Part 9 (1/2)

Black rage swelled in his heart. He ground his fangs, and thought on guile. By his foot gleamed the naked foot of Eric. Suddenly he stamped on it so fiercely that the skin burst.

”Ill done! ill done!” folk cried; but in his pain Eric moved his foot.

Lo! he was down, but not altogether down, for he did but sit upon his haunches, and still he clung to Blacktooth's thighs, and twined his legs about his ankles. Now with all his strength Ospakar strove to force the head of Brighteyes to the ground, but still he could not, for Eric clung to him like a creeper to a tree.

”A losing game for Eric,” said Asmund, and as he spoke Brighteyes was pressed back till his yellow hair almost swept the sand.

Then the folk of Ospakar shouted in triumph, but Gudruda cried aloud:

”Be not overthrown, Eric; loose thee and spring aside.”

Eric heard, and of a sudden loosed all his grip. He fell on his outspread hand, then, with a swing sideways and a bound, once more he stood upon his feet. Ospakar came at him like a bull made mad with goading, but he could no longer roar aloud. They closed and this time Eric had the better hold. For a while they struggled round and round till their feet tore the frozen turf, then once more they stood face to face. Now the two were almost spent; yet Blacktooth gathered up his strength and swung Eric from his feet, but he found them again. He grew mad with rage, and hugged him till Brighteyes was nearly pressed to death, and black bruises sprang upon the whiteness of his flesh. Ospakar grew mad, and madder yet, till at length in his fury he fixed his fangs in Eric's shoulder and bit till the blood spurted.

”Ill kissed, thou rat!” gasped Eric, and with the pain and rush of blood, his strength came back to him. He s.h.i.+fted his grip swiftly, now his right hand was beneath the fork of Blacktooth's thigh and his left on the hollow of Blacktooth's back. Twice he lifted--twice the bulk of Ospakar rose from the ground--a third mighty lift--so mighty that the wrapping on Eric's forehead burst, and the blood streamed down his face--and lo! great Blacktooth flew in air. Up he flew, and backward he fell into the bank of snow, and was buried there almost to the knees.

VI

HOW ASMUND THE PRIEST WAS BETROTHED TO UNNA

For a moment there was silence, for all that company was wonderstruck at the greatness of the deed. Then they cheered and cheered again, and to Eric it seemed that he slept, and the sound of shouting reached him but faintly, as though he heard through snow. Suddenly he woke and saw a man rush at him with axe aloft. It was Mord, Ospakar's son, mad at his father's overthrow. Eric sprang aside, or the blow had been his bane, and, as he sprang, smote with his fist, and it struck heavily on the head of Mord above the ear, so that the axe flew from his hand, and he fell senseless on his father in the snow.

Now swords flashed out, and men ringed round Eric to guard him, and it came near to the spilling of blood, for the people of Ospakar gnashed their teeth to see so great a hero overthrown by a youngling, while the southern folk of Middalhof and Ran River rejoiced loudly, for Eric was dear to their hearts.

”Down swords,” cried Asmund the priest, ”and haul yon carca.s.s from the snow.”

This then they did, and Ospakar sat up, breathing in great gasps, the blood running from his mouth and ears, and he was an evil sight to see, for what with blood and snow and rage his face was like the face of the Swinefell Goblin.

But Swanhild spoke in the ear of Gudruda:

”Here,” she said, looking at Eric, ”we two have a man worth loving, foster-sister.”

”Ay,” answered Gudruda, ”worth and well worth!”

Now Asmund drew near and before all men kissed Eric Brighteyes on the brow.

”In sooth,” he said, ”thou art a mighty man, Eric, and the glory of the south. This I prophesy of thee: that thou shalt do deeds such as have not been done in Iceland. Thou hast ill been served, for a knave unknown greased thy shoes. Yon swarthy Ospakar, the most mighty of all men in Iceland, could not overthrow thee, though, like a wolf, he fastened his fangs in thee, and, like a coward, stamped upon thy naked foot. Take thou the great sword that thou hast won and wear it worthily.”

Now Eric took snow and wiped the blood from his brow. Then he grasped Whitefire and drew it from the scabbard, and high aloft flashed the war-blade. Thrice he wheeled it round his head, then sang aloud:

”Fast, yestermorn, down Golden Falls, Fared young Eric to thy feast, Asmund, father of Gudruda-- Maid whom much he longs to clasp.

But to-day on Giant Blacktooth Hath he done a needful deed: Hurling him in heaped-up snowdrift; Winning Whitefire for his wage.”

And again he sang:

”Lord, if in very truth thou thinkest Brighteyes is a man midst men, Swear to him, the stalwart suitor, Handsel of thy sweet maid's hand: Whom, long loved, to win, down Goldfoss Swift he sped through frost and foam; Whom, to win, to troll-like Ogre, He, 'gainst Whitefire, waged his eye.”

Men thought this well sung, and turned to hear Asmund's answer, nor must they wait long.

”Eric,” he said, ”I will promise thee this, that if thou goest on as thou hast begun, I will give Gudruda in marriage to no other man.”