Eric Brighteyes. Генри Райдер Хаггард

the swan had driven the snake, and it wheeled high into the air and flew south, and the snake swam away also through the sea. But the dove drooped and now it was blind. Then an eagle came from the north, and would have taken the dove, but it fled round and round, crying, and always the eagle drew nearer to it. At length, from the south the swan came back, flying heavily, and about its neck was twined the golden snake, and with it came a raven. And it saw the eagle and loud it trumpeted, and shook the snake from it so that it fell like a gleam of gold into the sea. Then the eagle and the swan met in battle, and the swan drove the eagle down and broke it with his wings, and, flying to the dove, comforted it. But those in the house ran out and shot at the swan with bows and drove it away, but now he, Asmund, was not with them. And once more the dove drooped. Again the swan came back, and with it the raven, and a great host were gathered against them, and, among them, all of Asmund’s kith and kin, and the men of his quarter and some of his priesthood, and many whom he did not know by face. And the swan flew at Björn his son, and shot out the sword of its tongue and slew him, and many a man it slew thus. And the raven, with a beak and claws of steel, slew also many a man, so that Asmund’s kindred fled and the swan slept by the dove. But as it slept the golden snake crawled out of the sea, and hissed in the ears of men, and they rose up to follow it. It came to the swan and twined itself about its neck. It struck at the dove and slew it. Then the swan awoke and the raven awoke, and they did battle till all who remained of Asmund’s kindred and people were dead. But still the snake clung about the swan’s neck, and presently snake and swan fell into the sea, and far out on the sea there burned a flame of fire. And Asmund awoke trembling and left the Temple.

      Now as he went, a woman came running, and weeping as she ran.

      “Haste, haste!” she cried; “a daughter is born to thee, and Gudruda thy wife is dying!”

      “Is it so?” said Asmund; “after ill dreams ill tidings.”

      Now in the bed-closet off the great hall of Middalhof lay Gudruda the Gentle and she was dying.

      “Art thou there, husband?” she said.

      “Even so, wife.”

      “Thou comest in an evil hour, for it is my last. Now hearken. Take thou the new-born babe within thine arms and kiss it, and pour water over it, and name it with my name.”

      This Asmund did.

      “Hearken, 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 swear that thou wilt not take the witchwoman Groa to wife, nor have anything to do with her, and this for thine own sake: for, if thou dost, she will be thy death. Dost thou swear?”

      “I swear it,” he said.

      “It is well; 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 bid me farewell, for I die.”

      He bent over her and kissed her, and it is said that Asmund wept in that hour, for after his fashion he loved his wife.

      “Give me the babe,” she said, “that it may lie once upon my breast.”

      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.”

      Now, it is said that, as she spoke these words, her face grew bright as a spirit’s, and, having spoken them, she fell back dead. And they laid her in earth, but Asmund mourned her much.

      But, when all was over and done, the dream that he had dreamed lay heavy on him. Now of all diviners of dreams Groa was the most skilled, and when Gudruda had been in earth seven full days, Asmund went to Groa, though doubtfully, because of his oath.

      He came to the house and entered. On a couch in the chamber lay Groa, and her babe was on her breast and she was very fair to see.

      “Greeting, lord!” she said. “What wouldest thou here?”

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

      “That is as it may be,” she answered. “It is true that I have some skill in dreams. At the least I will hear it.”

      Then he unfolded it to her every word.

      “What wilt thou give me if I read thy dream?” she said.

      “What dost thou ask? Methinks I have given thee much.”

      “Yea, lord,” and she looked at the babe upon her breast. “I ask but a little thing: that thou shalt take this bairn in thy arms, pour water over it and name it.”

      “Men will talk if I do this, for it is the father’s part.”

      “It is a little thing what men say: 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. Nevertheless that is my price. Pay it if thou wilt.”

      “Read me the dream and I will name the child.”

      “Nay, first name thou the babe: for then no harm shall come to her at thy hands.”

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

      Then Groa spoke: “This lord, is the reading of thy dream, else my wisdom is at fault: The silver dove is thy daughter Gudruda, the golden snake is my daughter Swanhild, and these two shall hate one the other and strive against each other. But the swan is a mighty man whom both shall love, and, if he love not both, yet shall belong to both. And thou shalt send him away; but he shall return and bring bad luck to thee and thy house, and thy daughter 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. But Swanhild shall triumph over thy daughter Gudruda, and this man, and the two of them, shall die at her hands, and, for the rest, who can say? But this is true—that the mighty man shall bring all thy race to an end. See now, I have read thy rede.”

      Then Asmund was very wroth. “Thou wast wise to beguile me to name thy bastard brat,” he said; “else had I been its death within this hour.”

      “This thou canst not do, lord, seeing that thou hast held it in thy arms,” Groa answered, laughing. “Go rather and lay out Gudruda the Fair on Coldback Hill; so shalt thou make an end of the evil, for Gudruda shall be its very root. Learn this, moreover: that thy dream does not tell all, seeing that thou thyself must play a part in the fate. Go, send forth the babe Gudruda, and be at rest.”

      “That cannot be, for I have sworn to cherish it, and with an oath that may not be broken.”

      “It is well,” laughed Groa. “Things will befall as they are fated; let them befall in their season. There is space for cairns on Coldback and the sea can shroud its dead!”

      And Asmund went thence, angered at heart.

II

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HOW ERIC TOLD HIS LOVE TO GUDRUDA IN THE SNOW ON COLDBACK

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      Now, it must be told that, five years before the day of the death of Gudruda the Gentle, Saevuna, the wife of Thorgrimur Iron-Toe, gave birth to