elcome to Iceland, Eric!" she said. "Welcome, thou glory of the
south!"

Now Swanhild grew wild, for she saw that Eric was about to take Gudruda
in his arms and kiss her before all men.

"Say, Bjoern," she cried; "wilt thou suffer that this outlaw, having
slain Ospakar, should lead Gudruda hence as wife?"

"He shall never do so while I live," cried Bjoern, nearly mad with rage.
"This is my command, sister: that thou dost see Eric no more."

"Say, Bjoern," answered Gudruda, "did I dream, or did I indeed see thee
thrust the broken buckler before Eric's feet, so that he stumbled on it
and fell?"

"That thou sawest, lady," said Skallagrim; "for I saw it also."

Now Bjoern grew white in his anger. He did not answer Gudruda, but called
aloud to his men to slay Eric and Skallagrim. Gizur called also to the
folk of Ospakar, and Swanhild to those who came with her.

Then Gudruda fled back to her seat.

But Eric cried aloud also: "Ye who love me, cleave to me. Suffer it not
that Brighteyes be cut down of northerners and outland men. Hear me,
Atli's folk; hear me, carles of Coldback and of Middalhof!"

And so greatly did many love Eric that half of the thralls of Bjoern, and
almost all of the company of Swanhild who had been Atli's shield-men and
Brighteyes' comrades, drew swords, shouting "Eric! Eric!" But the carles
of Ospakar came on to make an end of him.

Bjoern saw, and, drawing sword, smote at Brighteyes, taking him unawares.
But Skallagrim caught the blow upon his axe, and before Bjoern could
smite again Whitefire was aloft and down fell Bjoern, dead!

That was the end of Bjoern, Asmund's son.

"Thou hast squeaked thy last, rat! What did I tell thee?" cried
Skallagrim. "Take Bjoern's shield and back to back, lord, for here come
foes."

"There goes one," answered Eric, pointing to the door.

Now Hall of Lithdale slunk through the doorway--Hall, the liar, who cut
the grapnel-chain--for he wished to see the last of Skallagrim. But the
Baresark still held Eric's spear in his hand. He whirled it aloft, and
it hissed through the air. The aim was good, for, as he crept away,
the spear struck Hall between neck and shoulder, pinning him to the
doorpost, and there the liar died.

"Now the weasel is nailed to the beam," said Skallagrim. "Hall of
Lithdale, what did I promise thee?"

"Guard thy head and my back," quoth Eric; "blows fall!"

Now men smote at Eric and Skallagrim, nor did they spare to smite in
turn. A