 7. How Eric went up Mosfell against Scalagrim the Bazaarck Now Atly the Good, Earl of the Orkneys, comes into the story. It chants that Atly had sailed to Iceland in the autumn on a business about certain lands that had fallen to him in right of his mother Helga, who was an Icelander, and he had wintered west of Rejanis. Spring being calm, he wished to sail home, and when his ship was bound he put to sea full early in the year. But a chance the bad weather came up from the southeast with mist and rain so that he must needs beach his ship in a creek under the shelter of the westmen islands. Now Atly asked what people dwelt in these parts, and when he heard the name of Asmund Asmundson the priest, he was glad for in old days he and Asmund had gone many a Viking cruise together. We will leave the ship here, he said, till the weather clears and go up to Middlehof to stay with Asmund. So they made the ship snug and left men to watch her, but two of the company, with Earl Atly, rode up to Middlehof. It must be told of Atly that he was the best of the earls who lived in those days, and he ruled the Orkneys so well that men gave him a by-name and called him Atly the Good. It was said of him that he had never turned a poor man away unsecured, nor bowed his head before a strong man, nor drawn his sword without cause, nor refused peace to him who prayed it. He was sixty years old, but age had left few marks on him, except that of his long white beard. He was keen-eyed and well-fashioned to form and face, a great warrior and the strongest of men. His wife was dead, leaving him no children, and this was a sorrow to him, but as yet he had taken no other wife, for he would say, Love makes an old man blind, and, when age runs with youth, both shall fall. And again, mixed gray locks and golden and spoiled two heads. For this Earl was a man of many wise sayings. Now Atly came to Middlehof just as men sat down to meet, and, hearing the clatter of arms, all sprang to their feet, thinking that perhaps Ostbecker had come again as he had promised. But when Asmund saw Atly, he knew him at once, though they had not met for nearly thirty years, and he greeted him lovingly, and put him in the high seat, and gave a place to his men upon the cross-benches. Atly told all his story, and Asmund bade him rest awhile at Middlehof till the weather grew clearer. Now the Earl saw Swanhild, and thought the maid wondrous fair, and so indeed she was, as she moved scornfully to and fro in her curdle of white. Soft was her curling hair, and deep were her dark blue eyes, and bent were her red lips, as is a bow above her dimpled chin, and her teeth shone like pearls. Is that fair maid thy daughter, Asmund? asked Atly. She is named Swanhild the Fatherless. He answered, turning his face away. Well, said Atly, looking sharply on him, were the maid sprung from me, she would not long be called the Fatherless, for few have such a daughter. She is fair enough, said Asmund, in all safe temper, and that is bad to cross. In every sword a flaw, answers Atly. But what has an old man to do with young maids and their beauty? And he sighed. I have known younger men who would seem less brisk at bridles, said Asmund, and for that time they talk no more of the matter. Now Swanhild heard something of this speech, and she guessed more, and it came into her mind that it would be the best of sport to make this old man love her, and then to mock him and say him nay. So she set herself to the task. As it ever was her want, and she found it easy. For all day long, with downcast eyes and gentle looks, she waded upon the earl, and now, at his bidding, she sang to him in a voice soft and low. And now she talked so wisely well that Atly thought that no such maid had tried the earth before. But he checked himself with many learned saws, and on a day when the weather had grown fair, and they sat alone, he told her that his ship was bound for Orkney Isles. Then, as though by chance, Swanhild laid her white hand in his, and on a sudden looked deep into his eyes and said with trembling lips, Ah, go not yet, Lord! I pray thee, go not yet! And, turning, she fled away. But Atly was much moved, and he said to himself, Now a strange thing has come to pass. A fair maid loves an old man, and yet, me thinks, he who looks into those eyes sees deep waters, and he beat his brow and thought. But Swanhild, in her chamber, laughed till the tears ran from those same eyes, for she saw that the great fish was hooked, and now the time had come to play him, for she did not know that it was otherwise faded. Gondruta, too, saw all these things, and knew not how to read them, for she was of an honest mind, and could not understand how a woman may love a man as Swanhild loved Eric, and yet make such play with other men, and that of her free will. For she guessed little of Swanhild's guilefulness, nor of the coldness of her heart to all save Eric, nor of how this was the only joy left to her, to make a sport of man and put them to grief and shame. Atly said to himself that he would watch this maid well before he uttered a word to Asmund, and he deemed himself very cunning, for he was wondrous cautious after the fashion of those about to fall. So he said himself to watching, and Swanhild set herself to smiling, and he told her tales of warfare and of daring, and she clasped her hands and said, Was there ever such a man since Odin tried the earth? And so it went on, till the serving women laughed at the old man in love, and the wit of her that mocked him. Now upon a day Eric, having made an end of sowing his corn, he thought himself of his vow to go up alone against Scalagrim the Bezark, in his den on Mosfell, over by Hekla. Now this was a heavy task, for Scalagrim was held so mighty among men that none went up against him any more, and at times Eric thought of Kudruda and Psyde, for it was likely that she would be a widow before she was made a wife. Still, his oath must be fulfilled, and more over, of late Scalagrim, having heard that a youngling named Eric Brideyes had vowed to slay him single-handed, had made a mock of him in this fashion, for Scalagrim rode down to Koldback on Ran River, and at night time took a lamb from the fold. Holding the lamb beneath his arm, he drew near to the house and smote thrice upon the door with his battle-axe, and they were thundering knocks. Then he leapt onto his horse and rode off a space and waited. Presently Eric came out, but half clad, a shield in one hand and white fire in the other, and, looking by the bright moonlight, he saw a huge black-bearded man seated on a horse, having a great axe in one hand and the lamb beneath his arm. Who art thou, roared Eric? I am called Scalagrim, youngling, answered the man on the horse. Many men have seen me once, none have wished to see me twice, and some few have ever seen ought again. Now, it has been echoed in my ears that thou hast vowed a vow to go up Mosvel against Scalagrim the Bezark, and I am come hither to say that I will make thee right welcome. See? And with his axe, he cut off the lamb's tail on the pommel of his saddle. Of the flesh of this lamb of thine, I will brew broth, and of his skin I will make me a vest. Take thou this tail, and when thou fittest it onto the skin again, Scalagrim will own a lord, and he hurled the tail towards him. By thou there till I come to thee, shouted Eric, it will spare me a ride to Mosvel. Nay, nay, it is good for lads to take the mountain air, and Scalagrim turned his horse away, laughing. Eric watched Scalagrim vanish over the knoll, and then, though he was very angry, laughed also and went in. But first he picked up the tail, and on the morrow he skinned it. Now the time was come when the matter must be tried, and Eric bade farewell to Savuna his mother, and Una his cousin, and Gert Whitefire round him, and set upon his head a golden helm with wings on it. Then he found the bernie, which his father, Thorgrimmer, had stripped, together with the helm, from that bazaar who cut off his leg. And this was a good piece, forged of the Welshman. And he put it on his breast, and taking a stout shield of bull's hide, studded with nails, rode away with one thrall, the strong carl named John. But the women misdotted them much of this venture, nevertheless Eric might not be gained sade. Now the road to Mosfell runs past Middlehoff, and thither he came, at lie, standing at the men's door, saw him and cried aloud, Oh, a mighty man comes here! Swanhild looked out and saw Eric, and he was a goodly sight in his war gear. For now, week by week, he seemed to grow more fair and great, as the full strength of his manhood rose in him, like sap in the spring grass. And Grudruta was very proud of her lover. That night Eric stayed at Middlehoff, and sat hand in hand with Grudruta, and taunt with Earl Atlye. Now the heart of the old Viking went out to Eric, and he took great delight in him, and in his strength and deeds. And he longed much that the gods had given him such a son. I prophesied this of thee, bright eyes, he cried. Let it shall go ill with this bear's ark thou seekest. Yes, and with all men who come within sweep of that great sword of thine. But remember this, lad, guard thy head with thy buckler, cut low beneath his shield, if he carries one, and mow the legs from him, for ever a bear's ark rushes on, shield up. Eric thanked him for his good words, and went to rest. But, before it was light, he rose, and Grudruta rose also, and came into the hall, and buckled his harness on him with her own hands. This is a sad task for me, Eric, she sighed. For how do I know that bear's ark's hands shall not loose this helm of thine? It is as it may be, sweet, he said. But I fear not the bear's ark or any man. How goes it with Swan-hilled now? I know not. She makes herself sweet to that old earl, and he is faint of her, and that is beyond my sight. I have seen as much, said Eric. It will be well for us if he should wed her. I, an ill for him, but it is to be doubted if that is in her mind. Now Eric kissed her soft and sweet, and went away, bidding her look for his return on the day after the morrow. Grudruta bore up bravely against her fears till he was gone, but then she wept a little. Now it is to be told that Eric and his thrall John rode hard up Stonefell, and across the mountains, and over the black sand, till two hours before sunset, they came to the foot of Mosfell, having Hecla on their right. It is a grim mountain, gray with moss, standing alone in the desert plain, but between it and Hecla there is good grassland. Here is the fox's earth, now to start him, said Eric. He knows something of the path by which this fortress can be climbed from the south, and horses may be ridden up it for space. So on they go, till at length they come to a flat place where water runs down the black rocks, and here Eric drank of the water, ate food, and washed his face in hands. This done he bid John tend the horses, for here about there is a little grass, and be watchful till he returned, since he must go up against Scalagrem alone. And there with a doubtful heart John stayed all night, for of all that