Chapter 17

A STRANGEST WEDDING.

Long spoke Withelm and the priest David together, until it was time for them to seek the palace; and when they came there, they spoke to Mord also. Then David thought it was well to say naught to Havelok until more was learned from Goldberga herself, for he would soon see how things stood with her. Then he would see Withelm again, and they would plan together for the best. So Withelm waited for the return of the priest, whom Mord took to his mistress. Alsi and his men were supping in the hall, but Goldberga was waiting in her own chamber.

Now the princess thought that, after her message to the king, she would hear no more of the kitchen knave, and so was happier. But all the while she pondered over her dream the thought of Havelok must needs come into it, and that was troublesome. Nevertheless, it was not to be helped, seeing that there was no doubt at all that he and the man of the vision were like to each other as ever were twins. Wherefore if the thought of one must be pleasant so at last must be that of the other. And then came the nurse with tales of what Berthun thought of this man of his—how that he was surely a wandering prince, with a vow of service on him, like Gareth of the Round Table in the days of Arthur.

So presently it seemed to the princess that the churl was gone, as it were, and in his place was a wandering atheling, at least, who was not a terror at all. Then at length the slow time wore away until Mord came with David the priest.

No priestly garb had the old man on, for that had made his danger certain; but though he was clad in a thrall’s rough dress, he was not to be mistaken for aught but a most reverend man.

“Peace be with you, my daughter,” he said; “it is good to look on the child of Orwenna, the queen whom we loved.”

Then the chamberlain left those two alone, and at once Goldberga told the priest why she had asked him to run the risk of coming to her, for there is no doubt that he was in peril, though not from Alsi himself.

At first she asked him many things about her mother, and learned much of her goodness to the poor folk, and of their love to her; and presently, when she grew more sure of the kindness and seeming wisdom of the priest, she told him all her dream, adding no thoughts of her own, as she mistrusted them.

Then said David, “There seems naught but good in this, and it is not hard to unravel. I think that all shall come to pass even as it was told you.”

“I feared the heathen ways of the place, and thought that it might be some snare of the old gods,” said Goldberga.

But David told her that they could have no power on her, and asked her if the king knew of the vision, that being one thing of which he was not sure; and when he found that he did not, the whole affair seemed more strange than before.

But now the princess asked him, “Plain were the words that I heard, hut what meant the light as of a sunbeam that came from the mouth of the man of the vision?”

“That surely means that in word and in heart and in all else the man shall be kingly altogether, so that there shall be no mistaking the same; and it may also mean that you shall know the man at once when you see him.”

At that Goldberga grew pale and red by turns, so that David, quick to read the thoughts of those who came to him for help, asked if she had seen anyone who she thought must be meant, not at all knowing that she must needs say that this was Curan.

Not at all willingly did she tell him this; but she did so, adding at last that Alsi had threatened to wed her to this man.

Now it was plain to David that all was pulling the same way, for surely Alsi wrought, unknowing, for the fulfilling of the dream; and all seemed to prove that Havelok was the son of the Danish king, and that he would win back his kingdom. Then he found out that the princess had no knowledge that the king had spoken to Havelok, but it did not seem to be needful that he should tell her that he had done so. That would be told by Alsi himself if he meant, as seemed certain, to carry out his threat. So he thought awhile, and at last he saw what he might do without saying anything to bend the choice of the princess in any way.

“It will soon be plain in what way the dream shall be fulfilled,” he said; “and this is certain, that you shall be wedded to none but the right man, else had it not been sent. Have no fear, therefore, even as it was bidden you.”

Then the princess said that the only thing which troubled her was the fear lest Alsi should yet force her to wed this one who was so like him she had seen in her dream.

“That,” said the priest, “is doubtless the most strange part of the whole matter, yet I think that even thus there need be no fear. I will tell you now that I know this one who is called Curan well, and I, and all who know him, love him. Truly he is not a Christian, but he is no hater of the faith, and that is much in these days. Nor is he a churl, but rather one of the most noble of men. It is certain that, whatever Alsi might wish, he would not wed you against your will. He has but to know your thoughts in order to help you in any way. But I must also tell you this, that he is a Dane, who fled from his land when he was a child; and it is thought that he is the son of the Danish king, who was slain at the time when Mord, your servant, fled also. He came to England in the same ship as did Mord, who can tell you more of him. It is certain that there is a secret about his birth, and the one who knows that secret is not far off. If need is, we can learn it, for there was a set time for its telling, and maybe this is it. Now, if it is true that he is the son of the Danish king, it does seem as if your dream might be bidding you to have no fear of what seems doubtful in the matter, though I cannot tell, and do not like to say so for certain. His name is not Curan, but Havelok.”

