Chapter Twenty.
In which the Sky again becomes Overcast—The War-token is sent out—Alric gets a Surprise, and a Berserk catches a Tartar
Erling the Bold was very fond of salmon-fishing, and it was his wont, when the weather suited, and nothing of greater importance claimed his attention, to sally forth with a three-pronged spear to fish in the Horlingdal river, which swarmed with salmon in the summer season of the year.
One evening he left Haldorstede with his fishing-spear on his shoulder, and went up to the river, accompanied by one of the house-carles. They both wore shirts of mail, and carried shield and sword, for these were not times in which men could venture to go about unarmed. On reaching a place where the stream ran shallow among rocks, our hero waded in, and at the first dart of his spear struck a fish of about fifteen pounds weight, which he cast, like a bar of burnished silver, on the grassy bank.
“That will be our supper to-night,” observed the carle, as he disengaged the spear.
Erling made no reply, but in a few minutes he pulled out another fish, and said, as he threw it down—
“That will do for a friend, should one chance to turn in to us to-night.”
After that he tried again, but struck no more, although he changed his ground frequently; so he cast his eyes upwards as if to judge of the time of evening, and appeared to doubt whether or not he should persevere any longer.
“Try the foss,” suggested the house-carle; “you seldom fail to get one there.”
“Well, I will try it. Do thou leave the fish under that bush, and follow me. It needs three big fish to make a good feast for my father’s household.”
“Besides,” said the carle, “there is luck in an odd number, as Kettle Flatnose is fond of telling us.”
They were about to ascend the bank to the track which led to the waterfall, about half a mile farther up the river, when their attention was arrested by a shout; looking down the stream in the direction whence it came, they saw a figure approaching them at full speed.
“That must be my brother Alric,” said Erling, on hearing the shout repeated.
“It looks like him,” said the carle.
All doubt on the point was quickly set at rest by the lad, who ran at a pace which soon brought him near. Waving his cap above his head he shouted—
“News! news! good news!”
“Out with thy news, then,” said Erling, as Alric stood before him, panting violently, “though I dare say the best news thou hast to give is that thou hast come back to us safe and well.”
“Hah! let me get wind! nay, I have better news than that,” exclaimed Alric; “Harald is coming—King Harald Haarfager—with a monstrous fleet of longships, cutters, dragons, and little boats, and a mighty host of men, to lay waste Horlingdal with fire and sword, and burn us all alive, perhaps eat us too, who knows!”
“Truly if this be good news,” said Erling, with a laugh, “I hope I may never hear bad news. But where got ye such news, Alric?”
“From the widow Gunhild, to be sure, who is true to us as steel, and comes all the way from Drontheim, out of love to thee, Erling, to tell it. But, I say, don’t you think this good news? I always thought you would give your best battle-axe to have a chance of fighting Harald!”
“Aye, truly, for a chance of fighting Harald, but not for that chance coupled with the other chance of seeing Horlingdal laid waste with fire and sword, to say nothing of being eaten alive, which, I suppose, is thine own addition to the news, boy. But come, if this be so, we do not well to waste time chattering here. Fetch the two fish, carle. To-night we must be content with what luck lies in an even number in spite of the opinion of Kettle Flatnose.—Come, Alric, thou canst tell me more of this as we hasten home.”
“But I have more good news than that to tell,” said the lad, as they hurried towards Haldorstede. “Solve Klofe with his men have come back with us—indeed, I may rather say that we have come back with Solve, for our own ship has been wrecked and lost, but Kettle and I and Thorer and all the men were saved by Solve, with nearly everything belonging to us, and all the booty. It is not more than an hour since we sailed into the fiord, loaded to the shield-circle with, oh! such splendid things—gold, silver, cups, tankards, gems, shawls—and—and I know not what all, besides captives. It was just after we landed that a small boat came round the ness from the north with the widow Gunhild in it, and she jumped ashore, and told what she had seen and heard at Drontheim, and that we may expect Ada’s father, King Hakon, in his longship, to our aid; perhaps he may be coming into the fiord even now while we are talking. And—and, she said also that Rolf Ganger had left the King in a huff, and perhaps we might look for help from him too. So methinks I bring good news, don’t I?”
