CHAPTER XXIV.

PEACE, AND FAREWELL.

Now there was feasting enough, and somewhere they found at a thane’s

house a great tent, and they set that up, so that Havelok and Goldberga

might have their own court round them, as it were. Gladly did Berthun

rid himself of war gear and take to his old trade again. I suppose that

the little Tetford valley had never heard the like sounds of rejoicing

before.

Near midnight a man came to me and said that a message had come to me

from the other side, and I rose from the board and went out, to find

Eglaf waiting for me in the moonlight. He was armed, and his face was

wan and tired.

“Come apart, friend,” he said; “I have a message from the king.”

“To me?”

“No, to Havelok. But you must hear it first, and then tell him as you

will.”

We walked away from the tent and across the hillside for some way, and

then he said without more words, “This is the message that Alsi sends

to Havelok, whose name was Curan. ‘Forgive the things that are past,

for many there are that need forgiving. I have no heir, and it is for

myself that I have schemed amiss. In Lincoln town lies a great

treasure, of which Eglaf and I alone know. Give it, I pray you, to your

Danes, that they may harm the land not at all, and so shall I ward off

some of the evil that might come through me even yet. I think that,

after me, you shall be king.’”

“That is wise of Alsi; but is there no word for Goldberga?”

“Ay, but not by my mouth. I fetched David the priest two hours ago, and

he bears those messages.”

“Is there yet more to say?” I asked, for it seemed to me that there

was.

“There is,” he answered. “Alsi is dead.”

So there was an end of all his schemings, and I will say no more of

them. It was Eglaf’s thought that it was not so much his hurts that had

killed the king, but a broken heart because of this failure. For the

second time now I knew that it is true that “old sin makes new shame.”

Now how we told Havelok this, and how Goldberga was somewhat comforted

by the words that David the priest brought her from her uncle, there is

no need to say. But when the news was known in all the host of Lindsey,

there was a great gathering of all in the wide meadow, and we sat in

the camp and wondered what end should be to the talk. Ragnar had come;

but his host was now no great one, for we had sent word to him of the

peace, and there was a great welcome for him and his men.

The Lindsey thanes did not talk long, and presently some half dozen of

the best of them came to us, and said that with one accord the

gathering would ask that Havelok and Goldberga should reign over them.

“We will answer for all in the land,” they said. “If there are other

thanes who should have had a word in the matter, they are not here

because, knowing more than we, they would not fight for Alsi in this

quarrel. If there is any other man to be thought of, he cannot go

against the word of the host.”

“I have my kingdom in Denmark,” said Havelok, “and my wife has hers in

Anglia. How should we take this? See, here is Ragnar of Norwich; he is

worthy to be king, if any. Here, too, is the Earl of Chester, who led

you. It will be well to set these two names before the host.”

“The host will have none but Havelok and Goldberga,” they said.

So the long-ago visions came to pass, and in a few days more we were

feasting in the old hall at Lincoln. But before we left the valley of

the battle we laid in mound in all honour those who had fallen. Seven

great mounds we made, at which men wonder and will wonder while they

stand at Tetford. For well fought the Danes of Goldberga, and well

fought the Lindseymen on that day. Yet I think that those who would

fain have lived to see the victory had their share in it, as they stood

in their grim and silent ranks behind us.

Then was a new crowning of those two, and messages to the overlord of

Lindsey, sent by the thanes, to say that all was settled on the old

lines of peaceful tribute to be paid; and then, when word and presents

came back from him, Goldberga rose up on the high place where she had

been so strangely wedded, and looked down at the joyous faces of her

nobles at the long tables.

“When I was crowned in Denmark,” she said, “there was a promise made

me, that when this day came to me in Norfolk I might ask one boon of

all who upheld me. I do not know if I may ask it here and now, for the

promise was made by my husband’s people. Yet it is a matter that is

dear to my heart that I shall seek from you all, if I may.”

Then all the hall rang with voices that bade her ask what she would;

and she bowed and flushed red, and hesitated a little. Then she took

heart and spoke.

“It is but this,” she said. “Let the poor Christian folk bide in peace;

and if teachers come from the south or from the north presently who

will speak of that faith, bear with them, I pray you, for they work no

harm indeed.”

Almost was she weeping as she said this, and her white hands were

clasped tightly before her. But she looked bravely at the thanes, and

waited for the answer, though I think that she feared what it would be.

But an old thane rose up in his place, smiling, and he answered, “If

you had commanded us this, my queen, it would have been done. The

Christian folk, if there are any, shall have no hurt. I think that we

had forgotten the old days of trouble with them. Yet I hear that in

Kent the new faith, as it seems to us, is being taught, and that the

king looks on it with favour. It may be that here it will come also.

For your sake I will listen if a teacher comes to me.”

The thanes thought little of this boon, and they all answered that it

was freely granted. But they said that it was no boon to give, and bade

her ask somewhat that was better.

“Why then,” she said, “if I must ask more, think no more of me as queen

save as that I am the wife of the king. Havelok is your ruler in good

sooth.”

That pleased them all well, and they laughed and wished that all had

wives who had no mind to rule.

“Here is word that is going home to my wife,” said one to his

neighbour. “If the queen sets the fashion of obedience, it behoves all

good wives to follow her leading.”

