CHAPTER XIII

Until that Guiki With gold arrayed me And gave me to Sigurd. LAY OF GUDRUN.

For a while the deserted guests stood staring at one another, and there was dread in the eyes of even Liutrad and the king. Olvir alone showed no fear. If he had dared the power of the Wend witch in the depths of Fulda Wood, he would not yield awe to her now. Presently he burst into a scornful laugh.

"Thor!" he jeered. "The witch-wife flees before a child,--a fearsome witch!"

"By the rood!" muttered Karl, and he drew in a deep breath; "they say true who name Rudulf's wife a heathen alruna."

But Hildegarde gathered the two trembling boys in her arms, and looked across at Olvir with a grateful smile.

"Dear lord," she said, "our bright Dane speaks truth. Witch or no, the Wend woman has fled before our little maiden. What need have we to fear the curse of one so powerless?"

"Here is yet more comfort for those who have faith in spells," added Olvir. "At the king's belt swings Ironbiter, my father's sword, upon whose blade are magic runes, cut by Otkar himself. They are pledged to guard the wielder against all witchcraft and evil."

Gerold shook his head doubtingly, and drew closer to the fire. "I have more faith in Christian signs. Yet though I marked the cross while she spoke, and twice since, I say freely that I would sooner face an aurochs bull naked-handed than stand again before that witch. Thank God, she is gone!"

"Into the storm, brother!" murmured Hildegarde, pityingly. "May the dear Christ save her body from wolf and cold, and her soul from hatred!"

At the fervent prayer, Fastrada stared up at the queen as her mother had stared at Rothada. But when she met Hildegarde's mild eyes, radiant with spiritual light, her gaze sank again to the hearth at her feet, and a dark flush overspread her face. Karl, who alone gave heed to the girl's shame, mistook its cause, and his own face reddened with a guilty flush.

"God bless you, dear wife!" he muttered. "What curse can bring harm upon so gracious a soul? But as to that Wend witch, should she escape the storm and wolf-pack, let her beware the law. Though twice over the wife of Rudulf and mother of this maiden, I will enforce against her to the utmost the just doom for evil spells and witcheries. Enough for the time of the hag and her curses. She has gone out among her storm-fiends; let them cherish her. We will warm our knees by her hearth. Fetch wood for the fire!"

As Gerold and Liutrad sprang up to bring fagots from the far end of the hut, Olvir led Rothada about to the fire, and sought a new bar for the door, which was swaying to and fro with the eddying draught. Before making it fast, however, he peered out in search of the Wend woman. He might as well have sought to look through a fog on the narrow seas.

Though the first fury of the wind had spent its force, the snow was now falling with greater thickness than ever. For all Olvir could tell, their grim hostess might have been lurking within a dozen yards of the doorway. He hesitated on the threshold, and was about to shout, when his quick ear caught another note than the creak and soughing of the oak-tops.

"Floki!--The laggard comes at last!" he said, and he faced about to the steaming group around the fire. "Listen, lord king! I hear horns. My vikings come in search of their vala."

Horn in hand, Karl sprang out beside the Northman, and blew the trysting-note. Three times he repeated the call, and then at last an answering note came blaring down the wind. Off toward the river other horns caught up and re-echoed the call. The searchers were beating through the forest. Guided by frequent blasts of the king's horn, they gathered quickly through the white snow-mist.

Soon the nearest horn resounded within a spear-throw, and Olvir flung open the door, that the red firelight might glow out into the storm. Hardly had he done so, when a gigantic white figure leaped out of the swirling snow-mist, and halted within two paces of the doorway, to lean, panting, upon the long shaft of a halberd.

"Greeting, Floki," said Olvir, in a very quiet tone. "You come over-late to the skating."

"Forgive, earl!" replied the tall viking. "Let the king say if the storm did not burst before the signs boded; and, more, we 've had a game on the way."

"Saint Michael!" cried Karl; "you 're torn, man,--you bleed! The wolves!"

"They had their chase, lord king; now they rest on the ice. Only a few turned back before us. After the blood-game, we spread out from either bank. A witling could have guessed that you 'd tricked the grey dogs in the flurry."

"Come within," said Olvir. "The others draw near. I 'll bind up your shoulder while they gather."

"Let be, ring-breaker. I would not bring blood before the queen and our little vala. It is only a flesh nip, and can wait. Here come those whom I outran. Make ready the women and bairns, and we 'll bear all to the king's burg."

"Better for them to linger by the warm hearth till the storm is spent," said Olvir.

But Karl struck his fist into his open palm.

"No! by all the fiends, no!" he swore. "We linger no longer under this unholy roof. Ho! within there,--Liutrad--Gerold! Cast the brands among the fagots, and let all come out. Guests arrive; we should have hearth-cheer for all."

Obedient to the king's command, the young men swept the blazing brands from the hearthstone across to the high-heaped stack of fuel. Quickly the flames licked in among the dry fagots, and spread to right and left. Then, puzzled, but satisfied that they had done the king's will, the young men followed the others from the hut. As they passed the threshold, a dozen vikings came leaping out of the white swirl, wild with delight at sight of their little vala.

In the midst of the rejoicings, the fire within the hut burst hissing through the sodden thatch, and poured out overhead in a torrent of smoke and flames. Then the red tongues began to thrust between the half-rotted logs of the wall; for the hut within was dry as tinder. The leeward wall soon became a solid sheet of flame.

As all drew back from the blazing hut, a second band of vikings came shouting through the forest, guided by the horns. Hot after these ran half a hundred Franks and Northmen, with Fulrad, the valiant old churchman, at their head, brandishing a boar-spear.

At sight of the abbot, Karl beckoned to him, and called imperiously for the shouting to cease. When both Franks and vikings had gathered in a ring of wondering listeners, he laid his hand on Olvir's shoulder, and raised his voice high and clear above the uproar of the storm.

"Listen, liegemen and vikings! It is fitting that friends should return gift for gift. This day my Dane hawk has given to me a gift beyond price,--the lives of my queen and children. Had not the hero turned back to play with death in the teeth of the wolf-pack, all my loved ones would have met their fate on the frozen stream. Now, therefore, I pledge to the son of Thorbiorn the hand of my daughter Rothada, and, that none may doubt my faith, the maiden shall plight her troth with the hero. Whenever he has fulfilled the terms I have set for him, they shall wed. Fulrad will receive their vows."

A great shout of mingled astonishment and delight burst from the lips of the snow-shrouded onlookers. But all fell silent again as Olvir and Rothada clasped hands.

So, their hearts brimming over with love and joy, sea-king and king's daughter plighted their troth before the priest, in the midst of the swirling storm. Out of the jaws of the wolf-pack, they had won not only life, but joy.

When the vows were spoken, and the abbot had blessed the betrothed, the Franks joined full-voiced in the shouts of the vikings. For the time at least there was only one among all present who did not share in the joy of the lovers. While all others pressed forward about them, Fastrada alone drew back, cold and silent, and with another look than friendliness in her narrow-lidded gaze.

Deft hands had already lashed together spear-shafts and branches for litters to bear the women; and now Hildegarde and the two maidens were placed on the swaying seats. Brawny warriors perched the king's sons on their shoulders; and all marched away through the whirling snow, to the accompaniment of blaring horns and the wild shouts of the vikings.