ERIC THE RED IN HIS DOMAIN
Givers, hail!
A guest is come in;
Where shall he sit?
Water to him is needful
Who for refection comes,
A towel and hospitable invitation,
A good reception;
If he can get it,
Discourse and answer.
Ha'vama'l
Ten by ten, the ship's boat brought them to land, and into the crowd of
armed retainers, house servants, field hands, and thralls. A roar of
delight greeted the appearance of Helga; and Sigurd was nearly
overturned by welcoming hands. It seemed that the crowd stood too much
in awe of Leif to salute him with any familiarity, but they made way for
him most respectfully; and a pack of shaggy dogs fell upon him and
almost tore him to pieces in the frenzy of their joyful recognition. A
fusillade of shoulder-slapping filled the air. Not a buxom maid but
found some brawny neck to fling her arms about, receiving a hearty smack
for her pains. Nor were the men more backward; it was only by clinging
like a burr to her mistress's side that Editha escaped a dozen vigorous
caresses. Alwin, with his short hair and his contradictorily rich dress,
was stared at in outspoken curiosity. The men whispered that Leif had
become so grand that he must have a page to carry his cloak, like the
King himself. The women said that, in any event, the youth looked
handsome, and black became his fair complexion. Kark scowled as he
stepped ashore and heard their comments.
"Where is my father, Thorhall?" he demanded, giving his hand with far
more haughtiness than the chief.
"He has gone hunting with Thorwald Ericsson," one of the house thralls
informed him. "He will not be back until to-night."
Whereupon Kark's colorless face became mottled with red temper-spots,
and he pushed rudely through the throng and disappeared among the
ship-sheds.
"Is my brother Thorstein also in Greenland?" Leif asked the servant.
But the man answered that Eric's youngest son was absent on a visit to
his mother's kin in Iceland. When the boat had brought the last man to
land, the "Sea-Deer" was left to float at rest until the time of her
unloading; and they began to move up from the shore in a boisterous
procession.
Between rich pastures and miniature forests of willow and birch and
alder, a broad lane ran east over green hill and dale. Amid a babel of
talk and laughter, they passed along the lane, the rank and file
performing many jovial capers, slipping bold arms around trim waists and
scuffling over bundles of treasure. Over hill and dale they went for
nearly two miles; then, some four hundred feet from the rocky banks of
Einar's Fiord, the lane ended before the wide-thrown gates of a high
fence.
If the gates had been closed, one might have guessed what was inside; so
unvarying was the plan of Norse manors. A huge quadrangular courtyard
was surrounded by substantial buildings. To the right was the great
hall, with the kitchens and storehouses. Across the inner side stood the
women's house, with the herb-garden on one hand, and the guest-chambers
on the other. To the left were the stables, the piggery, the
sheep-houses, the cow-sheds, and the smithies.
No sooner had they passed the gates than a second avalanche of greetings
fell upon them. Gathered together in the grassy space were more armed
retainers, more white-clad thralls, more barking dogs, more house
servants in holiday attire, and, at the head of them, the far-famed Eric
the Red and his strong-minded Thorhild.
One glance at the Red One convinced Alwin that his reputation did not
belie him. It was not alone his floating hair and his long beard that
were fiery; his whole person looked capable of instantaneous combustion.
His choleric blue eyes, now twinkling with good humor, a spark could
kindle into a blaze. A breath could fan the ruddy spots on his cheeks
into flames.
As Alwin watched him, he said to himself, "It is not that he was three
times exiled for manslaughter which surprises me,--it is that he was not
exiled thirty times."
Alwin looked curiously at the plump matron, with the stately head-dress
of white linen and the bunch of jingling keys at her girdle, and had a
surprise of a different kind. Certainly there were no soft curves in her
resolute mouth, and her eyes were as keen as Leif's; yet it was neither
a cruel face nor a shrewish one. It was full of truth and strength, and
there was comeliness in her broad smooth brow and in the unfaded roses
of her cheeks. Ah, and now that the keen eyes had fallen upon Leif, they
were no longer sharp; they were soft and deep with mother-love, and
radiant with pride. Her hands stirred as though they could not wait to
touch him.
There was a pause of some decorum, while the chief embraced his parents;
then the tumult burst forth. No man could hear himself, much less his
neighbor.
Under cover of the confusion, Alwin approached Helga. Having no
greetings of his own to occupy him, he made over his interest to others.
The shield-maiden was standing on the very spot where Leif had left her,
Editha clinging to her side. She was gazing at Thorhild and nervously
clasping and unclasping her hands.
Alwin said in her ear: "She will make you a better mother than Bertha of
Trondhjem. It is my advice that you reconcile yourself to her at once."
"It was in my mind," Helga said slowly, "it was in my mind that I could
love her!"
Shaking off Editha, she took a hesitating step forward. Thorhild had
parted from Leif, and turned to welcome Sigurd. Helga took another step.
Thorhild raised her head and looked at her. When she saw the picturesque
figure, with its short kirtle and its shirt of steel, she drew herself
up stiffly, and it was evident that she tried to frown; but Helga walked
quickly up to her and put her arms about her neck and laid her head upon
her breast and clung there.
By and by the matron slipped an arm around the girl's waist, then one
around her shoulders. Finally she bent her head and kissed her. Directly
after, she pushed her off and held her at arm's length.
"You have grown like a leek. I wonder that such a life has not ruined
your complexion. Was cloth so costly in Norway that Leif could afford no
more for a skirt? You shall put on one of mine the instant we get
indoors. It is time you had a woman to look after you."
But Helga was no longer repelled by her severity; she could appreciate
now what lay beneath it. She said, "Yes, kinswoman," with proper
submissiveness, and then looked over at Alwin with laughing eyes.
Eric's voice now made itself heard above the din. "Bring them into the
house, you simpletons! Bring them indoors! Will you keep them starving
while you gabble? Bring them in, and spread the tables, and fill up the
horns. Drink to the Lucky One in the best mead in Greenland. Come in,
come in! In the Troll's name, come in, and be welcome!"
Rolf smiled his guileless smile aside to Egil. "It is likely that he
will say other things 'in the Troll's name' when he finds out why the
Lucky One has come," he murmured.