all the learning of the sages, bade her choose him, the stranger and all unknown.”
Maidoch listened intently as Thorgills sang. Often in her Leinster home she had heard of the choice of the Princess Gyda; and now she marvelled not that the Irish princess had chosen him, as she glanced at the king, so valiantly handsome.
As Thorgills sang, he was thinking of how King Olaf had won the princess, and how the saga of the viking had conquered the consent of King Kavaran. Would this little maid be moved also by the recital of all the dangers Thorgills and his master had braved? In the saga Thorgills spoke not his own name, but often dwelt on the love of the faithful scald who had followed the exiled king.
“It is a right brave song,” Fiachtna cried heartily, when Thorgills laid aside his harp. “King Olaf, though he is but young in years, hath seen many adventures.” Then the old man repeated Thore Klakka’s prophecy: “Thy brave king hath been held safe for some great station. God’s hand hath held him for some mighty purpose.”
Maidoch’s gentle voice sounded: “Thy great king hath seen many dangers, and braved them all, but I like full well to hear of the faithful scald who followed him.”
Thorgills looked at her with shining eyes. “Thou didst know this scald, this loving friend of thy king?” Fiachtna queried.
