Chapter 20

THE LAST OF GRIFFIN OF WALES.

Maybe it was about an hour before midnight when the first waking came to any of us, and then it was Biorn himself who was roused by footsteps that stayed at the doorway itself, after coming across the garth, and then a voice that was strange to him which bade him open. At once he caught up his axe and went to the door, and asked quietly who was there.

“Open at once,” said the man who was without; “we must speak with you.”

“Go hence, I pray you, and wait for morning,” said the sheriff. “Here are guests of the jarl’s, and they must not be disturbed.”

“Open, or we will open for ourselves,” was the answer. “We have no time to stay here talking.”

“That is no honest speech,” quoth Biorn. “Go hence, or give me your errand from without.”

“Open, fool, or we will have the door down.”

“There is an axe waiting for you if you do that. I rede you go hence in peace, or it may be worse for you in the end.”

I suppose it was in the mind of the sheriff that here were some friends of his who had been overlong at the ale bench in the hall that evening; but on this there was a little talk outside, and then the crash of a great stone that was hurled against the door; and at that he started back and got his mail shirt on him, for the door was strong enough to stand many such blows yet. It seemed that there was more than a drunken frolic on hand. Then came another stone against the door, and it shook; and at the same moment Havelok came from his chamber to see what was amiss, for the noise had waked him. He had thrown on the feasting gear that he had been wearing; but he had neither mail nor helm, though he had his axe in his hand.

“What is the noise?” he said anxiously, seeing that Biorn was arming.

The sheriff told him quickly, and again the door was battered.

“It is a pity that a good door should be spoilt,” said Havelok, “for down it is bound to come thus. Stand you there with the axe, and I will even save them the trouble of breaking in.”

“Nay,” said Biorn; “we know not how many are there, and it were better that you should arm first. There is time.”

“Why, they think that you are alone in the house, no doubt, and will run when they find out their mistake. They are common thieves from the forest, or outlaws. Stand you by to cut down the first man that dares to enter, if there happen to be one bold enough.”

He set his axe down, and went to the bar, and began to slide it back into the deep socket that would let it free, and the men outside stayed their blows as they heard it scraping. It was a very heavy bar of oak, some seven feet long, and over a palm square.

“Now!” cried Havelok, and caught the bar from its place.

He did not take the trouble to set it down and get his axe; but as the door opened a little he stood back balancing the great beam in his hands, as a boy would handle a quarterstaff, ready for the rush of the thieves that he expected, and so he was in the way of Biorn more or less.

Now there was silence outside, and one saw that the door was free, and set his foot to it, and flung it open, for it went inwards. And then Havelok knew that there was a stern fight before him, for the moonlight showed the grim form of Griffin, the Welsh thane, fully armed and ready.

“Stand back, friend,” cried Biorn hastily, fearing for the unarmed man, and caring nothing that beyond the foremost was a group of some half dozen more warriors.

But he spoke too late, for as Griffin stepped back a pace on seeing his enemy himself in the doorway, Havelok had gone a pace forward, and now was outside, where he had a clear swing of his unhandy weapon.

Now Griffin gathered himself together, and spoke some few words to his men in his own tongue; but my brother paid no heed to them, for he knew what the way of the Briton was likely to be. And he was not wrong, for without warning Griffin flew on him, sword point foremost, and left handed, for he might not use the right for many a long day yet.

Biorn shouted; but Havelok was ready, and the heavy bar caught and shivered the light sword, and then swung and hurled the thane back among his men with a rib broken. Havelok followed that up, falling on the men even as their leader was among their feet. Two he felled with downright strokes, and another shrank away in time to save himself from the like fate. Then a fourth got in under his guard, and wounded Havelok slightly in the left arm; and unless Biorn had been out and beside him by that time it would have gone hard with him, for both those who were left were on him, and another was hanging back for a chance to come.

There was shouting enough now, for the Briton does not fight in silence as do the northern men, and we had waked. First of all Raven ran down to the great room, half dazed with sleep, and blaming himself for all this trouble, for he had seen that a ship was coming in, and he might have thought it possible that it had brought Griffin and his men, whose tongue had told him at once what had happened.

