THE BAIRN-SLAYERS.
At earliest dawn eyes were strained to catch a glimpse of
something that might tell them where they were. None of the men on
Estein's ship had been in those seas more than two or three times
at most, and the vaguest conjectures were rife when, as the light
was slowly gaining, Ulf raised a cry of land ahead.
"Land to the right!" cried Helgi, a moment later.
"Land to the left!" exclaimed Estein; "and we are close on it,
methinks."
When the morning fully broke they found themselves lying off a
wide-mouthed sound, that bent and narrowed among low, lonely-looking
islands. Only on the more distant land to the right were
heather hills of any height to be seen, and those, so far as they
could judge, were uninhabited. A heavy swell was running in from
the open sea, and a canopy of grey clouds hung over all.
"I like not this country," said Ulf. "What think you is it?"
"The Hjaltland islands, I should think, from what men tell of
them," Estein suggested.
"The Orkneys more likely," said Thorolf, who had sailed in those
seas before.
Far astern one other vessel was making towards them.
"Which ship is that, Ulf?" asked Estein. "One of our fleet, think
you?"
"Ay, it is Thorkel Sigurdson's," replied the shaggy forecastle
man, after a long, frowning look.
"By the hammer of Thor, she seems in haste," said Helgi. "They
must have broached the ale over-night."
"Perchance Thorkel feels cold," suggested Thorolf with a laugh.
"They have taken the shields from the sides," Estein exclaimed as
the ship drew nearer. "Can there be an enemy, think you?"
Again Ulf's hairy face gathered into a heavy frown. "No man can say
I fear a foeman," he said, "but I should like ill to fight after
two sleepless nights."
"Bah! Thorkel is drunk as usual, and thinks we are chapmen,"
[Footnote: Merchants.] said Helgi. "They are doubtless making
ready to board us."
The ship drew so near that they could plainly see the men on
board, and conspicuous among them the tall form of Thorkel
appeared in the bow.
"He waves to us; there is something behind this," said Estein.
"Drunk," muttered Helgi. "I wager my gold-handled sword he is
drunk. They have ale enough on board to float the ship."
"A sail!" Estein exclaimed, pointing to a promontory to seaward
round which the low black hull and coloured sail of a warship were
just appearing.
"Ay, and another!" said Ulf.
"Three-four-seven-eight!" Helgi cried.
"There come nine, and ten!" added Estein. "How many more?"
They watched the strange fleet in silence as one by one they
turned and bore down upon them, ten ships in all, their oars
rhythmically churning the sea, the strange monsters on the prows
creeping gradually nearer.
"Orkney Vikings," muttered Ulf. "If I know one long ship from
another, they are Orkney Vikings."
Meantime Thorkel's ship had drawn close alongside, and its captain
hailed Estein.
"There is little time for talking now, son of Hakon!" he shouted.
"What think you we should do?--run into the islands, or go to Odin
where we are? These men, methinks, will show us little mercy."
"I seek mercy from no man," answered Estein. "We will bide where
we are. We could not escape them if we would, and I would not if I
could. Have you seen aught of the other ships?"
"We parted from Ketill yesterday, and I fear me he has gone to
feed the fishes. I have seen nothing of Asgrim and the rest. I
think with you, Estein, that the bottom here will make as soft a
resting-place for us as elsewhere. Fill the beakers and serve the
men! It is ill that a man should die thirsty."
The stout sea-rover turned with a gleam of grim humour in his eyes
to the enjoyment of what he fully expected would be his last drink
on earth, and on both ships men buckled on their armour and
bestirred themselves for fight.
Vikings in those days preyed on one another as freely as on men of
alien blood. They came out to fight, and better sport could
generally be had from a crew of seasoned warriors like themselves
than from the softer peoples of the south. Particularly were the
Orkney and Shetland islands the stations for the freest of free
lances, men so hostile to all semblance of law and order that the
son of a Norwegian king would seem in their eyes a most desirable
quarry. Many a load of hard-won spoil changed hands on its way
home; and the shores of Norway itself were so harried by these
island Vikings that some time later King Harald Harfagri descended
and made a clean sweep of them in the interests of what he
probably considered society.
The two vessels floated close together, the oars were shipped, and
there, in the grey prosaic early morning light, they heaved gently
on the North Sea swell, and awaited the approach of the ten. A few
sea-birds circled and screamed above them; a faint pillar of smoke
rose from some homestead on a distant shore; elsewhere there was
no sign of life save in the ships to seaward.
Thorkel, leaning over the side of his vessel, told a tale of
buffetings by night and day such as Estein and his crew had
undergone. That morning he said they had descried Estein's ship
just as the day broke, and almost immediately afterwards ten long
ships were spied lying at anchor in an island bay. For a time they
hoped to slip by them unseen. The fates, however, were against
them. They were observed, and the strange Vikings awoke and gave
chase like a swarm of bees incautiously aroused.