“Good, aye, and stirring news, my boy,” cried Erling striding onward at such a pace that the carle with the fish was left behind, and Alric was compelled to adopt an undignified trot in order to keep up with his huge brother. “From this I see,” continued Erling in a tone of deep seriousness, “that the long-looked-for time is at last approaching. This battle that must surely come will decide the fate of freemen. King Harald Haarfager must now be crushed, or Norway shall be enslaved. Alric, my boy, thou hast been styled Lightfoot. If ever thou didst strive to merit that title, strive this night as ye have never striven before, for there is urgent need that every friendly blade in the land should assemble in the dale without delay. I will send thee forth with the split arrow as soon as I have seen and spoken with my father.—Ha! I see him coming. Go into the house, lad, and sup well and quickly, for no sleep shall visit thine eyelids this night.”
Alric’s breast swelled with gratification at being spoken to thus earnestly and made of such importance by his brother, whom he admired and loved with an intensity of feeling that no words can convey. Looking up in his face with sparkling eyes, he gave him a little nod. Erling replied with another little nod and a sedate smile, and the boy, turning away, dashed into the house, at which they had now arrived.
“Hast heard the news, Erling?” asked Haldor, as his son drew near.
“Aye, Alric has told it me.”
“What thinkest thou?”
“That the game is about to be played out.”
Haldor looked full in Erling’s face, and his own noble countenance glowed with an expression of majesty which cannot be described, and which arose from the deep conviction that one of the most momentous eras in his life had arrived—a period in which his own fate and that of all he held most dear would in all probability be sealed. Death or victory, he felt assured, were now the alternatives; and when he reflected on the great power of the King, and the stern necessity there was for the exertion of not only the utmost bravery, but the most consummate skill, his whole being glowed with suppressed emotion, while his bearing betokened the presence, and bore the dignified stamp, of a settled purpose to do his best, and meet his fate, for weal or woe, manfully.
“Come,” said he, putting his arm within that of his stout son, “let us turn into the wood awhile. I would converse with thee on this matter.”
“Alric is ready to start with the token,” said Erling.
“I know it, my son. Let him sup first; the women will care well for him, for they will guess the work that lies before him. The people of Ulfstede are with us to-night, and Glumm is here; but Glumm is not of much use as a counsellor just now, poor fellow. It were kind to let him be, until it is time to rouse him up to fight!”
A quiet smile played on Haldor’s lips as he thus alluded to the impossibility of getting Glumm to think of anything but love or fighting at that time.
While the father and son strolled in the wood conversing earnestly, a noisy animated scene was presented in the great hall of Haldorstede; for in it were assembled, besides the ordinary household, the family from Ulfstede, a sprinkling of the neighbours, Gunhild and her men, Guttorm Stoutheart, and Solve Klofe, with Kettle Flatnose, Thorer the Thick, and the chief men who had arrived from the recent viking cruise; all of whom were talking together in the utmost excitement, while the fair Herfrida and her daughters and maids prepared a sumptuous meal.
In those days, and at such an establishment as that of Haldor the Fierce, it was not possible for friends to appear inopportunely. A dozen might have “dropped in” to breakfast, dinner, or supper, without costing Dame Herfrida an anxious thought as to whether the cold joint of yesterday “would do”, or something more must be procured, for she knew that the larder was always well stocked. When, therefore, a miniature army of hungry warriors made a sudden descent upon her, she was quite prepared for them—received them with the matronly dignity and captivating smile for which she was celebrated, and at once gave directions to her commissariat department to produce and prepare meat and drink suitable to the occasion.
The evening which had thus grown so unexpectedly big with present facts and future portents had begun in a very small way—in a way somewhat equivalent to the modern “small tea party”. Ulf of Romsdal, feeling a disposition “to make a night of it”, had propounded to Dame Astrid the idea of “going up to Haldorstede for the evening.” His wife, being amiably disposed, agreed. Hilda and Ada were equally willing, and Glumm, who by a mere chance happened to be there at the time, could not choose but accompany them!
