HOW ASMUND THE PRIEST WAS BETROTHED TO UNNA
For a moment there was silence, for all that company was wonderstruck
at the greatness of the deed. Then they cheered and cheered again, and
to Eric it seemed that he slept, and the sound of shouting reached him
but faintly, as though he heard through snow. Suddenly he woke and saw
a man rush at him with axe aloft. It was Mord, Ospakar’s son, mad at
his father’s overthrow. Eric sprang aside, or the blow had been his
bane, and, as he sprang, smote with his fist, and it struck heavily on
the head of Mord above the ear, so that the axe flew from his hand, and
he fell senseless on his father in the snow.
Now swords flashed out, and men ringed round Eric to guard him, and it
came near to the spilling of blood, for the people of Ospakar gnashed
their teeth to see so great a hero overthrown by a youngling, while the
southern folk of Middalhof and Ran River rejoiced loudly, for Eric was
dear to their hearts.
“Down swords,” cried Asmund the priest, “and haul yon carcass from the
snow.”
This then they did, and Ospakar sat up, breathing in great gasps, the
blood running from his mouth and ears, and he was an evil sight to see,
for what with blood and snow and rage his face was like the face of the
Swinefell Goblin.
But Swanhild spoke in the ear of Gudruda:
“Here,” she said, looking at Eric, “we two have a man worth loving,
foster-sister.”
“Ay,” answered Gudruda, “worth and well worth!”
Now Asmund drew near and before all men kissed Eric Brighteyes on the
brow.
“In sooth,” he said, “thou art a mighty man, Eric, and the glory of the
south. This I prophesy of thee: that thou shalt do deeds such as have
not been done in Iceland. Thou hast ill been served, for a knave
unknown greased thy shoes. Yon swarthy Ospakar, the most mighty of all
men in Iceland, could not overthrow thee, though, like a wolf, he
fastened his fangs in thee, and, like a coward, stamped upon thy naked
foot. Take thou the great sword that thou hast won and wear it
worthily.”
Now Eric took snow and wiped the blood from his brow. Then he grasped
Whitefire and drew it from the scabbard, and high aloft flashed the
war-blade. Thrice he wheeled it round his head, then sang aloud:
“Fast, yestermorn, down Golden Falls,
Fared young Eric to thy feast,
Asmund, father of Gudruda—
Maid whom much he longs to clasp.
But to-day on Giant Blacktooth
Hath he done a needful deed:
Hurling him in heaped-up snowdrift;
Winning Whitefire for his wage.”
And again he sang:
“Lord, if in very truth thou thinkest
Brighteyes is a man midst men,
Swear to him, the stalwart suitor,
Handsel of thy sweet maid’s hand:
Whom, long loved, to win, down Goldfoss
Swift he sped through frost and foam;
Whom, to win, to troll-like Ogre,
He, ‘gainst Whitefire, waged his eye.”
Men thought this well sung, and turned to hear Asmund’s answer, nor
must they wait long.
“Eric,” he said, “I will promise thee this, that if thou goest on as
thou hast begun, I will give Gudruda in marriage to no other man.”
“That is good tidings, lord,” said Eric.
“This I say further: in a year I will give thee full answer according
as to how thou dost bear thyself between now and then, for this is no
light gift thou askest; also that, if ye will it, you twain may now
plight troth, for the blame shall be yours if it is broken, and not
mine, and I give thee my hand on it.”
Eric took his hand, and Gudruda heard her father’s words and happiness
shone in her dark eyes, and she grew faint for very joy. And now Eric
turned to her, all torn and bloody from the fray, the great sword in
his hand, and he spoke thus:
“Thou hast heard thy father’s words, Gudruda? Now it seems that there
is no great need of troth-plighting between us two. Still, here before
all men I ask thee, if thou dost love me and art willing to take me to
husband?”
Gudruda looked up into his face, and answered in a sweet, clear voice
that could be heard by all:
“Eric, I say to thee now, what I have said before, that I love thee
alone of all men, and, if it be my father’s wish, I will wed no other
whilst thou dost remain true to me and hold me dear.”
“Those are good words,” said Eric. “Now, in pledge of them, swear this
troth of thine upon my sword that I have won.”
Gudruda smiled, and, taking great Whitefire in her hand, she said the
words again, and, in pledge of them, kissed the bright blade.
Then Eric took back the war-sword and spoke thus: “I swear that I will
love thee, and thee only, Gudruda the Fair, Asmund’s daughter, whom I
have desired all my days; and, if I fail of this my oath, then our
troth is at an end, and thou mayst wed whom thou wilt,” and in turn he
put his lips upon the sword, while Swanhild watched them do the oath.
Now Ospakar was recovered from the fight, and he sat there upon the
snow, with bowed head, for he knew well that he had won the greatest
shame, and had lost both wife and sword. Black rage filled his heart as
he listened, and he sprang to his feet.
“I came hither, Asmund,” he said, “to ask this maid of thine in
marriage, and methinks that had been a good match for her and thee. But
I have been overthrown by witchcraft of this man in a wrestling-bout,
and thereby lost my good sword; and now I must seem to hear him
betrothed to the maid before me.”
