The woman's head was uncovered, and Olvir stared with keen curiosity at her black hair and aquiline features. Her dark oval face still showed traces of great beauty; but age and witch-deeds had stained and withered her cheeks and caused the once beautiful eyes to sink deep into their sockets. Even without the weasels, the look of malignant joy on the witch's face would have set most hearts to quaking. But Olvir was smiling, half pityingly, at the dread which even the king had betrayed, when the witch chanced to turn so that the firelight struck upon her cheek. At the sight he started and almost cried out. It seemed to him that a red adder had thrust up from beneath the woman's neckband and laid its venomous head upon her cheek. When he stared more closely, however, he saw that the snake-head, though perfect in outline, was only a crimson blotch upon the witch's skin. He drew back with a grim laugh.
"No wonder she hid her face," he muttered. "What woman would not, with such a mark? But now--ho, lord king; why do we linger? Let us hasten in."
"In!" rejoined Gerold,--"a witch den!"
"She is Fastrada's mother,--the wife of Count Rudulf. She will gladly give hearth-cheer to her husband's lord. Come."
"Hold, Olvir. If we go, I lead," said Karl; and he thrust ahead to the hut door. He found the latch-string in and the door fast barred. His knock must have resounded through the narrow room like the beating of a hammer; but though he waited for an answer, all was silence within.
The king did not knock again. Setting down the half-frozen boy from his shoulder, he threw his weight against the door. Before the shock, it flew violently inwards, its bar snapped short in the socket. Having thus cleared the way, the king drew Hildegarde and the boy to him, and stooped to pass beneath the lintel. As the others pushed after him into the warm interior, they saw Fastrada start up and stand glaring at them with the horror of one who looks upon some grisly spectre.
The Wend woman had shrouded herself about in her grey cloak, and sat quietly in her place, staring at the forceful guests from the depths of her hood. Of the weasels nothing was to be seen but a pair of fiery little eyes peering out from the folds of the cloak upon her bosom. The witch was the first to speak.
"Odin bear witness," she said in a tone of quiet scorn. "It is very fitting that he who thus breaks in on helpless women calls himself King of the Franks."
"And over-lord of your lord, Wend wife. Make way by the fire for us."
"I make way for no one,--much less for Pepin's son," came back the hissing retort.