KING ALSI OF LINDSEY.
Three weeks after we came the Witan[8] began to gather, and that was a
fine sight as the great nobles of Lindsey, and of the North folk of
East Anglia, came day by day into the town with their followings,
taking up their quarters either in the better houses of the place or
else pitching bright-coloured tents and pavilions on the hillside
meadows beyond the stockades. Many brought their ladies with them, and
all day long was feasting and mirth at one place or another, as friend
met with friend. Never had I seen such a gay sight as the marketplace
was at midday, when the young thanes and their men met there and
matched their followers at all sorts of sports. The English nobles are
far more fond of gay dress and jewels than our Danish folk, though I
must say that when the few Danes of Ethelwald’s household came it would
seem that they had taken kindly to the fashion of their home.
Our housecarls grumbled a bit for a while, for with all the newcomers
dressed span new for the gathering, we had had nothing fresh for it
from the king, as was the custom, and I for one was ashamed of myself,
for under my mail was naught but the fisher’s coat, which is good
enough for hard wear, but not for show. But one day we were fitted out
fresh by the king’s bounty in blue and scarlet jerkins and hose, and we
swaggered after that with the best, as one may suppose.
Berthun had the ordering of that business, and he came and sat with
Eglaf in the gatehouse and talked of it.
“Pity that you do not put your man Curan into decent gear,” the captain
said. “That old sailcloth rig does not do either him or you or the
court credit.”
“That is what I would do,” said the steward, “but he will not take
aught but the food that he calls his hire. He is a strange man
altogether, and I think that he is not what he seems.”
“So you have told me many times, and I think with you. He will be some
crack-brained Welsh princeling who has been crossed in love, and so has
taken some vow on him, as the King Arthur that they prate of taught
them to do. Well, if he is such, it is an easy matter to make him
clothe himself decently. It is only to tell him that the clothes are
from the king, and no man who has been well brought up may refuse such
a gift.”
“But suppose that he thanks the king for the gift. Both he and the king
will be wroth with me.”
“Not Curan, when he has once got the things on; and as for >Alsi, he
will take the thanks to himself, and chuckle to think that the mistake
has gained him credit for a good deed that he never did.”
“Hush, comrade, hush!” said Berthun quickly; “naught but good of the
king!”
“I said naught ill. But if Woden or Frey, or whoever looks after good
deeds, scores the mistake to Alsi as well, it will be the first on the
count of charity that—”
But at this Berthun rose up in stately wise.
“I may not listen to this. To think that here in the guardroom I should
hear such—”
“Sit down, comrade,” said Eglaf, laughing, and pulling the steward into
his seat again. “Well you know that I would be cut to pieces for the
king tomorrow if need were, and so I earn free speech of him I guard.
If I may not say what I think of him to a man who knows as much of him
as I, who may?”
“I have no doubt that the king would clothe Curan if I asked him,” said
Berthun stiffly, but noways loth to take his seat again.
“But it is as much as your place is worth to do it. I know what you
would say.”
Berthun laughed.
“I will do it myself, and if Alsi does get the credit, what matter?”
Wherefore it came to pass that as I was on guard at the gate leading to
the town next day I saw a most noble-looking man coming towards me, and
I looked a second time, for I thought him one of the noblest of all the
thanes who had yet come, and the second look told me that it was
Havelok in this new array. I will say that honest Berthun had done his
part well; and if the king was supposed to be the giver, he had nothing
to complain of. Eglaf had told me of the way in which the dressing of
Havelok was to be done.
“Ho!” said I, “I thought you some newcomer.”
“I hardly know myself,” he answered, “and I am not going to grumble at
the change, seeing that this is holiday time. Berthun came to me last
evening, and called me aside, and said that it was the king’s wont to
dress his folk anew at the time of the Witan, and then wanted to know
if my vow prevented me from wearing aught but fisher’s clothes. And
when I said that if new clothes went as wage for service about the
place I was glad to hear it, he was pleased, as if it had been likely
that I would refuse a good offer. So the tailor went to work on me, and
hence this finery. But you are as fine, and this is more than we
counted on when we left Grimsby. I suppose it is all in honour of the
lady of the North folk, Goldberga.”
“Maybe, for I have heard that she is to come.”
“To be fetched rather, if one is to believe all that one hears. They
say that Alsi has kept her almost as a captive in Dover, having given
her into the charge of some friend of his there, that she may be far
from her own kingdom and people. Now the Norfolk Witan has made him
bring her here. Berthun seems to think there will be trouble.”
“Only because Alsi will not want to let the kingdom go from his hand to
her. But that will not matter. He is bound by the old promise to her
father.”
Now we were talking to one another in broad Danish, there being none
near to hear us. We had always used it among ourselves at Grimsby, for
my father loved his old tongue. But at that moment there rode up to the
gate a splendid horseman, young and handsome, and with great gold
bracelets on his arms, one or two of which caught my eye at once, for
they were of the old Danish patterns, and just such as Jarl Sigurd used
to wear. But if I was quick to notice these tokens of the old land, he
had been yet quicker, for he reined up before I stayed him, as was my
duty if he would pass through this gate to the palace, so that I might
know his authority.
“If I am not mistaken,” he said in our own tongue, “I heard you two
talking in the way I love best. Skoal, therefore, to the first Northman
I have met between here and London town, for it is good to hear a
friendly voice.”
“Skoal to the jarl!” I answered, and I gave the salute of Sigurd’s
courtmen, which came into my mind on the moment with the familiar
greeting of long years ago. And “Skoal,” said Havelok.
“Jarl! How know you that I am that?”
“By the jarl’s bracelet that you wear, surely.”
“So you are a real Dane—not an English-bred one like myself. That is
good. You and I will have many a talk together. Odin, how good it is to
meet a housecarl who speaks as man to man and does not cringe to me!
Who are you?”
“Radbard Grimsson of Grimsby, housecarl just now to this King of
Lindsey.”
“And your comrade?”
I was about to tell this friendly countryman Havelok’s name without
thought, but stopped in time. Of all the things I had been brought up
to dread most for him, that an English Dane should find him out was the
worst, so I said, “He is called Curan, and he is a Lindsey marshman.”
“Who can talk Danish though his name is Welsh. That is strange. Well,
you are right about me. I am Ragnar of Norwich, the earl, as the
English for jarl goes. Now I want to see Alsi the king straightway.”
“That is a matter for the captain,” I said, and I called for him.
Eglaf came out and made a deep reverence when he saw the earl, knowing
at once who he was, and as this was just what the earl had said that he
did not like, he looked quaintly at me across Eglaf’s broad bent back,
so that I had to grin perforce.
All unknowing of which the captain heard the earl’s business, and then
told me to see him to the palace gates, and take his horse to the
stables when he had dismounted and was in the hands of Berthun.
So I went, and Havelok turned away and went on some errand down the
steep street.
This Ragnar was one of whom I had often heard, for he was the governor
of all the North folk for Alsi until the Lady Goldberga should take her
place. He was her cousin, being the son of Ethelwald’s sister, who was
of course a Dane. Danish, and from the old country, was his father
also, being one of the men who had come over to the court of East
Anglia when Ethelwald was made king.
All the way to the door we talked of Denmark, but it was not far. There
Berthun came out and greeted the earl in court fashion, and I thought
that I was done with, because the grooms had run to take the great bay
horse as they heard the trampling. But, as it happened, I was wanted.
Ragnar went in, saying to me that he would find me out again presently;
and I saw him walk across the great hall to the hearth, and stand there
while Berthun went to the king’s presence to tell him of the new
arrival. Then I stood for a minute to look at the horse, for the grooms
had had no orders to take him away; and mindful of Eglaf’s word to me,
I was going to tell them to do so, and to see it done, when Berthun
came hurriedly and called me.
“Master Housecarl,” he said rather breathlessly, “by the king’s order
you are to come within the hall and guard the doorway.”
I shouldered my spear and followed him, and as we were out of hearing
of the grooms I said that the captain had ordered me to take the horse
to the stables.
“I will see to that,” he said. “Now you are to bide at the door while
the king speaks with Earl Ragnar, for there will be none else present.
Let no one pass in without the king’s leave.”
We passed through the great door as he said that, and he closed it
after him. Ragnar was yet standing near the high seat, and turned as he
heard the sound, and smiled when he saw me. Berthun went quickly away
through a side entrance, and the hail was empty save for us two. The
midday meal was over an hour since, and the long tables had been
cleared away, so that the place seemed desolate to me, as I had only
seen it before when I sat with the other men at the cross tables for
meals. It was not so good a hall as was Jarl Sigurd’s in Denmark, for
it was not rich with carving and colour as was his, and the arms on the
wall were few, and the hangings might have been brighter and better in
a king’s place.
“Our king does not seem to keep much state,” Ragnar said, looking round
as I was looking, and we both laughed.
Then the door on the high place opened, and the king came in, soberly
dressed, and with a smile on his face which seemed to me to have been
made on purpose for this greeting, for he mostly looked sour enough.
Nor did it seem that his eyes had any pleasure in them.
“Welcome, kinsman,” he said, seeming hearty enough, however; “I had
looked for you before this. What news from our good town of Norwich?”
He held out his hand to Ragnar, who took it frankly, and his strong
grip twisted the king’s set smile into a grin of pain for a moment.
