Unwound from arm winding-rings
Of Kaiser gold wrought--
LAY OF HILDEBRAND.
The seed of gold
Sowed the swan-bright woman,
Rings of red-gold.
SONG OF ATLI.
Morning put an end to Sheik Suleyman's hospitality. Shortly after
sunrise his retainers began striking the tents of the dowar, in
preparation for the journey back across the Pyrenees. To ferry the
envoys over the Garonne, Olvir manned one of his longships, and made
ready to embark with his new-found kinsmen. His purpose was to
accompany the sheik half a day on the march, as a mark of the respect
and affection due his mother's father. He also had in view the return
to the Garonne, when, unhampered by companions, he could test the speed
of the beautiful red mare.
At the last moment, however, as Zora was being led aboard ship, young
Gerold of Busson came galloping down the bank, and hailed the Norse
chief loudly: "Hold, Lord Olvir! The king bids you to his presence."
Olvir turned, frowning, to the sheik, who stood with Kasim in the
vessel's stern.
"Eblis!" he exclaimed in Arabic. "Am I a hound, to leap to another's
bidding? Karolah sends command for my presence. Let him command; I go
with you."
"Allah forbid!" rejoined Al Arabi. "Have you not chosen the service of
the Afranj sultan? Why, then, should he not command? Bend to his wish.
It may be that he sends to honor you."
"Yours are words of wisdom, father of my mother. My freedom is in the
hands of my lord. Farewell, therefore,--and peace be with you till we
meet in Andalus," replied Olvir, and he beckoned the groom who held Zora
to bring the mare to him.
Al Arabi leaned over the ship's side and extended his arms in a yearning
gesture.
"My peace with you, son of Gulnare! I shall suffer many nights of
longing before I see your face on the Ebro's bank."
"The days of our meeting will blot out the memory of the parting,"
answered Olvir; and a smile drove the lingering frown from his brow.
Still smiling, he glanced aside at Kasim, with a pleasant word of
parting on his lips; but neither look nor word won a responsive smile
from the impassive face of the younger Saracen.
A moment later, as the ship's bows swung clear of the bank, Count Gerold
rode down beside Olvir and cried out eagerly: "Tell me, hero, is not
that your rune-friend Liutrad at the helm?"
"Ay."
"Then may he not come with us? Our lord king will be glad to see him
also."
Olvir made a sign to the young giant, who calmly gave the tiller into
Floki's hand, and turned to pick up his ponderous axe.
"The hero should move more briskly if he would come ashore dry shod,"
remarked Gerold, and he pointed to the quickly widening space between
the bank and the longship's stern.
"The stag leaps high. I alone can out spring the son of Erling.
Watch!"
As Olvir spoke, Liutrad bounded up on the high stern-piece of the ship.
For an instant he stood poised on the gilded dragon-tail, gathering
force for the wide leap; then he came flying above the water, clear to
the side of his earl.
"Well done, Dane!" exclaimed Gerold; and he sprang from his horse.
Liutrad caught the extended hand of the queen's brother in his powerful
grip, and met his smile with a look no less friendly. Though the
Northman overtopped the Swabian by a head, the two were so well matched
in years and nature that their hearts warmed in friendship on the spot.
For a while, as the boyish warriors exchanged pledges of friendship,
Olvir watched the white-bearded figure in the stern of the receding
ship. At last, with a gesture of farewell, he turned and looked at the
new-made friends. His face lighted at sight of their smiles, and with a
quick movement he unwound one of the double spirals of gold coiled about
his arm. Another twist in his sinewy fingers broke the spiral into two
equal parts. Handing one to each of the young men, he explained to the
Swabian: "In the North a leader who is not close-fisted is called the
'ring-breaker,' because he gives the red gold of his rings to his true
friends and followers. Here, then, I give you each a ring to wear, as a
token of the bond between you."
Both sought to thank him; but he cut short their words with a gesture.
His face had darkened as though a shadow had fallen across it.
"May the Norns weave you good luck!" he muttered. "Not all friends lack
gall in their mead."
