A sunny day late in the harvest, not a cloud in the sky; a day when one
thinks the fair sun will give to the earth all the light she possesses!
The fair sun is like a mother whose son is about to set out for a
far-off land, and who, in the hour of the leave-taking, cannot take her
eyes from the beloved.
In the long valley where Kungahälla lies there is a row of small hills
covered with beech-wood. And now at harvest-time the trees have garbed
themselves in such splendid raiment that one's heart is gladdened. One
would almost think that the trees were going a-wooing. It looks as if
they had clothed themselves in gold and scarlet to win a rich bride by
their splendour.
The large island of Hisingen, on the other side of the river, had also
adorned itself. But Hisingen is covered with golden-white birch-trees.
At Hisingen the trees are clad in light colours, as if they are little
maidens in bridal attire.
But up the river, which comes rushing down towards the ocean as proudly
and wildly as if the harvest rain had filled it with frothy wine, there
passes the one ship after the other, rowing homewards. And when the
ships approach Kungahälla they hoist new white sails, instead of the old
ones of gray wadmal; and one cannot help thinking of old fairy-tales of
kings' sons who go out seeking adventures clothed in rags, but who throw
them off when they again enter the King's lofty hall.
But all the people of Kungahälla have assembled at the landing-stages.
Old and young are busy unloading goods from the ships. They fill the
storehouses with salt and train-oil, with costly weapons, and
many-coloured rugs. They haul large and small vessels on to land, they
question the returned seamen about their voyage. But suddenly all work
ceases, and every eye is turned towards the river.
Right between the big merchant vessels a large galley is making its way,
and people ask each other in astonishment who it can be that carries
sails striped with purple and a golden device on the prow; they wonder
what kind of ship it can be that comes flying over the waves like a
bird. They praise the oarsmen, who handle the oars so evenly that they
flash along the sides of the ship like an eagle's wings.
'It must be the Swedish Princess who is coming,' they say. 'It must be
the beautiful Princess Ingegerd, for whom Olaf Haraldsson has been
waiting the whole summer and harvest.'
And the women hasten down to the riverside to see the Princess when she
rows past them on her way to the King's Landing-Stage. Men and boys run
to the ships, or climb the roofs of the boathouses.
When the women see the Princess standing in gorgeous apparel, they begin
to shout to her, and to greet her with words of welcome; and every man
who sees her radiant face tears his cap from his head and swings it high
in the air. But on the King's Landing-Stage stands King Olaf himself,
and when he sees the Princess his face beams with gladness, and his eyes
light up with tender love.
And as it is now so late in the year that all the flowers are faded, the
young maidens pluck the golden-red autumnal leaves from the trees and
strew them on the bridge and in the street; and they hasten to deck
their houses with the bright berries of the mountain-ash and the
dark-red leaves of the poplar.
The Princess, who stands high on the ship, sees the people waving and
greeting her in welcome. She sees the golden-red leaves over which she
shall walk, and foremost on the landing-stage she sees the King awaiting
her with smiles. And the Princess forgets everything she would have said
and confessed. She forgets that she is not Ingegerd, she forgets
everything except the one thing, that she is to be the wife of Olaf
Haraldsson.
* * * * *
One Sunday Olaf Haraldsson was seated at table, and his beautiful Queen
sat by his side. He was talking eagerly with her, resting his elbow on
the table, and turning towards her, so that he could see her face. But
when Astrid spoke the King lowered his eyes in order not to think of
anything but her lovely voice, and when she had been speaking for a long
time he began to cut the table with his knife without thinking of what
he was doing. All King Olaf's men knew that he would not have done this
if he had remembered that it was Sunday; but they had far too great a
respect for King Olaf to venture to remind him that he was committing a
sin.
The longer Astrid talked, the more uneasy became his henchmen. The Queen
saw that they exchanged troubled glances with each other, but she did
not understand what was the matter.
All had finished eating, and the food had been removed, but King Olaf
still sat and talked with Astrid and cut the top of the table. A whole
little heap of chips lay in front of him. Then at last his friend Björn,
the son of Ogur from Selö, spoke.
'What day is it to-morrow, Eilif?' he asked, turning to one of the
torch-bearers.
'To-morrow is Monday,' answered Eilif in a loud and clear voice.
Then the King lifted his head and looked up at Eilif.
'Dost thou say that to-morrow is Monday?' he asked thoughtfully.
