"I am not one to forget the maid," grumbled Floki. "But a hundred men can hold the keep while we go out to the blood-game."
"No," broke in Olvir, harshly. "Far rather would I meet death than swallow the taunts of that poisoner. Yet Karl the Frank gave over this keep into my charge, and I hold the hard stones fast till Karl the Frank comes again. Wait till he knocks at the burg gates. It will then be for us to go out and open them to him."
A smile of terrible joy lit up the face of the sea-king, and he turned eagerly to the southward, as though he already saw the vanguard of the Frankish host.
CHAPTER XXIV
With guile the great one
Would they beguile.
SONG OF ATLI.
When it became known through the citadel that there would be no sorties against the Asiamen until the coming of the Frankish host, the towers at once were crowded with watchers, all gazing southward along the Ebro road. But a bitter disappointment lay before the war-eager vikings.
Toward mid-afternoon there was a great stir in the Saracen quarters, and soon all the Moslem folk of the burg--mounted and afoot, or drawn in their heavy-laden ox-carts--began to move in a steady stream along the streets and out through the Arga Gate. Before nightfall the last cart had creaked over the Arga bridge, and was trailing away on the Astorga road.
Floki was like a baited bear.