The family at Haldorstede were delighted to see their friends. Dame Herfrida carried off Dame Astrid to her apartment to divest her of her hat and mantle. Ingeborg bore off Ada, and the younger girls of the household made away with Hilda, leaving Ulf to talk the politics of the day with Haldor, while Glumm pretended to listen to them, but listened, in reality, for Ada’s returning footsteps. In a short time the fair ones re-entered the hall, and there they had supper, or, more properly, an interlude supper—a sort of supperlet, so to speak, composed of cold salmon, scones, milk, and ale, which was intended, no doubt, to give them an appetite for the true supper that should follow ere long. Over this supperlet they were all very talkative and merry, with the exception, poor fellow, of Glumm, who sat sometimes glancing at, and always thinking of, Ada, and pendulating, as usual, between the condition of being miserably happy or happily miserable.
No mortal, save Glumm himself, could have told or conceived what a life Ada led him. She took him up by the neck, figuratively speaking, and shook him again and again as a terrier shakes a rat, and dropped him! But here the simile ceases, for whereas the rat usually crawls away, if it can, and evidently does not want more, Glumm always wanted more, and never crawled away. On the contrary, he crawled humbly back to the feet of his tormentor, and by looks, if not words, craved to be shaken again!
It was while Glumm was drinking this cup of mingled bliss and torment, and the others were enjoying their supperlet, that Solve Klofe and his men, and Kettle Flatnose, Thorer the Thick, and the house-carles, burst clamorously into the hall, with old Guttorm Stoutheart, who had met them on the beach. Scarcely had they got over the excitement of this first invasion when the widow Gunhild and her niece arrived to set the household ablaze with her alarming news. The moment that Haldor heard it he dispatched Alric in search of Erling, who, as we have seen, immediately returned home.
Shortly afterwards he and Haldor entered the hall.
“Ho! my men,” cried the latter, “to arms, to arms! Busk ye for the fight, and briskly too, for when Harald Haarfager lifts his hand he is not slow to strike. Where is Alric?”
“Here I am, father.”
“Hast fed well, boy?”
“Aye, famously,” answered Alric, wiping his mouth and tightening his belt.
“Take the war-token, my son, and see that thou speed it well. Let it not fail for want of a messenger. If need be, go all the round thyself, and rest not as long as wind and limb hold out. Thy fighting days have begun early,” he added in a softer tone, as he passed his large hand gently over the fair head of the boy, “perchance they will end early. But, whatever betide, Alric, quit thee like a man—as thou art truly in heart if not in limb.”
Such words from one who was not at any time lavish of praise might, a short time before, have caused the boy to hold up his head proudly, but the last year of his life had been fraught with many lessons. He listened with a heaving breast and beating heart indeed, but with his head bent modestly down, while on his flushed countenance there was a bright expression, and on his lips a glad smile which spoke volumes. His father felt assured, as he looked at him, that he would never bring discredit on his name.
“Ye know the course,” said Haldor; “away!”
In another minute Alric was running at full speed up the glen with the war-token in his hand. His path was rugged, his race was wild, and its results were striking. He merely shouted as he passed the windows of the cottages low down in the dale, knowing that the men there would be roused by others near at hand; but farther on, where the cottages were more scattered, he opened the door of each and showed the token, uttering a word or two of explanation during the brief moment he stayed to swallow a mouthful of water or to tighten his belt.
At first his course lay along the banks of the river, every rock and shrub of which he knew. Farther on he left the stream on the right, and struck into the mountains just as the sun went down.
High up on the fells a little cottage stood perched on a cliff. It was one of the “saeters” or mountain dairies where the cattle were pastured in summer long ago—just as they are at the present day. Alric ran up the steep face of the hill, doubled swiftly round the corner of the enclosure, burst open the door, and, springing in, held up the token, while he wiped the streaming perspiration from his face.
A man and his wife, with three stout sons and a comely daughter, were seated on a low bench eating their supper of thickened milk.
“The war-token!” exclaimed the men, springing up, and, without a moment’s delay, taking down and girding on the armour which hung round the walls.
“King Harald is on his way to the dale,” said Alric; “we assemble at Ulfstede.”
“Shall I bear on the token?” asked the youngest of the men.
“Aye; but go thou with it up the Wolf’s Den Valley. I myself will bear it round by the Eagle Crag and the coast.”
“That is a long way,” said the man, taking his shield down from a peg in the wall.
Alric replied not, for he had already darted away, and was again speeding along the mountain side.
