CHAPTER I. HOW LODBROK THE DANE CAME TO REEDHAM.
Elfric, my father, and I stood on our little watch tower atReedham, and looked out over the wide sea mouth of Yare andWaveney, to the old gray walls of the Roman Burgh on the furthershore, and the white gulls cried round us, and the water sparkledin the fresh sea breeze from the north and east, and the brightMay-time sun shone warmly on us, and our hearts went out to the seaand its freedom, so that my father said:
"Once again is the spirit of Hengist stirring in me, and needs mustthat you and I take ship, and go on the swan's path even as ourforefathers went; let us take the good ship somewhere--anywhere tobe on the sea again. What say you, son Wulfric?"
And at that I was very glad, for I had longed for that word of his.For never, since I could remember, was a time when I knew not allthat a boy might learn, for his years, of sea and the seaman'scraft; and the sea drew me, calling me as it were with its manyvoices, even as it drew my father.
Yet, all unlike Hengist and his men, we sailed but for peacefulgain, and very rich grew Elfric, the thane of Reedham; for ours wasthe only ship owned by English folk on all our East Anglian shores,and she brought us wealth year by year, as we sailed to Humber andWash northwards, and Orwell and Thames to the south, as seemed bestfor what merchandise we had for sale or would buy. But, more thanall, my father and I alike sailed for the love of ship and sea,caring little for the gain that came, so long as the salt spray wasover us, and we might hear the hum of the wind in the canvas, orthe steady roll and click of the long oars in the ship's rowlocks,and take our chance of long fights with wind and wave on our stormyNorth Sea coasts.
So we went down to the shipyard, under the lee of Reedham Hill, andfound old Kenulf our pilot, and with him went round our stoutFrisian ship that my father had bought long ago, and at once badehim get ready for sailing as soon as might be. And that was awelcome order to Kenulf and our crew also; for well do the NorthFolk of East Anglia love the sea, if our Saxon kin of the otherkingdoms have forgotten for a while the ways of their forbears.
Not so welcome was our sailing to my mother, who must sit at homelistening to the song of the breezes and the roll of breakers, withher heart stirred to fear for us at every shift of wind and changeof tide. And fair Eadgyth, my sister, beautiful with the clearbeauty of a fair-haired Saxon lady, shared in her fears also,though I think that she believed that no storm could rage morefiercely than her father and brother and their crew could ridethrough in safety. Once she had sailed with us in high summer timeto London, and so she held that she knew well all the ways of theship and sea; fearing them a little, maybe.
Yet there was another dread in the heart of my mother, for this iswhat she said:
"What of the Danes, Elfric, my husband? Surely there is risk--aye,and great risk--of falling into their hands."
Thereat my father laughed easily, and answered:
"Not to an East Anglian ship now; for they have kept the pact wehave made with them. And they watch not our shores for ships, butthe long Frisian and Frankish coasts. There need be no fear ofthem."
So my mother was reassured, and in a fortnight's time we hadgathered a mixed cargo, though no great one; and sailed, with ashift of wind to the southwest, into the Wash, and so put into theking's haven on its southern shore, where we would leave our goodswith a merchant whom we knew.
On the second day after we came the wind shifted to the eastward,and then suddenly to the northeast, and blew a gale, so that webided in the haven till it was over. For though it was not so heavythat we could not have won through it in open water with littleharm, it was of no use risking ship and men on a lee shore fornaught.
Our friend, the merchant, kept us with him gladly, and there weheard the last news of the Danish host, with whom we had made peacetwo years since; for nowadays that news had become of the firstinterest to every man in all England; though not yet in the rightway. For we had not yet learnt that England must be truly one; andso long as he himself was unharmed, little cared an East Anglianwhat befell Mercian or Northumbrian, even as Wessex or Sussex caredfor naught but themselves. Wherefore, all we longed to know wasthat the Danish host was not about to fall on us, being employedelsewhere.
