Chapter 5 No.5

Bertric walked backward and forward, as a seaman ever will, across the deck, whistling softly to himself, and looking eastward.

"Once," he said, as if thinking aloud, "I was foolish enough to buy a bag full of wind from a Finn. He said that it depended on how much I let out what sort of breeze I had. When he was out of my reach, I found that he had not told me from which quarter the wind would come. So I hove the thing overboard. Now I wish I had it. Any wind is better than this doubt of what may come."

"Aye," I said. "We may be blown back into the arms of old Heidrek. What say you to taking one of these boats, or fitting out our own with their oars, and so trying to make the coast? Even Heidrek would pay no heed to a boat."

"We may have to do that yet," answered my friend. "Heidrek is not coming, or he would have sought this ship under oars at once. That Arnkel must have beaten him soundly--is that likely?"

"I think so," I said. "Every warrior would be in his war gear at that funeral, and it would be a full gathering of the king's folk. Now, I wonder how Arnkel explained the making away of the lady to her people."

"One may think of many lies he could tell. Men do not heed what goes on behind them when a fight is on hand. He will say that she fled, or that Heidrek's men took her--as the fight may go. They will search for her, in the first case, and presently think her lost for good."

"If there is one thing which I should like more than another," said Dalfin, "it would be to see Arnkel's face when we take back the lady."

"So we may--but not yet. We must know where Heidrek is. And we have to wait for wind. Eh, well! We had better sleep. I will take first watch."

"No, Bertric," I said; "do you two sleep. I could not if I tried."

"Why not?" he asked, with a great yawn. "I could sleep anywhere at this minute, and Dalfin is as bad."

"I think that I could not sleep with yonder chief so near me," I said frankly.

Dalfin laughed, though Bertric did not; but without more ado, they took the sail from the nearest boat and rolled themselves under it on the after deck. They were asleep in a moment, knowing that I would call them with the first sign of wind, if it came before my watch was ended. It wanted about an hour to midnight at this time, and the red glow of the sun in the sky was flooding the north.

Now for a long while I paced the deck, thinking of all that had happened in these few days. Heavy things they were, but the heaviest were those of the summer morning when Heidrek came, so that beside those terrors what else had passed was as nothing. And I passed through them all again, as it were, and hardened myself to bear them.

I have said little or nothing of my folk, and I needed not to do so. They were gone, and from henceforth I was alone. What had been was no more for me. Even the little Norse village in Caithness, which had been my home, was destroyed, so far as I was concerned, for the Scots would have stepped into our place, if it was worth having after the fire and sword had been there. I could never regain it. Only, there were some things which I owed to my father, and no man could take them from me while I lived. Skill in arms I had from his teaching, and such seamanship as a man of two-and-twenty may have learned in short cruises; woodcraft, too, and the many other things which the son of a jarl should know. And with these, health and strength, and a little Scots coolness, maybe; for I could see that if aught was to be won, I had only myself to look to for the winning.

So I, in the weird twilight that had fallen now with midnight, thought and tried to foresee what should be in the days to come, and could plan nothing. Only I knew that now, for the time at least, I and these two friends who slept had the lady yonder to care for before ourselves.

I tired of the short walk to and fro presently, and I think that at last I forgot my fears of the dead king in my thoughts, for I went nearer the penthouse, and sat myself on the starboard boat on the deck. There had risen a light curling mist from the still sea now, as the air cooled, and it wrapped the ship round with its white folds, and hid the height of the drooping sails and the dragon head forward; and presently it seemed to me that out of the mist came the wraiths of those of whom I thought, and drew near me, and I had neither fear nor joy of their coming.

My father came and sat himself beside me, and he was as I had seen him last, dressed in his mail, but with a peace on his face instead of the war light. My brothers came, and they stood before us, not smiling, but grave and content. The courtmen whom I had loved came, and they ranged themselves across the deck, and I watched them, and felt no wonder that they should be here. Surely my longings had called them, and they came. So I and they all bided still for a little while; and then the courtmen raised their weapons toward me as in salute, and drifted from the deck into the white mists over the water, and were gone. Then those two mighty brethren of mine smiled on me, with a still smile, and so they, too, were gone, and only my father was left; and he, too, rose up, and stood before me where the brothers had been, and it seemed to me that he spoke to me.

"Now are you the last of our line, the line which goes back to Odin, my son; and on you it lies that no dishonour shall fall on that line, which has never yet been stained. And we trust you. So be strong, for there are deeds to be done yet in the days that lie before you."

Then he set his hand on my shoulder, and passed to join those others, and how I do not know. I was alone.

Then a longing to be with them again came over me, and I rose and stretched my hands to the place where I had seen them, but there was nothing--until I turned a little, looking for them; and then I knew that there was one who would speak to me yet.

The penthouse chamber was open, and it seemed to be filled with a white light and soft, and in the doorway stood the old king, beckoning to me, so that, for all my fears, I must needs go to him. Yet there was naught for me to fear in the look which he turned on me.