Night had begun to close in, for the season had not yet advanced to the period of endless daylight. Far away in an offshoot vale, a bright ruddy light gleamed through the surrounding darkness. Alric’s eye was fixed on it. His untiring foot sped towards it. The roar of a mighty cataract grew louder on his ear every moment. He had to slacken his pace a little, and pick his steps as he went on, for the path was rugged and dangerous.
“I wonder if Old Hans of the Foss is at home?” was the thought that passed through his mind as he approached the door.
Old Hans himself answered the thought by opening the door at that moment. He was a short, thick-set, and very powerful man, of apparently sixty years of age, but his eye was as bright and his step as light as that of many a man of twenty.
“The war-token,” he said, almost gaily, stepping back into the cottage as Alric leaped in. “What is doing, son of Haldor?”
“King Harald will be upon us sooner than we wish. Ulfstede is the meeting-place. Can thy son speed on the token in the next valley?”
The old warrior shook his head sadly, and pointed to a low bed, where a young man lay with the wasted features and bright eyes that told of a deadly disease in its advanced stage.
An exclamation of regret and sympathy escaped from Alric. “I cannot go,” he said; “my course lies to the left, by the Stor foss. Hast no one to send?”
“I will go, father,” said a smart girl of fifteen, who had been seated behind her mother, near the couch of the sick man.
“Thou, bairn?”
“Yes, why not? It is only a league to Hawksdal, where young Eric will gladly relieve me.”
“True,” said the old warrior, with a smile, as he began to don his armour. “Go; I need not tell thee to make haste!”
Alric waited to hear no more, but darted away as the little maid tripped off in another direction.
Thus hour by hour the night passed by and Alric ran steadily on his course, rousing up all the fighting men in his passage through the district. As he advanced, messengers with war-tokens were multiplied, and, ere the morning’s sun had glinted on the mountain peaks or lighted up the white fields of the Justedal glacier, the whole country was in arms, and men were crowding to the rendezvous.
Daylight had just commenced to illumine the eastern sky, when Alric, having completed his round, found himself once more on the cliffs above the sea. But he was still six or eight miles from Ulfstede, and the path to it along the top of the cliffs was an extremely rugged one. Earnestly then did the poor boy wish that he had remembered to put a piece of bread in his wallet before leaving home, but in his haste he had forgotten to do so, and now he found himself weary, foot-sore, and faint from exertion, excitement, and hunger, far from any human habitation. As there was no remedy for this, he made up his mind to take a short rest on the grass, and then set off for home as fast as possible.
With this end in view he selected a soft spot, on a cliff overlooking the sea, and lay down with a sigh of satisfaction. Almost instantly he fell into a deep slumber, in which he lay, perfectly motionless, for some hours. How long that slumber would have lasted it is impossible to say, for it was prematurely and unpleasantly interrupted.
In his cat-like creepings about the coast, Hauskuld the berserk, having obtained all the information that he thought would be of use to his royal master, landed for the last time to reconnoitre the position of Ulfstede, and see as much as he could of the doings of the people before turning his prow again to the north. The spot where he ran his boat ashore was at the foot of a steep cliff, up which he and a comrade ascended with some difficulty.
At the top, to his surprise, he found a lad lying on the grass sound asleep. After contemplating him for a few minutes, and whispering a few words to his comrade, who indulged in a broad grin, Hauskuld drew his sword and pricked Alric on the shoulder with it. An electric shock could not have been more effective. The poor boy sprang up with a loud cry, and for a few seconds gazed at the berserks in bewilderment. Then it flashed upon his awakening faculties that he was standing before enemies, so he suddenly turned round and fled, but Hauskuld sprang after him, and, before he had got three yards away, had caught him by the nape of the neck with a grip that made him gasp.
“Ho, ho! my young fox, so ye thought to leave the hounds in the lurch? Come, cease thy kicking, else will I give thee an inch of steel to quiet thee. Tell me thy name, and what thou art about here, and I will consider whether to make use of thee or hurl thee over the cliffs.”
By this time Alric had fully recovered his senses and his self-possession. He stood boldly up before the berserk and replied—
“My name is Alric—son of Haldor the Fierce, out of whose way I advise thee to keep carefully, if thou art not tired of life. I have just been round with the war-token rousing the country.”
“A most proper occupation for an eaglet such as thou,” said Hauskuld; “that is to say, if the cause be a good one.”