came to pass he saw but one thing, and that was the light of white fire as it flashed out high above him on the brow of the mountain when first bright eyes smote at foe. Eric went warily up the bizarre path, for he would keep his breath in him, and the light shone redly on his golden high he went, till at length he came to a pass narrow and dark, and hedged on either side with sheer cliffs, such as two armed men might hold against a score. He peered down this path, but he saw no bazaar, though it was worn by bazaar feet. He crept along its length, moving like a sunbeam through the darkness of the pass, for the light gathered on his helm and soared, till suddenly the path turned and he was on the brink of a gulf that seemed to have no bottom, and looking across and down he could see John and the horses more than a hundred fathoms beneath. Now Eric must stop, for this path leads but into the black gulf, and he was perplexed to know where scallogram had his lair, he crept to the brink and gazed, then he saw that a point of rock jutted from the sheer face of the cliff, and that the point was worn with the mark of feet. Where bazaar passes there may yeoman follow, said Eric, and sheathing white fire, without more ado, though he liked the task little, he grasped the overhanging rock and stepped down onto the point below. Now he was perched like an eagle over the dizzy gulf and his brain swam. Backward he feared to go, and forward he might not, for there was nothing but air. Beside him, growing from the face of the cliff, was a birch bush. He grasped it to study himself. It bent beneath his clutch, and then he saw, behind it, a hole in the rock through which a man could creep, and down this hole ran footmarks. First through the air like a bird, now through the earth like a fox, said Eric, and entered the hole. Doubling his body till his helm almost touched his knee, he took three paces and low. He stood on a great platform of rock, so large that a hall might be built on it, which, curving inwards, cannot be seen from the narrow pass. This platform, that is backed by the sheer cliff, looks straight to the south, and from it he could search the plane and the path that he had traveled, and there once more he saw John and the horses far below him. A strong place truly and well chosen, said Eric and looked around. On the floor of the rock and some paces from him, a turf fire still smoldered, and by it were sheep's bones and beyond in the face of the overhanging precipice was the mouth of a cave. The wolf is at home or was but lately, said Eric. Now for his lair. And with that he walked warily to the mouth of the cave and peered in. He could see nothing yet a while, but surely he heard a sound of snoring. Then he crept in, and presently, by the red light of the burning embers, he saw a great black-bearded man stretched at length upon a rug of sheepskins, and by his side an axe. Now it would be easy to make an end to this cave-dweller, thought Eric, but that is a deed I will not do. No, not even to a bazaarck to slay him in his sleep. And therewith he stepped lightly to the side of Scalagrim, and was about to prick him with a point of white fire, when, as he did so, another man sat up behind Scalagrim. Pythor, for two I did not bargain, said Eric, and sprang from the cave. Then with a grunt of rage, that bazaarck who was behind Scalagrim came out like a she-bear robbed of her welps, and ran straight at Eric, sore to loft. Eric gives before him right to the edge of the cliff. Then the bazaarck smites at him, and bright eyes catches the blow on his shield, and smites at him in turn so well and truly that the head of the bazaarck flies from his shoulders and spins along the ground, but his body, with outstretched arms yet gripping at the air, falls over the edge of the gulf, sheer into the water, a hundred fathoms down. It was the flash that white fire made as it circled air at smote that John saw while he waited in the dell upon the mountain side. But at the bazaarck he saw nothing, for he passed down into the great fire-riven cleft and was never seen more, save only once in a strange fashion that shall be told. This was the first man whom bright eyes slew. Now the old tale tells that Eric cried aloud, little chance had this one, and that then a wonderful thing came to pass, for the head on the rock opened its eyes and answered, little chance indeed against the Eric, bright eyes, still I tell thee this, that where my body fell, there thou shalt fall, and where it lies, there thou shalt lie also. Now Eric was afraid, for he thought it a strange thing that a severed head should speak to him. Here it seems I have to deal with trolls, he said, but at the least, though he speak, this one shall strike no more, and he looked at the head, but it answered nothing. Now Scaligram slept through it all, and the light grew so dim that Eric thought it time to make an end this way or that. Therefore he took the head of the slain man, though he feared to touch it, and rolled it swiftly into the cave saying, Now, being so glib of speech, go tell thy mate that Eric bright eyes knocks at his door. Then came sounds as of a man rising, and presently Scaligram rushed forth with axoloft in his fellow's head in his left hand. He was clothed in nothing but a shirt, and the skin of Eric's lamb was bound to his chest. Where now is my mate? He said. Then he saw Eric leaning on white fire, his golden helm ablaze with the glory of the passing sun. It seems thou holdest somewhat of him in nine hands, Scaligram. And for the rest, go seek it in yonder rift. Who art thou? roared Scaligram. Thou mayest know me by this token, said Eric, and threw towards him the skin of that lamb's tail, which Scaligram had lifted from cold back. Now Scaligram knew him, and the bizarre fit came on. His eyes rolled, foam flew to his lips, his mouth grinned, and he was awesome to see. He let fall the head, and, swinging the great axoloft, rushed at Eric. But bright eyes is too swift for him. Would not be well to let that stroke fall, and it must go hard with ought it struck. He springs forward. He louts low and sweeps upward with white fire. Scaligram sees the sword flare and drops almost to his knee, guarding his head with the ax. But white fire strikes on the iron half of the ax, and shears it in two, so that the ax head falls to the earth. Now the bazaar is weaponless, but unharmed, and it would be an easy task to slay him as he rushes by. But it came into Eric's mind that it is an unworthy deed to slay a swordless man. And this came into his mind also, that he desired to match his naked might against a bazaar in his rage. So, in the hardyhood of his youth and strength, he cast white fire aside, and crying, Come, try a fall with me, bazaar. Rushed on Scaligram. Thou art mad, yells the bazaar. And they are at it hard. Now they grip and rend and tear. Ospecker was strong, but the bazaar's strength of Scaligram is more than the strength of Ospecker. And soon bright eyes thinks longingly on white fire that he cast aside. Eric is mighty beyond the might of men, but he can scarcely hold his own against this mad man. And very soon he knows that only one chance is left to him. And that is to cling to Scaligram till the bazaar fit be passed. And he is once more like other men. But this is easier to tell of than to do. And presently, strife as he will, Eric is on his back and Scaligram on him. But still he holds the bazaar as with bands of iron, and Scaligram may not free his arms, though he strived furiously. Now they roll over and over on the rock, and the gloom gathers fast about them, till presently, Eric sees that they draw near to the brink of that mighty rift, down which the severed head of the cave dweller had foretold his fall. Then we go together, says Eric, but the bazaar does not heed. Now they are on the very brink, and here, as it chances, or as the norns decree, a little rock juts up, and this keeps them from falling. Eric is uppermost, and strife as he will, Scaligram may not turn him on his back again. Still bright eyes's strength may not endure very long, for he grows faint, and his legs slip slowly over the side of the rift, till now he clings, as it were, by his ribs and shoulder blades alone, that rub against the little rock. The light dies away, and Eric thinks on sweet Gajruta and makes ready to die also, when suddenly a last ray from the sun falls on the fierce face of Scaligram, and lo, bright eyes sees it change, for the madness goes out of it, and in a moment the bazaar becomes but as a child in his mighty grip. Hold, said Scaligram, I crave peace, and he loosed his clasp. Not too soon then, gasped Eric, as, drawing his legs from over the brink of the rift, he gained his feet, and staggering to his sword, grasped it very thankfully. I am for done, said Scaligram. Come, drag me from this place, for I fall, or if thou wilt, hew off my head. I will not serve thee thus, said Eric, thou art a gallant foe, and he put out his hand and drew him into safety. For a while Scaligram lay panting, then he gained his hands and knees and crawled to where Eric leaned against the rock. Lord, he said, give me thy hand. Eric stretched forth his left hand, wondering, and Scaligram took it. He did not stretch out his right, for, fearing guile, he gripped white fire in it. Lord, Scaligram said again, of all men who ever were thou art the mightiest. Five other men had not stood before me in my rage, but, scorning thy weapon, thou didst overcome me in the noblest fashion, and by thy naked strength alone. Now, harken, thou hast given me my life, and it is thine from this hour to the end. Here I swear fealty to thee. Slay me if thou wilt, or use me if thou wilt, but I think it will be better for thee to do this rather than that. For there is but one who has mastered me, and thou art he, and it is borne in upon my mind that thou wilt have need of my strength, and that shortly. That may well be Scaligram, said Eric, yet I put little trust in outlaws and cave dwellers. How do I know, if I take thee to me, that thou wilt not murder me in my sleep, as it would have been easy for me to do by thee but now? What is it that runs from thy arm? Ask Scaligram. Blood, said Eric. Stretch out thine arm, Lord. Eric did so, and the bazaar put his lips to the scratch and sucked the blood, then said, In this blood of thine I pledge thee, Eric, bright eyes. May Vahala refuse me and hella take me. May I be hunted like a fox from earth to earth. May trolls torment me and wizards sport with me all night. May my limbs shrivel and my heart turn to water. May my foes overtake me and may my bones be crushed across the doomstone. If I fail in one jot from this, my oath that I have sworn, I will guard thy back, I will smite thy enemies, thy hearthstone shall be my temple, thy honor my honor, for all am I of thine and for all I will be, and whilst thou wilt, we will live one life, and in the end we will die one death. It seems that in going to seek a foe I have found a friend, said Eric, and it is likely enough that I shall need one. Scaligram, bazaar can outlaw as thou art, I take thee at