We had found gain rather than hurt by their coming, for we had, asI say, made peace with them, and, moreover, sold them horses. Thenthey had honestly left our coasts, and had gone to York, andthereafter to Nottingham. Now Northumbria was theirs, and Merciawas at their feet. And now again we learnt that they bided in peaceat York, and we were content.
Three days it blew, and then the gale was spent; though the seastill ran high and swift. So we bade farewell to our friend themerchant and set sail, and if the passage homewards was rough, itwas swifter than we had hoped.
So it came to pass that we reached the wide inlet of our haven atthe Yare's mouth too soon for the tide to take us in over the sandswhich grow and shift every year, and must needs drop anchor in theroads and wait, with home in sight, hill and church and housesclear and sharp against the afternoon sky after rain; while past usthe long surges the storm had raised raced in over half-hiddensands, and broke in snow-white foam along the foot of the sanddunes of the shore, sending the spindrift flying up and inland overtheir low crests.
Mostly the boats would have been out to meet us, and maybe to towus in, sparing our crew a little; but today no boat might come, forthe seas were too heavy over the bar, so that it would have beendeath to any man foolish enough to try to reach us; and we lookedfor none. So as the stout ship wallowed and plunged at heranchors--head to wind and sea, and everything, from groaningtimbers to song of wind-curved rigging and creak of swinging yard,seeming to find a voice in answer to the plunge and wash of thewaves, and swirl and patter of flying spray over the high bows--wefound what shelter we might under bulwarks and break of fore deck,and waited.
My father and I sat on the steersman's bench aft, not heeding theshowers of spray that reached us now and then even there, and wewatched the tide rising over the sand banks, and longed for homeand warm fireside, instead of this cold, gray sky and the restlesswaves; though I, at least, was half sorry that the short voyage wasover, dreaming of the next and whither we might turn our ship'sbows again before the summer ended.
My father looked now and then shoreward, and now seaward, judgingwind and tide, and sitting patiently with the wondrous patience ofthe seaman, learnt in years of tide and calm; for he would tell methat sea learning never ends, so that though the sailor seemed tobe idle, he must needs be studying some new turn of his craft ifonly his eyes were noting how things went around him. Yet I thoughthe was silent beyond his wont.
Presently he rose up and paced the deck for a little, and then cameand sat down by me again.
"I am restless, son Wulfric," he said, laughing softly; "and I knownot why."
"For the sake of supper," I answered, "for I am that also, and tideseems mighty slow therefore."
"Nay, supper comes to the patient; but it seems to me that I haveto watch for somewhat."
"Surely for naught but the tide," I answered, not thinking much ofthe matter, but yet wondering a little.
"Not for tide or wind, but for somewhat new, rather--somewhat ofwhich I have a fear.
"But this is foolishness," he said, laughing again at himself, forfew men thought less of signs and forewarnings than he.
Then he looked out again to windward, under his hand, and all of asudden turned sharply to me, pointing and saying:
"But, as I live, hither comes something from the open sea!"
I rose up and looked to where he showed me, and as the ship rose toa great wave, far off I saw a dark speck among white-crestedrollers, that rose and fell, and came ever nearer, more swiftlythan wreckage should.
Now some of the men who clustered under the shelter of the foredeck, with their eyes ever on us, rose up from their places andbegan to look out seaward over the bows through the spray to findout what we watched, and ere long one man called to his mates:
"Ho, comrades,
here comes flotsam from the open sea!"
Slowly the men rose up one by one and looked, clustering round thestem head, and a little talk went round as to what this might be.
"It is a bit of wreck," said one.
"Hardly, for the gale has not been wild enough to wreck a ship inthe open; 'tis maybe lumber washed from a deck," answered another.
"It is a whale--no more or less."
"Nay," said old Kenulf; "it behaves not as a whale, and it comestoo swiftly for wreckage."
