The Thirsty Sword: A Story of the Norse Invasion of Scotland (1262-1263)Leighton, Robert
History
The Thirsty Sword: A Story of the Norse Invasion of Scotland (1262-1263)
Leighton, Robert
Haakon IV Haakonsson, King of Norway, 1204-1263 -- Fiction; Scotland -- History -- 1057-1603 -- Fiction
"I will stay you!" cried Elspeth. "Your right arm shall wither, your
eyes shall grow blind, your life's blood shall turn to gall ere you
touch a hair of Earl Kenric's head! Return whence you came, bold outlaw.
Go, ere it be too late. Overmuch injury have you already done in this
land of your fathers. And do you hope to rule in Bute -- do you believe
that there is one man in all this land who would accept you as his lord
and master, and who would pay homage to you, after the ills you have
done? Vain fool! be satisfied. Turn back to your ships and ask of Heaven
the forgiveness which no man on earth will now accord you! Go, Roderic
MacAlpin!"
"Miserable hag!" cried Roderic grasping his sword. "And think you that I
would lead my brave men away ere they have had their full revenge upon
this stripling? No, no! Listen now, how they cry for his blood! Hear how
they cry out for the children whom you have spirited away! Elspeth
Blackfell, you know where those children are hidden, and by Saint Olaf
you shall now tell me where they are, or I will drive my blade into your
shrivelled carcase. Tell me, I say!"
"My lord Roderic," said Elspeth, looking at him with glittering eyes,
"you have lost your own two children. Do you still remember them? Do you
still remember their rosy cheeks, their sweet blue eyes, their golden
hair? Do you still hear the music of their laughter as they played among
the pebbles on the beach? Ah, it was a sad, sad day for you when they
were taken from you, my lord."
"A sad day indeed, Elspeth," echoed the sea rover, mechanically
sheathing his sword, and speaking in an altered voice that had a touch
of tenderness in it.
"And yet," added Elspeth, "there lives in Cowall one who might tell you
what became of your little ones."
"What? You tell me this! Who is that man?"
"On one condition shall you know," said Elspeth. "Take your men away
from Bute, and no more seek to learn whither our women and children are
gone."
"Agreed," said Roderic; "for, believe me, 'tis no wish of mine that the
people of my own lands should suffer. Tell me, who is this man?"
"When your followers are in their ships," said Elspeth, "when you are
taking up your anchors, then will I tell you, Lord Roderic. And if you
keep your word and leave us for a time in peace, most assuredly you
shall yet learn more."
Now Roderic, who was a man of iron, had yet one soft place in his heart,
and that was ever touched when he thought of his lost children.
Doubtless Elspeth knew all this, and whether it was true or false that
she could give him the word he wished, she at least succeeded in turning
him away from St. Blane's, and Kenric, half-wishing to take his sword
and slay him where he stood, peeped above the wall where he and his men
were intrenched and saw the pirate chief go up to his men and order them
to turn back to Rothesay.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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