“Lady, it is true my master hath not kept faith with thee. He was bewitched. A Finnish sorceress put a spell upon him and so blinded his sight that he saw not thy beauty. These wenches he thought so beautiful are but hags beside thee. None but a poor, bewitched man, under a spell, could give them a look, when one so beautiful as thou art near. Of a truth, thy beauty doth pain my poor eyes, like the sun at noon, when the ice floes break under its beams.”
Thora smiled graciously at the speaker. “I know thee now. Thou art Kark, my lord’s own thrall. Thou wert once a wise man and faithful to Jarl Haakon.” Her tone was very gracious. “How didst thou let him be bewitched and ensnared into all this trouble?”
Kark shook his head. “He could not withstand the sorceress. But see, now, my lady. Jarl Haakon hath set thee in a high place. If he perish in this danger, where will thy place be? Hide us, till this present storm blows over, and thou wilt rise again as the Jarl’s favorite. Nay, lady, thou mayest be even queen of Norway when we have driven out this bold viking.”
“It is even as he says, my beautiful Thora. None other shall ever share my heart. None other shall share my throne.”
Thora looked doubtfully at the earl. She did not reply for a moment, and in the silence the tramp of
