Wulfric the Weapon Thane, Charles W. Whistler [ebook reader web .txt] 📗

facing the altar stone and the sanctuary door, and I, with Halfden and Thormod before me, and men of the crew to right and left, stood in the centre of our line, so that I could see all that went on.

Then, seeing that all was ready, Ingvar swung back the heavy door of the shrine, and I saw before me a great image of Thor the mighty, glaring with sightless eyes across the space at me. It was carved in wood, and the god stood holding in one hand Mioelner, his great hammer, and in the other the head of the Midgaard serpent, whose tailed curled round his legs, as though it were vainly trying to struggle free.

Then Ingvar turned and lighted the altar fire, and the smoke rose straight up and hung in the heavy morning air in a cloud over the Ve; and that seemed to be of good omen, for the men shouted joyfully once, and were again silent.

From behind the sanctuary two armed men led the horse for the sacrifice that should be feasted on thereafter; and it was a splendid colt, black and faultless, so that to me it seemed a grievous thing that its life should thus be spilt for naught. Yet I was the only one there who deemed it wasted.

Then Ingvar chanted words to which I would not listen, lest my heart should seem to echo them, so taking part in the heathen prayer. Over the horse he signed Thor's hammer, and slew it with Thor's weapon, and the two men flayed and divided it skilfully, laying certain portions before the jarl, the godar.

He sprinkled the blood upon doorway and statue, and then again chanting, laid those portions upon the altar fire, and the black smoke rose up from them, while all the host watched for what omens might follow.

The smoke rose, wavered, and went up, and then some breath of wind took it and drifted it gently into the open temple, winding it round the head of Thor's image and filling all the little building. And at that the men shouted again.

Then Ingvar turned slowly towards the shrine, and drawing his sword, lifted up the broad shining blade as if in salute, crying as he turned the point north and east and south and west:

"Skoal, ye mighty Ones!"

And at once, as one man all the host, save myself only, lifted their weapons in salute, crying in a voice that rolled back from the trees like an answering war shout:

"Skoal to the mighty Ones!"

But as for me, I stirred not, save that as by nature, and because I fixed my thoughts on the One Sacrifice of our own faith, I signed myself with the sign of the cross, only knowing this, that Thor and Odin I would not worship.

Suddenly, even as the echo of the shout died away, and while the weapons were yet upraised, the thick cloud of smoke rolled back and down, wrapping round Ingvar the godar as he stood between shrine and altar, and across the reek glared the sightless eyes of the idol again, cold and heedless.

Now of all omens that was the worst, for it must needs betoken that the sacrifice was not pleasing; and at that a low groan as of fear went round the host. Then back started Ingvar, and I saw his face through the smoke, looking white as ashes. For a long time, as it seemed to me, there was silence, until the smoke rose up straight again and was lost in the treetops. Even the ravens, scared maybe by the great shout, were gone, and all was very still.

At last Ingvar turned slowly to us and faced our crew.

"The sacrifice is yours," he said, "and if it is not accepted the fault is yours also. We are clear of blame who have bided at home."

Then Halfden answered for his men and himself:

"I know not what blame is to us."

But from close behind me Rorik lifted his voice:

"No blame to the crew--but here is one, a stranger, who does no honour to the gods, neither lifting sword or hailing them as is right, even before Thor's image."

Then I knew that the worst was come, and prepared to meet it. But Halfden spoke.

"All men's customs are not alike, and a stranger has his own ways."

But Ingvar's face was black with rage, and not heeding Halfden, he shouted:

"Set the man before me."

No man stirred, for indeed I think that most of our crew knew not who was meant, and those near me would, as Halfden told me, say nought.

Then said Ingvar to Rorik: "Point the man to me."

Then Rorik pointed to me. So I stood forth of my own accord, not looking at him, but at Ingvar.

"So," said the jarl, harshly, "you dare to dishonour Thor?" I answered boldly, feeling very strong in the matter.

"I dishonour no man's religion, Jarl, neither yours nor my own."

"You did no honour to the Asir," he said sternly.

"Thor and Odin are not the gods I worship," I answered.

"I know. You are one of those who have left the gods of your fathers."

Then one of our men, who had stood next to me, spoke for me, as he thought.

"I saw Wulfric sign Thor's hammer even now. What more does any man want from a Saxon?"

Thereat Ingvar scowled, knowing, as I think, what this was.

"You claim to be truth teller," he said; "did you sign Thor's hammer?"

"I did not," I answered.

