"It was needful to decide the matter ere you left the castle," replied Christopher eagerly. "I, for my part, had no ground for doubt. I have shown I feared not to witness the fall of the traitor's head, as your Drost can affirm, if he hath come to his senses."
"He is now quite collected," answered the king. "I know he walked in his sleep last night, and gave thee a start by my door."
"Ay, indeed! hath he told you of that pleasant adventure!" said the junker, starting and changing colour. "Had he been in his right senses, I would have demanded that he be declared infamous for the audacious outrage."
"As I have heard the circumstance, he is excused: thy alarm he hath also accounted for to me."
"How mean ye?" asked Christopher, in the greatest anxiety.
"Truly, it is not good to return to one's couch with such a bloody spectacle before one's eyes," said the king, with not unsympathising glance at the junker pale and agitated countenance. "Be not ashamed of it, Christopher! mayhap it does thy heart honour--Thou wert sick at heart, and greatly moved by the sight of thine aged servant's execution Aagé supposed. I see myself how it hath taken hold on thee. It is the first death-warrant thou hast sealed--I know by experience such acts excite peculiar and painful feelings."
As the king said these words the junker's countenance seemed suddenly to brighten, and he again breathed more freely. "In truth, my royal brother," he said, hastily while a deep crimson flush succeeded to his former paleness, "the stupid fellow was a brave man, notwithstanding! It was not the most agreeable duty you put upon me. I was in some sort a party concerned; but I was perfectly right; no one could know my criminal servant as well as I; and the sentence was passed according to law and justice, by impartial men. Your Drost is an excellent knight," he added, "but somewhat disposed to be visionary: he is devoted to you, however, and I have nought against him, on account of his foolish dreamings."
Count Henrick and Margrave Waldemar now approached the royal brothers, and the conversation turned on indifferent topics. The procession proceeded on the road to Korsóer, from whence the king intended to cross the Belts, in order to join the Marsk, and the forces which were to march against the turbulent dukes of Slesvig.
At the famous sea-fight of Grönsund, the young King Eric had gained a decided victory over these haughty princes, who frequently sought to withdraw their allegiance to the Danish crown, and since the regicide of Eric Glipping had secretly, as well as openly, made common cause with the foes of the country and the outlawed regicides. By this victory the king had indeed gained a high reputation with the dukes as well as with the neighbouring northern powers, and the princes of north Germany; but the quarrel with the archbishop and the Romish see, and still more the king's excommunication at Sjöborg, had given all his foes courage, and renewed their hopes of shaking his throne, and frustrating his bold projects. It was feared, not without reason, that the young high-spirited King of Denmark, who now appeared as though he would defy ban and interdict, might possibly have a desire to regain the influence and power won by the great Waldemar the Victorious in Germany. That monarch's chivalrous character, and the lustre his conquests had shed on the Danish name, seemed early to have inspired his bold descendant with the wish to tread in the paths of his renowned ancestor, and a glorious reputation like that of Waldemar the Victorious was assuredly the secret wish of Eric's heart, though he lived in a time and under circumstances which demanded no ordinary degree of power and wisdom, in a sovereign, even to save the country from downfall, and preserve his own life and crown.
The renewed demands of the dukes, and the revival of long-accommodated differences, but, especially, tidings of the outlaws having again found protection and shelter in Slesvig, had in a great measure induced the king to take up arms; and since the archbishop's flight, he had become much more precipitate than formerly, and more inclined to carry every thing through by the strong hand. The people well knew but cheerfully tolerated Eric's youthful and often impetuous eagerness, and his liking for chivalrous pomp. His firmness of purpose was indeed often called obstinacy; and it was admitted he was not altogether free from an excessive love of show, but from his childhood he had been the people's darling, and such he continued to remain.