“Where is Randalin? I sent the garments to her an hour ago. She stands in need of a taste of Teboen’s rod to teach her promptness.”
Little Dearwyn, watching the doorway with fluttering color, cried out eagerly, “Here she is, lady!”
There she was, in truth, standing on the threshold with crimson cheeks and flashing eyes. At the sight of her every huntsman uttered a whistle of amazement, then settled into an admiring stare; and Canute, glancing over his shoulder, laughed outright.
“What!” he said. “Have you tired of woman’s clothes already?”
For, once more, Frode’s daughter was attired in a man’s short tunic and long silken hose. It was a suit much richer than the old one, since silver embroidery banded the blue, and precious furs lined the cloak; but that fact was evidently of little comfort to her, as her eyes were full of angry tears, and she deigned the King no answer whatever.
“I am obliged to pay dearly for your amusement, lady,” she said bitterly.
Elfgiva chimed her bell-like laughter. “I will not deny that you pay liberally for my trouble, sweet. Does it not add spice to her stories, maidens, to see her habited thus? She looks like one of the fairy lords Teboen is wont to sing of.”
“She holds her head like Emma of Normandy,” the King said absently.
In wide-eyed surprise, Elfgiva looked up at him. “Ethelred’s widow? Never did I hear that you had seen her! Why has this been passed over in silence? I have abundance of questions to ask about her garments and her appearance. When saw you her? And where?”
Canute stirred uneasily. “It is not worth a hearing. I spoke but a few words with her, about ransoms, the time that I sat before London. And I remember only that her bearing was noble and her countenance most handsome, such as I had never seen before, nor did I think that there could be any woman so queenlike.” Because he did not choose to say more, or because some wrinkle in Elfgiva’s satin brow warned him off, he turned hastily to another topic. “Foolishly do we linger, when we have none too much time to get to covert. Do you still want your way about accompanying us? I have warned you that a boar hunt is little like hawking; nor do Northmen stand in one spot and wait for game to come to them.”