Now he called to us to arm quickly, and sought for a weapon for himself; and in that familiar place he went to the old corner where the oars were wont to be set. There was one, for I have said that this Biorn was a fisher, and the place that was handy for us had been so for him. That was a homely weapon to Raven, and out into the moonlight he came with it, and swept a Welshman away from Havelok’s side as he came. But now more men were coming—townsfolk who had been roused by the noise—and they knew nothing of the attackers, and so thought them friends of ours, who joined us in falling on their sheriff; and there was a wild confusion when Withelm and I came down armed.

But what we saw first was a dim, white figure in the doorway of the other room; and there stood Goldberga, wide eyed and trembling.

“My dream, my dream!” she said.

But of that we knew nothing; and we could but tell her to be of good courage, for we would win through yet, and so went out to the fight.

By this time Griffin was up again, and as I came from the door he was once more ready to fall on Havelok from behind. So I thought it best to stay him, and I shouted his name, and he turned and made for me. But there was no skill in his coming, or he did not think me worth it, for the axe had the better, and there was an end of Griffin.

Withelm saw at once that Havelok had no weapon but the bar, and he ran to him and held out his own axe.

“Thanks, brother. Mine is inside the door. Get it for me,” said he; but now he was laughing, and doing not much harm to anyone, and as I got behind his back I saw why this was.

There was only one of Griffin’s men left, and all the rest of the crowd of half-armed men were townsfolk. Havelok and Raven were keeping these back with sweeps of their long weapons, and behind them against the wall was the sheriff, swearing and shouting vainly to bid his people hold off and listen to him. And the noise was so great that they did but think that he was calling them to rescue him from these who had taken him prisoner. It seemed that the Welshman was keeping this up also; but neither he nor any of the men cared to risk any nearness to the sweep of bar and long oar in such hands. There were many broken heads in that crowd; but it was growing greater every minute, and those who were coming were well armed, having taken their time over it. They say that there were sixty men there at one time.

Now ran Withelm with the axe, and at that Havelok parted with the door bar, and ended the last Welshman at the same time, for he hurled it at him endwise, like a spear, and it took him full in the chest, and he went down to rise no more. And at that the townsmen ran in, and we were busy for a space, until once more they were in a howling circle round us. But they had wounded Havelok again; and Biorn was at his wit’s end, for he had had to take part in the fight this time. The men were mad with battle, and forgot who he was, as it seemed. And now some raised a cry for bows.

That was the worst thing that we had to fear, and Raven called to us, “Into the house, brothers, and keep them out of it till the jarl comes. He will hear, or be sent for.”

So we went back and got into the doorway, and we could not bar it at first. But Withelm hewed off the blade of Raven’s oar, and I went out and cleared the folk away for a space, and leapt back; and Havelok and I got the door shut quickly against them as they came back on it, and we barred it with the oar loom. That was but pine, however, and it would not last long.

Outside, the people were quiet for a little, wondering, no doubt, how to rescue Biorn. He wanted to go out to them, but it did not seem safe just yet. If they grew more reasonable it might be so.

Then, as we rested thus, Goldberga came quickly, for she saw that her husband was wounded, and she began to bind his hurts with a scarf she had. She was very pale, but she was not weeping, and her hands did not shake as she went to work.

“This is my dream,” she said. “Was that the voice of Griffin that I heard? It does not seem possible; but there is none other who speaks in the old tongue of Britain here, surely.”

“There is no more fear of him,” said Havelok, looking tenderly at her. “Your dream has come true so far, if he was in it. How did it end?”

“We fled to a tree,” she said, smiling faintly.

Havelok smiled also, for this seemed dream stuff only to all of us—all of us but Withelm, that is, for at once he said, “This door will be down with a few blows. What of that tower of yours, Biorn? Might we not get there and wait till the jarl comes?”

At that Biorn almost shouted.

“That is a good thought, and we can get there easily. Well it will be, also, for the men are wild now, and there have been too many slain and hurt for them to listen to reason.”

