A Sea Queen's Sailing by Charles Whistler

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Then as we looked at one another, there came to me as it were a
breath from my lost home in far-off Caithness, for a whiff of peat
smoke hung round us and was gone so quickly that I thought it
almost fancy. But Dalfin had smelt it also.

"There is a fire alight on board," he said. "I smelt the smoke.
That means food, and someone on board after all."

With that he shouted, but there was no answer. It would have been a
relief to me if some ship's dog had flown out and barked at us; but
all was silent, and that was uncanny here in the open sea, and on
such a ship.

"Well," said Bertric, "crew or no, we must go on board. No use in
waiting."

He swung himself up from the boat over the high gunwale, and then
gave me a hand, and together we hauled up Dalfin, and so stood and
stared at all we saw in wonder.

Everything was in perfect trim, and the ship was fitted as if for a
long cruise. She had two handsome boats, with carven gunwales and
stem and stern posts set on their chocks side by side amidships,
with their sails and oars in them. Under the gunwales on either
board were lashed the ship's oars, and with them two carved gangway
planks which seemed never to have been used. Every line and rope's
end was coiled down snugly, and every trace of shore litter had
been cleared from the white decks as if she had been a week at
least at sea, though we knew, from her course, that she could not
be more than a few hours out from the Norway coast. We had guessed
that she might have sailed at dawn.

But we wondered not so much at the trim of the ship, though that
puzzled us; just aft of the mast, and set against its foot, was the
pile we had taken for deck cargo, and the like of it I had never
seen. There had been built of heavy pine timbers, whose ends butted
against either gunwale below, and rose to a ridge pole above, a
pent house, as it were, which stood at the ridge some six feet high
from the deck, and was about two fathoms long. Its end was closed
with timbers also, and against this end, and round, and partly over
the roof, had been piled fagots of brushwood, so that it was almost
covered. Either from haste, or else loosened by the movement of the
ship, one or two of these fagots had not found a place with the
rest, but lay on the deck by the boats. As if to keep the pile
steady, on either side had been set a handsomely carved sledge, and
on the pile at the end was a light wagon, also carved, and with
bright bronze fittings. The wheels had been taken off and set
inside it. Under the piles showed a barrel or two, which it was
plain were tar barrels.

"Firewood for a long sea passage," I said. "And sledges and wagon
for a land journey at its end. One would say that the ship was
flitting a whole family to Iceland--the new land to which men go
today."

"Aye, I have heard of that land, and of families who go there,"
said Bertric. "That seems to explain some things, but not why the
ship is adrift."

"What will be in the house yonder?" asked Dalfin.

"Maybe it was built for the women of the family," I said.

Now, this was so likely that for the moment the wonder passed. We
had to tend ship while the breeze held off if we would do anything
with her presently. She was not of the largest build, but both
Bertric and I knew that it would be all that we three could do, one
of us being a landsman moreover, to handle her if it came on to
blow at all freshly.

Now, I would not have it thought that we three castaways were much
in the mind to puzzle over the ship which we had gained, almost
against hope. It was enough for us to rejoice in the feel of firm
planks under our feet once more, and to find naught terrible, but
promise of all we needed, while the strain of the longboat voyage
with its ever-present peril was over. Dalfin broke that first short
silence.

"I am desperately hungry," he said. "Surely there will be food on
board?"

The breeze freshened up again, and the sail flattened against the
mast with a clap, and the ship quivered. It was naught to us, but
it made the landsman start and look upward as if expecting to see
somewhat carried away, while I laughed at him.

"Work first and food afterward," said Bertric. "We must tend ship
while wind is little, if at all. Why, we are not more than half
starved yet, for barley bread stands by one nobly."

"Give me somewhat to do, and maybe I shall forget the hunger,"
Dalfin answered ruefully. "Which of you two is to be captain?"

"Bertric," I said at once. "That is his place by all right."

"It is an old trade of mine," the Saxon said quietly "Well, it is
to be seen if I can justify my sayings of myself."

The sun had set by the time we boarded the ship, but we had not
noticed it in the bright twilight. The short northern night would
be no darker than now until the sunrising, for we were close on
midsummer, and there was every sign of settled fair weather after
the gale. Even now the last breeze was dying away, leaving the sea
bright and unruffled under the glow in the northwest sky. It was
only to be hoped that presently some summer breeze might suffer us
to lay our course southward or eastward, toward the land where we
might find haven and help.

