LEIF THE CROSS-BEARER
Inquire and impart
Should every man of sense,
Who will be accounted sage.
Let one only know,--
A second may not;
If three, all the world knows.
Ha'vama'l
It was early the next morning, so early that the world was only here and
there awake. The town was silent; the fields were empty; the woods
around the camp slept in darkness and silence. Only the little valley
lay fresh and smiling in the new light, winking back at the sun from a
million dewy eyes.
Under the trees the long white-scoured tables stood ready with bowl and
trencher, and Alwin carried food to and fro with leisurely steps. From
Helga's booth her voice arose in a weird battle-chant; while from the
river bank came the voices and laughter and loud splashing of many
bathers.
Gradually the shouts merged into a persistent roar. The roar swelled
into a thunder of excitement. Alwin paused, in the act of ladling curds
into the line of wooden bowls, and listened smiling.
"Now they are swimming a race back to the bank. I wonder whom they will
drive out of the water today." For that was the established penalty for
being last in the race.
The thunder of cheering reached its height; then suddenly it split into
scattered jeers and hootings. There was a crackling of dead leaves, a
rustling of bushes, and Sigurd appeared, dripping and breathless.
Panting and spent, he threw himself on the ground, his shining white
body making a cameo against the mossy green.
"You! You beaten!" Alwin cried in surprise.
Sigurd gave a breathless laugh. "Even I myself. Certainly it is a time
of wonders!" He looked eagerly at the spread table, and held up his
hand. "And I am starving besides! Toss me something, I beg of you." When
Alwin had thrown him a chunk of crusty bread, he consented to go on and
explain his defeat between mouthfuls. "It was because my shoulder is
still heavy in its movements. I broke it wrestling last winter. I forgot
about it when I entered the race."
"That is a pity," said Alwin. But he spoke absently, for he was thinking
that here might be an opening for something he wished to say. He filled
several bowls in silence, Sigurd watching over his bread with twinkling
eyes. After a while Alwin went on cautiously: "This mishap is a light
one, however. I hope it is not likely that you will have to endure a
heavier disappointment when Leif arrives today."
Back went Sigurd's yellow head in a peal of laughter. "I would have
wagered it!" he shouted. "I would have wagered my horse that you were
aiming at that! So every speech ends, no matter where it begins. I talk
with Helga of what we did as children and she answers: 'You remember
much, foster-brother; do not forget the sternness of Leif's temper.' I
enter into conversation with Rolf, and he returns, 'Yes, it is likely
that Leif has got greater favor than ever with King Olaf. I cannot be
altogether certain that he will shelter one who has broken Olaf's laws.'
Tyrker advises me,--by Saint Michael, you are all as wise as Mimir!" He
flung the crust from him with a gesture of good-humored impatience. "Do
you all think I am a fool, that I do not know what I am doing? It
appears that you forget that Leif Ericsson is my foster-father."
Alwin deposited the last curd in the last bowl, and stood licking the
horn-spoon, and looking doubtfully at the other. "Do you mean by that
that you have a right to give him orders? I have heard that in the North
a foster-son does not treat his foster-father as his superior, but as
his servant. Yet Leif did not look to be--"
Sigurd shouted with laughter. "He did not! I will wager my head he did
not! Certainly the foster-son who would show disrespect to Leif the
Lucky would be putting his life in a bear's paw. It makes no difference
that it is customary for many silly old men of lower birth to allow
themselves to be trampled upon by fiery young men of higher rank, like
old wolves nipped by young ones. King Olaf's heir dare not do so to Leif
Ericsson. No; what I would have you understand is that I know what I am
doing because I know Leif's temper as you know your English runes. From
the time I was five winters old to the time I was fifteen, I lived under
his roof in Greenland, and he was as my father to me. I know his
sternness, but I know also his justice and what he will dare for a
friend, though Olaf and all his host oppose him."
He let fly a Norman oath as, splod! a handful of wet clay struck between
his bare shoulders. Turning, he saw among the bushes a mischievous hand
raised for a second throw, and scrambled laughing to his feet.
