Saga of Halfred the Sigskald Part 15

"And all becomes clear and bright to my thoughts. I can see inwardly again how all has been, now that I can no longer see outward things.

"And for thee, and for myself, before I die, I will set forth clearly and exactly how all has been. Give me once again milk from thy flock to drink."

And I gave him to drink, and he laid his head again upon my knee, and began to tell me, quite clearly and distinctly, all that had come to pa.s.s since that midsummer night.

And from his lips have I learned all, onward from that midsummer night, which in the earlier pages of this book I have written out. And much have I also learned from him, of those earlier times of which my foster parents could know nothing.

And I have kept it all in faithful remembrance.

And as the evening fell he came to the end of his account, and he said,

"Lay my face so that once more the sun shall s.h.i.+ne upon it. Fain would I feel the dear Lord once again."

And I did as he commanded.

And he breathed deeply, and said:

"It must certainly be spring. A perfume of wild roses floats to me."

And I told him that he lay under a blooming rose-bush.

And then a blackbird raised his sweet song from the bush.

"Thus I hear once more the blackbird's evening song," said Halfred.

"Now farewell all. Sun and sea, forest and stars of heaven, wild rose perfume, and songs of birds; and farewell to thee, my dear son. I thank thee that thou hast released me from madness, and an evil life.

"I can, to requite thee, as all my heritage, leave thee only this hammer. Guard it faithfully.

"Whether there be G.o.ds--I know not. Methinks that men can never search it out. But I tell thee, my son, whether G.o.ds live or not, hammer throwing, and harp playing, and suns.h.i.+ne, and the kiss of woman, these are the rewards of life.

"Mayest thou win a wife who is but a faint reflection of Thora.

"Then hail to thee, my son!

"Bury me here, where mingles the roar of the forest and the sea.

"Farewell my dear son. Dame Harthild's curse thou hast turned for me into a blessing."

And he died.

The blackbird ceased singing in the bush. And as the sun sank, one warm full flood of his rays streamed full upon that mighty face.

Thus died the son of Oski.

CHAPTER XVIII.

When now my dear father was dead, whom I myself had slain, I wept bitterly, and lay all night by the side of the dead.

And when the sun again arose I considered what I should now do.

At first I thought I would drive the flock to the monastery, which lay some six stages distant, and relate all to the monks, and confess how I had, all unwittingly, slain my own father; and beg for absolution for myself, and for a Christian grave for my dear father.

But I bethought me that the monks would not bury my father with Christian honours, since he had died a heathen. And neither would they allow me to burn him, after the custom of the heathen people, because the heathen G.o.ds would thus be brought much into remembrance. And they would certainly throw him, unhonoured, into the sea, as they had already done to a heathen from Zealand.

So I resolved to be silent about it all, and not to betray my dear dead father to the priests.

And thus could I neither confess the death blow, nor receive counsel respecting my guiltless crime.

And from thence was the beginning of my freeing my mind from the monks and their creed.

And I knew, quite near, of a cavern, which was known only to me, for it had a very small entrance, and I had only discovered it because I had followed a stone marten which had slipped into it. A fallen block of stone concealed the entrance, and I found many ashes and remnants of bones within the s.p.a.cious cavern, which opened towards the sea. In early days, no doubt, the heathen Scots had burnt their dead here.

Thither I carried, not without much difficulty, my dear dead father, and set him upright in the cavern, his face turned towards the sea. The roots of the oaks and ashes which waved above the cavern, penetrated through the stone downwards almost to his head. Above him roared the forest, before him roared the sea. There did I place my dear father, and rolled the stone again to the entrance.

But even his hammer, his only possession, I dared not keep. Even should I tell the monks I had found it, or bought it from sailors--they would not have left it with me, for strong heathen victory runes were engraved on the haft.

So I laid then the hammer also close to the right hand of the dead.

"Guard it for me, dear father," I said, "till I need it again. Then will I fetch it."

But from that hour there came a great change over my disposition.

That which had most delighted me, to fight for my sheep with wolves, bears, and birds of prey--that attracted me no more.

Rather the question which had driven my dear father even to madness, if there be a G.o.d, or G.o.ds? And how it could be that such fearful things should come to pa.s.s as are here set down in this history, from the vow upon the Bragi cup, on to this great horror, that the son had slain his own father. These questionings seized upon me, and would not let me rest, any more than my dear father.

And as my dear father of yore looked up to the stars, and implored the heathen G.o.ds for enlightenment, so also did I look up to the stars for illumination, praying to Christ and the saints.

But to me also the heavens were dumb.

Then I said to myself--"Here on the sheep pastures, and from the roar of the sea, and from the light of the stars, wilt thou find no answer all thy life long, any more than thy dear father.

"But in the books of the monks, the Latin ones and those others, with the crinkled runic flourishes, lie hidden all holy and worldly wisdom.

"And when thou can'st read them, all will be clear to thee in heaven and upon earth."

And so I took leave of my dear father, gathered my sheep together, and drove them to the monastery.

"Art thou gone mad, Irenaeus?" asked the porter, as he opened the door for me and my bleating charge, "that thou drivest home before shearing time. They will scourge thee again."

"I was mad," I replied, "but now I will become a scholar. Now another may scare the wolves. I will learn Greek."

And thus I also said to the good Abbot Aelfrik, before whom I was at once led for chastis.e.m.e.nt.

But he said--