JARL SIGURD OF DENMARK.
Now one would like to tell of quiet days at Grimsby; but they were not
to be. Three days after Havelok’s homecoming we were on the “swan’s
path,” and heading for Denmark, with the soft south wind of high summer
speeding us on the way. And I will tell how that came about, for else
it may seem strange that Havelok did not see to the rights of his wife
first of all.
That was his first thought, in truth, and we brothers planned many ways
of getting to work for her, for it was certain that Alsi would be on
his guard. And on the next day came a man from Lincoln to seek Berthun,
with news. That good friend had done what none of us had been able to
manage, for he had told the merchant, his friend, to bide in the hall
and hear what went on, and then to let him know all else that seemed
needful that we should hear. Now he had learned all from the words of
Griffin and Alsi, who took no care in their speech, thinking that none
in the hall knew the Welsh tongue that they used.
It being the business of a merchant to know that of every place where
he trades, and he travelling widely, there was no difficulty to him,
and mightily he enjoyed the sport. Then he sent off straightway to us;
and now it was plain that we were in danger—not at once, maybe, but ere
long. Griffin would hear sooner or later that his quarry was in Grimsby
after all. So we went to our good old friend, Witlaf of
Stallingborough, and told him all.
“Why,” he said, “I will have no Welsh outsiders harrying my friends.
Light up your beacon if he comes, and shut your gates in his face, and
I and the housecarls will take him in the rear, and he will not wait
here long. I have not had a fight for these twenty years or so, and it
does me good to think of one.”
So we thought that there was little fear of the Welshman.
When I came back from this errand, however, I chose to pass the mound
where my father slept, and on it, hand in hand, sat Havelok and
Goldberga—for it was a quiet place, and none came near it often. It was
good to see them thus in that place, and happy they seemed together.
Goldberga called me when I came near, and I sat down beside them as she
bade me.
“Here we have been talking of what we shall do now, for it seems that
to both of us are many things to hand,” she said. “Good it would be if
we could set them aside; but we were born to them, and we cannot let
them be. And, most of all, here in this place we may not forget the
duty that Grim would remind us of. Havelok must go to Denmark and win
back his kingdom from Hodulf first of all.”
“We have thought that East Anglia was to be won first from Alsi,” I
said.
“So says Havelok; but I do not think so. For, indeed, I am but the
wife, and the things of the husband come first of all. Now, this is
what I would say. Sail to Denmark before Hodulf knows what is coming,
and there will be less trouble.”
“I am slow at seeing things,” said Havelok; “but the same might be said
of your kingdom.”
“Alsi is ready, and Hodulf is not,” she answered, laughing; “any one
can see that.
“Is it not so, brother?”
So it was; and I thought that she was right.
“Let us ask the brothers,” I said, “for here are many things to be
thought of; and, first of all, where to get men.”
That was the greatest trouble to our minds, but none at all to hers.
“Get them in Denmark,” she said, when we were all together in the great
room of the house that evening. “Let us go as merchant folk, and find
Sigurd, or his son if he is dead. If I am not much mistaken, all the
land will rise for the son of Gunnar so soon as it is known that he has
come again.”
“Sigurd is yet alive,” Arngeir said; “and more than that, he is
waiting. For he promised Grim that he would be ready, and I heard the
promise. I think that this plan is good, and can well be managed. Here
is the ship that Griffin was to have taken today, and he is not here.
Gold enough I have, for Grim hoarded against this time.”
Then he showed us the store that, through long years, my father had
brought together to take the place of that of Sigurd’s which had been
lost; and it was no small one. And so we planned at once; and in the
end we three brothers were to go with Havelok and Goldberga, leaving
Mord to get to Ragnar and tell him that Goldberga was following the
fortunes of her husband, and would return to see to her own if all went
well. Berthun would go with him, and Arngeir would bide at home, for we
needed one to whom messages might come; and while none would know us
now in Denmark, either Arngeir or Mord might be seen, and men would
tell Hodulf that the men of Grim had come home, and so perhaps spoil
all. Word might go to Denmark from Griffin even yet.
We had little thought of any sorry ending to our plans, for the dreams
that had come so true so far cheered us. And so, with the evening tide
of the next day, we sailed in the same ship that had been hired for
Griffin.
