For The White Christ Part 17

"And which I 'll not take from you," rejoined Olvir. "Shall I cut the heart from the breast of my brother?"

"That the maiden already has done. I blame neither her nor my loyal brother. You have wooed for me, and failed; now you can woo for yourself without blame."

"He may win the same answer, lord count," said Fastrada, proudly.

The retort pa.s.sed unheeded. The foster-brothers were gazing into each other's eyes. Soon, however, Roland turned away, that his friend might not perceive the grief which he could no longer hide. Olvir divined the cause of the movement, and he also sank back on his couch, to stare moodily before him.

For a while Fastrada held to her pretence of coldness, waiting for Olvir to begin his wooing. But he maintained his moody stare, and gave no sign. His silence and the sternness of his look puzzled and alarmed the girl. Clearly, this was a very different kind of lover from the sighing swains who trembled if she but withheld her smiles. Not even Roland would have so fought against his love when freed from the bond of foster-duty. One who could put honor before desire was indeed rare among suitors. Woman-like, Fastrada grew all the more eager at the seeming indifference. Unable longer to simulate coyness, she leaned toward her chosen hero and whispered softly: "Olvir,--Olvir, I wait to hear you speak."

Without turning or lifting his head, the Northman answered coldly: "Why should you wait, daughter of Rudulf? I have stamped my heel on the heart of my brother; I have stolen from him what he cherished more than life. The thief's loot is the thief's curse."

"Yet what have you stolen, Olvir? Surely, nothing that Lord Roland possessed, or any other Frank. Until you came, I had never loved any man--and now--and now--"

The pleading whisper died away in silence; but Olvir had turned, flushed and bright-eyed, no longer able to resist the love which filled his whole being. He saw how the girl leaned toward him, her bosom heaving, her scarlet lips half parted. Her cheeks were again crimson with blushes, and her eyes met his gaze with the open confession of her love.

"Thou art Freya!" he exclaimed adoringly, and the girl quivered with joy to see how his face softened and his eyes shone with rapture. Half unconsciously they drew nearer together and murmured their love over and over again.

They exchanged rings and whispered the betrothal vows, regardless alike of the unheeding revellers and of the far from friendly glances of their host. If Hardrat the Thuringian felt displeased at the success of the Dane intruder, no trace of the feeling was perceptible on his wine-flushed features. Lupus, however, took no pains to repress his jealous scowl.

For a time the Vascon was required to devote his attention to the royal guest at his side; but when Karl fell to jesting with Abbot Fulrad, Lupus could watch the lovers, undiverted. As he looked, a fit of jealous rage seized upon him. Though they hardly touched hands, the sight was more than he could bear. His first thought was to sign to his steward to put poison in the Northman's wine. A seemingly careless gesture and nod, and the crafty slave would know the chosen victim. But the sign was not given. At the last moment the duke perceived that Olvir's silver tankard stood br.i.m.m.i.n.g beside his trencher. What little wine the young man drank was sipped from Fastrada's cup.

Barred of his simplest and most certain means of removing his rival, the Vascon sat gnawing his lip, his face distorted with the look of a baffled fiend. Count Hardrat, failing to attract the duke's attention by his warning glances, spoke to the steward. But the mischief was already past mending. Drawn by the intensity of the duke's look, Olvir and Fastrada raised their heads, and for an instant both saw the malignant stare of the Vascon. Quickly as he looked away, neither failed to divine his jealous rage. Fastrada clasped her lover's hand in sudden dread.

"_Ai!_ how he hates you!" she whispered.

"No new tidings," rejoined Olvir. Then he put his hand to his breast and turned smilingly to the maiden. "Dear one, here is hidden a bit of hollowed ivory of which you may have knowledge."

"The hollow was not empty," replied the girl. "I feared for you--I fear more now."

"You feared?"

Fastrada hesitated and glanced across the table at Hardrat. The war-count was intent on his trencher. She drew a deep breath, and, with eyes downcast, murmured her answer to Olvir's question: "My lord should know that others than Roland wooed me before his coming, and so there are those--"

"--Who do not wish me well," said Olvir, as the girl faltered. "Still, that is not cause enough for your wolf's hair."

