Thereat Werbode laughed.
"Faith," he said, "if every thrall to whom I have given a black eye or so has a claim on me--"
But his words went on unheard as far as I was concerned. I seemed to have the very smell of the smoke of burning Weymouth in my nostrils, and the wild rowing song came back to me. I minded the man well, and it went to my heart to see the free Danish warrior tied here at the mercy of this evil-eyed slaver, for I knew that he was as free born as myself.
I turned sharply on the merchant, and asked him how it came about that he had this man for sale.
"He is a freeman, and I know him," I said.
Nevertheless it came into my mind that he had been taken prisoner at the time of some such landing as that wherein I had first seen him.
"He is a shipwrecked foreigner, lord," was the answer; "a masterless man whom I bought from the Lindsey thane on whose manor shore he was stranded."
But it seemed to me that there was a look of fear in the eyes of this slave trader. It came when I, whom he had taken for a Frank noble from my dress, spoke to him in good Wessex. Whereby I had a shrewd guess that all was not so fair and lawful as he would make it seem.
"He lies," growled the Dane. "Some thrall picked me up, and this man took me from him. He was on the prowl for castaways on the morn of the storm. Nigh dead I was, or would have fought."
He spoke low and quickly, and the trader seemed not to understand his Danish. But I saw that he spoke the truth.