A Sea Queen's Sailing Part 12

"Thorwald would ask for naught but his arms," she said. "The treasure was mine, for he did but h.o.a.rd to give. I would set him forth as became Odin's champion. He was no gold lover."

"Should it not be, then, as he would have wished?" I said. "Let him pa.s.s to the depths with his war gear, and so through Aegir's halls to the place of Odin, as a warrior, and unburdened with the gold he loved not at all."

She looked sharply at me, and shrank away a little, half turning from me.

"Is the treasure so dear to you men after all?" she asked coldly.

That angered me for the moment, and I felt my face flush red, but I held myself in.

"No," I answered as coldly. "These arms you have given us are all the treasure we need or could ask. They are a warrior's treasure, and mayhap we hold them as dear as did Thorwald. What else may lie in those chests we do not know or care, save only for one reason."

"What is that?" she asked, glancing at me again as if she knew that she had spoken unkindly.

"That if it goes into the sea depths it leaves you, Lady Gerda, helpless. When you were at home, with your folk round you, the h.o.a.rded spoils might be spent in all honour to their winner without thought of why he had kept them thus. Now, in the power they have for you lies your comfort, and maybe the regaining of your home.

Doubtless, the king h.o.a.rded at last for you, and we cannot see your wealth pa.s.s from you without a word to bid you think twice of what you do here and as things are."

"Aye," she said bitterly, "I am helpless--beholden to you three strangers," and she turned away swiftly, going to the gunwale and leaning her arms and head on it as in a storm of grief.

Hard words indeed those seemed; but I knew well enough that they were meant in no unkindness. They came from the depths of her utter loneliness. Only a day or two ago she had been the queen in her little realm, and now--well, I did not wonder at her. Few women in her place would have kept the brave heart she did before us, and this weakness would pa.s.s. But it was a long while before she turned to me again, so that I began to fear that in some way I had set things too bluntly before her, and wished that Dalfin had been sent to manage better in his courtly way. Yet, I had only spoken the truth in the best manner I could. At last she straightened herself, and looked once more at me. There was the light of a wan smile on her face, too, though she had been weeping.

"Forgive me, jarl," she said softly. "I have wronged you and those good friends of ours by my foolish words. Indeed, I hardly knew what I said, for I was hard pressed with the thoughts of what had been. I do believe that you three have not a thought of yourselves in this matter."

She set her hand on my arm pleadingly, and I raised it and kissed it in answer, having no word at all to say. After all, I do not know that any was needed.

"Then I am forgiven?" she said more brightly. "Now, tell me what may be done if I keep the treasure. I must needs hear good reasons."

Good reasons enough there were, and they needed no long setting into words. If she had not enough to raise men and so win back her home from Arnkel, at least there must be sufficient to keep her in comfort in any land until she could find a pa.s.sage back to Norway, and claim guardianship and help from Thorwald's friends. We could and would help her in either way. She heard me to the end, and then sighed a little, and said that I was altogether right.

"Whether aught of these plans may come to pa.s.s is a matter which the Norns {1} have in their hands," she said. "We shall see.

But now I am sure that I may not lightly part with the treasure as I had meant, though it is hard for me to forego what I had set my heart on. It is true that all was h.o.a.rded for me--at least since my father died. It is well that Thorwald never knew the sore need there would be for what he could set by for me."

Then I tried to tell her that all our wish was to lighten the trouble as much as we might, but she stayed me, laughing as if well content.

"Nay; but you shall mind that pact which we made at the first, neither more nor less."

She signed to me to go to the others and set all in readiness for what must be done; but as I bowed and turned to go, she stayed me.

"For us Norse folk," she said, "there is one word needed, perhaps.

I heard my men cry the last farewell to Thorwald as the ship left the sh.o.r.e. The temple rites were long over. All that was due to a son of Odin has been done."

Now, it is needless for me to say that I could not tell all that had pa.s.sed. All I had to say was that Gerda was content with our plan, and all three of us were somewhat more easy in our minds. It had been by no means so certain that she would be so.

Now we made no more delay, but quietly and reverently Bertric showed us how to make all ready for such a sea burial as he had many a time seen before. So it was not long before the old king lay with his feet toward the sea on the fathom of planking which we had lowered from where it was made to unship for a gangway amidships for sh.o.r.e-going and the like. We had set him so that it needed but to raise the inboard end of this planking when the time came that he should pa.s.s from his ship to his last resting in the quiet water; and he was still in all his arms, with his hands clasped on the hilt of his sword beneath the shield which covered his breast, but now shrouded in the new sail of one of his boats in the seaman's way.

At this time the fog was thinning somewhat, and the low sun seemed likely to break through it now and then. It was very still all round us, for there was no sound of ripple at the bows or wash of water alongside, and the swell which lifted us did not break. Only there was the little creaking of the yard and the light beating of the idle sail against the mast as the ship rolled and swung to the swell. Some little draught of wind, or the send of the waves, had set her bows to it, and she rode the water like a sea bird at rest.

