GAELO AND SHIGNE.
On the very day when Master Eidiol, bound for the small port of St.
Audoin, descended the Seine on board his trading vessel, two other
craft, proceeding from the opposite direction, were ascending the river
with forceful strokes of oars. Both these craft were of unusual
shape--they were narrow, about thirty feet long, and rose only slightly
above the water's line. They resembled sea-serpents. Their prows, shaped
like their poops, enabled them to advance or retreat without the
necessity of turning about, but by merely placing the rudders forward or
aft, according as the maritime maneuver demanded. These craft, supplied
with a single mast and square sail, the latter of which was now clawed
fast to the cross beam, there being only little wind, manned with twelve
oarsmen, a steersman and a captain--the two "_holkers_" as these craft
were called by the Northmans, were so light that the pirates could carry
them on their shoulders for a long distance and set them floating again.
Although the two _holkers_ were of equal build and swiftness they
resembled each other only in the sense that a robust man may be said to
resemble a lissome lass. One of them, painted black, had for its prow
ornament a sea eagle painted red; its beak and talons were of polished
iron. On the top of the mast a weather vane, or, as they called it,
"_eire-wire_," also representing a sea eagle engraved on a metal sheet,
turned at the slightest breeze, the direction of which was indicated by
the fluttering of a light red streamer placed on the starboard side of
the _holker_ and carrying the same sea bird embroidered in black. Just
below the rail, which was pierced with the holes necessary for the
operation of the oars, a row of iron bucklers glistened in the rays of
the setting sun, which also played upon the pirates' polished armor,
that consisted of little iron scales, which, covering them from head to
foot, imparted to the wearers the appearance of gigantic fishes.
Fierce people were these pirates! Sailing over the main from the shores
of Sweden, Norway and Denmark, they arrived only after some days'
journey at the coasts of Gaul. They boasted in their "sagas," or popular
songs, of "never having slept under a board roof, or having emptied
their cups near a sheltered fireplace." Pillaging churches, castles and
abbeys, turning chapels into stables, cutting shirts and breeches for
themselves out of altar-cloths, ravaging everything that they
encountered--in this style, as they expressed themselves, they "sang the
mass of the lances, beginning at dawn with the matins and closing at
dusk with the vespers." To conduct his vessel as a skilful knight
manages his horse, to be able to run over its oars while in motion, and
to be able to hurl three successive javelins at the plate on the top of
the mast, receive them back in his own hands and hurl them up again
without once missing his aim--such were some of the essential
accomplishments for an able pirate.
"Let us then
Defy the weather,"
so ran their sea song,
"For the tempest
Is our servant,
Helps our oars and
Fills our sails,
Wafts us where we
Wish to go.
"Where we land we
Eat the repast
There prepared for
Us by others;
Slay our host and
Fire his dwelling,
And resume the
Azure swan route."
These Northmans had for their divinity Odin, the God of the North, who
promised to the brave, killed in battle, a home in Walhalla, the
brilliant residence of the celestial heroes. Nevertheless, relying more
on their own intrepidity than upon the aid of their God, they never
invoked him. "My brother in arms and myself," thus did Gunkator, a
famous sea-king who frequently ravaged the castles and churches of Gaul,
speak of himself and his fellow pirates; "my brother in arms and myself
never sacrifice to the Gods; we place our faith only upon our oars and
our own strength; we get along very well in that way." Several of the
chiefs of these pirates claimed to have issued from the embraces of
Trolls, sea sprites, and the Ases and Dwalines, gentle fairies, who
delighted in dancing by the light of the moon on the ice of the
northern lakes, or in disporting themselves among the snow-covered
branches of the tall fir-trees.
