The Last of the Vikings

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The Last of the Vikings Page 27

by John Bowling


  CHAPTER XXVI.

  SAXON AND VIKING AT THE SWORD'S POINT.

  "Who overcomes By force hath overcome but half his foe."

  Milton..

  The burning and rankling feeling of hatred and contempt engendered inthe breast of Sigurd against Oswald (as the result of his spying asecond time upon the Saxon chieftain and Alice de Montfort) was of sucha consuming nature that he must needs force himself into the presence ofEthel at the very first opportunity. In tones fierce and rancorous, hetold her the story of Oswald's secret and unprincipled love--as heconsidered it--for the fair Norman.

  "Ethel, girl," said he, "I have dogged this renegade myself, and know ofa truth that he holds illicit intercourse with this dark-eyed Normanhussy, and that he keeps tryst with her o' nights when honest men areabed, deceiving Saxon and Norman alike."

  "What have I to do with this, my lord? I pray you pursue this matter nofarther," said Ethel.

  "All honest men, whether Saxon or Norse, have to do with traitors totheir country. This deceiver professes undying enmity against our commonfoe, but does not hesitate to betray his country and the Saxon cause towin a smile from this temptress."

  "My lord," said Ethel, in firm tones, "I cannot listen to your harshjudgments of him. He is our chosen leader, and I do not hesitate to sayin your hearing, he is our only possible leader. He is sagacious asbrave, and if _he_ cannot rally our scattered and dispirited people,then our cause is hopeless. I do not believe he is a renegade, as yousay. He is no traitor to his country, but her most valorous and faithfuldefender."

  "I tell thee, girl, he is in league with this siren! I know of what Ispeak! How can he prostrate himself before _her_ without despising andbetraying his own people?"

  "My lord, what is this to _me_? If he loves this fair Norman, it is notto be wondered at; she gave him his life. She is surpassingly beautiful;and she is virtuous and good as well. Listen, my lord, to what thepalmers tell us of her benefactions, and her kindness to those indistress."

  "She supplanted thee, girl, dost thou think of that? She hath stolenwhat of right should be thine--what would have been thine, but for her!How canst thou find excuses for this she-wolf and her base paramour?"

  "My lord, such words are an affront to me. A Saxon maiden does not needto go a-begging for a lover."

  "Ethel, thou dost tantalise me! Thou art blind. Thy love for him dothmake thee mad! But I will be avenged on them both, whether thou approveof it or not."

  "My lord," said Ethel, drawing herself to her full height, whilst hereyes flashed fire, "who told you I loved him? Are you going to make apalmer's song about me, and sing it through the whole camp? I will nothave you assuming what I have not told you. Let me tell you, once forall, a Saxon girl will love where she pleases, and only where shepleases. Your references are an insult to me!"

  This was said with all the energy she could command. Then, rising, shepassed hastily from the room. But scarcely had she closed the doorbehind her when her strength failed, and she sank exhausted into a seat.

  "Mercy on us!" shrieked Eadburgh, rushing off for a mug of cold water,and dashing it over her face with her fingers. "Whatever is the matter?That loutish fellow has been making love again, I'll warrant! He'lldrive the poor body clean mad if he does not let her alone. Such a greatmountain of flesh would frighten anybody, let alone a wee bit of alady-like creature as my mistress."

  Sigurd, we need not say, was still further maddened by this additionalrepulse, and in a rage which would brook no further control, he hurriedoff in quest of Oswald, whom he found superintending the efforts of theworkmen. Oswald saw that he was greatly agitated and evidently in aterrible passion.

  "A word in thine ear," he hissed fiercely to Oswald, as he passed.

  Oswald followed him until they were beyond the hearing of others.

  "What is thy business this morning, pray?" said Oswald, who saw quiteplainly that a rupture was imminent.

  "My errand is to unmask a traitor, and either make an honest man of him,or else make an end of him."

  "If thou hast business of such import as this--and thy looks betokenit--it were best to speak plainly, and come to the point at once."

  "My business is with thee, for thou art a renegade, and a trickster;dancing attendance on a Norman woman, and bartering thy country's causeand thy people's liberties, to win a smile from a trumpery Norman jade.Now thou hast it in plain terms."

  "Thou liest, Jarl. And once more thy madness passes the bounds oftoleration. Let me tell thee I will have no more ebullitions of thyungovernable temper, or any more of thy intriguing and sowing of discordamongst my people. So be pleased at once to betake thyself to thy owndomain, or anywhere thou likest, so that thou cross my path no more.There thou art at liberty to act thine own part without let orhindrance."

  "Ah, finely spoken, no doubt! and smoothly as any Norman courtier couldmouth it! Thou hast the trick of it, truly. But thou mayest save thyfine speeches, and lisp them to thy lady-love, for they win not upon me.I will tell thee further,--to put a few leagues of honest Saxon soilbetween thee and me will not heal our differences. Nor will I try such aremedy unless more wholesome methods fail me."

  "There are no differences between us, saving such as are hatched in thymuddy brain, Jarl; and what may be the methods of healing them whichthou hintest at, I know not. But I see that madman's look in thy eye,with which I am too familiar, and I opine that mischief, aye, deadlymischief, is designed by thee, if thy ability to work mischief fail theenot."

  "The curse of Skuld be upon thee, traitor! Thou hast guessed rightly, sodraw at once and stand upon thy guard, or I will run thee through withas little compunction as I would a dog," said the Viking, wildlybrandishing his sword, and advancing on Oswald.

  Whilst this war of words was proceeding, the whole camp was thoroughlyaroused, and curious eyes from every nook and corner anxiously peeredout to see what this fateful altercation would lead to. But when weaponswere unsheathed, the churls eagerly thronged about their respectivechieftains in feverish excitement. Oswald would fain have settled thisquarrel without appeal to arms; or if that could not be, then he wouldhave preferred it apart from the clamour and partizanship of the camp.Sigurd's unbridled rage, however, put this out of the question. Being,therefore, forced into this appeal to the sword, he unsheathed hisweapon; and the two broadswords, in the grip of two as powerfulantagonists as the sea-encircled lands of Britain contained, cametogether like the shock of lances in knightly charge.

  Oswald, unlike his opponent, was perfectly cool, though not by any meansblind or indifferent to the momentous issues involved in thislife-and-death struggle. He knew that any yielding, or declining of thecombat, either in the interest of peace, or for any other reason, meantthe loss of supremacy in the camp. He knew also that Sigurd meant it tobe to the death. Now, Oswald fell little short of Sigurd in sheer brutestrength and force; and in coolness of temper, agility, and skill, hewas much more than a match for his opponent. He saw clearly also thatthis was to be no child's play, but dead earnest. The look in the blackand louring visage of Sigurd, and the unmitigated ferocity of hisonslaught, told more plainly than words that he, at least, would give noquarter. Oswald fought a purely defensive battle, having no desire toinjure his foeman, but steadily parrying, with masterly skill, thethundering blows of Sigurd, steadily giving ground before his eager andimpetuous onslaught. None knew better than he, however, that vitalexhaustion must follow quickly on the heels of such dire rage; and itsoon became very evident to him that the pace was telling upon hisadversary. The rush and eagerness of his attack, and the consumingpassion within him, told their tale very speedily, for the perspirationpoured from him in streams, and his countenance became deadly pale. Thiswas soon followed by a palpable weakening of the strength of his wrist;and Oswald, watching carefully every stroke of his adversary, awaitedhis chance. Soon it came; and with one powerful blow he sent the weaponfrom Sigurd's grasp. Then, in a climax of senseless rage at losing hisweapon, Sigurd rushed
on Oswald, in the vain endeavour to close withhim. But Oswald, turning the flat of his sword, dealt him a powerfulblow on the head with its broadside, which knocked him senseless andbleeding to the ground. He quickly rose to his feet again, however.

  "There," said Oswald, coolly sheathing his weapon, "take thy sword. Ihave given thee thy life. Be advised, and cross my path no more whilstthou art in thy present mood, for, Saxon or no Saxon, there will be butone more passage-at-arms between me and thee; and thou mayest fare worseat our next meeting."

  "I offer thee no thanks for thy clemency, nor do I abate one jot of myhatred of thee and of thy womanish philandering with Norman wenches,when thy countrymen's blood cries aloud for vengeance. I warn thee totake heed lest, next time we meet, fortune may not be on thy side." So,with a scowl, he hurried off.

  Oswald remained for a long time with folded arms and bowed head, pacingto and fro on the sward, in anxious and troubled thought, which foundvent in audible words.

  "Too well I understand that foul menace, and well I understand theuntamed and implacable nature of this foe in my own household. When ourforefathers broke upon this land, wild and daring, counting human lifeas nothing, and ruthlessly trampling underfoot their fallen enemies,none more fierce and cruel in all the savage crews were there than he.But this is the question to be settled: were those old days ofheathenish rites and savage valour the prime days of our race? Ourforefathers braved all hazards, and they were a conquering people. Whatare we? Are we not abjectly ground down--a subject race, and serfs of abraver people? Is this lingering type of our ancient race in the right?What are books; and music; and chivalry? What is this lately born loveof mercy, and justice, and righteousness? Tell me, is it merely adebilitating southern wind come this way, transforming heroes intoeffeminate dreamers, and weaklings? Can I be again a Saxon of the oldtype?--for I must make my choice here, and now. A Viking, with savageinstincts, and implacable, undying hatred of my enemies; indulging inruthless butchery and indiscriminate massacre of helpless women andchildren. Can I see eye to eye with this man? This question I mustsettle once for all!"

  He took a turn, in deep mental conflict.

  "No!" said he, with concentrated energy; "it cannot be, come what may. Iabominate his savagery! I despise his ignorance, and his boorish habits!He and I can never be one in aim and action. Then, I owe my life to thisfair Norman; such a debt upon my honour calls aloud for a full requital.Besides all this," said he, whilst his broad chest heaved with thepowerful emotions which stirred within him, "waking I hear continuallythe music of her voice, and I see the love-light in her dark eye.Sleeping I commune with her, and I dream of days of peace and happinessto come. The die is cast, and my path is marked out for me! Perilous itis in very truth, with Norman foes destitute of mercy, and, added tothem, a foe in this mad Norseman, cruel and revengeful as death. I willfollow the light! Let God judge between me and this people he hath givenme to defend."

 

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