“Bide you here,” said Withelm, “for it is we whom they seek. Then you can talk to them.”

But he would not do that, seeing that we had been put in his charge by the jarl.

“I go with you,” he said. “Now, if we climb out of the window that is in the back of the house we can get to the tower before they know we are gone.”

We went into that chamber where Havelok had once been when he was taken from the sack, and even as I unbarred the heavy shutter and took it down, the door began to shake with a fresh attack on it. The trees of the grove were two hundred yards from the house, maybe, and among them loomed high and black the watchtower I had seen from the sea. A wide path had been cut to it, and the moonlight shone straight down this to the door of the building.

Now Biorn went out first, and then he helped out Goldberga, and after her we made Havelok go; and we called to these three to get to the tower as Withelm came next, for every moment I looked to see our enemies—if they are to be called so when I hardly suppose they knew what they were fighting about—come round to fall on the back of the house.

Because of Goldberga they went; and Biorn opened the tower door, and she passed into the blackness of its entry, but the two men stayed outside for us. And we three were all out of the house when the first of the crowd bethought themselves, and made for the back, and saw us.

At once they raised a shout and a rush, and we did not think it worth while to wait for them, as they would get between us and the tower, which was open for us. So we ran, and they were, some twenty of them, hard at our heels as we reached the door, and half fell inside, for the winding stairway was close to the entry. I think that Biorn and Havelok had made their plans as they saw what was coming, for Havelok followed us and stood in the doorway, while Biorn was just outside with his axe ready.

“Hold hard, friends!” he called, as the men came up and halted before him; “what is all this?”

“Stand aside and let us get at them,” said the foremost, panting.

“Nay,” said Biorn; “what harm have they done?”

“Slain a dozen men and lamed twice as many more,” answered several voices; “have them forth straightway.”

“They were attacked, and defended themselves,” said the sheriff, “and it is no fault of theirs that they had to do their best. Get you home, and I will answer to the jarl for them. They are the jarl’s guests.”

Then was a howl that was strange, and with it voices which seemed to let some light on the matter.

“They have slain the jarl’s guests.”

And then came forward a big black-bearded man whom I had seen in the crowd already, and he squared up to Biorn.

“Lies are no good, master sheriff, for we know that the outlanders who spoke the strange tongue must be the guests who came.”

“I am no liar,” answered Biorn. “Is there not one man here who saw the ship and her folk this afternoon?”

Now this man seemed not to want that question answered, for he shouted to the crowd not to waste time in wrangling, but to have out the murderers; and he took a step towards Biorn, bidding him side no more with the men, but let the folk deal with them.

“You overdo your business as sheriff!” he said.

It was Biorn who wasted no more time, for he saw that here was deeper trouble than a common riot. He lifted his axe.

“Come nearer at your peril,” he said.

Then the black-bearded man sprang at him, and axe met sword for a parry or two, flashing white in the moonlight. Then one weapon flashed red suddenly, and it was Biorn’s, and back into the tower he sprang as his foe fell, and Havelok flung the door to, and I barred it.

“Up,” said Biorn; and in the dark we stumbled from stair to stair, while the crowd howled and beat on the door below us. It was good to get out into the moonlight on the roof, where we could rest. I was glad that the tower was there instead of Thor, and also that it was strong. It was no great height, but wide, and the men below looked comfortably far off at all events.

“Here is a fine affair,” quoth Biorn, sitting himself down with his back against the high stone wall round the tower top. “It will take me all my time to set this right.”

“You have stood by us well, friend,” Havelok said, “and it is a pity that you have had to share our trouble so far as this. Who was the man who fell on you?”

“That is the trouble,” answered Biorn, “for there will be more noise over him than all the rest. He was Hodulf’s steward, the man who gathers the scatt, and therefore is not liked. And all men know that there was no love lost between him and me.”

“Hodulf’s man,” said I; “how long has he been here, and is he a Norseman?”

For I knew him. He was the man who had spoken to me at the boat side when we had to fly—one, therefore, who knew all of the secret of Havelok.

