else, while Thangbrand guarded Sigurd's back. Thrice Ketil's steel met that of Sigurd, then seeing an opening, the latter struck; but his feet slipped on the dew-wet grass, and he fell headfirst.
Thangbrand was instantly bestriding his body, facing Ketil, At this the Irish came in behind him, watching eagerly for a chance to use their long knives, while the priest crossed swords with Ketil. Suddenly the latter threw up his arms as something flew past Thangbrand, and fell with a spear through his body as a yell of terror went up from his band.
Looking about as he raised Sigurd to his feet, Thangbrand saw King Brian Boroimhe behind him, sword in hand, while his men pursued the fleeing band in all directions, cutting them down without mercy.
CHAPTER XVIII.
A MISSION FOR THE KING.
THE King addressed Thangbrand in Latin, which the priest understood fairly well.
"Just in time, my friends! The guide whom I sent with you returned late last night with word of your mishap, and early this morning I sent men in all directions, joining myself in the search, for I was greatly angered that my safe-conduct had been broken in this wise."
"We owe you our lives, my lord," responded Thangbrand gratefully. "These men were in the pay of a traitor, whom your spear slew before I had a chance at him, unfortunately."
The old king smiled, not unkindly. "Strange words for a man of God, sir priest! But I see that your blade has done good service to Jarl Sigurd, and perhaps in these times a priest must be man of the world as well." King Brian sighed heavily as he looked around, then said, "Ask the Jarl if he has my letters safe."
When Thangbrand translated, Sigurd held up the letters, their seals unbroken; and now the King's men returned, and the party went to Kells at once. Here, as Sigurd was in haste to get back to Dublin, the King gave him an escort of fifty men, and they set out without delay.
Upon reaching the territory of Olaf, Sigurd dismissed the Irish and pushed forward; but on coming within sight of the city he gave an exclamation of dismay. Instead of the King's standard, there floated from the castle a huge black banner!
Wondering greatly, they galloped up to the city and entered. To their amazement, the shops were all closed, and the whole city wore an air of mourning. Sigurd, without stopping to ask questions, left Thangbrand and hurried to the great hall.
It was empty, save for Olaf, who sat in the high-seat, his head bowed in his hands. Sigurd advanced and held out the letters.
"Here, my lord, is the reply of King Brian Boroimhe. Why is the black standard on the castle, and why are all the shops shut?"
Olaf raised his head and gazed at Sigurd with heavy eyes.
"Welcome back, Jarl, in an evil hour. Queen Gyda died last night."
As Sigurd stared at the King, the latter rose slowly, descended from the high-seat, and taking Sigurd's arm in his, exclaimed:
"Sigurd, come and talk to me. I am lonely, and the most wretched of all men."
They walked up and down the hall, and Olaf told Sigurd how the night before the Queen had been seized with a fatal illness. Good Bishop Sigurd, the English prelate who had come to Ireland with Olaf, had done his best, for he was a skillful leech, but to no avail.
"Why should this evil come upon me now?" cried the King, bitterly. Sigurd said little, allowing the King's pent-up grief to find utterance, then he said, softly:
