SAXON AND VIKING AT THE SWORD'S POINT.
"Who overcomes
By force hath overcome but half his foe."
Milton..
The burning and rankling feeling of hatred and contempt engendered in the breast of Sigurd against Oswald (as the result of his spying a second time upon the Saxon chieftain and Alice de Montfort) was of such a consuming nature that he must needs force himself into the presence of Ethel at the very first opportunity. In tones fierce and rancorous, he told her the story of Oswald's secret and unprincipled love—as he considered it—for the fair Norman.
"Ethel, girl," said he, "I have dogged this renegade myself, and know of a truth that he holds illicit intercourse with this dark-eyed Norman hussy, and that he keeps tryst with her o' nights when honest men are abed, deceiving Saxon and Norman alike."
"What have I to do with this, my lord? I pray you pursue this matter no farther," said Ethel.
"All honest men, whether Saxon or Norse, have to do with traitors to their country. This deceiver professes undying enmity against our common foe, but does not hesitate to betray his country and the Saxon cause to win a smile from this temptress."
"My lord," said Ethel, in firm tones, "I cannot listen to your harsh judgments of him. He is our chosen leader, and I do not hesitate to say in your hearing, he is our only possible leader. He is sagacious as brave, and if he cannot rally our scattered and dispirited people, then our cause is hopeless. I do not believe he is a renegade, as you say. He is no traitor to his country, but her most valorous and faithful defender."
"I tell thee, girl, he is in league with this siren! I know of what I speak! How can he prostrate himself before her without despising and betraying his own people?"
"My lord, what is this to me? If he loves this fair Norman, it is not to be wondered at; she gave him his life. She is surpassingly beautiful; and she is virtuous and good as well. Listen, my lord, to what the palmers tell us of her benefactions, and her kindness to those in distress."
"She supplanted thee, girl, dost thou think of that? She hath stolen what of right should be thine—what would have been thine, but for her! How canst thou find excuses for this she-wolf and her base paramour?"
"My lord, such words are an affront to me. A Saxon maiden does not need to go a-begging for a lover."
"Ethel, thou dost tantalise me! Thou art blind. Thy love for him doth make thee mad! But I will be avenged on them both, whether thou approve of it or not."
"My lord," said Ethel, drawing herself to her full height, whilst her eyes flashed fire, "who told you I loved him? Are you going to make a palmer's song about me, and sing it through the whole camp? I will not have you assuming what I have not told you. Let me tell you, once for all, a Saxon girl will love where she pleases, and only where she pleases. Your references are an insult to me!"
This was said with all the energy she could command. Then, rising, she passed hastily from the room. But scarcely had she closed the door behind her when her strength failed, and she sank exhausted into a seat.
"Mercy on us!" shrieked Eadburgh, rushing off for a mug of cold water, and dashing it over her face with her fingers. "Whatever is the matter? That loutish fellow has been making love again, I'll warrant! He'll drive the poor body clean mad if he does not let her alone. Such a great mountain of flesh would frighten anybody, let alone a wee bit of a lady-like creature as my mistress."
Sigurd, we need not say, was still further maddened by this additional repulse, and in a rage which would brook no further control, he hurried off in quest of Oswald, whom he found superintending the efforts of the workmen. Oswald saw that he was greatly agitated and evidently in a terrible passion.
"A word in thine ear," he hissed fiercely to Oswald, as he passed.
Oswald followed him until they were beyond the hearing of others.
"What is thy business this morning, pray?" said Oswald, who saw quite plainly that a rupture was imminent.
"My errand is to unmask a traitor, and either make an honest man of him, or else make an end of him."
"If thou hast business of such import as this—and thy looks betoken it—it were best to speak plainly, and come to the point at once."
"My business is with thee, for thou art a renegade, and a trickster; dancing attendance on a Norman woman, and bartering thy country's cause and thy people's liberties, to win a smile from a trumpery Norman jade. Now thou hast it in plain terms."
"Thou liest, Jarl. And once more thy madness passes the bounds of toleration. Let me tell thee I will have no more ebullitions of thy ungovernable temper, or any more of thy intriguing and sowing of discord amongst my people. So be pleased at once to betake thyself to thy own domain, or anywhere thou likest, so that thou cross my path no more. There thou art at liberty to act thine own part without let or hindrance."
"Ah, finely spoken, no doubt! and smoothly as any Norman courtier could mouth it! Thou hast the trick of it, truly. But thou mayest save thy fine speeches, and lisp them to thy lady-love, for they win not upon me. I will tell thee further,—to put a few leagues of honest Saxon soil between thee and me will not heal our differences. Nor will I try such a remedy unless more wholesome methods fail me."
"There are no differences between us, saving such as are hatched in thy muddy brain, Jarl; and what may be the methods of healing them which thou hintest at, I know not. But I see that madman's look in thy eye, with which I am too familiar, and I opine that mischief, aye, deadly mischief, is designed by thee, if thy ability to work mischief fail thee not."
