The Sentimental Vikings Part 2

A crowd of men struggling and falling over each other against the great door; the flas.h.i.+ng of armour, swords thrown in the air, clenched hands raised and falling, the end of the hall full of tumult of arms and legs and bodies, as the men rush and surge over each other against the outlet.

But, dominating all in its hugeness, striking the men before it, making a glory with its flying axe-enormous, irresistible, clothed in red, seeming to shake the air with the roar through its skin, yet utterly silent-Lord Snore, gone mad with the combat, striking with the strength of a falling tree-sweeping out the hall before him!

The door is open! The men pile up on the threshold; the door grows high-is darkened-is full. Grows open-men whirl along the floor under the axe-the wave breaks, it recedes, it runs away into the corners, it dissolves and runs away in foam-the door is empty.

The last of the smoke rolls around under the roof, the walls rock with the reverberation, and the sounds of our voices calling to one another are lost in the echoes. The hall heaves, the sounds die, going out with the smoke under the roof; and the pale light of the daybreak falls through the long windows. The candles gutter and go out, falling down from the walls, from the burned-out spikes. We stumble over the table, on, over the broken benches, and over the bodies.

It was a good fight, O king, when Lord Snore swept his hall! There is now but little more to tell. We found a great figure standing idly by the door when we came there; it was swinging a great axe in its hand, with its head sunk on its chest, and it swayed when a man touched it, and fell back limply into our arms.

As they carried him up the hall towards the great bench a white figure ran past me.

Then the lights went out, the world heaved, and I fell down across the table; for both my hands had been cut off upon its edge.

When next I saw the hall, having come back out of the long unreality that had lasted so many days, the first snow of the winter lay on the window-ledges and the great fire was blazing merrily. I remember how strange it all looked. And there, walking up and down slowly, and leaning on my lady who guided him, was the wreck of a great man who grasped weakly for support at her robe. I went up to him and stood silently. My lady touched me with her hand and whispered to me to speak to him. Then said I to my lord with a strange softness in my throat: "I hope my lord is better-after his sickness." And he answered, "Yes, yes-yes, yes-yes, yes-" nodding his head, sillily. And then my lady led him to the great bench, and, seating him, talked to him child-talk and tended him gently.

That night, as I sat by my lady, silent, the boy who fed me having gone away to the others, one rose, and thinking to please me I suppose, brought me my harp out of an inner room.

I think we were all glad when my lord died at the last snow. Then my lady used to go among the cottages of the villagers, tending those who were sick, talking with the young girls, and comforting all who were in any sorrow. The women used sometimes to cry when she spoke to them. And in about three months after we buried my lord, when summer was come again, and the sun had already begun to warp the timbers of the s.h.i.+p on the beach, when the boys ran shouting in the shallows, died my lady also, and we buried her by the side of my lord.

Then left I the castle; and men tell me that it is pulled down to build more houses for the villagers, and that the old s.h.i.+p has mouldered away on the beach and can no more be seen.

And all this happened years ago and is forgotten. If some one will hold my cup I will drink "skaal" to the king that he has listened.

And this is the tale of the sweeping of the hall, that the old minstrel used to tell at the board of King Gorm, waving his handless arms in the glow of the firelight.

AN INCIDENT

The great fog lay dun over the sea, and the shadows moved over the motionless s.h.i.+p, pa.s.sing swiftly; yet there was no wind.

We lay wrapped in the wood-ashes coloured air, through which the mast shone glimmering in many lines when you looked at it, idly swinging under no wind. Easily the water slipped by, dimly streaked, through the cloudy vapour. The men from the stern could not be seen by those in the bow.

We yawned and stretched ourselves, the peculiar smell of the fog rising into our nostrils. The warm air lay like the weight of a cloud on our foreheads, and we grumbled wearily, wanting a sight of the sun.

While we waited thus sighing, out of the dun vapour on the right came a cry indistinguishable. After we had been on our feet for some moments, there came the swift wash of oar-blades, and their rabble on the gunwale, going very fast.

Then the sound of a far-away crash, and, after a little, clinking as of knife on gla.s.s, and a dead murmur of voices in the fog.

