Chapter XVII: Berse Goes Home

At the door of his house stood Stanvor Slimlegs in a white gown, with the fire of welcome shining in her face. Berse chuckled to himself to see her there, and said to his friend Thord: “That’s a good little girl, mighty fond of me.”

“So she is, then,” says Thord. “Anybody might see that.”

Berse at first had no better comment than a grunt. “There’s one at home might see it and care no more than one fly cares for another that has his legs in the honey-pot.”

“You married her against her will,” Thord told him.

“I’ll get her good-will yet,” Berse said. “I’ve had everything I wanted out of the world so far, and I’m not going to be denied now.” He stopped there; then, just as they were in the court, he said, “She’s as cold as a fish. You might as well make love to a dead woman.”

“If Stangerd is cold,” said Thord, “it is because she is banking her fire. The fire is there.”

Stanvor did not move from the doorway, for she was shy, and always wary in what she showed. She was used to Berse’s plain way, and expected no more than she got.

“One-and-thirty battles now,” she said as Berse came up.

Berse suddenly laughed. “One-and-thirty battles, my pretty one!” and put his arms round her and kissed her mouth. She took that quietly, and freed herself from him without making a fuss. You notice--as Berse noticed--that she took his victory for granted.

He asked her, Where was Stangerd. She told him, In the Bower.

“Does she not know we have come home?”

“I think she does. I am sure she does, because I told her when I saw you coming round the shoulder.”

Berse twinkled, looking at her. “You have a far sight, my child.”

She made no answer to that, and moved away, because Stangerd had come into the hall, and stood looking at Berse and his company.

She had a blue gown and a green scarf over one shoulder and half her bosom. Her eyes were watchful, and brighter blue than her gown; her colour was high, burning on her cheek-bones. Certainly she was the most lovely woman in Iceland. Berse’s courage rose to meet her.

“Well,” she said, “have you killed Cormac?” She spoke sullenly, without curiosity or anxiety; but Berse was very gay and laughed at her.

“I have not, my dear. I am too old a hand for such folly as that. Now shall I tell you in Cormac’s way what I have done?”

She looked at him steadily. “You shall,” she said, “if you can.”

Berse did not lose heart. He lifted his sword Whiting as if it had been the backbone of a harp, and struck upon it with his fingers.

“Listen all-- The battle flame
Flickered from the cloudy dark,
Breathing slaughter; on he came,
Stood within the withied hide;
There the old war-dog stood stark.
Shavening screamed, but Whiting met him:
Whiting fell, but Shavening bit him--
Took his nose off, flung it wide.
Ill to see and ill to bide
When the shard flew off and hit him--
Red blood flowed--the law must hold.
Yet the young man matcht the old.”

Stangerd, whose colour was very hot now, said, “That is bad poetry, if ever I heard it, but it shows you a generous man.”

Berse laughed. “Sweetheart,” he said, “I should like to please you if I could. I tell you he made a good match. A fine fighter. A champion.”

She said, “You do please me by such dealing.”

He put his arm round her. “You have never said a kinder thing to me. You make me a generous man by treating me so.”

Stanvor Slimlegs watched them from a corner of the room.

Stangerd drew away, but not roughly. Her eyes were full of thought.

Afterwards she and Stanvor served the men in the hall, and once, as she stood over Berse to pour into his horn, she put her hand on his shoulder and left it there for a while. Berse said nothing and did nothing except twitch his face and blink his eyes; but he did not stay very long in the hall. That night she was kinder to him than she had ever been since he had married her; and by and by he told her so.

She sighed and turned away. “You are easily satisfied,” she said.

Little Stanvor, lying awake, was full of thought. “He is a wonderful man to have brought her round. Now he will be happy. He can’t bear to have glum looks about him. He might have four women here instead of two. His heart is large enough for them all.”

In the morning her sharp eyes saw confirmation. Stangerd was very sedate, but her eyes were not haggard; nor was she peevish. Berse was full of his jokes and mischievous tricks. He played with Stanvor and made Stangerd jealous. Then he made friends with Stangerd against her will. She would not look at him, but she listened to him, and in spite of herself laughed at what he whispered in her ear, and let him kiss her. There was no more talk of Cormac; and when Berse brought out Whiting from his scabbard and showed him to the two girls with his ragged square end where the point had been sliced off by Shavening, Stanvor, looking guardedly askance, saw that Stangerd’s eyes were very bright. She said nothing--but it was she herself who turned the grindstone when Berse repointed the blade.

