Brighteyes: A Norse Viking Saga Retold

By W.Wm. Mee

‘Eric Brighteyes’ is an epic tale founded on the Icelandic sagas of the 8th to the 11th centuries. ‘What is a saga?’ All the ‘good things’ about a story rolled into one: adventure, drama, love, magic, tragedy, sex and honour. Oh yes, and revenge! Kind of like what Shakespeare did in the 17th century.
H. Rider Haggard’s ‘Eric Brighteyes’ was first published in 1890, is one of the books that inspired J.R.R. Tolkien to write his masterpiece, ‘Lord of the Rings’ --- and, like Hamlet, Macbeth and LOTR, it is still going strong. Lots of history, action & strong female characters. ENJOY!

• Language: English
• Publisher: W.Wm. Mee
• Release date: Dec 2, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463823149

W.Wm. Mee

Wayne William Mee is a retired English teacher who enjoys hiking, sailing and walking his Beagle hound. He is also a 'living historian' or 'reenactor'. You can see Wayne's historical group on Facebook's 'McCaw's Privateers' 18th Century Naval Camp' page. Building & sailing wooden sailboats also takes up a chunk of Wayne's time, but along with his wife Maggie,son Jason and granddaughter Zoe, writing is his true love, the one he returns to let his imagination soar.Wayne would like you to 'look him up' on FACEBOOK and click the 'Friend' button or even zap him an e-mail.If you enjoyed any of his books, kindly leave a REVIEW here at Smashwords and/or say so on Facebook, Twitter, Tweeter or whatever other 'social network' you use.Thanks for stopping by ---and keep reading!!Drop him a line either there or at [e-mail]'ll be glad to hear from you!'Rest ye gentle --- sleep ye sound'

Book preview

INTRODUCTION

Long before the womanish teaching’s of the White Christ came to Iceland, there lived a man in the south called Eric Brighteyes. In those days there was no man quite like him for strength, beauty or daring --- but he was not a lucky man.

Two foster-sisters also lived in the south, not far from the sea; Gudruda the Fair and Swanhild the Fatherless. They were considered by many the fairest of all women, though they had nothing in common except their blood, their hatred for each other and their love for Eric.

Now of Eric Brighteyes, Gudruda the Fair and Swanhild the Fatherless, there is a tale to tell!

***

Chapter 1: ‘Lord Asmund & Groa the Witch ’

The father of Gudruda the Fair was Thane Asmund Asmundson, the wealthiest man in the south of Iceland. Asmund owned many farms, merchant ships and longships of war. He had won his wealth by ‘viking’s work’, robbing the English coasts, and black tales were often told of his doings in his youth on the sea!

He named his daughter after his wife, Gudruda the Gentle, the daughter of Björn, who was very sweet and kindly of nature.

The mother of Swanhild the Fatherless was Groa the Witch. She was a Finn, and it is told of her that the ship on which she sailed to Iceland was dashed to pieces on a rock, and all those on board were caught and drowned in Ran’s Net, the Norse goddess of the sea --- except for Groa herself, who was saved by her ‘witchy arts’.

Asmund found the beautiful woman, wearing a black cloak with silver trim and a great girdle of gold, seated on a rock, combing her black hair and singing softly. At her feet, washing to and fro in a salt pool, was a dead man. Asmund asked whence she came, and she answered: Out of the Swan’s Bath.

And who is that man? asked Asmund, pointing at the body.

Groa laughed coldy, though her gaze was hot. "What care you, Thane Asmund?"

How knowest thou my name and title?! Asmund demanded, suddenly wary of this beautiful woman.

"The sea-mews cried it as the ship sank --- thy name and others. Her voice was deep and rich, it’s seductive tones already casting their dark spell over the wealthy thane. "They said as well that this meeting shall be the seed of a ‘great story’!"

"Then that is the best of luck, to be mentioned in a saga! Asmund said; But I think, woman, that thou art fey."

Aye, she answered slyly, "That I am. Both fey and fair!" These last words completed the spell and the ‘thane’ was fully smitten.

Tis true enough that thou art fair, Asmund beamed, then, more soberly: But what shall we do with this dead man?

Leave him in Ran’s loving embrace, Groa laughed. "So may all husbands one day lie --- but come away lord. Show me thy fine steading."

