I think that it is no wonder if I feared, having been taught all this. But my comrades were Christians, and on them was no fear of the quiet dead; but only an awe, and reverence. But of that I knew naught.
"Why must we open the house?" I said. "It is as if we courted the wrath of the chief. I have been told of men who would try to win the treasure from a mound where one was buried, and died with fear of what he met with there."
"Such an one deserved it," said Bertric quietly; "but we seek no treasure, nor would rob the dead. No doubt the wrath of Heaven lies hard on one who does so. Yet all this time we do not know if we are right or not."
"Let it be," said I.
"I do not think that we should," Dalfin said. "For if you are right--and you are a Norseman, and know--while it seems about the only possible reading of what has puzzled us--then we must needs sail to the Norway shore that the men of the chief may know what has happened, and either lay him in mound, or see this better carried out."
"Aye," said Bertric, "Dalfin is right. By chance we have been set in charge of this ship--maybe not at all by chance--that we may see honour done at last. Maybe we cannot make for Norway when the wind comes. If not, we must plan otherwise. Come, I cannot rest till I know."
But I held him back, making no secret of my fears.
"We shall have to reckon with the wrath of the hero," I said. "It will be terrible--and we know not what may happen."
At that Dalfin stared at me; but Bertric, who had seen other lands and knew the ways of men, smiled and set his hand on my arm.
"I do not fear him," he said. "It is impossible that if a chief lies there he can be wroth with men who will do naught but honour him. Think--is there any honour to the mighty dead that he should wander across the lone sea thus, as we met him?"
I knew that he was right, and did not gainsay him. After all, we were sure to have looked into that chamber presently, and to have found what I feared--suddenly and unexpectedly--would have been worse. So I set my fears aside as best I could, and went forward with them both to the end of the house, in which we had seen no sign of door. I thought that perhaps the upright timbers which closed the end might be loose; but they were nailed to the roof beam, against which they were set too firmly for us to move them, and we must look for some axe or other tool.
"One of the chests forward is the ship's carpenter's," said Dalfin. "I opened it when we sought for food just now."
He slipped round the house and came back with a heavy hammer and a broad chisel. Bertric took them, and prised away the upper end of the midmost timber without any trouble. Then he drew it toward him, and the lower end wrenched free at once, for the nails that held this building which was to be burnt were not long. And while he did this, he stood on one side, that he might not pry into the chamber idly, as it were, while Dalfin and I could see nothing from where we stood. Only a little peat smoke seemed to come out gently when the timber had gone.
It did but need that two more timbers should be moved thus, and there was room enough for a man to pass through. Then Bertric set down the hammer, and took off his rough sea cap, smiling a little, yet with grave eyes, and so looked in. Dalfin pressed close to him, but I stood aside still.
"The place is full of the peat smoke. I can see nothing," Dalfin said.
"Somewhat white on the floor," said Bertric; "but we block the light."
He stood aside, and the shadowless brightness shone across the chamber through the thinning peat smoke. I saw him start a little, and Dalfin signed himself with his holy sign once or twice. Then I must look also, almost in spite of myself, and I went forward quietly.
It was even as I thought. There lay in state, as his men had left him, a wonderful old chief, whose long, white beard swept like a snowdrift down the crimson cloak in which he was shrouded. They had set him on just such a low, carved bedstead as that which we had found outside the house, dressed in his full mail, and helmed, and with his sword at his side, such a priceless weapon, with gold-mounted scabbard and jewelled hilt, as men have risked the terrors of grave mounds to win. His white hand rested on the pommel, and he was facing forward as if looking toward the far shore which he was to reach through the flames. But there was naught terrible in his look, and even my fears passed as I saw the peacefulness of that last sleep.
The smoke thinned quickly from the chamber; for it had only soaked into it from the peat against its roughly made walls, over which the fagots had been piled too heavily and closely for their purpose. Then we saw that all the deck round the bier was full of caskets and bales, and that on the far wall hung weapons--swords and axes, spears, and bows and arrows, and with them mail shirts and helms and shields, such as the chief himself might wear. And by the side of the chief, packed carefully in a rushen basket, were the bowls, one metal, and the rest of black earthenware, which held the food for the grave, according to our custom. There was a tall jar of wine also, covered with its little silver drinking cup.
Now we stood for a little while silent, and then Dalfin spoke.
"What is that yonder?" he asked under his breath, and pointing to the far end of the chamber. "As it were a heap of mail and linen."
I could not see what he meant, for I stood on one side, but Bertric stepped a pace toward him, and looked more closely past the bier, which almost hid whatever the pile might be. It seemed the only thing set carelessly, for all else was in perfect order. Then he started somewhat, and spoke hurriedly.
"As I live," he cried, but so low that the cry was all but stifled, "it is a girl! Is she also dead or in a swoon?"
He stooped, after a moment's doubt, and went straight into the place. It was so low at the sides of the bier which he must pass, that he was almost double until he reached the foot, and stood up under the ridge. Then he bent, and lifting his burden brought it out into the open air, carrying it toward the after deck away from the penthouse.
Then we saw that it was indeed a girl, tall and pale, with long tresses of yellow-golden hair plaited and bound with some strange gold-woven blue band, dressed in white, with a beautiful light coat of mail over the kirtle.
"She is alive," said Bertric, setting her down very gently. "Either the smoke in that close chamber--or fear--has overcome her. One of you get water from the cask forward."
I went hastily; but I had to search for somewhat in which to bring it, and was a few minutes before I found where the ship's buckets hung under the gunwale right forward. But meanwhile, Dalfin, with no fears in him, had gone gently to the penthouse and brought thence the pitcher of wine and the silver bowl, so that when I came back those two were trying to get some of the wine between the pale lips, though without much success. Now we bathed her face with the cool water, and presently the colour began to come back slowly, though she did not stir.
"We are rough nurses at best," said Bertric; "but we can do better than this. Let us get the bedstead that is forward, and set a fold or two of the awning on it for her to rest on. Better than the hard deck when she comes to herself, and maybe not so terrifying."
We left Dalfin to tend her, and brought the bedstead and canvas with all speed, and so lifted her on it. Then Bertric went back into the house and brought thence a blue cloak which lay where she had fallen, and covered her with it, for the night was chill now. It was her own, and with it he brought a light helm made of steel bands and transparent horn between them, which must have fallen from her head.
Maybe this maiden was of twenty years, or less, and to me, at least, who had no sisters as had the others, she seemed beautiful altogether. I know that had she faced us in life in the entry of the chamber, clad as she was in her mail and helm, I had been sure that she was a Valkyria, sent hither by Odin to choose the hero yonder for his halls.
