When Eric was nearly healed of his hurt, the Earl went with all hispeople to a certain island of the Orkneys to gather scat[*] that wasunpaid, and Skallagrim went with him. But Eric did not go, because ofhis hurt, fearing lest the wound should open if he walked overmuch. Thusit came to pass that, except for some women, he was left almost alonewith Swanhild.
[*] Tribute.
Now, when Atli had been gone three days, it chanced on an afternoon thatSwanhild heard how a man from Iceland sought speech with her. She badethem bring him in to where she was alone in her bower, for Eric was notthere, having gone down to the sea to fish.
The man came and she knew him at once for Koll the Half-witted, whohad been her mother Groa's thrall. On his shoulders was the cloak thatOspakar Blacktooth had given him; it was much torn now, and he had aworn and hungry look.
"Whence comest thou, Koll?" she asked, "and what are thy tidings?"
"From Scotland last, lady, where I sat this winter; before that, fromIceland. As for my tidings, they are heavy, if thou hast not heard them.Asmund the Priest is dead, and dead is Unna his wife, poisoned by thymother, Groa, at their marriage-feast. Dead, too, is thy mother, Groa.Bjoern, Asmund's son, shot her with an arrow, and she lies in Goldfosspool."
Now Swanhild hid her face for a while in her hands. Then she lifted itand it was white to see. "Speakest thou truth, fox? If thou liest, thisI swear to thee--thy tongue shall be dragged from thee by the roots!"
"I speak the truth, lady," he answered. But still he spoke not all thetruth, for he said nothing of the part which he had played in the deathsof Asmund and Unna. Then he told her of the manner of their end.
Swanhild listened silently--then said:
"What news of Gudruda, Asmund's daughter? Is she wed?"
"Nay, lady. Folk spoke of her and Ospakar, that was all."
"Hearken, Koll," said Swanhild, "bearing such heavy tidings, canst thounot weight the ship a little more? Eric Brighteyes is here. Canst thounot swear to him that, when thou didst leave Iceland it was said withoutquestion that Gudruda had betrothed herself to Ospakar, and that thewedding-feast was set for this last Yule? Thou hast a hungry look, Koll,and methinks that things have not gone altogether well with thee oflate. Now, if thou canst so charge thy memory, thou shalt lose littleby it. But, if thou canst not, then thou goest hence from Straumey withnever a luck-penny in thy purse, and never a sup to stay thy stomachwith."
Now of all things Koll least desired to be sent from Straumey; for,though Swanhild did not know it, he was sought for on the mainland as athief.
"That I may do, lady," he said, looking at her cunningly. "Now Iremember that Gudruda the Fair charged me with a certain message forEric Brighteyes, if I should chance to see him as I journeyed."
Then Swanhild, Atli's wife, and Koll the Half-witted talked long andearnestly together.
At nightfall Eric came in from his fishing. His heart was light, forthe time drew near when he should sail for home, and he did not think onevil. For now he feared Swanhild no longer, and, no fresh tidings havingcome from Iceland about Ospakar and Gudruda, he had almost put thematter from his mind. On he walked to the hall, limping somewhat fromhis wound, but singing as he came, and bearing his fish slung upon apole.
At the men's door of the hall a woman stood waiting. She told Eric thatthe lady Swanhild would speak with him in her bower. Thither he went andknocked. Getting no answer he knocked again, then entered.
Swanhild sat on a couch. She was weeping, and her hair fell about herface.
"What now, Swanhild?" he said.
She looked up heavily. "Ill news for thee and me, Eric. Koll, who wasmy mother's thrall, has come hither from Iceland, and these arehis tidings: that Asmund is dead, and Unna, thy cousin, Thorod ofGreenfell's daughter, is dead, and my mother Groa is dead also."
"Heavy tidings, truly!" said Eric; "and what of Gudruda, is she alsodead?"
"Nay, Eric she is wed--wed to Ospakar."
Now Eric reeled against the wall, clutching it, and for a space allthings swam round him. "Where is this Koll?" he gasped. "Send me Kollhither."
Presently he came, and Eric questioned him coldly and calmly. But Kollcould lie full well. It is said that in his day there was no one inIceland who could lie so well as Koll the Half-witted. He told Eric howit was said that Gudruda was plighted to Ospakar, and how the match hadbeen agreed on at the Althing in the summer that was gone (and indeedthere had been some such talk), and how that the feast was to be atMiddalhof on last Yule Day.
"Is that all thy tidings?" said Eric. "If so, I give no heed to them:for ever, Koll, I have known thee for a liar!"
"Nay, Eric, it is not all," answered Koll. "As it chanced, two daysbefore the ship in which I sailed was bound, I saw Gudruda the Fair.Then she asked me whither I was going, and I told her that I wouldjourney to London, where men said thou wert, and asked her if she wouldsend a message. Then she alighted from her horse, Blackmane, and spokewith me apart. 'Koll,' she said, 'it well may happen that thou wilt seeEric Brighteyes in London town. Now, if thou seest him, I charge theestraightly tell him this. Tell him that my father is dead, and mybrother Bjoern, who rules in his place, is a hard man, and has ever urgedme on to wed Ospakar, till at last, having no choice, I have consentedto it. And say to Eric that I grieve much and sorely, and that, thoughwe twain should never meet more, yet I shall always hold his memorydear.'"
"It is not like Gudruda to speak thus," said Eric: "she had ever a stoutheart and these are craven words. Koll, I hold that thou liest; and, ifindeed I find it so, I'll wring the head from off thee!"
"Nay, Eric, I lie not. Wherefore should I lie? Hearken: thou hast notheard all my tale. When the lady Gudruda had made an end of speakingshe drew something from her breast and gave it me, saying: 'Give this toEric, in witness of my words.'"
"Show me the token," said Eric.
Now, many years ago, when they were yet boy and girl, it chanced thatEric had given to Gudruda the half of an ancient gold piece that hehad found upon the shore. He had given her half, and half he had kept,wearing it next his heart. But he knew not this, for she feared to tellhim, that Gudruda had lost her half. Nor indeed had she lost it, forSwanhild had taken the love-token and hidden it away. Now she brought itforth for Koll to build his lies upon.
Then Koll drew out the half-piece from a leather purse and passed it tohim. Eric plunged his hand into his breast and found his half. He placedthe two side by side, while Swanhild watched him. Lo! they fitted well.
Then Eric laughed aloud, a hard and bitter laugh. "There will beslaying," he cried, "before all this tale is told. Take thy fee andbegone, thou messenger of ill," and he cast the broken piece at Koll."For once thou hast spoken the truth."
Koll stooped, found the gold and went, leaving Brighteyes and Swanhildface to face.
He hid his brow in his arms and groaned aloud. Softly Swanhild crept upto him--softly she drew his hands away, holding them between her own.
"Heavy tidings, Eric," she said, "heavy tidings for thee and me! She isa murderess who gave me birth and she has slain my own father--my fatherand thy cousin Unna also. Gudruda is a traitress, a traitress fair andfalse. I did ill to be born of such a woman; thou didst ill to put thyfaith in such a woman. Together let us weep, for our woe is equal."
"Ay, let us weep together," Eric answered. "Nay, why should we weep?Together let us be merry, for we know the worst. All words are said--allhopes are sped! Let us be merry, then, for now we have no more tidingsto fear."
"Ay," Swanhild answered, looking on him darkly, "we will be merry andlaugh our sorrows down. Ah! thou foolish Eric, under what unlucky starwast thou born that thou knewest not true from false?" and she calledthe serving-women, bidding them bring food and wine.
Now Eric sat alone with Swanhild in her bower and made pretence to eat.But he could eat little, though he drank deep of the southern wine.Close beside him sat Swanhild, filling his cup. She was wondrous fairthat night, and it seemed to Eric that her eyes gleamed like stars.Swe
etly she spoke also and wisely. She told strange tales and she sangstrange songs, and ever her eyes shone more and more, and ever she creptcloser to him. Eric's brain was afire, though his heart was cold anddead. He laughed loud and mightily, he told great tales of deeds that hehad done, growing boastful in his folly, and still Swanhild's eyes shonemore and more, and still she crept closer, wooing him in many ways.
Now of a sudden Eric thought of his friend, Earl Atli, and his mind grewclear.
"This may not be, Swanhild," he said. "Yet I would that I had loved theefrom the first, and not the false Gudruda: for, with all thy dark ways,at least thou art better than she."
