“That is no honest speech,” quoth Biorn. “Go hence, or give me your errand from without.”
“Open, fool, or we will have the door down.”
“There is an axe waiting for you if you do that. I rede you go hence in peace, or it may be worse for you in the end.”
I suppose it was in the mind of the sheriff that here were some friends of his who had been overlong at the ale bench in the hall that evening; but on this there was a little talk outside, and then the crash of a great stone that was hurled against the door; and at that he started back and got his mail shirt on him, for the door was strong enough to stand many such blows yet. It seemed that there was more than a drunken frolic on hand. Then came another stone against the door, and it shook; and at the same moment Havelok came from his chamber to see what was amiss, for the noise had waked him. He had thrown on the feasting gear that he had been wearing; but he had neither mail nor helm, though he had his axe in his hand.
“What is the noise?” he said anxiously, seeing that Biorn was arming.
The sheriff told him quickly, and again the door was battered.
“It is a pity that a good door should be spoilt,” said Havelok, “for down it is bound to come thus. Stand you there with the axe, and I will even save them the trouble of breaking in.”
“Nay,” said Biorn; “we know not how many are there, and it were better that you should arm first. There is time.”
“Why, they think that you are alone in the house, no doubt, and will run when they find out their mistake. They are common thieves from the forest, or outlaws. Stand you by to cut down the first man that dares to enter, if there happen to be one bold enough.”
He set his axe down, and went to the bar, and began to slide it back into the deep socket that would let it free, and the men outside stayed their blows as they heard it scraping. It was a very heavy bar of oak, some seven feet long, and over a palm square.