"And thou hast brought a stranger within the camp, Wanderer," was the stern retort. "That is not right."
"Then to-morrow let me pay for it, if you think it wrong, comrade. But for the sake of a brave man who died well, let him now take the King's body away."
Then gruff old Wahrmund smote his spear into the ground and swore a lusty oath.
"Now, Wanderer, my mind misgives me that we two are doing that for which our heads may leave our bodies," he growled, "but still it shall be done. So lend me thy aid and we will lift this hero from his humble bed and bear him away."
"I knew that thou wert a true comrade, Wahrmund," said Wulnoth. But the Dane answered—
"I knew that thou wert a fool, Wanderer; and thou dost make me one, and, by Thor, perhaps I love thee the better for the doing of it."
Reverently did the young stranger take the severed head from Wulnoth; and he bowed his head for the moment over it, while the other two lifted their heavy burden.
"Now, how shall we bear this through the camp?" mused Wulnoth. And his friend answered—
"We will not bear it through the camp; we will cross from here to the forest. There are no sentries on this side that I know."
And so quietly the two carried their burden, the stranger walking beside them with the head, and when they reached the shelter of the wood they laid the body down and asked what next was to be done and whither it was to be borne.