“It occurs to me, lord,” he said, “that you are not carrying out your share of that song! Here am I, a man of no more than free birth—since no one gets his rank from his mother—who have dared to love a ruler’s daughter. Why do you not rage against it, as is to be expected? I swear an oath that I would rather endure your wrath for my boldness than continue this talk about my weakness.”
“That choice is less hero-like than it sounds, my friend,” Helvin answered gravely. “You do yourself wrong if you do not know that since Time’s morning a man whom Odin has led into the high-seat of skaldship has been held the equal of any blood. And you do me wrong to think that I should forget the nobleness of your mind, whatever your rank. Is it not even because I love you as the very eyes in my head that I cannot bear to see you bend your neck to a pride-crazed woman?”
He took his foot down from the coffer to face the song-maker fairly.
“Oh my comrade, what shall I do to ease you?” he said. “Will you that I should grapple with you and pluck out the barb, though your heart-roots come with it? Or are there any kindly services I might do to heal the flesh and let the thing remain imbedded and forgotten? Do you prescribe now for my love,—I swear no dose shall be too bitter. Though that course be not so good, I would still go to her myself on your behalf, were there hope that she had a heart in her bosom to answer when one knocked.”
“It is not that she has not a heart, lord. It is that I am not high enough to reach the bolt upon its door,” Randvar answered sadly. He wrung the hand that had clasped his, then threw himself down upon the chest and buried his face in his palms. His words came disjointedly.
“Think only what her love would be like, who is so steadfast in her friendship! Had you seen her that day of the Treaty when she came upon me in my bonds—! Why do I rail at her pride, when I would not have her bright head held one jot lower? When Mord turned upon me, I had her as my shield—Lord, when Olaf came against me with his knife, she closed with him! Her slim fingers twined vinelike around the great hole of his wrist. And one of her long braids flew out as she whirled and brushed like a bird’s wing across my lips! Likely it is the last time they will ever feel it.” He got up suddenly and resumed his walking, too deep in wretchedness to heed the quiver of mocking laughter to which Helvin was stirred.
“Think only what her love of her brother must be like, who was so cool-witted while she thought he was being slaughtered!” Starkad’s son murmured.
As swiftly as the mood came, so swiftly it passed. Stepping forward, he began to move beside his friend, speaking indulgently:
“Be of good cheer, comrade,—I foresee now that you shall even kiss her lips if you will.”
Randvar came to himself with a start, and stopped short in anger. “Lord, there are some remedies that even you may not try upon me. If this is done to deride—” His manner changed as he met the gentleness of the gray eyes. “Bear with me! I know you mean me only good. But I cannot see your cheer.”