“Maybe I would let some other than yourself tell the lady that,”

answered the other thane with a great laugh, for he knew that household

and its ruler.

So Goldberga had her will, and then began the long years of peace and

happiness to the kingdoms of which all men know. Wherefore I think that

my story is done. What I have told is halting maybe, and rough, but it

is true. And Goldberga, my sister, says that it is good. Which is all

the praise that I need.

So far went Radbard, my friend, and then he would tell no more. So it

is left to me, Wislac the priest, who have written for him, to finish.

He says that everyone knows the rest, and so they do just now. But in

the years to come, when this story is read, men will want to know more.

So it is fit that I should end the story, telling things that I myself

know to be true also.

Sigurd’s host went back in the autumn, rich with the treasure of Alsi

the king; and from that time forward no Danish host ever sought our

shores. Wars enough have been in England here, but they have not harmed

us. No host has been suffered to cross the borders of Lindsey or East

Anglia, save in peace, and in the wars of Penda of Mercia Havelok has

taken no part. Yet he has had to fight to hold his own more than once,

but always with victory, for always the prayers of the few Christians

have been with him.

They set Earl Ragnar to hold the southern kingdom for Havelok and his

wife; and presently, when he was left a widower, he wedded the youngest

daughter of Grim, Havelok’s foster father. Eglaf was captain of the

Lincoln courtmen or housecarls, whichever the right name may be among

those who speak of them. One name is Danish and the other English, but

they mean the same. As for my good friend Radbard, he was high sheriff

before long, and that he is yet. He wedded Ragnar’s sister the year

that Havelok was crowned in Norwich, which was the next year after the

crowning at Lincoln.

Raven went back to the sea, and he will now be in Denmark or else on

the Viking path with Sigurd, for that is what he best loves. Arngeir

bides at Grimsby, high in honour with all, and the port and town grow

greater and more prosperous year by year. Wise was Grim when he chose

to stay in the place where he had chanced to come, if it were not more

than chance that brought him. I suppose that for all time the ships

that are from Grimsby will be free from all dues in the ports that are

Havelok’s in the Danish land. Witlaf, the good old thane, bides in his

place yet, and he rejoices ever that he had a hand in bringing Havelok

up. Nor does our king forget that.

Indeed, I think that he forgets naught but ill done toward him. Never

is a man who has done one little thing for him overlooked, if he is met

by our king after many years, and that is a royal gift indeed.

I would that all married folk were as are this royal couple of ours.

Never are they happy apart, and never has a word gone awry between

them. If one speaks of Havelok, one must needs think of Goldberga; and

if one says a word of the queen, one means the king also. Happy in

their people and in their wondrous fair children are they, and that is

all that can be wished for them.

There was one thing wanting for long years, that I and Withelm ever

longed for for Havelok—a thing for which Goldberga prayed ever. I came

to them from Queen Bertha in Kent, when good old David died; and at

that time Havelok was not a Christian, but surely the most Christian

heathen that ever was. I knew that he must come into the faith at some

time; and I, at least, could not find it in my heart to blame him

altogether for holding to the Asir whom his fathers worshipped. It was

in sheer honesty and singleness of heart that he did so, and I had

never skill enough to show him the right. But Withelm, who has long

been a priest of the faith, and shall surely be our bishop ere long,

had more to do with his conversion than any other.

Yet it did not come until the days when Paulinus came from York and

preached with the fire of the missionary to us all. And then we saw the

mighty warrior go down to the water in the white robe of the

catechumen, and come therefrom with his face shining with a new and

wondrous light.

Then he founded a monastery at Grimsby, that there the men of the

marsh, who had been kind to him in the old days, might find teachers in

all that was good; and there it will surely be after many a long year,

until there is need for its work no more, if such a time ever comes.

So the land grows Christian fast, and good will be its folk if they

follow the way of king and queen and their brothers.

Now have I finished also, and this is farewell. Look you, husbands and

wives, that you may be said to be like Havelok and Goldberga; and see,

brothers, that you mind the words that Grim spoke to his sons, and

which they heeded so well—

“Bare is back without brother behind it.” And that is a true word,

though it was a heathen who spoke it.

THE END.

[1] I have to thank the Mayor of Grimsby for most kindly furnishing me

with an impression of this ancient seal.

[2] Now Nishni-Novgorod, from time immemorial the great meetingplace

of north and south, east and west.

[3] The _garth_ was the fenced and stockaded enclosure round a

northern homestead.

[4] The _seax_ was the heavy, curved dagger carried by men of all

ranks.

[5] The northern sea god and goddess.

[6] Men drowned at sea were thought to go to the halls of Pan and

Aegir. Ran is represented as fishing for heroes in time of storm.

[7] The Norns were the Fates of the northern mythology.

[8] The “Witanagemot,” the representative assembly for the kingdom,

whence our Parliament sprang.

[9] The greatest term of reproach for a coward.

[10] The gold ring kept in the Temple of the Asir, on which all oaths

must be sworn.

[11] The sanctuary of the Asir. Thorsway and Withern in Lincolnshire

both preserve the name in the last and first syllable respectively,

both meaning “Thor’s sanctuary.”

[12] The northern equivalent of the Saxon “Folkmote,” or general

assembly of the people.

Havelok the Dane: A Legend of Old Grimsby and Lincoln · 第 24 / 24 章