CHAPTER XII

ROMANTIC ADVENTURES OF SIGURD

SIGURD, with his own dragon-ship, sailed northward, and landed on a

large island where there were many inhabitants. He wished to visit a

foster-sister of his, called Ingebjorg, whom he loved dearly, and who

received him with many demonstrations of joy. He was very proud of her,

for she was extremely beautiful, had dark brown hair and hazel eyes, and

was gifted with all the accomplishments that belonged to high-born

women, as well as possessed of a gentle and lovable character.

In the evening he betook himself to a large hall, where there was an

elaborate entertainment, and there were many guests present. He was

enthusiastically received, for many had heard of him. A very skilful

performer was playing on the harp, and Sigurd enjoyed it greatly, so

long was it since he had heard aught but the clangor of battle, and the

roar of the winds and waves. Near him sat three charming maidens, fair

to look upon, with whom he talked much. Their names were Thordis,

Ragnild, and Thorana.

Thordis was beautiful, and had charming little ways of her own. She was

noticeably dignified in manner, had a graceful figure, was dressed

coquettishly, and possessed an exquisite pair of almond-shaped bluish

eyes which seemed the incarnation of love. She was every inch a Hersir’s

daughter, and was a great favorite among the Vikings, to whom her

liberal ways and kind heart, as well as her beauty and accomplishments,

made her extremely attractive.

Ragnild was twenty years old, tall and slender; her hair was fair and

silky, her complexion as delicate as that of the apple blossom. The blue

dress she wore that evening was in delightful contrast to her fair skin

and hair. Her big blue eyes were like nests filled with little Cupids

ready to send their arrows right and left into the hearts of those who

came within their range.

Thorana, the shortest of the three, was twenty-two years of age, and

possessed a very graceful figure, with a pair of small eyes full of

mischief. Her head was adorned with thick chestnut hair of rich color,

with streaks as of burnished gold here and there. She was full of life,

had great individuality, and, in general, had very much her own way, as

she was an only daughter. All three maidens loved the society of scalds

and warriors.

The mothers of these three girls were handsome women, and all had

brought up their daughters with tender love and care, and taught them

all the accomplishments which were required of maidens of high birth.

Thordis had lost her father, and she and her mother mourned his death

greatly. She had a brother, a most charming and handsome fellow, whom

Sigurd liked at once.

A very few days after this entertainment, Thordis, Thorana, Ragnild, and

Sigurd had become fast friends, and called themselves cousins. They saw

each other every day, and met often in the banqueting hall in the

evening. One day Sigurd received a message from a friend, written in

mystic runes, in which Thordis, whose home was elsewhere, was casually

mentioned as visiting on the island, and the message also said that she

held large estates in her own right. This latter part of the message did

not please Sigurd, for he liked Thordis for her own sake and her

charming ways.

One day, when Thordis was seated by the side of her mother, Sigurd

appeared, and, after saluting them in his usual way, he said, with a

laughing expression: “Cousin Thordis, I have received a message, written

in mystic runes, in which your name is mentioned. It is sad news to me,

indeed. I wish I had never received it.”

At these words, Thordis’s big, beautiful eyes became twice as large as

they were before, and, with an inquiring and startled look, she said:

“Cousin Sigurd, I insist on knowing what your friend has written, and

who he is.”

“No,” said Sigurd, “you will never know who he is.”

“Then what did he say?” asked Thordis. “I insist upon knowing.”

“If you wish to know,” replied Sigurd, “I will tell you that. He wrote

that you were a lovely maiden, but that you possessed great wealth in

your own right; and this last part was sad news, indeed, to me. I wish I

had never received the message. I never cared or knew if you were rich,

and I like you for your own charming ways and for yourself, and——”

“Well,” replied Thordis, with apparently a feeling of great relief,

“your friend has deceived you;” to which assertion her mother nodded

assent.

“Certainly not in the first part of the message, where he says you are a

charming girl,” said Sigurd.

“There, also, he made a mistake,” she replied, laughing. “But never

mind, Cousin Sigurd.”

The following day, Ragnild, Thordis, and her brother, with Sigurd, drove

up to Eagle Mountain from which a beautiful view of the sea, of the

burg, and of the island could be seen.

