Margaret Ellen Henry-Ruffin

“ Slowly she spoke: “Thou didst send me a ring, King Olaf, as a pledge of thy truth. Are thy promises as true as the metal of this ring, as thy own token?”
Olaf was plainly puzzled at the question. He had never examined the ring and believed it to be genuine gold.
“Queen Sigrid,” he said, with straightforward earnestness, “gold is esteemed the best and truest of all metals; and as true as the ring upon thy hand, so true will I be to thee. I am a Christian, and I would be thy faithful lord, as every true Christian man should be to his lady.” ”

“ Father Meilge glanced across the sward to the spot where Thore stood. The evil eyes had fastened their baneful dart straight in the priest’s face. Father Meilge started as if he had been stung by a serpent, when he met the look. A shudder passed over him. Thore’s glance was so full of hatred that for a moment Father Meilge felt as if the fiery dart of hatred had entered his very soul. Thore saw that the priest had met and understood the look. He laughed bitterly to himself. “Thou mayest well turn pale. Thou wilt be paler still when my vow is kept.” ”

“ Gyda advanced to the front of the platform. Her brother stood beside her, and around them was a throng of bards, warriors, Oolahans, and physicians of the king’s household.
There was a murmur of admiration at the vision of beauty in whose honor they had assembled. The waves of praise passing on to Gyda’s hearing, brought a crimson flush to her face, like a delicate rose taking on a richer tint.
“By the Sign of the White Christ, it is she!” muttered the Norseman. The words were lost to Eogan, whose hearing and sight were concentrated upon the platform. ”

“ Aastrid spoke even lower. “There is one I must not name who would guide thee to destruction. O Olaf, my King! beware of thy false friend, false to thee now, as false to thee in the past.”
“Dear Lady Aastrid, and thou, my Thorgills’ honored lady, have too deeply thought on this matter. Women true and devoted are prone to be ever fearful of danger. There is no one false to me now, for I have won back my lost friend.”
Lady Aastrid wrung her hands despairingly, and Maidoch clasped her hands in pleading. “Beware! my King!” they murmured. “Trust not too far! Beware!” ”

“ A few days later, Thorgills and Maidoch were married,—Father Reachta pronouncing the solemn words that made them man and wife.
Without, in the wind of spring, the ship was setting sail for Ireland, and the voice of the priest came to Maidoch with the shouts and the cheers of the crew, as the sails were unfurled and the ship began her course.
Oh, the hushed heroisms of a woman’s heart! Maidoch uttered her imperishable vows, and bound her soul with that tie that life—inexorable life—cannot break, and that only death—all-conquering death—can destroy. ”

“ Maidoch clasped her hands tightly. “Not dead! Oh, no! dear Lady Aastrid. I can never teach my heart to place him among the dead. My dear lord can never be dead to me. Though he slept in the depths of the sea or lay lifeless on the battlefield, or dead on the desert sands, he is living always to my yearning sight, always to my listening ear, always to my hungry heart. Always I stretch out eager hands to some land that holds my hope. If dead to earth he is, even death cannot divide our plighted souls. ”

“ Nearer came the army of peasants. Thora looked out upon the roadway, the dark path through the forests of Orkadale. They were coming, coming!—a hundred— nay, a thousand—ten thousand! Far down the road, line after line, row after row, horsemen, foot-soldiers, young, old, peasant, thrall and jarl, they swept onward, through the village of Rimul to Thora’s very door.
“Is is Odin or Thor come again to Norway?” asked the terrified women. Never had there been seen a man of such beauty, as he who came into view, the majestically handsome chief. ”

“ The spring morning in the year 995, when the “Alruna” landed on Moster Island, in the Hordaland, Olaf Tryggevesson thought no earthly country could be so fair as Norway. The white mists like soft, filmy veils floated away from the face of rock and fen and blue-waved fiord. The tender verdure made inviting the harsh outline of the shore, while the fleecy clouds glided over the silky sails that fluttered in the strong breeze. The ships landed at the Island, and Thore Klakka went ashore to prepare the king’s tent. ”