"She is long in coming round," said Bertric presently. "It may be as well to close up that chamber before she sees it open, lest she take us for common robbers, and be terrified."
Dalfin laughed a little.
"Helm and mail and fear should not go together," he said.
"She will wake without thought of what she has tried to be," answered Bertric. "Get the place closed, Malcolm, anywise."
Now Dalfin and I went together, and set back the timbers in their places. But they would not bide there properly, and I took up the hammer we had used to take them down, and drove one or two of the upper nails again lightly, Dalfin kneeling and holding the ends below. Whether the sharp click of the iron roused the girl or not I cannot say, but I had not driven more than three before I heard a little cry behind me, and turned to see if there was anything amiss.
The girl was sitting up, and seeming not to heed Bertric at all--for he was behind her and supporting her--was looking at us two with wide eyes of fear and wonder. And when I turned of a sudden, she set her hands together and held them out toward me as if she prayed, and cried to me:
"Asa Thor! Asa Thor! will you leave me? Is there no place in Freya's hall--in Gladsheim--for a maiden, if to Asgard she may not come?"
I had no answer. For the moment I thought that she saw some vision of the Asir beyond my ken, and then knew that it was indeed to myself that she spoke. For I stood at the door of the house of the dead, with Thor's weapon--the hammer--in my hand, and she wandered in her mind with the weakness that comes after a swoon.
"Hush, lady, hush," said Bertric in a wonderfully gentle voice. "It is not Thor whom you see, but only a friend."
But seeing that I made no answer, nor moved, for I was at a loss altogether, she turned to Dalfin, who still knelt beside me, watching her in blank amaze. The Norse gods were all but unknown to him, save perhaps as he had heard their names now and then from the Irish Danes.
"You must be Freyr, you other of the greeters of the slain. Speak for me, I pray you, to the hammer bearer, that I may go whither my grandfather is gone, if so be that I am dead."
"Nay, lady," said Dalfin, with all courtesy, "I do not know him you mean. I am only Dalfin, Prince of Maghera, of the northern O'Neills."
Now, at that magnificent "only" I saw Bertric trying to stifle somewhat like a grin beyond the shoulder of his charge.
"Lady," he said, "we are but mortal men. We are here to help you, for the ship has not taken fire, and you are safe."
She gave a little gasp and sank back on the roll of canvas we had set for a pillow, and her eyes closed. I put back the last timber hastily, and came aft, getting out of sight behind the bedstead, being in no wise willing to be hailed as Thor again. As for Dalfin, he poured out another cup of the wine and gave it to Bertric, who had signed to him for it.
"She will be herself directly," he said sagely. "Who was it that she took me for?"
"Only a heathen god, and a worthy one," answered the Saxon, setting the cup to the lips of the girl, and making her drink some of its contents slowly. "Neither you nor Malcolm will ever be held quite so highly again. Make the most of it."
I think that he meant the lady to hear him speak thus cheerfully, and it is certain that she did so. A little wan smile flitted across her face, and then she flushed red, and opened her eyes. Her first glance fell on the penthouse, and she shuddered somewhat. Then she sat up and looked round for us, seeing Bertric for the first time, as he stood at the head of the rough couch.
"Forgive me, friends," she said quietly. "I think I was not quite myself. I must have been in a long swoon. There was smoke also rising round me when last I knew anything."
Now she slipped from the bedstead and set her feet on the deck, facing us. I saw her look pass quickly over our dress, and minded that we were in no holiday trim. She saw Bertric in the thrall's dress, and Dalfin in his torn and scorched and sea-stained green hunting tunic and leather hose, and myself only in the Norse dress, and that war torn and grimed with the fight in the hall, which seemed so many years ago now, and with the long sea struggle that came thereafter. Yet she did not shrink from us.
"I cannot understand it all," she said. "How comes it that you are here, and thus? You seem as men who have fought, and are hardly yet restored after the weariness of fight."
"We have fought, lady, and have fared ill. We were captives and have escaped; and as we fled by sea we fell in with this ship when at our wits' end."
So I answered, for my comrades looked at me. The fight was mine, so to speak.
"It seems well for me," she said, smiling somewhat sadly. "I had no thought but to be burnt. Now I have escaped that. Tell me how it may have been."
I did so, wondering all the time how she came to be in that terrible place, for she spoke of escape. That she would tell us in her own time, no doubt.
"What can be done now?" she asked, speaking to us as to known friends, very bravely.
If she had doubts of us, she hid them. Perhaps that we owned to being escaped captives explained much to her--else she had surely wondered that the tattered Dalfin claimed to be a prince. Yet he was princely, both in look and bearing, as he rose up and made himself known, with a bow which none but a courtier could have compassed.
"Bertric is shipmaster," I said; "he will answer."
"The ship is yours, lady, and we can but serve you," he answered. "Now, it depends on the wind when it comes with dawn, as no doubt it will, what course we can take, for we are too few to work the ship rightly. We had thought of trying to make the Norway shore at the nearest point we could reach, and so setting the ship, and the hero who lies in her, in the hands of those who will do him the honour that he needs at the last."
At that, to our great surprise, she shook her head.
"That you cannot do; at least, you may not go back to the land whence he came. Hall and town may be in the hands of our worst foe, else I had not been here."
"We cannot be sure of making your haven in any case. We should have sought such haven as we might, had we been alone."
"And you thought nothing of the treasure, which will be surely taken from you?"
"We had not thought of it, lady. We have been on board the ship but three hours or so. What thought might have come to us I cannot say. But it is not ours, and we could not rob the dead."
He said that quite simply, and as the very truth, which must be to us as a matter of honour.
"Tell me who you are," she said. "The prince I know already. Dalfin, I think it was, an Irish name."
Dalfin bowed again, well pleased. Then he took on himself to make us known in turn, as gravely as if in his father's court.
"This is my host, Malcolm, son of the Norse Jarl of Caithness, who has unfortunately succeeded his brave father after a gallant fight, in which I was honoured in taking part. This is Bertric the Thane, of Lyme, in England, a shipmaster of long standing. He joined us when we two escaped from Heidrek, who calls himself the Seafarer, and held us captive after burning out my host and his folk."
"Heidrek the Seafarer!" she said, with a sharp sigh, looking up in wonder at us. "When was it that he did this harm to you?"
"It was three days ago," I answered. "He fell on us at dawn, and by noon we were at sea with him as captives. That same night we escaped, thanks to the young chief, Asbiorn."
