Tales of a Wayside Inn Part 10

So upon Easter day Sailed the three kings away, Out of the sheltered bay, In the bright season; With them Earl Sigvald came, Eager for spoil and fame; Pity that such a name Stooped to such treason!

Safe under Svald at last, Now were their anchors cast, Safe from the sea and blast, Plotted the three kings; While, with a base intent, Southward Earl Sigvald went, On a foul errand bent, Unto the Sea-kings.

Thence to hold on his course, Unto King Olaf's force, Lying within the hoa.r.s.e Mouths of Stet-haven; Him to ensnare and bring, Unto the Danish king, Who his dead corse would fling Forth to the raven!

XVIII.

KING OLAF AND EARL SIGVALD.

On the gray sea-sands King Olaf stands, Northward and seaward He points with his hands.

With eddy and whirl The sea-tides curl, Was.h.i.+ng the sandals Of Sigvald the Earl.

The mariners shout, The s.h.i.+ps swing about, The yards are all hoisted, The sails flutter out.

The war-horns are played, The anchors are weighed, Like moths in the distance The sails flit and fade.

The sea is like lead, The harbor lies dead, As a corse on the sea-sh.o.r.e, Whose spirit has fled!

On that fatal day, The histories say, Seventy vessels Sailed out of the bay.

But soon scattered wide O'er the billows they ride, While Sigvald and Olaf Sail side by side.

Cried the Earl: "Follow me!

I your pilot will be, For I know all the channels Where flows the deep sea!"

So into the strait Where his foes lie in wait, Gallant King Olaf Sails to his fate!

Then the sea-fog veils The s.h.i.+ps and their sails; Queen Sigrid the Haughty, Thy vengeance prevails!

XIX.

KING OLAF'S WAR-HORNS.

"Strike the sails!" King Olaf said; "Never shall men of mine take flight; Never away from battle I fled, Never away from my foes!

Let G.o.d dispose Of my life in the fight!"

"Sound the horns!" said Olaf the King; And suddenly through the drifting brume The blare of the horns began to ring, Like the terrible trumpet shock Of Regnarock, On the Day of Doom!

Louder and louder the war-horns sang Over the level floor of the flood; All the sails came down with a clang, And there in the mist overhead The sun hung red As a drop of blood.

Drifting down on the Danish fleet Three together the s.h.i.+ps were lashed, So that neither should turn and retreat; In the midst, but in front of the rest The burnished crest Of the Serpent flashed.

King Olaf stood on the quarter-deck, With bow of ash and arrows of oak, His gilded s.h.i.+eld was without a fleck, His helmet inlaid with gold, And in many a fold Hung his crimson cloak.

On the forecastle Ulf the Red Watched the las.h.i.+ng of the s.h.i.+ps; "If the Serpent lie so far ahead, We shall have hard work of it here,"

Said he with a sneer On his bearded lips.

King Olaf laid an arrow on string, "Have I a coward on board?" said he.

"Shoot it another way, O King!"

Sullenly answered Ulf, The old sea-wolf; "You have need of me!"

In front came Svend, the King of the Danes, Sweeping down with his fifty rowers; To the right, the Swedish king with his thanes; And on board of the Iron Beard Earl Eric steered On the left with his oars.

"These soft Danes and Swedes," said the King, "At home with their wives had better stay, Than come within reach of my Serpent's sting: But where Eric the Norseman leads Heroic deeds Will be done to-day!"

Then as together the vessels crashed, Eric severed the cables of hide, With which King Olaf's s.h.i.+ps were lashed, And left them to drive and drift With the currents swift Of the outward tide.

Louder the war-horns growl and snarl, Sharper the dragons bite and sting!

Eric the son of Hakon Jarl A death-drink salt as the sea Pledges to thee, Olaf the King!

XX.

EINAR TAMBERSKELVER.

It was Einar Tamberskelver Stood beside the mast; From his yew-bow, tipped with silver, Flew the arrows fast; Aimed at Eric unavailing, As he sat concealed, Half behind the quarter-railing, Half behind his s.h.i.+eld.

First an arrow struck the tiller, Just above his head; "Sing, O Eyvind Skaldaspiller,"

Then Earl Eric said.

"Sing the song of Hakon dying, Sing his funeral wail!"

And another arrow flying Grazed his coat of mail.

Turning to a Lapland yeoman, As the arrow pa.s.sed, Said Earl Eric, "Shoot that bowman Standing by the mast."

Sooner than the word was spoken Flew the yeoman's shaft; Einar's bow in twain was broken, Einar only laughed.

"What was that?" said Olaf, standing On the quarter-deck.

"Something heard I like the stranding Of a shattered wreck."

Einar then, the arrow taking From the loosened string, Answered, "That was Norway breaking From thy hand, O king!"

"Thou art but a poor diviner,"

Straightway Olaf said; "Take my bow, and swifter, Einar, Let thy shafts be sped."

Of his bows the fairest choosing, Reached he from above; Einar saw the blood-drops oozing Through his iron glove.

But the bow was thin and narrow; At the first a.s.say, O'er its head he drew the arrow, Flung the bow away; Said, with hot and angry temper Flus.h.i.+ng in his cheek, "Olaf! for so great a Kamper Are thy bows too weak!"

Then, with smile of joy defiant On his beardless lip, Scaled he, light and self-reliant, Eric's dragon-s.h.i.+p.

Loose his golden locks were flowing, Bright his armor gleamed; Like Saint Michael overthrowing Lucifer he seemed.

XXI.

KING OLAF'S DEATH-DRINK.

All day has the battle raged, All day have the s.h.i.+ps engaged, But not yet is a.s.suaged The vengeance of Eric the Earl.

The decks with blood are red, The arrows of death are sped, The s.h.i.+ps are filled with the dead, And the spears the champions hurl.