It was the hour of sacrifice. The victim lay bound upon the stone inthe presence of the statue of the god, but outside of the doors of thelittle temple, that all who were gathered there might see the offering.
The ceremonies were ended. Leif, the head priest, in his robe of office,had prayed and drunk the cup before the god, dedicating to him the bloodthat was about to fall, and narrating in a chant the crimes for whichit was offered up and all the tale of woe that these had brought about.Then, in the midst of an utter silence, he drew the sacrificial swordand held it to the lips of Odin that the god might breathe upon it andmake it holy.
It would seem that the god did breathe; at least, that side of the swordwhich had been bright grew dull. Leif turned it to the people, crying inthe ancient words:
"Odin takes; who dare deny?"
All eyes were fixed upon him, standing in his black robe, and holdingaloft the gleaming sword that had grown dull. Yes, even the patient eyesof Steinar, bound upon the stone.
Then it was that some spirit stirred in my heart which drove me on tostep between the priest and his prey. Standing in the doorway of thechapel, a tall, young shape against the gloom behind, I said in a steadyvoice:
"I dare deny!"
A gasp of wonderment went up from all who heard, and Steinar, liftinghimself a little from the stone, stared at me, shook his head as if indissent, then let it fall again, and listened.
"Hearken, friends," I said. "This man, my foster-brother, has committeda sin against me and my House. My House is dead--I alone remain; and onbehalf of the dead and of myself I forgive him his sin, which, indeed,was less his than another's. Is there any man among you who at some timehas not been led aside by woman, or who has not again and again desiredto be so led aside? If such a one there be, let him say that he has noforgiveness in his heart for Steinar, the son of Hakon. Let him comeforward and say it."
None stirred; even the women drooped their heads and were silent.
"Then, if this is so," I went on, "and you can forgive, as I do, howmuch more should a god forgive? What is a god? Is he not one greaterthan man, who must know all the weakness of man, which, for his ownends, he has bred into the flesh of man? How, then, can he do otherwisethan be pitiful to what he has created? If this be so, how can thegod refuse that which men are willing to grant, and what sacrifice canplease him better than the foregoing of his own vengeance? Would a godwish to be outdone by a man? If I, Olaf, the man can forgive, who havebeen wronged, how much more can Odin the god forgive, who has sufferedno wrong save that of the breaking of those laws which will ever bebroken by men who are as it has pleased him to fashion them? On Odin'sbehalf, therefore, and speaking as he would speak, could he have voiceamong us, I demand that you set this victim free, leaving it to his ownheart to punish him."
Now, some whom my simple words had touched, I suppose because there wastruth in them, although in those days and in that land none understoodsuch truths, and others, because they had known and loved theopen-handed Steinar, who would have given the cloak from his back to themeanest of them, cried:
"Aye, let him go free. There has been enough of death through thisIduna."
But more stood silent, lost in doubt at this new doctrine. Only Leif,my uncle, did not stand silent. His dark face began to work as thougha devil possessed him, as, indeed, I think one did. His eyes rolled; hechamped his jaws like an angry hog, and screamed:
"Surely the lord Olaf is mad, for no sane man would talk thus. Manmay forgive while it is within his power; but this traitor has beendedicated to Odin, and can a god forgive? Can a god spare when hisnostrils are opened for the smell of blood? If so, of what use is it tobe a god? How is he happier than a man if he must spare? Moreover,would ye bring the curse of Odin upon you all? I say to you--steal hissacrifice, and you yourselves shall be sacrificed, you, your wives, yourchildren, aye, and even your cattle and the fruit of your fields."
When they heard this, the people groaned and shouted out:
"Let Steinar die! Kill him! Kill him that Odin may be fed!"
"Aye," answered Leif, "Steinar shall die. See, he dies!"
Then, with a leap like to that of a hungry wolf, he sprang upon thebound man and slew him.
I see it now. The rude temple, the glaring statue of the god, thegathered crowd, open mouthed and eyed, the spring sunshine shiningquietly over all, and, running past the place, a ewe calling to the lambthat it had lost; I see the dying Steinar turn his white face, andsmile a farewell to me with his fading eyes; I see Leif getting to hishorrible rites that he might learn the omen, and lastly I see the redsword of the Wanderer appear suddenly between me and him, and in myhand. I think that my purpose was to cut him down. Only a thought arosewithin me.
This priest was not to blame. He did no more than he had been taught.Who taught him? The god he served, through whom he gained honour andlivelihood. So the god was to blame, the god that drank the blood ofmen, as a thrall drinks ale, to satisfy his filthy appetite. Could sucha monster be a god? Nay, he must be a devil, and why should free menserve devils? At least, I would not. I would cast him off, and let himavenge himself upon me if he could. I, Olaf, would match myself againstthis god--or devil.
I strode past Leif and the altar to where the statue of Odin sat withinthe temple.
"Hearken!" I said in such a voice that all lifted their eyes from thescene of butchery to me. "You believe in Odin, do you not?"
They answered "Aye."
"Then you believe that he can revenge himself upon one who rejects andaffronts him?"
