ACROSS THE SWAN’S PATH.
All that night, and during the morning of the next day, we sailed
steadily with a fresh northwest breeze that bade fair to strengthen
by-and-by. If it held, we should see the cliffs of Northumbria on our
bow tomorrow morning, and then would run down the coast to the Humber,
where my father meant to put in first. He thought to leave the queen
and Havelok with merchants whom he knew in Lindsey, and with them would
stay my mother and the little ones while he made a trading voyage
elsewhere. There would be time enough to find out the best place in
which to make a home when the autumn came, and after he had been to an
English port or two that he did not know yet.
When half the morning was past, the sun shone out warmly, and all came
on deck from the after cabin, where the ladies and children were. Our
men knew by this time that we had passengers, flying like ourselves
from Hodulf, and therefore they were not at all surprised to see
Havelok and his mother with their mistress. None of them had ever seen
either of them before, as it happened, though I do not think that any
could have recognized the queen as she was then, wan and worn with the
terror of her long hiding. Very silent was she as she sat on deck
gazing ever at the long white wake of the ship that seemed to stretch
for a little way towards Denmark, only to fade away as a track over
which one may never go back. And silent, too, was my mother; but the
children, who had no care, were pleased with all things, and Raven and
I were full of the ways of old seamen.
So everything went quietly until after we had our midday meal. We were
all amidships on the wide deck, except my father and Arngeir, who sat
side by side on the steersman’s bench on the high poop. There was no
spray coming on board, for we were running, and the ship was very
steady. Raven and I were forward with the men, busy with the many
little things yet to be done to the rigging and such like that had been
left in the haste at last, and there was no thought but that this
quiet, save for some shift of wind maybe, would last until we saw the
English shore.
Now I do not know if my father had seen aught from the after deck, but
presently he came forward, and passed up the steps to the forecastle,
and there sat down on the weather rail, looking out to leeward for some
time quietly. I thought that maybe he had sighted some of the high land
on the Scots coast, for it was clear enough to see very far, and so I
went to see also. But there was nothing, and we talked of this and that
for ten minutes, when he said, “Look and see if you can catch sight of
aught on the skyline just aft of the fore stay as you sit.”
I looked long, and presently caught sight of something white that
showed for a moment as we heaved up on a wave, and then was gone.
“Somewhat I saw,” I said, “but it has gone. It might have been the top
of a sail.”
Then I caught a glimpse of it again, and my father saw it also, and, as
we watched, it hove up slowly until it was plain to be seen. The vessel
it belonged to was sailing in such a way as to cross our course in the
end, though she was only a few points nearer the wind than we were. It
seemed that she was swifter than ourselves, too, from the way she kept
her place on our bow. Now a merchant must needs look on every sail with
more or less distrust, as there is always a chance of meeting with
ship-plundering Vikings, though the best of them will do naught but
take toll from a trader on the high seas. So before long all our men
were watching the stranger, and soon it was plain that she was a
longship, fresh from her winter quarters. We thought, therefore, that
she was not likely to trouble about us, having no need of stores as
yet, and we being plainly in ballast only. Nor did she alter her course
in any way, but mile after mile she sailed with us, always edging up
nearer as she went, until at last we could see the men on her bows and
the helmsman at his place.
I thought that one could hardly see a more handsome ship than she was,
fresh with new paint, and with her dragon head shining golden in the
sun. But I had seen her before, and that in no pleasant way. She was
the ship of which I have already spoken—that which we beat off two
years ago, taking their cargo of plunder by way of amends for being
attacked.
There was this difference, however, at that time, that then we had all
our men on board, and the Viking was short-handed after a fighting
raid, whereas now we had but fifteen men instead of five-and-twenty,
because in the hurry we had not had time to summon any who lived beyond
the town, and it was plain that the Viking had a full crew, maybe of
sixty men.
“It is in my mind,” my father said to Arngeir, “that our old foe will
think twice before he attacks us again; but seeing whom we have to deal
with, it is as well to be ready. We might keep him off with arrows, if
he does not find out how few we are, should he make an attempt on us;
but if he boards, we must submit, and make the best bargain we can.”
So he passed word that the men were to lie down on deck, leaving only a
few to be seen, that the Viking might think us as he had known us
before; and then the arms-chests were opened, and the bows and throwing
weapons were set to hand by us boys while the men armed themselves.
Then my father spoke to them, saying, “I do not know if this Viking
will pass us by as too hard a nut to crack, seeing that he knows of us
already; but if he does not, it will be of no use our trying to fight
him, as you can see. I would not waste your lives for naught. But it
may be that a show of force will keep him off, so we will wait under
arms until we are sure what he will do.”