But first Havelok spent a long hour on my father’s mound alone,
thinking of all that he owed to him who rested there. And to him came
Goldberga softly, presently, lest he should be lonely in that place.
And there she spoke to him of her own faith, saying that already he
owed much to it. For he was making his vows to the Asir for success.
“Shall you pray yet again to the Asir, my husband?” she asked.
“Why should I? I have vowed my vows, and there is an end. If they heed
them, all is well; and if not, the Norns hinder.”
“There is One whom the Norns hinder not at all,” she said gently, and
so told him how that her prayers would go up every day.
Fain was she that he also prayed in that wise to her God, that naught
might be apart in their minds.
Then he said, “I have heard this from David and Withelm also, and it is
good. Teach me to vow to your God, sweet wife, and I will do so; and
you shall teach me to pray as you pray.”
So it came to pass that Havelok in the after days was more than ready
to help the Christian teachers when they came to him; for that was how
the vow that he made ran, that he would do so if he was king, and had
the power.
Now there is nothing to tell of our voyage, for one could not wish for
a better passage, if the ship was slow. Indeed, she was so slow that a
smaller vessel that left Tetney haven on the next day reached the same
port that we were bound for on the night that we came to our old home.
And that we learned soon after she had come.
Into Sigurd’s haven we sailed on the morning tide, and strange it
seemed to me to see the well-known place unchanged as we neared it. My
father’s house was there, and Arngeir’s, and the great hall of the jarl
towered over all, as I remembered it. Men were building a ship in the
long shed where ours had been built, and where the queen had hidden;
and the fishing boats lay on the hard as on the day when Havelok had
come to us. The little grove was yet behind our house, and it seemed
strange when I remembered that the old stones of its altar were far
beyond the seas. I wondered if Thor yet stood under his great ash tree;
and then I saw one change, for that tree was gone, and in its place
stood a watchtower, stone built, and broad and high, for haven beacon.
On the high fore deck stood Havelok, and his arm was round Goldberga as
we ran in, but they were silent. The land held overmuch of coming
wonder for them to put into words, as I think.
Presently the boats came off to us in the old way, and here and there I
seemed to know the faces of the men, but I was not sure. It was but the
remembrance of the old Danish cast of face, maybe. I could put no names
to any of them. And as we were warped alongside the wharf, there rode
down to see who we were Sigurd the jarl himself, seeming unchanged,
although twelve years had gone over him. He was younger than my father,
I think, and was at that age when a man changes too slowly for a boy to
notice aught but that the one he left as a man he thought old is so
yet. He was just the noble-looking warrior that I had always wondered
at and admired.
We had arranged in this way: Havelok was to be the merchant, and we his
partners in the venture, trading with the goods in the ship as our own.
That the owner, who was also ship master, had agreed to willingly
enough, as we promised to make good any loss that might be from our
want of skill in bargaining. One may say that we bought the cargo,
which was not a great one, on our own risk, therefore, hiring the
vessel to wait our needs, in case we found it better to fly or to land
elsewhere presently. Then Havelok was to ask the jarl’s leave to trade
in the land, and so find a chance to speak with him in private. After
that the goods might be an excuse for going far and wide through the
villages to let men know who had come, without rousing Hodulf’s fears.
And as we thought of all this on the voyage, Goldberga remembered that
it was likely that Sigurd would know again the ring that had been the
queen’s, and she said that it had better be shown him at once, that he
might begin to suspect who his guest was. For we knew that he was true
to the son of Gunnar, if none else might still be so.
This seemed good to us all; and, indeed, everything seemed to be well
planned, though we knew that there are always some happenings that have
been overlooked. We thought we had provided against these by keeping
the ship as our own to wait for us, however, and it will be seen how it
all worked out in the end.
Now Havelok went ashore as soon as the ship was moored; and the moment
that he touched land he made a sign on his breast, and I think that it
was not that of the hammer of Thor, for Goldberga watched him with
bright eyes, and she seemed content as she did so. He went at once to
where the jarl sat on his horse waiting him, and greetings passed. I
was so used to seeing men stare at my brother that I thought little of
the long look that Sigurd gave him; but presently it seemed that he was
mightily taken with this newcomer, for he came on board the ship, that
he might speak more with him and us.
