pakar's time is not yet," answered Eric; "still, he has something by
which to bear us in mind."

IX

HOW SWANHILD DEALT WITH GUDRUDA

Now Jon, Eric's thrall, watched all night on Mosfell, but saw nothing
except the light of Whitefire as it smote the Baresark's head from his
shoulders. He stayed there till daylight, much afraid; then, making sure
that Eric was slain, Jon rode hard and fast for Middalhof, whither he
came at evening.

Gudruda was watching by the women's door. She strained her eyes towards
Mosfell to catch the light gleaming on Eric's golden helm, and presently
it gleamed indeed, white not red.

"See," said Swanhild at her side, "Eric comes!"

"Not Eric, but his thrall," answered Gudruda, "to tell us that Eric is
sped."

They waited in silence while Jon galloped towards them.

"What news of Brighteyes?" cried Swanhild.

"Little need to ask," said Gudruda, "look at his face."

Now Jon told his tale and Gudruda listened, clinging to the door post.
But Swanhild cursed him for a coward, so that he shrank before her eyes.

Gudruda turned and walked into the hall and her face was like the face
of death. Men saw her, and Asmund asked why she wore so strange a mien.
Then Gudruda sang this song:

"Up to Mosfell, battle eager,
Rode helmed Brighteyen to the fray.
Back from Mosfell, battle shunning.
Slunk yon coward thrall I ween.
Now shall maid Gudruda never
Know a husband's dear embrace;
Widowed is she--sunk in sorrow,
Eric treads Valhalla's halls!"

And with this she walked from the stead, looking neither to the right
nor to the left.

"Let the maid be," said Atli the Earl. "Grief fares best alone. But my
heart is sore for Eric. It should go ill with that Baresark if I might
get a grip of him."

"That I will have before summer is gone," said Asmund, for the death of
Eric seemed to him the worst of sorrows.

Gudruda walked far, and, crossing Laxa by the stepping stones, climbed
Stonefell till she came to the head of Golden Falls, for, like a
stricken thing, she desired to be alone in her grief. But Swanhild saw
her and followed, coming on her as she sat watching the water thunder
down the mighty cleft. Presently Swanhild's shadow fell athwart her, and
Gudruda looked up.

"What wouldst thou with me, Swanhild?" she asked. "Art thou come to mock
my grief?"

"Nay, foster-sister, for then I must mock my own. I come to mix my tears
with thine. See, w