“The cause is one of the best,” said Alric.
“Prithee, what may it be?”
“Self-defence against a tyrant.”
Hauskuld glanced at his comrade, and smiled sarcastically as he asked—
“And who may this tyrant be?”
“Harald Haarfager, tyrant King of Norway,” replied the lad stoutly.
“I thought so,” said Hauskuld, with a grim twist of his features. “Well, young eaglet, thou art worthy to be made mincemeat of to feed the crows, but it may be that the tyrant would like to dispose of thee himself. Say now, whether will ye walk down that cliff quietly in front of me, or be dragged down?”
“I would rather walk, if I must go.”
“Well, thou must go, therefore—walk, and see thou do it as briskly as may be, else will I apply the spur, which thou hast felt once already this morning. Lead the way, comrade; I will bring up the rear to prevent the colt from bolting.”
As he knew that resistance would be useless, the boy promptly and silently descended the cliff with his captors, and entered the boat, which was immediately pushed off and rowed along-shore.
“Now listen to me, Alric, son of Haldor,” said Hauskuld, seating himself beside his captive: “King Harald is not the tyrant you take him for; he is a good king, and anxious to do the best he can for Norway. Some mistaken men, like your father, compel him to take strong measures when he would fain take mild. If you will take me to a spot where I may safely view the valley of Horlingdal, and tell me all you know about their preparations for resistance, I will take you back to Drontheim, and speak well of you to the King, who will not only reward you with his favour, but make good terms, I doubt not, with your father.”
The wily berserk had changed his tone to that of one who addresses a superior in rank while he thus tempted the boy; but he little guessed the spirit of his captive.
“What!” he exclaimed scornfully; “wouldst thou have me turn traitor to my own father?”
“Nay, I would have you turn wise for the sake of your father and yourself. Think well of what I say, and all I ask of you is to guide me to a good point of observation. There is a cave, they say, near Ulfstede, with its mouth to the sea, and a secret entrance from the land. No doubt I could find it myself with a little trouble, but it would save time if you were to point it out.”
“Never!” exclaimed Alric sternly.
“Truly thou art a chip of the old tree,” said Hauskuld, taking Alric’s ear between his finger and thumb; “but there are means to take which have been known to bend stouter hearts than thine. Say, wilt thou show me the cave?”
He pinched the ear with gradually increasing force as he spoke, but Alric neither spoke nor winced, although the blood which rushed to his face showed that he felt the pain keenly.
“Well, well,” said the berserk, relaxing his grip, “this is a torture only fit for very small boys after all. Hand me the pincers, Arne.”
One of the men drew in his oar, and from a locker pulled out a pair of large pincers, which he handed to his chief, who at once applied them to the fleshy part at the back of Alric’s arm, between the elbow and the shoulder.
“When thou art willing to do as I bid thee, I will cease to pinch,” said Hauskuld.
Poor Alric had turned pale at the sight of the pincers, for he knew well the use they would be put to; but he set his teeth tightly together, and determined to endure it. As the pain increased the blood rushed again to his face, but an extra squeeze of the instrument of torture sent it rushing back with a deadly chill to his heart. In spite of himself, a sharp cry burst from his lips. Turning suddenly round, he clenched his right hand, and hit his tormentor on the mouth with such force that his head was knocked violently against the steering oar, and two or three of his front teeth were driven out.
“Thou dog’s whelp!” shouted Hauskuld, as soon as he could speak. “I’ll—”
He could say no more; but, grasping the boy by the hair of the head, he seized his sword, and would certainly have slain him on the spot, had not the man named Arne interposed.
“The King will not thank thee for his slaying,” said he, laying his hand on Hauskuld’s arm.
The latter made no reply except to utter a curse, then, dropping his sword, he struck Alric a blow on the forehead with his fist, which knocked him insensible into the bottom of the boat.
“Yonder is the mouth of the cave,” exclaimed one of the men.
“It may be the one we look for,” muttered Hauskuld. “Pull into it.”
So saying, he steered the boat into the cavern, and its keel soon grated on the gravelly beach inside. The sound aroused Alric, who at first could not see, owing to the gloom of the place, and the effects of the blow; but he was brought suddenly to a state of mental activity and anxiety when he recognised the sides of the well-known cave. Rising quickly but cautiously, he listened, and knew by the sounds that the boatmen, of whom there were eight, were searching for an outlet towards the land. He therefore slipped over the side of the boat, and hastened towards the darkest side of the cave, but Hauskuld caught sight of him.
