A STRANGEST WEDDING.
Long spoke Withelm and the priest David together, until it was time for
them to seek the palace; and when they came there, they spoke to Mord
also. Then David thought it was well to say naught to Havelok until
more was learned from Goldberga herself, for he would soon see how
things stood with her. Then he would see Withelm again, and they would
plan together for the best. So Withelm waited for the return of the
priest, whom Mord took to his mistress. Alsi and his men were supping
in the hall, but Goldberga was waiting in her own chamber.
Now the princess thought that, after her message to the king, she would
hear no more of the kitchen knave, and so was happier. But all the
while she pondered over her dream the thought of Havelok must needs
come into it, and that was troublesome. Nevertheless, it was not to be
helped, seeing that there was no doubt at all that he and the man of
the vision were like to each other as ever were twins. Wherefore if the
thought of one must be pleasant so at last must be that of the other.
And then came the nurse with tales of what Berthun thought of this man
of his—how that he was surely a wandering prince, with a vow of service
on him, like Gareth of the Round Table in the days of Arthur.
So presently it seemed to the princess that the churl was gone, as it
were, and in his place was a wandering atheling, at least, who was not
a terror at all. Then at length the slow time wore away until Mord came
with David the priest.
No priestly garb had the old man on, for that had made his danger
certain; but though he was clad in a thrall’s rough dress, he was not
to be mistaken for aught but a most reverend man.
“Peace be with you, my daughter,” he said; “it is good to look on the
child of Orwenna, the queen whom we loved.”
Then the chamberlain left those two alone, and at once Goldberga told
the priest why she had asked him to run the risk of coming to her, for
there is no doubt that he was in peril, though not from Alsi himself.
At first she asked him many things about her mother, and learned much
of her goodness to the poor folk, and of their love to her; and
presently, when she grew more sure of the kindness and seeming wisdom
of the priest, she told him all her dream, adding no thoughts of her
own, as she mistrusted them.
Then said David, “There seems naught but good in this, and it is not
hard to unravel. I think that all shall come to pass even as it was
told you.”
“I feared the heathen ways of the place, and thought that it might be
some snare of the old gods,” said Goldberga.
But David told her that they could have no power on her, and asked her
if the king knew of the vision, that being one thing of which he was
not sure; and when he found that he did not, the whole affair seemed
more strange than before.
But now the princess asked him, “Plain were the words that I heard, hut
what meant the light as of a sunbeam that came from the mouth of the
man of the vision?”
“That surely means that in word and in heart and in all else the man
shall be kingly altogether, so that there shall be no mistaking the
same; and it may also mean that you shall know the man at once when you
see him.”
At that Goldberga grew pale and red by turns, so that David, quick to
read the thoughts of those who came to him for help, asked if she had
seen anyone who she thought must be meant, not at all knowing that she
must needs say that this was Curan.
Not at all willingly did she tell him this; but she did so, adding at
last that Alsi had threatened to wed her to this man.
Now it was plain to David that all was pulling the same way, for surely
Alsi wrought, unknowing, for the fulfilling of the dream; and all
seemed to prove that Havelok was the son of the Danish king, and that
he would win back his kingdom. Then he found out that the princess had
no knowledge that the king had spoken to Havelok, but it did not seem
to be needful that he should tell her that he had done so. That would
be told by Alsi himself if he meant, as seemed certain, to carry out
his threat. So he thought awhile, and at last he saw what he might do
without saying anything to bend the choice of the princess in any way.
“It will soon be plain in what way the dream shall be fulfilled,” he
said; “and this is certain, that you shall be wedded to none but the
right man, else had it not been sent. Have no fear, therefore, even as
it was bidden you.”
Then the princess said that the only thing which troubled her was the
fear lest Alsi should yet force her to wed this one who was so like him
she had seen in her dream.
“That,” said the priest, “is doubtless the most strange part of the
whole matter, yet I think that even thus there need be no fear. I will
tell you now that I know this one who is called Curan well, and I, and
all who know him, love him. Truly he is not a Christian, but he is no
hater of the faith, and that is much in these days. Nor is he a churl,
but rather one of the most noble of men. It is certain that, whatever
Alsi might wish, he would not wed you against your will. He has but to
know your thoughts in order to help you in any way. But I must also
tell you this, that he is a Dane, who fled from his land when he was a
child; and it is thought that he is the son of the Danish king, who was
slain at the time when Mord, your servant, fled also. He came to
England in the same ship as did Mord, who can tell you more of him. It
is certain that there is a secret about his birth, and the one who
knows that secret is not far off. If need is, we can learn it, for
there was a set time for its telling, and maybe this is it. Now, if it
is true that he is the son of the Danish king, it does seem as if your
dream might be bidding you to have no fear of what seems doubtful in
the matter, though I cannot tell, and do not like to say so for
certain. His name is not Curan, but Havelok.”
