Whereon the jailer
was bidden to bring our swords, and it was found that both were
stained, for I had wounded Beorn a little, as I have said.

"Is Wulfric wounded then?" asked Ulfkytel.

And I was not.

"Whence then is Beorn's sword stained?" he asked.

Then came my two thralls, and spoke to the truth of my story, as
did one of the men who had stayed with them, for he too had seen
the deer hanging where I had left it, nearly a mile away from where
the fight was. And my men added that they had seen me riding to
that place, and had followed the call of my horn.

"Murderers do not call thus for help," said the earl. "What more?"

"Only that Lodbrok's dog flew at Beorn;" they said.

Then my steward and others told the story of my saving of Lodbrok,
and there were one or two who knew how closely Beorn seemed to have
sought his friendship. There was no more then to be said.

All the while Ulfkytel had watched my face and Beorn's, and now he
said:

"The arrow condemns Wulfric, but any man might pick up a good arrow
that he had lost. And the sword condemns Beorn, but there are many
ways in which it might be bloodstained in that affair. Now, were
these two robbers, I would hold that they were fighting over
division of booty, but they are honourable men. Wherefore I will
have one more witness who knows not how to lie. Fetch the dog."

So they brought Lodbrok's dog, which the serfs had with them, and
they loosed it. It ran to his body first and cried over it, pulling
his coat with its paws and licking his face, so that it was pitiful
to see it, and there were women present who wept thereat.

Then it left him and came to me, thrusting its nose into my hand,
but I would not notice it, for justice's sake; but when it saw
Beorn, it bristled up, flying at his throat so that he fell under
it, and the guards had much ado in getting it off, and one was
bitten.

"The dog condemns Beorn," said the earl, "but Wulfric bred it."

After that he would have no more witness; but now should each of us
lay hand on the body and swear that he was guiltless.

They brought a book of the Holy Gospels and put it on Lodbrok's
breast, and first I laid my hand thereon, looking into the quiet
face of the man whose life I had saved, and sware truly.

Then must Beorn confess or swear falsely, and I looked at him and
his cheek was pale. But he, too, laid hand on the dread book in its
awful place and sware that he was innocent--and naught happ