The White Wolf | Page 4

had killed in me all kindness
towards his house, male or female.
He and my old master and five other knights of the eastern coast had
been heavily oppressed by the Lord of Trelde, Lars Trolle, who owned
many ships, and, though no better than a pirate, claimed a right of
levying tribute along the shore that faces Funen, upon pretence of
protecting it. After enduring many raids and paying toll under threat for
years, these seven knights banded together to rid themselves of this
robber; but word of their meetings being carried to Trolle, he came
secretly one night to Nebbegaard with three ships' crews, broke down
the doors, and finding the seven assembled in debate, made them
prisoners and held them at ransom. My master, a poor man, could only
purchase release by the help of his comrade, Borre, who found the

ransom, but took in exchange the lands of Nebbegaard, to hold them
until repaid out of their revenues; but of these he could never after be
brought to give an account. We on our side had lost the power to
enforce it, and behind his own strength he could now threaten us with
Lars Trolle's, to whom he had been reconciled.
Therefore I felt no tenderness for Sir Borre's house, if by any means our
estates could be recovered. But after this meeting with Sir Borre's
daughter, I could see that my young lord went heavily troubled; and I
began to think of other means than force.
It may have been six months later that word fame to us of great stir and
bustle at Egeskov. Sir Borre, being aged, and anxious to see his
daughter married before he died, had proclaimed a Bride-show. Now
the custom is, and the rule, that any suitor (so he be of gentle birth)
may offer himself in these contests; nor will the parents begin to
bargain until he has approved himself,--a wise plan, since it lessens the
disputing, which else might be endless. So when this news reached us I
looked at my master, and he, perceiving what I would say, answered it.
"If Holgar will carry me," said he, "we will ride to Egeskov."
This Holgar was a stout roan horse, foaled at Nebbegaard, but now well
advanced in years, and the last of that red stock for which our stables
had been famous.
"He will carry you thither," said I; "and by God's grace, bring you
home with a bride behind you."
Upon this my master hung his head. "Peter," he said, "do not think I
attempt this because it is the easier way."
"It comes easier than fighting with a woman," I answered. "But you
will find it hard enow when the old man begins to haggle."
I did not know then that the lad's heart was honestly given to this maid;
but so it was, and had been from the moment when she stood before
him in the gateway.

So to Egeskov we rode, and there found no less than forty suitors
assembled, and some with a hundred servants in retinue. Sir Borre
received us with no care to hide his scorn, though the hour had not
come for putting it into words; and truly my master's arms were
old-fashioned, and with the dents they had honourably taken when they
cased his father, made a poor battered show, for all my scouring.
Nevertheless, I had no fear when his turn came to ride the ring. Three
rides had each wooer under the lady Mette's eyes, and three rings Ebbe
carried off and laid on the cushion before her. She stooped and passed
about his neck the gold chain which she held for the prize; but I think
they exchanged no looks. Only one other rider brought two rings, and
this was a son of Lars Trolle, Olaf by name, a tall young knight, and
well-favoured, but disdainful; whom I knew Sir Borre must favour if he
could.
I could not see that the maiden favoured him above the rest, yet I kept a
close eye upon this youth, and must own that in the jousting which
followed he carried himself well. For this the most of the wooers had
fresh horses, and I drew a long breath when, at the close of the third
course, my master, with two others, remained in the lists. For it had
been announced to us that the last courses should be ridden on the
morrow. But now Sir Borre behaved very treacherously, for perceiving
(as I am sure) that the horse Holgar was overwearied and panting, he
gave word that the sport should not be stayed. More by grace of
Heaven it was than by force of riding that Ebbe unhorsed his next man,
a knight's son from Smalling; but in