thy word. Henceforth we are master and man, and we will do many a deed side by side, and in token of it I lengthen thy name and call thee Scaligram lamstail. Now, if thou hast it, give me food and drink, for I am faint from that hug of thine, old bear. End of chapter Recording by Brett Towney Chapter 8 of Eric Brideyes by H. Rider Haggard This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Brett Towney Chapter 8 How Osbacher Blacktooth found Eric Brideyes and Scaligram lamstail on horsehead heights. Now Scaligram led Eric to his cave and fed the fire and gave him flesh to eat and ale to drink. When he had eaten his fill, Eric looked at the bazaar. He had black hair streaked with gray that hung down upon his shoulders. His nose was hooked like an eagle's beak. His beard was wild, and his sunken eyes were keen as a hawk's. He was somewhat bent and not over tall, but of a mighty make, for his shoulders must pass many a door sideways. Thou art a great man, said Eric. And it is something to have overcome thee. Now tell me what turned thee bazaar? A shameful deed that was done against me, Lord. Ten years ago, I was a yeoman of small wealth in the North. I had but one good thing. And that was the fairest housewife in those parts, Theruna by name. And I loved her much. But we had no children. Now, not far from my stead, is a place called Swinefell. And there dwells a mighty chief named Osbacher Blacktooth. He is an evil man and strong. Eric started at the name, and then bade Scaligram take up the tale. It chanced that Osbacher saw my wife Theruna and would take her. But at first she did not listen. Then he promised her wealth and all good things. And she was weary of our hard way of life and hearkened. Still she would not go away openly, for that had brought shame on her. But plotted with Osbacher that he should come and take her as though by force. So it came about as I lay heavily asleep one night at Theruna's side, having drunk somewhat too deeply of the autumn ale, that armed men seized me, bound me and hailed me from my bed. There were eight of them, and with them was Osbacher. Then Blacktooth bid Theruna rise, clothe herself, and come to be his may. And she made pretense to weep at this, but fell to it readily enough. Now she bound her girdle round her, and to it a knife hung. Kill thyself, sweet! I cried. Death is better than shame. Not so, husband, she answered. It is true that I love Bathie, yet a woman may find another love, but not another life. And I saw her laugh through her mock tears. Now Osbacher rode away in hot haste to Swinefell, and with him went Theruna. But his men stayed awhile and drank my ale, and as they drank they mocked me who was bound before them. And little by little all the truth was told of the doings of Osbacher and Theruna, my housewife. And I learned that it was she who had planned this sport. Then my eyes grew dark, and I drew near to death from very shame and bitterness. But of a sudden something leaped up in my heart. Fire raged before my eyes, and voices in my ears called on to war and vengeance. I was bazaar, and like hay bands burst my cords. My axe hung on the wainscot. I snatched it thence, and of what befell I know this alone, that when the madness passed, eight men lay stretched out before me, and all the place was but a gore of blood. Then I drew the dead together, and piled drinking tables over them, and benches, and turf, and anything else that would burn, and put cods oil on the pile, and fired the stead above them, so that the tale went abroad that all these men were burned in their cups, and I with them. But I took the name of Scalagrim, and sworn oath against all men, I, and women too. And away I went to the woodfolk, and worked much mischief, for I spared few, and so on to Mosfell. Here I have stayed these five years, waiting the time when I shall find Ospecker, and Tharuna, the harlot, and I have fought many men. But till thou camest up against me, none could stand before my might. A strange tale truly, said Eric, but now harken thou to a stranger, for of a truth it seems that we have not come together by chance. And he told him of Godruda and the wrestling, and of the overthrow of Blacktooth, and showed him Whitefire which he won out of the hand of Ospecker. Scalagrim listened, and laughed aloud. Surely, he said, this is the work of the Norns. See, Lord, thou and I will yet smite this Ospecker. He has taken my wife, and he would take thy betrothed. Let it be, let it be. Ah, wood that I had been there to see the wrestling, Ospecker had never risen from his snowbed. But there is time left to us, and I shall yet see his head roll along the dust. Thou hast his goodly sword, and with it thou shall sweep Blacktooth's head from his shoulders. Or, perchance, that shall be my lot. And with this Scalagrim sprang up, gnashing his teeth and clutching at the air. Peace, said Eric, Blacktooth is not here. Save thy rage until it can run along thy sword and strike him. Nay, not here, nor yet so far off, Lord. Harken, I know this Ospecker. If he has set eyes of longing on Gdruda, Asman's daughter, he will not rest one hour till he have her or his slain. And if he has set eyes of hate on thee, then take heed to thy going and spy down every path before thy feet tread it. Soon shall the matter come on for judgment, and even now Odin's Valkyries choose their own. Valkyries. The coarse choosing sisters who were bidden by Odin to single out those warriors whose hour had come to die in battle and win Valhalla. It is well, then, said Eric. Ye Lord, it is well, for we too have little to fear from any six men. If so be that they fall on us in fair fight. But I do not altogether like thy tale. Too many women are mixed up in it, and women stab in the back. A man may deal with swords aloft, but not with tricks and lies and false women's witchery. It was a woman who greased thy wrestling souls. May happen will be a woman that binds on thy hell shoes when all is done. Aye! And who makes them ready for thy feet? Of women, as of men, answered Eric, there is this to be said that some are good, and some evil. Yes, Lord, and this also, that the evil ones plot the ill of their evil, but the good do it of their blind foolishness. For swear women, and so shall thou live happy and die in honor. Cherish them and live in wretchedness and die in outcast. Thy talk is foolish, said Eric. Birds must to the air, the sea to the shore, and man must to woman. As things are so, let them be, for they will soon seem as though they had never been. I had rather kiss my dear and die, if so it pleases me to do. And kiss her not and live, for at the last the end will be one end, and kisses are sweet. That is a good saying, said Scalagrim. And they fell asleep side by side, and Eric had no fear. Now they awoke, and the light was already full, for they were weary and their sleep had been heavy. Hard by the mouth of the cave is a little well of water that gathers there from the rocks above, and in this Eric washed himself. Then Scalagrim showed him the cave and the goodly store of arms that he had won from those whom he had slain and robbed. A wondrous place, truly, said Eric, and well fitted to the uses of such a Chapman. Merchant, as thou art, but say, how didst thou find it? I followed him, who was here before me, and gave him choice to go or to fight for the stronghold. But he needs must fight, and that was his bane, for I slew him. Who was that then? asked Eric, whose head lies yonder. A cave-dweller, Lord, whom I took to me because of the loneliness of the winter tide. He was an evil man, for though it is good to be berserk from time to time, yet to dwell with one who is always berserk is not good, and now didst a needful deed in smiting his head from him, and now let it go and find its trunk, and he rolled it over the edge of the great rift. Knowest thou, Scalagrim, that this head spoke to me after it had left the man's shoulders, saying that where its body fell there I should fall, and where it lay there I should lie also? Then, Lord, that is likely to be thy doom, for this man was foresighted, and, but the night before last, as we rode out to seek sheep, he felt his head and said that, before the sun sank again, a hundred fathoms of air should link it to his shoulders. It may be so, answered Eric, I thought as I lay in thy grip yonder that the fate was near, and now arm thyself and take such goods as thou needst, and let us hence, for that thrall of mine who waits me yonder will think thou has been too mighty for me. Scalagrim went to the edge of the rift and searched the plain with his hawk eyes. No need to hasten, Lord, he said. See, yonder rides thy thrall across the black sand, and with him goes thy horse. Surely he thought thou camest no more down the path by which thou wentest up, and it is not thrall's work to seek Scalagrim in his lair and ask for tidings. Wolves take him for a fool, said Eric in anger. He will ride to Middlehoff and sing my death song, and that will sound sadly in some ears. It is pleasant, Lord, said Scalagrim. When good tidings dog the heels of bad, and women folk can spare some tears and be little poorer. I have horses in a secret dell that I will show thee, and on them we will ride hence to Middlehoff, and there thou must claim peace for me. It is well, said Eric. Now arm thyself, for if thou goest with me, thou must make an end of thy bazaar ways, or keep them for the hour of battle. I will do thy bidding, Lord, said Scalagrim. Then he entered the cave and set a plain black steel helm upon his black locks, and a black chain-burny about his breast. He took the great axe head also, and fitted to it the half of another axe that lay among the weapons. Then he drew out a purse of money and a store of golden rings, and set them in a bag of otterskin, and buckled it about him. But the other goods he wrapped up in skins, and hid behind some stones which were at the bottom of the cave, purposing to come another time and fetch them. Then they went forth by that same perilous path which Eric had trod, and Scalagrim showed him how he might pass the rock in safety. A rough road this, said Eric, as he gained the deep cleft. Ye Lord, and till thou cameest one that none but wood folk have trodden. I would tread it no more, said Eric again, and yet that fellow thief of thine said that I should die here, and for a while his heart was heavy. Now Scalagrim Lamb's tale led him by secret paths to a dell rich in grass that is hid in the round of the mountain, and here three good horses were at feed. Then, going to a certain rock, he brought out bits and saddles, and they caught the horses, and, mounting them, rode away from Mosfell. Now Eric and his henchmen, Scalagrim the Bazaarck, rode four hours and saw nobody. Till at length they came to the brow of a hill that is named Horsehead Heights, and, crossing it, found themselves almost in the midst of a score of armed men who were about to mount their horses. Now we have company, said Scalagrim. Yes, and bad company, answered Eric, for yonder I spy Osbacher Blacktooth, and Gizur and Mord his sons, I and others, down and back to