"Then he came straightway from your home and fell on mine," she said gravely. "Surely the wrath of the Asir will fall on Heidrek ere long, if, indeed, the Asir care aught what a warrior does of wrong."
"Has he burnt you out also, lady?" asked Dalfin.
"That I doubt," she answered shortly. "But it was with his help that I myself was set afloat to be burned."
Then her strength seemed to give way at last as the fullness of her trouble came to her, and she turned from us and sank down sideways on the bed where she sat, and wept silently. It was hard for us to stand and see this; but we were helpless, not at all knowing what we could do. I suppose that we could have done nothing, in truth; but it seemed as if we ought to have been of some help in word, at least.
At last she ceased, and sat up again, trying to smile.
"Yesterday, I had thought myself far from such foolishness as this," she said. "Today, I know that this mail and helm of mine and the sword that lies yonder in the chamber where you found me are not fitting for me. They are an idle boast and empty. I am only a weak woman--and alone."
Almost was she to breaking down again, but she was brave. And then Bertric spoke for the three of us.
"Lady," he said, "we are homeless wanderers, but we would not have you think yourself altogether alone so long as we can plan for you. Mayhap we can do no more, but, at least, we shall see. I cannot think that all hope is lost. See, we have the ship, and it is high summer. Not one of us can be worse off than we have been of late, and we may win to comfort once more."
Thereat she looked at the three of us, and rose up and stretched her hands toward us, as in greeting.
"I will trust you," she said. "I will think of you as friends and brothers in trouble, and in enmity to Heidrek the evildoer. It must be that you three have wrought loyally together through the long storm, and you can never be aught but friends thereafter, for you have tried one another. Let me be as the fourth of you without favour."
"Lady," said Dalfin, "I have sisters at home, and they were wont to share all the sport of myself and my brothers, even as you say, as of our number without favour. But always the sisters had the favoured place, because we willed it, and should be unhappy if it were otherwise. There were some favours which they held as their unspoken right.
"Is not that so in your land, Bertric the Thane, and in yours, friend Malcolm the Jarl?"
Truly this Dalfin knew how to set things in the right way, for even I, who had no sisters, was not left out of that answer. So we both said that he was right, and she knew well what we meant, and was content. Moreover, by naming our titles once again, though they were barren enough here in all truth, he told her that it was on our honour to help her.
"I am more than content," she said softly. "I am no longer friendless. Now I will tell you what befell me, and then you shall plan what you may, not in anywise thinking too much of me, but for all four of us."
She set the blue cloak round her as if chill, and was silent, thinking for a few minutes. Bertric and I leant on the gunwale close by, and Dalfin set himself on the deck near us. And all the while she spoke, Bertric was glancing eastward across the still water for the first sign of the breeze we longed for. I know now that on him was a dread lest it should bring with it the brown sails of Heidrek's two ships; but he did not show it. It was likely that men would have watched for the smoke of the burning ship, and that when they did not see it, would put out to search, guessing what had happened.
"Yonder lies my grandfather," the lady said presently. "He was a king in the old days before Harald made himself the one ruler in the land who should so call himself. But he cared not at all for the name, so that he held his own place among his own people, and therefore let it be, for he was a friend of Harald's and helped him to the one throne. Whereby we have lived in peace till just now, when the old chief grew feeble. Then came my far cousin, Arnkel, and would take first place, for my father, the old man's son, was dead. That my grandfather would not suffer. He would have me rule, for I should not be the first woman who had done so in his little realm. One of my ancestresses fought as a shield maiden--as I thought myself until today--in the great Bravalla fight long ago. It is her mail which I have on now. Arnkel pretended to agree to this, being crafty. It pleased the chief, and deceived me--till yesterday. Then at last I knew that he did but wait for the death of my grandfather, Thorwald, and then would get rid of me and my claims. So Thorwald died, and we would set him in his ship and build a mound over her in all honour. But to do that must sail her from up the long fjord, where we have our place, to a low shore which lies open to the sea near its mouth, for with us is no place where we may find such a spot as we needed. A little village of ours is there on the coast, at which we might beach and draw up the ship; and so we made all ready, even as you see it now, save for closing the chamber, and sailed thither after the storm had passed, in the bright night. There we beached the ship, with the rollers under her, while the people made ready the place for the mound.
"Then suddenly, from over the near hills came Heidrek and his men, and fell on us as the folk worked. I sat on the deck here alone at that time, clad thus for the last rites, and saw the warriors swarm out of a little valley on my folk, and rose up to go to them with my arms. Then came Arnkel on board in haste, and bade me shelter in the chamber. The ship was to be set afloat lest the fight should go against us. But I would not go."
There she stopped, and a look of remembered terror crossed her face.
"He had two men with him; and all the rest--our courtmen and the freemen who loved me, as I think--were running to the fight. So they made no more ado, but carried me thither, bound me that I might not cry out, and then set up the timbers hastily and fastened them. So I must lie helpless and hear what went on. They went ashore, and soon the ship groaned and creaked over the rollers, but stopped before she was afloat. Men came then and cast things on board, which were the fagots and the peat for firing; but I could not cry out, for my head was too closely muffled. I think you would say that I was gagged. The noise of the fight went on, and seemed to come nearer. Then the ship took the water. I heard men leap on board her, and the sail was hoisted. One cried that the chief would have a fitting funeral after all, Heidrek or no Heidrek; and another said that the treasure Heidrek sought would be lost to him. I heard the creak of the yard, and I felt the ship swing to the wind, and then the men went over the side, and there was silence. Only from the shore after a little space came a great cry, 'Skoal to King Thorwald, and farewell!' and with that the war horns blew fiercely, and the battle cry rang again. Then came the terrible stifling smoke, and I knew that Arnkel had thus rid himself of me.
"Presently I freed myself from the gag and the bonds, and tried to beat down the end of the house, but I could not. I took an axe from the wall, feeling for it in the darkness, but I waxed faint and breathless, and the roof is low and I could not use it. I mind that I set it back; and that is all until I woke here to see, as I thought, Thor with his hammer and Freyr beside him, and so--"
That was all; and it was enough. Only Dalfin had one question to ask.
"I wonder this evil Arnkel parted with the treasure so lightly."
"My folk would not have let him lay hands on it in any case," she answered plainly. "And they would keep it from Heidrek."
"That is how the men of Heidrek fell on us," I said. "He must have landed his men beyond your sight, but not far off."
"There were two ships seen passing north in the storm," she said. "They will have been his, and he must have berthed them in some near fjord. There he would hear of this that was to be, and of the treasure which the old king took with him to his grave."