Then Goldberga said, “I have heard of that flight and of the wreck from
Mord often. He was wont to tell me of the child, and of the lady who
was drowned, and he said that he thought him the king’s son.”
After that she was greatly cheered, for the worst of the trouble seemed
to be over and gone. It was in her mind now that Alsi knew who Havelok
was, and that he tried her, for she was not one to think ill of any.
So she let the priest go, with many thanks, saying, “Now I know that
whatever happens is the will of Heaven, and must be for the best. I am
ready for whatever shall befall.”
Now I do not know what had seemed good to Alsi, for he had changed his
mind concerning David’s visit to Goldberga, and had suddenly given
orders that if he came he was to be put in ward at once. So Mord met
the old man as he left the chamber, and told him that he must fly; and
after that Withelm took him away in the dusk, for none hindered his
going, and went to the widow’s with him, hearing all that had been
said; and that which they thought was even as Goldberga had said, that
all must needs be for the best. In a day or two all would he plain, for
Arngeir would have come. So Withelm sent forth the old man to his own
place with a good store of food, going with him for some miles, and
promising him help for coming days until the dearth was ended.
Now into the palace none might come after the feast was set; and all
this time I was on guard, for there were double posts round the place,
by reason of Alsi’s fear of the attackers of the princess, as was said.
So it happened that neither of us saw Havelok until next morning; and
now I have to tell how we saw him, and what happened with the first
sunlight, when men were thinking of breaking their fast.
We of the housecarls took that first meal of the day in the great
hall—so many of us, that is, who were not on duty; and when we had nigh
finished, Alsi would come in and seat himself on the high place, where
Eglaf and half a dozen other thanes sat also at times when there was no
special state to be kept.
I was early this morning, having just taken my spell of watching at the
gate, and being, therefore, free for the rest of the day, and I was
hungry with the sweet air of the July weather and the freshness that
comes with sunrise. So I was not altogether pleased to see that there
was seemingly some new affair of state on hand, while the breakfast was
not yet set out by reason of preparations that were going on where the
king’s chair was wont to stand. There was Berthun, looking puzzled and
by no means pleased, and his men were busy setting out benches on the
high place, of a sort that were not those that were wont to be there,
in three sides of a square, the open side facing the hall. One bench
made each side, and all three were carved from back rail to clawed feet
wondrously. Old they seemed also. Then, too, instead of the sweet
sedges that strewed the high place, men had spread a cloth of bright
hues underfoot there, and the sedges had been swept among the rushes of
the lower places. All this was so strange that I went forward, and when
I had a chance I asked the steward what was on hand.
“If you know not, master housecarl, no more do I. ‘Justice to be done,’
says the king, and so I suppose that you have some notable prisoner in
ward—maybe the leader of those villains who scared our fair princess.”
“But we had taken no man, and I will say that we had wondered that we
had not been sent out to hunt those people, instead of biding to see if
they came to trouble us here.”
“Why, then,” said Berthun, “some thane must be bringing a captive
shortly. But why Alsi orders these benches, it passes me to make out.
They are those that have been used for the weddings of his kin since
the days of Hengist. Last time was when Orwenna, his sister, wedded
Ethelwald of Norfolk. Maybe he thinks that they need airing.”
He laughed and went on directing his men; but knowing what I knew, I
wondered what it all might mean, for there was one wedding that I could
not help thinking of.
Presently the hall began to fill as men came in, and every one had
somewhat to say, and all marvelled at this that was going on. Then
Berthun came and beckoned to me, for I must fetch Eglaf the captain at
once, as the king had need of him, in haste. Then Eglaf hurried to the
hall; and after a word or two with Alsi, the horns were blown outside
the hall door to call every man of the guard to the place. And when
they came, we were all set round the wall as if guarding all that were
in it. But there were none but the folk of the palace to guard, and
they were wondering as were we; and when that was done, and the click
and rattle of arms as we moved to our places was ended, there was a
silence on all—the silence of men who wait for somewhat to happen.
Now Berthun went to the door on the high place, as he was wont when all
was ready for the king’s presence, and the hush deepened, none knowing
what they expected to see.
Forth came Berthun backward, as was the custom, and he turned aside to
let the king pass him. His face was red and angry, as I thought, but
amazed also. I was standing next to Eglaf, and he was at the foot of
the dais, at the end of his line of men, so that I could see all
plainly.
Then came Alsi, leading the princess, and after Goldberga came her
nurse. No other ladies were with her; and now I noticed that there was
not one thane on the high place, which was strange, and the first time
that such a thing had been since I came here. I looked down the hall,
and none were present. Now I looked at Alsi; and on his pale face was a
smile that might have been as of one who will be glad, though he does
not feel so. But the eyes of the princess were bright with tears, and
hardly did she look from the floor. Hers was a face to make one sad to
see at that time, wondrously beautiful as it was.
