"Bertric," I said quietly, and in the Norse, "the bow oar is failing. Pull easy on your side for a little."
He did so, and the enemy crept nearer.
"Half a mile more," said Gerda. "Only half a mile--and we can hail the ships."
Bertric looked back, and his face brightened.
"We may do it yet," he said; "and they are English-built ships."
Now I cried to Phelim in the Gaelic that we had but a half mile more, and I felt the flagging oar of Fergus take up the work afresh, with a swifter swirl of the water round its blade as he pulled, while Phelim muttered words in Latin which doubtless were of thanks. I heard him name one Clement, who, as I have heard since, is the patron saint of seamen. The boat leapt and quivered again as she fled toward safety.
Now I had looked to see the pursuers give up the chase as we neared the ships, but they did not, and a cold fear came over me. Maybe these were known friends of Heidrek's. Then I thought that if so they might as well leave the matter to be ended by them. We should be helpless directly if so. But it seemed rather that they quickened the pace. They would not share the treasure with anyone.
There was a sound as of a groan from the bows, and the boat swung aside before Gerda could meet her with the helm. An oar flashed past me on a wave, and Phelim shipped his oar with a smothered cry. Fergus had fainted at last. I heard the sharp howl of delight from the men astern as they saw that, but Bertric and I never ceased pulling.
And suddenly Gerda's face lit up with a new hope, and she pointed to the ships and cried to us to look.
"The leading ship is heading for us," she said breathlessly. "She has just paid off from the wind and is coming swiftly."
Another moment and she cried that they had run up somewhat red to the masthead, and at that Bertric called to me, and he ceased pulling. He turned on the thwart and looked, and his eyes gleamed in his pale face. Then he rose up and set his hands to his mouth, and sent a great hail to the ship:
"Ahoy! Hakon Haraldsson, ahoy! Hakon! Hakon!"
The ship was near enough for her men to hear that. I saw a man on her high bows lift his hand in the silent answer of the seaman who hears and understands a hail, and I saw a red shield, blazoned with a golden lion, at the masthead. Then Bertric sat down and laughed as if he could not cease.
"It is Hakon, Athelstane's foster son, on the way to win Norway for himself. Alfred taught us how to build ships like that."
We laid in the oars now and watched the pursuers. They had not the least chance of overhauling us before we were picked up by the ship, and they knew it. Still they were pulling after us, and one of the men in the stern hailed once or twice, making signs that we were to be taken by the ships. I thought that the figure seemed like that of Asbiorn, as I had seen him on the stern after I went overboard, but I could not be sure. Our boat slipped along fast, and his crew were not hurrying so much at this time.
I looked back at the ships, and they were worth a second glance. I had never seen such splendid vessels, for they were higher and longer than any which sailed our northern waters, while their lines were clean cut and graceful as those of the little ship which had brought us hither so well--Thorwald's favourite cutter.
Now Bertric lifted up his head, for he had been finding his breath again after that last despairing pull, and he looked to the westward and pointed without a word. Round a great point which barred the view beyond the island came two ships, and their sails were brown. They were Heidrek's, and no doubt were looking for their boat. The men left on the island saw them at about the same time, and lit a fire to show where they were. They had not gone from the sand hills yet.
"Heidrek is running into danger," Bertric said grimly.
The enemy hailed again at that moment. I could hear now that they cried to the ship that we had their boat--that we were Irish knaves who had stolen it and all that was in it. It is quite likely that they honestly thought us such, but never wondered why Irishry should seek refuge with these ships.
Now the leading vessel was close on us. I could hear the hum of the wind in her broad sail and rigging, and the wash of the waves round her sharp bows. Then a tall young man came and looked at us from her high foredeck, and lifted his hand. The ship luffed and waited for us. As we slid alongside into the still water under her lee, he cried to us:
"Who knows Hakon, and calls on him?"
"An old comrade--Bertric of Lyme."
Hakon stared at Bertric under his hand for a moment, and laughed.
"And so it is!" he cried. "Well met, old friend; but what is that boat astern of you, and why were you in so desperate a hurry?"
"Needs must hurry when the worst pirate in the North Sea is after one. We have escaped once before from him--from Heidrek the Seafarer."
One or two men were beside Hakon, watching us curiously. One whistled when he heard that name, and spoke quickly to Hakon, who nodded. Then a line came uncoiling in the air from the ship to us, and across the huddled body of his comrade Phelim caught it, while I lowered the sail. He made it fast in the bows, and then bent over his brother, setting him more easily against the thwart. He had not dared shift his place to help him before, lest he should alter the sailing trim of the boat, and that must have been hard for him.
The men took the line astern, and the great ship paid off from the wind. We swung astern of her, wondering what this meant. I could hear Heidrek's men shouting, but I could not see how near they were, for the ship hid them.
The next moment told me. I saw, as I looked past the long black side of the ship, the bow of the boat come into view. A man stood up in it with his hand stretched out in a strange way, and I heard a yell. Then the boat was gone, and past us drifted oars and crushed planking, and a helm floating like an upturned bowl. She had been run down.
Close by the bows of our boat a head came to the surface, and the face was turned to us. I knew it, for it was that of Asbiorn Heidreksson, and in a flash I minded that once I said that the day might come when I could repay him for letting us go--saving our lives, rather. He had his full mail on him, and was sinking, when I gripped his hair and held it. Then he got his hands on the gunwale and stared at us.
Gerda had hidden her face in her hands, for he was not the only one who had been swept past us. There were still cries, which rang in my ears, from men who were sinking as we passed on.
Bertric felt the boat lurch, and looked round. He saw the head above the gunwale, and the clutching hands on it, and reached for his oar.
"Hold hard!" I cried, staying the thrust which was coming. "It is Asbiorn!"
He dropped the oar again with a short laugh.
"Lucky for him that so it is," he said; "but I am glad you saved him."
"It is not to be supposed that I am welcome," said Asbiorn, mighty coolly; "but on my word I did not know it was you whom I was chasing. You ought to be in Shetland. Now, if you think this a mistake, I will let go."
"Well," said Bertric, "you are the only man of your crews whom we could make welcome. Get to the stern and we will help you into the boat."
He shifted his hands along the gunwale and we got him on board, while Gerda looked on in a sort of silent terror at all that had happened in that few minutes. There was a row of faces watching us over the rail of the ship by this time, and now Hakon came aft.
"Why," he said, "you have a lady with you. I had not seen that before. We will get you alongside."
So it came to pass that in five minutes more we were on the deck, and some of Hakon's men were helping Phelim to get his still-swooning brother on board. There were a dozen men of rank round us at once, with Hakon at their head. There were not so many warriors to be seen as one might have expected, but all were picked men and well armed.
