Chapter 13

IN LINCOLN MARKETPLACE.

We went quietly back to the town, and there was only one thing that I wished, and that was that Havelok had not had to tell his name twice. Ragnar was full of thanks to us for our help, and said that he would that we would come to Norfolk with him.

“We have a man who knows you also,” he said, “but he has been with our princess for a long time now. He is called Mord, and is her chamberlain. He has often told me how he came by his wry-neck at the time of your shipwreck.”

So he said, and looked at Havelok. But this was a thing that he had not seen, as he was so sick at the time. I said that I remembered Mord well, and would seek him some time in the day.

And as I said this I was thinking that I must find out from Mord whether he knew and had told more than I could of who Havelok was and whence he came to us. It seemed to me that the earl had heard some tale or other, and unless it was from him I could not think from whence.

Now the earl said, “This business has ended better than I could have hoped, and I think that Alsi will not hear of it. Griffin can well account for a slipped shoulder by any sort of fall that he likes to own to, and Alsi would be hardly pleased to hear that he had run the risk of setting all Norfolk against him for nothing after all.”

“There is no doubt that he meant you to know that he does not consider the quarrel done with,” I said. “You have an enemy there.”

“Nothing new, that,” answered Ragnar, laughing. “He thinks that I stand in his way with the princess. I suppose it is common talk that if he wedded her Alsi would still hold the East Anglian kingdom, making him ealdorman, if only I were out of the way. But were I to wed the lady, then it is certain that she would take the crown at once. I do not mean to do so, for then it is likely that three people would be unhappy for the rest of their days. But that would be less wretched for her than to wed Griffin.”

“This is no pleasant strait for the poor lady,” said Havelok grimly. “Do none ask what she herself can wish?”

“That is the trouble,” said the earl, “for she is in Alsi’s hand, and there is some old promise and oath sworn between him and Ethelwald her father that holds him back. Else had she been wedded to Griffin before now.”

Then we came to the widow’s house, and Havelok left his arms there, and we went on to the marketplace. As we crossed the bridge we saw that there was something going forward, for there was a gathering in the wide space, and a shouting and cheering now and then, and even Berthun himself was there looking on and seeming to be highly entertained.

“Here is a crowd that I will not face just now, in my arms,” said the earl; “for this hole in my shield looks bad, not having been there when I went out. Farewell for the time, therefore, and think of what I said about your coming to Norwich with me.”

He turned away therefore, and Havelok looked after him for a moment. The shield hung at his back, plain to be seen.

“It is a hole, for certain,” he said; “but there is no need to show it in that wise.”

So he strode after him.

“By your leave, earl, I will arrange your cloak across the shield, and then you can get it to your armourer without notice.”

“That is well thought of,” answered Ragnar, as Havelok did as he had said. “I do not forget that I think that I owe you my life, though I have said nothing as yet.”

“How is that?”

“Griffin would have flown on me as he did on you, certainly; and it is in my mind that you foresaw it, which I did not. I could not have stayed him.”

“Well I did,” answered my brother; “else had either I or you a hole in us like the one that is well covered now. But I feared what came to pass.”

Ragnar held out his hand, and Havelok took it, and so they parted without more words; but I knew that these two were friends from that time forward, whatever happened.

There were some sports of some sort on hand, when we came to see what all the noise was; and Berthun, seeing us, called Havelok to him.

“I have been looking for you,” he said, with that curious tone of his that always seemed to be asking pardon for his boldness in speaking to my brother; “for here are games at which they need some one to show the way.”

“This is a sport that I have not seen before,” answered Havelok, looking over the heads of the crowd. “I should make a poor hand at it.”

They had been tossing a great fir pole, which was now laid on one side, with its top split from its falls, and they, thanes and freemen in turn, were putting a great stone, so heavy that a matter of a few inches beyond the longest cast yet made would be something to be proud of. Good sport enough it was to see the brawny housecarls heave it from the ground and swing it. But no one could lift it above his knee, so that one may suppose that it flew no great distance at a cast.