"Thou speakest wisely, Eric," Swanhild answered, though she meant notthat he should go. "The Norns have appointed us an evil fate, givingme as wife to an old man whom I do not love, and thee for a lover to awoman who has betrayed thee. Ah, Eric Brighteyes, thou foolish Eric! whyknewest thou not the false from the true while yet there was time?Now are all words said and all things done--nor can they be undone. Gohence, Eric, ere ill come of it; but, before thou goest, drink one cupof parting, and then farewell."
And she slipped from him and filled the cup, mixing in it a certainlove-portion that she had made ready.
"Give it me that I may swear an oath on it," said Eric.
Swanhild gave him the cup and stood before him, watching him.
"Hearken," he said: "I swear this, that before snow falls again inIceland I will see Ospakar dead at my feet or lie dead at the feet ofOspakar."
"Well spoken, Eric," Swanhild answered. "Now, before thou drinkest,grant me one little boon. It is but a woman's fancy, and thou canstscarce deny me. The years will be long when thou art gone, for from thisnight it is best that we should meet no more, and I would keep somethingof thee to call back thy memory and the memories of our youth when thouhast passed away and I grow old."
"What wouldst have then, Swanhild? I have nothing left to give, exceptWhitefire alone."
"I do not ask Whitefire, Eric, though Whitefire shall kiss the gift. Iask nothing but one tress of that golden hair of thine."
"Once I swore that none should touch my hair again except Gudruda'sself."
"It will grow long, then, Eric, for now Gudruda tends black locks andthinks little on golden. Broken are all oaths."
Eric groaned. "All oaths are broken in sooth," he said. "Have then thywill;" and, loosing the peace-strings, he drew Whitefire from its sheathand gave her the great war-sword.
Swanhild took it by the hilt, and, lifting a tress of Eric's yellowhair, she shore through it deftly with Whitefire's razor-edge, smilingas she shore. With the same war-blade on which Eric and Gudruda hadpledged their troth, did Swanhild cut the locks that Eric had sworn nohand should clip except Gudruda's.
He took back the sword and sheathed it, and, knotting the long tress,Swanhild hid it in her bosom.
"Now drink the cup, Eric," she said--"pledge me and go."
Eric drank to the dregs and cast the cup down, and lo! all thingschanged to him, for his blood was afire, and seas seemed to roll withinhis brain. Only before him stood Swanhild like a shape of light andglory, and he thought that she sang softly over him, always drawingnearer, and that with her came a scent of flowers like the scent of theIceland meads in May.
"All oaths are broken, Eric," she murmured, "all oaths are brokenindeed, and now must new oaths be sworn. For cut is thy golden hair,Brighteyes, and not by Gudruda's hand!"
XX
HOW ERIC WAS NAMED ANEW
Eric dreamed. He dreamed that Gudruda stood by him looking at him withsoft, sad eyes, while with her hand she pointed to his hair, and spake.
"Thou hast done ill, Eric," she seemed to say. "Thou hast done ill todoubt me; and now thou art for ever shamed, for thou hast betrayed Atli,thy friend. Thou hast broken thy oath, and therefore hast thou falleninto this pit; for when Swanhild shore that lock of thine, my watchingSpirit passed, leaving thee to Swanhild and thy fate. Now, I tell theethis: that shame shall lead to shame, and many lives shall pay forfeitfor thy sin, Eric."
Eric awoke, thinking that this was indeed an evil dream which he haddreamed. He woke, and lo! by him was Swanhild, Atli's wife. He lookedupon her beauty, and fear and shame crept into his heart, for now heknew that it was no dream, but he was lost indeed. He looked again atSwanhild, and hatred and loathing of her shook him. She had overcomehim by her arts; that cup was drugged which he had drunk, and he was madwith grief. Yes, she had played upon his woe like a harper on a harp,and now he was ashamed--now he had betrayed his friend who loved him!Had Whitefire been to his hand at that moment, Eric had surely slainhimself. But the great sword was not there, for it hung in Swanhild'sbower. Eric groaned aloud, and Swanhild turned at the sound. But hesprang away and stood over her, cursing her.
"Thou witch!" he cried, "what hast thou done? What didst thou mix inthat cup yestre'en? Thou hast brought me to this that I have betrayedAtli, my friend--Atli, thy lord, who left thee in my keeping!"
He seemed so terrible in his woe and rage that Swanhild shrank from him,and, throwing her hair about her face, peeped at him through its meshesas once she had peeped at Asmund.