Then Bertric said thoughtfully enough:
"It may well be that the fight has gone hardly for Heidrek, else I think that he would have put off to follow the ship before this. After all, it may be that we can sail back to your fjord and tell this tale to your folk, and so make an end of Arnkel and his misdeeds. Now, lady--for as yet we do not know your name--we will rig the forward awning for you, and there you shall sleep. Here is this bed, and if there is aught else--"
"My name is Gerda," she answered, smiling. "I forgot that you could not know it. Yes, I am weary, and what you will do is most kind. See, there is one chest there which I would have with me. It holds the gear that was my grandmother's, and I may surely use it in my need. I had never to ask my grandsire for aught but he would give it me."
We had all ready in very little time, and there we left her, and she smiled at us and thanked us again, and so let fall the awning curtains and was gone. Then we three went aft and sat down and looked at one another. We had a new care thrust on us, and a heavy one.
Bertric walked backward and forward, as a seaman ever will, across the deck, whistling softly to himself, and looking eastward.
"Once," he said, as if thinking aloud, "I was foolish enough to buy a bag full of wind from a Finn. He said that it depended on how much I let out what sort of breeze I had. When he was out of my reach, I found that he had not told me from which quarter the wind would come. So I hove the thing overboard. Now I wish I had it. Any wind is better than this doubt of what may come."
"Aye," I said. "We may be blown back into the arms of old Heidrek. What say you to taking one of these boats, or fitting out our own with their oars, and so trying to make the coast? Even Heidrek would pay no heed to a boat."
"We may have to do that yet," answered my friend. "Heidrek is not coming, or he would have sought this ship under oars at once. That Arnkel must have beaten him soundly--is that likely?"
"I think so," I said. "Every warrior would be in his war gear at that funeral, and it would be a full gathering of the king's folk. Now, I wonder how Arnkel explained the making away of the lady to her people."
"One may think of many lies he could tell. Men do not heed what goes on behind them when a fight is on hand. He will say that she fled, or that Heidrek's men took her--as the fight may go. They will search for her, in the first case, and presently think her lost for good."
"If there is one thing which I should like more than another," said Dalfin, "it would be to see Arnkel's face when we take back the lady."
"So we may--but not yet. We must know where Heidrek is. And we have to wait for wind. Eh, well! We had better sleep. I will take first watch."
"No, Bertric," I said; "do you two sleep. I could not if I tried."
"Why not?" he asked, with a great yawn. "I could sleep anywhere at this minute, and Dalfin is as bad."
"I think that I could not sleep with yonder chief so near me," I said frankly.
Dalfin laughed, though Bertric did not; but without more ado, they took the sail from the nearest boat and rolled themselves under it on the after deck. They were asleep in a moment, knowing that I would call them with the first sign of wind, if it came before my watch was ended. It wanted about an hour to midnight at this time, and the red glow of the sun in the sky was flooding the north.
Now for a long while I paced the deck, thinking of all that had happened in these few days. Heavy things they were, but the heaviest were those of the summer morning when Heidrek came, so that beside those terrors what else had passed was as nothing. And I passed through them all again, as it were, and hardened myself to bear them.
I have said little or nothing of my folk, and I needed not to do so. They were gone, and from henceforth I was alone. What had been was no more for me. Even the little Norse village in Caithness, which had been my home, was destroyed, so far as I was concerned, for the Scots would have stepped into our place, if it was worth having after the fire and sword had been there. I could never regain it. Only, there were some things which I owed to my father, and no man could take them from me while I lived. Skill in arms I had from his teaching, and such seamanship as a man of two-and-twenty may have learned in short cruises; woodcraft, too, and the many other things which the son of a jarl should know. And with these, health and strength, and a little Scots coolness, maybe; for I could see that if aught was to be won, I had only myself to look to for the winning.
So I, in the weird twilight that had fallen now with midnight, thought and tried to foresee what should be in the days to come, and could plan nothing. Only I knew that now, for the time at least, I and these two friends who slept had the lady yonder to care for before ourselves.
I tired of the short walk to and fro presently, and I think that at last I forgot my fears of the dead king in my thoughts, for I went nearer the penthouse, and sat myself on the starboard boat on the deck. There had risen a light curling mist from the still sea now, as the air cooled, and it wrapped the ship round with its white folds, and hid the height of the drooping sails and the dragon head forward; and presently it seemed to me that out of the mist came the wraiths of those of whom I thought, and drew near me, and I had neither fear nor joy of their coming.
My father came and sat himself beside me, and he was as I had seen him last, dressed in his mail, but with a peace on his face instead of the war light. My brothers came, and they stood before us, not smiling, but grave and content. The courtmen whom I had loved came, and they ranged themselves across the deck, and I watched them, and felt no wonder that they should be here. Surely my longings had called them, and they came. So I and they all bided still for a little while; and then the courtmen raised their weapons toward me as in salute, and drifted from the deck into the white mists over the water, and were gone. Then those two mighty brethren of mine smiled on me, with a still smile, and so they, too, were gone, and only my father was left; and he, too, rose up, and stood before me where the brothers had been, and it seemed to me that he spoke to me.
"Now are you the last of our line, the line which goes back to Odin, my son; and on you it lies that no dishonour shall fall on that line, which has never yet been stained. And we trust you. So be strong, for there are deeds to be done yet in the days that lie before you."
Then he set his hand on my shoulder, and passed to join those others, and how I do not know. I was alone.
Then a longing to be with them again came over me, and I rose and stretched my hands to the place where I had seen them, but there was nothing--until I turned a little, looking for them; and then I knew that there was one who would speak to me yet.
The penthouse chamber was open, and it seemed to be filled with a white light and soft, and in the doorway stood the old king, beckoning to me, so that, for all my fears, I must needs go to him. Yet there was naught for me to fear in the look which he turned on me.
"Friend," he said, "the old sea which I love should be my grave. See to it that so it shall be. Then shall you do the bidding of the maiden whom I have loved, my son's daughter, and it shall be well with you, and with those friends of yours and of mine who sleep yonder."
Therewith he paused, and his glance went to the things which lay round the boats and in them--the things which had been set in the ship for the hero to take to Asgard with him.
"See these things," he said again. "They are hers, and not mine. There will be a time when she will have need of them. In the place where I shall be is no need of treasure, as I deemed before I knew. Nor of sword, or mail, or gear of war at all. And the ways of the peace of that place are the best."
