For The White Christ Part 26

"Make ready at once," he said. "The queen would return. She comes now."

Floki uttered a word of command; and while the grumbling wa.s.sailers manned the oars he kept a sharp eye on the approaching party. There was no more merriment to be heard among the young Franks. Even the royal children were sobered. Hildegarde, who was leaning heavily upon Roland's arm, looked both grieved and hara.s.sed. Close after, between Lupus and young Worad, walked Fastrada, with drooping body and pale, downcast face. Last of all, behind the whispering pages and bower-maidens, came Liutrad, apart from the others.

Roland seated the queen and the children, as before, in his boat; but Fastrada pa.s.sed by Olvir's boat with a shudder. As she accepted Worad's silent invitation, Hildegarde looked up and spoke half hesitatingly: "How of--Lord Olvir?"

"Let his boat wait," suggested her brother.

"No," put in Floki, curtly.

"Why not?" demanded Roland, and he leaned toward the tall giant, frowning.

"What use, when he has gone?" rejoined Floki.

"You 've seen him!" exclaimed Liutrad.

"Ay, lad."

"What did he say, man?" asked Worad, sharply.

Floki eyed the questioner with a cold stare; but then, smiling in a peculiar way, he answered dryly: "The earl bade me take joy."

"Take joy!--why take joy?" asked the queen.

Floki fixed his stare upon Lupus and the drooping Fastrada, and stood muttering to himself. But he made no response until Roland repeated the inquiry. When he turned and saw the anxiety of both queen and count, his look lost its coldness; but he shook his head.

"There are others here who can best answer that," he said. "If they will not speak, go ask the earl. Ho, all! to your benches! Cast off, men!"

Roland's troubled face darkened yet more; but, without protest, he grasped the steer-oar of his boat. Floki stepped into the place of his absent leader, and the boats thrust out from the sh.o.r.e with the saddened merrymakers.

CHAPTER XIX

Manful they march by mountain dales, Stout of heart o'er the stony cliffs, As far as run the roads before them, Once built by giants.

ANDREAS.

Dawn of the day of marching found the vikings drawn up on the south bank of the Garonne; but Zora stood at the head of their column, without a rider. Olvir had lingered for a last word with the Frisians and disabled Danes who had been left as s.h.i.+p-watch. With the first glimpse of the sun, he was stepping aboard his waiting boat, when Gerold rode down the bank in company with Amalwin the Saxon.

Both eyed the sea-king coldly, and Gerold hastened to be done with his message: "Count Hardrat has advanced with the horse; after him march the Austrasian levies. You will follow."

Olvir's dark face, which at first had warmed with a smile of welcome, hardened at the curt command.

"Your king gave me pledge of the front," he said. "I should at least follow the hors.e.m.e.n."

"You will follow where his Majesty commands," rejoined Count Amalwin.

Olvir glanced from the Saxon to his dragon-s.h.i.+ps, moored along the bank, and drew himself up haughtily.

"Will!" he retorted. "By Thor, I go where I choose, fellow! If it please me, I take s.h.i.+p and leave Frank Land; let your Frank king command!"

"Do so!" growled Amalwin. "The land were well rid of such an outland wooer! Men call my forest folk barbarous; but, heathen though they be, they hold pure maidens in honor."

"No less do I!" cried Olvir, hotly. "He who says else, lies!"

"It is well, Dane, I fare Rhineward, and you to Saracen Land. Would that Rudulf had broken your heathen back!" cried the Saxon, and he shook his clenched fist at Olvir.

The Northman's eyes glittered, and he smiled.

"Come," he lisped. "There is no better time than now. I will meet you singly, or together."

"Holy Mother!" protested Gerold. "Why should we fight, Olvir? The maiden weeps, and Roland is like a bear in the springtime; but--"

"But all listen to the tale of the Wend witch's daughter," added Olvir, bitterly.

"We would hear you speak, hero. The maiden says nothing. Only, Lupus--"

"Lupus! Let that fox look to his crooked tongue! When the daughter of Rudulf speaks, I will answer. Until then my sword speaks for me."

Count Amalwin bent forward, with an altered look.

"You speak rashly, young man," he said; "but your eye is clear, and--Lupus has a crafty wit. I doubt if you are so greatly in the wrong as he hints in his twisted talk."

"Believe as you choose," said Olvir. "I have had enough of Frank love and Frank troth. In the North we are not so hasty to put shame upon a man. Now, if you are not minded to sword-play, I have only to weigh anchor."

"By the fiend Odin!" growled Amalwin; "you are a proud blade, even for Otkar's fostering. Hear me; I am of a mind with Gerold, and,--a friend's word in your ear,--if you come Rhineward, look that you shun the Grey Wolf and his mate."

"My thanks for the warning," said Olvir, coldly. "Yet it is needless.

I sail homewards. Your king has broken troth."

"No, Olvir," interrupted Gerold; "the king keeps troth. I myself heard the command given. Your band is chosen for the king's s.h.i.+eldburg. At the Pyrenees you will be called to the front."

"So! by the King of Skalds, that is another tune," replied Olvir, and he turned to the Saxon with a quick smile. "Sharp words have pa.s.sed,--it may be mine were sharpest; but none should look for other than snarls from a baited bear."

Amalwin's scarred face unbent in an answering smile, and he extended his hand.

"If wrong has been done," he said, "you are not the one at fault. I trust we may meet again as battle-mates. We are used to duller feathers over Rhine; yet I stand ever ready to welcome one who could throttle the Grey Wolf, whether he wear silk or hide."

"It may be I shall again see your forests. Until then farewell, lord counts."

"Farewell," replied Amalwin, and he rode off up the bank. But Gerold, instead of following, sprang to the ground.

"What now, lad?" asked Olvir.

"I have yet to see Liutrad. Abbot Fulrad wishes him to aid Worad with the lettering. The abbot's scribe is to stay behind with Hildegarde.

But first, I would ask your pardon for my coldness."