For The White Christ Part 13

"Before I could walk I played with weapons," replied Olvir, and he glanced aside at the royal children. The king looked also, and at once beckoned to the little group. The st.u.r.dy boy Karl sprang forward at the signal, followed by his imperious little sister Rotrude and the toddling Carloman. After the children of Hildegarde came their unfortunate half-brother, the crook-backed Pepin. All were soon perched upon the ma.s.sive knees of majesty.

There was s.p.a.ce left for Rothada at her father's side; but she had lingered to greet Olvir. She came to him, her face beaming with delight and gay welcome, which yet could not altogether hide the shyness of budding maidenhood. Olvir did not wait for her faltering speech. He caught her hands in his and bent to kiss her white forehead.

"Health to you, maiden!" he said. "My sea-wolves send greeting to their little seeress. Already they howl for a glimpse of her bright face."

"I pray they may not howl so loud as when Liutrad, yonder, and the lofty Floki upraised us on the s.h.i.+eld. My heart turned to water for fear of their roaring," replied Rothada; and even the awe of her father's presence could not restrain a burst of merry laughter at the memory.

Olvir smiled down into the girl's sparkling eyes.

"Ay, king's daughter," he said; "but you soon lost your dread of the grim hailers. Did you not cry back greeting to them? Small wonder they hailed the little valkyrie who stood so boldly on the s.h.i.+eld with their earl; small wonder they choose for vala the wise little leech-maid who went among the stricken warriors with soft words and healing balm."

Karl stared at his daughter in wonder.

"Do you jest, Count Olvir?" he demanded. "This is a part of the tale I had not yet heard. Surely, for a nun-child--"

"She was no nun-child, then, but the child of the great Frank king.

Already she had turned away Floki from the burning of the thralls. Then she stood with me on the swaying s.h.i.+eld. But not until we crossed the river bar and held war-council oh the Garonne bank did the crews choose her for their vala,--their little seeress-maiden. The stricken Danes whom she had nursed aboard my Raven set her in the midst of the gathering, and the king's daughter won all alike by her sweet wisdom and lore. She holds the fierce hearts of my sea-wolves by a bond subtle and strong as the fetter of the Fenris-wolf. We have sworn to carve the blood-eagle on the back of whoever does her harm."

"The Holy Mother bless you!" cried Hildegarde; and the king, flus.h.i.+ng with pleasure, added heartily, "Amen to the good wis.h.!.+ You have well earned it, my bright Dane,--you and all your followers, though you be twice over heathen. Before sunset the grim warriors shall see the maiden in their midst. Now come to my side, child, and let a seat be brought for our guests."

CHAPTER IX

As fair as thou seest Brides on the bench abiding.

Let not love's silver Rule over thy dreams; Draw no woman to kind kisses.

LAY OF SIGRDRIFA.

As Rothada sprang up the step of the dais to nestle close to her father, Gerold drew out a bench from the nearest wall. On this Olvir seated himself, and the king beckoned to Liutrad and Roland.

"Come forward, heroes," he said; "and you, Gerold."

The quick advance of her companions left Fastrada alone in the midst of the bower. She hesitated and looked appealingly to the king. Karl had bent over the children clasped in his great arms; but Hildegarde saw the girl's look, and signed to her to take the place on the bench beside Roland.

Crimson with shamefaced delight, the girl glided forward. Near the bench, however, she began to falter, seemingly overcome by diffidence.

A very audible t.i.ttering from the other bower-maidens sent her edging around the end of the bench farthest from Roland. Then the king, drawn by the note of merriment, looked up and fixed his gaze upon her. Was it to be wondered that, between her diffidence and the awe of the royal presence, the girl shrank back to the bench in such confusion as to thrust herself between Liutrad Erlingson and his lord?

Karl burst into a hearty laugh.

