“For the second time you have saved my life.”
“Aye, Steinar; but who knows whether I can do so for a third time? Yet take comfort, for if I may I will, for thus shall I be best avenged.”
“A white vengeance,” said Steinar. “Oh, this is not to be borne.” And drawing a knife he wore at his girdle, he strove to kill himself.
But I, who was watching, snatched it away, then gave an order.
“Bind this man and keep him safe. Also bring him drink and a cloak to cover him.”
“Best kill the dog,” grumbled the captain, to whom I spoke.
“I kill that one who lays a finger on him,” I replied.
Someone whispered into the captain’s ear, whereon he nodded and laughed savagely.
“Ah!” he exclaimed, “I am a thickhead. I had forgotten Odin and his sacrifice. Yes, yes, we’ll keep the traitor safe.”
So they bound Steinar to one of the benches and gave him ale and covered him with a blood-stained cloak taken from a dead man.