Various
Bentley's Miscellany, Volume II
Niall felt his cloak twitched as he issued from the portal. It was the bard, who had quitted the hall before him, and remained waiting for the young man.
"Niall," said the reverend man, "wilt thou now believe in the song of Destiny? From the knowledge of the past confide for the future. Hear what the Psalter saith: – 'The Dane shall rise from the couch, and shall sit at the feast again; but in the fray that shall follow that feast, he shall fall to rise no more.' The mountains are lofty in Moran, my son, where Slieve Dannard sits, with his feet in the sea, his head in the cloud, and his back to the lake of the lonely shieling. Turn thy steed thither! Lo, the sound of his feet! He is coming to receive thee."
One on horseback appeared, leading another steed.
"Mount," cried the bard, "and be ready."
Niall was in the saddle. "Glorvina!" was all he could utter as he wrung the old man's hand. Several others on horseback came up. They were the friends of Niall, who had come to the bridal feast.
"Come!" cried one of them.
"Not yet," interposed the bard. "There are more to join you. Hear you not their horses' feet? You cannot be too many in company. Listen!"
Another came up, and another.
"Spurs!" exclaimed the old man; and the band of friends were in motion, and away. Little they spoke, – merely what sufficed to concert a plan for future meetings; and they dropped off one by one as the destination of each called him from the common track, till three of the party were all that now remained together, – Niall and two others.
"We may progress softly now," remarked one of his companions. "We have crossed the boundaries of Meath, and half an hour will bring my lord to the place where he is to rest."
In the voice of the speaker Niall recognised that of one of the oldest of Malachi's household.
"The place where I am to rest?" echoed Niall.
"Yes, my lord," rejoined the other. "It has been prepared for you; nor must you leave it till night sets in again. You will then forward with all speed till you are met by those who expect you, and will conduct you to where you must repose again. It will take you four nights to reach your place of destination, whither I precede you."
"They who foresaw, have provided," said Niall, sighing.
"They have," responded the other.
"Had I been gifted with their reach of sight," exclaimed the young man, "I should have provided too, and Glorvina were now at my side! I would not have waited for the bridal feast! I would have borne her away the moment the holy man had blessed us."
No further word was uttered, till, suddenly striking down a path that belted a small wood, they came all at once upon a hut, at the door of which they halted.
"Alight!" said Niall's guide.
Niall alighted, but the other kept his saddle; though his companion, the third of the riders, had dismounted, unobserved by Niall till now.
"And now, my lord, good night!" said he that remained on horseback. "The door opens, and light streams from it. You see you are expected. I leave one to wait upon you while I go forward to make preparations for your further progress. So, again good night!" added he, putting spurs to his steed.
Niall entered the hut, the hearth of which was blazing. He threw himself into a seat before the fire, and looked around him. The door of an inner apartment was open. He saw that a couch was ready for him, and such a one as he could hardly expect to meet with, in such an abode.
"Come in!" said the owner of the hut, – an aged woman. "Come in!"
"What's the matter?" inquired Niall.
"Thy companion stands without," replied the dame, "and will not come in. Come in!" she repeated, but with no better success.
"Come in, friend," said Niall. "Nay," added he, "there is no need of ceremony here;" and rising, went to the door, and reached his hand to the other, who hesitatingly took it. "Whoever thou art, we are companions for the time!" exclaimed Niall; "and, if they have no other couch for thee, I will even give thee share of my own!"
Niall felt that his companion trembled as he pulled towards him the hand that he held. A seat, hastily placed, received the figure, which, but for the now supporting arms of Niall, would have fallen. Niall quickly threw open the folds of an ample cloak to give the owner air. What was his amazement to discover the form of a female! His heart stopped for a second or two at the thought that flashed across him! Another moment decided a question almost as momentous to him as that of life or death, when, removing a hat that was slouched over the face of the stranger, the bridegroom beheld his bride! Niall gazed upon his Glorvina half-swooning in his arms!
"Revive! – revive, my loved one! My own! – my bride! – my wife! – my Glorvina! – revive!" rapidly ejaculated Niall. "Not so bright breaks the sun out of the storm, as thou, sweetest, my vision now! Where, a moment ago, could I have found, in my soul, hope – comfort – anything that belongs to happiness? – and, lo! now it overflows, full beyond measure with content – bliss – transport! Revive, my Glorvina! Speak to me! Thy form is in my arms! They feel that they surround thee, yet with a doubt. Assure me 'tis thyself! Pour on my entranced ear the music of thy rich voice! Convince me that it is indeed reality! – no dream – no vision – but Glorvina – my own Glorvina encircled within my arms – enfolded to the breast of Niall!"
