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Updated: May 7, 2025
But he had one more evil thing in his mind that must be seen through; and he came forward, smoothing his face, as best he might, to the fixed smile that I had seen when he spoke with Ragnar, and learned that his first plot had miscarried. "Now, friends," he said, "all this has been so hasty that we have prepared no feast.
Now Ragnar unslung his round shield from his shoulders, and took his axe from me, for I had carried it for him, and his face was quiet and steady, as the face of one should be who has a deed to do that must be seen through to the end. But Griffin and his men talked quickly in their own tongue, and I had to tell them that we understood it well enough.
"Now is East Anglia mine in truth," he said; and with that he bade the housecarl fetch Curan, the cook's porter, to him. And then he sent one to Ragnar with such a message that he rode out that night and away to Norwich.
"I do not know; there is the parish tailor, who has already spoken to Magde about it " "The parish tailor! Aha!" "And Captain Larsson who owns a sloop, offered Ragnar two barrels of rye flour if he would speak a good word to me about him." "Two barrels of rye flour as a bribe! And your brother's reply?"
But I suppose that not one in all the gathering looked at what he wore; for as he passed up the long tables, it seemed that there was no man worth looking at but he, and even Ragnar seemed to be but a common man when one turned to him with eyes that had seen Havelok.
Ragnar, entering Denmark, captured Ubbe, had him brought before him, and pardoned him, preferring to visit his ill deserts with grace rather than chastisement; because the man seemed to have aimed at the crown rather at his wife's instance than of his own ambition, and to have been the imitator and not the cause of the wrong.
But on this day he saw little of all that he was accustomed to look upon; for on his knees there lay an ancient book with skilfully and richly painted characters, which a learned Icelander had just sent to him across the sea: it was the history of Aslauga, the fair daughter of Sigurd, who at first, concealing her high birth, kept goats among the simple peasants of the land, clothed in mean attire; then, in the golden veil of her flowing hair, won the love of King Ragnar Lodbrog; and at last shone brightly on the Danish throne as his glorious queen, till the day of her death.
Many warriors were thereto attracted by courage as much as by desire; but all idly and perilously wasted their pains. Ragnar, learning from men who travelled to and fro how the matter stood, asked his nurse for a woolen mantle, and for some thigh-pieces that were very hairy, with which he could repel the snake-bites.
He was now a champion in his own right, a hero of the heroes, one who might take rank, if he went on, beside Beowulf, Frotho, Ragnar Lodbrog, or Harald Hardraade. He had done this deed. What was there after this which he might not do?
I, who at the time was about twenty-one years of age, wondered if he had gone mad to talk thus of this beautiful creature. Then I remembered that just before we had left home I had caught Ragnar kissing the daughter of one of our thralls behind the shed in which the calves were kept.
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