CHAPTER VII.
THE VERDICT OF THE SWORD.
A shout of congratulation rose from the ship as the boat drew near and the anxious watchers counted the fourteen men returned again with their prisoner. Drink was served round in huge beakers, and the superstitious fears vanished like the fog as they rowed in triumph out of the bay.
They could see behind them the flames and smoke rising ever higher from the burning vessels, and as the ale mounted to their heads they shouted derisive defiance across the water.
"Where shall we go now?" asked Grim.
"Do you know of any uninhabited holm where we could land by daybreak?" said Estein.
"There are many such about the Orkneys; one I know well, which methinks we should reach soon after sunrise. There I shall take you."
Ketill came up at that moment with a great horn of ale, and cried, with a joviality only shown when drink flowed freely,—
"Drink, Estein, drink!—drink to the soul of Liot Skulison, which shall shortly speed to Valhalla. Shall we slay him now, or keep that sport till we have better light to see him die?"
"I have other work on hand than drinking. Liot and I have an account to settle at daybreak."
Ketill stared at him in astonishment.
"You mean then in very truth to fight?" he cried. "Well, do as you wish; but it is a strange spell."
He left the poop with his horn, and Estein seated himself on a stool, and leaning back against the bulwarks, tried to rest.
His face was set, his mind made up, and he only waited impatiently for the hour of his trial. Sleep came to him in uneasy snatches, during which he seemed to pass years of wild adventure, haunted all the time by strangely distorted Oslas. He woke at last to the chill of a grey morning and the roll of a Viking ship. With a little shiver he started to his feet, and began to pace the deck.
Presently Helgi joined him, and laid his hand on his arm.
"Estein," he said, "tempt not your fate too far. Never before have I seen witchcraft such as this. Why should you fear the wrath of the gods? I tell you, my brother, you are under a spell; let us seek some magician who will cure you, and not rashly look for death when you are wearied with sleepless nights and black magic. If the wrath of the gods is really on you, it will fall were you to flee from men and seek refuge in the loneliest cave on all these coasts. I will slay Liot Skulison for you; in fair fight if you will, though I think not he deserves such a chance. Was it a fair fight when he fell on our two ships with his ten?"
"I would slay him, Helgi, like a dog, were it not that something within me bids me ask in this wise the wishes of Odin."
"'Tis the voice of yon witch."
"She is no witch, Helgi, only the fairest girl in all the North. Listen, and I will tell you the story of this spell; but remember it is to you alone I tell it, and never must another know of my shame."
"Have you ever known me betray your trust?"
"Never, Helgi, my brother, or you would not hear this tale. To me it seems the story of six years of my life, though it was scarcely as many weeks; but I shall make it as brief as I may."
"The hour is yet early."
"After the battle, Helgi, I should have been drowned but for that maid you saw. She saved my life, and that at least I owe her. She brought me to the abode of her father, the hermit of the Holy Isle; and there I learned to love her. For six weeks I was no Viking. I forgot my kinsfolk and my country, forgot all but Osla."
"Call you not that a spell?"
"Did you not say yourself that you had known many spells like that, cast on men by maids? It was the magic of love that entangled me."
"Men said the hermit was a wizard."
"No wizard, Helgi, or he had never let me come there. He was a moody and fitful old man. I pleased him with my songs, talked to him of the strange religion he professes—for he is what men call a Christian—and grew in time to think of him as a friend. (Verily, I think there must have been magic!) All this while I spoke no word of love to Osla, though I think she was not indifferent to me."
"It was easy to see that."
"Twice on that island a voice I could not name warned me from beyond the grave, but I heeded it not. (Can the man have been a wizard?) One night—it was the night you landed, Helgi—I sat alone with the hermit. Something had moved him to talk. I remember now! it was a song I sung myself. He told me a tale of a burning.
"Helgi, he had hardly begun ere I knew the end, and could name my warning voice. The tale was the burning of Laxafiord, and the voice was my brother Olaf's."
"And the hermit?"
"Is Thord the Tall, the last of the burners."
"Is! Then you slew him not?"
"My dagger was drawn, I was bending towards him, when I heard without the steps of Osla. I fled—ask me not what I thought or what I did. Thord the Tall and I both live, and I would know whether the gods would have it so. Wherefore I meet Liot this morning."
"Then you have spared Olaf's burner for the sake of the burner's daughter?"
"I had eaten his bread and shared his dwelling for six weeks, and but for that daughter I had never lived to meet him."
"He slew your brother, Estein."
"There is no need to remind me of that."
"Methinks there is; he still lives."
"And I still love his daughter."
Estein turned away as he spoke, and gazed with folded arms over the grey waters.
Helgi looked at him in silence; then he went up to his side.
"Forgive me, Estein," he said, "and let Odin judge you. I love you too well to be aught but a friend whatever you may do."
"Helgi! but for you I think I should fall upon my sword."
His friend tried to force a laugh, but it came hard.
"Nay, rather seek a sword for Liot Skulison, for I see we are nearing the holm."
"I had forgotten Liot," said Estein. "We will loose his bonds, and let him choose his weapons."
He found Liot sitting in the waist bound hand and foot. His eye was as firm as if he had been in his own hall, and he looked up indifferently as Estein approached.
"Do you remember me, Liot?" asked his captor.