"Aye," they answered again.
"If this be so," I went on, "will you swear to leave the matter betweenOdin and me, Olaf, to be settled according to the law of single combat,and give peace to the victor, with promise from all harm save at thehands of his foe?"
"Aye," they answered, yet scarcely understanding what they said.
"Good!" I cried. "Now, God Odin, I, Olaf, a man, challenge you to singlecombat. Strike you first, you, Odin, whom I name Devil and Wolf of theskies, but no god. Strike you first, bloody murderer, and kill me, ifyou can, who await your stroke!"
Then I folded my arms and stared at the statue's stony eyes, whichstared back at me, while all the people gasped.
For a full minute I waited thus, but all that happened was that a wrensettled on the head of Odin and twittered there, then flew off to itsnest in the thatch.
"Now," I cried, "you have had your turn, and mine comes."
I drew the Wanderer's sword, and sprang at Odin. My first stroke sunk upto the hilt in his hollow belly; my next cut the sceptre from his hand;my third--a great one--hewed the head from off him. It came rattlingdown, and out of it crawled a viper, which reared itself up and hissed.I set my heel upon the reptile's head and crushed it, and slowly itwrithed itself to death.
"Now, good folk," I cried, "what say you of your god Odin?"
They answered nothing, for all of them were in flight. Yes, even Leiffled, cursing me over his shoulder as he went.
Presently I was alone with the dead Steinar and the shattered god, andin that loneliness strange visions came to me, for I felt that I haddone a mighty deed, one that made me happy. Round the wall of thetemple crept a figure; it was that of Freydisa, whose face was white andscared.
"You are a great man, Olaf," she said; "but how will it end?"
"I do not know," I answered. "I have done what my heart told me, neithermore nor less, and I bide the issue. Odin shall have his chance, forhere I stay till dark, and then, if I live, I leave this land. Go, getme all the gold that is mine from the hall, and bring it here to me bymoonrise, and with it some garments and my armour. Bring me also my besthorse."
"You leave this land?" she said. "That means that you leave me, who loveyou, to go forth as the Wanderer went--following a dream to the South.Well, it is best that you should go, for whatever they have promised youbut now, it is sure that the priests will kill you, even if you escapethe vengeance of the god." And she looked askance at the shatteredsta
tue which had sat in its place for so many generations that none knewwho had set it there, or when.
"I have killed the god," I answered, pointing to the crushed viper.
"Not quite, Olaf, for, see, its tail still moves."
Then she went, leaving me alone. I sat myself down by the murderedSteinar, and stared at him. Could he be really dead, I wondered, or didhe live on elsewhere? My faith had taught me of a place called Valhallawhere brave men went, but in that faith and its gods I believed no more.This Valhalla was but a child's tale, invented by a bloody-minded folkwho loved slaughter. Wherever Steinar and the others were, it was not inValhalla. Then, perhaps, they slept like the beasts do after these havebeen butchered. Perhaps death was the end of all. It might be so, andyet I did not believe it. There were other gods besides Odin and hiscompany, for what were those which we had found in the Wanderer's tomb?I longed to know.
Yes, I would go south, as the Wanderer went, and search for them.Perhaps there in the South I should learn the secret truth--and otherthings.
I grew weary of these thoughts of gods who could not be found, or who,if found, were but devils. My mind went back to my childhood's days,when Steinar and I played together on the meads, before any woman hadcome to wreck our lives. I remembered how we used to play until we wereweary, and how at nights I would tell him tales that I had learned orwoven, until at length we sank to sleep, our arms about each other'snecks. My heart grew full of sorrow that in the end broke from my eyesin tears. Yes, I wept over Steinar, my brother Steinar, and kissed hiscold and gory lips.
The evening gathered, the twilight grew, and, one by one, the starssprang out in the quiet sky, till the moon appeared and gathered alltheir radiance to herself. I heard the sound of a woman's dress, andlooked up, thinking to see Freydisa. But this woman was not Freydisa; itwas Iduna! Yes, Iduna's self!
I rose to my feet and stood still. She also stood still, on the fartherside of the stone of sacrifice whereon that which had been Steinar wasstretched between us. Then came a struggle of silence, in which she wonat last.
"Have you come to save him?" I asked. "If so, it is too late. Woman,behold your work."
She shook her beautiful head and answered, almost in a whisper:
"Nay, Olaf, I am come to beg a boon of you: that you will slay me, hereand now."
"Am I a butcher--or a priest?" I muttered.
"Oh, slay me, slay me, Olaf!" she went on, throwing herself upon herknees before me, and rending open her blue robe that her young breastmight take the sword. "Thus, perchance, I, who love life, may pay someof the price of sin, who, if I slew myself, would but multiply the debt,which in truth I dare not do."
Still I shook my head, and once more she spoke:
"Olaf, in this way or in that doubtless my end will find me, for, if yourefuse this office, there are others of sterner stuff. The knife thatsmote Steinar is not blunted. Yet, before I die, who am come here but todie, I pray you hear the truth, that my memory may be somewhat less vileto you in the after years. Olaf, you think me the falsest of the false,yet I am not altogether so. Hark you now! At the time that Steinarsought me, some madness took him. So soon as we were alone together, hisfirst words were: 'I am bewitched. I love you.'