back, for they will show us little gentleness. Then they sprang to earth and took their stand upon a mound of rising ground, and the men rode towards them. I shall soon know what thy fellowship is worth, said Eric. Fear not, Lord, answered Scalagrim, hold thou thy head, and I will hold thy back. We are met in a good hour. Good or ill, it is likely to be a short one. Harken thou, if thou must turn bazaarck when sores begin to flash. At the least stand and be bazaarck where thou art, for if thou rushest on the foe, my back will be naked, and I must soon be sped. It shall be as thou sayest, Lord. Now men rode round them, but at first they did not know Eric because of the golden helm that hid his face in shadow. Who are ye? Called Osbacher. I think that thou should snow me, Blacktooth, Eric answered, for I set thee heels up in the snow but lately, or at the least thou wilt know this, and he drew great white fire. Thou mayest know me also, Osbacher, cried the bazaarck. Scalagrim men called me. Lamb's tale Eric Brideyes calls me, but once thou discall me unowned. Say, Lord, what tidings of Theruna? Now Osbacher shook his sword, laughing. I came out to seek one foe, and I have found two, he cried, Hark, and Eric, when thou art slain, I go hence to burn and kill at Middlehoff. Shall I bear thy head as a keepsake from thee to Kadruda? For thee, o'nound, I thought thee dead, but being yet alive, Theruna, my sweet love, sends thee this, and he hurled a spear at him with all his might. But Scalagrim catches the spear as it flies and hurls it back. It strikes right on the shield of Osbacher and pierces it, I and the burning and the shoulder that is beneath the burning, so that black tooth was made unmeat for fight and how'd with pain and rage. Go and bid Theruna draw that splinter forth, says Scalagrim, and heal the whole with kisses. Now Osbacher, writhing with his hurt, shouts to his men to slay the two of them, and then the fight begins. One rushes at Eric and smites at him with an axe. The blow falls on his shield and shears off the side of it, then strikes at the burning beneath, but lightly. In answer Eric sweeps low at him with white fire and cuts his leg from under him between knee and thigh, and he falls and dies. Another rushes in, down flashes white fire before he can smite, and the carl's shield is cloven through. Then he chooses to draw back and fights no more that day. Scalagrim slays a man and wounds another sore. A tall chief with a red scar on his face comes at bright eyes. Twice he faints at the head, while Eric watches, then lowers the sword beneath the cover of his shield and sweeps suddenly at Eric's legs. Bright eyes leaps high into the air, smiting downward with white fire as he leaps. And presently that chief is dead, shorn through shoulder to breast. Now Scalagrim slays another man and grows bazaar. He looks so fierce that men fall back from him. Two rush on Eric, one from either side. The sword of him on the right falls on his shield and sinks in. But bright eyes twist the shorn's shield so strongly that the sword is wrenched from the smiter's hand. Now the other sword is aloft above him, and that had been Eric's bane, but Scalagrim glances round and sees it about to fall. He has no time to turn, but dashes the hammer of his axe backward. It falls full on the swordsman's head and the head is shattered. That was well done, says Eric as the sword goes down. Not so ill, but it might be worse, growls Scalagrim. Presently all men drew back from those two, for they had had enough of white fire and the bazaar's axe. Ospecker sits on his horse, his shield pinned to his shoulder and curses aloud. Close in you cowards, he yells. Close in and cut them down. But no man stirs. Then Eric mocks them. There are but two of us, he says. Will no man try a game with me? Let it not be sung that twenty were overcome by two. Now Ospecker's son Mord hears, and he grows mad with rage. He holds his shield aloft and rushes on. But Gizur the Laman does not come, for Gizur was a coward. Scalagrim turns to meet Mord, but Eric says. This one for me, comrade, and steps forward. Mord strikes a mighty blow. Eric's shield is all but shattered and cannot stay it. It crashes through and falls full on the golden helm. Beating bright eyes to his knee. Now he is up again and blows fall thick and fast. Mord is a strong man, unwirried and skilled in war. And Eric's arm grows faint and his strength sinks low. Mord smites again and wounds him somewhat on the shoulder. Eric throws aside his cloven shield and, shouting, plies white fire with both arms. Mord gives before him, then rushes and smites. Eric leaps aside. Again he rushes and, low, bright eyes has dropped his point. And it stands a full span through the back of Mord. And instantly that was his bane. Now men rush to their horses, mount in hot haste and ride away, crying that these are trolls whom they have to do with here, not men. Scalagrim sees and the Bazarq fit takes him sore. With Axeloft he charges after them, screaming as he comes. There is one man, the same whom he had wounded. He cannot mount easily, and when the Bazarq comes, he still lies on the neck of his horse. The great axe wheels on high and falls. And it is told of this stroke that it was so mighty that the man and horse sank dead beneath it, cloven through and through. Then the fit leaves Scalagrim and he walks back, and they are alone with the dead and dying. Eric leans on white fire and speaks. Get thee gone, Scalagrim lamstail, he said. Get thee gone. It shall be as thou wilt, Lord. Answered the Bazarq. But I have not befriended thee so ill that thou shouldst fear for blows to come. I will keep no man with me who puts my word aside, Scalagrim. What did I bid thee? Was it not that thou shouldst have done with thy Bazarq ways, and where thou stoodest there thou shouldst spied? And see, thou didst forget my word swiftly. Now get thee gone. It is true, Lord, he said. He who serves must serve holy. And Scalagrim turned to seek his horse. Stay, said Eric, thou art a gallant man, and I forgive thee, but cross my will no more. We have slain several men, and Ospecher goes hence wounded. We have got honor, and they loss, and the greatest shame. Nevertheless, ill shall come of this to me, for Ospecher has many friends and will set a lawsuit on foot against me at the all-thing. The annual assembly of free men, which, in Iceland, performed the functions of a parliament and supreme court of law. And thou didst draw the first blood. Would that the spear had gone more home, said Scalagrim. Ospecher's time is not yet, answered Eric. Still, he has something by which to bear us in mind. End of chapter, recording by Brett Downey. Chapter 9 of Eric Brideyes by H. Ryder Haggard. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Brett Downey. Chapter 9. Hal Swanhill dealt with Gdruda. Now John, Eric's thrall, watched all night on Mosfell, but saw nothing except the light of white fire, as it smote the bazaar's head from his shoulders. He stayed there till daylight, much afraid. Then, making sure that Eric was slain, John rode hard and fast for Middelhoff, wither he came at evening. Gdruda was watching by the women's door. She strained her eyes towards Mosfell to catch the light gleaming on Eric's golden helm, and presently it gleamed indeed, white, not red. See? said Swanhill at her side. Eric comes. Not Eric, but his thrall, answered Gdruda, to tell us that Eric is sped. They waited in silence while John galloped towards them. What news of Brideyes? cried Swanhill. Little need to ask, said Gdruda, look at his face. Now John told his tale, and Gdruda listened, clinging to the doorpost, but Swanhill cursed him for a coward, so that he shrank before her eyes. Gdruda turned and walked into the hall, and her face was like the face of death. Men saw her, and Asmund asked why she wore so strange a mean. Then Gdruda sang this song. Up to Mosfell, battle-eager, rode helmed Brideyes to the fray. Back from Mosfell, battle-shunning, slunk young coward thrall Iween. Now shall maid Gdruda never know a husband's dear embrace. Widowed is she, sunken sorrow, Eric treads Valhalla's halls. And with this she walked from the stead, looking neither to the right nor to the left. Let the maid be, said Atly the Earl. Grief fares best alone, but my heart is sore for Eric. It should go ill with that bazaark if I might get a grip of him. That I will have before summer is gone, said Asmund, for the death of Eric seemed to him the worst of sorrows. Gdruda walked far, and, crossing Laxa by the stepping stones, climbed Stonefell till she came to the head of Golden Falls, for, like a stricken thing, she desired to be alone in her grief. But Swanhild saw her, and followed, coming on her as she sat watching the water thunder down the mighty cleft. Presently, Swanhild's shadow fell a-thwart her, and Gdruda looked up. What wouldst thou with me, Swanhild? she asked. I thought come to mock my grief. Nay, foster sister, for then I must mock my own. I come to mix my tears with thine. See, we loved Eric, thou and I, and Eric is dead. Let our hate be buried in his grave, whence neither may draw him back. Gdruda looked upon her coldly, for nothing could stir her now. Get thee gone, she said. Weep thine own tears, and leave me to weep mine. Not with thee will I mourn Eric. Swanhild frowned and bit her lip. I will not come to thee with words of peace a second time, my rival, she said. Eric is dead, but my hate that was born of Eric's love for thee lives on and grows, and its flower shall be thy death, Gdruda. Now that bright eyes is dead, I would feign follow him on his path, so, if thou listest, throw the gates wide. Gdruda answered, and heeded her no more. Swanhild went, but not far. On the further side of a knoll of grass she flung herself to earth, and grieved as her fierce heart might. She shed no tears, but sat silently, looking with empty eyes a down the past, and onward to the future, and finding no good therein. But Gdruda wept as the weight of her loss pressed in upon her, wept heavy, silent tears, and cried in her heart to Eric, who was gone, cried to death to come upon her, and bring her sleep or Eric. So she sat, and so she grieved till, quite outworn with sorrow, sleep stole upon her, and she dreamed. Gdruda dreamed that she was dead, and that she sat nigh to the golden door that is in Odin's house at Valhalla, by which the warriors pass and repass forever. There she sat, from age to age, listening to the thunder of ten thousand thousand tramping feet, and watching the fierce faces of the chosen as they marched out in armies to do battle in the Meads. And as she sat, at length, a one-eyed man, clad in gleaming garments, drew near and spoke to her. He was glorious to look on, and old, and she knew him for Odin, the Allfather. Whom seekest thou made Gdruda? He asked, and the voice he spoke with was the voice of waters. I seek Eric bright eyes, she answered, who passed hither a thousand years ago, and for love of whom I am heartbroken. Eric bright eyes, Thorgrimmer's son, quote Odin, I know him well. No brisker warrior enters at Valhalla's doors, and