Lagerlöf Selma
From a Swedish Homestead
'"Thou shalt certainly have my galley," she said. "Thou knowest there are many good men at the oars. For it is my will that thou shalt come well dowered to Norway's King, so that he may feel honoured with his Queen."
'And afterwards the Princess had sat a long time with her sister, and spoken with her about King Olaf. But she had spoken of him as one speaks of the Saints of God, and not of kings, and Astrid had not understood many of her words. But this much she did understand – that the King's daughter wished to give Astrid all the good thoughts that dwelt in her own heart, in order that King Olaf might not be so disappointed as her father wished. And then Astrid, who was not so bad as people thought her, forgot how often she had suffered for her sister's sake, and she wished that she had been able to say, "I will not go!" She had also spoken to her sister about this wish, and they had cried together, and for the first time felt like sisters.
'But it was not Astrid's nature to allow herself to be weighed down by sorrow and scruples. By the time she was out at sea she had forgotten all her sorrow and fear. She travelled as a Princess, and was waited upon as a Princess. For the first time since her mother's death she was happy.'
When the King's beautiful daughter had told Hjalte all this she was silent for a moment, and looked at him. Hjalte had sat immovable whilst she was speaking, but the King's daughter grew pale when she saw the pain his face betrayed.
'Tell me what thou thinkest, Hjalte,' she exclaimed. 'Now, we are soon at Kungahälla. How shall I fare there? Will the King slay me? Will he brand me with red-hot irons, and send me back again? Tell me the truth, Hjalte.'
But Hjalte did not answer. He sat and talked to himself without knowing it. Astrid heard him murmur that at Kungahälla no one knew Ingegerd, and that he himself had but little inclination to turn back.
But now Hjalte's moody face fell upon Astrid, and he began to question her. She had wished, had she not, that she could have said 'No' to this journey. When she came to Kungahälla, the choice lay before her. What did she, then, mean to do! Would she tell King Olaf who she was?
This question caused Astrid not a little embarrassment. She was silent for a long while, but then she began to beg Hjalte to go with her to Kungahälla and tell the King the truth. She told Hjalte that her maidens and the men on board her ship had been bound to silence.
'And what I shall do myself I do not know,' she said. 'How can I know that? I have heard all thou hast told Ingegerd about Olaf Haraldsson.'
When Astrid said this she saw that Hjalte was again lost in thought. She heard him mutter to himself that he did not think she would confess how things were.
'But I must all the same tell her what awaits her,' he said.
Then Hjalte rose, and spoke to her with the utmost gravity.
'Let me tell thee yet another story, Astrid, about King Olaf, which I have not told thee before:
'It was at the time when King Olaf was a poor sea-king, when he only possessed a few good ships and some faithful warriors, but none of his forefathers' land. It was at the time when he fought with honour on distant seas, chastised vikings and protected merchants, and aided Christian princes with his sword.
'The King had a dream that one night an angel of God descended to his ship, set all the sails, and steered for the north. And it seemed to the King that they had not sailed for a longer time than it takes the dawn to extinguish a star before they came to a steep and rocky shore, cut up by narrow fjords and bordered with milk-white breakers. But when they reached the shore the angel stretched out his hand, and spoke in his silvery voice. It rang through the wind, which whistled in the sails, and through the waves surging round the keel.
'"Thou, King Olaf," were the angel's words, "shalt possess this land for all time."
'And when the angel had said this the dream was over.'
Hjalte now tried to explain to Astrid that like as the dawn tempers the transition from dark night to sunny day, so God had not willed that King Olaf should at once understand that the dream foretold him of superhuman honour. The King had not understood that it was the will of God that he from a heavenly throne should reign forever and ever over Norway's land, that kings should reign and kings should pass away, but holy King Olaf should continue to rule his kingdom for ever.
The King's humility did not let him see the heavenly message in its fulness of light, and he understood the words of the angel thus – that he and his seed should forever rule over the land the angel had shown him. And inasmuch as he thought he recognised in this land the kingdom of his forefathers, he steered his course for Norway, and, fortune helping him, he soon became King of that land.
'And thus it is still, Astrid. Although everything indicates that in King Olaf dwells a heavenly strength, he himself is still in doubt, and thinks that he is only called to be an earthly King. He does not yet stretch forth his hand for the crown of the saints. But now the time cannot be far distant when he must fully realize his mission. It cannot be far distant.'