Then Goldberga said, “I have heard of that flight and of the wreck from Mord often. He was wont to tell me of the child, and of the lady who was drowned, and he said that he thought him the king’s son.”

After that she was greatly cheered, for the worst of the trouble seemed to be over and gone. It was in her mind now that Alsi knew who Havelok was, and that he tried her, for she was not one to think ill of any.

So she let the priest go, with many thanks, saying, “Now I know that whatever happens is the will of Heaven, and must be for the best. I am ready for whatever shall befall.”

Now I do not know what had seemed good to Alsi, for he had changed his mind concerning David’s visit to Goldberga, and had suddenly given orders that if he came he was to be put in ward at once. So Mord met the old man as he left the chamber, and told him that he must fly; and after that Withelm took him away in the dusk, for none hindered his going, and went to the widow’s with him, hearing all that had been said; and that which they thought was even as Goldberga had said, that all must needs be for the best. In a day or two all would he plain, for Arngeir would have come. So Withelm sent forth the old man to his own place with a good store of food, going with him for some miles, and promising him help for coming days until the dearth was ended.

Now into the palace none might come after the feast was set; and all this time I was on guard, for there were double posts round the place, by reason of Alsi’s fear of the attackers of the princess, as was said. So it happened that neither of us saw Havelok until next morning; and now I have to tell how we saw him, and what happened with the first sunlight, when men were thinking of breaking their fast.

We of the housecarls took that first meal of the day in the great hall—so many of us, that is, who were not on duty; and when we had nigh finished, Alsi would come in and seat himself on the high place, where Eglaf and half a dozen other thanes sat also at times when there was no special state to be kept.

I was early this morning, having just taken my spell of watching at the gate, and being, therefore, free for the rest of the day, and I was hungry with the sweet air of the July weather and the freshness that comes with sunrise. So I was not altogether pleased to see that there was seemingly some new affair of state on hand, while the breakfast was not yet set out by reason of preparations that were going on where the king’s chair was wont to stand. There was Berthun, looking puzzled and by no means pleased, and his men were busy setting out benches on the high place, of a sort that were not those that were wont to be there, in three sides of a square, the open side facing the hall. One bench made each side, and all three were carved from back rail to clawed feet wondrously. Old they seemed also. Then, too, instead of the sweet sedges that strewed the high place, men had spread a cloth of bright hues underfoot there, and the sedges had been swept among the rushes of the lower places. All this was so strange that I went forward, and when I had a chance I asked the steward what was on hand.

“If you know not, master housecarl, no more do I. ‘Justice to be done,’ says the king, and so I suppose that you have some notable prisoner in ward—maybe the leader of those villains who scared our fair princess.”

“But we had taken no man, and I will say that we had wondered that we had not been sent out to hunt those people, instead of biding to see if they came to trouble us here.”

“Why, then,” said Berthun, “some thane must be bringing a captive shortly. But why Alsi orders these benches, it passes me to make out. They are those that have been used for the weddings of his kin since the days of Hengist. Last time was when Orwenna, his sister, wedded Ethelwald of Norfolk. Maybe he thinks that they need airing.”

He laughed and went on directing his men; but knowing what I knew, I wondered what it all might mean, for there was one wedding that I could not help thinking of.

Presently the hall began to fill as men came in, and every one had somewhat to say, and all marvelled at this that was going on. Then Berthun came and beckoned to me, for I must fetch Eglaf the captain at once, as the king had need of him, in haste. Then Eglaf hurried to the hall; and after a word or two with Alsi, the horns were blown outside the hall door to call every man of the guard to the place. And when they came, we were all set round the wall as if guarding all that were in it. But there were none but the folk of the palace to guard, and they were wondering as were we; and when that was done, and the click and rattle of arms as we moved to our places was ended, there was a silence on all—the silence of men who wait for somewhat to happen.

Now Berthun went to the door on the high place, as he was wont when all was ready for the king’s presence, and the hush deepened, none knowing what they expected to see.

Forth came Berthun backward, as was the custom, and he turned aside to let the king pass him. His face was red and angry, as I thought, but amazed also. I was standing next to Eglaf, and he was at the foot of the dais, at the end of his line of men, so that I could see all plainly.

Then came Alsi, leading the princess, and after Goldberga came her nurse. No other ladies were with her; and now I noticed that there was not one thane on the high place, which was strange, and the first time that such a thing had been since I came here. I looked down the hall, and none were present. Now I looked at Alsi; and on his pale face was a smile that might have been as of one who will be glad, though he does not feel so. But the eyes of the princess were bright with tears, and hardly did she look from the floor. Hers was a face to make one sad to see at that time, wondrously beautiful as it was.

