For The White Christ Part 50

Olvir's face contracted with a pang of keenest anguish; but his voice rang out almost gaily: "How now, king's daughter; where is your trust?

No wolf should overtake us though we had ten leagues to cover."

"I trust my hero!" replied the girl, and the words gave added force to the Northman's swift strokes. But as he whirled his precious charge away from the silent pursuers, the dismal howling in the forest ahead swelled out with fearful distinctness.

Louder and yet louder resounded the yelling chorus, until the air quivered with the hideous din, and even Liutrad faltered, half fearing to advance. But then Olvir shot forward in the lead, and his call rang out bold and clear: "On! on, wolf-racers! We outstrip the chase! At yonder bend we 'll know the worst,--beyond is the howling pack. If we cannot pa.s.s, turn in to the cleft oak on the point. Its boughs will house us safe from Greyleg."

"We follow, ring-breaker!" shouted Liutrad, and all dashed on at racing speed, their hearts leaping with renewed hope. Every stroke left the grim pursuers farther to the rear.

But now they were sweeping around the river's bend, and the outcry before them rose to a deafening clamor. Dreadful as was the sound, it yet failed to prepare them for the scene that burst upon their startled gaze. Even Olvir's face whitened, and his lips moved in quick prayer.

A little way beyond the bend, the river's bank and the ice-edge was black with a dense ma.s.s of wolves, yelling and fighting and tearing at the snow in mad frenzy.

"G.o.d save us! they 're werwolves!" cried Gerold.

Hildegarde turned her despairing gaze about till it rested on young Karl.

"To the oak! to the oak, brother!" she screamed. "Save my boy!"

But Olvir pointed ahead with a forceful gesture: "Hold, fools! Follow me on! We'll dash by the mad fiends. Beyond is safety!"

Again the sea-king's words brought hope to his companions. Swifter than ever their skate-blades spurned the gla.s.sy surface, and they swept on around the bend at their utmost speed.

Such was the frenzy of the wolves in their weird saturnalia that at first they failed to heed the swiftly approaching skaters. But as the fugitives came flying past, the young wolves on the edge of the pack sighted the quarry, and yelled out the view-cry. Another moment, and the whole pack was swarming down the bank and out upon the ice, to head off the quarry.

So swiftly, however, were the skaters skimming past that all but a few of the foremost wolves were hopelessly outdistanced. Only a dozen or so of those farthest upstream succeeded in coming near the fugitives, and even of these the leader alone came within fair distance for the quarry leap. With a yell, the beast crouched, and flung himself at Hildegarde; but at the same instant Liutrad swerved aside with his charges, and Gerold, driving along a few paces behind the Northman, straightened up and cast his heavy boar-spear through the body of the leaping beast.

In a twinkling the Swabian had whirled young Karl past the writhing, snarling brute, and all were echoing the boy's shrill cry of triumph.

Though the wolf-pack yelled at their very heels, every hungry fang was now behind them.

"G.o.d be praised!" gasped Hildegarde. "The worst is past."

"We go free!" echoed Gerold, panting yet joyful; "we go free, out of their very jaws! Let the cheated fiends follow in their place!"

But Olvir was silent, and his glance s.h.i.+fted uneasily from the horde of yelling pursuers to the maiden at his side. There was little exultation in his tense white face. One peril had been pa.s.sed, but another now threatened. Rothada was gasping for breath. Notwithstanding his aid, she was almost outdone. Her strokes faltered, and Olvir could feel the wild throbbing of her heart. Though she made no complaint, he saw that the strain was more than she could bear. His despairing gaze glanced from the oak-tops to the lowering sky.

"Not that! not that!" he muttered. "Already the storm is upon us. She would perish of cold on the shelterless boughs before Floki comes. By Thor, we hold our own with the wood-fiends! Could we keep to the pace a little longer-- Yet I cannot bear her up alone!"

"Ah, Olvir!" gasped Rothada, "my strength fails; I can go no farther.

Loose me; loose me, and save the others, dearest! I but drag you back--to death!"

Olvir gazed down upon the girl, his dark eyes misty with infinite love and tenderness; and with the soul-calm came sudden clearness. A flush rose in his pale cheeks, and his eyes flashed with hopeful fire.

"Liutrad! Gerold!" he shouted; "the princess faints! Skate abreast, that you may bear her up between you. Soon you may ease your stroke. I go to play with the dogs of Odin."

"G.o.d forbid!" cried Liutrad. "Let me be the one to stay them."

"And gorge their jaws! No, lad; you own the greater strength; I the greater fleetness. Each to his part!"

"Let Pepin come beside me," said Hildegarde. "He can hold to my hand."

"I 'll drag little, dear mother," replied the boy. "I 'm still strong."

"And I, mother," echoed Karl, with boyish pride.

"You 're brave lads, both," answered Gerold. "Slacken more, Liutrad.

Now, Pepin, cross over to your mother--so; well done! We 're ready, Olvir."

"None too soon!" rejoined Olvir, and he fell back until Liutrad caught the fainting maiden from his grasp.

