With an impatient shrug the King moved on again. “It has happened, then, that the news has spread? I wonder whether they are troubling themselves most for fear that I shall undertake this fight and get killed, or for fear that I shall turn back from it and the war will be obliged to go on. And I should be glad if I knew what expectation was uppermost in the Gainer’s mind when he made the plan. For certainly one sees his claw behind the pen.”
“May wolves tear him!” Rothgar burst out. “Two kings he has used as oaten pipes, but never did I think that you would make the third.”
Canute’s foot jarred upon the earth; his face was suddenly aflame. “And never will I, while my head remains above ground! Now are you even more rash than you are wont! It is I who play on him, not he on me. Through him, as through a pipe, I have tempted Edmund on; and through him, as through a pipe, I have called Edmund off; and as with a broken pipe I shall part with him when I am done,—and think it no falseness either, since I know for certain that it is the fate he has in store for me, as soon as I cease to be gainful for him.” The worst of the young chief’s nature showed for an instant in the smile that widened his nostrils. Then it gave way to another flash of temper. “Nor am I a pipe for your plaything, either. What! Am I to be as a child between you and Thorkel, that each time I follow the advice of one of you, I am to get a tongue-lashing from the other? Have you not got it into your head that I am your King?”
Rothgar gave a short laugh. “I do not know if I have got it into my head or not,” he said; “but I am certain that my body is aware of your kingship.” He did not even move his eyes toward the stump of his wrist, but Canute turned from him suddenly, his lip caught in his teeth, and once more strode up and down the narrow space.
After the fourth round, he stopped and laid his hands affectionately upon his foster-brother’s shoulders. “Too long have we endured each other’s roughness, comrade, for you to think that unfriendliness is in my mind because I foam over in this way. I tell you, you would not wonder at it if you knew the state of my feelings. And I will not conceal it that I am glad you have come to share them—though I have not the intention to heed a word of your advice,” he added, half laughing, half threatening. Pushing the other down upon the rough bunk, he seated himself beside him, his elbows on his knees, his chin cupped in his palms.
“The host is full of impatience; and I am weary unto madness. Never do we come to any end, nor ever shall until that time when the wolf shall catch the sun! I have nowhere heard of a more foolish war than this. It was in my mind, as you came in, that I would send a favorable answer to the Englishman and get the matter decided, one way or another.”
Even Randalin uttered a cry; and Rothgar caught his King by the arm as though to snatch him out of bodily peril. “Only one way would be possible, Canute! Your waist is not so big as one of his arms. His sword would cleave you as if it cut water.”
Half laughing, but more resentful, the King freed himself. “Now do you hold my power so lightly? More than once have I gotten under your guard. If skill could accomplish anything, you would not have to wait long for what I should fix upon.” He broke off with a shrug and flung himself back upon the straw of the bunk. “Let us speak of something else,” he said. “What did the boy say about having seen Edmund?”
Somewhat ramblingly, as uncertain of his interest, Randalin told him of her glimpse of the Ironside; and he listened lying back on the straw, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. She had begun to think he had forgotten her, when all at once he shot out a swift question: “Did you never find out what the wool was that Edric Jarl pulled over his eyes?”
“Not unless one could guess it from what King Edmund said, lord,—that the Jarl had found them so much cleverer than he expected that his victory was without relish to him, and he was desirous to regain their friendship.”