ay.

Ingvar strode to the young oak tree to which they had bound the
king and looked fixedly at him. Then he said, "Scourge this man,"
and his men did so. But the king made no sign by word or motion. I
saw Ingvar's rage growing, and he cried as his men forbore,
shrinking a little from their quiet victim:

"Ask for mercy, Christian, at the hands of Ingvar the godar, the
priest of Odin and Thor, and you shall go free."

But the king met his gaze sadly and firmly, answering:

"That were to own that you have power over me through your false
gods."

"Power I have," said Ingvar; "ask for mercy."

Thereat the king answered no word, though his lips moved, and I
alone knew what his words might be, for though his hands were bound
he moved his noble head in such wise as to make the sign of the
Cross. And I think that he spoke to himself the prayer of
forgiveness that he had learnt therefrom.

Almost then had the Dane smitten him in the face, but to this
cowardice Ingvar the king had not yet fallen. He drew back a few
paces, and took his long dagger from his belt, and at that I
thought that he was going to slay the king, and I closed my eyes,
praying. But he spoke again.

"Ask for peace on the same terms for your people, if you will not
for yourself."

Then the king grew pale, but he set his lips close, still gazing at
Ingvar. Hard was this for him who loved his people so well.

The Dane's dagger flashed, and he hurled it at Eadmund, but so
skilfully that it did but graze his head, sticking firmly into the
tree trunk. And he cried in a voice that shook with rage:

"Answer me!"

But the king held his peace, closing his eyes, and waiting for what
might come, most bravely.

Then Ingvar turned to his men, and bade them unsling their bows and
see if they could make this man find his tongue. Seven of them went
to work with a good will, but Raud and the others would not, but
turned away.

The men shot, and in many places the king was pierced, and lo! he
lifted up his voice and sang gloriously, even as if in the church
and on some high festival, the psalm that begins "De Profundis".
Nor did his voice falter, though now he might move neither hand nor
foot by reason of the piercing of the arrows.

At that the men stayed in amazement, and one threw away his bow and
turned aside to where Raud stood, near where I lay. But Ingvar
ground his teeth with rage, and stamping on the ground, cried to
the men to shoot again.

And