"The days of our meeting will blot out the memory of the parting," answered Olvir; and a smile drove the lingering frown from his brow. Still smiling, he glanced aside at Kasim, with a pleasant word of parting on his lips; but neither look nor word won a responsive smile from the impassive face of the younger Saracen.
A moment later, as the ship's bows swung clear of the bank, Count Gerold rode down beside Olvir and cried out eagerly: "Tell me, hero, is not that your rune-friend Liutrad at the helm?"
"Ay."
"Then may he not come with us? Our lord king will be glad to see him also."
Olvir made a sign to the young giant, who calmly gave the tiller into Floki's hand, and turned to pick up his ponderous axe.
"The hero should move more briskly if he would come ashore dry shod," remarked Gerold, and he pointed to the quickly widening space between the bank and the longship's stern.
"The stag leaps high. I alone can out spring the son of Erling. Watch!"
As Olvir spoke, Liutrad bounded up on the high stern-piece of the ship. For an instant he stood poised on the gilded dragon-tail, gathering force for the wide leap; then he came flying above the water, clear to the side of his earl.
"Well done, Dane!" exclaimed Gerold; and he sprang from his horse.
Liutrad caught the extended hand of the queen's brother in his powerful grip, and met his smile with a look no less friendly. Though the Northman overtopped the Swabian by a head, the two were so well matched in years and nature that their hearts warmed in friendship on the spot.