"Only one way would be possible, Canute!
Your waist is not so big as one of his arms. His sword would cleave you as if
it cut water."
Half laughing, but more resentful, the King freed himself. "Now do you hold my
power so lightly? More than once have I gotten under your guard. If skill
could accomplish anything, you would not have to wait long for what I should
fix upon." He broke off with a shrug and flung himself back upon the straw of
the bunk. "Let us speak of something else," he said. "What did the boy say
about having seen Edmund?"
Somewhat ramblingly, as uncertain of his interest, Randalin told him of her
glimpse of the Ironside; and he listened lying back on the straw, his eyes
fixed on the ceiling. She had begun to think he had forgotten her, when all at
once he shot out a swift question: "Did you never find out what the wool was
that Edric Jarl pulled over his eyes?"
"Not unless one could guess it from what King Edmund said, lord,--that the
Jarl had found them so much cleverer than he expected that his victory was
without relish to him, and he was desirous to regain their friendship."
A distinct chuckle came from Canute, and some murmur about the Ironside's
chin. Then he said, "Go on, and tell me everything you can remember"; and once
more lay staring at the ceiling in silence. He did not appear to notice it
when she stopped; the pause lasted so long that Rothgar concluded that sleep
had overtaken their host and rose softly to betake himself to such cheer as
the fires offered.
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