The Frank met the look with a grave smile, and answered for his sword-brother: "It is a simple matter, sire. Olvir would ask Count Rudulf for the hand of his daughter. The Thuringian will not come south; so the suitor must go north."
"I will return before you march, lord king," repeated Olvir.
Karl gazed steadily into the haughty face of the Northman. What he saw there soon satisfied his doubts. He nodded, and said briefly: "Fulrad will have the writings drawn up within an hour. Make ready--Stay! here is my ring. It may speed your faring."
Olvir's eyes glistened as he took the royal signet.
"Thor!" he cried. "Here is a king whom a king's son may serve without shame!"
"Then fly, king's son. We 'll be looking for your return."
Olvir saluted, and hastened out through the crowds of envious lords. He was springing away from the pavilion, when Roland's voice brought him to a stand: "Hold, brother! a word. I go first to the villa, to make ready for your farewell."
"Brother--ay, brother!" muttered Olvir; and he stood hesitating, overcome by the insistent generosity of the Frank. But time pressed. He waved his hand to Roland and darted away again.
The hour had hardly passed when Olvir sprang down from Zora's back, beside Gerold and Roland, at the main gateway of the villa. The older count promptly took the bridle-rein, while Gerold turned and led Olvir to the queen's apartments.
There was little change within the bower since Olvir's first visit. As before, Hildegarde sat on the dais, with the children grouped about her feet, and the row of busy maidens on her left. Only the king was absent.
At Olvir's entrance, the maidens dropped their needlework, to glance at him from beneath their lashes and exchange softly murmured comments on his appearance. But Olvir's gaze was already fixed upon the graceful form of Fastrada, among the children on the dais edge. Heedless of the chattering maidens, he hastened forward, his ardor so keen that he could hardly conceal his impatience when Rothada came running to meet him.
"You leave us, Lord Olvir!" she exclaimed.
"Ay, little maid; the time is short. Farewell," he answered, and, with a hasty kiss on her forehead, he passed by. For a moment he knelt to kiss the queen's hand, and then he was beside Fastrada, drinking in the loveliness of her blushing face. The look in her eyes as she gazed at his lithe figure and resplendent war-gear filled him with such an intoxicating delight that for a little he failed to comprehend Hildegarde's remark: "I know nothing of your Norse customs, Lord Olvir. Here we are somewhat strict with unbetrothed maidens. You must say your farewells in our presence."