Did he lie?"
"I do not know whether he lied or not," Randalin answered slowly; "but it
seems to me great foolishness that you did not take the time into
consideration. At the end of the harvest, any English house would be fitted
out for weeks of feasting. You came the night the larder was fullest; and they
have only spent one meal a day since."
Rothgar got upon his feet and towered over her, his Jotun-frame appearing to
swell with irritation. "Do you not know how provoking your words are, that you
are so glib of tongue?" he thundered. "Tell shortly what you think of their
case; can they last one day more?"
The black head nodded emphatically.
"Can they last two days?"
Another nod.
"A week?"
Fridtjof the Bold took refuge in sullenness. "They can last two weeks as
easily as one. How much longer are you going to keep me from food?" She was
free after that to do anything she liked, for their excitement was so great
that they forgot her existence. Those whose fluency was not hampered by their
feelings, relieved their minds by cursing. Those whose anger could be vented
only in action, made after the blundering serf. And the few who were boldest
turned and bearded the son of Lodbrok himself.
"How much longer must we endure this?"... "Think of the game we are
missing!"... "There is little need to remind me. My naked fists could batter
the stones from their places--".
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