"Olaf, I'll not deny that his worship stirred my blood, for he wasgoodly--well, and different to you, with your dreaming eyes and thoughtsthat are too deep for me. And yet, by my breath, I swear that I meantno harm. When we rode together to the ship, it was my purpose to returnupon the morrow and be made your wife. But there upon the ship my fathercompelled me. It was his fancy that I should break with you and be wedto Steinar, who had become so great a lord and who pleased him betterthan you did, Olaf. And, as for Steinar--why, have I not told you thathe was mad for me?"
"Steinar's tale was otherwise, Iduna. He said that you went first, andthat he followed."
"Were those his words, Olaf? For, if so, how can I give the dead thelie, and one who died through me? It seems unholy. Yet in this matterSteinar had no reason left to him and, whether you believe me or no, Itell the truth. Oh! hear me out, for who knows when they will come totake me, who have walked into this nest of foes that I may be taken?Pray as I would, the ship was run out, and we sailed for Lesso. There,in my father's hall, upon my knees, I entreated him to hold his hand.I told him what was true: that, of you twain, it was you I loved, notSteinar. I told him that if he forced this marriage, war would come ofit that might mean all our deaths. But these things moved him nothing.Then I told him that such a deed of shame would mean the loss ofSteinar's lordship, so that by it he would gain no profit. At last helistened, for this touched him near. You know the rest. Thorvald, yourfather, and Ragnar, who ever hated me, pressed on the war despite allour offerings of peace. So the ships met, and Hela had her fill."
"Aye, Iduna, whatever else is false, this is true, that Hela had herfill."
"Olaf, I have but one thing more to say. It is this: Only once did thosedead lips touch mine, and then it was against my will. Aye, although itis shameful, you must learn the truth. My father held me, Olaf, while Itook the betrothal kiss, because I must. But, as you know, there was nomarriage."
"Aye, I know that," I said, "because Steinar told me so."
"And, save for that one kiss, Olaf, I am still the maid whom once youloved so well."
Now I stared at her. Could this woman lie so blackly over dead Steinar'scorpse? When all was said and done, was it not possible that she spokethe truth, and that we had been but playthings in the hands of an evilFate? Save for some trifling error, which might be forgiven to one who,as she said, loved the worship that was her beauty's due, what if shewere innocent, after all?
Perhaps my face showed the thoughts that were passing through my mind.At the least, she who knew me well found skill to read them. She crepttowards me, still on her knees; she cast her arms about me, and, restingher weight upon me, drew herself to her feet.
"Olaf," she whispered, "I love you, I love you well, as I have alwaysdone, though I may have erred a little, as women wayward and still unwedare apt to do. Olaf, they told me yonder how you had matched yourselfagainst the god, with his priests for judges, and smitten him, and Ithought this the greatest deed that ever I have known. I used to thinkyou something of a weakling, Olaf, not in your body but in your mind,one lost in music and in runes, who feared to put things to the touchof war; but you have shown me otherwise. You slew the bear; you overcameSteinar, who was so much stronger than you are, in the battle of theships; and now you have bearded Odin, the All-father. Look, his headlies there, hewn off by you for the sake of one who, after all, had doneyou wrong. Olaf, such a deed as that touches a woman's heart, and hewho does it is the man she would wish to lie upon her breast and be herlord. Olaf, all this evil past may yet be forgotten. We might go andlive elsewhere for awhile, or always, for with your wisdom and my beautyjoined together what could we not conquer? Olaf, I love you now as Ihave never loved before, cannot you love me again?"
Her arms clung about me; her beautiful blue eyes, shimmering withmoonlit tears, held my eyes, and my heart melted beneath her breath aswinter snows melt in the winds of spring. She saw, she understood; shecast herself upon me, shaking her long hair over both of us, and seekingmy lips. Almost she had found them, when, feeling something hard betweenme and her, something that hurt me, I looked down. Her cloak had slippedor been thrown aside, and my eye caught the glint of gold and jewels. Inan instant I remembered--the Wanderer's necklace and the dream--and withthose memories my heart froze again.
"Nay, Iduna," I said, "I loved you well; there's no man will ever loveyou more, and you are very fair. Whether you speak true words or false,I do not know; it is between you and your own spirit. But this I doknow: that betwixt us runs the river of Steinar's blood, aye, andthe blood of Thorvald, my father, of Thora, my mother, of Ragnar, mybrother, and of many another man who clung to us, and that is a streamwhich I cannot cross. Find you another husband, Iduna the Fair, sincenever will I call you wife."
She loo
sed her arms from round me, and, lifting them again, unclaspedthe Wanderer's necklace from about her breast.
"This it is," she said, "which has brought all these evils on me. Takeit back again, and, when you find her, give it to that one for whomit is meant, that one whom you love truly, as, whatever you may havethought, you never have loved me."
Then she sank upon the ground, and resting her golden head upon deadSteinar's breast, she wept.