Havelok the Dane: A Legend of Old Grimsby and Lincoln

by Charles W. Whistler

So he went across the gangway, and to his horse, and rode away quickly, calling back to us, “Hasten, for we wait for you. And I will find you lodgings in the town for the time that you bide with us.”

Now at first that seemed somewhat hazardous, for we had meant to stay in the ship, lest we should have to fly for any reason suddenly. But it seemed that we had no choice but to do as he bade us, and we could not doubt him in any way. We should go armed, of course, as in a strange place; and, after all, unless Hodulf heard of us, and wanted to see us, he was not to be feared as yet. So I fell to wondering where our lodgings would he, and if the old families still dwelt in the houses that I had known, and then who had ours. Many such thoughts will crowd into the mind of one who sees his old land again after many years, and finds naught changed, to the eye at least.

Men have told me that, as we came into the hall presently, they thought us the most goodly company that had ever crossed its threshold; and that is likely, for at our head were Havelok and Goldberga. Raven was a mighty warrior to look on as he came next, grave and silent, with far-seeing grey eyes that were full of watching, as it were, from his long seafaring, and yet had the seaman’s ready smile in them. And Withelm was the pattern of a well-made youth who has his strength yet to gather, and already knows how to make the best use of that he has. There were none but thought that he was the most handsome of the three sons of Grim. And last came I, and I am big enough, at least, to stand at Havelok’s back; and for the rest, one remembers what Eglaf said of me. But I do not think that any noticed us with those twain to look at, unless they scanned our arms, which were more after the English sort than the Danish, so far as mail and helms are concerned, and therefore might seem strange.

The old hall was not changed at all; and handsome it seemed after Alsi’s, though it was not so large. There were more and better weapons on the walls, and carved work was everywhere, so that in the swirl and heat-flicker of the torches the beams, and door posts, and bench ends, and the pillars of the high seat seemed alive with knotted dragons that began, and ended, and writhed everywhere, wondrous to look on. Our English have not the long winter nights, and cruel frosts, and deep snow that make time for such work as this for the men of the household.

There fell a silence as we came in, and then Sigurd greeted us; and we were set on the high seat, and feasted royally. On right and left of our host sat Havelok and Goldberga, and the jarl’s wife next to Havelok, and Biorn the Brown, the sheriff, next to our princess. This was a newcomer here since my days, but well we liked him.

There is nothing to tell of what happened at this feast, for Sigurd asked no questions of us but the most common ones of sea, and wind, and voyage, and never a word that would have been hard for Havelok to answer in this company, where men of Hodulf’s might well be present. Withelm noticed this, and said that no doubt it was done purposely, and he thought much of it.

When we had ended with song and tale, and it was near time for rest, Sigurd bade Biorn, the sheriff, take us to his house for the night, telling him that he must answer for our safety, and specially that of the fair lady who had come from so far. And then he gave us a good guard of his housecarls to take us down the street, as if he feared some danger.

“Why, jarl,” said Biorn, “our guests will have a bad night if they think that in our quiet place they need twenty men to see them to bed thus!”

“Nay, but the town is strange to the lady,” answered Sigurd; “and who knows what she may fear in a foreign land!”

So Biorn laughed, and was content; and we bade farewell to the jarl, and went out. And then I found that it was to my father’s house we were to go, for it had been given to Biorn.