The Last of the Vikings Part 37

"My lord," said Ethel placing herself before him, "what madness is this that you purpose? Put up that sword, and mark me well! if any evil befall him, and if you dare to injure him or his bride, either now or henceforth, you make of me a mortal enemy, and I will not rest until your crime be punished."

"Ethel, 'tis ye are mad! or else your love at sight of this would be turned to mortal hatred! Would I had not met you this day, then would I have wiped out this stain from the Saxon race."

The power wielded by this beautiful Saxon woman over this untamed warrior was unbounded, and bore eloquent testimony to the depth and purity of his love for her; for without another word of remonstrance he sheathed his sword, and strode away into the depths of the forest.

Then Ethel pursued her journey, following the bridal party into the chapel, and sitting down, quite unnoticed, amid a motley throng of peasant women and Saxon churls, who had gathered to witness the nuptials. The marriage ceremony was designed to be carried out with great privacy, nevertheless there were a few Normans of note gathered there to witness it. There were also some Saxons, who had claim to honoured names and substantial estates, were it not for the greed of these usurpers; but most of these were now at best but fief-holders of their conquerors, and with cowed and brow-beaten looks, they were content to herd with their still more degraded countrymen.

It was manifest to any careful observer also that, amid the few Normans gathered, there was great disapprobation of the rite about to be celebrated; and as the tall muscular Saxon, who had maintained his independence and defied them all, advanced to the altar, they could not forget that the glamour of this man's name had given heart to the Saxons, and that, on innumerable occasions, he had vigorously interposed himself between these tyrants and the objects of their tyranny. To see him now standing side by side with one of the n.o.blest, and one of the most beautiful of their race, was to them bitter as gall. And I could hear distinctly ominous muttering, and the handling of weapons. This, I must confess, was what I had dreaded, and others also, I found, had foreseen it; for at that moment Wulfhere and a st.u.r.dy band of Saxons, armed to the teeth, entered the chapel, and boldly took their stand near to the bridal party. At this the exasperation of the Normans was increased, but nevertheless they were distinctly overawed by it, and no further demonstrations of disapproval were made.

Ere the marriage ceremony was completed, and as the monks chaunted the Benedicite, Ethel glided noiselessly from her place in the chapel, and hurried from the grounds. As soon as she was clear of them she turned into an unfrequented path, which led to the heart of the forest. Sigurd had been secreted near, watching for her return, and immediately she was obscured from the gaze of others he joined her.

"Has this Saxon traitor completed his dishonour, by wedding a daughter of the Norman tyrant?" said he.

"Oswald has wedded the fair Norman, and I bestow my blessing on them, for 'tis the herald of peace to our downtrodden race, and an augury of the coming union of our people and the Norman."

"My curses on him and the coward brood of Saxons, who have betrayed their country and, by their submission to the tyrant usurper, have helped to rivet the fetters of bondage upon our race for generations to come!"

"My lord, this is most distasteful to me. I will hear no more of it. You are utterly incapable of understanding them or their motives, it is plain; so desist, once for all, from your unreasoning hatred."

"Whither go ye now, Ethel? and may I go with ye?" said Sigurd humbly.

"I am bound for the Monastery of Crowland, my lord."

"_Monastery of Crowland! Never say it, girl!_ What do ye mean? Ye cannot go _there_, Ethel! _Say ye will not go there, Ethel!_" he shrieked, in agonised tones.

"It is quite true, my lord," said Ethel firmly.

"It cannot be, Ethel! Ye' cannot leave us thus! We are undone if ye leave us! Say ye will not go to Crowland! _anywhere but there!_ I thought ye would now forget my fierce and boorish habits, and be my wife. Oswald is wedded, and ye cannot be his. What hinders ye from being my wife? I will be anything ye ask of me, Ethel! I am quite broken now; my spirit is broken. I will make my peace with the Normans, and wear a serf's collar, and let them _whip me, cuff me--anything_! only say ye will not leave me," he pleaded piteously.