“Presently,” he said, “you must come and dine with me at my hall; for
the lady whom I saw as you came in will be weary, and a meal on shore
after a long voyage is ever pleasant. Now what is your errand here?”
“Trading, jarl,” answered Havelok.
“I thought you somewhat over warlike-looking for a merchant,” said
Sigurd; “what is your merchandise?”
“Lincoln cloth, and bar iron, and such like; and with it all one thing
that is worth showing to you, jarl, for I will sell it to none but
yourself.”
Now we went aft slowly, and presently Havelok and the jarl were alone
by the steering oar, by design on our part.
“This seems to be somewhat special,” said Sigurd. “What is it?”
Havelok took the ring from his pouch, and set it in the jarl’s hand
without a word; and long Sigurd looked at it. I saw the red on his
cheek deepen as he did so, but he said never a word for a long time.
And next he looked at Havelok, and the eyes of these two met.
“This is beyond price,” said the jarl slowly. “Not my whole town would
buy this. It is such as a queen might wear and be proud of.”
“Should I show it to Hodulf the king, therefore?” asked Havelok, with
his eyes on those of the jarl.
“Let no man see it until I know if I can buy it,” answered Sigurd.
“Trust it to my keeping, if you will, for I would have it valued
maybe.”
“It is my wife’s, and you must ask her that.”
Then Havelok called Goldberga from her cabin under the after deck, and
the jarl greeted her in most courtly wise.
“I will trust it with you, Jarl Sigurd,” she said, when he asked her if
he might keep the ring for a time. “Yet it is a great trust, as you
know, and it will be well to show the ring to none but men who are
true.”
“It is to true men that I would show it,” he answered, with that look
that had passed between him and Havelok already; and I was sure that he
knew now pretty certainly who we were. Yet he could not say more at
this time, for the many men who waited for Havelok must be told
somewhat of his coming first.
Now men were gathering on the wharf to see the newcomers, and so the
jarl spoke openly for all to hear.
“Come up to my hall, all of you, and take a meal ashore with me; for
good is the first food on dry land after days at sea and the fare of
the ship.”
So he went across the gangway, and to his horse, and rode away quickly,
calling back to us, “Hasten, for we wait for you. And I will find you
lodgings in the town for the time that you bide with us.”
Now at first that seemed somewhat hazardous, for we had meant to stay
in the ship, lest we should have to fly for any reason suddenly. But it
seemed that we had no choice but to do as he bade us, and we could not
doubt him in any way. We should go armed, of course, as in a strange
place; and, after all, unless Hodulf heard of us, and wanted to see us,
he was not to be feared as yet. So I fell to wondering where our
lodgings would he, and if the old families still dwelt in the houses
that I had known, and then who had ours. Many such thoughts will crowd
into the mind of one who sees his old land again after many years, and
finds naught changed, to the eye at least.
Men have told me that, as we came into the hall presently, they thought
us the most goodly company that had ever crossed its threshold; and
that is likely, for at our head were Havelok and Goldberga. Raven was a
mighty warrior to look on as he came next, grave and silent, with
far-seeing grey eyes that were full of watching, as it were, from his
long seafaring, and yet had the seaman’s ready smile in them. And
Withelm was the pattern of a well-made youth who has his strength yet
to gather, and already knows how to make the best use of that he has.
There were none but thought that he was the most handsome of the three
sons of Grim. And last came I, and I am big enough, at least, to stand
at Havelok’s back; and for the rest, one remembers what Eglaf said of
me. But I do not think that any noticed us with those twain to look at,
unless they scanned our arms, which were more after the English sort
than the Danish, so far as mail and helms are concerned, and therefore
might seem strange.
The old hall was not changed at all; and handsome it seemed after
Alsi’s, though it was not so large. There were more and better weapons
on the walls, and carved work was everywhere, so that in the swirl and
heat-flicker of the torches the beams, and door posts, and bench ends,
and the pillars of the high seat seemed alive with knotted dragons that
began, and ended, and writhed everywhere, wondrous to look on. Our
English have not the long winter nights, and cruel frosts, and deep
snow that make time for such work as this for the men of the household.
