A Sea Queen's Sailing Part 35

There was a stockade round the hall and its outbuildings which stood to right and left of it. The guest house was to the right, and the bower, which was Gerda's own place, stood on the left, both handsome timber buildings, with high-pitched roofs and carved gables and doorways. The hall itself was like them, but larger, with low, wide eaves that made, as it were, a gallery all round, raised a little from the ground. Daylight showed that every timber that could be seen was carved most wonderfully, but one could not heed that now in the torchlight.

A man stood on guard in the stockade gate, and Gorm the Steward spoke to him, bidding him salute the queen who had returned. He gave one look at Gerda, and tossed his leathern helm in the air, and so fell in with us as we crossed the courtyard to the great door. From the hall came the pleasant sounds of song and laughter from the courtmen within.

Gorm knocked and the doors flew open. The shipmen had been expected to return with him for supper. I saw the whole place as we stood there for the moment in the broad light of the torches on the walls.

We entered at the end of the hall, and right over against us was the high seat, where sat Arnkel and half a dozen other men. There were no ladies with them, and for that I was glad. Two great fires burnt on hearths on either side of the hall, halfway down its length, and at this end sat at their trestle tables the thralls and herdsmen and fishers of the house. Beyond the fires and below the high place were the courtmen on either hand, so that from end to end of the hall ran a clear way for the serving. With them were their wives and daughters here and there, and there were many women with the lesser folk nearer us as we entered. Some were carrying round the ale jugs, and stood still to see us enter.

Asbiorn and his men left us even as the door opened, and went quickly to the rear of the hall. I could see only one other door, and that opened behind the high seat, being meant for the ladies of the house, so that they could pa.s.s to the bower without going down the noisy hall. It led to the open gallery round the building, whence it was but a step to the bower.

Very bright and pleasant it all was, with the light flashing red on the courtmen's arms on the walls behind them, and the glow of the two great pine-log fires on the gay dresses of the women. And Arnkel himself, a big man with long, reddish hair and bristling beard, looked at his ease altogether, as he turned a laughing face to see the guests who came.

There was a little hush as we came out of the shadow of the great doorway, and everyone turned, of course, to see us. Gerda was between Bertric and myself, and for the moment behind Gorm the Steward, who ushered us in with all ceremony. She had her dark cloak over her mail, and the hood of it hid her bright helm, and we two were cloaked also. Behind us was Phelim, and then the men followed. I waited until they were all inside the hall, and then Gorm stepped aside, and Gerda stood forward.

"Ha!" said Arnkel, smiling broadly, "a lady. Welcome to our hall, friends. It may be more to your liking than the sea, so late in the year."

Gerda shook her long cloak from her, and stood before him at the length of the hall, plain to be known, even as he had last set eyes on her.

"Am I welcome, Arnkel?" she said in a cold voice, which had no sign of a quiver in it. "I have come from the sea to which you sent me."

Arnkel's red face went white and ghastly of a sudden, and he sprang back from the table as if he had been smitten. The guests with him stared at us and at him, speechless, for they were Eric's men and knew nothing of Arnkel's ways. But the courtmen rose to their feet with a wild medley of voices, for this thing seemed to them beyond belief for the moment. Round us, amid the lesser folk, was a silence, save for the rustle as they shifted and craned to look at their young mistress. But there was a whisper growing among them.

Now Arnkel came back to the table and set his hands on it, for they shook, and stared at Gerda without finding a word in answer. The courtmen were looking at him now, and her name was pa.s.sing among them in undertones. It was in Arnkel's power to make the best of the return if he would.

"Friends," said Gerda, "yonder man sent me to what he deemed my death in the ship which bore Thorwald to sea. Will you welcome me back, if he will not?"

Then there was a great shout from the men who loved her, and I thought that all was well. But suddenly that shout stilled, for Arnkel's voice came loud over it all.

"Hold, you fools," he cried. "Look at yon armed men. This is a trick of theirs. They have your lady captive, and now will win the place if you suffer them.

"Here, you great warrior, who are you?"

He pointed to me, and the colour was coming back to his face, while his eyes were fierce. He would make one bid for his power yet.

"I am Malcolm of Caithness, the jarl," I answered. "I am the champion of Queen Gerda, whom I and my comrade here saved from the ship in which you would have burned her.

"Listen, Thorwald's men. We took her, well nigh dead, from the chamber where your king was laid. See, what are these arms I wear?

They will prove it, for they came thence, and are her gift."

