst thou dost remain true to me and hold me dear.” + +“Those are good words,” said Eric. “Now, in pledge of them, swear this +troth of thine upon my sword that I have won.” + +Gudruda smiled, and, taking great Whitefire in her hand, she said the +words again, and, in pledge of them, kissed the bright blade. + +Then Eric took back the war-sword and spoke thus: “I swear that I will +love thee, and thee only, Gudruda the Fair, Asmund’s daughter, whom I +have desired all my days; and, if I fail of this my oath, then our +troth is at an end, and thou mayst wed whom thou wilt,” and in turn he +put his lips upon the sword, while Swanhild watched them do the oath. + +Now Ospakar was recovered from the fight, and he sat there upon the +snow, with bowed head, for he knew well that he had won the greatest +shame, and had lost both wife and sword. Black rage filled his heart as +he listened, and he sprang to his feet. + +“I came hither, Asmund,” he said, “to ask this maid of thine in +marriage, and methinks that had been a good match for her and thee. But +I have been overthrown by witchcraft of this man in a wrestling-bout, +and thereby lost my good sword; and now I must seem to hear him +betrothed to the maid before me.” + +“Thou hast heard aright, Ospakar,” said Asmund, “and thy wooing is soon +sped. Get thee back whence thou camest and seek a wife in thine own +quarter, for thou art unfit in age and aspect to have so sweet a maid. +Moreover, here in the south we hold men of small account, however great +and rich they be, who do not shame to seek to overcome a foe by foul +means. With my own eyes I saw thee stamp on the naked foot of Eric, +Thorgrimur’s son; with my own eyes I saw thee, like a wolf, fasten that +black fang of thine upon him—there is the mark of it; and, as for the +matter of the greased shoes, thou knowest best what hand thou hadst in +it.” + +“I had no hand. If any did this thing, it was Groa the Witch, thy +Finnish bedmate. For the rest, I was mad and know not what I did. But +hearken, Asmund: ill shall befall thee and thy house, and I will ever +be thy foe. Moreover, I will yet wed this maid of thine. And now, thou +Eric, hearken also: I will have another game with thee. This one was +but the sport of boys; when we meet again—and the time shall not be +long—swords shall be aloft, and thou shalt learn the play of men. I +tell thee that I will slay thee, and tear Gudruda, shrieking, from thy +arms to be my wife! I tell thee that, with yonder good sword Whitefire, +I will yet hew off thy head!”—and he choked and stopped. + +“Thou art much foam and little water,” said Eric. “These things are +easily put to proof. If thou willest it, to-morrow I will come with +thee to a holmgang, and there we may set the twigs and finish what we +have begun to-day.” + +“I cannot do that, for thou hast my sword; and, till I am suited with +another weapon, I may fight no holmgang. Still, fear not: we shall soon +meet with weapons aloft and byrnie on breast.” + +“Never too soon can the hour come, Blacktooth,” said Eric, and turning +on his heel, he limped to the hall to clothe himself afresh. On the +threshold of the men’s door he met Groa the Witch. + +“Thou didst put grease upon my shoes, carline and witch-hag that thou +art,” he said. + +“It is not true, Brighteyes.” + +“There thou liest, and for all this I will repay thee. Thou art not yet +the wife of Asmund, nor shalt be, for a plan comes into my head about +it.” + +Groa looked at him strangely. “If thou speakest so, take heed to thy +meat and drink,” she said. “I was not born among the Finns for nothing; +and know, I am still minded to wed Asmund. For thy shoes, I would to +the Gods that they were Hell-shoon, and that I was now binding them on +thy dead feet.” + +“Oh! the cat begins to spit,” said Eric. “But know this: thou mayest +grease my shoes—fit work for a carline!—but thou mayest never bind them +on. Thou art a witch, and wilt come to the end of witches; and what thy +daughter is, that I will not say,” and he pushed past her and entered +the hall. + +Presently Asmund came to seek Eric there, and prayed him to be gone to +his stead on Ran River. The horses of Ospakar had strayed, and he must +stop at Middalhof till they were found; but, if these two should abide +under the same roof, bloodshed would come of it, and that Asmund knew. + +Eric said yea to this, and, when he had rested a while, he kissed +Gudruda, and, taking a horse, rode away to Coldback, bearing the sword +Whitefire with him, and for a time he saw no more of Ospakar. + +When he came there, his mother Saevuna greeted him as one risen from +the dead, and hung about his neck. Then he told her all that had come +to pass, and she thought it a marvellous story, and sorrowed that +Thorgrimur, her husband, was not alive to know it. But Eric mused a +while, and spoke. + +“Mother,” he said, “now my uncle Thorod of Greenfell is dead, and his +daughter, my cousin Unna, has no home. She is a fair woman and skilled +in all things. It comes into my mind that we should bid her here to +dwell with us.” + +“Why, I thought thou wast betrothed to Gudruda the Fair,” said Saevuna. +“Wherefore, then, wouldst thou bring Unna hither?” + +“For this cause,” said Eric; “because it seems that Asmund the Priest +wearies of Groa the Witch, and would take another wife, and I wish to +draw the bands between us tighter, if it may befall so.” + +“Groa will take it ill,” said Saevuna. + +“Things cannot be worse between us than they are now, therefore I do +not fear Groa,” he answered. + +“It shall be as thou wilt, son; to-morrow we will send to Unna and bid +her here, if it pleases her to come.” + +Now Ospakar stayed three more days at Middalhof, till his horses were +found, and he was fit to travel, for Eric had shaken him sorely. But he +had no words with Gudruda and few with Asmund. Still, he saw Swanhild, +and she bid him to be of good cheer, for he should yet have Gudruda. +For now that the maid had passed from him the mind of Ospakar was set +in winning her. Björn also, Asmund’s son, spoke words of good comfort +to him, for he envied Eric his great fame, and he thought the match +with Blacktooth would be good. And so at length Ospakar rode away to +Swinefell with all his company; but Gizur, his son, left his heart +behind. + +For Swanhild had not been idle this while. Her heart was sore, but she +must follow her ill-nature, and so she had put out her woman’s strength +and beguiled Gizur into loving her. But she did not love him at all, +and the temper of Asmund the Priest was so angry that Gizur dared not +ask her in marriage. So nothing was said of the matter. + +Now Unna came to Coldback, to dwell with Saevuna, Eric’s mother, and +she was a fair and buxom woman. She had been once wedded, but within a +month of her marriage her husband was lost at sea, this two years gone. +At first Gudruda was somewhat jealous of this coming of Unna to +Coldback; but Eric showed her what was in his mind, and she fell into +the plan, for she hated and feared Groa greatly, and desired to be rid +of her. + +Since this matter of the greasing of Eric’s wrestling-shoes great +loathing of Groa had come into Asmund’s mind, and he bethought him +often of those words that his wife Gudruda the Gentle spoke as she lay +dying, and grieved that the oath which he swore then had in part been +broken. He would have no more to do with Groa now, but he could not be +rid of her; and, notwithstanding her evil doings, he still loved +Swanhild. But Groa grew thin with spite and rage, and wandered about +the place glaring with her great black eyes, and people hated her more +and more. + +Now Asmund went to visit at Coldback, and there he saw Unna, and was +pleased with her, for she was a blithe woman and a bonny. The end of it +was that he asked her in marriage of Eric; at which Brighteyes was +glad, but said that he must know Unna’s mind. Unna hearkened, and did +not say no, for though Asmund was somewhat gone in years, still he was +an upstanding man, wealthy in lands, goods, and moneys out at interest, +and having many friends. So they plighted troth, and the wedding-feast +was to be in the autumn after hay-harvest. Now Asmund rode back to +Middalhof somewhat troubled at heart, for these tidings must be told to +Groa, and he feared her and her witchcraft. In the hall he found her, +standing alone. + +“Where hast thou been, lord?” she asked. + +“At Coldback,” he answered. + +“To see Unna, Eric’s cousin, perchance?” + +“That is so.” + +“What is Unna to thee, then, lord?” + +“This much, that after hay-harvest she will be my wife, and that is ill +news for thee, Groa.” + +Now Groa turned and grasped fiercely at the air with her thin hands. +Her eyes started out, foam was on her lips, and she shook in her fury +like a birch-tree in the wind, looking so evil that Asmund drew back a +little way, saying: + +“Now a veil is lifted from thee and I see thee as thou art. Thou hast +cast a glamour over me these many years, Groa, and it is gone.” + +“Mayhap, Asmund Asmundson—mayhap, thou knowest me; but I tell thee that +thou shalt see me in a worse guise before thou weddest Unna. What! have +I borne the greatest shame, lying by thy side these many years, and +shall I live to see a rival, young and fair, creep into my place with +honour? That I will not while runes have power and spells can conjure +the evil thing upon thee. I call down ruin on thee and thine—yea and on +Brighteyes also, for he has brought this thing to pass. Death take ye +all! May thy blood no longer run in mortal veins anywhere on the earth! +Go down to Hela, Asmund, and be forgotten!” and she began to mutter +runes swiftly. + +Now Asmund turned white with wrath. “Cease thy evil talk,” he said, “or +thou shalt be hurled as a witch into Goldfoss pool.” + +“Into Goldfoss pool?—yea, there I may lie. I see it!—I seem to see this +shape of mine rolling where the waters boil fiercest—but thine eyes +shall never see it! _Thy_ eyes are shut, and shut are the eyes of Unna, +for ye have gone before!—I do but follow after,” and thrice Groa +shrieked aloud, throwing up her arms, then fell foaming on the sanded +floor. + +“An evil woman and a fey!” said Asmund as he called people to her. “It +had been better for me if I had never seen her dark face.” + +Now it is to be told that Groa lay beside herself for ten full days, +and Swanhild nursed her. Then she found her sense again, and craved to +see Asmund, and spoke thus to him: + +“It seems to me, lord, if indeed it be aught but a vision of my dreams, +that before this sickness struck me I spoke mad and angry words against +thee, because thou hast plighted troth to Unna, Thorod’s daughter.” + +“That is so, in truth,” said Asmund. + +“I have to say this, then, lord: that most humbly I crave thy pardon +for my ill words, and ask thee to put them away from thy mind. Sore +heart makes sour speech, and thou knowest well that, howsoever great my +faults, at least I have always loved thee and laboured for thee, and +methinks that in some fashion thy fortunes are the debtor to my wisdom. +Therefore when my ears heard that thou hadst of a truth put me away, +and that another woman comes an honoured wife to rule in Middalhof, my +tongue forgot its courtesy, and I spoke words that are of all words the +farthest from my mind. For I know well that I grow old, and have put +off that beauty with which I was adorned of yore, and that held thee to +me. ‘_Carline_’ Eric Brighteyes named me, and ‘carline’ I am—an old +hag, no more! Now, forgive me, and, in memory of all that has been +between us, let me creep to my place in the ingle and still watch and +serve thee and thine till my service is outworn. Out of Ran’s net I +came to thee, and, if thou drivest me hence, I tell thee that I will +lie down and die upon thy threshold, and when thou sinkest into eld +surely the memory of it shall grieve thee.” + +Thus she spoke and wept much, till Asmund’s heart softened in him, and, +though with a doubting mind, he said it should be as she willed. + +So Groa stayed on at Middalhof, and was lowly in her bearing and soft +of speech. + + + + +CHAPTER VII +HOW ERIC WENT UP MOSFELL AGAINST SKALLAGRIM THE BARESARK + + +Now Atli the Good, earl of the Orkneys, comes into the story. + +It chanced that Atli had sailed to Iceland in the autumn on a business +about certain lands that had fallen to him in right of his mother +Helga, who was an Icelander, and he had wintered west of Reyjanes. +Spring being come, he wished to sail home, and, when his ship was +bound, he put to sea full early in the year. But it chanced that bad +weather came up from the south-east, with mist and rain, so he must +needs beach his ship in a creek under shelter of the Westman Islands. + +Now Atli asked what people dwelt in these parts, and, when he heard the +name of Asmund Asmundson the Priest, he was glad, for in old days he +and Asmund had gone many a viking cruise together. + +“We will leave the ship here,” he said, “till the weather clears, and +go up to Middalhof to stay with Asmund.” + +So they made the ship snug, and left men to watch her; but two of the +company, with Earl Atli, rode up to Middalhof. + +It must be told of Atli that he was the best of the earls who lived in +those days, and he ruled the Orkneys so well that men gave him a +by-name and called him Atli the Good. It was said of him that he had +never turned a poor man away unsuccoured, nor bowed his head before a +strong man, nor drawn his sword without cause, nor refused peace to him +who prayed it. He was sixty years old, but age had left few marks on +him, except that of his long white beard. He was keen-eyed, and +well-fashioned of form and face, a great warrior and the strongest of +men. His wife was dead, leaving him no children, and this was a sorrow +to him; but as yet he had taken no other wife, for he would say: “Love +makes an old man blind,” and “When age runs with youth, both shall +fall,” and again, “Mix grey locks and golden and spoil two heads.” For +this earl was a man of many wise sayings. + +Now Atli came to Middalhof just as men sat down to meat and, hearing +the clatter of arms, all sprang to their feet, thinking that perhaps +Ospakar had come again as he had promised. But when Asmund saw Atli he +knew him at once, though they had not met for nearly thirty years, and +he greeted him lovingly, and put him in the high seat, and gave place +to his men upon the cross-benches. Atli told all his story, and Asmund +bade him rest a while at Middalhof till the weather grew clearer. + +Now the Earl saw Swanhild and thought the maid wondrous fair, and so +indeed she was, as she moved scornfully to and fro in her kirtle of +white. Soft was her curling hair and deep were her dark blue eyes, and +bent were her red lips as is a bow above her dimpled chin, and her +teeth shone like pearls. + +“Is that fair maid thy daughter, Asmund,” asked Atli. + +“She is named Swanhild the Fatherless,” he answered, turning his face +away. + +“Well,” said Atli, looking sharply on him, “were the maid sprung from +me, she would not long be called the ‘Fatherless,’ for few have such a +daughter.” + +“She is fair enough,” said Asmund, “in all save temper, and that is bad +to cross.” + +“In every sword a flaw,” answers Atli; “but what has an old man to do +with young maids and their beauty?” and he sighed. + +“I have known younger men who would seem less brisk at bridals,” said +Asmund, and for that time they talked no more of the matter. + +Now, Swanhild heard something of this speech, and she guessed more; and +it came into her mind that it would be the best of sport to make this +old man love her, and then to mock him and say him nay. So she set +herself to the task, as it ever was her wont, and she found it easy. +For all day long, with downcast eyes and gentle looks, she waited upon +the Earl, and now, at his bidding, she sang to him in a voice soft and +low, and now she talked so wisely well that Atli thought no such maid +had trod the earth before. But he checked himself with many learned +saws, and on a day when the weather had grown fair, and they sat alone, +he told her that his ship was bound for Orkney Isles. + +Then, as though by chance, Swanhild laid her white hand in his, and on +a sudden looked deep into his eyes, and said with trembling lips, “Ah, +go not yet, lord!—I pray thee, go not yet!”—and, turning, she fled +away. + +But Atli was much moved, and he said to himself: “Now a strange thing +is come to pass: a fair maid loves an old man; and yet, methinks, he +who looks into those eyes sees deep waters,” and he beat his brow and +thought. + +But Swanhild in her chamber laughed till the tears ran from those same +eyes, for she saw that the great fish was hooked and now the time had +come to play him. + +For she did not know that it was otherwise fated. + +Gudruda, too, saw all these things and knew not how to read them, for +she was of an honest mind, and could not understand how a woman may +love a man as Swanhild loved Eric and yet make such play with other +men, and that of her free will. For she guessed little of Swanhild’s +guilefulness, nor of the coldness of her heart to all save Eric; nor of +how this was the only joy left to her: to make a sport of men and put +them to grief and shame. Atli said to himself that he would watch this +maid well before he uttered a word to Asmund, and he deemed himself +very cunning, for he was wondrous cautious after the fashion of those +about to fall. So he set himself to watching, and Swanhild set herself +to smiling, and he told her tales of warfare and of daring, and she +clasped her hands and said: + +“Was there ever such a man since Odin trod the earth?” And so it went +on, till the serving-women laughed at the old man in love and the wit +of her that mocked him. + +Now upon a day, Eric having made an end of sowing his corn, bethought +himself of his vow to go up alone against Skallagrim the Baresark in +his den on Mosfell over by Hecla. Now, this was a heavy task: for +Skallagrim was held so mighty among men that none went up against him +any more; and at times Eric thought of Gudruda, and sighed, for it was +likely that she would be a widow before she was made a wife. Still, his +oath must be fulfilled, and, moreover, of late Skallagrim having heard +that a youngling named Eric Brighteyes had vowed to slay him +single-handed, had made a mock of him in this fashion. For Skallagrim +rode down to Coldback on Ran River and at night-time took a lamb from +the fold. Holding the lamb beneath his arm, he drew near to the house +and smote thrice on the door with his battle-axe, and they were +thundering knocks. Then he leapt on to his horse and rode off a space +and waited. Presently Eric came out, but half clad, a shield in one +hand and Whitefire in the other, and, looking, by the bright moonlight +he saw a huge black-bearded man seated on a horse, having a great axe +in one hand and the lamb beneath his arm. + +“Who art thou?” roared Eric. + +“I am called Skallagrim, youngling,” answered the man on the horse. +“Many men have seen me once, none have wished to see me twice, and some +few have never seen aught again. Now, it has been echoed in my ears +that thou hast vowed a vow to go up Mosfell against Skallagrim the +Baresark, and I am come hither to say that I will make thee right +welcome. See,” and with his axe he cut off the lamb’s tail on the +pommel of his saddle: “of the flesh of this lamb of thine I will brew +broth and of his skin I will make me a vest. Take thou this tail, and +when thou fittest it on to the skin again, Skallagrim will own a lord,” +and he hurled the tail towards him. + +“Bide thou there till I can come to thee,” shouted Eric; “it will spare +me a ride to Mosfell.” + +“Nay, nay. It is good for lads to take the mountain air,” and +Skallagrim turned his horse away, laughing. + +Eric watched Skallagrim vanish over the knoll, and then, though he was +very angry, laughed also and went in. But first he picked up the tail, +and on the morrow he skinned it. + +Now the time was come when the matter must be tried, and Eric bade +farewell to Saevuna his mother, and Unna his cousin, and girt Whitefire +round him and set upon his head a golden helm with wings on it. Then he +found the byrnie which his father Thorgrimur had stripped, together +with the helm, from that Baresark who cut off his leg—and this was a +good piece, forged of the Welshmen—and he put it on his breast, and +taking a stout shield of bull’s hide studded with nails, rode away with +one thrall, the strong carle named Jon. + +But the women misdoubted them much of this venture; nevertheless Eric +might not be gainsayed. + +Now, the road to Mosfell runs past Middalhof and thither he came. Atli, +standing at the men’s door, saw him and cried aloud: “Ho! a mighty man +comes here.” + +Swanhild looked out and saw Eric, and he was a goodly sight in his +war-gear. For now, week by week, he seemed to grow more fair and great, +as the full strength of his manhood rose in him, like sap in the spring +grass, and Gudruda was very proud of her lover. That night Eric stayed +at Middalhof, and sat hand in hand with Gudruda and talked with Earl +Atli. Now the heart of the old viking went out to Eric, and he took +great delight in him and in his strength and deeds, and he longed much +that the Gods had given him such a son. + +“I prophesy this of thee, Brighteyes,” he cried: “that it shall go ill +with this Baresark thou seekest—yes, and with all men who come within +sweep of that great sword of thine. But remember this, lad: guard thy +head with thy buckler, cut low beneath his shield, if he carries one, +and mow the legs from him: for ever a Baresark rushes on, shield up.” + +Eric thanked him for his good words and went to rest. But, before it +was light, he rose, and Gudruda rose also and came into the hall, and +buckled his harness on him with her own hands. + +“This is a sad task for me, Eric!” she sighed, “for how do I know that +Baresark’s hands shall not loose this helm of thine?” + +“That is as it may be, sweet,” he said; “but I fear not the Baresark or +any man. How goes it with Swanhild now?” + +“I know not. She makes herself sweet to that old Earl and he is fain of +her, and that is beyond my sight.” + +“I have seen as much,” said Eric. “It will be well for us if he should +wed her.” + +“Ay, and ill for him; but it is to be doubted if that is in her mind.” + +Now Eric kissed her soft and sweet, and went away, bidding her look for +his return on the day after the morrow. + +Gudruda bore up bravely against her fears till he was gone, but then +she wept a little. + +Now it is to be told that Eric and his thrall Jon rode hard up +Stonefell and across the mountains and over the black sand, till, two +hours before sunset, they came to the foot of Mosfell, having Hecla on +their right. It is a grim mountain, grey with moss, standing alone in +the desert plain; but between it and Hecla there is good grassland. + +“Here is the fox’s earth. Now to start him,” said Eric. + +He knows something of the path by which this fortress can be climbed +from the south, and horses may be ridden up it for a space. So on they +go, till at length they come to a flat place where water runs down the +black rocks, and here Eric drank of the water, ate food, and washed his +face and hands. This done, he bid Jon tend the horses—for hereabouts +there is a little grass—and be watchful till he returned, since he must +go up against Skallagrim alone. And there with a doubtful heart Jon +stayed all that night. For of all that came to pass he saw but one +thing, and that was the light of Whitefire as it flashed out high above +him on the brow of the mountain when first Brighteyes smote at foe. + +Eric went warily up the Baresark path, for he would keep his breath in +him, and the light shone redly on his golden helm. High he went, till +at length he came to a pass narrow and dark and hedged on either side +with sheer cliffs, such as two armed men might hold against a score. He +peered down this path, but he saw no Baresark, though it was worn by +Baresark feet. He crept along its length, moving like a sunbeam through +the darkness of the pass, for the light gathered on his helm and sword, +till suddenly the path turned and he was on the brink of a gulf that +seemed to have no bottom, and, looking across and down, he could see +Jon and the horses more than a hundred fathoms beneath. Now Eric must +stop, for this path leads but into the black gulf. Also he was +perplexed to know where Skallagrim had his lair. He crept to the brink +and gazed. Then he saw that a point of rock jutted from the sheer face +of the cliff and that the point was worn with the mark of feet. + +“Where Baresark passes, there may yeoman follow,” said Eric and, +sheathing Whitefire, without more ado, though he liked the task little, +he grasped the overhanging rock and stepped down on to the point below. +Now he was perched like an eagle over the dizzy gulf and his brain +swam. Backward he feared to go, and forward he might not, for there was +nothing but air. Beside him, growing from the face of the cliff, was a +birch-bush. He grasped it to steady himself. It bent beneath his +clutch, and then he saw, behind it, a hole in the rock through which a +man could creep, and down this hole ran footmarks. + +“First through air like a bird; now through earth like a fox,” said +Eric and entered the hole. Doubling his body till his helm almost +touched his knee he took three paces and lo! he stood on a great +platform of rock, so large that a hall might be built on it, which, +curving inwards, cannot be seen from the narrow pass. This platform, +that is backed by the sheer cliff, looks straight to the south, and +from it he could search the plain and the path that he had travelled, +and there once more he saw Jon and the horses far below him. + +“A strong place, truly, and well chosen,” said Eric and looked around. +On the floor of the rock and some paces from him a turf fire still +smouldered, and by it were sheep’s bones, and beyond, in the face of +the overhanging precipice, was the mouth of a cave. + +“The wolf is at home, or was but lately,” said Eric; “now for his +lair;” and with that he walked warily to the mouth of the cave and +peered in. He could see nothing yet a while, but surely he heard a +sound of snoring? + +Then he crept in, and, presently, by the red light of the burning +embers, he saw a great black-bearded man stretched at length upon a rug +of sheepskins, and by his side an axe. + +“Now it would be easy to make an end of this cave-dweller,” thought +Eric; “but that is a deed I will not do—no, not even to a Baresark—to +slay him in his sleep,” and therewith he stepped lightly to the side of +Skallagrim, and was about to prick him with the point of Whitefire, +when! as he did so, another man sat up behind Skallagrim. + +“By Thor! for two I did not bargain,” said Eric, and sprang from the +cave. + +Then, with a grunt of rage, that Baresark who was behind Skallagrim +came out like a she-bear robbed of her whelps, and ran straight at +Eric, sword aloft. Eric gives before him right to the edge of the +cliff. Then the Baresark smites at him and Brighteyes catches the blow +on his shield, and smites at him in turn so well and truly, that the +head of the Baresark flies from his shoulders and spins along the +ground, but his body, with outstretched arms yet gripping at the air, +falls over the edge of the gulf sheer into the water, a hundred fathoms +down. It was the flash that Whitefire made as it circled ere it smote +that Jon saw while he waited in the dell upon the mountain side. But of +the Baresark he saw nothing, for he passed down into the great +fire-riven cleft and was never seen more, save once only, in a strange +fashion that shall be told. This was the first man whom Brighteyes +slew. + +Now the old tale tells that Eric cried aloud: “Little chance had this +one,” and that then a wonderful thing came to pass. For the head on the +rock opened its eyes and answered: + +“Little chance indeed against thee, Eric Brighteyes. Still, I tell thee +this: that where my body fell there thou shalt fall, and where it lies +there thou shalt lie also.” + +Now Eric was afraid, for he thought it a strange thing that a severed +head should speak to him. + +“Here it seems I have to deal with trolls,” he said; “but at the least, +though he speak, this one shall strike no more,” and he looked at the +head, but it answered nothing. + +Now Skallagrim slept through it all and the light grew so dim that Eric +thought it time to make an end this way or that. Therefore, he took the +head of the slain man, though he feared to touch it, and rolled it +swiftly into the cave, saying, “Now, being so glib of speech, go tell +thy mate that Eric Brighteyes knocks at his door.” + +Then came sounds as of a man rising, and presently Skallagrim rushed +forth with axe aloft and his fellow’s head in his left hand. He was +clothed in nothing but a shirt and the skin of Eric’s lamb was bound to +his chest. + +“Where now is my mate?” he said. Then he saw Eric leaning on Whitefire, +his golden helm ablaze with the glory of the passing sun. + +“It seems that thou holdest somewhat of him in thine hand, Skallagrim, +and for the rest, go seek it in yonder rift.” + +“Who art thou?” roared Skallagrim. + +“Thou mayest know me by this token,” said Eric, and he threw towards +him the skin of that lamb’s tail which Skallagrim had lifted from +Coldback. + +Now Skallagrim knew him and the Baresark fit came on. His eyes rolled, +foam flew to his lips, his mouth grinned, and he was awesome to see. He +let fall the head, and, swinging the great axe aloft, rushed at Eric. +But Brighteyes is too swift for him. It would not be well to let that +stroke fall, and it must go hard with aught it struck. He springs +forward, he louts low and sweeps upwards with Whitefire. Skallagrim +sees the sword flare and drops almost to his knee, guarding his head +with the axe; but Whitefire strikes on the iron half of the axe and +shears it in two, so that the axe-head falls to earth. Now the Baresark +is weaponless but unharmed, and it would be an easy task to slay him as +he rushes by. But it came into Eric’s mind that it is an unworthy deed +to slay a swordless man, and this came into his mind also, that he +desired to match his naked might against a Baresark in his rage. So, in +the hardihood of his youth and strength, he cast Whitefire aside, and +crying “Come, try a fall with me, Baresark,” rushed on Skallagrim. + +“Thou art mad,” yells the Baresark, and they are at it hard. Now they +grip and rend and tear. Ospakar was strong, but the Baresark strength +of Skallagrim is more than the strength of Ospakar, and soon Brighteyes +thinks longingly on Whitefire that he has cast aside. Eric is mighty +beyond the might of men, but he can scarcely hold his own against this +mad man, and very soon he knows that only one chance is left to him, +and that is to cling to Skallagrim till the Baresark fit be passed and +he is once more like other men. But this is easier to tell of than to +do, and presently, strive as he will, Eric is on his back, and +Skallagrim on him. But still he holds the Baresark as with bands of +iron, and Skallagrim may not free his arms, though he strive furiously. +Now they roll over and over on the rock, and the gloom gathers fast +about them till presently Eric sees that they draw near to the brink of +that mighty rift down which the severed head of the cave-dweller has +foretold his fall. + +“Then we go together,” says Eric, but the Baresark does not heed. Now +they are on the very brink, and here as it chances, or as the Norns +decree, a little rock juts up and this keeps them from falling. Eric is +uppermost, and, strive as he will, Skallagrim may not turn him on his +back again. Still, Brighteyes’ strength may not endure very long, for +he grows faint, and his legs slip slowly over the side of the rift till +now he clings, as it were, by his ribs and shoulder-blades alone, that +rub against the little rock. The light dies away, and Eric thinks on +sweet Gudruda and makes ready to die also, when suddenly a last ray +from the sun falls on the fierce face of Skallagrim, and lo! Brighteyes +sees it change, for the madness goes out of it, and in a moment the +Baresark becomes but as a child in his mighty grip. + +“Hold!” said Skallagrim, “I crave peace,” and he loosed his clasp. + +“Not too soon, then,” gasped Eric as, drawing his legs from over the +brink of the rift, he gained his feet and, staggering to his sword, +grasped it very thankfully. + +“I am fordone!” said Skallagrim; “come, drag me from this place, for I +fall; or, if thou wilt, hew off my head.” + +“I will not serve thee thus,” said Eric. “Thou art a gallant foe,” and +he put out his hand and drew him into safety. + +For a while Skallagrim lay panting, then he gained his hands and knees +and crawled to where Eric leaned against the rock. + +“Lord,” he said, “give me thy hand.” + +Eric stretched forth his left hand, wondering, and Skallagrim took it. +He did not stretch out his right, for, fearing guile, he gripped +Whitefire in it. + +“Lord,” Skallagrim said again, “of all men who ever were, thou art the +mightiest. Five other men had not stood before me in my rage, but, +scorning thy weapon, thou didst overcome me in the noblest fashion, and +by thy naked strength alone. Now hearken. Thou hast given me my life, +and it is thine from this hour to the end. Here I swear fealty to thee. +Slay me if thou wilt, or use me if thou wilt, but I think it will be +better for thee to do this rather than that, for there is but one who +has mastered me, and thou art he, and it is borne in upon my mind that +thou wilt have need of my strength, and that shortly.” + +“That may well be, Skallagrim,” said Eric, “yet I put little trust in +outlaws and cave-dwellers. How do I know, if I take thee to me, that +thou wilt not murder me in my sleep, as it would have been easy for me +to do by thee but now?” + +“What is it that runs from thy arm,” asked Skallagrim. + +“Blood,” said Eric. + +“Stretch out thine arm, lord.” + +Eric did so, and the Baresark put his lips to the scratch and sucked +the blood, then said: + +“In this blood of thine I pledge thee, Eric Brighteyes! May Valhalla +refuse me and Hela take me; may I be hunted like a fox from earth to +earth; may trolls torment me and wizards sport with me o’ night; may my +limbs shrivel and my heart turn to water; may my foes overtake me, and +my bones be crushed across the doom-stone—if I fail in one jot from +this my oath that I have sworn! I will guard thy back, I will smite thy +enemies, thy hearthstone shall be my temple, thy honour my honour. +Thrall am I of thine, and thrall I will be, and whiles thou wilt we +will live one life, and, in the end, we will die one death.” + +“It seems that in going to seek a foe I have found a friend,” said +Eric, “and it is likely enough that I shall need one. Skallagrim, +Baresark and outlaw as thou art, I take thee at thy word. Henceforth, +we are master and man and we will do many a deed side by side, and in +token of it I lengthen thy name and call thee Skallagrim Lambstail. +Now, if thou hast it, give me food and drink, for I am faint from that +hug of thine, old bear.” + + + + +CHAPTER VIII +HOW OSPAKAR BLACKTOOTH FOUND ERIC BRIGHTEYES AND SKALLAGRIM LAMBSTAIL +ON HORSE-HEAD HEIGHTS + + +Now Skallagrim led Eric to his cave and fed the fire and gave him flesh +to eat and ale to drink. When he had eaten his fill Eric looked at the +Baresark. He had black hair streaked with grey that hung down upon his +shoulders. His nose was hooked like an eagle’s beak, his beard was wild +and his sunken eyes were keen as a hawk’s. He was somewhat bent and not +over tall, but of a mighty make, for his shoulders must pass many a +door sideways. + +“Thou art a great man,” said Eric, “and it is something to have +overcome thee. Now tell me what turned thee Baresark.” + +“A shameful deed that was done against me, lord. Ten years ago I was a +yeoman of small wealth in the north. I had but one good thing, and that +was the fairest housewife in those parts—Thorunna by name—and I loved +her much, but we had no children. Now, not far from my stead is a place +called Swinefell, and there dwells a mighty chief named Ospakar +Blacktooth; he is an evil man and strong——” + +Eric started at the name and then bade Skallagrim take up the tale. + +“It chanced that Ospakar saw my wife Thorunna and would take her, but +at first she did not listen. Then he promised her wealth and all good +things, and she was weary of our hard way of life and hearkened. Still, +she would not go away openly, for that had brought shame on her, but +plotted with Ospakar that he should come and take her as though by +force. So it came about, as I lay heavily asleep one night at +Thorunna’s side, having drunk somewhat too deeply of the autumn ale, +that armed men seized me, bound me, and haled me from my bed. There +were eight of them, and with them was Ospakar. Then Blacktooth bid +Thorunna rise, clothe herself and come to be his May, and she made +pretence to weep at this, but fell to it readily enough. Now she bound +her girdle round her and to it a knife hung. + +“‘Kill thyself, sweet,’ I cried: ‘death is better than shame.’ + +“‘Not so, husband,’ she answered. ‘It is true that I love but thee; yet +a woman may find another love, but not another life,’ and I saw her +laugh through her mock tears. Now Ospakar rode in hot haste away to +Swinefell and with him went Thorunna, but his men stayed a while and +drank my ale, and, as they drank, they mocked me who was bound before +them, and little by little all the truth was told of the doings of +Ospakar and Thorunna my housewife, and I learned that it was she who +had planned this sport. Then my eyes grew dark and I drew near to death +from very shame and bitterness. But of a sudden something leaped up in +my heart, fire raged before my eyes and voices in my ears called on to +war and vengeance. I was Baresark—and like hay bands I burst my cords. +My axe hung on the wainscot. I snatched it thence, and of what befell I +know this alone, that, when the madness passed, eight men lay stretched +out before me, and all the place was but a gore of blood. + +“‘Then I drew the dead together and piled drinking tables over them, +and benches, and turf, and anything else that would burn, and put cod’s +oil on the pile, and fired the stead above them, so that the tale went +abroad that all these men were burned in their cups, and I with them. + +“‘But I took the name of Skallagrim and swore an oath against all men, +ay, and women too, and away I went to the wood-folk and worked much +mischief, for I spared few, and so on to Mosfell. Here I have stayed +these five years, awaiting the time when I shall find Ospakar and +Thorunna the harlot, and I have fought many men, but, till thou camest +up against me, none could stand before my might.” + +“A strange tale, truly,” said Eric; “but now hearken thou to a +stranger, for of a truth it seems that we have not come together by +chance,” and he told him of Gudruda and the wrestling and of the +overthrow of Blacktooth, and showed him Whitefire which he won out of +the hand of Ospakar. + +Skallagrim listened and laughed aloud. “Surely,” he said, “this is the +work of the Norns. See, lord, thou and I will yet smite this Ospakar. +He has taken my wife and he would take thy betrothed. Let it be! Let it +be! Ah, would that I had been there to see the wrestling—Ospakar had +never risen from his snow-bed. But there is time left to us, and I +shall yet see his head roll along the dust. Thou hast his goodly sword +and with it thou shalt sweep Blacktooth’s head from his shoulders—or +perchance that shall be my lot,” and with this Skallagrim sprang up, +gnashing his teeth and clutching at the air. + +“Peace,” said Eric. “Blacktooth is not here. Save thy rage until it can +run along thy sword and strike him.” + +“Nay, not here, nor yet so far off, lord. Hearken: I know this Ospakar. +If he has set eyes of longing on Gudruda, Asmund’s daughter, he will +not rest one hour till he have her or is slain; and if he has set eyes +of hate on thee—then take heed to thy going and spy down every path +before thy feet tread it. Soon shall the matter come on for judgment +and even now Odin’s Valkyries[*] choose their own.” + +[*] The “corse-choosing sisters” who were bidden by Odin to single out +those warriors whose hour had come to die in battle and win Valhalla. + + +“It is well, then,” said Eric. + +“Yea, lord, it is well, for we two have little to fear from any six +men, if so be that they fall on us in fair fight. But I do not +altogether like thy tale. Too many women are mixed up in it, and women +stab in the back. A man may deal with swords aloft, but not with +tricks, and lies, and false women’s witchery. It was a woman who +greased thy wrestling soles; mayhap it will be a woman that binds on +thy Hell-shoes when all is done—ay! and who makes them ready for thy +feet.” + +“Of women, as of men,” answered Eric, “there is this to be said, that +some are good and some evil.” + +“Yes, lord, and this also, that the evil ones plot the ill of their +evil, but the good do it of their blind foolishness. Forswear women and +so shalt thou live happy and die in honour—cherish them and live in +wretchedness and die an outcast.” + +“Thy talk is foolish,” said Eric. “Birds must to the air, the sea to +the shore, and man must to woman. As things are so let them be, for +they will soon seem as though they had never been. I had rather kiss my +dear and die, if so it pleases me to do, than kiss her not and live, +for at the last the end will be one end, and kisses are sweet!” + +“That is a good saying,” said Skallagrim, and they fell asleep side by +side and Eric had no fear. + +Now they awoke and the light was already full, for they were weary and +their sleep had been heavy. + +Hard by the mouth of the cave is a little well of water that gathers +there from the rocks above and in this Eric washed himself. Then +Skallagrim showed him the cave and the goodly store of arms that he had +won from those whom he had slain and robbed. + +“A wondrous place, truly,” said Eric, “and well fitted to the uses of +such a chapman[*] as thou art; but, say, how didst thou find it?” + +[*] Merchant. + + +“I followed him who was here before me and gave him choice—to go, or to +fight for the stronghold. But he needs must fight and that was his +bane, for I slew him.” + +“Who was that, then,” asked Eric, “whose head lies yonder?” + +“A cave-dweller, lord, whom I took to me because of the lonesomeness of +the winter tide. He was an evil man, for though it is good to be +Baresark from time to time, yet to dwell with one who is always +Baresark is not good, and thou didst a needful deed in smiting his head +from him—and now let it go to find its trunk,” and he rolled it over +the edge of the great rift. + +“Knowest thou, Skallagrim, that this head spoke to me after it had left +the man’s shoulders, saying that where its body fell there I should +fall, and where it lay there I should lie also?” + +“Then, lord, that is likely to be thy doom, for this man was +foresighted, and, but the night before last, as we rode out to seek +sheep, he felt his head, and said that, before the sun sank again, a +hundred fathoms of air should link it to his shoulders.” + +“It may be so,” answered Eric. “I thought as I lay in thy grip yonder +that the fate was near. And now arm thyself, and take such goods as +thou needest, and let us hence, for that thrall of mine who waits me +yonder will think thou hast been too mighty for me.” + +Skallagrim went to the edge of the rift and searched the plain with his +hawk eyes. + +“No need to hasten, lord,” he said. “See yonder rides thy thrall across +the black sand, and with him goes thy horse. Surely he thought thou +camest no more down the path by which thou wentest up, and it is not +thrall’s work to seek Skallagrim in his lair and ask for tidings.” + +“Wolves take him for a fool!” said Eric in anger. “He will ride to +Middalhof and sing my death-song, and that will sound sadly in some +ears.” + +“It is pleasant, lord,” said Skallagrim, “when good tidings dog the +heels of bad, and womenfolk can spare some tears and be little poorer. +I have horses in a secret dell that I will show thee, and on them we +will ride hence to Middalhof—and there thou must claim peace for me.” + +“It is well,” said Eric; “now arm thyself, for if thou goest with me +thou must make an end of thy Baresark ways, or keep them for the hour +of battle.” + +“I will do thy bidding, lord,” said Skallagrim. Then he entered the +cave and set a plain black steel helm upon his black locks, and a black +chain byrnie about his breast. He took the great axe-head also and +fitted to it the half of another axe that lay among the weapons. Then +he drew out a purse of money and a store of golden rings, and set them +in a bag of otter skin, and buckled it about him. But the other goods +he wrapped up in skins and hid behind some stones which were at the +bottom of the cave—purposing to come another time and fetch them. + +Then they went forth by that same perilous path which Eric had trod, +and Skallagrim showed him how he might pass the rock in safety. + +“A rough road this,” said Eric as he gained the deep cleft. + +“Yea, lord, and, till thou camest, one that none but wood-folk have +trodden.” + +“I would tread it no more,” said Eric again, “and yet that fellow thief +of thine said that I should die here,” and for a while his heart was +heavy. + +Now Skallagrim Lambstail led him by secret paths to a dell rich in +grass, that is hid in the round of the mountain, and here three good +horses were at feed. Then, going to a certain rock, he brought out bits +and saddles, and they caught the horses, and, mounting them, rode away +from Mosfell. + +Now Eric and his henchman Skallagrim the Baresark rode four hours and +saw nobody, till at length they came to the brow of a hill that is +named Horse-Head Heights, and, crossing it, found themselves almost in +the midst of a score of armed men who were about to mount their horses. + +“Now we have company,” said Skallagrim. + +“Yes, and bad company,” answered Eric, “for yonder I spy Ospakar +Blacktooth, and Gizur and Mord his sons, ay and others. Down, and back +to back, for they will show us little gentleness.” + +Then they sprang to earth and took their stand upon a mound of rising +ground—and the men rode towards them. + +“I shall soon know what thy fellowship is worth,” said Eric. + +“Fear not, lord,” answered Skallagrim. “Hold thou thy head and I will +hold thy back. We are met in a good hour.” + +“Good or ill, it is likely to be a short one. Hearken thou: if thou +must turn Baresark when swords begin to flash, at the least stand and +be Baresark where thou art, for if thou rushest on the foe, my back +will be naked and I must soon be sped.” + +“It shall be as thou sayest, lord.” + +Now men rode round them, but at first they did not know Eric, because +of the golden helm that hid his face in shadow. + +“Who are ye?” called Ospakar. + +“I think that thou shouldst know me, Blacktooth,” Eric answered, “for I +set thee heels up in the snow but lately—or, at the least, thou wilt +know this,” and he drew great Whitefire. + +“Thou mayest know me also, Ospakar,” cried the Baresark. “Skallagrim, +men called me, Lambstail, Eric Brighteyes calls me, but once thou didst +call me Ounound. Say, lord, what tidings of Thorunna?” + +Now Ospakar shook his sword, laughing. “I came out to seek one foe, and +I have found two,” he cried. “Hearken, Eric: when thou art slain I go +hence to burn and kill at Middalhof. Shall I bear thy head as keepsake +from thee to Gudruda? For thee, Ounound, I thought thee dead; but, +being yet alive, Thorunna, my sweet love, sends thee this,” and he +hurled a spear at him with all his might. + +But Skallagrim catches the spear as it flies and hurls it back. It +strikes right on the shield of Ospakar and pierces it, ay and the +byrnie, and the shoulder that is beneath the byrnie, so that Blacktooth +was made unmeet for fight, and howled with pain and rage. + +“Go, bid Thorunna draw that splinter forth,” says Skallagrim, “and heal +the hole with kisses.” + +Now Ospakar, writhing with his hurt, shouts to his men to slay the two +of them, and then the fight begins. + +One rushes at Eric and smites at him with an axe. The blow falls on his +shield, and shears off the side of it, then strikes the byrnie beneath, +but lightly. In answer Eric sweeps low at him with Whitefire, and cuts +his leg from under him between knee and thigh, and he falls and dies. + +Another rushes in. Down flashes Whitefire before he can smite, and the +carle’s shield is cloven through. Then he chooses to draw back and +fights no more that day. + +Skallagrim slays a man, and wounds another sore. A tall chief with a +red scar on his face comes at Brighteyes. Twice he feints at the head +while Eric watches, then lowers the sword beneath the cover of his +shield, and sweeps suddenly at Eric’s legs. Brighteyes leaps high into +the air, smiting downward with Whitefire as he leaps, and presently +that chief is dead, shorn through shoulder to breast. + +Now Skallagrim slays another man, and grows Baresark. He looks so +fierce that men fall back from him. + +Two rush on Eric, one from either side. The sword of him on the right +falls on his shield and sinks in, but Brighteyes twists the shorn +shield so strongly that the sword is wrenched from the smiter’s hand. +Now the other sword is aloft above him, and that had been Eric’s bane, +but Skallagrim glances round and sees it about to fall. He has no time +to turn, but dashes the hammer of his axe backward. It falls full on +the swordsman’s head, and the head is shattered. + +“That was well done,” says Eric as the sword goes down. + +“Not so ill but it might be worse,” growls Skallagrim. + +Presently all men drew back from those two, for they have had enough of +Whitefire and the Baresark’s axe. + +Ospakar sits on his horse, his shield pinned to his shoulder and curses +aloud. + +“Close in, you cowards!” he yells, “close in and cut them down!” but no +man stirs. + +Then Eric mocks them. “There are but two of us,” he says, “will no man +try a game with me? Let it not be sung that twenty were overcome of +two.” + +Now Ospakar’s son Mord hears, and he grows mad with rage. He holds his +shield aloft and rushes on. But Gizur the Lawman does not come, for +Gizur was a coward. + +Skallagrim turns to meet Mord, but Eric says:— + +“This one for me, comrade,” and steps forward. + +Mord strikes a mighty blow. Eric’s shield is all shattered and cannot +stay it. It crashes through and falls full on the golden helm, beating +Brighteyes to his knee. Now he is up again and blows fall thick and +fast. Mord is a strong man, unwearied, and skilled in war, and Eric’s +arms grow faint and his strength sinks low. Mord smites again and +wounds him somewhat on the shoulder. + +Eric throws aside his cloven shield and, shouting, plies Whitefire with +both arms. Mord gives before him, then rushes and smites; Eric leaps +aside. Again he rushes and lo! Brighteyes has dropped his point, and it +stands a full span through the back of Mord, and instantly that was his +bane. + +Now men rush to their horses, mount in hot haste and ride away, crying +that these are trolls whom they have to do with here, not men. +Skallagrim sees, and the Baresark fit takes him sore. With axe aloft he +charges after them, screaming as he comes. There is one man, the same +whom he had wounded. He cannot mount easily, and when the Baresark +comes he still lies on the neck of his horse. The great axe wheels on +high and falls, and it is told of this stroke that it was so mighty +that man and horse sank dead beneath it, cloven through and through. +Then the fit leaves Skallagrim and he walks back, and they are alone +with the dead and dying. + +Eric leans on Whitefire and speaks: + +“Get thee gone, Skallagrim Lambstail!” he said; “get thee gone!” + +“It shall be as thou wilt, lord,” answered the Baresark; “but I have +not befriended thee so ill that thou shouldst fear for blows to come.” + +“I will keep no man with me who puts my word aside, Skallagrim. What +did I bid thee? Was it not that thou shouldst have done with the +Baresark ways, and where thou stoodest there thou shouldst bide? and +see: thou didst forget my word swiftly! Now get thee gone!” + +“It is true, lord,” he said. “He who serves must serve wholly,” and +Skallagrim turned to seek his horse. + +“Stay,” said Eric; “thou art a gallant man and I forgive thee: but +cross my will no more. We have slain several men and Ospakar goes hence +wounded. We have got honour, and they loss and the greatest shame. +Nevertheless, ill shall come of this to me, for Ospakar has many +friends and will set a law-suit on foot against me at the Althing,[*] +and thou didst draw the first blood.” + +[*] The annual assembly of free men which, in Iceland, performed the +functions of a Parliament and Supreme Court of Law. + + +“Would that the spear had gone more home,” said Skallagrim. + +“Ospakar’s time is not yet,” answered Eric; “still, he has something by +which to bear us in mind.” + + + + +CHAPTER IX +HOW SWANHILD DEALT WITH GUDRUDA + + +Now Jon, Eric’s thrall, watched all night on Mosfell, but saw nothing +except the light of Whitefire as it smote the Baresark’s head from his +shoulders. He stayed there till daylight, much afraid; then, making +sure that Eric was slain, Jon rode hard and fast for Middalhof, whither +he came at evening. + +Gudruda was watching by the women’s door. She strained her eyes towards +Mosfell to catch the light gleaming on Eric’s golden helm, and +presently it gleamed indeed, white not red. + +“See,” said Swanhild at her side, “Eric comes!” + +“Not Eric, but his thrall,” answered Gudruda, “to tell us that Eric is +sped.” + +They waited in silence while Jon galloped towards them. + +“What news of Brighteyes?” cried Swanhild. + +“Little need to ask,” said Gudruda, “look at his face.” + +Now Jon told his tale and Gudruda listened, clinging to the door post. +But Swanhild cursed him for a coward, so that he shrank before her +eyes. + +Gudruda turned and walked into the hall and her face was like the face +of death. Men saw her, and Asmund asked why she wore so strange a mien. +Then Gudruda sang this song: + +“Up to Mosfell, battle eager, +Rode helmed Brighteyen to the fray. +Back from Mosfell, battle shunning, +Slunk yon coward thrall I ween. +Now shall maid Gudruda never +Know a husband’s dear embrace; +Widowed is she—sunk in sorrow, +Eric treads Valhalla’s halls!” + + +And with this she walked from the stead, looking neither to the right +nor to the left. + +“Let the maid be,” said Atli the Earl. “Grief fares best alone. But my +heart is sore for Eric. It should go ill with that Baresark if I might +get a grip of him.” + +“That I will have before summer is gone,” said Asmund, for the death of +Eric seemed to him the worst of sorrows. + +Gudruda walked far, and, crossing Laxà by the stepping stones, climbed +Stonefell till she came to the head of Golden Falls, for, like a +stricken thing, she desired to be alone in her grief. But Swanhild saw +her and followed, coming on her as she sat watching the water thunder +down the mighty cleft. Presently Swanhild’s shadow fell athwart her, +and Gudruda looked up. + +“What wouldst thou with me, Swanhild?” she asked. “Art thou come to +mock my grief?” + +“Nay, foster-sister, for then I must mock my own. I come to mix my +tears with thine. See, we loved Eric, thou and I, and Eric is dead. Let +our hate be buried in his grave, whence neither may draw him back.” + +Gudruda looked upon her coldly, for nothing could stir her now. + +“Get thee gone,” she said. “Weep thine own tears and leave me to weep +mine. Not with thee will I mourn Eric.” + +Swanhild frowned and bit her lip. “I will not come to thee with words +of peace a second time, my rival,” she said. “Eric is dead, but my hate +that was born of Eric’s love for thee lives on and grows, and its +flower shall be thy death, Gudruda!” + +“Now that Brighteyes is dead, I would fain follow on his path: so, if +thou listest, throw the gates wide,” Gudruda answered, and heeded her +no more. + +Swanhild went, but not far. On the further side of a knoll of grass she +flung herself to earth and grieved as her fierce heart might. She shed +no tears, but sat silently, looking with empty eyes adown the past, and +onward to the future, and finding no good therein. + +But Gudruda wept as the weight of her loss pressed in upon her—wept +heavy silent tears and cried in her heart to Eric who was gone—cried to +death to come upon her and bring her sleep or Eric. + +So she sat and so she grieved till, quite outworn with sorrow, sleep +stole upon her and she dreamed. Gudruda dreamed that she was dead and +that she sat nigh to the golden door that is in Odin’s house at +Valhalla, by which the warriors pass and repass for ever. There she sat +from age to age, listening to the thunder of ten thousand thousand +tramping feet, and watching the fierce faces of the chosen as they +marched out in armies to do battle in the meads. And as she sat, at +length a one-eyed man, clad in gleaming garments, drew near and spoke +to her. He was glorious to look on, and old, and she knew him for Odin +the Allfather. + +“Whom seekest thou, maid Gudruda?” he asked, and the voice he spoke +with was the voice of waters. + +“I seek Eric Brighteyes,” she answered, “who passed hither a thousand +years ago, and for love of whom I am heart-broken.” + +“Eric Brighteyes, Thorgrimur’s son?” quoth Odin. “I know him well; no +brisker warrior enters at Valhalla’s doors, and none shall do more +service at the coming of grey wolf Fenrir.