Alsi led her by the hand, and set her on the bench that was to his left, and signed to the nurse to sit beside her, which the old lady did, bridling and looking with scorn at the king as she took her place. There she sought the hand of the princess, and held it tightly, as in comforting wise. Very rich garments had the nurse, but Goldberga was dressed in some plain robe of white that shone when the light caught it. Mostly I do not see these things, but now I wished that she always wore that same.

As for Alsi, he had on his finest gear, even as at the great feast of the Witan—crimson cloak, fur-lined, and dark-green hose, gold-gartered across, and white and gold tunic. He had a little crown on also, and that was the only thing kingly about him, to my mind.

Now he cast one look at Goldberga, which made her shrink into herself, as it were, and turned with a smile to us all.

“Friends,” he said, “this is short notice for a wedding, but all men know that ‘Happy is the wooing that is not long a-doing,’ so no more need be said of that. All men know also that when good Ethelwald died he made me swear to him that I would wed his daughter to the mightiest and goodliest and fairest man that was in the land. I have ever been mindful of that oath, and now it seems that the time for keeping it has come. Whether the man whom my niece will wed is all that the oath requires, you shall judge; and if he is such a one, I must not stand in the way. I do not myself know that I have ever seen one who is so fully set forth in words as is this bridegroom in those of the oath.”

Now I heard one whisper near me, “Whom has Goldberga chosen?”

And that was what Alsi would have liked to hear, for his speech seemed to say that thus it was, and maybe that he did not altogether like the choice.

But now Alsi said to Berthun, “Bring in the bridegroom.”

“Whom shall I bring, lord?” the steward asked in blank wonder, and Alsi whispered his answer.

At that Berthun’s hands flew up, and his mouth opened, and he did not stir.

“Go, fool,” said Alsi, and I thought that he would have stamped his foot.

Now I knew who was meant in a moment, and even as the steward took his first step from off the dais to go down the hail to his own entrance, I said to Eglaf, “Here is an end to my service with you. My time is up.”

“Why, what is amiss?”

“The bridegroom is my brother—that is all; and I must be free to serve him as I may.”

“Well, if that is so, you are in luck. But I do not think that either of Grim’s sons can be the man. Big enough are you, certainly, but goodly? Nay, but that red head of yours spoils you.”

I daresay that he would have said more about Raven and Withelm, for a talk was going round; but a hush came suddenly, and then a strange murmur of stifled wonder, for Havelok came into the hall after Berthun, and all eyes were turned to him.

Now I saw my brother smile as he came, seeing someone whom he liked first of all; and then he looked up the hall, and at once his face became ashy pale, for he saw what was to be done. Yet he went on firmly, looking neither to right nor left, until he came to the high place. There he caught my eye, and I made a little sign to him to show that I knew his trouble.

They came to the step, and Berthun stood aside to let Havelok pass, and then Alsi held out his hand to raise my brother to the high place. But Havelok seemed not to see that, stepping up by himself as the king bade him come. Then the women who were in the hall spoke to one another in a murmur that seemed of praise; but whiter and more white grew the princess, so that I feared that she would faint. But she did not; and presently there seemed to come into her eyes some brave resolve, and she was herself again, looking from Alsi to Havelok, and again at Alsi.

Now, too, the king looked at him up and down, as one who measures his man before a fight. And when he met Havelok’s eyes he grew red, and turned away to the folk below him.

“So, friends,” he cried, “what say you? Am I true to the words of my oath in allowing this marriage?”

There was not one there who did not know Havelok, whom they called Curan; and though all thought these doings strange, there was a hum of assent, for the oath said naught of the station in life of the bridegroom. Good King Ethelwald had been too trustful.

“That is well,” said Alsi, with a grave face. “All here will bear witness that this was not done without counsel taken. Now, let the bridegroom sit in his place here to my right.”

He waved his hand, and Havelok sat down on the bench that faced Goldberga; and now he looked long at her with a look that seemed to be questioning. Alsi was going to his seat in the cross bench, where the parents of the couple are wont to sit at a wedding while the vows are made, but he seemed to bethink himself. It is my belief that he said what he did in order to shame both Havelok and Goldberga.

“Why, it is not seemly that the bridegroom should sit alone without one to be by him. Where are your friends, Curan?”

At that Alsi met with more than he bargained for. At once Berthun came forward, and forth came I, and without a word we sat one on each side of him. There were others who would have come also, for I saw even Eglaf take a step towards the high place, had we not done so.