Now Bertric set us to work, and we had little or no trouble, for
the breeze fell altogether very quickly. The sheet had fouled the
great cleat which was bolted to the deck beams amidships aft for
the backstay, and that was easily cleared. Then we swung the yard
fore and aft, Dalfin hauling as he was bidden, with fixed intent to
haul till further orders, which was all we needed from him. Then
Bertric would have two reefs taken in, for we could not tell what
weather we might meet, or for how long we might have to stay on
board without help. The foot of the sail was wet, as with heavy
rain.

"We can take no chances," he said. "Yet it is likely that we shall
have a ship or two in chase of us shortly. It is a wonder to me
that we have seen none yet. But word will go along the coast of what
has happened. It is not the first time that a carelessly-moored
vessel has got adrift in a calm, and found a breeze for herself,
while her sail was hoisted to dry in the sun."

Now, all we had to do was to carry forward the tack and set it up
for reaching, and to do that we had to climb over the fagots at the
foot of the penthouse, and the gunwale end of the timbers they
rested on, the run of the deck being blocked altogether by the
pile. Seeing that when the ship was to be put about the square sail
had to be lowered, brought aft round the mast and rehoisted on the
other board, the unhandiness of the thing was terribly unseamanlike.
Bertric and I grumbled and wondered at it the while we worked, only
hoping that by some stroke of luck we might be able to reach a haven
without having to shift the sail. It was to the starboard of the
mast now, which would serve us well if the wind came from east or
north, as was most likely.

Maybe that was an hour's work, and we had done all we might. By
that time the breeze had altogether gone, and the ship floated idly
on still, bright water, with the hush of the night round us. There
was time to tow her head round when we knew whence the morning wind
would blow.

Bertric coiled down the fall of the tack purchase, and nodded to
Dalfin. "Food now, if there is to be any," he said. "What is in yon
kettle?"

Now that we were forward we had seen that against this end of the
penthouse no fagots had been piled. The red and white striped
awnings of the decks were set there, carefully rolled up round
their carved supports, and they rested on a stout sea bedstead,
such as might be carried on board for the chief to whom the ship
belonged. Two more chests stood at the head and foot of this
bedstead, and they were carved, as indeed was the bed. It was plain
that all the gear on board belonged to some great house.

But six or eight feet forward of these things, and in the midst of
a clear space of deck, was a shallow square box full of sand, and
on that was set the covered kettle of which our comrade spoke. The
sandbox was that on which a fire might be lighted at sea if need
were, but none had been used on it as yet. Hard by were two casks
lashed to ringbolts on deck, one of which was covered, and the
other had a spigot in it. They held oatcake in one, and water in
the other, as perhaps one might have expected, here where the men
of the crew would gather forward. And the kettle was full of boiled
meat, which was maybe the most welcome sight to us that we could
have looked on. For, if we had managed to forget it, we were
famished.

So then and there we made a royal meal, asking not at all what the
meat might be, only knowing that it was good, thanks to the unknown
hands which had made it ready. There was enough in that great sea
cauldron for two more such meals as this, and the oatcake barrel
was full. We had no fear of hunger again for a time, and if there
was no more to be found by the time this store was ended, we should
surely have found haven or help in some way, most likely by the
coming of some ship in search with the morning at latest.

Now, as I sat on the deck and ate, once and again came to me that
sharp smell of peat smoke, and at last I spoke of it, asking if the
others had not smelt it.

"I smell somewhat strange to me," said Bertric. "It is a pleasant
smell enough. What is amiss with it?"

"What, do your folk in England use no peat?" said Dalfin in
surprise. "Why, we should hardly know how to make a fire without
it. It is peat smoke you smell."

"Why, then, there must be fire somewhere!" said Bertric, leaping
up.

"Smouldering peat, certainly," I said, rising with him. "Under yon
fagots is the only place I can think of as possible--or under the
deck planking."

We went to the penthouse, and climbed on the piles of fagots on the
port side. When we trimmed sail afresh we had hauled it along the
starboard, and had at least smelt nothing of the smoke there. But
now we set to work and hove the fagots overboard, setting the
handsome sledge from off them forward out of the way. The peat
smoke grew stronger as we lowered the pile, and at last a little
cloud of blue smoke came up to us.