And old Hjalte went on speaking, whilst the light of the seer shone in his soul and on his brow.
'Is there any other woman but Ingegerd who would not be rejected by Olaf Haraldsson and driven from his side when he fully understands the words of the angel, that he shall be Norway's King for all time? Is there anyone who can, then, follow him in his holy walk except Ingegerd?'
And again Hjalte turned to Astrid and asked with great severity:
'Answer me now and tell me whether thou wilt speak the truth to King Olaf?'
Astrid was now sore afraid. She answered humbly:
'Why wilt thou not go with me to Kungahälla? Then I shall be compelled to tell everything. Canst thou not see, Hjalte, that I do not know myself what I shall do? If it were my intention to deceive the King, could I not promise thee all thou wishest? All that I needed was to persuade thee to go on thy way. But I am weak; I only asked thee to go with me.'
But hardly had she said this before she saw Hjalte's face glow with fierce wrath.
'Why should I help thee to escape the fate that awaits thee?' he asked.
And then he said that he did not think he had any cause to show her mercy. He hated her for having sinned against her sister. The man that she would steal, thief as she was, belonged to Ingegerd. Even a hardened warrior like Hjalte must groan with pain when he thought of how Ingegerd had suffered. But Astrid had felt nothing. In the midst of all that young maiden's sorrow she had come with wicked and cruel cunning, and had only sought her own happiness. Woe unto Astrid! woe unto her!
Hjalte had lowered his voice; it became heavy and dull; it sounded to Astrid as if he were murmuring an incantation.
'It is thou,' he said to her, 'who hast destroyed my most beautiful song.' For the most beautiful song Hjalte had made was the one in which he had joined the most pious of all women with the greatest of all men. 'But thou hast spoiled my song,' he said, 'and made a mockery of it; and I will punish thee, thou child of Hél. I will punish thee; as the Lord punisheth the tempter who brought sin into His world, I will punish thee. But do not ask me,' he continued, 'to protect thee against thine own self. I remember the Princess, and how she must suffer through the trick thou playest on King Olaf. For her sake thou shalt be punished, just as much as for mine. I will not go with thee to betray thee. That is my revenge, Astrid. I will not betray thee. Go thou to Kungahälla, Astrid; and if thou dost not speak of thine own accord, thou wilt become the King's bride. But then, thou serpent, punishment shall overtake thee! I know King Olaf, and I know thee. Thy life shall be such a burden that thou wilt wish for death every day that passes.'
When Hjalte had said this he turned away from her and went his way.
Astrid sat a long time silent, thinking of what she had heard. But then a smile came over her face. He forgot, did old Hjalte, that she had suffered many trials, that she had learnt to laugh at pain. But happiness, happiness, that she had never tried.
And Astrid rose and went to the opening of the tent. She saw the angry Bard's ship. She thought that far, far away she could see Iceland, shrouded in mist, welcoming her much-travelled son with cold and darkness.
III
A sunny day late in the harvest, not a cloud in the sky; a day when one thinks the fair sun will give to the earth all the light she possesses! The fair sun is like a mother whose son is about to set out for a far-off land, and who, in the hour of the leave-taking, cannot take her eyes from the beloved.
In the long valley where Kungahälla lies there is a row of small hills covered with beech-wood. And now at harvest-time the trees have garbed themselves in such splendid raiment that one's heart is gladdened. One would almost think that the trees were going a-wooing. It looks as if they had clothed themselves in gold and scarlet to win a rich bride by their splendour.
The large island of Hisingen, on the other side of the river, had also adorned itself. But Hisingen is covered with golden-white birch-trees. At Hisingen the trees are clad in light colours, as if they are little maidens in bridal attire.
But up the river, which comes rushing down towards the ocean as proudly and wildly as if the harvest rain had filled it with frothy wine, there passes the one ship after the other, rowing homewards. And when the ships approach Kungahälla they hoist new white sails, instead of the old ones of gray wadmal; and one cannot help thinking of old fairy-tales of kings' sons who go out seeking adventures clothed in rags, but who throw them off when they again enter the King's lofty hall.
But all the people of Kungahälla have assembled at the landing-stages. Old and young are busy unloading goods from the ships. They fill the storehouses with salt and train-oil, with costly weapons, and many-coloured rugs. They haul large and small vessels on to land, they question the returned seamen about their voyage. But suddenly all work ceases, and every eye is turned towards the river.