"Would it were a dead whale. Then would be profit," said anotherman again, and after that the men were silent for a long while,having said all that could be guessed, and watched the speck thatdrew nearer and nearer, bearing down on us.
At last my father, ever keen of sight, said to me:
"This thing is not at the mercy of wind and wave. Rather has it therise and fall of a boat well handled. Yet whence should one come inthis heavy sea, after three days' gale?"
Even as he spoke, old Kenulf growled, half to himself, that to histhinking this was a boat coming, and handled, moreover, by men whoknew their trade. Thereat some of the men laughed; for it seemed athing impossible, both by reason of the stretch of wild sea that sosmall a craft as this--if it were indeed a boat--must have crossed,and because the sea was surely too heavy to let one live.
Yet in the end we saw that it was a boat, and that in her,moreover, was but one man, whose skill in handling her was morethan ours, and greater than we could deem possible.
Whereupon some of us were afraid, seeing how wondrously the tinycraft came through the swift seas, and a man called out, givingvoice to our fears:
"Surely yon man is a Finn and the wizard who has raised this stormto drown us; now are we lost!"
And I--who had listened eagerly to all the wild stories of theseamen, since first I was old enough to wander curiously over theships from overseas that put into our haven on their way up thegreat rivers to Norwich, or Beccles, or other towns--knew that theFinns have powers more than mortal (though how or whence I knownot) over wind and sea, often using their power to the hurt ofothers, and so looked to see the lines of a great squall, drawn asit were astern of the wizard's boat, whitening as it rushed upon usto sink us in sight of home.
But old Kenulf cried out on the man, saying:
"Rather is it one of the holy saints, and maybe the blessed Peterthe fisherman himself," and he bared his gray head, crossinghimself, as he looked eagerly to catch sight of the glory of lightround the seafarer; and that rebuked my fears a little.
But squall or crown of light was there none. Only the brown waves,foam crested, which we feared not, and the gray light of theclouded sun that was nigh to setting.
My father heeded naught of this, but watched the boat, onlywondering at the marvellous skill of her steersman. And when theboat was so near that it was likely that the eyes of the man wereon us, my father raised his arm in the seaman's silent greeting,and I thought that the boatman returned the salute.
Now the course that the boat was holding when that signal passedwould have taken her wide of us by half a cable's length, but shewas yet so far distant that but a little change would bring her tous. Some sort of sail she seemed to have, but it was very small andlike nothing I had ever seen, though it was enough to drive herswiftly and to give her steering way before the wind. Until myfather signed to him the man seemed to have no wish to near ourship, going on straight to what would be certain destruction amidthe great breakers on our largest sand bar, and that made the menmore sure that he was a wizard, and there were white faces enoughamong them.
"Now," said my father to me, "doubtless this is what was put in mymind when I felt I must watch. Had I not seen him, yon man wouldhave been surely lost; for I think he cannot see the breakers fromhis boat," and again he signed to the boatman.
Then from the little craft rose a great, long-winged hawk thatcried and hovered over it for a little, as if loth to leave it; andone man said, shrinking and pale, that it was the wizard's familiarspirit. But the wind caught the bird's long wings and drove it fromthe boat, and swiftly wheeling it must needs make for us, speedingdown the wind with widespread, still pinions.
Then cried aloud that same terrified man:
"It is a sending, and we are done for!" thinking that, as Finnswill, the wizard they deemed him had made his spells light on us inthis visible form. But my father held out his hand, whistling afalconer's call, and the great bird flew to him, and perched on hiswrist, looking bravely at us with its bright eyes as though sure offriendship.
"See!" said my father loudly; "this is a trained bird, and no evilsending; here are the jesses yet on its feet."
And Kenulf and most of the men laughed, asking the superstitiousman if the ship sank deeper, or seas ran higher for its coming.
"Hold you the bird," said my father to me; "see! the boatman makesfor us."
