Eric grew red as dawn, and thanked her graciously; but after the feast he spoke with Skallagrim, asking him of the Gudruda, and when she could be ready to take the sea.
"In ten days, lord," said Skallagrim; "but stay we not here with the King this winter? It is late to sail.""Nay," said Eric, "we bide not here. I would winter this year in Fareys, for they are the nighest place to Iceland that I may reach.
Next summer my three years of outlawry are over, and I would fare back homewards.""Now, I see the shadow of a woman's hand," said Skallagrim. "It is very late to face the northern seas, and we may sail to Iceland from London in the spring.""It is my will that we should sail," answered Eric.
"Past Orkneys runs the road to Fareys," said Skallagrim, "and in Orkneys sits a hawk to whom the Lady Elfrida is but a dove. In faring from ill we may hap on worse.""It is my will that we sail," said Eric stubbornly.
"As thou wilt, and as the King wills," answered Skallagrim.
On the morrow Eric went in before the King, and craved a boon.
"There is little that thou canst ask, Brighteyes," said the King, "that I will not give thee, for, by my troth, I hold thee dear.""I am come back to seek no great thing, lord," answered Eric, "but this only: leave to bid thee farewell. I would wend homeward.""Say, Eric," said the King, "have I not dealt well with thee?""Well, and overwell, lord."
"Why, then, wouldst thou leave me? I have this in my mind--to bring thee to great honour. See, now, there is a fair lady in this court, and in her veins runs blood that even an Iceland viking might be proud to mate with. She has great lands, and, mayhap, she shall have more.
Canst thou not find a home on them, thinkest thou, Brighteyes?""In Iceland only I am at home, lord," said Eric.
Then the King was wroth, and bade him begone when it pleased him, and Eric bowed before him and went out.
Two days afterwards, while Eric was walking in the Palace gardens he met the Lady Elfrida face to face. She held white flowers in her hand, and she was fair to see and pale as the flowers she bore.
He greeted her, and, after a while, she spoke to him in a gentle voice: "They say that thou goest from England, Brighteyes?" she said.
"Yes, lady; I go," he answered.
She looked on him once and twice and then burst out weeping. "Why goest thou hence to that cold land of thine?" she sobbed--"that hateful land of snow and ice! Is not England good enough for thee?""I am at home there, lady, and there my mother waits me.""'There thy mother waits thee,' Eric?--say, does a maid called Gudruda the Fair wait thee there also?""There is such a maid in Iceland," said Eric.
"Yes; I know it--I know it all," she answered, drying her tears, and of a sudden growing cold and proud; "Eric, thou art betrothed to this Gudruda; and, for thy welfare, somewhat overfaithful to thy troth. For hearken, Eric Brighteyes. I know this: that little luck shall come to thee from the maid Gudruda. It would become me ill to say more;nevertheless, this is true--that here, in England, good fortune waits thy hand, and there in Iceland such fortune as men mete to their foes.
Knowest thou this?"
Eric looked at her and answered: "Lady," he said, "men are not born of their own will, they live and do little that they will, they do and go, perchance, whither they would not. Yet it may happen to a man that one meets him whose hand he fain would hold, if it be but for an hour's travel over icy ways; and it is better to hold that hand for this short hour than to wend his life through at a stranger's side.""Perhaps there is wisdom in thy folly," said the Lady Elfrida. "Still, I tell thee this: that no good luck waits thee there in Iceland.""It well may be," said Eric: "my days have been stormy, and the gale is still brewing. But it is a poor heart that fears the storm. Better to sink; for, coward or hero, all must sink at last.""Say, Eric," said the lady, "if that hand thou dost desire to hold is lost to thee, what then?""If that hand is cold in death, then henceforth I wend my ways alone.""And if it be held of another hand than thine?""Then I will journey back to England, lady, and here in this fair garden I may crave speech of thee again."They looked one on another. "Fare thee well, Eric!" said the Lady Elfrida. "Here in this garden we may talk again; and, if we talk no more--why, fare thee well! Days come and go; the swallow takes flight at winter, and lo! at spring it twitters round the eaves. And if it come not again, then farewell to that swallow. The world is a great house, Eric, and there is room for many swallows. But alas! for her who is left desolate--alas, alas!" And she turned and went.
It is told of this lady Elfrida that she became very wealthy and was much honoured for her gentleness and wisdom, and that, when she was old, she built a great church and named it Ericskirk. It is also told that, though many sought her in marriage, she wedded none.