Without saying another word, the King gathered up all the chips he had
cut off the table into his hand, went to the fireplace, seized a burning
coal, and laid it on the chips, which soon caught fire. The King stood
quite still and let them burn to ashes in his hand. Then all the
henchmen rejoiced, but the young Queen grew pale as death.
'What sentence will he pronounce over me when he one day finds out my
sin,' she thought, 'he who punishes himself so hardly for so slight an
offence?'
* * * * *
Agge from Gardarike lay sick on board his galley in Kungahälla harbour.
He was lying in the narrow hold awaiting death. He had been suffering
for a long time from pains in his foot, and now there was an open sore,
and in the course of the last few hours it had begun to turn black.
'Thou needest not die, Agge,' said Lodulf from Kunghälla, who had come
on board to see his sick friend. 'Dost thou not know that King Olaf is
here in the town, and that God, on account of his piety and holiness,
has given him power to heal the sick? Send a message to him and ask him
to come and lay his hand upon thee, and thou wilt recover.'
'No, I cannot ask help from him,' answered Agge. 'Olaf Haraldsson hates
me because I have slain his foster-brother, Reor the White. If he knew
that my ship lay in the harbour, he would send his men to kill me.'
But when Lodulf had left Agge and gone into the town, he met the young
Queen, who had been in the forest gathering nuts.
'Queen,' Lodulf cried to her, 'say this to King Olaf: "Agge from
Gardarike, who has slain thy foster-brother, lies at the point of death
on his ship in the harbour."'
The young Queen hastened home and went immediately up to King Olaf, who
stood in the courtyard smoothing the mane of his horse.
'Rejoice, King Olaf!' she said. 'Agge from Gardarike, who slew thy
foster-brother, lies sick on his ship in the harbour and is near death.'
Olaf Haraldsson at once led his horse into the stable; then he went out
without sword or helmet. He went quickly down one of the narrow lanes
between the houses until he reached the harbour. There he found the ship
which belonged to Agge. The King was at the side of the sick man before
Agge's men thought of stopping him.
'Agge,' said King Olaf, 'many a time I have pursued thee on the sea, and
thou hast always escaped me. Now thou hast been struck down with
sickness here in my city. This is a sign to me that God hath given thy
life into my hands.'
Agge made no answer. He was utterly feeble, and death was very near.
Olaf Haraldsson laid his hands upon his breast and prayed to God.
'Give me the life of this mine enemy,' he said.
But the Queen, who had seen the King hasten down to the harbour without
helmet and sword, went into the hall, fetched his weapons and called for
some of his men. Then she hurried after him down to the ship. But when
she stood outside the narrow hold, she heard King Olaf praying for the
sick man.
Astrid looked in and saw the King and Agge without betraying her
presence. She saw that whilst the King's hands rested upon the forehead
and breast of the dying man, the deathly pallor vanished from his face;
he began to breathe lightly and quietly; he ceased moaning, and at last
he fell into a sound sleep.
Astrid went softly back to the King's Castle. She dragged the King's
sword after her along the road. Her face was paler than the dying man's
had been. Her breathing was heavy, like that of a dying person.
* * * * *
It was the morning of All Saints' Day, and King Olaf was ready to go to
Mass. He came out of the King's Hall and went across the courtyard
towards the gateway. Several of the King's henchmen stood in the
courtyard to accompany him to Mass. When the King came towards them,
they drew up in two rows, and the King passed between them.
Astrid stood in the narrow corridor outside the Women's Room and looked
down at the King. He wore a broad golden band round his head, and was
attired in a long mantle of red velvet. He went very quietly, and there
was a holy peace over his face. Astrid was terrified to see how much he
resembled the Saints and Kings that were carved in wood over the altar
in the Marie Church.
At the gateway stood a man in a broad-brimmed hat, and wearing a big
mantle. When the King approached him he threw off his mantle, lifted a
drawn sword, which he had hidden under it, and rushed at the King. But
when he was quite close to him, the mild and gentle glance of the King
fell upon him, and he suddenly stopped. He let his sword fall to the
ground, and fell on his knees.
King Olaf stood still, and looked at the man with the same clear glance;
the man tried to turn his eyes away from him, but he could not. At last
he burst into tears and sobs.
'Oh, King Olaf! King Olaf!' he moaned. 'Thine enemies sent me hither to
slay thee; but when I saw thy saintly face my sword fell from my hand.
Thine eyes, King Olaf, have felled me to the ground.'
Astrid sank upon her knees where she stood.
'Oh God, have mercy upon me, a sinner!' she said. 'Woe unto me, because
by lying and deceit I have become the wife of this man.'