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SAGA OF HALFRED THE SIGSKALD

SAGA

OF

HALFRED THE SIGSKALD

A Northern Tale of the Tenth Century

BY

FELIX DAHN.

TRANSLATED BY SOPHIE F. E. VEITCH.

ALEXANDER GARDNER,
PAISLEY; AND 12 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON.

1886.

CONTENTS.

Saga of Halfred the Sigskald.

CHAPTER I.

Nigh upon fifty winters ago, there was growing up in the North a boy named Halfred. In Iceland, on the Hamund Fjord, stood the splendid hall of his father, Hamund.

At that time, so the heathen people believe, elves and goblins still moved about freely among the Northern nations. And many say that an elf, who had been friendly to the powerful Hamund, drew near to the shield cradle of the boy Halfred, and for his first food laid wild honey upon his lips, and said--

But this is a mere idle tale of the heathen people.

And Halfred grew, and was strong and beautiful. He sat often alone on the cliffs, and listened how the wind played in rifts in the crags, and he would fain have tuned his harp to the same strain, and because he could not do it he was filled with fury.

And when this fury swept over his forehead the veins in his temples swelled, and there came a red darkness before his eyes. And then his arm sometimes did that whereof his head knew nothing.

When his father died Halfred took the seat of honour in the hall. But he took no heed to preserve or improve his inheritance. He gave himself up to harp playing and feats of arms. He devised a new strain in singing, "Halfred's strain," which greatly charmed all who heard it, and in which none could imitate him. And in hatchet throwing, not one of the men of Iceland could equal him. He dashed his hammer through three shields, and at two ships' lengths he would not miss with its sharp edge a finger broad arrow shaft.

His mind was now set upon building a dragon ship, strong and splendid, worthy of a Viking, wherein he might make voyages, to harry or levy toll upon island and mainland, or to play his harp in the halls of kings.

And through many an anxious night he considered how he should build his ship, and could devise no plan. Yet the image of the ship was always before his eyes, as it must be, with prow and stem, with board and bow; and instead of a dragon it must carry a silver swan on the prow.

And when, one morning, he came out of the hall, and looked out over the Fjord, towards the north, there, from the south-south-east, came floating into Hamund's Bay a mighty ship, with swelling sails. Then Halfred and his house-churls seized their weapons, and hurried out either to drive away or welcome the sailors. Ever nearer drove the ship, but neither helmet nor spear flashed on board, and though they shouted through the trumpet all was still. Then Halfred and his followers sprang into the boat, and rowed to the great ship, and saw that it was altogether empty, and climbed on board. And this was the most splendid dragon ship that ever spread sail on the salt seas. But instead of a dragon it bore a silver swan upon the prow.

And moreover also, Halfred told me, the ship was in all things the same as the image he had seen in his night and day dreams; forty oars in iron rowlocks, the deck pavillioned with shields, the sails purple-striped, the prow carved with runes against breakers, and the ropes of sea-dogs' skin. And the high-arched silver wings of the swan were ingeniously carved, and the wind rushed through them with a melodious sound.

And Halfred sprang up to the seat of honour on the upper-deck, upon which lay spread a purple royal mantle, and a silver harp, with a swan's head, leaned against it.

And Halfred said--

And many said the elf who had given him his name had sent the Singing Swan to him.

But that is an idle tale of the heathen people. For it has often happened that slightly anchored ships have broken away in storms, while the seamen were carousing ashore.

CHAPTER II.

And forthwith it became known that Halfred had armed the best of his house churls, and his followers, with good weapons, to set forth as a Viking to conquer, and as a Skald to sing.

And over the whole of Iceland, and the islands all around, there was much talk about the Singing Swan, which "Oski"¹ himself--that is the god of the heathen people--had sent to Halfred Hamundson. "He is the son of Oski; nothing shall miscarry with him, be it man's hate, or woman's love, in sword thrusts, or in harp playing; great treasure and rich Skald rewards shall he win, and his gentle hand can take and spend, but keep nothing."

And now there came many, drawn to him by the wish to be his sailing comrades, even from the furthest islands of the western sea, so that he could have manned seven ships. He manned, however, only the Singing Swan, with three hundred men whom he chose himself, and with them he set sail upon the sea.

And now there would be much which might be told about the great victories which Halfred won, through many long years, with hammer and harp, on all the seas from Mikilgard--which the Latins call Byzantium--even to the island of Hibernia, in the far west.