Well might Gaëlo, who was in command of the black _holker_ with the
sea-eagle ornament at its prow, trust to his own strength; it matched
his bravery, and his bravery matched his skilfulness. Nevertheless, what
surpassed his skilfulness, his bravery, and his strength, was the
masculine beauty of the young pirate chief, as, with one hand resting on
his harpoon, covered from head to foot in his flexible armor of iron
scales, Gaëlo stood in the prow of his vessel. From his belt hung by his
side his long sword and his ivory horn whose notes were well known of
the pirates. His pointed casque, almost devoid of visor, exposed his
features, browned by the sea air, because no less than the heroes of the
Saga, Gaëlo "never slept under a roof, nor emptied his cup near a
sheltered fireplace." It was easy to surmise from the intrepidity of his
eyes, and the curve of his lip that he also had often "from dawn to dusk
sung the mass of the lances," perchance also carved his own shirt from
some altar-cloth, and, who knows, more than once, burnt down an abbey
after having eaten the abbot's supper. But he certainly never killed the
abbot, if the latter was defenceless and offered no resistance. No; the
noble cast of Gaëlo's face bore no trace of ferocity. Though he was of
those who practiced the principle of Trodd the Dane of the country of
Garderig: "A good pirate never seeks for shelter during a tempest, and
never binds his wounds before the end of the fray; he must attack an
enemy single-handed, defend himself against two, never yield to three
and flee without shame before four"--though Gaëlo followed this maxim,
he also practiced this other given by the good chief. Half to his
fellow champions: "Women must not be killed, nor must little children be
tossed in the air to be received for amusement upon the points of your
lances." No; Gaëlo had not a ferocious face. Far from that, particularly
at this moment did his face denote the most tender sentiments. His eyes
snapped with the fire of gentleness as from time to time he turned his
head towards the other _holker_ that was vying with his own in
swiftness.
Indeed, never before did pirate vessel present to a mariner's eyes a
more charming sight! Constructed in the same proportions as Gaëlo's,
only finer and more dashing, the second _holker_ was painted white. The
spare oars and the bucklers ranged in a row like those of the black
_holker_ were of azure blue. A gilded swan ornamented its prow. On the
top of its mast a swan with outspread wings and engraved upon a sheet of
polished copper, responded to the rising evening breeze, which also
raised a streamer of azure blue embroidered with a white swan.
Within-board, swords, pikes and axes, symmetrically ranked, hung within
easy reach of the rowers, who were clad in flexible armor, not of
scales, but of iron mail, with casques with short visors on their heads.
Like Gaëlo, the chief of this second _holker_ was standing near the
craft's prow, with one hand upon a long harpoon which its holder
frequently used in order to turn the vessel's head aside whenever it
grazed the edges of several islets, grown with willows, that lay in the
vessel's course. This Northman chief, slenderer but as tall as Gaëlo,
was a woman, a virgin of twenty years, known as the Beautiful Shigne.
Like the female warriors whom she chieftained, Shigne wore an armor of
steel mail so fine and flexible that it might have been taken for a grey
silk. This species of tunic descended from the maid's neck to just
above her knees, and fitted so closely that it betrayed the robust
contours of her bosom. An embroidered belt gathered the coat of mail
around her waist, from the belt hung, on one side, her ivory horn, on
the other her sword. No less plainly outlined were the Beautiful
Shigne's nether limbs, likewise encased in flexible iron mail. Her shoes
were made of the skin of the sea-lion, and they were tightly laced
around her ankles.
The warrior maid had laid her casque at her feet. Her hair, of a pale
blonde, parted over her wide forehead and cut short at the neck, framed
in with its ringlets a daring white face slightly tinged with the rose.
The cold azure of the northern heaven seemed to be reflected in her
large, clear, blue and limpid eyes. Her aquiline nose, her serious and
haughty mouth, imparted an austere expression to her masculine beauty.
Before now the sagas had sung the bravery of the Beautiful Shigne, one
of the bravest of the "Buckler Maidens" or "_Skoldmoë_" as the Northmans
called them. The number of these female warriors was considerable in
those countries of the North. They took part in the expeditions of the
pirates, and not infrequently excelled them in daring. There was nothing
more savage or more indomitable than these haughty beings. One instance,
taken from a thousand others, will convey an idea of their character.
Thoborge, the daughter of the pirate Eric, a young "Buckler Maiden,"
beautiful and chaste, always armed, always ready for the combat, had
refused all applicants for her hand. She chased them away with contempt,
wounded and even killed several of them when they presumed to talk to
her of love. Sigurd, a pirate of renown, attacked Thoborge in her home
on the isle of Garderig, where she had entrenched herself with her
female companions in arms. She resisted heroically. A large number of
pirates and of "Buckler Maidens" met their death at that battle. Sigurd
having at last seriously wounded Thoborge with the blow of a battle axe,
she confessed herself vanquished and espoused the pirate.
Of such a nature was the savage chastity of these brave daughters of the
North. The Beautiful Shigne indicated that she was worthy of her stock.
