“But what, child?”
“I did not understand clearly just what she meant. She seemed to mislike questions else I would have asked further.”
“She told thee all she would without questions,” returned the dame. “Often do I consult her, and always hath it been as she hath said. But Denewulf wots not of it.”
“Tell me of her,” said Egwina. “Hath she always been a wicca? There seemed to me to be much of the noble about her, and she spake not as do the ceorls.”
“A vala was she in her own land,” returned Adiva. “A vala, honored by chiefs and revered by the nation, who foretold the future to heroes. Even the king of her land hath led her to the high seat in the hall where he wished to consult her. Now doth she read the runes and consult her galdra for the vulgar. But of all that e’er I met, Gunnehilde reads truest the wizard’s lore.”
Soon they drew near the cabin of Denewulf. When within a short distance of the hut, the hum of voices floated out upon the air. The dame turned a triumphant look upon the maiden.
“Did I not tell thee? True are the words of Gunnehilde. Now shall we know who the stranger be. ‘’Ere set of sun,’ she said, and that is not far distant. And guests many! I wonder who they are? Come, let us hasten!”
She quickened her steps, and the maiden must perforce do the same. In haste, Adiva threw open the door, and paused at the sight which met her gaze.
A half dozen Saxons were grouped about the deal table in easy attitudes. Wilfred, the stranger, sate a little apart attentively observant of them. Denewulf was busily serving the guests with mead. By the costly fur-lined gonnas and the golden-hilted swords, Adiva knew them to be nobles.
“By my troth!” cried one of the youths merrily as the dame and the maiden entered, “I have not seen so fair a face in days. Mickle and sore would it repent me should I leave it without a kiss. A mancus, fair maiden, for such favor.”