born and bred to like neither thee nor thy name, and yet betimes a maiden’s fancy may override all that she hath been taught to hate. Even so, my Gudrun thinks not of thee as enemy. Thou art a warrior, King Olaf; and thy deeds and thy valor fit all the fancy of a high-born maid.”
“Thou dost mean—?” Olaf leaned forward, his strong heart palpitating with the grateful suggestion of Gudrun’s preference—her affection even.
“Nay, King Olaf, I do only say, the maid is not unwilling. As to her regard for thee, that were a matter between thee and her. It is not meet that the wife of Ironbeard should confess to his enemy that he hath won our daughter’s heart—the one gem of our household that cruel fortune left us.”
Olaf was touched, and said kindly, leaning forward to the witch, “Then thou art willing that the maiden should wed me? I do love her truly, and I will strive to make her the happiest of women, besides the queen of my kingdom. Thou wilt so tell the maiden, and bid her prepare for our nuptials.”
“Save that she hath no father, King Olaf, I would not be willing. Thou sayest thou dost love my maiden. Thou art her choiceamong men. True, she is the daughter of a thane of Norway, and even thou, the king, might not take the maid if I denied thee. The maiden’s welfare is above my will; and her happiness is a stronger call than my enmity. I tell thee plainly, King Olaf, I would not be willing but that
