Chapter VIII: How We Fared with Ingvar the Dane

We came to the shores of a haven at a river mouth, and there we saw the town clustering round a large hall that rose in the midst of the lesser houses, which were mostly low roofed and clay walled, like that of Raud, though some were better, and built of logs set upon stone foundations. The hall stood on higher ground than the rest of the houses, so that from the gate of the heavy timber stockade that went all round it one could see all the windings of the haven channel and the sea that lay some half mile or more away at its mouth. And all the town had a deep ditch and mound round it, as if there was ever fear of foes from shoreward, for these came down to the haven banks, and the only break they had was where a wharf and the ship garth were. There were several ships housed in their long sheds, as I could see.

All round the great hall and the buildings that belonged to it was a stockade of pointed logs, so that it stood in a wide courtyard on all four sides, and the great gate of the stockade was opposite the timber porch of the hall itself. There were other doors in the side of the hall, but they were high up, and reached by ladders; and there seemed to be only one more gate in the stockade, leading landward, and both were such as might not easily be broken down, when once they were closed and barred with the square logs that stood beside the entrances ready. And all the windows of the hall were very high up and narrow, and the roof was timbered, not thatched.

This was the strongest house that I had ever seen, and I said to Raud as I looked at it:

"This place is built to stand some fierce fighting. What need have you of such strength?"

He laughed, and answered:

"Why, much need indeed! For when the ships are gone a-viking we are weak in men, so needs must have strong walls to keep out all comers from over seas. And we have an ill neighbour or two, who would fain share in our booty. However, men know in Sweden, and Finmark, and Norway also, that it is ill meddling with Jarl Ingvar and his brothers."

We passed through the stockade gate, and went straight to the porch; all the woodwork of which was carved and gaily painted, and so were eaves and rafter ends and tie beams.

Two sturdy axemen stood at the doorway, and they spoke freely to the brothers, asking questions of us and of our tale.

Then roared the voice of Jarl Ingvar from within, bidding the men cease prating and bring us in, and so we entered.

A great fire burnt in the centre of the hall, and the smoke rose up and found its way out under the eaves; and there were skins and heads of wild beasts on the wall, amid which arms and armour hung everywhere, bright in the firelight. Yet the hall, though it was carved on wall, and rafter, and doorway, was not so bright as ours at Reedham, nor so pleasant.

Ingvar and Hubba sat on one side of the fire, where the smoke was driven away from them, and before them was set a long bench where we should be placed. There Hubba bade us sit down, telling the two men to go without and wait.

So we were left face to face with those two, and I saw that Ingvar's face was dark with doubt, but that Hubba seemed less troubled. Yet both looked long and sternly at us.

"Tell us this tale of yours," said Ingvar at last; "and lie not."

Now it seemed to me that it were well to get the worst over at once without beating about beforehand. And now that the jarls knew that Lodbrok was dead, the hardest was to tell them how he died, and why I was here thus.

"Well loved I Lodbrok the Jarl, and well do I love Halfden his son," I said. "Have patience with me while I tell all from the first."

"Go on," said Ingvar, knitting his brows.

"Safely came Jarl Lodbrok to the English shores," I went on; "steering his boat through the storm as I think no other man might. And my father and I, lying at anchor for tide in our coasting ship, took him from the breakers. Some of his craft taught he me, else had I not been here today. So he bided with us until I went to sea, and there I met Halfden, and went on a raid with him, coming back from the South Saxon shores to wait at our place for his coming to take Lodbrok home. But he came not last winter, and so we waited till this spring should bring him. For my ship was lost, and no other came."

"What!" said Ingvar; "he died not of stress of storm, but lived so long! Then he has been slain!" and he half started from his seat in rage.

But Hubba, though his teeth were set, drew him back.

"Hear all," he said.

I went on without bidding, not seeming to note these things.