[*] Pass on and leave him to +his glory and his God.” + +[*] The foe destined to bring destruction on the Norse gods. + + +Then, in her dream, she wept sore, and prayed of Odin by the name of +Freya that he would give Eric to her for a little space. + +“What wilt thou pay, then, maid Gudruda?” said Odin. + +“My life,” she answered. + +“Good,” he said; “for a night Eric shall be thine. Then die, and let +thy death be his cause of death.” And Odin sang this song: + +“Now, corse-choosing Daughters, hearken +To the dread Allfather’s word: +When the gale of spears’ breath gathers +Count not Eric midst the slain, +Till Brighteyen once hath slumbered, +Wedded, at Gudruda’s side— +Then, Maidens, scream your battle call; +Whelmed with foes, let Eric fall!” + + +And Gudruda awoke, but in her ears the mighty waters still seemed to +speak with Odin’s voice, saying: + +“Then, Maidens, scream your battle call; +Whelmed with foes, let Eric fall!” + + +She awoke from that fey sleep, and looked upwards, and lo! before her, +with shattered shield and all besmeared with war’s red rain, stood +gold-helmed Eric. There he stood, great and beautiful to see, and she +looked on him trembling and amazed. + +“Is it indeed thou, Eric, or is it yet my dream?” she said. + +“I am no dream, surely,” said Eric; “but why lookest thou thus on me, +Gudruda?” + +She rose slowly. “Methought,” she said, “methought that thou wast dead +at the hand of Skallagrim.” And with a great cry she fell into his arms +and lay there sobbing. + +It was a sweet sight thus to see Gudruda the Fair, her head of gold +pillowed on Eric’s war-stained byrnie, her dark eyes afloat with tears +of joy; but not so thought Swanhild, watching. She shook in jealous +rage, then crept away, and hid herself where she could see no more, +lest she should be smitten with madness. + +“Whence camest thou? ah! whence camest thou?” said Gudruda. “I thought +thee dead, my love; but now I dreamed that I prayed Odin, and he spared +thee to me for a little.” + +“Well, and that he hath, though hardly,” and he told her all that had +happened, and how, as he rode with Skallagrim, who yet sat yonder on +his horse, he caught sight of a woman seated on the grass and knew the +colour of the cloak. + +Then Gudruda kissed him for very joy, and they were happy each with +each—for of all things that are sweet on earth, there is nothing more +sweet than this: to find him we loved, and thought dead and cold, alive +and at our side. + +And so they talked and were very glad with the gladness of youth and +love, till Eric said he must on to Middalhof before the light failed, +for he could not come on horseback the way that Gudruda took, but must +ride round the shoulder of the hill; and, moreover, he was spent with +toil and hunger, and Skallagrim grew weary of waiting. + +“Go!” said Gudruda; “I will be there presently!” + +So he kissed her and went, and Swanhild saw the kiss and saw him go. + +“Well, lord,” said Skallagrim, “hast thou had thy fill of kissing?” + +“Not altogether,” answered Eric. + +They rode a while in silence. + +“I thought the maid seemed very fair!” said Skallagrim. + +“There are women less favoured, Skallagrim.” + +“Rich bait for mighty fish!” said Skallagrim. “This I tell thee: that, +strive as thou mayest against thy fate, that maid will be thy bane and +mine also.” + +“Things foredoomed will happen,” said Eric; “but if thou fearest a +maid, the cure is easy: depart from my company.” + +“Who was the other?” asked the Baresark—“she who crept and peered, +listened, then crept back again, hid her face in her hands, and talked +with a grey wolf that came to her like a dog?” + +“That must have been Swanhild,” said Eric, “but I did not see her. Ever +does she hide like a rat in the thatch, and as for the wolf, he must be +her Familiar; for, like Groa, her mother, Swanhild plays much with +witchcraft. Now I will away back to Gudruda, for my heart misdoubts me +of this matter. Stay thou here till I come, Lambstail!” And Eric turns +and gallops back to the head of Goldfoss. + +When Eric left her, Gudruda drew yet nearer to the edge of the mighty +falls, and seated herself on their very brink. Her breast was full of +joy, and there she sat and let the splendour of the night and the +greatness of the rushing sounds sink into her heart. Yonder shone the +setting sun, poised, as it were, on Westman’s distant peaks, and here +sped the waters, and by that path Eric had come back to her. Yea, and +there on Sheep-saddle was the road that he had trod down Goldfoss; and +but now he had slain one Baresark and won another to be his thrall, and +they two alone had smitten the company of Ospakar, and come thence with +honour and but little harmed. Surely no such man as Eric had ever +lived—none so fair and strong and tender; and she was right happy in +his love! She stretched out her arms towards him whom but an hour gone +she had thought dead, but who had lived to come back to her with +honour, and blessed his beloved name, and laughed aloud in her +joyousness of heart, calling: + +“_Eric! Eric!_” + +But Swanhild, creeping behind her, did not laugh. She heard Gudruda’s +voice and guessed Gudruda’s gladness, and jealousy arose within her and +rent her. Should this fair rival live to take her joy from her? + +“_Grey Wolf, Grey Wolf! what sayest thou?_” + +See, now, if Gudruda were gone, if she rolled a corpse into those +boiling waters, Eric might yet be hers; or, if he was not hers, yet +Gudruda’s he could never be. + +“_Grey Wolf, Grey Wolf! what is thy counsel?_” + +Right on the brink of the great gulf sat Gudruda. One stroke and all +would be ended. Eric had gone; there was no eye to see—none save the +Grey Wolf’s; there was no tongue to tell the deed that might be done. +Who could call her to account? The Gods! Who were the Gods? What were +the Gods? Were they not dreams? There were no Gods save the Gods of +Evil—the Gods she knew and communed with. + +“_Grey Wolf, Grey Wolf! what is thy rede?_” + +There sat Gudruda, laughing in the triumph of her joy, with the +sunset-glow shining on her beauty, and there, behind her, Swanhild +crept—crept like a fox upon his sleeping prey. + +Now she is there— + +“_I hear thee, Grey Wolf! Back to my breast, Grey Wolf!_” + +Surely Gudruda heard something? She half turned her head, then again +fell to calling aloud to the waters: + +“Eric! beloved Eric!—ah! is there ever a light like the light of thine +eyes—is there ever a joy like the joy of thy kiss?” + +Swanhild heard, and her springs of mercy froze. Hate and fury entered +into her. She rose upon her knees and gathered up her strength: + +“Seek, then, thy joy in Goldfoss,” she cried aloud, and with all her +force she thrust. + +Gudruda fell a fathom or more, then, with a cry, she clutched wildly at +a little ledge of rock, and hung there, her feet resting on the +shelving bank. Thirty fathoms down swirled and poured and rolled the +waters of the Golden Falls. A fathom above, red in the red light of +evening, lowered the pitiless face of Swanhild. Gudruda looked beneath +her and saw. Pale with agony she looked up and saw, but she said +naught. + +“Let go, my rival; let go!” cried Swanhild: “there is none to help +thee, and none to tell thy tale. Let go, I say, and seek thy +marriage-bed in Goldfoss!” + +But Gudruda clung on and gazed upwards with white face and piteous +eyes. + +“What! art thou so fain of a moment’s life?” said Swanhild. “Then I +will save thee from thyself, for it must be ill to suffer thus!” and +she ran to seek a rock. Now she finds one and, staggering beneath its +weight to the brink of the gulf, peers over. Still Gudruda hangs. Space +yawns beneath her, the waters roar in her ears, the red sky glows +above. She sees Swanhild come and shrieks aloud. + +Eric is there, though Swanhild hears him not, for the sound of his +horse’s galloping feet is lost in the roar of waters. But that cry +comes to his ears, he sees the poised rock, and all grows clear to him. +He leaps from his horse, and even as she looses the stone, clutches +Swanhild’s kirtle and hurls her back. The rock bounds sideways and +presently is lost in the waters. + +Eric looks over. He sees Gudruda’s white face gleaming in the gloom. +Down he leaps upon the ledge, though this is no easy thing. + +“Hold fast! I come; hold fast!” he cries. + +“I can no more,” gasps Gudruda, and one hand slips. + +Eric grasps the rock and, stretching downward, grips her wrist; just as +her hold loosens he grips it, and she swings loose, her weight hanging +on his arm. + +Now he must needs lift her up and that with one hand, for the ledge is +narrow and he dare not loose his hold of the rock above. She swings +over the great gulf and she is senseless as one dead. He gathers all +his mighty strength and lifts. His feet slip a little, then catch, and +once more Gudruda swings. The sweat bursts out upon his forehead and +his blood drums through him. Now it must be, or not at all. Again he +lifts and his muscles strain and crack, and she lies beside him on the +narrow ledge! + +All is not yet done. The brink of the cleft is the height of a man +above him. There he must lay her, for he may not leave her to find aid, +lest she should wake and roll into the chasm. Loosing his hold of the +cliff, he turns, facing the rock, and, bending over Gudruda, twists his +hands in her kirtle below the breast and above the knee. Then once more +Eric puts out his might and draws her up to the level of his breast, +and rests. Again with all his force he lifts her above the crest of his +helm and throws her forward, so that now she lies upon the brink of the +great cliff. He almost falls backward at the effort, but, clutching the +rock, he saves himself, and with a struggle gains her side, and lies +there, panting like a wearied hound of chase. + +Of all trials of strength that ever were put upon his might, Eric was +wont to say, this lifting of Gudruda was the greatest; for she was no +light woman, and there was little to stand on and almost nothing to +cling to. + +Presently Brighteyes rose and peered at Gudruda through the gloom. She +still swooned. Then he gazed about him—but Swanhild, the witchgirl, was +gone. + +Then he took Gudruda in his arms, and, leading the horse, stumbled +through the darkness, calling on Skallagrim. The Baresark answered, and +presently his large form was seen looming in the gloom. + +Eric told his tale in few words. + +“The ways of womankind are evil,” said Skallagrim; “but of all the +deeds that I have known done at their hands, this is the worst. It had +been well to hurl the wolf-witch from the cliff.” + +“Ay, well,” said Eric; “but that song must yet be sung.” + +Now dimly lighted of the rising moon by turns they bore Gudruda down +the mountain side, till at length, utterly fordone, they saw the fires +of Middalhof. + + + + +CHAPTER X +HOW ASMUND SPOKE WITH SWANHILD + + +Now as the days went, though Atli’s ship was bound for sea, she did not +sail, and it came about that the Earl sank ever deeper in the toils of +Swanhild. He called to mind many wise saws, but these availed him +little: for when Love rises like the sun, wisdom melts like the mists. +So at length it came to this, that on the day of Eric’s coming back, +Atli went to Asmund the Priest, and asked him for the hand of Swanhild +the Fatherless in marriage. Asmund heard and was glad, for he knew well +that things went badly between Swanhild and Gudruda, and it seemed good +to him that seas should be set between them. Nevertheless, he thought +it honest to warn the Earl that Swanhild was apart from other women. + +“Thou dost great honour, earl, to my foster-daughter and my house,” he +said. “Still, it behoves me to move gently in this matter. Swanhild is +fair, and she shall not go hence a wife undowered. But I must tell thee +this: that her ways are dark and secret, and strange and fiery are her +moods, and I think that she will bring evil on the man who weds her. +Now, I love thee, Atli, were it only for our youth’s sake, and thou art +not altogether fit to mate with such a maid, for age has met thee on +thy way. For, as thou wouldst say, youth draws to youth as the tide to +the shore, and falls away from eld as the wave from the rock. Think, +then: is it well that thou shouldst take her, Atli?” + +“I have thought much and overmuch,” answered the Earl, stroking his +grey beard; “but ships old and new drive before a gale.” + +“Ay, Atli, and the new ship rides, where the old one founders.” + +“A true rede, a heavy rede, Asmund; yet I am minded to sail this sea, +and, if it sink me—well, I have known fair weather! Great longing has +got hold of me, and I think the maid looks gently on me, and that +things may yet go well between us. I have many things to give such as +women love. At the least, if thou givest me thy good word, I will risk +it, Asmund: for the bold thrower sometimes wins the stake. Only I say +this, that, if Swanhild is unwilling, let there be an end of my wooing, +for I do not wish to take a bride who turns from my grey hairs.” + +Asmund said that it should be so, and they made an end of talking just +as the light faded. + +Now Asmund went out seeking Swanhild, and presently he met her near the +stead. He could not see her face, and that was well, for it was not +good to look on, but her mien was wondrous wild. + +“Where hast thou been, Swanhild?” he asked. + +“Mourning Eric Brighteyes,” she made answer. + +“It is meeter for Gudruda to mourn over Eric than for thee, for her +loss is heavy,” Asmund said sternly. “What hast thou to do with Eric?” + +“Little, or much; or all—read it as thou wilt, foster-father. Still, +all wept for are not lost, nor all who are lost wept for.” + +“Little do I know of thy dark redes,” said Asmund. “Where is Gudruda +now?” + +“High is she or low, sleeping or perchance awakened: naught reck I. She +also mourned for Eric, and we went nigh to mingling tears—near together +were brown curls and golden,” and she laughed aloud. + +“Thou art surely fey, thou evil girl!” said Asmund. + +“Ay, foster-father, fey: yet is this but the first of my feydom. Here +starts the road that I must travel, and my feet shall be red ere the +journey’s done.” + +“Leave thy dark talk,” said Asmund, “for to me it is as the wind’s +song, and listen: a good thing has befallen thee—ay, good beyond thy +deserving.” + +“Is it so? Well, I stand greatly in need of good. What is thy tidings, +foster-father?” + +“This: Atli the Earl asks thee in marriage, and he is a mighty man, +well honoured in his own land, and set higher, moreover, than I had +looked for thee.” + +“Ay,” answered Swanhild, “set like the snow above the fells, set in the +years that long are dead. Nay, foster-father, this white-bearded dotard +is no mate for me. What! shall I mix my fire with his frost, my +breathing youth with the creeping palsy of his age? Never! If Swanhild +weds she weds not so, for it is better to go maiden to the grave than +thus to shrink and wither at the touch of eld. Now is Atli’s wooing +sped, and there’s an end.” + +Asmund heard and grew wroth, for the matter seemed strange to him; nor +are maidens wont thus to put aside the word of those set over them. + +“There is no end,” he said; “I will not be answered thus by a girl who +lives upon my bounty. It is my rede that thou weddest Atli, or else +thou goest hence. I have loved thee, and for that love’s sake I have +borne thy wickedness, thy dark secret ways, and evil words; but I will +be crossed no more by thee, Swanhild.” + +“Thou wouldst drive me hence with Groa my mother, though perchance thou +hast yet more reason to hold me dear, foster-father. Fear not: I will +go—perhaps further than thou thinkest,” and once more Swanhild laughed, +and passed from him into the darkness. + +But Asmund stood looking after her. “Truly,” he said in his heart, “ill +deeds are arrows that pierce him who shot them. I have sowed evilly, +and now I reap the harvest. What means she with her talk of Gudruda and +the rest?” + +Now as he thought, he saw men and horses draw near, and one man, whose +helm gleamed in the moonlight, bore something in his arms. + +“Who passes?” he called. + +“Eric Brighteyes, Skallagrim Lambstail, and Gudruda, Asmund’s +daughter,” answered a voice; “who art thou?” + +Then Asmund the Priest sprang forward, most glad at heart, for he never +thought to see Eric again. + +“Welcome, and thrice welcome art thou, Eric,” he cried; “for, know, we +deemed thee dead.” + +“I have lately gone near to death, lord,” said Eric, for he knew the +voice; “but I am hale and whole, though somewhat weary.” + +“What has come to pass, then?” asked Asmund, “and why holdest thou +Gudruda in thy arms? Is the maid dead?” + +“Nay, she does but swoon. See, even now she stirs,” and as he spake +Gudruda awoke, shuddering, and with a little cry threw her arms about +the neck of Eric. + +He set her down and comforted her, then once more turned to Asmund: + +“Three things have come about,” he said. “First, I have slain one +Baresark, and won another to be my thrall, and for him I crave thy +peace, for he has served me well. Next, we two were set upon by Ospakar +Blacktooth and his fellowship, and, fighting for our hands, have +wounded Ospakar, slain Mord his son, and six other men of his +following.” + +“That is good news and bad,” said Asmund, “since Ospakar will ask a +great weregild[*] for these men, and thou wilt be outlawed, Eric.” + +[*] The penalty for manslaying. + + +“That may happen, lord. There is time enough to think of it. Now there +are other tidings to tell. Coming to the head of Goldfoss I found +Gudruda, my betrothed, mourning my death, and spoke with her. +Afterwards I left her, and presently returned again, to see her hanging +over the gulf, and Swanhild hurling rocks upon her to crush her.” + +“These are tidings in truth,” said Asmund—“such tidings as my heart +feared! Is this true, Gudruda?” + +“It is true, my father,” answered Gudruda, trembling. “As I sat on the +brink of Goldfoss, Swanhild crept behind me and thrust me into the +gulf. There I clung above the waters, and she brought a rock to hurl +upon me, when suddenly I saw Eric’s face, and after that my mind left +me and I can tell no more.” + +Now Asmund grew as one mad. He plucked at his beard and stamped on the +ground. “Maid though she be,” he cried, “yet shall Swanhild’s back be +broken on the Stone of Doom for a witch and a murderess, and her body +hurled into the pool of faithless women, and the earth will be well rid +of her!” + +Now Gudruda looked up and smiled: “It would be ill to wreak such a +vengeance on her, father,” she said; “and this would also bring the +greatest shame on thee, and all our house. I am saved, by the mercy of +the Gods and the might of Eric’s arm, and this is my counsel: that +nothing be told of this tale, but that Swanhild be sent away where she +can harm us no more.” + +“She must be sent to the grave, then,” said Asmund, and fell to +thinking. Presently he spoke again: “Bid yon man fall back, I would +speak with you twain,” and Skallagrim went grumbling. + +“Hearken now, Eric and Gudruda: only an hour ago hath Atli the Good +asked Swanhild of me in marriage. But now I met Swanhild here, and her +mien was wild. Still, I spoke of the matter to her, and she would have +none of it. Now, this is my counsel: that choice be given to Swanhild, +either that she go hence Atli’s wife, or take her trial in the +Doom-ring.” + +“That will be bad for the Earl then,” said Eric. “Methinks he is too +good a man to be played on thus.” + +“_Bairn first, then friend_,” answered Asmund. + +“Now I will tell thee something that, till this hour, I have hidden +from all, for it is my shame. This Swanhild is my daughter, and +therefore I have loved her and put away her evil deeds, and she is +half-sister to thee, Gudruda. See, then, how sore is my straight, who +must avenge daughter upon daughter.” + +“Knows thy son Björn of this?” asked Eric. + +“None knew it till this hour, except Groa and I.” + +“Yet I have feared it long, father,” said Gudruda, “and therefore I +have also borne with Swanhild, though she hates me much and has striven +hard to draw my betrothed from me. Now thou canst only take one +counsel, and it is: to give choice to Swanhild of these two things, +though it is unworthy that Atli should be deceived, and at the best +little good can come of it.” + +“Yet it must be done, for honour is often slain of heavy need,” said +Asmund. “But we must first swear this Baresark thrall of thine, though +little faith lives in Baresark’s breast.” + +Now Eric called to Skallagrim and charged him strictly that he should +tell nothing of Swanhild, and of the wolf that he saw by her, and of +how Gudruda was found hanging over the gulf. + +“Fear not,” growled the Baresark, “my tongue is now my master’s. What +is it to me if women do their wickedness one on another? Let them work +magic, hate and slay by stealth, so shall evil be lessened in the +world.” + +“Peace!” said Eric; “if anything of this passes thy lips thou art no +longer a thrall of mine, and I give thee up to the men of thy quarter.” + +“And I cleave that wolf’s head of thine down to thy hawk’s eyes; but, +otherwise, I give thee peace, and will hold thee from harm, +wood-dweller as thou art,” said Asmund. + +The Baresark laughed: “My hands will hold my head against ten such +mannikins as thou art, Priest. There was never but one man who might +overcome me in fair fight and there he stands, and his bidding is my +law. So waste no words and make not niddering threats against greater +folk,” and he slouched back to his horse. + +“A mighty man and a rough,” said Asmund, looking after him; “I like his +looks little.” + +“Natheless a strong in battle,” quoth Eric; “had he not been at my back +some six hours gone, by now the ravens had torn out these eyes of mine. +Therefore, for my sake, bear with him.” + +Asmund said it should be so, and then they passed on to the stead. + +Here Eric stripped off his harness, washed, and bound up his wounds. +Then, followed by Skallagrim, axe in hand, he came into the hall as men +made ready to sit at meat. Now the tale of the mighty deeds that he had +done, except that of the saving of Gudruda, had gone abroad, and as +Brighteyes came all men rose and with one voice shouted till the roof +of the great hall rocked: + +“_Welcome, Eric Brighteyes, thou glory of the south!_” + +Only Björn, Asmund’s son, bit his hand, and did not shout, for he hated +Eric because of the fame that he had won. + +Brighteyes stood still till the clamour died, then said: + +“Much noise for little deeds, brethren. It is true that I overthrew the +Mosfell Baresarks. See, here is one,” and he turned to Skallagrim; “I +strangled him in my arms on Mosfell’s brink, and that was something of +a deed. Then he swore fealty to me, and we are blood-brethren now, and +therefore I ask peace for him, comrades—even from those whom he has +wronged or whose kin he has slain. I know this, that when thereafter we +stood back to back and met the company of Ospakar Blacktooth, who came +to slay us—ay, and Asmund also, and bear away Gudruda to be his wife—he +warred right gallantly, till seven of their band lay stiff on +Horse-Head Heights, overthrown of us, and among them Mord, Blacktooth’s +son; and Ospakar himself went thence sore smitten of this Skallagrim. +Therefore, for my sake, do no harm to this man who was Baresark, but +now is my thrall; and, moreover, I beg the aid and friendship of all +men of this quarter in those suits that will be laid against me at the +Althing for these slayings, which I hereby give out as done by my hand, +and by the hand of Skallagrim Lambstail, the Baresark.” + +At these words all men shouted again; but Atli the Earl sprang from the +high seat where Asmund had placed him, and, coming to Eric, kissed him, +and, drawing a gold chain from his neck, flung it about the neck of +Eric, crying: + +“Thou art a glorious man, Eric Brighteyes. I thought the world had no +more of such a breed. Listen to my bidding: come thou to the earldom in +Orkneys and be a son to me, and I will give thee all good gifts, and, +when I die, thou shalt sit in my seat after me.” + +But Eric thought of Swanhild, who must go from Iceland as wife to Atli, +and answered: + +“Thou doest me great honour, Earl, but this may not be. Where the fir +is planted, there it must grow and fall. Iceland I love, and I will +stay here among my own people till I am driven away.” + +“That may well happen, then,” said Atli, “for be sure Ospakar and his +kin will not let the matter of these slayings rest, and I think that it +will not avail thee much that thou smotest for thine own hand. Then, +come thou and be my man.” + +“Where the Norns lead there I must follow,” said Eric, and sat down to +meat. Skallagrim sat down also at the side-bench; but men shrank from +him, and he glowered on them in answer. + +Presently Gudruda entered, and she seemed pale and faint. + +When he had done eating, Eric drew Gudruda on to his knee, and she sat +there, resting her golden head upon his breast. But Swanhild did not +come into the hall, though ever Earl Atli sought her dark face and +lovely eyes of blue, and he wondered greatly how his wooing had sped. +Still, at this time he spoke no more of it to Asmund. + +Now Skallagrim drank much ale, and glared about him fiercely; for he +had this fault, that at times he was drunken. In front of him were two +thralls of Asmund’s; they were brothers, and large-made men, and they +watched Asmund’s sheep upon the fells in winter. These two also grew +drunk and jeered at Skallagrim, asking him what atonement he would make +for those ewes of Asmund’s that he had stolen last Yule, and how it +came to pass that he, a Baresark, had been overthrown of an unarmed +man. + +Skallagrim bore their gibes for a space as he drank on, but suddenly he +rose and rushed at them, and, seizing a man’s throat in either hand, +thrust them to the ground beneath him and nearly choked them there. + +Then Eric ran down the hall, and, putting out his strength, tore the +Baresark from them. + +“This then is thy peacefulness, thou wolf!” Eric cried. “Thou art +drunk!” + +“Ay,” growled Skallagrim, “ale is many a man’s doom.” + +“Have a care that it is not thine and mine, then!” said Eric. “Go, +sleep; and know that, if I see thee thus once more, I see thee not +again.” + +But after this men jeered no more at Skallagrim Lambstail, Eric’s +thrall. + + + + +CHAPTER XI +HOW SWANHILD BID FAREWELL TO ERIC + + +Now all this while Asmund sat deep in thought; but when, at length, men +were sunk in sleep, he took a candle of fat and passed to the shut bed +where Swanhild slept alone. She lay on her bed, and her curling hair +was all about her. She was awake, for the light gleamed in her blue +eyes, and on a naked knife that was on the bed beside her, half hidden +by her hair. + +“What wouldst thou, foster-father?” she asked, rising in the couch. +Asmund closed the curtains, then looked at her sternly and spoke in a +low voice: + +“Thou art fair to be so vile a thing, Swanhild,” he said. “Who now +would have dreamed that heart of thine could talk with goblins and with +were-wolves—that those eyes of thine could bear to look on murder and +those white hands find strength to do the sin?” + +She held up her shapely arms and, looking on them, laughed. “Would that +they had been fashioned in a stronger mould,” she said. “May they +wither in their woman’s weakness! else had the deed been done outright. +Now my crime is as heavy upon me and nothing gained by it. Say what +fate for me, foster-father—the Stone of Doom and the pool where +faithless women lie? Ah, then might Gudruda laugh indeed, and I will +not live to hear that laugh. See,” and she gripped the dagger at her +side: “along this bright edge runs the path to peace and freedom, and, +if need be, I will tread it.” + +“Be silent,” said Asmund. “This Gudruda, my daughter, whom thou wouldst +have foully done to death, is thine own sister, and it is she who, +pitying thee, hath pleaded for thy life.” + +“I will naught of her pity who have no pity,” she answered; “and this I +say to thee who art my father: shame be on thee who hast not dared to +own thy child!” + +“Hadst thou not been my child, Swanhild, and had I not loved thee +secretly as my child, be sure of this, I had long since driven thee +hence; for my eyes have been open to much that I have not seemed to +see. But at length thy wickedness has overcome my love, and I will see +thy face no more. Listen: none have heard of this shameful deed of +thine save those who saw it, and their tongues are sealed. Now I give +thee choice: wed Atli and go, or stand in the Doom-ring and take thy +fate.” + +“Have I not said, father, while death may be sought otherwise, that I +will never do this last? Nor will I do the first. I am not all of the +tame breed of you Iceland folk—other and quicker blood runs in my +veins; nor will I be sold in marriage to a dotard as a mare is sold at +a market. I have answered.” + +“Fool! think again, for I go not back upon my word. Wed Atli or die—by +thy own hand, if thou wilt—there I will not gainsay thee; or, if thou +fearest this, then anon in the Doom-ring.” + +Now Swanhild covered her eyes with her hands and shook the long hair +about her face, and she seemed wondrous fair to Asmund the Priest who +watched. And as she sat thus, it came into her mind that marriage is +not the end of a young maid’s life—that old husbands have been known to +die, and that she might rule this Atli and his earldom and become a +rich and honoured woman, setting her sails in such fashion that when +the wind turned it would fill them. Otherwise she must die—ay, die +shamed and leave Gudruda with her love. + +Suddenly she slipped from the bed to the floor of the chamber, and, +clasping the knees of Asmund, looked up through the meshes of her hair, +while tears streamed from her beautiful eyes: + +“I have sinned,” she sobbed—“I have sinned greatly against thee and my +sister. Hearken: I was mad with love of Eric, whom from a child I have +turned to, and Gudruda is fairer than I and she took him from me. Most +of all was I mad this night when I wrought the deed of shame, for ill +things counselled me—things that I did not call; and oh, I thank the +Gods—if there are Gods—that Gudruda died not at my hand. See now, +father, I put this evil from me and tear Eric from my heart,” and she +made as though she rent her bosom—“I will wed Atli, and be a good +housewife to him, and I crave but this of Gudruda: that she forgive me +her wrong; for it was not done of my will, but of my madness, and of +the driving of those whom my mother taught me to know.” + +Asmund listened and the springs of his love thawed within him. “Now +thou dost take good counsel,” he said, “and of this be sure, that so +long as thou art in that mood none shall harm thee; and for Gudruda, +she is the most gentle of women, and it may well be that she will put +away thy sin. So weep no more, and have no more dealings with thy +Finnish witchcraft, but sleep; and to-morrow I will bear thy word to +Atli, for his ship is bound and thou must swiftly be made a wife.” + +He went out, bearing the light with him; but Swanhild rose from the +ground and sat on the edge of the bed, staring into the darkness and +shuddering from time to time. + +“I shall soon be made his wife,” she murmured, “who would be but one +man’s wife—and methinks I shall soon be made a widow also. Thou wilt +have me, dotard—take me and thy fate! Well, well; better to wed an Earl +than to be shamed and stretched across the Doom-stone. Oh, weak arms +that failed me at my need, no more will I put trust in you! When next I +wound, it shall be with the tongue; when next I strive to slay, it +shall be by another’s hand. Curses on thee, thou ill counseller of +darkness, who didst betray me at the last! Is it for this that I +worshipped thee and swore the oath?” + +The morning came, and at the first light Asmund sought the Earl. His +heart was heavy because of the guile that his tongue must practise, and +his face was dark as a winter dawn. + +“What news, Asmund?” asked Atli. “_Early tidings are bad tidings_, so +runs the saw, and thy looks give weight to it.” + +“Not altogether bad, Earl. Swanhild gives herself to thee.” + +“Of her own will, Asmund?” + +“Ay, of her own will. But I have warned thee of her temper.” + +“Her temper! Little hangs to a maid’s temper. Once a wife and it will +melt in softness like the snow when summer comes. These are glad +tidings, comrade, and methinks I grow young again beneath the breath of +them. Why art thou so glum then?” + +“There is something that must yet be told of Swanhild,” said Asmund. +“She is called the Fatherless, but, if thou wilt have the truth, why +here it is for thee—she is my daughter, born out of wedlock, and I know +not how that will please thee.” + +Atli laughed aloud, and his bright eyes shone in his wrinkled face. “It +pleases me well, Asmund, for then the maid is sprung from a sound +stock. The name of the Priest of Middalhof is famous far south of +Iceland; and never that Iceland bred a comelier girl. Is that all?” + +“One more thing, Earl. This I charge thee: watch thy wife, and hold her +back from witchcraft and from dealings with evil things and trolls of +darkness. She is of Finnish blood and the women of the Finns are much +given to such wicked work.” + +“I set little store by witchwork, goblins and their kin,” said Atli. “I +doubt me much of their power, and I shall soon wean Swanhild from such +ways, if indeed she practise them.” + +Then they fell to talking of Swanhild’s dower, and that was not small. +Afterwards Asmund sought Eric and Gudruda, and told them what had come +to pass, and they were glad at the news, though they grieved for Atli +the Earl. And when Swanhild met Gudruda, she came to her humbly, and +humbly kissed her hand, and with tears craved pardon of her evil doing, +saying that she had been mad; nor did Gudruda withhold it, for of all +women she was the gentlest and most forgiving. But to Eric, Swanhild +said nothing. + +The wedding-feast must be held on the third day from this, for Atli +would sail on that same day, since his people wearied of waiting and +his ship might lie bound no longer. Blithe was Atli the Earl, and +Swanhild was all changed, for now she seemed the gentlest of maids, +and, as befitted one about to be made a wife, moved through the house +with soft words and downcast eyes. But Skallagrim, watching her, +bethought him of the grey wolf that he had seen by Goldfoss, and this +seemed not well to him. + +“It would be bad now,” he said to Eric, as they rode to Coldback, “to +stand in yon old earl’s shoes. This woman’s weather has changed too +fast, and after such a calm there’ll come a storm indeed. I am now +minded of Thorunna, for she went just so the day before she gave +herself to Ospakar, and me to shame and bonds.” + +“Talk not of the raven till you hear his croak,” said Eric. + +“He is on the wing, lord,” answered Skallagrim. + +Now Eric came to Coldback in the Marsh, and Saevuna his mother and +Unna, Thorod’s daughter, the betrothed of Asmund, were glad to welcome +him; for the tidings of his mighty deeds and of the overthrow of +Ospakar and the slaying of Mord were noised far and wide. But at +Skallagrim Lambstail they looked askance. Still, when they heard of +those things that he had wrought on Horse-Head Heights, they welcomed +him for his deed’s sake. + +Eric sat two nights at Coldback, and on the second day Saevuna his +mother and Unna rode thence with their servants to the wedding-feast of +Swanhild the Fatherless. But Eric stopped at Coldback that night, +saying that he would be at Middalhof within two hours of sunrise, for +he must talk with a shepherd who came from the fells. + +Saevuna and her company came to Middalhof and was asked, first by +Gudruda, then by Swanhild, why Brighteyes tarried. She answered that he +would be there early on the morrow. Next morning, before it was light, +Eric girded on Whitefire, took horse and rode from Coldback alone, for +he would not bring Skallagrim, fearing lest he should get drunk at the +feast and shed some man’s blood. + +It was Swanhild’s wedding-day; but she greeted it with little +lightsomeness of heart, and her eyes knew no sleep that night, though +they were heavy with tears. + +At the first light she rose, and, gliding from the house, walked +through the heavy dew down the path by which Eric must draw near, for +she desired to speak with him. Gudruda also rose a while after, though +she did not know this, and followed on the same path, for she would +greet her lover at his coming. + +Now three furlongs or more from the stead stood a vetch stack, and +Swanhild waited on the further side of this stack. Presently she heard +a sound of singing come from behind the shoulder of the fell and of the +tramp of a horse’s hoofs. Then she saw the golden wings of Eric’s helm +all ablaze with the sunlight as he rode merrily along, and great +bitterness laid hold of her that Eric could be of such a joyous mood on +the day when she who loved him must be made the wife of another man. + +Presently he was before her, and Swanhild stepped from the shadow of +the stack and laid her hand upon his horse’s bridle. + +“Eric,” she said humbly and with bowed head, “Gudruda sleeps yet. Canst +thou, then, find time to hearken to my words?” + +He frowned and said: “Methinks, Swanhild, it would be better if thou +gavest thy words to him who is thy lord.” + +She let the bridle-rein drop from her hands. “I am answered,” she said; +“ride on.” + +Now pity stirred in Eric’s heart, for Swanhild’s mien was most heavy, +and he leaped down from his horse. “Nay,” he said, “speak on, if thou +hast anything to tell me.” + +“I have this to tell thee, Eric; that now, before we part for ever, I +am come to ask thy pardon for my ill-doing—ay, and to wish all joy to +thee and thy fair love,” and she sobbed and choked. + +“Speak no more of it, Swanhild,” he said, “but let thy good deeds cover +up the ill, which are not small; so thou shalt be happy.” + +She looked at him strangely, and her face was white with pain. + +“How then are we so differently fashioned that thou, Eric, canst prate +to me of happiness when my heart is racked with grief? Oh, Eric, I +blame thee not, for thou hast not wrought this evil on me willingly; +but I say this: that my heart is dead, as I would that I were dead. See +those flowers: they smell sweet—for me they have no odour. Look on the +light leaping from Coldback to the sea, from the sea to Westman Isles, +and from the Westman crown of rocks far into the wide heavens above. It +is beautiful, is it not? Yet I tell thee, Eric, that now to my eyes +howling winter darkness is every whit as fair. Joy is dead within me, +music’s but a jangled madness in my ears, food hath no savour on my +tongue, my youth is sped ere my dawn is day. Nothing is left to me, +Eric, save this fair body that thou didst scorn, and the dreams which I +may gather from my hours of scanty sleep, and such shame as befalls a +loveless bride.” + +“Speak not so, Swanhild,” he said, and clasped her by the hand, for, +though he loathed her wickedness, being soft-hearted and but young, it +grieved him to hear her words and see the anguish of her mind. For it +is so with men, that they are easily moved by the pleading of a fair +woman who loves them, even though they love her not. + +“Yea, I will speak out all my mind before I seal it up for ever. See, +Eric, this is my state and thou hast set this crown of sorrow on my +brows: and thou comest singing down the fell, and I go weeping o’er the +sea! I am not all so ill at heart. It was love of thee that drove me +down to sin, as love of thee might otherwise have lifted me to +holiness. But, loving thee as thou seest, this day I wed a dotard, and +go his chattel and his bride across the sea, and leave thee singing on +the fell, and by thy side her who is my foe. Thou hast done great +deeds, Brighteyes, and still greater shalt thou do; yet but as echoes +they shall reach my ears. Thou wilt be to me as one dead, for it is +Gudruda’s to bind the byrnie on thy breast when thou goest forth to +war, and hers to loose the winged helm from thy brow when thou +returnest, battle-worn and conquering.” + +Now Swanhild ceased, and choked with grief; then spoke again: + +“So now farewell; doubtless I weary thee, and—Gudruda waits. Nay, look +not on my foolish tears: they are the heritage of woman, of naught else +is she sure! While I live, Eric, morn by morn the thought of thee shall +come to wake me as the sun wakes yon snowy peak, and night by night thy +memory shall pass as at eve he passes from the valleys, but to dawn +again in dreams. For, Eric, ‘tis thee I wed to-day—at heart I am thy +bride, thine and thine only; and when shalt thou find a wife who holds +thee so dear as that Swanhild whom once thou knewest? So now farewell! +Yes, this time thou shalt kiss away my tears; then let them stream for +ever. Thus, Eric! and thus! and thus! do I take farewell of thee.” + +And now she clung about his neck, gazing on him with great dewy eyes +till things grew strange and dim, and he must kiss her if only for her +love and tender beauty’s sake. And so he kissed, and it chanced that as +they clung thus, Gudruda, passing by this path to give her betrothed +greeting, came upon them and stood astonished. Then she turned and, +putting her hands to her head, fled back swiftly to the stead, and +waited there, great anger burning in her heart; for Gudruda had this +fault, that she was very jealous. + +Now Eric and Swanhild did not see her, and presently they parted, and +Swanhild wiped her eyes and glided thence. + +As she drew near the stead she found Gudruda watching. + +“Where hast thou been, Swanhild?” she said. + +“To bid farewell to Brighteyes, Gudruda.” + +“Then thou art foolish, for doubtless he thrust thee from him.” + +“Nay, Gudruda, he drew me to him. Hearken, I say, thou sister. Vex me +not, for I go my ways and thou goest thine. Thou art strong and fair, +and hitherto thou hast overcome me. But I am also fair, and, if I find +space to strike in, I also have a show of strength. Pray thou that I +find not space, Gudruda. Now is Eric thine. Perchance one day he may be +mine. It lies in the lap of the Norns.” + +“Fair words from Atli’s bride,” mocked Gudruda. + +“Ay, Atli’s bride, but never Atli’s love!” said Swanhild, and swept on. + +A while after Eric rode up. He was shamefaced and vexed at heart, +because he had yielded thus to Swanhild’s beauty, and been melted by +her tender words and kissed her. Then he saw Gudruda, and at the sight +of her all thought of Swanhild passed from him, for he loved Gudruda +and her alone. He leapt down from his horse and ran to her. But, drawn +to her full height, she stood with dark flashing eyes and fair face set +in anger. + +Still, he would have greeted her loverwise; but she lifted her hand and +waved him back, and fear took hold of him. + +“What now, Gudruda?” he asked, faltering. + +“What now, Eric?” she answered, faltering not. “Hast seen Swanhild?” + +“Yea, I have seen Swanhild. She came to bid farewell to me. What of +it?” + +“What of it? Why ‘_thus! and thus! and thus!_’ didst thou bid farewell +to Atli’s bride. Ay, ‘thus and thus,’ with clinging lips and twined +arms. Warm and soft was thy farewell kiss to her who would have slain +me, Brighteyes!” + +“Gudruda, thou speakest truth, though how thou sawest I know not. Think +no ill of it, and scourge me not with words, for, sooth to say, I was +melted by her grief and the music of her talk.” + +“It is shame to thee so to speak of her whom but now thou heldest in +thine arms. By the grief and the music of the talk of her who would +have murdered me thou wast melted into kisses, Eric!—for I saw it with +these eyes. Knowest thou what I am minded to say to thee? It is this: +‘Go hence and see me no more;’ for I have little wish to cleave to such +a feather-man, to one so blown about by the first breath of woman’s +tempting.” + +“Yet, methinks, Gudruda, I have withstood some such winds. I tell thee +that, hadst thou been in my place, thyself hadst yielded to Swanhild +and kissed her in farewell, for she was more than woman in that hour.” + +“Nay, Eric, I am no weak man to be led astray thus. Yet she is more +than woman—troll is she also, that I know; but less than man art thou, +Eric, thus to fall before her who hates me. Time may come when she +shall woo thee after a stronger sort, and what wilt thou say to her +then, thou who art so ready with thy kisses?” + +“I will withstand her, Gudruda, for I love thee only, and this is well +known to thee.” + +“Truly I know thou lovest me, Eric; but tell me of what worth is this +love of man that eyes of beauty and tongue of craft may so readily +bewray? I doubt me of thee, Eric!” + +“Nay, doubt me not, Gudruda. I love thee alone, but I grew soft as wax +beneath her pleading. My heart consented not, yet I did consent. I have +no more to say.” + +Now Gudruda looked on him long and steadfastly. “Thy plight is sorry, +Eric,” she said, “and this once I forgive thee. Look to it that thou +givest me no more cause to doubt thee, for then I shall remember how +thou didst bid farewell to Swanhild.” + +“I will give none,” he answered, and would have embraced her; but this +she would not suffer then, nor for many days after, for she was angry +with him. But with Swanhild she was still more angry, though she said +nothing of it. That Swanhild had tried to murder her, Gudruda could +forgive, for there she had failed; but not that she had won Eric to +kiss her, for in this she had succeeded well. + + + + +CHAPTER XII +HOW ERIC WAS OUTLAWED AND SAILED A-VIKING + + +Now the marriage-feast went on, and Swanhild, draped in white and girt +about with gold, sat by Atli’s side upon the high seat. He was fain of +her and drew her to him, but she looked at him with cold calm eyes in +which hate lurked. The feast was done, and all the company rode to the +sea strand, where the Earl’s ship lay at anchor. They came there, and +Swanhild kissed Asmund, and talked a while with Groa, her mother, and +bade farewell to all men. But she bade no farewell to Eric and to +Gudruda. + +“Why sayest thou no word to these two?” asked Atli, her husband. + +“For this reason, Earl,” she answered, “because ere long we three shall +meet again; but I shall see Asmund, my father, and Groa, my mother, no +more.” + +“That is an ill saying, wife,” said Atli. “Methinks thou dost foretell +their doom.” + +“Mayhap! And now I will add to my redes, for I foretell _thy_ doom +also: it is not yet, but it draws on.” + +Then Atli bethought him of many wise saws, but spoke no more, for it +seemed to him this was a strange bride that he had wed. + +They hauled the anchor home, shook out the great sail, and passed away +into the evening night. But while land could still be seen, Swanhild +stood near the helm, gazing with her blue eyes upon the lessening +coast. Then she passed to the hold, and shut herself in alone, and +there she stayed, saying that she was sick, till at length, after a +fair voyage of twenty days, they made the Orkney Islands. + +But all this pleased Atli wondrous ill, yet he dared not cross her +mood. + +Now, in Iceland the time drew on when men must ride to the Althing, and +notice was given to Eric Brighteyes of many suits that were laid +against him, in that he had brought Mord, Ospakar’s son, to his death, +dealing him a brain or a body or a marrow wound, and others of that +company. But no suits were laid against Skallagrim, for he was already +outlaw. Therefore he must go in hiding, for men were out to slay him, +and this he did unwillingly, at Eric’s bidding. Asmund took up Eric’s +case, for he was the most famous of all lawmen in that day, and when +thirteen full weeks of summer were done, they two rode to the Thing, +and with them a great company of men of their quarter. + +Now, men go up to the Lögberg, and there came Ospakar, though he was +not yet healed of his wound, and all his company, and laid their suits +against Eric by the mouth of Gizur the Lawman, Ospakar’s son. The +pleadings were long and cunning on either side; but the end of it was +that Ospakar brought it about, by the help of his friends—and of these +he had many—that Eric must go into outlawry for three years. But no +weregild was to be paid to Ospakar and his men for those who had been +killed, and no atonement for the great wound that Skallagrim Lambstail +gave him, or for the death of Mord, his son, inasmuch as Eric fought +for his own hand to save his life. + +The party of Ospakar were ill pleased at this finding, and Eric was not +over glad, for it was little to his mind that he should sail a-warring +across the seas, while Gudruda sat at home in Iceland. Still, there was +no help for the matter. + +Now Ospakar spoke with his company, and the end of it was that he +called on them to take their weapons and avenge themselves by their own +might. Asmund and Eric, seeing this, mustered their army of freemen and +thralls. There were one hundred and five of them, all stout men; but +Ospakar Blacktooth’s band numbered a hundred and thirty-three, and they +stood with their backs to the Raven’s Rift. + +“Now I would that Skallagrim was here to guard my back,” said Eric, +“for before this fight is done few will be left standing to tell its +tale.” + +“It is a sad thing,” said Asmund, “that so many men must die because +some men are now dead.” + +“A very sad thing,” said Eric, and took this counsel. He stalked alone +towards the ranks of Ospakar and called in a loud voice, saying: + +“It would be grievous that so many warriors should fall in such a +matter. Now hearken, you company of Ospakar Blacktooth! If there be any +two among you who will dare to match their might against my single +sword in holmgang, here I, Eric Brighteyes, stand and wait them. It is +better that one man, or perchance three men, should fall, than that +anon so many should roll in the dust. What say ye?” + +Now all those who watched called out that this was a good offer and a +manly one, though it might turn out ill for Eric; but Ospakar answered: + +“Were I but well of my wound I alone would cut that golden comb of +thine, thou braggart; as it is, be sure that two shall be found.” + +“Who is the braggart?” answered Eric. “He who twice has learned the +weight of this arm and yet boasts his strength, or I who stand craving +that two should come against me? Get thee hence, Ospakar; get thee home +and bid Thorunna, thy leman, whom thou didst beguile from that Ounound +who now is named Skallagrim Lambstail the Baresark, nurse thee whole of +the wound her husband gave thee. Be sure we shall yet stand face to +face, and that combs shall be cut then, combs black or golden. Nurse +thee! nurse thee! cease thy prating—get thee home, and bid Thorunna +nurse thee; but first name thou the two who shall stand against me in +holmgang in Oxarà’s stream.” + +Folk laughed aloud while Eric mocked, but Ospakar gnashed his teeth +with rage. Still, he named the two mightiest men in his company, +bidding them take up their swords against Brighteyes. This, indeed, +they were loth to do; still, because of the shame that they must get if +they hung back, and for fear of the wrath of Ospakar, they made ready +to obey his bidding. + +Then all men passed down to the bank of Oxarà, and, on the other side, +people came from their booths and sat upon the slope of All Man’s Raft, +for it was a new thing that one man should fight two in holmgang. + +Now Eric crossed to the island where holmgangs are fought to this day, +and after him came the two chosen, flourishing their swords bravely, +and taking counsel how one should rush at his face, while the other +passed behind his back and spitted him, as woodfolk spit a lamb. Eric +drew Whitefire and leaned on it, waiting for the word, and all the +women held him to be wondrous fair as, clad in his byrnie and his +golden helm, he leaned thus on Whitefire. Presently the word was given, +and Eric, standing not to defend himself as they deemed he surely +would, whirled Whitefire round his helm and rushed headlong on his +foes, shield aloft. + +The great carles saw the light that played on Whitefire’s edge and the +other light that burned in Eric’s eyes, and terror got hold of them. +Now he was almost come, and Whitefire sprang aloft like a tongue of +flame. Then they stayed no more, but, running one this way and one +that, cast themselves into the flood and swam for the river-edge. Now +from either bank rose up a roar of laughter, that grew and grew, till +it echoed against the lava rifts and scared the ravens from their +nests. + +Eric, too, stopped his charge and laughed aloud; then walked back to +where Asmund stood, unarmed, to second him in the holmgang. + +“I can get little honour from such champions as these,” he said. + +“Nay,” answered Asmund, “thou hast got the greatest honour, and they, +and Ospakar, such shame as may not be wiped out.” + +Now when Blacktooth saw what had come to pass, he well-nigh choked, and +fell from his horse in fury. Still, he could find no stomach for +fighting, but, mustering his company, rode straightway from the Thing +home again to Swinefell. But he caused those two whom he had put up to +do battle with Eric to be set upon with staves and driven from his +following, and the end of it was that they might stay no more in +Iceland, but took ship and sailed south, and now they are out of the +story. + +On the next day, Asmund, and with him Eric and all their men, rode back +to Middalhof. Gudruda greeted Eric well, and for the first time since +Swanhild went away she kissed him. Moreover, she wept bitterly when she +learned that he must go into outlawry, while she must bide at home. + +“How shall the days pass by, Eric?” she said, “when thou art far, and I +know not where thou art, nor how it goes with thee, nor if thou livest +or art already dead?” + +“In sooth I cannot say, sweet,” he answered; “but of this I am sure +that, wheresoever I am, yet more weary shall be my hours.” + +“Three years,” she went on—“three long, cold years, and no sight of +thee, and perchance no tidings from thee, till mayhap I learn that thou +art in that land whence tidings cannot come. Oh, it would be better to +die than to part thus.” + +“Well I wot that it is better to die than to live, and better never to +have been born than to live and die,” answered Eric sadly. “Here, it +would seem, is nothing but hate and strife, weariness and bitter envy +to fret away our strength, and at last, if we come so far, sorrowful +age and death, and thereafter we know not what. Little of good do we +find to our hands, and much of evil; nor know I for what ill-doing +these burdens are laid upon us. Yet must we needs breathe such an air +as is blown about us, Gudruda, clasping at this happiness which is +given, though we may not hold it. At the worst, the game will soon be +played, and others will stand where we have stood, and strive as we +have striven, and fail as we have failed, and so on, till man has +worked out his doom, and the Gods cease from their wrath, or Ragnarrök +come upon them, and they too are lost in the jaws of grey wolf Fenrir.” + +“Men may win one good thing, and that is fame, Eric.” + +“Nay, Gudruda, what is it to win fame? Is it not to raise up foes, as +it were, from the very soil, who, made with secret hate, seek to stab +us in the back? Is it not to lose peace, and toil on from height to +height only to be hurled down at last? Happy, then, is the man whom +fame flies from, for hers is a deadly gift.” + +“Yet there is one thing left that thou hast not numbered, Eric, and it +is love—for love is to our life what the sun is to the world, and, +though it seems to set in death, yet it may rise again. We are happy, +then, in our love, for there are many who live their lives and do not +find it.” + +So these two, Eric Brighteyes and Gudruda the Fair, talked sadly, for +their hearts were heavy, and on them lay the shadow of sorrows that +were to come. + +“Say, sweet,” said Eric at length, “wilt thou that I go not into +banishment? Then I must fall into outlawry, and my life will be in the +hands of him who may take it; yet I think that my foes will find it +hard to come by while my strength remains, and at the worst I do but +turn to meet the fate that dogs me.” + +“Nay, that I will not suffer, Brighteyes. Now we will go to my father, +and he shall give thee his dragon of war—she is a good vessel—and thou +shalt man her with the briskest men of our quarter: for there are many +who will be glad to fare abroad with thee, Eric. Soon she shall be +bound and thou shalt sail at once, Eric: for the sooner thou art gone +the sooner the three years will be sped, and thou shalt come back to +me. But, oh! that I might go with thee.” + +Now Gudruda and Eric went to Asmund and spoke of this matter. + +“I desired,” he answered, “that thou, Eric, shouldst bide here in +Iceland till after harvest, for it is then that I would take Unna, +Thorod’s daughter, to wife, and it was meet that thou shouldst sit at +the wedding-feast and give her to me.” + +“Nay, father, let Eric go,” said Gudruda, “for well begun is, surely, +half done. He must remain three years in outlawry: add thou no day to +them, for, if he stays here for long, I know this: that I shall find no +heart to let him go, and, if go he must, then I shall go with him.” + +“That may never be,” said Asmund; “thou art too young and fair to sail +a-viking down the sea-path. Hearken, Eric: I give thee the good ship, +and now we will go about to find stout men to man her.” + +“That is a good gift,” said Eric; and afterwards they rode to the +seashore and overhauled the vessel as she lay in her shed. She was a +great dragon of war, long and slender, and standing high at stem and +prow. She was fashioned of oak, all bolted together with iron, and at +her prow was a gilded dragon most wonderfully carved. + +Eric looked on her and his eyes brightened. + +“Here rests a wave-horse that shall bear a viking well,” he said. + +“Ay,” answered Asmund, “of all the things I own this ship is the very +best. She is so swift that none may catch her, and she can almost go +about in her own length. That gale must be heavy that shall fill her, +with thee to steer; yet I give her to thee freely, Eric, and thou shalt +do great deeds with this my gift, and, if things go well, she shall +come back to this shore at last, and thou in her.” + +“Now I will name this war-gift with a new name,” said Eric. “‘Gudruda,’ +I name her: for, as Gudruda here is the fairest of all women, so is +this the fairest of all war-dragons.” + +“So be it,” said Asmund. + +Then they rode back to Middalhof, and now Eric Brighteyes let it be +known that he needed men to sail the seas with him. Nor did he ask in +vain, for, when it was told that Eric went a-viking, so great was his +fame grown, that many a stout yeoman and many a great-limbed carle +reached down sword and shield and came up to Middalhof to put their +hands in his. For mate, he took a certain man named Hall of Lithdale, +and this because Björn asked it, for Hall was a friend to Björn, and he +had, moreover, great skill in all manner of seamanship, and had often +sailed the Northern Seas—ay, and round England to the coast of France. + +But when Gudruda saw this man, she did not like him, because of his +sharp face, uncanny eyes, and smooth tongue, and she prayed Eric to +have nothing to do with him. + +“It is too late now to talk of that,” said Eric. “Hall is a +well-skilled man, and, for the rest, fear not: I will watch him.” + +“Then evil will come of it,” said Gudruda. + +Skallagrim also liked Hall little, nor did Hall love Skallagrim and his +great axe. + +At length all were gathered; they were fifty in number and it is said +that no such band of men ever took ship from Iceland. + +Now the great dragon was bound and her faring goods were aboard of her, +for Eric must sail on the morrow, if the wind should be fair. All day +long he stalked to and fro among his men; he would trust nothing to +others, and there was no sword or shield in his company but he himself +had proved it. All day long he stalked, and at his back went Skallagrim +Lambstail, axe on shoulder, for he would never leave Eric if he had his +will, and they were a mighty pair. + +At length all was ready and men sat down to the faring-feast in the +hall at Middalhof, and that was a great feast. Eric’s folk were +gathered on the side-benches, and by the high seat at Asmund’s side sat +Brighteyes, and near to him were Björn, Asmund’s son, Gudruda, Unna, +Asmund’s betrothed, and Saevuna, Eric’s mother. For this had been +settled between Asmund and Eric, that his mother Saevuna, who was now +somewhat sunk in age, should flit from Coldback and come with Unna to +dwell at Middalhof. But Eric set a trusty grieve to dwell at Coldback +and mind the farm. + +When the faring-toasts had been drunk, Eric spoke to Asmund and said: +“I fear one thing, lord, and it is that when I am gone Ospakar will +trouble thee. Now, I pray you all to beware of Blacktooth, for, though +the hound is whipped, he can still bite, and it seems that he has not +yet put Gudruda from his mind.” + +Now Björn had sat silently, thinking much and drinking more, for he +loved Eric less than ever on this day when he saw how all men did him +honour and mourned his going, and his father not the least of them. + +“Methinks it is thou, Eric,” he said, “whom Ospakar hates, and thee on +whom he would work his vengeance, and that for no light cause.” + +“When bad fortune sits in thy neighbour’s house, she knocks upon thy +door, Björn. Gudruda, thy sister, is my betrothed, and thou art a party +to this feud,” said Eric. “Therefore it becomes thee better to hold her +honour and thy own against this Northlander, than to gird at me for +that in which I have no blame.” + +Björn grew wroth at these words. “Prate not to me,” he said. “Thou art +an upstart who wouldst teach their duty to thy betters—ay, puffed up +with light-won fame, like a feather on the breeze. But I say this: the +breeze shall fail, and thou shalt fall upon the goose’s back once more. +And I say this also, that, had I my will, Gudruda should wed Ospakar: +for he is a mighty chief, and not a long-legged carle, outlawed for +man-slaying.” + +Now Eric sprang from his seat and laid hand upon the hilt of Whitefire, +while men murmured in the hall, for they held this an ill speech of +Björn’s. + +“In thee, it seems, I have no friend,” said Eric, “and hadst thou been +any other man than Gudruda’s brother, forsooth thou shouldst answer for +thy mocking words. This I tell thee, Björn, that, wert thou twice her +brother, if thou plottest with Ospakar when I am gone, thou shalt pay +dearly for it when I come back again. I know thy heart well: it is +cunning and greedy of gain, and filled with envy as a cask with ale; +yet, if thou lovest to feel it beating in thy breast, strive not to +work me mischief and to put Gudruda from me.” + +Now Björn sprang up also and drew his sword, for he was white with +rage; but Asmund his father cried, “Peace!” in a great voice. + +“Peace!” he said. “Be seated, Eric, and take no heed of this foolish +talk. And for thee, Björn, art thou the Priest of Middalhof, and +Gudruda’s father, or am I? It has pleased me to betroth Brighteyes to +Gudruda, and it pleased me not to betroth her to Ospakar, and that is +enough for thee. For the rest, Ospakar would have slain Eric, not he +Ospakar, therefore Eric’s hands are clean. Though thou art my son, I +say this, that, if thou workest ill to Eric when he is over sea, thou +shalt rightly learn the weight of Whitefire: it is a niddering deed to +plot against an absent man.” + +Eric sat down, but Björn strode scowling from the hall, and, taking +horse, rode south; nor did he and Eric meet again till three years had +come and gone, and then they met but once. + +“Maggots shall be bred of that fly, nor shall they lack flesh to feed +on,” said Skallagrim in Eric’s ears as he watched Björn pass. But Eric +bade him be silent, and turned to Gudruda. + +“Look not so sad, sweet,” he said, “for hasty words rise like the foam +on mead and pass as soon. It vexes Björn that thy father has given me +the good ship: but his anger will soon pass, or, at the very worst, I +fear him not while thou art true to me.” + +“Then thou hast little to fear, Eric,” she answered. “Look now on thy +hair: it grows long as a woman’s, and that is ill, for at sea the salt +will hang to it. Say, shall I cut it for thee?” + +“Yes, Gudruda.” + +So she cut his yellow locks, and one of them lay upon her heart for +many a day. + +“Now thou shalt swear to me,” she whispered in his ear, “that no other +man or woman shall cut thy hair till thou comest back to me and I clip +it again.” + +“That I swear, and readily,” he answered. “I will go long-haired like a +girl for thy sake, Gudruda.” + +He spoke low, but Koll the Half-witted, Groa’s thrall, heard this oath +and kept it in his mind. + +Very early on the morrow all men rose, and, taking horse, rode once +more to the seaside, till they came to that shed where the Gudruda lay. + +Then, when the tide was high, Eric’s company took hold of the black +ship’s thwarts, and at his word dragged her with might and main. She +ran down the greased blocks and sped on quivering to the sea, and as +her dragon-prow dipped in the water people cheered aloud. + +Now Eric must bid farewell to all, and this he did with a brave heart +till at the last he came to Saevuna, his mother, and Gudruda, his dear +love. + +“Farewell, son,” said the old dame; “I have little hope that these eyes +shall look again upon that bonny face of thine, yet I am well paid for +my birth-pains, for few have borne such a man as thou. Think of me at +times, for without me thou hadst never been. Be not led astray of +women, nor lead them astray, or ill shall overtake thee. Be not +quarrelsome because of thy great might, for there is a stronger than +the strongest. Spare a fallen foe, and take not a poor man’s goods or a +brave man’s sword; but, when thou smitest, smite home. So shalt thou +win honour, and, at the last, peace, that is more than honour.” + +Eric thanked her for her counsel, and kissed her, then turned to +Gudruda, who stood, white and still, plucking at her golden girdle. + +“What can I say to thee?” he asked. + +“Say nothing, but go,” she answered: “go before I weep.” + +“Weep not, Gudruda, or thou wilt unman me. Say, thou wilt think on me?” + +“Ay, Eric, by day and by night.” + +“And thou wilt be true to me?” + +“Ay, till death and after, for so long as thou cleavest to me I will +cleave to thee. I will first die rather than betray thee. But of thee I +am not so sure. Perchance thou mayest find Swanhild in thy journeyings +and crave more kisses of her?” + +“Anger me not, Gudruda! thou knowest well that I hate Swanhild more +than any other woman. When I kiss her again, then thou mayst wed +Ospakar.” + +“Speak not so rashly, Eric,” she said, and as she spoke Skallagrim drew +near. + +“If thou lingerest here, lord, the tide will serve us little round +Westmans,” he said, eyeing Gudruda as it were with jealousy. + +“I come,” said Eric. “Gudruda, fare thee well!” + +She kissed him and clung to him, but did not answer, for she could not +speak. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII +HOW HALL THE MATE CUT THE GRAPNEL CHAIN + + +Gudruda bent her head like a drooping flower, and presently sank to +earth, for her knees would bear her weight no more; but Eric marched to +the lip of the sea, his head held high and laughing merrily to hide his +pain of heart. Here stood Asmund, who gripped him by both hands, and +kissed him on the brow, bidding him good luck. + +“I know not whether we shall meet again,” he said; “but, if my hours be +sped before thou returnest, this I charge thee: that thou mindest +Gudruda well, for she is the sweetest of all women that I have known, +and I hold her the most dear.” + +“Fear not for that, lord,” said Eric; “and I pray thee this, that, if I +come back no more, as well may happen, do not force Gudruda into +marriage, if she wills it not, and I think she will have little leaning +that way. And I say this also: do not count overmuch on Björn thy son, +for he has no loyal heart; and beware of Groa, who was thy housekeeper, +for she loves not that Unna should take her place and more. And now I +thank thee for many good things, and farewell.” + +“Farewell, my son,” said Asmund, “for in this hour thou seemest as a +son to me.” + +Eric turned to enter the sea and wade to the vessel, but Skallagrim +caught him in his arms as though he were but a child, and, wading into +the surf till the water covered his waistbelt, bore him to the vessel +and lifted him up so that Eric reached the bulwarks with his hands. + +Then they loosed the cable and got out the oars and soon were dancing +over the sea. Presently the breeze caught them, and they set the great +sail and sped away like a gull towards the Westman Isles. But Gudruda +sat on the shore watching till, at length, the light faded from Eric’s +golden helm as he stood upon the poop, and the world grew dark to her. + +Now Ospakar Blacktooth had news of this sailing and took counsel of +Gizur his son, and the end of it was that they made ready two great +ships, dragons of war, and, placing sixty fighting men in each of them, +sailed round the Iceland coast to the Westmans and waited there to +waylay Eric. They had spies on the land, and from them they learned of +Brighteyes’ coming, and sailed out to meet him in the channel between +the greater and the lesser islands, where they knew that he must pass. + +Now it drew towards evening when Eric rowed down this channel, for the +wind had fallen and he desired to be clear at sea. Presently, as the +Gudruda came near to the mouth of the channel, that had high cliffs on +either hand, Eric saw two long dragons of war—for their bulwarks were +shield-hung—glide from the cover of the island and take their station +side by side between him and the open sea. + +“Now here are vikings,” said Eric to Skallagrim. + +“Now here is Ospakar Blacktooth,” answered Skallagrim, “for well I know +that raven banner of his. This is a good voyage, for we must seek but a +little while before we come to fighting.” + +Eric bade the men lay on their oars, and spoke: + +“Before us is Ospakar Blacktooth in two great dragons, and he is here +to cut us off. Now two choices are left to us: one is to bout ship and +run before him, and the other to row on and give him battle. What say +ye, comrades?” + +Hall of Lithdale, the mate, answered, saying: + +“Let us go back, lest we die. The odds are too great, Eric.” + +But a man among the crew cried out, “When thou didst go on holmgang at +Thingvalla, Eric, Ospakar’s two chosen champions stood before thee, yet +at Whitefire’s flash they skurried through the water like startled +ducks. It was an omen, for so shall his great ships fly when we swoop +on them.” Then the others shouted: + +“Ay, ay! Never let it be said that we fled from Ospakar—fie on thy +woman’s talk, Hall!” + +“Then we are all of one mind, save Hall only,” said Eric. “Let us put +Ospakar to the proof.” And while men shouted “Yea!” he turned to speak +with Skallagrim. The Baresark was gone, for, wasting no breath in +words, already he was fixing the long shields on the bulwark rail. + +The men busked on their harness and made them fit for fight, and, when +all was ready, Eric mounted the poop, and with him Skallagrim, and bade +the rowers give way. The Gudruda leapt forward and rushed on towards +Ospakar’s ships. Now they saw that these were bound together with a +cable and yet they must go betwixt them. + +Eric ran forward to the prow, and with him Skallagrim, and called aloud +to a great man who stood upon the ship to starboard, wearing a black +helm with raven’s wings: + +“Who art thou that bars the sea against me?” + +“I am named Ospakar Blacktooth,” answered the great man. + +“And what must we lose at thy hands, Ospakar?” + +“But one thing—your lives!” answered Blacktooth. + +“Thrice have we stood face to face, Ospakar,” said Eric, “and it seems +that hitherto thou hast won no great glory. Now it shall be proved if +thy luck has bettered.” + +“Art yet healed, lord, of that prick in the shoulder which thou camest +by on Horse-Head Heights?” roared Skallagrim. + +For answer, Ospakar seized a spear and hurled it straight at Eric, and +it had been his death had he not caught it in his hand as it flew. Then +he cast it back, and that so mightily that it sped right through the +shield of Ospakar and was the bane of a man who stood beside him. + +“A gift for a gift!” laughed Eric. On rushed the Gudruda, but now the +cable was strained six fathoms from her bow that held together the +ships of Ospakar and it was too strong for breaking. Eric looked and +saw. Then he drew Whitefire, and while all men wondered, leaped over +the prow of the ship and, clasping the golden dragon’s head with his +arm, set his feet upon its claws and waited. On sped the ship and +spears flew thick and fast about him, but there Brighteyes hung. Now +the Gudruda’s bow caught the great rope and strained it taut and, as it +rose beneath her weight, Eric smote swift and strong with Whitefire and +clove it in two, so that the severed ends fell with a splash into the +quiet water. + +Eric sprang back to deck while stones and spears hissed about him. + +“That was well done, lord,” said Skallagrim; “now we shall be snugly +berthed.” + +“In oars and out grappling-irons,” shouted Eric. + +Up rose the rowers, and their war-gear rattled as they rose. They drew +in the long oars, and not before it was time, for now the Gudruda +forced her way between the two dragons of Ospakar and lay with her bow +to their sterns. Then with a shout Eric’s men cast the irons and soon +the ships were locked fast and the fight began. The spears flew thick, +and on either side some got their death before them. Then the men of +that vessel, named the Raven, which was to larboard of the Gudruda, +made ready to board. On they came with a rush, and were driven back, +though hardly, for they were many, and those who stood against them +few. Again they came, scrambling over the bulwarks, and this time a +score of them leapt aboard. Eric turned from the fight against the +dragon of Ospakar and saw it. Then, with Skallagrim, he rushed to meet +the boarders as they swarmed along the hold, and naught might they +withstand the axe and sword. + +Through and through them swept the mighty pair, now Whitefire flashed, +and now the great axe fell, and at every stroke a man lay dead or +wounded. Six of the boarders turned to fly, but just then the +grappling-iron broke and their ship drifted out with the tide towards +the open sea, and presently no man of that twenty was left alive. + +Now the men of the ship of Ospakar and of the Gudruda pressed each +other hard. Thrice did Ospakar strive to come aboard and thrice he was +pushed back. Eric was ever where he was most needed, and with him +Skallagrim, for these two threw themselves from side to side, and were +now here and now there, so that it seemed as though there were not one +golden helm and one black, but rather four on board the Gudruda. + +Eric looked and saw that the other ship was drawing round, though +somewhat slowly, to come alongside of them once more. + +“Now we must make an end of Ospakar, else our hands will be overfull,” +he said, and therewith sprang up upon the bulwarks and after him many +men. Once they were driven back, but came on again, and now they thrust +all Ospakar’s men before them and passed up his ship on both boards. By +the mast stood Ospakar and with him Gizur his son, and Eric strove to +come to him. But many men were between them, and he could not do this. + +Presently, while the fight yet went on hotly and men fell fast, +Brighteyes felt the dragon of Ospakar strike, and, looking, saw that +they had drifted with the send of the tide on to the rocks of the +island. There was a great hole in the hull amidships and the water +rushed in fast. + +“Back! men; back!” he cried, and all his folk that were unhurt, ran, +and leapt on board the Gudruda; but Ospakar and his men sprang into the +sea and swam for the shore. Then Skallagrim cut loose the +grappling-irons with his axe, and that not too soon, for, scarcely had +they pushed clear with great toil when the long warship slipped from +the rock and foundered, taking many dead and wounded men with her. + +Now Ospakar and some of his people stood safe upon the rocks, and Eric +called to him in mockery, bidding him come aboard the Gudruda. + +Ospakar made no answer, but stood gnawing his hand, while the water ran +from him. Only Gizur his son cursed them aloud. + +Eric was greatly minded to follow them, and land and fight them there; +but he might not do this, because of the rocks and of the other dragon, +that hung about them, fearing to come on and yet not willing to go +back. + +“We will have her, at the least,” said Eric, and bade the rowers get +out their oars. + +Now, when the men on board the other ship saw the Gudruda drawing on, +they took to their oars at once and rowed swiftly for the sea, and at +this a great roar of laughter went down Eric’s ship. + +“They shall not slip from us so easily,” said Eric; “give way, +comrades, and after them.” + +But the men were much wearied with fighting, and the decks were all +cumbered with dead and wounded, so that by the time that the Gudruda +had put about, and come to the mouth of the waterway, Ospakar’s vessel +had shaken out her sails and caught the wind, that now blew strong off +shore, and sped away six furlongs or more from Eric’s prow. + +“Now we shall see how the Gudruda sails,” said Eric, and they spread +their canvas and gave chase. + +Then Eric bade men clear the decks of the dead, and tend the wounded. +He had lost seven men slain outright, and three were wounded, one to +death. But on board the ship there lay of Ospakar’s force twenty and +three dead men. + +When all were cast into the sea, men ate and rested. + +“We have not done so badly,” said Eric to Skallagrim. + +“We shall do better yet,” said Skallagrim to Eric; “rather had I seen +Ospakar’s head lying in the scuppers than those of all his carles; for +he may get more men, but never another head!” + +Now the wind freshened till by midnight it blew strongly. The mate Hall +came to Eric and said: + +“The Gudruda dips her nose deep in Ran’s cup. Say, Eric, shall we +shorten sail?” + +“Nay,” answered Eric, “keep her full and bail. Where yonder Raven +flies, my Sea-stag must follow,” and he pointed to the warship that +rode the waves before them. + +After midnight clouds came up, with rain, and hid the face of the +night-sun and the ship they sought. The wind blew ever harder, till at +length, when the rain had passed and the clouds lifted, there was much +water in the hold and the bailers could hardly stand at their work. + +Men murmured, and Hall the mate murmured most of all; but still Eric +held on, for there, not two furlongs ahead of them, rode the dragon of +Ospakar. But now, being afraid of the wind and sea, she had lowered her +sail somewhat, and made as though she would put about and run for +Iceland. + +“That she may not do,” called Eric to Skallagrim, “if once she rolls +side on to those seas Ran has her, for she must fill and sink.” + +“So they hold, lord,” answered Skallagrim; “see, once more she runs!” + +“Ay, but we run faster—she is outsailed. Up, men, up: for presently the +fight begins.” + +“It is bad to join battle in such a sea,” quoth Hall. + +“Good or bad,” growled Skallagrim, “do thou thy lord’s bidding,” and he +half lifted up his axe. + +The mate said no more, for he misdoubted him of Skallagrim Lambstail +and his axe. + +Then men made ready for the fray as best they might, and stood, sword +in hand and drenched with foam, clinging to the bulwarks of the Gudruda +as she wallowed through the seas. + +Eric went aft to the helm and seized it. Now but a length ahead +Ospakar’s ship laboured on beneath her small sail, but the Gudruda +rushed towards her with all canvas set and at every leap plunged her +golden dragon beneath the surf and shook the water from her foredeck. + +“Make ready the grapnel!” shouted Eric through the storm. Skallagrim +seized the iron and stood by. Now the Gudruda rushed alongside the +Raven, and Eric steered so skilfully that there was a fathom space, and +no more, between the ships. + +Skallagrim cast the iron well and truly, so that it hooked and held. On +sped the Gudruda and the cable tautened—now her stern kissed the bow of +Ospakar’s ship, as though she was towing her, and thus for a space they +travelled through the seas. + +Eric’s folk shouted and strove to cast spears; but they did this but +ill, because of the rocking of the vessel. As for Ospakar’s men, they +clung to their bulwarks and did nothing, for all the heart was out of +them between fear of Eric and terror of the sea. Eric called to a man +to hold the helm, and Skallagrim crept aft to where he stood. + +“What counsel shall we take now?” said Eric, and as he spoke a sea +broke over them—for the gale was strong. + +“Board them and make an end,” answered Skallagrim. + +“Rough work; still, we will try it,” said Eric, “for we may not lie +thus for long, and I am loath to leave them.” + +Then Eric called for men to follow him, and many answered, creeping as +best they might to where he stood. + +“Thou art mad, Eric,” said Hall the mate; “cut loose and let us drive, +else we shall both founder, and that is a poor tale to tell.” + +Eric took no heed, but, watching his chance, leapt on to the bows of +the Raven, and after him leapt Skallagrim. Even as he did so, a great +sea came and swept past and over them, so that half the ship was hid +for foam. Now, Hall the mate stood near to the grapnel cable, and, +fearing lest they should sink, out of the cowardice of his heart, he +let his axe fall upon the chain, and severed it so swiftly that no man +saw him, except Skallagrim only. Forward sprang the Gudruda, freed from +her burden, and rushed away before the wind, leaving Eric and +Skallagrim alone upon the Raven’s prow. + +“Now we are in an evil plight,” said Eric, “the cable has parted!” + +“Ay,” answered Skallagrim, “and that losel Hall hath parted it! I saw +his axe fall.” + + + + +CHAPTER XIV +HOW ERIC DREAMED A DREAM + + +Now, when the men of Ospakar, who were gathered on the poop of the +Raven, saw what had come about, they shouted aloud and made ready to +slay the pair. But Eric and Skallagrim clambered to the mast and got +their backs against it, and swiftly made themselves fast with a rope, +so that they might not fall with the rolling of the ship. Then the +people of Ospakar came on to cut them down. + +But this was no easy task, for they might scarcely stand, and they +could not shoot with the bow. Moreover, Eric and Skallagrim, being +bound to the mast, had the use of both hands and were minded to die +hard. Therefore Ospakar’s folks got but one thing by their onslaught, +and that was death, for three of their number fell beneath the long +sweep of Whitefire, and one bowed before the axe of Skallagrim. Then +they drew back and strove to throw spears at these two, but they flew +wide because of the rolling of the vessel. One spear struck the mast +near the head of Skallagrim. He drew it out, and, waiting till the ship +steadied herself in the trough of the sea, hurled it at a knot of +Ospakar’s thralls, and a man got his death from it. After that they +threw no more spears. + +Thence once more the crew came on with swords and axes, but +faint-heartedly, and the end of it was that they lost some more men +dead and wounded and fell back again. + +Skallagrim mocked at them with bitter words, and one of them, made mad +by his scoffing, cast a heavy ballast-stone at him. It fell upon his +shoulder and numbed him. + +“Now I am unmeet for fight, lord,” said Skallagrim, “for my right arm +is dead and I can scarcely hold my axe.” + +“That is ill, then,” said Eric, “for we have little help, except from +each other, and I, too, am well-nigh spent. Well, we have done a great +deed and now it is time to rest.” + +“My left arm is yet whole, lord, and I can make shift for a while with +it. Cut loose the cord before they bait us to death, and let us rush +upon these wolves and fall fighting.” + +“A good counsel,” said Eric, “and a quick end; but stay a while: what +plan have they now?” + +Now the men of Ospakar, having little heart left in them for such work +as this, had taken thought together. + +“We have got great hurt, and little honour,” said the mate. “There are +but nineteen of us left alive, and that is scarcely enough to work the +ship, and it seems that we shall be fewer before Eric Brighteyes and +Skallagrim Lambstail lie quiet by yonder mast. They are mighty men, +indeed, and it would be better, methinks, to deal with them by craft, +rather than by force.” + +The sailors said that this was a good word, for they were weary of the +sight of Whitefire as he flamed on high and the sound of the axe of +Skallagrim as it crashed through helm and byrnie; and as fear crept in +valour fled out. + +“This is my rede, then,” said the mate: “that we go to them and give +them peace, and lay them in bonds, swearing that we will put them +ashore when we are come back to Iceland. But when we have them fast, as +they sleep at night, we will creep on them and hurl them into the sea, +and afterwards we will say that we slew them fighting.” + +“A shameful deed!” said a man. + +“Then go thou up against them,” answered the mate. “If we slay them +not, then shall this tale be told against us throughout Iceland: that a +ship’s company were worsted by two men, and we may not live beneath +that dishonour.” + +The man held his peace, and the mate, laying down his arms, crept +forward alone, towards the mast, just as Eric and Skallagrim were about +to cut themselves loose and rush on them. + +“What wouldest thou?” shouted Eric. “Has it gone so well with you with +arms that ye are minded to come up against us bearing none?” + +“It has gone ill, Eric,” said the mate, “for ye twain are too mighty +for us. We have lost many men, and we shall lose more ere ye are laid +low. Therefore we make you this offer: that you lay down your weapons +and suffer yourselves to be bound till such time as we touch land, +where we will set you ashore, and give you your arms again. Meanwhile, +we will deal with you in friendly fashion, giving you of the best we +have; nor will we set foot any suit against you for those of our number +whom ye two have slain.” + +“Wherefore then should we be bound?” said Eric. + +“For this reason only: that we dare not leave you free within our ship. +Now choose, and, if ye will, take peace, which we swear by all the Gods +we will keep towards you, and, if ye will not, then we will bear you +down with beams and sails and stones, and slay you.” + +“What thinkest thou, Skallagrim?” said Eric beneath his breath. + +“I think that I find little faith in yon carle’s face,” answered +Skallagrim. “Still, I am unfit to fight, and thy strength is spent, so +it seems that we must lie low if we would rise again. They can scarcely +be so base as to do murder having handselled peace to us.” + +“I am not so sure of that,” said Eric; “still, starving beggars must +eat bones. Hearken thou: we take the terms, trusting to your honour; +and I say this: that ye shall get shame and death if ye depart from +them to harm us.” + +“Have no fear, lord,” said the mate, “we are true men.” + +“That we shall look to your deeds to learn,” said Eric, laying down his +sword and shield. + +Skallagrim did likewise, though with no good grace. Then men came with +strong cords and bound them fast hand and foot, handling them +fearsomely as men handle a live bear in a net. Then they led them +forward to the prow. + +As they went Eric looked up. Yonder, twenty furlongs and more away, +sailed the Gudruda. + +“This is good fellowship,” said Skallagrim, “thus to leave us in the +trap.” + +“Nay,” answered Eric. “They cannot put about in such a sea, and +doubtless also they think us dead. Nevertheless, if ever it comes about +that Hall and I stand face to face again, there will be need for me to +think of gentleness.” + +“I shall think little thereon,” growled Skallagrim. + +Now they were come to the prow, and there was a half deck under which +they were set, out of reach of the wind and water. In the deck was a +stout iron ring, and the men made them fast with ropes to it, so that +they might move but little, and they set their helms and weapons behind +them in such fashion that they could not come at them. Then they flung +cloaks about them, and brought them food and drink, of which they stood +much in need, and treated them well in every way. But for all this +Skallagrim trusted them no more. + +“We are new-hooked, lord,” he said, “and they give us line. Presently +they will haul us in.” + +“Evil comes soon enough,” answered Eric, “no need to run to greet it,” +and he fell to thinking of Gudruda, and of the day’s deeds, till +presently he dropped asleep, for he was very weary. + +Now it chanced that as Eric slept he dreamed a dream so strong and +strange that it seemed to live within him. He dreamed that he slept +there beneath the Raven’s deck, and that a rat came and whispered +spells into his ear. Then he dreamed that Swanhild glided towards him, +walking on the stormy seas. He saw her afar, and she came swiftly, and +ever the sea grew smooth before her feet, nor did the wind so much as +stir her hair. Presently she stood by him in the ship, and, bending +over him, touched him on the shoulder, saying: + +“Awake, Eric Brighteyes! Awake! awake!” + +It seemed to him that he awoke and said “What tidings, Swanhild?” and +that she answered: + +“Ill tidings, Eric—so ill that I am come hither from Straumey[*] to +tell of them—ay, come walking on the seas. Had Gudruda done so much, +thinkest thou?” + +[*] Stroma, the southernmost of the Orkneys. + + +“Gudruda is no witch,” he said in his dream. + +“Nay, but I am a witch, and it is well for thee, Eric. Ay, I am a +witch. Now do I seem to sleep at Atli’s side, and lo! here I stand by +thine, and I must journey back again many a league before another day +be born—ay, many a league, and all for love of thee, Eric! Hearken, for +not long may the spell endure. I have seen this by my magic: that these +men who bound thee come even now to take thee, sleeping, and cast thee +and thy thrall into the deep, there to drown.” + +“If it is fated it will befall,” he said in his dream. + +“Nay, it shall not befall. Put forth all thy might and burst thy bonds. +Then fetch Whitefire; cut away the bonds of Skallagrim, and give him +his axe and shield. This done, cover yourselves with your cloaks, and +wait till ye hear the murderers come. Then rise and rush upon them, the +two of you, and they shall melt before your might. I have journeyed +over the great deep to tell thee this, Eric! Had Gudruda done as much, +thinkest thou?” + +And it seemed to him that the wraith of Swanhild kissed him on the +brow, sighed and vanished, bearing the rat in her bosom. + +Eric awoke suddenly, just as though he had never slept, and looked +around. He knew by the lowness of the sun that it was far into the +night, and that he had slept for many hours. They were alone beneath +the deck, and far aft, beyond the mast, as the vessel rose upon the +waves—for the sea was still rough, though the wind had fallen—Eric saw +the mate of the Raven talking earnestly with some men of his crew. +Skallagrim snored beside him. + +“Awake!” Eric said in his ear, “awake and listen!” + +He yawned and roused himself. “What now, lord?” he said. + +“This,” said Eric, and he told him the dream that he had dreamed. + +“That was a fey dream,” said Skallagrim, “and now we must do as the +wraith bade thee.” + +“Easy to say, but hard to do,” quoth Eric; “this is a great rope that +holds us, and a strong.” + +“Yes, it is great and strong; still, we must burst it.” + +Now Eric and Skallagrim were made fast in this fashion: their hands +were bound behind them, and their legs were lashed above the feet and +above the knee. Moreover, a thick cord was fixed about the waist of +each, and this cord was passed through the iron ring and knotted there. +But it chanced that beneath the hollows of their knees ran an oaken +beam, which held the forepart of the dragon together. + +“We may try this,” said Eric: “to set our feet against the beam and +strain with all our strength upon the rope; though I think that no two +men can part it.” + +“We shall know that presently,” said Skallagrim, gathering up his legs. + +Then they set their feet against the beam and pulled till it groaned; +but, though the rope gave somewhat, it would not break. They rested a +while, then strained again till the sweat burst out upon them and the +rope cut into their flesh, but still it would not part. + +“We have found our match,” said Eric. + +“That is not altogether proved yet,” answered the Baresark. “Many a +shield is riven at the third stroke.” + +So once again they set their feet against the beam, and put out all +their strength. + +“The ring bends,” gasped Eric. “Now, when the roll of the ship throws +our weight to leeward, in the name of Thor pull!” + +They waited, then put out their might, and lo! though the rope did not +break, the iron ring burst asunder and they rolled upon the deck. + +“Well pulled, truly,” said Skallagrim as he struggled to his haunches: +“I am marked about the middle with rope-twists for many a day to come, +that I will swear. What next, lord?” + +“Whitefire,” answered Eric. + +Now, their arms were piled a fathom or more from where they sat, and +right in the prow of the ship. Hither, then, they must crawl upon their +knees, and this was weary work, for ever as the ship rolled they fell, +and could in no wise save themselves from hurt. Eric was bleeding at +the brow, and bloody was the hooked nose of Skallagrim, before they +came to where Whitefire was. At length they reached the sword, and +pushed aside the bucklers that were over it with their heads. The great +war-blade was sheathed, and Eric must needs lie upon his breast and +draw the weapon somewhat with his teeth. + +“This is an ill razor to shave with,” he said, rising, for the keen +blade had cut his chin. + +“So some have thought and perchance more shall think,” answered +Skallagrim. “Now set the rope on the edge and rub.” + +This they did, and presently the thick cord that bound them was in two. +Then Eric knelt upon the deck and pressed the bonds that bound his legs +upon the blade, and after him Skallagrim. They were free now, except +for their hands, and it was no easy thing to cut away the bonds upon +their wrists. It was done thus: Skallagrim sat upon the deck, and Eric +pushed the sword between his fingers with his feet. Then the Baresark +rose, holding the sword, and Eric, turning back to back with him, +fretted the cords upon his wrists against the blade. Twice he cut +himself, but the third time the cord parted and he was free. He +stretched his arms, for they were stiff; then took Whitefire and cut +away the bonds of Skallagrim. + +“How goes it with that hurt of thine?” he asked. + +“Better than I had thought,” answered Skallagrim; “the soreness has +come out with the bruise.” + +“That is good news,” said Eric, “for methinks, unless Swanhild walked +the seas for nothing, thou wilt soon need thine arms.” + +“They have never failed me yet,” said Skallagrim and took his axe and +shield. “What counsel now?” + +“This, Skallagrim: that we lie down as we were, and put the cloaks +about us as though we were yet in bonds. Then, if these knaves come, we +can take them unawares as they think to take us.” + +So they went again to where they had been bound, and lay down upon +their shields and weapons, drawing cloaks over them. Scarcely had they +done this and rested a while, when they saw the mate and all the crew +coming along both boards towards them. They bore no weapons in their +hands. + +“None too soon did Swanhild walk,” said Eric; “now we shall learn their +purpose. Be thou ready to leap forth when I give the word.” + +“Ay, lord,” answered Skallagrim as he worked his stiff arms to and fro. +“In such matters few have thought me backward.” + +“What news, friends?” cried Eric as the men drew near. + +“Bad news for thee, Brighteyes,” answered the mate, “and that Baresark +thrall of thine, for we must loose your bands.” + +“That is good news, then,” said Eric, “for our limbs are numb and dead +because of the nipping of the cords. Is land in sight?” + +“Nay, nor will be for thee, Eric.” + +“How now, friend? how now? Sure, having handselled peace to us, ye mean +no harm towards two unarmed men?” + +“We swore to do you no harm, nor will we, Eric; this only will we do: +deliver you, bound, to Ran, and leave her to deal with you as she may.” + +“Bethink you, sirs,” said Eric: “this is a cruel deed and most unmanly. +We yielded to you in faith—will ye break your troth?” + +“War has no troth,” he answered, “ye are too great to let slip between +our fingers. Shall it be said of us that two men overcame us all?” + +“Mayhap!” murmured Skallagrim beneath his breath. + +“Oh, sirs, I beseech you,” said Eric; “I am young, and there is a maid +who waits me out in Iceland, and it is hard to die,” and he made as +though he wept, while Skallagrim laughed within his sleeve, for it was +strange to see Eric feigning fear. + +But the men mocked aloud. + +“This is the great man,” they cried, “this is that Eric of whose deeds +folk sing! Look! he weeps like a child when he sees the water. Drag him +forth and away with him into the sea!” + +“Little need for that,” cried Eric, and lo! the cloaks about him and +Skallagrim flew aside. Out they came with a roar; they came out as a +she-bear from her cave, and high above Brighteyes’ golden curls +Whitefire shone in the pale light, and nigh to it shone the axe of +Skallagrim. Whitefire flared aloft, then down he fell and sought the +false heart of the mate. The great axe of Skallagrim shone and was lost +in the breast of the carle who stood before him. + +“Trolls!” shrieked one. “Here are trolls!” and turned to fly. But again +Whitefire was up and that man flew not far—one pace, and no more. Then +they fled screaming and after them came axe and sword. They fled, they +fell, they leaped into the sea, till none were left to fall and leap, +for they had no time or heart to find or draw their weapons, and +presently Eric Brighteyes and Skallagrim Lambstail stood alone upon the +deck—alone with the dead. + +“Swanhild is a wise witch,” gasped Eric, “and, whatever ill she has +done, I will remember this to her honour.” + +“Little good comes of witchcraft,” answered Skallagrim, wiping his +brow: “to-day it works for our hands, to-morrow it shall work against +them.” + +“To the helm,” said Eric; “the ship yaws and comes side on to the +seas.” + +Skallagrim sprang to the tiller and put his strength on it, and but +just in time, for one big sea came aboard them and left much water in +the hold. + +“We owe this to thy Baresark ways,” said Eric. “Hadst thou not slain +the steersman we had not filled with water.” + +“True, lord,” answered Skallagrim; “but when once my axe is aloft, it +seems to fly of itself, till nothing is left before it. What course +now?” + +“The same on which the Gudruda was laid. Perhaps, if we may endure till +we come to the Farey Isles,[*] we shall find her in harbour there.” + +[*] The Faroes. + + +“There is not much chance of that,” said Skallagrim; “still, the wind +is fair, and we fly fast before it.” + +Then they lashed the tiller and set to bailing. They bailed long, and +it was heavy work, but they rid the ship of much water. After that they +ate food, for it was now morning, and it came on to blow yet more +strongly. + +For three days and three nights it blew thus, and the Raven sped along +before the gale. All this time, turn and turn about, Eric and +Skallagrim stood at the helm and tended the sails. They had little time +to eat, and none to sleep. They were so hard pressed also, and must +harbour their strength so closely, that the bodies of the dead men yet +cumbered the hold. Thus they grew very weary and like to fall from +faintness, but still they held the Raven on her course. In the +beginning of the fourth night a great sea struck the good ship so that +she quivered from stem to stern. + +“Methinks I hear water bubbling up,” said Skallagrim in a hoarse voice. + +Eric climbed down into the well and lifted the bottom planks, and there +beneath them was a leak through which the water spouted in a thin +stream. He stopped up the rent as best he might with garments from the +dead men, and placed ballast stones upon them, then clambered on to the +deck again. + +“Our hours are short now,” he said, “the water rushes in apace.” + +“Well, it is time to rest,” said Skallagrim; “but see, lord!” and he +pointed ahead. “What land is that?” + +“It must be the Fareys,” answered Eric; “now, if we can but keep afloat +for three hours more, we may yet die ashore.” + +After this the wind began to fall, but still there was enough to drive +the Raven on swiftly. + +And ever the water gained in the hold. + +Now they were not far from land, for ahead of them the bleak hills +towered up, shining in the faint midnight light, and between the hills +was a cleft that seemed to be a fjord. Another hour passed, and they +were no more than ten furlongs from the mouth of the fjord, when +suddenly the wind fell, and they were in calm water under shelter of +the land. They went amidships and looked. The hold was half full of +water, and in it floated the bodies of Ospakar’s men. + +“She has not long to live,” said Skallagrim, “but we may still be saved +if the boat is not broken.” + +Now aft, near the tiller, a small boat was bound on the half deck of +the Raven. They went to it and looked; it was whole, with oars lashed +in it, but half full of water, which they must bail out. This they did +as swiftly as they might; then they cut the little boat loose, and, +having made it fast with a rope, lifted it over the side-rail and let +it fall into the sea, and that was no great way, for the Raven had sunk +deep. It fell on an even keel, and Eric let himself down the rope into +it and called to Skallagrim to follow. + +“Bide a while, lord,” he answered; “there is that which I would bring +with me.” + +For a space Eric waited and then called aloud, “Swift! thou fool; +swift! the ship sinks!” + +And as he called, Skallagrim came, and his arms were full of swords and +byrnies, and red rings of gold that he had found time to gather from +the dead and out of the cabin. + +“Throw all aside and come,” said Eric, laying on to the oars, for the +Raven wallowed before she sank. + +“There is yet time, lord, and the gear is good,” answered Skallagrim, +and one by one he threw pieces down into the boat. As the last fell the +Raven sank to her bulwarks. Then Skallagrim stepped from the sinking +deck into the boat, and cut the cord, not too soon. + +Eric gave way with all his strength, and, as he pulled, when he was no +more than five fathoms from her, the Raven vanished with a huge swirl. + +“Hold still,” he said, “or we shall follow.” + +Round spun the boat in the eddy, she was sucked down till the water +trickled over her gunwale, and for a moment they knew not if they were +lost or saved. Eric held his breath and watched, then slowly the boat +lifted her nose, and they were safe from the whirlpool of the lost +dragon. + +“Greed is many a man’s bane,” said Eric, “and it was nearly thine and +mine, Skallagrim.” + +“I had no heart to leave the good gear,” he answered; “and thou seest, +lord, it is safe and we with it.” + +Then they got the boat’s head round slowly into the mouth of the fjord, +pausing now and again to rest, for their strength was spent. For two +hours they rowed down a gulf, as it were, and on either side of them +were barren hills. At length the water-way opened out into a great +basin, and there, on the further side of the basin, they saw green +slopes running down to the water’s edge, strewn with white stock-fish +set to dry in the wind and sun, and above the slopes a large hall, and +about it booths. Moreover, they saw a long dragon of war at anchor near +the shore. For a while they rowed on, easing now and again. Then Eric +spoke to Skallagrim. + +“What thinkest thou of yonder ship, Lambstail?” + +“I think this, lord: that she is fashioned wondrous like to the +Gudruda.” + +“That is in my mind also,” said Eric, “and our fortune is good if it is +she.” + +They rowed on again, and presently a ray from the sun came over the +hills—for now it was three hours past midnight—and, the ship having +swung a little with the tide, lit upon her prow, and lo! there gleamed +the golden dragon of the Gudruda. + +“This is a strange thing,” said Eric. + +“Ay, lord, a strange and a merry, for now I shall talk with Hall the +mate,” and the Baresark smiled grimly. + +“Thou shalt do no hurt to Hall,” said Eric. “I am lord here, and I must +judge.” + +“Thy will is my will,” said Skallagrim; “but if my will were thine, he +would hang on the mast till sea-birds nested amidst his bones.” + +Now they were close to the ship, but they could see no man. Skallagrim +would have called aloud, but Eric bade him hold his peace. + +“Either they are dead, and thy calling cannot wake them, or perchance +they sleep and will wake of themselves. We will row under the stern, +and, having made fast, climb aboard and see with our own eyes.” + +This, then, they did as silently as might be, and saw that the Gudruda +had not been handled gently by the winds and waves, for her shield rail +was washed away. This they found also, that all men lay deep in sleep. +Now, amidships a fire still burned, and by it was food. They came there +and ate of the food, of which they had great need. Then they took two +cloaks that lay on the deck, and, throwing them about them, warmed +themselves over the fire: for they were cold and wet, ay, and utterly +outworn. + +As they sat thus warming themselves, a man of the crew awoke and saw +them, and being amazed, at once called to his fellows, saying that two +giants were aboard, warming themselves at the fire. Now men sprang up, +and, seizing their weapons, ran towards them, and among them was Hall +the mate. + +Then suddenly Eric Brighteyes and Skallagrim Lambstail threw aside the +cloaks and stood up. They were gaunt and grim to see. Their cheeks were +hollow and their eyes stared wide with want of sleep. Thick was their +harness with brine, and open wounds gaped upon their faces and their +hands. Men saw and fell back in fear, for they held them to be wizards +risen from the sea in the shapes of Eric and the Baresark. + +Then Eric sang this song: + +“Swift and sure across the Swan’s Bath +Sped Sea-stag on Raven’s track, +Heav’d Ran’s breast in raging billows, +Stream’d gale-banners through the sky! +Yet did Eric the war-eager +Leap with Baresark-mate aboard, +Fierce their onset on the foemen! +Wherefore brake the grapnel-chain?” + + +Hall heard and slunk back, for now he saw that these were indeed Eric +and Skallagrim come up alive from the sea, and that they knew his +baseness. + +Eric looked at him and sang again: + +“Swift away sped ship Gudruda, +Left her lord in foeman’s ring; +Brighteyes back to back with Baresark +Held his head ‘gainst mighty odds. +Down amidst the ballast tumbling, +Ospakar’s shield-carles were rolled. +Holy peace at length they handselled, +Eric must in bonds be laid! + +“Came the Grey Rat, came the Earl’s wife, +Came the witch-word from afar; +Cag’d wolves roused them, and with struggling +Tore their fetter from its hold. +Now they watch upon their weapons; +Now they weep and pray for life; +Now they leap forth like a torrent— +Swept away is foeman’s strength! + +“Then alone upon the Raven +Three long days they steer and sail, +Till the waters, welling upwards, +Wash dead men about their feet. +Fails the gale and sinks the dragon, +Barely may they win the boat: +Safe they stand on ship Gudruda— +Say, who cut the grapnel-chain?” + + + + +CHAPTER XV +HOW ERIC DWELT IN LONDON TOWN + + +Men stood astonished, but Hall the mate slunk back. + +“Hold, comrade,” said Eric, “I have something to say that songs cannot +carry. Hearken, my shield-mates: we swore to be true to each other, +even to death: is it not so? What then shall be said of that man who +cut loose the Gudruda and left us two to die at the foeman’s hand?” + +“Who was the man?” asked a voice. + +“That man was Hall of Lithdale,” said Eric. + +“It is false!” said Hall, gathering up his courage; “the cable parted +beneath the straining of the ship, and afterwards we could not put +about because of the great sea.” + +“Thou art false!” roared Skallagrim. “With my eyes I saw thee let thine +axe fall upon the cable. Liar art thou and dastard! Thou art jealous +also of Brighteyes thy lord, and this was in thy mind: to let him die +upon the Raven and then to bind his shoes upon thy cowardly feet. +Though none else saw, I saw; and I say this: that if I may have my +will, I will string thee, living, to the prow in that same cable till +gulls tear out thy fox-heart!” + +Now Hall grew very white and his knees trembled beneath him. “It is +true,” he said, “that I cut the chain, but not from any thought of +evil. Had I not cut it the vessel must have sunk and all been lost.” + +“Did we not swear, Hall,” said Eric sternly, “together to fight and +together to fall—together to fare and, if need be, together to cease +from faring, and dost thou read the oath thus? Say, mates, what reward +shall be paid to this man for his good fellowship to us and his +tenderness for your lives?” + +As with one voice the men answered “_Death!_” + +“Thou hearest, Hall?” said Eric. “Yet I would deal more gently with one +to whom I swore fellowship so lately. Get thee gone from our company, +and let us see thy cur’s face no more. Get thee gone, I say, before I +repent of my mercy.” + +Then amidst a loud hooting, Hall took his weapons and without a word +slunk into the boat of the Raven that lay astern, and rowed ashore; nor +did Eric see his face for many months. + +“Thou hast done foolishly, lord, to let that weasel go,” said +Skallagrim, “for he will live to nip thy hand.” + +“For good or evil, he is gone,” said Eric, “and now I am worn out and +desire to sleep.” + +After this Eric and Skallagrim rested three full days, and they were so +weary that they were awake for little of this time. But on the third +day they rose up, strong and well, except for their hurts and soreness. +Then they told the men of that which had come to pass, and all wondered +at their might and hardihood. To them indeed Eric seemed as a God, for +few such deeds as his had been told of since the God-kind were on +earth. + +But Brighteyes thought little of his deeds, and much of Gudruda. At +times also he thought of Swanhild, and of that witch-dream she sent +him: for it was wonderful to him that she should have saved him thus +from Ran’s net. + +Eric was heartily welcomed by the Earl of the Farey Isles, for, when he +heard his deeds, he made a feast in his honour, and set him in the high +seat. It was a great feast, but Skallagrim became drunk at it and ran +down the chamber, axe aloft, roaring for Hall of Lithdale. + +This angered Eric much and he would scarcely speak to Skallagrim for +many days, though the great Baresark slunk about after him like his +shadow, or a whipped hound at its master’s heel, and at length humbled +his pride so far as to ask pardon for his fault. + +“I grant it for thy deeds’ sake,” said Eric shortly; “but this is upon +my mind: that thou wilt err thus again, and it shall be my cause of +death—ay, and that of many more.” + +“First may my bones be white,” said Skallagrim. + +“They shall be white thereafter,” answered Eric. + +At Fareys Eric shipped twelve good men and true, to take the seats of +those who had been slain by Ospakar’s folk. Afterwards, when the +wounded were well of their hurts (except one man who died), and the +Gudruda was made fit to take the sea again, Brighteyes bade farewell to +the Earl of those Isles, who gave him a good cloak and a gold ring at +parting, and sailed away. + +Now it were too long to tell of all the deeds that Eric and his men +did. Never, so scalds sing, was there a viking like him for strength +and skill and hardihood, and, in those days, no such war-dragon as the +Gudruda had been known upon the sea. Wherever Eric joined battle, and +that was in many places, he conquered, for none prevailed against him, +till at last foes would fly before the terror of his name, and earls +and kings would send from far craving the aid of his hands. Withal he +was the best and gentlest of men. It is said of Eric that in all his +days he did no base deed, nor hurt the weak, nor refused peace to him +who prayed it, nor lifted sword against prisoner or wounded foe. From +traders he would take a toll of their merchandise only and let them go, +and whatever gains he won he would share equally, asking no larger part +than the meanest of his band. All men loved Eric, and even his foes +gave him honour and spoke well of him. Now that Hall of Lithdale was +gone, there was no man among his mates who would not have passed to +death for him, for they held him dearer than their lives. Women, too, +loved him much; but his heart was set upon Gudruda, and he seldom +turned to look on them. + +The first summer of his outlawry Eric warred along the coast of +Ireland, but in the winter he came to Dublin, and for a while served in +the body-guard of the king of that town, who held him in honour, and +would have had him stay there. But Eric would not bide there, and next +spring, the Gudruda being ready for sea, he sailed for the shores of +England. There he gave battle to two vikings’ ships of war, and took +them after a hard fight. It was in this fight that Skallagrim Lambstail +was wounded almost to death. For when, having taken one ship, Eric +boarded the other with but few men, he was driven back and fell over a +beam, and would have been slain, had not Skallagrim thrown himself +across his body, taking on his own back that blow of a battle-axe which +was aimed at Eric’s head. This was a great wound, for the axe shore +through the steel of the byrnie and sank into the flesh. But when +Eric’s men saw their lord down, and Skallagrim, as they deemed, dead +athwart him, they made so fierce a rush that the foemen fell before +them like leaves before a winter gale, and the end of it was that the +vikings prayed peace of Eric. Skallagrim lay sick for many days, but he +was hard to kill, and Eric nursed him back to life. After this these +two loved each other as brother loves twin brother, and they could +scarcely bear to be apart. But other people did not love Skallagrim, +nor he them. + +Eric sailed on up the Thames to London, bringing the viking ships with +him, and he delivered their captains bound to Edmund, Edward’s son, the +king who was called Edmund the Magnificent. These captains the King +hung, for they had wrought damage to his ships. + +Eric found much favour with the King, and, indeed, his fame had gone +before him. So when he came into the court, bravely clad, with +Skallagrim at his back, who was now almost recovered of his wound, the +King called out to him to draw near, saying that he desired to look on +the bravest viking and most beauteous man who sailed the seas, and on +that fierce Baresark whom men called “Eric’s Death-shadow.” + +So Eric came forward up the long hall that was adorned with things more +splendid than ever his eyes had seen, and stood before the King. With +him came Skallagrim, driving the two captive viking chiefs before him +with his axe, as a flesher drives lambs. Now, during these many months +Brighteyes had grown yet more great in girth and glorious to look on +than he was before. Moreover, his hair was now so long that it flowed +like a flood of gold down towards his girdle, for since Gudruda trimmed +it no shears had come near his head, and his locks grew fast as a +woman’s. The King looked at him and was astonished. + +“Of a truth,” he said, “men have not lied about thee, Icelander, nor +concerning that great wolf-hound of thine,” and he pointed at +Skallagrim with his sword of state. “Never saw I such a man;” and he +bade all the mightiest men of his body-guard stand forward that he +might measure them against Eric. But Brighteyes was an inch taller than +the tallest, and measured half a span more round the chest than the +biggest. + +“What wouldest thou of me, Icelander?” asked the King. + +“This, lord,” said Eric: “to serve thee a while, and all my men with +me.” + +“That is an offer that few would turn from,” answered the King. “Thou +shalt go into my body-guard, and, if I have my will, thou shalt be near +me in battle, and thy wolf-dog also.” + +Eric said that he asked no better, and thereafter he went up with +Edmund the King to make war on the Danes of Mercia, and he and +Skallagrim did great deeds before the eyes of the Englishmen. + +That winter Eric and his company came back to London, and abode with +the King in much state and honour. Now, there was a certain lady of the +court named Elfrida. She was both fair and wealthy, the sweetest of +women, and of royal blood by her mother’s side. So soon as her eyes +fell on Eric she loved him, and no one thing did she desire more than +to be his wife. But Brighteyes kept aloof from her, for he loved +Gudruda alone; and so the winter wore away, and in the spring he went +away warring, nor did he come back till autumn was at hand. + +The Lady Elfrida sat at a window when Eric rode through London Town in +the King’s following, and as he passed she threw him a wreath of +flowers. The King saw it and laughed. + +“My cold kinswoman seems to melt before those bright eyes of thine, +Icelander,” he said, “as my foes melt before Whitefire’s flame. Well, I +could wish her a worse mate,” and he looked on him strangely. + +Eric bowed, but made no answer. + +That night, as they sat at meat in the palace, the Lady Elfrida, being +bidden in jest of Edmund the King to fill the cup of the bravest, +passed down the board, and, before all men, poured wine into Eric’s +cup, and, as she did so, welcomed him back with short sweet words. + +Eric grew red as dawn, and thanked her graciously; but after the feast +he spoke with Skallagrim, asking him of the Gudruda, and when she could +be ready to take the sea. + +“In ten days, lord,” said Skallagrim; “but stay we not here with the +King this winter? It is late to sail.” + +“Nay,” said Eric, “we bide not here. I would winter this year in +Fareys, for they are the nighest place to Iceland that I may reach. +Next summer my three years of outlawry are over, and I would fare back +homewards.” + +“Now, I see the shadow of a woman’s hand,” said Skallagrim. “It is very +late to face the northern seas, and we may sail to Iceland from London +in the spring.” + +“It is my will that we should sail,” answered Eric. + +“Past Orkneys runs the road to Fareys,” said Skallagrim, “and in +Orkneys sits a hawk to whom the Lady Elfrida is but a dove. In faring +from ill we may hap on worse.” + +“It is my will that we sail,” said Eric stubbornly. + +“As thou wilt, and as the King wills,” answered Skallagrim. + +On the morrow Eric went in before the King, and craved a boon. + +“There is little that thou canst ask, Brighteyes,” said the King, “that +I will not give thee, for, by my troth, I hold thee dear.” + +“I am come back to seek no great thing, lord,” answered Eric, “but this +only: leave to bid thee farewell. I would wend homeward.” + +“Say, Eric,” said the King, “have I not dealt well with thee?” + +“Well, and overwell, lord.” + +“Why, then, wouldst thou leave me? I have this in my mind—to bring thee +to great honour. See, now, there is a fair lady in this court, and in +her veins runs blood that even an Iceland viking might be proud to mate +with. She has great lands, and, mayhap, she shall have more. Canst thou +not find a home on them, thinkest thou, Brighteyes?” + +“In Iceland only I am at home, lord,” said Eric. + +Then the King was wroth, and bade him begone when it pleased him, and +Eric bowed before him and went out. + +Two days afterwards, while Eric was walking in the Palace gardens he +met the Lady Elfrida face to face. She held white flowers in her hand, +and she was fair to see and pale as the flowers she bore. + +He greeted her, and, after a while, she spoke to him in a gentle voice: +“They say that thou goest from England, Brighteyes?” she said. + +“Yes, lady; I go,” he answered. + +She looked on him once and twice and then burst out weeping. “Why goest +thou hence to that cold land of thine?” she sobbed—“that hateful land +of snow and ice! Is not England good enough for thee?” + +“I am at home there, lady, and there my mother waits me.” + +“‘There thy mother waits thee,’ Eric?