SHOWING HOW DISGRACE CAME UPON ALREK THE CHIEF
It was as though all the troubles of Vinland were gathered around that
dark heap in the ravine, and all the pleasures were gathered around the
Champions' hospitable fire. Built of juniper fagots whose sweetness
blended with the fragrance of the pine branches carpeting the floor, it
filled the air with the spicy aroma of Yule-tide; and Yule-tide cheer
was on the long tables on either side the hearth, and Yule-tide mirth
was on the faces above the board. Every leap of the flames revealed some
new treasure of claw or hide or antler; and at each admiring tribute
from their guests the Champions' hearts swelled with pride, so that they
were obliged to relieve the pressure by echoing at the top of their
lungs the song Rane was singing to chords from a home-made harp. The
only flaw in their content was that Karlsefne was not there to see
their glory. When an uproar among the dogs outside announced the arrival
of a guest, they left everything to fix eager eyes on the opening door.
The form that strode in out of the moonlight was Karlsefne's, followed
by Snorri of Iceland, but the breath they had thought to spend in cheers
went out in gasps as the dancing firelight showed his face. Stopping
just within the threshold, he stood gripping his silver-shod staff in
both hands before him, like a bar in the way of his wrath.
From the high-seat, the young chief saluted him with troubled mien: "We
bid you welcome, Karlsefne, and take it as an honor that you have come.
I hope your journey has been according to your pleasure, and that
nothing has happened which you dislike?" He made a sign that Erlend, in
his feasting clothes of blue-and-silver, should act as master of
ceremonies and conduct the distinguished guest to the seat prepared for
him.
The Lawman did not appear to heed the invitation. "I give you thanks for
your greeting," he said, "but I will not conceal it from you that
something has happened. Before this feast goes any further, I want to
put some questions to your men."
From some instinctive foreboding, Alrek glanced hastily across at Gard.
Finding the Ugly One's dark face as lowering as a storm cloud, while
Brand's beside him was aflash with excitement, the trouble in the young
chief's eyes deepened. Yet he answered steadily: "You are over-chief in
Vinland, Karlsefne, and must have your way about everything. Yet will
you not first take the seat of honor----"
"I will accept no hospitality here until this matter is cleared," the
Lawman grimly cut him short; then turned upon the Ugly One. "I want to
ask Gard Eldirsson what he paid the Skraelling for the skin yonder on
the high-seat?"
As he had given it each time before, Gard muttered his answer, without
looking up: "I gave him a piece of red cloth and a ring with a red stone
in it. He liked so well to get the ring that he put it on his finger as
soon as he got it."
Crack! the staff Karlsefne was gripping broke under the strain; it
seemed that his voice also must break from his control. "It was not seen
that he wore it to-day," he was beginning; when Brand arose, pushing
back his goblet and bowl with a loud clatter.
"If what you mean is that you have met that Skraelling and seen a knife
in his belt instead of a ring on his hand," he said, "I will spare you
the trouble of asking further by declaring that I traded it to him
myself. Gard lies when he says that he bought the skin. It happened that
from behind a tree he saw me give the weapon; and because he expected
that Alrek would slay me for daring it, he sought to save trouble by
making up the ring-story before I got a good chance to tell what I had
done. I gave him no thanks for it, as I do not lack the boldness to
stand behind any deed I do. I held my tongue only because I could not
speak without bringing him into trouble. Now I will hold it no longer,
and you may do what you like when my chief is through with me." He
flashed his leader his glance of affectionate insolence, and grinned at
the look he got in return. But before Alrek could answer, Karlsefne
spoke:
"You would have me believe that your chief does not know of this
matter?"
The Red One tossed his long locks with a flourish which suggested that
he was enjoying the excitement of the moment. "No more than the bench
before you," he answered. "He himself had started out to make an offer
for the skin, but he slipped on the ice and muddled his wits so that he
did not even hear the yell or know how he got into the booth, until he
found himself there with the fur before him----"
"Was it you who brought the fur into the booth?" Karlsefne interrupted
him.
But Gard took the answer out of Brand's mouth: "No, it was I who did
that. When the wild men began yelling and running, I saw Brand drop the
skin and run after them; and I picked it up and brought it into the
booth before I followed him. When I came back, Alrek was sitting there
and asked me where he had been." He turned toward the high-seat as
though he would address a word of apology to him who sat there, but the
pause was shattered by an unpleasant laugh from Snorri of Iceland.
"I call Loke as witness," he ejaculated, "that though I have dealt with
men in France and men in England and all that are nearer than those, I
have never seen given such a running-over measure of lies!"
"They are like saplings drifted ashore that one picks up for their good
shape and finds to be worm-eaten," Karlsefne responded; and the violence
of the anger he was holding back shook his towering frame and vibrated
through his deep voice. "Yet should it be kept in mind that these two
lied in order to assist a comrade. Only Alrek Ingolfsson lied for
himself."
In his place Alrek the Chief arose, his lips forming a question; but
Karlsefne stayed it with uplifted hand.
"I will make it plain that I do not wish to tempt you to further
falsehood. I tell you openly that I know you to be the man who slew the
Skraelling----"
"Slew?" repeated Alrek Sword-Bearer.
