Involuntarily,
he looked again at the group by the well. She was very winsome in her smiling,
and the graceful lines of her trailing robes, their delicacy and soft
richness, threw about her all the glamour of rank and state. He clenched his
hands at the thought of such treasures thrown down for brutal feet to trample
on; and his heart grew hot with anger against her, anger and scorn that were
almost loathing, that she who looked so fine should be so poor, so--But he did
not finish his thought, for on its heels came another, a recollection that
stayed his anger and changed his scorn to compunction. However dear Rothgar
might have been to her, he could be dear no longer, or she would never have
betrayed his trust and dared his hate to save Ivarsdale Tower--and its master.
Sebert winced and put up his hand to shut out the vision as he realized at
whose feet her heart lay now, like a pitiful bruised flower.
Meanwhile, the son of Lodbrok had been drawing heavily on his scant stock of
patience. Suddenly, he ran out completely. Seizing the Etheling by the
shoulders, before he could raise finger in resistance, he thrust him through
the open doorway into the garden, a target for every startled glance. After
which, he himself stalked grimly on to await him at the city gate.
Chapter XXII
How The Lord of Ivarsdale Paid His Debt
To his friend
A man should be a friend,
And gifts with gifts requite.
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