none shall do more service at the coming of the Grey Wolf Fenrir, the foe destined to bring destruction upon the Norse gods. Pass on and leave him to his glory and his god. Then in her dream she wept sore and prayed of Odin by the name of Freya, that he would give Eric to her for a little space. What will thou pay then, made Gdruda, said Odin? My life, she answered. Good, he said, for a night Eric shall be thine, then die, and let thy death be his cause of death. And Odin sang this song. Now, coarse choosing daughters, hearkened to the dread Allfather's word, when the gale of Spear's breath gathers, count not Eric midst the slain, till bright eyes once hath slumbered, wedded at Gdruda's side. Then, maidens, scream your battle call. Welled with foes, let Eric fall. And Gdruda awoke, but in her ears the mighty water still seemed to speak with Odin's voice, saying, Then, maidens, scream your battle call. Welled with foes, let Eric fall. She awoke from that face sleep and looked upwards and low, before her, with shattered shield and all besmeared with war's red rain, stood gold-helmed Eric. There he stood, great and beautiful to see, and she looked on him, trembling and amazed. Is it indeed thou, Eric? Or is it yet my dream? She said. I am no dream, surely, said Eric. But why lookest thou thus on me, Gdruda? She rose slowly. Me thought, she said, me thought that thou was dead at the hand of Skelligrim. And with a great cry she fell into his arms and lay there sobbing. It was a sweet sight thus to see Gdruda the fair, her head of gold pillowed on Eric's war-stained bernie, her dark eyes afloat with tears of joy. But not so thought Swanhild, watching. She shook in jealous rage, then crept away, and hit herself where she could see no more, lest she should be smitten with madness. Whence cameest thou? Ah, whence cameest thou? said Gdruda. I thought thee dead, my love, but now I dreamed that I prayed Odin, and he spared thee to me for a little. Well, and that he hath, though hardly, and he told her all that had happened, and how, as he rode with Skelligrim, who yet sat yonder on his horse, he caught sight of a woman seated on the grass and knew the color of the cloak. Then Gdruda kissed him for very joy, and they were happy each with each. For of all things that are sweet on earth, there is nothing more sweet than this, to find him we loved, and thought dead and cold, alive and at our side. And so they talked, and were very glad with the gladness of youth and love, till Eric said he must on to Middlehoff before the light failed, for he could not come on horseback the way that Gdruda took, but must ride round the shoulder of the hill, and moreover, he was spent with toil and hunger, and Skelligrim grew weary of waiting. Go, said Gdruda, I will be there presently. So he kissed her and went, and Swanhild saw the kiss and saw him go. Well, Lord, said Skelligrim, hast thou had thy fill of kissing? Not all together, answered Eric. They rode awhile in silence. I thought the maid seemed very fair, said Skelligrim. There are women less favored, Skelligrim. Rich bait for mighty fish, said Skelligrim. This I tell thee, that strive as thou mayest against thy fate, that maid will be thy bane and mine also. Things foredoomed will happen, said Eric, but if thou fiercest a maid, the cure is easy, depart from my company. Who was the other? asked the bazaar. She who crept and peered, listened, then crept back again, hid her face in her hands, and talked with a gray wolf that came to her like a dog. That must have been Swanhild, said Eric, but I did not see her. Ever does she hide like a rat in the thatch. And as for the wolf, he must be her familiar. For, like Groa, her mother, Swanhild plays much with witchcraft. Now I will away back to Gudruda, for my heart misdoubts me of this matter. Stay thou here till I come, Lambstale. And Eric turns and gallops back to the head of Goldfoss. When Eric left her, Gudruda drew yet nearer to the edge of the mighty falls, and seated herself on their very brink. Her breast was full of joy, and there she sat and let the splendor of the night and the greatness of the rushing sounds sink into her heart. Yonder shone the setting sun, poised, as it were, on Westman's distant peaks. And here sped the waters, and by that path Eric had come back to her. Yay, and there on Sheepsaddle was the road that he had trod down Goldfoss. But now he had slain one bazaarck, and one another to be his thrall. And they too alone had smitten the company of Ospecker, and come thence with honor and but little harmed. Surely no such man as Eric had ever lived, none so fair and strong and tender. And she was right happy in his love. She stretched out her arms towards him, whom but an hour gone she had thought dead. But who had lived to come back to her with honor and blessed his beloved name and laughed aloud in her joyousness of heart, calling, Eric, Eric. But Swanhild, creeping behind her, did not laugh. She heard Gadruda's voice and guessed Gadruda's gladness, and jealousy arose within her and rent her. Should this fair rival like to take her joy from her? Gray Wolf, Gray Wolf, what sayest thou? See now, if Gadruda were gone, if she rolled a corpse into those boiling waters, Eric might yet be hers, or if he were not hers, yet Gadruda's he could never be. Gray Wolf, Gray Wolf, what is thy counsel? Right on the brink of the great gulf sat Gadruda. One stroke and all would be ended. Eric had gone, there was no eye to see. None saved the Gray Wolfs. There was no tongue to tell the deed that might be done. Who could call her to account? The gods? Who were the gods? What were the gods? Were they not dreams? There were no gods save the gods of evil, the gods she knew and communed with. Gray Wolf, Gray Wolf, what is thy read? There sat Gadruda, laughing in the triumph of her joy, with the sunset glow shining on her beauty, and there behind her swan-held crept, crept like a fox upon his sleeping prey. Now she is there. I hear thee, Gray Wolf, back to my breast, Gray Wolf. Surely Gadruda heard something. She half turned her head, then again fell to calling aloud to the waters. Eric, beloved Eric, ah, is there ever a light like the light of thine eyes? Is there ever a joy like the joy of thy kiss? Swan-held heard, and her springs of mercy froze. Hate and fury entered her. She rose upon her knees and gathered up her strength. Seek, then, thy joy in goldfoss, she cried aloud, and with all her force she thrust. Gadruda fell afathom or more, then, with a cry. She clutched wildly at a little ledge of rock and hung there, her feet resting on the shelving bank. Thirty fathoms down swirled and poured and rolled the waters of golden falls. A fathom above, red in the red light of evening, lowered the pitiless face of swan-held. Gadruda looked beneath her and saw. Pale with agony she looked up and saw, but she said not. Let go, my rival, let go, cried swan-held. There is none to help thee, and none to tell thy tale. Let go, I say, and seek thy marriage bed in goldfoss. But Gadruda clung on and gazed upward with white face and piteous eyes. What? Art thou so feign of a moment's life? said swan-held. Then I will save thee from thyself, for it must be ill to suffer thus. And she ran to seek a rock. Now she finds one, and, staggering beneath its weight to the brink of the gulf, peers over. Still, Gadruda hangs. Space yawns beneath her, the waters roar in her ears. The red sky glows above. She sees swan-held come and shrieks aloud. Eric is there, though swan-held hears him not, for the sound of his horse's galloping feet is lost in the roar of waters. But that cry comes to his ears. He sees the poised rock, and all grows clear to him. He leaps from his horse, and even as he loses the stone, clutches swan-held's curdle and hurls her back. The rock bound sideways and presently is lost in the waters. Eric looks over. He sees Gadruda's white face gleaming in the gloom. Down he leaps upon the ledge, though this is no easy thing. Hold fast! I come! Hold fast! He cries. I can no more! Gasps, Gadruda, and one hand slips. Eric grasps the rock, and, stretching downward, grips her wrist, just as her hold loosens, he grips it, and she swings loose, her weight hanging on his arm. Now he must needs lift her up, and that with one hand, for the ledge is narrow, and he dare not loose his hold of the rock above. She swings over the great gulf, and she is senseless as one dead. He gathers all his mighty strength and lifts. His feet slip a little, then catch, and once more Gadruda swings. The sweat burst out upon his forehead, and his blood drums through him. Now it must be or not at all. Again he lifts, and his muscles strain and crack, and she lies beside him on the narrow ledge. All is not yet done. The brink of the cleft is the height of a man above him. There he must lay her, for he may not leave her to find aid, let she should wake and roll into the chasm. Loosing his hold of the cliff, he turns, facing the rock, and, bending over Gadruda, twists his hand in her kirtle below the breast and above the knee. Then once more Eric puts out his might, and draws her up to the level of his breast, and rests. Again with all his force, he lifts her above the crest of his helm, and throws her forward, so that now she lies upon the brink of the great cliff. He almost falls backwards at the effort, but clutching the rock he saves himself, and with a struggle gains her side, and lies there, panting like a wearied hound of chase. Of all trials of strength that ever were put on his might, Eric was one to say, this lifting of Gadruda was the greatest, for she was no light woman, and there was little to stand on, and almost nothing to cling to. Presently bright eyes rose and peered at Gadruda through the gloom. She still swooned. Then he gazed about him, but swan-hilled, the witch girl was gone. Then he took Gadruda in his arms, and, leading the horse, stumbled through the darkness, calling on Scalagrim. The bazaar answered, and presently his large form was seen looming in the gloom. Eric told his tale in few words. The ways of women kind are evil, said Scalagrim. But of all the deeds that I have known done at their hands, this is the worst. It had been well to hurl the wolf-witch from the cliff. I, well, said Eric, but that song must yet be sung. Now dimly lighted of the rising moon, by turns they bore Gadruda down the mountainside. Till at length, utterly foredone, they saw the fires of Middlehoff. End of chapter. Recording by Brett Downey. Chapter 10 of Eric Bright Eyes. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Brett Downey. Eric Bright Eyes by H. Ryder Haggard. Chapter 10. How Asmund Spoke with Swanhild. Now as the days went, though Atlee's ship was bound for sea, she did not sail. And it came about that the Earl sank ever deeper into the coils of Swanhild. He called to mine many wise saws, but these availed him little. For when love rises like the sun, wisdom melts like the mists. So at length it came to this, that on the day of Eric's coming back, Atlee went to Asmund the priest and asked him for the hand of Swanhild the fatherless in marriage. Asmund heard and was glad, for he knew well that things went badly between Swanhild and Gdruda, and it seemed good to him that seas should be set between them. Nevertheless, he thought it honest to warn the Earl that Swanhild was apart from other women. Thou dost great honour, Earl, to my foster daughter and my house, he said. Still, it behoozed me to move gently in this matter. Swanhild is fair and she shall not go hence a wife undoward. But I must tell thee this, that her ways are dark and secret, and strange and fiery are her moods, and I think that she will bring evil on the man who weds her. Now I love thee, Atlee, were it only for our youths' sake, thou art not altogether fit to mate with such a maid, for age has met thee on thy way. For, as thou would say, youth draws to youth as the tide to the shore, and falls away from Eld as the wave from the rock. Think, then, is it well that thou shouldst take her, Atlee? I have thought much and over much, answered the Earl, stroking his gray beard, but ships old and new drive before a gale. I, Atlee, and the new ship rides were the old one founders. A true reed, a heavy reed, Asmond, yet I am minded to sail this sea, and if it sinks me, well, I have known fair weather. Great longings have got hold of me, and I think the maid looks gently on me, and that things may yet go well between us. I have many things to give such as women love. At the least, if thou givest me thy good word, I will risk it, Asmond, for the bold thrower sometimes wins the stake. Only I say this, that if Swanhild is unwilling, let there be an end of my wooing, for I do not wish to take a bride who turns from my gray hairs. Asmond said that it should be so, and they made an end of talking just as the light faded. Now Asmond went out seeking Swanhild, and presently he met her near the stead. He could not see her face, and that was well, for it was not good to look on, but her mean was wondrous wild. Where hast thou been, Swanhild? He asked. Morning, Eric bright eyes, she made answer. It is meater for Gdruda to mourn over Eric than for thee, for her loss is heavy, Asmond said sternly. What hast thou to do with Eric? Little or much or all, read it as thou wilt, foster father. Still all wept for are not lost, nor all who are lost wept for. Little do I know of thy dark reeds, said Asmond. Where is Gdruda now? High is she or low? Sleeping or perchance awakened, not wreck eye. She also mourned for Eric, and we went nigh to mingling tears. Near together were brown curls and golden, and she laughed aloud. Thou art surely Faye, thou evil girl, said Asmond. I, foster father, Faye, yet is this but the first of my fathom. Here starts the road that I must travel, and my feet shall be read ere the journey's done. Leave thy dark talk, said Asmond, for to me it is as the wind song, and listen, a good thing has befallen thee. I, good beyond thy deserving. Is it so? Well, I stand greatly in need of good. What is thy tidings, foster father? This. At ly the Earl asked thee in marriage, and he is a mighty man, well honoured in his own land, and set higher, moreover, than I had looked for thee. I, answered Swanhild, set like the snow above the fells, set in the years that long are dead. Nay, foster father, this white bearded daughter is no mate for me. What? Shall I mix my fire with his frost? My breathing youth with the creeping palsy of his age? Never. If Swanhild weds, she weds not so. For it is better to go maiden to the grave, than thus to shrink and wither at the touch of eld. Now is at ly's wooing sped, and there's an end. Asmond heard, and grew wroth, for the matter seems strange to him, nor our maidens want thus to put aside the word of those set over them. There is no end, he said. I will not be answered thus by a girl who lives upon my bounty. It is my reed that thou wettest at ly, or else thou ghost hence. I have loved thee, and for that love's sake I have borne thy wickedness, thy dark secret ways and evil words. But I will be crossed no more by thee, Swanhild. Thou wouldst drive me, hence, with grow of my mother. Though perchance thou hast yet more reason to hold me dear, foster father. Fear not. I will go, perhaps further than thou thinkest. And once more Swanhild laughed and passed from him into darkness. But Asmond stood looking after her. Truly, he said in his heart, ill deeds are arrows that pierce him who shot them. I have sowed evilly, and now I reaped the harvest. What means she with her talk of Godruda and the rest? Now, as he thought, he saw men and horses draw near, and one man, whose helm gleamed in the moonlight, bore something in his arms. Who passes? He called. Eric bright eyes, Scalagrim lamstail, and Godruda, Asmond's daughter, answered a voice. Who art thou? Then Asmond, the priest, sprang forward, most glad at heart, for he never thought to see Eric again. Welcome, and thrice welcome, art thou, Eric? He cried. For, no, we deem thee dead. I have lately gone near to death, Lord, said Eric, for he knew the voice. But I am hail and whole, though somewhat weary. What has come to pass, then? asked Asmond. And why holdest thou Godruda in thy arms? Is the maid dead? Nay, she does but swoon. See, even now she stirs. And as he spake, Godruda awoke, shuddering, and with a little cry through her arms about the neck of Eric. He set her down and comforted her. Then once more turned to Asmond. Three things have come about, he said. First, I have slain one bazaar, and one another to be my thrall. And for him I crave thy peace, for he has served me well. Next, we too were set upon by Ospecker Blacktooth and his fellowship. And, fighting for our hands, have wounded Ospecker, slain more his son, and six other men of his following. That is good news and bad, said Asmond, since Ospecker will ask a great weirgild for these men, and that will be outlawed, Eric. Weirgild, the penalty for manslaying. That may happen, Lord. There is time enough to think of it. Now there are other tidings to tell. Coming to the head of Goldfoss, I found Gdruda, my betrothed, mourning my death and spoke with her. Afterwards I left her and presently returned again to see her hanging over the gulf and swan-hilled hurling rocks upon her to crush her. These are tidings in truth, said Asmond. Such tidings as my heart feared. Is this true, Gdruda? It is true, my father, answered Gdruda, trembling. As I sat on the brink of Goldfoss, swan-hilled crept behind me and thrust me into the gulf. There I clung above the waters and she brought a rock to hurl upon me when suddenly I saw Eric's face and after that my mind left me and I can tell no more. Now Asmond grew as one mad. He plucked at his beard and stamped on the ground. Made though she be, he cried. Yet shall swan-hilled's back be broken on the stone of doom for a witch and a murderous and her body hurled into the pool of faithless women and the earth will be well rid of her. Now Gdruda looked up and smiled. It would be ill to wreak such a vengeance on her, father, she said. And this would also bring the greatest shame on me and all our house. I am saved by the mercy of the gods and the might of Eric's arm and this is my counsel that nothing be told of this tale but that swan-hilled be sent away where she can harm us no more. She must be sent to the grave then, said Asmond and felt a thinking. Presently he spoke again. Vidyan man fall back. I would speak with you twain and Scalogram went grumbling. Harken now, Eric and Gdruda. Only an hour ago hath Atly the Good asked swan-hilled of me and marriage. But now I met swan-hilled here and her mean was wild. Still I spoke of a matter to her and she would have none of it. Now this is my counsel that choice be given to swan-hilled either that she go hence Atly's wife or take her trial in the doom ring. That will be bad for the Earl then, said Eric. Me thinks he is too good a man to be played on thus. Bairn first, then friend, answered Asmond. Now I will tell thee something that till this hour I have hidden from all for it is my shame. This swan-hilled is my daughter and therefore I have loved her and put away her evil deeds and she is half-sister to thee, Gadruda. See then how sore is my straight who must avenge daughter upon daughter. Knows thy son Bjorn of this? asked Eric. None knew till this hour except Groa and I. Yet I have feared it long, father, said Gadruda and therefore I have also borne with swan-hilled though she hates me much and has driven hard to draw my betrothed from me. Now thou canst only take one counsel and it is to give choice to swan-hilled of these two things though it is unworthy that Atlye should be deceived and at the best little good can come of it. Yet it must be done for honour is often slain of heavy need, said Asmond. But we must first swear this bazaar thrall of thine though little faith lives in bazaar's breast. Now Eric called to Scalagrim and charged him strictly that he should tell nothing of swan-hilled and of the wolf that he saw by her and of how Gadruda was found hanging over the gulf. Fear not, growled the berserk. My tongue is now my master's. What is it to me if women do their wickedness one on another? Let them work magic, hate and slay by stealth. So shall evil be lessened in the world. Peace, said Eric, if anything of this passes thy lips thou art no longer a thrall of mine and I give thee up to the men of thy quarter. And I cleave that wolf's head of thine down to thy hawk's eyes. But otherwise I give thee peace and will hold thee from harm wood-dweller as thou art, said Asmund. The berserk laughed. My hands will hold my head against ten such mannequins as thou art, priest. There was never but one man who might overcome me in fair fight. And there he stands and his bidding is my law. So waste no words and make not knittering threats against greater folk. And he slouched back to his horse. A mighty man and rough, said Asmund, looking after him. I like his looks little. Nevertheless, strong in battle, quote Eric. Had he not been at my back some six hours gone, by now the ravens had torn out these eyes of mine. Therefore, for my sake, bear with him. Asmund said it should be so. And then they passed on to the stead. Here Eric stripped off his harness, washed and bound up his wounds. Then, followed by Scalagrim, axe in hand, he came into the hall as men made ready to sit at meat. Now the tale of the mighty deeds that he had done, except that of the saving of Gdruda, had gone abroad. And as Brideyes came, all men rose, and with one voice shouted till the roof of the great hall rocked. Welcome, Eric Brideyes, the glory of the South! Only Bjorn, Asmund's son, bit his hand and did not shout, for he hated Eric because of the fame that he had won. Brideyes stood still till the clamor died, then said, Much noise for little deeds, brethren, it is true that I overthrew the Mosfell Bazaarx. See, here is one. And he turned to Scalagrim. I strangled him in my arms on Mosfell's brink, and that was something of a deed. Then he swore fealty to me, and we are blood, brethren, now. And therefore I ask peace for him, comrades, even from those whom he has wronged, or whose kin he has slain. I