A Sea Queen's Sailing

by Charles W. Whistler

My father came and sat himself beside me, and he was as I had seen him last, dressed in his mail, but with a peace on his face instead of the war light. My brothers came, and they stood before us, not smiling, but grave and content. The courtmen whom I had loved came, and they ranged themselves across the deck, and I watched them, and felt no wonder that they should be here. Surely my longings had called them, and they came. So I and they all bided still for a little while; and then the courtmen raised their weapons toward me as in salute, and drifted from the deck into the white mists over the water, and were gone. Then those two mighty brethren of mine smiled on me, with a still smile, and so they, too, were gone, and only my father was left; and he, too, rose up, and stood before me where the brothers had been, and it seemed to me that he spoke to me.

"Now are you the last of our line, the line which goes back to Odin, my son; and on you it lies that no dishonour shall fall on that line, which has never yet been stained. And we trust you. So be strong, for there are deeds to be done yet in the days that lie before you."

Then he set his hand on my shoulder, and passed to join those others, and how I do not know. I was alone.

Then a longing to be with them again came over me, and I rose and stretched my hands to the place where I had seen them, but there was nothing--until I turned a little, looking for them; and then I knew that there was one who would speak to me yet.

The penthouse chamber was open, and it seemed to be filled with a white light and soft, and in the doorway stood the old king, beckoning to me, so that, for all my fears, I must needs go to him. Yet there was naught for me to fear in the look which he turned on me.

"Friend," he said, "the old sea which I love should be my grave. See to it that so it shall be. Then shall you do the bidding of the maiden whom I have loved, my son's daughter, and it shall be well with you, and with those friends of yours and of mine who sleep yonder."

Therewith he paused, and his glance went to the things which lay round the boats and in them--the things which had been set in the ship for the hero to take to Asgard with him.

"See these things," he said again. "They are hers, and not mine. There will be a time when she will have need of them. In the place where I shall be is no need of treasure, as I deemed before I knew. Nor of sword, or mail, or gear of war at all. And the ways of the peace of that place are the best."

Then I was alone on the deck, and the tall figure with the long white beard and hair was no longer before me. The chamber was closed, even as we had left it, and there was neither sign nor sound to tell me how that had been wrought. And with that a terror came on me, and I went backward toward where my comrades lay, crying to them by name, and my knees failed me, and I fell on the deck, unknowing if they heard.

Bertric leapt up and saw me falling, and ran to me.