"Who besides Halfred still breathes on this accursed ship?"
Then he saw that some six men of those who had aided him kneeled behind him. They had formed, with their shields, a half circle round Thora's body, and had turned off many a spear which would have reached the form of the white sorceress. Halfred perceived this.
"Stand up," he said, with his left arm wiping away the blood and sweat from his forehead, and the white foam from his lips.
He thrust the blood stained hammer into his belt, and kneeled beside Thora, pillowing on his breast her face, which had become whiter than ever before.
"It was too much to bear and to hear at once. The frightful hailstones of this curse have struck the white rose too heavily."
Then she opened her eyes, and murmured, "Not for me, only for thee, have the horrors of this curse overwhelmed me."
"She lives! she lives! Praise to you, ye gracious Gods," exulted Halfred, "It could not be that she should die for the crimes of others. She must be healed, as surely as the Gods live. Had Thora perished for mine, for other men's guilt; with this hammer must I have slain all the Gods."
And tenderly and softly, as a mother a sick child, the mighty man raised his young wife in both arms, and bore her, treading softly, down the steps.
But once more before she left the deck, Thora opened her eyes. She saw Halfred stained all over with blood. She recognised, by their armour and clothing, the bodies of Hartvik and Eigil, with frightfully shattered heads. She saw the whole deck strewn with dead. She saw that only very few of the ship's crew were left, and shuddering, shrinking, she closed her eyes again.