"No hurry," said I to Bertric, who was anxious, "there is no wind
to fan the turfs into flame. It can but smoulder slowly."

"It is here," cried Dalfin, lifting a fagot whose under side was
scorched and blackened, though more by heat and smoke than flame.

Under that was a bushel or so of peat, the midst of which was but a
black hollow, round the sides of which the fire glowed red, only
waiting for the wind to fan it into life. The turfs blazed a little
in the draught as we cast them overboard quickly. Then we sent all
the fagots on that side after them.

"This is no chance," I said. "There may be more yet. We must get
all this lumber cleared."

It had been the same on the other side of the pile, but the peat
was cold and dead, not having burned so long. Then we moved the
wagon from the after end of the penthouse, and cleared that. Here
again was peat, and more of it, and it had been lighted, and had
only been out for a short time. Some of the turfs may still have
had fire within them, but we did not wait to see. And all the while
as we worked at this strange task, I wondered what the meaning of
it all was.

The last fagot went overboard, and Bertric rose up and looked at
me. His face was white as with some fear, and he stepped backward
away from the penthouse aft.

"Comrades," he said, "why did they want to burn this ship? She is
not burnt, only because as she ran in the light breeze there was no
wind to set the peat aflame. They meant her to burn when she was in
the open sea--when the spark they set in the turf should have had
time to grow to flame, and fire the brushwood. Look at those two
tar barrels set handy."

"Aye," I said, for all this had been growing on me. "They meant her
to run far from shore before her rigging went. That is why the
halliards have been brought aft, out of the way of the flame."

"And why the sail was wet," said Dalfin. "And maybe why we are not
chased."

"It comes into my mind," said Bertric slowly, "that there has been
pestilence on board, and that they would rid themselves of it."

But I hardly noted what he said. There had come to me, of a sudden,
the memory of old tales of the ways of my Norse forefathers, and
the certainty of what that penthouse might hold flashed on me. Many
a time I had heard how in long ago days men would set the body of
their dead chief afloat in his favourite ship, with all his
treasure and war gear, and all else that a chief might need in
Asgard; and so light his balefire on board, and let him pass to a
sea grave beyond the ken of men in strange magnificence. For we of
the old faith hold that what a man buries in life, or takes with
him to the grave in death, is his to enjoy in the hall of Odin when
he comes thither. It was the ancient way, and a wonderful one--the
way of the Asir with the dead Baldur.

Yet I had ever been told that the custom was long past, and that
such a sea and fire burial was unheard of now. It was only the
finding of the half-dead fire which minded me of it; for that which
we had thought of a family flitting across the seas to Iceland--the
sail, wet with the thunder rain of yesterday, spread to dry, and
then the coming over the hills of the cast wind suddenly, setting
the carelessly-moored ship adrift from some westward-looking haven,
where lay no other craft which could follow her, had been quite
enough to account for the wandering vessel.

Now I knew that only one thing would account for the purposeful
firing of the ship. Yonder lay some mighty chief--and as I thought
of that I clutched Bertric's arm and pointed.

"Not the pestilence, comrade," I said; "but what lies in yonder
penthouse."

"What should be there?" he asked, wondering, for my voice was
unsteady.

"We have boarded the funeral ship of some chief," I said. "He lies
shut in that chamber with his treasures round him."

"To be burned in his ship at sea," said Bertric quietly. "Well, a
Viking might find a less fitting funeral. Truly, it seems as if you
may be right, and we must needs see if so it is."

Now Dalfin had listened, crossing himself once or twice, and he
nodded.

"I like it not at all," he said; "but we must see what is yonder,
and if Malcolm is right."

It was strange to me that these two showed no fear of him who
doubtless lay there, in the chamber which his men had made for him.
We hold that the one who dares open the grave chamber is the
hardiest of men, running most fearsome risk from the wrath of the
dead hero. For, if aught will bring back the life to a warrior who
has died, it will be that one should set hands on his war gear. And
we hold that the ghost of a man hides near his body for many days,
and therefore see that at hand is set the food that may be needful
if the ghost hungers and will come back for a space to eat. Else he
may wander forth, troll-like and terrible, to seek what he needs.

I think that it is no wonder if I feared, having been taught all
this. But my comrades were Christians, and on them was no fear of
the quiet dead; but only an awe, and reverence. But of that I knew
naught.