“Thou hast heard aright, Ospakar,” said Asmund, “and thy wooing is soon
sped. Get thee back whence thou camest and seek a wife in thine own
quarter, for thou art unfit in age and aspect to have so sweet a maid.
Moreover, here in the south we hold men of small account, however great
and rich they be, who do not shame to seek to overcome a foe by foul
means. With my own eyes I saw thee stamp on the naked foot of Eric,
Thorgrimur’s son; with my own eyes I saw thee, like a wolf, fasten that
black fang of thine upon him—there is the mark of it; and, as for the
matter of the greased shoes, thou knowest best what hand thou hadst in
it.”
“I had no hand. If any did this thing, it was Groa the Witch, thy
Finnish bedmate. For the rest, I was mad and know not what I did. But
hearken, Asmund: ill shall befall thee and thy house, and I will ever
be thy foe. Moreover, I will yet wed this maid of thine. And now, thou
Eric, hearken also: I will have another game with thee. This one was
but the sport of boys; when we meet again—and the time shall not be
long—swords shall be aloft, and thou shalt learn the play of men. I
tell thee that I will slay thee, and tear Gudruda, shrieking, from thy
arms to be my wife! I tell thee that, with yonder good sword Whitefire,
I will yet hew off thy head!”—and he choked and stopped.
“Thou art much foam and little water,” said Eric. “These things are
easily put to proof. If thou willest it, to-morrow I will come with
thee to a holmgang, and there we may set the twigs and finish what we
have begun to-day.”
“I cannot do that, for thou hast my sword; and, till I am suited with
another weapon, I may fight no holmgang. Still, fear not: we shall soon
meet with weapons aloft and byrnie on breast.”
“Never too soon can the hour come, Blacktooth,” said Eric, and turning
on his heel, he limped to the hall to clothe himself afresh. On the
threshold of the men’s door he met Groa the Witch.
“Thou didst put grease upon my shoes, carline and witch-hag that thou
art,” he said.
“It is not true, Brighteyes.”
“There thou liest, and for all this I will repay thee. Thou art not yet
the wife of Asmund, nor shalt be, for a plan comes into my head about
it.”
Groa looked at him strangely. “If thou speakest so, take heed to thy
meat and drink,” she said. “I was not born among the Finns for nothing;
and know, I am still minded to wed Asmund. For thy shoes, I would to
the Gods that they were Hell-shoon, and that I was now binding them on
thy dead feet.”
“Oh! the cat begins to spit,” said Eric. “But know this: thou mayest
grease my shoes—fit work for a carline!—but thou mayest never bind them
on. Thou art a witch, and wilt come to the end of witches; and what thy
daughter is, that I will not say,” and he pushed past her and entered
the hall.
Presently Asmund came to seek Eric there, and prayed him to be gone to
his stead on Ran River. The horses of Ospakar had strayed, and he must
stop at Middalhof till they were found; but, if these two should abide
under the same roof, bloodshed would come of it, and that Asmund knew.
Eric said yea to this, and, when he had rested a while, he kissed
Gudruda, and, taking a horse, rode away to Coldback, bearing the sword
Whitefire with him, and for a time he saw no more of Ospakar.
When he came there, his mother Saevuna greeted him as one risen from
the dead, and hung about his neck. Then he told her all that had come
to pass, and she thought it a marvellous story, and sorrowed that
Thorgrimur, her husband, was not alive to know it. But Eric mused a
while, and spoke.
“Mother,” he said, “now my uncle Thorod of Greenfell is dead, and his
daughter, my cousin Unna, has no home. She is a fair woman and skilled
in all things. It comes into my mind that we should bid her here to
dwell with us.”
“Why, I thought thou wast betrothed to Gudruda the Fair,” said Saevuna.
“Wherefore, then, wouldst thou bring Unna hither?”
“For this cause,” said Eric; “because it seems that Asmund the Priest
wearies of Groa the Witch, and would take another wife, and I wish to
draw the bands between us tighter, if it may befall so.”
“Groa will take it ill,” said Saevuna.
“Things cannot be worse between us than they are now, therefore I do
not fear Groa,” he answered.
“It shall be as thou wilt, son; to-morrow we will send to Unna and bid
her here, if it pleases her to come.”
Now Ospakar stayed three more days at Middalhof, till his horses were
found, and he was fit to travel, for Eric had shaken him sorely. But he
had no words with Gudruda and few with Asmund. Still, he saw Swanhild,
and she bid him to be of good cheer, for he should yet have Gudruda.
For now that the maid had passed from him the mind of Ospakar was set
in winning her. Björn also, Asmund’s son, spoke words of good comfort
to him, for he envied Eric his great fame, and he thought the match
with Blacktooth would be good. And so at length Ospakar rode away to
Swinefell with all his company; but Gizur, his son, left his heart
behind.
For Swanhild had not been idle this while. Her heart was sore, but she
must follow her ill-nature, and so she had put out her woman’s strength
and beguiled Gizur into loving her. But she did not love him at all,
and the temper of Asmund the Priest was so angry that Gizur dared not
ask her in marriage. So nothing was said of the matter.
