"Well knew I that somewhat was to happen to me in this town, even as I told you, brother, when we first pa.s.sed its gates. And now it seems to be coming to pa.s.s. For this is what is on me, as it seems to me -- either that I must see the light of day no more, or must live to be a scorn and sorrow to one for whom it were meet that a man should die."
"Surely the black dream is on you, my brother! Neither of these things can be for you!" I cried.
"Would that it were the dream, for that is not all of sorrow, and that also is of things so long past that they are forgotten. I can bear that, for your voice always drives it away. But now the hand of Alsi the king is on me for some ill of his own --"
"Stay," said Withelm. "Let us go out and speak, if that name is to be heard. It were safer."
"Less safe, brother," answered Havelok. "At once we should be kept apart. Listen, and I will tell you all, and then say your say."
Then he told us, word for word, all that had just pa.s.sed between him and the king. And as we listened, it grew on us that here was no wrong to the princess, but rather the beginning of honour. I could see the downfall that was in store for Alsi, and I thought also that I saw hope for the winning back of the Danish kingdom, with an East Anglian host to back us. And this also saw Withelm, and his eyes sparkled. But Havelok knew not yet all that had grown so plain to us.
He ended, and we said nothing for a moment.
"Well?" he said, not looking up, but with eyes that sought the floor, as if ashamed.
"By Odin," said I, speaking the thought that was uppermost, "here will be a downfall for Alsi!"
"Ay, you are right, brother. I will not wed her."
But that was by no means what I meant, as may be known; and now Withelm held up a warning hand to me, and I knew that his advice was always best.
"If the maiden is unwilling, wed her not," he said. "If she is willing, even as the king said, that is another matter. We have no reason to doubt his word as yet."
"You saw not his face as he spoke. And then, how should the princess think of me?"
"Who knows? Even Odin owned that the minds of maids were hard to fathom. But one may find a reason or two. Maybe that oath has somewhat to do with it. A good daughter will go far to carry out her father"s will, and, in the plain sense thereof, she will certainly do it thus. Then it is likely that she knows that you are no churl, but the son of Grim, though we have fallen on hard times for a while. I have heard say that it is the custom here that a man who has crossed the seas in his own ship so many times is a thane by right of that hardihood. Thane"s son, therefore, might we call you. Then there is the jealousy of every other thane, if she chooses an East Anglian. Then she needs one who shall be mighty to lead her forces. Even the greatest thane will be content to follow a man who is a warrior of warriors. Ragnar can have told her what you are in that way. Faith, brother, there are reasons enough."
Havelok laughed a short laugh at all this, and he grew brighter. There was sense in Withelm"s words, if they would not bear looking deeply into.
Then I said, adding to these words, "Moreover, Alsi could stop the whole foolishness of his niece if he did not think it a fitting match in some way."
"So he could," answered Havelok. "But yet -- I tell you that there was naught but evil in his face. Why did he try to force me?"
Then he went back to the thing that weighed mostly on his n.o.ble heart -- the thought that he was unworthy altogether.
"I fear that the princess does but think of me because she must. It is in my mind that Alsi may have threatened her also until she has consented. How shall I know this?"
"Most easily, as she speaks with you," answered Withelm. "Tomorrow will tell you that. And then, if you find things thus, what shall prevent your flying?"
"Brother Radbard and the other housecarls," said Havelok grimly.
"Not if you ask the princess to help you out of her own way by pretending to be most willing. If Alsi thinks you a gladsome couple, there is no difficulty. You walk out of the palace as a master there. Then you fly to Ragnar. That is all."
Now that was such an easy way out of the whole coil that we planned it out. And yet it seemed to me that it was a pity that Havelok knew not more of what seemed to us so sure now. So, seeing that things were fairly straightened by this last thought, I got up and said that I must be going, making a sign to Withelm to come also; and, with a few more words, we went out. I saw Havelok set himself to a mighty task of water drawing as I looked back.
"Now," said I, "here is a strange affair with a vengeance. Neither head nor tail can I make of it. But if all we think is right, this is the marriage for the son of Gunnar."
"Son of Gunnar, or son of Grim," said Withelm, "princess or not, happy is the maiden who gains Havelok for a husband. Maybe her woman"s wit has told her so. She will have many suitors whom she knows to be seeking her throne only, and to him she gives it as a gift unsought."
