THE END OF THE STORY.
"A boon! a boon!" exclaimed Helgi. "Kari seeks a boon. A wife, or
a farm, or a pair of pigskin trousers; which is it, Kari? Before
you win it you must sing us a stave. Strike up, man!"
"No boon I seek," replied Kari. "A maiden stands without who seeks
King Estein, and will not come inside."
"Aha!" laughed Helgi. "Blows the wind that way?"
"What does she want?" asked Estein.
"I know not; she would not tell."
"Tell her to come in," said Earl Sigvald. "Do you think it is
fitting that the king should go out at every woman's pleasure?"
"That is what I told her, but she said she would see the king
outside or go away."
"Bid her come in or go away!" cried the earl.
"Nay, rather ask her what her errand is about," said Estein.
"And tell her," added Helgi as the bird-man turned away, "that
here sits the king's foster-brother, a most proper person at all
times to hear a maiden's tale, and now most persuasively charged
with ale."
The man went down the hall again, and Earl Sigvald exclaimed
testily,--
"Some thrall's sweetheart doubtless, come to babble her
complaints."
"Or perhaps the bride come to claim King Estein's hand," suggested
his son. In a minute Kari returned.
"She will not tell her business," he said, "but begs earnestly to
see the king."
"Bid her begone!" cried the earl. "The king is feasting with his
guests."
"Did not her eyes sparkle and her trouble seem to leave her when
she heard the king's foster-brother was here?" asked Helgi.
"I shall press his claims myself," said Estein, rising from his
seat.
"Will you see her then?" asked the earl.
"Why not?" replied Estein. "Perchance she brings tidings of
importance."
"If you rise at every strange woman's bidding you will have many
suitors," said the earl.
"That is the lot of a king," replied Estein, with a smile.
The smile died quickly from his face as he walked down the hall,
and men noticed that he looked grave and preoccupied again. It was
not that his thoughts were running on this unusual summons; as he
passed through the dark vestibule he felt only a little curiosity,
and at the door he paused and looked out idly enough.
It was a fine starlight night, and down below he could see the
glimmer of the sea, and across the fiord the black outline of the
hills, and nearer at hand he heard the sough of the night breeze
in the pines. Close outside, the tall, hooded figure of a woman
stood clearly outlined, while he himself was obscured in shadow.
At the second glance, something in the pose of his strange visitor
struck his memory sharply. She seemed at first afraid to speak,
and, with rising interest, he said courteously,--
"You wish to see me?"
The girl seemed to start a little, and then she said in a low
voice,--
"Are you King Estein?"
The words were almost lost in the hood that shrouded her head.
They died away to a low whisper; but ere they were gone Estein had
caught the slight flavour of a foreign accent, and for an instant
he was on the Holy Isle again. With a sharp effort he controlled
the sudden rush of emotion they called up, and even altered his
voice to a low, guarded pitch as he answered,--
"I am the king." The girl paused for a moment as if to collect her
thoughts, and then she said,--
"You had a brother, King Estein--Olaf Hakonson--"
She stopped again, and seemed to look hesitatingly at him.
"What of him?" said Estein.
"He fell, alas, long since. Forgive me for calling him to mind
now, but he is in my story."
"Well?"
"Three men were at his death," said the girl, gaining confidence a
little. "Thord the Tall, Snaekol Gunnarson, and Thorfin of
Skapstead. Snaekol and Thorfin are dead long since--may God
forgive them! but Thord the Tall lived to repent of the burning."
"It was an ill deed," said Estein.
"He was a heathen man then, King Estein--but I forget, you know
not of Christians."
"I have heard of them," said Estein, half to himself.
"As the years drew on he became a Christian, and followed another
God and another creed, and left the world and Viking forays, and
came to a little island of the Orkneys with me, his only child.
For both my brothers fell in battle, King Estein, and now there
are none others left in the feud."
"How do men call you?" said Estein, asking only that he might hear
her name again.
"I am Osla, the daughter of Thord the Tall," she answered, drawing
herself up with a touch of half defiant pride. "He was the enemy
of your family, but a lender-man [Footnote: Nobleman.] of high
birth, and a good and noble man."
"Ay?"
"He lived in the island," she went on, "for many years, all alone
save for me."
Estein could not keep himself from asking,--
"Alone all the time?"
"All--save once indeed, when a Viking came by chance, but he left
shortly," and then she continued hastily: "My father thought often
of the burning. Many deeds he had done which he repented of there
in the solitude of the Holy Isle. Yet was he not worse than
others, only he became a Christian, and so they seemed ill deeds
to him."
"Even this burning?" said Estein, a little dryly.
"Think not so harshly of him!" she cried. "He was--he was my
father!"
"I ask your pardon, Mistress Osla. Go on."
"At length he fell sick, and in the last of the winter storms he
died."