Now Unna came to Coldback, to dwell with Saevuna, Eric’s mother, and
she was a fair and buxom woman. She had been once wedded, but within a
month of her marriage her husband was lost at sea, this two years gone.
At first Gudruda was somewhat jealous of this coming of Unna to
Coldback; but Eric showed her what was in his mind, and she fell into
the plan, for she hated and feared Groa greatly, and desired to be rid
of her.
Since this matter of the greasing of Eric’s wrestling-shoes great
loathing of Groa had come into Asmund’s mind, and he bethought him
often of those words that his wife Gudruda the Gentle spoke as she lay
dying, and grieved that the oath which he swore then had in part been
broken. He would have no more to do with Groa now, but he could not be
rid of her; and, notwithstanding her evil doings, he still loved
Swanhild. But Groa grew thin with spite and rage, and wandered about
the place glaring with her great black eyes, and people hated her more
and more.
Now Asmund went to visit at Coldback, and there he saw Unna, and was
pleased with her, for she was a blithe woman and a bonny. The end of it
was that he asked her in marriage of Eric; at which Brighteyes was
glad, but said that he must know Unna’s mind. Unna hearkened, and did
not say no, for though Asmund was somewhat gone in years, still he was
an upstanding man, wealthy in lands, goods, and moneys out at interest,
and having many friends. So they plighted troth, and the wedding-feast
was to be in the autumn after hay-harvest. Now Asmund rode back to
Middalhof somewhat troubled at heart, for these tidings must be told to
Groa, and he feared her and her witchcraft. In the hall he found her,
standing alone.
“Where hast thou been, lord?” she asked.
“At Coldback,” he answered.
“To see Unna, Eric’s cousin, perchance?”
“That is so.”
“What is Unna to thee, then, lord?”
“This much, that after hay-harvest she will be my wife, and that is ill
news for thee, Groa.”
Now Groa turned and grasped fiercely at the air with her thin hands.
Her eyes started out, foam was on her lips, and she shook in her fury
like a birch-tree in the wind, looking so evil that Asmund drew back a
little way, saying:
“Now a veil is lifted from thee and I see thee as thou art. Thou hast
cast a glamour over me these many years, Groa, and it is gone.”
“Mayhap, Asmund Asmundson—mayhap, thou knowest me; but I tell thee that
thou shalt see me in a worse guise before thou weddest Unna. What! have
I borne the greatest shame, lying by thy side these many years, and
shall I live to see a rival, young and fair, creep into my place with
honour? That I will not while runes have power and spells can conjure
the evil thing upon thee. I call down ruin on thee and thine—yea and on
Brighteyes also, for he has brought this thing to pass. Death take ye
all! May thy blood no longer run in mortal veins anywhere on the earth!
Go down to Hela, Asmund, and be forgotten!” and she began to mutter
runes swiftly.
Now Asmund turned white with wrath. “Cease thy evil talk,” he said, “or
thou shalt be hurled as a witch into Goldfoss pool.”
“Into Goldfoss pool?—yea, there I may lie. I see it!—I seem to see this
shape of mine rolling where the waters boil fiercest—but thine eyes
shall never see it! _Thy_ eyes are shut, and shut are the eyes of Unna,
for ye have gone before!—I do but follow after,” and thrice Groa
shrieked aloud, throwing up her arms, then fell foaming on the sanded
floor.
“An evil woman and a fey!” said Asmund as he called people to her. “It
had been better for me if I had never seen her dark face.”
Now it is to be told that Groa lay beside herself for ten full days,
and Swanhild nursed her. Then she found her sense again, and craved to
see Asmund, and spoke thus to him:
“It seems to me, lord, if indeed it be aught but a vision of my dreams,
that before this sickness struck me I spoke mad and angry words against
thee, because thou hast plighted troth to Unna, Thorod’s daughter.”
“That is so, in truth,” said Asmund.
“I have to say this, then, lord: that most humbly I crave thy pardon
for my ill words, and ask thee to put them away from thy mind. Sore
heart makes sour speech, and thou knowest well that, howsoever great my
faults, at least I have always loved thee and laboured for thee, and
methinks that in some fashion thy fortunes are the debtor to my wisdom.
Therefore when my ears heard that thou hadst of a truth put me away,
and that another woman comes an honoured wife to rule in Middalhof, my
tongue forgot its courtesy, and I spoke words that are of all words the
farthest from my mind. For I know well that I grow old, and have put
off that beauty with which I was adorned of yore, and that held thee to
me. ‘_Carline_’ Eric Brighteyes named me, and ‘carline’ I am—an old
hag, no more! Now, forgive me, and, in memory of all that has been
between us, let me creep to my place in the ingle and still watch and
serve thee and thine till my service is outworn. Out of Ran’s net I
came to thee, and, if thou drivest me hence, I tell thee that I will
lie down and die upon thy threshold, and when thou sinkest into eld
surely the memory of it shall grieve thee.”
Thus she spoke and wept much, till Asmund’s heart softened in him, and,
though with a doubting mind, he said it should be as she willed.
So Groa stayed on at Middalhof, and was lowly in her bearing and soft
of speech.