As for Hakon himself, I have never seen a more handsome young man. He was about seventeen at this time, and might have been taken for three years older, being tall and broad of shoulder, with the wonderful yellow hair and piercing eyes of his father Harald, whom he was most like, as all men knew. It was certain that he did the great English king, Athelstane, who had fostered him, credit, for he was in all ways most kinglike even now.
He took off the blue cap he wore as he went to meet Gerda, and greeted her with all courtesy, asking to know her name. She answered him frankly, though it was plain that the gaze of all the strange faces disquieted her.
"I am Gerda, granddaughter of that Thorwald who was a king in the south lands in the time of your great father, King Hakon," she said. "I have been wrecked here with these friends, who have cared for me, and now will ask for your help."
"They will tell me all the story," said Hakon. "Now, I hold that I am lucky, for Thorwald has ever been a friend of our house."
"Thorwald is dead," she answered in a low voice, which shook somewhat. "I am the only child of the line left."
"Why, then, I am still happy in being hailed as king by Queen Gerda here and now.
"It is a good omen, friends, is it not?"
He turned to the nobles round us with a bright smile, and they laughed and said that none could be better. But one, a very tall man, older than most there, spoke to one of the courtmen hard by, and sent him aft with some message. Then he went to Gerda and asked if she did not remember him.
"You were a little thing, though, when I came with your father to Thorwald's hall," he said; "mayhap you do not recall it, but we were good friends then for a week or two. You have changed less than I."
Gerda looked shyly at him, and at last smiled.
"I remember," she said. "You are Thoralf the Tall."
Now, from aft came two ladies hastily, brought by Thoralf's message, from the after cabin under the raised deck of the ship, and the little throng parted to let them reach us. One was the wife of this Thoralf, and the other his daughter, and they looked pityingly at Gerda as they came, with all kindness in their faces. And when the elder lady saw that she seemed distressed at all the notice paid her, she took Gerda into her arms as might a mother, and so drew her away with her to her own place gently, with words of welcome. And that was a load off my mind, for I knew that Gerda was in good hands at last.
Hakon watched them go gravely, and then turned to Bertric and greeted him as an old and most welcome friend, and so Bertric made me known, and I also was well greeted. Then Hakon turned to Asbiorn, who stood by, watching all this quietly.
"Who is this prisoner of yours, Malcolm?" he asked. "You have not taken his sword from him, as I see."
"He is Asbiorn Heidreksson, King Hakon," I answered. "I cannot call him a prisoner, for I owe my own life to him, and freedom also. He saved me from his father's men."
"And let you go thereafter. I see," answered Hakon.
"Do you know aught of this Viking, Earl Osric?"
This was the chief to whom Hakon had spoken before the boat was run down. He had told the young king that which had led him to crush her as if her crew were vermin, and wondered to see us save one of them.
"I have heard much of Heidrek, seeing that I am a Northumbrian," he said. "The track of that ruffian lies black on our coasts; but I have not heard of his son. We have naught against his name, at least."
Then said Bertric: "I sailed as a thrall with yon ships for six months or more, and have naught against Asbiorn here. He is the only one of all the crew who follow Heidrek of whom I could say as much."
"Faith!" said Asbiorn, with a grave face, "it is somewhat to have no sort of character at all, as it seems."
Hakon looked at him and laughed a little.
"Take service with me and make a good name for yourself," he said. "It is a pity to see a good warrior who will do a kindly turn to a captive naught but a wolf's-head Viking. I have need of courtmen."
"I might do worse," he answered; "but hither comes my father, and I have no mind to fight him at the very beginning of my service."
Hakon looked at the two ships, which were nearing us fast, though we were still close-hauled, as when the boat was brought alongside.
"I had no mind to fight him," said Hakon.
"It is not his way to let a ship pass without either toll or battle," Asbiorn said bluntly.
"Why, then, go forward and get dried," Hakon said. "We will speak of this presently, after we have met your ships."
Thereon Asbiorn ungirt his sword and gave it to me solemnly.
"It is in my mind that this might get loose when our men come over the side," he said. "Better that I am your captive for a while."
With that he walked forward, and Hakon looked after him with a smile that was somewhat grim. Then someone touched my arm, and there was Father Phelim, with a face full of trouble. With him were two men, dressed in somewhat the same way as himself. They were Hakon's English chaplains, and they could not understand his Erse.
"Malcolm," he said, "what of our brethren on the island? There are the wild Danes yet there--on the shore. I can see them."
Hakon asked with some concern what was amiss with the hermit, and I told him, adding that they had only too much reason to fear the Danes. And when he heard he turned to Earl Osric, who seemed to be his shipmaster, and asked him to send a boat with men enough to take these Danes, if possible, and anywise to see that the hermits came to no harm.
"If we are to fight this Heidrek," the earl said doubtfully, "you will want us all. We are not over-manned."
Nor were they. The ship pulled five-and-thirty oars a side, but had no more than two men to each, instead of the full fighting number, which should be three--one to row, one to shield the rower, and one to fight or relieve. King Athelstane had given Hakon these ships and sailing crews, but could not find Norsemen for him. Those who were here had been picked up from the Norse towns in Ireland, where many men of note waited for his coming. Eric, his half brother, was not loved in Norway.
Presently I learned that Hakon was steering westward thus in order to find that ship which we had seen when we were wrecked. It belonged to some friend of his cause.
But Hakon would have the hermits protected, and Osric manned our boat and sent it away, bidding the men hasten. They had a two-mile sail to the island now, but the Danes stood and watched the coming of the boat as if unconcerned. Doubtless they had not seen what happened to their comrades, and thought they were returning.
"Tell me about these ships," Hakon said to Bertric when the boat had gone. "Is there to be fighting, as this Asbiorn says?"
"Heidrek will not fight without surety of gain," my comrade answered. "His ships are full of men, but he cannot tell that you are under-manned. He can see that he must needs lose heavily in boarding, for you have the advantage in height of side. I doubt if he will chance it. There is an Irish levy waiting ashore for him, and he has not faced that--or has been driven off."
"Rid the seas of him," growled Earl Osric. "Get to windward of him and run his ships down, and have done."
"There is not a seaman in the North Sea who will not thank you if you do so," said Bertric. "Those two ships are a pest."
"See to it, Osric," answered Hakon.
Then he glanced at us and saw our arms lying at our feet, for his men had brought them from the boat.
"I was going to offer to arm you, but there is no need. Bertric and I have drawn sword together against Danes before now, but I do not know whether Malcolm may not owe some fealty to Eric, my half brother. I am going to try to turn him out of Norway--as men have begged me to do--and I would sooner have you on my side than against me."
"Thanks, King Hakon," I answered. "I have owned no king as yet. My sword is yours to command; but first I have promised to see Queen Gerda into safety, at least, in Norway, if her home may not be won again for her."
Hakon laughed, as if pleased enough.
"I think you have done the first already," he said. "As for the winning her home afresh, who knows if you may not be in a fair way to do so from this moment? It is likely."
