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Updated: June 9, 2025
"By no means could I have said that, lord. When I left home, I knew not that Rothgar lived. The one in whom I had too much faith was the King. Because I was young and little experienced, I thought him a god; and when I came to his camp and found him a man, I thought only to escape from him. That was why I wore those clothes, Sebert not because I liked so wild a life.
I thought it a well-mannered way to show his thankfulness. But why is your voice so bitter when you speak of him?" "Because I have just found out that he is a fox," Rothgar bellowed.
"Since you have heard the Norman rumor," he said, "it is likely that you have heard also of the discontent among the Danes, who dislike my judgments; but in case you have not, I will tell you that an abundance of them have betaken themselves to a place in the Middlesex forest where they live outlaws, and their leader is Rothgar Lodbroksson."
The young noble, who hovered around his chief much as Rothgar circled about Canute, would have been lordly in a serf's tunic; and the leader's royal bearing distinguished him even more than his mighty frame. At the sight of him, Rothgar uttered a great cry of "Edmund!" and moved forward, swinging his uplifted axe.
Understanding nothing of the clairvoyant power of sharpened nerves, she set it down to cowardice, and put on an extra swagger now as her eyes met his. Rothgar surveyed the sprig of defiance with no more than a perfunctory interest. "It seems that you are the son of Frode the Dane," he said in his heavy voice.
"Because it has been borne in upon me that he has played me a foul trick, by which I lost property that was already under my hands; lost it forever, Troll take him! if it be really true that we are to make no more warfare upon the lands south of the Watling Street." "It is not possible!" Canute ejaculated. "He looks to be as truthful as Balder." Rothgar uttered his favorite grunt.
Rothgar leaped forward to bar the passage, and the mantle that fell from his face showed no laughter of mouth or eyes. "I have not as yet spoken harm, but it is not sure that I do not mean it," he said. "If you take it in this manner to see how you have been tricked, you may suppose how well I like it to remember the lies she fed to me, who would have staked my life upon her truthfulness.
Only," he thrust his knuckles suddenly between the other's ribs, "only, before we get serious over it, do at least give one laugh. Though she be Ran herself, the maiden has played an excellent joke upon you." "I do not see how you make out that it is all upon me," Rothgar said sulkily. "It did not appear that you got suspicious in any way, until I told you myself what she talked like.
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.
Lash him with your tongue or your belt, as you will; and I promise that I will not lift finger to hinder you from it." "And not hold it against me?" Rothgar demanded incredulously. "And not hold it against you," Canute agreed. Then he tilted his head back to laugh openly in the other's face.
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