"Blame not me for that, Estein," answered Thorar. "It was done with neither my knowledge nor consent, and none grieved at such an outrage more than I. Now, as you see, you have the land at your mercy; and as an ancient friend of your family and a faithful servant of my master King Bue, I am come to intercede between King Hakon and him. Give us peace, Estein; and as you have a grey- haired father, spare my master the sorrow and the shame you would bring upon him. What can he do against you? The old spirit of my countrymen has died out," he added sadly, "and no man dare meet your force in the field."

"Is King Bue in the town?" Estein asked.

"Nay, he could not travel so far; but in his name I bid you welcome to his feast, if you will accept peace instead of war. If you will not, then I can only mourn the devastation of my country.

It will be a bloodless victory, Estein."

"And what compensation does the king intend to make?"

"What you will; he is powerless."

"Shall we then march to King Bue?"

"Alas!" said Thorar, "in these evil days he cannot entertain you all. Many of his people have fled to the woods already, and--to tell the truth--he, too, would feel ill at ease if he saw so brave a force come nigh him; for he is old, and his spirit is broken.

But a following of twenty men or so he will gladly entertain. The others I shall have feasted here in the town at my own cost, and with them I shall leave my two young sons"--he indicated, as he spoke, the two lads. "They are my only children, and them I shall willingly give you as hostages till your return, that I may save my country from fire and sword. Though," he added, with a grave smile, "if men speak truth, Estein Hakonson can make good his coming or going against most."

"Be it as you will," replied Estein; "but if--" He paused, and looked sternly at Thorar.

"If a king's word and mine are not sufficient, and my only sons satisfy you not, I can but add my oath--though most men would deem it needless."

Thorar spoke with dignity and a touch of haughtiness, and Estein replied simply and courteously,--

"I shall come."

He turned to Helgi and said,--

"No fighting will there be, Helgi; but I have known you welcome even a feast. What say you?"

"This snow work and marching call for feasting," replied Helgi, with a laugh.

"Then Ketill shall stay here with the rest of our troop, and you and I, with twenty more, will to the king. Forward, men!"

"Spare not the ale," added Ketill.

"A courteous and gallant man is Thorar, for a Jemtlander," said Helgi to Ketill, as they marched down to the town.

"Dogs and women are his people," replied Ketill. "They are fit neither to be friends nor enemies."

Estein liberated the prisoners they had taken on the march, and leaving Ketill in charge of the main force and the hostages, he and Helgi set forth about noon for the seat of King Bue.

CHAPTER X.

KING BUE'S FEAST.

Their way at first took them over a flat, white waste by the sh.o.r.es of the lake. Estein fell back and let Helgi walk in front with Thorar; behind those two marched the small band of wild, skin-coated followers of the lawman; and after them came the mail- clad twenty, the shields which hung from their backs clanking now and again as they struck their harness. Last of all walked their leader.

Now that the tension of forced marches and weary journeyings through forest paths was off his mind, his thoughts ran continually on the Runes. "Come hither to Jemtland," he said to himself. He had come, and what was to follow? Something he felt must happen, and though he was curious, he cared singularly little what it might be. The sun hung high overhead, under foot the snow crunched pleasantly, and the air was clear and bracing--a day to inspire an adventurer and a skald. His thoughts began to take a rhyming turn, and he caught himself repeating his own verses:--

"Fare thee well, sweet blue-eyed Osla!

The sea-king must not stay, E'en for tresses rich as summer And for smile as bright as May; But one hope I cannot part from-- We may meet again some day!"

"And we shall, Osla!" he exclaimed half aloud.

He was aroused by hearing the voices of Helgi and Thorar come back to him clear and cheerfully. A thought struck him. Could Thorar have sent the message? A moment's reflection a.s.sured him that it was out of the question, but, to convince himself, he went forward and joined the lawman.

"Is it far to King Bue's hall?" he asked.

"The marshes are firm and frozen, and the snow lies nowhere very deep. We should reach it by nightfall."

Helgi laughed, and said,--

"A flight of wild ducks pa.s.sed overhead just now, and called to mind their kinsmen cooked; their kinsmen cooked called to mind the wherewithal to wash them down; and, in brief, I, for one, shall be glad to meet King Bue."

"We have a saying that the king loves a guest who loves his cheer," replied Thorar with a smile.

"Know you one of an old man," Estein asked, "and--but I forget it- -something of a maiden too? I saw it somewhere written in Runes."

In obedience to an indefinable instinct, he had said nothing of the token to Helgi, and his foster-brother looked at him in surprise. The mention of the Runes brought no look of recognition to Thorar's face. With his grave smile he answered,--

"There are many sayings concerning maids, and some concerning old men; also, if I mistake not, one or two about young men and maids."

"Spare Estein those last," cried Helgi lightly. "He thinks himself old, and never gives maids a thought at all."

Evidently Thorar knew nothing of the message, and Estein became silent again.

They were gradually approaching a dark forest, which stretched from the edge of the lake inland, and latish in the afternoon they entered it by a narrow, rutty road. Darkness closed in fast as they wound their way through the wood. The air grew colder and colder, till their hands and faces tingled with the frost. Silence fell upon them, and for some time nothing could be heard but the occasional clash of steel and the continual creaking of snow and breaking of dead branches under foot. Then a hum of voices came to them fitfully, and at last the path opened into a wide glade.

"We are almost there," said Thorar. "Smile not, Estein, at our rude hospitality; or, if you do, let our welcome make amends."

A young moon had just risen above the trees, and by its pale light they saw a small village at the end of the glade. Many lights flashed, and a babel of voices chattered and shouted as they approached.

"All King Bue's men have not fled, it seems," Helgi said in a low voice.

Estein made no reply, but the two foster-brothers fell back, and placing themselves at the head of their twenty followers, entered the little village. They found that it consisted of a few mean houses cl.u.s.tered outside a high wooden stockade. Thorar led them up to a gateway in this fence, and crying, "Welcome, Estein!"

stood aside to let the Nors.e.m.e.n file in.

The scene as they entered was strange and stirring. Immediately before them lay a wide courtyard, in the centre of which stood King Bue's hall, high and long, and studded with bright windows.

Men were ranged in a line from the gateway to the hall, bearing great torches. The smoky flames flashed on snow-covered ground and wild faces, and the branches of black pines outside, making the night above seem dark as a great vault. All round them rose a clamour of voices, and a throng of skin-coated figures crowded the gate to catch a glimpse of the strangers.

Estein walked first, and just as he came into the court a man, pushed apparently by the surging crowd, stumbled against him.

"Make way, there!" cried Thorar sternly, from behind; "give room for the king's guests to pa.s.s!"

The man hastily stepped back, but not before he had found time to whisper,--

"Beware, Estein! Drink not too deep!"