Estein sprang on board.
"Push off!" he cried; "we will row along the sh.o.r.e to meet them."
"Well thought of," said Helgi; ""tis lucky we have one cool head with us."
The pursuers at first either failed to see Ketill"s party, or mistook them for their own men, for they continued their headlong rush straight to the water, firing arrows and darts as they ran.
Then they saw the manoeuvre, and turned with loud cries along the sh.o.r.e. The boat had got a start by this time; the rowers bent their backs and made her spring like a live thing, and the still water rose in oily waves from the bow. But fast as they pulled, the men on sh.o.r.e ran faster.
"By all the G.o.ds, we are too late!" cried Helgi.
"They take to the water!" said Estein. "Pull, men, pull! Oh, "tis a night worth living for!"
The four swimmers stoutly struck out for dear life, to a splashing accompaniment of darts and stones.
"By the hammer of Thor! they will be struck as we take them on board," exclaimed Helgi. "Friend Ketill makes a generous mark."
"Round them!" said Estein. "Get between them and the sh.o.r.e."
Grim pressed the tiller hard down, and circling round the swimmers they were presently hauling them in on the sheltered side. Then the crowd on sh.o.r.e set off for their ships. Ketill, dripping with water, and bleeding from an arrow wound on the shoulder, watched them with a grim smile.
"They will find their ships ready for sea," he said.
As he spoke a tongue of flame shot up from one of the long ships, and Estein turned to him in surprise.
"Then you set them on fire?"
"Ay," replied Ketill; "we slew some guards--who thereby learned not to sleep at their posts--and made such holes in the ships as will take them two days to patch. Then I bethought me it were well to have a burning, if it were only of a long ship; so we kindled three great fires, one for each vessel, and if the men of Liot feel cold to-night, it will not be my fault. But have you got Liot?"
"Here he is," said Estein, pointing to the pinioned captive.
Ketill laughed loud and long.
"Estein," he cried, "I ask your pardon. You may be under a spell, but you have given us a merry night"s work. We have earned a long drink."
CHAPTER VII.
THE VERDICT OF THE SWORD.
A shout of congratulation rose from the ship as the boat drew near and the anxious watchers counted the fourteen men returned again with their prisoner. Drink was served round in huge beakers, and the superst.i.tious fears vanished like the fog as they rowed in triumph out of the bay.
They could see behind them the flames and smoke rising ever higher from the burning vessels, and as the ale mounted to their heads they shouted derisive defiance across the water.
"Where shall we go now?" asked Grim.
"Do you know of any uninhabited holm where we could land by daybreak?" said Estein.
"There are many such about the Orkneys; one I know well, which methinks we should reach soon after sunrise. There I shall take you."
Ketill came up at that moment with a great horn of ale, and cried, with a joviality only shown when drink flowed freely,--
"Drink, Estein, drink!--drink to the soul of Liot Skulison, which shall shortly speed to Valhalla. Shall we slay him now, or keep that sport till we have better light to see him die?"
"I have other work on hand than drinking. Liot and I have an account to settle at daybreak."
Ketill stared at him in astonishment.
"You mean then in very truth to fight?" he cried. "Well, do as you wish; but it is a strange spell."
He left the p.o.o.p with his horn, and Estein seated himself on a stool, and leaning back against the bulwarks, tried to rest.
His face was set, his mind made up, and he only waited impatiently for the hour of his trial. Sleep came to him in uneasy s.n.a.t.c.hes, during which he seemed to pa.s.s years of wild adventure, haunted all the time by strangely distorted Oslas. He woke at last to the chill of a grey morning and the roll of a Viking ship. With a little shiver he started to his feet, and began to pace the deck.
Presently Helgi joined him, and laid his hand on his arm.
"Estein," he said, "tempt not your fate too far. Never before have I seen witchcraft such as this. Why should you fear the wrath of the G.o.ds? I tell you, my brother, you are under a spell; let us seek some magician who will cure you, and not rashly look for death when you are wearied with sleepless nights and black magic.
If the wrath of the G.o.ds is really on you, it will fall were you to flee from men and seek refuge in the loneliest cave on all these coasts. I will slay Liot Skulison for you; in fair fight if you will, though I think not he deserves such a chance. Was it a fair fight when he fell on our two ships with his ten?"
"I would slay him, Helgi, like a dog, were it not that something within me bids me ask in this wise the wishes of Odin."
""Tis the voice of yon witch."
"She is no witch, Helgi, only the fairest girl in all the North.
Listen, and I will tell you the story of this spell; but remember it is to you alone I tell it, and never must another know of my shame."
"Have you ever known me betray your trust?"
"Never, Helgi, my brother, or you would not hear this tale. To me it seems the story of six years of my life, though it was scarcely as many weeks; but I shall make it as brief as I may."
"The hour is yet early."
"After the battle, Helgi, I should have been drowned but for that maid you saw. She saved my life, and that at least I owe her. She brought me to the abode of her father, the hermit of the Holy Isle; and there I learned to love her. For six weeks I was no Viking. I forgot my kinsfolk and my country, forgot all but Osla."
"Call you not that a spell?"
"Did you not say yourself that you had known many spells like that, cast on men by maids? It was the magic of love that entangled me."
"Men said the hermit was a wizard."
"No wizard, Helgi, or he had never let me come there. He was a moody and fitful old man. I pleased him with my songs, talked to him of the strange religion he professes--for he is what men call a Christian--and grew in time to think of him as a friend.
(Verily, I think there must have been magic!) All this while I spoke no word of love to Osla, though I think she was not indifferent to me."
"It was easy to see that."
"Twice on that island a voice I could not name warned me from beyond the grave, but I heeded it not. (Can the man have been a wizard?) One night--it was the night you landed, Helgi--I sat alone with the hermit. Something had moved him to talk. I remember now! it was a song I sung myself. He told me a tale of a burning.