“Nay, but the thanes are trying,” Berthun said. “It is open to all to do what they can. One of your porters is best man so far.”

“Well, I will not try to outdo him.”

“I would that you would lift the stone, Curan. That is a thing that I should most like to see.”

“Well then, master, as you bid me, I will try. But do not expect too much.”

The man who had the stone made his cast, which was nothing to speak of; and then the stone lay unclaimed for a time, while all the onlookers waited to see who came forward next. Then Havelok made his way through the crowd, and a silence as of wonder fell on the people; for some knew him, and had heard of his strength, and those who did not stared at him as at a wonder. But the silence did not last long, for the porters who were there set up a sort of shout of delight, and that one who had made the longest cast so far began to tell him how best to heft the stone and swing it.

Then Havelok bent to raise the stone, and the noise hushed again. I saw his mighty limbs harden and knot under the strain, and up to his knee he heaved it, and to his middle, and yet higher, to his chest, while we all held our breaths, and then with a mighty lift it was at his shoulder, and he poised it, and swung as one who balances for a moment, and then hurled it from him. Then was a shout that Alsi might have heard in his hilltop palace, for full four paces beyond the strong porter’s cast it flew, lighting with a mighty crash, and bedding itself in the ground where it lit. And I saw the young thanes with wide eyes looking at my brother, and from beside me Berthun the cook fairly roared with delight.

And then from across the space between the two lines of onlookers I saw a man in a fisher’s dress that caught my eye. It was Withelm, and we nodded to each other, well pleased.

Now there seemed to be a strife as to who should get nearest to Havelok, for men crowded to pat him and to look up at him, and that pleased him not at all. One came and bade him take the silver pennies that the thanes had set out for the prize, but he shook his head and smiled.

“I threw the thing because I was bidden, and not for any prize,” he said. “I would have it given to the porter who fairly won it.”

Then he elbowed his way to Berthun, and said, “let us go, master; we have stayed here too long already.”

“As it pleases you,” the steward said; and Havelok waved his hand to me, and they went their way.

He had not seen Withelm, and I was glad, for I wanted to speak to him alone first.

Now men began to ask who this was, and many voices answered, while the porter went to claim the prize from the thane who held it.

Two silver pennies the thane gave him, and said, “This seems to be a friend of yours, and it was good to hear you try to help him without acrimony. Not that he needed any hints from any one, however. Who is he?”

“Men call him Curan, that being the name he gives himself; but he came as a stranger to the place, and none know from whence, unless Berthun the cook may do so. Surely he is a friend of mine, for he shook me once, and that shaking made an honest man of me. He himself taught me what fair play is, at that same time.”

So said the porter, and laughed, and the thane joined him.

“Well, he has made a sort of name for himself as a wonder, certainly, now. I think that this cast of his will be told of every time men lift a stone here in Lincoln,” said the thane.

They left the stone where he had set it, and any one may see it there to this day, and there I suppose it will be for a wonder while Havelok’s name is remembered.

Then they began wrestling and the like, and I left the crowd and went to Withelm, going afterwards to the widow’s. I was not yet wanted by Eglaf for any housecarl duty.

“I sent a man to Grimsby yesterday,” I said; “but you must have passed him on the way somewhere, for he could not have started soon enough to take you a message before you left.”

“I met him on the road last night, for I myself thought it time to come and see how you two fared. I bided at Cabourn for the night, and your messenger came on with me.”

Then he told me that all were well at Grimsby; for fish came now and then and kept the famine from the town, though there were none to send elsewhere; and it was well that we had left, though they all missed us sorely.

Then we began to talk of the doings here; and at last I spoke of Havelok’s trouble, as one may well call it, telling him also of the strange dream with which it all began.

