sessions, but her thralls deserted her; and without the aid of Earl Haakon she could not manage her estates, and was soon reduced to penury. As companion in her poverty and ill-health she had Ingrid the sorceress, now a saddened, decrepit old woman, who had never recovered from the shock of her daughter’s death.
Thora, fretful as usual, gave curt answer to Maidoch’s gentle greeting. “I do marvel at thee,” said the sick woman. “If I had thy youth and thy beauty and the wealth Lord Thorgills left thee, I could surely find a better place to dwell than in the dull cloister with the cheerless Lady Aastrid.”
“Thou art surely wrong to say so,” answered Maidoch. “The Lady Aastrid is a sweet companion, and her cloister is a safe, holy home for me until my Lord Thorgills shall return.”
“Until thy lord returns? And dost thou think he will return to thee? It is over twelve months since he left.”
“Aye, I do know how long—how very long it is—but he will return to me.”
“And thou dost think a man can remember thee so long, aye, even thy Lord Thorgills? Thou hast less wit, with all thy skill and all thy learning, than some poor peasant thrall maiden. Remember? A man remember for a twelvemonth? No! not for a fortnight, if some other face please him.”
Maidoch turned aside to hide her distress and was
