Ulric the Jarl: A Story of the Penitent Thief

by William O. Stoddard

"The wind riseth well and so do yonder flames," said Lysias; "but they who are dead feel no pain of burning. Within me is a fire which is a continual torment. The harp were a relief, and I will sing."

It seemed as if a strange spirit of wild song had come upon him and his lyre. It mattered not greatly that few of the vikings understood his words, so fierce and so triumphant was the music of his singing. Moreover, they looked upon his face and it gave them an interpretation, for there was a terrible meaning in its expression.

Now the rowers ceased and the sail was up, but the burning Roman ship also felt the fresh wind, and it was as if it strove to keep them company while Lysias sang.

"She will founder shortly," said the jarl. "We are leaving her. I would I knew more nearly whitherto we have come. We are far in the Middle Sea and we should be near some of its islands."

"Thou knowest," remarked Sigurd, the son of Thorolf, "that opposite to the southerly point of Italy there lieth a great island, whereon is a volcano, vomiting fire, for under it is the world which burns, and there do the gods war with one another. I think we are between that island, which is called Sicily, and a part of Africa. O Jew, what sayest thou? Thou hast visited many parts of Africa."

"We have wandered here and there," said Ben Ezra. "The question is difficult. But if yonder haze telleth of the coast of Sicily we may meet another trireme soon. There are many hereabout. They will for the greater part be merchantmen."

Down sank the vessel they had burned, with much loud hissing of fire meeting water, and the clouds of smoke and steam went up while the Saxons blew their war horns and shouted their exultation. They all had feasted well, however, and those who were not on watch were willing to slumber while the increasing gale carried The Sword swiftly toward the east.

Another was at the helm, and Ulric, the son of Brander, went and sat down upon a silken-covered couch in the after cabin. He was alone, and he brought out his jewels to look at them. They were many and they were beautiful, and he turned them over one by one.

"Never before," he said, "did I have so good a lamp as this that hangeth here. The oil, too, is perfumed and the room is full of a sweet odor. These are the ways of the Roman captains and rich men. I may not see Rome, for there are too many quinqueremes in the way, too many legions of warriors on the land. We are few. I do not care much for their gods, for I have beaten them. I will go on to Asgard, but I will go first to this temple in Jerusalem. Ben Ezra saith that I can buy both priests and governors with these bright stones. But I may have to slay my own men if they obey not. If I cut down a few of them the rest will be more peaceable. These Saxons that came with Sigurd hardly call me their jarl. If they were dead it would not matter. I will go my own way."

The ruby was now in his hand, the great red stone that was graven with the name of the Hebrew god, and among them all there was no other like this. It glowed like fire in the lamplight, and Ulric said: "It is full of blood. It is a stone of stones. But whence came the blood, and how is it full of fire? Is he angry with me? I think I will carry his gem to him in his temple, and I will tell him I have brought it back. I would not keep from any god that which is his."