"Well," began King Harald, "our home is in Thuleland, as the Skalds
call it; in Goetaland, as we name it. For Thuleland is the land where
one does _not_ dwell; where only, still nearer to the ice-mountains,
_other_ people live. Our realm reaches, towards the rising of the sun,
to the sea and our island, Gothland; towards the setting of the sun, as
far as Hallin and the Skioldungahaff; towards midday, to Smaland,
Skone, and the kingdom of the Sea-Danes; towards midnight, to Svealand.
The King is my father, Frode, whom Odin loves. He is much wiser than I;
but he has now crowned me as Vi-king, upon the sacred-stone at
King-Sala, because he is already a hundred years old, and quite blind.
Now the minstrels in our halls still sing the legends which tell that
you Goths were originally our brothers, and that only by reason of the
wandering of the peoples have you gradually drawn nearer to the south;
for you followed the flight of the crane from the Caucasus, but we the
running of the wolf."
"If that be so," said King Totila, smiling, "I prefer the crane for a
guide."
"It may well seem so to thee, sitting here in this gay drinking-hall,"
answered King Harald gravely. "But however that maybe--and I do not
quite believe it, for then we ought to understand each other's words
better--we truly and highly honour this our blood-relationship. For a
long time nothing but good news came from your warm realm to our cold
Gothaland--news of the highest fame. And once my father and your King
Thidrekr,[1] who is praised by the harp-songs of our Skalds, exchanged
envoys and gifts, through the agency of the Esthes, who live on the
Austrway. These men led our envoys to the Wends, on the Wyzla; these to
the Longobardians, on the Tisia; these to the Herulians, on the Dravus;
these through Savia to Salona and Ravenna."
"Thou art a man learned in roads and countries," observed Totila.
"That the Viking must be; for else he will never go forwards, and
likewise never get back. Well, for some time we only heard of your
glory and good fortune. But once and again there came bad news, brought
by merchants who bought our furs and eiderdown and amber, and took it
to the Frisians, and Saxons, and franks, giving us in exchange
artfully-formed vessels, and silver and gold. The news became sadder
and more sad; we heard that King Thidrekr had died, and that afterwards
great evils had broken out in your realm. We heard of defeat,
treachery, and of the murder of Kings; of Goths warring against Goths;
and of the might of the false Prince of Grekaland. And it was said that
you had broken your heads by thousands against the high walls of your
own Roman citadel, which was held not by you, but by a man like
Asathor, and another man still worse than the fire-fiend Loki. And we
asked if none of the many Kings and Princes who had begged favours of
Thidrekr of Raven could have helped you. But at that the Frank
merchant, who offered us fine tissues from the Wahala, laughed and
said, 'Broken fortunes, broken faith! They have all forsaken the
luckless Gothic heroes, Visigoths and Burgundians, Herulians and
Thuringians, and most of all we Franks, for we are wiser than all.'
But, on hearing this. King Frode threw down his staff angrily, and
cried, 'Where is my strong son Harald?" 'Here, father,' I answered, and
took his hand. 'Hast thou heard,' my father continued, 'the news of the
faithlessness of the Southland Kings? Such things shall not be said or
sung of the men of Goetaland! If all others turn away from the Goths of
Gardarike and Raven, we will keep faith and help them in their need.
Up, my brave Harald, and thou, my bold Haralda! equip a hundred
dragon-ships, and fill them with men and weapons. Put your hands deeply
into my royal treasure at Kinsala, and do not spare the heaped-up
golden rings. And set forth with Odin's wind in your sails. Go first
from Konghalla, past the island Danes and the Jutlanders, towards the
setting of the sun; thence along the coasts of the Frisians and the
Franks, through the narrow path of the sea; then sail farther round the
realm of the Sueves to the mountain land that is called Asturia; and
round the land of the Visigoths bend towards the south. Then wind
through the narrow strait of the wide ocean, where Asathor and Odin
have set two pillars.
"You will then have entered the sea of Midilgard, where lie innumerable
islands covered with evergreen bushes, out of which shine marble halls,
upheld by high, round stone-beams. Lay waste these islands, for they
belong to the false Prince of Grekaland. And then sail to the Roman
citadel or to Raven, and help the people of King Thidrekr against their
enemies. And fight for them by land and water, and stand by them until
all their enemies are overcome. And then speak to them and say: Thus
advises King Frode, who will soon have seen a hundred winters, and who
has seen the rise and fall of many peoples, and who, as a young Viking,
has himself visited the Southland. This is his advice: 'Leave the
Southland, however beautiful it may be. You cannot endure therein. As
little as the iceberg can endure when it drifts into the southern sea.
