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Updated: June 9, 2025
Pitching his cloak higher on his shoulders, he fastened his eyes on a hole in the tapestry behind the Etheling's chair and began monotonously to recite his lesson: "Rothgar, the son of Lodbrok, sends you greeting, Sebert Oswaldsson; and it is his will that you surrender to him the odal and Tower of Ivarsdale; as is right, because the odal was created and the Tower was built by Ivar Vidfadmi, who was the first son of Lodbrok and the father's father's father of my chief " In spite of himself, he was obliged to stop to take in breath.
It was a respite to be alone, and she accepted it gratefully, sinking among the cushions with closed eyes and a hand on her throbbing wrist. But it was only a respite; she never for a moment lost sight of that. The battle must be faced, and faced boldly. One word of reluctance would be the surest betrayal of her secret. And betrayal meant Rothgar!
Do you think it troublesome to tell me why it was that you said, that day in the garden Now shake off that look, dearest; never will we speak of it again if it is not to your wish! Tell me what you meant by saying that you came into Canute's camp because you had too much faith in Rothgar, if you despise him since you despise him so?" Her eyes met his wonderingly.
Like the bellow of an angry bull, Rothgar's voice broke through his. "Land! Quickly will I proclaim my opinion of any man who sets his heart on that! He who forgets glory in his eagerness for property, deserves the curse of Thor!" "Prepare yourself, then, for a thunderbolt, Rothgar Lodbroksson," a clear voice spoke up suddenly.
Between swallows, they were carrying on a heated discussion of the day's events; but Eric of Norway stopped long enough to nod toward the wattled hut beneath the silken banner. "In there; and I will give you this chain off my neck if you can guess what he is doing." "It is likely that he is busy with messengers," Rothgar said with an accent of vexation.
Then he said, "Go on, and tell me everything you can remember;" and once more lay staring at the ceiling in silence. He did not appear to notice it when she stopped; the pause lasted so long that Rothgar concluded that sleep had overtaken their host and rose softly to betake himself to such cheer as the fires offered.
"There is room in your breast for more sense, Rothgar, my brother, if you think, because I am forced into one lie, that I never speak the truth," he said. "We will not talk of it further. I should like to remain good-humored to-night, if it were possible. What are the words you have waiting for my ears?" The Jotun's sudden frown quite eclipsed his eyes.
All at once his face was so terrible that the man began to crawl backward, screaming, even before Canute's hand had reached his hilt. Before the blade could be drawn, Rothgar had stepped in front of his royal foster-brother with a savage sweep of his handless arm. "Do not waste your point on the churl, King," he said in his bull's voice.
"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.
"It would be better to let us stay, King, if you please. You are weaponless." "Go," Canute repeated. In a moment the doors beyond the curtain had closed behind them, and the two men were alone save for the girl hiding forgotten in the shadow of the chair. Rothgar laughed jarringly. "Whatever has been told about you, you have not yet been accounted a coward.
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