CHAPTER V.
THE WAR SUMMONS.
"There!" thought Ned, as he reentered the great central hall of Vebba'shouse. "One of those other buildings that are stuck on to this is theirkitchen."
He saw several of the women coming in with dishes through an opendoorway near him, and he stepped forward for a look at the place fromwhich they came. He saw no cooking stove or range, but there was acharcoal fire in the middle of the floor. Around this were the cookswith kettles, gridirons, and saucepans of entirely familiar shapes.There was no smoke, and instead of it there was an unpleasant smell ofburning charcoal. He noticed particularly that some of the cookingutensils had a brassy look, and he soon afterward discovered that hisnew friends knew how to do a great many things with copper and bronzeas well as with iron and steel.
Almost everybody was now hastening toward the dinner-table on the dais.If, under ordinary circumstances, noon might be the dinner-hour, uponthis occasion there was a variation. Not only the fishermen of thefamily, but several other persons, had but just arrived, and this latemeal was to be something of an affair.
Sitting down at the table appeared to be a matter of particularceremony, and it quickly aided Ned in understanding how minute andsharp were the distinctions of social position and rank among theNorsemen. They were a free people, but for all that any man's ancestry,his wealth, and his achievements in war had much to do with the esteemin which he was held and the place he might sit in. Vebba himself wasevidently of high degree, and he took his seat in the high-backedmiddle chair behind the table with great dignity. At his right wasMadame Vebba, as Ned called her, or Wiltna, and at his left was ashort, black-haired woman who wore a gold bracelet and a high cap. Shemight be a guest of rank. After these, on either hand, were seated menand women with evident precision according to some rule. Lars and Nedand other youths, not yet considered especially distinguished, were atthe left end of the table, and a number of young women and girls wereat the right end. There were many servants to fetch and carry dishes.
"The plates are wooden!" said Ned. "They won't break if you drop'em. Some of the cups and pitchers are of wood. Made with hoops likelittle pails. They make all sorts of pails. Horn cups, crockery, greenglass,--why don't they make window glass, too?"
He had taken his seat by Lars, and the first entirely thoughtless thingthat he did was to speak to one of the men waiters, saying:
"Knife and fork, please."
"Oh!" exclaimed Lars. "I see! He hath no cutter. Bring him a goodblade."
Ned's cheeks were blazing. He had almost forgotten that he was not athome. There was not one solitary fork in the hall of Vebba the chief.
"No!" he said aloud. "Nor a napkin, nor a table-cloth, nor a potato!"
"I hear thee!" came suddenly in the deep tones of Vebba. "Thou hastalso been taught other tongues. It is well. Thy father is wise withthee. When the priest cometh he shall talk with thee in Latin, for weunderstand him not very well."
"That's it!" thought Ned. "I spoke in English. What'll I do with Latin?"
Then he replied to Vebba:
"I will be glad to see the priest."
"We like him well," said Wiltna. "He is from Ireland, where there aremany such as he, and he cometh here to teach against the old gods ofthe North. Most of the people swear by Wodin and Thor to this day. Theychange not easily."
Ned did not say anything aloud about their being heathen, but heblurted out in Norwegian:
"It is just so among us; we have ever so many preachers, and most ofthe people do not go by what they say any too well."
Vebba nodded, as if that were understood to be a matter of courseeverywhere, and the dinner went on.
"How they do drink beer!" thought Ned. "Nothing else. Every fellow useshis own sheath-knife and his fingers. Salt, but no pepper. Fair butter.Pretty good bread. This is goat mutton, is it? I like it pretty well. Iguess there won't be any pie. Fingers were made before forks, as UncleJack says."
Nevertheless, the table manners were very good, and the food wasabundant, fish, flesh, and fowl. The fish, especially, were all thatcould be asked for, and the poultry was wild game of several kinds.
Now and then a remark from Vebba or Wiltna came to Ned, politely, buthe was left to Lars and the other youngsters most of the time. It wasmanifestly against the rules of good Norse society to ask too manyquestions of a guest. Strangers were welcome to come and go, and wouldsimply be treated according to their degree while there. In fact, muchof the respect with which Ned was now regarded by his new friendsbelonged to the fact that he had learned so much from his Americanfencing-master,--and he, too, had been French.
The dinner ended for the aristocratic part of the household, all oflower degree getting their provision afterward, or in other houses orouter rooms.
