Chapter 12

Now, for all the peace of this holy island there hung over it an ever-present fear of which I learned when we spoke to Phelim concerning the treasure which we would leave in the care of the brethren when we went hence.

He said that it was well if we would do so, and that they would bury it under that new shed which we had helped to build, since no Danes would wonder at seeing newly-turned earth there.

"Moreover," he said, "if we are not here when you come for it, you will know where it is."

He said this quietly, and as a matter of course, and I asked him in surprise if it was likely that they would leave their island.

"Not alive," he answered; "but the Danes may spy our easily-taken flocks at any time, and come ashore here."

"Why, they would not harm the unresisting," I said.

"Nay, but we are priests of the faith, therefore the heathen rage against us. Already they have slain almost every brotherhood along the shores of this land, and of Scotland. Our turn may come at any time."

He was in no way disquieted at this terrible thought. Thereafter I knew that to him such a death was martyrdom, and most glorious.

But Bertric listened with a troubled face, and presently, when we were alone again, he said that he was anxious.

"I only hope that we may not have brought trouble on these good men who have sheltered us," he said. "There was a ship which must have seen us cast ashore here."

"We should have had her back by this time if she meant seeking us."

"It is not her whom I fear," he answered. "This ship of ours was too precious for Heidrek to let go easily. So soon as that fog cleared, and he found we were not ahead on the Norway shore, he would put about. He knew that we must be undermanned, being so close to us. Then he would get back to where he lost us, and thereafter would guess the only course we could have taken, for the matter of handling the sail would settle that. We could not have gone far ere the wind dropped. Then supposing he picked up our mast?"

"Unlikely enough," I said. "We are raising trouble for ourselves."

Bertric shook his head. "I know Heidrek only too well. He may spend this season in hunting for the treasure which he so nearly had. News of a wreck flies fast, and he has but to touch here and there on our track or thereabout to hear of us sooner or later."

Now, I did not trouble much more about this, but it bided in Bertric's mind, and made him restless. That third day passed without sign from the mainland, as was likely, seeing that the fishers had to reach the king. It would have been of no use for us to take the boat and cross, for Dalfin told us that we needs must have horses, and maybe a guard when we would go to his place, which was a long day's ride from the shore. We were well cared for here, and it was a pleasant place wherein to wait.

In the evening the old superior sent for us again, and sitting once more in the sheltered glen, he taught us, taking up his tale where we had left it, after making me speak the old tongue of his youth to him for a little while. He was a wonderful teacher, clear and patient, and it would have been strange if we had not learned from him.

Yet I cannot say that I seemed to learn much. I clung to the old faith of my fathers, and that was not wonderful. But Gerda learned, and loved all that she heard. I had to turn the words of the teacher into the homely Norse for her, and her questions were many and eager.

Somewhere about midnight thereafter, Bertric woke with a start which roused me, so that I sat up and asked what was amiss.

"I do not know," he answered; "but it lies on my mind that somewhat has happened, or is to happen. Somewhat evil."

"The last talk of Heidrek has raised fears in your mind," I said.

Then across the stone-framed window came a flare of red light, and we both sprang to our feet and went to the door. Dalfin stirred, but did not wake. And when we were in the open all was still in the moonlight round us, but on the mainland every hill inland to the westward was tipped with the flame of beacon fires, newly lighted.

That which had waked Bertric, as one may suppose, with its first flash, was set on the hill over the fishers' village, whence we were to look for the signal to tell us to be ready for departure. It had been just lighted, and blazed up fiercely as we stood outside the cell. Five minutes later another fire answered it to the eastward, and again beyond that a third, and fourth, one after the other, as men saw the glare.

"Foes landing to the westward," said Bertric. "The fires run thence. Maybe the ship we saw went down the coast and has returned."

Now we woke Dalfin, who came out yawning, and looked.

"Danes, I suppose," he said carelessly. "That is the usual trouble; or else Connaught men on the raid. Well, as we cannot get at them, we need not trouble concerning them. And they cannot reach us."

"The fires sprang up quickly as if men watched by them tonight," said Bertric. "Some enemy was looked for."

"You have seen the like before then?" asked Dalfin.

"Not once or twice. And for the same reason--the Danes."

"Have you fought with them?"

"I was at my own place when we beat them off once."

So we stood and watched the fires until they twinkled as far as we could see to the eastward. Westward the hill, as I have said, cut off sight of both cliffs and open sea, but over it was the glow in the sky of far-off beacons.

Fergus came out of the chapel, and I heard him give a little cry as he saw the fires. Then he came to us, seeing us in the moonlight, which was bright.