"Why must we open the house?" I said. "It is as if we courted the
wrath of the chief. I have been told of men who would try to win
the treasure from a mound where one was buried, and died with fear
of what he met with there."

"Such an one deserved it," said Bertric quietly; "but we seek no
treasure, nor would rob the dead. No doubt the wrath of Heaven lies
hard on one who does so. Yet all this time we do not know if we are
right or not."

"Let it be," said I.

"I do not think that we should," Dalfin said. "For if you are
right--and you are a Norseman, and know--while it seems about the
only possible reading of what has puzzled us--then we must needs
sail to the Norway shore that the men of the chief may know what
has happened, and either lay him in mound, or see this better
carried out."

"Aye," said Bertric, "Dalfin is right. By chance we have been set
in charge of this ship--maybe not at all by chance--that we may see
honour done at last. Maybe we cannot make for Norway when the wind
comes. If not, we must plan otherwise. Come, I cannot rest till I
know."

But I held him back, making no secret of my fears.

"We shall have to reckon with the wrath of the hero," I said. "It
will be terrible--and we know not what may happen."

At that Dalfin stared at me; but Bertric, who had seen other lands
and knew the ways of men, smiled and set his hand on my arm.

"I do not fear him," he said. "It is impossible that if a chief
lies there he can be wroth with men who will do naught but honour
him. Think--is there any honour to the mighty dead that he should
wander across the lone sea thus, as we met him?"

I knew that he was right, and did not gainsay him. After all, we
were sure to have looked into that chamber presently, and to have
found what I feared--suddenly and unexpectedly--would have been
worse. So I set my fears aside as best I could, and went forward
with them both to the end of the house, in which we had seen no
sign of door. I thought that perhaps the upright timbers which
closed the end might be loose; but they were nailed to the roof
beam, against which they were set too firmly for us to move them,
and we must look for some axe or other tool.

"One of the chests forward is the ship's carpenter's," said Dalfin.
"I opened it when we sought for food just now."

He slipped round the house and came back with a heavy hammer and a
broad chisel. Bertric took them, and prised away the upper end of
the midmost timber without any trouble. Then he drew it toward him,
and the lower end wrenched free at once, for the nails that held
this building which was to be burnt were not long. And while he did
this, he stood on one side, that he might not pry into the chamber
idly, as it were, while Dalfin and I could see nothing from where
we stood. Only a little peat smoke seemed to come out gently when
the timber had gone.

It did but need that two more timbers should be moved thus, and
there was room enough for a man to pass through. Then Bertric set
down the hammer, and took off his rough sea cap, smiling a little,
yet with grave eyes, and so looked in. Dalfin pressed close to him,
but I stood aside still.

"The place is full of the peat smoke. I can see nothing," Dalfin
said.

"Somewhat white on the floor," said Bertric; "but we block the
light."

He stood aside, and the shadowless brightness shone across the
chamber through the thinning peat smoke. I saw him start a little,
and Dalfin signed himself with his holy sign once or twice. Then I
must look also, almost in spite of myself, and I went forward
quietly.

Chapter 4: By Sea And Fire.

It was even as I thought. There lay in state, as his men had left
him, a wonderful old chief, whose long, white beard swept like a
snowdrift down the crimson cloak in which he was shrouded. They had
set him on just such a low, carved bedstead as that which we had
found outside the house, dressed in his full mail, and helmed, and
with his sword at his side, such a priceless weapon, with
gold-mounted scabbard and jewelled hilt, as men have risked the
terrors of grave mounds to win. His white hand rested on the
pommel, and he was facing forward as if looking toward the far
shore which he was to reach through the flames. But there was
naught terrible in his look, and even my fears passed as I saw the
peacefulness of that last sleep.

The smoke thinned quickly from the chamber; for it had only soaked
into it from the peat against its roughly made walls, over which
the fagots had been piled too heavily and closely for their
purpose. Then we saw that all the deck round the bier was full of
caskets and bales, and that on the far wall hung weapons--swords
and axes, spears, and bows and arrows, and with them mail shirts
and helms and shields, such as the chief himself might wear. And by
the side of the chief, packed carefully in a rushen basket, were
the bowls, one metal, and the rest of black earthenware, which held
the food for the grave, according to our custom. There was a tall
jar of wine also, covered with its little silver drinking cup.