Apparently the strangers considered themselves hardly yet prepared
for battle; for they slackened speed as they advanced, and those
on Estein's ships could see that a hasty bustle of preparation was
going on.
"What think you--friends or foes?" asked Helgi.
"To the Orkney Vikings all men are foes," replied Estein.
"Ay," said Thorkel with a laugh, "particularly when they are but
two to ten."
By this time the strangers were within hailing distance, and in
the leading ship a man in a red cloak came from the poop and stood
before the others in the bow. In a loud tone he bade his men cease
rowing, and then, clapping his hand to his mouth, asked in a voice
that had a ring of scornful command what name the captain bore.
"Estein, the son of Hakon, King of Sogn; and who are you who ask
my name?" came the reply across the water.
"Liot, the son of Skuli," answered the man in the red cloak. "With
me sails Osmund Hooknose, the son of Hallward. We have here ten
warships, as you see. Yield to us, Estein Hakonson, or we will
take by force what you will not give us."
The man threw his left hand on his hip, drew himself up, and said
something to his crew, accompanying the words by gestures with a
spear. They answered with a loud shout, and then struck up a wild
and monotonous chorus, the words of which were a refrain
descriptive of the usual fate of those who ventured to stand in
Liot Skulison's way. At the same time their oars churned the
water, and their vessel was brought into line with the others.
"It is easily seen that our friend Liot is a valiant man," said
Helgi with a short laugh. "He and his ill-looking crew make a
mighty noise. Has any man heard of Liot Skulison or Osmund
Hooknose before?"
"Ay," answered Ulf. "They call them the bairn-slayers, because
they show no mercy even to children."
"They will meet with other than bairns to-day," said Helgi.
Estein and Thorkel had been employed in binding the two vessels
together with grapnels. Then Estein turned to his men and said,--
"We are of one mind, are we not? We fight while we may, and then
let Odin do with us what he wills."
Without waiting for the shout of approval that followed his words,
he sprang to the bow, and raising his voice, cried,--
"We are ready for you, Liot and Osmund. When you get on board you
can take what you find here."
From another ship a man shouted,--
"Then you will fight, little Estein? Remember that we are called
the bairn-slayers."
Instantly Thorkel took up the challenge. Three beakers of ale had
made him in his happiest and most warlike mood, and his eyes
gleamed almost merrily as he answered,--
"I know you, Osmund the ugly, by that nose whereon men say you
hang the bairns you catch. Little need have you to do aught save
look at them. Here is a gift for you," and with that he hurled a
spear with so true an aim that, if Osmund had not stooped like a
flash, his share in the fight would have come to an end there and
then. As it was, the missile struck another man between the
shoulders and laid him on the deck.
"Forward! forward!" cried Liot. "Forward, Vikings! forward, the
men of Liot and Osmund!"
The oars struck the water, the wild chorus swelled into a terrible
and tuneless roar, and the ten ships bore down on the two. With a
crash the bows met, and metal rang on metal with the noise of a
hundred smithies; the unequal contest had begun.
Overpowering as such odds could hardly fail to prove in the long
run, they told more slowly in a sea-fight. Till the men who manned
the bulwarks were thinned, the sides were practically equal, and
at first many of the Orkney Vikings were perforce mere spectators.
Gradually, as the men in front were thinned, they poured in from
the other ships, fresh men always being pitted against tired, and
keen swords meeting hacked.
Liot laid his own ship alongside Estein's, Osmund attacked
Thorkel's, and the other vessels forced their bows forward
wherever they saw an opening. The Norwegians manned their bulwarks
shield to shield, and fought with the courage of despair. Twice
Liot, backed by his boldest men, tried by a headlong rush to force
himself on board, and twice he was beaten back. A third time he
charged, and selecting a place where the defenders seemed
thinnest, struck down a couple of men with two swinging blows of
his axe, and sprang on to the deck. Three or four men had already
followed him, a cry of victory rose from the Orkney Vikings, and
for a moment the fate of the battle seemed decided, when a huge
stone hurtled through the air, and falling on Liot's shield forced
it down on his helmet and him to his knees. It was the work of
Ulf, captain of the forecastle; and roaring like a bull, the old
Viking followed his stone. Estein sprang from the poop and clove
one man to the shoulders. Another fell to Ulf's sword. The
half-stunned Liot was seized by one of his followers, and bundled
back on board his ship; and for the time the day was saved.
"After them! after them, Ulf!" shouted Estein, and twenty bold
Norwegians followed their leader in the wake of Liot's retreating
boarding party. Their foes gave way right and left, the gangways
round the sides were cleared, and, despite the threats of Liot,
his men began to spring from forecastle and quarter-deck into the
ships behind.
"Forward, king's men! forward, men of Estein!" roared Ulf.
"Wait for me, Liot!" cried Estein, charging the poop with his red
shield before him. "A bairn is after thee!"
Helgi, who had kept at his shoulder throughout, seized his arm.
"They are giving way on Thorkel's ship. Osmund is on board. If we
return not, the ship is cleared."