—say, does a maid called Gudruda +the Fair wait thee there also?” + +“There is such a maid in Iceland,” said Eric. + +“Yes; I know it—I know it all,” she answered, drying her tears, and of +a sudden growing cold and proud; “Eric, thou art betrothed to this +Gudruda; and, for thy welfare, somewhat overfaithful to thy troth. For +hearken, Eric Brighteyes. I know this: that little luck shall come to +thee from the maid Gudruda. It would become me ill to say more; +nevertheless, this is true—that here, in England, good fortune waits +thy hand, and there in Iceland such fortune as men mete to their foes. +Knowest thou this?” + +Eric looked at her and answered: “Lady,” he said, “men are not born of +their own will, they live and do little that they will, they do and go, +perchance, whither they would not. Yet it may happen to a man that one +meets him whose hand he fain would hold, if it be but for an hour’s +travel over icy ways; and it is better to hold that hand for this short +hour than to wend his life through at a stranger’s side.” + +“Perhaps there is wisdom in thy folly,” said the Lady Elfrida. “Still, +I tell thee this: that no good luck waits thee there in Iceland.” + +“It well may be,” said Eric: “my days have been stormy, and the gale is +still brewing. But it is a poor heart that fears the storm. Better to +sink; for, coward or hero, all must sink at last.” + +“Say, Eric,” said the lady, “if that hand thou dost desire to hold is +lost to thee, what then?” + +“If that hand is cold in death, then henceforth I wend my ways alone.” + +“And if it be held of another hand than thine?” + +“Then I will journey back to England, lady, and here in this fair +garden I may crave speech of thee again.” + +They looked one on another. “Fare thee well, Eric!” said the Lady +Elfrida. “Here in this garden we may talk again; and, if we talk no +more—why, fare thee well! Days come and go; the swallow takes flight at +winter, and lo! at spring it twitters round the eaves. And if it come +not again, then farewell to that swallow. The world is a great house, +Eric, and there is room for many swallows. But alas! for her who is +left desolate—alas, alas!” And she turned and went. + +It is told of this lady Elfrida that she became very wealthy and was +much honoured for her gentleness and wisdom, and that, when she was +old, she built a great church and named it Ericskirk. It is also told +that, though many sought her in marriage, she wedded none. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI +HOW SWANHILD WALKED THE SEAS + + +Within two days afterwards, the Gudruda being bound for sea, Eric went +up to bid farewell to the King. But Edmund was so angry with him +because of his going that he would not see him. Thereon Eric took horse +and rode down sadly from the Palace to the river-bank where the Gudruda +lay. But when he was about to give the word to get out the oars, the +King himself rode up, and with him men bearing costly gifts. Eric went +ashore to speak with him. + +“I am angry with thee, Brighteyes,” said Edmund, “yet it is not in my +heart to let thee go without words and gifts of farewell. This only I +ask of thee now, that, if things go not well with thee there, out in +Iceland, thou wilt come back to me.” + +“I will—that I promise thee, King,” said Eric, “for I shall never find +a better lord.” + +“Nor I a braver servant,” said the King. Then he gave him the gifts and +kissed him before all men. To Skallagrim also he gave a good byrnie of +Welsh steel coloured black. + +Then Eric went aboard again and dropped down the river with the tide. + +For five days all went well with them, the sea being calm and the winds +light and favourable. But on the fifth night, as they sailed slowly +along the coasts of East Anglia over against Yarmouth sands, the moon +rose red and ringed and the sea fell dead calm. + +“Yonder hangs a storm-lamp, lord,” said Skallagrim, pointing to the +angry moon. “We shall soon be bailing, for the autumn gales draw near.” + +“Wait till they come, then speak,” said Eric. “Thou croakest ever like +a raven.” + +“And ravens croak before foul weather,” answered Skallagrim, and just +as he spoke a sudden gust of wind came up from the south-east and laid +the Gudruda over. After this it came on to blow, and so fiercely that +for whole days and nights their clothes were scarcely dry. They ran +northwards before the storm and still northward, sighting no land and +seeing no stars. And ever as they scudded on the gale grew fiercer, +till at length the men were worn out with bailing and starved with wet +and cold. Three of their number also were washed away by the seas, and +all were in sorry plight. + +It was the fourth night of the gale. Eric stood at the helm, and by him +Skallagrim. They were alone, for their comrades were spent and lay +beneath decks, waiting for death. The ship was half full of water, but +they had no more strength to bail. Eric seemed grim and gaunt in the +white light of the moon, and his long hair streamed about him wildly. +Grimmer yet was Skallagrim as he clung to the shield-rail and stared +across the deep. + +“She rolls heavily, lord,” he shouted, “and the water gains fast.” + +“Can the men bail no more?” asked Eric. + +“Nay, they are outworn and wait for death.” + +“They need not wait long,” said Eric. “What do they say of me?” + +“Nothing.” + +Then Eric groaned aloud. “It was my stubbornness that brought us to +this pass,” he said; “I care little for myself, but it is ill that all +should die for one man’s folly.” + +“Grieve not, lord,” answered Skallagrim, “that is the world’s way, and +there are worse things than to drown. Listen! methinks I hear the roar +of breakers yonder,” and he pointed to the left. + +“Breakers they surely are,” said Eric. “Now the end is near. But see, +is not that land looming up on the right, or is it cloud?” + +“It is land,” said Skallagrim, “and I am sure of this, that we run into +a firth. Look, the seas boil like a hot spring. Hold on thy course, +lord, perchance we may yet steer between rocks and land. Already the +wind falls and the current lessens the seas.” + +“Ay,” said Eric, “already the fog and rain come up,” and he pointed +ahead where dense clouds gathered in the shape of a giant, whose head +reached to the skies and moved towards them, hiding the moon. + +Skallagrim looked, then spoke: “Now here, it seems, is witchwork. Say, +lord, hast thou ever seen mist travel against wind as it travels now?” + +“Never before,” said Eric, and as he spoke the light of the moon went +out. + +Swanhild, Atli’s wife, sat in beauty in her bower on Straumey Isle and +looked with wide eyes towards the sea. It was midnight. None stirred in +Atli’s hall, but still Swanhild looked out towards the sea. + +Now she turned and spoke into the darkness, for there was no light in +the bower save the light of her great eyes. + +“Art thou there?” she said. “I have summoned thee thrice in the words +thou knowest. Say, Toad, art there?” + +“Ay, Swanhild the Fatherless! Swanhild, Groa’s daughter! Witch-mother’s +witch-child! I am here. What is thy will with me?” piped a thin voice +like the voice of a dying babe. + +Swanhild shuddered a little and her eyes grew brighter—as bright as the +eyes of a cat. + +“This first,” she said: “that thou show thyself. Hideous as thou art, I +had rather see thee, than speak with thee seeing thee not.” + +“Mock not my form, lady,” answered the thin voice, “for it is as thou +dost fashion it in thy thought. To the good I am fair as day; to the +evil, foul as their heart. _Toad_ thou didst call me: look, now I come +as a toad!” + +Swanhild looked, and behold! a ring of the darkness grew white with +light, and in it crouched a thing hideous to see. It was shaped as a +great spotted toad, and on it was set a hag’s face, with white locks +hanging down on either side. Its eyes were blood-red and sunken, black +were its fangs, and its skin was dead yellow. It grinned horribly as +Swanhild shrank from it, then spoke again: + +“_Grey Wolf_ thou didst call me once, Swanhild, when thou wouldst have +thrust Gudruda down Goldfoss gulf, and as a grey wolf I came, and gave +thee counsel that thou tookest but ill. _Rat_ didst thou call me once, +when thou wouldst save Brighteyes from the carles of Ospakar, and as a +rat I came and in thy shape I walked the seas. _Toad_ thou callest me +now, and as a toad I creep about thy feet. Name thy will, Swanhild, and +I will name my price. But be swift, for there are other fair ladies +whose wish I must do ere dawn.” + +“Thou art hideous to look on!” said Swanhild, placing her hand before +her eyes. + +“Say not so, lady; say not so. Look at this face of mine. Knowest thou +it not? It is thy mother’s—dead Groa lent it me. I took it from where +she lies; and my toad’s skin I drew from thy spotted heart, Swanhild, +and more hideous than I am shalt thou be in a day to come, as once I +was more fair than thou art to-day.” + +Swanhild opened her lips to shriek, but no sound came. + +“Troll,” she whispered, “mock me not with lies, but hearken to my +bidding: where sails Eric now?” + +“Look out into the night, lady, and thou shalt see.” + +Swanhild looked, and the ways of the darkness opened before her +witch-sight. There at the mouth of Pentland Firth the Gudruda laboured +heavily in the great seas, and by the tiller stood Eric, and with him +Skallagrim. + +“Seest thou thy love?” asked the Familiar. + +“Yea,” she answered, “full clearly; he is worn with wind and sea, but +more glorious than aforetime, and his hair is long. Say, what shall +befall him if thou aidest not?” + +“This, that he shall safely pass the Firth, for the gale falls, and +come safely to Fareys, and from Fareys isles to Gudruda’s arms.” + +“And what canst thou do, Goblin?” + +“This: I can lure Eric’s ship to wreck, and give his comrades, all save +Skallagrim, to Ran’s net, and bring him to thy arms, Swanhild, +witch-mother’s witch-child!” + +She hearkened. Her breast heaved and her eyes flashed. + +“And thy price, Toad?” + +“_Thou_ art the price, lady,” piped the goblin. “Thou shalt give +thyself to me when thy day is done, and merrily will we sisters dwell +in Hela’s halls, and merrily for ever will we fare about the earth o’ +nights, doing such tasks as this task of thine, Swanhild, and working +wicked woe till the last woe is worked on us. Art thou content?” + +Swanhild thought. Twice her breath went from her lips in great sighs. +Then she stood, pale and silent. + +“Safely shall he sail the Firth,” piped the thin voice. “Safely shall +he sit in Fareys. Safely shall he lie in white Gudruda’s arms—_hee! +hee!_ Think of it, lady!” + +Then Swanhild shook like a birth-tree in the gale, and her face grew +ashen. + +“I am content,” she said. + +“_Hee! hee!_ Brave lady! She is content! Ah, we sisters shall be merry. +Hearken: if I aid thee thus I may do no more. Thrice has the night-owl +come at thy call—now it must wing away. Yet things will be as I have +said; thine own wisdom shall guide the rest. Ere morn Brighteyes shall +stand in Atli’s hall, ere spring he will be thy love, and ere autumn +Gudruda shall sit on the high seat in the hall of Middalhof the bride +of Ospakar. Draw nigh, give me thine arm, sister, that blood may seal +our bargain.” + +Swanhild drew near the toad, and, shuddering, stretched out her arm, +and then and there the red blood ran, and there they sealed their +sisterhood. And as the nameless deed was wrought, it seemed to Swanhild +as though fire shot through her veins, and fire surged before her eyes, +and in the fire a shape passed up weeping. + +“It is done, Blood-sister,” piped the voice; “now I must away in thy +form to be about thy tasks. Seat thee here before me—so. Now lay thy +brow upon my brow—fear not, it was thy mother’s—life on death! curling +locks on corpse hair! See, so we change—we change. Now thou art the +Death-toad and I am Swanhild, Atli’s wife, who shall be Eric’s love.” + +Then Swanhild knew that her beauty had entered into the foulness of the +toad, and the foulness of the toad into her beauty, for there before +her stood her own shape and here she crouched a toad upon the floor. + +“Away to work, away!” said a soft low voice, her own voice speaking +from her own body that stood before her, and lo! it was gone. + +But Swanhild crouched, in the shape of a hag-headed toad, upon the +ground in her bower of Atli’s hall, and felt wickedness and evil +longings and hate boil and seethe within her heart. She looked out +through her sunken horny eyes and she seemed to see strange sights. She +saw Atli, her lord, dead upon the grass. She saw a woman asleep, and +above her flashed a sword. She saw the hall of Middalhof red with +blood. She saw a great gulf in a mountain’s heart, and men fell down +it. And, last, she saw a war-ship sailing fast out on the sea, afire, +and vanish there. + +Now the witch-hag who wore Swanhild’s loveliness stood upon the cliffs +of Straumey and tossed her white arms towards the north. + +“Come, fog! come, sleet!” she cried. “Come, fog! come, sleet! Put out +the moon and blind the eyes of Eric!” And as she called, the fog rose +up like a giant and stretched his arms from shore to shore. + +“Move, fog! beat, rain!” she cried. “Move and beat against the gale, +and blind the eyes of Eric!” + +And the fog moved on against the wind, and with it sleet and rain. + +“Now I am afeared,” said Eric to Skallagrim, as they stood in darkness +upon the ship: “the gale blows from behind us, and yet the mist drives +fast in our faces. What comes now?” + +“This is witch-work, lord,” answered Skallagrim, “and in such things no +counsel can avail. Hold the tiller straight and drive on, say I. +Methinks the gale lessens more and more.” + +So they did for a little while, and all around them sounded the roar of +breakers. Darker grew the sky and darker yet, till at the last, though +they stood side by side, they could not see each other’s shapes. + +“This is strange sailing,” said Eric. “I hear the roar of breakers as +it were beneath the prow.” + +“Lash the helm, lord, and let us go forward. If there are breakers, +perhaps we shall see their foam through the blackness,” said +Skallagrim. + +Eric did so, and they crept forward on the starboard board right to the +prow of the ship, and there Skallagrim peered into the fog and sleet. + +“Lord,” he whispered presently, and his voice shook strangely, “what is +that yonder on the waters? Seest thou aught?” + +Eric stared and said, “By Odin! I see a shape of light like to the +shape of a woman; it walks upon the waters towards us and the mist +melts before it, and the sea grows calm beneath its feet.” + +“I see that also!” said Skallagrim. + +“She comes nigh!” gasped Eric. “See how swift she comes! By the dead, +it is Swanhild’s shape! Look, Skallagrim! look how her eyes flame!—look +how her hair streams upon the wind!” + +“It is Swanhild, and we are fey!” quoth Skallagrim, and they ran back +to the helm, where Skallagrim sank upon the deck in fear. + +“See, Skallagrim, she glides before the Gudruda’s beak! she glides +backwards and she points yonder—there to the right! Shall I put the +helm down and follow her?” + +“Nay, lord, nay; set no faith in witchcraft or evil will befall us.” + +As he spoke a great gust of wind shook the ship, the music of the +breakers roared in their ears, and the gleaming shape upon the waters +tossed its arms wildly and pointed to the right. + +“The breakers call ahead,” said Eric. “The shape points yonder, where I +hear no sound of sea. Once before, thou mindest, Swanhild walked the +waves to warn us and thereby saved us from the men of Ospakar. Ever she +swore she loved me; now she is surely come in love to save us and all +our comrades. Say, shall I put about? Look: once more she waves her +arms and points,” and as he spoke he gripped the helm. + +“I have no rede, lord,” said Skallagrim, “and I love not witch-work. We +can die but once, and death is all around; be it as thou wilt.” + +Eric put down the helm with all his might. The good ship answered, and +her timbers groaned loudly, as though in woe, when the strain of the +sea struck her abeam. Then once more she flew fast across the waters, +and fast before her glided the wraith of Swanhild. Now it pointed here +and now there, and as it pointed so Eric shaped his course. For a while +the noise of breakers lessened, but now again came a thunder, like the +thunder of waves smiting on a cliff, and about the sides of the Gudruda +the waves hissed like snakes. + +Suddenly the Shape threw up its arms and seemed to sink beneath the +waves, while a sound like the sound of a great laugh went up from sea +to sky. + +“Now here is the end,” said Skallagrim, “and we are lured to doom.” + +Ere ever the words had passed his lips the ship struck, and so fiercely +that they were rolled upon the deck. Suddenly the sky grew clear, the +moon shone out, and before them were cliffs and rocks, and behind them +a great wave rushed on. From the hold of the ship there came a cry, for +now their comrades were awake and they knew that death was here. + +Eric gripped Skallagrim round the middle and looked aft. On rushed the +wave, no such wave had he ever seen. Now it struck and the Gudruda +burst asunder beneath the blow. + +But Eric Brighteyes and Skallagrim Lambstail were lifted on its crest +and knew no more. + +Swanhild, crouching in hideous guise upon the ground in the bower of +Atli’s hall, looked upon the visions that passed before her. Suddenly a +woman’s shape, her own shape, was there. + +“It is done, Blood-sister,” said a voice, her own voice. “Merrily I +walked the waves, and oh, merry was the cry of Eric’s folk when Ran +caught them in her net! Be thyself, again, Blood-sister—be fair as thou +art foul; then arise, wake Atli thy lord, and go down to the sea’s lip +by the southern cliffs and see what thou shalt find. We shall meet no +more till all this game is played and another game is set,” and the +shape of Swanhild crouched upon the floor before the hag-headed toad +muttering “Pass! pass!” + +Then Swanhild felt her flesh come back to her, and as it grew upon her +so the shape of the Death-headed toad faded away. + +“Farewell, Blood-sister!” piped a voice; “make merry as thou mayest, +but merrier shall be our nights when thou hast gone a-sailing with Eric +on the sea. Farewell! farewell! _Were-wolf_ thou didst call me once, +and as a wolf I came. _Rat_ thou didst call me once, and as a rat I +came. _Toad_ didst thou call me once, and as a toad I came. Say, at the +last, what wilt thou call me and in what shape shall I come, +Blood-sister? Till then farewell!” + +And all was gone and all was still. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII +HOW ASMUND THE PRIEST WEDDED UNNA, THOROD’S DAUGHTER + + +Now the story goes back to Iceland. + +When Brighteyes was gone, for a while Gudruda the Fair moved sadly +about the stead, like one new-widowed. Then came tidings. Men told how +Ospakar Blacktooth had waylaid Eric on the seas with two long ships, +dragons of war, and how Eric had given him battle and sunk one dragon +with great loss to Ospakar. They told also how Blacktooth’s other +dragon, the Raven, had sailed away before the wind, and Eric had sailed +after it in a rising gale. But of what befell these ships no news came +for many a month, and it was rumoured that this had befallen them—that +both had sunk in the gale, and that Eric was dead. + +But Gudruda would not believe this. When Asmund the Priest, her father, +asked her why she did not believe it, she answered that, had Eric been +dead, her heart would surely have spoken to her of it. To this Asmund +said that it might be so. + +Hay-harvest being done, Asmund made ready for his wedding with Unna, +Thorod’s daughter and Eric’s cousin. + +Now it was agreed that the marriage-feast should be held at Middalhof; +for Asmund wished to ask a great company to the wedding, and there was +no place at Coldback to hold so many. Also some of the kin of Thorod, +Unna’s father, were bidden to the feast from the east and north. At +length all was prepared and the guests came in great companies, for no +such feast had been made in this quarter for many years. + +On the eve of the marriage Asmund spoke with Groa. The witch-wife had +borne herself humbly since she was recovered from her sickness. She +passed about the stead like a rat at night, speaking few words and with +downcast eyes. She was busy also making all things ready for the +feasting. + +Now as Asmund went up the hall seeing that everything was in order, +Groa drew near to him and touched him gently on the shoulder. + +“Are things to thy mind, lord?” she said. + +“Yes, Groa,” he answered, “more to my mind than to thine I fear.” + +“Fear not, lord; thy will is my will.” + +“Say, Groa, is it thy wish to bide here in Middalhof when Unna is my +housewife?” + +“It is my wish to serve thee as aforetime,” she answered softly, “if so +be that Unna wills it.” + +“That is her desire,” said Asmund and went his ways. + +But Groa stood looking after him and her face was fierce and evil. + +“While bane has virtue, while runes have power, and while hand has +cunning, never, Unna, shalt thou take my place at Asmund’s side! Out of +the water I came to thee, Asmund; into the water I go again. Unquiet +shall I lie there—unquiet shall I wend through Hela’s halls; but Unna +shall rest at Asmund’s side—in Asmund’s cairn!” + +Then again she moved about the hall, making all things ready for the +feast. But at midnight, when the light was low and folk slept, Groa +rose, and, veiled in a black robe, with a basket in her hand, passed +like a shadow through the hall out upon the meads. Thence she glided +into the mists that hang about the river’s edge, and in silence, always +looking behind her, like one who fears a hidden foe, culled flowers of +noisome plants that grow in the marsh. Her basket being filled, she +passed round the stead to a hidden dell upon the mountain side. Here a +man stood waiting, and near him burned a fire of turf. In his hand he +held an iron-pot. It was Koll the Half-witted, Groa’s thrall. + +“Are all things ready, Koll?” she said. + +“Yes,” he answered; “but I like not these tasks of thine, mistress. Say +now, what wouldst thou do with the fire and the pot?” + +“This, then, Koll. I would brew a love-potion for Asmund the Priest as +he has bidden me to do.” + +“I have done many an ill deed for thee, mistress, but of all of them I +love this the least,” said the thrall, doubtfully. + +“I have done many a good deed for thee, Koll. It was I who saved thee +from the Doom-stone, seeming to prove thee innocent—ay, even when thy +back was stretched on it, because thou hadst slain a man in his sleep. +Is it not so?” + +“Yea, mistress.” + +“And yet thou wast guilty, Koll. And I have given thee many good gifts, +is it not so?” + +“Yes, it is so.” + +“Listen then: serve me this once and I will give thee one last gift—thy +freedom, and with it two hundred in silver.” + +Koll’s eyes glistened. “What must I do, mistress?” + +“To-day at the wedding-feast it will be thy part to pour the cups while +Asmund calls the toasts. Last of all, when men are merry, thou wilt mix +that cup in which Asmund shall pledge Unna his wife and Unna must +pledge Asmund. Now, when thou hast poured, thou shalt pass the cup to +me, as I stand at the foot of the high seat, waiting to give the bride +greeting on behalf of the serving-women of the household. Thou shalt +hand the cup to me as though in error, and that is but a little thing +to ask of thee.” + +“A little thing indeed,” said Koll, staring at her, and pulling with +his hand at his red hair, “yet I like it not. What if I say no, +mistress?” + +“Say no or speak of this and I will promise thee one thing only, thou +knave, and it is, before winter comes, that the crows shall pick thy +bones! Now, brave me, if thou darest,” and straightway Groa began to +mutter some witch-words. + +“Nay,” said Koll, holding up his hand as though to ward away a blow. +“Curse me not: I will do as thou wilt. But when shall I touch the two +hundred in silver?” + +“I will give thee half before the feast begins, and half when it is +ended, and with it freedom to go where thou wilt. And now leave me, and +on thy life see that thou fail me not.” + +“I have never failed thee yet,” said Koll, and went his ways. + +Now Groa set the pot upon the fire, and, placing in it the herbs that +she had gathered, poured water on them. Presently they began to boil +and as they boiled she stirred them with a peeled stick and muttered +spells over them. For long she sat in that dim and lonely place +stirring the pot and muttering spells, till at length the brew was +done. + +She lifted the pot from the fire and smelt at it. Then drawing a phial +from her robe she poured out the liquor and held it to the sky. The +witch-water was white as milk, but presently it grew clear. She looked +at it, then smiled evilly. + +“Here is a love-draught for a queen—ah, a love-draught for a queen!” +she said, and, still smiling, she placed the phial in her breast. + +Then, having scattered the fire with her foot, Groa took the pot and +threw it into a deep pool of water, where it could not be found +readily, and crept back to the stead before men were awake. + +Now the day wore on and all the company were gathered at the +marriage-feast to the number of nearly two hundred. Unna sat in the +high seat, and men thought her a bonny bride, and by her side sat +Asmund the Priest. He was a hale, strong man to look on, though he had +seen some three-score winters; but his mien was sad, and his heart +heavy. He drank cup after cup to cheer him, but all without avail. For +his thought sped back across the years and once more he seemed to see +the face of Gudruda the Gentle as she lay dying, and to hear her voice +when she foretold evil to him if he had aught to do with Groa the +Witch-wife. And now it seemed to him that the evil was at hand, though +whence it should come he knew not. He looked up. There Groa moved along +the hall, ministering to the guests; but he saw as she moved that her +eyes were always fixed, now on him and now on Unna. He remembered that +curse also which Groa had called down upon him when he had told her +that he was betrothed to Unna, and his heart grew cold with fear. “Now +I will change my counsel,” Asmund said to himself: “Groa shall not stay +here in this stead, for I will look no longer on that dark face of +hers. She goes hence to-morrow.” + +Not far from Asmund sat Björn, his son. As Gudruda the Fair, his +sister, brought him mead he caught her by the sleeve, whispering in her +ear. “Methinks our father is sad. What weighs upon his heart?” + +“I know not,” said Gudruda, but as she spoke she looked first on +Asmund, then at Groa. + +“It is ill that Groa should stop here,” whispered Björn again. + +“It is ill,” answered Gudruda, and glided away. + +Asmund saw their talk and guessed its purport. Rousing himself he +laughed aloud and called to Koll the Half-witted to pour the cups that +he might name the toasts. + +Koll filled, and, as Asmund called the toasts one by one, Koll handed +the cups to him. Asmund drank deep of each, till at length his sorrow +passed from him, and, together with all who sat there, he grew merry. + +Last of all came the toast of the bride’s cup. But before Asmund called +it, the women of the household drew near the high seat to welcome Unna, +when she should have drunk. Gudruda stood foremost, and Groa was next +to her. + +Now Koll filled as before, and it was a great cup of gold that he +filled. + +Asmund rose to call the toast, and with him all who were in the hall. +Koll brought up the cup, and handed it, not to Asmund, but to Groa; but +there were few who noted this, for all were listening to Asmund’s toast +and most of the guests were somewhat drunken. + +“The cup,” cried Asmund—“give me the cup that I may drink.” + +Then Groa started forward, and as she did so she seemed to stumble, so +that for a moment her robe covered up the great bride-cup. Then she +gathered herself together slowly, and, smiling, passed up the cup. + +Asmund lifted it to his lips and drank deep. Then he turned and gave it +to Unna his wife, but before she drank he kissed her on the lips. + +Now while all men shouted such a welcome that the hall shook, and as +Unna, smiling, drank from the cup, the eyes of Asmund fell upon Groa +who stood beneath him, and lo! her eyes seemed to flame and her face +was hideous as the face of a troll. + +Asmund grew white and put his hand to his head, as though to think, +then cried aloud: + +“Drink not, Unna! the draught is drugged!” and he struck at the vessel +with his hand. + +He smote it indeed, and so hard that it flew from her hand far down the +hall. + +But Unna had already drunk deep. + +“The draught is drugged!” Asmund cried, and pointed to Groa, while all +men stood silent, not knowing what to do. + +“The draught is drugged!” he cried a third time, “and that witch has +drugged it!” And he began to tear at his breast. + +Then Groa laughed so shrilly that men trembled to hear her. + +“Yes, lord,” she screamed, “the draught is drugged, and Groa the +Witch-wife hath drugged it! Ay, tear thy heart out, Asmund, and Unna, +grow thou white as snow—soon, if my medicine has virtue, thou shalt be +whiter yet! Hearken all men. Asmund the Priest is Swanhild’s father, +and for many a year I have been Asmund’s mate. What did I tell thee, +lord?—that I would see the two of you dead ere Unna should take my +place!—ay, and on Gudruda the Fair, thy daughter, and Björn thy son, +and Eric Brighteyes, Gudruda’s love, and many another man—on them too +shall my curse fall! Tear thy heart out, Asmund! Unna, grow thou white +as snow! The draught is drugged and Groa, Ran’s gift! Groa the +Witch-Wife! Groa, Asmund’s love! hath drugged it!” + +And ere ever a man might lift a hand to stay her Groa glided past the +high seat and was gone. + +For a space all stood silent. Asmund ceased clutching at his breast. +Rising he spoke heavily: + +“Now I learn that sin is a stone to smite him who hurled it. Gudruda +the Gentle spoke sooth when she warned me against this woman. _New wed, +new dead!_ Unna, fare thee well!” + +And straightway Asmund fell down and died there by the high seat in his +own hall. + +Unna gazed at him with ashen face. Then, plucking at her bosom she +sprang from the dais and rushed along the hall, screaming. Men made way +for her, and at the door she also fell dead. + +This then was the end of Asmund Asmundson the Priest, and Unna, +Thorod’s daughter, Eric’s cousin, his new-made wife. + +For a moment there was silence in the hall. But before the echoes of +Unna’s screams had died away, Björn cried aloud: + +“The witch! where is the witch?” + +Then with a yell of rage, men leaped to their feet, seizing their +weapons, and rushed from the stead. Out they ran. There, on the +hill-side far above them, a black shape climbed and leapt swiftly. They +gave tongue like dogs set upon a wolf and sped up the hill. + +They gained the crest of the hill, and now they were at Goldfoss brink. +Lo! the witch-wife had crossed the bed of the torrent, for little rain +had fallen and the river was low. She stood on Sheep-saddle, the water +running from her robes. On Sheep-saddle she stood and cursed them. + +Björn took a bow and set a shaft upon the string. He drew it and the +arrow sung through the air and smote her, speeding through her heart. +With a cry Groa threw up her arms. + +Then down she plunged. She fell on Wolf’s Fang, where Eric once had +stood and, bouncing thence, rushed to the boiling deeps below and was +no more seen for ever. + +Thus, then, did Asmund the Priest wed Unna, Thorod’s daughter, and this +was the end of the feasting. + +Thereafter Björn, Asmund’s son, ruled at Middalhof, and was Priest in +his place. He sought for Koll the Half-witted to kill him, but Koll +took the fells, and after many months he found passage in a ship that +was bound for Scotland. + +Now Björn was a hard man and a greedy. He was no friend to Eric +Brighteyes, and always pressed it on Gudruda that she should wed +Ospakar Blacktooth. But to this counsel Gudruda would not listen, for +day and night she thought upon her love. Next summer there came tidings +that Eric was safe in Ireland, and men spoke of his deeds, and of how +he and Skallagrim had swept the ship of Ospakar single-handed. Now +after these tidings, for a while Gudruda walked singing through the +meads, and no flower that grew in them was half so fair as she. + +That summer also Ospakar Blacktooth met Björn, Asmund’s son, at the +Thing, and they talked much together in secret. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII +HOW EARL ATLI FOUND ERIC AND SKALLAGRIM ON THE SOUTHERN ROCKS OF +STRAUMEY ISLE + + +Swanhild, robed in white, as though new risen from sleep, stood, candle +in hand, by the bed of Atli the Earl, her lord, crying “Awake!” + +“What passes now?” said Atli, lifting himself upon his arm. “What +passes, Swanhild, and why dost thou ever wander alone at nights, +looking so strangely? I love not thy dark witch-ways, Swanhild, and I +was wed to thee in an ill hour, wife who art no wife.” + +“In an ill hour indeed, Earl Atli,” she answered, “an ill hour for thee +and me, for, as thou hast said, eld and youth are strange yokefellows +and pull different paths. Arise now, Earl, for I have dreamed a dream.” + +“Tell it to me on the morrow, then,” quoth Atli; “there is small +joyousness in thy dreams, that always point to evil, and I must bear +enough evil of late.” + +“Nay, lord, my rede may not be put aside so. Listen now: I have dreamed +that a great dragon of war has been cast away upon Straumey’s +south-western rocks. The cries of those who drowned rang in my ears. +But I thought that some came living to the shore, and lie there +senseless, to perish of the cold. Arise, therefore, take men and go +down to the rocks.” + +“I will go at daybreak,” said Atli, letting his head fall upon the +pillow. “I have little faith in such visions, and it is too late for +ships of war to try the passage of the Firth.” + +“Arise, I say,” answered Swanhild sternly, “and do my bidding, else I +will myself go to search the rocks.” + +Then Atli rose grumbling, and shook the heavy sleep from his eyes: for +of all living folk he most feared Swanhild his wife. He donned his +garments, threw a thick cloak about him, and, going to the hall where +men snored around the dying fires, for the night was bitter, he awoke +some of them. Now among those men whom he called was Hall of Lithdale, +Hall the mate who had cut the grapnel-chain. For this Hall, fearing to +return to Iceland, had come hither saying that he had been wounded off +Fareys, in the great fight between Eric and Ospakar’s men, and left +there to grow well of his hurt or die. Then Atli, not knowing that the +carle lied, had bid him welcome for Eric’s sake, for he still loved +Eric above all men. + +But Hall loved not labour and nightfarings to search for shipwrecked +men of whom the Lady Swanhild had chanced to dream. So he turned +himself upon his side and slept again. Still, certain of Atli’s folk +rose at his bidding, and they went together down to the south-western +rocks. + +But Swanhild, a cloak thrown over her night-gear, sat herself in the +high seat of the hall and fixing her eyes, now upon the dying fires and +now upon the blood-marks in her arm, waited in silence. The night was +cold and windy, but the moon shone bright, and by its light Atli and +his people made their way to the south-western rocks, on which the sea +beat madly. + +“What lies yonder?” said Atli, pointing to some black things that lay +beneath them upon the rock, cast there by the waves. A man climbed down +the cliff’s side that is here as though it were cut in steps, and then +cried aloud: + +“A ship’s mast, new broken, lord.” + +“It seems that Swanhild dreams true,” muttered Atli; “but I am sure of +this: that none have come ashore alive in such a sea.” + +Presently the man who searched the rocks below cried aloud again: + +“Here lie two great men, locked in each other’s arms. They seem to be +dead.” + +Now all the men climb down the slippery rocks as best they may, though +the spray wets them, and with them goes Atli. The Earl is a brisk man, +though old in years, and he comes first to where the two lie. He who +was undermost lay upon his back, but his face is hid by the thick +golden hair that flowed across it. + +“Man’s body indeed, but woman’s locks,” said Atli as he put out his +hand and drew the hair away, so that the light of the moon fell on the +face beneath. + +He looked, then staggered back against the rock. + +“By Thor!” he cried, “here lies the corpse of Eric Brighteyes!” and +Atli wrung his hands and wept, for he loved Eric much. + +“Be not so sure that the men are dead, Earl,” said one, “I thought I +saw yon great carle move but now.” + +“He is Skallagrim Lambstail, Eric’s Death-shadow,” said Atli again. “Up +with them, lads—see, yonder lies a plank—and away to the hall. I will +give twenty in silver to each of you if Eric lives,” and he unclasped +his cloak and threw it over both of them. + +Then with much labour they loosed the grip of the two men one from the +other, and they set Skallagrim on the plank. But eight men bore Eric up +the cliff between them, and the task was not light, though the Earl +held his head, from which the golden hair hung like seaweed from a +rock. + +At length they came to the hall and carried them in. Swanhild, seeing +them come, moved down from the high seat. + +“Bring lamps, and pile up the fires,” cried Atli. “A strange thing has +come to pass, Swanhild, and thou dost dream wisely, indeed, for here we +have Eric Brighteyes and Skallagrim Lambstail. They were locked like +lovers in each other’s arms, but I know not if they are dead or +living.” + +Now Swanhild started and came on swiftly. Had the Familiar tricked her +and had she paid the price for nothing? Was Eric taken from Gudruda and +given to her indeed—but given dead? She bent over him, gazing keenly on +his face. Then she spoke. + +“He is not dead but senseless. Bring dry clothes, and make water hot,” +and, kneeling down, she loosed Eric’s helm and harness and ungirded +Whitefire from his side. + +For long Swanhild and Atli tended Eric at one fire, and the serving +women tended Skallagrim at the other. Presently there came a cry that +Skallagrim stirred, and Atli with others ran to see. At this moment +also the eyes of Eric were unsealed, and Swanhild saw them looking at +her dimly from beneath. Moved to it by her passion and her joy that he +yet lived, Swanhild let her face fall till his was hidden in her +unbound hair, and kissed him upon the lips. Eric shut his eyes again, +sighing heavily, and presently he was asleep. They bore him to a bed +and heaped warm wrappings upon him. At daybreak he woke, and Atli, who +sat watching at his side, gave him hot mead to drink. + +“Do I dream?” said Eric, “or is it Earl Atli who tends me, and did I +but now see the face of Swanhild bending over me?” + +“It is no dream, Eric, but the truth. Thou hast been cast away here on +my isle of Straumey.” + +“And Skallagrim—where is Skallagrim?” + +“Skallagrim lives—fear not!” + +“And my comrades, how went it with them?” + +“But ill, Eric. Ran has them all. Now sleep!” + +Eric groaned aloud. “I had rather died also than live to hear such +heavy tidings,” he said. “Witch-work! witch-work! and that fair +witch-face wrought it.” And once again he slept, nor did he wake till +the sun was high. But Atli could make nothing of his words. + +When Swanhild left the side of Eric she met Hall of Lithdale face to +face and his looks were troubled. + +“Say, lady,” he asked, “will Brighteyes live?” + +“Grieve not, Hall,” she answered, “Eric will surely live and he will be +glad to find a messmate here to greet him, having left so many yonder,” +and she pointed to the sea. + +“I shall not be glad,” said Hall, letting his eyes fall. + +“Why not, Hall? Fearest thou Skallagrim? or hast thou done ill by +Eric?” + +“Ay, lady, I fear Skallagrim, for he swore to slay me, and that kind of +promise he ever keeps. Also, if the truth must out, I have not dealt +altogether well with Eric, and of all men I least wish to talk with +him.” + +“Speak on,” she said. + +Then, being forced to it, Hall told her something of the tale of the +cutting of the cable, being careful to put another colour on it. + +“Now it seems that thou art a coward, Hall,” Swanhild said when he had +done, “and I scarcely looked for that in thee,” for she had not been +deceived by the glozing of his speech. “It will be bad for thee to meet +Eric and Skallagrim, and this is my counsel: that thou goest hence +before they wake, for they will sit this winter here in Atli’s hall.” + +“And whither shall I go, lady?” + +Swanhild gazed on him, and as she did so a dark thought came into her +heart: here was a knave who might serve her ends. + +“Hall,” she said, “thou art an Icelander, and I have known of thee from +a child, and therefore I wish to serve thee in thy strait, though thou +deservest it little. See now, Atli the Earl has a farm on the mainland +not two hours’ ride from the sea. Thither thou shalt go, if thou art +wise, and thou shalt sit there this winter and be hidden from Eric and +Skallagrim. Nay, thank me not, but listen: it may chance that I shall +have a service for thee to do before spring is come.” + +“Lady, I shall wait upon thy word,” said Hall. + +“Good. Now, so soon as it is light, I will find a man to sail with thee +across the Firth, for the sea falls, and bear my message to the steward +at Atli’s farm. Also if thou needest faring-money thou shalt have it. +Farewell.” + +Thus then did Hall fly before Eric and Skallagrim. + +On the morrow Eric and Skallagrim arose, sick and bruised indeed, but +not at all harmed, and went down to the shore. There they found many +dead men of their company, but never a one in whom the breath of life +remained. + +Skallagrim looked at Eric and spoke: “Last night the mist came up +against the wind: last night we saw Swanhild’s wraith upon the waves, +and there is the path it showed, and there”—and he pointed to the dead +men—“is the witch-seed’s flower. Now to-day we sit in Atli’s hall and +here we must stay this winter at Swanhild’s side, and in all this there +lies a riddle that I cannot read.” + +But Eric shook his head, making no answer. Then, leaving Skallagrim +with the dead, he turned, and striding back alone towards the hall, sat +down on a rock in the home meadows and, covering his face with his +hands, wept for his comrades. + +As he wept Swanhild came to him, for she had seen him from afar, and +touched him gently on the arm. + +“Why weepest thou, Eric?” she said. + +“I weep for the dead, Swanhild,” he answered. + +“Weep not for the dead—they are at peace; if thou must weep, weep for +the living. Nay, weep not at all; rejoice rather that thou art here to +mourn. Hast thou no word of greeting for me who have not heard thy +voice these many months?” + +“How shall I greet thee, Swanhild, who would never have seen thy face +again if I might have had my will? Knowest thou that yesternight, as we +laboured in yonder Firth, we saw a shape walking the waters to lead us +to our doom? How shall I greet thee, Swanhild, who art a witch and +evil?” + +“And knowest thou, Eric, that yesternight I woke from sleep, having +dreamed that thou didst lie upon the shore, and thus I saved thee +alive, as perchance I have saved thee aforetime? If thou didst see a +shape walking the waters it was that shape which led thee here. Hadst +thou sailed on, not only those thou mournest, but Skallagrim and thou +thyself had now been numbered with the lost.” + +“Better so than thus,” said Brighteyes. “Knowest thou also, Swanhild, +that when last night my life came back again in Atli’s hall, methought +that Atli’s wife leaned over me and kissed me on the lips? That was an +ill dream, Swanhild.” + +“Some had found it none so ill, Eric,” she made answer, looking on him +strangely. “Still, it was but a dream. Thou didst dream that Atli’s +wife breathed back the breath of life into thy pale lips—be sure of it +thou didst but dream. Ah, Eric, fear me no more; forget the evil that I +have wrought in the blindness and folly of my youth. Now things are +otherwise with me. Now I am a wedded wife and faithful hearted to my +lord. Now, if I still love thee, it is with a sister’s love. Therefore +forget my sins, remember only that as children we played upon the +Iceland fells. Remember that, as boy and girl, we rode along the +marshes, while the sea-mews clamoured round our heads. The world is +cold, Eric, and few are the friends we find in it; many are already +gone, and soon the friendless dark draws near. So put me not away, my +brother and my friend; but, for a little space, whilst thou art here in +Atli’s hall, let us walk hand in hand as we walked long years ago in +Iceland, gathering up the fifa-bloom, and watching the midnight shadows +creep up the icy jökul’s crest.” + +Thus Swanhild spoke to him most sweetly, in a low voice of music, while +the tears gathered in her eyes, talking ever of Iceland that he loved, +and of days long dead, till Eric’s heart softened in him. + +“Almost do I believe thee, Swanhild,” he said, stretching out his hand; +“but I know thus: that thou art never twice in the same mood, and that +is beyond my measuring. Thou hast done much evil and thou hast striven +to do more; also I love not those who seem to walk the seas o’ nights. +Still, hold thou to this last saying of thine and there shall be peace +between us while I bide here.” + +She touched his hand humbly and turned to go. But as she went Eric +spoke again: “Say, Swanhild, hast thou tidings from Iceland yonder? I +have heard no word of Asmund or of Gudruda for two long years and +more.” + +She stood still, and a dark shadow that he could not see flitted across +her face. + +“I have few tidings, Eric,” she said, turning, “and those few, if I may +trust them, bad enough. For this is the rumour that I have heard: that +Asmund the Priest, my father, is dead; that Groa, my mother, is +dead—how, I know not; and, lastly, that Gudruda the Fair, thy love, is +betrothed to Ospakar Blacktooth and weds him in the spring.” + +Now Eric sprang up with an oath and grasped the hilt of Whitefire. Then +he sat down again upon the stone and covered his face with his hands. + +“Grieve not, Eric,” she said gently; “I put no faith in this news, for +rumour, like the black-backed gull, often changes colour in its flight +across the seas. Also I had it but at fifth hand. I am sure of this, at +least, that Gudruda will never forsake thee without a cause.” + +“It shall go ill with Ospakar if this be true,” said Eric, smiling +grimly, “for Whitefire is yet left me and with it one true friend.” + +“Run not to meet the evil, Eric. Thou shalt come to Iceland with the +summer flowers and find Gudruda faithful and yet fairer than of yore. +Knowest thou that Hall of Lithdale, who was thy mate, has sat here +these two months? He is gone but this morning, I know not whither, +leaving a message that he returns no more.” + +“He did well to go,” said Eric, and he told her how Hall had cut the +cable. + +“Ay, well indeed,” answered Swanhild. “Had Atli known this he would +have scourged Hall hence with rods of seaweed. And now, Eric, I desire +to ask thee one more thing: why wearest thou thy hair long like a +woman’s? Indeed, few women have such hair as thine is now.” + +“For this cause, Swanhild: I swore to Gudruda that none should cut my +hair till she cut it once more. It is a great burden to me surely, for +never did hair grow so fast and strong as mine, and once in a fray I +was held fast by it and went near to the losing of my life. Still, I +will keep the oath even if it grows on to my feet,” and he laughed a +little and shook back his golden locks. + +Swanhild smiled also and, turning, went. But when her face was hidden +from him she smiled no more. + +“As I live,” she said in her heart, “before spring rains fall I again +will cause thee to break this oath, Eric. Ay, I will cut a lock of that +bright hair of thine and send it for a love-token to Gudruda.” + +But Eric still sat upon the rock thinking. Swanhild had set an evil +seed of doubt in his heart, and already it put forth roots. What if the +tale were true? What if Gudruda had given herself to Ospakar? Well, if +so—she should soon be a widow, that he swore. + +Then he rose, and stalked grimly towards the hall. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX +HOW KOLL THE HALF-WITTED BROUGHT TIDINGS FROM ICELAND + + +Presently as Eric walked he met Atli the Earl seeking him. Atli greeted +him. + +“I have seen strange things, Eric,” he said, “but none more strange +than this coming of thine and the manner of it. Swanhild is +foresighted, and that was a doom-dream of hers.” + +“I think her foresighted also,” said Eric. “And now, Earl, knowest thou +this: that little good can come to thee at the hands of one whom thou +hast saved from the sea.” + +“I set no faith in such old wives’ tales,” answered Atli. “Here thou +art come, and it is my will that thou shouldest sit here. At the least, +I will give thee no help to go hence.” + +“Then we must bide in Straumey, it seems,” said Eric: “for of all my +goods and gear this alone is left me,” and he looked at Whitefire. + +“Thou hast still a gold ring or two upon thy arm,” answered the Earl, +laughing. “But surely, Eric, thou wouldst not begone?” + +“I know not, Earl. Listen: it is well that I should be plain with thee. +Once, before thou didst wed Swanhild, she had another mind.” + +“I have heard something of that, and I have guessed more, Brighteyes; +but methinks Swanhild is little given to gadding now. She is as cold as +ice, and no good wife for any man,” and Atli sighed, “‘Snow melts not +if sun shines not,’ so runs the saw. Thou art an honest man, Eric, and +no whisperer in the ears of others’ wives.” + +“I am not minded indeed to do thee such harm, Earl, but this thou +knowest: that woman’s guile and beauty are swords few shields can +brook. Now I have spoken—and they are hard words to speak—be it as thou +wilt.” + +“It is my will that thou shouldest sit here this winter, Eric. Had I my +way, indeed, never wouldest thou sit elsewhere. Listen: things have not +gone well with me of late. Age hath a grip of me, and foes rise up +against one who has no sons. That was an ill marriage, too, which I +made with Swanhild yonder: for she loves me not, and I have found no +luck since first I saw her face. Moreover, it is in my mind that my +days are almost sped. Swanhild has already foretold my death, and, as +thou knowest well, she is foresighted. So I pray thee, Eric, bide thou +here while thou mayest, for I would have thee at my side.” + +“It shall be as thou wilt, Earl,” said Eric. + +So Eric Brighteyes and Skallagrim Lambstail sat that winter in the hall +of Atli the Earl at Straumey. For many weeks all things went well and +Eric forgot his fears. Swanhild was gentle to him and kindly. She loved +much to talk with him, even of Gudruda her rival; but no word of love +passed her lips. Nevertheless, she did but bide her time, for when she +struck she determined to strike home. Atli and Eric were ever side by +side, and Eric gave the Earl much good counsel. He promised to do this +also, for now, being simple-minded, his doubts had passed and he had no +more fear of Swanhild. On the mainland lived a certain chief who had +seized large lands of Atli’s, and held them for a year or more. Now +Eric gave his word that, before he sailed for Iceland in the early +summer, he would go up against this man and drive him from the lands, +if he could. For Brighteyes might not come to Iceland till hard upon +midsummer, when his three years of outlawry were spent. + +The winter wore away and the spring came. Then Atli gathered his men +and went with Eric in boats to where the chief dwelt who held his +lands. There they fell on him and there was a fierce fight. But in the +end the man was slain by Skallagrim, and Eric did great deeds, as was +his wont. Now in this fray Eric was wounded in the foot by a spear, so +that he must be borne back to Straumey, and he lay there in the hall +for many days. Swanhild nursed him, and most days he sat talking with +her in her bower. + +When Eric was nearly healed of his hurt, the Earl went with all his +people to a certain island of the Orkneys to gather scat[*] that was +unpaid, and Skallagrim went with him. But Eric did not go, because of +his hurt, fearing lest the wound should open if he walked overmuch. +Thus it came to pass that, except for some women, he was left almost +alone with Swanhild. + +[*] Tribute. + + +Now, when Atli had been gone three days, it chanced on an afternoon +that Swanhild heard how a man from Iceland sought speech with her. She +bade them bring him in to where she was alone in her bower, for Eric +was not there, having gone down to the sea to fish. + +The man came and she knew him at once for Koll the Half-witted, who had +been her mother Groa’s thrall. On his shoulders was the cloak that +Ospakar Blacktooth had given him; it was much torn now, and he had a +worn and hungry look. + +“Whence comest thou, Koll?” she asked, “and what are thy tidings?” + +“From Scotland last, lady, where I sat this winter; before that, from +Iceland. As for my tidings, they are heavy, if thou hast not heard +them. Asmund the Priest is dead, and dead is Unna his wife, poisoned by +thy mother, Groa, at their marriage-feast. Dead, too, is thy mother, +Groa. Björn, Asmund’s son, shot her with an arrow, and she lies in +Goldfoss pool.” + +Now Swanhild hid her face for a while in her hands. Then she lifted it +and it was white to see. “Speakest thou truth, fox? If thou liest, this +I swear to thee—thy tongue shall be dragged from thee by the roots!” + +“I speak the truth, lady,” he answered. But still he spoke not all the +truth, for he said nothing of the part which he had played in the +deaths of Asmund and Unna. Then he told her of the manner of their end. + +Swanhild listened silently—then said: + +“What news of Gudruda, Asmund’s daughter? Is she wed?” + +“Nay, lady. Folk spoke of her and Ospakar, that was all.” + +“Hearken, Koll,” said Swanhild, “bearing such heavy tidings, canst thou +not weight the ship a little more? Eric Brighteyes is here. Canst thou +not swear to him that, when thou didst leave Iceland it was said +without question that Gudruda had betrothed herself to Ospakar, and +that the wedding-feast was set for this last Yule? Thou hast a hungry +look, Koll, and methinks that things have not gone altogether well with +thee of late. Now, if thou canst so charge thy memory, thou shalt lose +little by it. But, if thou canst not, then thou goest hence from +Straumey with never a luck-penny in thy purse, and never a sup to stay +thy stomach with.” + +Now of all things Koll least desired to be sent from Straumey; for, +though Swanhild did not know it, he was sought for on the mainland as a +thief. + +“That I may do, lady,” he said, looking at her cunningly. “Now I +remember that Gudruda the Fair charged me with a certain message for +Eric Brighteyes, if I should chance to see him as I journeyed.” + +Then Swanhild, Atli’s wife, and Koll the Half-witted talked long and +earnestly together. + +At nightfall Eric came in from his fishing. His heart was light, for +the time drew near when he should sail for home, and he did not think +on evil. For now he feared Swanhild no longer, and, no fresh tidings +having come from Iceland about Ospakar and Gudruda, he had almost put +the matter from his mind. On he walked to the hall, limping somewhat +from his wound, but singing as he came, and bearing his fish slung upon +a pole. + +At the men’s door of the hall a woman stood waiting. She told Eric that +the lady Swanhild would speak with him in her bower. Thither he went +and knocked. Getting no answer he knocked again, then entered. + +Swanhild sat on a couch. She was weeping, and her hair fell about her +face. + +“What now, Swanhild?” he said. + +She looked up heavily. “Ill news for thee and me, Eric. Koll, who was +my mother’s thrall, has come hither from Iceland, and these are his +tidings: that Asmund is dead, and Unna, thy cousin, Thorod of +Greenfell’s daughter, is dead, and my mother Groa is dead also.” + +“Heavy tidings, truly!” said Eric; “and what of Gudruda, is she also +dead?” + +“Nay, Eric she is wed—wed to Ospakar.” + +Now Eric reeled against the wall, clutching it, and for a space all +things swam round him. “Where is this Koll?” he gasped. “Send me Koll +hither.” + +Presently he came, and Eric questioned him coldly and calmly. But Koll +could lie full well. It is said that in his day there was no one in +Iceland who could lie so well as Koll the Half-witted. He told Eric how +it was said that Gudruda was plighted to Ospakar, and how the match had +been agreed on at the Althing in the summer that was gone (and indeed +there had been some such talk), and how that the feast was to be at +Middalhof on last Yule Day. + +“Is that all thy tidings?” said Eric. “If so, I give no heed to them: +for ever, Koll, I have known thee for a liar!” + +“Nay, Eric, it is not all,” answered Koll. “As it chanced, two days +before the ship in which I sailed was bound, I saw Gudruda the Fair. +Then she asked me whither I was going, and I told her that I would +journey to London, where men said thou wert, and asked her if she would +send a message. Then she alighted from her horse, Blackmane, and spoke +with me apart. ‘Koll,’ she said, ‘it well may happen that thou wilt see +Eric Brighteyes in London town. Now, if thou seest him, I charge thee +straightly tell him this. Tell him that my father is dead, and my +brother Björn, who rules in his place, is a hard