Now we stood for a little while silent, and then Dalfin spoke.

"What is that yonder?" he asked under his breath, and pointing to
the far end of the chamber. "As it were a heap of mail and linen."

I could not see what he meant, for I stood on one side, but Bertric
stepped a pace toward him, and looked more closely past the bier,
which almost hid whatever the pile might be. It seemed the only
thing set carelessly, for all else was in perfect order. Then he
started somewhat, and spoke hurriedly.

"As I live," he cried, but so low that the cry was all but stifled,
"it is a girl! Is she also dead or in a swoon?"

He stooped, after a moment's doubt, and went straight into the
place. It was so low at the sides of the bier which he must pass,
that he was almost double until he reached the foot, and stood up
under the ridge. Then he bent, and lifting his burden brought it
out into the open air, carrying it toward the after deck away from
the penthouse.

Then we saw that it was indeed a girl, tall and pale, with long
tresses of yellow-golden hair plaited and bound with some strange
gold-woven blue band, dressed in white, with a beautiful light coat
of mail over the kirtle.

"She is alive," said Bertric, setting her down very gently. "Either
the smoke in that close chamber--or fear--has overcome her. One of
you get water from the cask forward."

I went hastily; but I had to search for somewhat in which to bring
it, and was a few minutes before I found where the ship's buckets
hung under the gunwale right forward. But meanwhile, Dalfin, with
no fears in him, had gone gently to the penthouse and brought
thence the pitcher of wine and the silver bowl, so that when I came
back those two were trying to get some of the wine between the pale
lips, though without much success. Now we bathed her face with the
cool water, and presently the colour began to come back slowly,
though she did not stir.

"We are rough nurses at best," said Bertric; "but we can do better
than this. Let us get the bedstead that is forward, and set a fold
or two of the awning on it for her to rest on. Better than the hard
deck when she comes to herself, and maybe not so terrifying."

We left Dalfin to tend her, and brought the bedstead and canvas
with all speed, and so lifted her on it. Then Bertric went back
into the house and brought thence a blue cloak which lay where she
had fallen, and covered her with it, for the night was chill now.
It was her own, and with it he brought a light helm made of steel
bands and transparent horn between them, which must have fallen
from her head.

Maybe this maiden was of twenty years, or less, and to me, at
least, who had no sisters as had the others, she seemed beautiful
altogether. I know that had she faced us in life in the entry of
the chamber, clad as she was in her mail and helm, I had been sure
that she was a Valkyria, sent hither by Odin to choose the hero
yonder for his halls.

"She is long in coming round," said Bertric presently. "It may be
as well to close up that chamber before she sees it open, lest she
take us for common robbers, and be terrified."

Dalfin laughed a little.

"Helm and mail and fear should not go together," he said.

"She will wake without thought of what she has tried to be,"
answered Bertric. "Get the place closed, Malcolm, anywise."

Now Dalfin and I went together, and set back the timbers in their
places. But they would not bide there properly, and I took up the
hammer we had used to take them down, and drove one or two of the
upper nails again lightly, Dalfin kneeling and holding the ends
below. Whether the sharp click of the iron roused the girl or not I
cannot say, but I had not driven more than three before I heard a
little cry behind me, and turned to see if there was anything
amiss.

The girl was sitting up, and seeming not to heed Bertric at
all--for he was behind her and supporting her--was looking at us
two with wide eyes of fear and wonder. And when I turned of a
sudden, she set her hands together and held them out toward me as
if she prayed, and cried to me:

"Asa Thor! Asa Thor! will you leave me? Is there no place in
Freya's hall--in Gladsheim--for a maiden, if to Asgard she may not
come?"

I had no answer. For the moment I thought that she saw some vision
of the Asir beyond my ken, and then knew that it was indeed to
myself that she spoke. For I stood at the door of the house of the
dead, with Thor's weapon--the hammer--in my hand, and she wandered
in her mind with the weakness that comes after a swoon.

"Hush, lady, hush," said Bertric in a wonderfully gentle voice. "It
is not Thor whom you see, but only a friend."

But seeing that I made no answer, nor moved, for I was at a loss
altogether, she turned to Dalfin, who still knelt beside me,
watching her in blank amaze. The Norse gods were all but unknown to
him, save perhaps as he had heard their names now and then from the
Irish Danes.

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