Gerda came at a word when all was ready, and stood beside us with clasped hands. And so for a little time we four stood with a s.p.a.ce between us and the head of that rough sea bier, and over against us beyond it the open gangway and the heaving, gray water, which now and then rose slowly and evenly almost to the deck level and again sank away. It was almost as if, when the end had come, that we waited for some signal which there was none to give.

What those two of the other faith had said to one another I do not know; but for a little time they stood with bare, bent heads as in one accord, and I saw them make their holy sign on their b.r.e.a.s.t.s before they moved. Then Bertric signed to me that I should help him lift the inboard end of the planking, and we stepped forward together and bent to do so. Even as my hands touched the wood there came a sudden rushing, and I felt a new lift of the ship, and into the open gangway poured the head of a great, still wave, flooding the deck around our feet, and hiding in its smother of white foam and green water that which lay before us, so that we must needs start back hastily. The ship lurched and righted herself, and the wave was gone. Gone, too, was the old king--without help of ours.

The sea he loved had taken him, drawing him softly to itself with the ebb of the water from the deck, and covering the place alongside, where I had feared for Gerda to see the dull splash and eddy of the end, with a pall of snow-white foam.

For a long moment we stood motionless, half terrified. Neither before this had any sea come on board since we lowered the gunwale nor did any come afterward. Gerda clutched my arm, swaying with the ship, and then she cried in a strange voice:

"It is Aegir! Aegir himself who has taken him!"

That was in my mind also, and no wonder. The happening seemed plainly beyond the natural. I turned to Gerda, fearing lest she should be over terrified, and saw her staring with wide eyes into the mists across that sea grave, wondering; and then of a sudden she pointed, and cried once more:

"Look! what is yonder? Look!"

Then we all saw what she gazed at. As it were about a ship's length from us sailed another ship, tall and shadowy and gray, holding the same course as ourselves, and keeping place with us exactly, rising and falling over the hills of water as we rose and fell. And we could see that she had the same high dragon stem and stern as our ship, and on her decks we could make out forms of men amidships, dim and misty as the ship herself. Yet though we could see her thus, in no wise could we make out the sea on which she rode--so thick was the curling fog everywhere, though the sun was trying to find a way through it, changing its hue from gray to pearly white.

Now, Bertric started from the stillness which held us, and hailed the ship loudly.

"Ahoy! what ship is that?"

The hail rang, and seemed to echo strangely in the fog, but there came no answer. Nor was there any when he hailed again and for the third time. I thought that the outline of the strange sail grew more dim at the first cry, and again that it was plainer, for the mist across the sun drifted, though we could feel no breeze.

"It is Aegir's ship," whispered Gerda, still clinging to me.

"Thorwald is therein," and she raised her hand as if to wave a farewell, hardly knowing what she did.

At that, one of the shadowy forms on the strange deck lifted its arm with the same gesture, and at the same moment. Still no sound came to us, close as the ship must surely be--so close that we might have heard even a foot fall on her deck in the stillness that weighed on us.

Gerda's hand sank to her side, and she swayed against me so that I had to support her hastily, for she was fainting. I do not know what my face was like as I saw that ghostly greeting, but Dalfin's was white and amazed, and he crossed himself, muttering I know not what prayers.

But for all that I heard what was like a half laugh come from Bertric, and he went quickly aft to the sternpost and rested his hand on it for a moment, still watching the ship. And as he went, one of that ghostly crew went also, and stood as he stood, with outstretched arm set on the dim sternpost. Then the fog turned dusky and gray again, and the ship alongside us was gone as it came, suddenly, and in silence, and Bertric came back to us.

Gerda's faintness was pa.s.sing, for she was but overwrought, though she still leaned against me.

"What is it?" she asked. "What does it mean?"

"There is no harm in it, lady," answered Bertric. "I have seen it once or twice before, and naught came thereof."

"It is the ship of ghosts," said Dalfin. "I have heard tell of it.

It comes from the blessed isles which holy Brendan sought."

"Nay," said Gerda; "it is Aegir's ship, and it came for my grandsire."

"Maybe," answered Dalfin. "I ken not who Aegir is of whom you speak. But the ship may indeed have come for Thorwald to take him to some land, like those isles, beyond our ken."

"Aye, to Valhalla," said Gerda. "Take me to my place now, for I am weary, and would be alone. I have no fear of aught more."

I helped her forward, and she thanked me, saying that now she would be at rest in her mind. And, indeed, so were we all, for that penthouse, and its awesome tenant, had weighed on us more than we had cared to say. We would clear the decks of it all in the morning.

All that night long we floated on a windless sea, and the fog hemmed us round until it began to thin and lift with the first rays of the rising sun. But the night had no more visions for me, and with the morning I was fresh and fit for aught, after a great swim in the still water, and breakfast.

Then we set to work and cleared away the penthouse, stowing its heavy timbers beneath the deck along the keel, for they would in some degree take the place of the ballast which the little ship needed. There was some water in her bilge from the great wave, and that we baled out easily, but she was well framed and almost new.

It was good to see the run of the decks clear again from that unhandy barrier.

I think that Gerda waited till all was gone, and we were wondering how best to stow all the goods which lumbered the deck. Then she came to us, looking brighter and content, with words of good morrow in all comradeship, which were pleasant to hear, and so stood and looked at the things we were busied with.