GUNNAR MEETS WITH FREY. CONCERNING FREY'S WIFE
Directed by the charcoal-burners, Gunnar made his way to the village
where he was to find Frey in his temple. He reached a fine clearing in
the forest by the late afternoon, and was soon remarked and almost as
soon beset by the inhabitants. Young and old, mostly women, they came
about him like a cloud of gnats. They were a wild, dark-haired and pale
people, well-made but not tall. They were all barefoot, and had fierce,
husky voices; but they were harmless, touching him by the prompting of
curiosity, and delight in a thing so rare. His beard especially moved
them. They must by all means touch that. "It is like Frey's beard. He
is Frey's brother. Bring him to Frey then." So they spoke to each other.
As they came into the village they formed a kind of procession. A young
woman took him by either hand; children danced in front of him singing a
shrill song; the older ones shuffled behind. Dogs capered and barked
about.
Wooden houses built clear of the ground on piles formed the village. It
was full of dogs and children, with one or two old men peering at the
entry from the shelter of trees. He saw the roof of Frey's temple, a
long building with a steep gable. The roof was of heather. They entered
a forecourt and stood before the temple. In the midst was an altar of
stone. There was a gallery to the house sheltered by the eaves of it,
and held up by trunks of trees, smoothed and painted with zigzags in
red, blue and yellow. A curtain hung over the doorway. He saw neither
Frey nor his wife.
The women who had conducted him sat upon their heels and began their
song again. The rest of the village crowded the entry of the court. When
they had sung for some time, the curtains of the doorway moved; Gunnar
thought that he saw the outline of a shoulder, and then was positive
that a hand was at the opening. He could not answer for it, but he
fancied that he was being looked at.
In the meantime the crowd began to draw away from him and to form two
companies, one on each side. He found himself standing alone, and
looking presently round, saw an old bearded man coming towards him with
a long bare knife in his hand. He had glittering eyes and a determined
expression. "This old man is going to shed blood," said Gunnar to
himself. "He chooses for mine, but there are two parties to a bargaining
of that sort."
The old man, being now beside him, produced from the bosom of his gown
a coil of cord. "He will truss me like a fowl," said Gunnar; then he
greeted the man fairly, giving him the time of day.
"You are welcome," said the old man. "It is the hour of the evening
sacrifice."
"Is that so?" Gunnar answered. "I hope you don't take me for your
offering. I have not escaped one kind of death to fall into another."
"Frey must be contented," said the old man.
"He shall be," Gunnar said; "I will give him my cloak."
He opened his pack, and brought out the famous cloak. Shaking out the
folds of it, he put it on and displayed it. The assembly murmured
applause; even the old knifer was moved.
"I have brought this cloak as a gift for Frey," said Gunnar. "Set open
the temple; let him show himself and he shall have it. It will last him
longer than a blood-offering, which is a beastly thing not at all
suitable to a great God. In my country we serve Frey--or we did once
upon a time--but not with men's blood. Oxen and sheep are pleasing to
him; dogs also and hens. But he has other uses for men."
The old man was fingering the cloak. The gold work on the back was a
delight and wonder to him.
"Frey has never had so much gold as this. You are fortunately come. He
shall have the cloak and you too."
"You are mistaken," said Gunnar. "But in order to make sure, I will go
and ask him."
With these words he stepped sharply forward and went up the steps to the
temple before any one could stop him. The curtains opened and a young
woman came out and stood before them, closing them behind her.
She was frightened, but bore herself with great dignity. She could not
check the shortness of her breath, however; nor the scare in her eyes.
She was not tall, and she was very young; she was dressed in blue which
had red embroidery round the neck. Her black hair was plaited, and on
her head she had a double band of gold wire with thin leaves of flat
gold between the wires. Gunnar saw that she was a very pretty girl, and
thought that he could deal with her if he had the chance.
