THE WOOING OF HELGA
At love should no one
Ever wonder
In another;
A beauteous countenance
Oft captivates the wise,
Which captivates not the foolish.
A man must not
Blame another
For what is many men's weakness;
For mighty love
Changes the sons of men
From wise into fools.
Ha'vama'l
It happened, one day, that an accidental discovery caused Alwin to
regard these festivities in a new light.
It was a morning in November when he was in the hall, kneeling before
master to lace his high boots. Leif stood before the fire, wrapping
himself up for a ride across the Settlement. Some unknown cause had made
the atmosphere of the breakfast-table so particularly
ungenial,--Thorhild sitting with her back to her spouse, and Eric
manifesting a growing desire to hurl goblets at the heads of all who
looked at him,--that the courtier had judged it discreet to absent
himself from the next meal. He now stood arraying himself from a pile of
furs, and talking with Tyrker, who sat near him blinking in the
fire-glow. Save a couple of house-thralls scrubbing at the lower end of
the room, no one else was present, Eric having started on his morning
round of the stables, the smithies, and the cow-houses.
As he pulled on his fur gloves, Leif smiled satirically. "It is a good
thing that I was present last summer when King Olaf converted Kjartan
the Icelander. It was then I learned that those who cannot be dealt with
by force may often be led by the nose without their knowing it. Olaf
said to the fellow, 'The God I worship does not wish that any should be
brought to Him by force. As you are averse to the doctrines of
Christianity, you may depart in peace.' Whereupon Kjartan immediately
replied: 'In this manner I may be induced to be a Christian.' So,
because I have kept my promise to speak no more concerning Christianity,
men have become curious about it, and yesterday two chiefs came of their
own will and asked me questions concerning it."
Tyrker poked his head out to say "So?" then snuggled back into his wraps
again, to chuckle contentedly. He was so wound up in furs that he looked
like a sharp little needle in a fuzzy haystack.
Leif's smile gave way to a frown. "Another man came to me also, on a
different errand,--Ragner Thorkelsson,--it may be that you saw him? He
wished to make a bargain concerning Helga."
Alwin gave a great start, so that the leather thong snapped in his hand;
but his master went on unheeding.
"You know it is my wish that she shall marry as soon as she can make a
good match, since she is not happy while she sits at home with Thorhild,
and it is not likely that she will like her father much better. It has
been in my mind through every feast; but until now, none of the men who
have asked for her has seemed to me a good match."
Though his hands kept mechanically at their work, Alwin's brain seemed
to have come to a standstill. It must be a dream, a foolish dream. It
was not possible that such a thing could have been planned without his
even suspecting it. He listened numbly.
"The first man was too old. The second was not of good enough kin; and
the other two had not enough property. Ragner Thorkelsson lacks none of
these. He is young; his father's father was a lawman; and he owns
eighteen farms and many ships."
Though he did not in the least know why, Alwin felt a hot desire to seek
out Ragner Thorkelsson and kill him.
"So?" said Tyrker, peering forth inquiringly. "Yet never have I heard
that he any accomplishments had, or that in battle enemies he had
overcome."
"No," Leif assented.
He did not finish immediately, and there was a pause. From the courtyard
came a clashing and jingling of bells, as servants brought the reindeer
from the feeding-ground to harness them to the boat-like sledges that
stood waiting.
"It may be that I have acted unwisely," Leif said at last; "but because
I did not believe it would be according to Helga's wish, I told him that
I would not bargain with him."
Alwin buried a gulping laugh in the fur cloak he had picked up. He had
known that it would end in some such way. Of course; it had been idiotic
to expect anything else. He listened smilingly for what else Leif had to
say.
The guardsman drew the last strap through the last buckle on his double
fur jacket, and turned toward the door. "It may be that I was unwise,
but it may also be that it will not matter much. The most desirable men
come home latest; we have not seen them all. It is likely that the next
feast will decide it."
Long after the door had closed upon Leif, and he had entered the sledge
and been whirled through the gate in a flurry of snow and a clamor of
bells, Alwin stood there, motionless. Tyrker dozed in the comfort-able
warmth, and woke to find him still staring down into the fire.
"What hast thou, my son?" he questioned, kindly. Alwin came to himself
with a start and a stare, and catching up his cloak, hurried out of the
room without replying.
"I will find Helga and tell her that she must put a stop to it," he was
saying to himself as he went. "That is what I will do. I will tell her
that she must stop it."
Pulling his cap lower as the keen wind cut his face, he hurried across
the courtyard toward the women's-house, trying to frame some excuse that
should bring Helga to the door where he could speak to her.
Half-way across, he bumped into Rolf.
"Hail, comrade! Have you left your eyes behind you in your hurry?" the
Wrestler greeted him, catching him by the shoulders and spinning him
round and round as he attempted to pass. "You look as sour as last
night's beer. What will you give to hear good tidings?"
"Nothing. Let me go. I am in a hurry," Alwin fumed.
"You have not outrun your curiosity, have you? I have just learned why
it is that Thorhild no longer speaks to Eric, and why he is in a mood to
smash things."
"Why?" asked Alwin, impatiently; but he no longer struggled, for he knew
it was useless in Rolf's grip.
"Because last night Thorhild told Eric that she had become a Christian.
Her bowerwoman told Helga, and when I met Helga--"
"Met her? Where? Is she in the women's-house?"
Rolf shook him by the shoulders he still held. "Is that all you have to
say to news of such importance? Do you not see that now that Thorhild
has been converted, Eric's men will no longer dare oppose us; lest in
time to come, when she has brought Eric round--"
"I say, where did you meet Helga?" roared Alwin.
Rolf released him, and stood looking at him with an inscrutable smile.