Alsi’s face became black at that, for here was not the friendless churl he was scoffing at. But he tried to smile, as if pleased.

“Why, this is well,” he said. “Good it is to see a master helping his man, and a soldier ready to back a comrade of a sort. Now we have witnesses. Let us go on with the wedding.”

Now the golden loving cup that was used at the feasts had been filled and set at a little side table that stood there, and it was to be the bride cup that should be drunk between the twain when all was settled. So Alsi took this cup and held it, while he sat in the place of the father of the bride. Now, I knew nothing of what should he done, but Berthun did so, and well he took my brother’s part, having undertaken for him thus.

“It is the custom,” said Alsi, “that the bridegroom should state what he sets forth of the dowry to the bride.”

Whereat Berthun, without hesitation, spoke hastily to Havelok, and told him to let him answer, meaning, as I have not the least doubt, to promise all that he had saved in long years of service. But Havelok smiled a little, and set his hand to his neck, and I remembered one thing that he had—a ring which had always hung on a cord under his jerkin since he came to Grimsby, and which my father had bidden him keep ever.

“This give I,” he said, setting it on the floor at his feet, “and with it all that I am, and all that I shall hereafter be, and all that shall be mine at any time.”

Alsi looked at the ring as it flashed before him, and his face changed. No such jewel had he in all his treasures, for it was of dwarf work in gold, set with a deep crimson stone that was like the setting sun for brightness. I do not know whence these stones came, unless it were from the East. Eleyn the queen, his mother, was thence, and I know now that the ring was hers. But I think that when Alsi saw this he half repented of the match, though he had gone too far now to draw back. So he bowed, and said that it was well, as he would have said had there been nothing forthcoming.

Then Berthun, in his turn, asked for the bridegroom that the dowry of the bride should be stated for all to hear.

“The wealth left my niece by her father,” said Alsi. “The matter of the kingdom is for the Witan of the East Anglians to settle.”

Then came from out the king’s chamber two men bearing bags of gold, and that was set before the princess. It was a noble dowry, and honest was the king in this matter at least.

Now were the vows to be said and the bride cup to be drunk, and that was the hardest part of all to Havelok.

Slowly he rose as the king held it out to him, and he took it from his hand and stood before Goldberga; and she, too, rose and faced him, and for a moment they stood thus, surely the most handsome couple that had ever been.

Then Havelok said, looking in the clear eyes of the princess, “This have I sworn, that I will wed no unwilling bride. It is but for you to say one word, and the cup falls, and all is ended.”

Alsi started at that, and I thought he was going to speak, but he held his peace. Still as a rock was Havelok while he waited for the answer, and the folk in the hall were as still as he. They began to see that all was not right as the king would have it thought.

Once the princess looked at Alsi, and that with pride in her face, and then she looked long and steadfastly at Havelok, and one by one his fingers loosened themselves on the golden stem of the cup, that she might know him ready for her word.

Then she put forth her hand and closed it round his strong fingers, that he must hold it fast by her doing, and that was all that was needed. It was more than words could have told. And she smiled as she did it.

And at that a light came on Havelok’s face, and he smiled gravely back at her, and he said in a low voice that shook a little, “May the gods so treat me as I treat you, my princess. Can it be that you will trust me thus?”

She answered in no words, but I saw her hand tighten over his, and her eyes never left his face.

Then Havelok raised his other hand, and took that of Goldberga, which was on the cup, and faced to the people.

“Thus do I pledge her who shall be henceforward my wife through good and ill; and may Odin, Freya, and Niord be witnesses of my oath of faith to her in all that the word may mean.”

So he drank, and I stole a glance at the king. Never saw I a man so amazed, for to him the Danish names of the Asir had come as some sort of a shock, seeing that he had deemed this man, with the name of Curan, a Briton. And he looked at Berthun with a look that seemed to say more than was likely to be pleasant by-and-by. But the steward paid no heed to him.

Now Havelok had made his vow, and he gave the cup to the princess; and she, too, turned a little toward the people, but still she looked on Havelok.

“Faith shall answer to faith,” she said in a clear voice. “Here do I take this man for my husband, in the sight of God, and with you all as witnesses, and I pray that the blessing of Him may be on us both.”

So she drank also, and Havelok stopped and raised the wondrous ring from where it had been unheeded on the floor, and took the band of Goldberga, and set it on her finger, and kissed the hand ere he let it go.

But Goldberga lifted her face toward him, and he bent and kissed her forehead, and so they were wedded.

I have heard men scoff at the thought of love at first sight, but never can any one of us do so who saw this wedding.