"Surely there shall be none in the sweet mead that I 'll drink with
Liutrad the loreful!" replied Gerold. "But come now. Our lord king is
eager to talk with such wise heroes. It is wonderful that warriors
should be so learned. Few even among monks and priests can mark fair
letters. Were you and Lord Olvir baptized, his Majesty would make
bishops of you both."
"As it is," rejoined Olvir, ironically, "we are benighted heathen,--sons
of the fiend-god Thor. And now, as you well say, we had best be moving
if we would not keep the great king waiting."
"I will walk to the villa beside my Frank friend," remarked Liutrad, as
Olvir placed a hand on Zora's withers and vaulted lightly into the
saddle. But Gerold would not agree.
"Yonder is the camp of one who owes me favor," he said. "I will soon
have a horse for you."
With Liutrad mounted, the three quickly covered the ride to Casseneuil.
Grooms of the king's stables took charge of the horses in the courtyard
of the villa, and Gerold, waving aside the Grand Doorward, himself
ushered his companions to the royal apartments.
Olvir and Liutrad, staring wonderingly about them at the Roman
architecture and Gallo-Roman decorations of the villa, followed Gerold
in half-awed silence through the flower-perfumed courts and the
marble-tessellated passages. At each turn they looked to find
themselves on the threshold of some grand rush-strewn hall, crowded with
war-counts and the Frank king's councillors. When, however, Gerold at
last led them through a curtained archway, a glance at the tapestried
chamber within showed them their mistake.
"The queen's bower!" muttered Olvir, and his black eyes flashed their
glance along the line of busily sewing maidens on the right to Rothada,
playing with her sister and brothers at the edge of the dais that
extended across the farther end of the chamber. Upon the dais sat
Hildegarde herself, side by side with her royal spouse.
With all his haughty pride, Olvir was quick to realize the honor paid
him, stranger and outlander as he was, by such an introduction into the
bosom of the Frank king's family. When he perceived the queen's
extended hand beckoning him to approach, he advanced at once down the
chamber, without pausing to look about. In his eagerness he failed to
see Count Roland and Fastrada, who had drawn apart into one of the
recessed windows of the bower. Liutrad, however, chancing to glance
that way, turned aside to inquire the health of the wounded count; and
Fastrada took instant advantage of the interruption to glide out beside
Gerold. If her intention was to overtake Olvir, she was too late. He
was already kneeling at the edge of the dais, to kiss the queen's hand.
As the Northman's knee touched the dais step, the great Frank in the
oaken seat struck his thigh, and cried loudly: "By my sweet dame's
spindle! hereafter I swear by that token! The Dane bows neither to
sword nor crown, yet stoops low to a woman's hand."
Olvir stood erect and looked straight into the gracious face of the
queen. Hair of golden floss, a skin of dazzling fairness,--neither was
new to him; but the mild blue eyes beamed with spiritual light such as
was seldom seen even in the lands of Christendom. The daughter of
Childebrand, despite her seven years of wedlock, was a dame very lovely
to the eye, no less in expression than in feature.
Olvir smiled at her as he would have smiled at Rothada, and, without
turning, he answered the king steadily: "I come of high blood, lord
king; also, I am a free Northman,--I bow to no man. But the greatest of
all may well bow to holiness. We have a saying in the North, 'A good
woman is near the gods.'"
"That is a wise saw, however heathenish. But give heed to our queen;
she has something to say to you."
"I would give thanks for the safe bringing of this little maiden,"
remarked Hildegarde. "Only a warrior of noblest heart could have done
such a deed."
Olvir shook his head smilingly.
"I freed the Dane's thralls for my own pleasure, which you now double,"
he said.
"But you shall also accept this ring, as mark of our gratitude,"
rejoined the queen, and she drew a bracelet of twisted gold wires from
her white wrist. When she held out the ornament, Olvir, instead of
grasping it, thrust his left hand through the opening.
"How! is the ring on?" exclaimed Karl, in surprise. "The lad has no need
to talk of high birth,--a warrior with hands womanly slender!"
"Yet fit to grasp spear or sword," added Hildegarde, gazing curiously at
the young sea-king's hard palms and sinewy wrists.
"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 sturdy 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
massive knees of majesty.
There was space 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 shield. 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 shield 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 shield. 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, flushing
with pleasure, added heartily, "Amen to the good wish! 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."