Wulfric the Weapon Thane by Charles W. Whistler (uplifting books for women txt) 📕

led to the high table thence, so that the king need not go through the crowd of housecarles and lesser folk who sat, below the salt, along the walls. And in that chamber was a chimney to the fire, so that the hearth was against the wall, which was a marvel to many, but made the place more meet for the king. Ingild the merchant, my other godfather, whose home was in London, had brought men thence to make it for us, having the like in his own house after some foreign pattern.

There were two men only in this room when I returned ready for the feast. Both stood before the fire, and both were brightly dressed, and hardly, but for the drowsy hawk which sat unhooded on his hand, should I have known Lodbrok in the rich dress my father had had prepared for him. The other was Beorn, the king's falconer, who went everywhere with his master. These two were speaking together as they stood before the fire, and I thought that what Beorn said was not pleasing to the Dane, for he turned away a little, and answered shortly.

When they saw me both turned, Lodbrok with a smile of welcome, and Beorn with a loud, rough voice crying to me:

"Ho, Wulfric, here is a strange thing! This gold ring have I offered to your stranger here for his falcon--which has three wing feathers missing, moreover--and he will not sell, though I trow that a man cast ashore must needs want gold more than a bird which he may not fly save I gain him leave from the king."

"The bird is Wulfric's," said Lodbrok quietly.

"Nay, Jarl," I answered, "I would not take so loving a hawk from her master, and over all our manors you may surely fly her."

"See you there!" cried Beorn, with a sort of delight, not heeding my last words, "Wulfric will not have her! Now will you sell?"

Then Lodbrok looked at me with a short glance that I could not but understand, and said that it would surely grieve him if I would not take the falcon.

Pleased enough I was, though half unwilling to take what seemed as a forced gift. Yet to quiet Beorn--whom I never liked, as he was both overbearing and boastful, though of great skill in his art of falconry--I thanked the Dane, and went to where a hawking glove hung on the wall, for my arm would feel the marks of those strong talons for many a day, already. As I put it on I said that I feared the bird would hardly come to me, leaving her master.

"Once I would have said that she would not," said Lodbrok; "for until today she would bide with no man but myself and her keeper. But today she has sat on your wrist, so that I know she will love you well, for reasons that are beyond my guessing."

And so he shifted the falcon lightly from his wrist to mine, and there she sat quietly, looking from him to me as though she would own us both.

Then said Beorn, holding out his hand, on which he wore his embroidered state glove of office:

"This is foolishness. The bird will perch on any wrist that is rightly held out to her, so she be properly called," and he whistled shrill, trying to edge the falcon from my hand.

In a moment she roused herself, and her great wings flew out, striking his arm and face as he pushed them forward; and had he not drawn back swiftly, her iron beak would surely have rent his gay green coat.

"Plague on the kite!" he said; "surely she is bewitched! And if her master is, as they say, a wizard, that is likely--"

"Enough, Master Falconer," I said, growing angry. "Lodbrok is our guest, and this, moreover, is the court for the time. Why, the bird is drowsy, and has been with me already. There is no wonder in the matter, surely?"

But Beorn scowled, and one might see that his pride of falconry was hurt. Maybe he would have answered again, but I spoke to Lodbrok, asking him what the falcon was, as she was like none of ours, for this was a thing I knew Beorn would be glad to know, while his pride would not let him ask.

And Lodbrok answered that she was an Iceland gerfalcon from the far northern ocean, and went on to tell us of her powers of flight, and at what game she was best, and how she would take her quarry, and the like. And Beorn sat down and feigned to pay no heed to us.

Presently the Dane said that he had known gerfalcons to fly from Iceland to Norway in a day, and at that Beorn laughed as in scorn.

"Who shouted from Norway to Iceland to say that a lost hawk had come over?" he said.

The Dane laughed a little also, as at a jest; though one could tell that Beorn rather meant insult.

"Why," he answered, "the bird got loose from her master's ship as he sailed out of port in Iceland, and he found her at home in Nidaros at his journey's ending; and they knew well on what day she came, which was the same as that on which she got free."

Then I said, lest Beorn should scoff again:

"Now, if this falcon got free from here, surely she will go home to your land."

"Aye, and so my sons will think me dead, seeing her come without me. Wherefore keep her safely mewed until she has learnt that this is her home, for I would not have that mischance happen."

