I tell them to no other than the King himself.
Ay, tell us, tell us!
Skule Bårdsson is fleeing up toward Elgesæter.
It cannot be! He is in one of the churches.
No, no; he and his son crossed over the river in a skiff.
Ha, then we can save us from Håkon’s wrath!
Ay, let us forthwith give him to know where Skule is.
Nay, better than that; we will say nought, but ourselves go up to Elgesæter and slay Skule.
Ay, ay—that will we!
But did not many Vargbælgs go with him over the river?
No, there were but few men in the boat.
We will arm us as best we can. Oh, now are we townsfolk safe enough! Let no man know what we are about; we are enough for the task!—And now, away to Elgesæter.
[Softly.] Ay, away to Elgesæter!
A fir-wood on the hills above Nidaros. It is moonlight, but the night is misty, so that the background is seen indistinctly, and sometimes scarcely at all. Tree-stumps and great boulders lie round about. King Skule, Peter, Paul Flida, Bård Bratte, and other Vårbælgs come through the wood from the left.
Come hither and rest you, my father.
Ay, let me rest, rest.
How goes it with you?
I am hungry! I am sick, sick! I see dead men’s shadows!
[Springing up.] Help here—bread for the King!
Here is every man king; for life is at stake. Stand up, Skule Bårdsson, if you be king! Lie not there to rule the land.
If you scoff at my father, I will kill you.
I shall be killed whatever betides; for me King Håkon will have no grace; for I was his thane, and deserted him for Skule’s sake. Think of somewhat that may save us. No deed so desperate but I will risk it now.
Could we but get over to the convent at Holm?
Better to Elgesæter.
[With a sudden outburst.] Best of all to go down to Håkon’s ship and bear away the King-child.
Are you distraught?
No, no; ’tis our one hope, and easy enough to do. The Birchlegs are ransacking every house, and keeping watch on all the churches; they think none of us can have taken flight, since all the bridges are broken. There can be but few men on board the ships; when once we have his heir in our power, Håkon must grant us peace, else will his child die with us. Who will go with me to save our lives?
Not I, if they are to be saved in such wise.
Not I! Not I!
Ha, but if it were to save my father——!
If you will go with me, come. First I go down to Hladehammer; there lies the troop we met at the bottom of the hill; they are the wildest dare-devils of all the Vargbælgs; they had swum the river, knowing that they would find no grace in the churches. They are the lads for a raid on the King’s ship! Which of you will follow me?
I! I!
Mayhap I too; but first must I see my father into safe shelter.
Ere daybreak will we make speed up the river. Come, here goes a short way downwards towards Hlade.
[To Paul Flida.] Let not my father know aught of this; he is soul-sick to-night, we must act for him. There is safety in Bård Bratte’s deed; ere daybreak shall the King-child be in our hands.
To be slain, most like. See you not that it is a sin——
Nay, it cannot be a sin; for my father doomed the child in Oslo. Sooner or later it must die, for it blocks my father’s path;—my father has a great king’s-thought to carry through; it matters not who or how many fall for its sake.
Hapless for you was the day you came to know that you were King Skule’s son. [Listening.] Hist!—cast you flat to the ground; there come people this way.
[All throw themselves down behind stones and stumps; a troop of people, some riding, some on foot, can be seen indistinctly through the mist and between the trees; they come from the left, and pass on to the right.
’Tis the Queen!
Ay; she is talking with Dagfinn the Peasant. Hush!
They are making for Elgesæter. The King-child is with them!
And the Queen’s ladies.
But only four men! Up, up, King Skule—now is your kingdom saved!
My kingdom? ’Tis dark, my kingdom—like the angel’s that rose against God.
Who speaks there? Is it King Skule’s men.
King Skule himself.
[To Skule.] God be praised that we met you, dear lord! Some townsmen gave us to know that you had taken the upward path, and we are no less unsafe than you in Nidaros.
You have deserved death, you who denied to give forth St. Olaf’s shrine.
The Archbishop forbade it; but none the less we would fain serve King Skule; we have ever held to him. See, we have brought with us robes of our Order for you and your men; put them on, and then can you easily make your way into one convent or another, and can seek to gain grace of Håkon.
Ay, let me put on the robe; my son and I must stand on consecrated ground. I will to Elgesæter.
[Softly, to Paul Flida.] See that my father comes safely thither.
Bethink you that there are Birchlegs at Elgesæter.
But four men; you may easily deal with them, and once inside the convent walls they will not dare to touch you. I will seek Bård Bratte.
Nay, do not so!
Not on the King’s ship, but at Elgesæter, must the outlaws save the kingdom for my father.
[Whispering to another.] Go you to Elgesæter with Skule?
Hist; no; the Birchlegs are there!
Neither will I go; but say nought to the rest.
And now away, two and two,—one spearman and one monk.
[Sitting on a stump behind the rest.] I will guide King Skule.
Know you the way?
The broad way.
Haste you; let us take different paths, and meet outside the convent gate.
[They go out among the trees, to the right; the fog lifts and the comet shows itself red and glowing, through the hazy air.
Peter, my son——! [Starts backwards.] Ha, there is the flaming sword in heaven!
[Sitting behind him on the stump.] And here am I!
Who are you?
An old acquaintance.
Paler man have I never seen.
But you know me not?
’Tis you that are to lead me to Elgesæter.
