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GYDA’S TWO LOVES
As they walked along the river, Thorgills looked anxiously into Olaf’s face. “My King, I have joyed in thy joy, and I have sorrowed in thy sorrow. I can sound no true note of thy triumph now, for the fear of one false comrade in yon ship. It is the captain, Thore Klakka. I knew him for a traitor in Norway. He and his brood hated thy mother, and now he stands near to Jarl Haakon, the overlord, who rules in thy place.”
Olaf stood still, looking perplexed. “But thou didst tell me, Thorgills, that this captain,—how didst thou call his name?”
“Thore Klakka, my King.”
“This Thore came with a message from Sigvalde, my kinsman, and didst thou not think he brought me the word of welcome to my own kingdom?”
Thorgills shook his head. “So said he, my King, but I like not the man.”
“It may be that I shall not like the man either, Thorgills,” said Olaf, with a happy smile, “but I wot I will surely like his message. Come! come!” laying his hand affectionately on the scald’s shoulder,