“All was well there three weeks ago when I left there to go to London.
Now, I have ridden on to say that the Lady Goldberga is not far hence,
so that her coming may be prepared for.”
Now, as the earl said this, the king’s smile went from his face, and
black enough he looked for a moment. The look passed quickly, and the
smile came back, but it seemed hard to keep it up.
“Why, that is well,” he said; “so you fell in with her on the way.”
“I have attended her from London,” answered the earl, looking
steadfastly at Alsi, “and it was as well that I did so, as it
happened.”
“What has been amiss?” asked the king sharply, and trying to look
troubled. He let the smile go now altogether.
“Your henchman, Griffin the Welshman, had no guard with her that was
fitting for our princess,” Ragnar said. “He had but twenty men, and
these not of the best. It is in my mind also that I should have been
told of this journey, for I am surely the right man to have guarded my
queen who is to be.”
At that Alsi’s face went ashy pale, and I did not rightly know why at
the time, but it seemed more in anger than aught else. But he had to
make some answer.
“We sent a messenger to you,” he said hastily; “I cannot tell why he
did not reach you.”
“He must have come too late, and after I had heard of this from others;
so I had already gone to meet the princess. I am glad that I was sent
for, and it may pass. Well, it is lucky that I was in time, for we were
attacked on the road, and but for my men there would have been
trouble.”
Then Alsi broke into wrath, which was real enough.
“This passes all. Where and by whom were you attacked? and why should
any fall on the party?”
“Five miles on the other side of Ancaster town, where the Ermin Street
runs among woods, we were fallen on, but who the men were I cannot say.
Why they should fall on us seems plain enough, seeing that the ransom
of a princess is likely to be a great sum.”
“Was it a sharp fight?”
“It was not,” answered Ragnar, “for it seemed to me that the men looked
only to find your Welsh thane Griffin and his men. When they saw my
Norfolk housecarls, they waited no longer, and we only rode down one or
two of them. But I have somewhat against this Griffin, for he helped me
not at all. Until this day he and his men had ridden fairly with us,
but by the time this attack came they were half a mile behind us.”
“Do you mean to say that you think Griffin in league with
these—outlaws, as one may suppose them?” said Alsi, with wrath and more
else written in twitching mouth and crafty eyes.
“I would not have said that,” Ragnar answered, looking in some surprise
at the king, “it had never come into my head. But I will say that as
the Ermin Street is straight as an arrow, and he was in full sight of
us, he might have spurred his horses to our help, whereas he never
quickened his pace till he saw that the outlaws, or whoever they were,
had gone. I put this as a complaint to you.”
“These men seem to have scared you, at least,” sneered the king.
Ragnar flushed deeply.
“For the princess—yes. It is not fitting that a man who is in charge of
so precious a lady should hold back in danger, even of the least
seeming, as did Griffin. And I told him so.”
Now I thought that Alsi would have been as angry with Griffin as was
the earl, and that he would add that he also would speak his mind to
him, hut instead of that he went off in another way.
“It was a pity that a pleasant journey with a fair companion was thus
broken in upon. But it was doubtless pleasant that the lady should see
that her kinsman was not unwilling to draw sword for her. A pretty
little jest this, got up between Griffin and yourself, and such as a
young man may be forgiven for playing. I shall hear Goldberga complain
of honest Griffin presently, and now I shall know how to answer her.
Ay, I will promise him the like talking to that you gave him, and then
we three will laugh over it all together.”
And with that the king broke into a cackle of laughter, catching hold
of the earl’s arm in his glee. And I never saw any man look so
altogether bewildered as did Ragnar.
“Little jest was there in the matter, lord king, let me tell you,” he
said, trying to draw his arm away.
“Nay, I am not angry with you, kinsman; indeed, I am not. We have been
young and eager that bright eyes should see our valour ourselves ere
now,” and he shook his finger at the earl gaily. “I only wonder that
you induced that fiery Welshman to take a rating in the hearing of the
princess quietly.”
“What I had to say to him I said apart. I will not say that he did take
it quietly.”
“Meaning—that you had a good laugh over it;” and Alsi shook the earl’s
arm as in glee. “There now, you have made a clean breast, and I am not
one to spoil sport. Go and meet Goldberga at the gates, and bring her
to me in state, and you shall be lodged here, if you will. Quite right
of you to tell me this, or Griffin would have been in trouble. But I
must not have the lady scared again, mind you.”
He turned quickly away, then, with a sort of stifled laugh, as if he
wanted to get away to enjoy a good jest, and left Ragnar staring
speechless at him as he crossed the high place and went through the
private door.
