Eric Brighteyes

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Eric Brighteyes Page 11

by H. Rider Haggard


  "Where the Norns lead there I must follow," said Eric, and sat down tomeat. Skallagrim sat down also at the side-bench; but men shrank fromhim, and he glowered on them in answer.

  Presently Gudruda entered, and she seemed pale and faint.

  When he had done eating, Eric drew Gudruda on to his knee, and she satthere, resting her golden head upon his breast. But Swanhild did notcome into the hall, though ever Earl Atli sought her dark face andlovely eyes of blue, and he wondered greatly how his wooing had sped.Still, at this time he spoke no more of it to Asmund.

  Now Skallagrim drank much ale, and glared about him fiercely; for hehad this fault, that at times he was drunken. In front of him were twothralls of Asmund's; they were brothers, and large-made men, and theywatched Asmund's sheep upon the fells in winter. These two also grewdrunk and jeered at Skallagrim, asking him what atonement he would makefor those ewes of Asmund's that he had stolen last Yule, and how it cameto pass that he, a Baresark, had been overthrown of an unarmed man.

  Skallagrim bore their gibes for a space as he drank on, but suddenlyhe rose and rushed at them, and, seizing a man's throat in either hand,thrust them to the ground beneath him and nearly choked them there.

  Then Eric ran down the hall, and, putting out his strength, tore theBaresark from them.

  "This then is thy peacefulness, thou wolf!" Eric cried. "Thou artdrunk!"

  "Ay," growled Skallagrim, "ale is many a man's doom."

  "Have a care that it is not thine and mine, then!" said Eric. "Go,sleep; and know that, if I see thee thus once more, I see thee notagain."

  But after this men jeered no more at Skallagrim Lambstail, Eric'sthrall.

  XI

  HOW SWANHILD BID FAREWELL TO ERIC

  Now all this while Asmund sat deep in thought; but when, at length, menwere sunk in sleep, he took a candle of fat and passed to the shut bedwhere Swanhild slept alone. She lay on her bed, and her curling hair wasall about her. She was awake, for the light gleamed in her blue eyes,and on a naked knife that was on the bed beside her, half hidden by herhair.

  "What wouldst thou, foster-father?" she asked, rising in the couch.Asmund closed the curtains, then looked at her sternly and spoke in alow voice:

  "Thou art fair to be so vile a thing, Swanhild," he said. "Who nowwould have dreamed that heart of thine could talk with goblins and withwere-wolves--that those eyes of thine could bear to look on murder andthose white hands find strength to do the sin?"

  She held up her shapely arms and, looking on them, laughed. "Would thatthey had been fashioned in a stronger mould," she said. "May they witherin their woman's weakness! else had the deed been done outright. Now mycrime is as heavy upon me and nothing gained by it. Say what fate forme, foster-father--the Stone of Doom and the pool where faithless womenlie? Ah, then might Gudruda laugh indeed, and I will not live to hearthat laugh. See," and she gripped the dagger at her side: "along thisbright edge runs the path to peace and freedom, and, if need be, I willtread it."

  "Be silent," said Asmund. "This Gudruda, my daughter, whom thou wouldsthave foully done to death, is thine own sister, and it is she who,pitying thee, hath pleaded for thy life."

  "I will naught of her pity who have no pity," she answered; "and thisI say to thee who art my father: shame be on thee who hast not dared toown thy child!"

  "Hadst thou not been my child, Swanhild, and had I not loved theesecretly as my child, be sure of this, I had long since driven theehence; for my eyes have been open to much that I have not seemed to see.But at length thy wickedness has overcome my love, and I will see thyface no more. Listen: none have heard of this shameful deed of thinesave those who saw it, and their tongues are sealed. Now I give theechoice: wed Atli and go, or stand in the Doom-ring and take thy fate."

  "Have I not said, father, while death may be sought otherwise, that Iwill never do this last? Nor will I do the first. I am not all of thetame breed of you Iceland folk--other and quicker blood runs in myveins; nor will I be sold in marriage to a dotard as a mare is sold at amarket. I have answered."

  "Fool! think again, for I go not back upon my word. Wed Atli or die--bythy own hand, if thou wilt--there I will not gainsay thee; or, if thoufearest this, then anon in the Doom-ring."

