Chapter 4 No.4

It was even as I thought. There lay in state, as his men had left him, a wonderful old chief, whose long, white beard swept like a snowdrift down the crimson cloak in which he was shrouded. They had set him on just such a low, carved bedstead as that which we had found outside the house, dressed in his full mail, and helmed, and with his sword at his side, such a priceless weapon, with gold-mounted scabbard and jewelled hilt, as men have risked the terrors of grave mounds to win.

His white hand rested on the pommel, and he was facing forward as if looking toward the far shore which he was to reach through the flames. But there was naught terrible in his look, and even my fears passed as I saw the peacefulness of that last sleep.

The smoke thinned quickly from the chamber; for it had only soaked into it from the peat against its roughly made walls, over which the fagots had been piled too heavily and closely for their purpose. Then we saw that all the deck round the bier was full of caskets and bales, and that on the far wall hung weapons--swords and axes, spears, and bows and arrows, and with them mail shirts and helms and shields, such as the chief himself might wear. And by the side of the chief, packed carefully in a rushen basket, were the bowls, one metal, and the rest of black earthenware, which held the food for the grave, according to our custom. There was a tall jar of wine also, covered with its little silver drinking cup.

Now we stood for a little while silent, and then Dalfin spoke.

"What is that yonder?" he asked under his breath, and pointing to the far end of the chamber. "As it were a heap of mail and linen."

I could not see what he meant, for I stood on one side, but Bertric stepped a pace toward him, and looked more closely past the bier, which almost hid whatever the pile might be. It seemed the only thing set carelessly, for all else was in perfect order. Then he started somewhat, and spoke hurriedly.

"As I live," he cried, but so low that the cry was all but stifled, "it is a girl! Is she also dead or in a swoon?"

He stooped, after a moment's doubt, and went straight into the place. It was so low at the sides of the bier which he must pass, that he was almost double until he reached the foot, and stood up under the ridge. Then he bent, and lifting his burden brought it out into the open air, carrying it toward the after deck away from the penthouse.

Then we saw that it was indeed a girl, tall and pale, with long tresses of yellow-golden hair plaited and bound with some strange gold-woven blue band, dressed in white, with a beautiful light coat of mail over the kirtle.

"She is alive," said Bertric, setting her down very gently. "Either the smoke in that close chamber--or fear--has overcome her. One of you get water from the cask forward."

I went hastily; but I had to search for somewhat in which to bring it, and was a few minutes before I found where the ship's buckets hung under the gunwale right forward. But meanwhile, Dalfin, with no fears in him, had gone gently to the penthouse and brought thence the pitcher of wine and the silver bowl, so that when I came back those two were trying to get some of the wine between the pale lips, though without much success. Now we bathed her face with the cool water, and presently the colour began to come back slowly, though she did not stir.

"We are rough nurses at best," said Bertric; "but we can do better than this. Let us get the bedstead that is forward, and set a fold or two of the awning on it for her to rest on. Better than the hard deck when she comes to herself, and maybe not so terrifying."

We left Dalfin to tend her, and brought the bedstead and canvas with all speed, and so lifted her on it. Then Bertric went back into the house and brought thence a blue cloak which lay where she had fallen, and covered her with it, for the night was chill now. It was her own, and with it he brought a light helm made of steel bands and transparent horn between them, which must have fallen from her head.

Maybe this maiden was of twenty years, or less, and to me, at least, who had no sisters as had the others, she seemed beautiful altogether. I know that had she faced us in life in the entry of the chamber, clad as she was in her mail and helm, I had been sure that she was a Valkyria, sent hither by Odin to choose the hero yonder for his halls.

"She is long in coming round," said Bertric presently. "It may be as well to close up that chamber before she sees it open, lest she take us for common robbers, and be terrified."

Dalfin laughed a little.

"Helm and mail and fear should not go together," he said.

"She will wake without thought of what she has tried to be," answered Bertric. "Get the place closed, Malcolm, anywise."

Now Dalfin and I went together, and set back the timbers in their places. But they would not bide there properly, and I took up the hammer we had used to take them down, and drove one or two of the upper nails again lightly, Dalfin kneeling and holding the ends below. Whether the sharp click of the iron roused the girl or not I cannot say, but I had not driven more than three before I heard a little cry behind me, and turned to see if there was anything amiss.