Right between the big merchant vessels a large galley is making its way, and people ask each other in astonishment who it can be that carries sails striped with purple and a golden device on the prow; they wonder what kind of ship it can be that comes flying over the waves like a bird. They praise the oarsmen, who handle the oars so evenly that they flash along the sides of the ship like an eagle's wings.
'It must be the Swedish Princess who is coming,' they say. 'It must be the beautiful Princess Ingegerd, for whom Olaf Haraldsson has been waiting the whole summer and harvest.'
And the women hasten down to the riverside to see the Princess when she rows past them on her way to the King's Landing-Stage. Men and boys run to the ships, or climb the roofs of the boathouses.
When the women see the Princess standing in gorgeous apparel, they begin to shout to her, and to greet her with words of welcome; and every man who sees her radiant face tears his cap from his head and swings it high in the air. But on the King's Landing-Stage stands King Olaf himself, and when he sees the Princess his face beams with gladness, and his eyes light up with tender love.
And as it is now so late in the year that all the flowers are faded, the young maidens pluck the golden-red autumnal leaves from the trees and strew them on the bridge and in the street; and they hasten to deck their houses with the bright berries of the mountain-ash and the dark-red leaves of the poplar.
The Princess, who stands high on the ship, sees the people waving and greeting her in welcome. She sees the golden-red leaves over which she shall walk, and foremost on the landing-stage she sees the King awaiting her with smiles. And the Princess forgets everything she would have said and confessed. She forgets that she is not Ingegerd, she forgets everything except the one thing, that she is to be the wife of Olaf Haraldsson.
One Sunday Olaf Haraldsson was seated at table, and his beautiful Queen sat by his side. He was talking eagerly with her, resting his elbow on the table, and turning towards her, so that he could see her face. But when Astrid spoke the King lowered his eyes in order not to think of anything but her lovely voice, and when she had been speaking for a long time he began to cut the table with his knife without thinking of what he was doing. All King Olaf's men knew that he would not have done this if he had remembered that it was Sunday; but they had far too great a respect for King Olaf to venture to remind him that he was committing a sin.
The longer Astrid talked, the more uneasy became his henchmen. The Queen saw that they exchanged troubled glances with each other, but she did not understand what was the matter.
All had finished eating, and the food had been removed, but King Olaf still sat and talked with Astrid and cut the top of the table. A whole little heap of chips lay in front of him. Then at last his friend Björn, the son of Ogur from Selö, spoke.
'What day is it to-morrow, Eilif?' he asked, turning to one of the torch-bearers.
'To-morrow is Monday,' answered Eilif in a loud and clear voice.
Then the King lifted his head and looked up at Eilif.
'Dost thou say that to-morrow is Monday?' he asked thoughtfully.
Without saying another word, the King gathered up all the chips he had cut off the table into his hand, went to the fireplace, seized a burning coal, and laid it on the chips, which soon caught fire. The King stood quite still and let them burn to ashes in his hand. Then all the henchmen rejoiced, but the young Queen grew pale as death.
'What sentence will he pronounce over me when he one day finds out my sin,' she thought, 'he who punishes himself so hardly for so slight an offence?'
Agge from Gardarike lay sick on board his galley in Kungahälla harbour. He was lying in the narrow hold awaiting death. He had been suffering for a long time from pains in his foot, and now there was an open sore, and in the course of the last few hours it had begun to turn black.
'Thou needest not die, Agge,' said Lodulf from Kunghälla, who had come on board to see his sick friend. 'Dost thou not know that King Olaf is here in the town, and that God, on account of his piety and holiness, has given him power to heal the sick? Send a message to him and ask him to come and lay his hand upon thee, and thou wilt recover.'
'No, I cannot ask help from him,' answered Agge. 'Olaf Haraldsson hates me because I have slain his foster-brother, Reor the White. If he knew that my ship lay in the harbour, he would send his men to kill me.'
But when Lodulf had left Agge and gone into the town, he met the young Queen, who had been in the forest gathering nuts.
'Queen,' Lodulf cried to her, 'say this to King Olaf: "Agge from Gardarike, who has slain thy foster-brother, lies at the point of death on his ship in the harbour."'