  Now Swanhild covered her eyes with her hands and shook the long hairabout her face, and she seemed wondrous fair to Asmund the Priest whowatched. And as she sat thus, it came into her mind that marriage isnot the end of a young maid's life--that old husbands have been known todie, and that she might rule this Atli and his earldom and become a richand honoured woman, setting her sails in such fashion that when the windturned it would fill them. Otherwise she must die--ay, die shamed andleave Gudruda with her love.

  Suddenly she slipped from the bed to the floor of the chamber, and,clasping the knees of Asmund, looked up through the meshes of her hair,while tears streamed from her beautiful eyes:

  "I have sinned," she sobbed--"I have sinned greatly against thee and mysister. Hearken: I was mad with love of Eric, whom from a child I haveturned to, and Gudruda is fairer than I and she took him from me. Mostof all was I mad this night when I wrought the deed of shame, for illthings counselled me--things that I did not call; and oh, I thank theGods--if there are Gods--that Gudruda died not at my hand. See now,father, I put this evil from me and tear Eric from my heart," and shemade as though she rent her bosom--"I will wed Atli, and be a goodhousewife to him, and I crave but this of Gudruda: that she forgive meher wrong; for it was not done of my will, but of my madness, and of thedriving of those whom my mother taught me to know."

  Asmund listened and the springs of his love thawed within him. "Now thoudost take good counsel," he said, "and of this be sure, that so long asthou art in that mood none shall harm thee; and for Gudruda, she is themost gentle of women, and it may well be that she will put away thy sin.So weep no more, and have no more dealings with thy Finnish witchcraft,but sleep; and to-morrow I will bear thy word to Atli, for his ship isbound and thou must swiftly be made a wife."

  He went out, bearing the light with him; but Swanhild rose from theground and sat on the edge of the bed, staring into the darkness andshuddering from time to time.

  "I shall soon be made his wife," she murmured, "who would be but oneman's wife--and methinks I shall soon be made a widow also. Thou wilthave me, dotard--take me and thy fate! Well, well; better to wed an Earlthan to be shamed and stretched across the Doom-stone. Oh, weak armsthat failed me at my need, no more will I put trust in you! When next Iwound, it shall be with the tongue; when next I strive to slay, it shallbe by another's hand. Curses on thee, thou ill counseller of darkness,who didst betray me at the last! Is it for this that I worshipped theeand swore the oath?"

  The morning came, and at the first light Asmund sought the Earl. Hisheart was heavy because of the guile that his tongue must practise, andhis face was dark as a winter dawn.

  "What news, Asmund?" asked Atli. "_Early tidings are bad tidings_, soruns the saw, and thy looks give weight to it."

  "Not altogether bad, Earl. Swanhild gives herself to thee."

  "Of her own will, Asmund?"

  "Ay, of her own will. But I have warned thee of her temper."

  "Her temper! Little hangs to a maid's temper. Once a wife and itwill melt in softness like the snow when summer comes. These are gladtidings, comrade, and methinks I grow young again beneath the breath ofthem. Why art thou so glum then?"

  "There is something that must yet be told of Swanhild," said Asmund."She is called the Fatherless, but, if thou wilt have the truth, whyhere it is for thee--she is my daughter, born out of wedlock, and I knownot how that will please thee."

  Atli laughed aloud, and his bright eyes shone in his wrinkled face. "Itpleases me well, Asmund, for then the maid is sprung from a sound stock.The name of the Priest of Middalhof is famous far south of Iceland; andnever that Iceland bred a comelier girl. Is that all?"

  "One more thing, Earl. This I charge thee: watch thy wife, and hold herback from witchcraft and from dea
lings with evil things and trolls ofdarkness. She is of Finnish blood and the women of the Finns are muchgiven to such wicked work."

  "I set little store by witchwork, goblins and their kin," said Atli. "Idoubt me much of their power, and I shall soon wean Swanhild from suchways, if indeed she practise them."

  Then they fell to talking of Swanhild's dower, and that was not small.Afterwards Asmund sought Eric and Gudruda, and told them what had cometo pass, and they were glad at the news, though they grieved for Atlithe Earl. And when Swanhild met Gudruda, she came to her humbly, andhumbly kissed her hand, and with tears craved pardon of her evil doing,saying that she had been mad; nor did Gudruda withhold it, for of allwomen she was the gentlest and most forgiving. But to Eric, Swanhildsaid nothing.

