rasp as his
eyes, grown suddenly keen, searched her face. His voice dropped low.
"Randalin, it is very unlikely that Elfgiva's scratches have brought you
to this. Do you stand in need of reminding that any man who has angered
you has angered me? That my sword lies under your hand?"

Her face seemed to have become glass before him, through which he looked
into the innermost chambers of her mind. Terror-stricken, she snatched
her hands away to cover it. "No, no!" she cried wildly. "I am angry with
no one. I have found fault with no one. Draw no sword for me--only let
me go!"

Again he turned from her and stood looking out at the clouds; but when
at last he spoke, his voice was the gentlest she had ever heard it. "You
are wise in this, as in other things, Frode's daughter," he said, "and
you shall certainly have your way. I take it that I am your guardian
to protect you from harm, not to force you into things you do not want.
Soldiers I can trust shall go with you, in case there be danger from
Norman's people, and for women--"

She spoke up eagerly, "There is an old nun at Saint Mildred's, King, who
loves me. I think she would come to me until others could be found."

"Go then," he granted. "Thorkel shall see to it that men and horses are
ready when you are." He held out his hand, but when she took it in both
of hers and would have saluted it reverently, he would not let her but
instead raised her fingers to his lips. An odd note was in his voice.
"Heavy is it for my tongue to say farewell to you, Frode's daughter,"
he said, "for your friendship has surpassed most other things in
pleasantness to me."

Frank liking mingled with gratitude and reverence as she looked up at
him. "I have got great kindness and favor from you, King Canute; I pray
that you will be very happy with your Queen."

A moment he pressed his lips to her hand; then gently set it free. "I
give you thanks," he returned, "but happiness is for me to wish you.
The best you can ask for me is that sometime I shall become what you
believed me to be the day you came to me at Scoerstan."

She tried to tell him that she believed him that now,--but something
in her forbade the untruth. She could do no more than leave him, with a
mute gesture of farewell.

Perhaps her gaze was not quite clear as she crossed the room, for she
did not see that the door-curtains were moving until she was close
upon them, when they were thrust apart to admit the form of Rothgar