Alsi led her by the hand, and set her on the bench that was to his
left, and signed to the nurse to sit beside her, which the old lady
did, bridling and looking with scorn at the king as she took her place.
There she sought the hand of the princess, and held it tightly, as in
comforting wise. Very rich garments had the nurse, but Goldberga was
dressed in some plain robe of white that shone when the light caught
it. Mostly I do not see these things, but now I wished that she always
wore that same.
As for Alsi, he had on his finest gear, even as at the great feast of
the Witan—crimson cloak, fur-lined, and dark-green hose, gold-gartered
across, and white and gold tunic. He had a little crown on also, and
that was the only thing kingly about him, to my mind.
Now he cast one look at Goldberga, which made her shrink into herself,
as it were, and turned with a smile to us all.
“Friends,” he said, “this is short notice for a wedding, but all men
know that ‘Happy is the wooing that is not long a-doing,’ so no more
need be said of that. All men know also that when good Ethelwald died
he made me swear to him that I would wed his daughter to the mightiest
and goodliest and fairest man that was in the land. I have ever been
mindful of that oath, and now it seems that the time for keeping it has
come. Whether the man whom my niece will wed is all that the oath
requires, you shall judge; and if he is such a one, I must not stand in
the way. I do not myself know that I have ever seen one who is so fully
set forth in words as is this bridegroom in those of the oath.”
Now I heard one whisper near me, “Whom has Goldberga chosen?”
And that was what Alsi would have liked to hear, for his speech seemed
to say that thus it was, and maybe that he did not altogether like the
choice.
But now Alsi said to Berthun, “Bring in the bridegroom.”
“Whom shall I bring, lord?” the steward asked in blank wonder, and Alsi
whispered his answer.
At that Berthun’s hands flew up, and his mouth opened, and he did not
stir.
“Go, fool,” said Alsi, and I thought that he would have stamped his
foot.
Now I knew who was meant in a moment, and even as the steward took his
first step from off the dais to go down the hail to his own entrance, I
said to Eglaf, “Here is an end to my service with you. My time is up.”
“Why, what is amiss?”
“The bridegroom is my brother—that is all; and I must be free to serve
him as I may.”
“Well, if that is so, you are in luck. But I do not think that either
of Grim’s sons can be the man. Big enough are you, certainly, but
goodly? Nay, but that red head of yours spoils you.”
I daresay that he would have said more about Raven and Withelm, for a
talk was going round; but a hush came suddenly, and then a strange
murmur of stifled wonder, for Havelok came into the hall after Berthun,
and all eyes were turned to him.
Now I saw my brother smile as he came, seeing someone whom he liked
first of all; and then he looked up the hall, and at once his face
became ashy pale, for he saw what was to be done. Yet he went on
firmly, looking neither to right nor left, until he came to the high
place. There he caught my eye, and I made a little sign to him to show
that I knew his trouble.
They came to the step, and Berthun stood aside to let Havelok pass, and
then Alsi held out his hand to raise my brother to the high place. But
Havelok seemed not to see that, stepping up by himself as the king bade
him come. Then the women who were in the hall spoke to one another in a
murmur that seemed of praise; but whiter and more white grew the
princess, so that I feared that she would faint. But she did not; and
presently there seemed to come into her eyes some brave resolve, and
she was herself again, looking from Alsi to Havelok, and again at Alsi.
Now, too, the king looked at him up and down, as one who measures his
man before a fight. And when he met Havelok’s eyes he grew red, and
turned away to the folk below him.
“So, friends,” he cried, “what say you? Am I true to the words of my
oath in allowing this marriage?”
There was not one there who did not know Havelok, whom they called
Curan; and though all thought these doings strange, there was a hum of
assent, for the oath said naught of the station in life of the
bridegroom. Good King Ethelwald had been too trustful.
“That is well,” said Alsi, with a grave face. “All here will bear
witness that this was not done without counsel taken. Now, let the
bridegroom sit in his place here to my right.”
He waved his hand, and Havelok sat down on the bench that faced
Goldberga; and now he looked long at her with a look that seemed to be
questioning. Alsi was going to his seat in the cross bench, where the
parents of the couple are wont to sit at a wedding while the vows are
made, but he seemed to bethink himself. It is my belief that he said
what he did in order to shame both Havelok and Goldberga.
“Why, it is not seemly that the bridegroom should sit alone without one
to be by him. Where are your friends, Curan?”
At that Alsi met with more than he bargained for. At once Berthun came
forward, and forth came I, and without a word we sat one on each side
of him. There were others who would have come also, for I saw even
Eglaf take a step towards the high place, had we not done so.
