CHAPTER XI

OF OSBERT AND TORFRIDA

From the field of Winwid Osbert was taken by Sigmund to his hall at Lindum, and when the wounds that Feargus had given to him were healed, he made a great friendship with king Sigmund and became his man, for he thought with the king’s aid so to work that he might win Torfrida. The lands of Sigmund marched with those of Osbert, and by compassing the death of the youth Edwy and wedding Torfrida, he could join the two lands and be a great ruler. And Sigmund having so famous a captain to do his bidding, with all his warriors, waxed strong. And finding that his son Edwy set his face against any friendship with Osbert and was, moreover, not of a mind to make war—for war he hated—Sigmund found little pleasure in the boy and gave all his counsel to Osbert. Much Osbert sought the company of Torfrida, and though she would have kept aloof, she knew that her father wished her to wed him and dare not thwart him openly. So he ran daily to do her bidding and many services he rendered, thinking to put her in his debt, but she treated him ill until her father seeing, spoke.

“Thy father wills that thou shouldst marry the prince Osbert who is a great and comely man, and such as the daughter of the proudest king might wed with.”

Then Torfrida said: “Never will I, who have been betrothed to the noblest warrior of all this land, wed such as Osbert, who was ever his enemy and brought ruin upon both him and me.”

Then Sigmund was angry and many bitter words were between them, and Torfrida wept; but the king put her from him and showed his anger in many ways until the life of Torfrida became a burden to her. Then, through the counsel of Osbert, Edwy was sent away across the seas and had no choice but to go; so she had no counsellor, and every hand seemed against her. And Osbert only had soft words and was quick to serve her, and so at length, as the dropping of water weareth a stone, she began to give way, for little she recked what befell her. And she was so full of heaviness that she found relief even in the presence of the enemy of Feargus, for her father willed that no other person should have speech of her. And so when she rode out Osbert rode with her, and though she treated him with scant courtesy he still endured. On a day it chanced that they were riding by the outskirts of the town of Nottingham, where they were then staying, when Torfrida saw a group of youths gathered round some object which they hardly wotted whether to call man or beast, so huge and hairy was it.

“See,” said she, “what have we here—what manner of beast is this? Mercy, it is a man!”

“What else is there that hath shape like to that of man?”

“Nay, but never saw I man like this one. Of a surety, prince, he must be mad—but see, these lads will kill him.”

“Tut! the killing of him will be little loss; but ha! ha! ha! he seemeth well able to ward himself. Surely he is a giant.”

“Prince, I had a mother that was ever kind and loved her kin, sure am I that that man is of her race by what chance soever he hath come here. Now, I beg thee, if thou wilt do a lady service, save him; dost thou not see he weareth the plaid of an Albanich—but quick, they stone him—ha! what a lion he looks! Faith, he is almost comely despite his madness! How well he holdeth himself! Hasten, good Osbert!”

“Good Osbert! the lady flattereth; these ears are little used to words of grace from their lady’s lips.”

“Go, go, I beg thee.”

“Nay, most maidens would be afraid of such a monster.”

“I tell thee my mother came from the Picts or Albanich as they call themselves, that dwell in the mountains of Galloway. I quail not at my kin, but thou seemest to quail, so long thou tarriest. Oh, had I but my gentle Edwy here to do my bidding!”

“Nay, now will I go,” said Osbert, drawing his sword.

“Put up thy sword then else will he think thou art come against him.”

“I go not against a stranger unsworded,” and so he went forward, little liking the task. And then the wild man looked up and seeing a warrior, all armed, riding forth, thought that he came against him. Nothing loth, he burst out from among the boys and sprang upon his supposed new foe. Seizing the horse by the bridle he forced it back upon its haunches, and with his long staff struck its rider to the earth. For a while Osbert lay without movement on the grass, such a dunt had he gotten. Then, seeing that he was a great thane, some of the youths ran forward and lifted him, and he started to his feet, and his anger and shame were great, and no sooner was he afoot than he ran at the stranger, sword in hand, though the wild man held but a staff, which Osbert judged to be his only weapon. Not so, however, Torfrida, who had taken note of the spear and bow of great length which he carried at his back half hidden in the folds of his ragged plaid. So when the thane turned fiercely upon the wild man she thought of her mother and of Feargus and his clansmen, who had done so much for her, and her heart was full of pity for him, and again she appealed to Osbert to spare him. Then seeing he did not heed, she rode forward, and speaking in the Pictish tongue said: “Draw thy spear, brave stranger, and defend thee, for a great swordsman hast thou now to deal with, but shed not his blood, I charge thee, for thine own sake; and if thou dost as I tell thee, I will befriend thee and no hurt shalt thou get.”

The man started aback on hearing his own speech, and his strength seemed to fail him. Wildly and long he gazed upon her, and his spear shook as he made to draw it forth, and his knees quaked and rocked beneath him; then he leant upon his staff as one like to fall. But on came Osbert, now mounted upon his horse. Then as suddenly the stranger grew tall again, and too late to draw forth his spear, quickly caught Osbert’s blow on his staff, and such was the force of it, that it was cut in twain. Then, sure of victory, Osbert aimed his blows, but with wondrous skill and quickness the stranger caught them on the broken staff.

Then Torfrida cried out: “Oh, coward, faint of heart, to attack staff with steel! Shame be upon thee!” and turning to the stranger she cast her own small sword, which she used for killing game, at his feet, saying in the Gaelic: “Take thou this; though it be but a maiden’s, much may such as thou seemest do with it.”

Then the wild man, striking up the sword of Osbert once again, brought his broken staff down upon the head of his beast with such strength that it reeled and fell over on to the ground. But lightly the horseman sprang down while his antagonist stooped and lifted Torfrida’s sword. Then put they their steel together, and the thane was still sure of the victory, though greatly he marvelled at the wild man’s length of limb and largeness of muscle. And foot to foot they went, and many a pass and downstroke did Osbert try, but in vain; ever the wild man with his small sword was before him, and ever wearier Osbert grew, whiles the stranger waxed stronger, beating down his guard. And all the youths and Torfrida marvelled at such a wondrous swordsmith. At length he sent the brand of Osbert from his hand with a quick turn, and utterly abashed before the lady’s eyes, the thane stood defenceless.

Then said Torfrida to him: “Badly hast thou fared by attempting the life of a madman. Of great quickness in swordsmanship truly art thou, and well hast thou granted the favour I asked, of this poor creature’s life—I wotting not at that time how little it would be risked in combat with thee. Nay, he might well have overcome thee with the broken staff as he meant to do.”

Then Feargus took Osbert’s sword and her own and offered them to Torfrida. And she said: “Nay, keep thou the thane’s sword, thou hast fairly won it, and it is well wrought and will serve thee; and I see thou knowest how to be gentle with women and hast obeyed me, and I owe thee thanks for sparing the life of this braggart. Thou shalt not lack a friend or any that weareth the plaid while I can help. Follow me an’ thou wilt, gentle Pict.”

Willingly he obeyed, and the lines on his brow grew deep and his face became as that of one who laboureth with some great thought, and like a dog he followed, with his head sunk on his breast, but never a word had he spoken. And so he followed her thereafter in all her outgoings, and at night lay on the threshold. And he walked always with troubled brow, looking neither to the right hand nor the left, nor heeded nor obeyed any person, not even the king, except Torfrida. And when she was present he gazed only upon her, from beneath his matted locks, and when she was away his eyes were ever downcast and his feet knew no rest.