“All this is strange,” he said thoughtfully; “but if Havelok our brother is indeed a king’s son, it is only what he is like in all his ways. Wise was our father Grim, and I mind how he seemed always to be careful of him in every way, and good reason must he have had not to say what he knew. We will not ask aught until the time of which Arngeir knows has come. Nor can we say aught to Havelok, though he is troubled, for we know nothing. As for the dream, that is part of it all, and it is a portent, as I think.”

“Did I know the man who could read it, I would go to him and tell him it.”

“There is one man who can read dreams well,” Withelm answered, flushing a little, “but I do not know if you would care to seek him. I stayed with him last night, and he is on his way even now to Lincoln, driven by the famine. I mean the old British priest David, who has his little hut and chapel in the Cabourn woods. His people have no more to give him.”

I knew that Withelm thought much of this old man of late, and I was not surprised to hear him speak of him now. All knew his wisdom, and the marsh folk were wont to seek him when they were in any trouble or difficulty. But I did not care to go to him, for he seemed to belong to the thralls, as one might say.

“Well, if he comes here, no doubt you will know where to find him if we need him,” I said. “Bide with us for a few days at least, for here is plenty, and there is much going on.”

So we went into the town, and then to the palace, and found Havelok, and after that I had to go to the gate on guard. And what these two did I cannot say, but, at all events, there is nothing worth telling of.

Now, however, I have to tell things that I did not see or hear myself, and therefore I would have it understood that I heard all from those who took some part or other in the matter, and so know all well.

I have not said much of the meetings of the Witan, for I had naught more to do with them than to guard the doors of the hall where they met now and then; but since the princess and Ragnar came they seem to have somewhat to do with the story, as will be seen.

On this day one of the Norfolk thanes asked in full meeting what plans the king had for his ward Goldberga, and her coming into her kingdom, saying that she, being eighteen years of age, was old enough to take her place.

Now Alsi had thought of this beforehand, and was ready at once.

“It is a matter of concern to us always,” he said, “and much have I thought thereof. It is full time that she took her father’s place with the consent of the Witan, which is needed.”

He looked round us for reply to this, and at once the Norfolk thanes said, “We will have Goldberga for our queen, as was the will of Ethelwald.”

“That,” said Alsi, “is as I thought. I needed only to hear it said openly. Now, therefore, it remains but to speak of one other thing and that is a weighty one. It was her father’s will and I swore to carry it out, that she should be wedded to the most goodly and mightiest man in the realm. It seems to me that on her marriage hangs all the wealth of her kingdom; and ill it would be if, after she took the throne, she took to herself one who made himself an evil adviser. I would say that it were better to see her married first, for it does not follow that you would choose to have the man whom I thought fitting to be over you, as he certainly would be.”

Now all this was so straightforward in all seeming that none of the thanes could be aught but pleased. Moreover, it took away a fear that they had had lest Griffin was to be the man. None could say that he fulfilled the conditions of the will of Ethelwald. The spokesman said, therefore, that it was well set before them, and that it was best to wait, saying at the end, “For, after all, we might have to change our minds concerning the princess, if with her we must take a man who will prove a burden or tyrant to us all.”

Then they asked the king to find a good husband for the princess as soon as might be, so that he was not against her liking.

“Well,” said Alsi, “it is a hard task for a man who has no wife to help him; but we will trust to the good sense of my niece. Now, I had thought of Ragnar of Norwich; but it is in my mind that the old laws of near kin are somewhat against this.”

I suppose that he had no intention of letting the earl marry the princess; but this was policy, as it might please the thanes. However, the matter of kinship did not please some, and that was all that he needed, for there was excuse then for him if he forbade that match, which was the last he wanted.

Ragnar sat in his place and heard all this, and he wished himself back at Norwich.

So there the matter ended, and that was the last sitting of the Witan. There was to be a great breaking-up feast that night before the thanes scattered to their homes.