"Aye," he sneered in a harsh voice, "you took them at the same time you took the girl.

"To your arms, men, and see that these robbers do not escape."

The courtmen sprang at their weapons, and there was uproar enough.

For a moment I could not tell what might come, and my hand was on my sword hilt, though I would not draw the weapon yet. Then came Gerda's clear voice again.

"To me, Gerda's men," she cried, and her sword flashed out. "He lies, and you know it."

Three men led a rush down the hall to us, and one was lame. They were my Caithness men who had escaped from Asbiorn here. After and with them were a dozen older courtmen of Thorwald's. The women screamed and shrank back against the walls of the hall, hiding behind the tables. We had naught to fear from the thralls here, for they were shouting for Gerda.

One of Eric's men leaned over to Arnkel and spoke to him. Then he shook his head and scowled at him, and stood up and raised his hand.

"Here," he said, when a silence fell, "I am a stranger, and it seems to me that there is matter for a fight, unless somewhat is set straight. What is this tale brought up against your lord? I have heard how Thorwald was set to sea in his ship."

Then old Gorm answered in a voice which shook with wrath: "And with him, bound in the funeral chamber, with burning peat piled round it, Arnkel set the Lady Gerda to burn at sea, even as you see her.

But for chance she had never stood in Arnkel's way more. She is Thorwald's heiress."

In the silence which followed Gerda spoke again. Men were doubting yet, and Arnkel's men had no mind to begin a fight which would be fell enough.

"You have said that I am a captive, Arnkel," she said calmly.

"Listen, friends, and say if so I am."

She half turned to me, and took my hand before them all, smiling.

"This is my promised husband," she said proudly, "Jarl Malcolm, who saved me. If I am captive, it is willingly.

"Now, Arnkel, I will let bygones be bygones. It shall be as it was before the day when the ship was set adrift. Only you shall go your way to the king, to be judged by him."

"Fair speech, Arnkel," said Eric's courtier. "Better listen to it.

You have to deal with yon Scots jarl--and I ken the Scotsmen."

He sat down, watching the throng. He would take no hand in the matter, wherein he was wise. But those words of his came to Arnkel as a taunt, and his look at me was terrible.

"Ho, men," he shouted, "will you own an outland lord?"

"Aye, we will," said Gorm the Steward st.u.r.dily. "Sooner than listen to a coward and would-be murderer of women."

That ended the matter. The courtmen yelled, and one or two who tried to get to Arnkel's side were seized and hurled to the ground by the men who cheered for Gerda, and I knew that the day was won.

But I watched Arnkel, for there was somewhat of madness in his look. His hand stole down to the long dirk in his belt, and then clutched it.

Like a flash the keen blade fled across the hall, straight at Gerda as she stood fearless before him, and I was only just in time. I stood on her right, and my left arm caught it. The blade went through the muscles of the forearm, and stayed there, but that was of no account. Gerda's light mail would hardly have stopped it.

She gave a little cry, and I set my arm behind me, smiling. But the men saw and roared, and there was not one on the side of the man who would do so evil a deed. They made a rush for the dais, overturning the tables, and hustling aside Eric's men, who were in their way, else there would have been an end of Arnkel.

Maybe in the long run it had been as well for him, but in the scuffle he opened the door behind him and rushed out. I heard a shout from outside, and then a trampling, and thereafter a silence.

Asbiorn was not far off. Afterwards I found that he had a ladder against the wall, and a man was watching through a high window all that went on, in case we needed help. Whereby it happened that Arnkel ran into his arms.

Some of Asbiorn's men came in as soon as that was done, and the courtmen huddled back at the sight of these newcomers, whose swords were out. Gerda called to them that these were friends, and bade our men sheathe their weapons.

There was quiet then, and Gerda looked round to me. Phelim had taken charge of my arm at once, and the long blade was out, and a scarf, which some girl who had not lost her senses had handed him, was round the wound.

"Not much harm done," he said, smiling at Gerda, who thanked him in words and me with a look.

Now the folk crowded round us with great shouts of welcome, and the men came to thrust forward the hilts of their weapons that she should touch them, in token of homage given and accepted. The women were trying to reach her also, with words of joy and praise. So I took her through them all to the high place, and set her there in Thorwald's chair, and Gorm the Steward pa.s.sed round some word, and came himself with a silver cup full of mead, and set it in her hand, and whispered to her.

Whereon she smiled and rose up, and held the cup high, and cried to her folk: