Part 7 (1/2)

”A wondrous strong blow!” murmured Valdemar. ”But I see that it was struck from the front. How came it that Klerkon could not defend himself?”

”Little time had he for that,” answered the viking, ”for the lad fell upon him with the quickness of an eagle's swoop, and although my master was well armed, yet he could not raise his sword ere he fell dead at our feet, and then Ole turned and fled with such speed that none could follow him.”

”Such an act as this,” said the king, ”cannot have been without some cause. What reason of enmity was there between this boy and Klerkon?”

”No reason but wanton mischief,” answered the warrior. ”It was a causeless murder, and we claim the full and lawful punishment.”

”Justice shall be done,” returned the king. ”But I must first know what the peace breaker may have to say in his own defence. I beg you, therefore, to keep truce until the sunrise, when the penalty shall be adjudged.”

At hearing this promise the crowd dispersed in peace. Many grumbled that the customary sentence of death had not been instantly p.r.o.nounced.

But in causing this delay King Valdemar was but yielding to the pleadings of the queen, who had implored him to spare the life of the handsome young murderer, or at the least to save him from the fury of the vikings.

When the crowd had gone from the courtyard Allogia returned to the hall in which the steward and Olaf had been kept under the protection of the guards. Dismissing the men, she turned to Sigurd Erikson.

”You have asked me to save the boy's life, hersir,” said she, ”but, alas! I cannot do it. All that the king will do is to give a few hours'

respite. At sunrise the law is to take its course, and much do I fear that its course will be death.”

Olaf heard her words, but did not show any fear of the expected punishment. It seemed, indeed, that he had become suddenly hard of heart and dauntless, as though he thought that the killing of a man was a matter to be proud of. Certainly, in his own mind, he did not look upon the taking of Klerkon's life as an act of guilt deserving punishment. He recalled what he had seen on the viking s.h.i.+p years before. The old man Thoralf had fallen to Klerkon's share in the dividing of booty. Thoralf had held little Olaf by the hand as they stood apart on the s.h.i.+p's deck, and Klerkon had come up to them and roughly separated them, flinging Olaf across to where young Thorgils stood. Then, tearing off Thoralf's cloak, the viking had said: ”Little use is there in an old toothless hound, but his flesh may serve as food for the fishes;” and, drawing his sword, he had given the aged man his death blow and tilted him over into the sea. So Olaf and Thorgils had sworn to take vengeance upon this viking, and Olaf had now fulfilled his vow.

The queen came nearer to Olaf, and looked at him tenderly. ”It is a great pity,” said she, ”that one so fair should be doomed to die before he has grown to manhood. It might be that with good training he would become a very famous warrior, and I would gladly see him enlisted in the service of the king.”

She broke off and turned to Sigurd. ”Hersir Sigurd,” she said, looking keenly into the steward's face, ”I have noticed many times that you take a more than common interest in this boy. Even now, when he has broken the law of the land, it is you who take it upon yourself to plead his cause. It must surely be that you have powerful reasons for keeping him from harm. Whose son is he? Of what kin is he? It is but right that I should know.”

Sigurd demurred, remembering that it was forbidden by the law of the land that any king born person should live in Gardarike, except with the king's permission. He thought that it would go very ill with himself if Olaf's kingly birth should be known.

”Lady, I cannot tell you,” he murmured.

”Would you then rather that the boy should die?” she asked with anger in her tone.

”Not so,” answered Sigurd, drawing himself up to his full height. ”If the boy is to be condemned to death, then I will offer to take the punishment in his stead.”

The queen glanced at him quietly.

”If that be so,” said she, ”then the sacrifice of your own life can only be taken as showing that you count the boy of more value to the world than yourself.” She paused for a moment, then added: ”I am your queen, Hersir Sigurd, and I command you to tell me what I ask. What is the boy's true name, and what is his parentage?”

She went across to the side of the great fireplace, and, seating herself in one of the large oaken chairs, signed to Sigurd and Olaf to approach her. Then, taking up an end of the silken robe upon which she had before been working, she threaded her needle.

”I am ready,” she said.

So Sigurd, seeing that there was no way out of his difficulty and hoping that the telling of his secret might after all be of benefit to Olaf, obeyed the queen's behest, relating the story of the kings of Norway and showing how this boy, Olaf, the slayer of Klerkon, was descended in a direct line from the great King Harald Fairhair.

CHAPTER V: THE STORY OP THE NORSE KINGS.

”On a time very long ago,” began Sigurd, as he sat beside Olaf on a bench facing Queen Allogia, ”there reigned in the south of Norway a young king named Halfdan the Swarthy. His realm was not large, for the country was at that time divided into many districts, each having its independent king. But, by warfare and by fortunate marriage, Halfdan soon increased the possessions which his father had left to him, so that he became the mightiest king in all the land. The name of his wife was Queen Ragnhild, who was very beautiful, and they had a son whom they named Harald.

”This Harald grew to be a very handsome boy, tall and strong and of great intelligence. He was fond of manly sports, and his skill and beauty brought him the favour and admiration of all men of the northland. Well, when Harald was still a youth of ten winters, his father was one day crossing the ice on the Randsfjord when the ice broke under him and he was drowned, so his kingdom fell to his son. The kings whom Halfdan the Swarthy had conquered then bethought them that they might win back what lands they had lost, and they accordingly made war against the young king. Many battles were fought, but Harald was always victorious. Instead of yielding to his enemies he soon extended his dominions until they stretched as far north as Orkadale. And then he was content.”

Sigurd here raised his eyes and looked across at Allogia as she silently plied her busy needle.