With a gesture of despair Estein turned.
"Back, men, back! Thorkel needs all his friends, I fear," he
cried; and to Helgi he said, "The day is lost. We can but sell our
lives dearly now."
They came back too late. Already Thorkel's men were pouring on
board Estein's ship, with Osmund of the Hooknose at their heels.
Thorkel himself lay stark across the bulwarks, his face to his
foes, and a great spear-head standing out of his back.
It was now but a question of time. With a single ship, surrounded
on all sides, and weary with storm and battle, there could be only
one fate for Estein's diminished band. Nevertheless, they stood
their ground as stoutly and cheerfully as if the fray were just
beginning. Finding that all efforts to board were useless, the
Orkney Vikings confined themselves for some time to keeping up an
incessant fire of darts and stones. One by one the defenders
dropped at their posts, and at last, when widening gaps appeared
in the line of shields, Liot and Osmund boarded together, each
from his own side.
"Back to the poop, Helgi!" Estein cried. "To the poop, men! we
cannot hold the gangways. One tired man cannot fight with five
fresh."
Last of all his men, he stepped from the gangway that ran round
the low and open waist of the ship, up to the decked poop, his red
shield stuck with darts like a pincushion with pins.
In the forecastle, old Ulf still held his own, backed by some
half-dozen stout survivors out of all those who had gone into
battle with him in the morning.
"My hour is come at last, Thorolf," he said to the upland giant,
who seemed to be disengaging something from his coat of ring-mail.
"I shall have tales of a merry fight to tell to Odin tonight. But
before I fall I shall slay me one of those two Vikings. Wilt thou
follow me, Thorolf, to the gangways, and then to Valhalla?"
With a violent wrench the giant drew a spearhead from his side,
and his blood spurted over Ulf, as he swayed on his feet.
"I go before," he said, and fell on the deck with a clatter of
steel.
"There died a brave man! Now, comrades, after him to Odin!"
And with that the forecastle captain sprang down on the gangway,
and knocking men off into the waist in his impetuous rush, swung
his battle-axe round his head and aimed a terrific blow at Osmund
Hooknose. Quick as lightning Osmund raised his shield and thrust
at his foe with his sword. The point of the blade passed in at his
breast and out between his shoulders, and at the same instant the
battle-axe fell. The edge of the shield was cut through like
paper, and the blade coming fair on the nape of the Hooknose's
neck, the bodies of the two champions rolled together off the
gangway.
Round the poop the last struggle raged. Spent and wounded as they
were, Estein's little band showed a bold front to their foes, and
around the red shield of their leader their lives were dearly
sold.
Then for a few minutes came a lull in the fight, and men could
breathe for a space.
"The next onset will be the last," said Estein grimly.
"Their ships are sheering off!" exclaimed one.
"'Tis we who are leaving them," said another.
"Look ahead!" cried Helgi; "we shall cheat them yet."
The men looked round them with astonished faces, for a strange
thing had happened. They had drifted into one of the dreaded
Orkney tideways, and all the time the fight was raging they were
being borne at increasing speed past islands, holms, and skerries.
The scene had completely changed; they were in a narrower sound,
swinging like sea-fowl, helpless on the tide. Heather hills were
close at hand, and right ahead was a great frothing and bubbling,
out of which rose the black heads of sunken rocks.
The other vessels had been twisted off by the whirling eddies, and
were now rapidly scattering, each striving to clear the reef. Only
the four vessels bound together--Estein's, Thorkel's, Liot's,
Osmund's--swept in an unresisting cluster towards the rocks.
Liot too saw the danger, and raised his voice in a great shout:--
"Let not man of mine touch an oar till Estein Hakonson lie dead on
yonder deck. We have yet time to slay them. Forward, Liot's men!"
There was a wild and furious rush of men towards the poop. Down
went man after man of the battle-worn defenders. Liot and Estein
met sword to sword and face to face. The red shield was ripped
from top to bottom by a sweep of the bairn-slayer's blade, and at
the same moment Estein's descending sword was met by a Viking's
battle-axe, and snapped at the hilt.
"Now, Estein, I have thee!" shouted his foe; but ere the words
were well out of his mouth, Estein had hurled himself at his
waist, dagger in hand, and brought him headlong to the deck. As
they fell, the ships struck with a mighty crash that threw friend
and foe alike on the bloody planks. Two vessels stuck fast; the
other two broke loose, and plunging over the first line of reefs,
settled down by the bows.
There was a rush to the bulwarks, a splashing of bodies in the
water, and then the doomed and deserted ships, the attacker and
the attacked, sank in the turmoil of the tide. Estein himself had
been pitched clear of his foe into the waist, where he had fallen
head first and half-stunned.
He felt a friendly hand dragging him to the side, and heard
Helgi's voice saying,--
"Art thou able to swim for it?"
Then he had a confused recollection of being swept along by an
irresistible current, clinging the while to what he afterwards
found to be a friendly plank, and after that came oblivion.