I took the beautiful hawk gladly, for I had never seen its likebefore, and loved nothing better when ashore than falconry, and asI did so I saw that its master had changed the course of his boatand was heading straight for us. Now, too, I could make out thatwhat we had thought a sail was but the floor boarding of the boatreared up against a thwart, and that the man was managing her witha long oar out astern.
The great hawk's sharp talons were like steel on my ungloved wrist,piercing through the woollen sleeve of my jerkin, but I heeded themnot, so taken up was I with watching this man who steered so welland boldly in so poorly fitted a craft. And the boat was, for allthat, most beautiful, and built on such lines as no Saxon boat had.Well we know those wondrous lines now, for they were those of thelongships of the vikings.
Now the men forward began to growl as the boat came on to us, andwhen my father, seeing that the man would seek safety with us, badethose on the fore deck stand by with a line to heave to him as hecame, no man stirred, and they looked foolishly at one another.
Then my father called sharply to Kenulf by name, giving the sameorder, and the old man answered back:
"Bethink you, Thane; it is ill saving a man from the sea to be foeto you hereafter. Let him take his chance."
Thereat my father's brow grew dark, for he hated these evil oldsayings that come from heathen days, and he cried aloud:
"That is not the way of a Christian or a good seaman! Let me comeforward."
And in a moment he was on the fore deck, where the men made hastyway for him. There the long lines were coiled, ready for throwingto the shore folk on our wharf, both fore and aft. My father caughtup one at his feet and stood ready, for now the boat was close onus, and I could see the white set face of her steersman as hewatched for the line he knew was coming, and wherein lay his onlyslender hope of safety.
My father swung his arm and cast. Swift and true fled the coilsfrom his hand--but fell short by two fathoms or less, and the boatswept past our bows, as the men held their breath, watching andashamed.
But I also had caught up the coil from the after deck, fearing lestmy father should not have been in time, while the hawk flutteredand gripped my arm in such wise that at any other time I shouldhave cried out with the pain of the sharp piercing of its talons.Yet it would not leave me.
The boat flew on, but the man had his eyes on me--not lookingvainly for the lost end of the first line among the foam as manyanother man would--and I saw that he was ready.
I threw; and the hawk screamed and clutched, as it lost itsbalance, and beat my face with its great wings, and I could not seefor its fluttering; but the men shouted, and I heard my father'svoice cry "Well done!" Then I made fast the end of the line roundthe main-sheet cleat, for that told me that the man had caught on.
Then the bird was still, and I looked up. I saw the boat passastern as the man made fast the line round the fore thwart, withhis eyes on the wave that came. Then he sprang to the steering oar,and in a moment the boat rounded to on the back of a great wave andwas safe before the crest of the next roller ran hissing past me,to break harmless round her bows.
; Then the man looked up, smiling to me, lifted his hand in greeting,and then straightway laid in the steering oar. Having found abailing bowl in the stern sheets, he set to work to clear out thewater that washed about in the bottom of the boat; then he replacedthe floor boards, and all things being shipshape, sat down quicklyin the stern, putting his head into his hands, and there bidedwithout moving, as if worn out and fain to rest for a while.
Now it was like to be a hard matter to get the boat alongside inthat sea, and we must needs wait till the man took in hand to help,so we watched him as he sat thus, wondering mostly at the boat, forit was a marvel to all of us. Sharp were her bows and stern,running up very high, and her high stem post was carved into thelikeness of a swan's neck and head, and the wings seemed to fallaway along the curve of the bows to the carved gunwale, that was asif feathered, and at last the stern post rose and bent like a fanof feathers to finish all. Carved, too, were rowlocks and the endsof the thwarts, and all the feathered work was white and gold abovethe black of the boat's hull. Carved, too, was the baling bowl, andthe loom of the oar was carved in curving lines from rowlockleather to hand. And as I thought of the chances of our losing heras we crossed the bar among the following breakers, I was grieved,and would have asked my father to let us try to get her on deck ifwe could.
But now the man roused, and put his hands to his mouth, hailing usto ask if we would suffer him to come on board, and my fatherhailed him back to bid him do so. Then it would seem that our menwere ashamed, having once disobeyed my father whom they loved, notto finish the work that we had begun, and so, without waiting forthe order, saw to getting the boat up to our quarter, so that itwas but a minute or two before the man leapt on our deck, and theboat was once more astern at the length of her line.
"Thanks, comrades," said the man; "out of Ran's {i} net have youbrought me, and ill fall me if I prove foe to you, as the old sawbodes."
Now as one looked at this storm-beaten wanderer there was no doubtbut that he was surely a prince among men, and I for one marvelledat his look and bearing after what he must have gone through.Drenched and salt crusted were his once rich clothes, tangled anduncared for were his hair and beard, and worn and tired he showedboth in face and body, yet his eyes were bright and his speech wasstrong and free as he swung to the roll of the ship with the stepof a sea king. His speech told us that he was a Dane, for though weof the East Angles had never, even before the coming of the greathost of which I must tell presently, such great difference oftongue between our own and that of Dane and Frisian but that wecould well understand them and speak therein, yet time and distancehave given us a new way of handling our words, as one might say,and a new turn to the tones of our voices. Often had I heard theDanish way of speech on board the ships from over sea in our haven,and had caught it up, as I was wont to try to catch somewhat ofevery tongue that I heard.
So he and we looked at each other for a moment, we wondering at himand he seeking our leader. Nor did he doubt long, taking two stepsto my father, holding out his hand, and again thanking him.
My father grasped the offered hand frankly, and, smiling a little,said:
"Rather should you thank Wulfric, my son, here; for it was his linethat reached you."
"No fault that of yours," answered the Dane; and he turned to mewith the same hearty greeting.
"Now, friend Wulfric, I owe you my life, and therefore from thistime forward my life is for yours, if need be. Nor shall my men bebehind in that matter--that is if I ever see them again," he added,looking quaintly at me, if gravely.
"Surely you shall do so," I said, "if it is in our power."
"I thank you--and it is well. I know coasts where a stranger wouldbe a slave from the moment his foot touched shore. Now tell mewhose ship this is that has given me shelter, and what yourfather's name is, that I may thank you rightly."
"Elfric, the Thane of Reedham, is my father," I said, "Sheriff ofthe East Anglian shore of the North Folk, under Eadmund, our king.And this is his ship, and this himself to whom you have spoken."
"Then, Thane and Thane's son, I, whose life you have saved, amLodbrok, Jarl {ii} of a strip of Jutland coast. And now I have afear on me that I shall do dishonour to the name of Dane, for Ifaint for want of food and can stand no more."
With that he sat down on the bench where I had been, and though hesmiled at us, we could see that his words were true enough, andthat he was bearing bravely what would have overborne most men. Andnow the falcon fluttered from my wrist to his.
Then my father bade me hasten, and I brought ale and meat for thejarl, and set them before him, and soon he was taking that which heneeded; but every now and then he gave to the bird, stroking herruffled feathers, and speaking softly to her.
"Aye, my beauty," he said once, "I did but cast you down wind lestyou should be lost with me. And I would have had you take back thenews that I was lost to my own home."
My father stood and watched the tide, and presently I joined him,for I would not hinder the Dane from his meal by watching him. Ilooked at the beautiful boat astern, tossing lightly on the wavecrests, and saw that she would surely be lost over the bar; so Iasked my father now, as I had meant before, if we might not try toget her on board.
For answer he turned to Lodbrok.
"Set you much store by your boat, Jarl?" he asked him.
"The boat is yours, Thane, or Wulfric's, by all right of salvage.But I would not have her lost, for my sons made her for me thislast winter, carving her, as you see, with their own hands. Gladlywould I see her safe if it might be."
"Then we will try to get her," answered my father; "for there areone or two things that my children have made for me, and I wouldnot lose them for the sake of a little trouble. And, moreover, Ithink your sons have made you the best boat that ever floated!"
