"Now, kinsman, let me endeavour to convince thee of thy folly," said
Jarl Rongvold to Erling, on the morning that followed the evening in
which the interview with the King had taken place, as they walked in
front of the house together.
"It needs no great power of speech to convince me of that," said Erling.
"The fact that I am still here, after what the King let out last night,
convinces me, without your aid, that I am a fool."
"And pray what said he that has had such powerful influence on thine
obtuse mind?"
"Truly he said little, but he expressed much. He gave way to an
unreasonable burst of passion when I did but claim justice and assert
our rights; and the man must be slow-witted indeed who could believe
that subdued passion is changed opinion. However, I will wait for
another interview until the sun is in the zenith--after that I leave,
whatever be the consequences. So it were well, kinsman, that you should
see and advise with your _master_."
The jarl bit his lip, and was on the point of turning away without
replying, when a remarkably stout and tall young man walked up and
accosted them.
"This is my son Rolf," said the jarl, turning round hastily.--"Our
kinsman, Erling the Bold. I go to attend the King. Make the most of
each other, for ye are not likely to be long in company."
"Are you that Rolf who is styled Ganger?" enquired Erling with some
interest.
"Aye," replied the other gruffly. "At least I am Rolf. Men choose to
call me Ganger because I prefer to gang on my legs rather than gang on
the legs of a horse. They say it is because no horse can carry me; but
thou seest that that is a lie, for I am not much heavier than thyself."
"I should like to know thee better, kinsman," said Erling.
Rolf Ganger did not respond so heartily to this as Erling wished, and he
felt much disappointed; for, being a man who did not often express his
feelings, he felt all the more keenly anything like a rebuff.
"What is your business with the King?" asked Rolf, after a short pause.
"To defy him," said our hero, under the influence of a burst of mingled
feelings.
Rolf Ganger looked at Erling in surprise.
"Thou dost not like the King, then?"
"I hate him!"
"So do I," said Rolf.
This interchange of sentiment seemed to break down the barriers of
diffidence which had hitherto existed between the two, for from that
moment their talk was earnest and confidential. Erling tried to get
Rolf to desert the King's cause and join his opponents, but the latter
shook his head, and said that they had no chance of success; and that it
was of no use joining a hopeless cause, even although he had strong
sympathy with it. While they were conversing, Jarl Rongvold came out
and summoned Erling to the presence of the King.
This was the first and last interview that our hero had with that Rolf
Ganger, whose name--although not much celebrated at that time--was
destined to appear in the pages of history as that of the conqueror of
Normandy, and the progenitor of line of English kings.
"I have sent for thee, Erling," said the King, in a voice so soft, yet
so constrained, that Erling could not avoid seeing that it was forced,
"to tell thee thou art at liberty to return to thy dalesmen with this
message--King Harald respects the opinions of the men of Horlingdal, and
he will hold a Thing at the Springs for the purpose of hearing their
views more fully, stating his own, and consulting with them about the
whole matter.--Art satisfied with that?" he asked, almost sternly.
"I will convey your message," said Erling.
"And the sooner the better," said the King. "By the way, there are two
roads leading to the Springs, I am told; is it so?" he added.
"There are," said Erling; "one goes by the uplands over the fells, the
other through the forest."
"Which would you recommend me to follow when I fare to the Springs?"
"The forest road is the best."
"It is that which thou wilt follow, I suppose?"
"It is," replied Erling.
"Well, get thee to horse, and make the most of thy time; my berserk here
will guide thee past the guards."
As he spoke, a man who had stood behind the King motionless as a statue
advanced towards the door. He was one of a peculiar class of men who
formed part of the bodyguard of the King. On his head there was a plain
steel helmet, but he wore no "serk", or shirt of mail (hence the name of
berserk, or bare of serk), and he was, like the rest of his comrades,
noted for being capable of working himself up into such a fury of
madness while in action, that few people of ordinary powers could stand
before his terrible onset. He was called Hake, the berserk of Hadeland,
and was comparatively short in stature, but looked shorter than he
really was, in consequence of the unnatural breadth and bulk of his
chest and shoulders. Hake led Erling out to the door of the house,
where they found Glumm waiting with two horses ready for the road.
"Thou art sharp this morning, Glumm."
"Better to be too sharp than too blunt," replied his friend. "It seemed
to me that whatever should be the result of the talk with the King
to-day, it were well to be ready for the road in good time. What is
yonder big-shouldered fellow doing?"
"Hush, Glumm," said Erling, with a smile, "thou must be respectful if
thou wouldst keep thy head on thy shoulders. That is Hake of Hadeland,
King Harald's famous berserk. He is to conduct us past the guards. I
only hope he may not have been commissioned to cut off our heads on the
way. But I think that perchance you and I might manage him together, if
our courage did not fail us!"
Glumm replied with that expression of contempt which is usually styled
turning up one's nose, and Erling laughed as he mounted his horse and
rode off at the heels of the berserk. He had good reason to look grave,
however, as he found out a few moments later. Just as they were about
to enter the forest, a voice was heard shouting behind, and Jarl
Rongvold was seen running after them.
"Ho! stay, kinsman, go not away without bidding us farewell. A safe and
speedy journey, lad, and give my good wishes to the old folk at
Haldorstede. Say that I trust things may yet be happily arranged
between the men of Horlingdal and the King."
As he spoke the jarl managed to move so that Erling's horse came between
him and the berserk; then he said quickly, in a low but earnest whisper:
"The King means to play thee false, Erling. I cannot explain, but do
thou be sure to take _the road by the fells_, and let not the berserk
know. Thy life depends on it. I am ordered to send this berserk with a
troop of nineteen men to waylay thee. They are to go _by the forest
road_.--There, thou canst not doubt my friendship for thee, for now my
life is in thy hands! Haste, thou hast no chance against such odds.
Farewell, Glumm," he added aloud; "give my respects to Ulf, when next ye
see him."
Jarl Rongvold waved his hand as he turned round and left his friends to
pursue their way.
They soon reached the point where they had met the two guards on the
previous day. After riding a little farther, so as to make sure of
being beyond the outmost patrol, the berserk reined up.
"Here I leave you to guard yourselves," he said.
"Truly we are indebted to thee for thy guidance thus far," said Erling.
"If you should still chance to meet with any of the guards, they will
let you pass, no doubt."
"No doubt," replied Erling, with a laugh, "and, should they object, we
have that which will persuade them."
He touched the hilt of his sword, and nodded good-humouredly to the
berserk, who did not appear to relish the jest at all.
"Your road lies through the forest, I believe?" said Hake, pausing and
looking back as he was about to ride away.
"That depends on circumstances," said Erling. "If the sun troubles me,
I may go by the forest,--if not, I may go by the fells. But I never can
tell beforehand which way my fancy may lead, and I always follow it."
So saying he put spurs to his horse and galloped away.
The berserk did the same, but it was evident that he was ill at ease,
for he grumbled very much, and complained a good deal of his ill luck.
He did not, however, slacken his pace on that account, but rather
increased it, until he reached Rongvoldstede, where he hastily summoned
nineteen armed men, mounted a fresh horse, and, ordering them to follow,
dashed back into the forest at full speed.
For some time he rode in silence by the side of a stout man who was his
subordinate officer.
"Krake," he said at length, "I cannot make up my mind which road this
Erling and his comrade are likely to have taken, so, as we must not miss
our men, the King's commands being very positive, I intend to send thee
by the mountain road with nine of the men, and go myself by the forest
with the other nine. We will ride each at full speed, and will be sure
to overtake them before they reach the split rock on the fells, or the
double-stemmed pine in the forest. If thou shalt fall in with them,
keep them in play till I come up, for I will hasten to join thee without
delay after reaching the double pine. If I meet them I will give the
attack at once, and thou wilt hasten to join me after passing the split
rock. Now, away, for here our roads part."
In accordance with this plan the troop was divided, and each portion
rode off at full speed.
Meanwhile Erling and Glumm pursued their way, chatting as they rode
along, and pausing occasionally to breathe their horses.
"What ails thee, Erling?" said Glumm abruptly. "One would fancy that
the fair Hilda was behind thee, so often hast thou looked back since the
berserk left us."
"It is because the fair Hilda is before me that I look so often over my
shoulder, for I suspect that there are those behind us who will one day
cause her grief," replied Erling sadly; then, assuming a gay air, he
added--"Come, friend Glumm, I wish to know thy mind in regard to a
matter of some importance. How wouldst thou like to engage, single
handed, with ten men?"
Glumm smiled grimly, as he was wont to do when amused by anything--
which, to say truth, was not often.
"Truly," said he, "my answer to that must depend on thine answer to
this--Am I supposed to have my back against a cliff, or to be surrounded
by the ten?"
"With thy back guarded, of course."
"In that case I should not refuse the fight, but I would prefer to be
more equally matched," said Glumm, "Two to one, now, is a common chance
of war, as thou knowest full well. I myself have had four against me at
one time--and when one is in good spirits this is not a serious
difficulty, unless there chance to be a berserk amongst them; even in
that case, by the use of a little activity of limb, one can separate
them, and so kill them in detail. But ten are almost too many for one
man, however bold, big, or skilful he may be."
"Then what--wouldst thou say to twenty against two?" asked Erling,
giving a peculiar glance at his friend.
"That were better than ten to one, because two stout fellows back to
back are not easily overcome, if the fight be fair with sword and axe,
and arrows or spears be not allowed. Thou and I, Erling, might make a
good stand together against twenty, for we can use our weapons, and are
not small men. Nevertheless, I think that it would be our last fight,
though I make no doubt we should thin their number somewhat. But why
ask such questions?"
"Because I have taken a fancy to know to what extent I might count on
thee in case of surprise."
"To what extent!" said Glumm, flushing, and looking his friend full in
the face. "Hast known me so long to such small purpose, that ye should
doubt my willingness to stand by thee to the death, if need be, against
any odds?"
"Nay, be not so hasty, Glumm. I doubt not thy courage nor thy regard
for me, but I had a fancy to know what amount of odds thou wouldst deem
serious, for I may tell thee that our powers are likely to be put to the
proof to-day. My kinsman, Jarl Rongvold, told me at parting that twenty
men--and among them Hake the berserk--are to be sent after us, and are
doubtless even now upon our track."
"Then why this easy pace?" said Glumm, in a tone of great surprise.
"Surely there is no reason why we should abide the issue of such a
combat when nothing is to be gained by it and much to be lost; for if we
are killed, who will prepare the men of Horlingdal for the King's
approach, and tell of his intentions?"
"That is wisely spoken, Glumm; nevertheless I feel disposed to meet King
Harald's men."
"This spirit accords ill with the assertion that thou art not fond of
war," returned Glumm, with a smile.
"I am not so sure of that," rejoined Erling, with a look of perplexity.
"It is more the consequences of war--its evil effects on communities, on
women and children--that I dislike, than the mere matter of fighting,
which, although I cannot say I long for it, as some of our friends do, I
can truly assert I take some pleasure in, when engaged in it. Besides,
in this case I do not wish to meet these fellows for a mere piece of
brag, but I think it might teach King Harald that he has to do with men
who have heart and skill to use their weapons, and show him what he may
expect if he tries to subdue this district. However, be that as it may,
the question is, shall we hang back and accept this challenge--for such
I regard it--or shall we push on?"
"Yonder is an answer to that question, which settles it for us," said
Glumm quietly, pointing to a ridge on the right of the bridle path,
which rose high above the tree tops. A troop of horsemen were seen to
cross it and gallop down the slope, where they quickly disappeared in
the forest.
"How many didst thou count?" asked Erling, with a look of surprise.
"Only ten," answered Glumm.
"Come," cried Erling cheerfully, as he drew his sword, "the odds are not
so great as we had expected. I suppose that King Harald must have
thought us poor-looking warriors, or perchance he has sent ten
berserkers against us. Anyhow I am content. Only one thing do I
regret, and that is, that, among the other foolish acts I have been
guilty of at this time, I left my good battle-axe behind me. This is a
level piece of sward. Shall we await them here?"
"Aye," was Glumm's laconic answer, as he felt the edge of his long
two-handed sword, settled himself more firmly on his seat, and carefully
looked to the fastenings of his armour.
