Kaiten Nukariya - "The Religion of the Samurai"

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The Thrall of Leif the Lucky

O >> Ottilie A. Liljencrantz >> The Thrall of Leif the Lucky




A sudden flicker there certainly was,--if it was not a ghost-fire. The
last cloud scurried from before the face of the long-suffering moon;
before the wind could bring up another fleecy flock, the pale light
crept down into the hollow and revealed the dark outline of a cabin
clinging among the rocks.

Alwin slipped out of his skees and made sure of his knife. "That, then,
is her house. We will leave the skees here."

"Though you never were known to heed advice, I will offer you another
piece," Sigurd answered. "We must go softly; and if we find the door
unlocked, enter quickly and without knocking. Otherwise it is possible
that we will stay outside and talk to the stones."

It was a tedious descent, yet somehow the time seemed plenty short
enough before they stood at the threshold. The stillness at the bottom
of the hollow was death-like; only the flickering light on the window
spoke of life. Silently the door yielded to Alwin's touch.

Darkness and a dying fire were all that met their eyes. They thought the
room empty, and took a step forward. Instantly the space was alive with
the green eyes of countless cats. The air was split with yowlings and
spittings and hissing. Soft furry bodies bounced against them and bit
and clawed around their legs. From the farthest corner came the lisping
voice of a toothless old woman.

"Who dares interrupt my sleep when the visions of things I wish to know
are passing before me? Better would it be for him to put his hand into
the mouth of the Fenriswolf."

Alwin said slowly, "It is the English thrall."

After a pause, the voice answered crossly, "I know no English thrall."

"How comes it, then, that more than a year ago you told something
concerning him which made Egil Olafsson his mortal foe?"

Out of the darkness came a sudden cackling laugh. "That is true. I told
the Black One that the maiden he loved would love an English thrall
instead. And he wished to stick his sword through me!"

"Is that what you told him?" cried Alwin, in amazement.

Sigurd echoed the cry. Yet as their minds ran back over Egil's strange
actions, they could not doubt that this was the key that unlocked their
mystery.

From an invisible corner came a stir, a creak, and then the sound of
feet lighting softly on the floor. A tiny figure appeared on the edge of
the shadows beyond the dying fire. The light fell upon furry gray feet;
and Alwin's first thought was that a monstrous cat had dropped down.
Then the flames leaped higher, and showed a furry cloak and a furry
hood, and from its fuzzy depths protruding, a sharp yellow beak for a
nose, and a hairy yellow peak for a chin. Of eyes, one saw nothing at
all.

Out of the fuzzy depths came a lisping voice. "When a thrall of Leif
Ericsson, who is also a Christian, thinks it worth while to risk his
life and his soul to consult me, I forgive it that I am wakened at
midnight. It is a compliment to my powers that I do not take ill. Say
what you wish to learn from me."

Alwin felt Sigurd touch him reproachfully, and shame burned in his
cheeks; but he had gone too far to retreat. He said bluntly: "I wish to
know whether Helga, Gilli's daughter, is to be given to Egil. Each time
he speaks across the floor to her, I am as though I were pricked with
sharp knives. I have endured it through three feasts; but I look upon
her with such eyes of love, that I can bear it no longer."

"I will dull those knives, even as Odin blunts the weapons of his
enemies. Helga will not be given to Egil, because he is too haughty to
ask for her since he knows that she loves you instead of him."

It had seemed to Alwin that if he could only know this, he would be
satisfied; yet now his questions piled upon each other.

"Then do you promise that she will be given to me? How am I to save her?
How am I to get my freedom? How long am I to wait?"

The Sibyl sank her head upon her breast so that her nose and chin quite
disappeared, and she stood before them like some furry headless beast.
There was a long pause. Alwin nervously followed the pairs of eyes,
noiselessly appearing and disappearing, from floor to ceiling, in every
part of the room. Sigurd set his back against the door and carried on a
silent struggle with the heavy lumps, hanging by teeth and claws upon
his cloak.

At last Skroppa raised her head and answered haltingly: "You ask too
much, according to the time and the place. To know all that clearly, I
should sit on a witches' platform and eat witches' broth, and have women
stand about me and sing weird songs. Without music, spirits do not like
to help. I can only see bits, vaguely as through a fog... I see your
body lying on the ground I see a ship where never ship was seen before I
see--I see Leif Ericsson standing upon earth where never man stood
before. It seems to me that I read great luck in his face... And I see
you standing beside him, though you do not look as you look now, for
your hair is long and black. The light is so bright that I cannot...
Yes, one thing more is open to my sight. I see that it is in this new
land that it will be settled whether your luck is to be good or bad."