Half-suspended animation became suddenly restored; the blood rushed to the face and neck of the fair bride; she made an effort as if she would be released from the embrace in which she sat locked, but it resisted her. She desisted. She fixed her full eyes upon her lover. Affection, and modesty, and honour, were blended in the gaze which they bent upon him! The soul of Niall felt subdued. His arms, gradually relaxing their pressure, fell from the lovely form which they could have held prisoner for ever. He dropped on his knee at her feet; he caught her hand, and pressed it to his lips with the fervour and deference of duteous, idolizing love.
"Niall," said Glorvina, "I am thy bride; I have plighted my troth to thee! Whatever be my worth, – in person, feature, heart, and mind, – I am thine! – all thine! – thine, as the hand that now is locked in thy own is a part of me! Yet – " She faltered, and her eyes fell; and she raised them not again till she had concluded what she meant to say. "Yet," she resumed, "I had not left my father's roof this night to follow thee, but from the dread of outrage when thou wast no longer near me. I came with thee – unknown to thee – for protection; for by thy side alone I feel security. I feel I have a right to find it! – nowhere so entitled to it! nowhere so sure to meet it!"
Glorvina ceased. Niall, still kneeling, kept gazing upon her face, watching her lids till she would raise them. Slowly she lifted them, as again and again he breathed her sweet name; till at length her eyes encountered Niall's, beaming with reverence and love. He drew her gently towards him. She did not resist. She bowed her fair head till it rested on his shoulder; her arm half encircled his neck! It was a moment of unutterable bliss, – yet but a moment! The very next was one of alarm. The hoofs of a steed were heard. Niall darted towards the door; his sword flew from its scabbard.
"Who comes?" he exclaimed, in a voice of defiance.
"A friend," replied the horseman; "but a friend who is the forerunner of foes. You are pursued. I had only a dozen minutes the start of them, – if so much! Listen to the words of one who loves thee – the words of Cormack – of the bard. 'Tell him,' said he, 'thus saith the Psalter: —The land must obtain her freedom ere the bridegroom his rights. What the altar shall grant must be enjoyed by means of the sword! Niall must journey on to the lake of the lonely shieling! Thither shall gather to him the choice and true among the sons of the land. Them shall he train in arms. Them shall he bring with him to fetch his bride, long wedded ere a wife. Glorvina must return! Niall stood confounded; but Glorvina was herself. She rose from her seat. She approached the door, and listened.
"They are at hand!" she cried. "I hear their trampling. Niall, I am resolved. 'Tis vain to resist fate. Its hand it is that severs us for the present. Thy life is in peril if they find thee. I go to meet them. I will thereby stop pursuit. Farewell!"
Niall heard not. Glorvina reached her hand to the horseman, who helped her up behind him. Niall saw it not! She extended her white arms towards him; he moved not. Once more she said farewell, and not a word did he utter in reply. She departed. Niall took no more note of her vanishing form, than the post of the door against which he was leaning.
Malachi impatiently awaited the return of those whom he had despatched in pursuit of his daughter; whose flight, a Dane imposed upon the confidence of Malachi as a spy, had betrayed to the king. Sternly the father fixed his eyes upon his child as she entered; but with amazement encountered looks as firm, as indignant as his own. He forgot the reproaches that stood ready upon his lips. He gazed, but spake not. Glorvina broke silence.
"Why hast thou taken back by force," said the maid, "what thou gavest of free will? To whose custody behoves it thee to give thy child – her husband's, or the ravisher's? Didst thou not sanction the vow? Didst thou not say 'amen' to the blessing? Why are they then of no avail, and through thee? Did not thy command as a father cease when thou resignedst me to a husband? Why is it then resumed, and that husband alive? Did not the holy man pronounce us one? Why stand I here then in thy castle without him by my side? Love, honour, obedience, did I swear to render him; why have I been constrained to desert him, and by the father too who listened to the oath?"
The maiden paused. Malachi remained silent. Yet longer she awaited his reply; still he spake not.