And of all these feats and victories, voyages and minstrelsy, and contests of arms and harp playing, had I, as a child by the cloister hearth, heard the Skalds sing, and wandering guests recount, long before I looked into Halfred's sea-grey eyes.

For during the long time that he was wholly lost sight of, and the Singing Swan had vanished in flames, and all people held Halfred for dead, the Skalds composed many songs about him. But that was later.

At that time Halfred thus roamed about everywhere, singing and triumphing, winning fights at sea, and contests in palaces. And because he was victor over all the Skalds in singing competitions, the people named him "Sigskald," and from that, the heathen people, prophesying backwards, invented, perhaps, that fable about the elf which had given him honey, and his name, in the cradle.

And he amassed great spoils, and many hundred rings of red gold, and gave them all away again to his sailing comrades. And yet he still heaped up rich hords upon the Singing Swan; and brought also much treasure to Hamund's hall, where he was wont to pass the winter.

And he splendidly improved the hall, and built over against it a great Mead hall, in which a thousand men could drink: and six steps led to the seat of honour in the Mead hall.

But the most costly thing among all his spoils was a candelabrum--"Lampas" the Greeks call it--half as high as a man, of pure gold, with seven flaming arms, which far away, in the land of Greece, he had borne away from a marble city that he had burned.

And this treasure Halfred himself prized highly, who otherwise cared nothing for gold. And at the Yule feast, and the Midsummer feast, and at all high festivals, it must stand close before him upon the table, with its sevenfold flame.

But that at which everyone wondered most was, that all people who saw Halfred, and heard him sing, seemed to be forced to be friendly to him. It often happened that even the Skalds whom he vanquished in song contests, themselves conceived great love for him, and praised his strains more than their own.

But this is truly the most incredible thing that can be told of Skalds. Compared to this it is a small thing that a wooer whom he had supplanted in a woman's favour should become his friend and blood brother. But that was later.

And, indeed, because everything seemed miraculous, those heathen people invented that legend that he was the son of Oski, and that therefore neither men's wrath nor maiden's pride could withstand him; that a god was throned upon his forehead, who dazzled all eyes; with many more such fables.

Above all they say that his smile could conquer all hearts, as the midsummer sun melts the ice.

And about this also they tell a story.

That is, that once, in the depth of winter, he found at the foot of Snaeja-Tjoell, a little maiden of five years old, nearly frozen to death. She had strayed from her mother's cottage, and could not find the way back.

And although Halfred was very weary, and had many followers with him, he sent them all nevertheless alone to the hall, took the child himself upon his shoulder, and travelled many stages further, always tracking the tiny footprints of the little maiden, who had fallen fast asleep, until he found her mother's cottage. And he laid the child in the mother's arms, and she woke and smiled. And the mother wished for him, as a reward, that he should smile henceforth like a child that sees its mother again. And this also had Oski granted to him.

But this is a mere idle tale of the heathen people; for there is no Oski; and no heathen gods; and perchance also no² .... I say that he carried the child back himself, carefully, to the mother. Many a Viking would only, from compassion, have thrust her deeper in the snow; the best would have given her to one of his followers to carry to the hall. But to carry her back, himself, through the snow, to her mother, that would no Viking have done that I know; above all when he was tired and hungry.

I say, then, in Halfred there was great goodness of heart, such as is generally wont to be found alone in innocent children; and therefore his smile was heart-winning, as is a child's smile. And out of this, therefore, have the heathen people invented that gift of Oski.

For that he did carry the child to the mother, that I certainly, myself, fully and undoubtingly believe of Halfred. And I would be the last not to believe it of him.

Nevertheless he could become suddenly very wrathful, when the veins in his temples swelled. Then, often, if any enemy roused him by defiance, he would dash, blindly raging, among the spears, like a Berseker.

Over and above all this, they tell many tales of the god-like gifts which made maidens love him. But that is not a miracle, as it comes very near being that a conquered singer should love him.

For he possessed a brilliant noble countenance, which no one forgot who had once seen it, and a heart-winning soft, yet powerful voice. He avoided rude jesting; and he could always divine what was the peculiar charm of every fair maiden's beauty; and he knew how to put it to her as a riddle, over which she herself had long been vainly pondering.

But other riddles, also, he knew well how to find out.

CHAPTER III.

And thus had Halfred now, for many years, roamed about as a Viking and as a Skald, and had won fame and red gold; and once more he again celebrated the Yule feast at home in his hall.