Then the men broke out, saying that they had beaten this man before
with him as leader, and they were in no mind to give up without a
fight.
“Well, then,” my father answered, “it is plain that you will back me,
and so I will call on you if there is need or chance. But we have the
women folk to think of now, and we must not risk aught.”
Now the longship held on her course steadily, never shifting her helm
for so much as a point. In half an hour or so we must be alongside one
another, at this rate, and that Arngeir did not altogether like the
look of, for it would seem as if she meant to find out all about us at
least. There was some little sea running, and it might be thought
easier to board us on the lee side, therefore. We could not get away
from her in any way, for even now, while she was closer hauled than we,
she kept pace with us, and had she paid off to the same course as
ourselves, she would have left us astern in a very short time.
Presently a man swarmed up her rigging in order to look down on our
decks, and as he went up, my father bade our men crawl over to
windward, so that he should see all one gunwale lined with men, and so
think that both were, and deem that we were setting a trap for them in
order to entice them alongside by pretending to be hardly manned. At
the same time, he sent the ladies and children into the cabin, so that
they might not be seen.
That did not please Havelok at all, for he seemed to scent a fight in
the air, and wanted weapons, that he might stand beside the other men,
asking for an axe for choice. It was all that I could do to quiet him
by saying that if there was any need of him I would call him, but that
just now we thought the Vikings would go away if they saw many warriors
on deck. Which indeed was all that we hoped, but he thought that would
spoil sport, and so hastened into the shelter.
After that there fell a silence on us, for at any moment now we might
be hailed by the other ship. And when we were but a bow shot apart the
hail came. The two vessels were then broadside on to each other, we a
little ahead, if anything. My father was steering now, fully armed, and
Arngeir was beside him with myself. I had the big shield wherewith one
guards the helmsman if arrows are flying.
The Viking bade us strike sail, and let him come alongside, but my
father made no answer. Still we held on, and the Viking paid off a
little, as though he were not so sure if it were wise to fall on us, as
we showed no fear of him.
Then my father spoke to Arngeir in a stern voice that I had heard only
when we met this same ship before.
“This will not last long. If there is one chance for us, it is to run
him down and it may be done. Our ship will stand the blow, for these
longships are but eggshells beside her. Pass the word for the men to
shoot the steersman when I give the word. Then they must run forward,
lest the Vikings climb over the bows as we strike her.”
Arngeir’s eyes flashed at that, and at once he went to the men, and
there was a click and rattle as the arrows went to string, and they
gathered themselves together in readiness to leap up when the word
came. There seemed every chance that we should be upon the longship
before they knew what we were about, for we had the weather gauge.
Now the Viking hailed again, and again bore up for us a little, whereat
my father smiled grimly, for it helped his plan. And this time, as
there was no answer, his men sent an arrow or two on board, which did
no harm.
“It is plain that we are to be taken,” my father said on that, “so we
will wait no longer. Stand by, men, and one lucky shot will do all.
Shoot!”
The helm went up as he spoke, and the men leaped to their feet, raining
arrows round the two men who were at the helm, and down on the Viking
we swept with a great cheer.
But in a moment there were four men on her after deck, and whether the
first helmsman was shot I cannot say; but I think not, for quickly as
we had borne down on her she was ready, rushing away from us, instead
of luffing helplessly, as we had expected. It would almost have seemed
that our move had been looked for.
Ten more minutes passed while we exchanged arrow flights, and then the
longship had so gained on us that she struck sail and waited for us
with her long oars run out and ready.
“That is all we can do,” said my father, with a sort of groan. “Put up
your weapons, men, for it is no good fighting now.”
They did so, growling; and as we neared the longship, her oars took the
water, and she flew alongside of us, and a grappling hook flung deftly
from her bows caught our after gunwale, and at once she dropped astern,
and swung to its chain as to a tow line. We were not so much as bidden
to strike sail now, and the Vikings began to crowd forward in order to
board us by the stern, as the grappling chain was hove short by their
windlass.
“Hold on,” my father cried to them “we give up. Where is your chief?”
Now the men were making way for him when a strange thing happened. Out
of the after cabin ran Havelok when he heard that word, crying that it
was not the part of good warriors to give up while they could wield
sword—words that surely he had learned from Gunnar, his father. And
after him came his mother, silent, and terrified lest he should be
harmed.
Havelok ran up the steps to my father, and the queen followed. I have
said that there was a little sea running, and this made the ships jerk
and strain at the chain that held them together fiercely, now that it
was so short. And even as the queen came to the top step, where there
was no rail, for the steps were not amidships, but alongside the
gunwale, one of these jerks came; and in a moment she was in the sea,
and in a moment also Arngeir was after her, for he was a fine swimmer.