"Thou hast welcomed in thy hall," she resumed, "whom thou shouldst have laid dead at thy threshold!" Her eyes now flashed as she spoke. "Thou hast extended the hand where thou shouldst have opposed the sword, though thou, and thine, and all allied to thee, had perished by the sword. Thou, a king, hast made friends with a robber, who, after stripping thy neighbours, advanced to plunder thee; and holdest that friendship on at the risk of dishonour to thy child, – whose modesty was outraged at thy board with impunity from thee to the offender, and with injury to him who dared resent the wrong. The dread of similar insult – if not of worse, stronger than the opposition of maiden reserve, compelled that child – unasked, unexpected, unpermitted – to fly for protection where protection had been promised, accepted, and sanctioned, but never experienced yet; and scarce had she found it when she was wrested from it, and brought back – brought back to the hall which the spoiler, whom she dreads, is as free to enter as she! And now – " She broke off. The eyes of Malachi were fixed on the ground; confusion, and care, and regret, were in his looks; a tear was trickling down his cheek! The maiden essayed to go on, but could not. Resolution wavered – it yielded more and more – it melted utterly away; she rushed towards her father, and fell, kneeling at his feet, and dissolved into tears. Malachi threw his arms around his child, lifted her to his breast, and held her there, mingling his tears with hers; both unconscious that Turgesius had entered the apartment, and stood glaring upon them.
"She is found then?" said Turgesius. The father and child started, and withdrew from one another's embrace. "'Tis well!" continued he; "and now I will speak to thee what I have long borne in my mind to tell thee. I love thy daughter."
Malachi stared at the Dane. His self-possession seemed to have utterly left him. Not so was it with Glorvina. She drew her tall and stately figure up till it towered again, as she stood collected with an expression of calm scorn upon her brow and lip. Her eyes were cast coldly down; her arms were folded upon her breast; she moved no more than a statue.
"I love thy daughter," repeated the Dane impatiently.
"Well?" faltered forth Malachi.
"Well!" echoed the Dane. "Dost thou not comprehend my speech? Is it not enough to say I love her? Need I tell thee I would have what I love? Requirest thou such wasting of words? Well, then, I love thy child, and desire that thou wilt give her to me!"
Malachi mechanically moved his hand in the direction of his belt, but his sword was not there. He rose – he advanced towards Turgesius – he fixed upon him a look of fire – his lips trembling, and his cheek wavering between red and pale, his hands clenched and trembling. Turgesius in spite of himself drew back a pace.
"Dane," said the king, in the voice of rage suppressed, yet ready to break forth, "dost thou ask me for the honour of my child? Dost thou offer to bring shame upon the roof that has given thee welcome, refreshment, and repose, – the roof of a king! – a king of ancient line! – a warrior, and thy host!"
Turgesius stood momentarily abashed.
"Thy honour!" at length he cried, "the honour of thy child can stand in no peril from me – a conqueror who profits wherever he smiles! – whose favour is honour, wealth, life!" he added emphatically, – "life, without which wealth and honour are of little avail! Come!" continued he, suddenly grasping the wrists of the old king as if in cordiality. "Come! Be no wrath between us! Thy armed men are few, and those less thy subjects than my slaves! My bands hover on the borders of thy kingdom; a part of them are here with their master in the very heart of it. True thou hast said. Thou hast been my host; thou hast received me as thy friend! I would not thou shouldst turn me into thy foe; for little, as thou knowest, it would avail thee. Talk not of things that are only imaginary, but pay heed to those that are real; for it is they that concern thee most. I love thy daughter. Give her to me, and 'tis well! Refuse her to me, and it is well still – for I will have her!"
"Not with life in her!" exclaimed the frantic father, suddenly freeing himself from the hold of the Dane, rushing up to his daughter, plucking from her hair the large golden pin that held her tresses up, and pointing it to her heart. Turgesius stood transfixed. Glorvina never started nor flinched; but leaned her cheek forward upon her father's breast, looking up in his face and smiling. The king arrested his hand. The savage stood lost in amaze.
"I thank thee, O my father!" Glorvina at length exclaimed; "thou lovest indeed thy child! It is destiny, and not thou, that has afflicted her. But – listen to thy Glorvina. On one condition I consent to leave thy hall, and present me at the castle of Turgesius to await his pleasure."
"Name it, fair maiden!" cried Turgesius, his eyes sparkling up.