And there were very many hundred men assembled there in the Mead hall which he had fitted up. All his sailing comrades, and very many Icelanders, and many foreign guests, from Austrvegr, and even from Hylmreck, and Dyflin, on the western sea. Among them also the Skald, Vandrad, from Tiunderland.

And the Bragi cup³ passed round, and many men vowed vows thereon, and many a one pledged himself to daring deeds, which he would perform before Midsummertide, or die. Halfred also, as well as the guests, had drunk a great deal of mead; more than he was wont to drink, as he himself, afterwards, earnestly told me.

And this also the heathen point to in him as a miraculous gift of his father Oski; that he could drink far far more than other men, in fact--and they hold him therein very lucky--as many horns full as he chose, without the heron of forgetfulness⁴ sweeping through his dizzied brain.

But this is foolishly said, for even I can scare away the heron, if I, after each draught, think quietly to myself, and do not propose many toasts; for such attract the heron.

Halfred had now certainly emptied many horns; but as yet he had vowed no vow. Silent and grave he sat in the seat of the honour, as befitted the host; exhorted the tardy drinkers--there were not however many of them--by sending the cup bearer to them, with the drinking horn; and smiled quietly, when many a one vowed vows which he would never fulfil.

Then arose from his seat Vandrad the Skald, from Tiunderland, and stood upon the second step of the dais, and spoke. Halfred had vanquished him five times, and yet the Skald was a faithful loving friend to him--

All the guests kept silence when Vandrad had spoken. Halfred looked proudly down upon him, and very gently, he told me later, he felt the veins in his temples swell, as, smiling, he asked the Skald--but it was the smile of a king, not a child's smile--

Then said Vandrad--

Then Halfred's temple veins swelled fearfully. He shook back the thick black locks which flowed down even to his shoulders, and drained off a deep drinking horn. Then he sprang from his seat, and seized the Bragi cup, on which vows were wont to be vowed. Once more he paused, set down the Bragi cup again, and asked--

Vandrad replied--

Then Halfred again took up the Bragi cup, strode forward to the highest step which led to his seat of honour, and paused where exactly in the centre was burned into the oaken floor a circle, in red runes, so small that a man could only tread therein with one foot. Halfred kneeled down, planted his left foot within the circle, and lifted the Bragi cup in his right hand, high above his head.

And all were very eager to hear what he would now say; for this was the strongest, the most solemn form in which vow could be vowed. And Halfred said--

Thus ended the Yule feast, at that time; for all the guests started up from their seats with a great uproar, in a confused throng, and drank to Halfred, and shouted that this was the best and most admirable vow which in the memory of man had been vowed in the north.

And the tumult was so great that Halfred had to command silence from the dais, and very soon to send round the parting cup to the uproarious heroes.

And Halfred told me that when, under the light of the stars, he crossed the court to his dwelling-house, he repented of his vow. Not because he feared King Hartstein's hammer-throwing, or dreaded his daughter's riddle. But because it is always wiser for a man to see a maiden, before he determines to make her his wife.

CHAPTER IV.

And so soon as the Austr-Vogen was free from ice, the Singing Swan sailed towards Svearike, and through numberless perils into the great sea which lies to the south and east of Upland; and from thence she followed a river, as far as there was floating depth, upwards towards Tiunderland, and to Upsala.

And many will now believe that Halfred had a great struggle and much difficulty to overcome King Hartstein and his daughter, and will expect to hear how it came to pass.

But there is nothing to tell; for everything went easily and quickly with him, according to his wishes, which the heathen people again boasted had been thus arranged by Oski.

King Hartstein was, in general, a flinty-hearted man, full of suspicion, and short of speech. When, however, he saw Halfred, and called to him as he entered his hall, and drew near to the throne, and asked him--"Stranger, what desirest thou in Tiunderland, and of King Hartstein?"--And when Halfred, with that smile which Oski had bestowed upon him, looked into the fierce eyes, and joyously replied--"The best will I have that Tiunderland and King Hartstein possess--his daughter." Then the grim old man was at once won, and in his secret heart he wished that Halfred might be his son-in-law.

And then they went out to the court for the hammer-throwing, and the King threw well, but Halfred threw far better, and thus the first trial was won.

"Harder will thou find the second," said the old man, and led Halfred to the Skemma, the chamber of the women, where the breaker of men's wits, in a shining dark blue mantle, sat among her maidens, a head taller than any of them.

And they say that when Halfred entered the chamber, and his glance fell upon her, a hot tremor passed over her, and a sudden glow dyed her cheeks crimson, and confused her.

