PROVING THAT ALREK'S EMPTY HANDS WERE FULL OF POWER
"A sail is not a small thing to ask for," Gudrid observed,--then raised
a finger hastily as Erlend would have pleaded his cause. "You will put
me in the most disobliging temper if you wake the child! As far off as
the table I heard him crying, and came and found that it had happened as
I suspected, that Roswitha had slipped out and left him. And he would
not be quieted unless I got a cord and looped it around his feet and let
him hold the ends and play at driving horses while he went to sleep!"
She laid a hand on the Amiable One's silken sleeve, and another on the
arm of Brand Erlingsson, and drew them gently off the dangerous ground
out into the great back dooryard where the four households of Vinland
sat in that contented idleness which follows the evening meal.
Roundabout the grassy space the stockade rose in grim foreboding; but
the three gates opened wide upon shadowy grove and silvered meadow, and
their three guards left their posts at will to bandy jests with their
comrades at the long tables under the trees. Over the juice of the
Vinland grape the men were lounging contentedly, while the cook-fires
sank into red embers, and the moon sailed up from the tree-tops and
floated free in the blue above them.
"It is certainly a night to bewitch one into promising anything! You
choose your time well," Gudrid said with a little shake of the sleeves
she was holding.
Brand moved his arm away abruptly; there was a limit to the liberties
which even one who was asking a favor could endure. Erlend, however, was
always affable.
"That will be seen if you grant our request," he answered. "It could not
take you long, Gudrid, if you are such a weaver as you consider
yourself. And I promise you that you should not lose by it, for we would
bring you back a fine present from our journey. The ship is well begun
now. We delayed about the sail as late as possible in the hope that
Alrek would come back and do the asking for us. We know that his favor
is no less with you because trouble has come on his hands."
Gudrid's face lost some of its wonted sweet serenity. "Alas, my
kinsman!" she sighed. "I wish my favor could do something useful for
him. I can tell you that even the child is full of longing for him. Time
and again, when he hears a step that is like Alrek's, he turns his eyes
toward the door and cries when it is not his kinsman who comes in."
The three walked a little way in silence; Erlend frowning perplexedly at
the ground, Brand kicking the heads off the clovers in the sullen
discomfort which this subject always aroused in him. Presently Gudrid
came slowly to a standstill.
"I am going yonder to speak with Jorund, Siggeir's wife," she said. "I
do not say that I will not do your weaving for you, but I must see first
how it goes with my dairy work. In the meanwhile, I wish you luck with
your undertaking."
"That is no worse than a promise," Erlend returned blandly, "for if you
do in truth wish us luck, you will help us all you can." And they
departed from her in high feather to tell their comrades of the boon
granted.
Standing where they had left her, Gudrid pondered a while whether she
really would cross the grass to the spot where Jorund and the two other
Greenland women gossiped beside a door-step, or whether she would go
into the booth where Karlsefne sat with his chiefs over a chart. There
was a matter of cheeses that she particularly wished to discuss with
Jorund, and yet it would be interesting to hear whether the Lawman had
seen any trace of Skraellings in his trip that day. Considering, she put
a hand up to finger her amber necklace, as was her habit, and made the
discovery that it was not there. She took her hand away with a gesture
of impatience.
"Now will Karlsefne laugh at me, for he has always said that this would
happen if I allowed Snorri to play with it! I remember that it was by
the river, where I sat with him this afternoon. I gave it to him to
bite, and then it happened that he dropped it to reach out for the boat
which Biorn was rowing past; and Biorn called to me, and I forgot to
pick it up again. Tch! What a stupid business! It is in my mind to slip
out and get it before any one notices that it is gone. The exact spot is
known to me."
Going over to the western gate, she looked out toward the shining river.
Less than a dozen trees dotted the space between her and the little
knoll on the bank where she had rested, and the moon made it almost as
bright as day. She gathered up her trailing kirtle with prompt decision.
"Any Skraelling small enough to hide in those shadows, is not big enough
to be afraid of," she said, and passed out quickly with her firm light
step.
That anything besides Skraellings might lurk in the shadows, she seemed
to forget. Reaching the bank, she sent one look of admiration out over
the radiant river, then bent her gaze to the foot of the tree among
whose roots her fingers were swiftly feeling. To look up into the
branches she had no thought whatever.
Yet not ten paces from her, Death lay along a bough,--Death in a tawny
body with eyes like fire and a tail like a serpent, noiselessly lashing
the air as the graceful form crouched for a spring.
The first warning she had was when a voice she knew spoke sharply from
the shadows before her: "Lie down on your face!" The catastrophe came
only a breath after the warning. As she threw herself forward, something
leaped over her and met something else in mid-air. There was the jar of
heavy bodies striking the earth, a crackle of breaking twigs, and the
silver stillness was profaned by a horrible sound of snarling and
long-drawn gasps.
Clutching at the tree-trunk, she tried to pull herself to her feet; but
the two struggled on the very skirt of her robe and held her pinioned.
Only over her shoulder she caught a glimpse of the giant cat, where it
lay on its back, clutching in its claws the boy who knelt on its lashing
body with no other weapon against the gaping jaws than his bare brown
hands. It seemed to her that she shrieked, and it is certain that she
swooned; for the next thing she knew, she lay on her face in the grass
with Alrek bending toward her.
"It is over," he said briefly, and dragged a heavy weight from her
skirt.
Pulling herself to her feet, she leaned dizzily against a tree, staring
down at the strange monster that had the shape of a cat and the size of
a hound.
"You choked him?" she whispered.
The Swordless One nodded. "There was no other way. Last week I saw him
leap down upon a deer and suck the blood from its throat. I thought then
that my hands on _his_ throat would be my only chance if ever we had
dealings together. Yet I did not think that he would come so near the
wall."
"It is God's miracle that you also chanced to be near it," she breathed.
"It is not all chance," he answered. "I have been here more than one
night since they began to set the tables under the trees. Torchlight
attracts other things besides sharks. It is like watching the red lights
of the North, to watch the cook-fires shine on the branches; and when
the men sing over their wine, the sound reaches out here so that it is
almost the same as though I were among--" He came slowly to
self-consciousness, and turned away and gave his attention to sopping
with his ragged cloak the blood trickling from his torn limbs.
[Illustration: With no other weapon than his bare brown hands.]
The sight of wounds brought Gudrid instantly to her capable self. "Tch,"
she said; and tearing her apron into strips, she put his hands aside and
fell to work with skilful swiftness. For a little, nothing was said
between them.
Yet it was not of the bleeding flesh that either was thinking in the
silence. More than once, Alrek insisted that the work was done and tried
to pull away from her and escape; and as her fingers flew, her mind went
even faster, seeking some means by which to bind up the bleeding spirit
as well. Suddenly, with her eyes on the empty brown hands that were yet
so full of power, the way was opened to her.
Looking up from where she knelt beside him, she spoke courageously:
"Kinsman, there is little need that I should tell you what you know by
yourself,--that although Karlsefne would grant you a pardon in payment
for this help, he would not give you his faith, which is what you want."
Though he had not flinched from the touch of her hand on his wounds,
the boy winced under her words. "I want neither his faith nor his
pardon!" he said between his teeth. "I beg you to let me go."
"Not until you have heard me," she answered. "I have said this to show
you that I am not speaking soft lies, but the truth. Now I am going to
tell you more truth; the right-minded thing for you to do is to come
back to the band and live as one of the men, until some twist of the
thread brings your rank back to you."
She worked a while after that without looking up, for she could feel his
glance beating down upon her. After a time he said huskily:
"It is of no use ... I am dishonored...."
At that she raised her eyes with a hint of scorn. "It is true then that
you did slay the Skraelling?"
He looked at her sorrowfully. "I had thought that you would believe in
me, kinswoman."
"Why, so I did," she answered, "until I heard you say that you were
dishonored. For if you did not touch the deed, how could it stain you?"
Rising up, she laid her palms upon his breast and made him give her eye
for eye. "Did it make your hands helpless because no sword was in them
to-night?" she challenged him. "I think I have never seen weapons more
powerful; nor was your eye less quick to see my peril, nor your heart
less brave to help me,--nay, you were twice brave that you came with
empty hands! Will you belie the courage and honor which you know you
have, because you lack the red cloth and the bit of steel that are the
runes which stand for them? If you will, you are not the Alrek
Ingolfsson that I had wished my child would be like."
Looking into his eyes she saw a fire, long quenched, kindle and burn;
and her palms on his breast felt the deep breath he drew; nor did he
have any words of disproof. Discreet as she was bold, she asked for no
words of assent. Leaving him, she went and tried to lift the forepart of
the limp body.
"Get this upon your back," she said. "The Champions will become glad at
this."
Silently he obeyed, drawing the dangling paws over his shoulder so that
the long body hung down his back like a tawny cloak. Slowly he followed
after as she turned and led the way toward the gate,--until they were
within two spear-lengths of it and a hubbub of voices and laughter came
out to them like a puff of wind. Then gradually his pace slackened, and
she looked around to find that his face was flooded with painful color.
She had the impulse to reach out and catch hold of him; but it was the
impulse which came to her lips that she acted on, speaking as quietly as
she would have spoken to her child had he ventured too near the edge of
a cliff: "I do not know whether it is to your mind to enter the camp
with me, but it is the truth that I shall hear enough of my foolishness
without having you lead me home as well as save me. If I slip through
this gate, as I came, will you use the east one, which is also nearer
your own booth?"
Then she knew that she had guessed aright, for once more he moved
forward, and under his breath he answered: "Yes."
By the time she had gained the center of the green, she knew also that
he had kept his word. Suddenly a joyous uproar went up from the tableful
of Vinland Champions, and some were rolled off the benches in the haste
of others to get on their feet; and crossing the moonlit space beyond
them, she saw a soldierly young figure with a mass of yellow fur
swinging from his shoulder--saw him and then lost him in the throng that
closed, cheering, about him.
Her firm sweet mouth relaxed happily. "That is the first step toward a
good outcome," she said. "If the Fates have any justice in their
breasts, they will attend to the rest." And from afar she beamed
brightly on the group, even as the moon above was beaming upon her.