Seeing that she was a witchwoman, Asmund knew that he should leave here there on the beach, but strangely, he could not. The very thought of not having her near him was oddly troubling. So, against his better judgment, he took her up to Middalhof, and gave her a small, isolated farm. There she lived quietly and over the years Thane Osmond profited much by her ‘witchy wisdom’ and ‘dark arts’. Not everyone however liked that Osmond had brought a witchwoman to live among them, including his wife, Gudruda the Gentle, but Asmund kept the witch just the same.

***

A year or so later Osmund’s wife, Gudruda the Gentle, gave birth to a daughter --- a fair haired girl, with large, dark eyes. On the same day, Groa the Witchwoman also brought forth a girl-child, and men wondered who the father was, for Groa was no man’s wife.

When Groa was asked who was the father she laughed darkly and said that she ‘never saw his face, for he rose out of the sea at night’. Other times she said that, ‘on a moonless night, the wild West Wind came to me in human form’ --- or ‘perhaps it was Odin himself’ that did the deed --- or ‘one of his many sons’?’ However most the women of the steading believed that Thane Asmund Asmundson himself was the father, and though he angrily denied it, as time passed he seemed to love the witch’s child as much as his own.

On the day of his daughter’s birth a woman came running to Asmund weeping. Haste, haste, lord! A daughter is born to thee this day, but thy wife Gudruda the Gentle is dying! Asmund found his wife in the bed-closet off the great hall of Middalhof. Art thou there, husband? she asked.

I am, wife.

"Thou comest in an evil hour, for it is my last. Now hearken to my dying wordsd. Take thou the new-born daughter in thine arms and kiss it, pour water over it, and name it with my name."

This Asmund did.

"Mark me, my husband. I have been a good wife to thee, though thou hast not been all good to me. But thus shalt thou atone: thou shalt swear that, though she is a girl, thou wilt not cast this bairn forth to perish, but wilt cherish and nurture her."

I swear it, he said.

"And thou shalt also swear that thou wilt not take the witchwoman Groa to wife, nor have anything to do with her, and this for thine own sake, not mine --- for, if thou take her as your own, ‘she will be thy death’. Dost thou so swear?"

I so swear , he said again, though there was a slight hesitation in his voice.

It is well then; but, husband, if thou dost break thine oath, either in the words or in the spirit of the words, evil shall overtake thee and all thy house. Now give me the babe and bid me farewell, for soon I die.

He bent and kissed her, for in his own way Asmund still loved his wife.

They gave her the babe and she looked upon its dark eyes and said:

Fairest of women shalt thou be, Gudruda, fair as no woman in Iceland ever was before thee; and thou shalt love with a mighty love --- and thou shalt lose --- and, losing, thou shalt find again. Having spoken those fell words, she lay back and was gone. And that night Asmund dreamt a terrible dream and the next day they laid his wife in her grave.

***

Of all diviners of dreams, sign and omens, Groa the Witch was the most skilled, and when his wife had been in the earth seven full days, Asmund went to Groa, though doubtfully, because of his oath to shun her. He came to the house and entered and there on a couch lay Groa. Her new born girl child was on her breast and she was very fair indeed to see.

Greeting, lord! the witchwoman said. What wouldest thou here?

I have dreamed a dream, and thou alone canst read it.

It is true that I have some skill with dreams, she answered. At the least I will hear it.

When he had told her all he could remember she asked him what he would give her for reading the dream. "What would thou ask? Methinks I have given thee much already!"

My lord, she said and looked at the babe upon her breast. I ask but a little thing --- that thou take this bairn in thy arms, pour water on it’s head and name it.

Asmund frowned. "Men will talk if I do this, for it is the father’s part."

"It is a very little thing to me what men say, Groa said lightly, stroking with her left hand her thick, black main. Talk goes by as the wind. Moreover, thou shalt give them the lie in the child’s name --- for it shall be Swanhild the Fatherless. That, my lord, is my price. Pay it if thou wilt."

His frown deepened. Read me the dream and I will name the child.

Nay, first name thou the babe: for then no harm may come to her at thy hands, for she and thou are linked together, in name as well as blood.

So Asmund took the child, poured water over her, and named her Swanhild the Fatherless.

