"I had rather talk with Odin! We of the forest have but one tongue with which to speak to traitors; it is of steel."
"Wittikind is dogwise," replied Olvir, and he raised Al-hatif to thrust the blade into its sheath. "Here is my answer to the taunts of the war-earl. Odin bids us slay our foe by guile or by force; but, in the name of the White Christ, I now tell you to go free."
"Teu! Is it not enough shame that a viking should sell his sword? Must he mock an unarmed foe?"
"Odin bear witness--the son of Wanekind is free."
Wittikind stared down intently into the grave, almost solemn face of the Northman, and his look softened.
"How is this, viking?" he demanded. "Would you undo the scathe you have wrought upon my forest-folk?"
"The blood of your warriors brings me no joy, hero. Yet I am the man of Pepin's son, and so must do his bidding. A year since I should have broken the bond, had not Karl shown to me the need for this bloody war. Many could tell you what little love I bear the Christian priests, and I am not one to rejoice at the growing serfdom among the Franks; yet I see that both Frank priest and Frank king would bring to your land more than they would take away,--your boasted freedom is the freedom of the wolf-pack, without order or true bond. This bitter day has proved that all the forces of your forest tribes cannot hope to check the power of the Frank. Why, then, drag on with a hopeless war?--why bring upon your land fire and steel and famine?"
"I would rather choose death than thraldom," rejoined Wittikind.
"Who speaks for thraldom? For a time there would be a double yoke on the necks of your people; but the son of Pepin will not reign for all time, and who so dog-wise as to hold that one as mighty as he will sit in the high-seat after he has gone? I foresee that the yoke of kingship will then be light, and the Saxon folk can choose for themselves whether they will any longer bear the yoke of the priests."
"So--now I see. I am to go free, if I will sell my folk into thraldom."