She stopped. They waited for her to go on; but soon it became evident
that the foretelling was finished. With all his prudence, Sigurd began
to laugh; and Alwin burst out in a passion of impatience: "For which,
you gabbler? For which? I can make nothing of such jargon. Tell me in
plain words whether it will be for good or ill."

Skroppa answered just one word: "Jargon!"

Alwin stormed on unheeding, but Sigurd's laughter stopped: something in
the tone of that one word chilled his blood and braced his muscles like
a frost. He strained his eyes to pierce the shadow and make out what she
was doing; and it seemed to him that he could no longer see her. She had
disappeared,--where? In a sudden panic he groped behind him for the
door; found it and flung it open. It was well that the moon was shining
at that moment.

"Alwin!" he shouted. The yellow face was close to the thrall's
unconscious shoulder; one evil claw-like hand was almost at his cheek.
What she would have done, she alone knew.

While his cry was still in the air, Sigurd pulled his companion away and
through the door. Up the steep they went like cats. Near the top, Alwin
tripped, and his knife slipped from his belt and fell against a boulder.
It lay there shining, but neither of them noticed it. Into their skees,
and over the crusted plains they went,--reindeer could not have caught
them.




CHAPTER XIX

TALES OF THE UNKNOWN WEST


Fire is needful
To him who is come in,
And whose knees are frozen;
Food and raiment
A man requires
Who o'er the fell has travelled.
Ha'vama'l


"I tell you I must go over the track once more. It may have slipped out of my
girdle at some of the places where I tripped."

Alwin's words rose in frosty cloud; for he was Leif's unheated
sleeping-room, drawing on an extra pair of thick woollen stockings in
preparation for his customary outing.

"It is foolishness. Four times already have you been over the ground
without finding it. A long brass-halted knife could not have been
overlooked if it had been there. I tell you that you lost it among the
rocks of the hollow, and that you would be wise to give it up."

Sigurd's answer came in muffled though emphatic tones, for he was
huddled almost out of sight among the furs on the chest, as he waited
for his companion to complete his dressing. Now that genuine winter
weather was upon them, the loft was necessarily abandoned as a sleeping
apartment; but it still served as a dressing-room for such slight and
speedy alterations as were attempted.

As he pulled on the big heelless skeeing-shoes, Alwin sighed anxiously.
"I must find it. Any day Leif may miss it and ask."

"He is not likely to, since he has already gone a week without noticing
its absence. And if he should, you have only to say that you borrowed it
to protect yourself from wolves. That will not be much of a lie, Skroppa
being nearer wolf than human. He will feel that he was wrong to have
denied you a weapon, and he will only scold a little."

"It is true that he is in a good temper again," Alwin admitted.
"Yesterday I heard Tyrker tell Valbrand that many more chiefs had asked
concerning Christianity; and last night, after Eric had gone to sleep in
his seat, I heard Leif say to Thorhild that if now he could only do some
great deed to prove the power of his God, it was his opinion that half
of Greenland would be ready to believe."

Sigurd crept out of the bearskins with a shiver. "I say nothing against
that. But let us end this talk. My blood-drops are so frozen they rattle
in my body."

He thumped down the steps as though rigid with cold, and jumped and
danced and beat his breast before he could bring himself to stand still
long enough to fasten on his skees.

"Where shall we go, then?" Alwin asked, as they glided out of the gate
in the dim light of an Arctic winter day. "It may be that to go over
that road again might become a misfortune. Once I saw Kark looking after
us with a grin which I would have knocked off his face if I had not been
in a hurry."

Sigurd instantly faced toward the snow-crusted hills that lay between
them and Eric's Fiord. "Then to-day it will be useful to go in another
direction, so that any suspicions he has may go to sleep again. If
Thorhall had been at home, he would have overtaken you before this. His
green eyes are well fitted for spying."

Perhaps it was this reference to green eyes that recalled to Alwin the
scene of the foretelling. Perhaps it had never gone very far out of his
mind.

After they had swung along a while in silent enjoyment of the swift
motion and the answering tingle in their blood, he said abruptly: "It
may be that there was some truth at her tongue-roots, after all."

Sigurd made a sly move with his staff, so that the other suddenly
tripped and fell headlong; whereupon he said gravely: "Lo, I believe so
too, for behold, already it has come true that 'I see your body lying on
the ground.'"

