"He will, dear hero!"
"And if not?"
"Then--ah, Christ forgive me! I must break the will of the king my father. I must leave home and friends and father--unblessed!"
"No, little vala; not unblessed," broke in Liutrad, his deep voice trembling. "You shall be wed by a priest of God, who will shrive you of all sin in doing what is just and right."
"Enough," said Olvir. "I hold the pledge of my betrothed. Gerold will lead her back to the palace, and Liutrad will fetch my priest-robe. He will bring me in before the king during the noon rest. If I fail, but get free, I 'll ride straight across the Ardennes to Cologne. At nightfall, Liutrad will ride with the king's daughter; but they shall go by another way, down the Meuse to Nimeguen. There I will meet them with my longships. What says Count Gerold to the theft of the king's daughter?"
"Saint Michael! Could you think me so cruel as to hold her here in the power of that werwolf? Yet a word: there will be swift pursuit."
"They will follow me to Cologne."
"And a priest has his cowl," added Liutrad.
Rothada pressed her blushing face against Olvir's shoulder.
"They shall not find our trail, dear hero," she whispered. "Berga in a forester's dress, and I as a page--"