“I cannot believe it,” he said harshly. “You are all alike, you women, with your cat-like purrings and tricksy eyes that surpass most other things in deceit. I do not deny both that you know well how to feign and that I would like to believe you, but you must prove it first before I do.”
“How can I do that, lord?” she said helplessly; but shrank, the next moment, as she saw that already he had a plan in his mind. Moving his horse a step nearer, he bent toward her triumphantly. “I will send for the Englishman, in your name—or the name you wore—and you shall meet him in my presence, and I shall be able to tell from his manner whether or not you have spoken truthfully.”
Send for him! At the very thought her face was ecstatic with happiness. Then she clasped her hands in dismay. “But not if I must continue in these garments, lord! You can decide over my fate, but I will never face him again in anything but woman’s weeds.”
The King frowned. “Strangely do you speak; as if I did not know what is befitting a Danish woman that I would allow one who is noble-born in all her kindred to be treated disgracefully after I had taken her into my wardership!”
A while longer he sat there, watching her changeful face with its lovely mouth and the eyes that some trick of light and shade had deepened to the purple of an iris petal’s markings; and the sight seemed to gentle his mood.
“I should like to reconcile myself to you,” he said slowly. “Since first you came before me and showed by your entreaty that you thought me something besides an animal, I have felt friendliness toward you. And I should like to believe that some woman loves some man as you say you love this Englishman.” Out of the very wishfulness of his voice, a terrible menace spoke: “I should like it so much that I shall neither spare you in word nor deed if you have deceived me!” Then once more his manner softened. “Yet my mind feels a kind of faith toward you. I shall try you, to make sure, but until you have proved that you are unworthy of it, I will not keep you out of my friendship.” Drawing off his glove, he stretched forth his hand. “You may find that a man’s harshness is little worse than a woman’s guile,” he said bitterly.
Dimly guessing what was in his mind, she dared not trust herself to words but told her gratitude with her eyes, as she returned his clasp. Then he sent her back by the one semblance of a path which ran through the forest, and himself rode on to his hunters.
CHAPTER XXI. With The Jotun as Chamberlain
All doorways,
Before going forward,
Should be looked to;
For difficult it is to know
Where foes may sit
Within a dwelling.
Hávamál.
“Once more, Lord Sebert, be exhorted to turn back,” old Morcard spurred forward to offer a last remonstrance as city gates yawned before them. “Even if the message be genuine, you are putting your life in peril. If men speak rightly, Gloucester Town is no better than a camp of carousing Danes. Is it likely that they care enough about this peace to stick at so small a thing as man-slaying?”