Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
VANDRAD THE VIKING
or
The Feud and the Spell
by
J. STORER CLOUSTON
WITH SIX ILLUSTRATIONS BY HUBERT PATON
CONTENTS.
I. THE WEST SEA SAILING
II. THE BAIRN-SLAYERS
III. THE HOLY ISLE
IV. THE ISLAND SPELL
V. ANDREAS THE HERMIT
VI. THE HALL OF LIOT
VII. THE VERDICT OF THE SWORD
VIII. IN THE CELL BY THE ROOST
IX. THE MESSAGE OF THE RUNES
X. KING BUE'S FEAST
XI. THE HOUSE IN THE FOREST
XII. THE MAGICIAN
XIII. ARROW AND SHIELD
XIV. THE MIDNIGHT GUEST
XV. THE LAST OF THE LAWMAN
XVI. KING ESTEIN
XVII. THE END OF THE STORY
CHAPTER I.
THE WEST SEA SAILING.
Long after King Estein had joined his fathers on the little holm
beyond Hernersfiord, and Helgi, Earl of Askland, had become but a
warlike memory, the skalds of Sogn still sang this tale of Vandrad
the Viking. It contained much wonderful magic, and some
astonishingly hard strokes, as they told it; but reading between
their lines, the magic bears a strong resemblance to many spells
cast even at this day, and as for the sword strokes, there was
need for them to be hard in Norway then. For that was the age of
the making of many kingdoms, and the North was beginning to do its
share.
One May morning, more than a thousand years ago, so the story
runs, an old man came slowly along a woodland track that uncoiled
itself from the mountain passes and snow-crowned inlands of
Norway. Presently the trees grew thinner, and grass and wild
flowers spread on either hand, and at last, just where the path
dipped down to the water-side at Hernersfiord, the traveller
stopped. For a while he remained there in the morning sunshine,
watching the scene below, and now and then speaking out his
thoughts absently in the rapt manner of a visionary.
Though his clothes were old and weather-stained, and bare of any
ornament, his face and bearing were such as strike the mind at
once and stay in the memory. He was tall and powerfully framed,
and bore his years and the white volume of his beard in an
altogether stately fashion; but his eyes were most indelible, pale
blue and singularly cold in repose, very bright and keen and
searching when his face was animated.
They saw much to stir them that morning. On the slope above
Hernersfiord stood the royal hall of Hakonstad, the seat of the
kings of Sogn; and all about the house, and right down to the
water's edge, there was a great bustle and movement of men. From
the upland valley at the fiord head, warriors trooped down to the
ships that lay by the long stone pier. The morning sun glanced on
their helmets and coats of mail, and in the still air the clash of
preparation rang far up the pine-clad hillside. He could see some
bringing weapons and provisions down to the shore, and others
busily lading the ships. Women mingled in the crowd, and every
here and there a gay cloak and gilded helm marked a leader of
rank.
"Ay, the season has come for Vikings to put to sea again," he
said. "Brave and gay are the warriors of Sogn, and lightly they
leave. When a man is young, all roads are pleasant, and all lead
home again. Many have I seen set sail these last sixty years, and
their sailing led them--where?"
And then again, as the stir increased, and he could see the men
beginning to troop on board the long ships,--
"This voyage shall be as the falling of snowflakes into the sea;
but what man can escape his fate?"
Meanwhile a party of men had just left the woods, and were coming
down the path to the fiord, ten or twelve in all, headed by an
exceedingly broad, black-bearded man, clad in a leather coat
closely covered all over with steel scales, and bearing on his
shoulder a ponderous halberd.
The path was very narrow at that point, and he of the black beard
called out gruffly,--
"Make way, old man! Give room to pass."
Roused abruptly from his reverie, the dreamer turned quietly, but
made no movement to the side. The party by this time were so close
that they had perforce to halt, with some clash of armour, and
again their captain cried,--
"Are you deaf? Make way!"
Yet there was something daunting in the other's pale eye, and
though the Viking moved the halberd uneasily on his shoulder, his
own glance shifted. With the slightest intonation of contempt, the
traveller asked,--
"Who bids me make way?"
The black-bearded man looked at him with an air of some
astonishment, and then answered shortly,--
"They call me Ketill; but what is that to you?"
Without heeding the other's gruffness, the old man asked,--
"Does King Hakon sail from Hernersfiord to-day?"
"King Hakon has not sailed for many a day. His son leads this
force."
"Ay, I had forgotten, we are both old men now. Then Estein sails
to-day?"
"Ay, and I sail with him. My ship awaits me, so make way, old
man," replied Ketill.
"Whither do ye sail?"
"To the west seas. I have no time for talking more. Do you hear?"
"Go on then," replied the old man, stepping to one side;
"something tells me that Estein will have need of all his men
before this voyage is over."
Without stopping for further words, the black-bearded captain and
his men pushed past and continued their way to the fiord, while
the old man slowly followed them.
As he went down the hillside he talked again aloud to himself:--
"Ay, this then is the meaning of my warning dreams--danger in the
south lands, danger on the seas. Little heed will Estein Hakonson
pay to the words of an old man, yet I am fain to see the youth
again, and what the gods reveal to me I must speak."
Down below, near the foot of the path that led from the pier up to
the hall of Hakonstad, a cluster of chiefs stood talking. In the
midst of them, Hakon, King of Sogn, one of the independent
kinglings who reigned in the then chaotic Norway, watched the
departure of his son.
He was a venerable figure, conspicuous by his long, wintry locks
and embroidered cloak of blue, straight as a spear-shaft, but
grown too old for warfare. His hand rested on the shoulder of Earl
Sigvald of Askland, a bluff old warrior, long the king's most
faithful counsellor and companion in arms. Before them stood his
son Estein, a tall, auburn-haired, bright-eyed young man, gaily
dressed, after the fashion of the times, in red kirtle and cloak,
and armed as yet only with a gilded helmet, surmounted with a pair
of hawk's wings, and a sword girt to his side. His face, though
regular and handsome, would have been rather too grave and
reserved but for the keenness of his eyes, and a very pleasant
smile which at times lit up his features when he spoke.
After they had talked for a while, he glanced round him, and saw
that the bustle was subsiding, and most of the men had gone
aboard.
"All is ready now," he said.
"Ay," replied Thorkel Sigurdson, one of his ship captains, "they
wait but for us."
"Farewell then, Estein!" cried the earl. "Thor speed you, and send
you worthy foemen!"
"My son, I can ill spare you," said the king. "But it becomes a
king's son to see the world, and prove his valour in distant
lands. Warfare in the Baltic seas is but a pastime for common
Vikings. England and Valland, [Footnote: France] the countries of
the black man and the flat lands of the rivers, lie before you.
There Estein Hakonson must feed the wolves."
"And yet, Estein," he added in a lower tone, as he embraced him,
"I would that Yule were here again and you with it. I am growing
old, and my dreams last night were sorrow-laden."
"Farewell, son of Hakon!" shouted a loud-mouthed chieftain. "I
would that I too were sailing to the southern lands. Spare not,
Estein; fire and sword in England, sword and fire in Valland!"
The group had broken up, and Estein was about to go on board when
he heard himself hailed by name. He looked round, and saw the same
old man who had accosted Ketill coming down the pier after him.
"Hail, Estein Hakonson!" he cried; "I have come far to see thee."
"Hail, old man!" replied Estein courteously; "what errand brings
you here?"
"You know me not?" said the old man, looking at him keenly.
"Nay, I cannot call your face to mind."
"My name is Atli, and if my features are strange to thee, much
stranger must my name be."
He took Estein's hand, looked closely into his eyes for a minute,
and then said solemnly,--
"Estein Hakonson, this voyage will have an ending other than ye
deem. Troubles I see before ye--fishes feeding on warriors, and
winds that blow as they list, and not as ye."
"That is likely enough," replied Estein. "We are not sailing on a
trading voyage, and in the west seas the winds often blow high.
But what luck shall I have?"
"Strange luck, Estein, I see before thee. Thou shalt be warned and
heed not. More shall be left undone than shall be done. There
shall come a change in thee that I cannot fathom. Many that set
out shall not return, but thine own fate is dim to me."
A young man of barely twenty, very gaily dressed and martial-looking,
had come up to them while they were talking. He had a
reckless, merry look on his handsome face, and bore himself as
though he was aware of his personal attractions.
"And what is my fate, old man?" he asked, more as if he were in
jest than in earnest. "Shall I feed the fishes, or make this
strange change with Estein into a troll, [Footnote: A kind of
goblin] or werewolf, or whatsoever form he is to take?"
"Thy fate is naught to me, Helgi Sigvaldson," replied the seer;
"yet I think thou wilt never be far from Estein."
"That was easily answered," said Helgi with a laugh. "And I can
read my fate yet further. When I part from my foster-brother
Estein, then shall a man go to Valhalla. What say you to that?"
Atli's face darkened.
"Darest thou mock me?" he cried.
"Not so," interposed Estein. "' Bare is back without brother
behind it,' and Helgi means that death only can part us. Farewell,
Atli! If your prophecy comes true, and I return alive, you may
choose what gift you please from among my spoils."
"Little spoil there will be, Estein!" answered the old man, as the
foster-brothers turned from him down the pier.
The last man sprang on board, the oars dipped in the still water,
and as the little fleet moved slowly down the fiord the crowd on
shore gradually dispersed.
Out at sea, beyond the high headlands that guarded Hernersfiord, a
fresh breeze was blowing briskly from the north-east, and past the
rocky islets of the coast white caps gleamed in the sunshine. As
the ships drew clear of the fiord, and the boom of the outer sea
breaking on the skerries rose louder and nearer, sails were spread
and oars shipped. Slowly at first, and then more quickly as they
caught the deep-sea wind, the vessels cut the open water. Past the
islands they heeled to the breeze, and over a wake of foam the men
watched the mountains of Norway sink slowly into the wilderness of
waters.