"The jarl and I hunted together, and the chance of the day parted us, and he was slain; nor can I say by whom. But this man and I, being found with his body, were accused of the deed. And because there was no proof, our great earl, who loves even-handed justice, would have us cast adrift, even as was Lodbrok; that the guilty might suffer, and the innocent escape."

Then Ingvar rose up, white and shaking with wrath, and drew out his sword. Whereon Beorn yelled and fell on the floor, grovelling with uplifted hands and crying for mercy.

But the great jarl paid no heed to him, and hove up the sword with both hands over my head, saying in a hoarse voice:

"Say that you lie--he is not dead--or you slew him!"

Now I think the long struggle with the sea, or my full trust in the earl's words, or both, had taken away my fear of death, for I spoke without moving, though the great blade seemed about to fall, and the fierce Dane's eyes glared on mine.

"It were easy for me to have lied; I would that I did lie, for then Lodbrok would be living, and I beside him, waiting for Halfden my friend even yet."

"Odin!" shouted Ingvar; "you speak truth. Woe is me for my father, and woe to the land that has given him a grave thus foully."

With that he let his sword fall, and his passion having gone, he sat down and put his face in his hands, and wept tears of grief and rage. And I, as I watched him, was fain to weep also, for my thoughts were akin to his.

Now Hubba had sat very still, watching all this, and he kept his feelings better than did his fierce brother, though I might well see that he was moved as deeply. But now he spurned Beorn with his foot, bidding him get up and speak also. But Beorn only grovelled the more, and Hubba spurned him again, turning to me.

"I believe you speak truth," he said quietly, "and you are a brave man. There was no need for you to tell the accusation against yourself; and many are the lies you might have told us about the boat that would have been enough for us. We never thought to hear that our father had outlived the storm."

"I speak truth, Jarl," I said, sadly enough, "and Halfden will come to our haven, seeking us both, and will find neither--only this ill news instead of all we had planned of pleasure."

Then Hubba asked me plainly of Beorn, saying:

"What of this cur?"

"No more than I have told you, Jarl," I said.

"How came he into the forest?" asked Hubba, for he saw that there was more than he knew yet under Beorn's utter terror.

"Let me tell you that story from end to end," I answered.

And he nodded, so that I did so, from the time when I left the jarl until Ulfkytel sentenced us, giving all the words of the witnesses as nearly as I could. Then I said that I would leave them to judge, for I could not.

Now Ingvar, who had sat biting his nails and listening without a word, broke in, questioning me of Halfden's ship for long. At last he said:

"This man tells truth, and I will not harm him. He shall bide here till Halfden comes home, for he tells a plain story, and wears those rings. And he has spoken the ill of himself and little of this craven, who maybe knows more than he will say. I have a mind to find out what he does know," and he looked savagely at Beorn, who was sitting up and rocking himself to and fro, with his eyes looking far away.

"Do what you will with him he will lie," said Hubba.

"I can make him speak truth," said Ingvar grimly.

"What shall be done with this Wulfric?" asked Hubba.

"Let him go with Raud until I have spoken with Beorn," answered Ingvar, "then we shall be sure if he is friend or not."

Hubba nodded, and he and I rose up and went out to the porch, where Raud and Rolf waited with the two guards. We passed them and stood in the courtyard.

"I believe you, Wulfric," said Hubba, "for I know a true man when I see him."

"I thank you, Jarl," I answered him, taking the hand that he offered me.

I looked out over the sea, for the frank kindness moved me, and I would not show it. There was a heavy bank of clouds working up, and the wind came from the north, with a smell of snow in it. Then I saw a great hawk flying inland, and wondered to see it come over sea at this time of year. It flew so that it would pass over the house, and as it came it wheeled a little and called; and then it swept down and came straight towards me, so that I held out my hand and it perched on my wrist.

And lo! it was Lodbrok's gerfalcon; and pleased she was to see me once more, fluttering her wings and glancing at me while I smoothed and spoke to her.