Alwin consented to laugh, as he picked himself up and untangled his
runners; but he was too much in earnest to be turned aside.

"I do not mean in regard to that," he said, when they were once more in
motion. "I mean what she told concerning some new untrodden land."

Sigurd became instantly attentive, as though the reference had been much
in his own mind also.

"It has occurred to me that perhaps she was speaking of that western
land you told me of. It might he that this would be a way out of my
difficulties. If I could escape to that land with Helga, so would I at
once save her and gain my freedom."

Sigurd's eyes brightened, then gloomed again. "Yes,--but that 'if' is
like a mile-wide rift in the ice. You can never get over it."

"It might be that I could get around it. I tell you I shall go out of my
wits if I cannot see some trail to follow, no matter how faint it is.
Tell me what else you know of this land."

They were starting down a slope at the speed of the wind, but Sigurd
suddenly leaped into the air with a cheer; and cheered again as he
landed, right-side up and unstaggered, at the bottom of the hill.

"By Michael, I will do better than that! I will take you to talk with
one of Biorn's own men. One is visiting Aran Bow-Bender now, across the
fiord. I heard Brand Knutsson say so last week."

"By my troth, Sigurd," Alwin cried eagerly, "when things come to one's
hand like that, I believe it is a sign that he should try his luck with
them! Would we have time to go there to-day?"

"Certainly; do you not see that the light is only just fading from the
mountain tops? so it can be but a little past noon. The only difficulty
is that the ice may not be in a condition for us to cross the fiord. A
warm land-wind has been blowing for three days; and even in the North,
where the seal-hunters go, the ice often breaks up under them. But now
allow me to get my bearings. That is the smoke from Brattahlid, behind
us; and yonder I see the roofs of Eric's ship-sheds. Here,--we will go
in this direction until we come to a high point of the bank."

Across the white plain that stretched in that direction, they skimmed
accordingly. Once they came upon a herd of Eric's reindeer, rooting
under the snow for moss; but aside from that, they saw no living thing.
Low-hanging gray clouds seemed to have shut out the world. Now and then,
from far out in the open water came the grinding and crunching of huge
ice-cakes, see-sawing past each other. Once there sounded the
reverberating thunder of two icebergs in a duel.

"If there were any bears on that ice, they have found by this time that
there can be even worse things than men with spears," Sigurd observed,
as he listened.

It is doubtful whether Alwin had heard the noise at all. He answered,
absently: "Yes,--and if we do not wish to come to the subject at once,
we can say that we are cold and dropped in to warm ourselves."

"To say that we are cold will always be truthfully spoken," Sigurd
assented, his teeth chattering like beads. "I do not believe that
Stark-Otter was much chillier when he pulled off his clothes and sat in
a snow-bank."

It turned out to be even more truthful than they imagined. They had
little more than left the shore and ventured out upon the ice, when the
gentle east wind developed into a gale, that presently wrapped them in
the blinding folds of a snow-storm. The ice became invisible a step
ahead of their feet. They had retained their staffs when they left their
skees upon the bank; but even feeling their way step by step was by no
means secure. It was not long before Alwin went through, up to his neck;
and if he had been uncomfortable before, he was in wretched plight now,
drenched to the skin with ice-water.

"If you also get in this condition, we shall both perish," he chattered,
when he had managed to clamber out again by the fortunate accident of
his staff's falling crosswise over the hole. "I will continue to go
first; and do you hoard your strength to save us both when I get too
stiff to move." It proved a wise precaution; for in a few minutes he
broke through again, and it took all his companion's exertions to pull
him out. Before they reached the opposite shore, he had been in four
times, and was so benumbed with cold that Sigurd was obliged to drag him
up the bank and into the hut of Aran Bow-Bender.

One low room was all there was of it, and that was smoky and dirty, the
air thick with the smells of stale cooking and musty fur garments. Dogs
were lying about, and there was a goat-pen in the corner; but a fire
roared in the centre, a ring of steaming hot drinks stood around it, and
behind them sat a circle of jovial-hearted sportsmen, who seemed to ask
no greater pleasure than to pull off a stranger's drenched garments, rub
him to a tingle, and pour him full of hot spicy liquids.

To return that night was out of the question. Alwin was too exhausted
even to think of it,--beyond a sleepy wonder as to whether a scolding or
a flogging would be the penalty of his involuntary truancy. He even
forgot the existence of the man he had come to see, though the round,
red-faced sailor dozed in a corner directly opposite him.

