Andrew Lang_Fairy Book 09 (13 page)

In the confusion that followed it was easy for Rosald to slip
away and return Geirald his proper clothes. And in these, torn
and dusty with the fight, Geirald answered the king's summons to
come before him.

'You have done what I expected you to do,' said he, 'and now,
choose your reward.'

'Grant me, sire, the hand of the queen, your niece,' replied the
young man, bowing low, 'and I will defend her kingdom against all
her enemies.'

'She could choose no better husband,' said the king, 'and if she
consents I do.' And he turned towards the queen, who had not
been present during the fight, but had just slipped into a seat
by his right hand. Now the queen's eyes were very sharp, and it
seemed to her that the man who stood before her, tall and
handsome though he might be, was different in many slight ways,
and in one in particular, from the man who had fought the
tourney. How there could be any trickery she could not
understand, and why the real victor should be willing to give up
his prize to another was still stranger; but something in her
heart warned her to be careful. She answered: 'You may be
satisfied, uncle, but I am not. One more proof I must have; let
the two young men now fight against each other. The man I marry
must be the man who killed the robbers and the giant, and
overcame my page.' Geirald's face grew pale as he heard these
words. He knew there was no escape from him now, though he did
not doubt for one moment that Rosald would keep his compact
loyally to the last. But how would it be possible that even
Rosald should deceive the watchful eyes of the king and his
court, and still more those of the young queen whom he felt
uneasily had suspected him from the first?

The tourney was fought, and in spite of Geirald's fears Rosald
managed to hang back to make attacks which were never meant to
succeed, and to allow strokes which he could easily have parried
to attain their end. At length, after a great show of
resistance, he fell heavily to the ground. And as he fell he
knew that it was not alone the glory that was his rightfully
which he gave up, but the hand of the queen that was more
precious still.

But Geirald did not even wait to see if he was wounded; he went
straight to the wall where the royal banner waved and claimed the
reward which was now his.

The crowd of watchers turned towards the queen, expecting to see
her stoop and give some token to the victor. Instead, to the
surprise of everyone, she merely smiled gracefully, and said that
before she bestowed her hand one more test must be imposed, but
this should be the last. The final tourney should be fought;
Geirald and Rosald should meet singly two knights of the king's
court, and he who could unhorse his foe should be master of
herself and of her kingdom. The combat was fixed to take place
at ten o'clock the following day.

All night long Geirald walked about his room, not daring to face
the fight that lay in front of him, and trying with all his might
to discover some means of escaping it. All night long he moved
restlessly from door to window; and when the trumpets sounded,
and the combatants rode into the field, he alone was missing.
The king sent messengers to see what had become of him, and he
was found, trembling with fear, hiding under his bed. After that
there was no need of any further proof. The combat was declared
unnecessary, and the queen pronounced herself quite satisfied,
and ready to accept Rosald as her husband.

'You forgot one thing,' she said, when they were alone. 'I
recognized my father's ring which Hankur the Tall had stolen, on
the finger of your right hand, and I knew that it was you and not
Geirald who had slain the robber band. I was the page who fought
you, and again I saw the ring on your finger, though it was
absent from his when he stood before me to claim the prize. That
was why I ordered the combat between you, though your faith to
your word prevented my plan being successful, and I had to try
another. The man who keeps his promise at all costs to himself
is the man I can trust, both for myself and for my people.'

So they were married, and returned to their own kingdom, which
they ruled well and happily. And many years after a poor beggar
knocked at the palace gates and asked for money, for the sake of
days gone by—and this was Geirald.

(From Neuislandischem Volksmarcher.)

Once upon a time there lived two peasants who had three
daughters, and, as generally happens, the youngest was the most
beautiful and the best tempered, and when her sisters wanted to
go out she was always ready to stay at home and do their work.

Years passed quickly with the whole family, and one day the
parents suddenly perceived that all three girls were grown up,
and that very soon they would be thinking of marriage.

'Have you decided what your husband's name is to be?' said the
father, laughingly, to his eldest daughter, one evening when they
were all sitting at the door of their cottage. 'You know that is
a very important point!'

'Yes; I will never wed any man who is not called Sigmund,'
answered she.

'Well, it is lucky for you that there are a great many Sigmunds
in this part of the world,' replied her father, 'so that you can
take your choice! And what do YOU say?' he added, turning to the
second.

'Oh, I think that there is no name so beautiful as Sigurd,' cried
she.

'Then you won't be an old maid either,' answered he. 'There are
seven Sigurds in the next village alone! And you, Helga?'

Helga, who was still the prettiest of the three, looked up. She
also had her favourite name, but, just as she was going to say
it, she seemed to hear a voice whisper: 'Marry no one who is not
called Habogi.'

The girl had never heard of such a name, and did not like it, so
she determined to pay no attention; but as she opened her mouth
to tell her father that her husband must be called Njal, she
found herself answering instead: 'If I do marry it will be to no
one except Habogi.'

'Who IS Habogi?' asked her father and sisters; 'We never heard of
such a person.'

'All I can tell you is that he will be my husband, if ever I have
one,' returned Helga; and that was all she would say.

Before very long the young men who lived in the neighbouring
villages or on the sides of the mountains, had heard of this talk
of the three girls, and Sigmunds and Sigurds in scores came to
visit the little cottage. There were other young men too, who
bore different names, though not one of them was called 'Habogi,'
and these thought that they might perhaps gain the heart of the
youngest. But though there was more than one 'Njal' amongst
them, Helga's eyes seemed always turned another way.

At length the two elder sisters made their choice from out of the
Sigurds and the Sigmunds, and it was decided that both weddings
should take place at the same time. Invitations were sent out to
the friends and relations, and when, on the morning of the great
day, they were all assembled, a rough, coarse old peasant left
the crowd and came up to the brides' father.

'My name is Habogi, and Helga must be my wife,' was all he said.
And though Helga stood pale and trembling with surprise, she did
not try to run away.

'I cannot talk of such things just now,' answered the father, who
could not bear the thought of giving his favourite daughter to
this horrible old man, and hoped, by putting it off, that
something might happen. But the sisters, who had always been
rather jealous of Helga, were secretly pleased that their
bridegrooms should outshine hers.

When the feast was over, Habogi led up a beautiful horse from a
field where he had left it to graze, and bade Helga jump up on
its splendid saddle, all embroidered in scarlet and gold. 'You
shall come back again,' said he; 'but now you must see the house
that you are to live in.' And though Helga was very unwilling to
go, something inside her forced her to obey.

The old man settled her comfortably, then sprang up in front of
her as easily as if he had been a boy, and, shaking the reins,
they were soon out of sight.

After some miles they rode through a meadow with grass so green
that Helga's eyes felt quite dazzled; and feeding on the grass
were a quantity of large fat sheep, with the curliest and whitest
wool in the world.

'What lovely sheep! whose are they?' cried Helga.

'Your Habogi's,' answered he, 'all that you see belongs to him;
but the finest sheep in the whole herd, which has little golden
bells hanging between its horns, you shall have for yourself.'

This pleased Helga very much, for she had never had anything of
her own; and she smiled quite happily as she thanked Habogi for
his present.

They soon left the sheep behind them, and entered a large field
with a river running through it, where a number of beautiful grey
cows were standing by a gate waiting for a milk-maid to come and
milk them.

'Oh, what lovely cows!' cried Helga again; 'I am sure their milk
must be sweeter than any other cows. How I should like to have
some! I wonder to whom they belong?'

'To your Habogi,' replied he; 'and some day you shall have as
much milk as you like, but we cannot stop now. Do you see that
big grey one, with the silver bells between her horns? That is
to be yours, and you can have her milked every morning the moment
you wake.'

And Helga's eyes shone, and though she did not say anything, she
thought that she would learn to milk the cow herself.

A mile further on they came to a wide common, with short, springy
turf, where horses of all colours, with skins of satin, were
kicking up their heels in play. The sight of them so delighted
Helga that she nearly sprang from her saddle with a shriek of
joy.

'Whose are they?' Oh! whose are they?' she asked. 'How happy any
man must be who is the master of such lovely creatures!'

'They are your Habogi's,' replied he, 'and the one which you
think the most beautiful of all you shall have for yourself, and
learn to ride him.'

At this Helga quite forgot the sheep and the cow.

'A horse of my own!' said she. 'Oh, stop one moment, and let me
see which I will choose. The white one? No. The chestnut? No.
I think, after all, I like the coal-black one best, with the
little white star on his forehead. Oh, do stop, just for a
minute.'

But Habogi would not stop or listen. 'When you are married you
will have plenty of time to choose one,' was all he answered, and
they rode on two or three miles further.

At length Habogi drew rein before a small house, very ugly and
mean-looking, and that seemed on the point of tumbling to pieces.

'This is my house, and is to be yours,' said Habogi, as he jumped
down and held out his arms to lift Helga from the horse. The
girl's heart sank a little, as she thought that the man who
possessed such wonderful sheep, and cows, and horses, might have
built himself a prettier place to live in; but she did not say
so. And, taking her arm, he led her up the steps.

But when she got inside, she stood quite bewildered at the beauty
of all around her. None of her friends owned such things, not
even the miller, who was the richest man she knew. There were
carpets everywhere, thick and soft, and of deep rich colours; and
the cushions were of silk, and made you sleepy even to look at
them; and curious little figures in china were scattered about.
Helga felt as if it would take her all her life to see everything
properly, and it only seemed a second since she had entered the
house, when Habogi came up to her.

'I must begin the preparations for our wedding at once,' he said;
'but my foster-brother will take you home, as I promised. In
three days he will bring you back here, with your parents and
sisters, and any guests you may invite, in your company. By that
time the feast will be ready.'

Helga had so much to think about, that the ride home appeared
very short. Her father and mother were delighted to see her, as
they did not feel sure that so ugly and cross-looking a man as
Habogi might not have played her some cruel trick. And after
they had given her some supper they begged her to tell them all
she had done. But Helga only told them that they should see for
themselves on the third day, when they would come to her wedding.

It was very early in the morning when the party set out, and
Helga's two sisters grew green with envy as they passed the
flocks of sheep, and cows, and horses, and heard that the best of
each was given to Helga herself; but when they caught sight of
the poor little house which was to be her home their hearts grew
light again.

'I should be ashamed of living in such a place,' whispered each
to the other; and the eldest sister spoke of the carved stone
over HER doorway, and the second boasted of the number of rooms
SHE had. But the moment they went inside they were struck dumb
with rage at the splendour of everything, and their faces grew
white and cold with fury when they saw the dress which Habogi had
prepared for his bride—a dress that glittered like sunbeams
dancing upon ice.

'She SHALL not look so much finer than us,' they cried
passionately to each other as soon as they were alone; and when
night came they stole out of their rooms, and taking out the
wedding-dress, they laid it in the ash-pit, and heaped ashes upon
it. But Habogi, who knew a little magic, and had guessed what
they would do, changed the ashes into roses, and cast a spell
over the sisters, so that they could not leave the spot for a
whole day, and every one who passed by mocked at them.

The next morning when they all awoke the ugly tumble-down house
had disappeared, and in its place stood a splendid palace. The
guests' eyes sought in vain for the bridegroom, but could only
see a handsome young man, with a coat of blue velvet and silver
and a gold crown upon his head.