"No, Rothada--God forgive me! I came to the battlefield with nothing in my heart but good-will toward the forest-dwellers, and then I thrust my sword among them with wolfish delight."
"Yet you gave assent, Olvir, when my father said that there was no other way to bring about the highest good to the stubborn heathen."
"For the better way was closed long since! Ah, well; let us put the unwelcome thought behind us."
"I, too, might give way to grief, dearest. My brother--"
"The luckless bairn! How is he now?"
"He lies on the couch across; but do not go near. The leech has given him a sleeping draught, and he must not be wakened before dawn. He is still dazed from the blow on his head, and though Kosru gives promise that in time he will recover, he must now have the utmost of care. That is why I must also go when Father Fulrad takes him and Kosru back to Mayence."
"So soon--but I will not complain. Though but for a day or two, Father Fulrad has surely brought me joy!"
"I am glad that you are pleased, dear hero. Now free me, that I may make ready for the evening meal."
Olvir ran his fingers through the girl's tangled tresses, and laughed with a sudden outburst of boyish delight.
"Be seated, king's daughter," he exclaimed. "Yonder is a stool. Seat yourself, and I shall be your tiring-woman."