He saluted her civilly and told her what was the matter. "This old man
wishes to cut my throat," he told her, "and I, on the other hand, am
strongly against it. I have come to appeal to you or to Frey against
such a breach of hospitality."
She did not answer him at first; but her eyes were upon his own, and her
lips moved as if she was uncertain what to say.
Presently she said, "Who are you, and whence do you come?"
He said, "My name is Gunnar Helming, and I am from Norway over the
mountains of the West. I am outland-faring as you see, and have no
friends in these parts, unless you are inclined to be one."
She hesitated, but had already made up her mind. "I will send the people
away," she said, "and then we will ask Frey."
Gunnar said, "I am sure that Frey will be guided by you"; but she had
not waited to listen to that, being already down the steps and among the
people.
"There can be no blood-sacrifice of this man," she said to them, but not
in Gunnar's hearing. "This man is the friend of Frey, and it is lucky
for you, I can tell you, that you have not shed his blood. I was just in
time to prevent a dreadful thing which Frey would never have forgiven
you. Now you must go away and leave the two together. They have not met
for a long time, and have a great deal to tell each other." With that
they dispersed, and Frey's wife came back to Gunnar.
"Now," she said, "we must see Frey."
"I am going to offer him this cloak which I am wearing. It is very fine,
as you see."
She touched the gold, and then took one of the sable tails in her hand.
"It is beautiful," she said. "Where did you get it?"
"I had it from a great rascal," Gunner said, "who made a pretext of it
to do me the wrong which brings me here. I will tell you the tale if you
care to listen to it." She had fixed and considering eyes, and still
held the sable-tail. Then she said shortly, "We must go in to Frey. Come
with me."
Frey stood in the middle of the temple. He was a young man of Gunnar's
height and proportions. His beard was red and his hair was brown. He had
staring blue eyes, scarlet nostrils and a fixed smile. His lips also
were scarlet. On his head was a crown of golden oak-leaves and acorns.
In one hand he held a golden cone, like the fruit of a pine-tree, but
much larger. In the other he had a staff which was tipped with a bud. He
had a green tunic upon him and red hose. His legs below the knees were
bound in leather, and he was shod with soft leather dyed red. He himself
was made of wood and painted all over in colours brighter than life, but
his clothes were as real as yours or mine.
"So this is Frey," said Gunnar to himself with great astonishment. "I
would rather have the friendship of his wife."
This wife of his did not take much notice of her husband, it seemed to
him. She drew a settle out a little way from the wall, and sat on it,
inviting Gunnar to a seat beside her. "Now tell me the tale," she said.
So he did.
She said, "The man is not your enemy. Neither is the king. The man
acted basely, but the king could not do otherwise than he did, for
appearances were against you. But I see that you are an unlucky man,
because Frey has no liking for you."
"How can you say that?" said Gunnar.
"I can tell by the look of him. He will not say anything. It is not his
way. But he is no friend to you."
"If I give him my cloak," said Gunnar, "he may think better of me."
She shook her head. "I doubt it. But certainly he must have it. There is
no other way. Besides, when the people see that he has accepted your
cloak they at least will be contented."
Gunnar gave her the cloak, and she cast it over Frey's shoulder, and
touched his beard while she whispered to him what it was. In order to
whisper in his ear she had to stand tiptoe.
"Well," said Gunnar, "and how does he take it?"
"Very ill," she said.
"Then do you send me away?"
She hung her head, and thought about it. "No," she said, "I can't do
that just yet. You shall stay here for three days, and maybe he will
like you better. I will talk to him about it to-night when we are in
bed."
"Do you go to bed with Frey?" he said in astonishment; but her own was
equal to his.
"Where else should I go if I am his wife?" she said. Then she grew red
and turned away her face.
Gunnar said, "I will ask you what your name is, Frey's wife. I can't
call you that for three days."
"Why so?" she asked him, rather fiercely.
"Because it seems to me foolishness."
"I am called Sigrid," she said.
"Then I shall call you Sigrid," said Gunnar.