the jest--" Again he became
unintelligible.

Rothgar stopped, but it was to glower over his folded arms. "Do you
think I do not know as well as you that I behaved like a fool? What I
dislike is that you cannot see as plainly that your ward is a troll.
Because his womanish face has caught your fancy, you will neither blame
him yourself nor allow others to make a fuss--"

"That is where you are wrong," the King interrupted, with as much
gravity as he could command. "When Fridtjof Frodesson comes again into
your presence, I give you leave to take whatever revenge you like. Lash
him with your tongue or your belt, as you will; and I promise that I
will not lift finger to hinder you from it."

"And not hold it against me?" Rothgar demanded incredulously.

"And not hold it against you," Canute agreed. Then he tilted his head
back to laugh openly in the other's face. "Will you wager a finger-ring
against my knife that your mind will not change when my ward stands
again before you?"

The Jotun smiled grimly. "Is that the expectation you are stringing your
bow with? It will fail you as surely as the hair of Hother's wife failed
him. The wager shall be as you have made it; and may I lack strength if
I do not deal with him--" He paused, blinking like a startled owl, as
his royal foster-brother leaped to his feet and fronted him with shouts
of laughter.

"You dolt, you!" Canute cried. "Do you not see it yet? Frode's child is
a woman!"

Rothgar's jaw dropped and his bulging eyes seemed in danger of
following. "What!" he gasped; and then his voice rose to a roar. "And
the Englishman is her lover?"

"You are wiser than I expected," the King laughed. "I intend to call you
Thrym after this, for it is unlikely that Loke made a greater fool of
the Giant. Your enemies will make derisive songs about it."

Stamping with rage, the Jotun hammered his huge fist upon a tree-trunk
until bark flew in every direction. "King, I will give you every ring
off my hand if you will give me leave to strangle her!"

"You remind me that I will take one of your rings now," Canute said,
reaching out and opening the mallet-like fist that he might make his
choice. Then, as he fitted on his prize and held it critically to the
light, he added with more sympathy: "I will arrange for you a more
profitable revenge than that. I will make a condition with Edmund
that the Etheling's odal shall not be included in the land which is
peace-holy, and that to rava