olk in their sleep,
Gizur! It is murder, and no less, and small luck can be hoped for from
the stroke."

Now Gizur felt that his people looked on him askance and heavily, and
knew that it would be hard to show them that he was driven to this deed
against his will, and by the witchcraft of Swanhild. So, as was his
nature, he turned to guile for shelter, like a fox to his hole, and
spoke to them with the tongue of a lawman; for Gizur had great skill in
speech.

"That tale was not all true which Eric Brighteyes told you," he said.
"He was mad with grief, and moreover it seems that he slept, and only
woke to find Gudruda dead. It came about thus: I stood with the lady
Swanhild, and was about to call aloud on Eric to arm himself and come
forth and meet me face to face----"

"Then, lord, methinks thou hadst never met another foe," quoth the
viking Ketel who had spoken first.

"When of a sudden," went on Gizur, taking no note of Ketel's words, "one
clothed in white sprang from the bed and rushed on me. Then I, thinking
that it was Eric, lifted sword, not to smite, but to ward him away; but
the linen-wearer met the sword and fell down dead. Then I fled, fearing
lest men should wake and trap us, and that is all the tale. It was no
fault of mine if Gudruda died upon the sword."

Thus he spoke, but still men looked doubtfully upon him, for his eye was
the eye of a liar--and Eric, as they knew, did not lie.

"It is hard to find the truth between lawman's brain and tongue," said
the old viking Ketel. "Eric is no lawman, but a true man, and he sang
another song. I would slay Eric indeed, for between him and me there is
a blood-feud, since my brother died at his hand when, with Whitefire
for a crook, Brighteyes drove armed men like sheep down the hall of
Middalhof--ay and swordless, slew Ospakar. Yet I say that Eric is a
true man, and, whether or no thou art true, Gizur the Lawman, that thou
knowest best--thou and Swanhild the Fatherless, Groa's daughter. If thou
didst slay Gudruda as thou tellest, say, how come Gudruda's blood on
Whitefire's blade? How did it chance, Gizur, that thou heldest Whitefire
in thy hand and not thine own sword? Now I tell thee this: either thou
shalt go up against Eric and clear thyself by blows, or I leave thee;
and methinks there are others among this company who will do the same,
for we have no wish to be partners with murderers and their wickedness."

"Ay, a good word!" said many who stood by. "