"Alas! my lord, that can never be! My love is dead, and will never more have resurrection in this world. I have no capacity for a new affection.

A maiden's heart can be won but once. Do not importune me, my lord, further. The end has come; 'tis a new epoch, and in it there is no place for you and me, and 'tis best we should quietly vanish from the scene."

"Is there no _hope_, Ethel, that ye will be my bride? Ye'll maybe change some day. I can wait twenty years, if ye bid me."

"There is no hope, my lord. There can be but one other change for me, and that will be when I don the cerements of the tomb."

"_No hope, Ethel? No hope?_" he slowly and painfully e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, as though each word was a dagger thrust at his heart. "Then I am lost!"

Slowly he drew himself up, expanded his broad chest, and threw abroad his brawny arms, as though about to grapple with an enemy.

"Then," said he, "I'll have a sweet revenge on the Norman foe. I'll give my blood again to the soil I love so well, and get me a warrior's grave.

Then, welcome Valhalla! Odin! Odin! Norseman's G.o.d!" he cried; "I am coming soon to join the hero spirits, awaiting me in the land beyond the dark and troubled sea."

His head drooped upon his chest, and he covered his face with his hands, whilst his whole frame quivered with emotion. It was the cry of a blind faith, but it was the cry of the soul, and it grappled him to the loving heart of infinite mercy.

Ethel trembled violently at the bitterness of soul displayed by this n.o.ble Viking, and the unbidden tears coursed down her cheeks in sympathy with his sorrow.

"Adieu, my lord! May G.o.d have mercy upon you," she said in broken and tender accents.

"Nay, Ethel! I'll go with you, I would like to see the door close upon you safe, if it must be. 'Tis not fitting ye should take this journey alone. These Norman dogs are abroad everywhere, and 'tis full of peril for ye to journey alone; they will not respect ye as I do. These Normans have no respect for such as you."

"I am sorry to say I cannot permit this, my lord. It would be both at your peril and my own. Do you not know what a heavy price these Normans have put upon your head?"

"Ah! they have made me a wolfshead truly, but they have not done with me yet, Ethel; not done with me, they will find! Broken in spirit, as I am, I do not fear them; nor do I care what price they have put upon my head.

I have nothing to live for, but I will _die like a Viking_. If it will be a peril to you if I go with you, well, let it be so; but 'tis bitter parting, Ethel."

"Do not fear on my account, my lord. The Abbot Adhelm has made arrangement for two of the monks to bear me company; and their sacred office and my vow will protect both them and myself from the violence of the Normans."

"Shall I never see ye more, Ethel? _Never more?_ Won't ye come _sometimes_ just to have a look at the _old hills_ again? and I'll meet ye, and we'll see how the world fares with you and me. Promise me ye'll come sometimes, Ethel, and let me look upon your sweet face. I've nought to live for but you!"

Ethel was deeply moved at Sigurd's importunity, but she said,--

"My lord, I cannot hope to meet you any more on earth; but I will venture to hope and pray that, when our G.o.d, who is a G.o.d infinite in mercy and compa.s.sion, shall strike the balance betwixt right and wrong, between high ideals and a grovelling ambition--in short, when He shall 'judge the world in righteousness,' He will find that the recording angel has made many an entry to your account, and blurred out many a fault with his tears; and that after all it will be found that your erring but st.u.r.dy virtues outweigh by far your many faults, and the limitations of your life. Then we shall meet again beyond the grave, where we shall see eye to eye, and 'where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest.' Once more adieu, my lord!" So saying, she sped on her way.

Sigurd stood silently watching her retreating form until she disappeared from view, and for several minutes he still stood gazing after her like one bereft, whilst his ma.s.sive frame was shaken with powerful emotions.

Then slowly he muttered to himself: "The sun is set upon all my hopes; my day is done, and all is lost, save love of country and revenge. I cannot, like this Oswald, bend and crouch. A Viking once a Viking for ever." Then, turning round, he crashed into the forest.

