"Let us ride on quickly down the Ermin Street, and he will think us making for the south and Norwich. Then we will turn off to Cabourn, and he will lose us. After that he may hear that some of us belong to Grimsby, and will go there; but he will be too late to hurt us. Hard men are our fishers, and they would fight for Havelok and the sons of Grim."
So we did that, riding down the old Roman way to a wide, waste forest land where none should see us turn off, and then across the forest paths to Cabourn; and there we found the hermit, and there Havelok and Goldberga were wedded again with all the rites of Holy Church, and the bride was well content.
Now while that was our way, I will say what we escaped by this plan of my brother"s, though we did not hear all for a long time. Presently we did hear what had happened at Grimsby towards this business, as will be seen.
To Lincoln comes Griffin, with Cadwal his thane, just as we had left the town thus by another road, and straightway he betakes himself to the palace. There he finds Alsi in an evil mood, and in the hall the people are talking fast, and there is no Berthun to receive him.
So, as he sits at the high table and breaks his fast beside the king, he asks what all the wonderment may be. And Alsi tells him, speaking in Welsh.
"East Anglia is mine," he says, "for I have rid myself of the girl."
Griffin sets his hand on his dagger.
"Hast killed her?" he says sharply.
"No; married her."
"To whom, then?"
"To a man whom the Witan will not have as a king at any price."
"There you broke faith with me," says Griffin, snarling. "I would have taken her, and chanced that."
"My oath was in the way of that. You missed the chance on the road the other day, which would have made things easy for us both. There was no other for you."
Now Griffin curses Ragnar, and the Welsh tongue is good for that business.
"Who is the man, then?" he says, when he has done.
"The biggest and best-looking countryman of yours that I have ever set eyes on," answers Alsi, looking askance at Griffin"s angry face. "There is a sort of consolation for you."
"His name," fairly shouts Griffin.
"Curan, the kitchen knave," says Alsi, chuckling.
"O fool, and doubly fool!" cries Griffin; "now have you outdone yourself. Was it not plain to you that the man could be no thrall? Even Ragnar looks mean beside him, and I hate Ragnar, so that I know well how goodly he is."
Now Alsi grows uneasy, knowing that this had become plainer and plainer to him as the wedding went on.
"Why, what do you know of this knave of mine?" he asks. "He was goodly enough for the sake of my oath, and the Witan will have none of him. That is all I care for."
"What do I know of him? Just this -- that you have married the queen of the East Angles to Havelok, son of Gunnar Kirkeban of Denmark, for whom men wait over there even now. The Witan not have him? I tell you that every man in the land will follow him and Goldberga if they so much as lift their finger. Done are the days of your kingship, and that by your own deed."
Alsi grows white at this and trembles, for he minds the wondrous ring and the names of the Asir, but he asks for more certainty.
Then Griffin tells him that he was with Hodulf, and knew all the secret of the making away with the boy, and how that came to naught. Then he says that Hodulf had heard from certain Vikings that they had fallen on Grim"s ship, and that in the grappling of the vessel the boy and a lady had been drowned. It is quite likely that they, or some of them, thought so in truth, seeing how that happened. After that Hodulf had made inquiry, and was told that there were none but the children of Grim with him, and so was content. So my father"s wisdom was justified.
"Now I learned his name the other day; and I have a ship waiting to take me at once to Hodulf, that I may warn him. I have ridden back from Grimsby even now to say that, given a chance, say on some lonely ride, that might well have been contrived, I would take Goldberga with me beyond the sea. I thought more of that than of Hodulf, to say the truth."
Now Alsi breaks down altogether, and prays Griffin to help him out of this.
"Follow the party and take her. They are few and unarmed, and it will be easy, for men think that there is a plot to carry her off, and this will not surprise any. Go to the sheriff and tell him that it has happened, and he will hang the men on sight when you have taken them. Then get to sea with the girl, and to Hodulf, and both he and I will reward you."
"Thanks," says Griffin, with a sneer; "I have my own men. Yours might have orders that I am the one to be hanged. It would be worth your while now to make a friend of your kitchen knave. You are not to be trusted."
So these two wrangle for a while bitterly, for Alsi is not overlord of Griffin in any way. And the end is that the thane rides towards Grimsby first of all, with twenty men at his heels, knowing more than we thought. But he hears naught of us, and presently meets Arngeir on his way thence to see us. Him he knows, for already he has had dealings with him in the hiring of the ship. So he learns from him that certainly no such party as he seeks is on the road, and therefore rides off to the Ermin Street to stay us from going south.