"The trolls! First to drive me from my bath and then to throw mud on me!
Poison his bowl, if you love me, Alwin. Ah, what a throw! It is not
likely that you could hit a door. What bondmaids' aiming! Shame!"
Mocking, and dodging this way and that, he gained the welcome shelter of
the sleeping-house.
A rush of big white bodies, a gleam of dampened yellow hair, an outburst
of boisterous merriment, and the camp was swarming with hungry
uproarious giants, who threw shoes at each other and shoved and
quarrelled around the polished shield, before which they parted their
yellow locks, stamping, singing and whistling as they pulled on their
tunics and buckled their belts.
"Leif is coming!--the Lucky, the Loved One!" Helga sang from her booth;
and the din was redoubled with cheering.
"By Thor, it seems to me that he is coming now!" said Valbrand,
suddenly. He had finished his toilet, and sat at the table, facing the
thicket. Every one turned to look, and beheld Leif's thrall-attendant
gallop out of the shadows toward them. No one followed, however, and a
murmur of disappointment went round.
"It is nobody but Kark!"
Kark rose in his stirrups and waved his hand. He was of the commonest
type of colorless blond, and coarse and ignorant of face; but his
manners had the assurance of a privileged character.
"It is more than Kark," he shouted. "It is news that is worth a hearing.
Ho, for Greenland! Greenland in three days!"
"Greenland?" echoed the chorus.
"Greenland?" cried Helga, appearing in her doorway, with blanching
cheeks.
They rushed upon the messenger, and hauled him from his horse and surged
about him. And what had seemed Babel before was but gentle murmuring
compared with what now followed.
"Greenland! What for?"--"You are jesting." "That pagan hole!"--"In three
days? It is impossible!"--"Is the chief witch-ridden?"--"Has word come
that Eric is dead?"--"Has Leif quarrelled with King Olaf, that the King
has banished him?"--"Greenland, grave-mound for living men!"--"What
for?"--"In the Troll's name, why?"--"You are lying; it is certain that
you are."--"Speak, you raven!"
"In a moment, in a moment,--give me breath and room, my masters," the
thrall answered boldly. "It is the truth; I myself heard the talk. But
first,--I have ridden far and fast, and my throat is parched with--"
A dozen milk-bowls were snatched from the table and passed to him. He
emptied two with cool deliberation, and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
"I give you thanks. I shall not keep you waiting. It happened last night
when Leif came in to make his report to the King. Olaf was seated on the
throne in his hall, feasting. Many famous chiefs sat along the walls.
You should have heard the cheer they gave when it was known that Leif
had the victory!"
Here Kark's roving eyes discovered Alwin among the listeners; he paused,
and treated him to a long insolent stare. Then he went on:
"I was saying that they cheered. It is likely that the warriors up in
Valhalla heard, and thought it a battle-cry. Olaf raised his
drinking-horn and said, 'Hail to you, Leif Ericsson! Health and
greeting! Victory always follows your sword.' Then he drank to him
across the floor, and bade him come and sit beside him, that he might
have serious speech with him."
A second cheer, loud as a battle-cry, went up to Valhalla. But mingling
with its echo there arose a chorus of resentment.
"Yet after such honors why does he banish him?"--"Did they
quarrel?"--"Is it possible that there is treachery?"--"Tell us why he is
banished!"--"Yes, why?"--"Answer that!"
The messenger laughed loudly. "Who said that he was banished? Rein in
your tongues. As much honor as is possible is intended him. It happened
after the feast--"
"Then pass over the feast; come to your story!" was shouted so
impatiently that even Kark saw the wisdom of complying.
