A handsome boy about fourteen, whose strong resemblance to Adalo marked
him as his brother--only his curling locks were light yellow, almost
white--was dragging by the ear a huge she-bear, which, growling,
struggling, but yielding, allowed herself to be drawn nearer and nearer
to the fire.
"Down, Bruna!" cried the lad, forcing the huge animal to lie prostrate.
"You dearly loved the merry, dancing girl too. Look, you growling brown
giantess, that's only the grandmother, and Zercho, who always brought
you so much wild-honey from the bee-wood. But _she_ is missing; our
Bissula is gone. Ah, if you had been there, you would have defended her
savagely; for you haven't forgotten that she and Adalo saved you,
dragged you out of the torrent. When you were scarcely bigger than a
kitten the cloud-burst swept you away from your mother, and you cried
piteously as you were drowning. And her busy hands fed you even more
eagerly than ours, with rich milk, rye bread, and dainty wild berries.
Since you first opened your blinking eyes, which now look as though you
knew as much as a human being, you have recognized her as your best
friend. Oh, if you had been with her, no one would have dared to seize
her. O brother, strong brother, you hero and shield of the whole
province, bring her back! Alas, if the little one, with her dainty
hands, should be forced to heat the bath-water for the hated foe and
wash his feet, as I often saw their maid-servants do in Arbor! Why
don't we rush down on the wings of the storm and hew her out of the
high-walled camp citadel?"
He swung his little wolf spear: the fire blazed up brightly as he stood
in the light of the flames, a handsome boyish figure, in his light-blue
linen robe bordered with white swan's down.
"Yes, my Sippilo," said the older brother with ill-repressed sorrow,
"you loved her too."
The boy looked up startled, but Adalo continued:
"Yes, yes. Perhaps she is dead--to us, to our people. Perhaps we shall
never see her again, never hear her sweet, elfish, mocking laugh."
"Oh, the smoke! How it stings!" cried the lad, wiping the tears from
his eyes.
"Perhaps she went with the Italians willingly," said Adalo, torturing
himself savagely--"with the clever Ausonius!"
"Is he here again?" cried Sippilo. "I'll run him through like a fat
carp that is sunning itself in shallow water. Oh, I used to wish he
might fall under the curse of Odin and the sun. Whenever I went to get
frogs for fishing or to play ball, she had always rowed over to him or
would not leave the long rolls of runes over which she racked her
brains. He had given them to her. If only I could catch him!"
"If we only had her back again! My heart is consumed with anxiety."
"Guard yourself from consuming anxiety, my son," said the old woman in
a warning tone. "It will paralyze your thoughts and arm; and you will
need both to liberate the naughty child. I am no prophetess, but I have
had strange dreams since I grew blind--which often come to pass: I saw
you to-night wounded, severely wounded. Guard your life. If she should
be rescued, and no longer find you--"
"Then her vengeful wish would be fulfilled. She hates me. She shouted
it loudly enough."
Sippilo laughed. "You? Hate you? She loves you better than a
sister. How I always had to tell her about you, everything you were
doing,--your prizes of honor in the contests; the gifts of neighboring
princes; your last verses; whom they praised! When I met her on the
lake quite lately, she asked if Jettaburga and her father did not often
visit the Stag Hall. When I said that they no longer came there, for
sheer delight she loosed from her own waist the beautiful blue girdle
she always wore, and gave it to me. See, there it is. I always carry it
hidden in my blouse. And, Bruna, didn't she once kiss you between the
eyes, when I told her how you had sprung to Adalo's assistance in the
chase and torn the furious wild bull which was goring his horse? Yes,
Bruna, you are faithful to her too. You have trotted after us for hours
when we were gathering berries and mushrooms, and watched our noonday
nap."
Just at that moment a long-drawn blast of a horn echoed from the summit
of the mountain. Adalo started up.
"The Duke is calling. We are to consult about what is to be proposed in
the people's council. Zercho, come with me. He wishes to question you
about the number of the enemy's mounted men. You, Sippilo, take care of
Mother Waldrun; that is all you can do for your Bissula."
"For the present," said the boy looking after his brother. "But I will
take part in storming the camp fortress where the scoundrels hold
captive the prettiest little bird--little gold-crested wren, no, little
redbreast--in the land of the Alemanni." He raised his clenched fist
threateningly.