"No need to fear, my sons," he said in his still voice. "Many a time I have seen those fires before, and doubtless shall see them again. The trouble may be far off, and of little account. Sleep in peace."

We turned in again, but sleep was broken until daylight came, and we were astir with the first gleam of sun across the door. It was a bright morning, with a steady sea breeze from the northeast, and every promise of the fine weather that comes withal in the summer. On the hills the smoke of the war beacons still rose and drifted, but there was no sign of stir at the foot of the glen on the mainland where the fishers had their haven, such as it was.

The brethren came from their cells, looked at the black smoke wreaths, and sighed, and went their ways into the chapel for the matins, and the little bell rang. Then Gerda came from her cell and saw us, for she, too, was early wakeful here in the quiet.

"Why are you looking so troubled? she asked us, as we bade her good morrow. Her eyes went from one to the other in some dismay, for I dare say we showed that the night had been unquiet for us.

"There seems to be some trouble on the mainland," I answered. "There are beacon fires yonder, but the brothers think little of them. They are not unusual here from all accounts."

"By no means," said Dalfin. "And they may mean little. At the most, we may be kept waiting here for a day or two longer while my father gathers men and goes to see what is amiss. Now I have a mind to ask the hermits to call the fishers and let me cross and help, if so be there is fighting on hand.

"You would come also, would you not?" he asked, looking at us two.

"Hardly," Bertric answered, before I could do so in the same word.

"Why not?"

"It is not to be supposed that we could leave our charge," he answered.

"Forgive me; I forgot," said Dalfin at once.

But even that word had made Gerda pale with the thought that she might be left alone, with the fear of our not returning for her. She smiled at Bertric as he answered, and then asked if we should not follow the brothers into the chapel, as we were told we might do at any time, though this first service was not one for which she and I might stay all the while.

So we went in, and there bided while we might. Presently we two had to rise up and leave the place, unwillingly, so far as Gerda was concerned. Phelim and I between us had told her the words of the service.

Now we walked away together toward the shore, and were silent for a time. It was plain that she thought deeply on somewhat. At last she said sadly:

"What is to come is all dim and unknown, but if it does come to pass that I may ever have home of my own again, I would that there was one of these brothers to teach me and mine."

"That might easily be," I answered.

"They would not go to a heathen land?" she said in surprise.

"Maybe not these hermits, but some man like to them would. I have heard them talk of men who are held in the greatest honour because they have dared to do so."

Thereafter she said nothing, but in her face grew a great content. We came to the shore and looked on the bare timbers of the wreck, and with all my heart I would that they were not quite so plain to be seen. The tides were slack now, and the water did not hide them in the least, even at the full flood. Moreover it was calm enough.

"Malcolm," she said presently, "do you and Bertric want to go with the prince and see if there is fighting?"

She looked in my face quickly and half turned away, and I wondered what she was thinking. For a moment I had a foolish thought that mayhap she expected us to be full of longing for the weapon play, and that to please her I might say somewhat which would tend that way. But I bethought myself and answered her frankly:

"I must speak for myself," I said; "but I think it will be the same with Bertric. I have no mind to meddle with the affairs of another man until I am sure that he needs my help. I cannot say that I do not like a fair fight when there is good reason for it; but there is no wisdom or courage in going out of the way to seek for one."

So I laughed, and she laughed also, as relieved.

"I feared lest I held you back from the game you love," she said.

"If we were alone--" I said, and there stopped, for I had said too much. No doubt if she had not been here we should have been off with Dalfin at once with light hearts.

"Then I do stay you," she said, catching my meaning.

Whereon it came to me that I had better say what I meant outright.

"We need no better reason for staying. That we have you to care for is good, and in that care is more honour to us than we might win in fighting in a quarrel which is not ours."

"Little honour can you win here, Malcolm," she said half sadly, and yet smiling. "Yet I know what you mean, and I thank you both."

Now, a thought which had been growing up in my heart for these many days came to the surface, as it were, and I had almost spoken it. I knew that if this charge were taken from me I should be lonely indeed, and that it were honour enough for me to care for and guard Gerda through all my life as the one thing that I could care for. I think that it would have been strange if this had not come to me in these long hours of companionship with her, seeing what she was in all respects, whether as she stood here on the windy shore with her fair hair tossed by the sea breeze, fair and full of health and life, or as I had seen her on the decks of the doomed ship, brave and steadfast, with the cruel terror of the pirates on her.

But here and now I could say nothing of this that was so near to me. I had naught to offer her but my poor presence, no future, and no home. And maybe there were long days of companionship and service due from me, and I would not that there should be the least thing said to mar the ease with which that went so far. One can be wise at times, when the comfort of another is in the balance, as it were.