"It shall be as you like. I shall begin with the time when every warrior
had gone to bed, except those lying drunk upon the benches. I sat on
Leif's foot-stool, with his horn. It is likely that I also had been
asleep, for what I first remember was that Leif and the King had ceased
speaking together, and sat leaning back staring at the torches, which
were burning low. It was so still that you could hear the men snore and
the branches scraping on the roof. Then the King said, while he still
looked at the torch, 'Do you purpose sailing to Greenland in the
summer?' It is likely that Leif felt some surprise, for he did not
answer straightway; but he is wont to have fine words ready in his
throat, and at last he said, 'I should wish to do so, if it is your
will.' Then the King said nothing for a long time, and they both sat
looking at the pine torch that was burning low, until it went out. Then
Olaf turned and looked into Leif's eyes and said, 'I think it may well
be so. You shall go my errand, and preach Christianity in Greenland.'"
From Kark's audience burst another volley of exclamations.
"It is because he is always lucky!"--"It cannot be done. Remember
Eric!"--"The Red One will slay him!"--"You forget Thorhild his mother!"
"Hail to the King!"--"It is a great honor!"
"Silence!" Valbrand commanded. Kark went on: "Leif said that he was
willing to do whatever the King wished; yet it would not be easy. He
spoke the name of Eric, and after that they lowered their voices so that
I could not hear. Then at last Olaf leaned back in his high-seat and
Leif stood up to go. Olaf stretched forth his hand and said, 'I know no
man fitter for the work than you. You shall carry good luck with you.'
Leif answered: 'That can only be if I carry yours with me.' Then he
grasped the King's hand and they drank to each other, looking deep into
each other's eyes."
There was a pause, to make sure the messenger had finished. Then there
broke out cheers and acclamations and exulting.
"Hail to Leif! Hail to the Lucky One!"--"Leif and the Cross!"--"Down
with the hammer sign!"--"Down with Thor!"--"Victory for Leif, Leif and
the Cross!"
Shields clashed and swords were waved. Kark was thrown bodily into the
air and tossed from hand to hand. A wave of mad enthusiasm swept over
the group. Only Helga stood like one stunned, her hands wound in her
long tresses, her face set and despairing.
The Black One was the first to notice her amid the confusion. He dropped
the cloak he was waving and stared at her wonderingly for a moment; then
he burst into a boisterous laugh.
"Look at the shield-maiden, comrades,--look at the shield-maiden! It has
come into her mind that she is going back to Thorhild!"
For a moment Alwin wondered who Thorhild might be. Then vaguely he
remembered hearing that it was to escape a strong-minded matron of that
name that Helga had fled from Greenland. That now she must go back to be
civilized, and made like other maidens, struck him also as an excellent
joke; and he joined in the laugh. One after another caught it up with
jests and mocking.
"Back to Thorhild the Iron-Handed!"--"No more short kirtles!"--"She has
speared her last boar!"--"After this she will embroider boar-hunts on
tapestry!"--"Embroider? Is it likely that she knows which end of the
needle to put the thread through?"--"It will be like yoking a wild
steer!"--"Taming a shield-maiden!"--"There will be dagger-holes in
Thorhild's back!"--They crowded around her, bandying the jest back and
forth, and roaring with laughter.
Always before, Helga had taken their chaff in good part; always before,
she had joined them in making merry at her expense. But now she did not
laugh. She rose slowly and stood looking at them, her breast heaving,
her eyes like glowing coals.
At last she said shrilly, "Oh, laugh! If you see a jest in it--laugh!
Because I am going to lose my freedom--my rides over the green
country,--never to stand in the bow and feel the deck bounding under
me,--is it such sport to you, you stupid clods? Would you think it a
jest if the Franks should carry me off, and shut me up in one of their
towers, and load me with fetters, and force me to toil day and night for
them? You would take that ill enough. How much better is it that I am to
be shut in a smothering women's-house and wound around with cloth till I
trip when I walk, and made to waste the daylight, baking to fill your
swinish stomachs, and sewing tapestries that your dull eyes may have
something to look at while you swallow your ale? Clods! I had rather the
Franks took me. At least they would not call themselves my friends while
they ill-used me. Heavy-witted churls, laugh if you want to! Laugh till
you burst!"
She whirled away from them into her booth, and the door-curtain fell
behind her.
All day long she sat there, neither eating nor speaking, Editha
crouching in a corner, afraid to approach her.