What! Are the plans of men to be
upset by your baby face, and a king-dom lost because a little fool chooses to
play with poison as a child with fire?"
"Poison?" she screamed. She had been facing him with whitening lips, and now
the little breath that she had left went from her in a sharp cry. "Not poison;
love-philtres! To win him back! Love-philtres,--can you not hear?"
"Love-philtres!" The old warrior's voice made the words bite with contempt.
"Did the mouthful she swallowed have that effect upon your woman? Or do you
think you planted love in the breasts of the dead scullions? Had you seen
their writhings I think you would have called it by another name."
He was standing over her now, and she was cowering before him, her shaking
hands rising as though to ward off his eyes. "I meant no harm," she was
wailing with stiff lips. "The scroll said not a word that it was hurtful. Do
not kill me. I meant no--" The word ended in an inarticulate sound and she
swayed backward.
It was Randalin who caught and eased her down upon the rustic chair, and
Randalin who turned upon the Tall One. "Saw I never a meaner man!" she cried.
"Certainly I think Loke was less wolf-minded than you. You know very well that
if Teboen had thought it would become a cause of harm to her, she would have
refused to swallow it. I will go to the King myself and tell him how
despisable you are.
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