Alsi’s face became black at that, for here was not the friendless churl
he was scoffing at. But he tried to smile, as if pleased.
“Why, this is well,” he said. “Good it is to see a master helping his
man, and a soldier ready to back a comrade of a sort. Now we have
witnesses. Let us go on with the wedding.”
Now the golden loving cup that was used at the feasts had been filled
and set at a little side table that stood there, and it was to be the
bride cup that should be drunk between the twain when all was settled.
So Alsi took this cup and held it, while he sat in the place of the
father of the bride. Now, I knew nothing of what should he done, but
Berthun did so, and well he took my brother’s part, having undertaken
for him thus.
“It is the custom,” said Alsi, “that the bridegroom should state what
he sets forth of the dowry to the bride.”
Whereat Berthun, without hesitation, spoke hastily to Havelok, and told
him to let him answer, meaning, as I have not the least doubt, to
promise all that he had saved in long years of service. But Havelok
smiled a little, and set his hand to his neck, and I remembered one
thing that he had—a ring which had always hung on a cord under his
jerkin since he came to Grimsby, and which my father had bidden him
keep ever.
“This give I,” he said, setting it on the floor at his feet, “and with
it all that I am, and all that I shall hereafter be, and all that shall
be mine at any time.”
Alsi looked at the ring as it flashed before him, and his face changed.
No such jewel had he in all his treasures, for it was of dwarf work in
gold, set with a deep crimson stone that was like the setting sun for
brightness. I do not know whence these stones came, unless it were from
the East. Eleyn the queen, his mother, was thence, and I know now that
the ring was hers. But I think that when Alsi saw this he half repented
of the match, though he had gone too far now to draw back. So he bowed,
and said that it was well, as he would have said had there been nothing
forthcoming.
Then Berthun, in his turn, asked for the bridegroom that the dowry of
the bride should be stated for all to hear.
“The wealth left my niece by her father,” said Alsi. “The matter of the
kingdom is for the Witan of the East Anglians to settle.”
Then came from out the king’s chamber two men bearing bags of gold, and
that was set before the princess. It was a noble dowry, and honest was
the king in this matter at least.
Now were the vows to be said and the bride cup to be drunk, and that
was the hardest part of all to Havelok.
Slowly he rose as the king held it out to him, and he took it from his
hand and stood before Goldberga; and she, too, rose and faced him, and
for a moment they stood thus, surely the most handsome couple that had
ever been.
Then Havelok said, looking in the clear eyes of the princess, “This
have I sworn, that I will wed no unwilling bride. It is but for you to
say one word, and the cup falls, and all is ended.”
Alsi started at that, and I thought he was going to speak, but he held
his peace. Still as a rock was Havelok while he waited for the answer,
and the folk in the hall were as still as he. They began to see that
all was not right as the king would have it thought.
Once the princess looked at Alsi, and that with pride in her face, and
then she looked long and steadfastly at Havelok, and one by one his
fingers loosened themselves on the golden stem of the cup, that she
might know him ready for her word.
Then she put forth her hand and closed it round his strong fingers,
that he must hold it fast by her doing, and that was all that was
needed. It was more than words could have told. And she smiled as she
did it.
And at that a light came on Havelok’s face, and he smiled gravely back
at her, and he said in a low voice that shook a little, “May the gods
so treat me as I treat you, my princess. Can it be that you will trust
me thus?”
She answered in no words, but I saw her hand tighten over his, and her
eyes never left his face.
Then Havelok raised his other hand, and took that of Goldberga, which
was on the cup, and faced to the people.
“Thus do I pledge her who shall be henceforward my wife through good
and ill; and may Odin, Freya, and Niord be witnesses of my oath of
faith to her in all that the word may mean.”
So he drank, and I stole a glance at the king. Never saw I a man so
amazed, for to him the Danish names of the Asir had come as some sort
of a shock, seeing that he had deemed this man, with the name of Curan,
a Briton. And he looked at Berthun with a look that seemed to say more
than was likely to be pleasant by-and-by. But the steward paid no heed
to him.
Now Havelok had made his vow, and he gave the cup to the princess; and
she, too, turned a little toward the people, but still she looked on
Havelok.
“Faith shall answer to faith,” she said in a clear voice. “Here do I
take this man for my husband, in the sight of God, and with you all as
witnesses, and I pray that the blessing of Him may be on us both.”
So she drank also, and Havelok stopped and raised the wondrous ring
from where it had been unheeded on the floor, and took the band of
Goldberga, and set it on her finger, and kissed the hand ere he let it
go.
But Goldberga lifted her face toward him, and he bent and kissed her
forehead, and so they were wedded.
I have heard men scoff at the thought of love at first sight, but never
can any one of us do so who saw this wedding.