“Ay, one of the Norsemen who came here with the king at the first, and is almost the last left of that crew. I suppose that you have heard the story.”

We had, in a way that the honest sheriff did not guess, and I only nodded. But I thought that we had got rid of an enemy in him, and that Griffin had fallen in with him on landing, and known him, and taken him into his counsel about us. He would have gone down to see the vessel and collect the king’s dues from her and from us at the same time. He had not come into the town till late, as we heard afterwards.

There was no time for asking more now, however, for the shouts of the men round the door ceased, and someone gave orders, as if there was a plan to be carried out. So I went and looked over on the side where the door was to see what was on hand.

It was about what one would have expected. They had got the trunk of a tree, and were going to batter the door in. But now we were all armed, for Raven had brought Havelok’s gear with him when he fetched his own. He had thought also for Goldberga, and she was sitting in the corner of the tower walls wrapped in a great cloak that she had used at sea, with her eyes on her husband, unfearing, and as it seemed waiting for the end that her dream foretold.

I called the rest, and we looked down on the men. They saw us, and an arrow or two flew at us, badly aimed in the moonlight.

“Waste of good arrows,” said Havelok; “but we must keep them from the door somehow.”

“Would that the jarl would come,” growled Biorn, “for I do not see how we are to do that.”

“If they do break in,” said I, “any one can hold a stairway like this against a crowd.”

“I do not want to hurt more of these,” answered Havelok, looking round him. And then his eyes lit up, and he laughed. “Why, we can keep them back easily enough, after all.”

He went to the tower corner, and shouted to the men below. Four or five had the heavy log that they were to use as a ram, and they were just about to charge the door with it, and no timber planking can stand that sort of thing.

“Ho, men,” he cried; “set that down, or some of you may get hurt.”

They set up a roar of laughter at him as they heard, and then Havelok laid hold of the great square block of stone that was on the very corner of the wall, and tore it from its setting.

“Odin!” said Biorn, as he saw that, “where do they breed such men as this?”

“Here,” answered Withelm, looking at the sheriff.

Now Havelok hove up the stone over his head, and a sort of gasp went up from the crowd below. One saw what was coming, and ran to drag back the men with the beam, and stopped short before he reached them in terror, crying to them to beware. But their heads were down, and they were starting into a run.

“Halt!” cried Havelok, but they did not stay. “Stand clear!” he shouted in the sailor’s way.

And then he swung the stone and let it go, while those who watched fled back as if it was cast at them. Down is crashed on the attackers, felling the man whom it struck, and dashing the timber from the grasp of the others, so that one fell with it across his leg and lay howling, while the rest gathered themselves up and got away from under the tower as soon as they might.

Now no man dared to come forward, and that angered Havelok.

“Are you going to let these two bide there?” he said. “Pick the poor knaves from under the stone and timber, and see to them.”

But they hung back yet, and he called them “nidring.”

Thereat two or three made a step forward, and one said, “Lord, let us do as you bid us, and harm us not.”

“You are safe,” he answered, and Biorn laughed and said that this was the most wholesome word that he had heard tonight.

“Lord, forsooth! Mighty little of that was there five minutes ago.”

But it was not the terrible stone throwing only that wrung this from them, as I think. They had seen Havelok in his arms, with the light of battle on his face in the broad moonlight, and knew him for a king among men.

They took the hurt men from under the tower, and then crowded together, watching us. And some man must needs loose an arrow at us, and it rang on my mail, and that let loose the crowd again. Soon we had to shelter under the battlement, but they were not able to lodge any arrows among us, for that is a bit of skill that needs daylight. Then they dared to get to the timber once more, and we saw them coming.

Havelok took his helm, and set it on his sword point, and raised it slowly above the wall, and that drew all the arrows in a moment. Then he leapt up, and tore the stone from the other corner; and again, but this time without warning, it fell on the men below, and that wrought more harm than before. But it stayed them for a time, though not so long, for now their blood was up, and the berserk spirit was waking in them. Already the third stone was poised in the mighty hands, and would have fallen, when there was a cry of, “The jarl! the jarl!” and along the path into the clearing galloped Sigurd himself, with his courtmen running behind him, and he called on the men to stay.

