and for the sake of our bond of blood, beware! beware! lest thou be ensnared.”
The other woman rose. “O great King!”—the sweet, pleading voice came in a whisper,—“my Lord Thorgills, thy friend and thy faithful scald, who loves thee better than his own life, has bid me warn thee of thy danger. He will be with thee to-morrow, but, O my King! he doth bid me say there is treachery near thee.”
Aastrid spoke even lower. “There is one I must not name who would guide thee to destruction. O Olaf, my King! beware of thy false friend, false to thee now, as false to thee in the past.”
“Dear Lady Aastrid, and thou, my Thorgills’ honored lady, have too deeply thought on this matter. Women true and devoted are prone to be ever fearful of danger. There is no one false to me now, for I have won back my lost friend.”
Lady Aastrid wrung her hands despairingly, and Maidoch clasped her hands in pleading. “Beware! my King!” they murmured. “Trust not too far! Beware!” Then at a sign the rowers turned the boat, and it was lost in the darkness.
Next morning the entire fleet of King Olaf, sixty ships and sixty transports, and the fleet of Earl Sigvalde, eleven ships, were making ready for the homeward journey. Olaf in person commanded the “Long Serpent.” Erling Skjalsson of Sole, the powerful young chieftain of South Hordaland who had married