So far Estein had been listening most curiously, wondering much
what the upshot of it all would be, and keeping a severe restraint
on his tongue. But at Osla's last words he had nearly betrayed
himself. He was on the verge of crying out in his natural voice,
and when he did speak, it was like a man who is choking over
something.
"Then Thord the Tall is dead?"
"He died penitent, King Estein," said Osla. "And he left me a
writing--for he had taught me the art of reading on the island--and
with it much silver, or at least it seemed much to me. The
writing bade me seek King Hakon."
"Knew he not then of my father's death?"
"He was then alive," she answered; "for the writing further told
me what I knew not before, that I had an uncle still alive, or
rather whom my father thought was still alive, and first of all I
had to seek him. Else should I have come to Sogn in time to see
King Hakon."
"What is this uncle's name?"
"He is called Atli, now," she replied, "but--"
"Atli, a brother of Thord the Tall!"
"Know you him?"
"I have seen him," he answered evasively. "Once he came here. But
how did you find him? He dwells in distant parts, so men say."
"The writing gave me the direction of one who knew where he could
be found, and so I travelled to a far country--Jemtland it is,
many days from Sogn. Thus it was that when I came here King Hakon
had died."
"And now you seek me?"
"You are his son, and my errand deals with you, for the feuds
which were his are now yours," she answered.
For a moment she paused, and seemed to Estein to look doubtfully
at him, as if half afraid to go on. Then she drew a bag from under
her cloak, held it out to him, and said simply, but not as one who
craved a boon or sought a favour,--
"This silver is the price of atonement for the death of Olaf--will
you take it?"
He took the bag, weighed it in his hand, and answered slowly,--
"This is a small atonement for a brother's death."
She gave a little start back, her pride stung to the quick, and he
heard her breath come fast.
Suddenly he dropped the bag, stepped from under the shadow of the
door, and cried in his natural voice,--
"I must have you too, Osla!"
She started this time indeed, and for an instant the shock of
surprise took thoughts and words away.
"Vandrad!" she cried faintly, and then she was trembling in King
Estein's arms.
"Nay," he said, "no longer Vandrad, but rather Estein the Lucky!
Forgive me, Osla, for deceiving you before; but then, in truth,
fate had treated me so ill that I cared not to have it known that
I was son to the King of Sogn."
A little later he said,--
"So the feud is at an end, and I have found a queen."
"A queen, Estein?" she whispered.
"Ay, a queen, worthy of the proudest King of Sogn. And, Osla, do
you know I have seen you since we parted on the Holy Isle? Can you
call to mind a Jemtland village where you halted on your journey,
and a man whom the villagers pursued?"
"And that--" she cried in astonishment.
"Was Vandrad; and Atli--"
"Is Kolskegg, foster-father of thy brother Olaf," said a voice
behind them, and looking quickly round the lovers saw the
venerable form of the seer standing within five paces of them.
For a moment they were too surprised to speak, and the old man
went on with kindling enthusiasm,--
"Ay, Osla, I followed thee up from the ship, and awaited under the
shadow of Hakonstad itself the issue ordained by the gods. King
Estein, when thou wert with me I knew not who were the wizard and
the witch of the Orkneys. My dreams revealed them not. When Osla
came to me that night ye slept in the loft, I hid her coming from
thee, for I knew the race of Yngve forget not the injuries of
their kin. Nor when I knew all did I tell anything to Osla, for I
wished the fates to bring matters to an end as they willed."
"But why did you tell me nothing of yourself?" asked Estein.
"I have said the reason. Thy race have long and bitter memories,
and I knew full well that I could not serve thee hadst thou known.
Ay, King Estein, long have I wished to come into atonement with
thee, but my brother's rash deed--done to avenge what he thought
my injuries--brought the blood feud on me. I was banished for mine
own fault, thenceforth Thord exiled me for his."
Then raising his voice till it rang through the night, he cried,--
"But now, King Estein, the ship has crossed the seas!"
There was a minute's silence after he had finished, and then the
king took Osla by the hand and drew her towards the door, saying,--
"I wish them to see my queen to-night."
"Let me come to-morrow," she whispered.
"Go in, Osla," said her uncle, "I bid thee," and so she went in
with Estein to the hall.
As he led her up to the high seat, dead silence fell on the
guests, and all men gazed in growing wonder. Opposite Earl Sigvald
he stopped, and throwing back her hood, cried,--
"You will live to see me married yet, jarl. My southern voyage
shall be changed into my wedding feast. Behold Osla, Queen of
Sogn!"
Before his father had time to reply, Helgi sprang from his seat
with a shout, and saluting Osla on the cheek, exclaimed,--
"First of all King Estein's friends I wish you joy! Do you
remember the sheep-skin coat? I have not forgotten the maiden.
Skoal to Queen Osla!"
Instantly the shout was taken up till the smoky rafters rang and
rang again; and so the feud ended, though the spell, they say, was
never broken.
THE END.
End of Project Gutenberg's Vandrad the Viking, by J. Storer Clouston