man, and has ever +urged me on to wed Ospakar, till at last, having no choice, I have +consented to it. And say to Eric that I grieve much and sorely, and +that, though we twain should never meet more, yet I shall always hold +his memory dear.’” + +“It is not like Gudruda to speak thus,” said Eric: “she had ever a +stout heart and these are craven words. Koll, I hold that thou liest; +and, if indeed I find it so, I’ll wring the head from off thee!” + +“Nay, Eric, I lie not. Wherefore should I lie? Hearken: thou hast not +heard all my tale. When the lady Gudruda had made an end of speaking +she drew something from her breast and gave it me, saying: ‘Give this +to Eric, in witness of my words.’” + +“Show me the token,” said Eric. + +Now, many years ago, when they were yet boy and girl, it chanced that +Eric had given to Gudruda the half of an ancient gold piece that he had +found upon the shore. He had given her half, and half he had kept, +wearing it next his heart. But he knew not this, for she feared to tell +him, that Gudruda had lost her half. Nor indeed had she lost it, for +Swanhild had taken the love-token and hidden it away. Now she brought +it forth for Koll to build his lies upon. + +Then Koll drew out the half-piece from a leather purse and passed it to +him. Eric plunged his hand into his breast and found his half. He +placed the two side by side, while Swanhild watched him. Lo! they +fitted well. + +Then Eric laughed aloud, a hard and bitter laugh. “There will be +slaying,” he cried, “before all this tale is told. Take thy fee and +begone, thou messenger of ill,” and he cast the broken piece at Koll. +“For once thou hast spoken the truth.” + +Koll stooped, found the gold and went, leaving Brighteyes and Swanhild +face to face. + +He hid his brow in his arms and groaned aloud. Softly Swanhild crept up +to him—softly she drew his hands away, holding them between her own. + +“Heavy tidings, Eric,” she said, “heavy tidings for thee and me! She is +a murderess who gave me birth and she has slain my own father—my father +and thy cousin Unna also. Gudruda is a traitress, a traitress fair and +false. I did ill to be born of such a woman; thou didst ill to put thy +faith in such a woman. Together let us weep, for our woe is equal.” + +“Ay, let us weep together,” Eric answered. “Nay, why should we weep? +Together let us be merry, for we know the worst. All words are said—all +hopes are sped! Let us be merry, then, for now we have no more tidings +to fear.” + +“Ay,” Swanhild answered, looking on him darkly, “we will be merry and +laugh our sorrows down. Ah! thou foolish Eric, under what unlucky star +wast thou born that thou knewest not true from false?” and she called +the serving-women, bidding them bring food and wine. + +Now Eric sat alone with Swanhild in her bower and made pretence to eat. +But he could eat little, though he drank deep of the southern wine. +Close beside him sat Swanhild, filling his cup. She was wondrous fair +that night, and it seemed to Eric that her eyes gleamed like stars. +Sweetly she spoke also and wisely. She told strange tales and she sang +strange songs, and ever her eyes shone more and more, and ever she +crept closer to him. Eric’s brain was afire, though his heart was cold +and dead. He laughed loud and mightily, he told great tales of deeds +that he had done, growing boastful in his folly, and still Swanhild’s +eyes shone more and more, and still she crept closer, wooing him in +many ways. + +Now of a sudden Eric thought of his friend, Earl Atli, and his mind +grew clear. + +“This may not be, Swanhild,” he said. “Yet I would that I had loved +thee from the first, and not the false Gudruda: for, with all thy dark +ways, at least thou art better than she.” + +“Thou speakest wisely, Eric,” Swanhild answered, though she meant not +that he should go. “The Norns have appointed us an evil fate, giving me +as wife to an old man whom I do not love, and thee for a lover to a +woman who has betrayed thee. Ah, Eric Brighteyes, thou foolish Eric! +why knewest thou not the false from the true while yet there was time? +Now are all words said and all things done—nor can they be undone. Go +hence, Eric, ere ill come of it; but, before thou goest, drink one cup +of parting, and then farewell.” + +And she slipped from him and filled the cup, mixing in it a certain +love-portion that she had made ready. + +“Give it me that I may swear an oath on it,” said Eric. + +Swanhild gave him the cup and stood before him, watching him. + +“Hearken,” he said: “I swear this, that before snow falls again in +Iceland I will see Ospakar dead at my feet or lie dead at the feet of +Ospakar.” + +“Well spoken, Eric,” Swanhild answered. “Now, before thou drinkest, +grant me one little boon. It is but a woman’s fancy, and thou canst +scarce deny me. The years will be long when thou art gone, for from +this night it is best that we should meet no more, and I would keep +something of thee to call back thy memory and the memories of our youth +when thou hast passed away and I grow old.” + +“What wouldst have then, Swanhild? I have nothing left to give, except +Whitefire alone.” + +“I do not ask Whitefire, Eric, though Whitefire shall kiss the gift. I +ask nothing but one tress of that golden hair of thine.” + +“Once I swore that none should touch my hair again except Gudruda’s +self.” + +“It will grow long, then, Eric, for now Gudruda tends black locks and +thinks little on golden. Broken are all oaths.” + +Eric groaned. “All oaths are broken in sooth,” he said. “Have then thy +will;” and, loosing the peace-strings, he drew Whitefire from its +sheath and gave her the great war-sword. + +Swanhild took it by the hilt, and, lifting a tress of Eric’s yellow +hair, she shore through it deftly with Whitefire’s razor-edge, smiling +as she shore. With the same war-blade on which Eric and Gudruda had +pledged their troth, did Swanhild cut the locks that Eric had sworn no +hand should clip except Gudruda’s. + +He took back the sword and sheathed it, and, knotting the long tress, +Swanhild hid it in her bosom. + +“Now drink the cup, Eric,” she said—“pledge me and go.” + +Eric drank to the dregs and cast the cup down, and lo! all things +changed to him, for his blood was afire, and seas seemed to roll within +his brain. Only before him stood Swanhild like a shape of light and +glory, and he thought that she sang softly over him, always drawing +nearer, and that with her came a scent of flowers like the scent of the +Iceland meads in May. + +“All oaths are broken, Eric,” she murmured, “all oaths are broken +indeed, and now must new oaths be sworn. For cut is thy golden hair, +Brighteyes, and not by Gudruda’s hand!” + + + + +CHAPTER XX +HOW ERIC WAS NAMED ANEW + + +Eric dreamed. He dreamed that Gudruda stood by him looking at him with +soft, sad eyes, while with her hand she pointed to his hair, and spake. + +“Thou hast done ill, Eric,” she seemed to say. “Thou hast done ill to +doubt me; and now thou art for ever shamed, for thou hast betrayed +Atli, thy friend. Thou hast broken thy oath, and therefore hast thou +fallen into this pit; for when Swanhild shore that lock of thine, my +watching Spirit passed, leaving thee to Swanhild and thy fate. Now, I +tell thee this: that shame shall lead to shame, and many lives shall +pay forfeit for thy sin, Eric.” + +Eric awoke, thinking that this was indeed an evil dream which he had +dreamed. He woke, and lo! by him was Swanhild, Atli’s wife. He looked +upon her beauty, and fear and shame crept into his heart, for now he +knew that it was no dream, but he was lost indeed. He looked again at +Swanhild, and hatred and loathing of her shook him. She had overcome +him by her arts; that cup was drugged which he had drunk, and he was +mad with grief. Yes, she had played upon his woe like a harper on a +harp, and now he was ashamed—now he had betrayed his friend who loved +him! Had Whitefire been to his hand at that moment, Eric had surely +slain himself. But the great sword was not there, for it hung in +Swanhild’s bower. Eric groaned aloud, and Swanhild turned at the sound. +But he sprang away and stood over her, cursing her. + +“Thou witch!” he cried, “what hast thou done? What didst thou mix in +that cup yestre’en? Thou hast brought me to this that I have betrayed +Atli, my friend—Atli, thy lord, who left thee in my keeping!” + +He seemed so terrible in his woe and rage that Swanhild shrank from +him, and, throwing her hair about her face, peeped at him through its +meshes as once she had peeped at Asmund. + +“It is like a man,” she said, gathering up her courage and her wit; +“‘tis like a man, having won my love, now to turn upon me and upbraid +me. Fie upon thee, Eric! thou hast dealt ill with me to bring me to +this.” + +Now Eric ceased his raving, and spoke more calmly. + +“Well thou knowest the truth, Swanhild,” he said. + +“Hearken, Eric,” she answered. “Let this be secret between us. Atli is +old, and methinks that not for long shall he bide here in Straumey. +Soon he will die; it is upon my mind that he soon will die, and, being +childless, his lands and goods pass to me. Then, Eric, thou shalt sit +in Atli’s hall, and in all honour shall Atli’s wife become thy bride.” + +Eric listened coldly. “I can well believe,” he said, “that thou hast it +in mind to slay thy lord, for all evil is in thy heart, Swanhild. Now +know this: that if in honour or dishonour my lips touch that fair face +of thine again, may the limbs rot from my trunk, and may I lie a log +for ever in the halls of Hela! If ever my eyes of their own will look +again upon thy beauty, may I go blind and beg my meat from homestead to +homestead! If ever my tongue whisper word of love into thy ears, may +dumbness seize it, and may it wither to the root!” + +Swanhild heard and sank upon the ground before him, her head bowed +almost to her feet. + +“Now, Swanhild, fare thee well,” said Eric. “Living or dead, may I +never see thy face again!” + +She gazed up through her falling hair; her face was wild and white, and +her eyes glowed in it as live embers glow in the ashes of burnt wood. + +“We are not so easily parted, Eric,” she said. “Not for this came I to +witchcraft and to sin. Thou fool! hast thou never heard that, of all +the foes a man may have, none is so terrible as the woman he has +scorned? Thou shalt learn this lesson, Eric Brighteyes, Thorgrimur’s +son: for here we have but the beginning of the tale. For its end, I +will write it in runes of blood.” + +“Write on,” said Eric. “Thou canst do no worse than thou hast done,” +and he passed thence. + +For a while Swanhild crouched upon the ground, brooding in silence. +Then she rose, and, throwing up her arms, wept aloud. + +“Is it for this that I have sold my soul to the Hell-hag?” she cried. +“Is it for this that I have become a witch, and sunk so low as I sank +last night—to be scorned, to be hated, to be betrayed? Now Eric will go +to Atli and tell this tale. Nay, there I will be beforehand with him, +and with another story—an ancient wile of women truly, but one that +never yet has failed them, nor ever will. And then for vengeance! I +will see thee dead, Eric, and dead will I see Gudruda at thy side! +Afterwards let darkness come—ay, though the horror rides it! Swift!—I +must be swift!” + +Eric passed into Swanhild’s bower, and, finding Whitefire, bore it +thence. On the table was food. He took it. Then, going to the place +where he was wont to sleep, he armed himself, girding his byrnie on his +breast and his golden helm upon his head, and taking shield and spear +in his hand. Then he passed out. By the men’s door he found some women +spreading fish in the sun. Eric greeted them, saying that when the Earl +came back, for he was to come on that morning, he would find him on the +south-western rocks nigh to where the Gudruda sank. This he begged of +them to tell Atli, for he desired speech with him. + +The women wondered that Brighteyes should go forth thus and fully +armed, but, holding that he had some deed to do, they said nothing. + +Eric came to the rocks, and there he sat all day long looking on the +sea, and grieving so bitterly that he thought his heart would burst +within him. For of all the days of Eric’s life this was the heaviest, +except one other only. + +But Swanhild, going to her bower, caused Koll the Half-witted to be +summoned. To him she spoke long and earnestly, and they made a shameful +plot together. Then she bade Koll watch for Atli’s coming and, when he +saw the Earl leave his boats, to run to him and say that she would +speak with him. + +After this Swanhild sent a man across the firth to the stead where Hall +of Lithdale sat, bidding him to come to her at speed. + +When the afternoon grew towards the evening, Koll, watching, saw the +boats of Atli draw to the landing-place. Then he went down, and, going +to the Earl, bowed before him: + +“What wouldst thou, fellow, and who art thou?” asked Atli. + +“I am a man from Iceland; perchance, lord, thou sawest me in Asmund’s +hall at Middalhof. I am sent here by the Lady Swanhild to say that she +desires speech with thee, and that at once.” Then, seeing Skallagrim, +Koll fled back to the house, for he feared Skallagrim. + +Now Atli was uneasy in his mind, and, saying nothing, he hurried up to +the hall, and through it into Swanhild’s bower. + +There she sat on a couch, her eyes red with weeping, and her curling +hair unbound. + +“What now, Swanhild?” he asked. “Why lookest thou thus?” + +“Why look I thus, my lord?” she answered heavily. “Because I have to +tell thee that which I cannot find words to fit,” and she ceased. + +“Speak on,” he said. “Is aught wrong with Eric?” + +Then Swanhild drew near and told him a false tale. + +When it was done for a moment or so Atli stood still, and grew white +beneath his ruddy skin, white as his beard. Then he staggered back +against the wainscoting of the bower. + +“Woman, thou liest!” he said. “Never will I believe so vile a thing of +Eric Brighteyes, whom I have loved.” + +“Would that I could not believe it!” she answered. “Would that I could +think it was but an evil dream! But alas! Nay, I will prove it. Suffer +that I summon Koll, the Icelander, who was my mother’s thrall—Groa who +now is dead, for I have that tidings also. He saw something of this +thing, and he will bear me witness.” + +“Call the man,” said Atli sternly. + +So Koll was summoned, and told his lies with a bold face. He was so +well taught, and so closely did his story tally with that of Swanhild, +that Atli could find no flaw in it. + +“Now I am sure, Swanhild, that thou speakest truth,” said the Earl when +Koll had gone. “And now also I have somewhat to say to this Eric. For +thee, rest thyself; that which cannot be mended must be borne,” and he +went out. + +Now, when Skallagrim came to the house he asked for Eric. The women +told him that Brighteyes had gone down to the sea, fully armed, in the +morning, and had not returned. + +“Then there must be fighting toward, and that I am loth to miss,” said +Skallagrim, and, axe aloft, he started for the south-western rocks at a +run. Skallagrim came to the rocks. There he found Eric, sitting in his +harness, looking out across the sea. The evening was wet and windy; the +rain beat upon him as he sat, but Eric took no heed. + +“What seekest thou, lord?” asked the Baresark. + +“Rest,” said Eric, “and I find none.” + +“Thou seekest rest helm on head and sword in hand? This is a strange +thing, truly!” + +“Stranger things have been, Skallagrim. Wouldst thou hear a tale?” and +he told him all. + +“What said I?” asked Skallagrim. “We had fared better in London town. +Flying from the dove thou hast found the falcon.” + +“I have found the falcon, comrade, and she has pecked out my eyes. Now +I would speak with Atli, and then I go hence.” + +“Hence go the twain of us, lord. The Earl will be here presently and +rough words will fly in this rough weather. Is Whitefire sharp, +Brighteyes?” + +“Whitefire was sharp enough to shear my hair, Skallagrim; but if Atli +would strike let him lay on. Whitefire will not be aloft for him.” + +“That we shall see,” said Skallagrim. “At least, if thou art harmed +because of this loose quean, my axe will be aloft.” + +“Keep thou thine axe in its place,” said Eric, and as he spoke Atli +came, and with him many men. + +Eric rose and turned to meet the Earl, looking on him with sad eyes. +For Atli, his face was as the face of a trapped wolf, for he was mad +with rage at the shame that had been put upon him and the ill tale that +Swanhild had told of Eric’s dealings with her. + +“It seems that the Earl has heard of these tidings,” said Skallagrim. + +“Then I shall be spared the telling of them,” answered Eric. + +Now they stood face to face; Atli leaned upon his drawn sword, and his +wrath was so fierce that for a while he could not speak. At length he +found words. + +“See ye that man, comrades?” he said, pointing at Eric with the sword. +“He has been my guest these many months. He has sat in my hall and +eaten of my bread, and I have loved him as a son. And wot ye how he has +repaid me? He has put me to the greatest shame, me and my wife the Lady +Swanhild, whom I left in his guard—to such shame, indeed, that I cannot +speak it.” + +“True words, Earl,” said Eric, while folk murmured and handled their +swords. + +“True, but not all the truth,” growled Skallagrim. “Methinks the Earl +has heard a garbled tale.” + +“True words, thyself thou sayest it,” went on Atli, “thou hound that I +saved from the sea! ‘Ran’s gift, Hela’s gift,’ so runs the saw, and now +from Ran to Hela thou shalt go, thou mishandler of defenceless women!” + +“Here is somewhat of which I know nothing,” said Eric. + +“And here is something of which thou shalt know,” answered Atli, and he +shook his sword before Eric’s eyes. “Guard thyself!” + +“Nay, Earl; thou art old, and I have done the wrong—I may not fight +with thee.” + +“Art thou a coward also?” said the Earl. + +“Some have deemed otherwise,” said Eric, “but it is true that heavy +heart makes weak hand. Nevertheless this is my rede. With thee are ten +men. Stand thou aside and let them fall on me till I am slain.” + +“The odds are too heavy even for thee,” said Skallagrim. “Back to back, +lord, as we have stood aforetime, and let us play this game together.” + +“Not so,” cried Atli, “this shame is mine, and I have sworn to Swanhild +that I will wipe it out in Eric’s blood. Stand thou before me and +draw!” + +Then Eric drew Whitefire and raised his shield. Atli the Earl rushed at +him and smote a great two-handed blow. Eric caught it on his shield and +suffered no harm; but he would not smite back. + +Atli dropped his point. “Niddering art thou, and coward to the last!” +he cried. “See, men, Eric Brighteyes fears to fight. I am not come to +this that I will cut down a man who is too faint-hearted to give blow +for blow. This is my word: take ye your spear-shafts and push this +coward to the shore. Then put him in a boat and drive him hence.” + +Now Eric grew red as the red light of sunset, for his manhood might not +bear this. + +“Take shield,” he said, “and, Earl, on thine own head be thy blood, for +none shall live to call Eric niddering and coward.” + +Atli laughed in his folly and his rage. He took a shield, and, once +more springing on Brighteyes, struck a great blow. + +Eric parried, then whirled Whitefire on high and smote—once and once +only! Down rushed the bright blade like a star through the night. Sword +and shield did Atli lift to catch the blow. Through shield it sheared, +and arm that held the shield, through byrnie mail and deep into Earl +Atli’s side. He fell prone to earth, while men held their breath, +wondering at the greatness of that stroke. + +But Eric leaned on Whitefire and looked at the old Earl upon the rock. + +“Now, Atli, thou hast had thy way,” he said, “and methinks things are +worse than they were before. But I will say this: would that I lay +there and thou stoodest to watch me die, for as lief would I have slain +my father as thee, Earl Atli. There lies Swanhild’s work!” + +Atli gazed upwards into Eric’s sad eyes and, while he gazed so, his +rage left him, and of a sudden a light brake upon his mind, as even +then the light of the setting sun brake through the driving mist. + +“Eric,” he said, “draw near and speak with me ere I am sped. Methinks +that I have been beguiled and that thou didst not do this thing that +Swanhild said and Koll bore witness to.” + +“What did Swanhild say, then, Earl Atli?” + +The Earl told him. + +“It was to be looked for from her,” said Eric, “though I never thought +of it. Now hearken!” and he told him all. + +Atli groaned aloud. “I know this now, Eric,” he said: “that thou +speakest truth, and once more I have been deceived. Eric, I forgive +thee all, for no man may fight against woman’s witchcraft, and witch’s +wine. Swanhild is evil to the heart. Yet, Eric, I lay this doom upon +thee—I do not lay it of my own will, for I would not harm thee, whom I +love, but because of the words that the Norns put in my mouth, for now +I am fey in this the hour of my death. Thou hast sinned, and that thou +didst sin against thy will shall avail thee nothing, for of thy sin +fate shall fashion a handle to the spear which pierces thee. Henceforth +thou art accursed. For I tell thee that this wicked woman Swanhild +shall drag thee down to death, and worse than death, and with thee +those thou lovest. By witchcraft she brought thee to Straumey, by lies +she laid me here before thee. Now by hate and might and cruel deeds +shall she bring thee to lie more low than I do. For, Eric, thou art +bound to her, and thou shalt never loose the bond!” + +Atli ceased a while, then spoke again more faintly: + +“Hearken, comrades,” he cried; “my strength is well-nigh spent. Ye +shall swear four things to me—that ye will give Eric Brighteyes and +Skallagrim Lambstail safe passage from Straumey. That ye will tell +Swanhild the Fatherless, Groa’s daughter and Atli’s wife, that, at +last, I know her for what she is—a murderess, a harlot, a witch and a +liar; and that I forgive Eric whom she tricked, but that her I hate and +spit upon. That ye will slay Koll the Half-witted, Groa’s thrall, who +came hither about two days gone, since by his lies he hath set an edge +upon this sword of falsehood. That ye will raise no blood-feud against +Eric for this my slaying, for I goaded him to the deed. Do ye swear?” + +“We swear,” said the men. + +“Then farewell! And to thee farewell, also, Eric Brighteyes! Now take +my hand and hold it while I die. Behold! I give thee a new name, and by +that name thou shalt be called in story. I name thee _Eric the +Unlucky_. Of all tales that are told, thine shall be the greatest. A +mighty stroke that was of thine—a mighty stroke! Farewell!” + +Then his head fell back upon the rock and Earl Atli died. And as he +died the last rays of light went out of the sky. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI +HOW HALL OF LITHDALE TOOK TIDINGS TO ICELAND + + +Now on the same night that Atli died at the hand of Eric, Swanhild +spake with Hall of Lithdale, whom she had summoned from the mainland. +She bade him do this: take passage in a certain ship that should sail +for Iceland on the morrow from the island that is called Westra, and +there tell all these tidings of the ill-doings of Eric and of the +slaying of Atli by his hand. + +“Thou shalt say this,” she went on, “that Eric had been my love for +long, but that at length the matter came to the ears of Atli, the Earl. +Then, holding this the greatest shame, he went on holmgang with Eric +and was slain by him. This shalt thou add to thy tale also, that +presently Eric and I will wed, and that Eric shall rule as Earl in +Orkneys. Now these tidings must soon come to the ears of Gudruda the +Fair, and she will send for thee, and question thee straightly +concerning them, and thou shalt tell her the tale as thou toldest it at +first. Then thou shalt give Gudruda this packet, which I send her as a +gift, saying, that I bade her remember a certain oath which Eric took +as to the cutting of his hair. And when she sees that which is within +the packet is somewhat stained, tell her that is but the blood of Atli +that is upon it, as his blood is upon Eric’s hands. Now remember thou +this, Hall, that if thou fail in the errand thy life shall pay forfeit, +for presently I will also come to Iceland and hear how thou hast sped.” + +Then Swanhild gave him faring-money and gifts of wadmal and gold rings, +promising that he should have so much again when she came to Iceland. + +Hall said that he would do all these things, and went at once; nor did +he fail in his tasks. + +Atli being dead, Eric loosed his hand and called to the men to take up +his body and bear it to the hall. This they did. Eric stood and watched +them till they were lost in the darkness. + +“Whither now, lord?” said Skallagrim. + +“It matters little,” said Eric. “What is thy counsel?” + +“This is my counsel. That we take ship and sail back to the King in +London. There we will tell all this tale. It is a far cry from Straumey +to London town, and there we shall sit in peace, for the King will +think little of the slaying of an Orkney Earl in a brawl about a woman. +Mayhap, too, the Lady Elfrida will not set great store by it. +Therefore, I say, let us fare back to London.” + +“In but one place am I at home, and that is Iceland,” said Eric. +“Thither I will go, Skallagrim, though it be but to miss friend from +stead and bride from bed. At the least I shall find Ospakar there.” + +“Listen, lord!” said Skallagrim. “Was it not my rede that we should +bide this winter through in London? Thou wouldst none of it, and what +came about? Our ship is sunk, gone are our comrades, thine honour is +tarnished, and dead is thy host at thine own hand. Yet I say all is not +lost. Let us hence south, and see no more of Swanhild, of Gudruda, of +Björn and Ospakar. So shall we break the spell. But if thou goest to +Iceland, I am sure of this: that the evil fate which Atli foretold will +fall on thee, and the days to come shall be even more unlucky than the +days that have been.” + +“It may be so,” said Eric. “Methinks, indeed, it will be so. Henceforth +I am Eric the Unlucky. I will go back to Iceland and there play out the +game. I care little if I live or am slain—I have no more joy in my +life. I stand alone, like a fir upon a mountain-top, and every wind +from heaven and every storm of hail and snow beats upon my head. But I +say to thee, Skallagrim: go thy road, and leave a luckless man to his +ill fate. Otherwise it shall be thine also. Good friend hast thou been +to me; now let us part and wend south and north. The King will be glad +to greet thee yonder in London, Lambstail.” + +“But one severing shall we know, lord,” said Skallagrim, “and that +shall be sword’s work, nor will it be for long. It is ill to speak such +words as these of the parting of lord and thrall. Bethink thee of the +oath I swore on Mosfell. Let us go north, since it is thy will: in +fifty years it will count for little which way we wended from the +Isles.” + +So they went together down to the shore, and, finding a boat and men +who as yet knew nothing of what had chanced to Atli, they sailed across +the firth at the rising of the moon. + +Two days afterwards they found a ship at Wick that was bound for +Fareys, and sailed in her, Eric buying a passage with the half of a +gold ring that the King had given him in London. + +Here at Fareys they sat a month or more; but not in the Earl’s hall as +when Eric came with honour in the Gudruda, but in a farmer’s stead. For +the tale of Eric’s dealings with Atli and Atli’s wife had reached +Fareys, and the Earl there had been a friend of Atli’s. Moreover, Eric +was now a poor man, having neither ship nor goods, nor friends. +Therefore all looked coldly on him, though they wondered at his beauty +and his might. Still, they dared not to speak ill or make a mock of +him; for, two men having done so, were nearly slain of Skallagrim, who +seized the twain by the throat, one in either hand, and dashed their +heads together. After that men said little. + +They sat there a month, till at length a chapman put in at Fareys, +bound for Iceland, and they took passage with him, Eric paying the +other half of his gold ring for ship-room. The chapman was not willing +to give them place at first, for he, too, had heard the tale; but +Skallagrim offered him choice, either to do so or to go on holmgang +with him. Then the chapman gave them passage. + +Now it is told that when his thralls and house-carles bore the corpse +of Atli the Earl to his hall in Straumey, Swanhild met it and wept over +it. And when the spokesman among them stood forward and told her those +words that Atli had bidden them to say to her, sparing none, she spoke +thus: + +“My lord was distraught and weak with loss of blood when he spoke thus. +The tale I told him was true, and now Eric has added to his sin by +shedding the blood of him whom he wronged so sorely.” + +And thereafter she spoke so sweetly and with so much gentleness, craft, +and wisdom that, though they still doubted them, all men held her words +weighty. For Swanhild had this art, that she could make the false sound +true in the ears of men and the true sound false. + +Still, being mindful of their oath, they hunted for Koll and found him. +And when the thrall knew that they would slay him he ran thence +screaming. Nor did Swanhild lift a hand to save his life, for she +desired that Koll should die, lest he should bear witness against her. +Away he ran towards the cliffs, and after him sped Atli’s house-carles, +till he came to the great cliffs that edge in the sea. Now they were +close upon him and their swords were aloft. Then, sooner than know the +kiss of steel, the liar leapt from the cliffs and was crushed, dying +miserably on the rocks below. This was the end of Koll the Half-witted, +Groa’s thrall. + +Swanhild sat in Straumey for a while, and took all Atli’s heritage into +her keeping, for he had no male kin; nor did any say her nay. Also she +called in the moneys that he had out at interest, and that was a great +sum, for Atli was a careful and a wealthy man. Then Swanhild made ready +to go to Iceland. Atli had a great dragon of war, and she manned that +ship and filled it with stores and all things needful. This done, she +set stewards and grieves over the Orkney lands and farms, and, when the +Earl was six weeks dead, she sailed for Iceland, giving out that she +went thither to set a blood-suit on foot against Eric for the death of +Atli, her lord. There she came in safety just as folk rode to the +Thing. + +Now Hall of Lithdale came to Iceland and told his tale of the doings of +Eric and the death of Atli. Oft and loud he told it, and soon people +gossiped of it in field and fair and stead. Björn, Asmund’s son, heard +this talk and sent for Hall. To him also Hall told the tale. + +“Now,” said Björn, “we will go to my sister Gudruda the Fair, and learn +how she takes these tidings.” + +So they went in to where Gudruda sat spinning in the hall, singing as +she span. + +“Greeting, Gudruda,” said Björn; “say, hast thou tidings of Eric +Brighteyes, thy betrothed?” + +“I have no tidings,” said Gudruda. + +“Then here is one who brings them.” + +Now for the first time Gudruda the Fair saw Hall of Lithdale. Up she +sprang. “Thou hast tidings of Eric, Hall? Ah! thou art welcome, for no +tidings have come of him for many a month. Speak on,” and she pressed +her hand against her heart and leaned towards him. + +“My tidings are ill, lady.” + +“Is Eric dead? Say not that my love is dead!” + +“He is worse than dead,” said Hall. “He is shamed.” + +“There thou liest, Hall,” she answered. “Shame and Eric are things +apart.” + +“Mayst thou think so when thou hast heard my tale, lady,” said Hall, +“for I am sad at heart to speak it of one who was my mate.” + +“Speak on, I say,” answered Gudruda, in such a voice that Hall shrank +from her. “Speak on; but of this I warn thee: that if in one word thou +liest, that shall be thy death when Eric comes.” + +Now Hall was afraid, thinking of the axe of Skallagrim. Still, he might +not go back upon his word. So he began at the beginning, telling the +story of how he was wounded in the fight with Ospakar’s ships and left +Farey isles, and how he came thence to Scotland and sat in Atli’s hall +on Orkneys. Then he told how the Gudruda was wrecked on Straumey, and, +of all aboard, Eric and Skallagrim alone were saved because of +Swanhild’s dream. + +“Herein I see witch-work,” said Gudruda. + +Then Hall told that Eric became Swanhild’s love, but of the other tale +which Swanhild had whispered to Atli he said nothing. For he knew that +Gudruda would not believe this, and, moreover, if it were so, Swanhild +had not sent the token which he should give. + +“It may well be,” said Gudruda, proudly; “Swanhild is fair and light of +mind. Perchance she led Brighteyes into this snare.” But, though she +spoke thus, bitter jealousy and anger burned in her breast and she +remembered the sight which she had seen when Eric and Swanhild met on +the morn of Atli’s wedding. + +Then Hall told of the slaying of Atli the Good by Eric, but he said +nothing of the Earl’s dying words, nor of how he goaded Brighteyes with +his bitter words. + +“It was an ill deed in sooth,” said Gudruda, “for Eric to slay an old +man whom he had wronged. Still, it may chance that he was driven to it +for his own life’s sake.” + +Then Hall said that he had seen Swanhild after Atli’s slaying, and that +she had told him that she and Eric should wed shortly, and that Eric +would rule in Orkneys by her side. + +Gudruda asked if that was all his tale. + +“Yes, lady,” answered Hall, “that is all my tale, for after that I +sailed and know not what happened. But I am charged to give something +to thee, and that by the Lady Swanhild. She bade me say this also: +that, when thou lookest on the gift, thou shouldst think on a certain +oath which Eric took as to the cutting of his hair.” And he drew a +linen packet from his breast and gave it to her. + +Thrice Gudruda looked on it, fearing to open it. Then, seeing the smile +of mockery on Björn’s cold face, she took the shears that hung at her +side and cut the thread with them. And as she cut, a lock of golden +hair rose from the packet, untwisting itself like a living snake. The +lock was long, and its end was caked with gore. + +“Whose hair is this?” said Gudruda, though she knew the hair well. + +“Eric’s hair,” said Hall, “that Swanhild cut from his head with Eric’s +sword.” + +Now Gudruda put her hand to her bosom. She drew out a satchel, and from +the satchel a lock of yellow hair. Side by side she placed the locks, +looking first at one and then at the other. + +“This is Eric’s hair in sooth,” she said—“Eric’s hair that he swore +none but I should cut! Eric’s hair that Swanhild shore with Whitefire +from Eric’s head—Whitefire whereon we plighted troth! Say now, whose +blood is this that stains the hair of Eric?” + +“It is Atli’s blood, whom Eric first dishonoured and then slew with his +own hand,” answered Hall. + +Now there burned a fire on the hearth, for the day was cold. Gudruda +the Fair stood over the fire and with either hand she let the two locks +of Eric’s hair fall upon the embers. Slowly they twisted up and burned. +She watched them burn, then she threw up her hands and with a great cry +fled from the hall. + +Björn and Hall of Lithdale looked on each other. + +“Thou hadst best go hence!” said Björn; “and of this I warn thee, Hall, +though I hold thy tidings good, that, if thou hast spoken one false +word, that will be thy death. For then it would be better for thee to +face all the wolves in Iceland than to stand before Eric in his rage.” + +Again Hall bethought himself of the axe of Skallagrim, and he went out +heavily. + +That day a messenger came from Gudruda to Björn, saying that she would +speak with him. He went to where she sat alone upon her bed. Her face +was white as death, and her dark eyes glowed. + +“Eric has dealt badly with thee, sister, to bring thee to this sorrow,” +said Björn. + +“Speak no evil of Eric to me,” Gudruda answered. “The evil that he has +done will be paid back to him; there is little need for thee to heap +words upon his head. Hearken, Björn my brother: is it yet thy will that +I should wed Ospakar Blacktooth?” + +“That is my will, surely. There is no match in Iceland as this Ospakar, +and I should win many friends by it.” + +“Do this then, Björn. Send messengers to Swinefell and say to Ospakar +that if he would still wed Gudruda the Fair, Asmund’s daughter, let him +come to Middalhof when folk ride from the Thing and he shall not go +hence alone. Nay, I have done. Now, I pray thee speak no more to me of +Eric or of Ospakar. Of the one I have seen and heard enough, and of the +other I shall hear and see enough in the years that are to come.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXII +HOW ERIC CAME HOME AGAIN + + +Swanhild made a good passage from the Orkneys, and was in Iceland +thirty-five days before Eric and Skallagrim set foot there. But she did +not land by Westman Isles, for she had no wish to face Gudruda at that +time, but by Reyjaness. Now she rode thence with her company to +Thingvalla, for here all men were gathered for the Thing. At first +people hung aloof from her, notwithstanding her wealth and beauty; but +Swanhild knew well how to win the hearts of men. For now she told the +same story of Eric that she had told to Atli, and there were none to +say her nay. So it came to pass that she was believed, and Eric +Brighteyes held to be shamed indeed. Now, too, she set a suit on foot +against Eric for the death of Atli at his hand, claiming that sentence +of the greater outlawry should be passed against him, and that his +lands at Coldback in the Marsh on Ran River should be given, half to +her in atonement for the Earl’s death, and half to the men of Eric’s +quarter. + +On the day of the opening of the Thing Ospakar Blacktooth came from the +north, and with him his son Gizur and a great company of men. Ospakar +was blithe, for from the Thing he should ride to Middalhof, there to +wed Gudruda the Fair. Then Swanhild clad herself in beautiful attire, +and, taking men with her, went to the booth of Ospakar. + +Blacktooth sat in his booth and by him sat Gizur his son the Lawman. +When he saw a beauteous lady, very richly clad, enter the booth he did +not know who it might be. But Gizur knew her well, for he could never +put Swanhild from his mind. + +“Lo! here comes Swanhild the Fatherless, Atli’s widow,” said Gizur, +flushing red with joy at the sight of her. + +Then Ospakar greeted her heartily, and made place for her by him at the +top of the booth. + +“Ospakar Blacktooth,” she said, “I am come to ask this of thee: that +thou shalt befriend me in the suit which I have against Eric Brighteyes +for the slaying of Earl Atli, my husband.” + +“Thou couldst have come to no man who is more willing,” said Ospakar, +“for, if thou hast something against Eric, I have yet more.” + +“I would ask this, too, Ospakar: that thy son Gizur should take up my +suit and plead it; for I know well that he is the most skilful of all +lawmen.” + +“I will do that,” said Gizur, his eyes yet fixed upon her face. + +“I looked for no less from thee,” said Swanhild, “and be sure of this, +that thou shalt not plead for nothing,” and she glanced at him +meaningly. Then she set out her case with a lying tongue, and +afterwards went back to her booth, glad at heart. For now she learned +that Hall had not failed in his errand, seeing that Gudruda was about +to wed Ospakar. + +Gizur gave warning of the blood-suit, and the end of it was that, +though he had no notice and was not there to answer to the charge, +against all right and custom Eric was declared outlaw and his lands +were given, half to Swanhild and half to the men of his quarter. For +now all held that Swanhild’s was a true tale, and Eric the most +shameful of men, and therefore they were willing to stretch the law +against him. Also, being absent, he had few friends, and those men of +small account; whereas Ospakar, who backed Swanhild’s suit, was the +most powerful of the northern chiefs, as Gizur was the most skilled +lawman in Iceland. Moreover, Björn the Priest, Asmund’s son, was among +the judges, and, though Swanhild’s tale seemed strange to him after +that which he had heard from Hall of Lithdale, he loved Eric little. He +feared also that if Eric came a free man to Iceland before Gudruda was +wed to Ospakar, her love would conquer her anger, for he could see well +that she still loved Brighteyes. Therefore he strove with might and +main that Eric should be brought in guilty, nor did he fail in this. + +So the end of it was that Eric Brighteyes was outlawed, his lands +declared forfeit, and his head a wolf’s head, to be taken by him who +might, should he set foot in Iceland. + +Thereafter, the Althing being ended, Björn, Gizur, and Ospakar, with +all their company, rode away to Middalhof to sit at the marriage-feast. +But Swanhild and her folk went by sea in the long war-ship to Westmans. +For this was her plan: to seize on Coldback and to sit there for a +while, till she saw if Eric came out to Iceland. Also she desired to +see the wedding of Ospakar and Gudruda, for she had been bidden to it +by Björn, her half-brother. + +Now Ospakar came to Middalhof, and found Gudruda waiting his coming. + +She stood in the great hall, pale and cold as April snow, and greeted +him courteously. But when he would have kissed her, she shrank from +him, for now he was more hideous in her sight than he had ever been, +and she loathed him in her heart. + +That night there was feasting in the hall, and at the feast Gudruda +heard that Eric had been made outlaw. Then she spoke: + +“This is an ill deed, thus to judge an absent man.” + +“Say, Gudruda,” said Björn in her ear, “hast thou not also judged Eric +who is absent?” + +She turned her head and spoke no more of Eric; but Björn’s words fixed +themselves in her heart like arrows. The tale was strange to her, for +it seemed that Eric had been made outlaw at Swanhild’s suit, and yet +Eric was Swanhild’s love: for Swanhild’s self had sent the lock of +Brighteyes’ hair by Hall, saying that he was her love and soon would +wed her. How, then, did Swanhild bring a suit against him who should be +her husband? Moreover, she heard that Swanhild sailed down to Coldback, +and was bidden to the marriage-feast, that should be on the third day +from now. Could it be, then, when all was said and done, that Eric was +less faithless than she deemed? Gudruda’s heart stood still and the +blood rushed to her brow when she thought on it. Also, even if it were +so, it was now too late. And surely it was not so, for had not Eric +been made outlaw? Men were not made outlaw for a little thing. Nay, she +would meet her fate, and ask no more of Eric and his doings. + +On the morrow, as Gudruda sat in her chamber, it was told her that +Saevuna, Thorgrimur’s widow and Eric’s mother, had come from Coldback +to speak with her. For, after the death of Asmund and of Unna, Saevuna +had moved back to Coldback on the Marsh. + +“Nay, how can this be?” said Gudruda astonished, for she knew well that +Saevuna was now both blind and bed-ridden. + +“She has been borne here in a chair,” said the woman who told her, “and +that is a strange sight to see.” + +At first Gudruda was minded to say her nay; but her heart softened, and +she bade them bring Saevuna in. Presently she came, being set in a +chair upon the shoulders of four men. She was white to see, for +sickness had aged her much, and she stared about her with sightless +eyes. But she was still tall and straight, and her face was stern to +look on. To Gudruda it seemed like that of Eric when he was angered. + +“Am I nigh to Gudruda the Fair, Asmund’s daughter?” asked Saevuna. +“Methinks I hear her breathe.” + +“I am here, mother,” said Gudruda. “What is thy will with me?” + +“Set down, carles, and begone!” quoth Saevuna; “that which I have to +say I would say alone. When I summon you, come.” + +The carles set down the chair upon the floor and went. + +“Gudruda,” said the dame, “I am risen from my deathbed, and I have +caused myself to be borne on my last journey here across the meads, +that I may speak with thee and warn thee. I hear that thou hast put +away my son, Eric Brighteyes, to whom thou art sworn in marriage, and +art about to give thyself to Ospakar Blacktooth. I hear also that thou +hast done this deed because a certain man, Hall of Lithdale—whom from +his youth up I have known for a liar and a knave, and whom thou thyself +didst mistrust in years gone by—has come hither to Iceland from +Orkneys, bearing a tale of Eric’s dealings with thy half-sister +Swanhild. This I hear, further: that Swanhild, Atli’s widow, hath come +out to Iceland and laid a suit against Eric for the slaying of Atli the +Earl, her husband, and that Eric has been outlawed and his lands at +Coldback are forfeit. Tell me now, Gudruda, Asmund’s daughter, if these +tales be true?” + +“The tales are true, mother,” said Gudruda. + +“Then hearken to me, girl. Eric sprang from my womb, who of all living +men is the best and first, as he is the bravest and most strong. I have +reared this Eric from a babe and I know his heart well. Now I tell thee +this, that, whatever Eric has done or left undone, naught of dishonour +is on his hands. Mayhap Swanhild has deceived him—thou art a woman, and +thou knowest well the arts which women have, and the strength that +Freya gives them. Well thou knowest, also, of what breed this Swanhild +came; and perchance thou canst remember how she dealt with thee, and +with what mind she looked on Eric. Perchance thou canst remember how +she plotted against thee and Eric—ay, how she thrust thee from Goldfoss +brink. Say, then, wilt thou take her word? Wilt thou take the word of +this witch-daughter of a witch? Wilt thou not think on Groa, her +mother, and of Groa’s dealings with thy father, and with Unna my +kinswoman? As the mother is, so shall the daughter be. Wilt thou cast +Eric aside, and that unheard?” + +“There is no more room for doubt, mother,” said Gudruda. “I have proof +of this: that Eric has forsaken me.” + +“So thou thinkest, child; but I tell thee that thou art wrong! Eric +loves thee now as he loved thee aforetime, and will love thee always.” + +“Would that I could believe it!” said Gudruda. “If I could believe that +Eric still loved me—ay, even though he had been faithless to me—I would +die ere I wed Ospakar!” + +“Thou art foolish, Gudruda, and thou shalt rue thy folly bitterly. I am +outworn, and death draws near to me—far from me now are hates and +loves, hopes and fears; but I know this: that woman is mad who, loving +a man, weds where she loves not. Shame shall be her portion and +bitterness her bread. Unhappy shall she live, and when she comes to +die, but as a wilderness—but as the desolate winter snow, shall be the +record of her days!” + +Now Gudruda wept aloud. “What is done is done,” she cried; “the +bridegroom sits within the hall—the bride awaits him in the bower. What +is done is done—I may hope no more to be saved from Ospakar.” + +“What is done is done, yet it can be brought to nothing; but soon that +shall be done which may never be undone! Gudruda, fare thee well! Never +shall I listen to thy voice again. I hold thee shameless, thou +unfaithful woman, who in thy foolish jealousy art ready to sell thyself +to the arms of one thou hatest! Ho! carles; come hither. Bear me +hence!” + +Now the men came in and took up Saevuna’s chair. Gudruda watched them +bear her forth. Then suddenly she sprang from her seat and ran after +her into the hall, weeping bitterly. + +Now as Saevuna, Eric’s mother, was carried out she was met by Ospakar +and Björn. + +“Stay,” said Björn. “What does this carline here?—and why weeps +Gudruda, my sister?” + +The men halted. “Who calls me ‘carline’?” said Saevuna. “Is the voice I +hear the voice of Björn, Asmund’s son?” + +“It is my voice, truly,” said Björn, “and I would know this—and this +would Ospakar, who stands at my side, know also—why thou comest here, +carline? and why Gudruda weeps?” + +“Gudruda weeps because she has good cause to weep, Björn. She weeps +because she has betrayed her love, Eric Brighteyes, my son, and is +about to be sold in marriage—to be sold to thee, Ospakar Blacktooth, +like a heifer at a fair.” + +Then Björn grew angry and cursed Saevuna, nor did Ospakar spare to add +his ill words. But the old dame sat in her chair, listening silently +till all their curses were spent. + +“Ye are evil, the twain of you,” she said, “and ye have told lies of +Eric, my son; and ye have taken his bride for lust and greed, playing +on the jealous folly of a maid like harpers on a harp. Now I tell you +this, Björn and Ospakar! My blind eyes are opened and I see this hall +of Middalhof, and lo! it is but a gore of blood! Blood flows upon the +board—blood streams along the floor, and ye—ye twain!—lie dead thereon, +and about your shapes are shrouds, and on her feet are Hell-shoon! Eric +comes and Whitefire is aloft, and no more shall ye stand before him +whom ye have slandered than stands the birch before the lightning +stroke! Eric comes! I see his angry eyes—I see his helm flash in the +door-place! Red was that marriage-feast at which sat Unna, my +kinswoman, and Asmund, thy father—redder shall be the feast where sit +Gudruda, thy sister, and Ospakar! The wolf howls at thy door, Björn! +the grave-worm opens his mouth! trolls run to and fro upon thy +threshold, and the ghosts of men speed Hellwards! Ill were the deeds of +Groa—worse shall be the deeds of Groa’s daughter! Red is thy hall with +blood, Björn!—for Whitefire is aloft and—_I tell thee Eric comes!_”—and +with one great cry she fell back—dead. + +Now they stood amazed, and trembling in their fear. + +“Saevuna hath spoken strange words,” said Björn. + +“Shall we be frightened by a dead hag?” quoth Ospakar, drawing his +breath again. “Fellows, bear this carrion forth, or we fling it to the +dogs.” + +Then the men tied the body of Saevuna, Thorgrimur’s widow, Eric’s +mother, fast in the chair, and bore it thence. But when at length they +came to Coldback, they found that Swanhild was there with all her +following, and had driven Eric’s grieve and his folk to the fells. But +one old carline, who had been nurse to Eric, was left there, and she +sat wailing in an outhouse, being too weak to move. + +Then the men set down the corpse of Saevuna in the outhouse, and, +having told all their tale to the carline, they fled also. + +That night passed, and passed the morrow; but on the next day at dawn +Eric Brighteyes and Skallagrim Lambstail landed near Westman Isles. +They had made a bad passage from Fareys, having been beat about by +contrary winds; but at length they came safe and well to land. + +Now this was the day of the marriage-feast of Gudruda the Fair and +Ospakar; but Eric knew nothing of these tidings. + +“Where to now, lord?” said Skallagrim. + +“To Coldback first, to see my mother, if she yet lives, and to learn +tidings of Gudruda. Then as it may chance.” + +Near to the beach was a yeoman’s house. Thither they went to hire +horses; but none were in the house, for all had gone to Gudruda’s +marriage-feast. In the home meadow ran two good horses, and in the +outhouses were saddles and bridles. They caught the horses, saddled +them and rode for Coldback. When they had ridden for something over an +hour they came to the crest of a height whence they could see Coldback +in the Marsh. + +Eric drew rein and looked, and his heart swelled within him at the +sight of the place where he was born. But as he looked he saw a great +train of people ride away from Coldback towards Middalhof—and in the +company a woman wearing a purple cloak. + +“Now what may this mean?” said Eric. + +“Ride on and we shall learn,” answered Skallagrim. + +So they rode on, and as they rode Eric’s breast grew heavy with fear. +Now they passed up the banked way through the home meadows of the +house, but they could see no one; and now they were at the door. Down +sprang Eric and walked into the hall. But none were there to greet him, +though a fire yet burned upon the earth. Only a gaunt hound wandered +about the hall, and, seeing him, sprang towards him, growling. Eric +knew him for his old wolf-hound, and called him by his name. The dog +listened, then ran up and smelt his hands, and straightway howled with +joy and leapt upon him. For a while he leapt thus, while Eric stared +around him wondering and sad at heart. Then the dog ran to the door and +stopped, whining. Eric followed after him. The hound passed through the +entrance, and across the yard till he came to an outhouse. Here the dog +stopped and scratched at the door, still whining. Eric thrust it open. +Lo! there before him sat Saevuna, his mother, dead in a chair, and at +her feet crouched the carline—she who had been Eric’s nurse. + +Now he grasped the door-posts to steady himself, and his shadow fell +upon the white face of his mother and the old carline at her feet. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII +HOW ERIC WAS A GUEST AT THE WEDDING-FEAST OF GUDRUDA THE FAIR + + +Eric looked, but said nothing. + +“Who art thou?” whined the carline, gazing up at him with tear-blinded +eyes. But Eric’s face was in the shadow, and she only saw the glint of +his golden hair and the flash of the golden helm. For Eric could not +speak yet a while. + +“Art thou one of the Swanhild’s folk, come to drive me hence with the +rest? Good sir, I cannot go to the fells, my limbs are too weak. Slay +me, if thou wilt, but drive me not from this,” and she pointed to the +corpse. “Say now, will thou not help me to give it burial? It is unmeet +that she who in her time had husband, and goods, and son, should lie +unburied like a dead cow on the fells. I have still a hundred in +silver, if I might but come at it. It is hidden, sir, and I will pay +thee if thou wilt help me to bury her. These old hands are too feeble +to dig a grave, nor could I bear her there alone if it were dug. Thou +wilt not help me?—then may thine own mother’s bones lie uncovered, and +be picked of gulls and ravens. Oh, that Eric Brighteyes would come home +again! Oh, that Eric was here! there is work to do and never a man to +do it.” + +Now Eric gave a great sob and cried, “Nurse, nurse! knowest thou me +not! _I_ am Eric Brighteyes.” + +She uttered a loud cry, and, clasping him by the knees, looked up into +his face. + +“Thanks be to Odin! Thou art Eric—Eric come home again! But alas, thou +hast come too late!” + +“What has happened, then?” said Eric. + +“What has happened? All evil things. Thou art outlawed, Eric, at the +suit of Swanhild for the slaying of Atli the Earl. Swanhild sits here +in Coldback, for she hath seized thy lands. Saevuna, thy mother, died +two days ago in the hall of Middalhof, whither she went to speak with +Gudruda.” + +“Gudruda! what of Gudruda?” cried Eric. + +“This, Brighteyes: to-day she weds Ospakar Blacktooth.” + +Eric covered his face with his hand. Presently he lifted it. + +“Thou art rich in evil tidings, nurse, though, it would seem, poor in +all besides. Tell me at what hour is the wedding-feast?” + +“An hour after noon, Eric; but now Swanhild has ridden thither with her +company.” + +“Then room must be found at Middalhof for one more guest,” said Eric, +and laughed aloud. “Go on!—pour out thy evil news and spare me not!—for +nothing has any more power to harm me now! Come hither, Skallagrim, and +see and hearken.” + +Skallagrim came and looked on the face of dead Saevuna. + +“I am outlawed at Swanhild’s suit, Lambstail. My life lies in thy hand, +if so be thou wouldst take it! Hew off my head, if thou wilt, and bear +it to Gudruda the Fair—she will thank thee for the gift. Lay on, +Lambstail; lay on with that axe of thine.” + +“Child’s talk!” said Skallagrim. + +“Child’s talk, but man’s work! Thou hast not heard the tale out. +Swanhild hath seized my lands and sits here at Coldback! And—what +thinkest thou, Skallagrim?—but now she has ridden a-guesting to the +marriage-feast of Ospakar Blacktooth with Gudruda the Fair! Swanhild at +Gudruda’s wedding!—the eagle in the wild swan’s nest! But there will be +another guest,” and again he laughed aloud. + +“_Two_ other guests,” said Skallagrim. + +“More of thy tale, old nurse!—more of thy tale!” quoth Eric. “No better +didst thou ever tell me when, as a lad, I sat by thee, in the ingle o’ +winter nights—and the company is fitting to the tale!” and he pointed +to dead Saevuna. + +Then the carline told on. She told how Hall of Lithdale had come out to +Iceland, and of the story that he bore to Gudruda, and of the giving of +the lock of hair. + +“What did I say, lord?” broke in Skallagrim—“that in Hall thou hadst +let a weasel go who would live to nip thee?” + +“Him I will surely live to shorten by a head,” quoth Eric. + +“Nay, lord, this one for me—Ospakar for thee, Hall for me!” + +“As thou wilt, Baresark. Among so many there is room to pick and +choose. Tell on, nurse!” + +Then she told how Swanhild came out to Iceland, and, having won Ospakar +Blacktooth and Gizur to her side, had laid a suit against Eric at the +Thing, and there bore false witness against him, so that Brighteyes was +declared outlaw, being absent. She told, too, how Gudruda had betrothed +herself to Ospakar, and how Swanhild had moved down to Coldback and +seized the lands. Lastly she told of the rising of Saevuna from her +deathbed, of her going to Middalhof, of the words she spoke to Björn +and Ospakar, and of her death in the hall at Middalhof. + +When all was told, Eric stooped and kissed the cold brow of his mother. + +“There is little time to bury thee now, my mother,” he said, “and +perchance before six hours are sped there will be one to bury at thy +side. Nevertheless, thou shalt sit in a better place than this.” + +Then he cut loose the cords that bound the body of Saevuna to the +chair, and, lifting it in his arms, bore it to the hall. There he set +the corpse in the high seat of the hall. + +“We need not start yet a while, Skallagrim,” said Eric, “if indeed thou +wouldst go a-guesting with me to Middalhof. Therefore let us eat and +drink, for there are deeds to do this day.” + +So they found meat and mead and ate and drank. Then Eric washed +himself, combed out his golden locks, and looked well to his harness +and to Whitefire’s edge. Skallagrim also ground his great axe upon the +whetstone in the yard, singing as he ground. When all was ready, the +horses were caught, and Eric spoke to the carline: + +“Hearken, nurse. If it may be that thou canst find any of our folk—and +perchance now that they see that Swanhild has ridden to Middalhof some +one of them will come down to spy—thou shalt say this to them. Thou +shalt say that, if Eric Brighteyes yet lives, he will be at the foot of +Mosfell to-morrow before midday, and if, for the sake of old days and +fellowship, they are minded to befriend a friendless man, let them come +thither with food, for by then food will be needed, and I will speak +with them. And now farewell,” and Eric kissed her and went, leaving her +weeping. + +As it chanced, before another hour was sped, Jon, Eric’s thrall, who +had stayed at home in Iceland, seeing Coldback empty, crept down from +the fells and looked in. The carline saw him, and told him these +tidings. Then he went thence to find the other men. Having found them +he told them Eric’s words, and a great gladness came upon them when +they learned that Brighteyes still lived, and was in Iceland. Then they +gathered food and gear, and rode away to the foot of Mosfell that is +now called Ericsfell. + +Ospakar sat in the hall at Middalhof, near to the high seat. He was +fully armed, and a black helm with a raven’s crest was on his head. +For, though he said nothing of it, not a little did he fear that +Saevuna spoke sooth—that her words would come true, and, before this +day was done, he and Eric should once more stand face to face. At his +side sat Gudruda the Fair, robed in white, a worked head-dress on her +head, golden clasps upon her breast and golden rings about her arms. +Never had she been more beautiful to see; but her face was whiter than +her robes. She looked with loathing on Blacktooth at her side, rough +like a bear, and hideous as a troll. But he looked on her with longing, +and laughed from side to side of his great mouth when he thought that +at last he had got her for his own. + +“Ah, if Eric would but come, faithless though he be!