The young Queen hastened home and went immediately up to King Olaf, who stood in the courtyard smoothing the mane of his horse.
'Rejoice, King Olaf!' she said. 'Agge from Gardarike, who slew thy foster-brother, lies sick on his ship in the harbour and is near death.'
Olaf Haraldsson at once led his horse into the stable; then he went out without sword or helmet. He went quickly down one of the narrow lanes between the houses until he reached the harbour. There he found the ship which belonged to Agge. The King was at the side of the sick man before Agge's men thought of stopping him.
'Agge,' said King Olaf, 'many a time I have pursued thee on the sea, and thou hast always escaped me. Now thou hast been struck down with sickness here in my city. This is a sign to me that God hath given thy life into my hands.'
Agge made no answer. He was utterly feeble, and death was very near. Olaf Haraldsson laid his hands upon his breast and prayed to God.
'Give me the life of this mine enemy,' he said.
But the Queen, who had seen the King hasten down to the harbour without helmet and sword, went into the hall, fetched his weapons and called for some of his men. Then she hurried after him down to the ship. But when she stood outside the narrow hold, she heard King Olaf praying for the sick man.
Astrid looked in and saw the King and Agge without betraying her presence. She saw that whilst the King's hands rested upon the forehead and breast of the dying man, the deathly pallor vanished from his face; he began to breathe lightly and quietly; he ceased moaning, and at last he fell into a sound sleep.
Astrid went softly back to the King's Castle. She dragged the King's sword after her along the road. Her face was paler than the dying man's had been. Her breathing was heavy, like that of a dying person.
It was the morning of All Saints' Day, and King Olaf was ready to go to Mass. He came out of the King's Hall and went across the courtyard towards the gateway. Several of the King's henchmen stood in the courtyard to accompany him to Mass. When the King came towards them, they drew up in two rows, and the King passed between them.
Astrid stood in the narrow corridor outside the Women's Room and looked down at the King. He wore a broad golden band round his head, and was attired in a long mantle of red velvet. He went very quietly, and there was a holy peace over his face. Astrid was terrified to see how much he resembled the Saints and Kings that were carved in wood over the altar in the Marie Church.
At the gateway stood a man in a broad-brimmed hat, and wearing a big mantle. When the King approached him he threw off his mantle, lifted a drawn sword, which he had hidden under it, and rushed at the King. But when he was quite close to him, the mild and gentle glance of the King fell upon him, and he suddenly stopped. He let his sword fall to the ground, and fell on his knees.
King Olaf stood still, and looked at the man with the same clear glance; the man tried to turn his eyes away from him, but he could not. At last he burst into tears and sobs.
'Oh, King Olaf! King Olaf!' he moaned. 'Thine enemies sent me hither to slay thee; but when I saw thy saintly face my sword fell from my hand. Thine eyes, King Olaf, have felled me to the ground.'
Astrid sank upon her knees where she stood.
'Oh God, have mercy upon me, a sinner!' she said. 'Woe unto me, because by lying and deceit I have become the wife of this man.'
IV
On the evening of All Saints' Day the moon shone bright and clear. The King had gone the round of the castle, had looked into stables and barns to see that all was well; he had even been to the house where the serfs dwelt to ascertain if they were well looked after. When he went back to the King's Hall, he saw a woman with a black kerchief over her head stealing towards the gateway. He thought he knew her, and therefore followed her. She went out of the gateway, over the Market Place, and stole down the narrow lanes to the river.
Olaf Haraldsson went after her as quietly as he could. He saw her go on to one of the landing-stages, stand still, and look down into the water. She stretched out her arms towards heaven, and, with a deep sigh, she went so near the edge that the King saw she meant to spring into the river.
The King approached her with the noiseless steps which a life full of danger had taught him. Twice the woman lifted her foot to make the spring, but she hesitated. Before she could make a new attempt, King Olaf had his arm round her waist and drew her back.
'Thou unhappy one!' he said. 'Thou wouldest do that which God hath prohibited.'
When the woman heard his voice she held her hands before her face as if to hide it. But King Olaf knew who she was. The rustle of her dress, the shape of her head, the golden rings on her arms had already told him that it was the Queen. The first moment Astrid had struggled to free herself, but she soon grew quiet, and tried to make the King believe that she had not intended to kill herself.
