Hiördis.
[To Örnulf.] Thorolf was himself to blame for what befell; with dark sayings he gave us to wit that thou hadst fallen upon Egil and slain him;—we had parted half in wrath, and thou hast ere now brought death among my kindred. And moreover—Thorolf bore himself at the feast like a wanton boy; he brooked not our jesting, and spoke many evil things. Not till then did Gunnar wax wroth; not till then did he raise his hand upon thy son; and well I wot that he had good and lawful ground for that deed.
Örnulf.
[Calmly.] Well may we see that thou art a woman, for thou usest many words. To what end? If Thorold is slain, then is his saga over.
Egil.
If Thorold is slain, I shall have no warriors.
Örnulf.
Nay, Egil—we have lost our warriors now, both thou and I. [To Hiördis.] Thy father sang:
Jökul's kin for Jökul's slayer
many a woe shall still be weaving.
Well hast thou wrought that his words should come true. [Pauses a moment, then turns to one of the men.] Where got he his death-wound?
The Man.
Right across his brow.
Örnulf.
[Pleased.] Ha; that is an honourable wound;