Erling did the same, and both drew up their steeds with their backs
towards an impenetrable thicket. In front lay a level stretch of
ground, encumbered only here and there with one or two small bushes,
beyond which they had a view far into the dark forest, where the armour
of the approaching horsemen could be seen glancing among the tree stems.
"It is likely," muttered Erling, "that they will try to speak us fair at
first. Most assassins do, to throw men off their guard. I counsel that
our words be few and our action quick."
Glumm gave vent to a deep, short laugh, which sounded, however,
marvellously like a growl, and again said--
"Aye."
Next moment the ten horsemen galloped towards them, and reined up at the
distance of a few yards, while two of them advanced. One of these, who
was no other than Krake the berserk, said in a loud, commanding voice--
"Yield thee, Erling, in the name of the King!"
"That for the King!" cried Erling, splitting the head of Krake's horse
with the edge of his sword, and receiving Krake himself on the point of
it as he fell forward, so that it went in at his breast and came out at
his back. At the same time Glumm's horse sprang forward, his long sword
whistled sharply as it flashed through the air, and, next moment, the
head of the second man was rolling on the ground.
So sudden was the onset that the others had barely time to guard
themselves when Glumm's heavy sword cleft the top of the shield and the
helmet of one, tumbling him out of the saddle, while the point of
Erling's lighter weapon pierced the throat of another. The remaining
six turned aside, right and left, so as to divide their opponents, and
then attacked them with great fury--for they were all brave and picked
men. At first Erling and Glumm had enough to do to defend themselves,
without attempting to attack, but at a critical moment the horse of one
of Glumm's opponents stumbled, and his rider being exposed was instantly
cut down. Glumm now uttered a shout, for he felt sure of victory,
having only two to deal with. Erling's sword proved to be too short for
such a combat, for his enemies were armed with long and heavy weapons,
and one of them had a spear. He eluded their assaults, however, with
amazing activity, and wounded one of them so badly that he was obliged
to retire from the fray. Seeing this our hero made a sudden rush at one
of the men who fought with a battle-axe, seized the axe by the handle,
and with one sweep of his sword lopped off the man's arm.
Then did Erling also feel that victory was secure, for he now wielded an
axe that was almost as good and heavy as his own, and only one man stood
before him. Under the impulse of this feeling he uttered a shout which
rang through the forest like the roar of a lion.
Now, well would it have been for both Erling and Glumm if they had
restrained themselves on that occasion, for the shouts they uttered
served to guide two bands of enemies who were in search of them.
It will be remembered that Hake the berserk had gone after our heroes by
the forest road, but, not finding them so soon as he had anticipated,
and feeling a sort of irresistible belief that they had after all gone
by the fells, he altered his own plans in so far that he turned towards
the road leading by the mountains, before he reached the pine with the
double stem. Thus he just missed those whom he sought, and, after some
time, came to the conclusion that he was a fool, and had made a great
mistake in not holding to his original plan. By way of improving
matters he divided his little band into two, and sending five of his men
in one direction, rode off with the remaining four in another. Krake,
on the contrary, had fulfilled his orders to the letter; had gone to the
split rock, and then hastened to the double-stemmed pine, not far from
which, as we have seen, he found the men of whom he was in search, and
also met his death.
One of the bands of five men chanced to be within earshot when Erling
shouted, and they immediately bore down in the direction, and cheered as
they came in sight of the combatants. The three men who yet stood up to
our friends wheeled about at once and galloped to meet them, only too
glad to be reinforced at such a critical moment.
There was a little stream which trickled over the edge of a rock close
to the spot where the combat had taken place. Erling and Glumm leaped
off their horses as if by one impulse, and, running to this, drank
deeply and hastily. As they ran back and vaulted into their saddles,
they heard a faint cheer in the far distance.
"Ha!" exclaimed Erling, "Harald doubtless _did_ send twenty men after
all, for here come the rest of them. It is good fortune that a berserk
is seldom a good leader--he should not have divided his force. These
eight must go down, friend Glumm, before the others come up, else are
our days numbered."
The expression of Glumm's blood-stained visage spoke volumes, but his
tongue uttered never a word. Indeed, there was no time for further
speech, for the eight men, who had conversed hurriedly together for a
few seconds, were now approaching. The two friends did not await the
attack, but, setting spurs to their horses, dashed straight at them.