Now while this was going on I ended my spell of duty, and bethought me of Mord the chamberlain, and so went to Berthun and asked for him. He said that if I had any special business with Mord I might see him; and I said, truly enough, that my errand was special, having to do with friends of his; so it was not long before they took me to him. He was in a long room that was built on the side of the great hall, as it were, and I could hear the murmur of the voices of those who spoke at the Witan while I waited.

Now Mord was not so much changed as I, and at first he did not know me at all.

“Well, master housecarl, what may your message be, and from whom is it?” he said, without more than a glance at me.

“Why, there are some old friends of yours who are anxious to know if you have forgotten the feeling of a halter round your neck,” I said in good Danish.

Then, after one look, he knew me at once, and ran to me, and took my hand, and almost kissed me in his pleasure, for since I could handle an oar he had known me, and had taught me how to do that, moreover.

Then he called for wine and food; and we sat down together and had a long talk of the old days, and of how we had fared after he left, and of all else that came uppermost. And sorely he grieved at my father’s death, and at the trouble that was on us. The famine had not been so sore in the south, and pestilence had not been at all.

As for himself, he had been courtman, as we call the housecarls, at first, and so had risen to be chamberlain to the king, and now to the princess, and had been with her everywhere that Alsi had sent her since her father died.

“It was a good day for me, and wise was Grim when he bade me go to Ethelwald to seek service,” he said; “yet I would that I had seen him once more. I have never been to this place before, else I should have sought him.”

Now I was going to ask him about Havelok, but hardly knew how to begin. He saved me the trouble however, by speaking first.

“Who were the lady and the boy we had on board when we came to England?” he said. “I never heard, and maybe it was as well that I did not.”

“My father never told me. But why do you think that it was well not to know?”

“Because I am sure that Grim had good reason for not telling. Before I had been a year at Norwich there came a ship from Denmark into the river, and soon men told me that her master was asking for news of one Grim, a merchant, who was lost. So I saw him, not saying who I was or that I had anything to do with Grim; and then I found that it was not so much of the master that he wanted news as of the boy we had with us. He did not ask of the lady at all, and I was sure that this was the man who came and spoke to Grim just as we were sailing, if you remember. So then it came to me that we knew nothing of the coming on board of these two, only learning of their presence when we were far at sea. And now, if Hodulf troubled himself so much about this boy, there must be something that he was not meant to know about his flight, for he must be of some note. Did I not know that the king’s son was in his hands at that time, I should have thought that our passenger was he. However, I told him of the shipwreck as of a thing that I had seen, saying that Grim and his family and a few men only had been saved; and I told him also that I had heard that he had lost some folk in an attack by Vikings. With that he seemed well satisfied, and I heard no more of him. I have wondered ever since who the boy was, and if he was yet alive. I mind that he was like to die when he came ashore.”

Then I laughed, and said that he would hear of him soon enough, for all the town was talking of him; and he guessed whom I meant, for he had heard of the cook’s mighty man.

Now I said no more but this:

“My father kept this matter secret all these years, and with reason, as we have seen; and so, while he is here, we call this foster-brother of mine Curan, until the time comes when his name may he known. Maybe it will be best for you not to say much of your knowledge of him. What does Earl Ragnar know of our wreck? For he told me that you knew me.”

“I told him all about it at one time or another,” Mord answered. “He always wanted to hear of Denmark.”

So that was all that the chamberlain knew; but it was plain to me that the earl had put two and two together when he heard Havelok’s name, and had remembered that this was also the name of Gunnar’s son. Afterwards I found that Mord had heard from Denmark that Hodulf was said to have made away with Havelok, but he never remembered that at this time. Ragnar knew this, and did remember it.

Pleasant it was to talk of old days with an old friend thus, and the time went quickly. Then Mord must go to his mistress and I to my place, and so we parted for the time. But my last doubt of who Havelok my brother might be was gone. I was sure that he was the son of Gunnar the king.