"Holy Mother!" he exclaimed, "it is our herald maiden. She plays her own part more ill than another's. Did you not tell me, sweetheart, that Roland--ay, it was Roland! We will mend matters if this young Dane bear will barter seats on the bench with a stricken hero."

Liutrad sprang up at the word. But Count Roland sat firmly in his place.

"The maiden has good eyesight, and there is s.p.a.ce beside me," he said.

A second and louder t.i.tter ran down the row of bower-maidens, and even Hildegarde could not suppress a smile. Fastrada only blushed the more, and sat with downcast eyes, not even venturing a glance at the young sea-king beside her. Her drooping shoulder pressed lightly against the gold spirals on the Norse hero's mailed arm. She sat very quiet.

Again Karl laughed, this time at the frowning face of his nephew.

"Ha, kinsman," he admonished in a jesting tone, "the maiden seems coy.

Your wooing has been over-hearty."

"That could not be, dear lord, if the maiden loves him," observed Hildegarde, softly.

"Which is to say--"

"Nothing, sire, nothing!" broke in Roland. "We were merely talking of my sword-brother."

"A choice subject," rejoined Karl; "yet had I worn the buskins of Count Roland, I should have talked more of the maiden herself, and of Count Roland's thoughts of her."

Roland's frown deepened, and Fastrada's blus.h.i.+ng face bent still farther forward. Olvir sat rigidly erect, striving to resist his desire to gaze down on the drooping maiden. He had caught one glimpse of her face as she stood between him and the king,--a glimpse that of itself was enough to set his pulses wildly throbbing; and now there was added to it the warmth and perfume of her person close against his side. The temptation was almost greater than he could bear. Only by the strongest effort could he hold in mind his duty to his foster-brother. Of all present, he perhaps felt most keenly the constraint of the silence which followed the king's well-meant raillery.

The pause was broken by Hildegarde, with the kindly thought of diverting attention from the lovers.

"Dear lord, you told me that Count Olvir was the foster-son of Otkar the Dane. Have I not also heard you say that Lord Otkar was the craftiest as well as the strongest of warriors?"

"He was a foe worthy a king," answered Karl. "Would that the hero were now beside my throne, with his grey wit and mighty axe! Yet I should not complain. Here is one whom he has reared in all his lore and wisdom."

"The lore, but not the wisdom, lord king," replied Olvir. "He could give me the one; the other no man may impart."

"True; and the saying tells me you have found wisdom for yourself.

Beware, for now I shall put your wit to the test. I would ask your counsel on this Saracen war. All my other borders are pacified. Even the Saxon Mark--"

"Count nothing on the Saxons, lord king," interrupted Olvir.

"How! already a difference from my councillors? Not one in my hall but will tell you those wolves are at last tamed. I have planted their wild land with fortresses and chapels."

"Your church t.i.thes and the preaching of your priests will soon stir the sons of Odin to renewed anger. I speak words from Otkar's lips. There will be blood on priestly robes. Your burgs and your chapels will see the torch. Look for no sure peace in Saxon Land so long as Wittikind the Westphalian bears his head upon his shoulders."

"He dwells with Sigfrid the Dane, as you yourself bring word."

"Scant cheer! When he comes again, it will be with a following of Dane warriors. If he is content to dwell always with the Nordmannian king, why should he send the murderer Hroar to bear off this little maiden by your knee?"

The king laid his hand on Rothada's head, and his face grew stern with a look of majesty and power before which even Olvir sat half awed.

"Dane and Saxon,--sea-wolf and forest-wolf,--let the wild hordes come!

They shall find other than lambs to greet them!"

"Yet now you 'd lay open the Mark to them, lord king," persisted Olvir.

"You plan to lead your host still farther from the Rhineland."

"By Thor, Olvir," broke in Liutrad, with Norse freedom, "why seek to mar such fair chance of sword-play? The more of war, the merrier for heroes.

And would you turn aid from your Saracen kin?"

"Saracen kin; how's that, my Norse hawk? Is the boy mad?"