The Black Jarl/Chapter 10
CHAPTER X.
THE HOUSE OF HARALD.
SOON after the coming of the dawn, Svend the Bloody gave the sign for departure.
Out along the forest trail they rode, Svend and Magnus in the lead, and Edvard Haakonsson riding but a pace behind them. Cheering thralls urged them on their way. It was a splendid company, the pick of Svend's warriors, with their best armor and weapons, a handful of his most beautiful shield maidens led by Brynhild, and thralls in fresh kirtles—the best and strongest and most handsome thralls.
Those left behind looked upon the departure with varying emotions, for all of them would have gone. Some of them, notably the men-at-arms, expected to go shortly, since there had been whisperings, and one of Magnus's most trusted men had been left behind in command. Even Rolf, the stolid shipmaster, gave evidences of excitement and breathed like an old war horse, which was unusual in itself.
The march was taken leisurely and in comfort through the cool woods. And when the dusk came the company was within a short distance of Harald's house. They camped in the dark forest aisles, building huge fires and roasting meat. No tent was pitched save that of Svend, for the others chose to sleep on the ground, on couches of pine needles.
Again they were up at dawn. Svend sent two men ahead to announce their approach to Harald, and then gave commands that everything be put in condition for a proper showing. Wherefore, weapons were scoured again and secretly sharpened, helmets were burnished, and armor newly rubbed.
The bright sun was high in the heavens when finally they came to the great clearing before the house of Harald the Just. The gates and doors stood wide open. Thralls in holiday attire ran among the buildings. Gay banners had been flung from the walls.
Svend the Bloody led his gallant company to within a short distance of the gates, and there he stopped and waited. Harald the Just came forth to greet him, his men at his back. Svend dismounted and walked slowly forward, his face inscrutable, Magnus stalking at his side.
"Hail, Svend!" cried Harald the Just, raising his hand. "Hail Svend, my neighbor!"
"Hail!" Svend replied.
"Do you come in peace or war?"
Svend seemed to hesitate a moment at the question, but only for a moment. He was committed to this nefarious enterprise, and he could not retreat now.
"We come in peace!" he said.
"Then is my house yours, Svend the Bloody! Enter, and order as you will, and your company with you. Your maidens will be greeted by those of my household, your warriors by mine. There is food for your thralls, and places of rest. This evening we feast!"
Now there was a tumult as Svend's company dismounted and thralls led the horses away. Men-at-arms pretended a friendship that they scarcely felt. Though their words were fair when they mingled, yet they watched one another closely, for the two houses had long been enemies, and such things are not forgotten in the passing of a few days.
Edvard Haakonsson entered the great hall with Svend and the others, and Harald turned for a moment to greet him particularly. The Ax Thrower chaffed because he was compelled by courtesy to stand there with the others and exchange meaningless phrases. It was Thyra his eyes sought, and none other.
He glanced around the great room, at its giant fireplace, its long tables already placed for the evening feast. Toward one end there was a short flight of stone steps that led up to a landing and a heavy door. Edvard Haakonsson sensed that this led to the women's quarters, and that Thyra's room was there.
Yet it was quite some time before he saw her. Svend and his men were assigned to quarters, and mingled with Harald's men. Svend and Magnus retired as though to wash the dust of the journey from their hands and faces, but in reality to whisper more of the plot.
"The men were to have left a short time behind us, jarl, and to have passed the night in the woods," Magnus said. "They will be at the edge of the forest by nightfall, or a little before."
"Some straying thrall of Harald's may see them and give the alarm."
"Any straying thrall who sees them will see nothing more on this earth," Magnus growled. "I have given orders covering everything."
"You have planned the signal?"
"I have, jarl. When you signal to me, then will I pass the signal on to the others. When we strike here in Harald's house, the men in the woods will rush in before Harald and his men-at-arms realize what is happening."
"Make certain that you forget nothing," Svend directed. "And Brynhild must be warned at the proper moment, so that the maidens may rush out of harm's way. This is an enterprise in which we must win or die! Great Thor, give us strength!"
"Brynhild, shall be warned."
"And—my kinsman—"
"I shall attend to the black jarl," Magnus promised, his face growing suddenly dark. "Between Edvard Haakonsson and myself there is a blood feud."
"Why?" Svend demanded. "For reasons other than mine?"
"Brynhild!" Magnus said.
"Ha! You want the maiden? Then you shall have her, Magnus, when this business is at an end!"
Down in the great hall Edvard the Ax Thrower had been greeting men, but meantime making his way slowly along the wall and toward the landing he had seen. And after a time the door at the top of the flight of steps was opened slowly, and Thyra stepped out.
For a moment she stood looking down at the scene of confusion, then she caught sight of the Ax Thrower, and her face flushed and her eyes glistened. Her hands clutched at her breast, which rose and fell with emotion. And then she slowly descended toward him, and he went forward to greet her.
"Thyra!" he breathed.
"Edvard! My Ax Thrower!"
"All is well with you?"
"All is well," she replied.
"I have been counting the days."
"And I also," she whispered. "I am going to feed my hounds. You may come with me."
It was a clever subterfuge to get alone with him, and he realized it. Across the great hall they went, men bowing before him and the jarl's daughter. Out into the open they walked, where Thyra beckoned some thralls and bade them fetch meat. And so they went to one end of the great building, where a pack of hounds waited.
She left him for a moment, took chunks of meat from the thralls, and walked out among the hounds. They leaped around her, but only in play. They sprang back when she commanded them, and waited until she tossed the meat.
All but one of the thralls retired, and Thyra walked back to Edvard's side.
"It seems the lifetime of a man since I have seen you," he said.
"It seems long to me, too."
"Is this the time to speak to your father?"
"We must wait," she said. "A little longer must we keep our love a secret. Wait until my father is sure that Svend the Bloody means sincere friendship. But do you be with my father as much as it is possible, and teach him to trust you. Perhaps, before you go away again, the word may be said."
She looked up at him with love shining in her eyes, and he would have kissed her had he been sure that no one would have seen. For a moment he did hold her hand.
But they were not alone in the world. Not that the thrall mattered, for he was not to be taken into consideration, but there was another who watched with eyes flaming in hate.
Brynhild had seen Edvard Haakonsson greet Thyra, and had been watching him before the greeting. Her woman's intuition told her the truth. And when they left the house she followed at a little distance, though careful not to be seen by them. And she was standing at the corner of the great house now, watching the love light as it danced in their eyes. A moment she watched, then turned swiftly, her face black with rage, and reëntered the great hall.
Magnus came from his visit with Svend, and the shield maiden claimed his ear.
"The black jarl is in love with Harald's daughter," she whispered. "I have been watching them. He prefers that white face to me!"
"They are of a kind—small and soft," Magnus replied. "As we are of a kind—big and strong."
"That he turns from me to her!"
"Yet is your revenge near," Magnus whispered. "Already I have spoken to Svend, and he has promised me your hand. And before the sun rises again I shall have claimed it."
"You mean—"
"That Edvard Haakonsson never will wed the jarl's daughter—or any other woman," Magnus said. "At a later time I shall tell you more. Be near me, and watch me closely, when the feast begins!"
She nodded assent, and Magnus walked away. And through the door came Edvard and Thyra again, and they stopped at the bottom of the flight of stone steps, and for a moment whispered together. Then the jarl's daughter hurried up to her room, while Edvard Haakonsson, his face radiant, turned aside to mingle with the men.