"It is like a man," she said, gathering up her courage and her wit;"'tis like a man, having won my love, now to turn upon me and upbraidme. Fie upon thee, Eric! thou hast dealt ill with me to bring me tothis."
Now Eric ceased his raving, and spoke more calmly.
"Well thou knowest the truth, Swanhild," he said.
"Hearken, Eric," she answered. "Let this be secret between us. Atli isold, and methinks that not for long shall he bide here in Straumey.Soon he will die; it is upon my mind that he soon will die, and, beingchildless, his lands and goods pass to me. Then, Eric, thou shalt sit inAtli's hall, and in all honour shall Atli's wife become thy bride."
Eric listened coldly. "I can well believe," he said, "that thou hast itin mind to slay thy lord, for all evil is in thy heart, Swanhild. Nowknow this: that if in honour or dishonour my lips touch that fair faceof thine again, may the limbs rot from thy trunk, and may I lie a logfor ever in the halls of Hela! If ever my eyes of their own will lookagain upon thy beauty, may I go blind and beg my meat from homesteadto homestead! If ever my tongue whisper word of love into thy ears, maydumbness seize it, and may it wither to the root!"
Swanhild heard and sank upon the ground before him, her head bowedalmost to her feet.
"Now, Swanhild, fare thee well," said Eric. "Living or dead, may I neversee thy face again!"
She gazed up through her falling hair; her face was wild and white, andher eyes glowed in it as live embers glow in the ashes of burnt wood.
"We are not so easily parted, Eric," she said. "Not for this came I towitchcraft and to sin. Thou fool! hast thou never heard that, of all thefoes a man may have, none is so terrible as the woman he has scorned?Thou shalt learn this lesson, Eric Brighteyes, Thorgrimur's son: forhere we have but the beginning of the tale. For its end, I will write itin runes of blood."
"Write on," said Eric. "Thou canst do no worse than thou hast done," andhe passed thence.
For a while Swanhild crouched upon the ground, brooding in silence. Thenshe rose, and, throwing up her arms, wept aloud.
"Is it for this that I have sold my soul to the Hell-hag?" she cried."Is it for this that I have become a witch, and sunk so low as I sanklast night--to be scorned, to be hated, to be betrayed? Now Eric willgo to Atli and tell this tale. Nay, there I will be beforehand with him,and with another story--an ancient wile of women truly, but one thatnever yet has failed them, nor ever will. And then for vengeance! I willsee thee dead, Eric, and dead will I see Gudruda at thy side! Afterwardslet darkness come--ay, though the horror rides it! Swift!--I must beswift!"
Eric passed into Swanhild's bower, and, finding Whitefire, bore itthence. On the table was food. He took it. Then, going to the placewhere he was wont to sleep, he armed himself, girding his byrnie on hisbreast and his golden helm upon his head, and taking shield and spearin his hand. Then he pass
ed out. By the men's door he found some womenspreading fish in the sun. Eric greeted them, saying that when the Earlcame back, for he was to come on that morning, he would find him on thesouth-western rocks nigh to where the Gudruda sank. This he begged ofthem to tell Atli, for he desired speech with him.
The women wondered that Brighteyes should go forth thus and fully armed,but, holding that he had some deed to do, they said nothing.
Eric came to the rocks, and there he sat all day long looking on thesea, and grieving so bitterly that he thought his heart would burstwithin him. For of all the days of Eric's life this was the heaviest,except one other only.
But Swanhild, going to her bower, caused Koll the Half-witted to besummoned. To him she spoke long and earnestly, and they made a shamefulplot together. Then she bade Koll watch for Atli's coming and, when hesaw the Earl leave his boats, to run to him and say that she would speakwith him.
After this Swanhild sent a man across the firth to the stead where Hallof Lithdale sat, bidding him to come to her at speed.
When the afternoon grew towards the evening, Koll, watching, saw theboats of Atli draw to the landing-place. Then he went down, and, goingto the Earl, bowed before him:
"What wouldst thou, fellow, and who art thou?" asked Atli.
"I am a man from Iceland; perchance, lord, thou sawest me in Asmund'shall at Middalhof. I am sent here by the Lady Swanhild to say that shedesires speech with thee, and that at once." Then, seeing Skallagrim,Koll fled back to the house, for he feared Skallagrim.