Swords From the Sea

by Harold Lamb

  Swift as a startled deer she sprang to her feet and away from him. Valgard said rightly that Astrid did not know her own beauty. Standing there with hair untied and indignant, she had, Karli thought, the bearing of a storm maiden. He knew she was a girl who had never been humbled by man's hand.

  "You would like," she cried again fiercely, "to lead me into your ship, to hold hostage to save your life from the warden's swords."

  He rose to his feet and his ruddy face went white.

  "Use you as a shield I would not," he said gravely, "for it is in my mind to take you as a bride from Sir Thord."

  She gasped. "And-and what think you he would answer?"

  "I am not skilled in this matter of wooing," muttered Karli uneasily, "but perhaps he will give you up without too much regret."

  Astrid's gray eyes twinkled and she laughed low. "You are not a wooer at all but a great fool. Now you cannot keep me as a hostage-see, I am out of your reach."

  "You will not fly so fast I cannot overtake you."

  Challenged, the girl turned and ran fleetly toward the trees. She heard metal clash behind her and glanced over her shoulder to see if Karli had fallen. Instead, he had come upon her with two long leaps. He caught the girl up in his arms, his shield beneath her knees, his free arm pinning hers behind her back. His strength astonished and dismayed her. Then his head bent and he kissed her eyes and lips.

  Gently he set her down. "Tell me your name," he said.

  "Astrid."

  "Now, you see, Astrid, that I free you of my own will. It shall not be said of the Red Elf that he took his wife by force without a fair and proper wooing."

  Blood rushed through her heart, heating her cheeks and singing in her ears. Then a new thing came into her bewildered head. The Red Elf had the gift of foresight. Was he looking now into the unseen? Fear came upon her again, and she ran back into the trees. Once she stopped and looked back. After all, he had let her go. He was leaning on his long-spear, his eyes following her. She went on, vanishing into the dark pines.

  Karli walked slowly down to the shore. He had forgotten his scarlet mantle that lay upon the rock. At his coming a dozen stalwart Vikings looked up inquiringly.

  "Back to the ship," he said, passing them.

  He went on, to the flat rock of the landing, and over the long plank, stepping past the shields on the ship's rail. He went to his quarters on the high stern, curtained in with leather sheets. Rolling aside his sleeping furs, he lifted a plank beneath them, reaching down into a compartment where chests of iron and sandalwood were stored with rolls of clothof-gold, brocades, and silk. He took out a carved casket that held ropes of softly gleaming pearls, with emerald necklets. They would bring color to Astrid's beauty.

  After a moment he said, "Bring out the carpets, and hang out the gold lanterns. I mean to bring a bride to the ship this night."

  The Vikings exchanged glances, surprised and amused. Some of them clashed their shields, thinking that they would be led to a landfall and a spoiling of the manor house in the distance beyond the trees. Karli heard the sound.

  "'Bide ye! No man may set foot out of the ship until I give the bidding. We have made a peace with the manor folk."

  "Karli," growled one, "when will we have food to set between our teeth?"

  "Tonight, messmates," he laughed, "we will feast in Sir Thord's hall, or we will not eat at all. There is a warden sitting in yonder wood with fifty swords behind him. So if ye set foot ashore they will cut you down, and say afterward that you came raiding. But for my head they would get a price."

  It was late afternoon before groups of men appeared on the road to the landing that ran beside the wood. These brought neither cattle nor barrels with them. Instead they carried arms of sorts, and a few wore mail. A broad figure with a gray beard strode before them, bearing sword and shield.

  "This is not good, Karli," spoke up one of the crew, "for these landsmen bring iron to us instead of meat."

  "Keep to the ship," said the Red Elf, "and the iron will not harm ye. That should be Thord with his henchmen-not the warden's band."

  "What is in your mind to do?"

  "I will try my luck, for there is no other way."

