ike a trader's booth.
Spears and banners and gold-bossed shields decorated the walls, while
the reed-strewn ground was littered with furs and armor, with jewelled
altar-cloths and embroidered palls and wonder-ful gold-laced garments.
The rude temporary benches were spread with splendid covers of purple
and green, upon which silver lilies and gold-eyed peacocks had been
wrought with exquisite skill. And the rough-hewn table bore such
treasures as plunderers dream of when their sleeping-bags are lying the
most comfortably,--ivory relique caskets, out of which the sacred
bones had been unceremoniously turned, gemmed chalices from earls'
feasting-halls, and amber chains and silver mirrors and strings of
pearls from their ladies' bowers. Randalin's gaze lingered, dazzled,
then slowly rose to examine the master of all this wealth.

He was not so easy to pick out. Of the three men around the table, only
one was a graybeard; and of the two striplings left, either might have
been the son of Sven of Denmark. Both were finely formed; both were
dressed with royal splendor, and the hair of each fell from under a
jewelled circlet in uncut lengths of shining fairness. The hair of the
shorter one, though, was finer; and no red tainted the purity of its
gold. When one came to look at it, it was like a royal cloak. Perhaps
he might be the King! She wished he would raise his face from his hands,
that she might see it. Then she noticed that his shoulders lacked the
breadth of his companion's by as much as a palm's width; and her mind
wavered. Surely so great a king as Canute must be broader-shouldered
than any of his subjects! This youth was hardly brawny at all; as
Vikings went, he was even slender. She turned her attention to the other
man. He was big enough, certainly; the fist that he was waving in
the air was like nothing so much as a sledge-hammer, and there was a
likeness to the Jotuns in his florid coarse-featured face.

As she watched it, Randalin felt a coldness creep over her. His great
jaws were like the jowl of a mastiff. His thick-lipped mouth--what was
it that made that so terrible, even in smiling? Watching it with the
fascination of terror, it occurred to her to endow him with the appetite
of the drunken warrior at the table outside the tent. Suppose, just
as they stood now, he should take the fancy to turn and kiss her lips;
would anything stop him? In the drawing of a breath, her overwrought
nerves had painted the pictu