But Karl made no answer. He was staring intently at the lithe warrior in shimmering mail who had leaped up to help Roland across the gangway.
"Ho, Fulrad," he called; "look close at the Dane count's war-gear, and call to mind that old Norse bear Otkar. His mail was the same in every point as this bright falcon's. Can they be kinsmen?"
"Old oak and young ash,--they 're little more alike, sire. But the lad will shortly tell us," remarked Fulrad, as Gerold hastened forward.
The queen's brother mounted the knoll, and knelt to kiss the extended hand of the king.
"Greeting, lad! You return in strange fellowship," remarked Karl, his gaze fixed upon the bright Northman, who was supporting Roland up the bank.
"They are shipmates whom I know your Majesty will gladly welcome," replied Gerold, with fervor. "Never have I seen such warriors! I fell in with them at Bordeaux."
"Bordeaux?"
"I journeyed to the Vascon burg from Fronsac, thinking that my lord would wish to know more of the new walls which Duke Lupus is building."
"Well done! But these Danes?"
"I can thank their count for a quick journey! He comes to you on a strange mission-- But let Roland speak, sire. He owes the Northman freedom and life."