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Updated: June 21, 2025
But no, that was not possible, in the face of what Norman might reveal. She began very, very carefully: "It happened that my mother died before we came to Avalcomb; and my father had but one daughter. She was called Randalin. I did not see what became of her, for I was outside; but I think that she is dead. A her thrall-woman told me that Leofwinesson pursued her to a chamber in the wall.
Circumspect and reserved Every man should be, And wary in trusting friends; Of the words That a man says to another He often pays the penalty. Ha'vama'l. Waking to tapestried walls and jewelled lanterns and a strange splendor of furnishings, Randalin experienced a moment of wild bewilderment. What had happened to the low-ceiled dormitory with its bare wall-spaces splotched with dampness?
"Now what should prevent?" she asked. The girl colored a little as she answered: "It was in the King's mind once, lady, that a good way to dispose of Randalin, Frode's daughter, would be to marry her to the son of Lodbrok. If he should still keep that opinion I would prefer to die!" she ended abruptly.
"As you will," he laughed, "and I will give your Valkyria a steed that shall match her appearance." Advancing again, he spoke to a groom; and the signal set the whole party in motion. Randalin heard his words, but at the moment she was too deep in angry embarrassment to heed them.
The King is listening to a quarrel between an Englishman and a Dane; and by reason of it, there are many in the room whose tempers may " Randalin, who alone of all the maidens had remained undauntedly at her mistress' elbow, caught that elbow in a vice-like grip. "Take the gallery, then, lady!" she urged in a piercing whisper. "The gallery, as quick as you can."
Crouching on her bench near the door, Randalin watched him as a fly caught in a web watches the approaching spider. She had forgotten her errand; she had forgotten her disguise; she had forgotten where she was; her one conscious emotion was fear. Her eyes followed his roving glance from spear to banner, from floor to ceiling, in terrible anticipation.
"No, in truth, for I thought of it before I knew that trouble had happened to her," Randalin answered; and now she knew that it was safe to release the wrists. "I will show you. I was thinking how it might cause amusement to us to ride into the City and see what the goldsmiths have in their booths. And then I came in here and found you in need of goldsmiths' mending!
Would he do such horrid wickedness?" "No!" Randalin cried passionately. "No!" But even as she cried it, Thorkel the Tall dared to lean forward and give the royal shoulder a rallying slap. "Amleth himself never played a game better," he said; "but is it worth while to continue at it when no Englishmen are watching?" And his words seemed to open a door against which the others were crowding.
Leaving them, he moved forward to the well and stood gazing into it, his fingers mechanically raking together and crushing the dead leaves that had fluttered down upon the curbing. Dearwyn's pretty lips began to quiver with approaching tears. "Randalin, I am miserably terrified. The air feels as though awful things were about to happen."
And whether he did not see her bridling displeasure, or whether he saw and no longer cared to appease it, the result was the same. Randalin spoke abruptly to her companion. "Dearwyn, I can tell you something. Elfgiva will never get the queenship over England." "What moves you to say that?" the little English girl asked her, startled.
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