But Hubba cried out in wonder, and the men and Ingvar came out to see what his call meant. Then they, too, were amazed, for they knew the bird and her ways well.

I had spoken of the falcon once or twice, telling the jarls how she had taken to me, and I think they had doubted it a little. Now the bird had got free in some way, and finding neither of her masters, had fled home, even as Lodbrok said she would.

"Now is your story proved to be true," said Hubba, smiling gravely at me, but speaking for Ingvar's ear.

"Aye, over true," answered his brother; "serve this man well, Raud and Rolf, for he has been a close friend of Jarl Lodbrok."

"Then should he be in Lodbrok's house as a guest," said Raud stoutly, and free of speech as Danes will ever be.

"Maybe he shall be so soon," said Ingvar.

"I will bide with my first hosts," I said, not being willing to speak much of this just now.

"That is well said," was Hubba's reply, and so we went to have the falcon--who would not leave me--hooded and confined; and then I went with the two men back to their hut, and there they vied with each other in kindness to me until night fell, and I gladly went to rest; for since that night within Caistor walls I had had no sleep that was worth considering. So my sleep was a long sleep, and nothing broke it until I woke of myself, and found only the great dog Vig in the hut, and breakfast ready set out for me, while outside the ground was white with snow.

I was glad to find that no watch was kept on me, for it seemed as if Hubba's words were indeed true, and that the jarls believed my story. And my dagger was left me also, hanging still on the wall at my head where I had slept. Then I thought that the great dog was maybe bidden to guard me, but he paid no heed when I went outside the hut to try if it were so.

Ere an hour had passed Raud came back, and he had news for me.

"Now, friend Wulfric, I am to part with my guest, and not in the way that was yesterday's. The jarls bid me say that Wulfric of Reedham, Lodbrok's preserver, is a welcome guest in their hall, and they would see him there at once."

"Nevertheless," I answered, "Raud the forester was the first to shelter me, and I do not forget."

Whereat Raud was pleased, and together we went to the great house, and entered, unchallenged. Hubba came forward and held out his strong hand to me frankly, smiling a little, but gravely, and I took it.

"Beorn has told the truth," he said; "forgive me for doubt of you at any time."

"Aye, let that be forgotten," said Ingvar, coming from beyond the great fire, and I answered that I thought it not strange that they had doubted me.

"Now, therefore," said Hubba, "you yourself shall question Beorn, for there are things you want to know from him. And he will answer you truly enough."

"After that you shall slay him, if you will," said Ingvar, in his stern voice, "I wonder you did not do so in the boat. Better for him if you had."

"I wonder not," said Hubba. "The man is fit for naught; I could not lay hand on such a cur."

I had no answer to make after that, for the warrior spoke my own thoughts, and I held my peace as they took me to the further side of the hearth, past the fire, beyond which I had not yet been able to see.

Then I knew how Beorn had been made to speak the truth. They had tortured him, and there was no strength left in him at all, so that I almost started back from the cruel marks that he bore. Yet I had things to hear from him, now that he had no need to speak falsely, and I went to his side. The two jarls stood and looked at him unmoved.

"The justice of Ulfkytel is on you, Beorn," I said slowly; "there is no need to hide aught. Tell me how you slew Lodbrok, and why."

Then came a voice, so hollow that I should not have known it for the lusty falconer's of past days:

"Aye; justice is on me, and I am glad. I will tell you, but first say that you forgive me."

Then I could not but tell this poor creature that for all the harm he had done me I would surely forgive him; but that the deed of murder was not for me to forgive.

"Pray, therefore, that for it I may be forgiven hereafter," he said, and that I promised him.

Then he spoke faintly, so that Hubba bade Raud give him strong drink, and that brought his strength back a little.