"That is all beyond me," I said; "but he would fill a throne well. But his own modesty in the matter of his worthiness is likely to stand in the way. Why should we not tell him all that we know? Then he will feel that he is doing no wrong."
"Because we are not sure, and because it is not for us to choose the time. I have sent for Arngeir this morning, as we said would be well last night. If the princess is unwilling, there are many things that may be said; and if not, there must be many days before the wedding; and, ere the day, Havelok may feel that he is her equal in birth at least, if we are not wrong. But since I have waited here, Mord has told me the dream that has troubled the princess, that I may tell the priest, so that he can think it over. She has dreamed that she is to wed a man who shall be king both in Denmark and England, and she saw the man, moreover. Strangely like Havelok"s dream is that. Now what else made her turn faint but that this vision was like Havelok? And does not that make it possible that she wishes to wed him? Therefore I am going to tell the priest the story of Havelok, so far as I know it."
"Well thought of. Tell him this also, for now I may surely tell you what you have not yet heard thereof."
So I told him how Grim and I had taken Havelok from Hodulf, and then he was the more certain that we had saved the son of our king.
Now we thought that we had got to the bottom of the whole matter of the wedding. Of course the dream had all to do with the fainting, but nothing to do with the supposed wish. But we did not know that.
"Speak not of Gunnar by name, however," I said; "he was a terror to Christian folk. The priest is likely to hinder the marriage with all his might else."
Withelm flushed as he had when he first spoke of the priest to me.
"I think not, brother; for he knows Havelok well, and loves him."
"So," said I shortly, "he hopes to make him a Christian, doubtless."
"I think that he will do so, if he has a Christian wife to help."
"That would not suit Havelok," I said, laughing.
"Nay, but such a mind as his it seems to suit well already, though he has not heard much."
"Why, then," said I, wondering, "if it suits our best and bravest, it must be a wondrous faith. It seems strange, however; but I know naught of it. What is good for him and you, my brother, is sure to be best."
"I feared that you would be angry."
"Nay, but with you and Havelok? How should that be? Why, if you two said that we must turn Christian, I should hold it right; so would Raven. I suppose that I go to the Ve 11 because you do."
Now I troubled no more about the matter, being nothing but a sea dog who could use a weapon. And now I said that I was going to Eglaf to say that I might have to leave him at any time for home, in case we had to fly with Havelok. So Withelm went his way to the old priest with a light heart, and I to the captain.
"Well," said Eglaf, "this is about what I expected when your brother came. Good it has been to have you here; and I think that I shall see you as a housecarl for good yet. When do you go?"
"The first time that I do not turn up on guard I am gone, not till then."
"Come and drink a farewell cup first."
"I shall be in a great hurry if I do not do that," I answered, laughing.
But it was my thought that maybe when once my back was turned on the town, I should not have time to think of going near King Alsi"s guard.
Then I went to find Ragnar the earl, for we thought it well that he should know what was on hand. But when I came to the house of the thane with whom he was quartered, they told me that he had gone hastily with all his men, for word had come of some rising in his land that must be seen to at once. That was bad; and as one must find a reason for everything, I thought that the going of Griffin had much to do with the outbreak. There I was wrong, as I found later. But then, too, I knew that the craft of Alsi was at work in this message. He had his own reasons for wishing the earl out of the way.
CHAPTER XVI. A STRANGEST WEDDING.
Long spoke Withelm and the priest David together, until it was time for them to seek the palace; and when they came there, they spoke to Mord also. Then David thought it was well to say naught to Havelok until more was learned from Goldberga herself, for he would soon see how things stood with her. Then he would see Withelm again, and they would plan together for the best. So Withelm waited for the return of the priest, whom Mord took to his mistress. Alsi and his men were supping in the hall, but Goldberga was waiting in her own chamber.
Now the princess thought that, after her message to the king, she would hear no more of the kitchen knave, and so was happier. But all the while she pondered over her dream the thought of Havelok must needs come into it, and that was troublesome. Nevertheless, it was not to be helped, seeing that there was no doubt at all that he and the man of the vision were like to each other as ever were twins. Wherefore if the thought of one must be pleasant so at last must be that of the other. And then came the nurse with tales of what Berthun thought of this man of his -- how that he was surely a wandering prince, with a vow of service on him, like Gareth of the Round Table in the days of Arthur.