THE LAST OF THE LAWMAN.
In silence and haste the three men pursued their way. A thaw had
set in, chill and cloudy; underfoot the snow was soft and melting,
and all through the forest they heard the drip of a thousand trees
and the creaking and swinging of boughs in the wind. As the
morning wore on and they warmed to their work, the two Norsemen
talked a little with each other, but contrary to their wont of
late, it was Estein who spoke oftenest and seemed in the better
spirits. Helgi, for him, was quiet and thoughtful, and at last
Estein exclaimed,--
"How run your thoughts, Helgi? on the next feast, or the last
maid, or the man you left bound to the tree? Men will think we
have changed natures if our talk goes as it has this morning."
"I had a strange dream last night," replied Helgi.
"Tell it to me, and I will expound it to a flagon or an eyelash,
as the theme may chance to be."
"Nay," cried Helgi, with a sudden return to his usual buoyancy,
"now that I have my old Estein back with me, I will not turn him
again into a reader of dreams and omens. I am rejoiced to see you
in so bright a humour. Had you a pleasant dream?"
"Action lies before me," said Estein--"the open sea and the lands
of the south again; and the very prospect is medicine."
After a time Estein came up to their guide's side, and said,--
"It will take us surely longer than you said. We had to travel for
long through open country when we left the town, and we have never
reached the beginning of it yet."
Jomar gave a quick, contemptuous laugh, and answered shortly,--
"Think you then that Thorar brought you by the shortest route?
Those prisoners whom you set free reached King Bue's hall many
hours before you. You are not wise, you Northmen."
Estein looked for a moment as though he would have retorted
sharply, but biting his lip he fell back again, nor did he
exchange another word with the man.
It was about mid-day, when, as they were coming down a wooded
slope, Helgi exclaimed,--
"Hark! what is that clamour?"
Jomar too heard the shouts, for he stopped for a moment and
listened keenly, and then started off faster than before. With
every step they took the distant sounds grew louder and the shouts
of men, and even it seemed the clash of steel, could be
distinguished.
"The attack is made," cried Helgi. "Pray the gods they scatter not
the dogs before we come up."
Jomar heard him, and looked over his shoulder with a savage
glance.
"Sometimes dogs bite and rend," he said.
"Why have they waited so long?" said Estein, half to himself. "The
fools should have fallen on Ketill that very night. I thank them
for their folly."
They had now broken into a run, and the uproar sounded so loud
that they knew they must be close upon the town.
"Some one comes," exclaimed Helgi, and just as he spoke a man
dashed past them in the opposite direction, and throwing them only
a startled glance, disappeared among the trees behind. A minute
later two others ran by to one side, and a fourth stopped and
turned when he came upon them. All were Jemtlanders, and Jomar,
when he saw them, cursed aloud, while the Norsemen pressed the
more excitedly forward.
Thirty yards further and they were at the edge of the wood,
stopping at a spot not far from where the expedition first came
out upon the town. The great lake and the open country lay below
them, white still, but with all the sheen and sparkle off them,
and overhung now by a grey, wet-weather sky. But they took little
note of sky or snow-fields, for their eyes were enthralled by a
more stirring spectacle.
Over the little town rolled a dense and smoky canopy, and from
each doomed house the flames leapt and danced. All around it the
plain was alive with the signs and terrors of war they saw, black
against the snow, men flying over the open country, turning
sometimes for the woods, or sometimes sliding and running across
the frozen lake, the shouts of the pursuers came to them in a
confusion of uproar, and here and there out over the waste, and
more thickly near the town, the dead lay scattered. The battle was
at an end. Small parties of Norsemen were still driving the
vanquished Jemtlanders before them cutting them down as they fled;
but the main force seemed already to be devoting itself to the
burning and sacking of the town, and Helgi sighed as he
exclaimed,--
"Too late after all! the cowardly rabble could not even fight till
we had come to join in the sport."
Like an infuriated animal Jomar turned upon him.
"Whelp of a Norseman!" he cried, drawing his dagger and springing
forward, "never more--"
As he spoke, Estein, who stood between them, had just time to
throw out one foot and bring the Jemtlander flat on his face, his
dagger flying from his hand. After looking for a moment in
astonishment at their fallen guide, his would-be victim burst out
laughing, and picking up the dagger, handed it back to him,
saying,--
"I forgot, friend Jomar, that you were so nigh me. You owed me
something, indeed, but try not to pay it like that again, for your
own sake."
The man took the dagger sullenly and answered,--
"I hope never more to see either of you. Go down to the town now,
if you can reach it without losing your way again, and my curse go
with you."
Without waiting for reply or reward, he left them abruptly, and
disappeared in the wood. "That is a man I am glad to see the last
of," said Helgi, as they started for the town. "It can only be by
black magic that Atli made him serve us."
"It is strange indeed," replied Estein, thoughtfully. "I have
noted before that a powerful mind has a strong influence on men of
less wisdom, yet like enough there is something more besides."
When they had come near enough to be recognized, a loud and joyful
shout went up from their men; one after another of the victors ran
out to meet them, and it was with quite a company at their back
that they entered the burning town. In the open market-place,
round which most of the houses stood, they found Ketill, his
armour dinted and smeared with blood, and his eyes gleaming with
stern excitement. At last he had got his burning, and he was
enjoying it to the full. A batch of captives had just been
pitilessly decapitated, their gory heads and trunks were strewn on
the crimson snow, and beside them lay five or six more, their legs
bound by ropes, awaiting their turn.
Inured though he was to spectacles of blood and carnage, Estein's
mind recoiled from such a scene of butchery as this, and he
replied to Ketill's shout of astonishment and welcome,--
"Right glad I am to see this victory, Ketill, and gallantly you
must have fought, but when has it become our custom to slay our
prisoners?"