Two were overturned in the shock, and their horses rolled on them, so
that they never rose again. On the right Erling hewed down one man, and
on the left his friend cut down another. They reined up, turned round,
and charged again, but the four who were left were too wise to withstand
the shock; they swerved aside. In doing so the foot of one of their
horses caught in a bramble. He stumbled, and the rider was thrown
violently against a tree and stunned, so that he could not remount.
This was fortunate, for Erling and Glumm were becoming exhausted, and
the three men who still opposed them were comparatively fresh. One of
these suddenly charged Glumm, and killed his horse. Glumm leaped up,
and, drawing his knife, stabbed the horse of the other to the heart. As
it fell he caught his rider by the right wrist, and with a sudden wrench
dislocated his arm. Erling meanwhile disabled one of the others, and
gave the third such a severe wound that he thought it best to seek
safety in flight.
Erling now turned to Glumm, and asked if he thought it would be best to
ride away from the men who were still to come up, or to remain and fight
them also.
"If there be five more," said Glumm, leaning against a tree, and
removing his helmet in order to wipe his brow, "then is our last battle
fought, for, although I have that in me which could manage to slay one,
I have not strength for two, much less three. Besides, my good steed is
dead, and we have no time to catch one of the others."
"Now will I become a berserk," cried Erling, casting his gilt helmet on
the ground and undoing the fastenings of his coat of mail. "Armour is
good when a man is strong, but when he is worn out it is only an
encumbrance. I counsel thee to follow my example."
"It is not a bad one," said Glumm, also throwing down his helmet and
stripping off his armour. "Ha! there are more of them than we counted
on--six."
As he spoke six horsemen were seen approaching through the distant
glades of the forest.
The two friends ran to the fountain before mentioned, slaked their
thirst, and hastily bathed their heads and faces; then, seizing their
swords and shields, and leaving the rest of their armour on the sward,
they ran to a rugged part of the ground, where horses could not act.
Mounting to the highest point of a rocky mound, they awaited the
approach of their foes.
Quickly they came forward, their faces blazing with wrath as they rode
over the field of battle, and saw their slaughtered comrades. Hake the
berserk rode in front, and, advancing as near as possible to the place
where his enemies stood, said tauntingly:
"What, are ye so fearful of only six men, after having slain so many?"
"Small meat would we make of thee and thy men, so that the crows might
pick it easily, if we were only half as fresh as ye are," said Erling;
"but we chose to rest here awhile, so if ye would fight ye must come
hither to us on foot."
"Nay, but methinks it would be well for both parties," returned the
berserk, "that they should fight on level ground."
Erling and Glumm had thrown themselves on the rocks to get as much rest
as possible before the inevitable combat that was still before them.
They consulted for a few seconds, and then the former replied:
"We will gladly come down, if ye will meet us on foot."
"Agreed," cried the berserk, leaping off his horse, and leading it to a
neighbouring tree, to which he fastened it. The others followed his
example. Then our two heroes arose and stretched themselves.
"It has been a good fight," said Erling. "Men will talk of it in days
to come, after we are far away in the world of spirits."
There was deep pathos in the tone of the young warrior as he spoke these
words, and cast his eyes upwards to the blue vault as if he sought to
penetrate that spirit world, on the threshold of which he believed
himself to stand.
"If we had but one hour's rest, or one other man on our side; but--" He
stopped suddenly, for the six men now stood in the middle of the little
plain where Erling and Glumm had fought so long and so valiantly that
day, and awaited their coming.
Hastily descending the mound, the two friends strode boldly towards
their opponents, scorning to let them see by look or gesture that they
were either fatigued or depressed. As they drew near, Erling singled
out Hake, and Glumm went towards a tall, powerful man, who stood ready
with a huge sword resting on his shoulder, as if eager to begin the
combat. Glumm had arranged in his own mind that that man and he should
die together. Beside him stood a warrior with a battle-axe, and a steel
helmet on his head. Before Glumm could reach his intended victim the
tall man's sword flashed in the air like a gleam of light, and the head
with the steel helmet went spinning on the ground!
