Vandrad the Viking

Vandrad the Viking

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Title: Vandrad the Viking The Feud and the Spell
Author: J. Storer Clouston
Release Date: February, 2004 [EBook #5120] [Yes, we are more than
one year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on May 4, 2002]
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VANDRAD
THE VIKING ***

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VANDRAD THE VIKING
or
The Feud and the Spell
by
J. STORER CLOUSTON

WITH SIX ILLUSTRATIONS BY HUBERT PATON

CONTENTS.
I. THE WEST SEA SAILING
II. THE BAIRN-SLAYERS
III. THE HOLY ISLE
IV. THE ISLAND SPELL
V. ANDREAS THE HERMIT
VI. THE HALL OF LIOT
VII. THE VERDICT OF THE SWORD
VIII. IN THE CELL BY THE ROOST
IX. THE MESSAGE OF THE RUNES
X. KING BUE'S FEAST
XI. THE HOUSE IN THE FOREST
XII. THE MAGICIAN
XIII. ARROW AND SHIELD
XIV. THE MIDNIGHT GUEST
XV. THE LAST OF THE LAWMAN
XVI. KING ESTEIN
XVII. THE END OF THE STORY

CHAPTER I.
THE WEST SEA SAILING.
Long after King Estein had joined his fathers on the little holm beyond
Hernersfiord, and Helgi, Earl of Askland, had become but a warlike
memory, the skalds of Sogn still sang this tale of Vandrad the Viking.
It contained much wonderful magic, and some astonishingly hard
strokes, as they told it; but reading between their lines, the magic bears
a strong resemblance to many spells cast even at this day, and as for the
sword strokes, there was need for them to be hard in Norway then. For
that was the age of the making of many kingdoms, and the North was
beginning to do its share.
One May morning, more than a thousand years ago, so the story runs,
an old man came slowly along a woodland track that uncoiled itself
from the mountain passes and snow-crowned inlands of Norway.
Presently the trees grew thinner, and grass and wild flowers spread on
either hand, and at last, just where the path dipped down to the
water-side at Hernersfiord, the traveller stopped. For a while he
remained there in the morning sunshine, watching the scene below, and
now and then speaking out his thoughts absently in the rapt manner of a
visionary.
Though his clothes were old and weather-stained, and bare of any
ornament, his face and bearing were such as strike the mind at once and
stay in the memory. He was tall and powerfully framed, and bore his
years and the white volume of his beard in an altogether stately fashion;
but his eyes were most indelible, pale blue and singularly cold in
repose, very bright and keen and searching when his face was
animated.
They saw much to stir them that morning. On the slope above
Hernersfiord stood the royal hall of Hakonstad, the seat of the kings of
Sogn; and all about the house, and right down to the water's edge, there
was a great bustle and movement of men. From the upland valley at the
fiord head, warriors trooped down to the ships that lay by the long

stone pier. The morning sun glanced on their helmets and coats of mail,
and in the still air the clash of preparation rang far up the pine-clad
hillside. He could see some bringing weapons and provisions down to
the shore, and others busily lading the ships. Women mingled in the
crowd, and every here and there a gay cloak and gilded helm marked a
leader of rank.
"Ay, the season has come for Vikings to put to sea again," he said.
"Brave and gay are the warriors of Sogn, and lightly they leave. When
a man is young, all roads are pleasant, and all lead home again. Many
have I seen set sail these last sixty years, and their sailing led
them--where?"
And then