Every day that passed away bound the friendship of these three maidens

with Sigurd stronger than before.

Alas! a day came when Ragnild’s mother, who was also a visitor on the

island, received a runic message from home, that they must return. Poor

Ragnild did not like it. She wanted to stay, for it was so pleasant on

the island. Sigurd was at least no better pleased, nor were Thordis and

Thorana, and it was with great regret that they parted; they followed

her to the ship, but not before they promised to meet again in the

winter. Ragnild was very much missed by them in all the entertainments

that followed, and Sigurd thought often afterwards of lovely Ragnild.

One day Sigurd proposed to Thordis and Thorana a moonlight drive, as the

weather was beautiful, and at that time, the beginning of September, the

moon was very brilliant. It was agreed that two other friends were to

go. They were pleasant men, full of life and jollity.

It was a beautiful night; not a cloud was seen in the sky. The full

moon, queen of the night, shone in all her glory; the stars glittered

and twinkled brilliantly in the deep azure of the firmament.

Waiting in front of the “skemma,” or bower, of Thordis and Thorana stood

a splendid four-wheeled carriage, wagon-like in shape, drawn by two of

the fleetest horses known in the country. The horses were very restive.

They champed the bit, pawed the ground, and snorted incessantly. Two men

held the fiery steeds firmly by the bridle, and it took all their might,

and in despite of this they could hardly prevent them from getting away

from them.

Sigurd and his two companions were anxiously waiting for the coming of

the two Vikings’ daughters. Thorana and Thordis at last made their

appearance, clad in their warm, graceful evening cloaks. Their faces

were radiant with expectation, for both had been looking forward to that

drive by moonlight and the sail on Eagle Lake, and were anticipating

great delight. Accompanying them was a middle-aged friend, a woman who

was to act, as we say in our modern way, as a chaperon. She was very

skilled in embroidery, and had great talent in representing on canvas

all kinds of scenery, views of the sea or landscape, either weird or

charming.

They had hardly entered the carriage, and had had no time to be seated,

when the horses, becoming apparently unmanageable, dashed forward, and,

as they rounded the corner of the way leading to the high road, the

vehicle seemed fairly to bend like a bow, and was on the point of being

overturned. Fortunately the great skill of the driver was equal to the

emergency. Then the carriage fairly flew over the ground, an

irresistible power seeming to impel the fiery steeds forward in their

furious speed.

The excitement was very great among all. Sigurd exclaimed that even

Sleipnir, the eight-footed horse of Odin, could not go faster, neither

could clouds, pushed before the tempest, fly forward more quickly. The

moonlight imparted a weird appearance to the landscape, the strange

shadows of the trees seemed to play all round them, and the shadows of

the rocks and of the hills appeared and disappeared, one after another,

in quick succession, like phantoms or ghosts.

Here and there they entered a part of the road densely wooded and where

the rays of the moon could not penetrate; then came a less dense part of

the forest, where tall, conical-shaped pines extended their phantom-like

shadows out upon the road and over themselves; then groves of aspens

came in sight, with their leaves quivering and frolicking as so many

merry maids. The heaven was their banqueting hall, the stars their

lights, and the murmur of the wind the music.

All were speechless and spell-bound at the speed of the coursers and the

unearthly beauty of all that passed swiftly before them, but once in a

while an exclamation of delight or of wonderment escaped from the lips

of Thordis and Thorana.

Sigurd, who had been silent for some time, suddenly seemed to see far

off in the sky nine Valkyrias riding in the air on fiery white steeds.

Skuld, the Norn personifying the future, was preceding them, and Sigurd

wondered why Skuld was with them, and what her appearance forebode. She

accompanied them evidently to see that the decrees of the Nornir, who

had shaped the lives of each of them at their birth, should be fulfilled

at the particular time. What were those decrees no human being knew.

Then Sigurd said to himself, “It was well ordered that no one should

know his fate beforehand.” He did not know that they had fated him to be

in love with Thorana or Thordis. Suddenly the Valkyrias and Skuld

appeared to vanish from his gaze.