Then I was alone on the deck, and the tall figure with the long white beard and hair was no longer before me. The chamber was closed, even as we had left it, and there was neither sign nor sound to tell me how that had been wrought. And with that a terror came on me, and I went backward toward where my comrades lay, crying to them by name, and my knees failed me, and I fell on the deck, unknowing if they heard.
Bertric leapt up and saw me falling, and ran to me.
"Poor lad!" he said, "poor lad! Here is he worn out by fighting and watching, and I would let him watch yet more--I, who am used to the long hours at sea, and have grown hard in ill usage."
With that he called to Dalfin, who was sitting up sleepily, being as worn out as myself, and they two hapt me in the sail, and made me drink of the wine--which I would not have done at all, if I had rightly known what I was about, considering whence it came--and presently I came to myself and thanked them, feeling foolish. But more than that I did not do, for the warmth took hold of me, and I fell asleep with the words on my lips. Nor did Dalfin need a second bidding before he lay down again alongside me and slept. And so Bertric went on watch silently, and I heeded nothing more, till the sun and the heave of the ship on a long swell that was setting from the north woke me.
In the sunlight those visions which I had seen seemed as if they had been but wrought of weariness and weakness, and of the long thoughts which I had been thinking. I would heed them as little as I might, therefore, lest they took hold of me again. But I had not forgotten the words which had been spoken to me, for they were good, and in no wise fanciful.
I said nothing of what had happened before I cried out and fell. There was no need, for both Bertric and Dalfin made little of the matter, saying that it was no wonder, and that maybe I had been more hurt when I was struck down than I felt at the time--which is likely enough. However, I had no more trouble in that way. Food and sleep and the rest on that quiet deck were all that I needed.
"There is wind coming directly, and enough of of it, if not too much for us," Bertric said. "There has been a gale somewhere far north, to judge by this swell. Now, I want breakfast before it comes, but I dare not rouse the lady by getting yon kettle."
As if she had heard him, from beyond the penthouse we saw the lady herself coming, and we rose up to greet her. Dalfin went quickly, and helped her over the slanting timbers of the house, where they blocked the way, and so she came aft to us. She had taken off her mail, and had put on a warm, blue kirtle over her white dress, and had made some differences otherwise, which are past my setting down. But now she looked fresh and bright after the rest, and the utmost of the trouble had gone from her face.
She greeted us as if we were old friends of her own household, and that was good. Then she sat on the steersman's bench, which we set for her, and asked of the sea and wind, and the chances of the day, brightly. And so at last Bertric said what was nearest to his mind.
"The wind will be here shortly, lady, and meanwhile we were thinking of our breakfast. Yesterday we had no scruple in helping ourselves, but today we are somewhat shy, maybe. But we would bring the great kettle from forward, if you will break your fast with us."
"Friend Bertric," she said, laughing, "we made a pact concerning equal shares of favour and hardship alike. Yet I do not rightly know--"
She looked grave for a little while, staying her words and thinking.
"Aye," she said at last, with a smile; "this ship was provisioned for a long voyage--for the longest of all, indeed. It seems that for part of the way we have to be her crew. Well, then, we may take what we will of her stores, and do no wrong. The great cauldron, too, holds but part of the funeral feast, and that was mine. Aye, fetch it. There are other things also which may be found, and you can take of them."
But we had no need to search further, for what we had found last night was more than enough. We brought the cauldron aft, and some of the oatcake; and as we ate, first grew and darkened a long blue line which crossed the sea to the eastward, and then came stray airs which lifted the loose folds of the sail uselessly.
Bertric and I went forward and got out two of the ship's long oars, and pulled her head round to the southward. The water dimpled alongside of us and the sail filled as the breeze came. We laid in the oars and went aft to the helm; and so in a few minutes the ship had gathered way, and was heeling a little to the wind, and the foam gathered round her bows and slid along her side aft as she headed southward with the wind on her beam.
"Now, Lady Gerda," said Bertric, "we are under way once more, and the question is, Whither? How far are we from the Norway coast?"
"I cannot tell," she answered. "It was a little before noon, however, when the ship was set afloat, as I have told you."
"We overhauled her at sunset," he said thoughtfully. "At that time she was not doing more than four knots. Maybe we are fifty miles from shore, for she may have done better than that, though I doubt it, seeing how wildly she sailed. Now we can hardly beat back there, for we are too few to work the sail."
"It is as well," she answered sadly. "There wait Arnkel and Heidrek."
"We think that Arnkel may have made an end of Heidrek's power," I said.
At that she shook her head.
"Arnkel has had old dealings with Heidrek. He has sailed with him, I know. It is more likely that after he had done with me, he made some sort of terms with him, finding out who the attackers were. We did not know at first, but I heard the men name Heidrek as the ship was fired."
"Well, then," Bertric said, after a little thought, "we must try to make the Shetlands or the Orkneys. Malcolm will find us friends there."
So, that being quite possible if the wind held, and I being sure of welcome for my father's sake, we set a course for Shetland as nearly as we could judge it. The ship sailed wonderfully well and swiftly, even under the shortened canvas, and Bertric was happy as he steered her. And at his side on the bench sat the Lady Gerda, silently looking ever eastward toward the home she had lost, while I and Dalfin well-nigh dozed in the sun on the warm deck amidships in all content, for things went well with us.
Presently Gerda rose up and came forward, as if she would go to her awning, and I went to help her over the timbers again.
"Come forward with me," she said; "I have something I must say to you."
I followed her, and she went to the gunwale, close to the penthouse, where she was screened from Dalfin, and leant on it.
"You are of my own folk," she said, "and of the old faith, and therefore I can tell you what is troubling me. These other two good friends are of the new faith I have heard of, for I saw them sign their holy sign ere they ate, and you signed Thor's hammer over the meat."
"They are Christians," I said; "but I have nothing ill to say of that faith, for I have known many of them in Scotland. I am Odin's man."
"I have heard nothing but ill," she said. "I was frightened when I knew that they were not Odin's men. Will they keep faith with me?"
"To the last," I answered. "Have no fear of that. It is one thing which the Christian folk are taught to do before all else."
"I think that I could not mistrust these two in any case," she said; "but all this is not what I would speak of, though it came uppermost. What I am troubling about is this which lies here," and she set her hand for a moment on the penthouse. "What shall be done? For now we cannot fire the ship."
"If we make the Shetland Islands," I answered, "there are Norsemen who will see that all is done rightly. There they will lay the king in mound as becomes a chief of our land."
"And if not?"
"We might in any case make the Danish shore."
"Where a Norse chief will find no honour. Better that he were sunk in the sea here. I would that this might be done, if we have any doubt as to reaching a land where your folk were known."