We straightened ourselves, and after a moment of hesitation, my lord gave the word to get out the oars, which we did very gladly though with little noise, pulling carefully, our mast-top lost in the s.h.i.+fting roof.

Very soon we could hear the sound of the fighting coming quite plainly over the dusky sea; and in a little time thereafter, we saw, while the vapour swirled back for a moment, three brown hulks near together. We lay on the edge of the foam-touched s.p.a.ce of water, catching occasionally glimpses of the moving shapes: only a large piece of wood floated past us.

Have you ever listened to a fight at sea? The men were leaning over the bulwarks, their hands on their axe-handles, their feet grasping firmly the deck. My lord raised himself in a moment; we ran swiftly along the water under the quick, ragged stroke, the s.h.i.+ps rose before us, we swept past the side of the largest one, dropping the oars.

The man next to me leans back suddenly just as my bow tw.a.n.gs; arrows strike into the bulwarks.

Fierce faces and bent bows send their sound of shouting and tw.a.n.ging at us over the close side of the enemies' s.h.i.+p. We thrust with our oars that slip along the timbers; the arrows sing and streak past, their long feathers grey like storks.

Then the s.h.i.+p by us turns off into the fog with a dash of oars that sends the white spray flas.h.i.+ng for a moment; it is a shadowy form in the mist; a tall brown thing disappears beside it; we are alone on the smooth water with the s.h.i.+p we have come to help.

The hillside is sprinkled with flowers, the setting sun draws our attention from them. "Come," says Lord Erik to my lord, "let us go in."

They walk slowly over the darkening blossoms.

"Ever since you called out to me through the fog," says Lord Erik, "and came on with me and became my guest, I have trusted you with all that I care, or think, or am, and you have never before told me of this."

My lord smiled rather sadly at the handsome, eager, young face, where the emotion of disappointment lay, like all emotions on those expressive features, bare.

"We do not always speak so easily of what we like," he answered.

"Oh, it is like an old sail you speak of her-why do you not care?" And the beardless mouth went down. "Does she not like you?" glancing at my lord's strong limbs.

"Perhaps; girls do not usually love old men," my lord answered, looking kindly, amusedly, at the boy.

"You old! You are not old! I think of you as something with me, you--"

"Try your success with women, my son," broke in my lord laughing; "you, a young lord-come."

They went in.

A word about us. We were Eastern men from the island; my lord, old, burned-out,-though not with years,-restless-deliberately-silent, kind, secretive, and wise in some old-gained sad kind knowledge of men. So we had cruised where my lord was quiet, seeming content, till in the fog opportunity brought us new friends, at whose sunny, lonely town we were guests. When my lord had told his host of the woman to whom he was betrothed, idly, we men who stood by watching noticed them keenly, for we were interested in my lord and the why of his choosing the maiden.

She, the daughter of a timid lord, her mother dead-a fair thing who gave flowers to boys in fun.

This is what we were.

Now, whether it was the beer we drank that night, or whether the long rest-though I think the long rest-the men began to speak in loud voices with sea-tales. Now, the young lord, his slim right hand on the great mug, laughed to my lord: "Let us go and make some sea-tales!" and laughing, raised his mug to his lips, glancing merrily at his guest over the top as he drank.

"But your s.h.i.+p," said my lord looking at him.

"Let us go in yours, mine is too battered," answered young Erik.

"Ah-that was a joy-the fog and the shouting and the grey s.h.i.+ps!"

His face grew pale in the light with excitement. My lord seemed reluctant.

"Yes"; he said. "Where shall we go?"

"There-here-anywhere!" cried young Erik, jumping to his feet and waving his beer-mug to three points of the horizon.

"The men in my town will take care of the harvest."

We were at sea again; my lord cynical on the after-deck, young Erik talking to the men.

We were pa.s.sing a sand-spit that ran out into the calm water just touched with ripples. Over the top of the sand we saw masts rising, and came out into the open again, where we could see the yellow over our sides through the light green water, the sand-spit falling behind-we saw three great s.h.i.+ps, heavy-masted, long-yard-armed and with sharp prow.