"That's the way that Kettle Flatnose pays off old scores," cried the
Irish thrall, turning suddenly upon his late friends, and assailing one
of them with such fury that he cut him down in a few seconds, and then
ran to draw off one of the two who had attacked Erling. Glumm's
amazement at this was, as may well be believed, excessive; but it was
nothing to the intensity of his joy when he found suddenly that the
fight was now equalised, and that there stood only one man to oppose
him. His heart leaped up. New life gave spring to his muscles; and to
these new feelings he gave vent in one loud shout, as he sprang upon his
adversary and cleft him to the chin with one sweep of his sword!
Meanwhile Kettle Flatnose had killed his man; and he was about to come
up behind Hake and sweep off his head, when he was seized by Glumm and
dragged violently back.
"Would ye rob Erling of the honour of slaying this noted berserk?" he
said sternly.
"Truly," replied Kettle, somewhat abashed, "I did not know that he was
noted; and as for the honour of it, I do think that Erling seems to have
got honour enough to-day (if all this be his work) to content him for
some time to come; but as ye will," he added, putting the point of his
sword on the ground, and resting his arms on the hilt.
Glumm also leaned on his sword; and standing thus, these two watched the
fight.
Now, it may perhaps seem to some readers that as the other men had been
disposed of so summarily, it was strange that Erling the Bold should be
so long in dispatching this one; but for our hero's credit, we must
point out several facts which may have perhaps been overlooked. In the
first place, Kettle Flatnose was a thoroughly fresh man when he began
the fight, and although he killed two men, it must be remembered that
one of these was slain while off his guard. Then, Glumm did indeed slay
his man promptly, but he was one of King Harald's ordinary men-at-arms;
whereas Erling was opposed by one of the most celebrated of the King's
warriors--Hake, the berserk of Hadeland--a man whose name and prowess
were known far and wide, not only in Norway, but in Denmark, and all
along the southern shores of the Baltic. It would have been strange
indeed had such a man fallen easily before any human arm, much more
strange had he succumbed at once to one that had been already much
exhausted with fighting.
True to the brotherhood to which he belonged, the berserk attacked
Erling with incredible fury. He roared more like a mad bull than a man
as he made the onset; his eyes glared, his mouth foamed, and he bit his
shield as he was driven back. Being fresh, he danced round Erling
perpetually, springing in to cut and thrust, and leaping back to avoid
the terrific blows which the latter fetched at him with his weighty axe.
Once he made a cut at Erling's head, which the latter did not attempt
to parry, intending to trust to his helmet to defend him, and forgetting
for the moment that he had cast that useful piece of armour on the
plain. Luckily the blow was not truly aimed. It shore a lock from
Erling's head as he swung his axe against his opponent's shield, and
battered him down on his knees; but the berserk leaped up with a yell,
and again rushed at him. Hake happened just then to cast his eyes on
the two men who were quietly looking on, and he so managed the fight for
a few moments afterwards that he got near to them. Then turning towards
them with a howl of demoniacal fury, he made a desperate cut at the
unsuspecting Glumm, who was taken so thoroughly by surprise that he made
no movement whatever to defend himself. Fortunately. Kettle Flatnose
was on the alert, but he had only time to thrust his sword awkwardly
between Glumm's head and the descending weapon. The act prevented a
fatal gash, but it could not altogether arrest the force of the blow,
which fell on the flat of his sword, and beat it down on Glumm's skull
so violently that he was instantly stretched upon the green sward.
Erling's axe fell on the helm of the berserk almost at the same time.
Even in that moment of victory a feeling of respect for the courage and
boldness of this man touched the heart of Erling, who, with the
swiftness of thought, put in force his favourite practice--he turned the
edge of the axe, and the broad side of it fell on the steel headpiece
with tremendous force, causing the berserk of Hadeland to stretch
himself on the green sward beside Glumm the Gruff; thus ending the
famous battle of the "Berserkers and the Bold", in regard to which
Thikskul the scald writes:--
"The Bold one and his doughty friend,
Glumm the Gruff of Horlingsend,
Faced, fought, and felled, and bravely slew,
Full twenty men--a berserk crew
Sent by King Harald them to slay--
But much he rued it--lack-a-day!
The heroes cut and hacked them sore,
Hit, split, and slashed them back and fore--
And left them lying in their gore."