"No need to tell us, my son, how you turned to the arts of peace. You have ruled with wisdom; you have tempered justice with mercy. Few counts give heed to the welfare of those they rule. You, not content with the administration of justice, have aided the landfolk out of your own treasure. The Lombards whom you brought in have shown the folk better methods of tillage, and I hear that our own men have sought to teach the rude shipwrights of Bordeaux your Norse art of shipbuilding. Our lord king will not soon forget such deeds."
"If he approve them, why, then, does he deal so harshly with the Saxons?" demanded Olvir, with sudden heat. "No Frank pays the tithe he has put upon the forest-folk. He has taken away their cherished freedom, and saddled them with stern laws that will goad them to revolt."
"No, no, lad; only to crush out their stubborn heathenism."
"A sight for the heathen fiend-gods!--a world-hero priest-ridden!"
"Saint Michael, no, Olvir!" cried Gerold, and he burst into a boyish laugh. "You 'd not say that had you been with us in Rome. Listen! It is now some five years since one of the learned deacons found a parchment, under seal by the Kaiser Constantine, whom men call the Great, giving to the Holy Father the title to Rome and all Italy. Yet our lord king set aside the claim, and, as you know, caused the Holy Father to crown little Carloman as King of Italy, under the name of Pepin."
"By Thor! those are good tidings. I had not heard that part of the tale, though I heard of the crowning of the bairns. William of Toulouse saw to that. The short-nosed count wrote to me, in the name of King Louis of Aquitania, demanding aid in his war against the Saracens. I sent back word that the Count of the Vascon Mark was not the man of any bairn or of any bairn's nurse."
"We heard of that sending, Olvir, even in the Saxon Mark," said Gerold. "William did not trouble you the second time."
"No; but the shrewd Neustrian waited his chance, as you know. And now, by Thor, I'm done with all that. Like my sea-wolves, I 've sickened of this mild Southland. Ho for the gritting snow and the icy breath of the frost-giant!" and the sea-king thrust over the Raven's tiller to steer out into the open sea.
The voyage Rhineward was very boisterous for the season, and Abbot Fulrad spent much of his time on a cot beneath the Raven's quarter-deck. But Gerold proved himself a better sailor, and after the second day was able to keep his place with Olvir beside the tiller. Standing thus, with the noble ship beneath him racing at the head of the fleet, Gerold could not only comprehend, but could share in the Northman's keen enjoyment of the whistling gale and the high-leaping waves. He felt, as few landsmen might, the wild fascination of the viking life.
But when Olvir began to talk of Trondheim Fiord and the joys of a home visit, Gerold quickly sought to turn his thoughts back to the honors and friendships he had won in Frank Land. The king was eager to see his Dane hawk, and it was not right for Olvir to delay for even a short visit in the North. What might he not expect of the king's favor, when Worad, who was not half so learned, had been raised to the judgment-seat of the Count Palatine? Then there was Liutrad, beloved of all in the king's hall, and one of the foremost pupils in Alcuin's School of the Palace,--ah, yes, Alcuin! Surely Olvir would be eager to meet the famed Anglo-Saxon scholar, whom the king had at last induced to come to his court.