Part 30 (1/2)

Then again she moved about the hall, making all things ready for the feast. But at midnight, when the light was low and folk slept, Groa rose, and, veiled in a black robe, with a basket in her hand, pa.s.sed like a shadow through the mists that hang about the river's edge, and in silence, always looking behind her, like one who fears a hidden foe, culled flowers of noisome plants that grow in the marsh. Her basket being filled, she pa.s.sed round the stead to a hidden dell upon the mountain side. Here a man stood waiting, and near him burned a fire of turf. In his hand he held an iron-pot. It was Koll the Half-witted, Groa's thrall.

”Are all things ready, Koll?” she said.

”Yes,” he answered; ”but I like not these tasks of thine, mistress. Say now, what wouldst thou do with the fire and the pot?”

”This, then, Koll. I would brew a love-potion for Asmund the Priest as he has bidden me to do.”

”I have done many an ill deed for thee, mistress, but of all of them I love this the least,” said the thrall, doubtfully.

”I have done many a good deed for thee, Koll. It was I who saved thee from the Doom-stone, seeming to prove thee innocent--ay, even when thy back was stretched on it, because thou hadst slain a man in his sleep.

Is it not so?”

”Yea, mistress.”

”And yet thou wast guilty, Koll. And I have given thee many good gifts, is it not so?”

”Yes, it is so.”

”Listen then: serve me this once and I will give thee one last gift--thy freedom, and with it two hundred in silver.”

Koll's eyes glistened. ”What must I do, mistress?”

”To-day at the wedding-feast it will be thy part to pour the cups while Asmund calls the toasts. Last of all, when men are merry, thou wilt mix that cup in which Asmund shall pledge Unna his wife and Unna must pledge Asmund. Now, when thou hast poured, thou shalt pa.s.s the cup to me, as I stand at the foot of the high seat, waiting to give the bride greeting on behalf of the serving-women of the household. Thou shalt hand the cup to me as though in error, and that is but a little thing to ask of thee.”

”A little thing indeed,” said Koll, staring at her, and pulling with his hand at his red hair, ”yet I like it not. What if I say no, mistress?”

”Say no or speak of this and I will promise thee one thing only, thou knave, and it is, before winter comes, that the crows shall pick thy bones! Now, brave me, if thou darest,” and straightway Groa began to mutter some witch-words.

”Nay,” said Koll, holding up his hand as though to ward away a blow.

”Curse me not: I will do as thou wilt. But when shall I touch the two hundred in silver?”

”I will give thee half before the feast begins, and half when it is ended, and with it freedom to go where thou wilt. And now leave me, and on thy life see that thou fail me not.”

”I have never failed thee yet,” said Koll, and went his ways.

Now Groa set the pot upon the fire, and, placing in it the herbs that she had gathered, poured water on them. Presently they began to boil and as they boiled she stirred them with a peeled stick and muttered spells over them. For long she sat in that dim and lonely place stirring the pot and muttering spells, till at length the brew was done.

She lifted the pot from the fire and smelt at it. Then drawing a phial from her robe she poured out the liquor and held it to the sky. The witch-water was white as milk, but presently it grew clear. She looked at it, then smiled evilly.

”Here is a love-draught for a queen--ah, a love-draught for a queen!”

she said, and, still smiling, she placed the phial in her breast.

Then, having scattered the fire with her foot, Groa took the pot and threw it into a deep pool of water, where it could not be found readily, and crept back to the stead before men were awake.

Now the day wore on and all the company were gathered at the marriage-feast to the number of nearly two hundred. Unna sat in the high seat, and men thought her a bonny bride, and by her side sat Asmund the Priest. He was a hale, strong man to look on, though he had seen some three-score winters; but his mien was sad, and his heart heavy. He drank cup after cup to cheer him, but all without avail. For his thought sped back across the years and once more he seemed to see the face of Gudruda the Gentle as she lay dying, and to hear her voice when she foretold evil to him if he had aught to do with Groa the Witch-wife. And now it seemed to him that the evil was at hand, though whence it should come he knew not. He looked up. There Groa moved along the hall, ministering to the guests; but he saw as she moved that her eyes were always fixed, now on him and now on Unna. He remembered that curse also which Groa had called down upon him when he had told her that he was betrothed to Unna, and his heart grew cold with fear. ”Now I will change my counsel,”

Asmund said to himself: ”Groa shall not stay here in this stead, for I will look no longer on that dark face of hers. She goes hence to-morrow.”

Not far from Asmund sat Bjorn, his son. As Gudruda the Fair, his sister, brought him mead he caught her by the sleeve, whispering in her ear.