"Ay," answered Helgi, "we could well have missed this part."
"Know you not that the Jemtlanders slew the twenty who followed
you to King Bue?" answered the black-bearded captain. "They slew
them like cattle, Estein; and shall we spare the murderers now? I
knew not also whether you and Helgi had fallen into their hands,
and in case ill had happened to you, it seemed best to take
vengeance on the chance."
"Then since I need no revenge, let the slaying cease," said
Estein, "though in truth the treacherous dogs ill deserve mercy."
"As you list," replied Ketill; "yet there is one here who would be
better out of the world than in it."
As he spoke he went up to one prisoner who was lying on his side,
with his face pressed down into the snow, like one sorely wounded,
and in no gentle fashion turned him over with his foot.
"Can you not let me die?" said the man, looking up coldly and
proudly at his captors, though he was evidently at death's door.
"It will not take long now."
"Thorar!" exclaimed Estein.
"You have named me, Estein," replied the wounded lawman. "I had
hoped to witness thy death, now thou canst witness mine."
"Treacherous foe and faithless friend," said Estein, sternly,
"well have you deserved this death."
"Faithless to whom?" replied Thorar. "To my king and master Bue I
alone owed allegiance. Long have I planned how to rid us of your
proud and cruel race, and I thought the time had come. Witless and
confident ye walked into my snare, like men blindfolded; and it
was the doing of the gods, and not of you, that my plan
miscarried."
"'Witless and confident?'" answered Estein. "Say rather trustful
of pledges that only a dastard would break."
"The strong and foolish fight with weapons suited to their hands,"
said Thorar; "the weak and wise with weapons suited to their
heads."
"So hands, it seems, are better than heads," put in Helgi.
"Know this at least," exclaimed Ketill, "your sons have perished
before you. I slew them in the outset of the battle."
The dying man laughed a ghastly laugh.
"My sons!" he cried. "Think you I would trust my sons with
Norsemen? Those boys were thralls. They died for their country as
I die," and his head fell back upon the snow.
"Dastard!" cried Ketill, "you die indeed."
He raised his sword as he spoke; but Estein caught his arm before
it could descend, saying,--
"You cannot slay the dead, Ketill."
"Has he baulked me then?" said Ketill, bending over his fallen
foe.
It was even so. The lawman had gone to his last account, his bolt
impotently shot, and his enemies standing triumphantly over him.
"He at least died well," said Helgi; "when my turn comes may it be
my luck to look as proudly on my foes. But tell us, Ketill, what
befell you here since our parting."
The burly captain frowned and scratched his head, as though
deliberating how to do a thing so foreign to his genius as the
telling of a narrative.
"On a certain day you left us," he began.
"Well told indeed," cried Helgi, laughing, "an excellent
beginning--no skald could do it better."
"Nay," replied Ketill, frowning angrily, "if you want matter for a
jest, tell a tale yourself. Mine have been no boy's deeds."
"Take no offence," replied Helgi, still laughing; "tell your deeds
of derring-do, and let Thor himself envy, I will undertake to make
you laugh at mine own adventures afterwards."
"I will warrant your doings will make me laugh rather than envy,"
said Ketill. "But, as I said, you left us, and so we were left
here without you."
"Nay, Ketill," interposed his tormentor, very seriously, "this
story passes belief, impose not on my youth."
"How mean you?" exclaimed the black-bearded captain, wrathfully,
his hand seeking his sword hilt.
"Peace, Helgi," cried Estein, who saw that his good offices were
needed; "and you, Ketill, heed not his jests. He is but young and
foolish."
"And slender," added the irrepressible Helgi, though not loud
enough for Ketill to hear, and the stout Viking resumed his story,
sulkily enough.
"So were we left here in this town. Cold it was, with little to
do, so we even broached Thorar's ale forthwith. Presently a man
who had been in the woods came in hastily to tell me he had
disturbed two of these hounds of Jemtlanders spying on the town.
It behoved me then to be careful, and I set guards, and was not
too drunk myself that night. Upon the next morning one came in
with tidings of a man who had left a message for me, though he
would not say who sent him."
"That would be friend Jomar," said Helgi.
"I know not his name, but treachery, he said, was determined; and
I stopped all drink thereafter, and there was nothing at all left
then but to play with dice and sleep. A little later this Thorar
came to the town, and would have persuaded me to follow you to the
king; and when I asked for some token he showed me a ring he said
was yours. Mine own mind is not attentive to these gew-gaws, but a
man whose eyes were sharp before a Jemtland axe clove his head
this morning knew it for none of yours."
"Did you not seize him at once?" said Estein.
"I was for taking him on the spot, but we spoke without the town,
and he had such a company along with him that after a sharp bout
he got off, though he left three of his lads on the snow.
"May werewolves seize me if this be not dry work! Ho' there,
bring me a horn of ale."
As soon as he had quenched his thirst in a long draught, and wiped
his hairy lips with much relish, the narrator went on:--
"So at night, as you may think, we kept a strict and sober guard,
and rested in our harness. And well it was; for I had not slept an
hour, it seemed, before the cry arose that the enemy were upon us.
But when they saw we were ready for them, the vermin withdrew to
the woods to gather more force, and it was not till day had well
broken that they ventured out and offered battle. Thereupon I slew
the hostages, set fire to the town, and fell upon them
straightway, and a braver fire and a brisker fight while it lasted
I wish not to see. They were seven to one, at the least, but never
an inch of ground did we give, and never a stroke did we spare.
Methinks," he concluded with a chuckle, "they will remember their
welcome."