  Karli went back over the plank with his shield and spear, and the small casket that held his bride-gift tied to his belt. But he carried also a pair of lengths of wood, seasoned ash, each as broad as his hand and each curved over gracefully at one end. When he had climbed out of the rocks he laid these skis down in the smooth snow and bound his feet in the leather thongs at the middle of each. He did this swiftly, for the Norsemen all used skis from childhood. On the other hand, the people of this coast did not know the use of them.

  Slowly Karli went forward, planting each ski with a short step, since he was climbing the slope toward the oncoming landsmen. "A greeting to you, Sir Thord," he said.

  "May the Devil burn you and all yours, Viking," responded the lord of the manor.

  Panting, Thord stood there with his hand on his sword, and the red faces of his men glared behind him.

  "Sir Thord," he said, "I will do you no ill, and I am after keeping the peace. But where are the cattle and wine you would bring?"

  "By God," cried the old man, "is it not enough that you have taken my daughter-that you ask for meat and wine also?"

  Karli smiled. "Astrid is not upon the ship, nor have I carried her any whither."

  "She is on the ship. This fisherman here saw you snatch her up i' the wood, and ran with the word to me. Another saw you bear her over the ship's rail. And now yield her up to me, you spawn of Satan's penthouse!"

  "Is this your peace?" asked Karli without anger. "Now, listen. Where is the lying knave who said he saw me carrying Astrid to the dragon craft?"

  "He is not here. He is-" Sir Thord swallowed hard-"one of the warden's liegemen."

  "Well, find him and fetch him. And since you must e'en go to the am bush in the wood, look well at the tracks there in the snow. For yonder are my tracks, coming and going. A stone's throw within the trees you will see where Astrid came to speak with me-she who hath more of honor than the lord her father and his messmate the Lord Warden. You will see where she went back to the manor."

  Without a word Sir Thord went off into the wood. He was gone a long time and he came back trailing Karli's forgotten mantle in the snow. He came alone and stood there, pulling at his beard.

  "No one," he said, "is in the wood any more. They have gone, every soul of them, upon the forest road."

  "The girl, Astrid?"

  "Aye, else she would be with me."

  Karli looked keenly at the dazed man and saw that he spoke the truth. Then Karli turned his mind back to what had happened in that wood. He thought of Astrid running back to her house, and coming upon the horsemen. She might have told the warden what had passed between her and the Red Elf, or she might not. But he had kept her there, and presently a man of his had been sent to say to Thord the lie that his daughter had been carried to the ship. So the warden had not meant Thord to see his daughter again.

  Even while he pondered, a woman came down from the manor, saying that some of the warden's men had hastened back to the house and loaded all Valgard's gear upon the packhorses, and had departed an hour since.

  Twilight fell upon them with a darkening fall of snow. The people crowded about, whispering and waiting to hear what the Viking would say. Thord had sent for his horse, which was led up, saddled.

  "How many more have ye?" Karli asked. "Swift-paced horses?"

  "No other than this," Thord admitted, ashamed. He held his life as little against his daughter, and he meant to ride after the warden.

  "Well," said Karli, "it seems that we twain must go upon this search alone. But do you ride fast, old man, for I have need of you."

  Thord, his foot in the stirrup, stared at the dim form of the Viking. "What! Your boat cannot follow the inland road, and this quarrel is not yours."

  "It is not to my mind," the Viking responded, "to leave my
bride in an another man's arms for long. Show me the road."

  Although Thord galloped headlong, following the tracks along the road, the Viking kept beside him. The horse plunged down slopes, slipping and pulling itself together. The Viking whirled from side to side to break the speed of the descent. Over fallen trees the horse leaped, and the man leaped beside him.

  Night had fallen, but the snow had ceased and the air grew clear. Thord could no longer make out the tracks of the riders. Karli, however, went on without faltering. The forest thinned out around them, and they saw ahead of them at one side two red eyes of light.

  Cautiously they went ahead. They saw that the lights were fires. Valgard and his men had turned off the road to halt for the night. They did not look for pursuit so far from the sea, and they had gone down a steep slope, across clear ground to a cluster of pine trees. So they were a hundred paces from the road-some of the men cutting up a dead tree, others taking the saddles from the horses. Valgard's servants were rigging up a shelter out of boughs and tent cloths, between the two great fires.

