nor less than he meant, she had walked away with Sigurd. He looked after
her with a scowl,--because he saw Egil watching him. But it surprised
him that, search as he would, he could nowhere find that great
soul-stirring rage which he had first felt against her.



CHAPTER VII

THE KING'S GUARDSMAN

Something great
Is not always to be given.
Praise is often for a trifle bought.
Ha'vama'l


It was the day after this brawl, when the guardsman Leif returned to
Nidaros. Alwin was brought to the notice of his new master in a most
unexpected fashion.

For one reason or another, the camp had been deserted early. At
day-break, Egil slung his bow across his back, provided himself with a
store of arrows and a bag of food, and set out for the mountains,--to
hunt, he told Tyrker, sullenly, as he passed. Two hours later, Valbrand
called for horses and hawks, and he and young Haraldsson, with Helga and
her Saxon waiting-maid, rode south for a day's sport in the pine woods.

Helga was the best comrade in the camp, whether one wished to go
hawking, or wanted a hand at fencing, or only asked for a quiet game of