“On the broad heath thy bow strings twang,
While high in air the arrows sang;
Thy iron shiner brings to flight
The warder of great Odin’s shrine,
Thou, the long haired son of Odin’s line,
Raises the voice which gives the cheer,
First in the track of wolf or bear.”
She writhed upon the stone ghastly pale, and burst forth again.
“In battle storm ye seek no lee,
With skulking head and bending knee,
Behind the hollow shield.
With eye and hand ye fend the head,
Courage and skill stand in the stead
Of panzer, helm and shield
In Hild’s bloody field.”
“Tell me, Gyda, that of which ye spake,” said the jarl. “Tell me of the Saxon King Alfred. Lives he yet?”
“Westward doth the gray wolf run,
Westward toward the setting sun;
Follow fast and seek ye him
In the forest dank and dim.”
“Then he doth live!” and the jarl turned to his followers. “Heed well the words of the volva. Heed well and fasten them upon your hearts, for to-morrow do we seek for the Saxon king.” He threw a gold ring on the high seid platform, and said, “Knowest the maiden aught of the hiding place of the king?”
“Well knows the maiden
Where Alfred lies hidden.
By that in her bosom
Is she forth on his bidding.”
Hakon started towards the maiden, who nervously clasped her harp to her breast. At this moment the voice of the vala rose high in a shriek and the jarl ran back to hear the frenzied utterances. Egwina felt her hand touched, and a voice whispered:
“Start not, maiden, nor tremble. I am Ethelred, the youth who beheld thee in the forest with King Alfred. Be of good courage. Thou hast one friend here.”
Egwina turned her head for the moment, and when she did she beheld near her the form of what appeared to be a young Dane. He looked towards her and smiled slightly, and then did she see that it was indeed the Saxon youth. Now hope infused into her heart, and, with better courage, she listened to the ravings of the seid woman.