“Ha! is the little dog trying to get away?” he shouted, running after him.
The lad formed his plan instantly. “Come on, Hauskuld,” he shouted, with a wild laugh; “I will show thee the outlet, and get out before thee too.”
He then ran to the inner part of the cave that was farthest from the secret opening, shouting as he ran, and making as much noise as possible. The berserk and his men followed. The instant he reached the extremity of the place Alric became as silent as a mouse, kicked off his shoes, and ran nimbly round by the intricate turnings of the inner wall, until he came to the foot of the dark natural staircase, which has been referred to at the beginning of our tale. Up this he bounded, and reached the open air above, while his pursuers were still knocking their shins and heads on the rocks at the wrong end of the cave below.
Without a moment’s pause the exulting boy dashed away towards Ulfstede. He had not run two hundred yards, however, when he observed three men standing on the top of the little mound to which the people of Ulfstede were wont to mount when they wished to obtain an uninterrupted view of the valley and the fiord. They hailed him at that moment, so he turned aside, and found, on drawing near, that they were his brother Erling, Glumm the Gruff, and Kettle Flat-nose.
“Why, Alric!” exclaimed Erling in surprise, on seeing the boy’s swelled and bloody face, “what ails thee?”
“Quick, come with me, all of ye! There is work for your swords at hand. Lend me thy sword, Erling. It is the short one, and the axe will be enough for thee.”
The excited lad did not wait for permission, but snatched the sword from his brother’s side, and without further explanation, ran back towards the cliffs, followed closely by the astonished men. He made straight for the hole that led to the cave, and was about to leap into it when Hauskuld stepped out and almost received him in his arms. Before the berserk could plant his feet firmly on the turf, Alric heaved up his brother’s sword and brought it down on Hauskuld’s head with right good will. His arm, however, had not yet received power to cleave through a steel helmet, but the blow was sufficient to give it such a dint that its wearer tumbled back into the hole, and went rattling down the steep descent heels over head into the cave. The boy leaped down after him, but Hauskuld, although taken by surprise and partially stunned, had vigour enough left to jump up and run down to the boat. His men, on hearing the noise of his fall, had also rushed to the boat, and pushed off. The berserk sprang into the water, and swam after them, just as his pursuers reached the cave. Seeing this, his men being safe beyond pursuit, lay on their oars and waited for him. But Hauskuld’s career had been run out. Either the fall had stunned him, or he was seized with a fit, for he suddenly raised himself in the water, and, uttering a cry that echoed fearfully in the roof of the cavern, he sank to the bottom. Still his men waited a minute or two, but seeing that he did not rise again, they pulled away.
“It is unlucky that they should have escaped thus,” said Alric, “for they go to tell King Harald what they have seen.”
“Friends,” said Erling, “I have a plan in my head to cheat the King. I shall send Thorer round with my Swan to this cave, and here let it lie, well armed and provisioned, during the battle that we shall have to fight with Harald ere long. If ill luck should be ours, those of us who survive will thus have a chance of escaping with the women.”
“What need is there of that?” said Glumm; “we are sure to give him the tooth-ache!”
“We are sure of nothing in this world,” replied Erling, “save that the sun will rise and set and the seasons will come and go. I shall do as I have said, chiefly for the sake of the women, whom I should not like to see fall into the hands of King Harald; and I counsel thee to do the same with thy small ship the Crane. It can well be spared, for we are like to have a goodly force of men and ships, if I mistake not the spirit that is abroad.”
“Well, I will do it,” said Glumm.
“And Alric will not object, I dare say, to stand sentinel over the ships in the cave with two or three men till they are wanted,” said Erling.
“That will not I,” cried Alric, who was delighted to be employed in any service rather than be left at home, for his father, deeming him still too young, had strictly forbidden him to embark in the fleet.
“Well then, the sooner this is set about the better,” said Erling, “for there is no counting on the movements of the King.”
“Humph!” ejaculated Glumm.
“Ill luck to the tyrant!” said Kettle Flatnose, as they turned and left the cave.