"And for this matter of the death of Bj?rn at my hands, think, Gudruda: was I to blame in it? Did not Bj?rn thrust the cloven shield before my feet, and thus give me into the hand of Ospakar? Did he not afterwards smite at me from behind, and would he not have slain me if Skallagrim had not caught the blow? Was I, then, to blame if I smote back and if the sword flew home? Wilt thou let the needful deed rise up against our love? Speak, Gudruda!""Talk no more of love to me, Eric," she answered; "the blood of Bj?rn has blotted out our love: it cries to me for vengeance. How may Ispeak of love with him who slew my brother? Listen!" she went on, looking on him sidelong, as one who wished to look and yet not seem to see: "here thou must hide an hour, and, since thou wilt not sit in silence, speak no tender words to me, for it is not fitting; but tell me of those deeds thou didst in the south lands over sea, before thou wentest to woo Swanhild and camest hither to kill my brother. For till then thou wast mine--till then I loved thee--who now love thee not.
Therefore I would hear of the deeds of that Eric whom once I loved, before he became as one dead to me.""Heavy words, lady," said Eric--"words to make death easy.""Speak not so," she said; "it is unmanly thus to work upon my fears.
Tell me those tidings of which I ask."
So Eric told her all his deeds, though he showed small boastfulness about them. He told her how he had smitten the war-dragons of Ospakar, how he had boarded the Raven and with Skallagrim slain those who sailed in her. He told her also of his deeds in Ireland, and of how he took the viking ships and came to London town.
And as he told, Gudruda listened as one who hung upon her lover's dying words, and there was but one light in the world for her, the light of Eric's eyes, and there was but one music, the music of his voice. Now she looked upon him sidelong no longer, but with open eyes and parted lips she drank in his words, and always, though she knew it not herself, she crept closer to his side.
Then he told her how he had been greatly honoured of the King of England, and of the battles he had fought in at his side. Lastly, Eric told her how the King would have given him a certain great lady of royal blood in marriage, and how Edmund had been angered because he would not stay in England.
"Tell me of this lady," said Gudruda, quickly. "Is she fair, and how is she named?""She is fair, and her name is Elfrida," said Eric.
"And didst thou have speech with her on this matter?""Somewhat."
Now Gudruda drew herself away from Eric's side.
"What was the purport of thy speech?" she said, looking down. "Speak truly, Eric.""It came to little," he answered. "I told her that there was one in Iceland to whom I was betrothed, and to Iceland I must go.""And what said this Elfrida, then?"
"She said that I should get little luck at the hands of Gudruda the Fair. Moreover, she asked, should my betrothed be faithless to me, or put me from her, if I should come again to England."Now Gudruda looked him in the face and spoke. "Say, Eric, is it in thy mind to sail for England in the spring, if thou canst escape thy foes so long?"Now Eric took counsel with himself, and in his love and doubt grew guileful as he had never been before. For he knew well that Gudruda had this weakness--she was a jealous woman.
"Since thou dost put me from thee, that is in my mind, lady," he answered.
Gudruda heard. She thought on the great and beauteous Lady Elfrida, far away in England, and of Eric walking at her side, and sorrow took hold of her. She said no word, but fixed her dark eyes on Brighteyes' face, and lo! they filled with tears.
Eric might not bear this sight, for his heart beat within him as though it would burst the byrnie over it. Suddenly he stretched out his arms and swept her to his breast. Soft and sweet he kissed her, again and yet again, and she struggled not, though she wept a little.
"It is small blame to me," she whispered, "if thou dost hold me on thy breast and kiss me, for thou art more strong than I. Bj?rn must know this if his dead eyes see aught. Yet for thee, Eric, it is the greatest shame of all thy shames.""Talk not, my sweet; talk not," said Eric, "but kiss thou me: for thou knowest well that thou lovest me yet as I love thee."Now the end of it was that Gudruda yielded and kissed him whom she had not kissed for many years.
"Loose me, Eric," she said; "I would speak with thee," and he loosed her, though unwillingly.
"Hearken," she went on, hiding her fair face in her hands: "it is true that for life and death I love thee now as ever--how much thou mayest never know. Though Bj?rn be dead at thy hands, yet I love thee; but how I may wed thee and not win the greatest shame, that I know not. Iam sure of one thing, that we may not bide here in Iceland. Now if, indeed, thou lovest me, listen to my rede. Get thee back to Mosfell, Eric, and sit there in safety through this winter, for they may not come at thee yonder on Mosfell. Then, if thou art willing, in the spring I will make ready a ship, for I have no ship now, and, moreover, it is too late to sail. Then, perchance, leaving all my lands and goods, I will take thy hand, Eric, and we will fare together to England, seeking such fortune as the Norns may give us. What sayest thou?""I say it is a good rede, and would that the spring were come.""Ay, Eric, would that the spring were come. Our lot has been hard, and I doubt much if things will go well with us at the last. And now thou must hence, for presently the serving-women will come to seek me.
Guard thyself, Eric, as thou lovest me--guard thyself, and beware of Swanhild!" Then once more they kissed soft and long, and Eric went.
But Gudruda sat a while behind the screen of reeds, and was very happy for a space. For it was as though the winter were past and summer shone upon her heart again.
