In due time, in the dim twilight, the castle of Niflheim rose before him, and he felt that his journey was nearly done.
Late as it was, there was revelling going on in the palace. Knights and ladies crowded the halls, whilst without, in the outer rooms, persons of all degrees congregated to witness the festivities and share in the hospitalities of the royal bridegroom. For though Ulf was hated by all, some, either through fear or greediness, failed not to keep up a show of loyalty and even mirth in the royal presence.
Sigurd entered the palace unchallenged, and mingled with the outer throng of onlookers. No one noticed him, but he, looking round from under his hood, could see many faces that he knew, and amongst them the conspirators whom he had that evening overheard plotting in the streets of Jockjen. The sight of these men doubled his uneasiness, for the appointed hour was nearly come, and unless he fulfilled his errand forthwith he might yet be too late.
He therefore approached a knight whom he knew to be still faithful to the king, and drawing him aside, said—
“Sir, I would speak with the king. I have great news for him.”
“You cannot speak to-night, holy friar,” said the knight, “for the king is banqueting. Come in the morning.”
“It may be too late in the morning,” said Sigurd.
“Why, what news have you that is so urgent?” demanded the soldier.
“I bear news of Sigurd, the king’s brother, who is approaching, and may be here to-night.”
“Ha!” exclaimed the knight, eagerly; “Sigurd advancing! How many has he with him? and does he come in peace or war?”