Saga of Halfred the Sigskald Part 5

"Come hither to me all Halfred's comrades. Quit the hall. Save the Swan!"

And with a mighty onslaught, swinging his hammer round his head, he burst through the ranks of the men who had already renewed the battle in the hall.

Hartvik and Eigil followed on his track, and many of his own people, and also of the enemy.

But those who did not leave the drinking hall with him were almost all at once numbered with the dead. For with a heavy crash, close behind Halfred, fell the whole burning roof into the hall.

Halfred glanced back in his rapid course. High upwards shot the blaze, mingling with sound of shrieks from hundreds slain. Then all was silent in the midsummer feast hall.

Halfred rushed on, followed by friends and foes, past his father's house. He saw the flames creeping up the pillars; within rose the din of raging conflict; on the threshold lay a slaughtered servant girl.

Soon Halfred and his comrades reached the bay, where the battle surged around the high-decked s.h.i.+ps. Many were burning. Many dragon's heads seemed to vomit fire and smoke.

Around the Singing Swan, however, raged the battle most furiously. In dense ma.s.ses the enemy thronged round her, wading, swimming, in boats and on rafts, they crowded on; others hurled spears and arrows from the sh.o.r.e at her defenders, and more than one burning arrow had struck and set fire to her.

The left wing of the ingeniously carved Swan was on fire; tongues of fire were creeping up ropes and sails--just as Halfred arrived they caught the mast.

Then grief and fury seized upon him. His temple veins swelled almost to the size of a child's finger.

"Quench, quench the flames! All hands on deck! Save the Swan! Cut the anchor-cable. Put out to sea. Fight no more. I will fight for you all."

His faithful followers obeyed him. The seamen left off fighting, and laboured only to quench the flames, in which also they soon succeeded, as no more arrows flew from the land, and the foe were forced to leave the s.h.i.+p.

For Halfred raged furiously, as none had ever seen him fight. With a loud battle-cry he sprang upon the people of Westgothaland and Tiunderland, and struck them down one after another.

Loyally aided him Hartvik and Eigil, his blood brethren, and spared not even their own countrymen and kindred; but thought rather on the blood oath which bound them more closely to Halfred than to their own kinsmen.

And the foe fell back before Halfred and his comrades, from the open field into the dwelling house, which was half burned down, and barricaded it.

And thus he stormed his own house, in which the people from Westgothaland had before overcome the house churls and the East Goths, and slain them all.

Yet a whole hour lasted the conflict. There Halfred, on the threshold of his house, slew the Danish Jarl Sveno, the last chieftain of the enemy who still lived, and pressed into the house with his men.

The people from Westgothaland, Zealand, and Tiunderland, defended themselves like bears at bay. But at last they were all slain. And from thence Halfred returned to the Mead hall, which was still glowing, and searched who there still lived.

But there, also, all were dead.

And they found the bodies of King Hartstein, and Sudha, and of the Dane Hako, and the two Irishmen, Konal and Kiartan, of the Eastgothic Prince Helge--Helgrimr had fallen on board s.h.i.+p--and of Arngeir and Arnbiorn--Arnolfr had been slain in the dwelling house--and they found Vandrad the Skald at the point of death.

Then he told Halfred how Sudha had prevailed upon him to speak, and begged him to forgive him the death of so many heroes. And Halfred held his hand until he was dead.

But Dame Harthild's body they did not find, although many of her women lay burnt or slain in the dwelling-house.

But many bodies were so burnt and charred they could not be recognised.

And then they turned their search to the s.h.i.+ps.

And all the s.h.i.+ps of the foreign guests were burnt, and all those of the Icelanders which lay in the bay. For at the last, by reason of Halfred's furious attack, no one had thought any more about extinguis.h.i.+ng them.

And Halfred, with his trumpet, hailed the Singing Swan, which floated saved in the moonlight, and went on board with his little troop.

And there lay slain many hundreds of Halfred's Icelanders,

The foreign guests, however, who had come to the midsummer feast, lay all all dead, save only Hartvik and Eigil.

And Halfred counted when he called all hands before the mast still seventy men alive.

All the rest had fallen in that one midsummer night. And there fell after that wild tumult an awful stillness upon land and sea. And sad and silent floated the Singing Swan, with scorched sails, upon the Fjord.

CHAPTER IX.

And Halfred has sunk into deep deep silence. Since the fight had ended, and he had heard Vandrad's dying words, he had not spoken a word.

But when it was full daylight the Singing Swan drew near the land, and the men came ash.o.r.e.

Silently Halfred signed to his sailing comrades to carry out all the bodies from the drinking hall, the dwelling-house, and the s.h.i.+ps; and to collect them altogether on the sh.o.r.e. He had seven funeral piles erected, and upon these all the dead were burned with their weapons.

The ashes, however, of friends and foes Halfred ordered them to mingle.

And these he poured himself into a great stone-lined grave which he had had dug on the sh.o.r.e, hard by the water line. And he had earth heaped thickly upon them, and a huge black block of stone which had once been thrown out of Hekla rolled thereon. And this cost many days work.

But Halfred spoke not. And all through the nights he sat upon the grave and looked now upwards to the stars of the summer night, now downwards rigidly upon the earth, and the stone grave. And gently gently he oftimes shook his head.

But he spoke no word.

And when after seven nights the sun arose, Hartvik and Eigil drew near to him, as he sat upon the stone, and then Hartvik spoke--

"Halfred, my blood brother, a great calamity has befallen to thee, to me, to us. Father and sister and many friends have I lost, and Eigil has also lost many who were dear to him. We must bear it, all three.

Come, Halfred, Sigskald, arouse thyself! This silence and brooding is evil. Dwelling-house and Mead hall the fire has burnt--the axe will build them up. Harps, there are many still upon the earth, and the Singing Swan spreads out her hardly singed pinions. Come, Halfred, drink! Here I have brought thee from the Greek spoils of the Singing Swan a cup of Chios wine, which thou ever lovedst. Drink, speak, and live!"

Halfred stood up with a sigh, took the cup from Hartvik's hand, and poured the wine slowly upon the grave; the earth drank it greedily in.

"Come hither again about midnight. Then will I give ye an answer. I cannot even yet think clearly. Once more will I ask the G.o.ds who dwell in the stars if they even yet deny me an answer."

And he sat down again upon the stone, and covered his face with his hands.

And when about midnight the two came, Halfred pointed towards the heavens--

"There are so many thousand thousand stars, but they are all dumb to me.

Unceasingly, for seven days and nights, have I asked myself, and asked the stars, wherefore have the G.o.ds allowed this awful thing to happen?

Is it a crime that I vowed a vow, such as many which are vowed in the north?

Hundreds of women had heard it without resentment.