"True, Olvir; and yet the token was sent at a venture. I know nothing certain. I chanced to see Lupus talking with my drunken countryman Hardrat. As I came upon them, Hardrat growled out your name, and repeated it with a curse. Then they saw me, and the drunkard hurried away like a guilty man. But Lupus stayed to greet me. I could not rid myself of him until I was bidden to the queen's bower."

"He saw that you thought to send a warning."

"No serpent is more subtle. But if he thinks to come between us, let him beware!"

Surprised by the hissing note in the softly murmured threat, Olvir glanced up from the hand he was fondling. He was too late to catch the cruel expression which for a moment had marred the girl's beauty; but he wondered to see how the color of her eyes had altered to a greenish grey. As he looked, her gaze met his, and the greenish tints quickly gave place again to the blue.

"By Freya, sweetheart," he said, "your eyes change their hue."

"My heart will never change."

"Nor mine, by my sword! But what hushes the merrymaking? Ah! the host rises to speak."

Standing on his couch, Lupus smiled down condescendingly upon his guests, and, to draw attention, waved a hand whose every finger was burdened with gem-rings.

"Brave counts and holy priests, chaste dames and beautiful maidens," he began, "fill your goblets to the brim, and drink with me to the health of the great ruler who honors us with his presence."

A chorus of shouts greeted the toast, and every man sprang to his feet, Olvir first of all.

"Long live the king!" cried Hardrat, his bloodshot eyes fixed upon Lupus.

"The king! the king!--long live the king!" shouted the guests in chorus, and the war-counts brandished their bared swords overhead while all present drained their wine-cups to the bottom.

As Olvir sheathed Al-hatif, he looked down, eager to rejoin Fastrada.

In this, however, he was to be disappointed. The duenna dame had risen from her chair and was leaving the table. Immediately all the women present, dames and maidens alike, rose to follow their leader. None longed more to stay than did Fastrada, and she lingered beside Olvir to the very last. Already the women had drawn aside. Olvir looked at the girl ruefully.

"So we must part, sweetheart," he sighed.

Fastrada gazed into his dark face, and half whispered her answer: "Ah, my hero, would that the time had come when we need never part!"

"That, I trust, may soon be," replied Olvir, and he drew aside for the girl to pa.s.s. She would still have lingered beside him, but the old dame beckoned to her, and she glided away to join the other bower-maidens.

As the women swept after their leader through a private pa.s.sage, Duke Lupus reached out to refill the king's gold flagon. He was met by a quick gesture of refusal, and Karl turned his empty cup brim down upon the table.

"Enough of wine," he said. "I am not over-fond of wa.s.sail, and the feast is dull without our fair ones to grace the board."

Lupus opened his lips to protest, but caught a glance from Hardrat, and changed at once to bowing compliance: "Your Majesty, dancing and juggling were to have followed. Yet whatever may be your pleasure--"

"You are a kind host, and we give thanks for the feast. Another time we may enjoy the mountebanks. Farewell, lord duke. G.o.d keep you! Anselm, a word in private; and you, Fulrad. Farewell, my bright Dane."

Olvir wheeled about to salute the king. As his hand fell, his eye met Karl's smiling gaze, and he glanced down at the royal couch. The king looked, and saw the arrow wrapped in his kerchief. He nodded gravely to Olvir, and, arrow in hand, left the chamber, between Anselm and Fulrad.

Released from restraint by the departure of the king, the remaining guests gathered about the head of the table, and many accepted the duke's invitation to join in a wa.s.sail bout. Most of the priests, however, and a few of the counts at once withdrew from the banquet-chamber. In their midst went Olvir, so intent on the vision of Fastrada's loveliness that he had no thought for his foster-brother.

Still musing, he pa.s.sed the door, and found himself standing in the torchlight, face to face with Gerold and Roland. His eyes fell, and he would have pa.s.sed by the two with flushed cheeks, had not Roland laid a hand on his shoulder and turned to walk beside him.

"Our horses are at your camp, gossip," calmly remarked the Frank. "We shall return with you for the night."

"The murderers may yet linger," added Gerold, from the rear.

Olvir halted and stepped back from Roland.

"Thor!" he muttered. "This--after what has happened!"

"Are you not my brother?" demanded Roland. "_Heu_! I know now she did not love me. If she had, I should hate you. But you have robbed me of nothing. How, then, can I grudge you your good fortune?"

"Brother!" cried Olvir.

CHAPTER XII