"If I were not your sworn friend, I should enjoy wringing your neck," he
said. "I met Helga at the gate yonder. She was going over to Glum
Starkadsson's to get something for Thorhild, and also because she wished
a walk over the hard snow."
"Is it far from here? And in what direction?"
"For what purpose do you wish to know that?"
"I ask you in what direction it lies."
"The Troll take you!" Rolf gave it up with a laugh. "It lies to the
north of the fiord,--beyond a bridge that crosses a river that runs
through a valley. And it is not far. Have you not yet learned that in
Greenland people do not take long strolls in the winter-time?"
Alwin pulled a hood over his cap, strapped his cloak still tighter, drew
a pair of down-lined mittens from under his girdle and put them on over
his gloves, and, without another syllable, turned and made for the gate.
It was glorious weather, dry and clear, and so still that very little of
the cold penetrated his fur-lined garments. Snow covered everything,
fine and firm and dazzling. The smooth white expanse suggested a wish
that he had brought the skees he was learning to use; then the sight of
the line of boulders he would have had to steer around made him rejoice
that he had not. Far ahead of him rose the glittering wall of inland
ice,--that mysterious frozen sea that covers all of Greenland except its
very border, and never advances and never recedes. What made it stop
there, he wondered? And what lay beyond it? And could those tales be
true that the old women told, of terrible magical beings living on its
silent frozen peaks?
The sight of a dark speck moving over the white plain far ahead of him
banished every other thought. It might be that it was Helga. He crunched
on eagerly. Then he dipped into the valley and lost sight of the speck,
found it on the bridge, dipped again, and again it was lost to view.
It was not until the fence of Glum Starkadsson's farm was plainly in
sight, that he caught another glimpse of it. But this time it was coming
toward him, from the gateway.
Certainly that long crimson cloak and full crimson hood belonged to
Helga. In a moment, she waved her hand at him. Soon he could see her
face under the white fur border. Her scarlet lips were curving in a
smile. The snow-glare brought out the dazzling fairness of her pearly
skin, and her eyes were like two radiant blue stars. It seemed to Alwin
that he had never known before how beautiful she was. A strange shyness
came over him, that weighted his feet and left him without a word to say
when they met.
But Helga greeted him cheerily. "Did you ever breathe finer air? I wish
Thorhild would run out of gold thread every day in the week. Are you in
a hurry?"
"No," Alwin began hesitatingly, "I--"
She did not wait for the end. "Then turn back with me a little way, and
I will tell you something worth hearing."
He turned obediently and walked beside her, trying to think how to put
what he had come to say.
"You remember hearing of Egil's father Olaf, who was so ill-tempered
that Egil dared not go home and confess that he had become a Christian?
Gunnlaug Starkadsson returned this morning from visiting his wife, and
she says that last night the old man's horse threw him so that his head
hit against a stone, and it caused his death."
She made an impressive pause; but Alwin stalked along in silence,
grinding his heels deep into the snow.
"Do you not see what that means?" she asked, impatiently. "Egil will now
come into his inheritance, and become one of the richest men in the
Settlement."
The trouble was that, in the first flash, Alwin had seen it all too
plainly. He had seen that now Egil would become just such a man as Leif
was wishing to bargain with. The thought burnt him like a hot iron, and
he opened his lips to pour out his frenzy; but he could not find the
words.
After a moment he said, sullenly: "I should be thankful if he would
leave Leif's service, so that I could sometimes speak to you without
having him watch me like a dog at a rabbit-hole."
Helga turned toward him with frank interest. "I wonder at that also. He
does not act so when I speak to Sigurd or Rolf. But then, he has behaved
very strangely to me ever since he talked with Skroppa in Iceland, two
seasons ago."
"He spoke to me of Skroppa the first time I saw him," Alwin said,
absently. Then a flicker of curiosity awoke in him. "I wish that you
would tell me what 'Skroppa' stands for. I do not know whether it is man
or beast or demon."
Even out there in the open, Helga glanced about for listeners before she
answered. "Skroppa is a fore-knowing woman, who lives among the
unsettled places north of here, in a cabin down in a hollow. Though Leif
will not admit it, it was she who took the curse off Eric's sword."
It seemed to Alwin that here at last was an opening. He said harshly: "I
wonder if she would be wise enough to tell whom Leif will marry you to
before the feasting is over?"
Helga stood still and looked at him. "What are you talking about?"
He stopped in front of her, with a fierce gesture, and in one angry
burst told her all he had heard. He could not understand how she could
listen so calmly, kicking the snow with the toe of her shoe.
When he had finished, she said quietly: "Yes, I know he has that
intention in his mind. It is for that reason that every time I go to a
feast he gives me costly ornaments, and makes me wear them. I have had
great kindness from his hands. But do not let us speak of it further."
Alwin caught her roughly by her wrists, and shook her a little as he
looked into her eyes. "You must not let him marry you to anyone. Do you
hear? You _must_ not, _I_ love you."
Helga's look of resentment changed to one of pleased surprise, and she
shook his hands heartily. "Do you truly, comrade? I am glad, for I like
you very much indeed,--as much as I like Sigurd."
"Then swear by your knife that you will not let him marry you to
anyone."
She pulled her hands away, a little impatiently. "Why do you ask that
which is useless?"
"But you have just said that you liked me."
"I do; but what does that matter, since I cannot marry you?"
So light had the yoke of servitude grown on Alwin's shoulders that he
had almost forgotten its existence. He opened his lips to ask, "Why?"
Then it came back to him that he was a slave, a worthless, helpless dog
of a slave. He closed his lips again and walked on without speaking,
staring ahead of him with fierce, despairing eyes.