A dozen courtiers ran to fetch brands from the nearest fire. As they returned, a gnarl-faced Vascon stepped forward in the light of their torches, and knelt to present to the king a sealed parchment. Fulrad took the message, and, at a sign from Karl, broke the seal. But the king turned to the messenger, who had risen and was about to slip away.
"Hold, man," he said. "Where do you come from?"
The Vascon halted, and stood hesitating, as though he but partly understood the question. Then he answered in a harsh voice: "Casseneuil, Frank king."
"You have rendered good service," said Karl. "Our steward shall see to it that you have fitting reward."
A strange smile passed across the Vascon's stolid face, like a flicker of the torchlight, and he turned quietly away into the darkness. Olvir caught the man's look, but then his attention was drawn by Abbot Fulrad.
"Here are three several messages, sire," observed the priest. "The first is from Count Teutoric, who sends word that Rudulf is gone against the Sorbs; that the Saxons are ravaging in the Rhinegau, and that he is marching against them with all speed from the Frisian Mark. Below, in Worad's hand, is word that he and Gerold had met the messenger near Soissones, and would press on with utmost haste to levy warriors and attack the rebels. Last of all, word noted at Casseneuil, that the queen is safely delivered of twin sons, alike unblemished and vigorous."
"Praised be the Holy Mother!" murmured Karl, and for a while he sat musing, his face aglow with love and tender pride.
The songs of his distant warriors, who were celebrating their last night on the southern slope of the mountains by a wassail-feast, presently aroused the king. He glanced up at the waiting ring of lords, and signed to Anselm and Abbot Fulrad.
"Come within," he said. "Let wax tapers be brought, and send for my Dane scribe Liutrad."
Roland sprang back into the saddle and rode with Olvir across the valley to where Rothada sat in a ring of torches, surrounded by a little court of the younger courtiers. Liutrad, though by no means willing, ran to do the king's bidding, while the merry companions he left behind fell suddenly silent with the coming of the high-counts. But Rothada welcomed with delight both her kinsman and Olvir, and when the war-famed heroes showed a willingness to lay aside their dignity and join in the games, all was soon merry again with the court of the king's daughter.