Then she began to do little offices for Berse, which Stanvor had always done before. She used to come to the door to wait for him, and find Stanvor there. After a few days of that, Stanvor gave up going there; but she watched for him out of the window of the hall. She fancied sometimes that Stangerd might really be jealous, but would be too proud to show it. That made her very careful. She told herself that she would be showing her love for Berse a very shabby thing if she stood in the way of what his heart was set upon. He was making progress with Stangerd, it was very clear. He used to discuss that with Stanvor whenever he found himself alone with her. He would say, “The proud girl laughed at me this morning. She has a kindness for me, you know, child.”

Stanvor would say, “Be sure she has. I have noticed her.”

Once Stanvor told him things which she had found out. “Stangerd was very restless because you were so late home,” she told him.

“Was she indeed, child?”

“Yes. She couldn’t settle to anything. She asked me three times to tell her who would be at the horse-fighting, and afterwards at Thord’s house.”

Berse twinkled, and rubbed his chin. “She thought there might be women there.”

Stanvor did not answer at first. Presently she said, “She asked me if I thought there would be any girls there.”

“And what did you say?”

Stanvor opened her eyes wider. “I said there would not be any.”

“Good!” said Berse. “I like her question, and I like your answer. You are a girl of gold.” He rubbed his hands together. “We are getting on--oh, yes, we are getting on. She’s a beauty--isn’t she now?”

“I think she’s very beautiful,” Stanvor said.

“So she is, then,” said Berse, then looked closely at Stanvor, and then stopped. She had turned her head away, but showed by no other sign that the talk was painful to her. Berse had very kind looks for the young girl, and served her with them very often.

* * * * *

Cormac made no sign until the Spring, nor was the ransom paid. But when the weather opened and the Spring was come there was talk about the Thing at Thorsness where Berse would go and some of Cormac’s friends would certainly be. Berse made sure of being paid there.

When the time came that Berse was to set out for the Thing, Stangerd wished to go with him; but he would not allow her. “No, no, my beauty,” he said. “The Thing is no place for women. It’s rough lodging there, and rough work is done. Besides that, you would meet your old flame there, and I shouldn’t like that now.”

She looked at him steadily. “Is that what you are afraid of?”

“I don’t know that I’m afraid of anything,” he said; “but you’ve taken a liking for me lately which I should be sorry to have disturbed.”

She did not answer him directly. She was always slow to speak. Nobody but Cormac had ever got a confession out of her. She kept her eyes fixed towards the ground. “I should like to go with you,” was all she had to say.

Berse’s face flickered. “It can’t be so, my dear. I am sorry about it. But it would make trouble.”

“No,” she said, “it would not. It would spare trouble.”

“I’ll take all the trouble that comes to me about you,” Berse said. “I told your kindred as much and will be as good as my word. You are worth it.”

She looked at him now. “I don’t often ask you to do a thing for me.”

“My dear,” he said, “that is true. I wish you did.”

“You won’t let me come with you?” She was very insistent. It was plain to Stanvor that she wanted to go, and why she wanted to go. It was plain, also, that Berse misunderstood her. To this last question of hers he shook his head. “That can’t be.”

She turned away. “Have it as you will,” she said, and went away without another word. He thought that she would be sulky with him later on; but she was not. She never opened her heart to him--that was not her way. Yet he felt that she was inclined to him, and said to himself as he went off to sleep: “This is the best of my battles--to have engaged with this stormy heart and to have quelled it.”

When he was ready to go and came to bid her farewell, she clung to him. That touched him, and he stayed with her for a while.

“Speak to me, Stangerd,” he said. “You are a strange girl to be so quiet when I am such a magpie.”

“I can’t talk,” she said; “but you should have let me come. I had a reason.”

“I knew that,” he answered. “Come, now, what was your reason?”

She wouldn’t tell him for some time; but at last she said, “I could have shown that to Cormac which would have made him leave you alone.”

He held her close. “My dear one,” he said, “you make me happy. Now understand that I can take care of myself very well, and that Cormac shall take no harm from me.” Then he kissed her, and she looked at him sadly.

“You should have taken me with you,” she said again. “You will be sorry that you did not.”

“Why, so I shall, sweetheart,” he said with a laugh; “but I shall be the merrier for you when I come back.”

So he went off to the Thing, without a good-bye for Stanvor, who watched him go from the window of the Bower.

The two girls were very guarded with each other while Berse was away. They never once spoke of him.