"It may be done, Lady Gerda," I answered, while into my mind came the words which the old chief seemed to have spoken to me in the night. "It may be the best thing in the end. But let us wait. Shall I speak of this to the others for you?"
"Aye, do so," she said. "What have they thought?--for you three must have spoken thereof already."
"It has been in the mind of all of us to take the chief back to some land where he will be honoured. We have spoken of naught else as yet. I will say that it has seemed to me that the Christian folk have more care for the honour of the dead than have we."
"That is all I needed to hear," she said simply. "I have feared lest it had been rather the other way."
Now I looked aft, and saw Bertric staring under his hand astern, and stepped to the other gunwale to see what it was at which he looked. But I could make out nothing. The sea was rising a little, but that was of course as the breeze freshened steadily. There was no sign of change or of heavier weather to come, and no dark line along the eastward sea warned me of a coming squall. Yet Bertric still turned from the helm and looked astern.
"What is it?" asked Gerda. "Go and see, and call me if it is aught."
So I went aft again, and stood beside Bertric, asking him what had caught his eye.
"I cannot say for certain," he said; "but it seemed to me that for a moment somewhat like a sail lifted on the sea's rim off yonder."
He pointed off the port quarter, and turned to the helm again, leaving me to see if I could catch sight of what he had seen. Maybe it was but the dipping wing of a gull.
But it was not that. Presently I also saw the speck he meant, and it did not disappear again. It was the head of a square, brown sail, the ship herself to which it belonged being hull down, but holding the same course as ourselves, or thereabouts, so far as one could judge as yet. And before long a second hove up from astern the first.
"They are running a bit freer than we," Bertric said. "They have a shift of wind astern of them, whereby they are overhauling us."
"Two brown-sailed ships," said I. "They mind one too much of Heidrek to be pleasant, else one might welcome the coming of any honest Norsemen who would help us to do the right."
"Wait, and I will tell you," answered Bertric somewhat grimly. "I cannot mistake Heidrek's ships once I get a fair sight of them."
In half an hour or so he did tell me. They were undoubtedly Heidrek's, and were in chase of us. This ship was not to be mistaken even from a long distance.
"Heidrek has followed in the track this vessel must needs have taken, and now supposes that some stray fishers have picked her up and are trying to get away with her and the treasure. Well, that is near enough to the truth, too," said Bertric, laughing a short laugh. "No, let Dalfin and the lady rest in peace until we know if they outsail us. This is a wonderful little craft, but she needs her crew on board."
We were sailing with the easterly wind on our beam, and making maybe six knots on it, with the two reefs down. The full crew of such a ship as this for such a cruise without any warlike ending to it would be about twenty, or perhaps a few less. She pulled sixteen oars a side, and with a war crew on board would muster ninety-six men--three to an oar--with a few extra hands, as the helmsman and the chiefs, to make a total of a hundred. Her decks would be crowded, of course, but she would be down to her bearings, being built for war cruises, and in a breeze all her men would be sitting up to windward as shifting ballast, so to speak. It is not likely, therefore, that we could have done much better had we managed to shake out the reefs, seeing that the ship was light. Her pebble ballast had been taken out when she was drawn up for the last time on shore, and in the hurry it had been needless to replace it.
So the two pirate longships overhauled us fast, and presently their low, black hulls were plain to us. It was time we did somewhat if we were not to be taken without an effort to escape.
"See here," said Bertric suddenly, "I know somewhat too well how those ships can sail; but I think that this ship would beat them in a reach to windward. That, of course, would run us in toward the Norway shore, and I have ever heard that it is as dangerous as any. I do not know it, but the Lady Gerda may do so. If the worst came to the worst, it is in my mind that we might take to the boat and let the ship go her own way, if she is beyond our handling when we make the shore."
"If we can sight land, it is possible that we may be sighted also," said I. "It seems our only chance. I will call Gerda."
Bertric nodded, and I went forward and called her accordingly, rousing Dalfin, who slumbered in the sun under the lee of the boats amidships, as I passed him.
Gerda came quickly from her awning as she heard me, and saw the two ships at once. They were then some eight miles astern of us, and she looked at me with an unspoken question.
"They are Heidrek's ships," I said. "We have to try one last chance of outsailing them."
"Anything rather than that we should fall into such hands," she said at once.
Now Bertric told her what seemed to be our one plan, and she answered that she was well content to be guided by us. Neither she nor we knew rightly where we were, nor how far it might be to the coast. But she did know that everywhere that shore was belted by rocky islands, and sea-washed skerries.
"You may be able to steer into safety between them," she said. "You may split the ship on some half-sunk rock not far from the land, and so we ourselves may be saved in the boat. I think that is the best--for so may come a sea grave for my grandfather--and no enemy's hand shall touch him or his."
Then said Bertric, with set teeth, "If we may not outsail Heidrek, it will be my part to sink one of his ships with our own, if it may be done."
"Aye," she said. "Do so."
Therein I was altogether with them, and Dalfin smiled a strange smile in assent.
"You would steer this ship against the other?" he asked. "Then I suppose that over the bows here might go on board that other a man with an axe, and smite one blow or two before he is ended. It will be well enough if so."
"You shall have your chance," said I. "Maybe I will help."
Now we said no more. Bertric luffed, and we flattened in the sheet, Gerda hauling with us, laughing, and saying that it was not for the first time. Then Bertric's face cleared, for the ship went to windward like a swallow, her length helping her in spite of her lightness. We had to cut adrift our boat at this time, as she would hinder us. We had no more need of her.
Heidrek altered his course at once, sailing a point or two more free than we, either, as Bertric thought, because he could lie no closer to the wind, or else meaning to edge down on us. And, he being so far to windward, for a time it seemed as if he neared us fast.
In two hours we knew that we outsailed him, close hauled. Little by little we gained to windward, until he was three miles astern of us and losing still more rapidly, as he went to leeward. He could not look up to the wind any closer. One of his ships, indeed, was astern and to leeward of the other, so that if that one only had had to be counted with, we were safe.
Then he took to his oars, and Bertric and I knew that the worst was yet to come, as we saw the sun flash from the long row of rising and falling blades across the miles of sea.
"Some of them will be mighty tired yet before they overhaul us," I said. "A stern chase is a long chase."
Now I began to look restlessly for some sign of the high land of the Norway shore, but there was naught to be seen. Only to eastward the sky was dull and grayish, as it were with the loss of light in the sky over hill and forest. And Heidrek was gaining on us steadily if very slowly. We were very silent at this time.