know this, that when thereafter we stood back to back and met the company of Osbacher Blacktooth, who came to slay us, I and Asmund also, and bear away Gadruder to be his wife, he wore it right gallantly till seven of their band lay stiff on horse-head heights, overthrown of us, and among them moored Blacktooth's son. And Osbacher himself went thence, sore smitten of this Scalagrim. Therefore, for my sake, do no harm to this man who was Bazaarx, but now is my thrall. And moreover, I beg the aid and friendship of all men of this quarter in those suits that will be laid against me at the all-thing for these slangs, which I hereby give out as done by my hand and by the hand of Scalagrim Lamstail, the Bazaarx. At these words, all men shouted again, but atly the earl sprang up from the high seat where Asmund had placed him, and, coming to Eric, kissed him, and drawing a gold chain from his neck, flung it about the neck of Eric, crying, Thou art a glorious man, Eric, bright eyes. I thought the world had no more of such a breed. Listen to my bidding. Come, thou to the earldom in the Orkneys, and be a son to me, and I will give thee all good gifts. And when I die, thou shalt sit in my seat after me. But Eric thought of Swanhild, who must go from Iceland as wife to Atly, and answered, Thou doest me great honor, earl, but this may not be. Where the fur is planted, there it must grow and fall. Iceland I love, and I will stay here among my own people till I am driven away. That may well happen, then, said Atly, for be sure Osspecker and his kin will not let the matter of these slayings rest. And I think that it will not avail thee much that thou smotest for thy known hand. Then come, thou and be my man. Where the norms lead, there I must follow, said Eric, and sat down to meet. Scaligram sat down also at the side bench, but men shrank from him, and he glowered on them in answer. Presently, Gadruda entered, and she seemed pale and faint. When he had done eating, Eric drew Gadruda onto his knee, and she sat there, resting her golden head upon his breast. But Swanhild did not come into the hall. Though ever earl Atly sought her dark face and lovely eyes of blue, and he wondered greatly how his wooing had sped. Still, at this time he spoke no more of it to Asmund. Now Scaligram drank much ale and glared about him fiercely, for he had this fault, that at times he was drunken. In front of him were two thralls of Asmunds. They were brothers and large-made men, and they watched Asmunds sheep upon the fells in winter. These two also grew drunk and jeered at Scaligram, asking him what atonement he would make for those use of Asmunds that he had stolen last yule, and how it came to pass that he, a bazaar, had been overthrown of an unarmed man. Scaligram bore their jibes for space as he drank on, but suddenly he rose and rushed at them, seizing a man's throats in either hand, thrust them to the ground beneath him and nearly choked them there. Then Eric ran down the hall and, putting out his strength, tore the bazaar from them. This, then, is thy peacefulness, thou wolf? Eric cried, thou art drunk. I, growled Scaligram, ale as many a man's doom. Have a care that it is not thine and mine, then, said Eric. Go sleep and know that if I see thee thus once more, I see thee not again. But after this, men jeered no more at Scaligram Lamb's Tale, Eric's thrall. End of chapter. Recording by Brett Downey. Chapter 11 of Eric Brideyes. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Brett Downey. Eric Brideyes by H. Ryder Haggard. Chapter 11. How Swan-Hilled bid farewell to Eric. Now, all this while, Asman sat deep in thought. But when, at length, men were sunk in sleep, he took a candle of fat and passed to the shut bed where Swan-Hilled slept alone. She lay on her bed and her curling hair was all about her. She was awake, where the light gleamed in her blue eyes and on a naked knife that was on the bed beside her, half hidden by her hair. What wouldst thou, foster father? She asked, rising in the couch. Asman closed the curtains, then looked at her sternly and spoke in a low voice. Thou art fair to be so vile a thing, Swan-Hilled, he said. Who now would have dreamed that heart of thine could talk with goblins and with werewolves? That those eyes of thine could bear to look on murder and those white hands find strength to do the sin? She held up her shapely arms and, looking on them, laughed. Would that they had been fashioned in a stronger mold? She said. May they wither in their woman's weakness. Else had the deed been done outright. Now my crime is as heavy upon me and nothing gained by it. Say what fate for me, foster father? The stone of doom and the pool where faithless women lie? Ah, then might Kudruta laugh indeed and I will not live to hear that laugh. See? And she gripped the dagger at her side. Along this bright edge runs the path to peace and freedom and, if need be, I will tread it. Be silent, said Asmond. This Kudruta, my daughter, whom thou wouldst have fowlly done to death, is thine own sister and it is she who, pitying thee, hath pleaded for thy life. I will not of her pity who have no pity, she answered. And this I say to thee who art my father. Shame beyond thee who has not dared to own thy child. Hath thou not been my child, swan-hilled, and had I not loved thee secretly as my child, be sure of this, I had long since driven thee hence for my eyes have been open to much that I have not seemed to see. But at length thy wickedness has overcome my love and I will see thy face no more. Listen, none have heard of this shameful deed of thine, save those who saw it and their tongues are sealed. Now I give thee choice. Wed, atly, and go or stand in the doom-ring and take thy fate. Have I not said, Father, while death may be sought otherwise, that I will never do this last? Nor will I do the first. I am not all of the tame breed of you Iceland folk. Other and quicker blood runs in my veins. Nor will I be sold in marriage to a daughter as a mare is sold at market. I have answered. Fool, think again, for I go not back upon my word. Wed, atly, or die by thy own hand, if thou wilt. There I will not gain say thee, or if thou fierest this, then anon in the doom-ring. Now Swanhill covered her eyes with her hands and shook the long hair about her face and it seemed wondrous fair to Asman the priest who watched. And as she sat thus it came into her mind that marriage is not the end of a young maid's life, that old husbands have been known to die and that she might rule this atly and his earldom and become a rich and honored woman, setting her sails in such fashion that when the wind turned it would fill them. Otherwise she must die. I die shamed and leave Ghadruda with her love. Suddenly she slipped from the bed to the floor of the chamber and, clasping the knees of Asman, looked up through the meshes of her hair while tears streamed from her beautiful eyes. I have sinned, she sobbed. I have sinned greatly against thee and my sister. Harkon, I was mad with love of Eric, whom from a child I have turned to and Ghadruda is fairer than I and she took him from me. Most of all I was mad this night when I wrought the deed of shame for ill things counseled me, things that I did not call. And oh, I thank the gods, if there are gods, that Ghadruda died not at my hand. See now, Father, I put this evil from me and tear Eric from my heart and she made as though she rent her bosom. I will wed atly and be a good housewife to him and I crave but this of Ghadruda, that she forgive me her wrong, for it was not done of my will but of my madness and of the driving of those whom my mother taught me to know. Asman listened and the springs of his love thawed within him. Now thou dost take good counsel, he said, and of this be sure, that so long as thou art in that mood, none shall harm thee. And for Ghadruda she is the most gentle of women and it may well be that she will put away thy sin. So weep no more and have no more dealings with thy Finnish witchcraft, but sleep, and to-morrow I will bear thy word to atly, for his ship is bound and thou must swiftly be made a wife. He went out, bearing the light with him, but Swanhild rose from the ground and sat on the edge of the bed, staring into the darkness and shuddering from time to time. I shall soon be made his wife, she murmured, who would be but one man's wife, and he thinks I shall soon be made a widow also. Thou wilt have me, daughtered, take me and thy fate. Well, well, better to wed an earl than to be shamed and stretched across the doom-stone. Oh, weak arms that failed me at my need, no more will I put my trust in you. When next I wound, it shall be with the tongue. When next I strive to slay, it shall be by another's hand. Curses on thee, thou ill counselor of darkness, who dits betray me at the last. Is it for this that I worship thee and swore the oath? The morning came, and at the first light Asmund sought the earl. His heart was heavy because of the guile that his tongue must practice, and his face was dark as a winter dawn. What news, Asmund? asked Atly. Early tidings are bad tidings, so runs the saw, and thy looks give weight to it. Not altogether bad, earl. Swanhild gives herself to thee. Of her own will, Asmund? I, of her own will, but I have warned thee of her temper. Her temper? Little hangs to a maid's temper. Once a wife, and it will melt in softness like the snow when summer comes. These are glad tidings, comrade, and me thinks I grow young again beneath the breath of them. Why art thou so glum, then? There is something that must yet be told of Swanhild, said Asmund. She is called the fatherless, but, if thou wilt have the truth, why here it is for thee. She is my daughter, born out of wedlock, and I know not how that will please thee. Atly laughed aloud, and his bright eye is shown in his wrinkled face. It pleases me well, Asmund, for then the maid is sprung from a sound stock. The name of the priest of Middelhoff is famous far south of Iceland, and never that Iceland bred a cumblier girl. Is that all? One more thing, earl. This I charge thee. Watch thy wife, and hold her back from witchcraft. And from dealings with evil things and trolls of darkness. She is of Finnish blood, and the women of the Finns are much given to such wicked work. I set little store by which work goblins and their kin, said Atly. I doubt me much of their power, and I shall soon wean Swanhild from such ways, if indeed she practised them. Then they fell to talking of Swanhild's stour, and that was not small. Afterwards Asmund sought Eric and Gdruda, and told them what had come to pass, and they were glad at the news, though they agreed for Atly the earl. And when Swanhild met Gdruda, she came to her humbly, and humbly kissed her hand, and with tears grave pardon of her evil doing. Saying that she must have been mad, nor did Gdruda withhold it, for of all women she was the gentlest and most forgiving. But to Eric, Swanhild said nothing. The wedding feast must be held on the third day from this, for Atly would sail on that same day, since his people weiried of waiting, and his ship might lie bound no