’Tis I that will lead you to the throne.
Can you do that?
I can, if you but will it.
And by what means?
By the means I have used before;—I will take you up into a high mountain and show you all the glory of the world.
All the glory of the world have I seen ere now, in dreams of temptation.
’Twas I that gave you those dreams.
Who are you?
An envoy from the oldest Pretender in the world.
From the oldest Pretender in the world?
From the first Earl, who rose against the greatest kingdom, and himself founded a kingdom that shall endure beyond doomsday.
[Shrieks.] Bishop Nicholas!
And you come from down yonder——?
And it seems you have learnt skald-craft, old Bagler-chieftain!
Greet your Master and give him my thanks for his friendship. Tell him he is the only king who sends help to Skule the First of Norway.
Ay, give me the crown! When once I have that, I will rule so as to buy myself free again.
Think you so surely that the victory were mine?
What word would you have?
[Raising his hand as if for an oath.] My son shall—-[Stops suddenly, and breaks forth in terror.] The church-robber! All the might to him! Ha! now I understand;—you seek for his soul’s perdition! Get thee behind me, get thee behind me! [Stretches out his arms to heaven.] Oh have mercy on me, thou to whom I now call for help in my sorest need!
[After a short pause, half rises and looks around.] Where is he, my black comrade? [Springs up.] My guide, my guide, where are you? Gone!— No matter; now I myself know the way, both to Elgesæter and beyond.
The courtyard of Elgesæter Convent. To the left lies the chapel, with an entrance from the courtyard; the windows are lighted up. Along the opposite side of the space stretch some lower buildings; in the back, the convent wall with a strong gate, which is locked. It is a clear moonlight night. Three Birchleg Chiefs stand by the gate; Margrete, Lady Ragnhild, and Dagfinn the Peasant come out from the chapel.
[Half to herself.] King Skule had to flee into the church, you say! He, he, a fugitive! begging at the altar for peace—begging for his life mayhap—oh no, no, that could never be; but God will punish you who dared to let it come to this!
My dear, dear mother, curb yourself; you know not what you say; ’tis your grief that speaks.
Hear me, ye Birchlegs! ’Tis Håkon Håkonsson that should lie before the altar, and beseech King Skule for life and peace.
It ill beseems loyal men to listen to such words.
Bow your heads before a wife’s sorrow!
King Skule doomed! Look to yourselves, look to yourselves all of you, when he regains his power!
That will never be, Lady Ragnhild.
Hush, hush!
Think you Håkon Håkonsson dare let his doom be fulfilled if the King should fall into his hands?
King Håkon himself best knows whether a king’s oath can be broken.
[To Margrete.] And this man of blood have you followed in faith and love! Are you your father’s child? May the wrath of heaven——! Go from me, go from me!
Blessed be your lips, although now they curse me.
I must down to Nidaros and into the church to find King Skule. He sent me from him when he sat victorious on the throne; then, truly, he had no need of me—now will he not be wroth if I come to him. Open the gate for me; let me go to Nidaros!
My mother, for God’s pity’s sake——!
Who knocks?
[Without.] A king.
Skule Bårdsson.
King Skule.
My father!
Open, open!
We open not here to outlaws.
’Tis a king who knocks, I tell you; a king who has no roof over his head; a king whose life is forfeit if he reach not consecrated ground.
Dagfinn, Dagfinn, ’tis my father!
[Goes to the gate and opens a small shutter.] Come you with many men to the convent?
With all the men that were true to me in my need.
And how many be they?
Fewer than one.
He is alone, Dagfinn.
Heaven’s wrath fall upon you if you deny him sanctuary!
In God’s name, then!
[He opens the gate; the Birchlegs respectfully uncover their heads. King Skule enters the courtyard.
[Throwing herself on his neck.] My father! My dear, unhappy father!
[Interposing wildly between him and the Birchlegs.] Ye who feign reverence for him, ye will betray him, like Judas. Dare not to come near him! Ye shall not lay a finger on him while I live!
Here he is safe, for he is on holy ground.
And not one of all your men had the heart to follow you this night!
Both monks and spearmen brought me on the way; but they slipped from me one by one, for they knew there were Birchlegs at Elgesæter. Paul Flida was the last to leave me; he came with me to the convent gate; there he gave me his last hand-grip, in memory of the time when there were Vargbælgs in Norway.
[To the Birchlegs.] Get you in, chieftains, and set you as guards about the King-child; I must to Nidaros to acquaint the King that Skule Bårdsson is at Elgesæter; in so weighty a matter ’tis for him to act.
Oh, Dagfinn, Dagfinn, have you the heart for that?
Else should I ill serve King and land. [To the men.] Lock the gates after me, watch over the child, and open to none until the King be come. [Softly toto Skule.] Farewell, Skule Bårdsson—and God grant you a blessed end.
[Goes out by the gate; the Birchlegs close it after him, and go into the chapel.
Ay, let Håkon come; I will not loose you; I will hold you straitly and tenderly in my arms, as I never held you before.
Oh, how pale you are—and aged; you are cold.
I am not cold—but I am weary, weary.
Come in then, and rest you——
Yes, yes; ’twill soon be time to rest.
[From the chapel.] You come at last, my brother!
Sigrid! you here?
I promised that we should meet when you were fain of me in your sorest need.