Presently Gerda broke the silence.
"Friend Bertric," she said in a still voice, "how long have we?"
He glanced back at the ships, and answered her, after a moment's thought.
"Two hours--or maybe three, if the men who row tire--that is if the wind holds. If it freshens, we may beat them yet."
"I hear that you doubt that last," she said. "Now, is it still in your minds to die rather than fall into the hands of yon men?"
"Lady," said I, "we three would have no care for ourselves. We have to think of you."
"I will die, sooner," she answered, with set lips.
"Then," said Bertric simply, "it shall be as I have said. We will ram the pirate ship and sink with her."
Then Gerda rose up and looked at the three of us, and her face grew bright.
"Now I have one thing to ask you," she said, "and that is to let me arm you once more. It is not fitting that you three should fall and pass to Asgard all unlike warriors--in that thrall-like gear.
"Come with me, Malcolm, and bring what I shall find for you."
I followed her until she stayed at the entrance to the penthouse, and I half feared that she would bid me open and enter it. In truth, we had almost forgotten what lay there, but now I could not but remember, and the old dread came back to me. But she did not do so. She pointed to one of the great chests which had been stowed between the boats, and bade me open it. I had to tug at it to bring it forward, for it was heavy, and then threw the lid back.
It was full of mail, and with the close-knit ring shirts were helms, and some few short, heavy swords.
"War spoils of the old days before Harald Fairhair," she said. "When my grandfather had many foes, and knew how to guard himself. All these would have been rent and spoiled before they were laid in the ship mound--but at the last there was not time--thus."
Now she called to Dalfin, and he came eagerly, with a cry of delight on seeing the war gear.
"Lift them, and choose what you will for yourselves and Bertric," she said. "It will be strange if, among all, you do not find what will suit you."
Now there was no difficulty in finding suits of the best for the other two. There were seven in all in the chest, and we set two aside. Dalfin was tall and slight, and very active, and Bertric was square and sturdy, and maybe half a head shorter than either of us. But after the way of my forebears, both Norse and Scottish, I was somewhat bigger than most men whom I have met, though not so much in height as in breadth of shoulder. Maybe, however, I was taller than Dalfin, for I think he was not over six feet.
So it happened that as Dalfin, in all light-heartedness, as if no enemy was nearer than Ireland, took up suit after suit of the bright ring mail and stretched them across my shoulders, trying to fit me, not one of these would do by any means. Gerda stood by us, watching quietly.
"It does not matter," I said at last. "Let me have a weapon, and I shall not be the first of us who has fallen unmailed."
"No," said Gerda, "it is my fancy that my champions shall be well armed. Open the small chest yonder."
I did so, and in that lay a most beautiful byrnie and helm, if anything better than those we had been choosing from. It was the only suit here, and Gerda looked wistfully at it.
"Take that one, Malcolm," she said. "It will fit you. It was one of my father's--and I had a fancy that Thorwald would take it to him in Asgard, for he lies on the Swedish shore, and it might not be laid in the mound with him. Now you shall bear it to him, and he will greet you."
"I am not worthy to wear it," I stammered. "It is too sacred to you."
"No," she answered. "I ask you to do so, and I think you will not refuse."
Now I saw in the face of Dalfin that he thought it right that I should take the mail, and so I did. We went with the three suits and the helms back to Bertric, and so put them on, Gerda helping us, and I taking the tiller when it was Bertric's turn. Even in this little while one could see that Heidrek's leading ship had gained on us.
It was more than good to be in the mail of a free man and warrior once more. Dalfin shook himself, as a man will to settle his byrnie into place, and his eyes shone, and he leapt on the deck, crying:
"Now am I once more a prince of Maghera, and can look a foe--aye, and death, in the face joyfully. My thanks, dear lady, for this honour!"
Then he broke into a wild song in his own tongue, and paced the deck as if eager for the coming of Heidrek, and the promised crash of the meeting ships. And as suddenly he stopped, and looked at his hands.
"Faith," he said, "I thought the song went amiss. It is the song of the swinging swords--and never a sword have I--nor either of us."
Gerda laughed at him. It seemed that the pleasure of her champions, as she called us, in the war gear pleased her.
"Swords you shall have," she said at once. "I did but wait."
"For what, lady?" asked Dalfin.
She smiled and reddened somewhat, looking down on the deck.
"One can hardly be mistaken as to whether a man is used to war gear," she said. "Now I see you three--prince, jarl, and thane--as I might have known you to be at first. Forgive me for the little doubt."
Seeing what sort of scarecrows we must have been, we did not wonder at all that she had doubted. And, after all, not every day are three men of rank of different lands to be found adrift in an open boat, simply as it had come about in our case.
"It would have been a wonder if you had not doubted," said Bertric. "We have naught to forgive, and, indeed, have held ourselves honoured that you took our words as you did. In all truth, I do feel myself again in mail, and so must Malcolm."
I did, and said so. There are thoughts knit up in the steel ringwork which are good for a man.
"The swords are in yon chamber," Gerda said quickly, not being very willing, mayhap, to speak more in this wise. "I will ask Malcolm, for he is a Norseman, to come and choose them."
That was the last thing I wished, but would not say so. Without a word I went forward with her to the penthouse, and took down the three loose timbers again. The dim chamber seemed very still, and across its dimness the shafts of sunlight--which came through the chinks in the rough timbering of walls and roofs--shifted and glanced as if alive, as the ship swayed. One golden ray lit on the still face of the old king, and it was almost as if he smiled as we stood in the doorway. Gerda saw it, and spoke softly, stepping to the side of the bier.
"It shall please you to arm these warriors who will seek Valhalla with you, my grandfather. You were wont to arm the friends who would be ready to fall at your side."
A wave lifted the ship and swung her, and the shaft of light swayed across the chamber, sparkling on the arms which hung from the timbers. It lit up the hilt of a gold-runed sword for a moment, and then was gone.
"That is for you, Malcolm the Jarl," Gerda said. "Take it. Then choose for the others."
Then I unhelmed and stooped and went into the chamber, and took down the sword which the sunbeam had shown me. It hung from its own baldric with an axe and a round shield. Gerda bade me take the shield also, and I did so. Now I could see well enough to choose for the others, for the dimness was but the change from the sunshine outside on deck. I took a lighter weapon for Dalfin, and a heavy, short sword for Bertric, and with them shields. No long choice was needed, for not one of the weapons but was of the best. So I turned, and came forth from the chamber, and gave the weapons to Gerda, while I closed it once more. I think she bade the king farewell at that time.
