"Ho there, Fridtjof!" he roared wrathfully.
The figure turned, and he had a fleeting glimpse of a hand waved in mocking
farewell. Then the boy sprang into the saddle of a horse that one of the
warriors was holding, and the whole band moved forward at a swinging pace.
"If you had waited a little, you would be less light on your feet," the Jotun
growled as he strode on, striking his heels savagely upon the frosty ground.
"Where is the King?" he demanded, as soon as he had reached the ring of nobles
sipping mead around the royal fire. Between swallows, they were carrying on a
heated discussion of the day's events; but Eric of Norway stopped long enough
to nod toward the wattled hut beneath the silken banner.
"In there; and I will give you this chain off my neck if you can guess what he
is doing."
"It is likely that he is busy with messengers," Rothgar said with an accent of
vexation. "I had hoped to reach him before he finished drinking, but there was
a brawl among my men which--"
"He is playing chess," Eric said dryly.
"Chess!"
The Norwegian nodded as he swallowed. "Heard you ever anything to equal that?
He has the appearance of a boy who has been released from a lesson. I wish
that you had been here to see him at meal-time. So full of jests and banter
was he that I could scarcely eat for laughing. Yet when I took courage from
his good-nature to ask him concerning his plans for the future, he pretended
that he did not hear me, and put an end to questioning by bidding Ulf come and
play chess with him in the hut.
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