'King Olaf, why dost thou secretly come behind a poor woman who hath gone down to the river to see how she is mirrored in the water? What must I think of thee?'
Astrid's voice sounded composed and playful. The King stood silent.
'Thou hast frightened me so that I nearly fell into the river,' Astrid said. 'Didst thou think, perhaps, that I would drown myself?'
The King answered:
'I know not what to believe; God will enlighten me.'
Astrid laughed and kissed him.
'What woman would take her life who is as happy as I am? Doth one take one's life in Paradise?'
'I do not understand it,' said King Olaf, in his gentle manner. 'God will enlighten me. He will tell me if it be through any fault of mine that thou wouldest commit so great a sin.'
Astrid went up to him and stroked his cheek. The reverence she felt for King Olaf had hitherto deterred her from showing him the full tenderness of her love. Now she threw her arms passionately around him and kissed him countless times. Then she began to speak to him in gentle, bird-like tones.
'Wouldest thou know how truly my heart clings to thee?' she said.
She made the King sit down on an overturned boat. She knelt down at his feet.
'King Olaf,' she said, 'I will no longer be Queen. She who loves as greatly as I love thee cannot be a Queen. I wish thou wouldest go far into the forest, and let me be thy bondwoman. Then I should have leave to serve thee every day. Then I would prepare thy food, make thy bed, and watch over thy house whilst thou slept. None other should have leave to serve thee, except I. When thou returnest from the chase in the evening, I would go to meet thee, and kneel before thee on the road and say: "King Olaf, my life is thine." And thou wouldest laugh, and lower thy spear against my breast, and say: "Yes, thy life is mine. Thou hast neither father nor mother; thou art mine, and thy life is mine."'
As Astrid said this, she drew, as if in play, King Olaf's sword out of its sheath. She laid the hilt in the King's hand, but the point she directed towards her own heart.
'Say these words to me, King Olaf,' she said, 'as if we were alone in the forest, and I were thy bondwoman. Say: "Thy life is mine."'
'Thy life is God's,' said the King.
Astrid laughed lightly.
'My life is thine,' she repeated, in the tenderest voice, and the same moment King Olaf felt that she pressed the point of the sword against her breast.
But the King held the sword with a firm hand, even when in play. He drew it to him before Astrid had time to do herself any harm. And he sprang up. For the first time in his life he trembled from fear. The Queen would die at his hand, and she had not been far from attaining her wish. At the same moment he had an inspiration, and he understood what was the cause of her despair.
'She has committed a sin,' he thought. 'She has a sin upon her conscience.'
He bent down over Astrid.
'Tell me in what manner thou hast sinned,' he said.
Astrid had thrown herself down on the rough planks of the bridge, crying in utter despair.
'No one free from guilt would weep like this,' thought the King. 'But how can the honourable daughter of the King have brought such a heavy burden upon her?' he asked himself. 'How can the noble Ingegerd have a crime upon her conscience?'
'Ingegerd, tell me how thou hast sinned,' he asked again.
But Astrid was sobbing so violently that she could not answer, but instead she drew off her golden arm and finger rings, and handed them to the King with averted face. The King thought how unlike this was to the gentle King's daughter of whom Hjalte had spoken.
'Is this Hjalte's Ingegerd that lies sobbing at my feet?' he thought.
He bent down and seized Astrid by the shoulder.
'Who are thou? who art thou?' he said, shaking her arm. 'I see that thou canst not be Ingegerd. Who art thou?'
Astrid was still sobbing so violently that she could not speak. But in order to give the King the answer he asked for, she let down her long hair, twisted a lock of it round her arms, and held them towards the King, and sat thus bowed and with drooping head. The King thought:
'She wishes me to understand that she belongs to those who wear chains. She confesses that she is a bondwoman.'
A thought again struck the King; he now understood everything.
'Has not the Svea-King a daughter who is the child of a bondwoman?' he asked suddenly.
He received no answer to this question either, but he heard Astrid shudder as if from cold. King Olaf asked still one more question.
'Thou whom I have made my wife,' he said, 'hast thou so low a mind that thou wouldest allow thyself to be used as a means of spoiling a man's honour? Is thy mind so mean that thou rejoicest when his enemies laugh at his discomfiture?'
Astrid could hear from the King's voice how bitterly he suffered under the insult that had been offered him. She forgot her own sufferings, and wept no more.
'Take my life,' she said.
