And straightway Asmund fell down and died there by the high seat in his own hall.
Unna gazed at him with ashen face. Then, plucking at her bosom she sprang from the dais and rushed along the hall, screaming. Men made way for her, and at the door she also fell dead.
This then was the end of Asmund Asmundson the Priest, and Unna, Thorod’s daughter, Eric’s cousin, his new-made wife.
For a moment there was silence in the hall. But before the echoes of Unna’s screams had died away, Björn cried aloud:
“The witch! where is the witch?”
Then with a yell of rage, men leaped to their feet, seizing their weapons, and rushed from the stead. Out they ran. There, on the hill-side far above them, a black shape climbed and leapt swiftly. They gave tongue like dogs set upon a wolf and sped up the hill.
They gained the crest of the hill, and now they were at Goldfoss brink. Lo! the witch-wife had crossed the bed of the torrent, for little rain had fallen and the river was low. She stood on Sheep-saddle, the water running from her robes. On Sheep-saddle she stood and cursed them.
Björn took a bow and set a shaft upon the string. He drew it and the arrow sung through the air and smote her, speeding through her heart. With a cry Groa threw up her arms.
Then down she plunged. She fell on Wolf’s Fang, where Eric once had stood and, bouncing thence, rushed to the boiling deeps below and was no more seen for ever.
Thus, then, did Asmund the Priest wed Unna, Thorod’s daughter, and this was the end of the feasting.