Part 11 (2/2)

'Cowards come not: To the halls of the Chosen!

Haro! Haro!...”

But of all that followed I nothing saw nor heard, for a great blow was stricken me behind the head, and black darkness rushed down upon mine eyes and ears.

The blood beat dully against my brow, and my head ached as it would split in twain. I lay on a day-bed, pillowed with down.

On the s.h.i.+p? There had been a s.h.i.+p.... The fourth man! He must have fallen upon me as I stood in the tent-door.

Nay, I was once again within four walls. There were voices of men and women about me. I opened mine eyes. Near-by saw I some that I kenned full well, though they kenned not me, for often had I gazed upon the great ones of the land, since coming into Kent. On a settle over against me sat proud Lady Gytha, Earl G.o.dwin's wife: her grief had made her stony; her eyes were heavy, and her lips a thin, tight streak. Earl Tostig stood before the empty hearth, clanking ever at the golden chain about his neck. At the feet of his mother, upon a stool, sat Harold, holding on his knee the child Haco Sweynson.

”Stirs she yet?” said Lady Gytha.

”Nay, not yet,” Tostig answered. I shut mine eyes, for his harsh tones jarred and sickened me.

”Was it Algive?” she said, right mournfully. ”Has this woman once again brought my Sweyn to nought?”

”Lady mother,” spake Earl Harold, ”I was, as ye know, at Dartmouth town, when, at dead of night, came one of my men to me. In a dark wynd, he said, armed men set upon him and held him fast, and one, whose voice seemed the voice of Sweyn, gave into his arms this child, son of Sweyn G.o.dwinson, and bade him take him thence unto me, or be slain where he stood. 'And look thou beneath the shed of Oswald the s.h.i.+pman, by his wharfside,' quoth he that might be Sweyn, 'and there wilt thou behold more which beareth on this matter.' My man and his fellows sought the sheds of Oswald, and lo! bound hand and foot, four seamen of Beorn's s.h.i.+p, which Sweyn my brother sailed out of Pevensey, and the body of Beorn Estrithson our kinsman, mangled fearfully, and eke yon poor soul, whom the men of Beorn call the Lady Algive's woman.”

Then I guessed that I was now in the house of Earl G.o.dwin at Dorchester.

”Slain by my son!” moaned Lady Gytha. ”Beorn, who won for him the King's forgiveness!”

”Fore G.o.d and His host of hallows!” cried Tostig bitterly. ”Heavy is now our shame! Such wantonness knows no end. Outcast of Holy Church was Sweyn G.o.dwinson--and now black murder done on him who had befriended him. Shall the whole house of G.o.dwin fall for the strayings of one?

Were I King----”

”Hold!” Harold thundered. ”Never aught underhand did Sweyn, and that thou well wittest, Tostig!”

At this I strove to sit upright on my bed, but could not, and fell back.

”See, she swoons no more,” said Lady Gytha, and was at my side, bringing wine in a flask.

Then there broke in upon us G.o.dwin the Earl, with fumbling step, his eyes wild, his grey locks tangled and unkempt.

”Woe worth the day!” he cried aloud unto his lady. ”Woe worth the hour wherein he saw the light, this son of thine! Twice outlaw he, and Nithing by the word of the armed Gemot! Foul blows where thanks were owing--that was well done, O Sweyn! No child of mine art thou henceforward. Harold, stand thou in his stead: thine are all the rights of the first-born.”

He sank upon a settle, shading his countenance with his hands. Lady Gytha went to him, and her tears began fast to flow. Then came Tostig's whisper, sudden and clear as the cracking of ice:

”What, Harold, so soon? I did think----”

But Harold chode not with him, for the boy Haco whimpered, and he fell to soothing him in most kind wise.

Then, by G.o.d's favour, I rose from my bed, and knelt at the feet of the Earl and his lady, and spake to them of the shameful saying of Beorn, the which had goaded Sweyn G.o.dwinson to smite him to death. In after years, Lord Harold knew, but so softly spake I there that my tale was heard of G.o.dwin and Gytha only, and no word reached the ear of Tostig.

When I had ended, Lady Gytha arose, to pa.s.s from us all into an inner room. And Earl G.o.dwin arose too, and caught her arm as she went.

”Gytha--wife”--said he--”here is it at an end! I am old, I am old, Gytha!”

It was sooth he spake, the once stout Earl. He was an old man from that hour. But Gytha held her head high, and I knew that in her heart she was glad for her son.

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