udrid
said what was in her. "I am not a sorceress, and know nothing of
magic, but Halldis my foster-mother taught me some songs which she said
were Ward-locks and charms." Heriolf clapped his hands, and Thorberg
smiled and said, "I believed thee wise when I saw thee first. And now
perhaps it is for me to kiss thy hands, or even for the most of this
company, for thou art timely as well as wise."

But Gudrid looked troubled. She did not at all wish to sing. "The
songs," she said, "were sung idly at home while we sat at needlework.
They did not mean anything to me. I thought no harm of them."

"Nor is there harm, my child," said Thorberg.

Gudrid said, "But this is a rite, and the song is part of it. I think
I ought not to sing, because I am a Christian."

Thorberg was still smiling, but her eyes glittered. "It may be that
thou canst serve the company here, and do no harm to thyself. Who
should think the worse of thee? Certainly not I. But this is for our
host to see about. It is he who made me sit here."

Now it was Heriolf's turn, and he pressed Gudrid hard. The girls too,
and all the women who were there, were closely about her, asking with
eyes and voices. Gudrid could not resist them, though she knew
Thorbeorn would be angry, and believed herself that she ought not to
have anything to do in magic. But she promised. The women made a
circle about her; she thought for a little while, then lifted her head,
and sang loud and clear--

"To Vala sang Vrind,
The first charm I wind--
What evil thou meetest
Let drop it behind.
Thyself for guide,
The ghost is defied--
Look forth
To what thou shalt find.

Next charm I call--
If despair thee befall
As thou goest thy journey,
May the Good Folk wall
With wings, with wings
Thy wayfarings--
Look forth,
Fear not at all.

This third charm I make--
If the dark thee take
On the road thou goest
For this man's sake,
May the hags of night
Do thee no spite.
Look forth,
My heart is awake.

The fourth charm I tell
Is the loosing spell--
Though they bind thee in fetters
And cast thee in cell,
No walls shall clip thee,
The irons shall slip thee--
Look forth,
All shall go well."

The song was to a strange wild air, very beautiful, known to many, of
whom many had tears in their eyes to hear it again, and sung so well.
Thorberg sat with her eyes closed, and nodded her head to the beats of