Then Groa spoke: "This lord, is the reading of thy dream, else my wisdom is at fault: The gentle ‘dove’ from your dream is thy daughter Gudruda, while the dark ‘snake’ is my just named daughter Swanhild. These two shall hate one the other and strive against each other all their lives. The ‘golden swan’ in the dream represents a mighty man whom both maids shall love, and, though he love not both, yet he shall belong to both.Groa paused, smiled slyly, then continued. And thou shalt send him away; lord, but he shall return and bring bad luck to thee and thy house. Thy daughter Gudruda shall be blind with love of him and in the end he shall slay the ‘eagle’, a great lord from the north who shall seek to wed thy daughter, and many another shall he slay, by the help of that ‘raven’ with the bill of steel who shall be with him." Groa pausedagain, fixed Asmund with her dark eyes and continued.

"But my daughter Swanhild shall ‘triumph over’ Gudruda and this ‘swan-man’, and the two of them shall ‘die at her hands’. As for the rest, lord, who can say? But this much I know is true—that the ‘eagle’, the ‘mighty man’ that you saw, shall bring all thy race to an end. Her head came up and she held his hard stare. See, lord --- now, I have read thee thy rede --- though you might now wish that I had not."

Then Asmund was very wroth. "Thou was wise to beguile me to name thy bastard before thy reading, woman! he said; Else had I’d have been the brat’s death when thou had finished!"

Go then instead and lay Gudruda the Fair ‘out for the wolves’ on Coldback Hill, Groa laughed. "So shalt thou ‘make an end’ of the evil that is to come, for Gudruda shall be its flower, stem and root! Learn this, moreover, thane: that thy dream does not tell all, seeing that thou thyself must yet ‘play a part in the fate’. So go now; send forth the babe Gudruda to the wolves --- change they fate and be at rest!"

"That I will not do! Asmund growled. For I have sworn an oath on my good wife’s deathbed to cherish the babe!"

"It is done then, laughed Groa. Things will befall as they are fated; let the Three Norms decide. There is space aplenty for rocky cairns on Coldback Hill, and the sea can easily shroud its dead!"

And with Asmund turned and left, greatly angered at heart.

***

Chapter 2: ‘Eric & Gudruda the Fair’

Several years before the day that Gudruda the Gentle died, the wife of Thorgrimur Iron-Toe of Coldback Hill gave birth to a son, and when the father came to look upon the child he called out aloud: "Here we have a wondrous bairn! For his hair is yellow like gold and his eyes shine bright as the stars!" And Thorgrimur Iron-Toe named his son Eric Brighteyes.

Now, Coldback Hill is but an hour’s ride from Middalhof. A full decade later, Thorgrimur went up to Middalhof to keep the Yule feast and worship in Odin’s temple --- for he was in the same local priesthood of Asmund Asmundson --- and he brought his son Eric Brighteyes with him.

There also was Groa with Swanhild, for now the witchwoman dwelt in Middalhof as Thane Osmond’s ‘housekeeper’. And there the ‘three children were set together’ in the hall to play. Thane Osmond and his hand-fasted men thought it great sport to see them at play. Gudruda had a wooden horse and would ride it while Eric pushed the horse along. But Swanhild knocked her off the horse and told Eric to push it; but he refused and comforted Gudruda instead. Swanhild was angry and called out: Push me thou must, if I will it, Eric!

Then push he did, but sideways, so that Swanhild almost fell into the hearth-fire, and, leaping up, she snatched a burning brand and threw it at Gudruda, nearly catching fire to her clothes. Men laughed at this; but Groa, standing apart, frowned and muttered angry, witchy-words at Eric.

Why lookest thou so darkly, housekeeper? said Asmund; Eric is but a bonny lad and high of spirit!

"Ah, he is a bonny child, and he will be bonny all his life, but that will not help him change his ‘early death’, for this I prophesy of him: that women will bring him to his early end, and that he shall die a hero’s death --- but not at the hand of his foes."

As the years passed, Groa dwelt with her daughter Swanhild at Middalhof as Thane Asmund’s lover. Asmund however, still mindful of the oath he swore to his dying wife, was never able to take Groa as his wife. The witchwoman was angered at this, but no matter how much she schemed and plotted to bring it about, Asmund still would not wed her.

