"Go, bring your horse into the courtyard--to the steps of the palace doorway," he said. "Should I come out in haste, do not wonder if I take the beast from you with a show of force. The Franks should know of nothing against you till you 've fled with their king's daughter."
"Olvir! You mean our lord king no harm?"
"God forbid--greatly as he has wronged me! Only, I 'd not linger in the werwolf's power should all go ill."
"Saint Michael grant you have no need of flight!"
"My thanks. Go quickly!"
Liutrad hurried away, and Olvir stepped forward to meet the doorward, his head bent beneath the cowl, and his lips muttering a Latin phrase.
"Hold," commanded the pompous official. "What is the priest's purpose at the door of our lord king?"
"To enter it, fool!" muttered Olvir, in Latin, and, as the Frank bowed to the blessing, he spoke in a tone of authority: "Lead me to his Majesty. I come from Fulda and--"
"Ah, the wise Abbot Baugulf. Follow me, priest, and pray for grace that you do not stammer and stand dumfounded when you enter the presence of majesty."
Olvir made no answer, and the doorward, judging that he had sufficiently impressed the humble priest, flung aside the curtains, and announced his entrance. "A messenger, your Majesty, from Abbot Baugulf."