"I took your arrows at Thetford, and I followed you to Reedham. There I dogged you, day by day, in the woods--five days I went through the woods as you hunted, and then you twain were far apart, and my chance had come. Lodbrok reined up to listen, and I marked where he would pass when he went back, hearing your horn. Then I shot, and the arrow went true; but I drew sword, being mad, and made more sure. That is all. Surely I thought I should escape, for I told no man what I would do, and all men thought me far away, with the king."

Then he stopped, and recovered his strength before he could go on.

"I hated Lodbrok because he had taken my place beside the king, and because his woodcraft was greater than mine, though I was first in that in all our land. And I feared that he would take the land the king offered him, for I longed for it."

Then Beorn closed his eyes, and I was turning away, for I need ask no more; but again he spoke:

"Blind was yon dotard Ulfkytel not to see all this; would that you had slain me in the woods at first--or that he had hanged me at Caistor--or that I had been drowned. But justice is done, and my life is ended."

Those were the last words that I heard Beorn, the falconer, speak, for I left him, and Raud gave him to drink again.

"Have you no more to ask?" said Ingvar gloomily, and frowning on Beorn, as he lay helpless beyond the hearth.

"Nothing, Jarl."

"What was the last word he said. I heard not."

"He said that justice was done," I answered.

"When I have done with him, it shall be so," growled Ingvar, and his hand clutched his sword hilt, so that I thought to see him slay the man on the spot.

"Has he told you all?" I asked of Hubba.

"All, and more than you have told of yourself," he answered; "for he told us that it was your hand saved my father, and for that we thank you. But one thing more he said at first, and that was that Eadmund the King set him on to slay the jarl."

On that I cried out that the good king loved Lodbrok too well, and in any case would suffer no such cowardly dealings.

"So ran his after words; but that was his first story, nevertheless."

"Then he lied, for you have just now heard him say that his own evil thoughts bade him do the deed."

"Aye--maybe he lied at first; but we shall see," said Ingvar.

Now I understood not that saying, but if a man lies once, who shall know where the lie's doings will stop? What came from this lie I must tell, but now it seemed to have passed for naught.

"Now shall you slay the man in what way you will, as I have said. There are weapons," and Ingvar pointed to the store on the walls.

"I will not touch him," I said, "and I think that he dies."

"Then shall you see the vengeance of Ingvar on his father's murderer," the jarl said savagely. "Call the men together into the courtyard, Raud, and let them bring the man there."

"Let him die, Jarl," I said boldly; "he has suffered already."

"I think that if you knew, Wulfric of Reedham, how near you have been to this yourself, through his doings, you would not hold your hand," answered Ingvar, scowling at Beorn again.

"Maybe, Jarl," I answered, "but though you may make a liar speak truth thus, you cannot make an honest man say more than he has to speak."

"One cannot well mistake an honest saying," said Ingvar. "And that is well for you, friend."

And so he turned and watched his courtmen, as the Danes called the housecarles, carry Beorn out. Then he went to the walls and began to handle axe after axe, taking down one by one, setting some on the great table, and putting others back, as if taking delight in choosing one fittest for some purpose.

Even as we watched him--Hubba sitting on the table's edge, and I standing by him--a leathern curtain that went across a door at the upper end of the hall was pulled aside, and a lady came into the place. Stately and tall, with wondrous black hair, was this maiden, and I knew that this must be that Osritha of whom the jarl was wont to speak to Eadgyth and my mother, and who wrought the raven banner that hung above the high place where she stood now. She was like Halfden and Hubba, though with Ingvar's hair, and if those three were handsome men among a thousand, this sister of theirs was more than worthy of them. She stood in the door, doubting, when she saw me. Sad she looked, and she wore no gold on arm or neck, doubtless because of the certainty of the great jarl's death; and when she saw that Hubba beckoned to her, she came towards us, and Ingvar set down the great axe whose edge he was feeling.

"Go back to your bower, sister," he said; "we have work on hand."

And he spoke sternly, but not harshly, to her. She shrank away a little, as if frightened at the jarl's dark face and stern words, but Hubba called her by name.