"Else had I not been here!" answered the Dane. "They are goodshipwrights."
Then Kenulf and the men set to work, and it was no easy matter tocome by the boat; but it was done at last, and glad was I to seeher safely lashed on deck. Then the time had come, and we up anchorand plunged homewards through the troubled seas of the wide harbourmouth. It was I who steered, as I ever would of late, while theDane stood beside me, stroking his hawk and speaking to it now andthen. And once or twice he looked long and earnestly at thebreakers, knowing now from what he had escaped; and at last he saidto me:
"Many a man, I know, would have rather let me go on than have runthe risk of saving one from the sea. Do you dare go against thesaying?"
"Why not? I may not say that it came not into our minds," Ianswered; "but Christian men will put such ill bodes aside."
"Ah! I had forgotten your new faith," said Lodbrok. "Now from thistime I, for one, have naught to say against it, for I think I oweit somewhat."
And he was silent for a while.
Now my father came aft, and sitting down by the Dane, asked him howhe came to risk sailing in the little boat.
"I know not if you can believe me," answered Lodbrok, "but I willtell you in a few words. I have been blown from off the Jutlandshore and have won through the gale safely. That is all. But it wasby my own fault, for I must needs take the boat and put out to seawith my hawk there to find fresh sport. It seemed to me, forsooth,that a great black-backed gull or fierce skua would give me a fineflight or two. And so it was; but I rowed out too far, and before Ibethought myself, both wind and tide were against me. I hadforgotten how often after calm comes a shift of wind, and it hadbeen over still for an hour or so. Then the gale blew up suddenly.I could have stemmed the tide, as often before; but wind and tideboth were my masters then.
"That was three days and two nights ago. Never thought I to seeanother sunset, for by midday of that first day I broke an oar, andknew that home I could never win; so I made shift with the floorboards, as you saw, for want of canvas. After that there is littleto tell, for it was ever wave after wave, and gray flying cloudsever over me, and at night no rest, but watching white wave crestscoming after me through the dark."<
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"Some of us thought that you were a Finn, at least," said my fatheras the Dane paused.
"Not once or twice only on this voyage have I wished myself a Finn,or at least that I had a Finn's powers," said Lodbrok, laughing;"but there has been no magic about this business save watchfulness,and my sons' good handicraft."
Then I asked the jarl how he called his sons, with a little honestenvy in my heart that I could never hope to equal their skill inthis matter of boat building, wherein I had been wont to take somepride of myself.
"Three sons have I in Jutland, Wulfric, my friend, and they, whenthey hear my story, will hold you dear to them. Ingvar is the eldest,Hubba, the next, and the third, Halfden, is three-and-twenty, and soabout your own age, as I take it, as he is also about your equal inbuild and strength. Yet I would sooner see a ship of mine steered byyou than by him, for he is not your equal in that matter."
Now that praise pleased me well, as it did also my father. For wehold the Danes as first of all peoples in the knowledge of seacraft; and we had seen that this man was a master therein. Butthough at this time I thought of naught but the words of praise,hereafter I was to remember the words that Jarl Lodbrok spoke ofthe way in which these sons of his would hold me when the tale wastold them.
At last we hailed the shore through the creeping dusk, and theshore lines were thrown out. Then were we alongside our staithe{iii}, and Lodbrok the Dane had come to Reedham.
Now it may seem but a little thing that a seafarer should be drivento a strange coast, and be tended there in friendly wise by thosewho saved him from the breakers, for such is a common hap on ourisland shores. Yet, from this day forward, all my life of the timeyet before me was to be moulded by what came of that cast of lineto one in peril. Aye, and there are those who hold that the fate ofour England herself was in hand that day, though it seems to methat that is saying overmuch. Yet one cannot tell, and maybe thosewho will read this story of mine will be able to judge.
What I do know certainly is this, that all which makes my taleworth the telling comes from this beginning.