"What is that to me? If you think you have a charm which will turn me, know that there is none. I've no fear of your metal!"
Cappen threw back his head and sang:
"A lovely lady full oft lies.
The light that lies within her eyes
And lies and lies, in no surprise.
All her unkindness can devise
To trouble hearts that seek the prize
Which is herself, are angel lies—"
"Aaaarrrgh!" It was like thunder drowning him out. The troll-wife turned and went on all fours and poked up the fire with her nose.
Cappen stepped softly around her and touched the girl. She looked up with a little whimper.
"You are Svearek's only daughter, are you not?" he whispered.
"Aye—" She bowed her head, a strengthless despair weighting it down. "The troll stole me away three winters agone. It has tickled her to have a princess for slave—but soon I will roast on her spit, even as ye, brave man—"
"Ridiculous. So fair a lady is meant for another kind of, um, never mind! Has she treated you very ill?"
"She beats me now and again—and I have been so lonely, naught here at all save the troll-wife and I—" The small work-roughened hands clutched desperately at his waist, and she buried her face against his breast.
"Can ye save us?" she gasped. "I fear 'tis for naught ye ventured yer life, bravest of men. I fear we'll soon both sputter on the coals."