"Stay, Osritha; here is that friend of our father's from over seas, of whom you have heard."

Then she looked pityingly at me, as I thought, saying very kindly:

"You are welcome. Yet I fear you have suffered for your friendship to my father."

"I have suffered for not being near to help him, lady," I said.

"There is a thing that you know not yet," said Hubba. "This Wulfric was the man who took Father from the breakers."

Then the maiden smiled at me, though her eyes were full of tears, and she asked me:

"How will they bury him in your land? In honour?"

"I have a brother-in-law who will see to that," I said. "And, moreover, Eadmund the King, and Elfric, my father, will do him all honour."

"I will see to that," growled Ingvar, turning sharply from where he sought another weapon on the wall.

Not knowing all he meant, this pleased me, for I thought that we should sail together to Reedham for this, before very long. But Osritha, knowing his ways, looked long at him, till he turned away again, and would not meet her eyes.

"Now go back to your place, my sister," he said. "It is not well for you to bide here just now."

"Why not? Let our friend tell me of Father also," she said wilfully.

"Because I am going to do justice on Lodbrok's slayer," said Ingvar, in a great voice, swinging an axe again.

Then the maiden turned pale, and wrung her hands, looking at Ingvar, who would not meet her eyes; and then she went and laid her hands on his mighty arm, crying:

"Not that, my brother; not that!"

"Why not?" he asked; but he did not shake off her little hands.

"Because Father would not have men so treated, however ill they had done."

"Aye, brother; the girl is right," said Hubba. "Let him die; for you gave him to Wulfric, and that is his word."

"Well then," said Ingvar, setting back the axe at last, "I will not carve him into the eagle I meant to make of him. But slay him I must and will, if the life is yet in him."

"Let Odin have him," said Hubba; and I knew that he meant that the man should be hanged, for so, as Halfden's vikings told me, should he be Odin's thrall, unhonoured.

Then the maiden fled from the hall, glad to have gained even that for the man, instead of the terrible death that the Danes keep for traitors and cowards.

Now Ingvar put back the axes he had kept, saying that the girl ever stood in his way when he would punish as a man deserved. After that he stood for a while as if in thought, and broke out at length:

"We will see if this man can sing a death song as did Ragnar our forefather."

And with that he waited no more, but strode out into the courtyard, we following. And I feared what I should see; until I looked on Beorn, and though he was yet alive, I saw that he was past feeling aught.

They bore him out of the village to a place just inside the trenched enclosure, and there were old stone walls, such as were none elsewhere in the place, but as it might have been part of Burgh or Brancaster walls that the Romans made on our shores, so ancient that they were crumbling to decay. There they set him down, and raised a great flat stone, close to the greatest wall, which covered the mouth of a deep pit.

"Look therein," said Ingvar to me.

I looked, and saw that the pit was stone walled and deep, and that out of it was no way but this hole above. The walls and floor were damp and slimy; and when I looked closer, the dim light showed me bones in one corner, and also that over the floor crawled reptiles, countless.

"An adder is a small thing to sting a man," said Ingvar in his grim voice. "Nor will it always hurt him much. Yet if a man is so close among many that he must needs tread on one, and it bites him, and in fleeing that he must set foot on another, and again another, and then more--how will that end?"

I shuddered and turned away.

"In such a place did Ella of Northumbria put my forebear, Ragnar Lodbrok; and there he sang the song {xiii} we hold most wondrous of all. There he was set because he was feared, and Northumbria knows what I thought of that matter. But Beorn goes here for reasons which you know. And East Anglia shall know what my thoughts are of those reasons."

Then two men seized Beorn and cast him into that foul pit, stripped of all things, and the stone fell.

But Beorn moved not nor cried out, and I think that even as Ulfkytel had boded, stripped of life itself was he before the bottom of the pit was reached.

So the justice of Ulfkytel the Earl came to pass. But the lies spoken by Beorn were not yet paid for.