Seeing that, Leva looked up wondering in her husband’s face, and he answered the question that he saw written in her eyes.
“He is as I thought—–he is Havelok, the son of Gunnar, our king. Hodulf gave him to me that I might drown him.”
Then he told her all that had happened, and how from the first time that he had lifted the sack and felt what was within it he had feared that this was what was being done. Hodulf would have no rival growing up beside him, and as he dared not slay him openly, he would have it thought that he had been stolen away by his father’s friends, and then folk would maybe wait quietly in hopes that he would come again when time went on.
Now Leva bathed Havelok in the great tub, and with the warmth and comfort of the hot water he waked and was well content, so that straightway, when he was dressed in Withelm’s holiday clothes, which fitted him, though he was but seven years old at this time, and Withelm was a well-grown boy enough for his ten winters, he asked for food, and they gave him what was yet on the board; and we lived well in Denmark.
“There is no doubt that he hath a kingly hunger,” quoth Grim as he watched him.
“Friend,” said Havelok, hearing this, though it was not meant for his ears, “it is likely, seeing that this is the third day since I have had food given me. And I thank you, good people, though I would have you know that it is the custom to serve the king’s son kneeling.”
“How should we know that you are the king’s son indeed?” asked Grim.
“I am Havelok, son of Gunnar,” the boy said gravely. “Yon traitor, Hodulf, has slain my father, and my two sisters, and driven out my mother, whither I cannot tell, and now he would drown me.”
Then the boy could hardly keep a brave front any longer, and he added, “Yet I do not think that you will do to me as I heard him bid you.”
Then came over Grim a great pity and sorrow that it should seem needful thus to sue to him, and there grew a lump in his throat, so that for a while he might not answer, and the boy thought him in doubt, so that in his eyes there was a great fear. But Leva wept outright, and threw herself on her knees beside him, putting her arms round him as he sat, speaking words of comfort.
Then Grim knelt also, and said, “Thralls of yours are we, Havelok, son of Gunnar, and for you shall our lives be given before Hodulf shall harm you. Nor shall he know that you live until the day comes when you can go to him sword in hand and helm on head, with half the men of this realm at your back, and speak to him of what he did and what he planned, and the vengeance that shall be therefor.”
So Grim took on himself to be Havelok’s foster-father, and, as he ended, the boy said with glowing eyes, “I would that I were grown up. How long shall this be before it comes to pass?”
And then of a sudden he said, as a tired child will, “Friends, I am sorely weary. Let me sleep.”