"Hakon does not forget the friends of the house of Harald," Thoralf the Tall said. "Tell him all the tale presently, for there seems to be one, and be content."
"It would be strange if I were not," I answered.
Hakon held out his hand to me and I took it, and thereby pledged myself to help set him on the Norse throne. It was a hazardous, and perhaps hopeless errand on which he was setting forth, but I did not stay to weigh all that. I knew that at least I had found a leader who was worth following, and who had claimed friendship with Gerda from the first.
Maybe there was another thought mixed up with all this. I will not say that it might not have had the first place. Gerda was in Hakon's care now, and I would not be far from her.
Now, there was the bustle of clearing ship for action. Already it was plain that Heidrek meant fighting, if he could make no gain of these ships elsewise, for we could see that his men had hung the war boards--the shields--along the gunwales. He would see the same here directly, and make up his mind either to fight or fly. As we armed ourselves, Bertric and I had some thoughts that he might choose the latter.
Now, I would not have it thought that I had forgotten Fergus, who had spent himself so bravely for us. The two English chaplains and Phelim were caring for him forward, and I had seen that he was himself again, so far as coming to his senses is concerned. Now we went and spoke to him, with all thanks for his help.
He smiled and shook his head.
"The flesh is very weak," he answered. "Now tell me if I may not go back to the cells again. This crowd of men bewilders me after the quiet. I am not fit now for the open world."
"In truth you may, father," I answered, somewhat surprised, for I had not a thought but that both would do so. "We shall not take you far. You will be landed when we go to take up the queen's treasure."
"Then we will ask the superior to send me alone," said Phelim. "You mind that we deemed that the end of our life here had come. Now, all is safe once more, for this time at least."
"I do not think that we shall go to the court of the Irish king now," said I, thinking that they were sent with us thither. "King Hakon, who is a friend of the queen's, is bound for Norway."
There that talk ended, for Hakon came forward to watch the enemy, and called us to go to the raised foredeck with him. But he spoke to the hermits in passing, and though they could not understand him, yet they might see that his words were kindly.
We were going to windward of Heidrek fast. His ships had tried to weather on us, but had failed. Neither side had taken to the oars, for he saw that we had the advantage, and we had no need to do so, therefore. It was a fair sailing match.
But now Heidrek saw what sort of ships he had to deal with, and he did not like the look of them, being near enough to note their height of side and strength of build. It is likely that, like myself, he saw at last what manner of shipbuilder that Alfred was of whom we had heard such tales. I had ever been told, when shipmen gathered in our hall, that the ships of the west Saxons were framed with all the best points of the best ships yet built, with added size and power, and now I knew that all I had heard was but truth. Also I minded how Bertric had laughed when I said that most likely Vikings had taken these vessels, and understood why.
Heidrek saw that he had no chance if there was to be a fight, and acted accordingly. Had he been an honest Viking, cruising for ransom from coast towns, and toll from cargo ships as he met them, or ready to do some fair fighting for any chief who had a quarrel on hand, and needed a little more help toward the ending of it, no doubt he would have borne down on us and spoken with Hakon. Being what he was, with the smoke of the burning village of the harmless fishers rising black against the hills to prove the ways of his men; or else, being in no wise willing to let us hear of the treasure he had found at last, he did but take a fair look at the great ships, put his helm over, and fled down the coast westward whence he had come.
Asbiorn sat below the break of the foredeck, paying no heed to what went on. He had taken off his mail, and was drying it carefully with some cloths which Hakon's men had given him. I called down to him and told him what had happened.
"Best thing my father could have done," he growled, without looking up. "He does not take foolish risks, as a rule."
Hakon came down the short ladder which led to the maindeck and heard, and laughed. Then he went aft, and Asbiorn looked after him. Some order passed, and the men ran to the sheet and braces.
"Eh, but I am sorry for father," quoth Asbiorn. "Your friends are after him."
The ships paid off to the wind and followed Heidrek. At that time we were broad off the end of the island, and I saw it again as we had first sighted it from the sea in the gale. Phelim and Fergus stood looking at it and the swift boat which was nearing the beach, and I joined them. The good men were full of fears for their brethren, but the Danes were gathered quietly on the beach, watching the boat. There were five of them, and Hakon had sent eight men ashore.
The long reef showed up with a fringe of curling breakers over it, and the boat could not cross it. Hakon's men skirted it, and found some channel they could pass through, and by that time the Danes had learned their mistake, and were plainly in some wonderment as to what they had best do. They gathered together and followed the course of the boat, for I have no doubt they hoped to see one or two of Asbiorn's men with the strangers. Then the boat reached the beach, and they went to meet it.
Whereon was a sudden scattering, and some ran one way and some the other. One man stayed with the boat, and the rest chased the Danes into the sand hills, where we lost sight of them for the most part. Once or twice we spied men between them, and once I thought there was a fight on the slope of one of the nearest hills.
But before we passed beyond further view we knew that the Danes had been taken, for Hakon's men, some of whom wore scarlet cloaks and were easily to be known, came back to the shore, and drove their captives before them. Whereby we knew that the hermits were safe, and the two here gave thanks, almost weeping in their joy. The two English clergy came then, and led them forward to the dim cabin under the foredeck. Until they were sure that the island was to be in peace, neither Phelim nor Fergus would touch aught of food, and they needed it somewhat sorely.
Once we had settled down to that chase there was quiet on the decks, and the ship was on an even keel. The ladies came out of their cabin under the after deck and sat them down on a bench which ran across under the shelter of the bulkhead, and I saw Gerda with them. Thoralf's wife had cared for her, and had done it well, so that she seemed to be a very queen as she sat there with those two making much of her. The elder lady had known her as a child, for she had been in Thorwald's hall with Thoralf the Tall on that visit of which he spoke. The younger lady, whose name I knew afterward to be Ortrud, was of Gerda's age.
Presently it was plain that Gerda would have us speak to them, and we went and were made known to them, and after that we sat and told of our doings for half an hour. Thoralf's wife had naught but thanks to us for caring for Gerda, so that I was glad when Hakon joined us for a little while.
He went forward soon, taking us with him, and sought Asbiorn, who sat on the deck still scouring his wet arms and mail with the cloths the men had lent him. Hakon asked if he could tell anything of a large Norse ship which should have gone west some days ago. It was that which we had seen on the day of our wreck.
"I have heard of a ship which has gone to trade at Sligo," said Asbiorn. "It was in our minds to look for her ourselves presently. That is far to the westward, and if you are in any hurry, you may as well let my folk go, and follow her."
"No hurry at all," answered Hakon. "It seems that these ships of yours are too well known for me to overlook. My men say that I am sure to have to settle with Heidrek at some time, and I may as well do so here as on the Norway shore next summer. I shall be busy then, and Heidrek will have heard thereof. I am not busy just now."
