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Then a voice called out that the thrall was lying to cover his master; and Eric's laughter burst out anew, and the jeering redoubled. But Alwin's voice rose high above it. "Fools! Is it worth while for me to give my life for a lie? Ask Sigurd Haraldsson, if you will not believe me. He knows that I went there on Yule Eve, to ask concerning my freedom.
If it were not for provoking Eric, you would not wait long to feel my blade." He turned and walked up the steps, with his hand on Alwin's shoulder. He utters too many Futile words Who is never silent; A garrulous tongue, If it be not checked, Sings often to its own harm. Ha'vama'l
"Why do you ask that which is useless?" "But you have just said that you liked me." "I do; but what does that matter, since I cannot marry you?" So light had the yoke of servitude grown on Alwin's shoulders that he had almost forgotten its existence. He opened his lips to ask, "Why?" Then it came back to him that he was a slave, a worthless, helpless dog of a slave.
It is not three hours since you vowed never to turn your back on a challenge while the red blood ran in your veins. Have witches sucked the blood out of you, that your mind is so different when you are put to the test?" At least enough blood was left to crimson Alwin's cheeks at this reminder. Those had been his very words, stung by Rolf's taunt.
Remembering his encounter with Egil the evening before, Alwin's eyes flared up hotly. But he would make no promises, as he arose to answer the summons. The little maid carried an anxious heart to her task of mending Helga's torn kirtle. No one seemed to notice the young thrall when he came among them and began to refill the empty cups.
After a while Sigurd said, still without looking around, "It seems to me that the right-minded thing for me in this matter is to do what I should desire you to do if you were in my place; therefore I offer you my friendship." Something blurred the bright river for an instant from Alwin's sight. "I give you thanks," he said huskily. "Save Editha, I have not a friend in the world."
A redoubling of his outcries caused a spasm of frantic writhing in Alwin's fettered body, but Rolf's manner was as serene as before. "See now what you are missing by your head-strongness," he reproved his captive. "It is seldom that men have the opportunity to sit, as we sit, and learn from the experience of another what would have been their fate had their fortune been equally bad.
The stillness at the bottom of the hollow was death-like; only the flickering light on the window spoke of life. Silently the door yielded to Alwin's touch. Darkness and a dying fire were all that met their eyes. They thought the room empty, and took a step forward. Instantly the space was alive with the green eyes of countless cats. The air was split with yowlings and spittings and hissing.
Forgetting that no weapon hung there now, Alwin's hand flew to his side. Young Haraldsson, catching only the gesture, stayed him peremptorily. "Stand back, they were aimed at me! It is my quarrel." He threw himself from his saddle, and his blade flashed forth like a sunbeam. Evidently there was no need of explanations between the two.
The grip was torture, a spur to a fainting horse. The blood surged into Alwin's eyes; his muscles stiffened into iron. Egil swayed, staggered, and fell headlong, crashing. Mad with pain, Alwin knelt on his heaving breast. "If I had a sword," he gasped; "if I had a sword!" Shaken and stunned, Egil still laughed scornfully. "What prevents you from getting your sword? I shall not run away.
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