That I promised easily, for I prized the bird highly. And that I might not leave him with the surly Beorn, I asked the jarl to come and see her safely bestowed, and left the room with him.

As we crossed the courtyard to the mews, where our good hawks were, Lodbrok said to me:

"I fear yon falconer is ill pleased with me."

"I have a mind to tell the king of his rudeness to our guest," I answered.

"That is not worth while," said Lodbrok. "The man's pride is hurt that he should be thus baffled for all his skill, which, from his talk, must be great," and we both laughed, for Beorn loved his own praises.

Now when we got back the guests were gathering, and it was not long before the king entered, and at once called me.

"All here I know but one, Wulfric, and that one is your seafarer. Let me know him also that speech may be free among us."

So Lodbrok came, and he and the king looked long at one another before Eadmund spoke.

"I have heard your story, friend, and it is a strange one," he said pleasantly. "Moreover, I know your name in some way."

"Well known is the name of Ragnar Lodbrok, my forefather," said the jarl. "Mayhap the king remembers the name thus!"

"Aye," answered Eadmund, "that is a well-known and honoured name, and I think that Ragnar's son has a share in his courage. But your face also seems known to me, and it was not of the great Ragnar that I thought. Have we met in years past?"

Then Lodbrok said that he had been in London at a time when Offa the King was there, and it was long years ago, but that the very day might be remembered by reason of a great wedding that he had been to see out of curiosity, knowing little of Saxon customs. And he named the people who were married in the presence of Offa and many nobles.

Then Eadmund laughed a little.

"Now it all comes into my mind," he said; "you are the leader of those strangers who must needs come into the church in helm and mail, with axe and shield hung on shoulders. Moreover, for that reason, when men bade you depart and you went not, they even let you bide. So I asked your name--and now I can answer for it that Lodbrok Jarl you are."

And he held out his hand for the Dane to kiss, after our custom. But Lodbrok grasped and shook it heartily, saying:

"Thanks, Lord King, for that remembrance, and maybe also for a little forgetfulness."

Nor was Eadmund displeased with the freedom, but at that last saying he laughed outright.

"Kings have both to remember and forget," he said, "and maybe, if the citizens had not expected you to behave as wild vikings, you would have gone peacefully as you came?"

"That is the truth," said Lodbrok.

So I suppose there had been some fray, of little moment, with the London folk.

Then we followed the king into the hall; and Lodbrok and I together sat at table over against him. Soon I knew all that an hour or two of pleasant talk would teach me of his home and sons and sports, and the king asked now and again of Danish customs, not yet speaking of the voyage.

"For," said he, "it is ill recalling hardships until the feast is over. Then may one enjoy the telling."

Presently the gleemen sang to us; and after that the harp went round, that those who could might sing, and all the talk in hall was hushed to hear Eadmund himself, the men setting down ale cups and knives to listen, for he had a wondrously sweet voice, and sang from the ancient songs of Caedmon {iv}. Then I sang of the sea--some song I had made and was proud of, and it pleased all. And at length we looked at Lodbrok, wondering if he could take his turn.

"Fain would I try to please my host," he said, looking a little wistfully at my father; "but a man swept far from home against his will is no singer."

Then Eadmund pitied him, as did we all, and rose up.

"Feasting is over, thanes," he said. "Let us sit awhile in the other chamber and hear Lodbrok's story."

For he would ever leave the hall as at this time, so that the housecarles and lesser guests might have greater freedom of talk when we were gone.

So we rose up, and as we did so I saw Beorn, the falconer, look sourly at Lodbrok; and it misliked me that he should harbour any ill will even yet against the Dane who had done him no wrong.

Round the fire we sat; some ten of us in all, for Bishop Humbert and his folk went to their lodgings in the town, and there Lodbrok told the king of his voyage.

And when he named his sons, Eadmund looked grave, and said:

"I have heard of those two chiefs, Ingvar and Hubba. Did they not make a raid into Northumbria two years ago? Maybe they are yet there with the host."

"Aye," answered Lodbrok, seeming to wonder at the grave face of our king; "they went to Northumbria with the host that is yet there. They fought well and bravely at the place men call Streoneshalch {v}, gaining much booty. And it was by Ingvar's plan that the place was taken, and that was well done. But they left the host with their men after that, saying that there were over many leaders already."

Now we all knew the cruel story of the burning of that place; but Northumbria was a far-off kingdom, and with it we had