  The wedding-feast must be held on the third day from this, for Atliwould sail on that same day, since his people wearied of waiting and hisship might lie bound no longer. Blithe was Atli the Earl, and Swanhildwas all changed, for now she seemed the gentlest of maids, and, asbefitted one about to be made a wife, moved through the house with softwords and downcast eyes. But Skallagrim, watching her, bethought him ofthe grey wolf that he had seen by Goldfoss, and this seemed not well tohim.

  "It would be bad now," he said to Eric, as they rode to Coldback, "tostand in yon old earl's shoes. This woman's weather has changed toofast, and after such a calm there'll come a storm indeed. I am nowminded of Thorunna, for she went just so the day before she gave herselfto Ospakar, and me to shame and bonds."

  "Talk not of the raven till you hear his croak," said Eric.

  "He is on the wing, lord," answered Skallagrim.

  Now Eric came to Coldback in the Marsh, and Saevuna his mother and Unna,Thorod's daughter, the betrothed of Asmund, were glad to welcome him;for the tidings of his mighty deeds and of the overthrow of Ospakarand the slaying of Mord were noised far and wide. But at SkallagrimLambstail they looked askance. Still, when they heard of those thingsthat he had wrought on Horse-Head Heights, they welcomed him for hisdeed's sake.

  Eric sat two nights at Coldback, and on the second day Saevuna hismother and Unna rode thence with their servants to the wedding-feast ofSwanhild the Fatherless. But Eric stopped at Coldback that night, sayingthat he would be at Middalhof within two hours of sunrise, for he musttalk with a shepherd who came from the fells.

  Saevuna and her company came to Middalhof and was asked, first byGudruda, then by Swanhild, why Brighteyes tarried. She answered that hewould be there early on the morrow. Next morning, before it was light,Eric girded on Whitefire, took horse and rode from Coldback alone, forhe would not bring Skallagrim, fearing lest he should get drunk at thefeast and shed some man's blood.

  It was Swanhild's wedding-day; but she greeted it with littlelightsomeness of heart, and her eyes knew no sleep that night, thoughthey were heavy with tears.

  At the first light she rose, and, gliding from the house, walked throughthe heavy dew down the path by which Eric must draw near, for shedesired to speak with him. Gudruda also rose a while after, though shedid not know this, and followed on the same path, for she would greether lover at his coming.

  Now three furlongs or more from the stead stood a vetch stack, andSwanhild waited on the further side of this stack. Presently she hearda sound of singing come from behind the shoulder of the fell and of thetramp of a horse's hoofs. Then she saw the golden wings of Eric'shelm all ablaze with the sunlight as he rode merrily along, and greatbitterness laid hold of her that Eric could be of such a joyous mood onthe day when she who loved him must be made the wife of another man.

  Presently he was before her, and Swanhild stepped from the shadow of thestack and laid her hand upon his horse's bridle.

  "Eric," she said humbly and with bowed head, "Gudruda sleeps yet. Canstthou, then, find time to hearken to my words?"

  He frowned and said: "Methinks, Swanhild, it would be better if thougavest thy words to him who is thy lord."

  She let the bridle-rein drop from her hands. "I am answered," she said;"ride on."

  Now pity stirred in Eric's heart, for Swanhild's mien was most heavy,and he leaped down from his horse. "Nay," he said, "speak on, if thouhast anything to tell me."

  "I have this to tell thee, Eric; that now, before we part for ever, I amcome to ask thy pardon for my ill-doing--ay, and to wish all joy to theeand thy fair love," and she sobbed and choked.

  "Speak no more of it, Swanhild," he said, "but let thy good deeds coverup the ill, which are not small; so thou shalt be happy."

  She looked at him strangely, and her face was white with pain.

  "How then are we so differently fashioned that thou, Eric, canst prateto me of happiness when my heart is racked with grief? Oh, Eric, I blamethee not, for thou hast not wrought this evil on me willingly; but Isay this: that my heart is dead, as I would that I were dead. See thoseflowers: they smell sweet--for me they have no odour. Look on the lightleaping from Coldback to the sea, from the sea to Westman Isles, andfrom the Westman crown of rocks far into the wide heavens above. It isbeautiful, is it not? Yet I tell thee, Eric, that now to my eyes howlingwinter darkness is every whit as fair. Joy is dead within me, music'sbut a jangled madness in my ears, food hath no savour on my tongue, myyouth is sped ere my dawn is day. Nothing is left to me, Eric, save thisfair body that thou didst scorn, and the dreams which I may gather frommy hours of scanty sleep, and such shame as befalls a loveless bride."