Certain it is that with a golden spindle, with which she had played rather than spun, she pricked her finger, and let it fall with a clatter.

But Sudha, the foremost of her maidens, the captive daughter of the King of Halogaland, who sat at her right hand, picked up the spindle, and held it. And many interpreted this later, as a bad omen. At the time, however, it was hardly observed.

And Vandrad the Skald said later to Halfred, that the woman had been elf-struck at the first sight of him: but he thereupon said earnestly--"It had been better had I been elf-struck at sight of her; but I remained unwounded."

And forthwith King Hartstein assembled all his courtiers, and the women of the castle, and the guests, in the hall, for the riddle solving.

And Harthild arose from the arm chair at his right hand, and her face grew crimson as she looked at Halfred, which--as they declare--had never before happened to her at the challenging of her riddle.

She paused for a space, looked downwards, then again upon Halfred, and now with searching and defiant eyes. And she began--

Then she would have seated herself, as was her wont after giving out the riddle; but struck by terror she remained standing, and grasped the arm of the chair; for Halfred, without any reflecting, stretched his right hand towards her, and spoke--

Then Harthild sank pale with rage in her chair, and covered her head with her veil.

But when Hartstein, her father, drew near amidst loud cries of astonishment from the listeners in the hall, and would have drawn the veil from her face, she sprang up vehemently, threw back the veil--and they saw that she had wept--and cried in a harsh voice--

All kept silence, uneasy at these threatening unloving words. Halfred at length broke the stillness, he threw back his head, and shook his black locks, and laughed--"I will risk that! King Hartstein, this very day will I pay thee the bride's dower. When prepare we the bridal feast?"

CHAPTER V.

King Hartstein, however, wished for delay, until Hartvik and Eigil should have returned from a campaign. Then their reception feast and the marriage could be celebrated together.

Hartvik was the king's son, and Harthild's own brother; and Eigil was son to the king's brother, and Harthild's cousin.

And he would willingly have taken Harthild away as his wife, but she had said to him, "If thou failest to solve my riddle, thy shorn locks will cause thee affliction; and if thou solvest my riddle, and I become thy wife, that will cause thee still deeper affliction, for no love for thee dwells in my heart: and woe to him who without love wins me for his wife."

Then Eigil sadly gave it up, although he was a good riddle solver.

And when Hartvik and Eigil were returned there soon grew to be a great friendship between Halfred and Hartvik, and Halfred and Eigil, and both loved him so well that they said they would lay down their lives for him.

And this between Halfred and Hartvik is no great wonder, because Halfred always won all men's hearts.

But it may well astonish many that Eigil also should thus love him, who still cherished as much love to Harthild as formerly; and who yet clearly saw, as all who had eyes could see, that the harsh maiden was quite filled with love to Halfred.

And jealousy does not often allow it to be admitted that the nightingale has a more charming voice than the carrion crow.

Hartvik and Egil, however, loved Halfred so dearly that they begged him to receive them as his blood brothers.

And on the day before the wedding feast was prepared, therefore, Hartvik and Eigil became Halfred's blood brethren.

They stood with him, as the heathen people do, under a strip of turf, which was lifted on spear points above their heads, the two ends still cleaving to the ground, and they mixed the blood which flowed from gashes in their right arms down upon the black earth beneath their feet.

And therewith they vowed their heads for ever to the infernal gods if ever one of the blood brothers should desert the other, in danger or in need. And so strongly does this oath bind, that even against his own kith and kin, yea even against his own father, must one blood brother stand by the other, even until death.

CHAPTER VI.

On the day after the wedding, however, Halfred rode alone into the pine wood. He said he wished to think, and he refused Harthild, who would have ridden with him, and also his blood brethren.

Darkly Harthild looked after him as he rode out of the court. But Sudha, the beautiful daughter of the King of Halogaland, also looked after him from an overhanging window, and slowly stroked her blue black hair back from her temples.

Vandrad the Skald, however, who often staid at Hartstein's Court, and who was there at that time, had long cherished love for Sudha. And he had often begged her freedom from King Hartstein, but in vain; the stern man had always denied him.

And heretofore she had not listened unwillingly when he sang. But when in these days he drew near to her, and spoke of a song which he had composed in her praise, she turned away and said--"On the lips of one only have the gods laid honey."

And when in the evening Halfred returned from the pinewood towards the royal castle, he was leading his weary horse by the bridle, for the moon shone but fitfully through storm-rent clouds, there sat upon the runic-stone hard by the road a closely veiled woman, and she cried to him and said--

"Halfred Hamundson, whereof on the first day of thy marriage, ridest thou alone in the pinewood?"

"If thou knowest that, O wise Vala," said Halfred, pausing--and he heaved a sigh--"then knowest thou more than Halfred Hamundson."

"I will tell thee," replied the veiled one. "Thou hast sought a woman, and found what is nigher to a man, rough, harsh, and devoid of charm. The Singing Swan hath paired thee with the vulture's brood. Thou chosest the hard flint stone, near to it lay glowing at thy feet the rose, exhaling fragrance towards thee."

Then Halfred sprang upon his horse, and cried to the veiled one--

"Nobler hold I it in a woman to be too cold, than too ardent." And he dashed away.

And only once, as he told me, he looked back. So beautiful, he said, had she never before been, in the full light of day, as now in the moonlight, her black eyes glittered--for she had torn off her head covering--and she called after him by his name, "Halfred," and her blue-black hair fluttered round her in the night wind like a ghostly veil.

CHAPTER VII.

And when the depth of winter was passed, and the spring was come, Halfred sent a message to Upsala, to King Hartstein, that at the midsummer tide Dame Harthild should bear a child.

And the wise women had thrown runic rods over her seven times, and had learned each time by unerring signs that the child should be a son. And already was his name chosen, "Sigurd Sigskaldson."

And Halfred bade the king, and Hartvik and Eigil, and Vandred the Skald, and all the people from the castle at Upsala, as many as the ships would hold, to be his guests at Hamund's hall, twenty nights before the midsummer tide.

And there, at the birth and naming of the boy, a great feast should be held, such as had never before been held in Iceland.

And King Hartstein gave answer that he and all his people, as many as twelve ships could carry, would come as bidden, to the feast.

Thus at the beginning of the month of roses came King Hartstein, and Hartvik, and Eigil, and many hundred men from the castle at Upsala; and people from all parts of Tiunderland.

And among the women who came also, the first that descended from the ship was Sudha. She had begged that she might come, out of longing to see Harthild.

And again there was close friendship between Halfred and his blood-brethren, Hartvik and Eigil. They shared their table and bread and salt.

Thus they waited the birth of the heir of the hall, on the midsummer day, and made ready a great feast in the Mead hall.

Rich hangings of silken and woven stuffs which Halfred had borne away from the islands of Greece were spread upon the wooden walls of the drinking hall; the floor was strewn deep with rushes and clean straw, and the tables and benches were set out in two long rows, and one cross row.

On all the pillars of the walls were hung curiously interlaced weapons, which the Viking had gathered from boarded ships, stormed castles, and victorious battlefields. But on sideboards around were set out the many cups and horns of gold, silver, bronze, amber, and precious horn, which the Sigskald had won, by singing in the halls of kings.

But straight before Halfred towered the lofty candalabrum from Greece, with its seven flaming arms.

Eigil and Hartvik were to sit on his left hand, the guests from Tiunderland and the other strangers on the long benches to the right, the house churls and islanders on the long benches to the left of the dais. And the most honoured guests had even cushions for the back, brought from a pillared marble house which had been burnt on the coast of Rumaberg.

The women, however, were not to come into the hall, but to tarry with Harthild, and await her hour in the chamber of the women.

This was all splendidly ordered, and Halfred himself told me that never, neither as guest nor as host, had he seen such magnificent festival preparations.

Two days before the feast, as Halfred, wearied with the summer heat, lay upon his couch after the mid-day meal, Sudha glided softly through the doorway, and stood before him, and spoke--

Then Halfred arose from his couch, and spoke--

And he seized his spear and strode out. But Sudha cried after him, so that he still heard her--"Her happiness? Long has she divined her misery. Soon shall she clearly perceive, the haughty one, that she is more unspeakably wretched than Sudha."

Then, the evening of the same day, she called to her Vandrad the Skald, who still always cherished great love for her, to the well in the court, as though she would beg him to draw up for her from the depth the heavy water bucket. This did Vandrad later, when dying, himself tell Halfred.

But when he had raised the bucket to the edge of the well, she lightly laid a finger on his bare arm, and said--

"Vandrad, come hither to-night, just when the star Oervandil is mirrored in this well. Thou shall tell me all that formerly came to pass here, about that oath on the Bragi cup."

Vandrad considered within himself, and he looked doubtingly at her.