"Friend," he said, "the old sea which I love should be my grave. See to it that so it shall be. Then shall you do the bidding of the maiden whom I have loved, my son's daughter, and it shall be well with you, and with those friends of yours and of mine who sleep yonder."

Therewith he paused, and his glance went to the things which lay round the boats and in them--the things which had been set in the ship for the hero to take to Asgard with him.

"See these things," he said again. "They are hers, and not mine. There will be a time when she will have need of them. In the place where I shall be is no need of treasure, as I deemed before I knew. Nor of sword, or mail, or gear of war at all. And the ways of the peace of that place are the best."

Then I was alone on the deck, and the tall figure with the long white beard and hair was no longer before me. The chamber was closed, even as we had left it, and there was neither sign nor sound to tell me how that had been wrought. And with that a terror came on me, and I went backward toward where my comrades lay, crying to them by name, and my knees failed me, and I fell on the deck, unknowing if they heard.

Bertric leapt up and saw me falling, and ran to me.

"Poor lad!" he said, "poor lad! Here is he worn out by fighting and watching, and I would let him watch yet more--I, who am used to the long hours at sea, and have grown hard in ill usage."

With that he called to Dalfin, who was sitting up sleepily, being as worn out as myself, and they two hapt me in the sail, and made me drink of the wine--which I would not have done at all, if I had rightly known what I was about, considering whence it came--and presently I came to myself and thanked them, feeling foolish. But more than that I did not do, for the warmth took hold of me, and I fell asleep with the words on my lips. Nor did Dalfin need a second bidding before he lay down again alongside me and slept. And so Bertric went on watch silently, and I heeded nothing more, till the sun and the heave of the ship on a long swell that was setting from the north woke me.

In the sunlight those visions which I had seen seemed as if they had been but wrought of weariness and weakness, and of the long thoughts which I had been thinking. I would heed them as little as I might, therefore, lest they took hold of me again. But I had not forgotten the words which had been spoken to me, for they were good, and in no wise fanciful.

I said nothing of what had happened before I cried out and fell. There was no need, for both Bertric and Dalfin made little of the matter, saying that it was no wonder, and that maybe I had been more hurt when I was struck down than I felt at the time--which is likely enough. However, I had no more trouble in that way. Food and sleep and the rest on that quiet deck were all that I needed.

"There is wind coming directly, and enough of of it, if not too much for us," Bertric said. "There has been a gale somewhere far north, to judge by this swell. Now, I want breakfast before it comes, but I dare not rouse the lady by getting yon kettle."

As if she had heard him, from beyond the penthouse we saw the lady herself coming, and we rose up to greet her. Dalfin went quickly, and helped her over the slanting timbers of the house, where they blocked the way, and so she came aft to us. She had taken off her mail, and had put on a warm, blue kirtle over her white dress, and had made some differences otherwise, which are past my setting down. But now she looked fresh and bright after the rest, and the utmost of the trouble had gone from her face.

She greeted us as if we were old friends of her own household, and that was good. Then she sat on the steersman's bench, which we set for her, and asked of the sea and wind, and the chances of the day, brightly. And so at last Bertric said what was nearest to his mind.

"The wind will be here shortly, lady, and meanwhile we were thinking of our breakfast. Yesterday we had no scruple in helping ourselves, but today we are somewhat shy, maybe. But we would bring the great kettle from forward, if you will break your fast with us."

"Friend Bertric," she said, laughing, "we made a pact concerning equal shares of favour and hardship alike. Yet I do not rightly know--"

She looked grave for a little while, staying her words and thinking.

"Aye," she said at last, with a smile; "this ship was provisioned for a long voyage--for the longest of all, indeed. It seems that for part of the way we have to be her crew. Well, then, we may take what we will of her stores, and do no wrong. The great cauldron, too, holds but part of the funeral feast, and that was mine. Aye, fetch it. There are other things also which may be found, and you can take of them."

But we had no need to search further, for what we had found last night was more than enough. We brought the cauldron aft, and some of the oatcake; and as we ate, first grew and darkened a long blue line which crossed the sea to the eastward, and then came stray airs which lifted the loose folds of the sail uselessly.

Bertric and I went forward and got out two of the ship's long oars, and pulled her head round to the southward. The water dimpled alongside of us and the sail filled as the breeze came. We laid in the oars and went aft to the helm; and so in a few minutes the ship had gathered way, and was heeling a little to the wind, and the foam gathered round her bows and slid along her side aft as she headed southward with the wind on her beam.

"Now, Lady Gerda," said Bertric, "we are under way once more, and the question is, Whither? How far are we from the Norway coast?"

"I cannot tell," she answered. "It was a little before noon, however, when the ship was set afloat, as I have told you."

"We overhauled her at sunset," he said thoughtfully. "At that time she was not doing more than four knots. Maybe we are fifty miles from shore, for she may have done better than that, though I doubt it, seeing how wildly she sailed. Now we can hardly beat back there, for we are too few to work the sail."