"Twenty fair cousins have I," resumed Glorvina, "whose beauty far surpasses mine. They shall accompany me to the hold of Turgesius; he shall compare them with me, and if he finds one among them whom he prefers, her shall he take as my ransom. I doubt not of their consent. In ten days we shall present ourselves at his gate. Agrees he to wait that time, and retire to his hold till it expires? The conqueror of a king is not unworthy a king's daughter!"
Malachi stared in amaze upon his child. Not so Turgesius. The countenance of the libertine was lighted up with triumph. "Be it so!" he exclaimed. "At the expiration of ten days I shall expect thee, attended as thou promisest; but if thou exceedest the time the half of another day, thou wilt not blame me, fair one, if I come to fetch thee?" He then approached Malachi, and taking the hand of the king without questioning whether it was given or not, shook it. Glorvina's hand next endured his obtrusive courtesy. He clasped it, raised it to his audacious lips, kissed it; and, turning exultingly away, with confident tread strode down the hall, and, summoning his attendants, departed from the castle.
Ere a week had elapsed, the solitudes of Moran were peopled with the youth of the adjacent country. From miles they gathered; one spirit animating the breasts of all, one resolve, – to free the land, or perish! Readily they placed themselves under the command of Niall. He had won fame even while yet a boy. Then he had no competitor in the feats of strength or dexterity; while his ever-modest, generous bearing, divested defeat of chagrin on the part of the unsuccessful. Since then, he had sojourned with the Saxon, whose art of warfare he had thoroughly mastered, trained by the greatest captain of that nation. With avidity his young countrymen availed themselves of his instructions, and learned a mode of attack and defence superior to that they had hitherto known. They practised incessantly the advance, the retreat, the wheel, the close and open order, the line, and the square, the use of the javelin, the sword, and the shield. Hour after hour their numbers swelled. The first quarter of the moon had witnessed the commencement of their gathering; the fourth looked upon them, a host prepared, and almost equal to give battle to the Dane.
"Welcome, son of Cuthell!" exclaimed Niall, to a youth who, on a steed of foam, drew near. "Welcome! You see what a company we have here to greet you," continued he. "You see how we banquet! You like our revelry, and are come to make one among us! You are welcome, son of Cuthell! right welcome!"
The youth gazed with wonder upon the bands that, reclined upon the borders of the lake of the lonely shieling, were enjoying a moment's repose in an interval of practice; then, turning upon Niall a look full of sad import, alighted, took him kindly by the hand, and led him yet further apart from the companions of his exile.
"Niall!" began the young man, "it is a stout heart that defies the point of the spear, or the edge of the glaive; but greater is the fortitude that cowers not before the unseen weapons of misfortune. My soul is heavy with the tidings that I bring. Shall I speak them? Will Niall hear them, and not allow his manly spirit to faint?"
"Speak them!" said Niall. "Stay! Whom concern they? The evil thou wouldst avert hath nearly come to pass. My soul sickens already! To whom do the tidings relate that demand such preparation? To whom can they relate but to Glorvina?" The head of Niall dropped upon his breast.
"Injury," rejoined the other, "hath ever its solace with the brave, – revenge!"
"It has!" exclaimed Niall, rearing his head, and directing towards his friend a glance of fire. "Is the maid in danger, or hath she suffered wrong? the wedded maid that plighted her troth to Niall: the bride that has not pressed the bridal couch?"
"The couch that she shall press with another," resumed the young man, "is spread for her in the castle of Turgesius!" He paused, alarmed at the looks of Niall, from whose face the blood had fled.
"Go on!" said Niall, after a time, articulating with difficulty; and, with clenched hands, folding his arms tightly upon his breast. "Go on!" he repeated, observing that the young man hesitated. "Tell me the whole! It is worse, I see, than I feared; but go on! Keep nothing from me!"
"Turgesius has demanded thy bride for his mistress, and Glorvina – " The son of Cuthell stopped short, as if what was to follow was more than he had fortitude to give utterance to.
"Has consented?" interrogated Niall, with a look of furious distraction.
"Has consented," rejoined the young man,
Niall stood transfixed for a minute or two; then smote his forehead fiercely with his hand, groaned, and cast himself upon the earth.
The son of Cuthell left him to himself for a time. He spake not to him till he saw that his passion had got vent in tears; then he accosted him.
