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Updated: May 21, 2025
'Curse the monk! growled Wulf. 'How should such a poor beast know anything about the matter? 'Why should not he know as well as that ape of a Roman governor? asked Smid. 'Oh, the monks know everything, said Pelagia. 'They go hundreds and thousands of miles up the river, and cross the deserts among fiends and monsters, where any one else would be eaten up, or go mad at once.
On the opposite brink of the basin, tended each by a dark-eyed Hebe, who filled the wine-cups, and helped now and then to empty them, lay the especial friends and companions in arms of the Amal, Goderic the son of Ermenric, and Agilmund the son of Cniva, who both, like the Amal, boasted a descent from gods; and last, but not least, that most important and all but sacred personage, Smid the son of Troll, reverenced for cunning beyond the sons of men; for not only could he make and mend all matters, from a pontoon bridge to a gold bracelet, shoe horses and doctor them, charm all diseases out of man and beast, carve runes, interpret war-omens, foretell weather, raise the winds, and finally, conquer in the battle of mead-horns all except Wulf the son of Ovida; but he had actually, during a sojourn among the half-civilised Maesogoths, picked up a fair share of Latin and Greek, and a rough knowledge of reading and writing.
Philammon, not understanding the language in which he was addressed, could only shake his head though if he had known what its import was, he could hardly in honesty have said, No. 'He shakes his head! He does not like it! He is craven! Let us have him! 'I had killed kings when you were shooting frogs, cried Smid. 'Listen to me, my sons!
'Do you hear that, master monk? said Smid, chucking him under the chin, while the rest of the party seemed to think the whole business an excellent joke, and divided their ridicule openly enough between the Prefect and his victim. 'The man of blood has said it. I am a martyr, answered the monk in a dogged voice. 'You will take a good deal of time in becoming one.
She reeled, but did not fall. 'It is enough, she said quietly. 'The accursed Grendel's daughter numbed my arm! said Smid. 'Let her go! No man shall say that I struck a woman twice. 'Nidhogg waits for her, soon or late, answered Wulf.
Whether the good spirit or the evil one would conquer, seemed for a moment doubtful, when Pelagia felt a heavy hand on her shoulder, and turning, saw Wulf the son of Ovida. 'Go back, pretty woman! Men, I claim the boy. Smid, give him to me. He is your man. You could have killed him if you had chosen, and did not; and no one else shall. 'Give him us, Prince Wulf!
Their 'Kingdom of heaven, as his name declared him, who was all that each wished to be, and more, and yet belonged to them, bone of their bone, flesh of their flesh! Ah, it is bitter to all true human hearts to be robbed of their ideal, even though that ideal be that of a mere wild bull, and soulless gladiator.... At last Smid spoke 'Heroes, this is Odin's doom; and the All-father is just.
Send off old Smid, and let him beat the armourer if he can. 'A very good thought! said Wulf, and came out instantly for the purpose of putting it in practice. Pelagia had just time to retreat into an adjoining doorway: but she had heard enough; and as Wulf passed, she sprang to him and caught him by the arm. 'Oh, come in hither!
'For Amalric Amal's Son Smid Troll's Son Made Me. Wherein whether they spoke truth or not, yet their sacrilege did not remain unpunished; for attempting to return homeward toward the sea by way of the Nile, they were set upon while weighed down with wine and sleep, by the country people, and to a man miserably destroyed.
Now, you and I are good to finish this jar, at least. 'And another after it, if our talk is not over by that time. 'Why, are you going to hold a council of war? 'That is as you take it. Now, look here, Smid. Whomsoever I cannot trust, I suppose I may trust you, eh?
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