"You will be when you overhaul the ships," said Asbiorn. "But they are of less draught than yours, and you may miss them yet. Round yon point is the Bann River, whence we came this morning."
Hakon turned away with a laugh, and watched the chase for a time. Then he went aft and sat him down by the steersman, with Earl Osric and Thoralf the Tall. Heidrek's ships were swift when before the wind, and these great vessels might not overhaul them until they had reached some shallow waters in the river mouth which Heidrek had already entered. But there waited Dalfin and the Irish levies, who would be gathered by this time in force.
Mayhap Heidrek would not chance being pent between two foes.
So that chase went on, and I wearied of watching it at last. Then Bertric and I went to Asbiorn, for we would ask concerning some things which had happened. Men were serving round the midday meal at the time, and we ate and talked. The first thing I asked him was what he had done with our ship.
"Sold her to one Arnkel in Norway, so to speak," he answered, with a grin. "He was the man who had to do with this treasure ship you picked up."
"Then you had some pact with Arnkel?"
"More or less," he said; "but there was a deal of chance in the matter. In the gale I was outsailed, for your ship is not speedy, as you know. The other two took refuge among the islands on the Norse shore, and there heard of the great mound laying of Thorwald which was to be. The ship had passed in the dawn of that morning, and had not far to go. Whereon my father sent a message to Arnkel, whom he knew, to say that he was at hand, and landed and fell on him. As it turned out, he had better have taken his ships, for Thorwald's folk set the ship adrift to save her from pillage. It seems that they meant her to burn, but blundered that part. There was nothing to fight for then, so they ceased. I came to the islands and there had news of my father, and followed him. On the way I passed Thorwald's ship at a distance, and was afraid of her, she seeming to be a fully-armed war vessel. So I let her pass."
"Then you brought the news to Arnkel that she was not burning?"
"So it was. Whereon he would have us sail at once in chase of her on his account. As we would not do that, and he would not let us go on our own, there was a small fight. In the end Arnkel's men manned your ship and we sailed in company, the bargain being that the treasure was to fall to the finder. We thought we might have little difficulty in overhauling the vessel, and should have had none if it had not been for you. Had you picked up a crew of fishers?"
"No; we managed somehow by ourselves."
"I always told my father that Bertric was the best seaman we had in all our crowd," Asbiorn said frankly. "You did well that time."
Then he told us how they had searched for us much in the way which we had thought likely, and so at last had heard of a wreck when they reached the river Bann.
"Asbiorn," I said, "did you know that there was a lady on board this ship which was to be burnt?"
"No, on my word," he said, starting somewhat. "So that is where the young queen was hidden, after all? There was wailing when her men found that she was missing, and they said that she must have gone distraught in her grief, and wandered to the mountains. How was she left on board?"
"Arnkel put her there," I answered.
"So that explains his way somewhat. He seemed to want that ship caught, and yet did not. When we did sail, he steered wide of the course she took, and too far to the northward."
Then his face grew very black, and he growled: "Bad we are, but not so bad as Arnkel, who would have men think him an honest man. Now, if it were but to get in one fair blow at him for this, it were worth joining Hakon. I take it that he will hear your tale--and maybe mine."
"And the lady's also," Bertric answered. "Well--wait until you know what befalls your ships."
"And my father," answered Asbiorn, getting up and looking ahead. "To say the truth, I am not altogether sorry of an excuse to leave that company, which is bad, though I say it. Yet he was driven out of his own home by his foes, and thereafter his hand has been against all men. It is the crew he has gathered which I would leave, not him."
We had not gained on the two pirate ships. Now they were rounding that headland whence they had come, and were altering their course. Asbiorn said that they were making for the river mouth, and half an hour thereafter we opened it out and saw that Heidrek was far within it, heading landward. The beacon fires blazed up afresh as the watchers knew that he had returned, and presently each fire had a second alongside it. Men thought that Heidrek had brought us to help him raid the land.
There were Norsemen on board, men from Dublin, who knew the mouth of the river as well as need be, and better than Heidrek, who had been into it but this once before. One of them piloted the ships after him, for Hakon meant to end the business even as he had said, here and now, if he could, and sent for Bertric that he might tell him more of the enemy. He heard somewhat of our story at this time, we sitting on the after deck with him, but he said little about it then.
I suppose that we stood into the river over the falling tide for five miles or more. Then Heidrek took to his oars, finding that he was chased in earnest, and Hakon did so likewise at once. It was a beautiful river, wide and clear, with great, green hills on either side, and thick forests at their feet. But never a boat on its waters, or man on its shores did we see. Only from each hilltop the smoke of the war beacons rose and eddied.
The channel narrowed presently as we held on, going with all caution. Then we opened out a wide valley, down which ran a fair stream, and there we saw the Irish at last. High up they were, crossing the valley in a column of black-garbed warriors which seemed endless. There was no sparkle of mail among them, but here and there a speck of light flashed from an axe blade or spear point, to tell us that they were armed men. They were keeping pace with Heidrek's ships by crossing from point to point, and how long they may have watched him and us from the forests I cannot say.
Now the river took a sharp bend, and I heard the pilot say to his mate that Heidrek had better have a care at this stage of tide, while Asbiorn, forward, was watching intently. The tide was almost at its lowest by this time, and Heidrek's hindmost ship was about half a mile ahead of us. Hakon meant to pen them in some stretch of the river which the pilot knew, and there deal with them. It was said to be a deep reach with a bar at its head, beyond which no ship might pass until high water.
Suddenly there came a shout from the men forward, and the pilot cried to the oarsmen to cease rowing. Heidrek's second ship had gone aground. We could see her crew trying to pole her off, and Hakon asked if we could reach her.
"Not by five score yards," answered the pilot; "but see what happens."
I suppose that he knew the Irish ways, for he had hardly spoken when somewhat did happen. Out of the fringe of thicket and forest along the bank of the river swarmed the Irish, with yells and howls which reached us plainly, and flung themselves into the water to wade out to the ship. The bank was black with them, and the light from their axes overhead shimmered and sparkled in a wave of brightness. The water was full shoulder deep round the ship, but they did not heed that. Nor did they pay any attention to us, for we could not reach them, and they knew it. They would deal with us presently in one way or another. Meanwhile, this ship was at their mercy.
Heidrek's other ship held on round the bend, and may have been out of sight of her consort before she grounded, as the river bent with its channel close under the banks. At all events, she did not return to help.
"This affair is off our hands," said Hakon. "Best not meddle therewith, even if we could. It is a great fight."
So it was, for the Danes fought well. The sides of the ship were high above the wading men, and the spears flashed out between the war boards, and the axe and sword were at work across the gunwales. Yet the Irish never fell back from their swarming attack, and their cries never ceased. One or two wounded men floated, paddling with their hands, down past us, and hurled curses and defiance at us also. Phelim and Fergus cried to them to forbear, for we were friends, but they did not heed them, and passed, to reach the shore below us as they might. We did not watch them.