A great temptation came upon King Olaf.
'Slay this wicked bondwoman,' the old Adam said within him. 'Show the Svea-King what it costs to make a fool of the King of Norway.'
At that moment Olaf Haraldsson felt no love for Astrid. He hated her for having been the means of his humiliation. He knew everybody would think it right when he returned evil for evil, and if he did not avenge this insult, he would be held in derision by the Bards, and his enemies would no longer fear him. He had but one wish: to slay Astrid, to take her life. His anger was so violent that it craved for blood. If a fool had dared to put his fool's cap upon his head, would he not have torn it off, torn it to pieces, thrown it on the ground, trampled upon it? If he now laid Astrid a bloody corpse upon her ship, and sent her back to her father, people would say of King Olaf that he was a worthy descendant of Harald Haarfager.
But King Olaf still held his sword in his hand, and under his fingers he felt the hilt, upon which he had once had inscribed: 'Blessed are the peacemakers,' 'Blessed are the meek,' 'Blessed are the merciful.' And every time he, in this hour of anguish, grasped his sword firmly in order to slay Astrid, he felt these words under his hand. He thought he could feel every letter. He remembered the day when he had first heard these words.
'This I will write in letters of gold on the hilt of my sword,' he had said, 'so that the words may burn in my hand every time I would swing my sword in fury, or for an unjust cause.'
He felt that the hilt of the sword now burnt in his hand. King Olaf said aloud to himself:
'Formerly thou wert the slave of many lusts; now thou hast but one master, and that is God.'
With these words he put back the sword into its sheath, and began to walk to and fro on the bridge. Astrid remained lying in the same position. King Olaf saw that she crouched in fear of death every time he went past her.
'I will not slay thee,' he said; but his voice sounded hard from hatred.
King Olaf continued for awhile to walk backwards and forwards on the bridge; then he went up to Astrid, and asked her in the same hard voice what her real name was, and that she was able to answer him. He looked at this woman whom he had so highly treasured, and who now lay at his feet like a wounded deer – he looked down upon her as a dead man's soul looks with pity at the poor body which was once its dwelling.
'Oh, thou my soul,' said King Olaf, 'it was there thou dwelt in love, and now thou art as homeless as a beggar.' He drew nearer to Astrid, and spoke as if she were no longer living or could hear what he said. 'It was told me that there was a King's daughter whose heart was so pure and holy that she endued with peace all who came near her. They told me of her gentleness, that he who saw her felt as safe as a helpless child does with its mother, and when the beautiful woman who now lies here came to me, I thought that she was Ingegerd, and she became exceeding dear to me. She was so beautiful and glad, and she made my own heavy thoughts light. And did she sometimes act otherwise than I expected the proud Ingegerd to do, she was too dear to me to doubt her; she stole into my heart with her joyousness and beauty.'
He was silent for a time, and thought how dear Astrid had been to him and how happiness had with her come to his house.
'I could forgive her,' he said aloud. 'I could again make her my Queen, I could in love take her in my arms; but I dare not, for my soul would still be homeless. Ah, thou fair woman,' he said, 'why dost lying dwell within thee? With thee there is no security, no rest.'
The King went on bemoaning himself, but now Astrid stood up.
'King Olaf, do not speak thus to me,' she said; 'I will rather die. Understand, I am in earnest.'
Then she tried to say a few words to excuse herself. She told him that she had gone to Kungahälla not with the intention of deceiving him, but in order to be a Princess for a few weeks, to be waited upon like a Queen, to sail on the sea. But she had intended to confess who she was as soon as she came to Kungahälla. There she expected to find Hjalte and the other great men who knew Ingegerd. She had never thought of deceiving him when she came, but an evil spirit had sent all those away who knew Ingegerd, and then the temptation had come to her.
'When I saw thee, King Olaf,' she said, 'I forgot everything to become thine, and I thought I would gladly suffer death at thine hand had I but for one day been thy wife.'
King Olaf answered her:
'I see that what was deadly earnest to me was but a pastime to thee. Never hast thou thought upon what it was to come and say to a man: "I am she whom thou most fervently desirest; I am that high-born maiden whom it is the greatest honour to win." And then thou art not that woman; thou art but a lying bondwoman.'
'I have loved thee from the first moment I heard thy name,' Astrid said softly.
The King clenched his hand in anger against her.
