"The sign will come, and the tale will come, Princess—all in good time will it surely come," was the answer; and then Wyborga gathered the three around her and told them of many things—of wonders from far lands, of the birds' talk and the beasts' talk, and things that men know nothing of; and while they talked there came a blowing of horns, and the King rode by on the chase, and reined his horse and spoke to the wise woman with kind, good humor.
"Greeting, Wyborga," he said. "Our watch fires are piled, but they are unlighted; our warders watch, but give no alarm; our swords are keen, but they sing no song. Surely thy wisdom was at fault when thou didst prophesy evil for the land."
"Art thou so impatient for the evil to come, O King?" she answered sadly. "It will come sure, if it comes slow. God moves not quickly."
"God?" answered the King lightly. "Why, Wyborga, we have many gods, of whom Odin and Thor are the mightiest—which of them dost thou speak of? They move fast enough for me, for they ride the storm wind so swiftly that all the storm sisters are left far behind in their path. Which god do you speak of, Wyborga?"
Then Wyborga stooped, and with the end of her wand which she used to aid her steps she marked on the ground, and the marks that she made formed a cross.
"The God of this sign, O King," she said. And at that the King shook his head, and thought with pity that surely poor old Wyborga was mad, for of all the gods of the Northland was there none whose sign was a cross.
"Now, good mother," he said aloud, "I understand not thy sign. Canst thou give me no other by which I shall know when the time is near?"
Then Wyborga bent her head in thought, and was silent for a space, and after that she looked up and spoke, and said to the King—
"So be it. I will give you one sign, and when you see that, then be sure that soon the sword shall sing the death song in the land."
"Good!" cried the King. "Give me this sign."