"It may have a dream," said Harold, "but even so it is comforting to bear that Balder suffered naught at the bands of the raiders. He commanded us to flee so the Wolves would be saved from destruction. Though we have been happy here and are proud of our little town, we have not greatly increased since leaving Jutland. But tell me more of Lord Balder. If he was changed to an oak his wish to die fighting was unfulfilled."
The dark man put fingertip to fingertip and stared at the ground. "The dream was all confused," he said, "for none lived to tell what actually happened. One can but imagine the wrath of the thwarted Norsemen. There are no branches of the oak, old as it must be, lying on the ground, but near its base a large axe lies embedded. It must have been struck in a very long time ago, for the deep wound is healed and the huge blade nearly overgrown."
"With the help of time and tides the sands have almost completely buried the wrecks of many dragon ships, among which lie a large number of bleached bones. Near one crushed skull I found the Thor hammer, which I recognized at once, for it is the only one of its kind in all the world. So Lord Balder must have had his desire to kill at least one man, though how the others died or all the ships were wrecked in the harbor is a mystery none may solve. I brought the hammer with me, as it is a treasure. It is a weighty weapon which I could hardly lift, but here it is."
He handed it to Lord Harold, who examined it carefully.
"This must indeed be the hammer of Balder, for it is as the singer of songs tells of it. For many years our harpers have sung of this weapon. I will hang it over my fireplace, though I doubt if any Wolf, now or in times to come, will ever be able to use it in battle.
"When we left our old home my grandfather brought a long spear with him. One of our songs relates that it once belonged to a mighty giant killed by Balder when he won his bride. Now we have two weapons to help us remember our wonderful ancestor, the Thor hammer and the spear."
"Now for the real purpose of my visit," the little man continued; "I wish to talk with you about your son Edward. I have questioned many about him since coming to your country and all agree that he is a very unusual man; more interested in playing the harp than toying with a bride."
"That is true and causes me deep concern. In times past our men have taken their women with right hand or left; he uses both hands equally well but says he cannot find a woman to please him."
"So I've heard. Many told me of his swordplay with both hands. I have decided to help him. Summon him to us and we will determine what he thinks of my present and my advice."
Harold called for his son. "Edward," he said, "this man is very wise and is an old friend of our family. He brings you a present."
As they exchanged greetings the little dark man noted that Edward was not a tall man but broad of shoulders and stood firm and erect like all the Wolves. Unlike his father, who was blonde and blue-eyed, he was black-haired and brown of eye with swart skin, the heritage of his Pictish mother.
Then the little man handed Edward a sword, saying, "This sword was made in Gobi by a clever smith. When the blade was cherry-hot he tempered it by plunging it into dragon's blood. He graved on it a legend which you cannot read, but it says, 'I cut but never break'. The two handles are fashioned from the horns of unicorns. You probably know the old superstition, that if a virgin touches a unicorn she is safe from all men. It was an odd conceit to place such handles on such a blade."
Lord Harold said, "Give me the sword." He held it carefully and felt the cutting edges. "This is the most peculiar sword I ever saw. I admit the double edges are sharp; and it was well tempered by that smith in Gobi, which place I never heard of. Also this is the first time I ever talked to one who know of dragons and unicorns, but this is not strange, for the Wolves are not wanderers. What makes me marvel is that there is a handle at each end. I cannot see how a man could fight with such a weapon. Perhaps my son will be able to solve this mystery," and he passed the sword to his son.
The young man took the sword in both hands. Then, holding it with his right hand, he pulled a longhair from his dark locks and very gently brought it first against one blade and then the other. The cut hairs fell to the ground.
"It is a sharp sword," be said. "I thank the giver, though I am puzzled as to why he gave it to me or how he knew I am adept in use of both hands. In swordplay I could not use a shield, as I must hold the sword with both hands. My enemy would come at me with a down- striking blow while I would simply hold sword high in the air over my head. His sword would strike my weapon and be cut in two. At least it would if the words graved on it are true. He would then be at my mercy. That is the only way I know to use such an unusual sword in either play or combat."
"Your son has the right idea," the little man remarked to Lord Harold. "Now for the advice. He should journey directly east. At the beginning of the fifth day of his wandering he will find that which will both please and interest him. He will take with him no other weapon save the sword, no armor, and only sufficient food for the five days of going and the five days of returning."
"Who rules the Wolves, Edward?" asked Harold.
"You are their Lord, Sire."
"And when I command what do they do?"
"They obey."
"Then this is my command. Tomorrow leave home and in every way follow the advice of this rare friend. I trust you will return safely, for if evil befalls you then the ruling line of our family is broken, for you have neither wife nor son to carry on."
Edward took the sword and, bowing low, left the two men.
"Nothing will happen to him," said the little dark man. "I have always cared for the Wolves. In a manner of speaking they are my kinfolk, for Lord Balder married one of my daughters."
"How can that be?" asked the puzzled Lord. "He has been dead — or, as you said, changed to an oak tree — for many, many years."
"You may be right. Perhaps I only think so. Often I make statements because I think them true without being able to explain why. But I am confident your son will have a most unusual adventure and return safely. When he comes back, no matter what he says or does, think kindly of him, for everything a Wolf does is directed by the gods and they are wise. This best to obey them no matter where it leads. Perhaps I am a god. Who knows?" and he vanished, leaving Lord Harold more confused than ever.
For four days Edward traveled easteard and not once did he meet a man. On the morning of the fifth day he came to a meadow, the grass grown lush, surrounded by tall pines. Here sat a man in a golden chair, on the arm of which perched an eagle who, seeing Edward, flapped her wings and cried, "Hubelaire! Hubelaire! " or at least so it sounded to the young man. She tried to fly toward him but was prevented by a long gold chain which bound her to the chair.
The seated man looked keenly at Edward. Though he remained silent it seemed that he asked a question, which the young Wolf understood and answered.
"For four days I have walked through the dark forest, not knowing why or what I sought. But now I know. Give me the eagle!"
The man laughed. "You have the impudence and impetuosity of youth. For years I have sat in this chair brooding, while this bird has sat beside me saying only one word in an unknown tongue which I cannot understand, and thus it makes no sense whatever, but only interferes with my brooding. If you can excel me in sword-play you may have the eagle, but if I win the combat I will tie you to the other arm of the chair and, with you on one side and the eagle on the other, I will continue my brooding."