The mare's gentle canter soon covered the distance to the assembling-ground of the national council. But when she left the last bit of coppice, young Karl, who held the reins, turned her away from the immense gathering of freemen to a little grove that shaded a company of priests, court-officials, and war-counts. The royal standard, planted before the grove, marked the presence of the king. Here, in fact, was the inner council of the Frankish national assembly, whence the sovereign, surrounded by his high liegemen, both lay and ecclesiastical, sent over his decrees to be confirmed by the voice of the freemen.
When Zora approached the grove, the king was reading from a long scroll, and his audience had eye and ear only for the royal speaker. Not until Zora thrust her head over Count Amalwin's heavy shoulder, were the new-comers perceived. The Saxon turned with a frown, to start back and stare at the Northman, open-mouthed. Olvir leaned toward him, smiling.
"So, Saxon," he said quietly, "what do you now say of my mare, and what of her master? We crossed Rhine Stream, and more,--I held your Grey Wolf by the throat."
"How--Rudulf!" shouted Amalwin, forgetting all else in his surprise.
The cry rang through the grove like an alarm, and king, counts, and priests alike turned to stare at the intruders. The first look on many faces was one of resentment; but then, just beyond the oaken throne, Roland sprang up and came running with a cry of greeting: "Olvir! Olvir! Welcome back again!"
Close after him ran Liutrad and Gerold, while from all sides the liegemen pressed forward with excited shouts: "The Dane! It is the Dane count! He cannot have gone and come already! Saint Michael, what a mare!"
Then Gerold caught Zora's bridle, while behind him Roland and Liutrad clasped Olvir by the hands. So escorted, with the king's son before him and the king's daughter at his back, the young Northman rode forward to the very edge of the dais. There his friends stepped aside, and Olvir would have dismounted. But Karl stayed him with a gesture, and came forward to lay his great palm on Zora's forehead.
"By the King of Heaven," he muttered, "well did I name you my Dane hawk! Six and twenty days ago you rode northward. Have you, in truth, crossed the Rhine?"
"To Fulda and beyond, lord king," replied Olvir; "to the lair of the Grey Wolf."
"Beyond Fulda! And how did the old count greet you?"