The Wanderer's Necklace Read online

  Produced by John Bickers; Dagny

  THE WANDERER'S NECKLACE

  by H. Rider Haggard

  First Published 1914.

  DEDICATION

  In memory of Oodnadatta and many wanderings oversea I offer thesepictures from the past, my dear Vincent, to you, a lover of the presentif an aspirant who can look upon the future with more of hope than fear.Your colleague,

  H. Rider Haggard. To Sir Edgar Vincent, K.C.M.G.

  Ditchingham,

  November, 1913.

  NOTE BY THE EDITOR

  It chances that I, the Editor of these pages--for, in truth, that ismy humble function--have recovered a considerable knowledge of a bygonelife of mine. This life ended in times that are comparatively recent,namely, early in the ninth century, as is fixed by the fact that theByzantine Empress, Irene, plays a part in the story.

  The narrative, it will be observed, is not absolutely consecutive; thatis to say, all the details are not filled in. Indeed, it has returned tome in a series of scenes or pictures, and although each scene or picturehas to do with every other, there are sometimes gaps between them. Totake one example among several--the journey of Olaf (in those daysmy name was Olaf, or Michael after I was baptised) from the North toConstantinople is not recorded. The curtain drops at Aar in Jutlandand rises again in Byzantium. Only those events which were of the mostimportance seem to have burned themselves into my subconscious memory;many minor details have vanished, or, at least, I cannot find them.This, however, does not appear to me to be a matter for regret. If everyepisode of a full and eventful life were painted in, the canvas would beoverloaded and the eye that studied it bewildered.

  I do not think that I have anything more to say. My tale must speakfor itself. So I will but add that I hold it unnecessary to set out theexact method by which I have been able to dig it and others from thequarry of my past. It is a gift which, although small at first, I havebeen able gradually to develop. Therefore, as I wish to hide my presentidentity, I will only sign myself

  The Editor.

  THE WANDERER'S NECKLACE

  BOOK I

  AAR

  CHAPTER I

  THE BETROTHAL OF OLAF

  Of my childhood in this Olaf life I can regain but little. There come tome, however, recollections of a house, surrounded by a moat, situated ina great plain near to seas or inland lakes, on which plain stood moundsthat I connected with the dead. What the dead were I did not quiteunderstand, but I gathered that they were people who, having once walkedabout and been awake, now laid themselves down in a bed of earth andslept. I remember looking at a big mound which was said to cover a chiefknown as "The Wanderer," whom Freydisa, the wise woman, my nurse, toldme had lived hundreds or thousands of years before, and thinking that somuch earth over him must make him very hot at nights.

  I remember also that the hall called Aar was a long house roofed withsods, on which grew grass and sometimes little white flowers, and thatinside of it cows were tied up. We lived in a place beyond, that wasseparated off from the cows by balks of rough timber. I used to watchthem being milked through a crack between two of the balks where aknot had fallen out, leaving a convenient eyehole about the height of awalking-stick from the floor.

  One day my elder and only brother, Ragnar, who had very red hair, cameand pulled me away from this eyehole because he wanted to look throughit himself at a cow that always kicked the girl who milked it. I howled,and Steinar, my foster-brother, who had light-coloured hair and blueeyes, and was much bigger and stronger than I, came to my help, becausewe always loved each other. He fought Ragnar and made his nose bleed,after which my mother, the Lady Thora, who was very beautiful, boxedhis ears. Then we all cried, and my father, Thorvald, a tall man, ratherloosely made, who had come in from hunting, for he carried the skin ofsome animal of which the blood had run down on to his leggings, scoldedus and told my mother to keep us quiet as he was tired and wanted toeat.

  That is the only scene which returns to me of my infancy.

  The next of which a vision has come to me is one of a somewhat similarhouse to our own in Aar, upon an island called Lesso, where we were allvisiting a chief of the name of Athalbrand. He was a fierce-lookingman with a great forked beard, from which he was called AthalbrandFork-beard. One of his nostrils was larger than the other, and he had adroop in his left eye, both of which peculiarities came to him from somewound or wounds that he had received in war. In those days everybody wasat war with everybody else, and it was quite uncommon for anyone to liveuntil his hair turned grey.

  The reason of our visit to this chief Athalbrand was that my elderbrother, Ragnar, might be betrothed to his only surviving child, Iduna,all of whose brothers had been killed in some battle. I can see Idunanow as she was when she first appeared before us. We were sitting attable, and she entered through a door at the top of the hall. Shewas clothed in a blue robe, her long fair hair, whereof she had anabundance, was arranged in two plaits which hung almost to her knees,and about her neck and arms were massive gold rings that tinkled as shewalked. She had a round face, coloured like a wild rose, and innocentblue eyes that took in everything, although she always seemed to lookin front of her and see nothing. Her lips were very red and appeared tosmile. Altogether I thought her the loveliest creature that ever I hadlooked on, and she walked like a deer and held her head proudly.

  Still, she did not please Ragnar, who whispered to me that she was slyand would bring mischief on all that had to do with her. I, who at thetime was about twenty-one years of age, wondered if he had gone mad totalk thus of this beautiful creature. Then I remembered that just beforewe had left home I had caught Ragnar kissing the daughter of one of ourthralls behind the shed in which the calves were kept. She was a browngirl, very well made, as her rough robe, fastened beneath her breastwith a strap, showed plainly, and she had big dark eyes with a sleepylook in them. Also, I never saw anyone kiss quite so hard as she did;Ragnar himself was outpassed. I think that is why even the great lady,Iduna the Fair, did not please him. All the while he was thinking of thebrown-eyed girl in the russet robe. Still, it is true that, brown-eyedgirl or no, he read Iduna aright.

