When the queen looked at the guest she knew him as Frithiof, but mentioned not his name. It was the right of a guest to claim hospitality without giving his name, and Frithiof had claimed this guest-right. The horn sounded a shrill blast in the hall and all was still. The hour for vows was coming and the boar was now brought in.
His four knees were bent beneath him on the great silver dish; in his mouth was an apple, and there were wreaths about his neck.
King Ring, his grey locks flowing, arose and straightway now The boar"s head gently touching, he thus declared his vow: "I swear to conquer Frithiof, the champion in war, So help me, Frey and Odin, and likewise mighty Thor."
Then with a smile defiant uprose the stranger tall A look of wrath heroic spread o"er his features all-- He smote with sword the table till through the hall it rang And up from oaken benches the steel-clad warriors sprang.
"And now, Sir King, please listen while I my vow shall tell-- Young Frithiof is my kinsman, and so I know him well; "Gainst all the world I"ll shield him, I give you here in word, So help me now my norn, and likewise my good sword!"
The king laughed at this bold defiance. "Right daring, methinks your speech," he said, "but in the Northland palace all fair words are free." Then turning to the queen he bade her fill a horn of wine, the very best. "I hope that he"ll remain our guest through the winter," he concluded.
The queen then took the great goblet and filled it with wine. With trembling hand she gave it to the guest. He accepted the horn with a bow of reverence and drank the wine at a draught in honour of the fair queen who gave it.
Then the skald, the singer of the royal court, touched the strings of his harp and sang a song of love and glory. As he sang he moved the warriors" hearts to pity or roused them to anger and revenge at his will. Such is the wonderful power of music and poetry. He sang of the home in Valhal, where brave heroes go after death, and all hearts were filled with a desire to be brave and n.o.ble that they might deserve a place in heaven when their work on earth was finished.
So with mirth and song, with stories of the great heroes of their race, King Ring and his court kept the merry Yule-tide in his castle.
The Ride on the Ice
King Ring had set forth a banquet for his queen in a palace far over the lake. The ice on the lake was glistening in the sun, and the king ordered his sleigh and his swiftest horse.
"Do not go on the ice," urged the stranger; "it may break, and the water below is deep and cold." Then the old king laughed. "A king,"
said he, "is not easily drowned. If any one is afraid let him go round!"
The scornful laugh of the king angered the bold stranger, and he frowned. Soon, however, he bound his good skates to his feet. The servants meantime had brought out the sleigh-horse, strong and free, and his nostrils flamed as he breathed the bright, cold air.
"On," cried the king; "on, my brave steed and show if you are of famed Sleipner"s brood!"
[Ill.u.s.tration: King Ring"s Sleigh]
As swift was his speed as a storm at sea. The queen grew fearful as the mighty steed flew on, but the king had no fear and paid no heed to the queen"s cries.
The stranger skated, now fast, now slow, pa.s.sing Ingeborg and the king whenever he wished. He made letters and figures on the sparkling ice, writing often the name of the queen. Onward swiftly they glided across the lake, but the treacherous ice-maidens were hiding below. Suddenly they made a hole in the silvery ice and caught the sleigh of the king with its precious load. The queen turned pale and called for help.
Like a whirlwind came the skater, strong and brave.
He buried his skate in the ice and clasped the flowing mane of the steed with a grasp of iron. With one strong swing of his arm he brought horse and sleigh to the firm ice.
"Well done!" said King Ring; "that was a n.o.ble stroke. Not Frithiof, the strong, could have done better!"
Then they all returned to the palace, rejoicing in the safety of the good king and queen.
In the Forest
Through the long winter the stranger remained at the court of the king.
The time pa.s.sed merrily in skating, sleighing, and in other manly sports. In the evening all gathered in the great hall and listened to the songs of the skalds or related the deeds of heroes.
The coming of spring rejoiced all hearts. The songs of the birds, the new leaves on the trees, the warmer rays of the sun, all gave joy to those who had pa.s.sed through the long cold winter. The ice-bound rivulets melted and ran merrily to the ocean; the buds began to unfold, and the earth seemed born anew, filled with love and hope and courage.
The king had planned a great hunt for the court. Men and women, courtiers and servants, awaited the signal to start. The steeds impatiently pawed the ground; the clanging of bows and the rattling of quivers were heard on every side. The hooded falcons, eager to escape, uttered wild shrieks that echoed on the hills. At last the queen appeared, like a star in the spring"s clear sky, and the hunting troop was ready.
Hark! through hills and valleys sounds the horn! The falcon, loosened, flies straight up into the heaven"s blue, and the wild animals of the forest fly in terror to their cavern homes. Off rush the hunters on their eager steeds. The aged king rides no more on the wild hunt, though in years gone by he was one of the best to follow wild game.