“ Then a hundred blond giants rose and swore after him, by the Beard of Brage, the Spear of Odin, and the Hammer of Thor, that Jarl Haakon should go.
A tall, straight figure rose before the earl.
“What is it, Vagn? Speak! Thy sword is ever first in combat and thy voice should be first in council.”
The gigantic follower of Sigvalde lifted his bronze drinking-horn to his lips. “When the day of com-bat comes, my Jarl, and our Jomsvikings turn out the tide of Jarl Haakon’s power, there is one for my sword to meet. By the Beard of Brage, I swear for the life of Thorkell Leira, my truest enemy.” ”

“ Between Olaf Tryggevesson, and Ironbeard’s daughter, thou knowest, my mother, there could be no love.”
Ingrid was listening intently. A dark look came over her evil face. “Gudrun, I will make thee so full of magical beauty that this viking cannot withstand thee. Then if thou wilt listen to him, as a maiden to her lord, thou canst wed him and revenge all our wrongs.”
Gudrun did not answer.
Ingrid went on: “Then thou wouldst be a queen. He is but a viking after all; and thou, with thy strong will and thy dark beauty, thou wouldst change him to thy will. ”

“ The Lady Aastrid gave them full welcome, for the maid Maidoch can weave and spin, and hath full learning. Her hands can fashion laces that are finer than the spider weaves. Fiachtna was instructing the youth of the Lady Aastrid’s household, before this mortal illness seized him.”
“Tell me further of the maid.” Olaf smiled indulgently at the bard. Thorgills bent over his harp.
“Nay! nay! my scald!” laughed the king. “I know thou hast not notes enough on thy strings nor words enough on thy tongue to tell the charm of the maiden. It must be so. Say only she is a true Christian.” ”

“ God had brought him to his own land that he might bring his land to the one true God. It seemed as if he might almost leap ashore in his eagerness to plant the sacred sign on the soil of Norway—the sign of his country’s consecration to Christ. As Olaf stood, filled with fervent hopes and holy aims, the vision that so often came to him swept down from the cloudless, arching heavens. ”

“ Thou, God’s priest, slain before my eyes! Oh, the horror of it! The spilling of the blood of God’s anointed must forever curse this unholy land. My father, I shall always see Norway in thy martyred blood.”
“But listen, child! Even so, thy work is here. God hath so appointed. I have grieved for thee, but with the wondrous light death leaves on earthly mysteries, I see that here, in this wild, sinful land, thou hast a work to do, the work of a Christian woman, a daughter of the land of Saint Patrick. ”

“ It is not a wonder that Jarl Sigvalde, and his wild crew of Jomsvikings, let not a woman within their stronghold. Thou hadst conquered the Jomsvikings, and thou couldst have been the peaceful, prosperous, overlord of Norway, but that a woman’s beauty, and she the wife of a strong yoeman, bewitched thee. Then when my lord Erlend, thy faithful son, sent the woman away to appease the peasants, and with the wish that thou wouldst not find her so fair when Thora’s nails and teeth had been fastened in her face, then thou must needs send for the wife of another peasant, and a stronger man besides. ”

“ Running out to the very end of the oar as it rose and fell, he ran back to the locker and sprang upon the next rising oar. Not like anything human seemed the mighty viking, in his glittering armor and golden helmet, but like one of the genii of the world of waters, or like some beautiful gigantic sea-bird poised upon the flashing, dripping oars. The Danes crowded to the side of their vessel to watch Olaf in wide-mouthed wonder. ”

“ When an Irish princess married Sitric the Dane, years of war came after. But see who presses through the crowd! Ah, my brave Norseman, thy bride must be dearly won! It is Alfwine!”
A man of powerful frame had leaped upon the platform. Drawing his sword, he cried, in a voice like a trumpet’s blast: “I have vowed that no man shall claim the princess before me! Touch not her hand, Sir Norseman, until thou hast won the right to hold it in a fair combat.” ”