On the decked poop of an open boat, sailing over an ocean unknown
to him, towards countries of whose whereabouts he was only vaguely
informed, Estein Hakonson stood lost in stirring fancies. He was
the only surviving son of the King of Sogn. Three brothers had
fallen in battle, one had perished at sea, and another, the
eldest, had died beneath a burning roof-tree. His education had
been conducted according to the only standard known in
Scandinavia. At fourteen he had slain his first man in fair fight;
at seventeen he was a Viking captain on the Baltic; and now, at
two-and-twenty--old far beyond his years and hardened in varied
experience--he was setting forth on the Viking path that led to
the wonderful countries of the south.
The tide of Norse energy was not yet at the full, the fury and the
terror were waxing fast, and the fever of unrest was ever
spreading through the North. Men were always coming back with
tales of monasteries filled with untold wealth, and rich provinces
to be won by the sword. Skalds sang of the deeds done in the
south, and shiploads of spoil confirmed their lays. Little wonder
then that Estein should feel his heart beat high as he stood by
the great tiller.
That night, long after the sun was set, he still sat on deck
watching the stars. By-and-by his foster-brother Helgi came up to
him, wrapped in a long sea cloak, and humming softly to himself.
"The night is fair, Estein. If Thor is kind, and this wind speeds
us, we shall soon reach England."
"Ay, if the gods are with us," answered Estein. "I am trying to
read the stars. Methinks they are unfavourable."
Helgi laughed. "What know you of the stars?" he said, "and what
does Estein Hakonson want with white magic? Will it make his life
one day longer? Will it make mine, if I too read the stars?"
"Not one day, Helgi, not one instant of time. We are in the hands
of the gods. This serves but to while away a long night."
"Norsemen should not read the stars," said Helgi. "These things
are for Finns and Lapps, and the poor peoples who fear us."
"I wished to know what Odin thought of Helgi Sigvaldson," said
Estein with a smile.
Helgi laughed lightly as he answered,--
"I know what Odin thinks of you, Estein--a foolish man and fey."
Estein stepped forward a pace, and leaning over the side gazed for
a while into the darkness. Helgi too was silent, but his blue eyes
danced and his heart beat high as his thoughts flew ahead of the
ship to the clash of arms and the shout of victory.
"There remains but me," said Estein at length. "Hakon has no other
son."
"And you have five brothers to avenge; the sword should not rust
long in your scabbard, Estein."
"Twice I have made the Danes pay a dear atonement for Eric. I
cannot punish Thor because he suffered Harald to drown, but if
ever in my life it be my fate to meet Thord the Tall, Snaekol
Gunnarson, or Thorfin of Skapstead, there shall be but one man
left to tell of our meeting."
"The burners of Olaf have long gone out of Norway, have they not?"
"I was but a child when my brother was burned like a fox in his
hole at Laxafiord. The burners knew my father too well to bide at
home and welcome him; and since then no man has told aught of
them, save that Thord the Tall at one time raided much in England,
and boasted widely of the burning. He perchance forgot that Hakon
had other sons.
"But now, Helgi, we must sleep while we may; nights may come when
we shall want it."
For six days and six nights they sailed with a favouring wind over
an empty ocean. On the seventh day land was sighted on the
starboard bow.
"Can that be England?" asked old Ulf, Estein's forecastle man, a
hairy, hugely muscular Viking from the far northern fiords.
"The coast of Scotland more likely," said Helgi. "Shall we try our
luck, Estein?"
"I should like to spill a little Scottish blood, and mayhap carry
off a maid or two," said Thorolf Hauskoldson, a young giant from
the upland dales.
"It may be but a waste of time," Estein replied. "We had best make
for England while this wind holds."
"I like not the look of the sky," said Ulf, gazing round him with
a frowning brow.
The wind had been dropping off for some time, and along the
eastern horizon the settled sky was giving place to heavy clouds.
For a short time Estein hesitated, but as the outlook grew more
threatening and the wind beat in flaws and gusts, now from one
quarter, now from another, the Vikings changed their course and
ran under oars and sails for the shelter of the land. Little
shelter it promised as they drew nearer: a dark, inhospitable line
of precipices stretched north and south as far as the eye could
reach, and even from a long distance they could see white flashes
breaking at the cliff foot. Again they changed their course; and
then, with a dull hum of approaching rain, a south-easterly storm
broke over them, and there was nothing for it but to turn and run
before the gale.
"I read the stars too well," said Estein grimly between his teeth,
clinging to the straining tiller, and watching the rollers rising
higher. "And the first part of Atli's prophecy has come true."
"Winds, war, and women make a Viking's luck," replied Helgi; "this
is but the first part of the rede."
At night the gale increased, the fleet was scattered over the
North Sea, and next morning from Estein's ship only two other
black hulls could be seen running before the tempest. Another wild
day passed, and it was not till the evening that the weather
moderated. Little by little the great seas began to calm, and the
drifts of stinging rain ceased. In their wake the stars struggled
through the cloud wrack, and towards morning the wind sank
altogether.