longer. Bly the was Atly the earl, and Swanhild was all changed, for now she seemed the gentlest of maids. And as befitted one about to be maid-wife, moved through the house with soft words and downcast eyes. But Scalagrim, watching her, bethought him of the grey wolf that he had seen by Goldfoss, and this seemed not well to him. It would be bad now, he said to Eric as they rolled to coldback, to stand in young earl's shoes. This woman's weather has changed too fast, and after such a calm there'll come a storm indeed. I am now minded of Thoruna, for she went just so the day before she gave herself to Osbecker, and me to shame and bonds. Talk not of the raven till you hear his croak, said Eric. He is on the wing, Lord, answered Scalagrim. Now Eric came to coldback in the marsh, and Savuna, his mother, and Una, Thorud's daughter, the betrothed of Asmund, were glad to welcome him. For the tidings of his mighty deeds and of the overthrow of Osbecker, and the slaying of Mord were noised far and wide. But at Scalagrim lamstail they looked to scance. Still, when they heard of those things that he had wrought on horse-head heights, they welcomed him for his deed's sake. Eric sat two nights at coldback, and on the second day Savuna, his mother, and Una rode thence with their servants to the wedding feast of Swanhill the Fatherless. But Eric stopped at coldback that night, saying that he would be at Middlehoff within two hours of sunrise, for he must talk with a shepherd who came from the fells. Savuna and her company came to Middlehoff and was asked, first by Gadruda, then by Swanhill, why bright eyes tarried? She answered that he would be there early on the morrow. Next morning, before it was light, Eric girded on white fire, took horse and rode from coldback alone, for he would not bring Scalagrim, fearing lest he should get drunk at the feast, and shed some man's blood. It was Swanhill's wedding day, but she greeted it with little lightsomeness of heart, and her eyes knew no sleep that night, though they were heavy with tears. At the first light she rose, and, gliding from the house, walked through the heavy dew down the path by which Eric must draw near, for she desired to speak with him. Gadruda also rose a while after, though she did not know this, and followed on the same path, for she would greet her lover at his coming. Now three furlongs or more from the stead stood a vetch stack, and Swanhill waited on the further side of this stack. Presently she heard a sound of singing come from behind the shoulder of the fell, and of the tramp of a horse's hoofs. Then she saw the golden wings of Eric's helm all ablaze with the sunlight as he rode merrily along, and great bitterness lay hold of her that Eric could be of such a joyous mood on the day when she who loved him must be made the wife of another man. Presently he was before her, and Swanhill stepped from the shadow of the stack and laid her hand upon his horse's bridle. Eric, she said humbly and with bowed head, Gadruda sleeps yet. Can't thou then find time to harken to my words? He frowned and said, Me think, Swanhill, it would be better if thou gavest thy words to him who is thy lord. She let the bridle rain drop from her hands. I am answered, she said, Right on. Now pity stirred in Eric's heart, for Swanhill's mean was most heavy, and he leaped down from his horse. Nay, he said, Speak on if thou hast anything to tell me. I have this to tell the Eric, that now before we part for ever, I am come to ask thy pardon for my ill doing. I, and to wish all joy to thee and thy fair love. And she sobbed and choked. Speak no more of it, Swanhill, he said, But let thy good deeds cover up the ill, which are not small, so thou shalt be happy. She looked at him strangely, and her face was white with pain. How, then, are we so differently fashioned that thou, Eric, can't spray to me of happiness when my heart is wracked with grief? O Eric, I blame thee not, for thou hast not wrought this evil on me willingly. But I say this, that my heart is dead. As I would that I were dead. See those flowers, they smell sweet, for me they have no odor. Look on the light, leaping from cold back to the sea, from the sea to West Meniles, and from the Westmen crown of rocks, far into the wide heavens above. It is beautiful, is it not? Yet I tell the Eric, that now to my eyes howling winter darkness is every wit as fair. Joy is dead within me. Musics but a jangled madness in my ears. Food hath no savor on my tongue. My youth is bed ere my dawn is day. Nothing is left to me, Eric, save this fair body that thou didst scorn, and the dreams which I may gather from my hours of scanty sleep, and such shame as befalls a loveless bride. Speak not so, Swan-Hilled, he said, and clasped her by the hand, for, though he loathed her wickedness, being soft-hearted and but young, it grieved him to hear her words, and see the anguish of her mind. For it is so with men that they are easily moved by the pleading of a fair woman who loves them, even though they love her not. Yea, I will speak out all my mind before I seal it up for ever. See, Eric, this is my state, and thou has set this crown of sorrows on my brows, and thou comest singing down the fell, and I go weeping o'er the sea. I am not all so ill at heart. It was love of thee that drove me down to sin, as love of thee might otherwise have lifted me to holiness. But, loving thee as thou seest, this day I wed a daughter, and go his chattel and his bride across the sea, and leave thee singing on the fell, and by thy side her who is my foe. Thou hast done great deeds, bright eyes, and still greater shalt thou do, yet but as echoes they shall reach my ears. Thou wilt be to me as one dead, for it is gedrudus to bind thy burning on thy breast when thou goest forth to war, and hers to loose the winged helm from thy brow when thou returnest, battle-worn and conquering. Now Swanhilt ceased, and choked with grief, then spoke again. So now, farewell, doubtless I weary thee, and gedruda waits. Nay, look not on my foolish tears, they are the heritage of woman, of not else is she sure. While I live, Eric, more and by more in the thought of thee shall come to wake me, as the sun wakes yon snowy peak, and night by night thy memory shall pass as at eve he passes from the valleys but to dawn again in dreams. For, Eric, tis thee I wed today, at heart. I am thy bride, thine and thine only, and when shalt thou find a wife who holds thee so dear as that Swanhilt, whom wants thou a newest. So now, farewell. Yes, this time thou shalt kiss away my tears, and let them stream for ever. Thus, Eric, and thus, and thus, do I take farewell of thee. And now she clung about his neck, gazing on him with great, dewy eyes, till things grew strange and dim, and he must kiss her, if only for her love and tender beauty's sake. And so he kissed, and it chanced that as they clung thus, gedruda, passing by this path to give her betrothed greeting, came upon them and stood astonished. Then she turned, and putting her hands to her head, fled back swiftly to the stead, and waited there, great anger burning in her heart, for gedruda had this fault, that she was very jealous. Now Eric and Swanhilt did not see her, and presently they parted, and Swanhilt wiped her eyes and glided thence. As she drew near the stead, she found gedruda watching. Where has thou been, Swanhilt? she said. To bid farewell to bright eyes, gedruda. Then thou art foolish, for doubtless he thrust thee from him. Nay, gedruda, he drew me to him. Harken, I say thou, sister, vex me not, for I go my ways, and thou goest thine. Thou art strong and fair, and hitherto thou hast overcome me. But I am also fair, and if I find space to strike in, I also have a show of strength. Pray thou that I find not space, gedruda. Now is Eric thine, for chance one day he may be mine. It lies in the lap of the Norns. Fair words from Atly's bride, mocked gedruda. I, Atly's bride, but never Atly's love, said Swanhilt and swept on. A while after Eric rode up, he was shame-faced and vexed at heart, because he had yielded thus to Swanhilt's beauty, and had been melted by her tender words and kissed her. Then he saw gedruda, and at the sight of her all thought of Swanhilt passed from him, for he loved gedruda and her alone. He leapt down from his horse and ran to her, but, drawn to her full height, she stood with dark flashing eyes and fair face set in anger. Still he would have greeted her lover-wise, but she lifted her hand and waved him back, and fear took hold of him. What now, gedruda? he asked, faltering. What now, Eric? she answered, faltering not. Has seen Swanhilt? Yay, I have seen Swanhilt. She came to bid farewell to me. What of it? What of it? Why, thus and thus and thus, didst thou bid farewell to Atlas's bride? I, thus and thus, with clinging lips and twined arms. Warm and soft was thy farewell kiss to her who would have slain me, bright eyes. gedruda, thou speakest truth. Though how thou sawest, I know not. Think no ill of it, and scourge me not with words, or soothe to say, I was melted by her grief and the music of her talk. It is shame to thee, so to speak of her, whom but now thou heldest in thine arms. By the grief and the music of the talk of her, who would have murdered me, thou was melted into kisses, Eric? For I saw it with these eyes. Knowest thou what I am minded to say to thee? It is this. Go hence and see me no more, or I have little wish to cleave to such a feather-man, to one so blown about by the first breath of woman's tempting. Yet, me things, gedruda, I have withstood some such wins. I tell thee that, hath thou been in my place, thyself haths yielded to Swanhild and kissed her in farewell, for she was more than woman in that hour. Nay, Eric, I am no weak man to be led astray thus. Yet she is more than woman. Troll is she also, that I know. But less than man art thou, Eric, thus to fall before her who hates me. Time may come when she shall woo thee after a stronger sort, and what wilt thou say to her then, thou who art so ready with thy kisses? I will withstand her, gedruda, for I love thee only, and this is well known to thee. Truly I know thou lovest me, Eric, but tell me of what worth is this love of man that eyes of beauty and tongue of craft may so readily beray. I doubt me of thee, Eric. Nay, doubt me not, gedruda, I love thee alone, but I grew soft as wax beneath her pleading. My heart consented not, yet I did consent. I have no more to say. Now gedruda looked on him long and steadfastly. Thy plight is sorry, Eric, she said, and this once I forgive thee. Look to it that thou givest me no more cause to doubt thee, for then I shall remember how thou did spit farewell to Swanhild. I will give none, he answered, and would have embraced her, but this she would not suffer then, nor for many days after, for she was angry with him. But with Swanhild she was still more angry, though she said nothing of it. That Swanhild had tried to murder her, gedruda could forgive, for there she had failed, but not that she had won Eric to kiss her, for in this she had succeeded well. End of chapter recording by Brett Downey