Moreover, how could I tell that some of her longing for home might not be also from pain of separation? And that was now no happy thought to me. Well, I must wait and find out all that. If it was in my power that longing should be stilled, and then I might know the best and worst of all that might lie before me.

Thoughts like these do not grow up all at once as I have set them down. At this time they seemed to gather from the many times they had passed through my mind, and rank themselves against my words. So it came to pass that I was silent, and was glad presently that so I had been.

"Look!" said Gerda suddenly, pointing out to the far eastward, "yonder are sails on the skyline."

Far off they were, but plain enough under the morning sun. Two white specks on the blue circle's edge, sails of ships which sailed westward, as if beating to windward in long boards against the northeast breeze. They might be Norse vessels from Dublin on their way homewards, though it had been more easy for such to wait a slant from the south or west.

"They cannot be the ships which have caused the firing of the beacons," I said. "That trouble was to the westward."

I half turned to look at the hills and their fires, and saw our comrades coming to us. Dalfin was ahead, and plainly excited.

"Malcolm," he cried, so soon as he was within hearing, "I cannot hold back if there is fighting in our land. Will you two take the boat there and set me across to the mainland?"

I suppose that he had talked of this to Bertric as they came, for the Saxon nodded to me.

"It will but take half an hour," he said. "Moreover, if we cross we may learn what is amiss. What says the queen?"

"If the prince must go," she said, "I do not see how I can stay him. I can sit and watch you there and back, and cannot feel lonely. But need he go?"

"Faith," said Dalfin, laughing, "can a prince of Maghera sit still when the fires are burning yonder to call him? That would be a shame to him, and a wonder to his folk. I must go."

His eyes shone, and it was plain that even had we wished to do so, we could not stay him. The place of the prince was with his men, and he would return for us. Gerda smiled at his eagerness, and bade him hasten to return, and so we went to where the boats lay in the sand hills.

The larger had all her gear in her as we left it, and the smaller, which was meant for three only, had but her oars. We took this latter, as it was easy to get her to the water, and she was all we needed.

"Go and get your arms," I said to Dalfin. "We will pull round and meet you at the rock where the fishers landed."

"Hurry, then," he said, and went his way to the cells in all haste.

More slowly Gerda followed him, and we pushed off and bent to the oars. There was little sea, and we went swiftly from the open round the eastern point of the island and into the strait.

Now I pointed out the distant sails to Bertric, but he had already seen them.

"I do not rightly make out what they are yet," he said; "but I do not think them Danish. Honest Norse traders from Dublin, most likely."

It was at the time of the slack water at the top of high tide now, and we found Dalfin and Gerda waiting with Phelim and another of the brothers at the flat rock. At the first sight I thought the prince had changed his mind, and would stay, as if Gerda had over-persuaded him. For he stood there bare headed, and without mail or shield, though he had the axe and sword which Gerda had given him, and the great torque was on his neck.

"Where is the mail?" I asked, as we steadied the boat by the rock.

"Waiting my return," he answered. "Today I am an Irish prince--tomorrow the queen's courtman again, if she will.

"Now farewell, fathers."

He bent his knee to the priests, and then bowed over Gerda's hand as he kissed it in parting.

"Forgive me, queen," he said. "The call of Eirinn must take me from you for a time. It cannot be denied by me."

"Come back soon, and as a victor, and you will be forgiven," she answered, laughing, and he stepped into the boat.

Then as he put off she sat down on a rock with the brethren behind her, to watch us, and we saw her wave her hand in farewell.

"Concerning the arms, or the want thereof," said Dalfin presently. "Our folk hold that a warrior should need naught but his weapons, and that mail or shield are but cowardly devices. So I have had to leave them, though I am not of that mind myself. Moreover, I shall be likely to find a long tramp across the hills before me presently, and I have no mind to be set on by my own people as a wandering Dane, for the sake of wearing outland arms to please myself."

It was not a quarter of an hour before we were alongside the little tottering landing stage which the fishers had built for themselves of the ribs of some wreck at the foot of their glen. Some of the children who swarmed in the village of huddled turf huts caught sight of us first, and fled, yelling. Out of the huts came their mothers in all haste to see what ailed them, and they too saw and shrieked.

Whereon the men came running, each with a long-handled axe in his hand, as if caught up from close by where each had been working. Though they were wild and short of stature they were wiry and active men, who might be good warriors if well led.

Dalfin leapt ashore and called to them, and they knew him, welcoming him with a yell of delight, and crowding to do him noisy homage. There were ten or fifteen of them, and it was some time before the prince had a chance to make himself heard. When he could, he called for the head man of the place, and one, with fiery-red hair and beard, came and knelt before him to hear his commands, while the rest drew back and stared, in a half circle. As for us, we waited in the boat and laughed.