There fell a silence as we came in, and then Sigurd greeted us; and we
were set on the high seat, and feasted royally. On right and left of
our host sat Havelok and Goldberga, and the jarl’s wife next to
Havelok, and Biorn the Brown, the sheriff, next to our princess. This
was a newcomer here since my days, but well we liked him.
There is nothing to tell of what happened at this feast, for Sigurd
asked no questions of us but the most common ones of sea, and wind, and
voyage, and never a word that would have been hard for Havelok to
answer in this company, where men of Hodulf’s might well be present.
Withelm noticed this, and said that no doubt it was done purposely, and
he thought much of it.
When we had ended with song and tale, and it was near time for rest,
Sigurd bade Biorn, the sheriff, take us to his house for the night,
telling him that he must answer for our safety, and specially that of
the fair lady who had come from so far. And then he gave us a good
guard of his housecarls to take us down the street, as if he feared
some danger.
“Why, jarl,” said Biorn, “our guests will have a bad night if they
think that in our quiet place they need twenty men to see them to bed
thus!”
“Nay, but the town is strange to the lady,” answered Sigurd; “and who
knows what she may fear in a foreign land!”
So Biorn laughed, and was content; and we bade farewell to the jarl,
and went out. And then I found that it was to my father’s house we were
to go, for it had been given to Biorn.
Now, I was next to Goldberga as we came to the door, and there was a
step into the house which we always had to warn strangers of when it
was dark; and so, in the old way, without thinking for a moment, I said
to her, “One step into the house, sister.”
“Ho, Master Radbard, if that is you, you have sharp eyes in the dark,”
said Biorn at once; “I was just about to say that myself.”
“I have some feeling in my toes,” I answered; and that turned the
matter, for they laughed.
And then, when we were inside, and the courtmen had gone clattering
down the street homewards, Biorn took the great door bar from its old
place and ran it into the sockets in the doorposts, as I had done so
many times; and the runes that my father had cut on it when he made the
house were still plain to be seen on it, with the notches I had made
with the first knife that I ever had. More I will not say, but
everywhere that my eyes fell were things that I knew, even to fishing
gear, for it seemed that Biorn was somewhat of a fisher, like Grim
himself.
Then they put me and my brothers into our old loft, and Havelok and
Goldberga had the room that had been my father’s. As for Biorn, he
would be in the great room, before the fire. There was only this one
door to the house, and therefore he would guard that. His thralls were
in the sheds, as ours used to be, so that we and he were alone in the
house.
Now, as soon as we three had gone into our old place of rest, Raven
went at once, as in the old days, to the little square window that was
in the high-pitched gable, and looked out over the town and sea. We
used to laugh at him for this, for he was never happy until he had
seen, as we said, if all was yet there.
“There are yet lights in the jarl’s hall,” he said, “and there are one
or two moving about down in the haven. I think that there is a vessel
coming in.”
“Come and lie down, brother,” I said. “We are not in Grimsby, and you
cannot go and take toll from her if there is.”
He laughed, and came to his bed; but we talked of old days and of many
things more for a long while before we slept. And most of all, we
thought that Sigurd the jarl knew Havelok by the token of the ring and
by that likeness to Gunnar which Mord had seen, and that our errand was
almost told.
So we slept without thought of any danger; but the first hour of the
night in that house was not so quiet to Goldberga, for presently she
woke Havelok, and she was trembling.
“Husband,” she said, “it is in my mind that we are in danger in this
place; for I cannot sleep by reason of a dream that will come to me so
soon as my eyes are closed.”
“You are overtired with the voyage,” Havelok told her gently; and then
he asked her what the dream was.
“It seems that I see you attacked by a boar and many foxes, and hard
pressed, and then that a bear and good hounds help you. Yet we have to
flee to a great tree, and there is safety. Then come two lions, and
they obey you.”
“I think that is a dream that comes of waves, and the foam that has
followed us, and the shrill wind in the rigging, and the humming of the
sail, sweet wife; and the tree is the tall mast maybe, and the lions
are the surges that you saw along this shore, where is no danger.”
So she was content; and then all in the house slept.