Frithiof is with the king, for he, too, does not wish to join the hunters. Sad thoughts trouble him, and he wishes he had never left his beloved boat. On the sea he had no time for brooding over his sad fate, but here, with the king and Ingeborg, he is always remembering happier days.
As the two entered the forest they came upon a lonely place, dark and restful. Here the king halted and said: "See how lovely, fresh, and deep is this forest. Here will I rest me, for I desire to sleep." But Frithiof urged him not to sleep in the dark, damp forest. "Hard and chilly is the ground, O King! Let me take you back to the palace."
"Like the other G.o.ds, Sleep cometh unexpected," said the king; "and here will I sleep."
When Frithiof saw that the king was determined, he took off his mantle and spread it beneath a tree. The king in trusting friendship leaned his head against the stranger"s knee. Soon he slept as the hero sleeps after the battle, or as the infant sleeps cradled in its mother"s arms.
As he slumbered, hark! from the branch of a tree a coal-black bird sings: "Frithiof, now thou mayest slay thine enemy, the old king.
Human eyes do not behold thee!" But a snow-white bird sings: "Though no human eye behold thee, Odin sees and hears each word. Wouldst thou be a coward and slay an old man now defenceless and sleeping! The hero-crown is not won by such a deed."
So sang the birds. Frithiof, s.n.a.t.c.hing up his battle-blade, flung it far from him into the gloomy glade. The black bird flew away into the dark underworld. The snow-white bird, singing sweetly as a harp tone, mounted towards the sun.
Suddenly the old man awoke: "Sleep is sweet beneath a tree, guarded by a brave man"s weapon. But where is your sword? What has parted you who have never before been parted?"
"It is not hard to find a sword," replied Frithiof. "Sharp is its tongue, O King, and it never speaks for peace. I think it is haunted by an evil spirit."
"I have not slept, O youth, but have been proving you. Man or sword a wise man testeth ere in them he can confide. You are Frithiof. I have known it since first you entered my hall," said the old king. "Why did you enter my home in disguise? Honour, Frithiof, sits not nameless, the rude guest of hospitality. We had heard of a Frithiof whom both men and G.o.ds revere. Soon, I thought, will he come against my home with his famous sword, bold and brave. But you came clad in tatters, a beggar"s staff in your hand.
"But cast not down your eyelids. I have proved you and forgiven. I have pitied and forgotten. All life is a struggle, hardest in youth.
You are young and I am old. Soon shall I rest in the grave.
Therefore, O youth, take my kingdom and my queen. Be my son and let us forget our quarrel."
"I came not as a thief," said Frithiof sadly, "but only to see Ingeborg for the last time. Too long have I stayed as your guest. The G.o.ds will not forgive me. Balder the Good loves all mankind but me.
Northland has cast me out, and no more shall I seek for peace on the earth so green and sweet. To ocean"s billows will I go, out upon my good ship far as the stars can guide me and far as the stormy billows can bear me.
"Let me hear the rolling thunder, let me hear the lightning"s voice; When it thunders all around me, Frithiof"s heart will then rejoice Clang of shields and rain of arrows! let the sea the battle fill; Purified, I"ll then fall gladly, reconciled to heaven"s will."
King Ring"s Death
On a lovely day in spring when the rays of the sun seemed more golden than usual, Frithiof entered the hall of King Ring to take leave of his host. The king and Ingeborg his queen sat upon their chairs of state, both pale and sad. Frithiof listened to a song of parting recited by the king"s harper. Then he said: "O king! the billows now bathe my ship, the flying steed, the sea-horse that is longing to leave the sh.o.r.e. Gladly will they follow him who is fleeing from his well-beloved land."
To the queen Frithiof said: "Again I give you this arm-ring, O Ingeborg! Receive it in memory of our youth, and never let it leave you. I go, and never will you see me again. No more shall I behold the smoke rising upward from Northland. For the ocean is my fatherland and shall be my grave."
"Well know I that death is nigh," now said King Ring. "All men must die, and I shall not moan like a coward. No one can by complaining change what the fates have decreed. But if you will stay, my sorrow you will lighten. Take my queen, reign over the land and guard the crown. Long have I reigned in the Northland, loved and respected.
Though I longed for peace, yet have I broken shields in war both by sea and land without turning pale. Vainly have I sought for peace amid slaughter. Now the mild daughter of heaven beckons me hence to Valhal.
"Bring for my drinking The horn with wine flowing; Skoal to thy honour, thou land of my birth!