“Thou wilt do as I bid thee,” she said. “With Eric’s sword thou shalt slay Eric, else I will curse thee where thou art, and bring such evil on thee as thou knowest not of.”
“Look not so, Swanhild,” he said. “Lead on—I come.”
Now they creep into the shut chamber of Gudruda. It is so dark that they can see nothing, and nothing can they hear except the heavy breathing of the sleepers.
This is to be told, that at this time Swanhild had it in her mind to kill, not Eric but Gudruda, for thus she would smite the heart of Brighteyes. Moreover, she loved Eric, and while he lived she might yet win him; but Eric dead must be Eric lost. But on Gudruda she would be bitterly avenged—Gudruda, who, for all her scheming, had yet been a wife to Eric!
Now they stand by the bed. Swanhild puts out her hand, draws down the clothes, and feels the breast of Gudruda beneath, for Gudruda slept on the outside of the bed.
Then she searches by the head of the bed and finds Whitefire which hung there, and draws the sword.
“Here lies Eric, on the outside,” she says to Gizur, “and here is Whitefire. Strike and strike home, leaving Whitefire in the wound.”
Gizur takes the sword and lifts it. He is sore at heart that he must do such a coward deed; but the spell of Swanhild is upon him, and he may not flinch from it. Then a thought takes him and he also puts down his hand to feel. It lights upon Gudruda’s golden hair, that hangs about her breast and falls from the bed to the ground.
“Here is woman’s hair,” he whispers.
“No,” Swanhild answers, “it is Eric’s hair. The hair of Eric is long, as thou hast seen.”