"What are all these beacon fires about?" asked Dalfin shortly.

"Danes in the river Bann, lord," the head man said.

"Have they landed yet?"

"No, lord. They wait for ransom they have demanded. If it comes not, they will burn and harry all Ulster."

"How many ships, then?" asked Dalfin, on hearing that threat.

"Two ships, lord, and great ones."

The prince laughed at the man.

"What, burn all Ulster with two shiploads of men? That is a great boast which we shall not care for. Where is my father, the king--and where is the muster?"

The man told him that the king was at some place or other, with the mustering warriors. Thereat Dalfin bade the man get him a horse at once, and the fisher threw up his hands and said that there was never a horse within ten miles. Dalfin laughed and spoke to us.

"Just what I thought," he said. "If I get to the muster by sunset I shall be lucky, unless I meet with a horse on the way. And--I am out of condition with these long days on board ship."

He groaned, and we bade him wait till he was sent for; but that he would not hear.

"I shall take a dozen of these knaves as guard--and maybe to carry me betimes. Wish me luck, for I must be going."

Now the wild fishers had been whispering among themselves, and one of them made up his mind to tell somewhat. He came and knelt before Dalfin, and asked him to forgive him.

"What for?" asked the prince.

"For telling foolishness," answered the man. "Yet I think it should be told with the rest of the news."

"Tell it, then."

"I spoke with the man who carried the gathering cry, and he said that the evil Lochlannoch, concerning whom are the beacons, have bidden men give up the treasure which they say we must needs have won from a certain wreck. There has been no wreck, lord, save yours, and the prince will ever have treasure."

Now a sudden heat of rage seemed to fall on Dalfin, and he cried aloud to the men:

"Hearken, fools! It is not to be said that the prince was wrecked like a fisher churl. There has been no wreck--if there has been, there was no treasure. Mind you that."

"Lord," said the man, trembling, "I cannot tell if aught was told the Lochlannoch. We have said naught to them, not having seen them."

"Dalfin," I said, with a great chill on me, "ask if they know the name of the leader of these men."

He changed colour, for I think that the knowledge of what I feared came to him in a flash. He asked, and the man at his feet muttered what was meant for the name of Heidrek. He said it once or twice, stammering, but I knew it, and Bertric caught it also.

"What is it that the man says?" he asked quickly. He had been content to wait until presently to hear what the news was, until this came to his ears.

"What you feared," I answered. "Heidrek treasure hunting."

Dalfin turned to us now, and his face was troubled.

"Malcolm," he said, "you have heard all this. It is a mere chance if Heidrek has not heard of the wreck by this time. Now, it will be best for you to bring Gerda across here at once, and so let these men take you to a hiding in the hills. I will come back swiftly with men and horses and take you thence. Make the hermits come also, if you can--but they will not."

Then he spoke to the fishers and told them that they had to do this, at the same time bidding some get provender and be ready to go with him instantly. That pleased them well enough, and a dozen ran to the huts to find what was needed. I heard the women scolding them.

"Farewell, friends," he said, coming alongside again, and taking our hands with a great grip. "I left Ireland to find adventure, and, faith, I have not been disappointed. Now, the sooner I am away the sooner I will be back."

"Good luck to you," we cried; and he shouted for his ragged men, and was away up the glen.

Behind the little straggling crowd the women came out and wept and howled as if not one would be back again. It was their way of sending their men off in good spirits, I suppose. Not that the men heeded the noise at all, being used to it. One looked back and grinned.

The few men left lingered on the shore, and I called one to me.

"We shall be back here shortly with the young queen," I said. "You will be ready for us."

"As the word of the prince bade us," he answered. "It will be done."

We pulled away, and it was time. The falling tide was setting westward through the strait, and we had to row more or less against it now as we crossed to where Gerda's white dress shone on the farther shore.

"Heidrek will not risk a landing," Bertric said. "The sooner we are back here with Gerda the better. He has heard of that wreck."

I told him the words of the fishers, and he was the more sure of it. We pulled on the faster therefore, and the light boat flew as only a Norse-built boat can fly.

Bertric was in the forward rower's place, steering, and now and again he turned his head to set the course. I suppose we had covered half the distance across, when I heard him draw in his breath sharply.

"Holy saints," he said, "look yonder!"

He was staring toward the westward mouth of the strait, half a mile away. There was a long black boat there, and the sun sparkled on the arms of the men in her. They were rowing slowly against the tide, toward us.

"Too late," said Bertric between his teeth. "That is Heidrek treasure hunting, and we shall not get back to the mainland."