“You need not think it was lack of friendliness. As well as you, I know that because I have been able to get honor and fine manners for myself is the more reason why I ought to protect and help lesser men, and I have the intention to do so. But the truth is that in these clothes you look so like a dead tree that has got out of a moss-bed and walked in from the forest, that I became too embarrassed at the thought of any one’s remembering that I used to be like you to be able to think of aught else. It was not until afterwards that it crossed my mind that you might feel hurt, and I got ashamed of myself.”
Of a sudden, Randvar began to laugh and pulled the boy up to him and hugged him; and then of a sudden he frowned and held him off at arm’s-length.
“I suppose,” he said, “that is also the explanation why you have not been home to see your kinswomen since the Jarl’s sister picked you out for her page three seasons ago,—not because you do not have love towards them, but because you dislike to be put in mind of the poor way in which you used to live?”
Eric did not answer immediately, but walked a while making embarrassed snatches at the flaming sumacs they were passing.
“I have so little time,” he muttered at last.
The Songsmith looked down at him severely. “Whether your dignity takes it well or not,” he said, “I am going to tell you that I think you in a worse way than the man in the were-wolf story. Every ninth night it happened to him to change his man’s shape for a wolf’s body, but never did he lose his man’s nature. Even when his appetite forced him to prey upon cattle, his man’s eyes looked out of the wolf’s sockets in loathing. You have shed your forest ways for these mincing court manners, but you have changed your manful nature also, that used to have honesty in it, and love of kin. I foresee that as time goes on there will be a harder nut to crack than this which we two have just had a hand in.”
Enough honesty remained in the boy so that he showed himself abashed. Again his voice cajoled, when it came after a long interval of silent plodding.
“I have got love towards my kin. I was going to send good gifts to them the next time a trading-ship went that way. I will send some back by you now, if you are willing to take them. I suppose you fared hither to see Starkad set adrift?”
“To see what?” Randvar repeated, losing sternness in surprise.
A change of subject appeared to be much to Eric’s taste. He launched forth eagerly: