"I cannot bear this longer!" he muttered, and his hand grasped the dagger in his belt. But he hesitated, the weapon half drawn.
"Woman's love is not all of life,--I have yet my brother," he said; and the dagger clicked back in its sheath.
It was then that Roland burst from the thicket.
"Ward yourself, wretch!" he roared; and the great Norse sword whirled about his head.
With the instinctive readiness of his outlaw uprearing, Olvir sprang aside and tore Al-hatif from its sheath. As swiftly, he wheeled to confront his maddened assailant; and then he realized who that assailant was.
"Roland!" he cried, and he flung his sword to the ground.
The act checked the Frank's attack. Even at the height of his rage, he could not strike down his foe unarmed.
"Ward yourself! ward yourself, that I may slay you in fair fight!" he cried hoarsely.
Olvir only folded his arms and gazed unflinchingly into the Frank's face.
"The troth of a woman,--the oath of a Frank!" he said coldly. "To my sword-brother I gave my father's sword to cleave my own head. It would seem that Ironbiter is fated to prove my bane."