Then she said--"Vandrad, I swear to thee by ⁵Freya's throat jewels that I will become thy wife when I leave this island. Wilt thou now come and tell me all?"

Then Vandrad swore to do what she required.

CHAPTER VIII.

And now the midsummer feast was magnificently celebrated in the hall. And there were full a thousand guests within the hall; but many hundreds of the servants and bondmen were camped round about the building, in the open air.

Besides the guests from Svearike, there had come from all the neighbouring coasts and islands many jarl's and great chieftains. Thus from distant Iceland, the kings Konal, and Kiartan from Dyflin; from Zealand the Danish Jarl Hako, and Sveno from Lethra; then from West Gothaland the three brothers, Arnbiorn, Arngeir, and Arnolfr; Jarls of the Western Goths. There had long been a blood feud, which had been but newly allayed with blood money, between these three, and the two brothers Princes of East Gothaland, Helge and Helgrimr.

And these two, and the other three, would only come with a strong well-armed following, when they understood that their adversaries had also been bidden to Halfred's feast.

And Halfred had taken care that the followers of the Princes of West Gothaland should be lodged to the right, and those of East Gothaland to the left, at the back of the hall, in huts of pinewood. And a wooden wall with strongly closed doors divided the two encampments.

But also from other vallies of Svearik, besides Tiunderland, from Tronland, from Herjadel, Jeutland, and Helsingaland, had come many guests, who had often of old been enemies to the people from Tiunderland.

The feast, however, proceeded most joyously from daybreak even until the night. And when within the hall, and without, where the foreign servants were encamped, many fires and pine torches were kindled--before Halfred burned the seven armed candelabrum--it was at first a right jovial sun fire-feast.

The men, swinging and emptying the drinking horns, sprang over the flames, and the Skalds, in songs which they composed at the moment they rose, vied with each other in praises of Halfred and his deeds with hammer and harp, and of the Singing Swan, and the hall, and the feast.

And all the foreign kings also proclaimed that never had they seen so lordly a midsummer feast celebrated, neither at home, nor in the halls of any other host.

Halfred sat with a joyful heart in the seat of honour. He signed to his harp-bearer to bring him his silver harp, for he wished at the last, to requite the laudations of the Skalds and the praises of the guests with thanks and a song of welcome.... And then began that catastrophe which was to overwhelm Halfred and his house, and the men of Tiunderland, and all the guests, and many other men and women, altogether strange and far away, who had never even seen or heard of Halfred and Harthild, in blood and fire.

That is to say, the great door of the hall, exactly opposite to the seat of honour opened, and Dame Harthild strode in.

Haughtily erect she walked, her head thrown back. A long black mantle was wrapped around her head and neck and breast, and her whole body; it floated trailing after her, like the curling wave behind a ship's stern.

And Halfred said to one it seemed to him, then, as if the most fearful of the Fates was striding through the hall.

Straight up the hall she passed, followed by Sudha and her women, her glance fixed upon Halfred.

Slowly, silently, she ascended the six steps of the dais, and paused straight before Halfred at the table. Only the heavy candelabrum stood between the two.

But all the men in the hall sat speechless, and gazed up at the black woman, who looked like a dark thunder cloud.

"Halfred Hamundson," she began--and her voice was loud, yet toneless--"Answers I demand to two questions, before these ten hundred hearers in thy hall. Lie not to me."

The blood rose to Halfred's brow, and he felt his temple veins throb heavily. "If I speak or act," he said to himself, "I know neither what I should say nor do. Therefore I will keep silence and do nothing."

But Harthild, with her left hand pressed upon her thigh, continued--"Didst thou, in that first night, when I held thy hand firm upon my girdle, and asked thee if thou lovedst me, say Yes or No? Answer me Sigskald. I and the gods know about that."

"Yes," said Halfred, and knitted his brows.

"And is it true, as Vandrad the Skald has sworn, that here, in this hall, at the Yule feast, after many horns of mead, thou didst vow, as a wanton wager, that before the midsummer tide, thou would break in the breaker of men's wits like a stubborn horse, and that to make good these boasting words thou camest to Tiunderland, and remained, as thou didst lament, unwounded at sight of me."

"Speak the truth--lie not again--a thousand listeners hear thee--thou lordly son of Oski--Is it so?"

Then Halfred raged in his inmost heart, but he constrained himself, and replied firmly and distinctly--

"It is as thou hast said."

Then Harthild drew herself up yet higher, and like two serpents flashed, glances of fearful hatred from her eyes, as she spoke--