He thrust the silver swan under his surcoat, so that it was held there by his belt.
“And now?”
She stood silent a moment, as though considering.
“Am I to be obeyed?”
He crossed himself.
“Before God, yes.”
He looked up at her and waited.
“These are my commands,” she said: “return your plunder; bury the two dead men—in the hall. Mend the gate that you have broken; then leave us to our liberty.”
“Here—alone?”
“I have said it.”