—if Eric would but +come!” thought Gudruda; but no Eric came to save her. The guests +gathered fast, and presently Swanhild swept in with all her company, +wrapped about in her purple cloak. She came up to the high seat where +Gudruda sat, and bent the knee before her, looking on her with lovely +mocking face and hate in her blue eyes. + +“Greeting, Gudruda, my sister!” she said. “When last we met I sat, +Atli’s bride, where to-day thou sittest the bride of Ospakar. Then Eric +Brighteyes held thy hand, and little thou didst think of wedding +Ospakar. Now Eric is afar—so strangely do things come about—and +Blacktooth, Brighteyes’ foe, holds that fair hand of thine.” + +Gudruda looked on her and turned whiter yet in her pain, but she +answered never a word. + +“What! no word for me, sister?” said Swanhild. “And yet it is through +me that thou comest to this glad hour. It is through me that thou art +rid of Eric, and it is I who have given thee to the arms of mighty +Ospakar. No word of thanks for so great a service!—fie on thee, +Gudruda! fie!” + +Then Gudruda spoke: “Strange tales are told of thee and Eric, Groa’s +daughter! I have done with Eric, but I have done with thee also. Thou +hast thrust thyself here against my will and, if I may, I would see thy +face no more.” + +“Wouldst thou see Eric’s face, Gudruda?—say, wouldst see Eric’s face? I +tell thee it is fair!” + +But Gudruda answered nothing, and Swanhild fell back, laughing. + +Now the feast began, and men waxed merry. But ever Gudruda’s heart grew +heavier, for in it echoed those words that Saevuna had spoken. Her eyes +were dim, and she seemed to see naught but the face of Eric as it had +looked when he came back to her that day on the brink of Goldfoss Falls +and she had thought him dead. Oh! what if he still loved her and were +yet true at heart? Swanhild mocked her!—what if this was a plot of +Swanhild’s? Had not Swanhild plotted aforetime, and could a wolf cease +from ravening or a witch from witch-work? Nay, she had seen Eric’s +hair—that he had sworn none save she should touch! Perchance he had +been drugged, and the hair shorn from him in his sleep? Too late to +think! Of what use was thought?—beside her sat Ospakar, in one short +hour she would be his. Ah! that she could see him dead—the troll who +had trafficked her to shame, the foe she had summoned in her wrath and +jealousy! She had done ill—she had fallen into Swanhild’s snare, and +now Swanhild came to mock her! + +The feast went on—cup followed cup. Now they poured the bride-cup! +Before her heart beat two hundred times she would be the wife of +Ospakar! + +Blacktooth took the cup—pledged her in it, and drank deep. Then he +turned and strove to kiss her. But Gudruda shrank from him with horror +in her eyes, and all men wondered. Still she must drink the bridal cup. +She took it. Dimly she saw the upturned faces, faintly she heard the +murmur of a hundred voices. + +What was that voice she caught above them all—there—without the hall? + +Holding the cup in her hand, Gudruda bent forward, staring down the +skali. Then she cried aloud, pointing to the door, and the cup fell +clattering from her hand and rolled along the ground. + +Men turned and looked. They saw this: there on the threshold stood a +man, glorious to look at, and from his winged helm of gold the rays of +light flashed through the dusky hall. The man was great and beautiful +to see. He had long yellow hair bound in about his girdle, and in his +left hand he held a pointed shield, in his right a spear, and at his +thigh there hung a mighty sword. Nor was he alone, for by his side, a +broad axe on his shoulder and shield in hand, stood another man, clad +in black-hued mail—a man well-nigh as broad and big, with hawk’s eyes, +eagle beak, and black hair streaked with grey. + +For a moment there was silence. Then a voice spoke: + +“Lo! here be the Gods Baldur and Thor!—come from Valhalla to grace the +marriage-feast!” + +Then the man with golden hair cried aloud in a voice that made the +rafters ring: + +“Here are Eric Brighteyes and Skallagrim Lambstail, his thrall, come +from over sea to grace the feast, indeed!” + +“I could have looked for no worse guests,” said Björn, beneath his +breath, and rose to bid men thrust them out. But before he could speak, +lo! gold-helmed Eric and black-helmed Skallagrim were stalking up the +length of that great hall. Side by side they stalked, with faces fierce +and cold; nor stayed they till they stood before the high seat. Eric +looked up and round, and the light of his eyes was as the light of a +sword. Men marvelled at his greatness and his wonderful beauty, and to +Gudruda he seemed like a God. + +“Here I see faces that are known to me,” said Eric. “Greetings, +comrades!” + +“Greetings, Brighteyes!” shouted the Middalhof folk and the company of +Swanhild; but the carles of Ospakar laid hand on sword—they too knew +Eric. For still all men loved Eric, and the people of his quarter were +proud of the deeds he had done oversea. + +“Greeting, Björn, Asmund’s son!” quoth Eric. “Greeting, Ospakar +Blacktooth! Greeting, Swanhild the Fatherless, Atli’s witch-wife—Groa’s +witch-bairn! Greeting, Hall of Lithdale, Hall the liar—Hall who cut the +grapnel-chain! And to thee, sweet Bride, to thee Gudruda the Fair, +greeting!” + +Now Björn spoke: “I will take no greeting from a shamed and outlawed +man. Get thee gone, Eric Brighteyes, and take thy wolf-hound with thee, +lest thou bidest here stiff and cold.” + +“Speak not so loud, rat, lest hound’s fang worry thee!” growled +Skallagrim. + +But Eric laughed aloud and cried— + +“Words must be said, and perchance men shall die, ere ever I leave this +hall, Björn!” + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV +HOW THE FEAST WENT + + +“Hearken all men!” said Eric. + +“Thrust him out!” quoth Björn. + +“Nay, cut him down!” said Ospakar, “he is an outlawed man.” + +“Words first, then deeds,” answered Skallagrim. “Thou shalt have thy +fill of both, Blacktooth, before day is done.” + +“Let Eric say his say,” said Gudruda, lifting her head. “He has been +doomed unheard, and it is my will that he shall say his say.” + +“What hast thou to do with Eric?” snarled Ospakar. + +“The bride-cup is not yet drunk, lord,” she answered. + +“To thee, then, I will speak, lady,” quoth Eric. “How comes it that, +being betrothed to me, thou dost sit there the bride of Ospakar?” + +“Ask of Swanhild,” said Gudruda in a low voice. “Ask also of Hall of +Lithdale yonder, who brought me Swanhild’s gift from Straumey.” + +“I must ask much of Hall and he must answer much,” said Eric. “What +tale, then, did he bring thee from Straumey?” + +“He said this, Eric,” Gudruda answered: “that thou wast Swanhild’s +love; that for Swanhild’s sake thou hadst basely killed Atli the Good, +and that thou wast about to wed Swanhild’s self and take the Earl’s +seat in Orkneys.” + +“And for what cause was I made outlaw at the Althing?” + +“For this cause, Eric,” said Björn, “that thou hadst dealt evilly with +Swanhild, bringing her to shame against her will, and thereafter that +thou hadst slain the Earl, her husband.” + +“Which, then, of these tales is true? for both cannot be true,” said +Brighteyes. “Speak, Swanhild.” + +“Thou knowest well that the last is true,” said Swanhild boldly. + +“How then comes it that thou didst charge Hall with that message to +Gudruda? How then comes it that thou didst send her the lock of hair +which thou didst cozen me to give thee?” + +“I charged Hall with no message, and I sent no lock of hair,” Swanhild +answered. + +“Stand thou forward, Hall!” said Eric, “and liar and coward though thou +art, dare not to speak other than the truth! Nay, look not at the door: +for, if thou stirrest, this spear shall find thee before thou hast gone +a pace!” + +Now Hall stood forward, trembling with fear, for he saw the eye of +Skallagrim watching him close, and while Lambstail watched, his fingers +toyed with the handle of his axe. + +“It is true, lord, that Swanhild charged me with that message which I +gave to the Lady Gudruda. Also she bade me give the lock of hair.” + +“And for this service thou didst take money, Hall?” + +“Ay, lord, she gave me money for my faring.” + +“And all the while thou knewest the tidings false?” + +Hall made no reply. + +“Answer!” thundered Eric—“answer the truth, knave, or by every God that +passes the hundred gates I will not spare thee twice!” + +“It is so, lord,” said Hall. + +“Thou liest, fox!” cried Swanhild, white with wrath and casting a +fierce look upon Hall. But men took no heed of Swanhild’s words, for +all eyes were bent on Eric. + +“Is it now your pleasure, comrades, that I should tell you the truth?” +said Brighteyes. + +The most part of the company shouted “Yea!” but the men of Ospakar +stood silent. + +“Speak on, Eric,” quoth Gudruda. + +“This is the truth, then: Swanhild the Fatherless, Atli’s wife, has +always sought my love, and she has ever hated Gudruda whom I loved. +From a child she has striven to work mischief between us. Ay, and she +did this, though till now it has been hidden: she strove to murder +Gudruda; it was on the day that Skallagrim and I overcame Ospakar and +his band on Horse-Head Heights. She thrust Gudruda from the brink of +Golden Falls while she sat looking on the waters, and as she hung there +I dragged her back. Is it not so, Gudruda?” + +“It is so,” said Gudruda. + +Now men murmured and looked at Swanhild. But she shrank back, plucking +at her purple cloak. + +“It was for this cause,” said Eric, “that Asmund, Swanhild’s father, +gave her choice to wed Atli the Earl and pass over sea or to take her +trial in the Doom-Ring. She wedded Atli and went away. Afterwards, by +witchcraft, she brought my ship to wreck on Straumey’s Isle—ay, she +walked the waters like a shape of light and lured us on to ruin, so +that all were drowned except Skallagrim and myself. Is it not so, +Skallagrim?” + +“It is so, lord. I saw her with my eyes.” + +Again folk murmured. + +“Then we must sit in Atli’s hall,” said Eric, “and there we dwelt last +winter. For a while Swanhild did no harm, till I feared her no more. +But some three months ago, I was left with her: and a man called Koll, +Groa’s thrall, of whom ye know, came out from Iceland, bringing news of +the death of Asmund the priest, of Unna my cousin, and of Groa the +witch. To these ill-tidings Swanhild bribed him to add something. She +bribed him to add this: that thou, Gudruda, wast betrothed to Ospakar, +and wouldst wed him on last Yule Day. Moreover, he gave me a certain +message from thee, Gudruda, and, in token of its truth, the half of +that coin which I broke with thee long years ago. Say now, lady, didst +thou send the coin?” + +“Nay, never!” cried Gudruda; “many years ago I lost the half thou +gavest me, though I feared to tell thee.” + +“Perchance one stands there who found it,” said Eric, pointing with his +spear at Swanhild. “At the least I was deceived by it. Now the tale is +short. Swanhild mourned with me, and in my sorrow I mourned bitterly. +Then it was she asked a boon, that lock of mine, Gudruda, and, thinking +thee faithless, I gave it, holding all oaths broken. Then too, when I +would have left her, she drugged me with a witch-draught—ay, she +drugged me, and I woke to find myself false to my oath, false to Atli, +and false to thee, Gudruda. I cursed her and I left her, waiting for +the Earl, to tell him all. But Swanhild outwitted me. She told him that +other tale of shame that ye have heard, and brought Koll to him as +witness of the tale. Atli was deceived by her, and not until I had cut +him down in anger at the bitter words he spoke, calling me coward and +niddering, did he know the truth. But before he died he knew it; and he +died, holding my hand and bidding those about him find Koll and slay +him. Is it not so, ye who were Atli’s men?” + +“It is so, Eric!” they cried; “we heard it with our own ears, and we +slew Koll. But afterwards Swanhild brought us to believe that Earl Atli +was distraught when he spoke thus, and that things were indeed as she +had said.” + +Again men murmured, and a strange light shone in Gudruda’s eyes. + +“Now, Gudruda, thou hast heard all my story,” said Eric. “Say, dost +thou believe me?” + +“I believe thee, Eric.” + +“Say then, wilt thou still wed yon Ospakar?” + +Gudruda looked on Blacktooth, then she looked at golden Eric and opened +her lips to speak. But before a word could pass them Ospakar rose in +wrath, laying his hand upon his sword. + +“Thinkest thou thus to lure away my dove, outlaw? First I will see thee +food for crows.” + +“Well spoken, Blacktooth,” laughed Eric. “I waited for such words from +thee. Thrice have we striven together—once out yonder in the snow, once +on Horse-Head Heights, and once by Westman Isles—and still we live to +tell the tale. Come down, Ospakar: come down from that soft seat of +thine and here and now let us put it to the proof who is the better +man. When we met before, the stake was Whitefire set against my eye. +Now the stake is our lives and fair Gudruda’s hand. Talk no more, +Ospakar, but fall to it.” + +“Gudruda shall never wed thee, while I live!” said Björn; “thou art a +landless loon, a brawler, and an outlaw. Get thee gone, Eric, with thy +wolf-hound!” + +“Squeak not so loud, rat—squeak not so loud, lest hound’s fang worry +thee!” said Skallagrim. + +“Whether I wed Gudruda or whether I wed her not is a matter that shall +be known in its season,” said Eric. “For thy words, I say this: that it +is risky to hurl names at such as I am, Björn, lest perchance I answer +them with spear-thrusts. Thy answer, Ospakar! What need to wait? Thy +answer!” + +Now Ospakar looked at Brighteyes and grew afraid. He was a mighty man, +but he knew the weight of Eric’s arm. + +“I will not fight with thee, carle,” he said, “who hast naught to +lose.” + +“Then thou art coward and niddering!” said Eric. “Ospakar _Niddering_ I +name thee here before all men! What! thou couldst plot against me—thou +couldst waylay me, ten to one and two ships to one, but face to face +with me alone thou dost not dare to stand? Comrades, look on your +lord!—look at Ospakar the _Niddering!_” + +Now the swarthy brow of Blacktooth grew red with rage, and his breath +came in great gasps. “Ho, men!” he cried, “drive this knave away. Strip +his harness off him and whip him hence with rods.” + +“Let but a man stir towards me and this spear flies through thy heart, +Niddering,” cried Eric. “Gudruda, what thinkest thou of thy lord?” + +“I know this,” said Gudruda, “that I will not wed a man who is named +‘Niddering’ in the face of all and lifts no sword.” + +Gudruda spoke thus, because she was mad with love and fear and shame, +and she desired that Eric should stand face to face with Ospakar +Blacktooth, for thus, alone, she might perhaps be rid of Ospakar. + +“Such words do not come well from gentle lips,” said Björn. + +“Is it to be borne, brother,” answered Gudruda, “that the man who would +call me wife should be named Ospakar the Niddering? When that shame is +washed away, and then only, can I think on marriage. I will never be +Niddering’s bride!” + +“Thou hearest, Ospakar Niddering?” said Eric. Then he gave the spear in +his hand to Skallagrim, and, gripping Whitefire’s hilt, he burst the +peace-strings, and tore it from the scabbard. + +Now the great sword shone on high like lightning leaping from a cloud, +and as it shone men shouted, “_Ospakar! Ospakar Niddering!_ Come, win +back Whitefire from Eric’s hand, or be for ever shamed!” + +Blacktooth could endure this no more. He snatched sword and shield, +and, like a bear from a cave, like a wolf from his lair, rushed roaring +from his seat. On he came, and the ground shook beneath his bulk. + +“At last, Niddering!” cried Eric, and sprang to meet him. + +“Back! all men, back!” shouted Skallagrim, “now we shall see blows.” + +As he spoke the great swords flashed aloft and clanged upon the iron +shields. So heavy were the blows that fire leapt out from them. Ospakar +reeled back beneath the shock, and Eric was beaten to his knee. Now he +was up, but as he rushed, Ospakar struck again and swept away half of +Brighteyen’s pointed shield so that it fell upon the floor. Eric smote +also, but Ospakar dropped his knee to earth and the sword hissed over +him. Blacktooth cut at Eric’s legs; but Brighteyes sprang from the +ground and took no harm. + +Now some cried, “_Eric! Eric!_” and some cried “_Ospakar! Ospakar!_” +for no one knew how the fight would go. + +Gudruda sat watching in the high seat, and as blows fell her colour +came and went. + +Swanhild drew near, watching also, and she desired in her fierce heart +to see Eric brought to shame and death, for, should he win, then +Gudruda would be rid of Ospakar. Now by her side stood Gizur, Ospakar’s +son, and near to her was Björn. These two held their breath, for, if +Eric conquered, all their plans were brought to nothing. + +Even as he sprang into the air, Eric smote down with all his strength. +The blow fell on Ospakar’s shield. It shore through the shield and +struck on the shoulder beneath. But Blacktooth’s byrnie was good, nor +did the sword bite into it. Still the stroke was so heavy that Ospakar +staggered back four paces beneath it, then fell upon the ground. + +Now folk raised a shout of “_Eric! Eric!_” for it seemed that Ospakar +was sped. Brighteyes, too, cried aloud, then rushed forward. Now, as he +came, Swanhild whispered an eager word into the ear of Björn. By +Björn’s foot lay that half of Eric’s shield which had been shorn away +by the sword of Ospakar. Gudruda, watching, saw Björn push it with his +shoe so that it slid before the feet of Brighteyes. His right foot +caught on it, he stumbled heavily—stumbled again, then fell prone on +his face, and, as he fell, stretched out his sword hand to save +himself, so that Whitefire flew from his grasp. The blade struck its +hilt against the ground, then circled in the air and fixed itself, +point downwards, in the clay of the flooring. The hand of Ospakar +rising from the ground smote against the hilt of Whitefire. He saw it, +with a shout he cast his own sword away and clasped Whitefire. + +Away circled the sword of Ospakar; and of that cast this strange thing +is told, false or true. Far in the corner of the hall lurked Thorunna, +she who had betrayed Skallagrim when he was named Ounound. She had come +with a heavy heart to Middalhof in the company of Ospakar; but when she +saw Skallagrim, her husband—whom she had betrayed, and who had turned +Baresark because of her wickedness—shame smote her, and she crept away +and hid herself behind the hangings of the hall. The sword sped along +point first, it rushed like a spear through the air. It fell on the +hangings, piercing them, piercing the heart of Thorunna, who cowered +behind them, so that with one cry she sank dead to earth, slain by her +lover’s hand. + +Now when men saw that Ospakar once more held Whitefire in his +hand—Whitefire that Brighteyes had won from him—they called aloud that +it was an omen. The sword of Blacktooth had come back to Blacktooth and +now Eric would surely be slain of it! + +Eric sprang from the ground. He heard the shouts and saw Whitefire +blazing in Ospakar’s hand. + +“Now thou art weaponless, fly! Brighteyes; fly!” cried some. + +Gudruda’s cheek grew white with fear, and for a moment Eric’s heart +failed him. + +“Fly not!” roared Skallagrim. “Björn tripped thee. Yet hast thou half a +shield!” + +Ospakar rushed on, and Whitefire flickered over Eric’s helm. Down it +came and shore one wing from the helm. Again it shone and fell, but +Brighteyes caught the blow on his broken shield. + +Then, while men waited to see him slain, Eric gave a great war-shout +and sprang forward. + +“Thou art mad!” shouted the folk. + +“Ye shall see! Ye shall see!” screamed Skallagrim. + +Again Ospakar smote and again Eric caught the blow; and behold! he +struck back, thrusting with the point of the shorn shield straight at +the face of Ospakar. + +“_Peck! Eagle; peck!_” cried Skallagrim. + +Once more Whitefire shone above him. Eric rushed in beneath the sword, +and with all his mighty strength thrust the buckler-point at +Blacktooth’s face. It struck fair and full, and lo! the helm of Ospakar +burst asunder. He threw wide his giant arms, then fell as a pine falls +upon the mountain edge. He fell back, and he lay still. + +But Eric, stooping over him, took Whitefire from his hand. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV +HOW THE FEAST ENDED + + +For a moment there was silence in the hall, for men had known no such +fight as this. + +“Why, then, do ye gape?” laughed Skallagrim, pointing with the spear. +“Dead is Ospakar!—slain by the swordless man! Eric Brighteyes hath +slain Ospakar Blacktooth!” + +Then there went up such a shout as never was heard in the hall of +Middalhof. + +Now when Gudruda knew that Ospakar was sped, she looked at Eric as he +rested, leaning on his sword, and her heart was filled with awe and +love. She sprang from her seat, and, coming to where Brighteyes stood, +she greeted him. + +“Welcome to Iceland, Eric!” she said. “Welcome, thou glory of the +south!” + +Now Swanhild grew wild, for she saw that Eric was about to take Gudruda +in his arms and kiss her before all men. + +“Say, Björn,” she cried; “wilt thou suffer that this outlaw, having +slain Ospakar, should lead Gudruda hence as wife?” + +“He shall never do so while I live,” cried Björn, nearly mad with rage. +“This is my command, sister: that thou dost see Eric no more.” + +“Say, Björn,” answered Gudruda, “did I dream, or did I indeed see thee +thrust the broken buckler before Eric’s feet, so that he stumbled on it +and fell?” + +“That thou sawest, lady,” said Skallagrim; “for I saw it also.” + +Now Björn grew white in his anger. He did not answer Gudruda, but +called aloud to his men to slay Eric and Skallagrim. Gizur called also +to the folk of Ospakar, and Swanhild to those who came with her. + +Then Gudruda fled back to her seat. + +But Eric cried aloud also: “Ye who love me, cleave to me. Suffer it not +that Brighteyes be cut down of northerners and outland men. Hear me, +Atli’s folk; hear me, carles of Coldback and of Middalhof!” + +And so greatly did many love Eric that half of the thralls of Björn, +and almost all of the company of Swanhild who had been Atli’s +shield-men and Brighteyes’ comrades, drew swords, shouting “Eric! +Eric!” But the carles of Ospakar came on to make an end of him. + +Björn saw, and, drawing sword, smote at Brighteyes, taking him +unawares. But Skallagrim caught the blow upon his axe, and before Björn +could smite again Whitefire was aloft and down fell Björn, dead! + +That was the end of Björn, Asmund’s son. + +“Thou hast squeaked thy last, rat! What did I tell thee?” cried +Skallagrim. “Take Björn’s shield and back to back, lord, for here come +foes.” + +“There goes one,” answered Eric, pointing to the door. + +Now Hall of Lithdale slunk through the doorway—Hall, the liar, who cut +the grapnel-chain—for he wished to see the last of Skallagrim. But the +Baresark still held Eric’s spear in his hand. He whirled it aloft, and +it hissed through the air. The aim was good, for, as he crept away, the +spear struck Hall between neck and shoulder, pinning him to the +doorpost, and there the liar died. + +“Now the weasel is nailed to the beam,” said Skallagrim. “Hall of +Lithdale, what did I promise thee?” + +“Guard thy head and my back,” quoth Eric; “blows fall!” + +Now men smote at Eric and Skallagrim, nor did they spare to smite in +turn. And as foes fell before him, Eric stepped one pace forward +towards the door, and Skallagrim, who, back to back with him, held off +those who pressed behind, took one step rearwards. Thus, a foe for +every step, they won their way down the long hall. Fierce raged the +fray around them, for, mad with hate and drink and the lust of fight, +Swanhild’s folk—Eric’s friends—remembering the words of Atli, fell on +Ospakar’s; and the people of Björn fell on each other, brother on +brother, and father on son—nor might the fray be stayed. The boards +were overthrown, dead men lay among the meats and mead, and the blood +of freeman, lord and thrall ran adown the floor. Everywhere through the +dusky hall glittered the sheen of flashing swords and rose the clang of +war. Darts clove the air like tongues of flame, and the clamour of +battle beat against the roof. + +Blinded of the Norns who brought these things to pass, men sought no +mercy and they gave none, but smote and slew till few were left to +slay. + +And still Gudruda sat in her bride-seat, and, with eyes fixed in +horror, watched the waxing of the war. Near to her stood Swanhild, +marking all things with a fierce-set face, and calling down curses on +her folk, who one and all cried “Eric! Eric!” and swept the thralls of +Ospakar as corn is swept of the sickle. + +And there, nigh to the door, pale of face and beautiful to see, golden +Eric clove his way, and with him went black Skallagrim. Terrible was +the flare of Whitefire as he flicked aloft like the levin in the cloud. +Terrible was the flare of Whitefire; but more terrible was the light of +Eric’s eyes, for they seemed to flame in his head, and wherever that +fire fell it lighted men the way to death. Whitefire sung and +flickered, and crashed the axe of Skallagrim, and still through the +press of war they won their way. Now Gizur stands before them, spear +aloft, and Whitefire leaps up to meet him. Lo! he turns and flies. The +coward son of Ospakar does not seek the fate of Ospakar! + +The door is won. They stand without but little harmed, while women wail +aloud. + +“To horse!” cried Skallagrim; “to horse, ere our luck fail us!” + +“There is no luck in this,” gasped Eric; “for I have slain many men, +and among them is Björn, the brother of her whom I would make my +bride.” + +“Better one such fight than many brides,” said Skallagrim, shaking his +red axe. “We have won great glory this day, Brighteyes, and Ospakar is +dead—slain by a swordless man!” + +Now Eric and Skallagrim ran to their horses, none hindering them, and, +mounting, rode towards Mosfell. + +All that evening and all the night they rode, and at morning they came +across the black sand to Mosfell slopes that are by the Hecla. Here +they rested, and, taking off their armour, washed themselves in the +stream: for they were very weary and foul with blood and wounds. When +they had finished washing and had buckled on their harness again, +Skallagrim, peering across the plain with his hawk’s eyes, saw men +riding fast towards them. + +“Foes are soon afoot, lord,” he said. “I thought we had stayed their +hunger for a while.” + +“Would that I might stay mine,” quoth Eric. “I am weary, and unfit for +fight.” + +“I have still strength for one or two,” said Skallagrim, “and then +good-night! But these are no foes. They are of the Coldback folk. The +carline has kept her word.” + +Then Eric was glad, and presently six men, headed by Jon his thrall, +the same man who had watched on Mosfell when Eric went up to slay the +Baresark, rode to them and greeted them. “Beggar women,” said Jon, +“whom they met at Ran River, had told them of the death of Ospakar, and +of the great slaying at Middalhof, and they would know if the tidings +were true.” + +“It is true, Jon,” said Eric; “but first give us food, if ye have it, +for we are hungered and spent. When we have eaten we will speak.” + +So they led up a pack-horse and from it took stockfish and smoked meat, +of which Eric and Skallagrim ate heartily, till their strength came +back to them. + +Then Eric spoke. “Comrades,” he said, “I am an outlawed man, and, +though I have not sought it, much blood is on my head. Atli is dead at +my hand; Ospakar is dead at my hand; Björn the Priest, Asmund’s son, is +dead at my hand, and with them many another man. Nor may the matter +stay here, for Gizur, Blacktooth’s son, yet lives, and Björn has kin in +the south, and Swanhild will buy friends with gold, and all of these +will set on me to slay me, so that at the last I die by the sword.” + +“No need for that,” said Skallagrim. “Our vengeance is wrought, and +now, as before, the sea is open, and I think that a welcome awaits us +in London.” + +“Now Gudruda is widowed before she was fully wed,” said Eric, +“therefore I bide an outlawed man here in Iceland. I go hence no more, +though it be death to stay, unless indeed Gudruda the Fair goes with +me.” + +“It will be death, then,” said Skallagrim, “and the swords are forged +that we shall feel. The odds are too heavy, lord.” + +“Mayhap,” answered Eric. “No man may flee his fate, and I shall not +altogether grieve when mine finds me. Hearken, comrades: I go up to +Mosfell height, and there I stay, till those be found who can drag me +from my hole. But this is my counsel to you: that ye leave me to my +doom, for I am an unlucky man who always chooses the wrong road.” + +“That will not I,” said Skallagrim. + +“Nor we,” said Eric’s folk; “Swanhild holds Coldback, and we are driven +to the fells. To the fells then we will go with thee, Eric Brighteyes, +and become cave-dwellers and outlaws for thy sake. Fear not, thou shalt +still find many friends.” + +“I did not look for such a thing at your hands,” said Eric; “but stormy +waters show how the boat is built. May no bad luck come to you from +your good fellowship. And now let us to our nest.” + +Then they caught the horses, and rode with Brighteyes up the steep side +of Mosfell, till at length they came to that secret dell which +Skallagrim had once shown to Eric. Here they turned the horses loose to +feed, and, going forward on foot, reached the dark and narrow pass that +Brighteyes had trod when he sought for the Baresark foe. Skallagrim led +the way along it, then came Eric and the rest. One by one they stepped +on to the giddy point of rock, and, catching at the birch-bush, entered +the hole. So they gained the platform and the great cave beyond; and +they found that no man had set foot there since the day when Eric had +striven with Skallagrim. For there on the rock, rotten with the +weather, lay that haft of wood which Brighteyes had hewed from the axe +of Skallagrim, and in the cave were many things beside as the Baresark +had left them. + +So they took up their dwelling in the cave, Eric, Skallagrim, and the +six Coldback men, and there they dwelt many months. But Eric sent out +his men, one at a time, and got together food and a store of +sheepskins, and other needful things. For he knew this well: that Gizur +and Swanhild would before long come up against them, and, if they could +not take them by force, would set themselves to watch the mountain-path +and starve them out. + +When Eric and Skallagrim rode away from Middalhof the fight still raged +fiercely in the hall, and nothing but death might stay it. The minds of +men were mad, and they smote one another, and slew each other, till at +length of all that marriage company few were left unharmed, except +Gizur, Swanhild, and Gudruda. For the serving thralls and womenfolk had +fled the hall, and with them some peaceful men. + +Then Gudruda spoke as one in a dream. + +“Saevuna’s prophecy was true,” she said, “red was the marriage-feast of +Asmund my father, redder has been the marriage-feast of Ospakar! She +saw the hall of Middalhof one gore of blood, and lo! it is so; look +upon thy work, Swanhild,” and she pointed to the piled-up dead—“look +upon thy work, witch-sister, and grow fearful: for all this death is on +thy head!” + +Swanhild laughed aloud. “I think it a merry sight,” she cried. “The +marriage-feast of Asmund our father was red, and thy marriage-feast, +Gudruda, has been redder. Would that thy blood and the blood of Eric +ran with the blood of Björn and Ospakar! That tale must yet be told, +Gudruda. There shall be binding on of Hell-shoes at Middalhof, but I +bind them not. My task is still to come: for I will live to fasten the +Hell-shoes on the feet of Eric, and on thy feet, Gudruda! At the least, +I have brought about this much, that thou canst scarcely wed Eric the +outlaw: for with his own hand he slew Björn our brother, and because of +this I count all that death as nothing. Thou canst not mate with +Brighteyes, lest the wide wounds of Björn thy brother should take +tongues and cry thy shame from sea to sea!” + +Gudruda made no answer, but sat as one carved in stone. Then Swanhild +spoke again: + +“Let us away to the north, Gizur; there to gather strength to make an +end of Eric. Say, wilt thou help us, Gudruda? The blood-feud for the +death of Björn is thine.” + +“Ye are enough to bring about the fall of one unfriended man,” Gudruda +said. “Go, and leave me with my sorrow and the dead. Nay! before thou +goest, listen, Swanhild, for there is that in my heart which tells me I +shall never look again upon thy face. From evil to evil thou hast ever +gone, Swanhild, and from evil to evil thou wilt go. It may well chance +that thy wickedness will win. It may well chance that thou wilt crown +thy crimes with my slaying and the slaying of the man who loves me. But +I tell thee this, traitress—murderess, as thou art—that here the tale +ends not. Not by death, Swanhild, shalt thou escape the deeds of life! +_There_ they shall rise up against thee, and _there_ every shame that +thou hast worked, every sin that thou hast sinned, and every soul that +thou hast brought to Hela’s halls, shall come to haunt thee and to +drive thee on from age to age! That witchcraft which thou lovest shall +mesh thee. Shadows shall bewilder thee; from the bowl of empty longings +thou shalt drink and drink, and not be satisfied. Yea! lusts shall mock +and madden thee. Thou shalt ride the winds, thou shalt sail the seas, +but thou shalt find no harbour, and never shalt thou set foot upon a +shore of peace. + +“Go on, Swanhild—dye those hands in blood—wade through the river of +shame! Seek thy desire, and finding, lose! Work thy evil, and winning, +fail! I yet shall triumph—I yet shall trample thee; and, in a place to +come, with Eric at my side, I shall make a mock of Swanhild the +murderess! Swanhild the liar, and the wanton, and the witch! Now get +thee gone!” + +Swanhild heard. She looked up at Gudruda’s face and it was alight as +with a fire. She strove to answer, but no words came. Then Groa’s +daughter turned and went, and with her went Gizur. + +Now women and thralls came in and drew out the wounded and those who +still breathed from among the dead, taking them to the temple. They +bore away the body of Ospakar also, but they left the rest. + +All night long Gudruda sat in the bride’s seat. There she sat in the +silver summer midnight, looking on the slain who were strewn about the +great hall. All night she sat alone in the bride’s seat thinking—ever +thinking. + +How, then, would it end? There her brother Björn lay a-cold—Björn the +justly slain of Brighteyes; yet how could she wed the man who slew her +brother? From Ospakar she was divorced by death; from Eric she was +divorced by the blood of Björn her brother! How might she unravel this +tangled skein and float to weal upon this sea of death? All things went +amiss! The doom was on her! She had lived to an ill purpose—her love +had wrought evil! What availed it to have been born to be fair among +women and to have desired that which might not be? And she herself had +brought these things to pass—she had loosed the rock which crushed her! +Why had she hearkened to that false tale? + +Gudruda sat on high in the bride’s seat, asking wisdom of the piled-up +dead, while the cold blue shadows of the nightless night gathered over +her and them—gathered, and waned, and grew at last to the glare of day. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI +HOW ERIC VENTURED DOWN TO MIDDALHOF AND WHAT HE FOUND + + +Gizur went north to Swinefell, and Swanhild went with him. For now that +Ospakar was dead at Eric’s hand, Gizur ruled in his place at Swinefell, +and was the greatest lord in all the north. He loved Swanhild, and +desired to make her his wife; but she played with him, talking darkly +of what might be. Swanhild was not minded to be the wife of any man, +except of Eric; to all others she was cold as the winter earth. Still, +she fooled Gizur as she had fooled Atli the Good, and he grew blind +with love of her. For still the beauty of Swanhild waxed as the moon +waxes in the sky, and her wicked eyes shone as the stars shine when the +moon has set. + +Now they came to Swinefell, and there Gizur buried Ospakar Blacktooth, +his father, with much state. He set him in a chamber of rock and +timbers on a mountain-top, whence he might see all the lands that once +were his, and built up a great mound of earth above him. To this day +people tell that here on Yule night black Ospakar bursts out, and +golden Eric rides down the blast to meet him. Then come the clang of +swords, and groans, and the sound of riven helms, till presently +Brighteyes passes southward on the wind, bearing in his hand the half +of a cloven shield. + +So Gizur bound the Hell-shoes on his father, and swore that he would +neither rest nor stay till Eric Brighteyes was dead and dead was +Skallagrim Lambstail. Then he gathered a great force of men and rode +south to Coldback, to the slaying of Eric, and with him went Swanhild. + +Gudruda sat alone in the haunted hall of Middalhof and brooded on her +love and on her fate. Eric, too, sat in Mosfell cave and brooded on his +evil chance. His heart was sick with sorrow, and there was little that +he could do except think about the past. He would not go to foray, +after the fashion of outlaws, and there was no need of this. For the +talk of his mighty deeds spread through the land, so that the people +spoke of little else. And the men of his quarter were so proud of these +deeds of Eric’s that, though some of their kind had fallen at his hands +in the great fight of Middalhof and some at the hands of Skallagrim, +yet they spoke of him as men speak of a God. Moreover they brought him +gifts of food and clothing and arms, as many as his people could carry +away, and laid them in a booth that is on the plain near the foot of +Mosfell, which thenceforth was named Ericsfell. Further, they bade his +thralls tell him that, if he wished it, they would find him a good ship +of war to take him from Iceland—ay, and man it with loyal men and true. + +Eric thanked them through Jon his thrall, but answered that he wished +to die here in Iceland. + +Now, when Eric had sat two months and more in Mosfell cave and autumn +was coming, he learned that Gizur and Swanhild had moved down to +Coldback, and with them a great company of men who were sworn to slay +him. He asked if Gudruda the Fair had also gathered men for his +slaying. They told him no; that Gudruda stayed with her thralls and +women at Middalhof, mourning for Björn her brother. From these tidings +Eric took some heart of hope: at the least Gudruda laid no blood-feud +against him. For he waited, thinking, if indeed she yet loved him, that +Gudruda would send him some word or token of her love. But no word +came, since between them ran the blood of Björn. On the morrow of these +tidings Skallagrim spoke to Eric. + +“This is my counsel, lord,” he said, “that we ride out by night and +fall on the folk of Gizur at Coldback, and burn the stead over them, +putting them to the sword. I am weary of sitting here like an eagle in +a cage.” + +“Such is no counsel of mine, Skallagrim,” answered Brighteyes. “I am +weary of sitting here, indeed; but I am yet more weary of bringing men +to their death. I will shed no more blood, unless it is to save my own +head. When the people of Gizur come to seek me on Mosfell, they shall +find me here; but I will not go to them.” + +“Thy heart is out of thee, lord,” said Skallagrim; “thou wast not wont +to speak thus.” + +“Ay, Skallagrim,” said Eric, “the heart is out of me. Yet I ride from +Mosfell to-day.” + +“Whither, lord?” + +“To Middalhof, to have speech with Gudruda the Fair.” + +“Like enough, then, thou wilt be silent thereafter.” + +“It well may be,” said Eric. “Yet I will ride. I can bear this doubt no +longer.” + +“Then I shall come with thee,” said Skallagrim. + +“As thou wilt,” answered Eric. + +So at midday Eric and Skallagrim rode away from Mosfell in a storm of +rain. The rain was so heavy that those of Gizur’s spies who watched the +mountain did not see them. All that day they rode and all the night, +till by morning they came to Middalhof. Eric told Skallagrim to stay +with the horses and let them feed, while he went on foot to see if by +chance he might get speech with Gudruda. This the Baresark did, though +he grumbled at the task, fearing lest Eric should be done to death, and +he not there to die with him. + +Now Eric walked to within two bowshots of the house, then sat down in a +dell by the river, from the edge of which he could see those who passed +in and out. Presently his heart gave a leap, for there came out from +the woman’s door a lady tall and beautiful to see, and with golden hair +that flowed about her breast. It was Gudruda, and he saw that she bore +a napkin in her hand. Then Eric knew, according to her custom on the +warm mornings, that she came alone to bathe in the river, as she had +always done from a child. It was her habit to bathe here in this place: +for at the bottom of the dell was a spot where reeds and bushes grew +thick, and the water lay in a basin of rock and was clear and still. +For at this spot a hot spring ran into the river. + +Eric went down the dell, hid himself close in the bushes and waited, +for he feared to speak with Gudruda in the open field. A while passed, +and presently the shadow of the lady crept over the edge of the dell, +then she came herself in that beauty which since her day has not been +known in Iceland. Her face was sad and sweet, her dark and lovely eyes +were sad. On she came, till she stood within a spear’s length of where +Eric lay, crouched in the bush, and looking at her through the hedge of +reeds. Here a flat rock overhung the water, and Gudruda sat herself on +this rock, and, shaking off her shoes, dipped her white feet in the +water. Then suddenly she threw aside her cloak, baring her arms, and, +gazing upon the shadow of her beauty in the mirror of the water, sighed +and sighed again, while Eric looked at her with a bursting heart, for +as yet he could find no words to say. + +Now she spoke aloud. “Of what use to be so fair?” she said. “Oh, +wherefore was I born so fair to bring death to many and sorrow on +myself and him I love?” And she shook her golden hair about her arms of +snow, and, holding the napkin to her eyes, wept softly. But it seemed +to Eric that between her sobs she called upon his name. + +Now Eric could no longer bear the sight of Gudruda weeping. While she +wept, hiding her eyes, he rose from behind the screen of reeds and +stood beside her in such fashion that his shadow fell upon her. She +felt the sunlight pass and looked up. Lo! it was no cloud, but the +shape of Eric, and the sun glittered on his golden helm and hair. + +“Eric!” Gudruda cried; “Eric!” Then, remembering how she was attired, +snatching her cloak, she threw it about her arms and thrust her wet +feet into her shoes. “Out upon thee!” she said; “is it not enough, +then, that thou shouldst break thy troth for Swanhild’s sake, that thou +shouldst slay my brother and turn my hall to shambles? Wouldst now +steal upon me thus!” + +“Methought that thou didst weep and call upon my name, Gudruda,” he +said humbly. + +“By what right art thou here to hearken to my words?” she answered. “Is +it, then, strange that I should speak the name of him who slew my +brother? Is it strange that I should weep over that brother whom thou +didst slay? Get thee gone, Brighteyes, before I call my folk to kill +thee!” + +“Call on, Gudruda. I set little price upon my life. I laid it in the +hands of chance when I came from Mosfell to speak with thee, and now I +will pay it down if so it pleases thee. Fear not, thy thralls shall +have an easy task: for I shall scarcely care to hold my own. Say, shall +I call for thee?” + +“Hush! Speak not so loud! Folk may hear thee, Eric, and then thou wilt +be in danger—I would say that, then shall ill things be told of me, +because I am found with him who slew my brother?” + +“I slew Ospakar too, Gudruda. Surely the death of him by whose side +thou didst sit as wife is more to thee than the death of Björn?” + +“The bride-cup was not yet drunk, Eric; therefore I have no blood-feud +for Ospakar.” + +“Is it, then, thy will that I should go, lady?” + +“Yes, go!—go! Never let me see thy face again!” + +Brighteyes turned without a word. He took three paces and Gudruda +watched him as he went. + +“Eric!” she called. “Eric! thou mayest not go yet: for at this hour the +thralls bring down the kine to milk, and they will see thee. Liest thou +hid here. I—I will go. For though, indeed, thou dost deserve to die, I +am not willing to bring thee to thy end—because of old friendship I am +not willing!” + +“If thou goest, I will go also,” said Eric. “Thralls or no thralls, I +will go, Gudruda.” + +“Thou art cruel to drive me to such a choice, and I have a mind to give +thee to thy fate.” + +“As thou wilt,” said Eric; but she made as though she did not hear his +words. + +“Now,” she said, “if we must stay here, it is better that we hide where +thou didst hide, lest some come upon thee.” And she passed through the +screen of rushes and sat down in a grassy place beyond, and spoke +again. + +“Nay, sit not near me; sit yonder. I would not touch thee, nor look +upon thee, who wast Swanhild’s love, and didst slay Björn my brother.” + +“Say, Gudruda,” said Eric, “did I not tell thee of the magic arts of +Swanhild? Did I not tell thee before all men yonder in the hall, and +didst thou not say that thou didst believe my words? Speak.” + +“That is true,” said Gudruda. + +“Wherefore, then, dost thou taunt me with being Swanhild’s love—with +being the love of her whom of all alive I hate the most—and whose +wicked guile has brought these sorrows on us?” + +But Gudruda did not answer. + +“And for this matter of the death of Björn at my hands, think, Gudruda: +was I to blame in it? Did not Björn thrust the cloven shield before my +feet, and thus give me into the hand of Ospakar? Did he not afterwards +smite at me from behind, and would he not have slain me if Skallagrim +had not caught the blow? Was I, then, to blame if I smote back and if +the sword flew home? Wilt thou let the needful deed rise up against our +love? Speak, Gudruda!” + +“Talk no more of love to me, Eric,” she answered; “the blood of Björn +has blotted out our love: it cries to me for vengeance. How may I speak +of love with him who slew my brother? Listen!” she went on, looking on +him sidelong, as one who wished to look and yet not seem to see: “here +thou must hide an hour, and, since thou wilt not sit in silence, speak +no tender words to me, for it is not fitting; but tell me of those +deeds thou didst in the south lands over sea, before thou wentest to +woo Swanhild and camest hither to kill my brother. For till then thou +wast mine—till then I loved thee—who now love thee not. Therefore I +would hear of the deeds of that Eric whom once I loved, before he +became as one dead to me.” + +“Heavy words, lady,” said Eric—“words to make death easy.” + +“Speak not so,” she said; “it is unmanly thus to work upon my fears. +Tell me those tidings of which I ask.” + +So Eric told her all his deeds, though he showed small boastfulness +about them. He told her how he had smitten the war-dragons of Ospakar, +how he had boarded the Raven and with Skallagrim slain those who sailed +in her. He told her also of his deeds in Ireland, and of how he took +the viking ships and came to London town. + +And as he told, Gudruda listened as one who hung upon her lover’s dying +words, and there was but one light in the world for her, the light of +Eric’s eyes, and there was but one music, the music of his voice. Now +she looked upon him sidelong no longer, but with open eyes and parted +lips she drank in his words, and always, though she knew it not +herself, she crept closer to his side. + +Then he told her how he had been greatly honoured of the King of +England, and of the battles he had fought in at his side. Lastly, Eric +told her how the King would have given him a certain great lady of +royal blood in marriage, and how Edmund had been angered because he +would not stay in England. + +“Tell me of this lady,” said Gudruda, quickly. “Is she fair, and how is +she named?” + +“She is fair, and her name is Elfrida,” said Eric. + +“And didst thou have speech with her on this matter?” + +“Somewhat.” + +Now Gudruda drew herself away from Eric’s side. + +“What was the purport of thy speech?” she said, looking down. “Speak +truly, Eric.” + +“It came to little,” he answered. “I told her that there was one in +Iceland to whom I was betrothed, and to Iceland I must go.” + +“And what said this Elfrida, then?” + +“She said that I should get little luck at the hands of Gudruda the +Fair. Moreover, she asked, should my betrothed be faithless to me, or +put me from her, if I should come again to England.” + +Now Gudruda looked him in the face and spoke. “Say, Eric, is it in thy +mind to sail for England in the spring, if thou canst escape thy foes +so long?” + +Now Eric took counsel with himself, and in his love and doubt grew +guileful as he had never been before. For he knew well that Gudruda had +this weakness—she was a jealous woman. + +“Since thou dost put me from thee, that is in my mind, lady,” he +answered. + +Gudruda heard. She thought on the great and beauteous Lady Elfrida, far +away in England, and of Eric walking at her side, and sorrow took hold +of her. She said no word, but fixed her dark eyes on Brighteyes’ face, +and lo! they filled with tears. + +Eric might not bear this sight, for his heart beat within him as though +it would burst the byrnie over it. Suddenly he stretched out his arms +and swept her to his breast. Soft and sweet he kissed her, again and +yet again, and she struggled not, though she wept a little. + +“It is small blame to me,” she whispered, “if thou dost hold me on thy +breast and kiss me, for thou art more strong than I. Björn must know +this if his dead eyes see aught. Yet for thee, Eric, it is the greatest +shame of all thy shames.” + +“Talk not, my sweet; talk not,” said Eric, “but kiss thou me: for thou +knowest well that thou lovest me yet as I love thee.” + +Now the end of it was that Gudruda yielded and kissed him whom she had +not kissed for many years. + +“Loose me, Eric,” she said; “I would speak with thee,” and he loosed +her, though unwillingly. + +“Hearken,” she went on, hiding her fair face in her hands: “it is true +that for life and death I love thee now as ever—how much thou mayest +never know. Though Björn be dead at thy hands, yet I love thee; but how +I may wed thee and not win the greatest shame, that I know not. I am +sure of one thing, that we may not bide here in Iceland. Now if, +indeed, thou lovest me, listen to my rede. Get thee back to Mosfell, +Eric, and sit there in safety through this winter, for they may not +come at thee yonder on Mosfell. Then, if thou art willing, in the +spring I will make ready a ship, for I have no ship now, and, moreover, +it is too late to sail. Then, perchance, leaving all my lands and +goods, I will take thy hand, Eric, and we will fare together to +England, seeking such fortune as the Norns may give us. What sayest +thou?” + +“I say it is a good rede, and would that the spring were come.” + +“Ay, Eric, would that the spring were come. Our lot has been hard, and +I doubt much if things will go well with us at the last. And now thou +must hence, for presently the serving-women will come to seek me. Guard +thyself, Eric, as thou lovest me—guard thyself, and beware of +Swanhild!” Then once more they kissed soft and long, and Eric went. + +But Gudruda sat a while behind the screen of reeds, and was very happy +for a space. For it was as though the winter were past and summer shone +upon her heart again. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII +HOW GUDRUDA WENT UP TO MOSFELL + + +Eric walked warily till he came to the dell where he had left +Skallagrim and the horses. It was the same dell in which Groa had +brewed the poison-draught for Asmund the Priest and Unna, Thorod’s +daughter. + +“What news, lord?” said Skallagrim. “Thou wast gone so long that I +thought of seeking thee. Hast thou seen Gudruda?” + +“Ay,” said Eric, “and this is the upshot of it, that in the spring we +sail for England and bid farewell to Iceland and our ill luck.” + +“Would, then, that it were spring,” said Skallagrim, speaking +Brighteyes’ own words. “Why not sail now and make an end?” + +“Gudruda has no ship and it is late to take the sea. Also I think that +she would let a time go by because of the blood-feud which she has +against me for the death of Björn.” + +“I would rather risk these things than stay the winter through in +Iceland,” said Skallagrim, “it is long from now to spring, and yon +wolf’s den is cold-lying in the dark months, as I know well.” + +“There is light beyond the darkness,” said Eric, and they rode away. +Everything went well with them till late at night they came to the +slopes of Mosfell. They were half asleep on their horses, being weary +with much riding, and the horses were weary also. Suddenly, Skallagrim, +looking up, caught the faint gleam of light from swords hidden behind +some stones. + +“Awake, lord!” he cried, “here are foes ahead.” + +Gizur’s folk behind the stones heard his voice and came out from their +ambush. There were six of them, and they formed in line before the +pair. They were watching the mountain, for a rumour had reached them +that Eric was abroad, and, seeing him, they had hidden hastily behind +the stones. + +“Now what counsel shall we take?” said Eric, drawing Whitefire. + +“We have often stood against men more than six, and sometimes we have +left more men than six to mark where we stood,” answered Skallagrim. +“It is my counsel that we ride at them!” + +“So be it,” said Eric, and he spurred his weary horse with his heels. +Now when the six saw Eric and Skallagrim charge on them boldly, they +wavered, and the end of it was that they broke and fled to either side +before a blow was struck. For it had come to this pass, so great was +the terror of the names of Eric Brighteyes and Skallagrim Lambstail, +that no six men dared to stand before them in open fight. + +So the path being clear they rode on up the slope. But when they had +gone a little way, Skallagrim turned his horse, and mocked those who +had lain in ambush, saying: + +“Ye fight well, ye carles of Gizur, Ospakar’s son! Ye are heroes, +surely! Say now, mighty men, will ye stand there if I come down alone +against you?” + +At these words the men grew mad with wrath, and flung their spears. +Skallagrim caught one on his shield and it fell to the earth, but +another passed over his head and struck Eric on the left shoulder, near +the neck, making a deep wound. Feeling the spear fast in him, Eric +grasped it with his right hand, drew it forth, and turning, hurled it +so hard, that the man before it got his death from the blow, for his +shield did not serve to stay it. Then the rest fled. + +Skallagrim bound up Eric’s wound as well as he could, and they went on +to the cave. But when Eric’s folk, watching above, saw the fight they +ran down and met him. Now the hurt was bad and Eric bled much; still, +within ten days it healed up for the time. + +But a little while after Eric’s wound was skinned over, the snows set +in on Mosfell, and the days grew short and the nights long. Once +Gizur’s men to the number of fifty came half way up the mountain to +take it; but, when they saw how strong the place was, they feared, and +went back, and after that returned no more, though they always watched +the fell. + +It was very dark and lonesome there upon the fell. For a while Eric +kept in good heart, but as the days went by he grew troubled. For since +he was wounded this had come upon him, that he feared the dark, and the +death of Atli at his hand and Atli’s words weighed more and more upon +his mind. They had no candles on the fell, yet, rather than stay in the +blackness of the cave, Eric would wrap sheepskins about him and sit by +the edge of that gulf down which the head of the Baresark had foretold +his fall, and look out at the wide plains and fells and ice-mountains, +gleaming in the silver shine of the Northern lights or in the white +beams of the stars. + +It chanced that Eric had bidden the men who stayed with him to build a +stone hut upon the flat space of rock before the cave, and to roof it +with turves. He had done this that work might keep them in heart, also +that they might have a place to store such goods as they had gathered. +Now there was one stone lying near that no two men of their number +could move, except Skallagrim and one other. One day, while it was +light, Eric watched these two rolling the stone along to where it must +stand, and it was slow work. Presently they stayed to rest. Then Eric +came and putting his hands beneath the stone, lifted, and while men +wondered, he rolled the mass alone, to where it should be set as the +corner stone of the hut. + +“Ye are all children,” he said, and laughed merrily. + +“Ay, when we set our strength against thine, lord,” answered +Skallagrim; “but look: the blood runs from thy neck—the spear-wound has +broken out afresh.” + +“So it is, surely,” said Eric. Then he washed the wound and bound it +up, thinking little of the matter. + +But that night, according to his custom, Eric sat on the edge of the +gulf and looked at the winter lights as they played over Hecla’s snows. +He was sad and heavy at heart, for he thought of Gudruda and wondered +much if they should live to wed. Remembering Atli’s words, he had +little faith in his good luck. Now as Eric sat and thought, the bandage +on his neck slipped, so that the hurt bled, and the frost got hold of +the wound and froze it, and froze his long hair to it also, in such +fashion that when he went to the cave where all men slept, he could not +loose his hair from the sore, but lay down with it frozen to him. On +the morrow the hair was caked so fast about his neck that it could only +be freed by shearing it. But this Eric would not suffer. None, he said, +should shear his hair, except Gudruda. Thus he had sworn, and when he +broke the oath misfortune had come of it. He would break that vow no +more, if it cost him his life. For sorrow and his ill luck had taken so +great a hold of Eric’s mind that in some ways he was scarcely himself. + +So it came to pass that he fell more and more sick, till at length he +could not rise from his bed in the cave, but lay there all day and +night, staring at the little light which pierced the gloom. Still, he +would not suffer that anyone should touch his hair. And when one stole +upon him sleeping, thinking so to cut it before he woke, and come at +the wound, suddenly he sat up and dealt the man such a buffet on the +head that he went near to death from it. + +Then Skallagrim spoke. + +“On this matter,” he said, “it seems that Brighteyes is mad. He will +not suffer that any touch his hair, except Gudruda, and yet, if his +hair is not shorn, he must die, for the wound will fester under it. Nor +may we cut it by strength, for then he will kill himself in struggling. +It is come to this then: either Gudruda must be brought hither or Eric +will shortly die.” + +“That may not be,” they answered. “How can the lady Gudruda come here +across the snows, even if she will come?” + +“Come she can, if she has the heart,” said Skallagrim, “though I put +little trust in women’s hearts. Still, I ride down to Middalhof, and +thou, Jon, shalt go with me. For the rest, I charge you watch your +lord; for, if I come back and find anything amiss, that shall be the +death of some, and if I do not come back but perish on the road, yet I +will haunt you.” + +Now Jon liked not this task; still, for love of Eric and fear of +Skallagrim, he set out with the Baresark. They had a hard journey +through the snow-drifts and the dark, but on the third day they came to +Middalhof, knocked upon the door and entered. + +Now it was supper-time, and people, sitting at meat, saw a great black +man, covered with snow and rime, stalk up the hall, and after him +another smaller man, who groaned with the cold, and they wondered at +the sight. Gudruda sat on the high seat and the firelight beat upon her +face. + +“Who comes here?” she said. + +“One who would speak with thee, lady,” answered Skallagrim. + +“Here is Skallagrim the Baresark,” said a man. “He is an outlaw, let us +kill him!” + +“Ay, it is Skallagrim,” he answered, “and if there is killing to be +done, why here’s that which shall do it,” and he drew out his axe and +smiled grimly. + +Then all held their peace, for they feared the axe of Skallagrim. + +“Lady,” he said, “I do not come for slaying or such child’s play, I +come to speak a word in thine ear—but first I ask a cup of mead and a +morsel of food, for we have spent three days in the snows.” + +So they ate and drank. Then Gudruda bade the Baresark draw near and +tell her his tale. + +“Lady,” said he, “Eric, my lord, lies dying on Mosfell.” + +Gudruda turned white as the snow. + +“Dying?