"Ay, Estein. You, methinks, are one of the bairns I thought I had slain. Well was it for you that the Orkney tides run strong. But the luck has changed, I see; and you were a bold man, Estein Hakonson, to change it as you did. Why did you not burn us out?"
"Because I wanted you alone."
"Ay, torture is a pleasant game for the torturers. How do you intend that I shall die?"
"By my sword, if the gods will it. In an hour, Liot, we fight to the death. Our battle-ground is yonder holm, the weapons you may choose yourself; and meanwhile I shall loose your bonds, and if you wish to eat or drink you may."
A look of blank astonishment came over the Viking captain's face.
"This is a merry jest, Estein," he said.
"It is no jest.—Loose his bonds, men."
Liot gave a shout of joy.
"Estein," he cried, "you are a brave man, but I think you are fey."
"That will soon be seen."
The Viking's cool indifference gave place to the most exuberant excitement. Like everybody else he thought that Estein was either mad or the victim of some enchantment; but so long as he was going to strike a good blow for life, he cared not how the chance had come. He called for ale and meat, and with the eye of an old soldier carefully picked his weapons; while the men around him muttered to each other that Estein was surely fey.
All this time they had been sailing eastwards before a light breeze. The sun had long been up, but the whole sky was obscured by light clouds, and there was an early morning feel in the air. Nearly the whole length of the wide and lonely firth that divides Orkney from the Scottish coast lay behind them, and close ahead they saw the little island that Grim had chosen for the meeting-place. When they had reached the holm they anchored the ship close inshore, and two boat-loads of men were first sent to prepare the field of battle. Then when all was ready the two combatants, attended by Helgi and Ketill, were rowed ashore.
Liot was gay and cheerful as a man going to a feast; while Estein sat silent in the stern, his thoughts busy with a landing at another island.
"You need ale, Estein," said his opponent; "a man going to fight should be gay."
"It is more fitting," replied Helgi, "for the man who comes back to be cheerful."
"Well said," said Ketill.
Liot only laughed, and springing ashore before the boat had touched the rocks, cried,—
"I had little thought to have such a pleasant morning. We will finish what we began before, Estein."
"Ay, we will finish," said Estein.
They found a wide ring marked off with stones, and in this the two champions took their stand. Each was armed with a helmet and a coat of ring-mail, and bore in his right hand a sword, and in his left a long, heart-shaped shield. Round their waists another sword was girded, though there was likely to be little time to draw this. In height and build they were very equally matched, but men noticed that Estein moved more lightly on his feet.
In a loud voice Ketill proclaimed that whoever should withdraw outside the ring of stones should ever after bear the name of dastard.
Then all went outside the circle, and with a shout Liot sprang at his foe. Estein caught the sword on his shield, and in return delivered such a storm of blows that Liot got no chance for a blow in return. He began to give ground, Estein pressing him hotly, his blade flashing so fast that men could not follow it. It was easily seen that in quickness and dexterity with his weapon Liot was inferior to his foe; but with wary eye and cool head he kept well covered with his shield, shifting his ground all the time. Twice he was nearly driven over the line, but each time saved himself by a rapid side movement.
"I fear that Estein will tire," muttered Helgi.
"Ay; he has started too hard," replied Ketill.
It seemed as if they were right. Estein's blows became less frequent, and Liot in turn attacked hotly. He made as little impression, however, as Estein, and then by mutual consent both men stopped for a minute's breathing-space.
"You seem tired, Estein," said Liot.
"Guard yourself," was the reply, and the fight began again. As before, Estein attacked hotly, Liot steadily giving ground.
"Too hard, too hard! after two sleepless nights he cannot fight long like this," exclaimed Helgi.
So thought Liot, and he bided his time with patience. He was opposed, however, by one of the best and most determined swordsmen in Norway, and Estein as well as any one knew the risk he ran. He rained in his blows like a hailstorm; but fast though they came, he was sparing his strength, and there was less vigour in his attack than there seemed. He bent all his energies on driving Liot back on the ring, shifting his ground as fast as his foe, heading off his attempts to move round, and all the while watching keenly for an opening.
"He wins, Ketill! he wins!" cried Helgi.
"Ay," said the black-bearded captain; "there is little skill we can teach Estein."
As they neared the stones, Estein's onset became more furious than ever; sword and shield had to shift up and down, right and left, to guard his storm of blows, and all the while Liot was being driven back the faster towards one place where larger stones than usual had been used to make the ring. In vain he sprang suddenly to one side; Estein was before him, and his blade nearly found its way home. Two paces more Liot gave way, and then his heel struck a boulder. For an instant he lost his balance, and that moment was his last on earth. As the shield shifted, Estein's sword came full on his neck, and it was only the bairn-slayer's body that fell without the ring.
"Bring the spades!" cried Ketill—"a fitting enough epitaph for
Liot Skulison."
His conqueror was already in Helgi's arms.
"I thought I should have had to avenge you, Estein. My heart is light again."
"Odin has answered me, Helgi."
"And the spell is broken?"
"No; that spell, I fear, will break only with my death-wound."
Helgi laughed out of pure light-heartedness.
"There are fair maids in the south lands," he said.
"I go to Norway," replied Estein. "I would fain see the pine woods again."
That evening they saw the Orkneys faint and far away astern, and
Estein, as he watched them fade into the dusk, would have given
all Norway to hear again the roost run clamorous off the Holy
Isle.