"And will wait long!" whispered Hardrat in the ear of Fastrada. The girl clutched his sleeve.
"Hark to the king's answer!" she hissed.
But there was no need to strain the ear. Through the gathering night the king's voice rang out, clear and joyful: "Ho, my liegemen, here is honey to sweeten the sour wine! We shall taste of both. We will not linger in the morning for the plodding oxen to overtake us. The sooner the host crosses the pass, the quicker the wains can follow. Hardrat, with the Austrasians and Bavarians, will march an hour before dawn. Roland, with the horse, will wait as foreguard for the treasure and baggage."
"With Roland before and Steward Eggihard in the rear, sire, the treasure could not well be safer," observed Abbot Fulrad.
"There is no question of danger. It is speed we should bear in mind," said Karl.
"Then they must sharpen the goads, sire," remarked Roland. "The host will be lolling about camp in the Nive valley even before Eggihard brings his oxen within view of my waiting riders."
"There will be need, sire, to urge on the drovers," said Count Anselm. "Give me leave to so lend aid."
"A good service, lord judge. Look to it that no pilferers lay hand on goods or gold, to slip away into the forest. Many of the drovers are of Vascon blood. Choose whom you wish to aid in your watch. Who comes?"
"The tidings-bearer, lord king," replied Olvir.
"So. Bring lights."