The girl was sitting up, and seeming not to heed Bertric at all--for he was behind her and supporting her--was looking at us two with wide eyes of fear and wonder. And when I turned of a sudden, she set her hands together and held them out toward me as if she prayed, and cried to me:

"Asa Thor! Asa Thor! will you leave me? Is there no place in Freya's hall--in Gladsheim--for a maiden, if to Asgard she may not come?"

I had no answer. For the moment I thought that she saw some vision of the Asir beyond my ken, and then knew that it was indeed to myself that she spoke. For I stood at the door of the house of the dead, with Thor's weapon--the hammer--in my hand, and she wandered in her mind with the weakness that comes after a swoon.

"Hush, lady, hush," said Bertric in a wonderfully gentle voice. "It is not Thor whom you see, but only a friend."

But seeing that I made no answer, nor moved, for I was at a loss altogether, she turned to Dalfin, who still knelt beside me, watching her in blank amaze. The Norse gods were all but unknown to him, save perhaps as he had heard their names now and then from the Irish Danes.

"You must be Freyr, you other of the greeters of the slain. Speak for me, I pray you, to the hammer bearer, that I may go whither my grandfather is gone, if so be that I am dead."

"Nay, lady," said Dalfin, with all courtesy, "I do not know him you mean. I am only Dalfin, Prince of Maghera, of the northern O'Neills."

Now, at that magnificent "only" I saw Bertric trying to stifle somewhat like a grin beyond the shoulder of his charge.

"Lady," he said, "we are but mortal men. We are here to help you, for the ship has not taken fire, and you are safe."

She gave a little gasp and sank back on the roll of canvas we had set for a pillow, and her eyes closed. I put back the last timber hastily, and came aft, getting out of sight behind the bedstead, being in no wise willing to be hailed as Thor again. As for Dalfin, he poured out another cup of the wine and gave it to Bertric, who had signed to him for it.

"She will be herself directly," he said sagely. "Who was it that she took me for?"

"Only a heathen god, and a worthy one," answered the Saxon, setting the cup to the lips of the girl, and making her drink some of its contents slowly. "Neither you nor Malcolm will ever be held quite so highly again. Make the most of it."

I think that he meant the lady to hear him speak thus cheerfully, and it is certain that she did so. A little wan smile flitted across her face, and then she flushed red, and opened her eyes. Her first glance fell on the penthouse, and she shuddered somewhat. Then she sat up and looked round for us, seeing Bertric for the first time, as he stood at the head of the rough couch.

"Forgive me, friends," she said quietly. "I think I was not quite myself. I must have been in a long swoon. There was smoke also rising round me when last I knew anything."

Now she slipped from the bedstead and set her feet on the deck, facing us. I saw her look pass quickly over our dress, and minded that we were in no holiday trim. She saw Bertric in the thrall's dress, and Dalfin in his torn and scorched and sea-stained green hunting tunic and leather hose, and myself only in the Norse dress, and that war torn and grimed with the fight in the hall, which seemed so many years ago now, and with the long sea struggle that came thereafter. Yet she did not shrink from us.

"I cannot understand it all," she said. "How comes it that you are here, and thus? You seem as men who have fought, and are hardly yet restored after the weariness of fight."

"We have fought, lady, and have fared ill. We were captives and have escaped; and as we fled by sea we fell in with this ship when at our wits' end."

So I answered, for my comrades looked at me. The fight was mine, so to speak.

"It seems well for me," she said, smiling somewhat sadly. "I had no thought but to be burnt. Now I have escaped that. Tell me how it may have been."

I did so, wondering all the time how she came to be in that terrible place, for she spoke of escape. That she would tell us in her own time, no doubt.

"What can be done now?" she asked, speaking to us as to known friends, very bravely.

If she had doubts of us, she hid them. Perhaps that we owned to being escaped captives explained much to her--else she had surely wondered that the tattered Dalfin claimed to be a prince. Yet he was princely, both in look and bearing, as he rose up and made himself known, with a bow which none but a courtier could have compassed.

"Bertric is shipmaster," I said; "he will answer."

"The ship is yours, lady, and we can but serve you," he answered. "Now, it depends on the wind when it comes with dawn, as no doubt it will, what course we can take, for we are too few to work the ship rightly. We had thought of trying to make the Norway shore at the nearest point we could reach, and so setting the ship, and the hero who lies in her, in the hands of those who will do him the honour that he needs at the last."

At that, to our great surprise, she shook her head.

"That you cannot do; at least, you may not go back to the land whence he came. Hall and town may be in the hands of our worst foe, else I had not been here."

"We cannot be sure of making your haven in any case. We should have sought such haven as we might, had we been alone."

"And you thought nothing of the treasure, which will be surely taken from you?"

"We had not thought of it, lady. We have been on board the ship but three hours or so. What thought might have come to us I cannot say. But it is not ours, and we could not rob the dead."

He said that quite simply, and as the very truth, which must be to us as a matter of honour.

"Tell me who you are," she said. "The prince I know already. Dalfin, I think it was, an Irish name."

Dalfin bowed again, well pleased. Then he took on himself to make us known in turn, as gravely as if in his father's court.

"This is my host, Malcolm, son of the Norse Jarl of Caithness, who has unfortunately succeeded his brave father after a gallant fight, in which I was honoured in taking part. This is Bertric the Thane, of Lyme, in England, a shipmaster of long standing. He joined us when we two escaped from Heidrek, who calls himself the Seafarer, and held us captive after burning out my host and his folk."

"Heidrek the Seafarer!" she said, with a sharp sigh, looking up in wonder at us. "When was it that he did this harm to you?"

"It was three days ago," I answered. "He fell on us at dawn, and by noon we were at sea with him as captives. That same night we escaped, thanks to the young chief, Asbiorn."

"Then he came straightway from your home and fell on mine," she said gravely. "Surely the wrath of the Asir will fall on Heidrek ere long, if, indeed, the Asir care aught what a warrior does of wrong."

"Has he burnt you out also, lady?" asked Dalfin.

"That I doubt," she answered shortly. "But it was with his help that I myself was set afloat to be burned."

Then her strength seemed to give way at last as the fullness of her trouble came to her, and she turned from us and sank down sideways on the bed where she sat, and wept silently. It was hard for us to stand and see this; but we were helpless, not at all knowing what we could do. I suppose that we could have done nothing, in truth; but it seemed as if we ought to have been of some help in word, at least.

At last she ceased, and sat up again, trying to smile.

"Yesterday, I had thought myself far from such foolishness as this," she said. "Today, I know that this mail and helm of mine and the sword that lies yonder in the chamber where you found me are not fitting for me. They are an idle boast and empty. I am only a weak woman--and alone."

Almost was she to breaking down again, but she was brave. And then Bertric spoke for the three of us.

"Lady," he said, "we are homeless wanderers, but we would not have you think yourself altogether alone so long as we can plan for you. Mayhap we can do no more, but, at least, we shall see. I cannot think that all hope is lost. See, we have the ship, and it is high summer. Not one of us can be worse off than we have been of late, and we may win to comfort once more."

Thereat she looked at the three of us, and rose up and stretched her hands toward us, as in greeting.

"I will trust you," she said. "I will think of you as friends and brothers in trouble, and in enmity to Heidrek the evildoer. It must be that you three have wrought loyally together through the long storm, and you can never be aught but friends thereafter, for you have tried one another. Let me be as the fourth of you without favour."

"Lady," said Dalfin, "I have sisters at home, and they were wont to share all the sport of myself and my brothers, even as you say, as of our number without favour. But always the sisters had the favoured place, because we willed it, and should be unhappy if it were otherwise. There were some favours which they held as their unspoken right.

"Is not that so in your land, Bertric the Thane, and in yours, friend Malcolm the Jarl?"

Truly this Dalfin knew how to set things in the right way, for even I, who had no sisters, was not left out of that answer. So we both said that he was right, and she knew well what we meant, and was content. Moreover, by naming our titles once again, though they were barren enough here in all truth, he told her that it was on our honour to help her.

"I am more than content," she said softly. "I am no longer friendless. Now I will tell you what befell me, and then you shall plan what you may, not in anywise thinking too much of me, but for all four of us."

She set the blue cloak round her as if chill, and was silent, thinking for a few minutes. Bertric and I leant on the gunwale close by, and Dalfin set himself on the deck near us. And all the while she spoke, Bertric was glancing eastward across the still water for the first sign of the breeze we longed for. I know now that on him was a dread lest it should bring with it the brown sails of Heidrek's two ships; but he did not show it. It was likely that men would have watched for the smoke of the burning ship, and that when they did not see it, would put out to search, guessing what had happened.