"It is as well," she answered sadly. "There wait Arnkel and Heidrek."

"We think that Arnkel may have made an end of Heidrek's power," I said.

At that she shook her head.

"Arnkel has had old dealings with Heidrek. He has sailed with him, I know. It is more likely that after he had done with me, he made some sort of terms with him, finding out who the attackers were. We did not know at first, but I heard the men name Heidrek as the ship was fired."

"Well, then," Bertric said, after a little thought, "we must try to make the Shetlands or the Orkneys. Malcolm will find us friends there."

So, that being quite possible if the wind held, and I being sure of welcome for my father's sake, we set a course for Shetland as nearly as we could judge it. The ship sailed wonderfully well and swiftly, even under the shortened canvas, and Bertric was happy as he steered her. And at his side on the bench sat the Lady Gerda, silently looking ever eastward toward the home she had lost, while I and Dalfin well-nigh dozed in the sun on the warm deck amidships in all content, for things went well with us.

Presently Gerda rose up and came forward, as if she would go to her awning, and I went to help her over the timbers again.

"Come forward with me," she said; "I have something I must say to you."

I followed her, and she went to the gunwale, close to the penthouse, where she was screened from Dalfin, and leant on it.

"You are of my own folk," she said, "and of the old faith, and therefore I can tell you what is troubling me. These other two good friends are of the new faith I have heard of, for I saw them sign their holy sign ere they ate, and you signed Thor's hammer over the meat."

"They are Christians," I said; "but I have nothing ill to say of that faith, for I have known many of them in Scotland. I am Odin's man."

"I have heard nothing but ill," she said. "I was frightened when I knew that they were not Odin's men. Will they keep faith with me?"

"To the last," I answered. "Have no fear of that. It is one thing which the Christian folk are taught to do before all else."

"I think that I could not mistrust these two in any case," she said; "but all this is not what I would speak of, though it came uppermost. What I am troubling about is this which lies here," and she set her hand for a moment on the penthouse. "What shall be done? For now we cannot fire the ship."

"If we make the Shetland Islands," I answered, "there are Norsemen who will see that all is done rightly. There they will lay the king in mound as becomes a chief of our land."

"And if not?"

"We might in any case make the Danish shore."

"Where a Norse chief will find no honour. Better that he were sunk in the sea here. I would that this might be done, if we have any doubt as to reaching a land where your folk were known."

"It may be done, Lady Gerda," I answered, while into my mind came the words which the old chief seemed to have spoken to me in the night. "It may be the best thing in the end. But let us wait. Shall I speak of this to the others for you?"

"Aye, do so," she said. "What have they thought?--for you three must have spoken thereof already."

"It has been in the mind of all of us to take the chief back to some land where he will be honoured. We have spoken of naught else as yet. I will say that it has seemed to me that the Christian folk have more care for the honour of the dead than have we."

"That is all I needed to hear," she said simply. "I have feared lest it had been rather the other way."

Now I looked aft, and saw Bertric staring under his hand astern, and stepped to the other gunwale to see what it was at which he looked. But I could make out nothing. The sea was rising a little, but that was of course as the breeze freshened steadily. There was no sign of change or of heavier weather to come, and no dark line along the eastward sea warned me of a coming squall. Yet Bertric still turned from the helm and looked astern.

"What is it?" asked Gerda. "Go and see, and call me if it is aught."

So I went aft again, and stood beside Bertric, asking him what had caught his eye.

"I cannot say for certain," he said; "but it seemed to me that for a moment somewhat like a sail lifted on the sea's rim off yonder."

He pointed off the port quarter, and turned to the helm again, leaving me to see if I could catch sight of what he had seen. Maybe it was but the dipping wing of a gull.

But it was not that. Presently I also saw the speck he meant, and it did not disappear again. It was the head of a square, brown sail, the ship herself to which it belonged being hull down, but holding the same course as ourselves, or thereabouts, so far as one could judge as yet. And before long a second hove up from astern the first.

"They are running a bit freer than we," Bertric said. "They have a shift of wind astern of them, whereby they are overhauling us."

"Two brown-sailed ships," said I. "They mind one too much of Heidrek to be pleasant, else one might welcome the coming of any honest Norsemen who would help us to do the right."

"Wait, and I will tell you," answered Bertric somewhat grimly. "I cannot mistake Heidrek's ships once I get a fair sight of them."

In half an hour or so he did tell me. They were undoubtedly Heidrek's, and were in chase of us. This ship was not to be mistaken even from a long distance.

"Heidrek has followed in the track this vessel must needs have taken, and now supposes that some stray fishers have picked her up and are trying to get away with her and the treasure. Well, that is near enough to the truth, too," said Bertric, laughing a short laugh. "No, let Dalfin and the lady rest in peace until we know if they outsail us. This is a wonderful little craft, but she needs her crew on board."