As the carriage sped along, the horses ran faster than before; it seemed

hardly possible that the axles could stand the strain put upon them.

Such was the rattling, that every part of the vehicle seemed on the

point of coming to pieces. All shouted that they did not mind, that the

wild fun would be still greater than ever. In a word, the excitement had

rendered every one perfectly reckless of danger. “Why should the

daughters of Viking heroes be afraid?” exclaimed Thordis; and Thorana

shouted at the top of her voice: “It is good that our mothers are not

with us; my mother would have died of fright or faint, and then we

should have missed all our sport.”

Glimpses of Eagle Lake were finally seen through the foliage of the

trees, and soon afterwards they stopped before a solitary cabin near its

shores, their horses fairly covered with foam.

Every one declared that never had he driven so fast, or seen such superb

driving, or been so excited in his life. In a few moments two boats were

seen gliding out upon the waters of Eagle Lake, which was nestled in the

midst of wooded hills, while yonder was Eagle Mountain towering above

all. In one boat were Sigurd and Thorana; in the other, were Thordis and

her two friends. Sigurd wished that Thordis had been also in his boat.

The scene was most enchanting; not a ripple was seen on the crystal-like

water, which the moon had transformed into a mirror, in which the stars

coquettishly looked at themselves, while images of the hills and trees

were reflected along the shores.

“O mother Earth,” said Sigurd to himself as he contemplated that

never-to-be-forgotten night. “How beautiful thou art, when the moon

rules over thee instead of the sun! The moon gives us the night, the sun

the day. Some say that the nights were created for the sons of men to

sleep, but if it is so, why should the nights be so beautiful to behold,

when the moon shines, and the stars tremble and glitter in the blue of

the sky? Do not the nightingales sing their songs of love at night when

the moon is their sun? Love was born of the night; the nights of the

moon are the lover’s days, for the moon shines upon them, and kisses

them with her radiant and soft light.”

Thorana insisted on rowing herself. Her graceful figure bent forward and

backward at each stroke of the oars, her cousin Sigurd silently admiring

her all the time. Their companion enlivened the time by his bright

conversation and the recital of his numerous adventures, for he had been

in many distant countries, and his anecdotes were full of wit. The weird

echo repeated their words in the deep silence of that night, which was

only disturbed at intervals by the falling of the oars upon the water.

The two boats for a while drew wide apart, and their occupants amused

themselves by listening to the echo. Once Sigurd thought he saw Hugin

and Munin, the ravens of Odin, flying above his head on their way to

Valhalla, to tell the Ruler of Hosts all that was happening in the

world.

Then again, appeared to him the nine Valkyrias with Skuld, who had

followed them all the way; their spears glittered in the moonlight.

Skuld’s hair sent rays of light out over the night. For a while she

hovered over their boat, and then threw down upon the earth a superb

ball of fire, a shooting star; then with the Valkyrias she disappeared

in the direction of the Well of Urd. Every day the Nornir take the holy

water from the well, and, mixing it with the clay that lies round it,

pour it over the ash tree, Yggdrasil, that the branches may not dry up

or decay.

When the two boats came close together again, Sigurd saw two shadows

reflected in the water, more beautiful to him than those of stars and of

all that had been reflected in the water since Odin had made the world.

They were the shadows of Thorana and of Thordis. Their beautiful faces,

their graceful forms, their long hair, were like an apparition from the

deep. It was as if the two beautiful daughters of Ægir and Ran, Dufa

“the dove,” and Ud the “loving,” had come to see the men who were in the

boats.

Sigurd remained spell-bound before the sight, when, by a motion of the

boat, the shadow disappeared, never to reappear on the beautiful waters

of Eagle Lake, and in a short time they found themselves once more on

the shore.

Sigurd mentioned to no one that he had beheld Valkyrias with Skuld, and

the beautiful shadows of Thorana and Thordis, but all these visions had

made a deep impression on his mind, and he remained thoughtful all the

way home. The following day he made a sacrifice to the goddess Var, who,

as we have said, listens to the vows of love men make; but no one ever

heard of that vow. But we may safely say that the drive that beautiful

night and the row on Eagle Lake was never forgotten by any of those who

were there, as long as they lived.