Sigurd, however, was less muddled; and he had, besides, a strong
objection to returning the next morning, to be laughed at for his
weather-foolishness.

"If we do not want to be made fun of, it would be advisable for us to
take someone back with us to distract people's attention," he reasoned,
and laid plans accordingly. The next day, as they began buckling up
their various outer garments preparatory to departure, he suddenly
struck into the conversation with a reference to the festivities at
Brattahlid.

In a moment the sailor-man's eyes opened, like two round windows, above
his fat cheeks.

The Silver-Tongue spoke on concerning the products of the Brattahlid
kitchen, the fat beeves that were slaughtered each week, the gammons and
flitches that were taken from the larder, and the barrels of ale that
were tapped.

As he settled his boots with a final stamp, and stretched out his hand
toward the door, Grettir the sailor arose in his corner.

"Hold on, Jarl's son," he said thickly. "If it is not against your wish,
I will go with you." He made a propitiatory gesture to the group around
the fire. "You will not take it ill, shipmates, if I leave you now, with
many thanks for a good entertainment. The truth is that it has always
been in my mind to visit this renowned Eric, if ever I should be in this
part of Greenland; and now that some one is going that way to guide me,
I think it would be unadvisable to lose the chance."

"The matter shall be as you have fixed it, Grettir," Sigurd said
politely, "if you are able to run on skees with us."

Grettir laughed in a jovial roar, as he helped himself to a pair of
runners that rested on antlers against the wall. "You have a sly wit,
Sigurd Jarlsson. You think, because I am round, I am wont to roll like a
barrel. I will show you."

And it proved that, for all his bulk, he was as light on his feet as
either of them. In those days, when every landlubber could handle a boat
like a seaman, every sailor knew at least something about farming, and
could ride a horse like a jockey. All the way back, he kept them going
at a pace that took their breath.

In the excitement of welcoming so renowned a character to Brattahlid,
reprimands and curiosity were alike forgotten. By the time they had him
anchored behind an ale-horn on the bench in the hail, he held the
household's undivided attention. Good-natured with feasting, and roused
by the babel around him, he began yarn-spinning at the first hint.

"The western shore? No man living can tell you more of the wonders of
that than I,--not Biorn Herjulfsson himself!" he declared. And forthwith
he related the whole adventure, from Biorn's rash setting out into
unknown seas, to his final arrival on the Greenland coast.

To hear of these strange half-mythical shores from one who had seen them
with his own eyes, was more than interesting. The jarls' sons listened
breathlessly while he reeled out his tale between swallows.

"And the fair winds ceased, and northern winds with fog blew
continually, so that for many days we did not know even in what
direction we were sailing. Then the sun came into sight, and we could
distinguish the quarters of heaven. We hoisted sail, and sailed all day
before we saw land, but when we came to it we knew no more what it was
than this horn here. Biorn said he did not think it was Greenland, but
he wished to go near it. It had no mountains but low hills, and was
forest-clad. We kept the land on our left and sailed for two days before
we came to other land. This time it was flat and covered with woods.
Biorn said that he did not think this was Greenland, for very large
glaciers were said to be there. We wished to go ashore, as we lacked
both wood and water, and the fair wind had fallen. There were some cross
words when Biorn would not, but gave orders to turn the prow seaward.
This time we sailed three days with a southwest wind, and more land came
in view, which rose high with mountains and a glacier. Biorn said this
had an inhospitable look, and he would not allow that we should land
here either. But we sailed along the shore, and saw that it was an
island. After this we had no more chances, for the fourth land we saw
was Greenland."

A buzz of comment rose from all sides. "Is that all that you made of
such a chance as that?"--"Certainly the gods waste their favors on such
as Biorn Herjulfsson."--"Is he a coward, or what does he lack?" "He is
as dull as a wooden sword."

Now whether or no all this coincided with the private opinion of Grettir
the Fat, has nothing to do with the matter. Biorn Herjulfsson had been
his chief. The sailor rose suddenly to his feet, with his hand on his
knife and an angry look on his red face.

"Biorn Herjulfsson is no coward!" he shouted fiercely. "I will avenge it
in blood on the head of him who says so."

Eric was not there to keep order; a dozen mouths opened to take up the
challenge. But before any sound could come out of them, Leif had risen
to his feet. "Are you such mannerless churls that I must remind you of
what is due to a guest?" he said, sternly. "Learn to be quicker with
your hospitality, and slower with your judgment of every act you cannot
under-stand. Grettir, I invite you to sit here by me and tell me more
concerning your chief's voyage."