***

Twenty years had come and gone and both Gudruda the Fair and Swanhild the Fatherless were now groan women. Eric, too, was a man of five-and-twenty years, strong and great of stature, and his blue eyes shone with the light off a sun-kissed lake. There were none in all of Iceland who could leap or swim or wrestle against him, though as yet he had done no great deeds in battle, but lived at home on Coldback Hill, managing the farm, ever since his father Thorgrimur Iron-Toe had died.

So handsome was Eric that women were just naturally drawn to him, and that was his bane --- but of all the women in Iceland he loved but one, Gudruda the Fair. Since childhood he had loved her and her alone, and would till the day that he died. Gudruda’s hair, like Eric’s, was the color of molten gold, and her skin was as white as the snow on Mount Hecla; but her eyes were large and dark, and black lashes drooped above them. For the rest she was tall, strong and comely; tenderhearted and the most witty of young women.

Swanhild also was very easy on the eye, but cold of heart. She was slender, slight of limb, and dark of hue. Her eyes were the colour of forest shadows and full of ‘hidden things’. Thick and sleek was her raven black hair, covering her lean, slender body to the knees. She had an inquisitive mind, was both frank and open in her talk, though her thoughts were deep, dark and secretive. From her mother Groa she studied the ‘arts of magic and spells’ and took great pleasure in drawing the hearts of men to her and then, when they were entranced by her dark beauty, she’d mock them and casually cast them aside.

What she really desired above all else was power and wealth --- and she was determined to have both!

But Swanhild had one great weakness; she too loved a man --- and that was the one point by which the shaft of Fate could penetrate her black heart. For the man she loved was Eric Brighteyes --- he who loved her not! But she desired him so sorely that, without him, all the world was dark to her, and her soul was but as a ship driven rudderless upon a desolate shore. Therefore she put out all her strength to win him, and bent her dark witcheries upon him --- and they were not few nor were they small!

Nevertheless all her dark arts went by Eric like the wayward wind, for he dreamed only of Gudruda the Fair, and he saw no comely body but hers, though as yet they had spoke no word of love to each other.

When Swanhild, in her wrath, told her mother Groa of her love for Eric, Groa laughed aloud. "Dost think me blind, girl?! All of this I have seen, yea and foreseen! And I tell thee thou art mad! Let this penniless Eric go and I will find thee a richer, finer fowl to fly at!"

Nay, mother, that I will not! Swanhild said angrily: "For I love this man alone, and I will win him! Gudruda I hate, and I would gladly replace her in Eric’s affections! Mother, I prey thee, I have need of thy counsel."

Groa laughed again. "Things must be as they are fated, daughter, but listen and I’ll tell you my plan. Asmund wants to use Gudruda’s beauty to make him richer than he already is, and so has stated that whoever gets her as a wife must be both rich and powerful and pay him a handsome dowry for Gudruda’s hand. Meanwhile we will bear tales of Gudruda to Asmund and to her arrogant brother Björn, and swear that ‘she oversteps her modesty with Eric’. Then shall Asmund be wroth and drive Eric from Gudruda’s side. Now, in the far north there dwells a man, Ospa Blacktooth, who is mighty in all things and blown up with pride. His wife is but lately dead, and he has given out that he will ‘wed the fairest maid in Iceland’. Now, we will send word of Gudruda’s great beauty to Ospa so he will come hither to ask her in marriage. This way, if things go well, thou shalt be rid of thy rival, and I of one who looks scornfully upon me!"

But what if this Ospa Blacktooth comes not for Gudruda’s hand, or will not pay the price Asmund will demand?

Gora’s laughter took on a mocking tone. "Then, daughter mine, there are two roads left you may travel to reach your goal. One is that thou should use thine own beauty, which is not little, to win Eric. All men are frail, daughter, and I have a potion that will make your Eric’s heart as wax. --- yet the ‘other path’ is even surer."

And what path is that, mother?

"It runs through blood to blackness. By thy side is a knife and in Gudruda’s bosom beats a heart. Dead women, daughter, make poor wives and even poorer lovers.

Swanhild tossed her raven locks and looked upon the dark face of her mother. Methinks, with such a goal to win, I should not fear to tread that path, if tread it I must.

