Then the light of the straw stack went out suddenly, as a stack fire will, and the darkness seemed great. Yet from the well-lit hall a path of light came past Owen and fell on his foes, so that he could well see any man who was bold enough to come, and they held back the more.
There were but six men of ours in the house behind Owen.
Then came Erpwald, leaning, sorely wounded, on one of his men, and Owen spoke to him.
"You have wrought enough harm, Erpwald, for this once. Let the rest of the household go in peace."
"Harm?" groaned the heathen. "Whose fault is it? How could I think that the fool would have resisted?"
"As there are fifty men in the yard at this moment, it seems that you were sure of it," answered Owen in a still voice. "If you knew it not before, now at least you know that a Christian thinks his faith worth dying for."
Now, whether it was his wound, or whether he saw that he had gone too far, Erpwald bethought himself, and seemed minded to make terms.
"I wish to slay no more," he said. "Yield yourselves quietly, and no harm shall come to you."
"Let them not go, Thane," said one of his men, "else will they be off to Ina, and there will be trouble. You mind what you promised us."
Now, Owen heard this, and the words told him that he was right in thinking that there was more than heathenry in the affair. It seemed to him that the first thing was to save me, and that if he could do that in any way nought else mattered much. It was plain that no man was to be left to bring Ina on the priest for his ill deeds.