"You have my father's sword also," she said to me softly. "I think that if you have but a little time to wear these things which he loved, you will not dishonour them."
She gave me no time to say more, and I do not know what I could have answered, save that I hoped that I might be worthy. Little chance of much fighting were we likely to have--and yet there was just a hope that we might fall in a ring of foes on the deck of the pirate.
Gerda buckled on those weapons for us. And then Dalfin must end his song, and it was good to see and hear him, if only he and myself understood the words. But Heidrek crept up to us all the time, if we forgot him for the moment under the spell of the wild song.
The clear voice ceased, for the song was ended. A dimness crept across the decks, and the sail shivered and filled again. Bertric looked up at the sky and out to windward, and his face changed.
"What is it?" asked Gerda anxiously.
"Running into a fog bank," he said. "Look ahead."
One could not see it. Only it was as if the ring of sea to windward had of a sudden grown smaller. Heidrek was not a mile astern of us, and still his ships were in bright sunshine. Even as we watched them, a grayness fell on them, and then they grew dim.
Then the fog closed in on us, and swallowed us up, and drifted across the decks so thickly that we could barely see from gunwale to gunwale, damp, and chilling. Still, the wind did not fail us, hurrying the fog before it.
"We must hold on until we know if this is but a bank of fog, or if it is everywhere," Bertric said. "What say you, Malcolm?"
I thought a while, knowing the cold sea fogs of the north pretty well.
"Heidrek will be in it by this time," I said. "Fog bank or more, I would about ship and run back past him with the wind. If it is a bank, we shall go with it, and he must lose us. If it is more, we can get on our southward course in it shortly, and if he sights us again, he will have all his work to catch us, for his men will be tired of rowing."
"What if the fog lifts directly?"
"We shall be little worse off than now--and we shall be heading down on Heidrek before he knows it."
"Aye," he answered, "with way enough on us to sink him offhand, and maybe take this ship clear through his. Get to the sheets, you and Dalfin, and we will chance it."
Bertric luffed, and we hauled the tack amidships. Then he paid off to the wind, and we slacked off the sheet with the help of a turn of its fall round the great cleat of the backstay. The wash of the waves round the bows ceased, and there was only the little hiss of the water as the sea broke alongside of us. It always seems very silent for a little while when one puts about for a run after beating to windward.
"Listen," said Bertric under his breath, "we shall hear Heidrek directly on the starboard bow somewhere. Pray Heaven he has not changed his course, or we shall hit him! He will not have luffed any more, for certain."
"Suppose he thinks that we have tried some such trick as this?" said Dalfin.
Bertric shook his head.
"He thinks we shall go on as we steered, making for the Norway shore. It is likely that he will think that we may have paid off a bit, for the sake of speed. Even if he did think we were likely to do this, what could he do? He cannot tell, and to put about and run on the chance would be to give away his advantage if we had held on after all. Listen!"
"I hear him," said Gerda, who was leaning on the gunwale with parted lips, intent on catching any sound.
The sound she had heard came nearer and nearer as we slid silently through the water into the blinding fog. It was like a dull rumble at first, and then as a trampling, until the roll and click of the long, steadily pulled oars was plain to us. The ship was passing us, and not more than an arrow flight from us. It seemed almost impossible that we should not see her.
Suddenly, there came a sharp whistle, and the roll of the oars ceased. Gerda started away from the gunwale and looked at us, and Dalfin set his hand on his sword hilt. It was just as if they had spied us, and I half expected to see the tall stemhead of the ship come towering through the thickness over our rail. There was nothing to tell us how fast we were going through the water, and we seemed still. I saw Bertric smiling.
"Shift of rowers," he said in a whisper, and Gerda's pale face brightened. Then I heard Heidrek rating someone, and I heard, too, the tramp and rattle of the men who left and came to the oars; but by the time the steady pull began again we had passed the ship by a long way, and lost the sound almost as soon as it came. Then there was silence once more, and the strain was past. Our course would take us clear of the other ship by a mile or more.
So we held on for half an hour, and the fog grew no thinner. Overhead, the sun tried to shine through it, but we could not see him, and still the wind drifted us and the fog together, and the decks grew wet and the air chill with the damp which clung round us.
Gerda sat very still for a long time after the last sounds were heard. But at last she rose up and shivered.
"Let me go to my awning," she said unsteadily. "I have seen three brave men look death in the face, and they have not flinched--I will never wear mail or sword again."
Then she fled forward, and something held us back from so much as helping her to cross that barrier. We knew that she was near to breaking down, and no wonder.
There fell an uneasy silence on us when she was within the shelter of the awning and its folds closed after her. Dalfin broke it at last.
"Well," he said, "I suppose that you two seamen know which way you are steering in the fog--but it passes me to know how."
Bertric and I laughed, and were glad of the excuse to do so. We told him that we steered by the wind, which had not changed. But now we had only one course before us. We must needs head south and try to make the Shetlands. Eastward we might not sail for fear of Heidrek, and westward lay the open ocean, Still, we held on for half an hour, and then, still shrouded in the white folds of the fog, headed south as nearly as we might judge.
In an hour the wind fell. The fog darkened round us as the sun wore to the westward, and the sea went down until only the long ocean swell was left, lifting the ship easily and slowly without breaking round her. There was naught to be done; but, at least Heidrek could not find us.
"There may be days to come like this," Bertric said, with a sort of groan. "What is to be planned for him who lies yonder?"
Now, I told them what Gerda had said to me, and I could see that Bertric was relieved to hear her thought of a sea burial.
"I had thought of the same," he said at once. "It is not fitting that here the old warrior should be drifted to and fro, well nigh at the mercy of the wind, with the chances of a lee shore or of folk who make prey of hapless seafarers presently. A sea burial such as many a good man of our kin has found will be best. I could ask no more for myself."
"And what of the treasure?" I asked. "Shall that go with him?"
"It is Gerda's, and she must say," he answered. "Yet she will need it."
Then Dalfin said:
"It will be hard to tell her so, but she must not part with it. It stands between her and want, if it may be saved for her. Yet, if it was the will of the old king that it should be set in his grave, I do not know how we can persuade her to keep it. He is not here to say that he does not need it; for he has learnt that now."
I glanced at the penthouse with the thought of that strange vision of mine. I could not tell my comrades of it, but I thought that, if need was, I might tell Gerda presently. I said in answer to Dalfin that he was right, and that we must set the matter thus before Gerda.
"The sooner the better," said Bertric. "Do you go and speak with her. We must not let the night pass without this being done, as I think"