  "Speak not so, Swanhild," he said, and clasped her by the hand, for,though he loathed her wickedness, being soft-hearted and but young, itgrieved him to hear her words and see the anguish of her mind. For it isso with men, that they are easily moved by the pleading of a fair womanwho loves them, even though they love her not.

  "Yea, I will speak out all my mind before I seal it up for ever. See,Eric, this is my state and thou hast set this crown of sorrow on mybrows: and thou comest singing down the fell, and I go weeping o'er thesea! I am not all so ill at heart. It was love of thee that drove medown to sin, as love of thee might otherwise have lifted me to holiness.But, loving thee as thou seest, this day I wed a dotard, and go hischattel and his bride across the sea, and leave thee singing on thefell, and by thy side her who is my foe. Thou hast done great deeds,Brighteyes, and still greater shalt thou do; yet but as echoes theyshall reach my ears. Thou wilt be to me as one dead, for it is Gudruda'sto bind the byrnie on thy breast when thou goest forth to war, and hersto loose the winged helm from thy brow when thou returnest, battle-wornand conquering."

  Now Swanhild ceased, and choked with grief; then spoke again:

  "So now farewell; doubtless I weary thee, and--Gudruda waits. Nay, looknot on my foolish tears: they are the heritage of woman, of naught elseis she sure! While I live, Eric, morn by morn the thought of thee shallcome to wake me as the sun wakes yon snowy peak, and night by nightthy memory shall pass as at eve he passes from the valleys, but to dawnagain in dreams. For, Eric, 'tis thee I wed to-day--at heart I am thybride, thine and thine only; and when shalt thou find a wife who holdsthee so dear as that Swanhild whom once thou knewest? So now farewell!Yes, this time thou shalt kiss away my tears; then let them stream forever. Thus, Eric! and thus! and thus! do I take farewell of thee."

  And now she clung about his neck, gazing on him with great dewy eyestill things grew strange and dim, and he must kiss her if only for herlove and tender beauty's sake. And so he kissed, and it chanced thatas they clung thus, Gudruda, passing by this path to give her betrothedgreeting, came upon them and stood astonished. Then she turned and,putting her hands to her head, fled back swiftly to the stead, andwaited there, great anger burning in her heart; for Gudruda had thisfault, that she was very jealous.

  Now Eric and Swanhild did not see her, and presently they parted, andSwanhild wiped her eyes and glided thence.

  As she drew near the stead she found Gudruda watching.

  "Where hast thou been, Swanhild?" she said.

  "To bid farewell to Brighteyes, Gudruda."

  "Then thou art foolish, f
or doubtless he thrust thee from him."

  "Nay, Gudruda, he drew me to him. Hearken, I say, thou sister. Vex menot, for I go my ways and thou goest thine. Thou art strong and fair,and hitherto thou hast overcome me. But I am also fair, and, if I findspace to strike in, I also have a show of strength. Pray thou that Ifind not space, Gudruda. Now is Eric thine. Perchance one day he may bemine. It lies in the lap of the Norns."

  "Fair words from Atli's bride," mocked Gudruda.

  "Ay, Atli's bride, but never Atli's love!" said Swanhild, and swept on.

  A while after Eric rode up. He was shamefaced and vexed at heart,because he had yielded thus to Swanhild's beauty, and been melted by hertender words and kissed her. Then he saw Gudruda, and at the sight ofher all thought of Swanhild passed from him, for he loved Gudruda andher alone. He leapt down from his horse and ran to her. But, drawn toher full height, she stood with dark flashing eyes and fair face set inanger.

  Still, he would have greeted her loverwise; but she lifted her hand andwaved him back, and fear took hold of him.

  "What now, Gudruda?" he asked, faltering.

  "What now, Eric?" she answered, faltering not. "Hast seen Swanhild?"

  "Yea, I have seen Swanhild. She came to bid farewell to me. What of it?"

  "What of it? Why '_thus! and thus! and thus!_' didst thou bid farewellto Atli's bride. Ay, 'thus and thus,' with clinging lips and twinedarms. Warm and soft was thy farewell kiss to her who would have slainme, Brighteyes!"

  "Gudruda, thou speakest truth, though how thou sawest I know not. Thinkno ill of it, and scourge me not with words, for, sooth to say, I wasmelted by her grief and the music of her talk."

 

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