A Sea Queen's Sailing

by Charles W. Whistler

They came carefully alongside a flat rock which they were wont to use as a landing place, and one leapt out, running to Father Phelim, and kneeling to him for his blessing. It was hard to make out his rough speech, but it was plain that his folk had feared lest somewhat should be amiss with the hermits. Phelim told them that their prince was here, and then there was much homage done of a humble sort to Dalfin, who took it as a matter of course, though the manner of it was more cringing and excited than any Norseman could have put up with. Presently, when all that was over, they asked him what his commands were, knowing that they had been summoned for his service.

He told them that they must go to his father, their king, and ask him to send a guard to meet us as soon as possible at their village, with all that was needed for our journey to the court. Thereafter they were to send their largest boat to ferry us across to the other side. Then he dismissed them, bidding them use all speed, and again they did homage after their manner, and bent before Phelim, and so paddled out among the waves as swiftly and skilfully as they had come. There was never a word of pay or even reward spoken. It would seem to be enough for them that they should be honoured in serving their lord, or else they had no choice but to do his bidding. Maybe that last is most likely.

Now we had to wait for their signal that all was ready for us, and how long that might be we could not tell. It depended mostly on where the king was holding his court, which the fishers did not know. In the end it came to pass that we had to wait four days here, and I will not say that they went at all quickly.

Dalfin waxed moody before the next day was over. He was one of those who loved excitement, and are only happy when one thing follows another fast, caring not what it may be so long as there is somewhat, even danger. I think it was as well that he was a mighty sleeper, being content to lie on a warm sand hill and slumber between his meals. Bertric and I built a pig stye out of wreck wood for the hermits, which pleased them mightily, and was certainly better than doing nothing. Gerda watched us quietly, and then we would climb to the top of the hill and look out toward the land in hopes of seeing the fire which the fishers were to light when all was in order for our going.

So it chanced on the second day that she and I had been up the hill together, and were coming back to Bertric and his work down the little glen, when we came suddenly on the old superior, who was walking with bent head among the trees of a clearing, musing. We had not seen him since the day when we came ashore.

He started when he saw us, and looked at us as if it was the first time that he had met us; and we were about to pass him quickly, with a little due reverence. But he spoke, and we stopped.

"I remember," he said. "You are the Lochlannoch who were cast ashore. Is all well with you?"

"In every way, father," I answered in the Gaelic.

He looked hard at me for a moment, and his face flushed slowly. It had been white before with the whiteness that comes of a dark cell and long biding within it. Only the warm sun had taken him out today, for Phelim said that he was close on ninety years of age. Then he set forth his hand to me, and laid it on my arm.

"Tell me who you are," he said.