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She realized that only a manner of perfect unconcern could carry her through, yet she felt herself shaking with excitement. Rothgar sat up on the great skin with a gesture of some cordiality. "Hail to you, Fridtjof Frodesson!" he said. "Your escape is a thing that gladdens me. I did not like the thought of starving you, and I hope your father will overlook the unfriendliness of it."
He made a swift gesture of throwing aside all reserve. "Enough of mystery, Danishman! If the message which I have received was not sent by Fridtjof Frodesson, it was sent by you. Be honest enough to admit it and say plainly what your intention is toward me." "Fridtjof Frodesson," the Jotun mocked, and his fiery eyes probed the Englishman like knives.
The King's ward made no other answer than to regard him with a strange mixture of attention and aversion; but the Etheling reached out and pushed the boy farther behind the great chair. "Fridtjof Frodesson is my captive and no longer concerns you," he said briefly. "Give him no further thought, but come to your message."
Certainly I came here with no thought of evil toward you, but neither had I any thought soever of the Lady Randalin, of whose existence I was ignorant. I answered the call of Fridtjof Frodesson, to whom I owe and I pay all the service which lies in my power, as it is likely you know." Did his voice soften as he recalled his debt?
Because his womanish face has caught your fancy, you will neither blame him yourself nor allow others to make a fuss " "That is where you are wrong," the King interrupted, with as much gravity as he could command. "When Fridtjof Frodesson comes again into your presence, I give you leave to take whatever revenge you like.
Would she be able to tell a straight story? She stood with fingers interlacing nervously. "Tell me first how you are called?" "I am called Fridtjof Frodesson." "Frode of Avalcomb! Now I know where I have heard that name; my father spoke it often, and always with great respect. It will go hard with me if I must return an unfavorable answer to his son. Tell me how his death was brought about."
Slowly the man's wandering gaze focussed itself; a silly laugh welled up in his throat. "It would be no strange wonder if I did not," he chuckled. "Odin has changed you greatly; your face was never so beautiful. But this once you cannot trick me, Fridtjof Frodesson." There came a time when this mistake was a source of some comfort to Randalin, Frode's daughter; but now she stirred impatiently.
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