"Now I see thou art indeed my daughter! Happiness is for the bold, Gudruda, but to each of us it comes in a ‘different guise’. Some love power, some wealth, and some --- a man. But you must take that which thou lovest! Cut thy path to it and take it; else shall thy life be but a weariness. Therefore, if thou seekest this man, and Gudruda blocks thy path, slay her, girl—by witchcraft or by steel—and take him, and in his arms forget that thine own are red!

"But first let us try ‘the easier plan’. Daughter, I too hate this proud girl, who scorns me as her father’s ‘backdoor woman’. I too long to see that bright head of hers dull with the dust of death, or, at the least, those proud eyes weeping tears of shame as a man she hates leads her hence as a bride! Were it not for her I should be Asmund’s wife, and, when she is gone, with thy help, his wife I may be yet! So, in this matter, if in no other, let us go hand in hand and match our wits against Gudruda’s innocence."

Now, Gora sent her servant Koll northward to Lord Blacktooth’s hall to spread the word of Gudruda’s beauty and the time passed till it lacked but a month to Yule. The season was dark and much snow fell. At length came a clear sky, and Gudruda, threw a cloak about her and walked forth, taking the road towards Coldback Hill. Swanhild watched her till she was in the woods then she also took a cloak and followed for she always watched her fair-haired foster-sister.

Gudruda walked on for the half of an hour or so, when it began to snow. The soft flakes quickly became a blizzard, but through it Gudruda walked on --- and after her, like a shadow, crept Swanhild. Darkness gathered and Gudruda grew weary and frightened, and sat down upon a shelving rock. Swanhild still watched from the shadows.

Gudruda grew heavy as though with sleep, when suddenly something ‘loomed upon the snowy darkness’. When Gudruda leapt up and called out, man’s voice aksed: Who passes there?

I, Gudruda, Asmund’s daughter.

The form came nearer; now Swanhild, watching from the shadows, could hear the snorting of a horse, and saw a man leapt down from it --- and that man was Eric Brighteyes.

Is it thou indeed, Gudruda?! he said with a laugh, and his great shape showed darkly on the night snow. It is I, Eric!

Oh, Eric! she answered. I was never more joyed to see thee; for of a truth thou dost come in a good hour. A little while and I had seen thee no more, for my eyes grow heavy with the death-sleep.

Nay, say not so. Art lost, then? Why, so am I. I came out to seek three horses that are strayed, and was overtaken by the snow. May they dwell warmly in Odin’s stables, for they have led me to thee. Art thou cold, Gudruda?

But a little, Eric. Come, there is place for thee here on the rock.

So he sat down by her on the stone, and Swanhild crept nearer; for now all weariness had left her. But still the snow fell thick.

It comes into my mind that we two shall die here, said Gudruda presently.

Thinkest thou so? he answered. Well, I will say this, that I ask no better end.

It is a bad end for thee, Eric: to be choked in snow, and with all thy deeds to do.

It is a good end, Gudruda, to die at thy side, for so I shall die happy; but I grieve for thee.

Grieve not for me, Brighteyes, worse things might befall.

He drew nearer to her, and now he put his arms about her and clasped her to his chest; nor did she say him nay. Swanhild saw and lifted herself up behind them, but for a while she heard nothing but the beating of her heart.

Listen, Gudruda, Eric said at last. Death draws near to us, and before it comes I would speak to thee, if speak I may.

Speak on, she whispered from his breast.

This I would say, then: that I love thee, and that I ask no better fate than to die in thy arms.

First shalt thou see me die in thine, Eric.

Be sure, if that is so, I shall not tarry for long. Oh! Gudruda, since I was a child I have loved thee, and now thou art all to me! Better to die thus than to live without thee. Speak, then, while there is time.

I will not hide from thee, Eric, that thy words are sweet in my ears.

And now Gudruda began to sob and the tears fell fast from her dark eyes.

Nay, weep not. Dost thou, then, love me?

Aye, love you I do, Eric.

Then kiss me before we pass. A man should not die thus, and yet men have died worse.

And so they kissed for the first time, out in the snow on Coldback --- and that first kiss was long and sweet. But Swanhild both saw and heard and her blood seethed within her. She put her hand to her belt and gripped the knife that hung there. She half drew it, then drove it back.