It could be seen that this day was of some unusual interest. Other menwere arriving, one by one, and they came in armour, bringing weaponswith them. While they were being welcomed by their hosts, Ned had agood opportunity for his proposed examination of the ornaments of thewalls of the hall.
Great antlers, fastened here and there, served as hooks on which tohang things, and all were heavily loaded. There were helmets of manypatterns; shields of all sorts; coats of mail; pieces of armour; coatsof thick leather, with or without plates of metal before and behind;short-handled and long-handled battle-axes, with single-edged anddouble-edged blade-heads of curious shapes; spears, heavy and light,and swords, some of which seemed as if they were made for giants, forthey were almost as long as a man. In one corner lay several bundlesor sheaves of arrows, and there were plenty of bows.
"I don't believe I could bend some of those bows," thought Ned. "I'drather have a revolver, anyhow, or a repeating rifle that would carry amile. It would send a bullet through one of those coats of mail, or ashield, either."
He was called away from his tour of observation by a sudden soundof music. He whirled upon his feet to see, and there in front ofthe table, on the dais, sat four old men with harps, which theywere tuning, getting ready to play. At the same time the hall wasgrowing lighter. It had been somewhat dusky, but now a strong glarewas reddening over the walls and the black rafters of the roof. Theservants had brought in upright, three-legged cressets of iron-work.That is, at the top of the upright stem of each of these tripodcressets was an iron basket, into which fragments and knots of pineand fir were fed, as they burned. These were the chandeliers of thedwelling of Vebba, and they answered remarkably well.
"No candles to snuff," thought Ned, "but I'd rather have electriclight, or coal gas, or kerosene. Hullo! They're going to work at theforge. I wonder if every man around here has a blacksmith shop in hisown house."
Probably not, considering how very costly a thing an anvil and a lot ofhammers and chisels and files might be. Only a rich chief could affordsuch an affair as was that forge in the house of Vebba. There was acharcoal fire upon its masonry now, however, and a brawny, grimy manin a leather coat was holding a piece of steel in it with tongs, whileanother man worked the bellows.
Then the four harpers struck up, and at once the smith began to sing.Out came his white-hot piece of steel to the anvil, up went a hammer inhis strong right hand, and the thudding blows that he struck kept timewith the music and with the cadences of his anvil-song:
"I forge a sword; I hammer steel; It shall cleave shields, Going through mail. By it shall men fall. Hammer! Hammer! Hammer! So do I shape the steel for the battle."
The smith had a rich, deep, musical voice, and the hall was filled witha great roar of song when all the other voices in it joined in thehammer chorus at the end of each stanza. Somewhat slowly the meaningof it all began to dawn upon the mind of Ned, the son of Webb. Thiswas not mere forge-work; not the manufacture of one blade more at thistime; it was part of the entertainment of the evening, and there was anincreasing excitement among the Vikings as the singing and harping andhammering went on.
"It is grand!" thought Ned. "Somet
hing else is coming, I know thereis. Hullo! What's that?"
Instantly all the great chorus died away, and every face was turnedtoward the open outer door of the hall. Through this doorway had comea fiercely ringing blast of a powerfully blown war-horn, and now,striding forward three paces into the hall, was a broad-shouldered,splendidly armoured warrior, carrying shield and ax.
"Ho, Vebba, son of Bjorn!" he shouted. "Hearken thou and thine to thesummons of Harold Hardrada the King! All is ready for Britain, savethis last of thy keels. Let it follow thee. Be thou at the seasidethe third day hence, and bring with thee every sword and spear of thyhouse."
"Hail!" shouted back Vebba, joyfully. "Hail to thee and to thy messagefrom Harold Hardrada! Bide thou with me this night, O messenger of theking."
"Not I, Vebba the chief," loudly responded the warrior at the door."One horn of ale I will drink, for thy welcome. Then go I onward,for the summons is hasty, and the steeds of the sea are alreadyharnessed. I am bidden to say to thee and to all, that the hosts ofthe Northland and the lithsmen of Tostig Godwinson the Earl must be inEngland to claim the land for their own before the muster of Williamof Normandy can cross the sea to land in south Britain. It is to beours, and not theirs, to cut down the Saxons of Harold the King. Hailto Harold Hardrada! Hail to the winning of England by the heroes of theNorthland! My message is done."
A huge silver-mounted horn cup, foaming with ale, was brought to him.He drank it standing, and it appeared to be out of order to ask himfurther questions. At the same time, however, all the excited warriorspresent were loudly repeating to each other the substance of this warnews.
Away strode the messenger, whose name escaped the ears of Ned, the sonof Webb, and as he departed the harpers once more struck up a roaringbattle-song. The women were as excited as the men, and many of them hadexcellent voices.
"This is splendid!" exclaimed Ned, and at that moment a heavy hand waslaid upon his arm.
"Come thou with me," said one of the older warriors. "It is by theorder of Vebba, the chief. I will show thee thy arms and armour, andthen thou wilt go to thy rest. We are to march in the morning."
"Horses for thee and me," interrupted Lars, at the side of the oldViking. "It is but six leagues to ride. Then we take ship. There willbe many carts, also."
"All right!" exclaimed Ned, in English, and then he corrected himselfand replied in Norwegian, as he followed them to the house of arms.
Both of them carried pine-knot torches, and when Ned turned at thedoorway to look back upon the Vikings, the women, and the harpers, hethought he had never seen anything else half so wonderful. The men hadcaught weapons and shields from the antlers on the walls, and these, aswell as the anvil and hammer, were now clanging time to the music andits choruses.
It was only a few steps farther, and then Ned, the son of Webb, wasfeverishly examining his new metallic clothing. The helmet handed himwas of bronze. It was plainly made, without any crest, like one whichLars showed him as his own, and it had a nose-piece in front as well asa back neck-piece behind. He put it on, and it did not hurt, for it waslined with padded deer-skin. Next Lars held up before him, to measurehis size, a beautiful coat of linked-steel mail, not too heavy, andpolished till it looked like silver.
"Thou and I must wear our mail at once," he said, "to get used to it.Even old fighters need to harden a little, after a long peace. Put iton, but first put on the leather shirt, for thy blue cloth is too thin."
"It would wear to holes in no time," said Ned, and he pulled on overhis outing shirt another of soft goat-leather.
It was a genuine pleasure, then, to find that his splendid mail hauberkwas a capital fit, and did not pinch him at any part. The belt by whichhis sword-sheath was to be suspended had also a strap to go over hisright shoulder, the better to sustain the weight. It had a very goodbuckle, too, and he wondered why they did not use better buckles ontheir harness.
He drew his sword from the sheath to look at it, and was delighted. Itwas a slightly curved short sabre, sharp on one edge and at the point,with a steel cross-hilt that had no guard.
"Thou knowest how to use a sword," said the old Viking, pleasantly."Thou wilt be a jarl, some day. These are thy spears and thy shieldand thine ax. Fight thou well before the eyes of Harold Hardrada andthe sea kings, for thou and Lars are but young to face Saxons."
The two spears, longer and shorter, were of the best. The ax wasshort-handled, but was heavy enough to need both of Ned's hands toswing it well. The shield was round, steel-rimmed, of thick, hard-facedhide, having thongs within for a left arm to pass through. The otherarmour consisted of light steel leg and arm pieces, and shoulder-barsthat would stop a pretty strong sword-cut.
"Now we are ready," said Lars. "Thou and I have nothing to do with bowsand arrows. Neither thy arm nor mine can bend a battle-bow. Not oneman in ten can bend the bow of Vebba, the son of Bjorn, and the bow ofHardrada the Sea King is as a bow of steel. It sendeth an arrow throughthe side of a ship."
"I guess not," thought Ned. "Not, anyhow, if she were an Americanironclad. What is all this armour compared to our two-foot steelplates? I'm glad I'm to have a horse, though. I don't believe Nannywould let me mount her if I came up to her in this rig."
He was to take it all off now, however, and carry it with him to theroom in which he was to sleep. This was in a small house that openedat one corner into the main dwelling or hall. In it, around the sides,were four broad benches, upon each of which were wolf-skins and a strawpillow. Two of these bench-bunks were already occupied by sleepers, anddown went Lars upon another, after putting out his torch.
"That's it, is it?" said Ned, to himself. "Well, it's bed enough for asoldier, I suppose. I'll do just as he did."
His mail and arms were laid upon the floor, and his helmet was placedupon them. Tired, exceedingly tired, he stretched himself upon hiswolf-skin, and the old Viking walked out, carrying his torch with him.
Ned, the son of Webb: What he did. Page 5