An orphan since the death of her father and mother, both of whom were
killed at a sea battle, the young female warrior-maid had been adopted
by Rolf, an old Northman pirate chief, who was celebrated for his
numerous excursions into Gaul. This year he had come in less than a
fortnight from his northern seas to the mouth of the Seine, and was now
ascending the river with the intent to lay siege to Paris at the head of
a fleet of two thousand ships of war that were leisurely advancing under
the strokes of their oars and were preceded by the _holkers_ of Gaëlo
and Shigne. The two had the lead of the fleet by about one league. It
was the result of a challenge.
"The arms of my virgins are more robust than those of your champions,"
the Beautiful Shigne had said to Gaëlo. "I challenge your _holker_ to
compete in swiftness with mine. The arms of your champions will be tired
out before my virgin mates begin to slacken the strokes of their oars."
"Shigne, I accept the challenge. But if the test turns against you, will
you allow my _holker_ to do battle side by side with yours in this war?"
"You must be looking for help from me in case of danger," Shigne
answered, smiling haughtily; saying which, she motioned to her mates to
bend more vigorously to their oars and to start on the race.
Gaëlo issued a like order to his men, and the two _holkers_ rapidly
rowed away and ahead of the Northman fleet, each trying to gain the lead
of the other. For a long stretch the Buckler Maidens had the advantage,
but thanks to their redoubled efforts, Gaëlo's "Champions," as the
Northman chieftains styled their men, recovered the lost distance. The
sun was now sinking behind the wooded hills of one of the islets of the
Seine when the two craft were speeding forward abreast of each other and
with equal swiftness.
"Shigne, the sun is going down," observed the pirate Gaëlo. "Our vessels
are exactly abreast of each other, and the arms of my champions are not
yet tired."
"Their strength is great, seeing that they held up against my virgins,"
was the answer that the heroine made, accompanying the words with a
disdainful smile.
"Do your words mean praise for my champions, or do they imply mockery?
Explain your thoughts more clearly."
"Had we not a battle on hand with the Franks, my reply to you would be
an invitation to land on one of these islets and to fight, seven against
seven. You would soon enough discover whether my virgins are a match for
your champions or not."
"Must you, then, be vanquished in order to be pleased?"
"I do not know--I never have been vanquished. Orwarold asked my hand
from Rolf, our chief. Rolf answered him: 'I give you Shigne if you can
take her; I shall have her to-morrow on the isle of Garin, alone and
armed; go there.' Orwarold came; we fought; he wounded me in my arm with
a sword thrust; I killed him. Later, Olaf wished to marry me. But just
as the combat was to begin he said: 'Woman, I have not the courage to
raise my sword against you.'"
"Shigne, be just. The sagas have sung the prowesses of Olaf; he is brave
among the bravest. If he did not battle with you, it was not out of
cowardice, but out of love."
The Amazon laughed disdainfully, and rejoined: "I slashed Olaf's face
with the point of my sword, that was my answer to him."
"Your heart is colder than the ice of your native land! You reject my
love because I am of the Gallic race!"
"I care not about your race! Olaf and Orwarold were, like myself, born
on an island of Denmark. They could not vanquish me. The one tried and
failed, and lost his life for his presumption; the other did not dare.
The one I killed, the other's face I marked for life."
"Promise me, at least, that you will be no other's wife."
"An easy promise. Where is the warrior powerful and brave enough to
vanquish me?"
"And if you were vanquished, would you not be filled with anger? Would
you not ever after hate the victor?"
"No! I could only admire his courage!"
"Shigne, you and I could not cross swords in combat. Either you would
kill me, or I would have to kill you; in either case you would be lost
to me for a wife. But, seeing a combat is thus interdicted to us--would
you at least love me if I accomplished some great deed of valor? If the
sagas of your country sang my name side by side with the names of the
most renowned warriors?"
"Your bravery will never throw mine into amazement."
"Yesterday an old Gallic fugitive serf notified old Rolf that the
Franks had fortified the abbey of St. Denis in such a manner that it was
impregnable."
"There is no fortress, town or abbey that is impregnable. All that may
happen is that we may be detained several days before the monastery of
St. Denis, which Rolf had expected to capture by surprise. It is an
important post. It lies close to Paris."
"Will you love me if I seize the abbey of St. Denis, single-handed with
my companions?"
The face of the Buckler Maiden became purple. The throbs of her marble
bosom raised the mail of her armor. Straightening up to her full length,
she haughtily answered Gaëlo: "I will capture the abbey of St. Denis,
reputed to be impregnable."
Immediately upon these words, the Beautiful Shigne ordered her virgins
to row back and join the fleet of Rolf, whither the white hull of her
_holker_ darted like an arrow.