The Vikings cried out as they saw this, but the poor queen said no
word, nor did she ever rise again after the first time. It is likely
that she was drawn under the longship at once.
So for a little while there was no talk of terms or fighting, but all
held their breath as they watched to see if the queen floated alongside
anywhere; but there was only Arngeir, who swam under the lee of the
Viking, and called to her men for guidance. They threw him a rope’s end
as he came to the stern, and he clung to it for a little while, hoping
to see the flash of a white hood that the queen wore, over the white
wave crests: but at last he gave up, and the Vikings hauled him on
board, praising him for his swimming, as he had on his mail.
Then the chief turned to my father, and spoke to him across the few
fathoms of water that were between the ships.
“We meet again, Grim, as time comes round; and now I have a mind to let
you go, though I have that old grudge against you, for I think that
your wife is loss enough.”
“Not my wife, Arnvid, but a passenger—one whom I would not have lost
for all that you can take from me.”
“Well, I am glad it is no worse. But it seems that you are in ballast.
How comes it that you have no cargo for me, for you owe me one?”
Then my father told him shortly that he had fled from Hodulf; and all
those doings were news to the Viking, so that they talked in friendly
wise, while the men listened, and the ships crept on together down the
wind.
But when all was told, save of the matter of Havelok, and who the lost
lady was, the Viking laughed shortly, and said, “Pleasant gossip, Grim,
but not business. What will you give us to go away in peace? I do not
forget that you all but ran us down just now, and that one or two of us
have arrows sticking in us which came from your ship. But that first
was a good bit of seamanship, and there is not much harm from the
last.”
“Well,” said my father, “it seems to me that you owe me a ship, for it
is certain that I once had that one, and gave her back to you.”
The Viking laughed.
“True enough, and therefore I give you back your ship now, and we are
quits. But I am coming on board to see what property I can lift.”
My father shrugged his shoulders, and turned away, and at once the
Vikings hauled on the chain until their dragon head was against our
quarter, when the chief and some twenty of his men came on board. The
way in which they took off the hatches without staying to question
where they should begin told a tale of many a like plundering.
Then, I do not know how it was rightly, for I was aft with my father,
there began a quarrel between the Vikings and our men; and though both
Grim and the chief tried to stop it, five of our few were slain
outright, and three more badly hurt before it was ended. The rest of
our crew took refuge on the fore deck, and there bided after that. The
whole fray was over in a few minutes, and it seemed that the Vikings
half expected somewhat of the sort.
Then they took all the linen and woollen goods, and our spare sails,
and all the arms and armour from the men and from the chests to their
own ship. Only they left my father and Arngeir their war gear, saying
that it were a shame to disarm two brave men.
Then the chief said, “Little cargo have you, friend Grim, and therefore
I am the more sure that you have store of money with you. Even flight
from Hodulf would not prevent you from taking that wherewith to trade.
So I must have it; and it rests with you whether we tear your ship to
splinters in hunting for your hiding place or not.”
“I suppose there is no help for it, but I will say that the most of
what I have is not mine,” said my father.
“Why, what matter? When one gives gold into the hands of a seafarer,
one has to reckon with such chances as this. You must needs hand it
over.”
So, as there was naught else to do, Grim brought out the jarl’s heavy
bag, and gave it to the chief, who whistled to himself as he hefted it.
“Grim,” he said, “for half this I would have let you go without sending
a man on board. What is this foolishness? You must have known that.”
“The gold is not mine,” my father answered; “it was my hope that you
would have been content with the cargo.”
“Well, I have met with an honest man for once,” the Viking said; and he
called his men, and they cast off and left us.
But we were in no happy plight when he had gone away to the eastward on
his old course. Half our men were gone, for the wounded were of no use,
and the loss of the queen weighed heavily on us. And before long it
began to blow hard from the north, and we had to shorten sail before
there was real need, lest it should be too much for us few presently,
as it certainly would have been by the time that darkness fell, for the
gale strengthened.
Then, added to all this, there was trouble in the cabin under the after
deck, for since his mother was lost, Havelok had spoken no word. I had
brought him down to my mother from the deck, and had left him with her,
hoping that he did not know what had happened; but now he was in a high
fever, and sorely ill. Perhaps he would have been so in any case, after
the long days of Hodulf’s cruelty, but he had borne them well. A child
is apt, however, to give up, as it were, suddenly.
So, burdened with trouble, we drove before the gale, and the only
pleasant thing was to see how the good ship behaved in it, while at
least we were on our course all the time. Therefore, one could not say
that there was any danger; and but for these other things, none would
have thought much of wind or sea, which were no worse than we had
weathered many a time before. We had sea room, and no lee shore to
fear, and the ship was stanch, and no sailor can ask for more than
that.