"Revenge," said he, "stands upon its feet. It braces its arm for the blow! Not to see thee thus did I spur my steed into foam soon as I learned the news. Within a month did Glorvina promise to surrender herself to the arms of the rover. Five days remain unexpired. Up! Call thy friends around thee! inform them of the wrong, the dishonour that awaits thee. Ask them to avenge thee. Not a spear but will be grasped; not a foot but will be ready! You shall march upon the castle of Malachi. You shall demand your bride. You shall have her!"
Niall sprang from the ground; he hastened towards his bands; his looks and pace spoke the errand of wrath and impatience. His friends were on their feet without the summons of his tongue. They simultaneously closed around him when he drew near, eagerness and inquiry in their eyes, whose sparkling vouched for spirits that were not slow to kindle.
Niall told what he came to say; no voice replied to him. Silently the warriors formed themselves into the order of march; then turned their eyes upon Niall, waiting his command. He raised his sword aloft, and his eyes went along with it, followed by the eyes of all his little host. Slowly he bent the knee. Not a knee besides but also kissed the earth.
"To Meath!" exclaimed Niall, springing up.
"To Meath!" shouted every warrior, as the whole stood erect.
Niall placed himself in the van; he moved on; they followed him.
The last morning of the month lighted up the towers of Malachi; but gloomy was the brow of their lord. He paced his hall with hurried steps, every now and then casting an uneasy glance towards the door that communicated with the interior of the castle. The bard was seated near the exterior portal, his harp reclining on his breast, his arms extended across his frame, his fingers spread over its strings. Lively and loud was the chord that he struck, and bold was the strain that he began.
"What kind of strain is that?" demanded the king, suddenly stopping, and directing towards the aged man a look of reproachful displeasure.
"The strain befits the day and the deed," replied the bard, and went on.
"Peace!" commanded Malachi.
"Not till the feet are announced," rejoined the bard, "that bring the strife which maketh peace;" and he resumed the strain with new, redoubled fire, nor paused till the portal resounded with the summons of one impatient for admittance.
The portal opened. Pale and breathless was he that passed in.
"Thy news?" demanded Malachi.
He whom he accosted tried to find utterance, but could not. He had come in speed; his strength and breath were exhausted. He stood for a minute or two, tottering; then staggered towards a seat.
"A friend is coming," said the bard; "but he wears the face of a foe. Nor does he come alone; but prepared to demand what was forbidden; – to take what was withheld. Niall, with a host of warriors, is at thy gate. Thy bands that watch thy foe have left thy friend free to approach thee; but he comes in the form of the avenger."
Scarcely had the bard pronounced the last word when the hall was half filled with armed men; Niall at their head. Jaded, yet fierce, were his looks. He strode at once up to the king, and stood silent for a time, confronting him.
"Niall!" said the king, confounded; and paused.
"Yes," said Niall, "it is I! the son-in-law of thy own election, come to demand his rights! Where is my bride, king of Meath? Where is thy daughter? the wedded maid who, denied to the arms of her bridegroom, has consented to surrender herself to unhallowed embraces! O, Malachi! accursed was the day when thou gavest welcome to the stranger, whose summons at thy gate was the knock which he gave with the hilt of his sword, – was the blast of the horn of war! Low lies the glory of thy race! From the king of a people art thou shrunk into the minion of a robber, who, not content with making a mockery of thy crown, brings openly pollution to thy blood! Where is thy child? Does the roof of her father still shelter her head? or does she hang it in shame beneath that of Turgesius? Where is she? Reply, O king, and promptly! for desperation grasps the weapons that we bring, and which we have sworn shall receive no sheaths at our hands but the breasts of those who dishonour us!"
So spake the youth, his glaive in his hand, his frame trembling with high-wrought passion, his eye flashing, and his cheek on fire with the hectic of rage, when Glorvina entered the hall.
She did not hang her head; she bore it proudly erect. A tiara of gems encircled her brow; fair fell a robe of green from her graceful shoulders. A girdle of gold round her waist confined the folds of her under-dress, swelling luxuriantly upwards and downwards, and falling to within an inch of her ankles, each of which a palm of a moderate span might encircle. She advanced three or four paces into the apartment, right in the direction of Niall, and then stood still; still fixing her eyes steadily upon her bridegroom with an expression in which neither defiance nor deprecation, neither reproach nor fear, neither recklessness nor shame, but love – all love – was apparent. Niall scarcely breathed! An awe came over his chafed spirit as he surveyed his bride. The more he looked, the more the clouds of wrath rolled away from his soul, until not a vestige of tempest remained. He uttered tenderly the name of Glorvina. He cast down his eyes in repentant humility; he approached her, half hesitating, without raising them. He sank on his knee at her feet; Glorvina recoiled at the posture of her lover. She extended her shining arms; she caught his hands in hers; she almost raised him herself from the earth, and vanished with him from the hall.
