month's siege. He stared in amazement when the Dane, instead of
flashing out his blade, stopped short with a burst of jeering laughter.

"Here is the Englishman arrived, and he looks small enough now!" he
cried in his thunderous voice. "Has it happened that I am to be the
bower-thane who is to fetch you in!"

Sebert's grasp tightened around his hilt. Apparently the son of Lodbrok
was expecting him! Yet even on a forlorn hope, he deemed it wise not
to commit himself. He said with what haughtiness he could muster, "What
should a plain traveller want with a bower-thane, Danishman? I stand in
more need of the cellarer who is to provide me with a meal."

Another jeering outburst interrupted him. "Now I say nothing against
it if you declare yourself looking for sweetmeats! Well, I will be the
cellarer, and lead you to them."

"I do not understand you," Sebert said slowly, and quite truthfully.

The Dane grinned at him. "I mean that I will fetch you in to the one who
sent you the summons."

"The one who sent you the summons?" Certainly that sounded as though he
were using the words to conceal a name. Neither the Etheling's patience
nor his temper was long enough to reach below the knee. He made a swift
gesture of throwing aside all reserve. "Enough of mystery, Danishman! If
the message which I have received was not sent by Fridtjof Frodesson, it
was sent by you. Be honest enough to admit it and say plainly what your
intention is toward me."

"Fridtjof Frodesson," the Jotun mocked, and his fiery eyes probed the
Englishman like knives. "Now since honesty is to your wish, I will go so
far as to confess that the word came neither from Frode's son nor from
me."

Sebert's foot rang upon the ground. "Say then that the Devil sent it,
and a truce to this juggling! Since you know that I am the boy's friend,
you understand that any harm he has suffered is a harm to me, and that
my sword is equally ready to avenge it."

Much to his surprise, the Dane accorded this challenge no notice
whatever. He stood studying the Lord of Ivarsdale with eyes in which
malicious amusement was growing into open mirth. It came out in
another laugh. "Now it would be more unlikely than the wonder which has
occurred, yet I begin to believe you! I myself will guide you to your
Fridtjof, only for the pleasure of watching your face. The Fates are no
such step-mothers after all!" He turned in the direction from which he
had come and made the other a sign