"Yonder lies my grandfather," the lady said presently. "He was a king in the old days before Harald made himself the one ruler in the land who should so call himself. But he cared not at all for the name, so that he held his own place among his own people, and therefore let it be, for he was a friend of Harald's and helped him to the one throne. Whereby we have lived in peace till just now, when the old chief grew feeble. Then came my far cousin, Arnkel, and would take first place, for my father, the old man's son, was dead. That my grandfather would not suffer. He would have me rule, for I should not be the first woman who had done so in his little realm. One of my ancestresses fought as a shield maiden--as I thought myself until today--in the great Bravalla fight long ago. It is her mail which I have on now. Arnkel pretended to agree to this, being crafty. It pleased the chief, and deceived me--till yesterday. Then at last I knew that he did but wait for the death of my grandfather, Thorwald, and then would get rid of me and my claims. So Thorwald died, and we would set him in his ship and build a mound over her in all honour. But to do that must sail her from up the long fjord, where we have our place, to a low shore which lies open to the sea near its mouth, for with us is no place where we may find such a spot as we needed. A little village of ours is there on the coast, at which we might beach and draw up the ship; and so we made all ready, even as you see it now, save for closing the chamber, and sailed thither after the storm had passed, in the bright night. There we beached the ship, with the rollers under her, while the people made ready the place for the mound.

"Then suddenly, from over the near hills came Heidrek and his men, and fell on us as the folk worked. I sat on the deck here alone at that time, clad thus for the last rites, and saw the warriors swarm out of a little valley on my folk, and rose up to go to them with my arms. Then came Arnkel on board in haste, and bade me shelter in the chamber. The ship was to be set afloat lest the fight should go against us. But I would not go."

There she stopped, and a look of remembered terror crossed her face.

"He had two men with him; and all the rest--our courtmen and the freemen who loved me, as I think--were running to the fight. So they made no more ado, but carried me thither, bound me that I might not cry out, and then set up the timbers hastily and fastened them. So I must lie helpless and hear what went on. They went ashore, and soon the ship groaned and creaked over the rollers, but stopped before she was afloat. Men came then and cast things on board, which were the fagots and the peat for firing; but I could not cry out, for my head was too closely muffled. I think you would say that I was gagged. The noise of the fight went on, and seemed to come nearer. Then the ship took the water. I heard men leap on board her, and the sail was hoisted. One cried that the chief would have a fitting funeral after all, Heidrek or no Heidrek; and another said that the treasure Heidrek sought would be lost to him. I heard the creak of the yard, and I felt the ship swing to the wind, and then the men went over the side, and there was silence. Only from the shore after a little space came a great cry, 'Skoal to King Thorwald, and farewell!' and with that the war horns blew fiercely, and the battle cry rang again. Then came the terrible stifling smoke, and I knew that Arnkel had thus rid himself of me.

"Presently I freed myself from the gag and the bonds, and tried to beat down the end of the house, but I could not. I took an axe from the wall, feeling for it in the darkness, but I waxed faint and breathless, and the roof is low and I could not use it. I mind that I set it back; and that is all until I woke here to see, as I thought, Thor with his hammer and Freyr beside him, and so--"

That was all; and it was enough. Only Dalfin had one question to ask.

"I wonder this evil Arnkel parted with the treasure so lightly."

"My folk would not have let him lay hands on it in any case," she answered plainly. "And they would keep it from Heidrek."

"That is how the men of Heidrek fell on us," I said. "He must have landed his men beyond your sight, but not far off."

"There were two ships seen passing north in the storm," she said. "They will have been his, and he must have berthed them in some near fjord. There he would hear of this that was to be, and of the treasure which the old king took with him to his grave."

Then Bertric said thoughtfully enough:

"It may well be that the fight has gone hardly for Heidrek, else I think that he would have put off to follow the ship before this. After all, it may be that we can sail back to your fjord and tell this tale to your folk, and so make an end of Arnkel and his misdeeds. Now, lady--for as yet we do not know your name--we will rig the forward awning for you, and there you shall sleep. Here is this bed, and if there is aught else--"

"My name is Gerda," she answered, smiling. "I forgot that you could not know it. Yes, I am weary, and what you will do is most kind. See, there is one chest there which I would have with me. It holds the gear that was my grandmother's, and I may surely use it in my need. I had never to ask my grandsire for aught but he would give it me."

We had all ready in very little time, and there we left her, and she smiled at us and thanked us again, and so let fall the awning curtains and was gone. Then we three went aft and sat down and looked at one another. We had a new care thrust on us, and a heavy one.