‘Cold kills as sure as steel,’ she said in her heart. ‘If I slay her then I cannot save myself or him. Let us all three die then in frosty peace, and let the snow cover up our troubled hearts.’

And once more she listened.

Ah, sweet, said Eric, even in the midst of death there is hope of life. Swear to me, then, that if by chance we live, thou wilt love me always as thou lovest me now.

Aye, Eric, I swear that and readily.

And swear, come what may, that thou wilt wed no man but me.

I swear, if thou dost remain true to me, that I will wed none but thee, Eric.

Then I am content! he grinned.

The snow whirled down faster and more thick, till these two, clasped heart to heart, were but a heap of white, and all white was the horse, and Swanhild was nearly buried.

Where go we when we die, Eric? said Gudruda; In Odin’s house there is no place for maids, and how shall I fare without thee?

Nay, sweet, my May, Valhalla shuts its gates to me, a deedless man; up Bifrost’s rainbow bridge I may not travel, for I do not die with byrnie on breast and sword in hand. To Hela shall we both go, hand in hand.

"Art thou sure, Eric, that these places truly exist? To say sooth, at times I misdoubt me of them."

"I also have my doubts. Still, I do know this, Gudruda; that ‘wherever thou goest, there I will follow’!

"Then things are well, and let the Norns have their way. Still, Eric, of a sudden I grow fey: for it comes upon me that I shall not die to-night, but that when I do, I shall die with thy arms about me. There! I see it played out on the snow! I lie by thee, sleeping, and one comes with hands outstretched and sleep falls from them like a mist—by Freya, it is Swanhild! Oh! She is gone!"

Eric pulls her close. It was nothing, Gudruda, but a vision of the snow—an untimely dream that comes before the sleep. I grow cold and my eyes are heavy; kiss me once again.

It was no dream, Eric, and always have I mistrusted Swanhild, for I think she loves thee also, and she is fair and my enemy! Gudruda presses her snow-cold lips on his his. "Oh, Eric, awake! Awake! See, the snow has stopped and the sky is clearing!"

He stumbled to his feet and looked up. And across the sky flared the wild Northern fires, throwing light upon the darkness.

Now it seems that I know the land, said Eric. "Look: yonder are Cloudland Falls, though we did not hear them because of the snow; and there, out at sea, loom the Westman Isles; and that dark thing is Odin’s Temple, and behind it stands the stead! ‘We are saved, Gudruda!’ Now rise up, ere thy limbs stiffen, and I will set thee on the horse, if he still can run, and lead thee down to Middalhof before the witchlights fail us."

So it shall be, Eric.

Now he led Gudruda to the horse, that, seeing its master, snorted and shook the snow from its coat, and he set her on the saddle, and put his arm about her waist, and they passed slowly through the deep snow.

And Swanhild, too, crept from her place, for ‘her burning rage had kept the life in her’, and followed after them. Many times she fell, and once she was nearly swallowed in a drift of snow and cried out in her fear.

Who called aloud? said Eric, turning; I thought I heard a voice.

Nay, answered Gudruda, It was but a night-hawk screaming.

Now Swanhild lay quiet in the drift, but she said in her heart: ‘Aye, sister- enemy, a night-hawk that shall tear out those dark eyes of thine!’

The two continue on and at length come to the banked roadway that runs past the temple to Asmund’s hall. Here Swanhild leaves them, and, climbing over the turf-wall into the home meadow, passes round the hall by the outbuildings and so comes to the far end of the house, and enters by the men’s door unnoticed of any. For all the people, seeing a horse coming and a woman seated on it, were gathered in front of the hall. But Swanhild ran to that shut bed where she slept, and, closing the curtain, threw off her garments, shook the snow from her hair, and put on a linen kirtle. Then she rested a while, for she was weary, and, going to the kitchen, warmed herself at the fire.

Meanwhile Eric and Gudruda came to the house and there Asmund greeted them well, for he was worried about his daughter and had men out searching for her.

Now Gudruda told her tale, but not all of it, and Asmund bade Eric to the house. Then one asked about Swanhild, and Eric said that he had seen nothing of her, and Asmund was sad at this, for he loved both his daughters. But as he told all men to go and search, an old servant came and said that Swanhild was in the kitchen, and just then Swanhild came into the hall. Dressed all in white she was very pale, and with shining eyes and fair to see.