For now the Irish had borne down the defence amidships, where the run of the gunwales was lowest. The sheer weight of them as they clambered, one over the other, on board, listed the ship over, and made the boarding easier for those who followed. The wild Danish war shout rose once or twice, and then it was drowned by the Irish yell. After that there was a sudden silence, for the fighting was over.
Then the victors leapt out of the ship and went ashore as swiftly as they had come, and the forest hid them. The ship was hard and fast aground now, and we pulled up abreast of her slowly, having no mind to share her fate. Whether the Irish took any of her crew with them as captives I do not know, but I saw her decks, and it seemed hardly possible. So terrible a sight were they, that I feared lest Gerda should in any way see it. But the doors of the cabin had been shut, doubtless lest the fighting should fray the ladies.
"Will you venture farther, King Hakon?" asked the pilot.
"We will take one ship farther," he said. "The other shall bide here, and see that this ship is not burnt by these wild folk. Mayhap we shall want her."
Thoralf laughed at that. "We have no men to man her withal," he said.
"We have men to sail her to Norway, and there wait the men to fight for us," Hakon answered gaily. "We shall meet no foes on the high seas, and we have met a queen whose men will hail us as their best friends."
Thoralf shrugged his shoulders and laughed. "None can say that you fare forward sadly, Hakon."
"This is the worse of the two ships," Bertric said. "The other is Heidrek's own. He is not here. Asbiorn yonder commanded this."
"Asbiorn is in luck today," Earl Osric said, nodding toward those terrible decks.
But Asbiorn stood on the foredeck with his back to that which he had looked on, biting the ends of his long moustache, and pale with rage. I did not wonder thereat.
Now Osric hailed the other ship and bade her anchor in the stream while we went on. The pilot said that we could safely do so, and that the next reach was the one of which he had spoken as a trap. Then his comrade went into the bows with a long pole, sounding, and so we crept past the stranded vessel, and into the most lovely reach of river I had ever seen. It was well nigh a lake, long and broad, between the soft hills and forest-clad shores, and the water was bright and clear as glass beneath our keel, so that I saw a great silver salmon flash like an arrow past the ship as we held on. There was a village at the head of the reach, and men swarmed in it like angry bees round a hive's mouth. Only the long black ship, which still pulled slowly away from us, and the fiercely-burning fires on every hilltop spoilt the quiet of the place.
"Now it is a question whether the Irish or we take Heidrek," said Hakon. "It is plain that his time has come, one way or the other. On my word, I am almost in the mind to hail him and bid him yield to us to save himself from these axes."
I believe that so Hakon would have done, but that the chance never came. And that was the doing of Heidrek himself, or of his crew. What madness of despair fell on those pirates I cannot say, but Asbiorn has it that they went berserk as one man at the last, as the wilder Vikings will, when the worst has to be faced.
The Irish swarmed at the upper end of this reach, as I have said, and those who had dealt with the other ship were coming fast along the shore to join them. There must have been five hundred of them in all, if not more. The river beyond the broad reach narrowed fast, and one could see by the broken water that there was no passing upward any farther until the tide was at its height. But before the village was a long sloping beach, on which lay two or three shapeless black skin boats, as if it was a good landing place with deep water up to the shore. Above the village, on the shoulder of the near hill, was an earthwork, and some tents were pitched within its ring. It was the gathering-place to which Dalfin had gone this morning, and no doubt his father, Myrkiartan the King, was there.
There came a hoarse roar across the water to us, which rose and fell, and shaped itself into a song, so terrible that I saw Hakon's men grow restless as they heard it. The pirates were singing their war song for the last time.
Their ship swung round and headed for the village, and with all her oars going, and the white foam flying from her bows, and boiling round the oar blades, she charged the beach and hurled herself half out of the water as she reached it.
Over her bows went her men with a shout. Before the Irish knew that anything had happened, the last of the Danes were halfway up the little beach, and were forming up into a close-locked wedge, which moved swiftly toward the village even as it grew into shape.
"What are they about?" asked men of one another as they watched, breathless, from our decks.
"They will try to win to yonder camp," one said in answer, and that was likely, though what hope could lie in that none could say.
Now the wedge had reached the little green which was between the village and the shore. Before it lay the road hillward, steep and rough, and that was full of Irish.
Still the Irish held back. They looked to see our ship follow, no doubt, and would have all their foes ashore at once, lest we should make some flank attack in the heat of the fight. But the Danes moved onward steadily.
Then into the opening of the lane rode a man on a tall chestnut horse, and the Irish yelled and thronged to him as he leaped off it. It was Dalfin himself, as I saw when he was on foot. I suppose that he had managed to find this steed somewhere on the way, meeting with mounted men hurrying to the levy like himself most likely. If the fishers were yet with him I could not see. They were lost in the crowd round him.
Now Dalfin's sword went up, and the men shook themselves into some sort of order. A slogan rose, wild and shrill, and with the prince at their head they flung themselves on the Danes, lapping round them, so that they hid them from our sight. Only in the midst of the leaping throng there was a steady, bright cluster of helms, above which rose and fell the weapons unceasingly.
The Irish could not stay that wedge. It went on, cleaving its way through the press as a ship cleaves its way to windward through the waves, and after it had passed, there was a track of fallen men to tell of how it had fared. There were mail-clad men among that line of fallen, and those, of course, were not Irish. They, like Dalfin, would wear neither helm nor byrnie.
Slowly the Danes fought their way, uselessly to all seeming, away from the water and hillward. Without heeding the depth of the lane from the village, though the darts rained on them from its banks, they went on, and we lost sight of the fighting, though the black throng of warriors who could not reach their foe still swarmed between them and the village. Some of them came back and yelled at us from the shore, and once they seemed as if they were about to launch the two boats which lay on the strand for an attack on us. We had dropped a small anchor at this time.
Father Phelim saw that and came to me.
"Let me go to the young prince," he said; "I may be of use here. There will be trouble, unless someone tells the poor folk that these ships are friendly in very deed."
So we went to Hakon, and I told him what Phelim thought.
"The good father is right enough," he answered. "But how is he to get ashore unharmed? To send a boat would mean that it would be fallen on before it was seen who was in it."
"Let me swim," said Phelim stoutly.
"Maybe your tonsure might save you, father," said Hakon; "but I would not risk it. One cannot see much of a man in the water."
"Let me have one of the small boats--it can be launched from the far side of the ship--and I will row him ashore," I said. "I can speak the Gaelic."
Hakon considered. "Well," he said, "it may save endless trouble, and I do not see why you should not go. Phelim must stand up, and they will see him."
Thoralf would have us bide on board, letting Phelim stand on the bows and hail the shore. But that would have made trouble at once, for he would have been thought to be a captive. Then Earl Osric said that we might as well wait until we must, but Hakon and I and Phelim thought it easier to deal with the few men here than to wait until the rest returned, most likely flushed with the victory their numbers must needs give them. So in the end the small quarterboat was got over the side away from the village, and we took our place. Phelim was in the bows, and I set my helm at my feet, and had a dark cloak over my mail.
I pulled away from the ship and came round her stern in a wide sweep, in order not to seem at once as if we came from her. Then we went swiftly to the beach, and Phelim stood in the bows and signed to the men who stood along it. They saw what he was, and ran together to meet him, ceasing their cries to hear him. But I was not going to run more risk than I could help. So soon as we were twenty yards from the beach, I stopped pulling, and bade Phelim say his say.
He told them what was needful, and they growled at first, as if they could not believe him. Then he pointed to Fergus, who could be seen on board the ship, and they grew more satisfied. At last he told them that they must fetch Dalfin the Prince as soon as possible, for that we of the ship, or some of us, were those who had brought him back. And at last he told how there was a queen on board who had avenged the death of Dubhtach of the Spearshafts, and given back the torque which was lost.
That was all they needed to hear, for the torque had been seen, and word had passed round concerning it. The black looks faded, and there was naught but friendliness thereafter. Phelim asked for some leader, and a man stepped forward, and so took messages for Dalfin, and went across the green and up the lane with its terrible token of the fighting, that he might give them as soon as it was possible. Then we rowed back slowly, for it was not worthwhile to go ashore.
"Thanks," said Hakon, meeting us at the gangway. "That is well done. I will own that we had nearly run ourselves into a trap, and you have taken a load off my mind."
"No need to have stayed here," said Thoralf.
"Nay, but I want that ship, and now I think we may get her. I did but stay to see if it might be done."
I went and found Asbiorn, for somewhat was troubling me. The thought of the men who had been taken at the same time as myself, and must needs be in one or other of these ships.
"We took seven in all," he said. "Well, I had five. Two got away in Norway as soon as we fell out with Arnkel. One was too much hurt to be of use, and we left him there. My father took the other two, and they are yonder with him, I suppose. Those two who joined us of their own free will were in my ship. They were good men."
The roar of that unseen battle came across the still water to us without cease for well nigh half an hour. The first surety we had that it was over was in the dying away of the noise and the coming back to the shore of men from the front who were unwounded. After that we could see the black mass of Irish climbing the hill to the camp quietly, as if to tell their king that they had conquered. There was much shouting thence shortly after they had passed within the earthworks.
Then out of the gate of the camp, which was toward the river, came a train of men, the leaders of which were mounted, and after them swarmed the levies again. Dalfin was bringing his father to see the place of the fight, and to welcome us as friends. It was not altogether a new thing that Norseman and Dane should be known as foes to one another here on the Irish coast, which both wasted. The folk called us the "white" and the Danes the "black" Lochlannoch, and I cannot say which they feared the most, though the Danes were the most hated. But the Irish kings were not slow to take advantage of our rivalries when they could.
Asbiorn came to me as I stood and watched the king coming out of the camp. His face was white and drawn, but he was calm enough.
"Who was the tall, young chief on the red horse?" he asked me.
"Dalfin of Maghera, whom you let go with me," I answered.
"So I thought. Now, I think that he has avenged that doing on the Caithness shore for you. It is not likely that my father has not fallen; he was the leader of the wedge. There is no feud now between you and me."
"There is not," I answered. "I do not know that I had ever thought of one as possible."
"There would have been had Hakon slain Heidrek," he said.
The old law of the blood feud had its full meaning to him.
"If Heidrek had stayed his men to meet us, Hakon would have given him terms rather than that this should have been the end," I said.
"I know it, for I heard him say so. But there was a touch of the berserk in my father since his troubles came. This is not the first time he has tried to fall fighting against odds. He would not have listened to Hakon."
He sighed heavily, and then shook himself, so that his mail rattled. I took his sword from the bottom of a boat on deck in which I had set it, and gave it back to him, and he girt it on.
"So that is the end," he said. "And now I am my own man. Well, it was a better end than might have been had Hakon waited to see if we came raiding to Norway, as we most certainly should. Now I can follow Hakon with a light heart, and maybe come to be known as an honest man once more."
He said no other word, but turned and went forward. Bertric looked after him and smiled.
"Hakon has a good follower there," he said. "I will see that he is not overlooked. Heidrek was the son of a king in Jutland, and the good blood will show itself at last."
"You know Hakon well," I said, having seen that the greeting between those two was not of an every day sort, or as between prince and follower merely.
"We two were long together in Athelstane's court," he answered. "I also am Athelstane's foster son. He has many, according to our custom."
There was a rush made for the entrance to the village by the Irish who yet loitered on the shore staring at us. Some of them had carried away the wounded from off the green already, and now they left nothing to be seen of the track of the Danes across it. The king was coming, and Hakon sent word to the cabin that the ladies should come and see him. We lay perhaps three hundred paces from the shore, and there was no sight to fray them now.
So they and we went to the after deck and watched, and there was not long to wait. But it was Dalfin who came alone, and mounted on a fresh horse. It was plain that he had been fighting, because he had his left arm in a sling, though he managed his horse none the worse for that. He rode down to the beach in all haste, with a dozen men after him, and waved his hand to us. Then he dismounted, and the men put off the nearest boat, into which he stepped. In five minutes he was on the deck, and greeting us.
"This is wonderful," he said. "All this morning I have been crossing the hills to reach here in the nick of time. I heard no news, and I saw no messengers. I did not even know that Heidrek had sailed hence and returned. Now you are here first, and one comes with a message from you on the spot. The luck of the torque lingers with Queen Gerda even yet."
He bowed to her in his way, and she laughed, and looked for the gold. He had not it on him now.
"Have you parted with it already?" she asked.
"With the torque, but not with the luck, as it is to be hoped," he said. "You will see my father wearing it soon. It must needs be on the neck of the head of the realm."
"What were you while you wore it?" asked Thoralf, who knew the Irish ways.
"Deputy king for the time," answered Dalfin dryly. "And in a hurry to hand it over to my father therefore."
Now, as Dalfin had elder brothers, and there were chiefs almost as powerful as the king himself, that was to be expected. Otherwise, our friend might have had an evil time between them. Unless he had chosen to put himself at the head of the men whom he had just led to victory, and called to them to set the torque wearer on the throne. They would have done it, by reason of the magic of the thing; but there was no thought of treason in the mind of Dalfin, though many a king's son would have grasped at the chance, holding, perhaps, that as the sign of royalty had come to him, the throne must needs come with it, though his father held it.
Then he told us how the fight had gone--how Heidrek fell at the forefront of his steadfast wedge, and how but few men had been taken unhurt. Hakon asked what he would do with those who were taken.
"Give them to you," Dalfin answered carelessly, "if you will take them out of this land."
"I was going to ask for the ship," Hakon said.
