"He came over the border, lord, and we had him straightway," said the man simply. "Methinks there were men after him."
"Where is he?" said I, anxiously enough. "He can pay ransom."
"He is ill," said the man; "he cries for his daughter. Jefan thinks that he is that thane whose daughter was in our hands last night with you."
"Ill?" said I; "is he much hurt?"
"There had been a bit of a fight before we took him. One smote him on the helm, and he was stunned. Thereafter he came to himself, and again fell ill. He will mend, for it is naught."
"But where is he?"
"We have many camps, and I cannot tell you. You are a stranger. But, says Jefan the prince, an you will come to him I am to guide you."
Now I was in doubt indeed, for this was a dangerous errand. The man saw that I hesitated, and smiled at me.
"Wise is our prince," he said. "He knew that you would fear to come, therefore he bade me say that you were to mind that once he had you, and set you free, and that he does not go back on his doings, save he must. He has no enmity for the friends of the slain king, but a great hatred for him who slew him."
"Would he not let Sighard the thane come to Fernlea, where his daughter is?"