She said, "It is a boy."
"We will see about that," Gunnar said. "It may be that it will be himself who gets the worst of it."
The next day, before the hour of sacrifice, Gunnar told Sigrid to go into the court and leave him to draw the curtains. She did as she was told. The people assembled, and he heard their singing, and the stamping of their feet as they danced about the victim. Then they all called on Frey, and he peeped through the curtains and saw the old man in a crown of leaves, with his knife in his hand, and the victim naked except for a loin-cloth, bound up tightly with cords. There also was the basket of osier. Having done what he wished to do in the temple, he drew the curtains. To their great consternation they saw that Frey had his back to them instead of his face. Gunnar, who had come out by a side door, joined Sigrid in the gallery of the temple. They sat close together looking at the amazed people.
The old man gave a shrill cry. "Frey abandons us! He is angry." Then he turned to his flock and spoke vehemently, but Gunnar could not hear his words. Sigrid watched them with keen and bitter eyes.
Presently the old man turned again and beckoned to Gunnar. He, however, sat where he was. Then he was hailed by his enemy. "You, stranger, come down."
Gunnar said, "I am a servant of the temple, and will not come down. Do you come up rather and say what you have to say."
The old man then came shuffling up, with his gown dragging at his ankles. When he stood before Gunnar, he was out of breath, and that added to his rage.
Gunnar asked him what the matter was, and Whitebeard gnashed his gums together.
"The matter is that Frey is angry—not because of sacrifice, but because there has been none since you came here. There must be much more blood shed—and the sooner the better."
"I assure you," Gunnar replied, "that there will be bloodshed if you persist, and that blood will be your own."