Then the earl turned to me, “By Loki, fellow countryman, there is
somewhat wrong here. What does he mean by feigning to think the whole
affair a jest? It won’t be much of a jest if Griffin and I slay one
another tomorrow, as we mean to do, because of what was not done, and
what was said about it.”
“It has seemed to me, jarl,” I said plainly, “that all this is more
like a jest between the king and Griffin.”
“Call it a jest, as that is loyal, at least. But I think that you are
right. If Goldberga had been carried off—Come, we shall be saying too
much in these walls.”
I had only been told to wait while the king and earl spoke together,
and so I opened the door and followed him out. The horse was yet there
waiting for him, and it was plain that the king had not meant him to
stay.
“Bid the grooms lead the horse after us, and we will go to your
captain. Then you shall take me to one of my friends, for you will know
where their houses are.”
But at that moment a man from the palace ran after us, bringing an
order from the king that I was to go back to him. So Ragnar bade me
farewell.
“Come to me tonight at the gatehouse,” he said. “I will speak to the
captain to let you off duty.”
“Say nothing to him, jarl, for it is needless. I am only with him for a
time, and am my own master. I have no turn on watch tonight, and so am
free.”
So I went back, and found the king in the hall again, and he was still
smiling. If he had looked me straight in the face, I suppose that he
might have seen that I was not a man to whom he was used, but he did
not. He seemed not to wish to do so.
“So, good fellow,” he said, “you have heard a pleasant jest of our
young kinsman’s contriving, but I will that you say nothing of it. It
is a pity to take a good guardroom story from you, however, without
some recompense, and therefore—”
With that he put a little bag into my hand, and it was heavy. I said
nothing, but bowed in the English way, and he went on, “You understand;
no word is to be said of what you have heard unless I bid you repeat
it. That I may have to do, lest it is said that Griffin the thane is
‘nidring’[9] by any of his enemies. You know all the story—how the earl
and he planned a sham attack on the princess’s party, that Ragnar might
show his valour, which, of course, he could not do if Griffin was
there. Therefore the thane held back. But maybe you heard all, and
understood it.”
“I heard all, lord king, and I will say naught.”
The king waved his hand in sign that I was dismissed, and I bowed and
went. There were five rings of gold in the bag, worth about the whole
year’s wage of a courtman, and I thought that for keeping a jest to
myself that was good pay indeed. There must be more behind that
business, as it had seemed to me already.
Now, as I crossed the green within the old walls on my way to the gate,
it happened that Havelok came back from the town, and as he came I
heard him whistling softly to himself a strange wild call, as it were,
of a hunting horn, very sweet, and one that I had never heard before.
“Ho, brother!” I said, for there was no one near us. “What is that call
you are whistling?”
He started and looked up at me suddenly, and I saw that his trouble was
on him again.
“In my dream,” he said slowly, “there is a man on a great horse, and he
wears such bracelets as Ragnar of Norwich, and he winds his horn with
that call, and I run to him; and then I myself am on the horse, and I
go to the stables, and after that there is nothing but the call that I
hear. Now it has gone again.”
And his hand went up in the way that made me sad to see.
“It will come back by-and-by. Trouble not about it.”
“I would that we were back in Grimsby,” he said, with a great sigh.
“This is a place of shadows. Ghosts are these of days that I think can
never have been.”
“Well,” said I, wanting to take him out of himself, “this is no ghost,
at all events. I would that one of our brothers would come from home
that I might send it to them in Grimsby. We do not need it.”
So I showed him the gold, and he wondered at it, and laughed, saying
that the housecarls had the best place after all. And so he went on,
and I back to the gate.
Surely he minded at last the days when Gunnar his father had ridden
home to the gate, as the Danish earl had ridden even now, and had
called his son to him with that call. It was all coming back, as one
thing or another brought it to his mind; and I wondered what should be
when he knew that the dream was the truth. For what should Havelok,
foster-son of the fisher, do against a king who for twelve long years
had held his throne? And who in all the old land would believe that he
was indeed the son of the lost king? Better, it seemed to me, that this
had not happened, and that he had been yet the happy, careless,
well-loved son of Grim, with no thought of aught higher than the good
of the folk he knew.
When I got back to the gate, we were marched down the town, that we
might be ready to receive the princess; and as I went through the
market, I saw one of the porters whom I knew, and I beckoned to him, so
that he came alongside me in the ranks, and I asked him if he would go
to Grimsby for me for a silver penny. He would do it gladly; and so I
sent him with word to Arngeir that I needed one of them here to take a
gift that I had for them. I would meet whoever came at the widow’s
house, and I set a time when I would look for them. I thought it was
well that the king’s gold should not be wasted, even for a day’s use,
if I could help it. And I wearied to see one of the brothers, and hear
all that was going on.