"She is yours already. You drove her ashore, and the honour falls to us. We should only make a big fire of her and dance round it. Where is the other?"
"Your men took her round the bend below. There will be no more trouble with Heidrek. We have his son, Asbiorn, here with us."
"Give him to me," said Dalfin at once; "give him to me, King Hakon. I owe him much for a good turn he did me and Malcolm here, and I cannot see him a captive."
"Malcolm and Bertric have claimed him already," said Hakon, with a smile. "He is yonder, and has taken service with me, and I think I must keep him."
"That is all one could want for a man," answered Dalfin. "Now, I have to ask if you will go ashore and meet my father. He would also see my two comrades, and, if it may be so, Queen Gerda."
But Thoralf would not hear of the king going ashore, nor would Earl Osric. Gerda, too, shrank from facing the wild crowd of warriors and the sights of the field which she needs must see more or less of. Nor did Dalfin press the matter, for he knew that any little spark might be enough to rouse the wild Irish against the Norsemen. It was but a chance that Hakon had played the part of an ally. So in the end Bertric and I went ashore with Dalfin and the two hermits, as an embassy, so to speak, to represent Hakon.
We had a good welcome at all events, I suppose because men had heard the tale of our voyage and wreck, and maybe of how Hakon saved the hermits at last. Phelim had spoken thereof when he and I went ashore just now, and word passes swiftly without losing in the telling. They took us up through the village to the camp, and there a tent was pitched, large and open in front, as the court of the king.
The enclosure swarmed with men, wilder than any I had ever seen, and picketed rows of most beautiful horses were along one side.
It was a strange court. The nobles were dressed in black or dull saffron-coloured tunics, with great, shaggy cloaks of the natural hue of the wool they were made of, and but for the rich gold ornaments they wore on their arms and necks, there was little to choose between their attire and that of their followers. Not one wore mail, but their swords were good, and their spears heavy and well cared for. As for helms, they had no need of them. Their hair was amazingly thick and long, and was massed into great shocks on their heads, and might turn a sword stroke. Even Dalfin had twisted his up into somewhat like what it might have been before he left Ireland, lest he should be out of the fashion, and it spoilt his looks, though it would be many a long day before he had it properly matted together again. It was strange to see men tossing these shocks aside as they turned.
One other thing I noted at once, and that was how every man, high or low, carried a long-handled axe, bright and keen. It was the only weapon of some, and if they knew how to handle it, maybe they needed no other.
Among all that crowd there were only two men who seemed to shine in any magnificence. One was the old king, who sat waiting us in a great chair, clad in royal robes of scarlet and white and green which no Irish looms could have compassed, with a little golden crown on his white hair, and the torque round his neck. The other was a bishop in mitre and all state robes, wonderfully worked, and with a crosier in his hand. Not having seen the like before I wondered most at him, but his looks were kind and pleasant. Phelim told me who and what he was afterward.
Myrkiartan came from his throne to greet us as we passed through a lane of wild courtiers, who had looks which were not all of the most friendly for us. But we paid no heed to them, though I thought that Hakon was well advised when he sent us instead of coming himself. That first greeting was for us alone as the comrades of Dalfin, and it was a good welcome. Then the king went back to his throne with all ceremony, to receive us as the embassy from Hakon. There was no little state kept up in this court, and matters were to be kept in their right order.
Now, I need say little of all this ceremony and the words which passed of thanks to Hakon for driving the enemy to his end. Myrkiartan made no suggestion that Hakon should stay here, and seemed more willing to speed him on his way elsewhere. Presently, he said, there should be sent to the strand oxen and casks of mead as provender for the voyage, and Hakon was most welcome to take the ship if he would.
Thereon Dalfin asked for the captives, and they were brought in--a dozen Danes, who stared at their captors haughtily in spite of their bonds. Then they spied Bertric in the splendid arms which Gerda gave him, for we had come fully armed, and they looked toward him as if they would ask his help, but were too proud to do so. And then of a sudden one of them spoke my name, and I knew him, though his face was half-hidden in the mud of the field on which some common chance had sent him down. It was that man of ours who had told me that there was always the chance of escape, and had tried to gnaw my bonds when we were in the ship's forepeak--Sidroc, the courtman. I did not pretend to know him then and there, thinking it might seem proof that Hakon was in league with Heidrek in some way. Presently, when his low cry was forgotten, I looked at him, and he saw that I knew him, and was content.
"Look at the men, Bertric," said Dalfin. "See if there are any you will care to take. You know them."
"We cannot leave any of them here," Bertric said to me. "Hakon can set them ashore anywhere if he does not like them. Asbiorn might manage them though, and with Hakon's men they will learn manners."
He spoke our own tongue of course, and the king asked what he said. Dalfin said that Hakon would take them away altogether if the clemency of the king would allow it. Whereon the king waved his hand, and said that they should be sent down with the oxen.
Now, I did not think that this pleased the men of the court. There was a sort of uneasy murmur for a time, and then there was a silence, which grew somewhat awkward at last. I thought it was time for us to go, for there was nothing else to say, but the bishop came forward. He had been speaking with Phelim for some time, and now told Myrkiartan how that Hakon was a good Christian man and had saved the hermit brotherhood even now. That story made the black looks pass at once, and after that it was easy to take our leave and make our way out of the tent; and glad enough I was to be in the open once more. The whispering of the nobles had not been pleasant at times.
Dalfin came out with us, and he was grave. There had been words and looks now and then among the group of men with his two brothers which he did not like.
"You had better tell Hakon from me that he had best sail hence as soon as possible. Maybe as soon as tide will serve. I will see that you get the men now and at once. Never wait for the provender unless it comes soon."
"Come down to the ship with us," I said. "Tell Hakon this yourself if you will."
He shrugged his shoulders at that and glanced round him.
"If it were not for you two I doubt if Hakon would not have been fallen on by this time," he said. "There are boats enough, hidden in the village from Heidrek, which can be brought out at any moment."
He was speaking in the Dansk, but suddenly took to the Erse with some words or other of common farewell, as a tall Irish chief passed with a scowl at us.
"Jealousies through and through this court," he said quickly, when the man was out of hearing. "Already some pretend to be wroth with me for having any dealing with Lochlannoch at all. I am the youngest son, and my father favours me, more's the pity."
"Better quit it all, and come and help Hakon to the throne," I said.
"If it were not for my father," he answered.
So then and there he bade us farewell, with messages to Gerda and Hakon, and called some of his own men to see us to the ship. We left him standing in the gate, looking after us somewhat sadly, as we thought.
"Now," said Bertric, "it seems to me that one may guess why Dalfin went to sea to find adventure. This court is not a happy home, take it all round."
Halfway down to the ship we heard some one running after us, and looked round. It was Father Phelim.
"Take me with you, my sons," he said, breathless. "I feared that you would go without me."
