Sigurd nodded as Thorkel returned. "Best begin with the chiefs, Thorkel," he cried, although his heart beat madly, for if Biorn's plan did not work nothing could save his life. Thorkel advanced and stood in front of him.
"Since you are in haste to die, let it be so."
"Wait!" exclaimed Sigurd, as the man swung his axe aloft. "Let someone hold my hair, lest it be defiled and soiled."
A Norseman, with a word of admiration at the lad's bravery, stepped forward and gathered up the boy's long, fair hair in his hands, and the axe swung.
As it descended, Sigurd jerked his body so strongly to one side that the axe was buried in the earth, and Thorkel lost his balance and fell forward. A laugh went up from the crowd as the angry man rose, but the handsome chief advanced and held his arm.
"Who are you, handsome lad?"
"I am called Sigurd, and am Bui's son," replied Sigurd, looking up to the other's eyes, which met his in admiration. "The Jomsborg men are not yet all dead!"
"Truly you are a son of Bui!" exclaimed the other. "Will you take life and peace from me?"
"If you have the power to give it," answered Sigurd.
The man drew himself up. "He offers who has power to give—Jarl Eirik Hakonson."