“What has happened, then?” said Eric.
“What has happened? All evil things. Thou art outlawed, Eric, at the suit of Swanhild for the slaying of Atli the Earl. Swanhild sits here in Coldback, for she hath seized thy lands. Saevuna, thy mother, died two days ago in the hall of Middalhof, whither she went to speak with Gudruda.”
“Gudruda! what of Gudruda?” cried Eric.
“This, Brighteyes: to-day she weds Ospakar Blacktooth.”
Eric covered his face with his hand. Presently he lifted it.
“Thou art rich in evil tidings, nurse, though, it would seem, poor in all besides. Tell me at what hour is the wedding-feast?”
“An hour after noon, Eric; but now Swanhild has ridden thither with her company.”
“Then room must be found at Middalhof for one more guest,” said Eric, and laughed aloud. “Go on!—pour out thy evil news and spare me not!—for nothing has any more power to harm me now! Come hither, Skallagrim, and see and hearken.”
Skallagrim came and looked on the face of dead Saevuna.
“I am outlawed at Swanhild’s suit, Lambstail. My life lies in thy hand, if so be thou wouldst take it! Hew off my head, if thou wilt, and bear it to Gudruda the Fair—she will thank thee for the gift. Lay on, Lambstail; lay on with that axe of thine.”