Saga of Halfred the Sigskald - Part 9
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Part 9

And he carried his head again proudly erect, when he did not purposely bend down to look into the golden eyes of the boy, which ever again and again he did.

And so much did Halfred dread to lose Thoril again, that he never left his side the live-long day. And because Thoril's couch and sleeping chamber were, as he said, so small that Halfred could not share them, he lay before the door upon the threshold.

Nevertheless he still could not sleep; but now, because with ardent yearning he listened to the breathing of the sleeper. And with the earliest dawn of morning he would rouse Thoril from sleep and his sleeping chamber.

And it seemed as if the old gift of Oski was given back to Halfred, the winning of all hearts. For the two guardians of the boy, who full of mistrust had seen the strange man approach their cottage, holding Thoril's hand--the ancient Moengal had rushed at him with a spear--were at once gentle and won, when he begged, with the old smile of Oski--"Let me be healed at Thoril's golden eyes."

But on the thirtieth day--the time when the Singing Swan should come for him was long pa.s.sed, but Halfred thought not of that--the two went out with hooks and lines to catch fish. For Moengal's provisions were exhausted.

In the midst of the island lay a dark lake, surrounded by steep high cliffs. But from the lake a streamlet flowed to the open sea. In a small boat they could row upon this lake, and down the streamlet to the sea. And there were many splendid fish called silver salmon in the lake, and in the stream, and even down in the salt sea.

And Halfred and Thoril rowed over the lake the whole morning, and laid ground hooks and nets.

And when, towards mid-day, the heat burned more and more fiercely down upon them, Halfred said--

"Come away from this shadeless depth. There above, on the cliff, I see falling the glittering spray of a silver rill--amidst alders, amidst wild roses it springs. There above, it is cool and shady. Easily shall we find a grotto in the rock. I long for that fresh spring water. And there above, to the left, nod dark sweet berries--they quench the thirst, and young boys love them. Let us climb up. I will gladly aid thee."

And slowly they climbed the steep face of the cliff. Thoril now aided, now followed by Halfred.

Then there floated to them, half-way up to the fountain, a strong perfume from a hollow linden tree, like wine, but it was wild honey which the wood-bees had gathered there.

And Thoril dipped his forefinger deep in the bright thick mixture, and laid it upon Halfred's lips, and smiled at him, and said--

"Take it. It is very sweet."

And most enchanting he looked.

Then Halfred exclaimed--

"Such honey, so say the people, the G.o.ds have laid upon my lips. Try if it is true."

And he suddenly clapped Thoril's head, which was bent down towards him, with both hands, and kissed him on his full lips.

Then both started asunder. A burning glow shot through Halfred's frame.

But Thoril turned away his face, quivering slightly, and rapidly climbed up the cliff.

Halfred paused, and drew a deep breath--

Then he followed.

"See, Thoril," cried Halfred halting, "this cavern, hollowed by the elves in the rock. The thick thorn bushes, with the perfumed red flowers, almost hide the entrance; and see there, how the brown nightingale on her nest guards the small doorway, and how the honey bees swarm around. Here will we stop and rest as we descend, when we have drunk above."

But Thoril made no answer, and climbed more quickly upwards.

They had still some fifty paces to climb upwards to the edge of the cliff whence the spring water fell in silver spray. Halfred was surprised that henceforward the boy went steadily on, turning his back to him, and if he sought to aid him in climbing, held on his course without looking round.

Fiercely beat the noontide down upon the cliff; all around was deep silence; only blue flies darted buzzing through the sunshine, and from high in the heavens sounded often the shrill cries of soaring falcons, which with outspread pinions circled over their heads.

They had now mounted so high that far away over the small island they could see, on three sides, beneath and around them, the blue sea appear.

And the sea encircled the blooming island with its dark steel-blue arm, like a mail-clad hero a blooming women.

But from the far west drew near a white sail.

At last they had reached the height. Thoril stood above, hard by the waterfall, where scarcely could a pair of human feet find standing room upon the wet slippery crumbling stone.

Beneath him, some five feet lower, Halfred halted, and looked towards him. "Give me to drink, I am parched with thirst," he cried to him.

And Thoril drew from his fishing pouch a curved, silvery shining, mother of pearl sh.e.l.l. He raised himself on tiptoe, filled the sh.e.l.l to the brim, and turned to reach it down to Halfred. Then his foot slipped on the polished stone, vainly he tried to save himself, spreading out his arms on the bare rock wall. Halfred saw him falling downwards, straight upon himself, and opened wide his strong arms to receive the light burden. But lo!--a miracle. In the rapid fall the buckle broke which fastened over the breast Thoril's white linen garment; wide outspreading, down over the shoulders, fell the garment; at the same moment fell the net which confined the golden hair--a rich flood of waving tresses spread themselves over the shining neck and swelling breast.

"A woman art thou? a maiden?" shouted Halfred exultingly. "Thanks to ye, O stars. Yes; this is Love's fullness."

And the beautiful maiden hid her glowing cheeks in Halfred's neck.

With a few strides he bore his light burden down to the grotto they had pa.s.sed in climbing, and bending the branches of the rose bushes aside placed her safely within its shelter. The nightingale, which there sat singing on her nest, flew only to a short distance; and then returned and sang and warbled unceasingly. And the bees flew humming among the wild roses.

And when the crimson glow of the evening sun shone over the island Halfred and Thoril descended the cliff. And now the girl's face was infinitely more beautiful than of yore. She wore her hair no longer in the net, but waving freely, so that like a mantle spun of threads of sunny gold it covered her from her throat to her knees. And instead of the lost buckle a small spray of the thorn bush, with a full blown rose, fastened her garment over the breast.

Thus, hand in hand, they descended to the lake, and then Thora took from the boat her three-sided harp, and thus they wandered down by the streamlet which flowed from the lake to the sea, and on to the bay, towards the west.

And the ship, which from the west had held her course towards the island, was the Singing Swan.

There, at a short distance, she now lay at anchor in the bay; her sails shining brightly in the evening light. And the ship's boat glided over the water towards the sh.o.r.e, to bring Halfred and the smaller boat, rowed by Hartvik and Eigil.

And the blood brethren sprang on sh.o.r.e, and marvelled greatly, when they saw Halfred stand there, hand in hand with a wonderfully beautiful woman. Silently their glances questioned him.

But Halfred spoke, twining his arms round the slender girl--

"This is Thora the golden-eyed. King Thorul's daughter.

"She was hidden from me here, and clad in boy's clothing that I might not find her.

"Nevertheless I have found her, according to the course of the stars and the will of the G.o.ds--Love her as myself--for she is my wife."

CHAPTER XIII.

And now it was very wonderful to see what a wholly different man Halfred had became since he had won Thora.

He threw off his tattered clothing, and clad himself in the most costly royal raiment of scarlet and rich gold, which lay stored away as a special treasure among the spoils of the Singing Swan.

He quaffed the sparkling Chios wine from a silver cup, and eagerly pledged Thora in Freya's love.

He played often upon her harp, and sang new songs far more beautiful and ardent, and moving according to a melody which he invented, and called "Thora's melody."

And his youth seemed to be given back to him, for the deep furrows vanished from his forehead, his eyes, which had always been cast down, as though he revolved the past, or his own thoughts, now looked brightly upwards again, and around his lips again played joyously the smile of Oski.