  Moreover, if Ragnar did not like Iduna, from the first Iduna hatedRagnar. So it came about that, although both my father, Thorvald, andIduna's father, Athalbrand, stormed and threatened, these two declaredthat they would have nothing to do with each other, and the project oftheir marriage came to an end.

  On the night before we were to leave Lesso, whence Ragnar had alreadygone, Athalbrand saw me staring at Iduna. This, indeed, was notwonderful, as I could not take my eyes from her lovely face, and whenshe looked at me and smiled with those red lips of hers I became like asilly bird that is bewitched by a snake. At first I thought that he wasgoing to be angry, but suddenly some idea seemed to strike him so thathe called my father, Thorvald, outside the house. Afterwards I was sentfor, and found the two of them seated on a three-cornered, flat stone,talking in the moonlight, for it was summer-time, when everything looksblue at night and the sun and the moon ride in the sky together. Near bystood my mother, listening.

  "Olaf," said my father, "would you like to marry Iduna the Fair?"

  "Like to marry Iduna?" I gasped. "Aye, more than to be High King ofDenmark, for she is no woman, but a goddess."

  At this saying my mother laughed, and Athalbrand, who knew Iduna whenshe did not seem a goddess, called me a fool. Then they talked, while Istood trembling with hope and fear.

  "He's but a second son," said Athalbrand.

  "I have told you there is land enough for both of them, also thegold that came with his mother will be his, and that's no small sum,"answered Thorvald.

  "He's no warrior, but a skald," objected Athalbrand again; "a
sillyhalf-man who makes songs and plays upon the harp."

  "Songs are sometimes stronger than swords," replied my father, "and,after all, it is wisdom that rules. One brain can govern many men; also,harps make merry music at a feast. Moreover, Olaf is brave enough. Howcan he be otherwise coming of the stock he does?"

  "He is thin and weedy," objected Athalbrand, a saying that made mymother angry.

  "Nay, lord Athalbrand," she said; "he is tall and straight as a dart,and will yet be the handsomest man in these parts."

  "Every duck thinks it has hatched out a swan," grumbled Athalbrand,while with my eyes I implored my mother to be silent.

  Then he thought for awhile, pulling at his long forked beard, and saidat last:

  "My heart tells me no good of such a marriage. Iduna, who is the onlyone left to me, could marry a man of more wealth and power than thisrune-making stripling is ever likely to be. Yet just now I know nonesuch whom I would wish to hold my place when I am gone. Moreover, it isspread far and wide throughout the land that my daughter is to be wed toThorvald's son, and it matters little to which son. At least, I will nothave it said that she has been given the go-by. Therefore, let this Olaftake her, if she will have him. Only," he added with a growl, "let himplay no tricks like that red-headed cub, his brother Ragnar, if he wouldnot taste of a spear through his liver. Now I go to learn Iduna's mind."

  So he went; as did my father and mother, leaving me alone, thinking andthanking the gods for the chance that had come my way--yes, and blessingRagnar and that brown-eyed wench who had thrown her spell over him.

  Whilst I stood thus I heard a sound, and, turning, saw Iduna glidingtowards me in the blue twilight, looking more lovely than a dream. At myside she stopped and said:

  "My father tells me you wish to speak with me," and she laughed a littlesoftly and held me with her beautiful eyes.

  After that I know not what happened till I saw Iduna bending towardsme like a willow in the wind, and then--oh, joy of joys!--felt her kissupon my lips. Now my speech was unsealed, and I told her the tale thatlovers have always told. How that I was ready to die for her (to whichshe answered that she had rather that I lived, since ghosts were no goodhusbands); how that I was not worthy of her (to which she answered thatI was young, with all my time before me, and might live to be greaterthan I thought, as she believed I should); and so forth.

  Only one more thing comes back to me of that blissful hour. Foolishly Isaid what I had been thinking, namely, that I blessed Ragnar. At thesewords, of a sudden Iduna's face grew stern and the lovelight in her eyeswas changed to such as gleams from swords.

  "I do not bless Ragnar," she answered. "I hope one day to seeRagnar----" and she checked herself, adding: "Come, let us enter, Olaf.I hear my father calling me to mix his sleeping-cup."

  So we went into the house hand in hand, and when they saw us comingthus, all gathered there burst into shouts of laughter after their rudefashion. Moreover, beakers were thrust into our hands, and we were madeto drink from them and swear some oath. Thus ended our betrothal.

  I think it was on the next day that we sailed for home in my father'slargest ship of war, which was named the _Swan_. I went unwillinglyenough, who desired to drink more of the delight of Iduna's eyes. Still,go I must, since Athalbrand would have it so. The marriage, he said,should take place at Aar at the time of the Spring feast, and notbefore. Meanwhile he held it best we should be apart that we might learnwhether we still clung to each other in absence.

  These were the reasons he gave, but I think that he was already somewhatsorry for what he had done, and reflected that between harvest andspringtime he might find another husband for Iduna, who was more tohis mind. For Athalbrand, as I learned afterwards, was a scheming and afalse-hearted man. Moreover, he was of no high lineage, but one who hadraised himself up by war and plunder, and therefore his blood did notcompel him to honour.