“Fare as it shall be meted to you by the Asir, King Alsi,” he said, “for at least Loki loves craft.”
Then he turned to me, and asked hurriedly where we should go if we must leave thus.
“To Grimsby,” I said. “That is home.”
Alsi spoke to the princess now, and maybe it was as well that he did not offer so much as his hand. Wise was he in his way.
“Farewell, niece,” he said; “all this shall come shortly before the Witan of Ethelwald’s folk.”
“Farewell, uncle,” she answered calmly. “That is a matter which I will see to myself. You have carried out your oath to the letter, so far, and now it remains that you should leave the government of the realm to me.”
With that she put her hand on Havelok’s arm.
“Come, husband; we have heard that the horses wait. Let us be gone.”
And then in a quick whisper she added, as if nigh overdone, “Take me hence quickly, for I may not bear more.”
They wasted no more words; and through a lane of folk, who blessed them, those two went to the great door down the long hall, and I followed, and Berthun and the nurse came after me. One flung the door open; and on the steps, all unaware of what had happened, lounged Mord, waiting, and up and down on the green the grooms led the horses of the princess—six in all. On two were packed her goods, and the third had a pack saddle that waited for the bags that held her dowry. The other three were for herself and Mord and the nurse. There was not one for Havelok.