"We had not thought you would care to sail with us again," I said.
He made no answer beyond a smile, and we went on. Men stood and stared at us at every turning, axe in hand. In the lane they wrangled over the spoils they gathered there from the fallen Danes, and fought fiercely with the long helves of their weapons without hurting one another at all by reason of their shock heads. One who was felled thus would rise and laugh, and the quarrel was at an end. They were a light-hearted folk to all seeming.
Once a handsome, frowning chief came past us at a gallop on his swift horse. He was glittering with gold, but the steed had neither saddle nor bridle. Its only harness was a halter, but the man rode as if he were part of the horse, so that it was a pleasure to watch him. It was more than either Bertric or I could have managed.
The Danish ship was afloat when we reached the waterside, for the tide had risen swiftly in these upper waters, and the Irish had helped to get her off, after plundering her. There were a dozen or more of Hakon's men on board at this time, making her decks shipshape again. But below the bend rose a black cloud of smoke, for the other ship was on fire, and Hakon had sent a boat to see that all was well with the ship he had left there.
There was no surprise at the message from Dalfin. Thoralf only laughed, and Hakon said he would wait for half an hour in case the supplies came. As for the men, he would take them willingly. There was no need to arm them, and they would take their spell at the oars.
Presently Irish came to the beach holding up spoils--helms and mail shirts, and the Danish swords they did not know how to use. Hakon bought them for silver pennies easily, and the folk thought themselves well paid. So an hour passed, and then the hapless Danes were driven down in a string to the water's edge, and we sent a boat for them. One had a hasty message from Dalfin to say that in no wise were we to wait for aught else. The Dane told me that there was strife up at the camp, and the young prince had had difficulty in getting them away.
Hakon spoke to the men, when they came on board, kindly, and bade them take service with him if they would, as had Asbiorn, and, as may be supposed, they were only too willing. And then I asked for our courtman, telling Hakon how it came about that he was with these pirates, and he turned him over to me at once as my special follower. Nor need it be said how Sidroc greeted me after that escape. He said that Heidrek's men had thrust a spear into his hand and hustled him over the bows to take his chance with the rest, unarmed save with that.
Thereafter, Hakon found mail and helm and sword for him, which had come from the spoils, and he was happy. Nor was I any the less comfortable on board for having him to tend myself and Bertric. But that is of course.
From him we learned two things--one which Asbiorn had not yet told us, and the other which he also would learn. Heidrek had fled from us thinking that the ships could be only those of Sigtryg, the Dublin king, with whom he had some deadly feud. I minded that when Dalfin had offered ransom for both of us how Asbiorn had said that the Irish shore was not open to him. Then, when he was thus pent up by us, Heidrek had tried to cut his way to the camp and take Myrkiartan prisoner, that he might hold him as hostage for safe departure. It was a mad attempt, but at least had some meaning in it which we could not understand at the time. Moreover, had it not been for the men who came up with Dalfin it had been done.
Now Hakon made no delay. Thoralf and as strong a crew as could be spared took charge of the Danish ship, and together the two vessels cautiously made their way down the long reach and past the place where Heidrek's other ship was still burning. By that time the dusk was falling, but we were sure that all along the shores the Irish watched us as they had watched us as we came.
The beacon fires had died down now, for their work was done, and the fair reaches of water were still and peaceful in the evening glow, looking even more beautiful than in the morning, for the tide was full to the banks. Gerda came with the other ladies and sat on deck, and spoke with Hakon of the treasure, which he promised to seek with daylight.
"I would have you take it, King Hakon," she said. "I do not altogether know its worth, but it may go toward the freeing of Norway from Eric and the men who follow him."
"Nay," he answered, "I cannot take it from you."
"Once," she said, and she looked at me as I sat on the deck hard by with Bertric, "once--it seems long ago, though it is but so few days--I would have sent it into the deep with him who gathered it. These friends of mine over-persuaded me, saying that I should need it. Now I am in your care, and I have not so much as to hire a ship to take me home. It was Thorwald's. What if you had come back and asked him to help you? Would it not have been laid at your feet for the sake of the old land and the old friendship?"
He smiled, but did not answer. So she set the gift before him once more, with eager words. I knew, as I listened, that she would be the happier if the wealth once dedicated, so to speak, to so high an end as that gift to the old hero were taken from her charge, and used to the freeing of the land she loved; and at last Hakon saw that there was some deeper feeling about it than gratitude to himself only.
"Well," he said, "it seems that I must not refuse. Only, I will put it in this way--I am to know that you hold it for me in case I need it. Be sure that if it is needed I will make haste to ask."
"Aye, and you will need it," said Earl Osric bluntly.
Then Gerda said: "Take it now, and use it if and when you need it. Let it be so, I pray you, King Hakon."
The young king bowed and thanked her, and there that matter ended for the time. Presently, after the ships had come to anchor with the last light in the river mouth, and the men had spread the awnings for us aft, he spoke to us about it, and I told him what I thought. Also I told him how that Bertric and I had enough wealth on us at this moment for the fitting out of a ship as we had planned. Whereon he laughed.
"Keep that," he said, "and I shall be content. Gerda will know nothing of the worth of what you have, and you will use it for her if needed. I have a plan in my mind for her, which may be told hereafter."
Then one of the men came to the opening of the awning.
"A boat, King Hakon, with two men in her, pulling to us from the western bank."
"Hail her to keep off," said Hakon.
And Osric added that they should heave a big stone into her if she did not. "Spies, most like," he said.
They hailed the boat, and had an answer at once.
"Tell Hakon that hither comes a courtman of Queen Gerda's."
Hakon said that it must be some man who had escaped; but Bertric and I knew at once.
"It is Dalfin the Prince," we said. "He has had to fly from those brothers of his."
So it was, and he had come to see more adventure with King Hakon.
"I might find enough if I stayed," he said; "but of an evil sort."
"Why, what is amiss then?" I said.
"Only that my brothers do not like favourites, and I happen to be one for the moment. There would have been fighting if I had stayed, and that would have ended in my good father being pushed off his throne by my elder brother lest I should be named as successor to the crown. Or else in sudden end to myself."
Then he laughed, as if somewhat pleasant came to mind.
"There are strange stories afloat concerning me and the torque already," he went on. "It is said that the fairy queen has had me in her court for all this time I have been away, and that she gave me back the thing. So I have even fled suddenly and secretly, and they will hold that she has lured me back again."
"It is not altogether for your own safety that you have fled," said Hakon gravely.
"Faith, and so it is not," he answered. "I had but to lift my finger, and the wearing of the torque would have set me on the throne. And a mighty uneasy seat that would have been, too! I think my father is used to it, and might have missed the seat. So I left."
"For your father's sake," said Hakon, smiling at him. "Well, come and help me to not quite so uneasy a realm, and all may be for the best. There is little freedom for him who holds an Irish throne, as it seems to me."