The Dane looked from the ramparts at his castle. Twenty of his chiefs – the choicest – were about him. Expectation was painted in the looks of all. Their eyes were directed towards the same quarter.
"They come!" at length exclaimed Turgesius. "The maiden hath kept her word. Yonder they issue from the wood!"
"Those are soldiers!" remarked one.
"Her attendants," rejoined Turgesius; "she comes as a royal maiden should!"
"Then she is well attended. I'll answer for a hundred spears already; and more are coming on."
"Let them!" said Turgesius. "Though they double the number, it were but twenty for each fair virgin, and the princess to go without. Turn out our bands, that we may receive them with all due courtesy!"
Turgesius and his chiefs descended; they issued from the castle-gate; the bands of the Dane were drawn up ready to give salutation to the visitors. The Irish party drew near; they halted within fifty paces of the walls, and, unfolding their ranks, presented to the eyes of the Dane, Glorvina and her kinswomen, faithful to the appointment of the royal maid. All were veiled. Turgesius and his chiefs approached them; and Glorvina, when they drew near, removed the thick gauze from her face.
"Chieftain!" she spake, "I am here to keep my word. Conduct us into thy castle. Compare me there with my kinswomen. If thou findest amongst them, her whom thou deemest more deserving thy love than I, accept her in place of me, and let me return to my father."
"Be it so!" said Turgesius, casting a significant glance around him upon his chiefs; and led the way, Glorvina and her companions following.
They passed into the hall of banquet. Turgesius led Glorvina to the head of the board, but not to place her there. He turned; and, as she looked down the chamber along with him, she saw that his chiefs had likewise entered it, and her respiration became difficult, and a chill passed over her frame.
"Chiefs!" cried Turgesius, "you see what choice of beauty the bounty of Malachi has presented to your lord; but he cares not to avail himself of it. He asks not a damsel even to remove her veil, content with the charms of the fair Glorvina. Her does he lead to the banquet which has been prepared for her within. Welcome ye the daughters of Meath! Leave them no cause to tax the sons of the Dane with want of gallantry." Turgesius took the hand of Glorvina.
"Stay!" interposed the maid: "the Irish maiden sits not at the banquet with the glaive in the girdle of the warrior; for the cup engenders ire as well as mirth, and blood may flow as well as wine. Before my kinswomen withdraw their veils, let thy chieftains deposit their weapons without the hall, and each as he returns accept the first maiden that commits herself to his courtesy, and conduct her to her seat, nor ask her to remove the guard of modesty till all are in their places."
The chiefs waited not for the reply of Turgesius. They passed quickly out of the hall; they returned unarmed. All was performed as Glorvina prescribed. She waited not for the invitation of Turgesius. Of her own accord she entered the apartment prepared for the rover and herself. Closely he followed her. The door was closed after him. He sprang towards her, and caught her to his breast. She shrieked, and disengaged herself. Again he approached her; but stopped short at the sight of a dagger, which gleamed in her hand.
"Listen!" cried Glorvina.
Her injunction was unneeded: sounds, not of revelry but of anguish, proceeded from the hall, with a noise as of heavy weights cast violently upon the floor. Turgesius grew pale. His eyes glared with alarm and inquiry.
"Listen!" again cried the maid. Sounds came from without as though the storm of battle were on. Turgesius waxed paler still. Surprise and terror seemed to have bereft him of the power of motion. He shook from head to foot.
"Behold!" exclaimed Glorvina, as the door of the apartment was burst open, and Niall presented himself, grasping a reeking brand. The robber tottered. Life was almost extinct as the youth, twisting his hand in the grey hairs of Turgesius, dragged him from the apartment to his doom.
Not a Dane survived that day.
A second bridal feast graced the hall of Malachi. Niall and Glorvina were the bridegroom and the bride. The bard sat beside them with his harp; but that harp was not silent now, nor sad. No guest unbidden came to the door of that hall. No fray turned the tide of their revelry. And when the bright Glorvina retired, with downcast eyes and crimsoned cheek, the bridegroom himself arose, and, bowing to the king, lifted the brimming cup, and, having cast his eyes around the board, drank