A few days after the events we have just mentioned, Thorana and Thordis

made ready to go to their respective homes. The last evening of their

stay saw the same party together in the hall where they met first.

Nothing save death could have prevented Sigurd from being present. The

following morning all met on board of the ship that was to take his two

lovely cousins away from the island. A host of friends came to bid them

good-by, all apparently happy, for none had yet realized how they would

miss each other, and the good time they had all had, and that regrets

were soon to follow, and all wondered if all of them would meet again.

They parted with many expressions of love and friendship, and the

following day a messenger came and handed to Sigurd a message written in

mystic runes. It was from his cousins, who had written it on their way

home. These magic words were: “With best love, from your broken-hearted

cousins!” and a flush of joy overspread his face when he read this

loving message. He immediately sent a messenger to them with another

message, telling of his lonely feelings.

* * * * *

Sigurd felt utterly wretched after the departure of his two cousins,

though they were to meet again. A feeling of intense loneliness came

over him; all that was bright and cheerful in the island had gone; the

wind moaned; the waves, as they struck the shores, seemed to sing

mournfully in his ears, “Thy three cousins are gone, the rocky cliffs

will see them no more.” He even dreaded to pass the skemma where they

had stayed. No maiden could cheer him, for in his eyes none were so

lovely and accomplished as Thorana, Ragnild, and Thordis.

He whiled away the time by writing on birch bark a saga, in which he

recounted all that had happened on the island. Finally he concluded to

depart, and after sailing a few days he came to a burg where a

foster-brother by the name of Thorkel and he had been brought up

together. But Thorkel had been dead for several years. Sigurd wanted to

see his grave, and, after landing and telling his errand to the people,

he went towards the mound where Thorkel and his wife lay silently side

by side. They had been married but a short time ere Skuld snapped

asunder the thread that measured the days of their lives. He ascended

the mound and murmured to himself, “Here Thorkel and his wife lie. The

thinking minds that guided and moved their actions during their lives

have left them. Helpless, motionless, and without life they sleep.”

Looking up, he saw a butterfly of brilliant colors, with wings of gold

and rainbow tints, full of life, going merrily from one flower to

another, drinking of their nectar.

Whilst watching his joyous course, Sigurd exclaimed musingly: “All life

is ephemeral! Man and woman, like this butterfly and the flower, are but

the creatures of a day in the immensity of time and in the world which

the gods have made. What a beautiful life is that of the butterfly! He

lives in the air; his life is that of love and immortality. He spends

his days in caressing and kissing flowers, and becomes intoxicated with

their sweetness. Like love, he feeds on love. As soon as he has

fulfilled his destiny, and filled brimful the cup of love and drunk it,

he dies as a brilliant meteor that burst into life for an instant, like

the twinkling of a star that never returns. Thus the flower is born to

show her tempting beauty, her sweetness, and intoxicating nectar to the

butterfly. The flower was created for the butterfly, and the butterfly

for the flower; so were man and woman created for one another, and to

love each other, and, like love, their minds are immortal. Short is the

life of the butterfly and of the flower, but their existence in the

immensity of time is apparently not shorter than that of man. If the

lives of the butterfly and the flower are ephemeral, so also is the life

of man. In the immensity of time since the ‘Great Void,’ the lives of

all created things appear to the gods of the same duration. Man is born,

ushered into the present, and then into the future, and thenceforth

belongs to the past. We are tossed,” said Sigurd, “on the sea of life,

like a rudderless ship, and we sail from day to day towards the unknown

called by us the future, not knowing where we are going, nor how the

Nornir have shaped our lives; always hoping and hoping for something we

have not been able to grasp.”

In this reflective mood of mind, Sigurd left the mound, under which lay

two hearts which had been bound together by love during their lives, and

returned to his ship, wondering what were the number of days the Nornir

had decreed at his birth he should live, and also if he would ever find

a woman that he would love so much as to be impelled to ask her to

become his wife.

Then he sailed for Dampstadir, and there met Ivar and his two

foster-brothers waiting for him.

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Ivar the Viking A romantic history based upon authentic facts of the third and fourth centuries · 第 12 / 31 章