And "Slew!" cried the chorus of Champions; then divided into scattered
cries: "It was his death-yell--" "They took it as a warning--" "The next
time they come, it will be in war-clothes."
Hearing this last, Brand hammered the table with his fist. "Now I know
who killed him!" he cried joyfully. "It was Thorhall the Huntsman! More
than anything else he wanted to break off trade with the Skraellings and
stir the camp to discontent----"
"Now your tongue goes faster than your mind," the Iceland chief
interrupted him. "That trading day the Huntsman spent with me, setting
traps in the wood far north of here."
Brand shot his arrows desperately: "Then it was Ale the Greedy! Or Fat
Faste!"
But from the quarter where the Greenland guests sat, rose resentful
cries: "Faste was off all day fishing with me--" "I myself saw Ale in
the group before the Lawman's door!" "You take too much upon yourself!"
"Remember that the spoils were found in your booth!"
The Red One stood with empty quiver. And Gard left his place and went
and laid clumsy hands upon the Lawman's cloak.
"I swear that it was not Alrek but I who brought the skin into the
booth. I take oath that I am telling the truth this time," he said.
"_This_ time!" the Lawman repeated, so that the blood was rasped into
Gard's swarthy face.
"Nay, it was to help Brand that I lied before," he pleaded.
"And this time it is to help Alrek!" Karlsefne finished. "Learn, boy,
once and for all, that you can not spend your wealth and have it also in
your pouch. Learn now and forever that your word buys nothing when the
pouch of your honor is empty." Casting him off as he would have spoken
further, he turned upon the red-cloaked figure of the Sword-Bearer,
standing rigidly erect before the high-seat. "Too long, Alrek
Ingolfsson, have you hidden behind this shield; show now the boldness
which should be in your blood. That you lied because you wished to keep
my good opinion, I can guess. That you fell not upon the Skraelling
treacherously nor yet in greed of his property, I do you the justice to
believe. It may even be that he gave provocation to your mad temper by
seizing your weapon. I expect that you will acknowledge yourself guilty
and submit to me."
Their glances clashed like blades as Alrek turned his high-borne head.
"You can decide over my life, but I will never acknowledge that," he
said. "May the gallows take my body if I knew aught of the happening
until your own lips told of it. I say, moreover, that it is unjustly
done to accuse me of it only because others have juggled with the truth
and because it looks as though mine were the hand which had brought the
spoils hither."
That, at least, did not lack boldness. Flinging the broken staff from
him, Karlsefne made a stride forward; the veins of his forehead swelled
out white against purple. "This case has not yet been fully tried," he
said. "I have not told that those are my only reasons. Another proof is
this, which my own hand took from the Skraelling's head into which it
had bitten so deeply that not even his fall down the bank had dislodged
it." From his belt, where his cloak had hidden it, he drew forth the
stone hatchet, discolored with dark stains.
To Alrek of Norway it was like a trick of magic; his jaw fell and he
recoiled against the high-seat. "My hatchet!" he breathed.
Then the sheeted lightning of Karlsefne's eyes was loosed upon him.
"Tempt me with no more defiance lest I forget that I am a Lawman and
strike you dead where you stand! Recollect that I also am of Viking
stock, and tempt me not! Come down from the seat in which you were never
worthy to sit; put off the cloak whose soldierliness you have disgraced;
unbuckle the sword you can not be trusted to wear."
It was as though the Viking blood in Ingolf's son were a tiger that had
been wakened by a blow. Straightening with a terrible inarticulate cry,
he leaped to the floor and over the fire, his sword gleaming in his hand
before they knew he had drawn it.
But the Lawman's might-full figure neither gave back nor moved; the
blaze of his eyes neither weakened nor swerved. Tiger-like, the boy's
eyes wavered and fell aside; he halted, uncertain.
Karlsefne's voice was as the voice of thunder: "I am over-chief in
Vinland."
The flesh defied, but the soldier-drilled spirit heard. Slowly, Alrek
put up hands that shook from passion and unfastened the clasp on his
shoulder. With a soft sound the drapery fell and lay like a blood-pool
around his feet. Slowly and yet more slowly, he changed his hold upon
his weapon and extended it as it had never gone before--hilt forward.
Receiving it, the Lawman finished the sentence amid deathlike stillness:
"Hereafter, wear no color of soldiers, nor carry any more weapons than
the beasts whose uncontrol you show. You, Champions of Vinland, get you
another chief." Signing to Snorri to open the door he left the booth,
the Icelander following.
Spellbound, the revelers remained without sound or motion, until Brand
flung himself at the feet of Ingolfs son, thrusting into the brown hand
one of his own knives.
"You foretold that you should kill me some time," he whispered, and
bared his breast for the blow.
Those who saw the eyes the Viking bent upon him, believed that he would
do it; it was seen that his fingers closed upon the haft. Then suddenly
they thrust it from him with such force that its owner was thrown
backward.
"Keep away," he said hoarsely. "Keep away!" With hands flung out to keep
them off, he walked past them; and the door opened upon him and the
night swallowed him up.
PART THIRD
THE HUNTSMAN'S PREY