  Valgard was sitting on a log. He still had on his steel cap and mail and he held a wine cup on his knee, while he gave orders to his men. Within the shelter beside him the girl Astrid crouched upon a mantle. Her face was white but she did not weep.

  All this Thord and Karli saw clearly, in the red glow of the fires.

  "Men say," Thord whispered to the Viking, "that you have the gift of foresight. Can you see what will come out of this?"

  "Faith, no," Karli laughed, leaning on his spear.

  Anxiously Thord peered at him. After all, this seafarer was young and heedless. He had only human strength in him.

  "Hail them, Sir Thord," he said, "and summon this Valgard to give up Astrid, if he will not have manslaughter at this place."

  Throwing back his head, the old lord shouted: "Ho, Valgard! I am Thord and now I call upon you to release my daughter to come to me. 'Tis an ill deed you have done, to lay hand upon the maid of the house that sheltered you."

  In the moment of surprised silence Valgard stood up, his hand on his sword, peering up into the night. But he could not see the two of them. Yet in that moment-for he was a shrewd man-he had guessed that Thord, escaping from the Vikings, must have followed alone on the solitary charger of the manor.

  "Good or ill," he shouted back, 'Ais not for you to say, old man. You are the messmate of the Red Elf and his outlaws-aye, you have given them food and shelter, despite me-and now must I hold your maid a hostage."

  Some of the men-at-arms laughed, and Thord ground his teeth.

  "That is a black lie, Valgard. Will you give up the girl?"

  "She is here. Come you down, and take her."

  Suddenly Astrid's clear voice rang out: "Nay, Father-for they-"

  Turning swiftly, Valgard dealt her a heavy blow on the mouth, and she fell back. Thord saw then that her ankles were bound together, so that she could not move upon her feet. "May God requite you for that blow," he roared, and jerked at the rein of his horse.

  But Karli's hand held the rein and forced the beast back to the road. "Bide here, old man. Sure it is weary of life you are this day." Then his deep voice bailed the camp: "You need not shout so loud, Valgard, for the Red Elf hears. Now you must make ready and take your weapons and summon your men, for the Red Elf will be coming down with his arms."

  Valgard's manner changed on the instant. He called his men from the horses; they snatched up weapons, and at his bidding ranged themselves in a long half-circle before the fires-two or three paces between the men. A half-dozen archers advanced steadily beyond the half-circle toward the slope. Valgard fitted his shield on his arm, drew his sword, and stood beside the shelter.

  All this Karli watched attentively. Except for his eyes he did not move at all, until he began to clear the snow from his skis by sliding them back and forth.

  Then he leaned forward a little, half crouched. He slid one foot forward and was over the edge of the slope. In a second he was speeding down the wide track made by the horses-faster and faster. He reached the archers, who had barely glimpsed him. One threw a shield in front of him with a warning shout, and he leaped over it.

  Out of the night he shot into the half-circle of the men-at-arms. Erect, he sped between two of them. An ax swept at him wildly and he crouched on his skis to let it clear his head.

  Faster than a bird on the wing, with the great spear gripped before him, he bore down on Valgard.

  No time for Valgard to leap aside. Throwing his shield before him, the warden struck blindly at the spear with his sword. No swordsmanship could turn that spear with such weight behind it. The blade clattered off the wood-the spear's point crashed through the shield, smashed through the body armor, and came out red between Valgard's shoulder blades.

  But Valgard's body had been cast back through the tent shelter, and Karli was whirling on the snow beside it.

  The Viking gripped the ground, drew his skis under him, and reached out his free arm. He caught Astrid by the waist, threw her over his shoulder. With an effort he stood erect, shouting at the dazed watchers.

  "The Red Elf has taken his bride away. 'Tis ill to follow! " And he slid one foot before him, gliding out of the light among the trees, in a wide circle that would take him back to the road through the darkness.

