The Last of the Vikings Part 41

Should I have my trusty sword?"

"No, my lord, you would need no sword there, for hatred, oppression, and wrong, are unknown in heaven."

"Will ye be my bride then, Ethel?"

"They neither marry, nor are given in marriage, my lord."

"Should I be near _you_, Ethel, always?"

"I should like to be near you, if I may, my lord."

"Ah, then I would like to go to the Christian's heaven if I might be near _you_. There will be no Normans there, will there, Ethel?"

"Yes, my lord, I hope there will be Normans there also."

"Norman's there! Ah! that would spoil it, Ethel. What would a Skald like me do with my heart on fire with hatred of these Normans? It will not do, Ethel! It will not do! The Christian's heaven will not do for the Viking!"

"But our G.o.d will give you a new heart. He takes our heart of stone and gives us a heart of flesh, so that we _love_ our enemies."

Sigurd responded with a deep groan. "But Ethel, girl, what madness is this? I should not be a Viking! what should I be, then? Should I wear silks, and strut about in feathers and fringeing and be a flabby courtezan? If so, I think I would prefer the Viking's Valhalla, after all; it suits the Viking best. Why won't ye go with _me_, Ethel, girl?

Let the Norman and the slaves of Saxons have their heaven. Perhaps ye think I should drag ye over the wild hills, or through the greenwood; but I would be gentle to ye. Ye little know how I love ye, Ethel."

"My lord, your mind is very dark; I will send a priest who will instruct you in these things."

"I want never a priest, Ethel; ye can tell me best. Do ye know, Ethel, the old priest Olaf is dead? What evils have befallen our race! I fear ye prophesy rightly; the end is indeed come."

"I have no news, my lord; but I expected this."

"Yes, he is dead; he would drag his crazy limbs after us in our last struggle with the Normans; he said the G.o.ds would protect him, for he had a charmed life, and that they would fight for us and give us the victory; but we were outnumbered, my followers were all slain to a man; but the Normans were also, for I cut down the last of them. Olaf, our old priest, was also hacked to death by the enemy."

"He was the last priest of the old heathen line, and he will have no successor. The old heathenism is gone for ever, my lord."

Sigurd groaned deeply, and called in frantic tones upon the spirits of Valhalla. "Odin! Norseman's G.o.d! Can't ye help us in this pinch? can't ye help us, I say?" Then with a deep groan he sank back in complete exhaustion.

"Calm yourself, my lord, or I must leave you," said Ethel. "But Sigurd heard her not, his eyes were closed and he was evidently spent. With a feverish start, however, he opened his eyes again, and sought eagerly for the loved form of Ethel.

"Ah, I thought ye had left me. The end has come, Ethel; I shall not get well again, but I have one request; let me be buried near the _sea_, for I know the Vikings will come again, and I'll hear their shouts of victory and the shock of their onslaught; and, Ethel, let me be _mound laid_, mound laid, mark me, Ethel! then they'll know 'tis a Viking chief's grave, and the Skalds will sing of my exploits. Ethel, have my sword also laid under my head, ready, my trusty sword 'Tyrfing,'

(foe-hater), we must not be parted. It's very dark, Ethel." Slowly his eyes closed, and for a little while he lay quiet; then he started up and shouted. "Down with the Normans! Ho, men! carry me out of the cave; I cannot breathe here." After this fashion for a little while the fitful struggle continued, and then in quietness the contest ended; and the last of the Vikings closed his eyes with the loved form of Ethel bending over him.

CHAPTER XLV.

SUNSHINE HAS ITS SHADOWS.

"Man's love is of a man's life a thing apart, 'Tis woman's whole existence."

Byron.

We must now make an end for the present of our extracts from these somewhat interesting chronicles. Sigurd, when we last saw him, was lying in the arms of death, overborne by many wounds and hard circ.u.mstances.

He closed life's fitful career, clasping tightly the hand of Ethel; and his great wish anent his burial was conscientiously carried out by her.

Saxon hands bore him by stealthy night-marches to a silent spot where the fierce North Sea waves break upon the lonely Fen-country sh.o.r.e. They dug for him a grave overlooking a wind-sheltered bay, where ofttimes the Viking rovers had anch.o.r.ed their vessels of war, and from thence burst like an avalanche over the country, sweeping it bare of its cattle and its treasures. They dug deep his grave and laid his trusty sword beneath his head; and Ethel was there--a sincere mourner at his burial. Then they heaped the mound high, as Vikings were wont to bury their chiefs, and as Sigurd wished it. Now, silently he awaits the great awakening, and not without hope; for, according to his light, he had a great ideal, and with rare courage, unselfishness, and devotion he struggled to accomplish what was beyond him, and that which the march of the ages had decreed should come to an end, but which should never be forgotten so long as men long to know what races were the important factors in the history-making peoples of the world.

It is scarcely necessary to say that Oswald's being received into favour by the king, had a most beneficial effect upon the Saxon portion of the population; and it did much to mitigate the rigours of that race ascendency which the Normans strove to maintain. Our part of the country began gradually to a.s.sume the wonted appearance of cultivation it had worn prior to the troublous times of the Conquest. The lazy and overbearing manners of the conquerors received a salutary check, and Norman men-at-arms gradually settled down to peaceful occupations.

Wulfhere, the stalwart freeman, resumed possession of his ancient patrimony, and in company of his charming little wife, Jeannette, was more than content. Soon there began to play about his doors stout-limbed youngsters, who, for enterprise and daring, bid fair to contribute vigorously to the perpetuation of the stalwart race of _freemen_, which had been such an important factor in English history for many generations prior to the Norman Conquest.

The only other incident we need mention happened many years after the events recorded in these pages.

One bright autumnal day, several of the children of Oswald were at play in the woods near the castle, alternating their play by gathering the walnuts and chestnuts which had fallen from the trees, or pelting the squirrels as they leaped from tree to tree overhead, happy as only children can be, when surrounded by bounteous and beautiful nature.

Suddenly there emerged from the thicket a woman, in the habiliments worn by those who had renounced the world and devoted their lives to the service of the church. The children were somewhat startled at the advent of this strange figure; but her sweet face and winning smile completely rea.s.sured them. She went up to the eldest boy and asked him his name.

"Oswald" was the reply. Then she took from her neck a beautiful crucifix of gold, chastely and tastefully engraved, and to which was attached a gold chain. This chain she put around his neck, depositing the crucifix in his bosom. Then she removed his cap from his head, displaying a profusion of curly locks, saying as she did so, "G.o.d bless thee, my son!" Next she turned to the other children, inquiring their names, and kissing and blessing them also. This done, she turned from them, and stood gazing upon the castle in the distance for a minute or two; then, as abruptly as she came, she disappeared in the wood, and was seen no more. The children hastened home to show to their parents the beautiful crucifix the stranger woman had given them, and to relate the strange incident. Oswald pondered over the matter a long time, but with the strange obtuseness which had marked the whole of his intercourse with the beautiful Saxon, Ethel, he was utterly unable to identify the strange visitant with any one he had known or remembered. A shade of sorrow and sadness pa.s.sed over Alice's face; and a tear trembled on her eyelid, and fell un.o.bserved to the ground. But she hinted not at the personality of the stranger, though she understood the sad mystery, and comprehended the tragedy which had been slowly and painfully enacted through the years, in which a n.o.ble and virtuous woman's love had been crucified.

THE END.