When Grettir had gone proudly up to take his seat of honor, and the
others had returned to their back-gammon and ale, Sigurd looked at Alwin
with a comical grimace.

"Now I wonder if my cleverness in bringing this fellow here has happened
to overshoot the mark! Leif is eager to get renown; suppose he takes it
into his head to make this voyage himself?"

Alwin sank his voice to a whisper: "The idea came to me as soon as he
called Grettir to him. But it was not your doing. Now the saying is
proved true that 'things that are fated take place.' Do you remember the
prophecy,--that when I stand on that ground I shall stand there by the
side of Leif Ericsson?"




CHAPTER XX

ALWIN'S BANE

Much goes worse than is expected.
Ha'vama'l


The light of the short day had faded, but the wind had not gone down
with the sun. Powdery snow choked the air in a blinding storm. One could
not distinguish a house, though it were within a foot of his eyes.

"If I do not come to the gate before long," Alwin observed to the shaggy
little Norwegian pony along whose neck he was bending, "I shall believe
that the fences have been snowed under."

He had been sent out to find another of Biorn's sailors who chanced to
be visiting in the neighborhood, to invite him to come to Brattahlid and
tell what else he might know concerning his chiefs voyage,--a subject in
which Leif had become strangely interested. Alwin had accomplished his
errand, and was returning half-frozen and with a ravenous appetite that
made him doubly impatient over their slow progress.

"If we do not get there before long," he repeated to the pony, with a
dig into his flanks, "I shall get afraid that the drifts have covered
the houses also, and that we are already riding over the roofs without
knowing it."

But as he said it, a tall gate-post rose on either side of him; and the
pony turned to the left and began groping his way across the courtyard
to his stable.

The windows of the great hall glowed with light, and warmth and jovial
voices and fragrant smells burst out upon the storm with every swing of
the broad door. As soon as he had stabled his horse, Alwin hurried
toward it eagerly, and, stamping and shaking off the snow, pushed his
way in through the crowd of house-thralls, who were running to and from
the pantry with bowls and trenchers and loads of food. He hoped that
Leif was there, so that he should not have to go back across the snowy
courtyard to the sleeping-loft to make his report. Stopping just inside
the threshold, he looked about for him, blinking in the strong light and
shaking back the wet fur of his collar.

It seemed as though every member of the house-hold except Leif were
lounging along the benches, waiting for the evening meal. Eric leaned
against one arm of his high-seat, talking jovially with Thorhall the
steward, who had returned that morning from seal-hunting. Thorhild bent
over the other arm, and gesticulated vigorously with her keys, as she
gave her housekeeper some last directions regarding the food. Further
along, Sigurd and Helga sat at draughts. Near at hand, a big fur ball,
which was the outward and visible sign of Tyrker, was rolled up close to
a chess-board. Only Leif's cushioned seat was empty.

With petulant force, Alwin jammed his bearskin cap down upon his head
and turned to retrace his steps. Turning, his eye fell upon an object
that Eric had just taken from the steward and held up to the light to
examine. The flames caught at it eagerly, flashing and sparkling, so
that even at that distance Alwin had no difficulty in recognizing the
brass-hilted knife. Eric burst into a mighty roar of laughter. His
voice, never greatly subdued, penetrated to every corner of the room. "I
could stake my head that it is Leif's! I myself gave it to him for a
name-fastening. And you found it in Skroppa's den? Oh, this is worth a
hearing! Here is mirth! In Skroppa's den,--Leif the Christian! Ho,
Flein, Asmund, Adils, comrades,--listen to this! No jester ever invented
such a jest."

He got on his feet and beckoned them with both arms, stamping with
laughter. Catching sight of Alwin's white face at the door,--for it was
ashen white,--he beckoned him also, with a fresh burst of malicious
laughter.

"And you, you little priest-robed puppet, come nearer, so you shall not
lose a word. Oh, it will be great fun for you! And for you, my
Thorhild,--and the haughty-headed Helga! And gray old Tyrker too! Listen
now, Graybeard, and learn, even with one foot in the grave. Saw you
never such a game as this foster-son of yours has played with unchanging
face!" He choked with his laughter, so that his face grew purple; and
the household waited, leaning from the benches, nudging and whispering;
the servants gaping over the dishes in their hands; Alwin standing by
the door, motionless as the dead; Sigurd sitting, still as the dead, in
his place.

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