  Few realized what had happened until he was passing from sight. Javelins were flung, and some of the warden's henchmen started to run after, through the deep snow. But he was lost to sight, and they stopped at the edge of the firelight. Some cried out to saddle the horses, but no one did so.

  They were looking at the dead body. Of what avail to follow a man who could fly through the night like that, and strike such a blow? They crossed themselves and shook their heads. And afterward they told in the towns a tale of how they had seen the Red Elf swoop down out of the night sky, riding on his hoofs, with the wings of a fiend beating behind him and fire coming out of his head.

  In his arms Karli carried the girl home. And at dawn Karli and his Vikings were still breaking their long fast, while the lights glowed in the hall and a great fire roared from the hearth. The maids of the place hastened from table to table carrying pitchers of ale, and the men made a song when they heard how Karli came down with his spear on the warden's men. Old Thord thumped the board, for good red wine had been carried in without stint and his mind had grown a little mixed. He was proud to have an earl's son sitting in honor beside him on the high seat, and he thought that the days of the manor would be lively now.

  As for Astrid, she had put on her best red garment-although she knew, now that she had seen the silks and brocades in one of Karli's open chests, that her dress was shabby indeed. The other maids looked at her in a new way, and she held her head high. At the same time she was half frightened. For Karli said no more of his suit before these people-in fact he said nothing at all. With flushed cheeks he looked down at his hands. The Red Elf had grown fearful. And Astrid ever listened for his voice.

  Until suddenly he rose from his place and caught her hand. He led her apart from the others, and took a casket from his belt. From it he drew ropes of pearls, and hung them, with quivering fingers, about her throat in a clumsy tangle. Then he thrust great silver arm-bands set with shining emeralds upon her wrists, so that he hurt her. Still he had naught to say, but he put his arm about her and kissed her.

  At the tables the Vikings laughed deep.

  "Astrid," he whispered, "I am crestfallen and fearful, for I know not how to set about wooing you."

  She straightened the pearls upon her throat, and looked up at him gently.

  "I know little of such things," she said, "but it seems to me that you manage well enough as it is."

  Chapter I

  The Man-at-Arms

  Upon a fair day in May, in token of the honor due them for long and valorous service in Flanders, a small group of men were chosen to mount guard at the pavilion of His Majesty King Edward the Sixth of England. They were armigers
or esquires-at-arms, and the youngest of their company was placed at the entrance of the pavilion nearest the person of the king.

  The name of this armiger was Ralph Thorne. He was selected for this post because, of these survivors of a gallant company, he had done the most in battle.

  "Because, sire," explained the politic Dudley, Duke of Stratford, "he has never failed in the execution of a command. Because, being distant from the court and the eye of his sovereign, he has yet performed deeds of hardihood, suffering thereby sore scathe and wounds."

  This tribute, lightly rendered by my lord duke, was remembered by him in latter years. Verily he had good reason to regret his words and his selection of a sentinel.

  For there befell in that hour and in that day of the year 1553 a strange event. And here is the tale of it, justly set down, giving every man his due, and no man more; for it is not the task of the chronicler to praise and dispraise, but to make manifest the truth.

  Master Thorne walked his post, after receiving signs and orders from my lord, the aforesaid Duke of Stratford. The armiger was not by much the elder of the boy king who lay within the pavilion on a couch covered with a deerskin. He wore the armor of the guards-cuirass and morion-and carried a harquebus on one shoulder.

  A slow match in his other hand was kept alight by swinging gently back and forth. Walking slowly from one pole of the entrance to the other, he did not look within. And the grievously sick Edward took no more notice of the sentinel than of the ancient hag who crouched at the head of his divan, shredding herbs in her bony fingers.

  Thorne's first hour of duty had not passed before a cannon roared from the river below the marquee. He had seen the flash before he heard it, and glanced keenly at four ships that were abreast the royal standard.

  The court had removed that day from London town to the meadows of Greenwich on the lower Thames. Edward's pavilion was pitched nearest the shore. Across the stream was anchored a galleon that flew from its poop an ensign bearing the triangular cross of Spain.