“ Is she not Brynjulf’s wife?”
“A dog of a peasant!” the old earl answered. “What right has my vassal, my thrall almost, to the most beautiful woman in Norway? I only say, I will see this wife of Brynjulf. After all, she may not be fairer than Thora.”
“She will not be fair for long if Thora’s sharp nails find her face. But see thou, my father. Our people have not forgotten Erling’s death, and they say above their breath that they want not an overlord with his hands red from the blood of his own son. Let the woman go. Her husband is a strong man among the peasants of his valley. ”

“ Father Meilge laid his hand on the scald’s shoulder. “My son, I had thought—nay I had hoped—that thou wouldst reach up to take the fair white blossom that bloomed first in my own land, and shield it from blight on thy strong, true heart.”
Thorgills looked up eagerly. “Nay, my father, the white flower was far beyond my reach. I strove for it, but it would never bend down that I might take it.”
“Thou must strive again;” and Father Meilge gave him a rare smile that seemed to illumine his face, which was full of loving care of this soul, struggling in the snare set by the woman of Rimul. ”

“ The oarsmen were idle and the crew was resting. Thore glanced up the street that led to the river. His bronze face took on a dark, red hue.
“It is he—the son of Trygge Olafsson,” he muttered. “He has his scald with him. A plague on that twanger of harp-strings. He looks at me as if he could see my soul, and could read there my compact with Jarl Haakon.”
Coming towards the ship, tall, athletic, kingly, handsome; strode Olaf, followed by Thorgills. As they came within hailing distance, Thore sprang to the centre of the ship. He clapped his hands loudly. The crew crowded around him. ”

“ Thorgills was sorely troubled as he journeyed home with the king. The scald was thinking within himself: “O my King! there do be worse things and more dangerous than a woman’s fancies; and these be a woman’s hate and a passionate woman’s promise of revenge. These will hurry a man to the brink of the grave; and when he falls in, they will keep his poor bones in toil.” ”

“ Though his step-father, Lodin, was a rich and powerful jarl, Olaf wished that Aastrid should receive all the homage due to the king’s mother. Then too he wanted to secure Lodin’s influence in spreading the Christian faith. Olaf was burning with a noble impatience to see all his beloved Norway brought to believe in Christ the White. He dreamed of the cross on many churches, the sails of hundreds of ships each fluttering out the holy sign, and the Virgin’s head on countless prows, that cut the waves of the North Sea. ”

“ At last he spoke, in a low, unsteady voice: “And she—my wife—my Maidoch? How fares it with her? How hath she filled her days since I did leave her? She is so young—”
“Aye!” said the abbess, a tinge of rebuke in her voice, “too young and too fair to have been left unguarded in this rough land. But God is good and hath shown her a shelter. Thou dost ask me how she hath filled her days? She hath taught the children; she hath comforted the sorrowful; and she hath cared for the sick and the dying. She hath relieved the poor in their misery.”
The pilgrim looked beseechingly at the abbess. ”

“ Thou, the friend of the king, and a priest, who hath dared—?”
“Go quickly, my son,” the dying voice entreated; and Thorgills sped away to find Father Tuathal.
“Maidoch, child,” said the dying martyr, “if thou must stay in this wild land, it were well for thee to have the care and the shield of a Christian lord. So if thou canst place thy hand in that of yon faithful Thorgills, it were a safe future for thee. Thy noble father will follow me soon.”
“Oh, no! No! no!” the girl cried, weeping passionately. “I cannot wed, I cannot live in Norway. No, my father! I would die in so sinful a land. ”

“ The peasants are close upon me, the angry peasants, armed to kill me, Olaf Tryggevesson has come. He is in Norway. I helped to murder his father. I drove his mother into exile. Olaf is the true king, and the Norsemen worship him. He will have no mercy! I have held his place too long. He cannot have any mercy. Hide me! Hide me, Thora!”
The woman laughed scornfully. “Hide thee? Hide thee? Oh, thou art the brave viking! Thou art the noble, fearless overlord of the land! Thou hast run from thy enemies to a woman, and thou dost beg her to hide thee. ”