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But the King's wife laughed her rippling laughter that had in it all the music of falling waters. "Shed no tears over that, ladybird! Would I be apt to let such an odious bear as Rothgar Lodbroksson rob me of my newest plaything? Whence to my dulness a pastime but for your help? Though he were the King's blood-brother, he should tell for naught.
"But by Saint Mary, he is of the sort that is worth enduring from!" He inclined his head in devoted attention as the King turned back, lowering his tone to exclude all but the man before him. "Even less than I believe it of Elfgiva of Northampton, do I believe it of Rothgar Lodbroksson, that he would seek my life.
"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!
As they drew nearer, the rattle of a sword also became audible. Lifting his eyebrows dubiously, the Etheling grasped his own weapon beneath his cloak. When the feet had brought their owner around the corner into sight, he did not feel that his motion had been a mistaken one, for the man who was advancing was Rothgar Lodbroksson.
"If Rothgar Lodbroksson thinks he should have indemnity because he was too stupid to see through a trick, let him have Avalcomb, when you get it back from the English, and feel that he has got more than he deserves; but your anger " she broke off abruptly and sat with her lips pressed tight as though keeping back a sob.
You have no cause to reproach me with lack of faith in you, Randalin, for when every happening even your own words made it appear as if it were love for Rothgar Lodbroksson which brought you into the camp, I looked into your eyes and believed them against all else." In the intensity of the living present he forgot the dead past until he saw its ghosts troop like gray shadows across her face.
Perhaps her gaze was not quite clear as she crossed the room, for she did not see that the door-curtains were moving until she was close upon them, when they were thrust apart to admit the form of Rothgar Lodbroksson. Stifling a gasp, she shrank behind a tall chair. He did not see her, however, for his eyes were fastened upon the King, who had turned back to the window.
I asked him, with a hope that Halfden had come home, for now I knew that we had indeed followed Lodbrok's track exactly. "How should it be other than Ingvar Lodbroksson? for we have held that Lodbrok, his father, is dead this many a long day." "Let me go to the jarl," I said, rising up.
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