"The curse of Skuld be upon thee, traitor! Thou hast guessed rightly, so draw at once and stand upon thy guard, or I will run thee through with as little compunction as I would a dog," said the Viking, wildly brandishing his sword, and advancing on Oswald.
Whilst this war of words was proceeding, the whole camp was thoroughly aroused, and curious eyes from every nook and corner anxiously peered out to see what this fateful altercation would lead to. But when weapons were unsheathed, the churls eagerly thronged about their respective chieftains in feverish excitement. Oswald would fain have settled this quarrel without appeal to arms; or if that could not be, then he would have preferred it apart from the clamour and partizanship of the camp. Sigurd's unbridled rage, however, put this out of the question. Being, therefore, forced into this appeal to the sword, he unsheathed his weapon; and the two broadswords, in the grip of two as powerful antagonists as the sea-encircled lands of Britain contained, came together like the shock of lances in knightly charge.
Oswald, unlike his opponent, was perfectly cool, though not by any means blind or indifferent to the momentous issues involved in this life-and-death struggle. He knew that any yielding, or declining of the combat, either in the interest of peace, or for any other reason, meant the loss of supremacy in the camp. He knew also that Sigurd meant it to be to the death. Now, Oswald fell little short of Sigurd in sheer brute strength and force; and in coolness of temper, agility, and skill, he was much more than a match for his opponent. He saw clearly also that this was to be no child's play, but dead earnest. The look in the black and louring visage of Sigurd, and the unmitigated ferocity of his onslaught, told more plainly than words that he, at least, would give no quarter. Oswald fought a purely defensive battle, having no desire to injure his foeman, but steadily parrying, with masterly skill, the thundering blows of Sigurd, steadily giving ground before his eager and impetuous onslaught. None knew better than he, however, that vital exhaustion must follow quickly on the heels of such dire rage; and it soon became very evident to him that the pace was telling upon his adversary. The rush and eagerness of his attack, and the consuming passion within him, told their tale very speedily, for the perspiration poured from him in streams, and his countenance became deadly pale. This was soon followed by a palpable weakening of the strength of his wrist; and Oswald, watching carefully every stroke of his adversary, awaited his chance. Soon it came; and with one powerful blow he sent the weapon from Sigurd's grasp. Then, in a climax of senseless rage at losing his weapon, Sigurd rushed on Oswald, in the vain endeavour to close with him. But Oswald, turning the flat of his sword, dealt him a powerful blow on the head with its broadside, which knocked him senseless and bleeding to the ground. He quickly rose to his feet again, however.
"There," said Oswald, coolly sheathing his weapon, "take thy sword. I have given thee thy life. Be advised, and cross my path no more whilst thou art in thy present mood, for, Saxon or no Saxon, there will be but one more passage-at-arms between me and thee; and thou mayest fare worse at our next meeting."
"I offer thee no thanks for thy clemency, nor do I abate one jot of my hatred of thee and of thy womanish philandering with Norman wenches, when thy countrymen's blood cries aloud for vengeance. I warn thee to take heed lest, next time we meet, fortune may not be on thy side." So, with a scowl, he hurried off.
Oswald remained for a long time with folded arms and bowed head, pacing to and fro on the sward, in anxious and troubled thought, which found vent in audible words.
"Too well I understand that foul menace, and well I understand the untamed and implacable nature of this foe in my own household. When our forefathers broke upon this land, wild and daring, counting human life as nothing, and ruthlessly trampling underfoot their fallen enemies, none more fierce and cruel in all the savage crews were there than he. But this is the question to be settled: were those old days of heathenish rites and savage valour the prime days of our race? Our forefathers braved all hazards, and they were a conquering people. What are we? Are we not abjectly ground down—a subject race, and serfs of a braver people? Is this lingering type of our ancient race in the right? What are books; and music; and chivalry? What is this lately born love of mercy, and justice, and righteousness? Tell me, is it merely a debilitating southern wind come this way, transforming heroes into effeminate dreamers, and weaklings? Can I be again a Saxon of the old type?—for I must make my choice here, and now. A Viking, with savage instincts, and implacable, undying hatred of my enemies; indulging in ruthless butchery and indiscriminate massacre of helpless women and children. Can I see eye to eye with this man? This question I must settle once for all!"
He took a turn, in deep mental conflict.
"No!" said he, with concentrated energy; "it cannot be, come what may. I abominate his savagery! I despise his ignorance, and his boorish habits! He and I can never be one in aim and action. Then, I owe my life to this fair Norman; such a debt upon my honour calls aloud for a full requital. Besides all this," said he, whilst his broad chest heaved with the powerful emotions which stirred within him, "waking I hear continually the music of her voice, and I see the love-light in her dark eye. Sleeping I commune with her, and I dream of days of peace and happiness to come. The die is cast, and my path is marked out for me! Perilous it is in very truth, with Norman foes destitute of mercy, and, added to them, a foe in this mad Norseman, cruel and revengeful as death. I will follow the light! Let God judge between me and this people he hath given me to defend."