Borne up between the two young warriors, Rothada had now only to lean her weight upon their strong arms, and glide onwards, swept along by their powerful strokes. The pace was still swift enough to hold the hundred strokes gained over the horde at the first. Olvir was quick to heed the fact, and his face shone as he circled about the others for a farewell view.

"All's well!" he called cheerily. "Hold on only a little longer, and you may ease the pace."

Still smiling, he plucked an arrow from his quiver, and swept around on his daring mission. In another moment he was skimming at arrowy speed straight into the face of the pack, his gold-red hair streaming, his face bright and eager with the joy of battle.

Once and again the war-bow tw.a.n.ged, and two of the grey leaders sprang high in the death-leap. But, heedless of their dead, the pack swept on over the writhing bodies to meet the slayer. Already the rash skater was upon them. Another instant, and he would be struggling in their midst. But even as the lolling tongues drew in for the leap-bite, and the fiery eyes gleamed red with baleful joy, the mad quarry wheeled like a striking hawk, and shot away to the right from under their very jaws.

In their eagerness, many of the foremost wolves leaped at the Northman; but their jaws clashed together through empty air, and they fell sprawling upon the ice, to be overrun by their fellows.

Wild with baffled fury, the whole pack swerved to follow the fleeing quarry as he swept slantingly across the broad expanse of the river.

Olvir could have asked no more. Skimming along just beyond reach of the foam-dripping jaws, he gazed back at his ferocious pursuers with a mocking smile.

"Follow! follow me, dogs of Odin!" he jeered. "I 'll lead you a merry dance; to and fro,--a game of ice-tag. So; we near the bank. Now across to the other side; and as we go, I 'll play on my one-stringed harp.

You shall have music to your singing!"

Circling on the very edge of the ice-rim, Olvir swept obliquely back across the river. But as he turned, his smile gave way to sudden grimness, and he raised his hand to his quiver. Then the war-bow began to tw.a.n.g its answer to the yelling beasts, and arrow after arrow drove into their midst with vengeful force. Hardly a shaft flew wide of its mark; yet they followed so swiftly one upon the other that the quiver was emptied and the last shaft whirring from the string before the flying bowman had crossed the channel.

"Thor!" he shouted in fierce joy. "We 've played a merry game, white-fangs; now for a merrier!"

Deftly the bow was unstrung and slipped into its case, and then the bared blade of Al-hatif glittered in the sea-king's upraised hand. But as he swerved out again from the alder thickets, he first glanced up the river after his fleeing companions. Briefly as the terrible play had lasted, the others had already gained many more yards over the horde.

While their peril, however, was lessening, his had suddenly doubled.

Not all the wolves had followed him in his second turn across the river.

A hundred or more, running straight onward, had put themselves in advance of the doubling quarry. The foremost were already circling around to hedge him in.

It was no time to falter. Putting out the very utmost of his skill and strength, Olvir dashed toward the fast-closing line at a speed that dropped the following wolves to the rear as though they had been at a stand.

"Ho, dogs!" he shouted. "Skate to paw; sword to fang! I come; I come to your blood-game!"

An outburst of ferocious yells answered the boastful shout, and from right and left the beasts sprang in to meet him. But again Olvir wheeled with hawk-like quickness. Two strokes, and he was before a gap in the line guarded by a single grey leader. Once again he wheeled, to dart through the gap. Swiftly as he came, the old wolf saw his purpose, and crouched low. But, even as the beast leaped, Olvir swerved and shot safely past him; and, in the pa.s.sing, Al-hatif whistled in a slas.h.i.+ng upstroke. Greyleg fell upon the ice, never to leap again.

With a wild shout, Olvir dashed out from the death-trap, and, undaunted by his close escape, turned for a third race across the river. But as he wheeled, a great gust of wind came roaring through the oaks, and the air suddenly grew thick with driven snow. Instantly Olvir sheathed his reddened blade, and, with his shoulder to the quartering gale, drove straight up the river at a speed which Floki himself might not have equalled.

Soon the baffled pursuers fell to the rear. Their yells died away in the roaring of the storm, and the snow swept between in a swirling, blinding mist. But if the white storm-veil hid the Northman from his pursuers, it blotted out no less completely all view of his companions.

For a while he kept on at racing speed, until he thought he should be upon them. Then he slackened his stroke, and shouted into the white gloom. No answer came back but the loud complaint of the straining oaks and the shriek and roar of the blast through the las.h.i.+ng boughs.

Again Olvir shouted, his face dark with sudden misgiving; still no answer. With a bitter cry, he wheeled to circle about in the dense whirl. But then the air quivered with the blast of a hunting-horn, so clear and loud that it might have been blown within arm's length.

"None bore horns! It must be Floki!" he cried, and he drove straight into the teeth of the gale. The fierce-driving snow blinded him; but he kept on, groping with outstretched hands. Suddenly a white figure swept past before him, so near that he could almost touch it. He wheeled to follow, and at once saw that it was linked in line with other figures.

His heart leaped with thanksgiving. Here were all six,--maid and dame, bairns and warriors,--all safe; ay, and with one added to their number!

Not even Liutrad was so big and strong as the skater who drove along at the far end of their line, his ma.s.sive shoulder braced against the wind.