The fire held up funeral
tapers of flickering flame, and the whispers of the starving men who warmed
themselves in its heat broke the silence as dismally as the voices of
mourners.
But the Lord of Ivarsdale said steadily, "Not so, good friend; and it hurts my
pride sorely that you should speak as if I were still of no importance in my
father's house. That which I call myself lord of, it behooved me to rule over.
If ever I get out of this--" checking himself, he rose to his feet. "The smoke
makes my wits heavy. Methinks I will go up into the air a while."
He took a step toward the door, but halted when the red-cloaked page, who had
been stretched near him on the bench, started up as though preparing to
accompany him. "Stay where you are, lad. These fasts from sleep will parch
your young brains. I go up to the platform because I would rather walk than
rest; but do you remain here by the fire and try to catch a drowsiness from
its heat."
But the page advanced with the old wilful shake of his curly head. "I also
would rather walk, if you please." As he looked at him, compassion came into
the Etheling's face. The hollowness of their sockets made the boy's large eyes
look larger, and his fever-flush trebled their brightness. Sebert said, with a
poor attempt at a smile, "Little did I think that my hospitality would ever
produce such a guest.
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