Then Halfden came to my side.

"Let Wulfric go his own way, brother. What matters it what gods he worships so long as he is good warrior and true man, as I and my men know him to be?"

So he looked round on the faces of my comrades, and they answered in many ways that this was so. And several cried:

"Let it be, Jarl. What is one man to Thor and Odin?"

Now I think that Ingvar would have let the matter pass thus, for the word of the host is not lightly to be disregarded. But Rorik would not suffer it.

"What of the wrath of the gods, Godar?" he said. "How will you put that aside?"

Then was a murmur that they must be appeased, but it came not from our crew; and Ingvar stood frowning, but not looking at me for a space, for he was pulled two ways. As godar he must not pass by the dishonour to the gods, yet as the son of the man whom I had saved, how could he harm me? And Rorik, seeing this, cried:

"I hold that this man should live no longer."

"Why, what dishonour has he done the gods?" said Halfden. "If he had scoffed, or said aught against them--that were a different thing. And what does Thor there care if one man pays no heed to him? Surely he can keep his own honour--leave it to him."

"It is dishonour to Thor not to hail him," said Rorik.

Now Ingvar spoke again to me:

"Why do you no honour to the gods?"

"My fathers honoured them, for the godarship was theirs, and would have been my father's and mine, even as it is yours, Jarl Ingvar. For good reason they left that honour and chose another way and a better. And to that way I cleave. I have done despite to no man's faith--neither to yours nor my own."

At that Rorik lost patience, and lifting his axe, ground his teeth and said savagely:

"I will even make you honour Thor yonder."

Now at that Halfden saw a chance for me, and at once stayed Rorik's hand, saying in a loud voice:

"Ho! this is well. Let Wulfric and Rorik fight out this question--and then the life of him who is slain will surely appease the gods."

That pleased our crew well, for they had no great love for Rorik, who had taken too much command on him, for a stranger on board. Now, too, Ingvar's brows cleared, for he cared nothing for the life of either of us, so that the gods were satisfied with blood. And he said:

"So shall it be. Take axes and make short work of it. If Wulfric can slay Rorik, we know that he is innocent of aught to dishonour the gods. But if he is slain--then on his head is the blame."

Then he looked round and added:

"Let Guthrum and Hubba see fair play."

Now came Hubba, pleased enough, for he knew my axe play, and that chief whom they called Guthrum, a square, dark man with a pleasant, wise face, and took four spears, setting them up at the corners of a twelve-pace square, between the line of our crew and the altar.

So now it seemed to me that I must fight for our faith, for truth against falsehood, darkness against light. And I was confident, knowing this, that the death of one for the faith is often the greatest victory. So I said:

"I thank you, Jarl. I will fight willingly for my faith."

"Fight for what you like," said Ingvar, "but make haste over it."

Then Hubba and Guthrum placed me at one side of the square, and Rorik at the opposite. And I faced the image of Thor, so that under the very eyes of the idol I hated I must prove my faith.

Then came a longing into my mind to lift my axe in Thor's face and defy him, but I put it away, for how should an idol know of threat or defiance? Surely that would be to own some power of his.

When we were ready, Hubba and Guthrum, each with drawn swords, stood on either side of the spear-marked square, and signed to Ingvar to give the word. At once he did so.

Then I strode forward five paces and waited, but Rorik edged round me, trying to gain some vantage of light, and I watched him closely.

And all the host stood silent, holding breath, and the altar smoke rose up over our heads, and the ravens croaked in the trees, and over all stared the great statue of Thor, seeing naught.

Then like a wolf Rorik sprang at me, smiting at my left shoulder where no shield was to guard me. And that was Rorik's last stroke, for even as I had parried Thormod's stroke in sport, the man's wrist lit on the keen edge of my axe, so that hand and weapon flew far beyond me with the force of his stroke. Then flashed my axe, and Rorik fell with his helm cleft in twain.

Then roared our crew, cheering me:

"Skoal to the axeman! Ahoy!"

But I looked at Ingvar, and said:

"Short work have I made, Jarl."

Whereat he laughed a grim laugh, only answering:

"Aye, short enough. The gods are appeased."

Then I went back to my place beside Halfden, and our men patted my back, praising me, roughly and heartily, for it is not a viking's way to blame a man for slaying a comrade in fair fight and for good reason.

Now Ingvar stood before the shrine, and called to the gods to be heedful of the blood spilt to purge whatever dishonour or wrong had been done. And he hung up the weapons of