Chafing at her idleness, she began to wander in the woodland near the house, observing the caution that had been given her of not straying too far away for fear of the wolves or bears with which the forest was filled. One afternoon, she had walked somewhat farther than usual, and, feeling the need of rest, flung herself down upon the sward under the spreading branches of an oak tree. She had lain so but a short while when she heard voices.
Out from among the trees there came the figures of two persons: a young man, very fair, and to all appearances a Saxon, and a girl, a Dane. Egwina sat up and surveyed the two with some curiosity which was reciprocated by the man and the girl, for they stopped and looked at her with surprise.
“Come, Siegbert,” said the Danish girl, “let us advance and see who the maiden is.” She started forward as she spoke, and the young man, called Siegbert, supported her form carefully.
Egwina rose, and awaited their coming, rejoicing in the fact that she was at last going to meet with some young folk near her own age.
“Why, it is the skald maiden!” exclaimed the Danish girl, as she drew near to the Saxon maiden.
“Hilda, daughter of Guthrum!” exclaimed Egwina in turn.
“Yes; it is Hilda. What dost thou here?” cried the king’s daughter. “I thought that thou wert skald maiden to King Alfred? Thou wert with him when he entered the camp at Westbury.”
“True,” answered Egwina, briefly. “Gleemaidens as well as gleemen are in many places. To-day they serve one lord; to-morrow they chant the praises of another.”
“Sit we down,” commanded the Danish girl imperiously. “Much doth it tire me to stand, and I would talk with thee.”
The young man spread a mantle upon the sward, and Hilda sank down upon it. Egwina resumed her seat, looking at the Saxon attendant as she did so. Well worthy of attention was he.