“Well, it is true,” said she at last, “that thou canst do somewhat if thou wilt.”
She fell silent again. Biorn said, to help her, “I can keep counsel.”
“Yes, that first,” she said. “Most of all, thou must not tell Styrbiorn. I think thou art his friend?” And she blushed red.
“Not friend only, but very foster-brother,” answered he.
“And thou must not let him know aught of this,” said Thyri, “not with word nor look.”
“I can keep counsel,” said Biorn. “And I will do your bidding.”
“This it is then,” said she: “you were best all get you out of the Dane-realm at your speediest.”
Biorn heard this with some wonder. “What good is there in that?” said he.
“Wilt thou do it?”
“I have promised you,” said Biorn. “But herein hath Styrbiorn the say, and not I.”
Thyri said, “Thou art his friend. Thou canst persuade him.”
“What reason must I give him?” said Biorn.
Thyri looked at him as if he should find a reason. When he did not, she said, “I have heard tell of folk, when they have had unwelcome guests, have given them such medicines as did soon make a hand of them.”
“That reason,” said he, smiling, “will not move Styrbiorn.”
She said, “Is he hard to move?”
Biorn said, “Hard indeed, if so be he will stand.”
Thyri played awhile with the tassel of her gown. She looked up at him, and then away. “I will speak plain to thee,” she said. “I’ll give thee reason, and thou hast promised me thou wilt not give it to Styrbiorn. The King my father thinketh there is somewhat between me and Styrbiorn. ’Tis foolish, but I have marked him, and I know. There’s danger in it. He would not have it so: he hath other plans: King Burisleif.”
She looked up swiftly at Biorn, her face dark with blushes. “What?” said he: “the Wend-king? Why, ’tis an old man.”
“Not old,” said Thyri.
“Enough to father you,” said Biorn.
“It is not this we are to talk on,” said Thyri. “The King my father loveth me. He loveth not you Jomsburgers.”
“Wherefore gave he then his son to Palnatoki to foster?” said Biorn.
“I tell thee he loveth them not,” said she. “We Danes love them not. Kings have reasons for doing this and that, or leaving undone. Thou must not ask me: I know nought, save that so it is: and I would have you all be gone lest some ill come of it.”
Biorn looked at her for a minute without speaking. Then he said, “You have honoured me to tell me much. Will you be angry with me if I say my mind?”
“No, that would not be fair,” said she softly.
“Then,” said Biorn, “be not too hasty. True is that, that ‘The seaward reefs are washed with the waves.’ Time is of our side.”
For a full minute’s space she abode silent, as if weighing his words and her thoughts. “No,” she said at length. “Remember, Biorn, thou hast promised me.”
Biorn saw well enough that there was no turning her from this. He said, “I will do my best. I will draw him away, if so it may be, whether to Skaney or to Fion or Jomsburg or otherwhere. For to Sweden until summer be come he is bound not to go; so we must tarry otherwhere an half year yet, till time is for him to go north to Sweden.”
At that word spoken Thyri blanched to the lips. Biorn thought she was on point to fall, and put out his hands to hold her. She reeled back and leant against the wall, and “North!” she said, “Is it North to Sweden? Let him not go. Not North. Not North, Biorn.” Biorn thought she was on a sudden out of her wits. She saw his thought on the face of him.
“I will tell thee,” she said. “I had forgot it clean all, as if it had not been. But thy saying of North woke it all back again, as if ’twere to dream it anew. It was a dream I dreamed last night. And methought I was in my father’s hall, and the lights burning, and you lords of Jomsburg here in great company. And methought Styrbiorn was waxen so huge of growth, the hand of him was like a platter, and the head of him smote the roof-beams. And methought he lifted up an horn full of mead and cried out with a great voice, crying and saying:
“ ‘North ’tis, and North ’tis, and ne’er may we linger!’
“Then methought he laid hold on the King my father with his great platter hand, and had him forth of the hall into the night, and it seemed rain and sleet; and every man that was there ran out, following Styrbiorn and obeying him, and they ran their ships down to the sea, and sailed North with a great wind. After that, it seemed to me in my dream that there were women riding in the sky betwixt lightning and lightning, helmed and byrnied, and terrible was the clang of their bowstrings. And I looked and it was as if the ground was thick with the dead bodies of men battle-slain, and ravens and wolves were gathered thither under the darkness to feast on the dead bodies. Then in my dream I began to look upon the faces of the slain. And I looked and saw him too, lying there slain. And then it was as if the night ebbed backward from me on every side, like the sucking backwash of the sea, and it was pitch dark, And I woke not, but must have fallen on deep sleep out of my dream, and so waking
