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"What makes it a great mishap is that your presence doubles Alwin's risk, and because one can never be altogether sure to what lengths Eric's son will go, even with one whom he loves as well as he loves you. If I could find some good way in which to break the news to him before he sees you, " Helga sprang out of her niche, and stood, straight and rigid, before them.
He threw himself down on the rock at her feet, unaware that her smooth brows had suddenly drawn themselves into a troubled frown. She said with grave slowness, "I do not like to hear you speak like that. You are foremost among men in courage, yet to hear you now, one would almost imagine you to be faint-hearted." Alwin's mouth bent into a bitter smile, as his eyes stared away at the river.
The smouldering doubt he had felt burst into flame and burned through every fibre. Thorgrim's wink, his allusion to Alwin's swordsmanship, it had all been arranged between them; the velvet cloak was the clew! Rolf had wished to possess it. He had persuaded Thorgrim to stake it on his thrall's skill, then he had brought Alwin to win the wager for him.
Again it was a minstrel, with a harp at his back, who stopped to rest and exchange a song for a horn of mead. Once the Queen herself, riding in a shining gilded wagon, came in and bought some of the graceful spiral bracelets. She said that Alwin's eyes were as bright as a young serpent's; but she did not buy him.
"If now one could only hurl a spear at his heart!" murmured the sailor at Alwin's shoulder. But the difficulties of path-finding through an unbroken thicket had kept the men from cumbering themselves with weapons so unwieldy. Leif spoke up quickly, "There is no way but to trust to our knives. Since I am superior to any in strength, I will grapple with him first.
The bar across Alwin's cheek grew fiery with his redder flush. He stood before her, rigid and speechless. Helga too blushed deeply; but there was nothing of a girl's shyness about her. Her beautiful eyes looked frankly back into his.
"Do you go on without me," he said, drawing back. "I will follow in a moment." Sigurd threw him a keen glance. "Is it your intention to do anything exciting, like quarrelling with Thorhall as you did last night? Let me stay and share it." There was a little embarrassment in Alwin's laugh. "No such intention have I. I wish to see the hunters ride in."
Uncertainty was on Alwin's face, as he gazed down through the branches and saw the thrall's white tunic suddenly appear among the green bushes. He said slowly, "I do not dispute that it looks like the hand of fate and it is true that he is my enemy that it is his life or mine " A wild yell of alarm cut him short.
Suddenly his touch upon Alwin's arm became an iron grip, that dragged the Saxon to his feet. "Look!" the Wrestler gasped, as he pulled him behind the great oak in whose shelter they had been lying. "Look! Are those ghosts, or devils?" Half-dazed, Alwin could do no more than stare along the pointing finger.
No jester ever invented such a jest." He got on his feet and beckoned them with both arms, stamping with laughter. Catching sight of Alwin's white face at the door, for it was ashen white, he beckoned him also, with a fresh burst of malicious laughter. "And you, you little priest-robed puppet, come nearer, so you shall not lose a word. Oh, it will be great fun for you!
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