—Eric lies dying?” she said. “Why, then, art thou here?” + +“For this cause, lady: I think that thou canst save him, if he is not +already sped.” And he told her all the tale. + +Now Gudruda thought a while. + +“This is a hard journey,” she said, “and it does not become a maid to +visit outlaws in their caves. Yet I am come to this, that I will die +before I shrink from anything that may save the life of Eric. When must +we ride, Skallagrim?” + +“This night,” said the Baresark. “This night while the men sleep, for +now night and day are almost the same. The snow is deep and we have no +time to lose if we would find Brighteyes living.” + +“Then we will ride to-night,” answered Gudruda. + +Afterwards, when people slept, Gudruda the Fair summoned her women, and +bade them say to all who asked for her that she lay sick in bed. But +she called three trusty thralls, bidding them bring two pack-horses +laden with hay, food, drugs, candles made of sheep’s fat, and other +goods, and ride with her. Then, all being ready, they rode away +secretly up Stonefell, Gudruda on her horse Blackmane, and the others +on good geldings that had been hay-fed in the yard, and by daylight +they passed up Horse-Head Heights. They slept two nights in the snow, +and on the second night almost perished there, for much soft snow fell. +But afterwards came frost and a bitter northerly wind and they passed +on. Gudruda was a strong woman and great of heart and will, and so it +came about that on the third day she reached Mosfell, weary but little +harmed, though the fingers of her left hand were frostbitten. They +climbed the mountain, and when they came to the dell where the horses +were kept, certain of Eric’s men met them and their faces were sad. + +“How goes it now with Brighteyes?” said Skallagrim, for Gudruda could +scarcely speak because of doubt and cold. “Is he dead, then?” + +“Nay,” they answered, “but like to die, for he is beside himself and +raves wildly.” + +“Push on,” quoth Gudruda; “push on, lest it be too late.” + +So they climbed the mountain on foot, won the pass and came to that +giddy point of rock where he must tread who would reach the platform +that is before the cave. Now since she had hung by her hands over +Goldfoss gulf, Gudruda had feared to tread upon a height with nothing +to hold to. Skallagrim went first, then called to her to follow. Thrice +she looked, and turned away, trembling, for the place was awful and the +fall bottomless. Then she spoke aloud to herself: + +“Eric did not fear to risk his life to save me when I hung over Golden +Falls; less, then, should I fear to risk mine to save him,” and she +stepped boldly down upon the point. But when she stood there, over the +giddy height, shivers ran along her body, and her mind grew dark. She +clutched at the rock, gave one low cry and began to fall. Indeed she +would have fallen and been lost, had not Skallagrim, lying on his +breast in the narrow hole, stretched out his arms, caught her by the +cloak and kirtle and dragged her to him. Presently her senses came +back. + +“I am safe!” she gasped, “but by a very little. Methinks that here in +this place I must live and die, for I can never tread yonder rock +again.” + +“Thou shalt pass it safe enough, lady, with a rope round thee,” said +Skallagrim, and led the way to the cave. + +Gudruda entered, forgetting all things in her love of Eric. A great +fire of turf burned in the mouth of the cave to temper the bitter wind +and frost, and by its light Gudruda saw her love through the +smoke-reek. He lay upon a bed of skins at the far end of the cave and +his bright grey eyes were wild, his wan face was white, and now of a +sudden it grew red with fever, and then was white again. He had thrown +the sheepskins from his mighty chest, the bones of which stood out +grimly. His long arms were thrust through the locks of his golden hair, +and on one side of his neck the hair clung to him and it was but a +black mass. + +He raved loudly in his madness. “Touch me not, carles, touch me not; ye +think me spent and weak, but, by Thor! if ye touch my hair, I will +loosen the knees of some. Gudruda alone shall shear my hair: I have +sworn and I will keep the oath that I once broke. Give me snow! snow! +my throat burns! Heap snow on my head, I bid you. Ye will not? Ye mock +me, thinking me weak! Where, then, is Whitefire?—I have yet a deed to +do! Who comes yonder? Is it a woman’s shape or is it but a +smoke-wraith? ‘Tis Swanhild the Fatherless who walks the waters. +Begone, Swanhild, thou witch! thou hast worked evil enough upon me. +Nay, it is not Swanhild, it is Elfrida; lady, here in England I may not +stay. In Iceland I am at home. Yea, yea, things go crossly; perchance +in this garden we may speak again!” + +Now Gudruda could bear his words no longer, bur ran to him and knelt +beside him. + +“Peace, Eric!” she whispered. “Peace! It is I, thy love. It is Gudruda, +who am come to thee.” + +He turned his head and looked upon her strangely. + +“No, no,” he said, “it is not Gudruda the Fair. She will have little to +do with outlaws, and this is too rough a place for her to come to. It +is dark also and Atli speaks in the darkness. If thou art Gudruda, give +me a sign. Why comest thou here and where is Skallagrim? Ah! that was a +good fight— + +Down among the ballast tumbling +Ospakar’s shield-carles were rolled. + + +But he should never have slain the steersman. The axe goes first and +Skallagrim follows after. Ha, ha! Ay, Swanhild, we’ll mingle tears. +Give me the cup. Why, what is this? Thou art afire, a glory glows about +thee, and from thee floats a scent like the scent of the Iceland meads +in May.” + +“Eric! Eric!” cried Gudruda, “I am come to shear thy hair, as thou +didst swear that I alone should do.” + +“Now I know that thou art Gudruda,” said the crazed man. “Cut, cut; but +let not those knaves touch my head, lest I should slay them.” + +Then Gudruda drew out her shears, and without more ado shore off +Brighteyes’ golden locks. It was no easy task, for they were thick as a +horse’s mane, and glued to the wound. Yet when she had cut them, she +loosened the hair from the flesh with water which she heated upon the +fire. The wound was in a bad state and blue, still Eric never winced +while she dragged the hair from it. Then she washed the sore clean, and +put sweet ointment on it and covered it with napkins. + +This done, she gave Eric broth and he drank. Then, laying her hand upon +his head, she looked into his eyes and bade him sleep. And presently he +slept—which he had scarcely done for many days—slept like a little +child. + +Eric slept for a day and a night. But at that same hour of the evening, +when he had fallen asleep, Gudruda, watching him by the light of a +taper that was set upon a rock, saw him smile in his dreams. Presently +he opened his eyes and stared at the fire which glowed in the mouth of +the cave, and the great shadows that fell upon the rocks. + +“Strange!” she heard him murmur, “it is very strange! but I dreamed I +slept, and that Gudruda the Fair leaned over me as I slept. Where, +then, is Skallagrim? Perhaps I am dead and that is Hela’s fire,” and he +tried to lift himself upon his arm, but fell back from faintness, for +he was very weak. Then Gudruda took his hand, and, leaning over him, +spoke: + +“Hush, Eric!” she said; “that was no dream, for I am here. Thou hast +been sick to death, Eric; but now, if thou wilt rest, things shall go +well with thee.” + +“_Thou_ art here?” said Eric, turning his white face towards her. “Do I +still dream, or how comest thou here to Mosfell, Gudruda?” + +“I came through the snows, Eric, to cut thy hair, which clung to the +festering wound, for in thy madness thou wouldst not suffer anyone to +touch it.” + +“Thou camest through the snows—over the snows—to nurse me, Gudruda? +Thou must love me much then,” and he was so weak that, as he spoke, the +tears rolled down Eric’s cheeks. + +Then Gudruda kissed him, weeping also, and, laying her face by his, +bade him be at peace, for she was there to watch him. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII +HOW SWANHILD WON TIDINGS OF ERIC + + +Now Eric’s strength came back to him and his heart opened in the light +of Gudruda’s eyes like a flower in the sunshine. For all day long she +sat at his side, holding his hand and talking to him, and they found +much to say. + +But on the fifth day from the day of his awakening she spoke thus: + +“Eric, now I must go back to Middalhof. Thou art safe and it is not +well that I should stay here.” + +“Not yet, Gudruda,” he said; “leave me not yet.” + +“Yes, love, I must leave thee. The moon is bright, the sky has cleared, +and the snow is hard with frost and fit for the hoofs of horses. I must +go before more storms come. Listen now: in the second week of spring, +if all is well, I will send thee a messenger with words of token, then +shalt thou come down secretly to Middalhof, and there, Eric, we will be +wed. Then, on the next day, we will sail for England in a trading-ship +that I shall get ready, to seek our fortune there.” + +“It will be a good fortune if thou art by my side,” said Eric, “so good +that I doubt greatly if I may find it, for I am Eric the Unlucky. +Swanhild must yet be reckoned with, Gudruda. Yes, thou art right: thou +must go hence, Gudruda, and swiftly, though it grieves me much to part +with thee.” + +Then Eric called Skallagrim and bade him make things ready to ride down +to Middalhof with the Lady Gudruda. + +This Skallagrim did swiftly, and afterwards Eric and Gudruda kissed and +parted, and they were sad at heart to part. + +Now on the fifth day after the going of Gudruda, Skallagrim came back +to Mosfell somewhat cold and weary. And he told Eric, who could now +walk and grew strong again, that he and Jon had ridden with Gudruda the +Fair to Horse-Head Heights, seeing no man, and had left her there to go +on with her thralls. He had come back also seeing no one, for the +weather was too cold for the men of Gizur to watch the fell in the +snows. + +Now Gudruda came safely to Middalhof, having been eleven days gone, and +found that few had visited the house, and that these had been told that +she lay sick abed. Her secret had been well kept, and, though Swanhild +had no lack of spies, many days went by before she learned that Gudruda +had gone up to Mosfell to nurse Eric. + +After this Gudruda began to make ready for her flight from Iceland. She +called in the moneys that she had out at interest, and with them bought +from a certain chapman a good trading-ship which lay in its shed under +the shelter of Westman Isles. This ship she began to make ready for sea +so soon as the heart of the winter was broken, putting it about that +she intended to send her on a trading voyage to Scotland in the spring. +And also to give colour to this tale she bought many pelts and other +goods, such as chapmen deal in. + +Thus the days passed on—not so badly for Gudruda, who strove to fill +their emptiness in making ready for the full and happy time; but for +Eric in his cave they were very heavy, for he could find nothing to do +except to sleep and eat, and think of Gudruda, whom he might not see. + +For Swanhild also, sitting at Coldback, the days did not go well. She +was weary of the courting of Gizur, whom she played with as a cat plays +with a rat, and her heart was sick with love, hate, and jealousy. For +she well knew that Gudruda and Eric still clung to each other and found +means of greeting, if not of speech. At that time she wished to kill +Eric if she could, though she would rather kill Gudruda if she dared. +Still, she could not come at Eric, for her men feared to try the narrow +way of Mosfell, and when they met him in the open they fled before him. + +Presently it came to her ears that Gudruda made a ship ready to sail to +Scotland on a trading voyage, and she was perplexed by this tale, for +she knew that Gudruda had no love of trading and never thought of gain. +So she set spies to watch the ship. Still, the slow days drew on, and +at length the air grew soft with spring, and flowers showed through the +snow. + +Eric sat in his mountain nest waiting for tidings, and watched the +nesting eagles wheel about the cliffs. At length news came. For one +morning, as he rose, Skallagrim told him that a man wanted to speak +with him. He had come to the mountain in the darkness, and had lain in +a dell till the breaking of the light, for, now that the snows were +melting, the men of Gizur and Swanhild watched the ways. + +Eric bade them bring the man to him. When he saw him he knew that he +was a thrall of Gudruda’s and welcomed him heartily. + +“What tidings?” he asked. + +“This, lord,” said the thrall: “Gudruda the Fair bids me say that she +is well and that the snows melt on the roof of Middalhof.” + +Now this was the signal word that had been agreed upon between Eric and +Gudruda, that she should send him when all was ready. + +“Good,” said Eric, “ride back to Gudruda the Fair and say that Eric +Brighteyes is well, but on Hecla the snows melt not.” + +By this answer he meant that he would be with her presently, though the +thrall could make nothing of it. Then Skallagrim asked tidings of the +man, and learned that Swanhild was still at Middalhof, and with her +Gizur, and that they gave out that they wished to make an end of +waiting and slay Eric. + +“First snare your bird, then wring his neck,” laughed Skallagrim. + +Then Eric did this: among his men were some who he knew were not +willing to sail from Iceland, and Jon, his thrall, was of them, for Jon +did not love the angry sea. He bade these bide a while on Mosfell and +make fires nightly on the platform of rock which is in front of the +cave, that the spies of Gizur and Swanhild might be deceived by them, +and think that Eric was still on the fell. Then, when they heard that +he had sailed, they were to come down and hide themselves with friends +till Gizur and his following rode north. But he told two of the men who +would sail with him to make ready. + +That night before the moon rose Eric said farewell to Jon and the +others who stayed on Mosfell, and rode away with Skallagrim and the two +who went with him. They passed the plain of black sand in safety, and +so on to Horse-Head Heights. Now at length, as the afternoon drew on to +evening, from Stonefell’s crest they saw the Hall of Middalhof before +them, and Eric’s heart swelled in his breast. Yet they must wait till +darkness fell before they dared enter the place, lest they should be +seen and notice of their coming should be carried to Gizur and +Swanhild. And this came into the mind of Eric, that of all the hours of +his life that hour of waiting was the longest. Scarcely, indeed, could +Skallagrim hold him back from going down the mountain side, he was so +set on coming to Gudruda whom he should wed that night. + +At length the darkness fell, and they went on. Eric rode swiftly down +the rough mountain path, while Skallagrim and the two men followed +grumbling, for they feared that their horses would fall. At length they +came to the place, and riding into the yard, Eric sprang from his horse +and strode to the women’s door. Now Gudruda stood in the porch, +listening; and while he was yet some way off, she heard the clang of +Brighteyen’s harness, and the colour came and went upon her cheek. Then +she turned and fled to the high seat of the hall, and sat down there. +Only two women were left in Middalhof with her, and some thralls who +tended the kine and horses. But these slept, not in the hall, but in an +outhouse. Gudruda had sent the rest of her people down to the ship to +help in the lading, for it was given out that the vessel sailed on the +morrow. She had done this that there might be no talk of the coming of +Eric to Middalhof. + +Now Brighteyes came to the porch, and, finding the door wide, walked +in. But Skallagrim and the men stayed without a while, and tended the +horses. A fire burned upon the centre hearth in the hall, and threw +shadows on the panelling. Eric walked on by its light, looking to left +and right, but seeing neither man nor woman. Then a great fear took him +lest Gudruda should be gone, or perhaps slain of Swanhild, Groa’s +daughter, and he trembled at the thought. He stood by the fire, and +Gudruda, watching from the shadow of the high seat, saw the dull light +glow upon his golden helm, and a sigh of joy broke from her lips. Eric +heard the sigh and looked, and as he looked a stick of pitchy driftwood +fell into the fire and flared up fiercely. Then he saw. There, in the +carved high seat, robed all in bridal white, sat Gudruda the Fair, his +love. Her golden hair flowed about her breast, her white arms were +stretched towards him, and on her sweet face shone such a look of love +as he had never seen. + +“_Eric!_” she whispered softly, and the breath of her voice ran down +the empty panelled hall, that from all sides seemed to answer, +“_Eric._” + +Slowly he drew near to her. He saw nothing but the glory of Gudruda’s +face and the light shining on Gudruda’s hair; he heard nothing save the +sighing of her breath; he knew nothing except that before him sat his +fair bride, won after many years. + +Now he had climbed the high seat, and now, wrapped in each other’s +arms, they sat and gazed into each other’s eyes, and lo! the air of the +great hall rolled round them a sea of glory, and sweet voices whispered +in their ears. Now Freya smiled upon them and led them through her +gates of love, and they were glad that they had been born. + +Thus then they were wed. + +Now the story tells that Swanhild spoke with Gizur, Ospakar’s son, in +the house at Coldback. + +“I tire of this slow play,” she said. “We have tarried here for many +weeks, and Atli’s blood yet cries out for vengeance, and cries for +vengeance the blood of black Ospakar, thy father, and the blood of many +another, dead at great Eric’s hand.” + +“I tire also,” said Gizur, “and I am much needed in the north. I say +this to thee, Swanhild, that, hadst thou not so strictly laid it on me +that Eric must die ere thou weddest me, I had flitted back to Swinefell +before now, and there bided my time to bring Brighteyes to his end.” + +“I will never wed thee, Gizur, till Eric is dead,” said Swanhild +fiercely. + +“How shall we come at him then?” he answered. “We may not go up that +mountain path, for two men can hold it against all our strength, and +folk do not love to meet Eric and Skallagrim in a narrow way.” + +“The place has been badly watched,” said Swanhild. “I am sure of this, +that Eric has been down to Middalhof and seen Gudruda, my half-sister. +She is shameless, who still holds commune with him who slew her brother +and my husband. Death should be her reward, and I am minded to slay her +because of the shame that she has brought upon our blood.” + +“That is a deed which thou wilt do alone, then,” said Gizur, “for I +will have no hand in the murder of that fair maid—no, nor will any who +live in Iceland!” + +Swanhild glanced at him strangely. “Hearken, Gizur!” she said: “Gudruda +makes a ship ready to sail with goods to Scotland and bring a cargo +thence before winter comes again. Now I find this strange, for never +before did I know Gudruda turn her thoughts to trading. I think that +she has it in her mind to sail from Iceland with this outlaw Eric, and +seek a home over seas, and that I will not bear.” + +“It may be,” said Gizur, “and I should not be sorry to see the last of +Brighteyes, for I think that more men will die at his hand before he +stiffens in his barrow.” + +“Thou art cowardly-hearted, thou son of Ospakar!” Swanhild said. “Thou +sayest thou lovest me and wouldest win me to wife: I tell thee that +there is but one road to my arms, and it leads over the corpse of Eric. +Now this is my counsel: that we send the most of our men to watch that +ship of Gudruda’s, and, when she lifts anchor, to board her and search, +for she is already bound for sea. Also among the people here I have a +carle who was born near Hecla, and he swears this to me, that, when he +was a lad, searching for an eagle’s eyrie, he found a path by which +Mosfell might be climbed from the north, and that in the end he came to +a large flat place, and, looking over, saw that platform where Eric +dwells with his thralls. But he could not see the cave, because of the +overhanging brow of the rock. Now we will do this: thou and I, and the +carle alone—no more, for I do not wish that our search should be noised +abroad—to-morrow at the dawn we will ride away for Mosfell, and, +passing under Hecla, come round the mountain and see if this path may +still be scaled. For, if so, we will return with men and make an end of +Brighteyes.” + +This plan pleased Gizur, and he said that it should be so. + +So very early on the following morning Swanhild, having sent many men +to watch Gudruda’s ship, rode away secretly with Gizur and the thrall, +and before it was again dawn they were on the northern slopes of +Mosfell. It was on this same night that Eric went down from the +mountain to wed Gudruda. + +For a while the climbing was easy, but at length they came to a great +wall of rock, a hundred fathoms high, on which no fox might find a +foothold, nor anything that had not wings. + +“Here now is an end of our journey,” said Gizur, “and I only pray this, +that Eric may not ride round the mountain before we are down again.” +For he did not know that Brighteyes already rode hard for Middalhof. + +“Not so,” said the thrall, “if only I can find the place by which, some +thirty summers ago, I won yonder rift, and through it the crest of the +fell,” and he pointed to a narrow cleft in the face of the rock high +above their heads, that was clothed with grey moss. + +Then he moved to the right and searched, peering behind stones and +birch-bushes, till presently he held up his hand and whistled. They +passed along the slope and found him standing by a little stream of +water which welled from beneath a great rock. + +“Here is the place,” the man said. + +“I see no place,” answered Swanhild. + +“Still, it is there, lady,” and he climbed on to the rock, drawing her +after him. At the back of it was a hole, almost overgrown with moss. +“Here is the path,” he said again. + +“Then it is one that I have no mind to follow,” answered Swanhild. +“Gizur, go thou with the man and see if his tale is true. I will stay +here till ye come back.” + +Then the thrall let himself down into the hole and Gizur went after +him. But Swanhild sat there in the shadow of the rock, her chin resting +on her hand, and waited. Presently, as she sat, she saw two men ride +round the base of the fell, and strike off to the right towards a +turf-booth which stood the half of an hour’s ride away. Now Swanhild +was the keenest-sighted of all women of her day in Iceland, and when +she looked at these two men she knew one of them for Jon, Eric’s +thrall, and she knew the horse also—it was a white horse with black +patches, that Jon had ridden for many years. She watched them go till +they came to the booth, and it seemed to her that they left their +horses and entered. + +Swanhild waited upon the side of the fell for nearly two hours in all. +Then, hearing a noise above her, she looked up, and there, black with +dirt and wet with water, was Gizur, and with him was the thrall. + +“What luck, Gizur?” she asked. + +“This, Swanhild: Eric may hold Mosfell no more, for we have found a way +to bolt the fox.” + +“That is good news, then,” said Swanhild. “Say on.” + +“Yonder hole, Swanhild, leads to the cleft above, having been cut +through the cliff by fire, or perhaps by water. Now up that cleft a man +may climb, though hardly, as by a difficult stair, till he comes to the +flat crest of the fell. Then, crossing the crest, on the further side, +perhaps six fathoms below him, he sees that space of rock where is +Eric’s cave; but he cannot see the cave itself, because the brow of the +cliff hangs over. And so it is that, if any come from the cave on to +the space of rock, it will be an easy matter to roll stones upon them +from above and crush them.” + +Now when Swanhild heard this she laughed aloud. + +“Eric shall mock us no more,” she said, “and his might can avail +nothing against rocks rolled on him from above. Let us go back to +Coldback and summon men to make an end of Brighteyes.” + +So they went on down the mountain till they came to the place where +they had hidden their horses. Then Swanhild remembered Jon and the +other man whom she had seen riding to the booth, and she told Gizur of +them. + +“Now,” she said, “we will snare these birds, and perchance they will +twitter tidings when we squeeze them.” + +So they turned and rode for the booth, and drawing near, they saw two +horses grazing without. Now they got off their horses, and creeping up +to the booth, looked in through the door which was ajar. And they saw +this, that one man sat on the ground with his back to the door, eating +stock-fish, while Jon made bundles of fish and meal ready to tie on the +horses. For it was here that those of his quarter who loved Eric +brought food to be carried by his men to the cave on Mosfell. + +Now Swanhild touched Gizur on the arm, pointing first to the man who +sat eating the fish and then to the spear in Gizur’s hand. Gizur +thought a while, for he shrank from this deed. + +Then Swanhild whispered in his ear, “Slay the man and seize the other; +I would learn tidings from him.” + +So Gizur cast the spear, and it passed through the man’s heart, and he +was dead at once. Then he and the thrall leapt into the booth and threw +themselves on Jon, hurling him to the ground, and holding swords over +him. Now Jon was a man of small heart, and when he saw his plight and +his fellow dead he was afraid, and prayed for mercy. + +“If I spare thee, knave,” said Swanhild, “thou shalt do this: thou +shalt lead me up Mosfell to speak with Eric.” + +“I may not do that, lady,” groaned Jon; “for Eric is not on Mosfell.” + +“Where is he, then?” asked Swanhild. + +Now Jon saw that he had said an unlucky thing, and answered: + +“Nay, I know not. Last night he rode from Mosfell with Skallagrim +Lambstail.” + +“Thou liest, knave,” said Swanhild. “Speak, or thou shalt be slain.” + +“Slay on,” groaned Jon, glancing at the swords above him, and shutting +his eyes. For, though he feared much to die, he had no will to make +known Eric’s plans. + +“Look not at the swords; thou shalt not die so easily. Hearken: speak, +and speak truly, or thou shalt seek Hela’s lap after this fashion,” +and, bending down, she whispered in his ear, then laughed aloud. + +Now Jon grew faint with fear; his lips turned blue, and his teeth +chattered at the thought of how he should be made to die. Still, he +would say nothing. + +Then Swanhild spoke to Gizur and the thrall, and bade them bind him +with a rope, tear the garments from him, and bring snow. They did this, +and pushed the matter to the drawing of knives. But when he saw the +steel Jon cried aloud that he would tell all. + +“Now thou takest good counsel,” said Swanhild. + +Then in his fear Jon told how Eric had gone down to Middalhof to wed +Gudruda, and thence to fly with her to England. + +Now Swanhild was mad with wrath, for she had sooner died than that this +should come about. + +“Let us away,” she said to Gizur. “But first kill this man.” + +“Nay,” said Gizur, “I will not do that. He has told his tidings; let +him go free.” + +“Thou art chicken-hearted,” said Swanhild, who, after the fashion of +witches, had no mercy in her. “At the least, he shall not go hence to +warn Eric and Gudruda of our coming. If thou wilt not kill him, then +bind him and leave him.” + +So Jon was bound, and there in the booth he sat two days before anyone +came to loose him. + +“Whither away?” said Gizur to Swanhild. + +“To Middalhof first,” Swanhild answered. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX +HOW WENT THE BRIDAL NIGHT + + +Now Eric and Gudruda sat silent in the high seat of the hall at +Middalhof till they heard Skallagrim enter by the women’s door. Then +they came down from the high seat, and stood hand in hand by the fire +on the hearth. Skallagrim greeted Gudruda, looking at her askance, for +Skallagrim stood in fear of women alone. + +“What counsel now, lord?” said the Baresark. + +“Tell us thy plans, Gudruda,” said Eric, for as yet no word had passed +between them of what they should do. + +“This is my plan, Eric,” she answered. “First, that we eat; then that +thy men take horse and ride hence through the night to where the ship +lies, bearing word that we will be there at dawn when the tide serves, +and bidding the mate make everything ready for sailing. But thou and I +and Skallagrim will stay here till to-morrow is three hours old, and +this because I have tidings that Gizur’s folk will search the ship +to-night. Now, when they search and do not find us, they will go away. +Then, at the dawning, thou and I and Skallagrim will row on board the +ship as she lies at anchor, and, slipping the cable, put to sea before +they know we are there, and so bid farewell to Swanhild and our woes.” + +“Yet it is a risk for us to sleep here alone,” said Eric. + +“There is little danger,” said Gudruda. “Nearly all of Gizur’s men +watch the ship; and I have learned this from a spy, that, two days ago, +Gizur, Swanhild, and one thrall rode from Coldback towards Mosfell, and +they have not come back yet. Moreover, the place is strong, and thou +and Skallagrim are here to guard it.” + +“So be it, then,” answered Eric, for indeed he had little thought left +for anything, except Gudruda. + +After this the women came in and set meat on the board, and all ate. + +Now, when they had eaten, Eric bade Skallagrim fill a cup, and bring it +to him as he sat on the high seat with Gudruda. Skallagrim did so; and +then, looking deep into each other’s eyes, Eric Brighteyes and Gudruda +the Fair, Asmund’s daughter, drank the bride’s cup. + +“There are few guests to grace our marriage-feast, husband,” said +Gudruda. + +“Yet shall our vows hold true, wife,” said Eric. + +“Ay, Brighteyes,” she answered, “in life and in death, now and for +ever!” and they kissed. + +“It is time for us to be going, methinks,” growled Skallagrim to those +about him. “We are not wanted here.” + +Then the men who were to go on to the ship rose, fetched their horses, +and rode away. Also they caught the horses of Skallagrim, Eric, and +Gudruda, saddled them and, slipping their bridles, made them fast in a +shed in the yard, giving them hay to eat. Afterwards Skallagrim barred +the men’s door and the women’s door, and, going to Gudruda, asked where +he should stay the night till it was time to ride for the sea. + +“In the store-chamber,” she answered, “for there is a shutter of which +the latch has gone. See that thou watch it well, Skallagrim; though I +think none will come to trouble thee.” + +“I know the place. It shall go badly with the head that looks through +yonder hole,” said Skallagrim, glancing at his axe. + +Now Gudruda forgot this, that in the store-chamber were casks of strong +ale. + +Then Gudruda told him to wake them when the morrow was two hours old, +for Eric had neither eyes nor words except for Gudruda alone, and +Skallagrim went. + +The women went also to their shut bed at the end of the hall, leaving +Brighteyes and Gudruda alone. Eric looked at her. + +“Where do I sleep to-night?” he asked. + +“Thou sleepest with me, husband,” she answered soft, “for nothing, +except Death, shall come between us any more.” + +Now Skallagrim went to the store-room, and sat down with his back +against a cask. His heart was heavy in him, for he boded no good of +this marriage. Moreover, he was jealous. Skallagrim loved but one thing +in the world truly, and that was Eric Brighteyes, his lord. Now he knew +that henceforth he must take a second place, and that for one thought +which Eric gave to him, he would give ten to Gudruda. Therefore +Skallagrim was very sad at heart. + +“A pest upon the women!” he said to himself, “for from them comes all +evil. Brighteyes owes his ill luck to Swanhild and this fair wife of +his, and that is scarcely done with yet. Well, well, ‘tis nature; but +would that we were safe at sea! Had I my will, we had not slept here +to-night. But they are newly wed, and—well, ‘tis nature! Better the +bride loves to lie abed than to ride the cold wolds and seek the common +deck.” + +Now, as Skallagrim grumbled, fear gathered in his heart, he knew not of +what. He began to think on trolls and goblins. It was dark in the +store-room, except for a little line of light that crept through the +crack of the shutter. At length he could bear the darkness and his +thoughts no longer, but, rising, threw the shutter wide and let the +bright moonlight pour into the chamber, whence he could see the +hillside behind, and watch the shadows of the clouds as they floated +across it. Again Skallagrim sat down against his cask, and as he sat it +moved, and he heard the wash of ale inside it. + +“That is a good sound,” said Skallagrim, and he turned and smelt at the +cask; “aye, and a good smell, too! We tasted little ale yonder on +Mosfell, and we shall find less at sea.” Again he looked at the cask. +There was a spigot in it, and lo! on the shelf stood horn cups. + +“It surely is on draught,” he said; “and now it will stand till it goes +sour. ‘Tis a pity; but I will not drink. I fear ale—ale is another man! +No, I will not drink,” and all the while his hand went up to the cups +upon the shelf. “Eric is better lain yonder in Gudruda’s chamber than I +am here alone with evil thoughts and trolls,” he said. “Why, what fish +was that we ate at supper? My throat is cracked with thirst! If there +were water now I’d drink it, but I see none. Well, one cup to wish them +joy! There is no harm in a cup of ale,” and he drew the spigot from the +cask and watched the brown drink flow into the cup. Then he lifted it +to his lips and drank, saying “Skoll! skoll!”[*] nor did he cease till +the horn was drained. “This is wondrous good ale,” said Skallagrim as +he wiped his grizzled beard. “One more cup, and evil thoughts shall +cease to haunt me.” + +[*] “Health! health!” + + +Again he filled, drank, sat down, and for a while was merry. But +presently the black thoughts came back into his mind. He rose, looked +through the shutter-hole to the hillside. He could see nothing on it +except the shadows of the clouds. + +“Trolls walk the winds to-night,” he said. “I feel them pulling at my +beard. One more cup to frighten them.” + +He drank another draught of ale and grew merry. Then ale called for +ale, and Skallagrim drained cup on cup, singing as he drained, till at +last heavy sleep overcame him, and he sank drunken on the ground there +by the barrel, while the brown ale trickled round him. + +Now Eric Brighteyes and Gudruda the Fair slept side by side, locked in +each other’s arms. Presently Gudruda was wide awake. + +“Rouse thee, Eric,” she said, “I have dreamed an evil dream.” + +He awoke and kissed her. + +“What, then, was thy dream, sweet?” he said. “This is no hour for bad +dreams.” + +“No hour for bad dreams, truly, husband; yet dreams do not weigh the +hour of their coming. I dreamed this: that I lay dead beside thee and +thou knewest it not, while Swanhild looked at thee and mocked.” + +“An evil dream, truly,” said Eric; “but see, thou art not dead. Thou +hast thought too much on Swanhild of late.” + +Now they slept once more, till presently Eric was wide awake. + +“Rouse thee, Gudruda,” he said, “I too have dreamed a dream, and it is +full of evil.” + +“What, then, was thy dream, husband?” she asked. + +“I dreamed that Atli the Earl, whom I slew, stood by the bed. His face +was white, and white as snow was his beard, and blood from his great +wound ran down his byrnie. ‘Eric Brighteyes,’ he said, ‘I am he whom +thou didst slay, and I come to tell thee this: that before the moon is +young again thou shalt lie stiff, with Hell-shoes on thy feet. Thou art +Eric the Unlucky! Take thy joy and say thy say to her who lies at thy +side, for wet and cold is the bed that waits thee and soon shall thy +white lips be dumb.’ Then he was gone, and lo! in his place stood +Asmund, thy father, and he also spoke to me, saying, ‘Thou who dost lie +in my bed and at my daughter’s side, know this: the words of Atli are +true; but I add these to them: ye shall die, yet is death but the gate +of life and love and rest,’ and he was gone.” + +Now Gudruda shivered with fear, and crept closer to Eric’s side. + +“We are surely fey, for the Norns speak with the voices of Atli and of +Asmund,” she said. “Oh, Eric! Eric! whither go we when we die? Will +Valhalla take thee, being so mighty a man, and must I away to Hela’s +halls, where thou art not? Oh! that would be death indeed! Say, Eric, +whither do we go?” + +“What said the voice of Asmund?” answered Brighteyes. “That death is +but the gate of life and love and rest. Hearken, Gudruda, my May! Odin +does not reign over all the world, for when I sat out yonder in +England, a certain holy man taught me of another God—a God who loves +not slaughter, a God who died that men might live for ever in peace +with those they love.” + +“How is this God named, Eric?” + +“They name Him the White Christ, and there are many who cling to Him.” + +“Would that I knew this Christ, Eric. I am weary of death and blood and +evil deeds, such as are pleasing to our Gods. Oh, Eric, if I am taken +from thee, swear this to me: that thou wilt slay no more, save for thy +life’s sake only.” + +“I swear that, sweet,” he made answer. “For I too am weary of death and +blood, and desire peace most of all things. The world is sad, and sad +have been our days. Yet it is well to have lived, for through many +heavy days we have wandered to this happy night.” + +“Yea, Eric, it is well to have lived; though I think that death draws +on. Now this is my counsel: that we rise, and that thou dost put on thy +harness and summon Skallagrim, so that, if evil comes, thou mayst meet +it armed. Surely I thought I heard a sound—yonder in the hall!” + +“There is little use in that,” said Eric, “for things will befall as +they are fated. We may do nothing of our own will, I am sure of this, +and it is no good to struggle with the Norns. Yet I will rise.” + +So he kissed her, and made ready to leave the bed, when suddenly, as he +lingered, a great heaviness seized him. + +“Gudruda,” he said, “I am pressed down with sleep.” + +“That I am also, Eric,” she said. “My eyes shut of themselves and I can +scarcely stir my limbs. Ah, Eric, we are fey indeed, and this is—death +that comes!” + +“Perchance!” he said, speaking heavily. + +“Eric!—wake, Eric! Thou canst not move? Yet hearken to me—ah! this +weight of sleep! Thou lovest me, Eric!—is it not so?” + +“Yea,” he answered. + +“Now and for ever thou lovest me—and wilt cleave to me always wherever +we go?” + +“Surely, sweet. Oh, sweet, farewell!” he said, and his voice sounded +like the voice of one who speaks across the water. + +“Farewell, Eric Brighteyes!—my love—my love, farewell!” she answered +very slowly, and together they sank into a sleep that was heavy as +death. + +Now Gizur, Ospakar’s son, and Swanhild, Atli’s widow, rode fast and +hard from Mosfell, giving no rest to their horses, and with them rode +that thrall who had showed the secret path to Gizur. They stayed a +while on Horse-Head Heights till the moon rose. Now one path led hence +to the shore that is against the Westmans, where Gudruda’s ship lay +bound. Then Swanhild turned to the thrall. Her beautiful face was +fierce and she had said few words all this while, but in her heart +raged a fire of hate and jealousy which shone through her blue eyes. + +“Listen,” she said to the thrall. “Thou shalt ride hence to the bay +where the ship of Gudruda the Fair lies at anchor. Thou knowest where +our folk are in hiding. Thou shalt speak thus to them. Before it is +dawn they must take boats and board Gudruda’s ship and search her. And, +if they find Eric, the outlaw, aboard, they shall slay him, if they +may.” + +“That will be no easy task,” said the thrall. + +“And if they find Gudruda they shall keep her prisoner. But if they +find neither the one nor the other, they shall do this: they shall +drive the crew ashore, killing as few as may be, and burn the ship.” + +“It is an ill deed thus to burn another’s ship,” said Gizur. + +“Good or ill, it shall be done,” answered Swanhild fiercely. “Thou art +a lawman, and well canst thou meet the suit; moreover Gudruda has +wedded an outlaw and shall suffer for her sin. Now go, and see thou +tarry not, or thy back shall pay the price.” + +The man rode away swiftly. Then Gizur turned to Swanhild, asking: +“Whither, then, go we?” + +“I have said to Middalhof.” + +“That is into the wolf’s den, if Eric and Skallagrim are there,” he +answered: “I have little chance against the two of them.” + +“Nay, nor against the one, Gizur. Why, if Eric’s right hand were hewn +from him, and he stood unarmed, he would still slay thee with his left, +as, swordless, he slew Ospakar thy father. Yet I shall find a way to +come at him, if he is there.” + +Then they rode on, and Gizur’s heart was heavy for fear of Eric and +Skallagrim the Baresark. So fiercely did they ride that, within one +hour after midnight, they were at the stead of Middalhof. + +“We will leave the horses here in the field,” said Swanhild. + +So they leaped to earth and, tying the reins of the horses together, +left them to feed on the growing grass. Then they crept into the yard +and listened. Presently there came a sound of horses stamping in the +far corner of the yard. They went thither, and there they found a horse +and two geldings saddled, but with the bits slipped, and on the horse +was such a saddle as women use. + +“Eric Brighteyes, Skallagrim Lambstail, and Gudruda the Fair,” +whispered Swanhild, naming the horses and laughing evilly—“the birds +are within! Now to snare them.” + +“Were it not best to meet them by the ship?” asked Gizur. + +“Nay, thou fool; if once Eric and Skallagrim are back to back, and +Whitefire is aloft, how many shall be dead before they are down, +thinkest thou? We shall not find them sleeping twice.” + +“It is shameful to slay sleeping men,” said Gizur. + +“They are outlaws,” she answered. “Hearken, Ospakar’s son. Thou sayest +thou dost love me and wouldst wed me: know this, that if thou dost fail +me now, I will never look upon thy face again, but will name thee +Niddering in all men’s ears.” + +Now Gizur loved Swanhild much, for she had thrown her glamour on him as +once she did on Atli, and he thought of her day and night. For there +was this strange thing about Swanhild that, though she was a witch and +wicked, being both fair and gentle she could lead all men, except Eric, +to love her. + +But of men she loved Eric alone. + +Then Gizur held his peace; but Swanhild spoke again: + +“It will be of no use to try the doors, for they are strong. Yet when I +was a child before now I have passed in and out the house at night by +the store-room casement. Follow me, Gizur.” Then she crept along the +shadow of the wall, for she knew it every stone, till she came to the +store-room, and lo! the shutter stood open, and through it the +moonlight poured into the chamber. Swanhild lifted her head above the +sill and looked, then started back. + +“Hush!” she said, “Skallagrim lies asleep within.” + +“Pray the Gods he wake not!” said Gizur beneath his breath, and turned +to go. But Swanhild caught him by the arm; then gently raised her head +and looked again, long and steadily. Presently she turned and laughed +softly. + +“Things go well for us,” she said; “the sot lies drunk. We have nothing +to fear from him. He lies drunk in a pool of ale.” + +Then Gizur looked. The moonlight poured into the little room, and by it +he saw the great shape of Skallagrim. His head was thrown back, his +mouth was wide. He snored loudly in his drunken sleep, and all about +him ran the brown ale, for the spigot of the cask lay upon the floor. +In his left hand was a horn cup, but in his right he still grasped his +axe. + +“Now we must enter,” said Swanhild. Gizur hung back, but she sprang +upon the sill lightly as a fox, and slid thence into the store-room. +Then Gizur must follow, and presently he stood beside her in the room, +and at their feet lay drunken Skallagrim. Gizur looked first at his +sword, then on the Baresark, and lastly at Swanhild. + +“Nay,” she whispered, “touch him not. Perchance he would cry out—and we +seek higher game. He has that within him which will hold him fast for a +while. Follow where I shall lead.” + +She took his hand and, gliding through the doorway, passed along the +passage till she came to the great hall. Swanhild could see well in the +dark, and moreover she knew the road. Presently they stood in the empty +hall. The fire had burnt down, but two embers yet glowed upon the +hearth, like red and angry eyes. + +For a while Swanhild stood still listening, but there was nothing to +hear. Then she drew near to the shut bed where Gudruda slept, and, with +her ear to the curtain, listened once more. Gizur came with her, and as +he came his foot struck against a bench and stirred it. Now Swanhild +heard murmured words and the sound of kisses. She started back, and +fury filled her heart. Gizur also heard the voice of Eric, saying: “I +will rise.” Then he would have fled, but Swanhild caught him by the +arm. + +“Fear not,” she whispered, “they shall soon sleep sound.” + +He felt her stretch out her arms and presently he saw this wonderful +thing: the eyes of Swanhild glowing in the darkness as the embers +glowed upon the hearth. Now they glowed brightly, so brightly that he +could see the outstretched arms and the hard white face beneath them, +and now they grew dim, of a sudden to shine bright again. And all the +while she hissed words through her clenched teeth. + +Thus she hissed, fierce and low: + +“Gudruda, Sister mine, hearken and sleep! +By the bond of blood I bid thee sleep!— +By the strength that is in me I bid thee sleep!— + Sleep! sleep sound! + +“Eric Brighteyes, hearken and sleep! +By the bond of sin I charge thee sleep!— +By the blood of Atli I charge thee, sleep!— + Sleep! sleep sound!” + + +Then thrice she tossed her hands aloft, saying: + +“From love to sleep! +From sleep to death! +From death to Hela! +Say, lovers, where shall ye kiss again?” + + +Then the light went out of her eyes and she laughed low. And ever as +she whispered, the spoken words of the two in the shut bed grew fainter +and more faint, till at length they died away, and a silence fell upon +the place. + +“Thou hast no cause to fear the sword of Eric, Gizur,” she said. +“Nothing will wake him now till daylight comes.” + +“Thou art awesome!” answered Gizur, for he shook with fear. “Look not +on me with those flaming eyes, I pray thee!” + +“Fear not,” she said, “the fire is out. Now to the work.” + +“What must we do, then?” + +“_Thou_ must do this. Thou must enter and slay Eric.” + +“That I can not—that I will not!” said Gizur. + +She turned and looked at him, and lo! her eyes began to flame +again—upon his eyes they seemed to burn. + +“Thou wilt do as I bid thee,” she said. “With Eric’s sword thou shalt +slay Eric, else I will curse thee where thou art, and bring such evil +on thee as thou knowest not of.” + +“Look not so, Swanhild,” he said. “Lead on—I come.” + +Now they creep into the shut chamber of Gudruda. It is so dark that +they can see nothing, and nothing can they hear except the heavy +breathing of the sleepers. + +This is to be told, that at this time Swanhild had it in her mind to +kill, not Eric but Gudruda, for thus she would smite the heart of +Brighteyes. Moreover, she loved Eric, and while he lived she might yet +win him; but Eric dead must be Eric lost. But on Gudruda she would be +bitterly avenged—Gudruda, who, for all her scheming, had yet been a +wife to Eric! + +Now they stand by the bed. Swanhild puts out her hand, draws down the +clothes, and feels the breast of Gudruda beneath, for Gudruda slept on +the outside of the bed. + +Then she searches by the head of the bed and finds Whitefire which hung +there, and draws the sword. + +“Here lies Eric, on the outside,” she says to Gizur, “and here is +Whitefire. Strike and strike home, leaving Whitefire in the wound.” + +Gizur takes the sword and lifts it. He is sore at heart that he must do +such a coward deed; but the spell of Swanhild is upon him, and he may +not flinch from it. Then a thought takes him and he also puts down his +hand to feel. It lights upon Gudruda’s golden hair, that hangs about +her breast and falls from the bed to the ground. + +“Here is woman’s hair,” he whispers. + +“No,” Swanhild answers, “it is Eric’s hair. The hair of Eric is long, +as thou hast seen.” + +Now neither of them knows that Gudruda cut Eric’s locks when he lay +sick on Mosfell, though Swanhild knows well that it is not Brighteyes +whom she bids Gizur slay. + +Then Gizur, Ospakar’s son, lifts the sword, and the faint starlight +struggling into the chamber gathers and gleams upon the blade. Thrice +he lifts it, and thrice he draws it back. Then with an oath he +strikes—and drives it home with all his strength! + +From the bed beneath there comes one long sigh and a sound as of limbs +trembling against the bed-gear. Then all is still. + +“It is done!” he says faintly. + +Swanhild puts down her hand once more. Lo! it is wet and warm. Then she +bends herself and looks, and behold! the dead eyes of Gudruda glare up +into her eyes. She can see them plainly, but none know what she read +there. At the least it was something that she loved not, for she reels +back against the panelling, then falls upon the floor. + +Presently, while Gizur stands as one in a dream, she rises, saying: “I +am avenged of the death of Atli. Let us hence!—ah! let us hence +swiftly! Give me thy hand, Gizur, for I am faint!” + +So Gizur gives her his hand and they pass thence. Presently they stand +in the store-room, and there lies Skallagrim, still plunged in his +drunken sleep. + +“Must I do more murder?” asks Gizur hoarsely. + +“Nay,” Swanhild says. “I am sick with blood. Leave the knave.” + +They pass out by the casement into the yard and so on till they find +their horses. + +“Lift me, Gizur; I can no more,” says Swanhild. + +He lifts her to the saddle. + +“Whither away?” he asks. + +“To Coldback, Gizur, and thence to cold Death.” + +Thus did Gudruda, Eric’s bride and Asmund’s daughter, the fairest woman +who ever lived in Iceland, die on her marriage night by the hand of +Gizur, Ospakar’s son, and through the hate and witchcraft of Swanhild +the Fatherless, her half-sister. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX +HOW THE DAWN CAME + + +The dawn broke over Middalhof. Slowly the light gathered in the empty +hall, it crept slowly into the little chamber where Eric slept, and +Gudruda slept also with a deeper sleep. + +Now the two women came from their chamber at the far end of the hall, +and drew near the hearth, shivering, for the air was cold. They knelt +by the fire, blowing at the embers till the sticks they cast upon them +crackled to a blaze. + +“It seems that Gudruda is not yet gone,” said one to the other. “I +thought she should ride away with Eric before the dawn.” + +“Newly wed lie long abed!” laughed the other. + +“I am glad to see the blessed light,” said the first woman, “for last +night I dreamed that once again this hall ran red with blood, as at the +marriage-feast of Ospakar.” + +“Ah,” answered the other, “it will be well for the south when Eric +Brighteyes and Gudruda are gone over sea, for their loves have brought +much bloodshed upon the land.” + +“Well, indeed!” sighed the first. “Had Asmund the Priest never found +Groa, Ran’s gift, singing by the sea, Valhalla had not been so full +to-day. Mindest thou the day he brought her here?” + +“I remember it well,” she answered, “though I was but a girl at the +time. Still, when I saw those dark eyes of hers—just such eyes as +Swanhild’s!—I knew her for a witch, as all Finn women are. It is an +evil world: my husband is dead by the sword; dead are both my sons, +fighting for Eric; dead is Unna, Thorod’s daughter; Asmund, my lord, is +dead, and dead is Björn; and now Gudruda the Fair, whom I have rocked +to sleep, leaves us to go over sea. I may not go with her, for my +daughter’s sake; yet I almost wish that I too were dead.” + +“That will come soon enough,” said the other, who was young and fair. + +Now the witch-sleep began to roll from Eric’s heart, though his eyes +were not yet open. But the talk of the women echoed in his ears, and +the words “_dead!_” “_dead!_” “_dead!_” fell heavily on his slumbering +sense. At length he opened his eyes, only to shut them again, because +of a bright gleam of light that ran up and down something at his side. +Heavily he wondered what this might be, that shone so keen and +bright—that shone like a naked sword. + +Now he looked again. Yes, it was a sword which stood by him upon the +bed, and the golden hilt was like the hilt of Whitefire. He lifted up +his hand to touch it, thinking that he dreamed. Lo! his hand and arm +were red! + +Then he remembered, and the thought of Gudruda flashed through his +heart. He sat up, gazing down into the shadow at his side. + +Presently the women at the fire heard a sound as of a great man falling +to earth. + +“What is that noise?” said one. + +“Eric leaping from his bed,” answered the other. “He has slept too +long, as we have also.” + +As they spoke the curtain of the shut bed was pushed away, and through +it staggered Eric in his night-gear, and lo! the left side of it was +red. His eyes were wide with horror, his mouth was open, and his face +was white as ice. + +He stopped, looking at them, made as though to speak, and could not. +Then, while they shrank from him in terror, he turned, and, walking +like a drunken man, staggered from the hall down that passage which led +to the store-chamber. The door stood wide, the shutter was wide, and on +the floor, soaked in the dregs of ale, Skallagrim yet lay snoring, his +axe in one hand and a cup in the other. + +Eric looked and understood. + +“Awake, drunkard!” he cried, in so terrible a voice that the room +shook. “Awake, and look upon thy work!” + +Skallagrim sat up, yawning. + +“Forsooth, my head swims,” he said. “Give me ale, I am thirsty.” + +“Never wilt thou look on ale again, Skallagrim, when thou hast seen +that which I have to show!” said Eric, in the same dread voice. + +Then Skallagrim rose to his feet and gaped upon him. + +“What means this, lord? Is it time to ride? and say! why is thy shirt +red with blood?” + +“Follow me, drunkard, and look upon thy work!” Eric said again. + +Then Skallagrim grew altogether sober, and grasping his axe, followed +after Brighteyes, sore afraid of what he might see. + +They went down the passage, past the high seat of the hall, till they +came to the curtain of the shut bed; and after them followed the women. +Eric seized the curtain in his hand, rent it from its fastenings, and +cast it on the ground. Now the light flowed in and struck upon the bed. +It fell upon the bed, it fell upon Whitefire’s hilt and ran along the +blade, it gleamed on a woman’s snowy breast and golden hair, and shone +in her staring eyes—a woman who lay stiff and cold upon the bed, the +great sword fixed within her heart! + +“Look upon thy work, drunkard!” Eric cried again, while the women who +peeped behind sent their long wail of woe echoing down the panelled +hall. + +“Hearken!” said Eric: “while thou didst lie wallowing in thy swine’s +sleep, foes crept across thy carcase, and this is their +handiwork:—yonder she lies who was my bride!