Where hast thou been, Swanhild? said Asmund. I thought certainly thou wast perishing with Gudruda in the snow, and now all men go to seek thee while the witchlights burn.

Nay, foster-father, I have been to the Temple, she lied. So, our Gudruda has but narrowly escaped the snow, thanks be to Brighteyes yonder! Surely I am glad of it, for we could ill spare our sweet sister, and, going up to her, she kissed her. But Gudruda saw that her eyes burned like fire and felt that her lips were cold as ice, and she shrank back wondering.

***

Chapter 3: ‘The Unwanted Gift’

Now it was supper-time in Asmund’s hall and the men sat at meat while the women waited upon them. But as she went to and fro, Gudruda always looked at Eric, and Swanhild watched them both. Supper being over, people gathered round the hearth, and, having finished her service, Gudruda came and sat by Eric, so that her sleeve might touch his. They spoke no word, but there they sat and were happy. Swanhild saw and bit her lip. She was seated by Asmund and Björn his son.

Look, foster-father, she said; Yonder sit a pretty pair!

That cannot be denied, answered Asmund. One may ride many days to see such another man as Eric Brighteyes, and no such maid as Gudruda flowers between Middalhof and London town, unless it be thou, Swanhild.

Nay, name me not with Gudruda, foster-father; I am but a grey goose by thy white swan. But these shall be well wed and that will be a good match for Eric.

Let not thy tongue run on so fast, said Asmund sharply. Who told thee that Eric should have Gudruda?

None told me, but having eyes and ears, I grew certain of it, said Swanhild. Look at them now: ‘surely lovers wear such faces’.

Now it chanced that Gudruda had rested her chin on her hand, and was gazing into Eric’s eyes beneath the shadow of her hair.

Asmund’s ill-tempered son Bjorn grunted. He was jealous of Eric’s strength and beauty, and loved him not. Methinks my sister will look higher than to wed a simple yeoman, though he is large as two other men, said Björn with a sneer.

But Asmund’s thoughts went deeper and he turned back to Swanhild. Mark me, girl. I will test your ‘guessings’ and set a snare to see if they be true. Then, raising his voice, he called out to Eric to tell how he came across Gudruda in the snow.

Eric told his tale; but not all of it, for on the morrow he intended to ask Gudruda in marriage, though his heart prophesied no luck in the matter, and therefore he was not overswift to do it.

In this thing thou hast done me and mine good service, said Asmund coldly, searching Eric’s handsome face. " For I would set her high in marriage, both for her honour and the honour of my house, and if she had perished in the snow then some’ rich and noble man’ will have lost great joy. But take thou this gift in memory of the deed, and know that Gudruda’s rich husband-to-be shall give thee another such upon the day that he makes her as wife!" Asmund then drew a gold ring off his arm and held it out for Eric to take.

Eric’s knees trembled as he heard Asmund’s words, and his heart came close to breaking, but still he answered clear and straight: "Thy gift had been better without thy words, ring-giver; but I pray thee to take it back, for I have done nothing to win it --- though perhaps the time will come when I shall ask thee for a much richer one."

My gifts have never been put away before! said Asmund, growing angry.

This poor farmer holds your good gold of little worth, father, Bjorn sneered. or you either by his refusing!

Nay, Björn, tis not so! Eric answered: "But, as thou sayest, I am but a poor farmer, and since my father, Thorgrimur Iron-Toe, died, things have not gone too well on Coldback Hill --- but at the least I am a free man, and I will take no gifts that I cannot repay worth for worth. Therefore I will not have the ring."

As thou wilt, said Asmund. "Pride is a good horse if thou ridest it wisely," and he thrust the ring back upon his arm.

Soon the people go to their beds; but Swanhild seeks out her mother instead and tells her all that has befallen her --- nor does Groa fail to listen.

"Now, daughter, I will amend our plan, the witchwoman said, for these things have chanced well and Asmund is in a ripe humour. Eric shall come no more to Middalhof till Gudruda is wed and gone hence, led away by Ospa Blacktooth."

But if Eric does not come here, Swanhild put in; "how then shall I see his face? For, mother, I long for the sight of it."

"That is