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It was a long time that the Lord of Ivarsdale stood there, the pride of his rank, and the prejudice of his blood, struggling with his new convictions, his new loyalty. But at last he took his eyes from the King's to bow before him in noble submission.
His glance, as it came back, took in his captive. "The first bar of your cage, my hawk. Yonder is the first boundary of Ivarsdale." Every man started up in his saddle, and the cheers they had held back upon leaving camp burst forth now with added zest. Peering over her captor's shoulder, Randalin looked forward anxiously.
The Lord of Ivarsdale is also English; a mishap might occur if " She flung the words at him; "I care not if it lose Canute his crown! If you will not risk it, I will tell him that the King settles to-night with Edric of Mercia and his men, and that it is to witness the punishment of my kinsmen's murderer that he has sent for me.
When the sound had faded quite away, the Lord of Ivarsdale breathed out the rest of his resentment in a hearty imprecation, and, turning, came on to his patient. His voice was as gentle as a woman's as he dropped on his knee beside the slim figure. "What is your need, little fire-eater?" A memory of her haunting terror stirred in the girl.
And after that they spoke only of the future, when the first period of his Marshalship should be over and he should be free to take his bride back to the fields and woods of Ivarsdale, and the gray old Tower on the hill. Moderately wise Should each one be, But never over-wise; For a wise man's heart Is seldom glad If he is all-wise who owns it. Ha'vama'l.
Under Guthrum, a weak-kneed son of his lost it to the English Alfred, and we fell out of our fortunes with the tipping of the scales, and Angles have sat since then in the seat of Lodbrok's sons. But now the scales have risen again. Under Canute, Ivarsdale, with all other English property, comes back to Danish hands.
A momentary cordiality came into the King's manner; as though recognizing it for the first time, he turned to the figure across the fire with a courteous gesture. "My lord of Ivarsdale! I am much beholden to you. Had any chance wrought evil to the Lord of Baddeby while under my safeguard, my honor would have been as deeply wounded as my feelings."
He made a quick step toward her, then paused as suddenly, his chin thrust out in listening. A gesture of his hand imposed a sudden silence, through which the sound became distinct to all ears, a trampling and crashing in the brush beyond the moonlit open. As they wheeled to face it, a shout came from that direction. "What ho! Does the Lord of Ivarsdale go there?"
But there was no tremor in his words. "We of Ivarsdale do not profess such obedience, King Edmund. That is for thanes and for the unfree, who owe their all to your generosity. Our land we hold as our fathers held it from God's bounty and the might of our swords. When we have paid the three taxes of fort-building and bridge-building and field-service, we have paid all that we owe to the State."
So they tussled, back and forth, this way and that, amid a merry tumult of barking and laughter, such a tumult that neither heard the steps that both were waiting for, when at last those steps came briskly through the archway. The first they knew of it, the Lord of Ivarsdale was standing under the lintel, chatting with those who came behind him.