CHAPTER XLII.

VIKINGS ALL! AN OLD TIME SAGA.

"Sonorous metal, blowing martial sounds; At which the universal host upsent A shout, that tore h.e.l.l's concave, and beyond Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night."

Milton.

Not many months after the foregoing, Sigurd, followed by a score of his wild Vikings, sought the cave of the priest Olaf, and they received of the old priest a very hearty but a very grim welcome.

"Welcome, Jarl! welcome, skalds! all of ye. Ye are the bonniest warriors I have seen for many a day," he croaked. Truly the sunken eyes of the gnarled old Viking sparkled with strange delight, at the sight of so many hardy-looking warriors. He went round to every man of them, and felt severally the stoutness of their limbs, examined their weapons, capering gleefully at the old-style weapons he was so familiar with, and grunting and muttering gibberish all the time of his inspection. Such a display of force, unmistakably of the old stock, seemed almost to make him young again; and he mumbled s.n.a.t.c.hes of old time sagas, and weird folk-talk of bygone generations.

Truly they were a desperate, and a desperate-looking band,--wild, daring, and uncouth; having all the instincts of wild beasts,--recking nothing of life, unless it were accompanied by some wild triumph over their enemies, and caring nothing for death; for it meant to them an entrance into Valhalla, the Viking's heaven.

"Priest," said Sigurd, "have ye any message of _forth-telling_ for us?

We are hotly pursued by these foreign dogs; they have hunted us out of our mountain fastnesses, and now they tread on our heels closely. They are encamped for the night in a neighbouring valley, and we cannot shake them off, for they are tracking us with sleuthhounds. Shall we give them battle to-night? Our stomachs are empty, and we shall be sore pressed on the morrow."

"Skalds, tarry ye here a little while and eat, and I will inquire for ye. Skuld is our friend, and he rules all _man slaying_. He will hear me this night, and if he ride with you to battle, woe will be to these Normans--ye shall sweep them before ye. We will set up the _Skaldstong_[7] also, presently, and invoke our ancient G.o.d Odin, that he may send his '_Maidens of Victory_,' the '_Valkyrias_,' and if they help, what shall hurt ye? Ye shall hurl your enemies to the ground and slay them every one. Come into my cave, the night falls in."

[Footnote 7: Imprecation pole.]

So saying, the old priest led the way into a s.p.a.cious cavern, which opened out from the vast cleft where they stood. To the right of the cave a wood fire was burning low, and along the edge of it there were a number of natural seats, formed by ledges of the rock. Olaf bade his visitors be seated, then he lighted several torches at the fire, and suspended them against the rocky sides of the cave. In their flickering and fitful light the cave presented a very weird appearance. Here and there the white and jagged surfaces of the limestone rock seemed like human figures standing in the shadows, whilst the dark recesses threw them out like sentinels on guard.

Evidently it was a great occasion for the priest Olaf,--his ghostly office had fallen greatly into disuse of late years, to his great grief and chagrin. But troublous times had come, and men, unable to cope with their enemies, came now humbly to him for aid in their dire distress; and as he rambled about the cave, his mumbling, muttering and chanting never ceased. First he ransacked the cave for food for these famishing guests, and whilst they were eating he mended his fire. Then, from a stone coffin in one of the recesses, he fetched the whitened bones of some famous chieftain who had led them in the olden time. These he proceeded to fasten around his neck and body. Next he fetched from another recess a long pole with runes carved upon it. This he erected, and made it to stand by inserting its lower end in a hole evidently prepared for it. This was the "_Skaldstong_" or _Imprecation pole_: its use being to invoke the curses of Odin upon their enemies, and to invoke the help of the "Valkyrias," whom warriors often saw riding on fiery steeds to their help.

All this time Olaf never ceased the horrid chant, or song. Strange gibberish indeed--sometimes running into metric verse, which he chanted in a rude sing-song voice--at other times it was wild imprecations and interjections, which he flung out with frenzied gestures, and in thrilling tones and loud.