The sun, air, and waves consume it continually, and be it ever so
mighty, it must melt away and leave not a trace behind. It is better to
live in the poor Northland than to die in the rich Southland. Go on
board our dragon-ships, and equip your own, and fill them with all your
people; men, women, and children; and with your oxen and horses, and
weapons and treasures; and leave the hot ground that will surely
swallow you up, and come away to us. We will press closely together and
make room, or take as much land from the Wends and Esthes as you need.
And you shall be preserved fresh and green. Down there the southern
sun withers and scorches you.' This is the advice of King Frode, whom
men have called the Wise for fifty years. Now as we passed into the sea
of Midilgard, we had already heard from seafarers that your troubles
had been put an end to by a new King, whom they described as looking
like the god Baldur; that you had re-won the Roman citadel and all the
land of Gardarike, and had even victoriously carried destruction into
part of Grekaland itself. And now we see with our own eyes that you do
not need the aid of our weapons. You live in plenty and pleasure, and
everything is full of red gold and white stone. But still I must repeat
my father's words and advice; listen to him; he is wise! Until now,
every one who has despised King Frode's advice, has bitterly regretted
it."
But Totila shook his head, smiled, and said:
"We owe you and King Frode warm thanks for rare and noble faithfulness.
Such brotherly love from the Northern heroes shall never be forgotten
in the songs of the Goths. But, O King Harald, follow me and look about
you."
And Totila rose and took his guest by the hand, and led him to the
entrance of the pavilion, casting back the hanging curtains.
There lay river and land and city in the glowing light of the setting
sun.
"Look at this land, wonderful in the beauty of its sky and soil and
art. Look at this Tiber-stream, covered by a happy, jubilant, and
handsome people. Look at these masses of laurel and myrtle. Cast thine
eyes upon the columned palaces, which shine across from Rome in the
evening rays; on the tall marble figures upon these terrace-steps--and
say thou, if all this were thine, wouldst thou ever leave it? Wouldst
thou exchange all this magnificence for the firs and pines of the
cold land of the north, where spring-time never blooms, for the
smoke-blackened wooden huts on the misty heaths?"
"Aye, that I would, by Thorns hammer! This land is good to lay waste,
to luxuriate and win battles in; but that done, then up and away with
the booty! But you, Goths, are thrown here like drops of water upon hot
iron. And if ever we sons of Odin shall rule this land, it will be only
such of us as have a strong support in other sons of Odin. But you--you
have already become very different to us. Your grandfathers, your
fathers, and yourselves have wooed Roman women; in a few generations,
if this continue, you will be Romanised. Already you have become
smaller, and darker in skin, eyes, and hair. At least many of you. I
long to be away from this soft and sultry air, and to breathe the north
wind that rushes over our woods and waves. Yes, and I long for the
smoke-blackened halls of wood, where Gothic runes are burnt into the
roof-beams, and the harps of the Skalds hang on the wooden pillars, and
the sacred hearth-fire glows hospitably for ever! I long for our
Northland, for it is our home!"
"Then permit us to love _our_ home: this land Italia!"
"It will never be your home; but perhaps your grave. You are strangers
and will remain so. Or you will become Romanised. But there is no
abiding in the land possible for you as sons of Odin."
"Let us at least try, my brother Harald," cried Totila, laughing. "Yes,
we have changed in the two centuries during which our people have lived
among the laurels. But are we the worse for it? Is it necessary to wear
a bearskin in order to be a hero? Is it necessary to rob gold and
marble statues in order to enjoy them? Can one be only either a
barbarian or a Roman? Can we not keep the virtues of the Germans and
lay aside their faults? Adopt the virtues of the Romans without their
vices?"
But Harald shook his massive head.
"I should rejoice at your success, but I do not believe in it. The
plant takes the nature of the soil and climate upon and under which it
lives. And, for my part, I should not at all like it, even if I and
mine could succeed. Our faults are dearer to me than the virtues of the
Italians--if they have any."
Totila remembered the words with which he himself had answered Julius.
"From the north comes all strength--the world belongs to the Northmen,"
concluded Harald.
"Tell it to them in the words of thy favourite song," said his sister.
And she handed him her harp; and Harald played and sang an alliterative
measure, or _stabreim_, which Adalgoth, translating it into rhymed
verse, thus repeated to Valeria:
"Thor stood at the midnight end of the world,
And the battle-axe flew from his hand.
'As far as the battle-axe flies when hurled,
Is mine the sea and the land!'
And the hammer flew from his powerful hand
Like chaff by a hurricane blown:
And it fell in the farthest southern-land,
So that all became his own.
Since then 'tis German right and grace
With the hammer the lands to merit;
We come of the Hammer-God's noble race,
And his world-wide realm will inherit!"
A burst of applause from his Gothic hearers rewarded the royal
minstrel, who looked as if he could well realise the proud boast of the
song.
Harald once more emptied his deep golden cup. Then he rose and said:
"Now, my little sister Haralda, and you, my sailor brothers, we must
break up. We must be on board the _Midgardschlange_ before the moon
shines upon her deck. What says the Wikinga-Balk?--
"'Ill sleeps the ship
When her pilot lies on shore.'
"Long friendship--short parting; that is northern custom."
Totila laid his hand upon his guest's arm.
"Art thou in such haste? Fearest thou to become Romanised with us? Do
but remain; it does not come so quickly. And with thee would scarcely
happen."
"There thou art right, Rome-King," laughed the giant; "and, by Thor's
hammer, I am proud of it! But we must go. We had three things to do
here. To help you in battle. You do not need us. Or do you? Shall we
wait until new wars break out?"
"No," said Totila, with a smile; "we have peace and not new strife in
view. And if it should really once more come to a war--shall I prove
thee right, brother Harald, in thinking us Goths too weak to uphold our
rule alone? Have we not beaten our enemies without your help? Could we
not beat them again, we Goths alone?"
"I thought as much," said the Viking. "Secondly, we came to fetch you
back to the Northland. You will not come. And, thirdly, to lay waste
the islands of the Emperor of Grekaland. That is a merry sport, which
we have not sufficiently practised. Come with us, help us, and revenge
yourselves."
"No; the word of a king is sacred. We have agreed to an armistice which
has still several months to run. And listen, friend Harald. Have a care
and do not mistake _our_ islands for those of the Emperor. It would
displease me if----"
"No, no," laughed Harald, "fear nothing. We have already noticed that
thy harbours and coasts are excellently guarded. And here and there
thou hast erected high gallows, and affixed to them tablets inscribed
with Roman runes. Thy commodore at Panormus translated it to us:
"'Sea-robbers drowned,
Land-robbers hanged;
That is the law
In Totila's land.'
"And my sea-brothers have taken a great dislike to thy sticks and
tablets and runes. Farewell, then, Rome-King of the Goths! May thy
good-fortune endure! Farewell, lovely Queen of Night! Farewell, all you
heroes! we shall meet again in Walhalla, if not sooner."
And after taking a short leave, the northerners walked away.
Haralda threw her falcon into the air.
"Fly before us, Snotr--on deck!"
And the intelligent bird flew away, swift as an arrow, straight down
the river.
The King and Valeria accompanied their guests halfway down the
staircase; there they exchanged the last greetings. The Amazon cast one
more rapid glance at Totila.
Harald remarked it, and as they descended the last steps he whispered:
"Little sister, it is on thy account that I left so quickly. Do not
grieve about this handsome King. Thou knowest that I have inherited
from our father the gift of recognising men who are fated to die. I
tell thee, death by the spear hovers over this King's sunny head. He
will not again see the changing of the moon."
At this the strong and tender-hearted woman forced back the tears which
rose into her proud eyes.
Duke Guntharis, Earl Teja, and Duke Adalgoth accompanied the Goths to
their boats on the Tiber, and waited until they had put off.
Teja looked after them gravely.
"Yes, King Frode is wise," he said. "But folly is often sweeter than
truth; and grander. Go back to the terrace without me, Duke Guntharis.
I see the King's despatch-boat coming up the river. I will wait and see
what news it brings."
"I will wait with thee, my master," said Adalgoth, looking at Teja
anxiously. "Thy countenance is so terribly grave. What is the matter?"
"I have a foreboding, my Adalgoth," answered Teja, putting his arm
round the youth's neck. "See how rapidly the sun sets. I shudder! Let
us go and meet the boat--it will land below there, where lie the
ancient marble columns."
Totila and Valeria had returned to the pavilion.
"Wert thou moved, my beloved," asked the Roman girl with emotion, "by
what that stranger said? It was--Guntharis and Teja explained it to
me--of very grave import."
But Totila quickly raised his head.
"No, Valeria, it did not move me! I have taken great Theodoric's great
work upon my shoulders. I will live and die for the dream of my youth,
for my kingdom! Come--where is Adalgoth, my cup-bearer? Come; let us
once more pledge a cup, Valeria--let us drink to the good fortune of
the Gothic kingdom!"
And he lifted up his cup; but before he could put it to his lips,
Adalgoth, with a loud call, hurried up the steps followed by Teja.
"King Totila," cried Adalgoth breathlessly, "prepare to hear terrible
news; collect thyself----"
Totila set down his cup and asked, turning pale:
"What has happened?"
"Thy despatch-boat has brought news from Ancona. The Emperor has broken
the armistice--he has----"
Teja had now drawn near. He was pale with fury.
"Up, King Totila!" he cried. "Exchange the wreath for the helmet! Off
Senogallia, near Ancona, a Byzantine fleet suddenly attacked our
squadron which lay under the protection of the armistice. Our ships
no more exist. A powerful army of the enemy has landed. And the
commander-in-chief is--Cethegus the Prefect!"