“Well, and overwell, lord.”
“Why, then, wouldst thou leave me? I have this in my mind—to bring thee to great honour. See, now, there is a fair lady in this court, and in her veins runs blood that even an Iceland viking might be proud to mate with. She has great lands, and, mayhap, she shall have more. Canst thou not find a home on them, thinkest thou, Brighteyes?”
“In Iceland only I am at home, lord,” said Eric.
Then the King was wroth, and bade him begone when it pleased him, and Eric bowed before him and went out.
Two days afterwards, while Eric was walking in the Palace gardens he met the Lady Elfrida face to face. She held white flowers in her hand, and she was fair to see and pale as the flowers she bore.
He greeted her, and, after a while, she spoke to him in a gentle voice: “They say that thou goest from England, Brighteyes?” she said.
“Yes, lady; I go,” he answered.
She looked on him once and twice and then burst out weeping. “Why goest thou hence to that cold land of thine?” she sobbed—“that hateful land of snow and ice! Is not England good enough for thee?”
“I am at home there, lady, and there my mother waits me.”
“‘There thy mother waits thee,’ Eric?—say, does a maid called Gudruda the Fair wait thee there also?”