—now is Gudruda the Fair a +death-wife who last night was my bride! This is thy work, drunkard! and +now what meed for thee?” + +Skallagrim looked. Then he spoke in a hoarse slow voice: + +“What meed, lord? But one—death!” + +Then with one hand he covered his eyes and with the other held out his +axe to Eric Brighteyes. + +Eric took the axe, and while the women ran thence screaming, he whirled +it thrice about his head. Then he smote down towards the skull of +Skallagrim, but as he smote it seemed to him that a voice whispered in +his ear: “_Thy oath!_”—and he remembered that he had sworn to slay no +more, save for his own life’s sake. + +The mighty blow was falling and he might only do this—loose the axe +before it clove Skallagrim in twain. He loosed and away the great axe +flew. It passed over the head of Skallagrim, and sped like light across +the wide hall, till it crashed through the panelling on the further +side, and buried itself to the haft in the wall beyond. + +“It is not for me to kill thee, drunkard! Go, die in thy drink!” + +“Then I will kill myself!” cried the Baresark, and, rushing across the +hall he tore the great axe from its bed. + +“Hold!” said Eric; “perhaps there is yet a deed for thee to do. Then +thou mayest die, if it pleases thee.” + +“Ay,” said Skallagrim coming back, “perchance there is still a deed to +do!” + +And, flinging down the axe, Skallagrim Lambstail the Baresark fell upon +the floor and wept. + +But Eric did not weep. Only he drew Whitefire from the heart of Gudruda +and looked at it. + +“Thou art a strange sword, Whitefire,” he said, “who slayest both +friend and foe! Shame on thee, Whitefire! We swore our oath on thee, +Whitefire, and thou hast cut its chain! Now I am minded to shatter +thee.” And as Eric looked on the great blade, lo! it hummed strangely +in answer. + +“‘First must thou be the death of some,’ thou sayest? Well, maybe, +Whitefire! But never yet didst thou drink so sweet a life as hers who +now lies dead, nor ever shalt again.” + +Then he sheathed the sword, but neither then nor afterwards did he wipe +the blood of Gudruda from its blade. + +“Last night a-marrying—to-day a-burying,” said Eric, and he called to +the women to bring spades. Then, having clothed himself, he went to the +centre of the hall, and, brushing away the sand, broke the hard +clay-flooring, dealing great blows on it with an axe. Now Skallagrim, +seeing his purpose, came to him and took one of the spades, and +together they laboured in silence till they had dug a grave a fathom +deep. + +“Here,” said Eric, “here, in thine own hall where thou wast born and +lived, Gudruda the Fair, thou shalt sleep at the last. And of Middalhof +I say this: that none shall live there henceforth. It shall be haunted +and accursed till the rafters rot and the walls fall in, making thy +barrow, Gudruda.” + +Now this indeed came to pass, for none have lived in Middalhof since +the days of Gudruda the Fair, Asmund’s daughter. It has been ruined +these many years, and now it is but a pile of stones. + +When the grave was dug, Eric washed himself and ate some food. Then he +went in to where Gudruda lay dead, and bade the women make her ready +for burial. This they did. When she was washed and clad in a clean +white robe, Eric came to her, and with his own hand bound the +Hell-shoes on her feet and closed her eyes. + +It was just then that a man came who said that the people of Gizur and +of Swanhild had burned Gudruda’s ship, driving the crew ashore. + +“It is well,” said Eric. “We need the ship no more; now hath she whom +it should bear wings with which to fly.” Then he went in and sat down +on the bed by the body of Gudruda, while Skallagrim crouched on the +ground without, tearing at his beard and muttering. For the fierce +heart of Skallagrim was broken because of that evil which his +drunkenness had brought about. + +All day Eric sat thus, looking on his dead love’s face, till the hour +came round when he and Gudruda had drunk the bride-cup. Then he rose +and kissed dead Gudruda on the lips, saying: + +“I did not look to part with thee thus, sweet! It is sad that thou +shouldst have gone and left me here. Natheless, I shall soon follow on +thy path.” + +Then he called aloud: + +“Art sober, drunkard?” + +Skallagrim came and stood before him, saying nothing. + +“Take thou the feet of her whom thou didst bring to death, and I will +take her head.” + +So they lifted up Gudruda and bore her to the grave. Then Eric stood +near the grave, and, taking dead Gudruda in his arms, looked upon her +face by the light of the fire and of the candles that were set about. + +He looked thrice, then sang aloud: + +“Long ago, when swept the snow-blast, +Close we clung and plighted troth. +Many a year, through storm and sword-song, +Sore I strove to win thee, sweet! +But last night I held thee, Fairest, +Lock’d, a wife, in lover’s arms. +Now, Gudruda, in thy death-rest, +Sleep thou soft till Eric come! + +“Hence I go to wreak thy murder. +Hissing fire of flaming stead, +Groan of spear-carles, wail of women, +Soon shall startle through the night. +Then on Mosfell, Kirtle-Wearer, +Eric waits the face of Death. +Freed from weary life and sorrow, +Soon we’ll kiss in Hela’s halls!” + + +Then he laid her in the grave, and, having shrouded a sheet over her, +they filled it in together, hiding Gudruda the Fair from the sight of +men for ever. + +Afterwards Eric armed himself, and this Skallagrim did also. Then he +strode from the hall, and Skallagrim followed him. In the yard those +horses were still tied that should have carried them to the ship, and +on one was the saddle of Gudruda. She had ridden on this horse for many +years, and loved it much, for it would follow her like a dog. Eric +looked at him, then said aloud: + +“Gudruda may need thee where she is, Blackmane,” for so the horse was +named. “At the least, none shall ride thee more!” And he snatched the +axe from the hand of Skallagrim and slew the horse at a blow. + +Then they rode away, heading for Coldback. The night was wild and +windy, and the sky dark with scudding clouds, through which the moon +peeped out at times. Eric looked up, then spoke to Skallagrim: + +“A good night for burning, drunkard!” + +“Ay, lord; the flames will fly briskly,” answered Skallagrim. + +“How many, thinkest thou, walked over thee, drunkard, when thou didst +lie yonder in the ale?” + +“I know not,” groaned Skallagrim; “but I found this in the soft earth +without: the print of a man’s and a woman’s feet; and this on the hill +side: the track of two horses ridden hard.” + +“Gizur and Swanhild, drunkard,” said Eric. “Swanhild cast us into deep +sleep by witchcraft, and Gizur dealt the blow. Better for him that he +had never been born than that he has lived to deal that coward’s blow!” + +Then they rode on, and when midnight was a little while gone they came +to the stead at Coldback. Now this house was roofed with turves, and +the windows were barred so that none could pass through them. Also in +the yard were faggots of birch and a stack of hay. + +Eric and Skallagrim tied their horses in a dell that is to the north of +the stead and crept up to the house. All was still; but a fire burnt in +the hall, and, looking through a crack, Eric could see many men +sleeping about it. Then he made signs to Skallagrim and together, very +silently, they fetched hay and faggots, piling them against the north +door of the house, for the wind blew from the north. Now Eric spoke to +Skallagrim, bidding him stand, axe in hand, by the south door, and slay +those who came out when the reek began to smart them: but he went +himself to fire the pile. + +When Brighteyes had made all things ready for the burning, it came into +his mind that, perhaps, Gizur and Swanhild were not in the house. But +he would not hold his hand for this, for he was mad with grief and +rage. So once more he prepared for the deed, when again he heard a +voice in his ear—the voice of Gudruda, and it seemed to say: + +“_Thine oath, Eric! remember thine oath!_” + +Then he turned and the rage went out of his heart. + +“Let them seek me on Mosfell,” he said, “I will not slay them secretly +and by reek, the innocent and the guilty together.” And he strode round +the house to where Skallagrim stood at the south door, axe aloft and +watching. + +“Does the fire burn, lord? I see no smoke,” whispered Skallagrim. + +“Nay, I have made none. I will shed no more blood, except to save my +life. I leave vengeance to the Norns.” + +Now Skallagrim thought that Brighteyes was mad, but he dared say +nothing. So they went to their horses, and when they found them, Eric +rode back to the house. Presently they drew near, and Eric told +Skallagrim to stay where he was, and riding on to the house, smote +heavy blows upon the door, just as Skallagrim once had smitten, before +Eric went up to Mosfell. + +Now Swanhild lay in her shut bed; but she could not sleep, because of +what she saw in the eyes of Gudruda. Little may she ever sleep again, +for when she shuts her eyes once more she sees that which was written +in the dead eyes of Gudruda. So, as she lay, she heard the blows upon +the door, and sprang frightened from her bed. Now there was tumult in +the hall, for every man rose to his feet in fear, searching for his +weapons. Again the loud knocks came. + +“It is the ghost of Eric!” cried one, for Gizur had given out that Eric +was dead at his hand in fair fight. + +“Open!” said Gizur, and they opened, and there, a little way from the +door, sat Brighteyes on a horse, great and shadowy to see, and behind +him was Skallagrim the Baresark. + +“It is the ghost of Eric!” they cried again. + +“I am no ghost,” said Brighteyes. “I am no ghost, ye men of Swanhild. +Tell me: is Gizur, the son of Ospakar, among you?” + +“Gizur is here,” said a voice; “but he swore he slew thee last night.” + +“Then he lied,” quoth Eric. “Gizur did not slay me—he murdered Gudruda +the Fair as she lay asleep at my side. See!” and he drew Whitefire from +its scabbard and held it in the rays of the moon that now shone out +between the cloud rifts. “Whitefire is red with Gudruda’s blood—Gudruda +slaughtered in her sleep by Gizur’s coward hand!” + +Now men murmured, for this seemed to them the most shameful of all +deeds. But Gizur, hearing, shrank back aghast. + +“Listen again!” said Eric. “I was minded but now to burn you all as ye +slept—ay, the firing is piled against the door. Still, I held my hand, +for I have sworn to slay no more, except to save my life. Now I ride +hence to Mosfell. Thither let Gizur come, Gizur the murderer, and +Swanhild the witch, and with them all who will. There I will give them +greeting, and wipe away the blood of Gudruda from Whitefire’s blade.” + +“Fear not, Eric,” cried Swanhild, “I will come, and there thou mayst +kill me, if thou canst.” + +“Against thee, Swanhild,” said Eric, “I lift no hand. Do thy worst, I +leave thee to thy fate and the vengeance of the Norns. I am no +woman-slayer. But to Gizur the murderer I say, come.” + +Then he turned and went, and Skallagrim went with him. + +“Up, men, and cut Eric down!” cried Gizur, seeking to cover his shame. + +But no man stirred. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI +HOW ERIC SENT AWAY HIS MEN FROM MOSFELL + + +Now Eric and Skallagrim came to Mosfell in safety, and during all that +ride Brighteyes spoke no word. He rode in silence, and in silence +Skallagrim rode after him. The heart of Skallagrim was broken because +of the sorrow which his drunkenness had brought about, and the heart of +Eric was buried in Gudruda’s grave. + +On Mosfell Eric found four of his own men, two of whom had been among +those that the people of Gizur and Swanhild had driven from Gudruda’s +ship before they fired her. For no fight had been made on the ship. +There also he found Jon, who had been loosed from his bands in the +booth by one who heard his cries as he rode past. Now when Jon saw +Brighteyes, he told him all, and fell at Eric’s feet and wept because +he had betrayed him in his fear. + +But Eric spoke no angry word to him. Stooping down he raised him, +saying, “Thou wast never overstout of heart, Jon, and thou art scarcely +to be blamed because thou didst speak rather than die in torment, +though perhaps some had chosen so to die and not to speak. Now I am a +luckless man, and all things happen as they are fated, and the words of +Atli come true, as was to be looked for. The Norns, against whom none +may stand, did but work their will through thy mouth, Jon; so grieve no +more for that which cannot be undone.” + +Then he turned away, but Jon wept long and loudly. + +That night Eric slept well and dreamed no dreams. But on the morrow he +woke at dawn, and clothed himself and ate. Then he called his men +together, and with them Skallagrim. They came and stood before him, and +Eric, drawing Whitefire, leaned upon it and spoke: + +“Hearken, mates,” he said: “I know this, that my hours are short and +death draws on. My years have been few and evil, and I cannot read the +purpose of my life. She whom I loved has been slain by the witchcraft +of Swanhild and the coward hand of Gizur the murderer, and I go to seek +her where she waits. I am very glad to go, for now I have no more joy +in life, being but a luckless man; it is an ill world, friends, and all +the ways are red with blood. I have shed much blood, though but one +life haunts me now at the last, and that is the life of Atli the Earl, +for he was no match for my might and he is dead because of my sin. With +my own blood I will wash away the blood of Atli, and then I seek +another place, leaving nothing but a tale to be told in the ingle when +fall the winter snows. For to this end we all come at the last, and it +matters little if it find us at midday or at nightfall. We live in +sorrow, we die in pain and darkness: for this is the curse that the +Gods have laid upon men and each must taste it in his season. But I +have sworn that no more men shall die for me. I will fight the last +great fight alone; for I know this: I shall not easily be overcome, and +with my fallen foes I will tread on Bifrost Bridge. Therefore, +farewell! When the bones of Eric Brighteyes lie in their barrow, or are +picked by ravens on the mountain side, Gizur will not trouble to hunt +out those who clung to him, if indeed Gizur shall live to tell the +tale. Nor need ye fear the hate of Swanhild, for she aims her spears at +me alone. Go, therefore, and when I am dead, do not forget me, and do +not seek to avenge me, for Death the avenger of all will find them +also.” + +Now Eric’s men heard and groaned aloud, saying that they would die with +him, for they loved Eric one and all. Only Skallagrim said nothing. + +Then Brighteyes spoke again: “Hear me, comrades. If ye will not go, my +blood will be on your heads, for I will ride out alone, and meet the +men of Gizur in the plain and fall there fighting.” + +Then one by one they crept away to seek their horses in the dell. And +each man as he went came to Eric and kissed his hand, then passed +thence weeping. Jon was the last to go, except Skallagrim only, and he +was so moved that he could not speak at all. + +It was this Jon who, in after years, when he was grown very old, +wandered from stead to stead telling the deeds of Eric Brighteyes, and +always finding a welcome because of his tale, till at length, as he +journeyed, he was overtaken by a snowstorm and buried in a drift. For +Jon, who lacked much, had this gift: he had a skald’s tongue. Men have +always held that it was to the honour of Jon that he told the tale +thus, hiding nothing, seeing that some of it is against himself. + +Now when all had gone, Eric looked at Skallagrim, who still stood near +him, axe in hand. + +“Wherefore goest thou not, drunkard?” he said. “Surely thou wilt find +ale and mead in the vales or oversea. Here there is none. Hasten! I +would be alone!” + +Now the great body of Skallagrim shook with grief and shame, and the +red blood poured up beneath his dark sin. Then he spoke in a thick +voice: + +“I did not think to live to hear such words from the lips of Eric +Brighteyes. They are well earned, yet it is unmanly of thee, lord, thus +to taunt one who loves thee. I would sooner die as Swanhild said yonder +thrall should die than live to listen to such words. I have sinned +against thee, indeed, and because of my sin my heart is broken. Hast +thou, then, never sinned that thou wouldst tear it living from my +breast as eagles tear a foundered horse? Think on thine own sins, Eric, +and pity mine! Taunt me thus once more or bid me go once more and I +will go indeed! I will go thus—on the edge of yonder gulf thou didst +overcome me by thy naked might, and there I swore fealty to thee, Eric +Brighteyes. Many a year have we wandered side by side, and, standing +back to back, have struck many a blow. I am minded to do this: to stand +by thee in the last great fight that draws on and to die there with +thee. I have loved no other man save thee, and I am too old to seek new +lords. Yet, if still thou biddest me, I will go thus. Where I swore my +oath to thee, there I will end it. For I will lay me down on the brink +of yonder gulf, as once I lay when thy hand was at my throat, and call +out that thou art no more my lord and I am no more thy thrall. Then I +will roll into the depths beneath, and by this death of shame thou +shalt be freed of me, Eric Brighteyes.” + +Eric looked at the great man—he looked long and sadly. Then he spoke: + +“Skallagrim Lambstail, thou hast a true heart. I too have sinned, and +now I put away thy sin, although Gudruda is dead through thee and I +must die because of thee. Stay by me if thou wilt and let us fall +together.” + +Then Skallagrim came to Eric, and, kneeling before him, took his hands +and kissed them. + +“Now I am once more a man,” he said, “and I know this: we two shall die +such a great death that it will be well to have lived to die it!” and +he arose and shouted: + +“A! hai! A! hai! I see foes pass in pride! +A! hai! A! hai! Valkyries ride the wind! +Hear the song of the sword! +Whitefire is aloft—aloft! +Bare is the axe of the Baresark! +Croak, ye nesting ravens; +Flap your wings, ye eagles, +For bright is Mosfell’s cave with blood! +Lap! lap! thou Grey Wolf, +Laugh aloud, Odin! + +“Laugh till shake the golden doors; +Heroes’ feet are set on Bifrost, +Open, ye hundred gates! +A! hai! A! hai! red runs the fray! +A! hai! A! hai! Valkyries ride the wind!” + + +Then Skallagrim turned and went to clean his harness and the golden +helm of Eric. + +Now at Coldback Gizur spoke with Swanhild. + +“Thou hast brought the greatest shame upon me,” he said, “for thou hast +caused me to slay a sleeping woman. Knowest thou that my own men will +scarcely speak with me? I have come to this evil pass, through love of +thee, that I have slain a sleeping woman!” + +“It was not my fault that thou didst kill Gudruda,” answered Swanhild; +“surely I thought it was Eric whom thy sword pierced! I have not sought +thy love, Gizur, and I say this to thee: go, if thou wilt, and leave me +alone!” + +Now Gizur looked at her, and was minded to go; but, as Swanhild knew +well, she held him too fast in the net of her witcheries. + +“I would go, if I might go!” answered Gizur; “but I am bound to thee +for good or evil, since it is fated that I shall wed thee.” + +“Thou wilt never wed me while Eric lives,” said Swanhild. + +Now she spoke thus truthfully, and by chance, as it were, not as +driving Gizur on to slay Eric—for, now that Gudruda was dead, she was +in two minds as to this matter, since, if she might, she still desired +to take Eric to herself—but meaning that while Eric lived she would wed +no other man. But Gizur took it otherwise. + +“Eric shall certainly die if I may bring it about,” he answered, and +went to speak with his men. + +Now all were gathered in the yard at Coldback, and that was a great +company. But their looks were heavy because of the shame that Gizur, +Ospakar’s son, had brought upon them by the murder of Gudruda in her +sleep. + +“Hearken, comrades!” said Gizur: “great shame is come upon me because +of a deed that I have done unwittingly, for I aimed at the eagle Eric +and I have slain the swan Gudruda.” + +Then a certain old viking in the company, named Ketel, whom Gizur had +hired for the slaying of Eric, spoke: + +“Man or woman, it is a niddering deed to kill folk in their sleep, +Gizur! It is murder, and no less, and small luck can be hoped for from +the stroke.” + +Now Gizur felt that his people looked on him askance and heavily, and +knew that it would be hard to show them that he was driven to this deed +against his will, and by the witchcraft of Swanhild. So, as was his +nature, he turned to guile for shelter, like a fox to his hole, and +spoke to them with the tongue of a lawman; for Gizur had great skill in +speech. + +“That tale was not all true which Eric Brighteyes told you,” he said. +“He was mad with grief, and moreover it seems that he slept, and only +woke to find Gudruda dead. It came about thus: I stood with the lady +Swanhild, and was about to call aloud on Eric to arm himself and come +forth and meet me face to face——” + +“Then, lord, methinks thou hadst never met another foe,” quoth the +viking Ketel who had spoken first. + +“When of a sudden,” went on Gizur, taking no note of Ketel’s words, +“one clothed in white sprang from the bed and rushed on me. Then I, +thinking that it was Eric, lifted sword, not to smite, but to ward him +away; but the linen-wearer met the sword and fell down dead. Then I +fled, fearing lest men should wake and trap us, and that is all the +tale. It was no fault of mine if Gudruda died upon the sword.” + +Thus he spoke, but still men looked doubtfully upon him, for his eye +was the eye of a liar—and Eric, as they knew, did not lie. + +“It is hard to find the truth between lawman’s brain and tongue,” said +the old viking Ketel. “Eric is no lawman, but a true man, and he sang +another song. I would slay Eric indeed, for between him and me there is +a blood-feud, since my brother died at his hand when, with Whitefire +for a crook, Brighteyes drove armed men like sheep down the hall of +Middalhof—ay and swordless, slew Ospakar. Yet I say that Eric is a true +man, and, whether or no thou art true, Gizur the Lawman, that thou +knowest best—thou and Swanhild the Fatherless, Groa’s daughter. If thou +didst slay Gudruda as thou tellest, say, how came Gudruda’s blood on +Whitefire’s blade? How did it chance, Gizur, that thou heldest +Whitefire in thy hand and not thine own sword? Now I tell thee this: +either thou shalt go up against Eric and clear thyself by blows, or I +leave thee; and methinks there are others among this company who will +do the same, for we have no wish to be partners with murderers and +their wickedness.” + +“Ay, a good word!” said many who stood by. “Let Gizur go up with us to +Mosfell, and there stand face to face with Eric and clear himself by +blows.” + +“I ask no more,” said Gizur; “we will ride to-night.” + +“But much more shalt thou get, liar,” quoth Ketel to himself, “for that +hour when thou lookest once again on Whitefire shall be thy last!” + +So Gizur and Swanhild made ready to go up against Eric. That day they +rode away with a great company, a hundred and one in all, and this was +their plan. They sent six men with that thrall who had shown them the +secret path, bidding him guide them to the mountain-top. Then, when +they were come thither, and heard the shouts of those who sought to +gain the platform from the south, they were to watch till Eric and his +folk came out from the cave, and shoot them with arrows from above or +crush them with stones. But if perchance Eric left the platform and +came to meet his foes in the narrow pass, then they must let themselves +down with ropes from the height above, and, creeping after him round +the rock, must smite him in the back. Moreover, in secret, Gizur +promised a great reward of ten hundreds in silver to him who should +kill Eric, for he did not long to stand face to face with him alone. +Swanhild also in secret made promise of reward to those who should +bring Eric to her, bound, but living; and she bade them do this—to bear +him down with shields and tie him with ropes. + +So they rode away, the seven who should climb the mountain from behind +going first, and on the morrow morning they crossed the sand and came +to Mosfell. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII +HOW ERIC AND SKALLAGRIM GREW FEY + + +Now the night came down upon Mosfell, and of all nights this was the +strangest. The air was quiet and heavy, yet no rain fell. It was so +silent, moreover, that, did a stone slip upon the mountain side or a +horse neigh far off on the plains, the sound of it crept up the fell +and was echoed from the crags. + +Eric and Skallagrim sat together on the open space of rock that is +before the cave, and great heaviness and fear came into their hearts, +so that they had no desire to sleep. + +“Methinks the night is ghost-ridden,” said Eric, “and I am fey, for I +grow cold, and it seems to me that one strokes my hair.” + +“It is ghost-ridden, lord,” answered Skallagrim. “Trolls are abroad, +and the God-kind gather to see Eric die.” + +For a while they sat in silence, then suddenly the mountain heaved up +gently beneath them. Thrice it seemed to heave like a woman’s breast, +and left them frightened. + +“Now the dwarf-folk come from their caves,” quoth Skallagrim, “and +great deeds may be looked for, since they are not drawn to the upper +earth by a little thing.” + +Then once more they sat silent; and thick darkness came down upon the +mountain, hiding the stars. + +“Look,” said Eric of a sudden, and he pointed to Hecla. + +Skallagrim looked, and lo! the snowy dome of Hecla was aglow with a +rosy flame like the light of dawn. + +“Winter lights,” said Lambstail, shuddering. + +“Death lights!” answered Eric. “Look again!” + +They looked, and behold! in the rosy glow there sat three giant forms +of fire, and their shapes were the shapes of women. Before them was a +loom of blackness that stretched from earth to sky, and they wove at it +with threads of flame. They were splendid and terrible to see. Their +hair streamed behind them like meteor flames, their eyes shone like +lightning, and their breasts gleamed like the polished bucklers of the +gods. They wove fiercely at the loom of blackness, and as they wove +they sang. The voice of the one was as the wind whistling through the +pines; the voice of the other was as the sound of rain hissing on deep +waters; and the voice of the third was as the moan of the sea. They +wove fearfully and they sang loudly, but what they sang might not be +known. Now the web grew and the woof grew, and a picture came upon the +loom—a great picture written in fire. + +Behold! it was the semblance of a storm-awakened sea, and a giant ship +fled before the gale—a dragon of war, and in the ship were piled the +corses of men, and on these lay another corse, as one lies upon a bed. +They looked, and the face of the corse grew bright. It was the face of +Eric, and his head rested upon the dead heart of Skallagrim. + +Clinging to each other, Eric and Skallagrim saw the sight of fear that +was written on the loom of the Norns. They saw it for a breath. Then, +with a laugh like the wail of wolves, the shapes of fire sprang up and +rent the web asunder. Then the first passed upward to the sky, the +second southward towards Middalhof, but the third swept over Mosfell, +so that the brightness of her flaming form shone on the rock where they +sat by the cave, and the lightning of her eyes was mirrored in the +byrnie of Skallagrim and on Eric’s golden helm. She swept past, +pointing downwards as she went, and lo! she was gone, and once more +darkness and silence lay upon the earth. + +Now this sight was seen of Jon the thrall also, and he told it in his +story of the deeds of Eric. For Jon lay hid in a secret place on +Mosfell, waiting for tidings of what came to pass. + +For a while Eric and Skallagrim clung to each other. Then Skallagrim +spoke. + +“We have seen the Valkyries,” he said. + +“Nay,” answered Eric, “we have seen the Norns—who are come to warn us +of our doom! We shall die to-morrow.” + +“At the least,” said Skallagrim, “we shall not die alone: we had a +goodly bed on yonder goblin ship, and all of our own slaying methinks. +It is not so ill to die thus, lord!” + +“Not so ill!” said Eric; “and yet I am weary of blood and war, of glory +and of my strength. Now I desire rest alone. Light fire—I can bear this +darkness no longer; the marrow freezes in my bones.” + +“Fire can be seen of foes,” said Skallagrim. + +“It matters little now,” said Eric, “we are feyfolk.” + +So Skallagrim lighted the fire, piling much brushwood and dry turf over +it, till presently it burnt up brightly, throwing light on all the +space of rock, and heavy shadows against the cliff behind. They sat +thus a while in the light of the flames, looking towards the deep gulf, +till suddenly there came a sound as of one who climbed the gulf. + +“Who comes now, climbing where no man may pass?” cried Eric, seizing +Whitefire and springing to his feet. Presently he sank down again with +white face and staring eyes, and pointed at the edge of the cliff. And +as he pointed, the neck of a man rose in the shadow above the brink, +and the hands of a man grasped the rock. But there was no head on the +neck. The shape of the headless man drew itself slowly over the brink, +it walked slowly into the light towards the fire, then sat itself down +in the glare of the flames, which shrank away from it as from a draught +of wind. Pale with terror, Eric and Skallagrim looked on the headless +thing and knew it. It was the wraith of the Baresark that Brighteyes +had slain—the first of all the men he slew. + +“It is my mate, Eric, whom thou didst kill years ago and whose severed +head spoke with thee!” gasped Skallagrim. + +“It is he, sure enough!” said Eric; “but where may his head be?” + +“Perchance the head will come,” answered Skallagrim. “He is an evil +sight to see, surely. Say, lord, shall I fall upon him, though I love +not the task?” + +“Nay, Skallagrim, let him bide; he does but come to warn us of our +fate. Moreover, ghosts can only be laid in one way—by the hewing off of +the head and the laying of it at the thigh. But this one has no head to +hew.” + +Now as he spoke the headless man turned his neck as though to look. +Once more there came the sound of feet and lo! men marched in from the +darkness on either side. Eric and Skallagrim looked up and knew them. +They were those of Ospakar’s folk whom they had slain on Horse-Head +Heights; all their wounds were on them and in front of them marched +Mord, Ospakar’s son. The ghosts gazed upon Eric and Skallagrim with +cold dead eyes, then they too sat down by the fire. Now once more there +came the sound of feet, and from every side men poured in who had died +at the hands of Eric and Skallagrim. First came those who fell on that +ship of Ospakar’s which Eric sank by Westmans; then the crew of the +Raven who had perished upon the sea-path. Even as the man died, so did +each ghost come. Some had been drowned and their harness dripped water! +Some had died of spear-thrusts and the spears were yet fixed in their +breasts! Some had fallen beneath the flash of Whitefire and the weight +of the axe of Skallagrim, and there they sat, looking on their wide +wounds! + +Then came more and more. There were those whom Eric and Skallagrim had +slain upon the seas, those who had fallen before them in the English +wars, and all that company who had been drowned in the waters of the +Pentland Firth when the witchcraft of Swanhild had brought the Gudruda +to her wreck. + +“Now here we have a goodly crew,” said Eric at length. “Is it done, +thinkest thou, or will Mosfell send forth more dead?” + +As he spoke the wraith of a grey-headed man drew near. He had but one +arm, for the other was hewn from him, and the byrnie on his left side +was red with blood. + +“Welcome, Earl Atli!” cried Eric. “Sit thou over against me, who +to-morrow shall be with thee.” + +The ghost of the Earl seated itself and looked on Eric with sad eyes, +but it spake never a word. + +Then came another company, and at their head stalked black Ospakar. + +“These be they who died at Middalhof,” cried Eric. “Welcome, Ospakar! +that marriage-feast of thine went ill!” + +“Now methinks we are overdone with trolls,” said Skallagrim; “but see! +here come more.” + +As he spoke, Hall of Lithdale came, and with him Koll the Half-witted, +and others. And so it went on till all the men whom Eric and Skallagrim +had slain, or who had died because of them, or at their side, were +gathered in deep ranks before them. + +“Now it is surely done,” said Eric. + +“There is yet a space,” said Skallagrim, pointing to the other side of +the fire, “and Hell holds many dead.” + +Even as the words left his lips there came a noise of the galloping of +horse’s hoofs, and one clad in white rode up. It was a woman, for her +golden hair flowed down about her white arms. Then she slid from the +horse and stood in the light of the fire, and behold! her white robe +was red with blood, a great sword was set in her heart, and the face +and eyes were the face and eyes of Gudruda the Fair, and the horse she +rode was Blackmane, that Eric had slain. + +Now when Brighteyes saw her he gave a great cry. + +“Greeting, sweet!” he said. “I am no longer afraid, since thou comest +to bear me company. Thou art dear to my sight—ay even in yon +death-sheet. Greeting, sweet, my May! I laid thee stiff and cold in the +earth at Middalhof, but, like a loving wife, thou hast burst thy bonds, +and art come to save me from the grip of trolls. Thou art welcome, +Gudruda, Asmund’s daughter! Come, wife, sit thou at my side.” + +The ghost of Gudruda spake no word. She walked through the fire towards +him, and the flames went out beneath her feet, to burn up again when +she had passed. Then she sat down over against Eric and looked on him +with wide and tender eyes. Thrice he stretched out his arms to clasp +her, but thrice their strength left them and they fell back to his +side. It was as though they struck a wall of ice and were numbed by the +bitter cold. + +“Look, here are more,” groaned Skallagrim. + +Then Eric looked, and lo! the empty space to the left of the fire was +filled with shadowy shapes like shapes of mist. Amongst them was Gizur, +Ospakar’s son, and many a man of his company. There, too, was Swanhild, +Groa’s daughter, and a toad nestled in her breast. She looked with wide +eyes upon the eyes of dead Gudruda’s ghost, that seemed not to see her, +and a stare of fear was set on her lovely face. Nor was this all; for +there, before that shadowy throng, stood two great shapes clad in their +harness, and one was the shape of Eric and one the shape of Skallagrim. + +Thus, being yet alive, did these two look upon their own wraiths! + +Then Eric and Skallagrim cried out aloud and their brains swam and +their senses left them, so that they swooned. + +When they opened their eyes and life came back to them the fire was +dead, and it was day. Nor was there any sign of that company which had +been gathered on the rock before them. + +“Skallagrim,” quoth Eric, “it seems that I have dreamed a strange +dream—a most strange dream of Norns and trolls!” + +“Tell me thy dream, lord,” said Skallagrim. + +So Eric told all the vision, and the Baresark listened in silence. + +“It was no dream, lord,” said Skallagrim, “for I myself have seen the +same things. Now this is in my mind, that yonder sun is the last that +we shall see, for we have beheld the death-shadows. All those who were +gathered here last night wait to welcome us on Bifrost Bridge. And the +mist-shapes who sat there, amongst whom our wraiths were numbered, are +the shapes of those who shall die in the great fight to-day. For days +are fled and we are sped!” + +“I would not have it otherwise,” said Eric. “We have been greatly +honoured of the Gods, and of the ghost-kind that are around us and +above us. Now let us make ready to die as becomes men who have never +turned back to blow, for the end of the story should fit the beginning, +and of us there is a tale to tell.” + +“A good word, lord,” answered Skallagrim: “I have struck few strokes to +be shamed of, and I do not fear to tread Bifrost Bridge in thy company. +Now we will wash ourselves and eat, so that our strength may be whole +in us.” + +So they washed themselves with water, and ate merrily, and for the +first time for many months Eric was merry. For now that the end was at +hand his heart grew light within him. And when they had put the desire +of food from them, and buckled on their harness, they looked out from +their mountain height, and saw a cloud of dust rise in the desert plain +of black sand beneath, and through it the sheen of spears. + +“Here come those of whom, if there is truth in visions, some few shall +never go back again,” said Eric. “Now, what counsel hast thou, +Skallagrim? Where shall we meet them? Here on the space of rock, or +yonder in the deep way of the cliff?” + +“My counsel is that we meet them here,” said Skallagrim, “and cut them +down one by one as they try to turn the rock. They can scarcely come at +us to slay us here so long as our arms have strength to smite.” + +“Yet they will come, though I know not how,” answered Eric, “for I am +sure of this, that our death lies before us. Here, then, we will meet +them.” + +Now the cloud of dust drew nearer, and they saw that this was a great +company which came up against them. At the foot of the fell the men +stayed and rested a while, and it was not till afternoon that they +began to climb the mountain. + +“Night will be at hand before the game is played,” said Skallagrim. +“See, they climb slowly, saving their strength, and yonder among them +is Swanhild in a purple cloak.” + +“Ay, night will be at hand, Skallagrim—a last long night! A hundred to +two—the odds are heavy; yet some shall wish them heavier. Now let us +bind on our helms.” + +Meanwhile Gizur and his folk crept up the paths from below. Now that +thrall who knew the secret way had gone on with six chosen men, and +already they climbed the watercourse and drew near to the flat crest of +the fell. But Eric and Skallagrim knew nothing of this. So they sat +down by the turning place that is over the gulf and waited, singing of +the taking of the Raven and of the slaying in the stead at Middalhof, +and telling tales of deeds that they had done. And the thrall and his +six men climbed on till at length they gained the crest of the fell, +and, looking over, saw Eric and Skallagrim beneath them. + +“The birds are in the snare, and hark! they sing,” said the thrall; +“now bring rocks and be silent.” + +But Gizur and his people, having learned that Eric and Skallagrim were +alone upon the mountain, pushed on. + +“We have not much to fear from two men,” said Gizur. + +“That we shall learn presently,” answered Swanhild. “I tell thee this, +that I saw strange sights last night, though I did not sleep. I may +sleep little now that Gudruda is dead, for that which I saw in her eyes +haunts me.” + +Then they went on, and the face of Gizur grew white with fear. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII +HOW ERIC AND SKALLAGRIM FOUGHT THEIR LAST GREAT FIGHT + + +Now the thrall and those with him on the crest of the fell heard the +murmur of the company of Gizur and Swanhild as they won the mountain +side, though they could not see them because of the rocks. + +“Now it is time to begin and knock these birds from their perch,” said +the thrall, “for that is an awkward corner for our folk to turn with +Whitefire and the axe of Skallagrim waiting on the farther side.” + +So he balanced a great stone, as heavy as three men could lift, on the +brow of the rock, and aimed it. Then he pushed and let it go. It smote +the platform beneath with a crash, two fathoms behind the spot where +Eric and Skallagrim sat. Then it flew into the air, and, just as +Brighteyes turned at the sound, it struck the wings of his helm, and, +bursting the straps, tore the golden helm-piece from his head and +carried it away into the gulf beneath. + +Skallagrim looked up and saw what had come about. + +“They have gained the crest of the fell,” he cried. “Now we must fly +into the cave or down the narrow way and hold it.” + +“Down the narrow way, then,” said Eric, and while rocks, spears and +arrows rushed between and around them, they stepped on to the stone and +won the path beyond. It was clear, for Gizur’s folk had not yet come, +and they ran nearly to the mouth of it, where there was a bend in the +way, and stood there side by side. + +“Thou wast at death’s door then, lord!” said Skallagrim. + +“Head-piece is not head,” answered Eric; “but I wonder how they won the +crest of the fell. I have never heard tell of any path by which it +might be gained.” + +“There they are at the least,” said Skallagrim. “Now this is my will, +that thou shouldst take my helm. I am Baresark and put little trust in +harness, but rather in my axe and strength alone.” + +“I will not do that,” said Eric. “Listen: I hear them come.” + +Presently the tumult of voices and the tramp of feet grew clearer, and +after a while Gizur, Swanhild, and the men of their following turned +the corner of the narrow way, and lo! there before them—ay within three +paces of them—stood Eric and Skallagrim shoulder to shoulder, and the +light poured down upon them from above. + +They were terrible to see, and the light shone brightly on Eric’s +golden hair and Whitefire’s flashing blade, and the shadows lay dark on +the black helm of Skallagrim and in the fierce black eyes beneath. + +Back surged Gizur and those with him. Skallagrim would have sprung upon +them, but Eric caught him by the arm, saying: “A truce to thy Baresark +ways. Rush not and move not! Let us stand here till they overwhelm us.” + +Now those behind Gizur cried out to know what ailed them that they +pushed back. + +“Only this,” said Gizur, “that Eric Brighteyes and Skallagrim Lambstail +stand like two grey wolves and hold the narrow way.” + +“Now we shall have fighting worth the telling of,” quoth Ketel the +viking. “On, Gizur, Ospakar’s son, and cut them down!” + +“Hold!” said Swanhild; “I will speak with Eric first,” and, together +with Gizur and Ketel, she passed round the corner of the path and came +face to face with those who stood at bay there. + +“Now yield, Eric,” she cried. “Foes are behind and before thee. Thou +art trapped, and hast little chance of life. Yield thee, I say, with +thy black wolf-hound, so perchance thou mayest find mercy even at the +hands of her whose husband thou didst wrong and slay.” + +“It is not my way to yield, lady,” answered Eric, “and still less +perchance is it the way of Skallagrim. Least of all will we yield to +thee who, after working many ills, didst throw me in a witch-sleep, and +to him who slew the wife sleeping at my side. Hearken, Swanhild: here +we stand, awaiting death, nor will we take mercy from thy hand. For +know this, we shall not die alone. Last night as we sat on Mosfell we +saw the Norns weave our web of fate upon their loom of darkness. They +sat on Helca’s dome and wove their pictures in living flame, then rent +the web and flew upward and southward and westward, crying our doom to +sky and earth and sea. Last night as we sat by the fire on Mosfell all +the company of the dead were gathered round us—ay! and all the company +of those who shall die to-day. Thou wast there, Gizur the murderer, +Ospakar’s son! thou wast there, Swanhild the witch, Groa’s daughter! +thou wast there, Ketel Viking! with many another man; and there were we +two also. Valkyries have kissed us and death draws near. Therefore, +talk no more, but come and make an end. Greeting, Gizur, thou +woman-murderer! Draw nigh! draw nigh! Out sword! up shield! and on, +thou son of Ospakar!” + +Swanhild spoke no more, and Gizur had no word. + +“On, Gizur! Eric calls thee,” quoth Ketel Viking; but Gizur slunk back, +not forward. + +Then Ketel grew mad with rage and shame. He called to the men, and they +drew near, as many as might, and looked doubtfully at the pair who +stood before them like rocks upon a plain. Eric laughed aloud and +Skallagrim gnawed the edge of his shield. Eric laughed aloud and the +sound of his laughter ran up the rocks. + +“We are but two,” he cried, “and ye are many! Is there never a pair +among you will stand face to face with a Baresark and a helmless man?” +and he tossed Whitefire high into the air and caught it by the hilt. + +Then Ketel and another man of his following sprang forward with an +oath, and their axes thundered loud on the shields of Eric and of +Skallagrim. But Whitefire flickered up and the axe of Skallagrim +crashed, and at once their knees were loosened, so that they sank down +dead. + +“More men! more men!” cried Eric. “These were brave, but their might +was little. More men for the Grey Wolf’s maw!” + +Then Swanhild lashed the folk with bitter words, and two of them sprang +on. They sprang on like hounds upon a deer at bay, and they rolled back +as gored hounds roll from the deer’s horns. + +“More men! more men!” cried Eric. “Here lie but four and a hundred +press behind. Now he shall win great honour who lays Brighteyes low and +brings down the helm of Skallagrim.” + +Again two came on, but they found no luck, for presently they also were +down upon the bodies of those who went before. Now none could be found +to come up against the pair, for they fought like Baldur and Thor, and +none could touch them, and no harness might withstand the weight of +their blows that shore through shield and helm and byrnie, deep to the +bone beneath. Then Eric and Skallagrim leaned upon their weapons and +mocked their foes, while these cursed and tore their beards with rage +and shame. + +Now it is to be told that when the thrall and those with him saw Eric +and Skallagrim had escaped their rocks and spears, they took counsel, +and the end of it was that they slid down a rope to the platform that +is under the crest of the fell. Thence, though they could see nothing, +they could hear the clang of blows and the shouts of those who fought +and fell—ay! and the mocking of Eric and of Skallagrim. + +“Now it goes thus,” said the thrall, who was a cunning man: “Eric and +Skallagrim hold the narrow way and none can stand against them. This, +then, is my rede: that we turn the rock and take them in the back.” + +His fellows thought this a good saying, and one by one they stood upon +the little rock and won the narrow way. They crept along this till they +were near to Eric and Skallagrim. Now Swanhild, looking up, saw them +and started. Skallagrim noted this and glanced over his shoulder, and +that not too soon, for, as he looked, the thrall lifted sword to smite +the head of Eric. + +With a shout of “Back to back!” the Baresark swung round and ere ever +the sword might fall his axe was buried deep in the thrall’s breast. + +“Now we must cut our path through them,” said Skallagrim, “and, if it +may be, win the space that is before the cave. Keep them off in front, +and I will mind these mannikins.” + +Now Gizur’s folk, seeing what had come about, took heart and fell upon +Eric with a rush, and those who were with the dead thrall rushed at +Skallagrim, and there began such a fight as has not been known in +Iceland. But the way was so narrow that scarce more than one man could +come to each of them at a time. And so fierce and true were the blows +of Eric and Skallagrim that of those who came on few went back. Down +they fell, and where they fell they died, and for every man who died +Eric and Skallagrim won a pace towards the point of rock. Whitefire +flamed so swift and swept so wide that it seemed to Swanhild, watching, +as though three swords were aloft at once, and the axe of Skallagrim +thundered down like the axe of a woodman against a tree, and those +groaned on whom it fell as groans a falling tree. Now the shields of +these twain were hewn through and through, and cast away, and their +blood ran from many wounds. Still, their life was whole in them and +they plied axe and sword with both hands. And ever men fell, and ever, +fighting hard, they drew nearer to the point of rock. + +Now it was won, and now all the company that came with the thrall from +over the mountain brow were dead or sorely wounded at the hands of +black Skallagrim. Lo! one springs on Eric, and Gizur creeps behind him. +Whitefire leaps to meet the man and does not leap in vain; but Gizur +smites a coward blow at Eric’s uncovered head, and wounds him sorely, +so that he falls to his knee. + +“Now I am smitten to the death, Skallagrim,” cries Eric. “Win the rock +and leave me.” Yet he rises from his knee. + +Then Skallagrim turns, red with blood and terrible to see. + +“‘Tis but a scratch. Climb thou the rock—I follow,” he says, and, +screaming like a horse, with weapon aloft he leaps alone upon the foe. +They break before the Baresark rush; they break, they fall—they are +cloven by Baresark axe and trodden of Baresark feet! They roll back, +leaving the way clear—save for the dead. Then Skallagrim follows +Brighteyes to the rock. + +Now Eric wipes the gore from his eyes and sees. Then, slowly, and with +a reeling brain, he steps down upon the giddy point. He goes near to +falling, yet does not fall, for now he lies upon the open space, and +creeps on hands and knees to the rock-wall that is by the cave, and +sits resting his back against it, Whitefire on his knee. + +Before he is there, Skallagrim staggers to his side with a rush. + +“Now we have time to breathe, lord,” he gasps. “See, here is water,” +and he takes a pitcher that stands by, and gives Eric to drink from the +pool, then drinks himself and pours the rest of the water on Eric’s +wound. Then new life comes to them, and they both stand on their feet +and win back their breath. + +“We have not done so badly!” says Skallagrim, “and we are still a match +for one or two. See, they come! Say, where shall we meet them, lord?” + +“Here,” quoth Eric; “I cannot stand well upon my legs without the help +of the rock. Now I am all unmeet for fight.” + +“Yet shall this last stand of thine be sung of!” says Skallagrim. + +Now finding none to stay them, the men of Gizur climb one by one upon +the rock and win the space that is beyond. Swanhild goes first of all, +because she knows well that Eric will not harm her, and after her come +Gizur and the others. But many do not come, for they will lift sword no +more. + +Now Swanhild draws near and looks on Eric and mocks him in the +fierceness of her heart and the rage of her wolf-love. + +“Now,” she says, “now are Brighteyes dim eyes! What! weepest thou, +Eric?” + +“Ay, Swanhild,” he answered, “I weep tears of blood for those whom thou +hast brought to doom.” + +She draws nearer and speaks low to him: “Hearken, Eric. Yield thee! +Thou hast done enough for honour, and thou art not smitten to the death +of yonder cowardly hound. Yield and I will nurse thee back to health +and bear thee hence, and together we will forget our hates and woes.” + +“Not twice may a man lie in a witch’s bed,” said Eric, “and my troth is +plighted to other than thee, Swanhild.” + +“She is dead,” says Swanhild. + +“Yes, she is dead, Swanhild; and I go to seek her amongst the dead—I go +to seek her and to find her!” + +But the face of Swanhild grew fierce as the winter sea. + +“Thou hast put me away for the last time, Eric! Now thou shalt die, as +I have promised thee and as I promised Gudruda the Fair!” + +“So shall I the more quickly find Gudruda and lose sight of thy evil +face, Swanhild the harlot! Swanhild the murderess! Swanhild the witch! +For I know this: thou shalt not escape!—thy doom draws on also!—and +haunted and accursed shalt thou be for ever! Fare thee well, Swanhild; +we shall meet no more, and the hour comes when thou shalt grieve that +thou wast ever born!” + +Now Swanhild turned and called to the folk: “Come, cut down these +outlaw rogues and make an end. Come, cut them down, for night draws +on.” + +Then once more the men of Gizur closed in upon them. Eric smote thrice +and thrice the blow went home, then he could smite no more, for his +strength was spent with toil and wounds, and he sank upon the ground. +For a while Skallagrim stood over him like a she-bear o’er her young +and held the mob at bay. Then Gizur, watching, cast a spear at Eric. It +entered his side through a cleft in his byrnie and pierced him deep. + +“I am sped, Skallagrim Lambstail,” cried Eric in a loud voice, and all +men drew back to see giant Brighteyes die. Now his head fell against +the rock and his eyes closed. + +Then Skallagrim, stooping, drew out the spear and kissed Eric on the +forehead. + +“Farewell, Eric Brighteyes!” he said. “Iceland shall never see such +another man, and few have died so great a death. Tarry a while, lord; +tarry a while—I come—I come!” + +Then crying “_Eric! Eric!_” the Baresark fit took him, and once more +and for the last time Skallagrim rushed screaming upon the foe, and +once more they rolled to earth before him. To and fro he rushed, +dealing great blows, and ever as he went they stabbed and cut and +thrust at his side and back, for they dared not stand before him, till +he bled from a hundred wounds. Now, having slain three more men, and +wounded two others, Skallagrim might no more. He stood a moment swaying +to and fro, then let his axe drop, threw his arms high above him, and +with one loud cry of “_Eric!_” fell as a rock falls—dead upon the dead. + +But Eric was not yet gone. He opened his eyes and saw the death of +Skallagrim and smiled. + +“Well ended, Lambstail!” he said in a faint voice. + +“Lo!” cried Gizur, “yon outlawed hound still lives! Now I will do a +needful task and make an end of him, and so shall Ospakar’s sword come +back to Ospakar’s son.” + +“Thou art wondrous brave now that the bear lies dying!” said Swanhild. + +Now it seemed that Eric heard the words, for suddenly his might came +back to him, and he staggered to his knees and thence to his feet. +Then, as folk fall from him, with all his strength he whirls Whitefire +round his head till it shines like a wheel of fire. “Thy service is +done and thou art clean of Gudruda’s blood—go back to those who forged +thee!” Brighteyes cries, and casts Whitefire from him towards the gulf. + +Away speeds the great blade, flashing like lightning through the rays +of the setting sun, and behold! as men watch it is gone—gone in +mid-air! + +Since that day no such sword as Whitefire has been known in Iceland. + +“Now slay thou me, Gizur,” says the dying Eric. + +Gizur comes on with little eagerness, and Eric cries aloud: + +“Swordless I slew thy father!—swordless, shieldless, and wounded to the +death I will yet slay _thee_, Gizur the Murderer!” and with a loud cry +he staggered towards him. + +Gizur smites him with his sword, but Eric does not stay, and while men +wait and wonder, Brighteyes sweeps him into his great arms—ay, sweeps +him up, lifts him from the ground and reels on. + +Eric reels on to the brink of the gulf. Gizur sees his purpose, +struggles and shrieks aloud. But the strength of the dying Eric is more +than the strength of Gizur. Now Brighteyes stands on the dizzy edge and +the light of the passing sun flames about his head. And now, bearing +Gizur with him, he hurls himself out into the gulf, and lo! the sun +sinks! + +Men stand wondering, but Swanhild cries aloud: + +“Nobly done, Eric! nobly done! So I would have seen thee die who of all +men wast the first!” + +This then was the end of Eric Brighteyes the Unlucky, who of all +warriors that have lived in Iceland was the mightiest, the goodliest, +and the best beloved of women and of those who clung to him. + +Now, on the morrow, Swanhild caused the body of Eric to be searched for +in the cleft, and there they found it, floating in water and with the +dead Gizur yet clasped in its bear-grip. Then she cleansed it and +clothed it again in its rent armour, and bound on the Hell-shoes, and +it was carried on horses to the sea-side, and with it were borne the +bodies of Skallagrim Lambstail the Baresark, Eric’s thrall, and of all +those men whom they had slain in the last great fight on Mosfell, that +is now named Ericsfell. + +Then Swanhild drew her long dragon of war, in which she had come from +Orkneys, from its shed over against Westman Isles, and in the centre of +the ship, she piled the bodies of the slain in the shape of a bed, and +lashed them fast. And on this bed she laid the corpse of Eric +Brighteyes, and the breast of black Skallagrim the Baresark was his +pillow, and the breast of Gizur, Ospakar’s son, was his foot-rest. + +Then she caused the sails to be hoisted, and went alone aboard the long +ship, the rails of which were hung with the shields of the dead men. + +And when at evening the breeze freshened to a gale that blew from the +land, she cut the cable with her own hand, and the ship leapt forward +like a thing alive, and rushed out in the red light of the sunset +towards the open sea. + +Now ever the gale freshened and folk, standing on Westman Heights, saw +the long ship plunge past, dipping her prow beneath the waves and +sending the water in a rain of spray over the living Swanhild, over the +dead Eric and those he lay upon. + +And by the head of Eric Brighteyes, her hair streaming on the wind, +stood Swanhild the Witch, clad in her purple cloak, and with rings of +gold about her throat and arms. She stood by Eric’s head, swaying with +the rush of the ship, and singing so sweet and wild a song that men +grew weak who heard it. + +Now, as the people watched, two white swans came down from the clouds +and sped on wide wings side by side over the vessel’s mast. + +The ship rushed on through the glow of sunset into the gathering night. +On sped the ship, but still Swanhild sung, and still the swans flew +over her. + +The gale grew fierce, and fiercer yet. The darkness gathered deep upon +the raging sea. + +Now that ship was seen no more, and the death-song of Swanhild as she +passed to doom was never heard again. + +For swans and ship, and Swanhild, and dead Eric and his dead foes, were +lost in the wind and the night. + +But far out on the sea a great flame of fire leapt up towards the sky. + +Now this is the tale of Eric Brighteyes, Thorgrimur’s son; of Gudruda +the Fair, Asmund’s daughter; of Swanhild the Fatherless, Atli’s wife, +and of Ounound, named Skallagrim Lambstail, the Baresark, Eric’s +thrall, all of whom lived and died before Thangbrand, Wilibald’s son, +preached the White Christ in Iceland. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ERIC BRIGHTEYES *** + +***** This file should be named 2721-0.txt or 2721-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/7/2/2721/ + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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