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"Frode was a mighty raven-feeder; for his sake I am going to support you until you can go well on your legs. Have you had anything to eat?" As she shook her head, Randalin's heart rather softened toward him. But it hardened again when the thralls had brought the food, and he had sat down and begun to share it.
"It is good news, great news since the whole mob has thought it safe to bring it. Hark! Can you hear what it is that they add after the King's name?" Listening, everyone stood motionless as the babel came nearer with a swiftness which spoke much for the speed of the shouters. Only Randalin's little red shoe began to tap the earth impatiently. What did it matter what they said?
Yonder comes Wikel making strange signs to you." All heads but Randalin's turned in the direction he was looking. She was still too lethargic for curiosity; and she found a kind of dreamy content in lying with her eyes upon the Etheling's handsome face.
Have I not seen their horrid wickedness? You think a nun a coward? Know you how these scars came on my face? Three times, with my own hands, I pressed a red-hot iron there to destroy the beauty that allured, else had the Pagans dragged me with them. Was I a coward?" Randalin's eyes were very wide. "It seems to me that you were simple-minded," she breathed.
When they caught sight of a sprig of a boy drawn up beside the way with his hand resting sternly on his knife, they sent up a shout of boisterous merriment. The blood roared so loudly in Randalin's ears that she could not understand what they said. She jerked her horse's head toward the trees and drove her spur deep into his side.
Randalin's arm was an iron barrier behind her. "Now I do not know where you think the power to do that will come from!" she hissed in her ear. "Do you not see that if you go back to your grooms and let them know that you have not got enough honor with the King to gain an entrance, they will never dare do your bidding again?
Randalin's gaze lingered, dazzled, then slowly rose to examine the master of all this wealth. He was not so easy to pick out. Of the three men around the table, only one was a graybeard; and of the two striplings left, either might have been the son of Sven of Denmark.
"The ring, Tata, that would be the cream of all! Let him think that Rothgar gave it to you, that he is your lover! I would give many kirtles to see his face." "Rothgar?" Randalin's voice was light with scorn. "As likely would! be to think him love-struck for the serving-wench who sparkled her eyes at him, as he to think that Rothgar Lodbroksson could count for aught with me!
Under the soothing hand, Randalin's sobs slowly ceased; when at last she raised her wet eyes there was no longer rebellion in them but only youth's measureless despair. "Sister, now as always, I want to do what you would have me but I am so full of grief! Must I go back to Avalcomb and begin all over again?
Though she shook her head, Randalin's manner was full of suppressed excitement as she advanced. "Not of her, lady, yet tidings, great tidings! The King has sent " "His Marshal again? I will not see him." "Nay, the Marshal but accompanies the messenger. In truth, lady, it is my belief that the token has accomplished its mission.
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