They dropped the beam at the command, and were silent. And Sigurd looked up at the tower, and saw who was there, and stayed with his face raised, motionless for a space. I minded how Mord had stared and cried out when first he saw Havelok, the son of Gunnar, in his war gear.

“Biorn! where is Biorn?” cried Sigurd, looking back on the crowd as if he thought he would be there.

“Here am I, jarl,” came the answer, and the sheriff looked out from beside Havelok.

“What is all this?”

“On my word, jarl, I cannot tell. Here have I been beset in my own house, and but for your guests some of us would have come off badly. There were outlanders who fell on us, and, as I think, stirred up the folk to carry on the business, telling them that we had slain ourselves, as one might say, for it was the cry that we had slain the jarl’s guests.”

“O fools, to take up the word of a chance stranger against that of your own sheriff!” Sigurd cried, facing the people.

“Nay, but the steward said so likewise,” cried some.

“Hodulf’s steward?” said the jarl suddenly; “where is he?”

“Yonder. Biorn slew him.”

“He was leading this crowd,” said Biorn from above, “tried to force his way into the tower past me, and would not be warned.”

“What of the outlanders?”

“All slain. Seven Welshmen they were.”

Then I said plainly, remembering that the jarl would have known him, “Their leader was Griffin, who came with Hodulf at the first. What brought him here, think you, Sigurd the jarl?”

But Sigurd looked round on the people, and scanned them for a long time, and at last he said, in a hush that fell when he began to speak, “Men who mind the old days, look at the man whom you have sought to kill, and say if there is that about him which will tell you why Hodulf’s men have set you on him thus.”

Then the white faces turned with one accord to Havelok, as he stood resting the great cornerstone on the battlement before him, and there grew a whisper that became a word and that was almost a shout from the many voices that answered.

“Gunnar! Gunnar Kirkeban come again!”

Then was silence, and the jarl spoke to Havelok.

“Tell us your name, and whence you come.”

“Havelok Grimsson of Grimsby men call me,” he said.

And then men knew who he was indeed, for little by little the secret had been pieced together, if not told from the king’s place, in the years that had passed. And at that there rose and grew a murmur and a cry.

“Havelok, son of Gunnar! Havelok the king!”

Then said Sigurd in a great voice, “Who is for Hodulf of us all? Let no man go hence who is for him.”

And I saw two or three men cut down then and there, and after that there was a roar of voices that called for Havelok to lead them.

“Come down, lord,” said Sigurd, unhelming and looking up.

So we went from the tower, and round Havelok the men crowded, kissing his hand and asking pardon for what they had wrought in error; and Sigurd dismounted and knelt before him, holding forth his sword hilt in token of homage, that his king might touch it.

“Only Havelok son of Gunnar dares call himself son of Grim also, and in that word all the tale is told. But I have known you from the first by the token of the ring and by this likeness. Yet I waited for you to speak, and for the time that should be best; and now that has come of itself, and I am glad.”

So said Sigurd, as we went from the tower to the hall, with the townsmen at our heels in a wondering crowd. There were many among them who would show the wounds that Havelok had given them with pride hereafter, as tokens that they had known him well.

Then we stayed on the steps of the hall door, and the jarl called out man by man, and the war arrow was put in their hands with the names of those men who waited for the coming of Havelok, that all through the night the message that should bring him a mighty host on the morrow should go far and wide.

And the gathering word was, “Come, for the horn of the king is sounding.”

Then Sigurd said, “Speak to the people, my king, and all is done.”

So Havelok smiled, and lifted his voice, and spoke.

“Stand by me, friends, as steadfastly as you have fought against me, and I shall be well content. And see, here is the queen for whom you will fight also. There is not one of you but will play the man under her eyes.”

Not many words or crafty, but men saw his face, and heard that which was in the voice, and they needed no word of reward to come, but shouted as we had shouted when the bride came home to Grimsby, and I thought that with the shout the throne of Hodulf was rocking.