But now we had time for a long start; and so he follows the Roman road when he reaches it all that day and part of next, and we hear no more of him at that time. There are many parties travelling on that way, and he follows one after another.
Now Arngeir knew at once that somewhat had happened when he heard from Griffin that the most notable man of those whom he sought was named Curan, and therefore he turned back at once and waited for us. And when we came in sight of the long roof of the house that Grim, our father, had built, standing among the cl.u.s.tering cottages of our fishers, with the masts of a trading ship or two showing above it in the haven, he was there on the road to greet us, having watched anxiously for our coming from the beacon tower that we had made.
Maybe we were two miles out of Grimsby at this time, for one can see far along the level marsh tracks from our tower; and Withelm and Mord and I rode on to him as soon as we saw him, that we might tell him all that had happened, and we rode slowly and talked for half a mile or so.
Then Withelm waited and brought Havelok to us, staying himself with the princess, that he might tell her the wondrous story of her husband; for we thought that it would be easier for him than for our brother maybe. Havelok was not one to speak freely of himself.
And when Goldberga had heard all, she was silent for a long way, and then wept a little, but at last told Withelm that all this had been foretold to her in her dream.
"Yet I am glad," she said, "that I did not know this for certain, else had my Havelok thought that I did but wed him for his birth. Tell him, brother, that it was not so; say that I knew him as the husband Heaven sent for me when first I saw him."
Now Havelok listened to Arngeir as he told him the well-kept secret, and now and again asked a question.
And when all was told he said, "Now have the dreams pa.s.sed, and the light is come. I mind all plainly from the first."
And he told all that had happened after Hodulf caught him, from the murder of his sisters to the time when I helped my father to take him from the sack. Only he never remembered the death of his mother or the storm, or how we came to Grimsby. Maybe it is rather a wonder that after all those hard things gone through he should recall anything, for he was nearly dying when we came ash.o.r.e, as I have told.
"But I am Grim"s son," he said, "for all this, and never shall I forget it. By right of life saved, and by right of upbringing, am I his, and by right of brotherhood to his sons. Gunnar, who was my father, would have me say this, if I am like him, as Mord tells me I am."
Then he looked at us in brotherly wise, as if we would maybe not allow that claim now; but there needed naught to be said between us when he met our eyes. He was Grim"s son indeed to us, and we his younger brothers for all the days that were to come.
"One thing there is that makes me glad," he said, "and that is because I may now be held worthy of this sweet bride of mine so strangely given, as indeed I fear that I am not. Men will say that she has done no wrong in wedding me; and for all that Alsi may say, it will be believed that she knew well whom she was wedding. There will be no blame to her."
That seemed to be all his thought of the matter now, and it was like him. Then he went back to his princess, and we spurred on to Grimsby, and set all to work, that the greeting might be all that we could make it.
And so, when those two rode into our garth, and the gates were closed after them, we reined our horses round them, and drew our swords, and cried the ancient greeting with one mighty shout:
"Skoal to Havelok Gunnarsson -- Skoal to Goldberga, Havelok"s wife! Skoal! Yours we are, and for you we will die! Skoal!"
CHAPTER XVIII. JARL SIGURD OF DENMARK.
Now one would like to tell of quiet days at Grimsby; but they were not to be. Three days after Havelok"s homecoming we were on the "swan"s path," and heading for Denmark, with the soft south wind of high summer speeding us on the way. And I will tell how that came about, for else it may seem strange that Havelok did not see to the rights of his wife first of all.
That was his first thought, in truth, and we brothers planned many ways of getting to work for her, for it was certain that Alsi would be on his guard. And on the next day came a man from Lincoln to seek Berthun, with news. That good friend had done what none of us had been able to manage, for he had told the merchant, his friend, to bide in the hall and hear what went on, and then to let him know all else that seemed needful that we should hear. Now he had learned all from the words of Griffin and Alsi, who took no care in their speech, thinking that none in the hall knew the Welsh tongue that they used.
It being the business of a merchant to know that of every place where he trades, and he travelling widely, there was no difficulty to him, and mightily he enjoyed the sport. Then he sent off straightway to us; and now it was plain that we were in danger -- not at once, maybe, but ere long. Griffin would hear sooner or later that his quarry was in Grimsby after all. So we went to our good old friend, Witlaf of Stallingborough, and told him all.
"Why," he said, "I will have no Welsh outsiders harrying my friends. Light up your beacon if he comes, and shut your gates in his face, and I and the housecarls will take him in the rear, and he will not wait here long. I have not had a fight for these twenty years or so, and it does me good to think of one."
So we thought that there was little fear of the Welshman.